That night I couldn’t turn off the light in my room. I let it shine all night. Most of the time I read G. A. Henty’s book, The Lion of the North. It was about a bunch of people fighting and killing each other in Europe during the Thirty Years War. While reading it I thought about Papa fighting the Germans in Africa, and I worried myself into a state thinking that I might lose him too. I read the whole book that night, not getting any sleep at all.

********

The funeral was a horrible experience for me. I have little recollection of the church service. The scene etched into my memory happened at the cemetery. It was that moment when the casket, with Grandpa in it, was lowered into the ground. Somebody threw a handful of dirt into the hole on top of it, and the preacher read a piece which included the words "Dust unto dust…." I thought I wouldn’t be able to stand it.

We drove home in Mama’s gray Packard while Uncle John followed in his rattletrap Chevrolet pickup. Uncle John was not really my uncle. I called him that because he was as close to me as any uncle could be. He was Grandpa’s nephew and Mama’s first cousin.

Back home we sat around the oak table in the room off the kitchen Mama and Granny called the breakfast room. On the long serving cabinet that took up one wall, Mama had placed little pictures of herself from the time she sang opera in New York. She had framed and put up other little pictures of Granny and Grandpa taken right after they were married.

Uncle John said things that were comforting to Mama and Granny. He told them how much he loved Grandpa and how much he’d miss him. He told them he’d be there if they needed him. They cried again while he was talking. At the time I thought he might be putting them on, but after I was around him every day during the next few years I realized he never would have said those things unless he meant them. As he was leaving, he looked at me.

"Sonny, I want to see you in the morning at the store. There’s some talking we have to do."

"Yes, Sir," I answered.

I didn’t know it then and didn’t realize it until years later, but that talk I had with Uncle John the next day helped shove me from boyhood into manhood. It was a short conversation, but it was one of the most important conversations I ever had with anybody.