The Greatest Man I Ever Knew

I want to tell you about the greatest man I ever knew. He was born dirt poor in Texas, yet I never heard him complain about it. His father was an alcoholic, and struggled with the bottle for many years. He never said how hard it was to live with that kind of role model and he never said anything bad about the man. He volunteered for the Army in 1942. On June 7, 1944, he set foot in Normandy. He would not see home until 1946. He once told me that during the Battle of the Bulge, he had to piss on his rifle just to get the frost to stop jamming the action.

After his return, he ran the family ranch and raised a family. He turned the ranch into a dairy so support his children, even though he hated the idea of not being a full-time rancher. He ran the dairy until his last child received their college education. In all, six children went to college because of this sacrifice.

He lost two daughters before their time, one when she was a young child, one in her thirties. He never complained or cursed God for the loss. He only spoke about the good times with them.

He worked the ranch until illness made it impossible for him to mount his horse in the morning. He was 84.

He always had time for his children, their spouses, and his grandchildren. He was tough when he had to be, but was never uncaring or cruel. He always treated his wife like a lady, and loved her for over 60 years. He taught them how to ride, how to rope, and how to put in a hard days work.

When he died, his daughter found three Bronze Stars and a Silver Star in his things. He never told anyone. He only mentioned his two Purple Hearts. Unlike some, he saw what he did as nothing special, just looking after his men. He was a humble man, but a powerful one.

He was my grandfather, Charles Vernon Brown. And he passed away a month ago. I miss you Pappy. I will do my best to live the way you taught me and to honor your memory.