Grandpa Ryan
Grandpa Ryan passed away early this morning. Click on the title and scroll down a bit to see my last post on him. Rather than repeat an obituary, I thought that I would share a story about him.
As I was growing up, my grandparents owned and lived on a small farm in the Spokane Valley. Grandma Ryan always seemed to be canning vegetables from her garden or collecting eggs from the chicken coop. I would occasionally spend the weekends with them and help Grandpa as much as any seven year old could.
One morning, Grandpa asked me to give him a hand repairing the electric fence. I agreed only because I knew he would be my guardian through the fenced area that the chickens roamed free in. You see.... Grandpa had Vicious Rooster. Vicious Rooster would charge and attack nearly everyone who dared enter his domain. Everyone except Grandpa.
I followed Grandpa to the back end of the property, without incident, carrying whatever tools I could and proceeded to assist by handing him the tools that he needed. Then came the words I feared.
"Run to the garage and grab that bundle of wire for me."
I gathered all of the courage that I had inside of me and headed back. Alone. I scanned the ground for anything I could use to defend myself from Vicious Rooster. A rock! That was it. My ticket through Vicious Rooster's domain.
As I approached the barn, Vicious Rooster trotted around the corner of the barn to face me. We squared off. Vicious Rooster with his razor talons and dagger beak. Me with my rock and right foot. He charged. When he lunged at me, I threw the rock and kicked as hard as I could. Both the rock and my foot landed squarely on the chest of Vicious Rooster and he sailed back across the barnyard.
Round one to me.
I knew this wasn't the end. Vicious Rooster would always test the intruders twice before backing off and allowing passage. I had to survive one more attack.
This time my aim wasn't so great. I kicked and hit only air as Vicious Rooster landed on my left knee with vengeance. Clawing my calf, he drove his beak deep into the flesh above my calf knocking me to the ground. I forced myself up and sprinted for the gate.
Not wanting to disappoint Grandpa, I faithfully went to the garage, grabbed the bundle of wire and headed back.
When I reached Vicious Rooster's domain, he was nowhere to be found. I guess he figured he proved his point.
Bleeding, covered in mud, and sobbing, I reached my grandpa with the wire. I'll never forget the dumbfounded look on his face when I reached him. I also will never forget the look on his face one moment later. The dawn of realization that Vicious Rooster had gone after his eldest grandchild.
Grandpa escorted me back to the house for Grandma to tend to my battle wounds and then headed to the barnyard. All I will say is that I was the last person Vicious Rooster ever went after.
From that moment on Grandpa Ryan was my Hero.
George Donald (Don) Ryan 1916-2009
I love you Grandpa.
As I was growing up, my grandparents owned and lived on a small farm in the Spokane Valley. Grandma Ryan always seemed to be canning vegetables from her garden or collecting eggs from the chicken coop. I would occasionally spend the weekends with them and help Grandpa as much as any seven year old could.
One morning, Grandpa asked me to give him a hand repairing the electric fence. I agreed only because I knew he would be my guardian through the fenced area that the chickens roamed free in. You see.... Grandpa had Vicious Rooster. Vicious Rooster would charge and attack nearly everyone who dared enter his domain. Everyone except Grandpa.
I followed Grandpa to the back end of the property, without incident, carrying whatever tools I could and proceeded to assist by handing him the tools that he needed. Then came the words I feared.
"Run to the garage and grab that bundle of wire for me."
I gathered all of the courage that I had inside of me and headed back. Alone. I scanned the ground for anything I could use to defend myself from Vicious Rooster. A rock! That was it. My ticket through Vicious Rooster's domain.
As I approached the barn, Vicious Rooster trotted around the corner of the barn to face me. We squared off. Vicious Rooster with his razor talons and dagger beak. Me with my rock and right foot. He charged. When he lunged at me, I threw the rock and kicked as hard as I could. Both the rock and my foot landed squarely on the chest of Vicious Rooster and he sailed back across the barnyard.
Round one to me.
I knew this wasn't the end. Vicious Rooster would always test the intruders twice before backing off and allowing passage. I had to survive one more attack.
This time my aim wasn't so great. I kicked and hit only air as Vicious Rooster landed on my left knee with vengeance. Clawing my calf, he drove his beak deep into the flesh above my calf knocking me to the ground. I forced myself up and sprinted for the gate.
Not wanting to disappoint Grandpa, I faithfully went to the garage, grabbed the bundle of wire and headed back.
When I reached Vicious Rooster's domain, he was nowhere to be found. I guess he figured he proved his point.
Bleeding, covered in mud, and sobbing, I reached my grandpa with the wire. I'll never forget the dumbfounded look on his face when I reached him. I also will never forget the look on his face one moment later. The dawn of realization that Vicious Rooster had gone after his eldest grandchild.
Grandpa escorted me back to the house for Grandma to tend to my battle wounds and then headed to the barnyard. All I will say is that I was the last person Vicious Rooster ever went after.
From that moment on Grandpa Ryan was my Hero.
George Donald (Don) Ryan 1916-2009
I love you Grandpa.
posted by Dave Ryan at 12:59 PM
1 Comments:
Dave sorry to hear your sad news, it is great to reflect on the great stories and memories.
Jason and Molly
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