The Passing Of a Giant

     The celebration of my grandfather’s life went very well. Grandpa Dowd was a coach, and many of his former players were there, along with one of his partner coaches. Something that was strange to me was the amount of people whom he effected, who were not only his family, but his neighbors and even those he coached. There were people who stood to talk whom he had barely touched, yet to whom he had left a lasting impact on, enough in some cases, to drive across the country, to see him pass. Often the stories were nothing special, but it was the consensus that he was not only a man of large stature, standing at 6’3’’, but of a massive heart. In the smallest things, he touched people’s hearts, and those moments were the ones people recalled more readily. He was in the navy for 4 years, and was a boxer. He won middle weight champion at Farragut Naval training station. He was a pharmacist’s mate, and was stationed in Guam during World War 2. At the celebration, my father stood to talk about his father’s honor flight, where he was honored as one of the last living World War 2 veterans. The men were treated like kings. This was the last great moment of happiness in his life. He married one woman, whom he was in love with his entire life, and she loved him greatly until she passed. He lived the remaining 9 years missing her with all is heart. He loved like a giant. He passed away at 91 years old. The next morning, we all walked out onto Crystal Pier, in San Diego, in front of his old condo, and spread his ashes into the Pacific Ocean, where his wife and his grandson rest as well. This was also illegal, but it was exactly what he wanted.








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