The Grandpas

Grandpa Harry was the gentlest person I ever knew. He had a soft, ruddy face with white hair and mustache. He was trained as a tailor in Poland and worked in a shop in Brooklyn. Whenever I visited, he hoisted me onto his lap and gave me hard sucking candies. After he died, I learned he had gotten into a scuffle with a Cossack back in his small town near Warsaw. During the fight, the Cossack fell backward and hit his head on a shovel and he died. I was told when Grandpa Harry died the only thing they found in his possession were a roll of charity slips in his pocket from donations he had made.