Flashback Friday: The OTHER Pop's Spot

OK, so last Friday I misunderstood the meaning of the word "pop" and mistakenly posted about my father instead of my grandfather. I promised a make-up post, so here it is.
Here's my grandpa Oliver reading 'Twas the Night Before Christmas to my sister and me. This was an annual tradition in our family, and one we still miss every year at Christmastime. These are but two of the photos I have that captured this sweet occurrence. When he got to the bit about the reindeer Donder and Blitzen, he would tell us that Donder and Blitzen mean thunder and lightning. Every year. We counted on it. (He would also joke and say "I tore open the shutters and threw up the hash," changing forever the meaning of that line.)

This one (above) was taken the one year we got to spend Christmas in Colorado, which was also the year the area received record snowfall. It was such a treat for us Okies to spend so much time in the snow. I'll never forget toboggoning down our steep road with my dad yelling "Grrrit yoouurrr teeeeeth!"

I had to include this photo, because it's of my grandparents before they started dating. Yup, she was his secretary (this is some time before she became mayor!). Just look at that twinkle in his eye!

Here is how I remember my grandpa. He was just such a happy fellow, and the smartest man I think I have ever met. He was a political scientist, and pioneered the use of math and computers in the field. He was a Japanese-language translator in WWII, and received his Ph.D. from the University of Geneva. But to me he was grandpa, and we shared a special bond in our love of numbers and puzzles. Our birthdays were two days apart, and when I turned 7, he turned 70. Each year we loved to figure out how our ages fit together (when I was 8, he was 71, or 7+1=8; when I was 9, he was 72, or 7+2=9; and so on...). I remember one year, I think I was around 19 (1+9=10 and 8+2=10 also!), I went to dinner with him and his companion and her sister & brother-in-law. I felt like such a real grown-up, joining in their spirited (in more ways than one) debates about art and politics.

My grandpa died in 1999, and I was so disappointed for him that he didn't live to see the calendar roll over to 2000. I often think about him and wonder what he would have to say about the way our country is going these days. If he were still alive, he would be 96. 9+6=15, and 1+5=6. I am 33, and 3+3=6. Missing you so much, Grandpa!