My Pawpaw, Henry Klotz, went to that big mechanic shop in the sky at about 9:30 a.m. on Saturday morning. I was sitting in the Derby building listening to my boss give a presentation to high school seniors. I got a text from my aunt that said "Pawpaw gone."
I had seen Pawpaw on Sunday. He was asleep, couldn't hardly rouse him. He slept all week. Nanny said she knew he was dying on Friday night, and stayed up all night with him.
I last talked to him at the end of August. It was Nanny and Pawpaw's 56th anniversary party. We had it in Pawpaw's hospital room. He was having a pretty good day (feeling-wise), and there was cake. By god, that man loved his cake, and he kept saying 'This is some gooooood cake!' Pawpaw, being the round little guy he was, loved food. He asked for more cake. Nanny wouldn't let him have it...so I got right up and got him another sliver. It was good cake, and I wasn't gonna deny the man his cake- he'd worked 56 years for that cake, and who knows when he'd be gone.
Henry Klotz was born in November of 1929 (sorry, Pawpaw, Clarissa always had to tell me what DAY) in Russell, Arkansas. By the time he was 13, he had a full time job delivering ice. He graduated from high school at 16 as class president. Ended up being sent to Korea during the Korean conflict, but not before meeting my Nanny. He wrote her from Korea. He was quite the ladies' man, though- he had such a bright personality and was so generous and kind to everyone. He and Nanny used to tell me about how he'd load up 10 or 15 people (mostly girls!) in his old car (they were bigger back then), some kids in the floorboard and some in the trunk, and he'd take 'em ALL to the movies, pay for their tickets, and get them a popcorn and coke. He was just good to people like that. Nanny recalls being livid with Pawpaw because once, as they were on their way to a movie date, they saw one of Pawpaw's female friends, and he just invited her right along to join them.
After he got back from Korea, Pawpaw and Nanny got married. Went to technical school in Oklahoma to be an auto mechanic. Had my Aunt Lela in Okmulgee. Moved back to Russell, built a house two houses down from his mama's (where he was born). Had my mother, Kris, in '65. Worked at General Industries, was Mayor of Russell for at least half my life then Treasurer for the other half. Had five grandchildren- Clarissa, Nick, Katherine, me, and Jake. Three great-grandchildren- Sela, Haleigh, Tristyn the Pageant Queen, and Ayden (he never met Ayden, but saw pictures). Was married to Nanny for 56 years. I never heard that man say one bad thing about anyone. He was smart and clever as a fox. Most patient man I've ever known, and kind. Drove me to my first job every single day for the first year, even when I didn't get off until 10:30 p.m. and never complained once about it. Favorite thing he ever said to me "There's nothing worth gettin' angry over. You either fix what's wrong, or don't worry about it. No use in bein' angry."
Pawpaw was also a funny man. Jokes all the time, sometimes off-color. Case in point. He showed me a picture and said "you know who that is? that's your uncle Charlie Klotz. he was a conductor!"
And I say "that's neat, pawpaw."
"Yeah, he got struck by lightening, killed him on the spot! He was an electrical conductor!"
*my jaw drops*
Pawpaw's visitation will be tonight, his going away party is tomorrow. I'm looking forward to the slide show. And I'd better hear some Johnny Cash. Pawpaw loved Johnny Cash.
I hear the train a comin'; it's rollin' 'round the bend,
And I ain't seen the sunshine since I don't know when.
I'm stuck at Folsom Prison and time keeps draggin' on.
But that train keeps rollin' on down to San Antone.
When I was just a baby, my mama told me,
"Son, Always be a good boy; don't ever play with guns."
But I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die.
When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry.
I bet there's rich folk eatin' in a fancy dining car.
They're prob'ly drinkin' coffee and smokin' big cigars,
But I know I had it comin', I know I can't be free,
But those people keep a movin', and that's what tortures me.
Well, if they freed me from this prison, if that railroad train was mine,
I bet I'd move on over a little farther down the line,
Far from Folsom Prison, that's where I want to stay,
And I'd let that lonesome whistle blow my blues away.
We're all sad to not have Pawpaw around, but now he can do a lot of things he hasn't been able to in two years. Drive a car (fast, really fast). Walk without arthritis (had it his whole life, literally). Drink without Nanny getting mad. He wouldn't want us to be sad. He's definitely not.
I had seen Pawpaw on Sunday. He was asleep, couldn't hardly rouse him. He slept all week. Nanny said she knew he was dying on Friday night, and stayed up all night with him.
I last talked to him at the end of August. It was Nanny and Pawpaw's 56th anniversary party. We had it in Pawpaw's hospital room. He was having a pretty good day (feeling-wise), and there was cake. By god, that man loved his cake, and he kept saying 'This is some gooooood cake!' Pawpaw, being the round little guy he was, loved food. He asked for more cake. Nanny wouldn't let him have it...so I got right up and got him another sliver. It was good cake, and I wasn't gonna deny the man his cake- he'd worked 56 years for that cake, and who knows when he'd be gone.
Henry Klotz was born in November of 1929 (sorry, Pawpaw, Clarissa always had to tell me what DAY) in Russell, Arkansas. By the time he was 13, he had a full time job delivering ice. He graduated from high school at 16 as class president. Ended up being sent to Korea during the Korean conflict, but not before meeting my Nanny. He wrote her from Korea. He was quite the ladies' man, though- he had such a bright personality and was so generous and kind to everyone. He and Nanny used to tell me about how he'd load up 10 or 15 people (mostly girls!) in his old car (they were bigger back then), some kids in the floorboard and some in the trunk, and he'd take 'em ALL to the movies, pay for their tickets, and get them a popcorn and coke. He was just good to people like that. Nanny recalls being livid with Pawpaw because once, as they were on their way to a movie date, they saw one of Pawpaw's female friends, and he just invited her right along to join them.
After he got back from Korea, Pawpaw and Nanny got married. Went to technical school in Oklahoma to be an auto mechanic. Had my Aunt Lela in Okmulgee. Moved back to Russell, built a house two houses down from his mama's (where he was born). Had my mother, Kris, in '65. Worked at General Industries, was Mayor of Russell for at least half my life then Treasurer for the other half. Had five grandchildren- Clarissa, Nick, Katherine, me, and Jake. Three great-grandchildren- Sela, Haleigh, Tristyn the Pageant Queen, and Ayden (he never met Ayden, but saw pictures). Was married to Nanny for 56 years. I never heard that man say one bad thing about anyone. He was smart and clever as a fox. Most patient man I've ever known, and kind. Drove me to my first job every single day for the first year, even when I didn't get off until 10:30 p.m. and never complained once about it. Favorite thing he ever said to me "There's nothing worth gettin' angry over. You either fix what's wrong, or don't worry about it. No use in bein' angry."
Pawpaw was also a funny man. Jokes all the time, sometimes off-color. Case in point. He showed me a picture and said "you know who that is? that's your uncle Charlie Klotz. he was a conductor!"
And I say "that's neat, pawpaw."
"Yeah, he got struck by lightening, killed him on the spot! He was an electrical conductor!"
*my jaw drops*
Pawpaw's visitation will be tonight, his going away party is tomorrow. I'm looking forward to the slide show. And I'd better hear some Johnny Cash. Pawpaw loved Johnny Cash.
I hear the train a comin'; it's rollin' 'round the bend,
And I ain't seen the sunshine since I don't know when.
I'm stuck at Folsom Prison and time keeps draggin' on.
But that train keeps rollin' on down to San Antone.
When I was just a baby, my mama told me,
"Son, Always be a good boy; don't ever play with guns."
But I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die.
When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry.
I bet there's rich folk eatin' in a fancy dining car.
They're prob'ly drinkin' coffee and smokin' big cigars,
But I know I had it comin', I know I can't be free,
But those people keep a movin', and that's what tortures me.
Well, if they freed me from this prison, if that railroad train was mine,
I bet I'd move on over a little farther down the line,
Far from Folsom Prison, that's where I want to stay,
And I'd let that lonesome whistle blow my blues away.
We're all sad to not have Pawpaw around, but now he can do a lot of things he hasn't been able to in two years. Drive a car (fast, really fast). Walk without arthritis (had it his whole life, literally). Drink without Nanny getting mad. He wouldn't want us to be sad. He's definitely not.
our bodies are weak and will all die one day.
ReplyDeletethe little ripples that you leave behind will be there forever.