Grandpa Joe Had a Fine Stetson Fedora

Grandpa Joe had a fine Stetson fedora, high button boots, farmer's disheveled faded blue 

coveralls, a flap for his hammer, with pencil, notepad, matches, change purse, other's 

business cards, comb for his grey, thin hair, eyeglasses, a compass.

Grandpa Joe’s place was reached by a walk or ride down a long straight 150 foot dirt 

driveway.  The four acre place on rich, fruitful land, had a plow horse, a milk cow or two, 

kept in a gigantic old tar papered wooden barn.  His favorite possession was a golden 

Palomino filly "Goldie," the mother a pure bred, chestnut Arab.

Grandpa Joe was tall, stooped, strong, stocky, sociable, quiet, helpful. His wide, toothy grin 

and optimistic outlook, amazed me.  He discussed politics and the newspaper's editorial, 

when anyone would listen, with the top of an old nail barrel for a chair.  He was thrifty, 

saved every paper, in pile upon pile in the barn, ever since the WWII paper drives and 

shortages, kept an extensive expense journal. 

Grandpa Joe’s front two acres held a clabbered white ranch style house, a little dirty yellow 

Studebaker coupe, old beat up horse drawn wagon, rough built wooden wash room, two 

seat outhouse.  He  always said he would never fly in those awful, noisy airborne 

contraptions. He had sidelines, in earlier times:  a dairy herd, rabbits, donkeys, soft and 

furry beagle puppies, fearsome multicolored greyhounds. 

He was an inventor, once raised cattle, rigged up a lever action slaughter machine, fed 

his chickens with a gravity flow, feed and water system, built a walk-in incubator, sold 

many chicks, every water trough on the farm had a homemade flapper valve. 

Grandpa Joe cared for a few older ladies, a widower for over forty years.  He grew iris, 

sweet peas, hyacinth, jasmine, roses, gladiolas, most of the year, fine weather in southern 

California, prettiest for his lady friends.  He had a magical multi-row, half acre vegetable 

garden, with enough fresh fruit and green veggies for our family of five. 

Grandpa Joe was tough, timid, tireless.  He read like a torrid madman, a perpetual radio 

listener, could never watch TV (we never knew if he could even see it.)  In younger days a 

carpenter, contractor, carver, cabinet maker, a craftsman. He was caretaker for his offspring.