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Life,
death, and old jeeps
My maternal grandfather, the man I called “P.D.”, passed
away in the spring of 2004. His passing was quick and peaceful,
but somewhat unexpected (or at least as unexpected as it gets with
a 92 year old). He was a man of great warmth and happiness, and
my initial sadness quickly faded into fond recollections. This was
the man who got the whole family hooked on jeeps, so one of the
ways we thought fitting to celebrate his life was to pile friends
and family into our '47 2a and head off into the woods. The day
of his funeral we took turns wheeling the ‘47 around the old
family farm remembering all the times my grandfather had taken us
all through the same fields and into same woods.
That same day Sally (P.D.'s niece) watched her 14 year old son Frank
get his 1st driving lesson on the 2a. Frank did a great job, and
for me it was one of those wonderful “life goes on moments.”
As silly as it may be, I think our whole family found nothing but
happiness and joy in the memories surrounding the old farm jeep.
Evan
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