February 2004                                                The Megaphone                                                    Page 2

A Tribute to My Grandpa -- Thurman Runyan

by Shelley Runyan

Recently, I lost a person that meant a lot to me. And in losing him, it closed a chapter of my life that I was not really ready to close. So this is a tribute to my grandfather, a man that will be missed very much by his 7 surviving children, numerous grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

When I was a child, I used to spend a lot of time out on the farm with Grandma and Grandpa. My brother, sister and I would stay all night out on the farm occasionally and we would play with my aunt and uncle who were about our age as well. We would climb up the corn bins and play in them and play out in the hog barns or the hog lot. In the mornings, grandpa would fix the coffee and orange juice. He would get out all the cereal boxes and milk and donuts. Then he would take a saucer plate and put a little coffee in it and lay a donut in it to soak up the coffee. So, we all had to try that trick. It was pretty good. He’d sit at the table and read the paper while we enjoyed our breakfasts. Then he’d stand up and say, "Time to feed the hogs." 

On Sunday evenings, we would all get together for dinner. It would consist of lunchmeat sandwiches, chips, potato salad, slaw and a WHOLE bottle of pop. Then we would take our plate to the living room and watch either Lassie or the Wonderful World of Disney.

In the summertime, on special occasions like birthdays or holidays, Grandpa would make some homemade ice cream. Well, grandma would make it, but Grandpa knew how to put the right amount of ice and salt in the electric ice cream maker. He loved putting all kinds of stuff on his ice cream. So grandma would get out all the fixins – chocolate syrup, butterscotch syrup, nuts, strawberries, cherries. It was wonderful!

This last Christmas, all the families gathered around Grandma and Grandpa for pictures. Somehow we all knew that this perhaps would be the last Christmas we would spend with Grandpa. We had 4 generation pictures taken, those with Thurman in their name, a picture of Grandma and Grandpa with just their kids. Grandpa really loved our big family get-togethers.  We were all out at the farm the Saturday after he passed. Brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, cousins and babies and children, all drawn there together by a common bond. Seven children, 17 grandchildren and 7 great-grandchildren. Thirty-one people that wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for my Grandpa. And in our families and the love we all share, this wonderful man lives on. In my parents. In Dad’s brothers and sisters. In their families. In me. And I cannot think of any better tribute than that. I love you, Grandpa. Rest in peace. You done good.

May the road rise to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
And the rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of his hand.

Submitted by . . .  

Shelley Runyan '81

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