Kenneth

My earliest memory of Grandpa Ken was when he first babysat me at

four years old.......he slept the whole time, and the little tyrant I was at

four...I got into the fridge.....tied the cat to a broom, cut off it's whiskers,

and really trashed his living room up real good. Many people do not get

the opportunity to grow up with Grandpa and Grandma living right next door, and for that I am very greatful to have experienced in my life. Because my father Keith Himmelright worked three jobs when I was a child, my Grandfather became my surrogate dad, we were very close all the years I was growing up.

Grandpa Ken was a hard worker, never a day went by that it was not fulfilled by hard work and effort, he never believed in just plain sitting down. I was very young when he was employed by the Steel mining company he worked for......and he used to take me and my brother up there for tours.....he worked on a very large crane and drove around this

huge mining truck. Grandpa diligently raised chickens, pheasants,

turkeys, even had this enormous pig we used to call Leroy. He raised

a garden every year that we enjoyed raiding as kids. He was also

quite the birdwatcher and woodworker, he never stopped, just one

project after another all the time.

It was a special treat growing up around the farm, Grandpa used to have

me collect the eggs in the morning because Henry, the big mean old rooster hated my Grandpa, but always let me go in and get eggs. Henry

used to let me tie his leg with a rope and tote him around the yard, I was

no more than eight years old. I loved going with Grandpa to pick up the

baby chicks every spring. Grandpa taught me everything I needed to know about raising birds successfully.

His garden was a work of art......everything planted to his artistic talents,

everything had its place, from the straight rows of corn, peas, carrots,

lettuce, potatoes.........to the raspberries, strawberries, and all the other

wonderful vegetables, and beautiful rows of flowers he planted. It was

a site to behold........he toiled in the garden from end of Aprll clear through August dilgently each and every year.....and it was a masterpiece, it was

what he most deeply loved. As young children, myself, friends, and cousins enjoyed grabbing fresh vegetables, full of dirt and all, and we would scamper for the woods and pretend we were cavemen living off

the land......those fresh carrots were always a big hit. Although Grandpa

always knew when we were in the garden......he kept his rows so neat,

that he always spotted fresh footsteps. He also kept this enormous barrel of water near his garden and on hot days........he used to stick myself and my cousin Jason into the barrel, and then leave us there, and

we couldn't get out without his help.........he would laugh and laugh.

The year Grandpa died, he raised the most enormous, beautiful garden that I had ever seen in all my years of seeing his gardens. I gave him two

large bags of wild flower seeds for his birthday that year, and he planted nearly half an acre of wildflowers just for me. The day he had his stroke,

he toiled and worked much harder than he should have for the type of

day and weather it had been.......much too hot for him to have spent so

many hours out there on that garden.....but it was his life........and this is

what he loved nomatter whom told him to take a break. Shortly, after

spending too many hours in the blazing heat of the day........he collapsed.

The next few weeks in the hospital was extremely hard on the family,

we all cried, we laughed, we started mentally preparing for his passing,

we started remembering all the fun memories of grandpa, instead of the

ones we were enduring.....him being attached to numerous tubes, the

constant noise of the machines. The strong willed and minded Grandfather I had known all my life......was now reduced to struggling for

each and every breath......stroke after stroke beating his body down, he held on just long enough to say goodbye to all he loved and knew, and then Grandpa went to rest, for the first time, he was forced to rest, something he never liked to do. Within five minutes of the knowledge of his passing my brother Craig had created a song for his funeral, and I created a poem which is located below the photos. It was our way of

handling his death. In our minds and hearts he will live on.......tears still

swell in the eyes........and Grandpa Ken was the entire purpose for me to

have started my genealogy research........this was his dream, and I hope

wherever he is now.........in his afterlife.......that he is pleased that his dream is being fulfilled!! I miss him dearly!

Sheila Himmelright Cave