Grandpa

      Forty years ago, give or take a month or two, I stepped out of a Boxing Ring in Salt Lake City following a very tough fight, and loss.  I wasn't used to losing, but I also wasn't used to getting beat up as bad as that either.

     Apparently I'd given a pretty good showing as the rest of the Idaho Contingent showed up to shake my hand, the Ref came over to congratualte me and the guy ringside stopped Yelling "Knock out that Idaho Spud"

     Representing Idaho in the Golden Gloves,  there were two things I'd not known.  One, entering the Tournament as an Independant ruined plans of the two larger boxing clubs in Boise, because, I'd beaten one of their guys and the representative of the other beaten the same night.  The next night, the finisher of the other fight either couldn't or wouldn't fight.  But I'll admit he'd had a tougher fight than me.

   I  then learned that these guys, unhappy about the whole deal approached me and said I didn't get the Cool Jacket or the trophy unless I committed to going to Regionals in two weeks.  Well that sucked, so I committed because I really wanted the Cool Jacket and the Trophy.  But I pretty much knew I was the big fish in the small pond, but no idea how I'd stack up against Heavyweights from much bigger towns like Salt Lake or Denver.  But I agreed, so my Best Friend Matt trained me and in two weeks we loaded the Gran Tourino and my fan club consisting of Matt and Mooster left for Salt Lake.

      After a Sleepless night, I showed up for breakfast (Apparently all the teams were staying at this Hotel)  and a Black guy about my same height and build walked up to me "Your name Murray" two inches from my face.  I didn't have a lot of experience with this stare down thing but I think I held my own.  Not realizing that I'd drawn him for my first (and only) fight.  And nobody told me Matt later said people were, worried that if I'd known, I'd head outta town.  I didn't and though it hurt, I lived through one of the more memorable nights of my life fighting a Ranked Amateur who I'll give credit to here.  Tommy Hill from Denver.  A guy who but a few short weeks later would learn that he'd been defeated while fighting for the US Amatuer team by a Russian..  But I wouldn't know about all this at the time.  The following year life caught up to me and though I continued to work out and probably peaked in my abilites at the time, only one fight was scheduled and that fighter failed to show up.  Knee problems and let's say life overcame me. I dropped out.  Years later I consider myself pretty lucky though I attribute my ongoing sleep and sinus issues to the thousands of punches over the years.

 Now this turned out to be a little longer than I thought it would be and not really the subject of my post or me so much.  See after all the all around congratualtions from people about a great fight, people I'd never met sitting  in the crowd, Judges, the Ref, the Boxing Heads of the other clubs etc. my Dad walked up, behind him Grandpa Pete.  I don't quite remember what Dad said, but I'll always remember what Grandpa Pete said. (I might add I was pretty surprised he was even there.+  It was more or less "Don't give up your Day job son" and though it was said with a chuckle, he was quite serious.









     I have scoured the Internet and shamelessly stolen images that have personal meaning.  This one is from Sarah's Facebook page.    This is the Kenny that I remember growing up.  I suspect I'd still be in High School when this picture was taken.  Like this picture shows, Ken smiled with his entire face..  Each time I have visited with Will, Ben or Gerrod it's like talking to a ghost.

      I've been a bit surprised that since I lost contact with Kenny so many years ago, caught up with my own life that others don't have the memories of him that I do.  I must have been about 12 when I attended a Basketball game at the Twin falls High School when Kenny was playing his first year for Idaho State University.   He was a standout freshman who'd recceived a full ride athletic scholarship.  In that game he'd been the top scorer and if memory serves me right he  also was named top freshman that year.    He left school for a mission which among other things probably doesn't encourage staying in shape. But to put that in perspective, Kenny once played for a team that years later would make National Headlines by defeating UCLA  Afterwards he tried out at BYU he later told me unsuccessfully,

     Grandpa Pete was the original pick yourself up by the Boot Straps guy.  We weren't  particularly close, I just know I was his grandson and he loved me.  I'd lost the fight and that was that.  Time for plan B, Simple as that.  There weren;t any losers in my family and though there might be losses, one picked himself up and moved on.. And he wasn't accustomed to seeing or being around them.  He didn't know the caliber of the guy I'd fought and didn't care.  He was accustomed to his offspring standing out.  And in the spirit of this, Grandpa Pete though I should direct my efforts elsewhere.

      Now that's not to take away from the accomplishments of those who've ppulated this Country since, but overall we did have it much easier in some ways

       This is all picked from my memory so there may exist a factual error or two.  Certainly not the spirit or intention of writing this.

      During those early years, the ones I've been told about anyway, Grandpa worked in the Coal Mines.  Grandma, not wanting him to succumb to Black Lung as apparently another brother did, wanted him the Hell out of their so he became a Barber somewhere's near Green River, Wyo.

     But my memories don't really start until after he aquired a large tract of land that must really have been a substantial part of Blackfoot, Idaho.  where my Uncle and he built two large brick homes.  Grandpa started a Trucking business,  owned a Gas station and Hotel in nearby Pocatello and became active in the Mormon Church.and  raised a family.  He'd send them all to College,help finance tthe purchase of one son's penchant for Airplanes.  At my age while I'm struggling against weight gain, he was still very much working.  Hauling Beets and Potatoes well over twelve hours a day while going home to a small Camper parked behind a service station.  Open a Can of Soup, sleep in the small bed over the Cab without heat in well below freezing weather to get up do it all over again..  Hell, my Grandma would join him when she could.

 
     It was nothing for my father, who at Fourteen left home.   Hitchiked across the Country.  Recalled into the Air Force serving as an MP during the Korean war.  Finding and losing jobs to eventually get on with the Rail Road with my other Uncles by lying about his education level.  And he would spend a life "On Call".  By the time of his retirement in 1980, in todays dollars he was making a General Practitioners pay.  And sent and paid for each of his kids to attend College.

    My mother became a Registered Nurse in the  Forties and Fifties.  And an Officer in the Naval Reserve.