What do you think about the Cuban situation?

The summer this picture was taken, my sister and I were staying with our grandparents in San Luis Obispo, California. Kennedy was president. It was the year of the Cuban missile crisis. Among adults I often heard the phrase, "What do you think about the Cuban situation?" And then I would tune out. What did the Cuban situation have to do with me, and my life?

When my grandfather looked me directly in the eye that summer, and asked me that question, I stared blankly back at him. I was tongue-tied, and I felt ashamed that I didn't know more about it. It was an adult question, and my grandfather expected me to have an answer. I was far from being an adult, but Grandpa was aware that the "Cuban situation" could affect me and my generation for years to come, and it was my responsibility to participate in the discussion, to have an opinion, and to stand up for what was right.

Despite his lack of formal education, my grandfather was extremely intelligent, acutely interested in politics and the state of the country. He was also fiercely democratic, hard-working, and proud of it. I felt I let him down that day when I could not reply. It was many years before I understood the impact of this historical event.

My grandfather was a house painter. He also made furniture and enjoyed drawing and painting pictures in his spare time. During the great depression he had worked for a furniture company. He was fortunate to have a job, and gratefully accepted the payment he received at the end of each week. His employer would ask, "How much do you need for your family this week?" That's what he was paid. Usually it was just enough for some bread and groceries – much less than what his work was worth. But if the workers hadn't agreed to this, there would have been no job at all, because the company would have closed.

Grandpa told many stories about his childhood, growing up in the logging camps in Big Lake, Washington. He was tall, strong, and very good-looking. Ever playful, he loved to laugh, and he appeared to be 20 years younger than he actually was.

Grandpa was a firm believer in the "power of positive thinking." He believed that our thoughts become manifest in our lives. He was always optimistic about whatever came his way in life. While he had hardships, it was this outlook that carried him through. He inspired me to look at the world that way too.

Charismatic, he loved people. He would reach out and try to make social connections wherever he went and thrived when interacting with others. He often talked to strangers, realizing that no one is truly a stranger, and he made friends wherever he went.

Imagine what it would be like to go to a museum and find a photo of yourself there. That happened to my grandfather!

Sometime in the 1980's, he visited a historical museum in Washington State. On the wall he saw a photo of himself; it was a class photo, sepia-tinted rows of children sitting in front of a wooden building staring out at the camera (certainly a huge box apparatus on a stand, photographer hunched beneath the black cloth, admonishing them to hold perfectly still). Because Grandpa so loved people, he had a crystal clear memory of all the names and personalities of all of his childhood friends, and many of the adults in his life. He was able to help the museum people with documentation of the people in the photographs.

I wish I had been able to answer his question that day. Because he knew how to play and have fun I loved him. Because he was interesting and smart and knew how to make things, I respected him. I believed he could have been president. He understood hard work and the satisfaction in seeing work manifest in ways that make the world a better place. He understood what it means to sacrifce for the common good.

But my grandfather didn't need to be president to make a difference in the world. Like the vast majority of Americans, he made his contribution to society in other ways. He found his niche in satisfying work, and he had a positive impact on countless people in his 98-year lifespan. He was born in 1901. He died in the last days of 1998, just before his 98th birthday.

We'll never have a president like my grandfather. I only wish our leaders would understand people like him. And I hope that the work and effort of millions like him – the working class of our country – to bring democracy and a high quality of life to all Americans, will be respected and preserved, for generations to come.