A Good Man's Life

My maternal grandfather, who grew up during the Great Depression, served his country in World War II, and went on to become a successful electrician, passed away this past Saturday morning. He was eighty-seven years old. His death was expected, as he had battled multiple infections and multiple instances of pneumonia over the last year or so, and had struggled mightily of late. He had recently been transferred to hospice care.

I'm relieved regarding this situation because it has put my grandmother's mind at ease. My grandfather's illness had taken an emotional toll on her, but in the last few days she has already begun to look and sound better, and she has stated that she feels far more at ease now that her husband is at peace. They were married for nearly sixty-seven years.

My grandfather was a fiercely independent thinker. Politically, he voted for Republicans the majority of the time, but he never bought wholesale into exclusively "conservative" or "liberal" political dogma. (He considered those who did buy fully into any given political dogma to be mediocre thinkers at best.) Though he was a strong believer in God, he was nonetheless very skeptical of religious doctrines and the various reasons why people embrace them. Though he was a tireless worker, he nonetheless believed that there was always time to read--and read widely he most certainly did. Though he was a war veteran who was proud of his country, he nonetheless shied away from describing himself as a "patriot," which he considered a juvenile mindset akin to unreasonable jingoism. Though he was consistent and steady in his decisions, he often said that "...when someone says 'it's either this way or that way,' the true answer is often a little of both." Though he was happy and proud of his accomplishments, he rarely spoke of them, and he admitted that he had personal flaws, as do we all.

Though he was my grandparent, I always considered him first and foremost my friend.

My grandfather had what I (and others) might refer to as a "determined mindset." I guess you had to know him to understand fully what I mean. After I learned of his death, I found myself thinking not only of him but of some lines from Winston Churchill (another very "determined" individual, and someone with personal flaws) I memorized somewhere along the way. I don't know why I thought of those lines, except that they are famous, mellifluous, and from an era with which my grandfather was quite familiar indeed. They are the concluding lines are from the "Wars Are Not Won By Evacuations" speech of June 1940, delivered in the House of Commons. Given that they are being written down from memory, I may have accidentally altered a word or two, but as I remember them, they are as follows:

"...we shall never surrender--and even if, which I do not for a moment believe, this island or a large part of it were subjugated and starving, then our empire beyond the seas, armed and guarded by the British fleet, would carry on the struggle until, in God's good time, the New World, with all its power and might, steps forth to the rescue and the liberation of the Old."

My grandfather served in the Pacific theater, not in Europe. But, in his own way, he helped to bring into reality Mr. Churchill's wish. He was one of millions of people, from North America and Europe and elsewhere, to do that. Yet the amazing thing is that he and many of his contemporaries never fixated unduly on that astonishing accomplishment, or the horrors they saw as they brought it to life.

Each day, we lose more and more people who grew up during the Great Depression and lived through World War II. This is sad, but it is the natural way of things. It would be far more sad if we forgot the personal stories that they pass on in their own unique ways, sometimes quietly and perhaps only occasionally. I will not forget the personal stories my grandfather told me.