This is a photo of my grandparents and my oldest son, Joel. This would be the only time any of my boys will meet him in this life. That's O.K. We'll have all of eternity to catch up. I remember my dad and grandad talking about how much fun I'll have when I meet my great-grandpa Dowell. I get to pass those anticipations on to my kids about their great-grandpa. They can hear his stories one day, while sitting in the shade of his fabled "prime rib tree" in heaven.
Grandpa was a colorful character. The bobcat prominently displayed in the above photo provides as good a story as any to describe him. On a leisurely drive through the backroads of SW Kansas Grandpa spotted a pair of eyes in the fence row. Having a handicapped hunting permit he hobbled out of the van packing a .357 magnum. He was so old and so sick he had to coordinate the shot with the shakiness of his hand. The bullet went in an eye and came out the ear, leaving a flawless corpse, just begging for a taxidermist. Seal Team 6 move over, that is how Grandpa did business. He truly was larger than life.
This isn't Veteran's Day, Memorial Day, Grandpa's birthday, or the anniversary of his death. I don't need a special day to remember him. I have his medals displayed in my office next to the flag that was presented at his funeral. Most importantly, I have a relationship with my Savior because of the legacy he passed down through my dad.
Shortly after New Year's (2013) I was poking through my parents' storage shed in Missouri and came across a briefcase full of Grandpa's notes from the Korean War. I've heard all these stories a hundred times each, but never before have I read them sequentially. It's been about 8 years since I've heard his voice, but I heard it again in those 31 pages of memoirs. I want to share them with you here. They won't appeal to everyone, but for those who read them you will meet a man worth emulating, an example worth following. Stay tuned...
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