Granddaddy

Gardening: learning early.

I never really got to know my paternal grandfather. Sadly, he passed away of a heart attack when I was just 4 1/2. I do have some very vivid memories of him that I greatly cherish and wish I'd gotten to know him better.

Norman Harvey Shipman was the eldest son of nine surviving children, descended from a long line of southern Presbyterian farmers, mostly Scottish. As a young adult, he took care of his widowed mother and younger siblings, living at home for a while and supporting them with his paycheck. He married my grandmother when she was very young, and they had three children together.

He was a tinkerer, engineer by trade, gardener, and avid reader. I don't remember him talking very much. I remember walking around with him in his garden (his back yard was completely incorporated into his garden...) where he'd pull out a dirty radish, shake it off, and hand it to me (yuck, but I ate it because he gave it to me). He doted on us (he lived just long enough to meet all 4 of his grandchildren) and we all loved him dearly.

My grandfather with Amanda, me, Grandmother, and Rachel.

I clearly remember when my dad came to tell Amanda and me that Granddaddy had died in his sleep. We were in the kitchen of our old house and he hugged us as he cried, probably the only time I've seen my father cry. The funeral was surreal; my great aunts were all weeping behind us in the pews while I wondered what was going on. It's funny the things you remember.

Growing up, I didn't think about Granddaddy too often, but there are some definite traits of his that influenced who I am today. He was one of the first "radar guys" in town, moving to the area when the arsenal was first being established. I used to say I'd never be an engineer like my parents, but whooops... I'm currently working on a master's degree in electrical engineering specializing in radar theory and now think that it's really neat that I'm kind of following in my grandfather and father's footsteps. Also, like my granddaddy and Aunt Terri, I too love to dig in the dirt. I don't know what it is, but I sure do love it!

For my birthday, my dad gave me what is probably the most sentimental gift I've ever received. He gave me Granddaddy's old "Simpson 260 Volt-Ohm-Millianmeter". It's not as flashy, or really as useful, as our modern voltometers, but it was his. And what a cool gift, too. Something that he used all of the time to fix radios and friends' electronics with.

A few months ago, my Aunt Sherri sweetly gave me my grandparents' wedding china. Before then, I didn't have anything that belonged to them, and until recently, I didn't even have a picture of my grandfather.

Growing up, I never asked too many questions about my relatives, but I've found that the older I get, the more interested I am in where I came from. One of my aunts has done some pretty incredible and extensive research into our family's genealogy and has been able to share some of the family's history with me. I have really enjoyed getting to hear about some of my ancestors and their every-day lives. It's also been neat to be able to recognize some of the traits that I've inherited from others and share with my parents/grandparents/aunts and uncles.