It's tough to decide which stories to share about Grandpa Jim, as there are so many great ones. I suppose I will just share some of my favorite memories about him. The first thing that comes to mind were the hilarious stories that he would tell and the fondness that he would describe them with. Whether the story be about his old basketball coach coming into the locker room and bumming a cigarette off of him or he and Pete brawling with a group of roughians from Bridgeport/Sidney/Potter/etc. The stories always had a fair share of profanity in them, and they always had everyone around laughing. I remember being so excited when Grandpa first starting letting me drive his old black pickup. We'd drive down to the post office or the grocery store or to take a look at the wheat fields and gosh darnit if those weren't some of the best times I've ever had - just driving in Grandpa's old pickup and listening to his stories. I'll never forget the amazing feeling that I got every time that we went to visit Grandpa in Dalton and pulled into his driveway - watching the excitement on his face when he would see us from his kitchen window and come out to greet us with the biggest, brightest smile I've ever seen, the friendliest, most infectious laugh I've ever heard, and the tightest, warmest hug I've ever had. Nor will I forget the bittersweet, sadness that I felt every time that we'd have to leave. Turning around and watching Grandpa through the rear window as our car pulled away from his aqua green house, smiling and waving until we were out of sight. He always stood and smiled and waved until we were out of sight. I love him very much, and I will miss him deeply. Ryan Black