Peace

My grandfather. Hershel King. There are so many ways to describe and talk about him that this blog would end up a novel when finished. No amount of explaining would come close to painting a picture of how important he is. He was our family’s rock. I could tell you about his childhood working on the farm…stealing fruit off the back of trucks as they drove thru the Kentucky mountains. I could mention how he faked his age to enroll in the Navy, just so he could be closer to his brothers. He courageously fought on a spotter ship and then received an injury that sent him onto another path of life—hitchhiking across the states to Wichita, KS, where he met my Grandmother Jean. Continue reading →