My grandpa, the gangster

If you read and watched my earlier entry about Uncle Joe and applesauce, you'll remember that my grandpa Charlie is from Missouri. It seems to be an informal tradition around Easter for part of my family to return to Argyle to see Grandpa's brother and sister who still live there. Because my parents milked cows, we never got to go.

In recent years, I've made an effort to take a separate trip with my grandpa, just because he enjoys spending nine hours with me in a car and the company that greets him when he finds himself back at home in small town Missouri.

Last summer my uncle Harv was able to go down with the family for Joe's funeral. After things settled down, he and Grandpa's sister Johanna sat down to look through old photos. When Hanna came across one of Shep, Grandpa's sibling name, she started to giggle. Thankfully she let him have the picture because Harv shared it with me.

My first impression: Damn, G-pa's a gangsta!

Before seeing this, my favorite photo of my grandpa was one Devin took of us at my cousin's wedding. This one just knocks it out of the park. I mean, the hat, cigarette and old car in the background - awesome shot.

It's this little 2.5" x 4" picture, and tonight I scanned it in so Harv, his son Tim and I can blow it up, frame it and treasure it.

Here's to my G-pa, who will forever be wrapped around my little finger and will always have a special place in my heart. *Cheers*