Grandfathers

Most of us get two grandfathers in standard familiy geneology. Both of my grandfathers had died before I was born. Mother's father, Bernard Roe, died in 1916 of pneumonia. They did not have wonder drugs like penicillin at that time, so you either got better or died. My father's dad, Charles, had died in 1937 at about age 70 of heart disease. So I apparently did not have the benefit of good grandfather role models.

Fortunately, my great grandfather, Sheldon Warner, was still available when I was growing up. He was my Grandmother Roe's dad. He farmed on a hill farm in Fairfield, which is close to Candor, NY. He did not have a tractor but farmed with horses. Much work was done by hand, including harvesting the corn, which had to be cut and then stored in upright bundles called shocks. The corn was later picked and shucked for animal feed. In the winter time he grew a full beard to protect his face from the cold and snow, but during the rest of the year he only had a very full mustache and goatee. To me, a little kid, he seemed quite terrifying, and at some point, I thought I knew that God looked like my great grandfather. At meals, he would say grace and then get to the business at hand, eating. To me it was fascinating. With food on fork, his hand would raise all toward his mouth, which could not be seen underneath all the facial hair, and then the hair would part, a mouth discovered underneath, and the food would continue on its journey into great grandfather. The whole eating thing was amazing to me, and I am sure he wondered what was the matter with the kid, and why did he keep staring; after all, it is only eating.

So he became my grandfather example, and while I do sport a mustache, I try to keep it trimmed to be able to see my mouth, since I do not want to confuse any grandchild about looking like God.