A Great Man My Grandpa By Mark Divvies For English 101 Teacher Pat Moran My Grandpas name was Frank Marion Divvies Jar… He was born and raised in the small town of Pueblo, Colorado. He worked at Colorado Fuel and Iron, the section where he worked in was called the open hearth. It was a hard Job of swiveling coal into a furnace, and it made my Grandpa a very strong man. I never could figure out why he had a red tinge to his skin. I think it was due to the heat from the furnace, kind of like a sunburn, but permanent. Grandpa married a wonderful lady named Lucille Werner.
Together they raised three boys, Frank, Ted, and David. Each had traits of their own, but my Dad Frank, was the most like my Grandpa. He too shared the surname of Frank M. Divvies. On Sundays, Dad would take all of us over to Grandpas’ house for dinner. Most of the time, Grandpa would do the cooking, and occasionally steaks on the grill. Grandpa always took pride in his cooking. After dinner we all would Join around his color TV and watch the weekly Walt Disney movie. Another fun thing we always did with him was go on vacation. Every summer we would load up the cars and head up to the mountains.
Fishing and camping was a major part of our summer’s fun. Two places where we usually went were Daybeds’ Cabins, or Overhear Lake. Both were his favorite spots to fish and camp. He had the patience to teach all five of his grandkids to fish, which was a very difficult task. Summer wasn’t always for fun, most of the time we ended up doing chores for him or remodeling something. Everything had to be Just right. One time we poured a side walk for him. It took us about six hours to get it ready and poured. When he came out to inspect it he didn’t like it, “Tear it out and start over” he said, “It’s too thin”.
Each of us was staring at each other with blank expressions on our faces. No one ever doubted Grandpa; you Just did what he said. Another chore we did every summer was painting his eaves and gutters, no matter if they looked Just fine; we ended up painting them anyway. Then there came the remodeling of his basement. This was an endeavor; he got a wild hair one day, and wanted a double shower built. Of course he wanted it in the farthest corner away from the nearest drain to be found. A few months and a lot of sludge hammering got my grandpa his dream shower.
He aid us to do the work that he wanted done, and now I realize he was also teaching us how to earn our pay too. Troubled teenager times caused me to live with Grandpa for a short while. Of course, I did not live there for free; I had to earn my keep. He never really pal me when I level toner, out when I move out nee gave me my TLS car. From then on I was on my own, never really knowing that I was always being carefully watched over by him. I still spent most of my free time over at his house, either Just visiting or helping him work on his home.
I can remember walking into his souse and there he would be, sitting in his chair, smiling from ear to ear, clutching a pony beer with his Boston bulldog on his lap. Grandpa was always there for me throughout my life, forever teaching and always lending a helping hand. He did not always say the kindest words but what he said, usually helped out in the long run. I lost my Grandpa in 1989, to this day I still feel and hear him in ways that are hard to explain. Certain places like going over La Vita pass or up to Overhear Lake, even the Continental Divide where we often had lunch always reminds me of the man that made me who I am today.