By Marjorie Ann Glade Dalgleish
I think of Grandfather being very tall with silver hair. He always wore suspenders and shined his shoes every day, his shiny black shoes.
I can see him now slicing the Thanksgiving turkey as we all sat close by with mouths watering in anticipation of the scrumptious meal. I associate him with good food and treats. Of course Grandma was right at his side making goodies, especially hot rolls and those delicious salted beans. I even got to help Grandma slice the beans for the crock on one occasion. Grandfather would give us nickels and dimes to buy candy at the nearby store.
One trip that was extra special was the hike we took from Fourth Avenue to Ensign Peak. We went around the back of the peak to climb to the top. I thought it would save time to just run up from the front. It was hot and dusty, but we finally reached the flag pole on top. I learned that Grandpa had been to the top many times because he had built the first flag pole.
Whenever I entered Grandpa’s house he gave me a big kiss (kinda juicy).
In 1937, Grandpa went to California with us. I thought sitting next to him was the treat of the whole trip, even better than the San Francisco World’s Fair.
One day when I visited the home on 4th Avenue, I say me Grandpa sitting in the big leather rocker. He seemed sad. I asked Grandma why Grandfather was so sad. She told me that Uncle Bert was in Bolivia and Grandfather didn’t think he would ever see him again.
I always had respect for Grandfather. He was really a Grand Man!