These three little guys were all born within about a year of each other — one in South Dakota, another in California, and the other in Iowa. One would lose his father at the age of three. One would buy a fishing boat, but end up using it to teach half the town to waterski. And one loved to dance. They lived through two world wars and the Great Depression. Each one holds a special place in my heart. They are my grandfathers.
Dave Crockett Kenny Nott George Lambert
I was only six when my Grandpa Crockett died unexpectedly of a heart attack at age 55. It left a void in our family for so many years. I have a few flashes of memories with him at his house on Sequoia, but so much of what I know of him was shared by those who knew him best.
He had a cheerful disposition, a great sense of humor and a heart full of love. Around the house he would often whistle and sing. He loved to laugh. He had an entrepreneurial spirit which had been gifted to him by his mother. He was self-reliant. He was a great barbecuer. He loved the outdoors and going fishing, but his passion was golf. He worked long, hard hours to support his family, but he could often be found on the golf course before work at first light. He was loyal. His employers loved him and his co-workers spoke of his integrity, kindness and unconditional friendship. My dad once said that the greatest gift that his father gave to his children was for them to know for a surety that he loved their mother.
Grandpa Nott was a huge part of my life. He was there for just about every family vacation as I was growing up — pulling us on skis behind the boat, putting a fishing pole in my hand, going rock hounding, dragging us in inner tubes behind his truck on snowy roads by his cabin. He taught me how to drive a stick shift. Not long after he was married, he jumped at the chance to dismantle army barracks and use the wood to build his home on Walnut. He pulled every nail out and straightened it so that it could be used again. He was a skilled hunter and fisherman. He was the bravest of men, fighting for his country in the army during World War II.
I have a memory when I was young of sitting next to him by the fireplace cracking open walnuts and eating them. I still think of him when I eat walnuts. One winter when I was about five, I remember he made our house the most popular on the block. He and Grandma had been up in snow country. It rarely snowed in our hometown, yet knowing how much we loved to play in the snow, they filled the entire bed of the truck to the rim with snow before driving back down the mountain to us. To our delight, when they arrived, he dumped his snow load in our front yard and the whole neighborhood enjoyed hours of fun.
Grandpa George is my bonus grandpa. He married my Grandma Jennie when I was 13 years old. They were married in our home. When they lived in Bremerton, they would go dancing three times a week. I remember every time he would come to visit he would always have plenty of Juicy Fruit gum to share. He had his workshop up at their home in West Point and he dabbled with his inventions. He was a great craftsman and would build things like wooden toys and cradles. He and Grandma Jennie made many great memories in their twilight years going on cruises and on road trips to see family.
When I was a teenager, every once in a while when a group of us kids were singing around the piano, Grandpa Nott would come and join us in the front room. If there was a lull in requests, he would ask us to sing Onward Christian Soldiers. Whenever I hear that hymn sung, I think of him.
For years I have been considering pairing these two pieces, but it somehow seemed like I would be breaking some unwritten law by taking what many believe to be the greatest piece of music ever written and making it my own. It just didn’t seem right, but this year I decided to brush away my fears and dive in. I wanted to utilize the full range of the piano, so it’s arranged for piano — four hands.
This arrangement is for my grandfathers — my heroes. With love.
Click HERE to download free sheet music
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