James P. Culley
An ode to my grandfather, who was a paratrooper with the 509th, and one hell of a guy.
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My grandfather's hearing, part 1
sometime in the 70's | Near Cincinnati, OH
My grandfather loved to hunt for American Indian relics in corn fields and such. He took my grandmother along once. She found a boken piece, and screeched, "I found one, but it's broke!" My grandfather went running through the field like he was being pursed by the children of the corn. He heard "I had a stroke." Poor Papal. We weren't always certain if he was deaf, or ignoring my grandmother, but that time I think it was the former.