I called him when we got into town and the next day Grandpa and my step Grandma met us at Furr's Cafeteria. We spent nearly three hours catching up and listening to stories. It was wonderful. Grandpa has a charming accent because he grew up in Jackson, Mississippi. He only had a 3rd grade education and worked hard his whole life to provide for his family as a truck driver.
He served our country in the Army during the Korean war. He was trained as a Medic but all he had been trained to do was to inject morphine and hemostatins. He was captured and became a prisoner of war. Some injured soldiers who were with him were just shot and killed right in front of him. A Korean general of some sort at the prison camp had an infected bone in his neck or throat or something like that and it was smelling bad. He wanted my grandpa to help him. Grandpa took it out and taught him how to gargle salt water to kill the infection. To thank him, they left my Grandpa's cell unlocked. He ran away, dragging the shackle and chain still attached to his ankle. Grandpa hated to leave his fellow soldiers behind but there was nothing he could have done. When he got back to the American lines, they started shooting at him so he started yelling at them. Someone realized it was their good boy from Mississippi and they sent someone out to guide him back through the mine field. Then the soldiers smashed and sawed the shackle off his ankle, damaging it some in the process. He also had a fractured arm, which never received any treatment. They put him back to work. They told him he could go home sooner if he helped bury the dead, so that's what he did. When he was allowed to go home, he went back to work for the trucking company the very next day.
We visited the grave of my maternal grandfather. His name was Edward Lovendale Roskelley. He owned a Tejano radio station in Odessa. His radio name was Ross the Boss because when he said his (last) name was Roskelley, people thought he meant his name was Ross Kelley. People always spelled Roskelley without the second E. Grandpa's probably rolling in his grave because even in death, some people can't get it right. When I asked at the cemetery office where his grave was, it took a long time for them to find it in their listings because it was entered in their database without the second E.
And here is the grave of my paternal Grandmother Shirley. Above her name is an engraving of a dancer because she was a dance teacher. Lily is holding the hair out of her face because it was windy. It was very meaningful for me to visit my Grandparents graves. I haven't been there since their funerals when I was in high school. I wish I could get to know them now that I'm an adult but I'm glad I still have memories of them.
We visited my friend Susanna and her family in Midland. We grew up going to church and high school together.
We visited a friend of ours from Roosevelt, Ben Walsh, and his beautiful brood. Ben plays trombone in the Symphony and teaches a million private lessons a week to support his family.
Even though the trip was difficult because Lily has hit a carsickness phase and Elliott likes to sympathetically vomit if he is sitting next to his sister when she vomits, I'm so glad we had the opportunity to visit the land of my forefathers, where my parents were raised, and where I was born. Mostly, I'm glad I got to give my Grandpa a big, long hug, listen to him tell stories, and hear him tell me how beautiful my children are. =)
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