My paternal grandfather, Joseph Colclough¹, who would have been 100 years old just a few days ago, was a Depression era child. He fought in World War II, stationed on the U.S.S. Caravan — a minesweeper. (Not many jobs more dangerous than that.)
He was often quite grumpy, he smoked a lot, and drank occasionally (though I never remember him getting drunk). Even after a major heart attack and triple bypass, he would often sneak out behind the hedge in their backyard for a quick drag. Doctors say that’s what ultimately killed him.
With that glowing introduction, you might think that I harbored some difficult feelings toward my grandpa. Truth is, I adored him and considered him one of my best friends and heroes until he died. (Just to clarify, he is still one of my heroes.)
I don’t know many people who worked harder than my grandpa. When he returned from the war, he didn’t hope the government or anyone else to take care of him. He immediately completed his education in drafting and went to work for EIMCO Steel. Notably, when EIMCO purchased their first computer, it became my grandpa’s job to double check the computer to make sure it wasn’t making any mistakes. Several years later he took a second job at the Utah Technical College as an instructor and was recognized for his extraordinary efforts by the governor.
