Granddaddy had an amazing garage.
When I was little, it seemed like a whole ‘nother house, with an upstairs and everything. Even as an adult, I thought the upstairs would make a great little apartment. It was big enough for a sitting room, bedroom, and bath.
More amazing than the garage itself, though, were all the things in it. A boat hung upside down from the rafters in the left side of the garage (second photo), and I always wondered if it were the same boat I remember sitting in on the Hatchee river when I was about nine years old.
As the photos show, Granddaddy kept an organized garage. Everything had a place, and he kept things where they belonged. By the time these photos were taken, quite a few tools and other things had been given away, so you don't get the full picture.
But he had everything! Not a project was undertaken in all the decades of my life that required a trip to the hardware store, or a call to borrow something from a neighbor. He had all kinds of tools and gadgets, probably some that he never used, for all I know. I wish I had more specific memories of things that got worked on, but I don’t. I just remember starting to do something, and him or my grandmother saying, “I think there’s a wrench (or drill or whatever) in here that would do a better job of that,” and after a bit of looking around, there certainly was.
Perhaps his garage was a companion to Grandmother’s freezer and pantry. A symbol of preparedness, a reminder that these things were not always available, but thanks to grace and hard work together, now we have them and will use and share them.
Granddaddy died on this day, in 1989. I was in Italy and unable to be here. That was hard. It took me a long time to realize, make real, that he had died. There was no tool or gadget to make that job any easier.
Tonight is not the night because of other projects, but I hope to write more about him when the time is right. Like my grandmother, he is worth writing about.