My Father's Father. He quit school after 8th grade and went to work in a mill. During WWII he worked at Todd Dry Dock in Galveston. Grandpa's garage was a candy store to me. Old window weights, ancient cast iron vices, dusty work benches and...the cabinets. The cabinets contained a lifetime of collected hardware. The treasures were the solid brass cabinet fittings from the ships and boats he worked on during the war. He'd give me one each time I visited. I've long lost track of that collection. I had no particular use for them but thought they were just the coolest thing.
My Dad called me earlier this week to tell me that he had decided to sell his house and move South to be closer to an old friend of his. He was already in the process of culling out junk and prepping the house for showing. Dad said he had some things I might want and why don't I stop by after work and take a look. He didn't say exactly what they were. I agreed without asking or hesitation.
More on that later.
For now, a song that always made me think about Grandpa. it was practically written for him.
If I'm not mistaken, that's Austin in the background...
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