A Lasting Legacy: A Father's Day Tribute

With Father's Day coming up this Sunday, I wanted to share with readers about my childhood hero and his lasting legacy.


My grandpa’s death two years ago marked the passing of a generation. A generation of men who are rare in today’s world. Some would say they are just old; others might label them old-fashioned. To me, they are a time capsule carrying values and principles from a previous generation that are sorely needed in these our modern times. I am so grateful that he was a part of my life and I am saddened for all of those who never had the opportunity to know him.

When our family moved to be closer to my grandparents, I was in the third grade.

It was, in the modern sense of the term, my rite of passage; the beginning of my transformation from boy to man. You see, growing up, it was my grandpa, in large part, who helped shape my understanding of what it meant to be a man. Not in the false, selfish, mythical way I saw it defined in pro sports and Hollywood productions, but real manhood as God intended when we were created in His image.

I was an adventurous child, but also timid. My grandpa taught me to face my fears in order to conquer them. I had the ability to learn, but I was short-tempered. My grandpa taught me not to be a quitter. I was wild at heart; my grandpa taught me social graces. I learned to address my elders with ma’am and sir; to put on a shirt before coming to the dinner table; and to clean up after myself instead of leaving a trail of evidence wherever I went.

I learned that a real man is not the puffed-up, muscle-flexing images I saw in magazines and idolized on wrestling shows.

My grandpa – he was a real man. He was a gentle giant. Those two simple words – a paradox, perhaps - gentle giant – capsulate my grandpa’s life for me better than any other words I can imagine.

Those who knew my grandpa know why I use this word gentle. He was well-spoken, kind-hearted; a true gentlemen.


And yet, he was a giant. He was rugged, courageous, bold, and adventurous. The guest bedroom where I stayed in their home was adorned with models of fighter jets, helmets, military awards, and photos of his 20+ years as a pilot in the US Air Force. He taught me how to fish and to drive a boat. We raised and butchered rabbits and hung the skins out to dry. I learned how to work on a car and to operate farm equipment. As a growing boy, what more could I want?

And yet, he was a giant in other ways as well. He was a great man of faith; a pillar of the church and the community. He was the backbone of his family; a source of strength in times of adversity. He was a shelter from the storm for those who sought his counsel or his friendship.

To speak of my grandfather this way, one might suggest that I think he was perfect. No, he was not. Only one perfect man has ever walked the face of this earth. But because my grandpa so patterned his life after that perfect man, Jesus, I like to think that perhaps he was a close second.

Paul wrote in Second Corinthians that we are called to be “living epistles.” That for each of us, our lives are written like a letter, a book, a record of history – penned by the actions of our lives for the world to read.

The volume that is my grandpa’s life is complete. The last chapter has been written; the words recorded on the final pages. Though his body has returned to the earth from which it came, and his spirit has ascended into heaven for which it was made, the life and memory of my grandpa lives on.


It is written on the hearts of those he touched.

You see, we are all a living epistle – each with blank pages awaiting the stories of our lives to be written. For those who knew my grandpa, for those who share memories as I do, there is a part of him scripted in their life’s letter.

A man establishes his reputation by the words that he writes in his own book.
But a man leaves a legacy by the words that he writes in the lives of others.

My grandpa understood this better than most. His memory will live on through the life lessons, the affirming words, the acts of service that he shared with so many. His signature can be found at the bottom of many pages of many lives. I am grateful that he was a main character in my life’s work.

And I will keep my grandpa’s legacy alive as I copy the stories from my life into my sons’, writing them with the same love and passion by which grandpa recorded them in me. His life will be forever archived as his legacy is passed on to each new generation.

My grandpa was many things, but at heart, he was a teacher - a profession, in fact, that he pursued with great success in the latter part of his life. I believe that even in his passing, my grandpa had one final lesson that we were to learn from him. And that is this: to die in peace, but more importantly, to live in peace, is to pattern your life to love God and love your family, and to be committed to serving both.

His life complete; his letter written; the pages filled; his legacy crafted - my grandfather left his mark.

And as I reflect on his memory, I will always hear the whisper of that gentle giant asking, “What will your mark be?”


Talk Back: As I reflect on my grandpa's life, it inspires me to be a better father. Is there a father or father-figure that has impacted your life in a special way?