When my grandfather died, most of the possessions he left behind reflected his gentle, nurturing ways: a collection of vegetable seeds he intended to plant the following spring, handmade tools with keen edges that he sharpened on his own stone wheel, a car he kept spotless and thoroughly lubricated.I would recommend keeping the old gun as a memento and arming yourself and your daughter with something new (and possibly more potent and reliable).
But among those artifacts, which conjured his patience, his industry and his almost supernatural ability to coax food from the soil, was an ugly black pistol, the kind that probably would qualify as a "Saturday night special."
How did such an incongruous object come to roost among the possessions of a man so uncomfortable with violence that he used to urge me not to play with my plastic toy rifle in his presence?
Sunday, June 05, 2005
Steel in the spine - and in the drawer is an interesting article from the St. Petersburg Times (Florida):