My Grandfather

Kenneth Johnson January 1923-April 2008

A sailor, a husband, a father, a fry cook, an educator, a coach, and more. As one of the younger grandchildren, I did not get to know my grandfather until he was already well into his retirement years. But, a true "daddy's girl", my mother has always told stories of her father's accomplishments and personality.

Many times, I've heard the stories of my grandfather's life. Over six foot tall with long, skinny legs, he was a natural at basketball and played in high school and later on coached the game. Despite a tendency to sink like a rock when in water, he served on a submarine in the Navy (the USS Cutlass). Several years older than my grandmother, he courted her while she was still in high school, following her between classes to carry her books for her, though he was already graduated, himself. While dining at Saul Shalit's, he saw that they were understaffed and overwhelmed so straightway donned an apron and started cooking. He served as a school principal and teacher. In the position of principal, he used his authority to incorporate new, innovative programs such as a program for teaching writing to students who wrote left-handed (like my mother) at a time when many schools still forced those students to learn to write right-handed. With my grandmother, he enjoyed square dancing and I can still vaguely remember going to see them perform on the dance floor although that was when I was quite young.

A few years ago, my grandfather suffered a stroke that left him with permanent effects to his life, taking away his ability to read or do his word puzzles and almost taking away his ability to walk. During the last few months, my grandfather's health has declined rapidly to the point where he was in specialized care under Hospice. We all watched as this fortress of a man became a thin, frail shell. His scrawny legs which had at one time been strong and useful became barely substantial enough to support his own weight. The man who would race his wife to be the first to solve the crypto-quote in the paper each day and spent hours reading the latest novel became unable to follow a normal conversation. In the past week, he had stopped eating altogether and started refusing his medications. He had also almost completely stopped talking. Last night, he gave up the fight and passed. Although it's sad to lose him, I know he was ready for the final rest and had well earned it. He has done so much in his life and the world is a better place for having had him in it.