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Part 9 - Little Wally
My grandfather Walter H. Ketcham was born before
the turn of the century. I can remember him shoveling coal into
his furnace during the winter. He was 5’2” but his temper
was 7’3”. My mother said that he auburn hair, but by
the time I met him, it was pure white. I wish that color photography
was around when he was younger so I could have seen his bright hair.
Everyone called him little Wally, but he didn’t seem so little
to me. He used to give me pennies for my collection from this jar
he kept. It smelled of copper and I used to love to put my face
in it. I loved that smell. He lived alone after my grandmother died
and did not want to move in with us though my mom asked him to.
He was too stubborn and too used to fending for himself. He loved
horse radish and would spice everything he ate with that and pepper.
My mom said that if he got a cold he would heat up some pure camphor
and take it under the blankets and pretty much sweat it out of his
system. In his seventies he would still do repairs on the house,
mow the lawn (even mow his 60 year old neighbor’s lawn) and
drive himself wherever needed the go.
The day he died, he had just got done with the neighbor’s
lawn and was on the roof shingling when we started to feel bad.
In true little Wally fashion, he got in the car and drove himself
to the doctors. Once there, he had a heart attack and died. That’s
my grandfather. I guess I get my stubbornness from him.
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