Otto died this morning at age 93. He has been with my family since 1944.
Otto could dig a hole faster than anyone, and kept the best branding fire. He liked his tools put back where they belonged, and he didn’t like dogs (this had something to do with being a delivery boy in his youth).
He was always at the top of the hill with our lunches, and we were always so glad to see his pickup. He would bring cookies and cokes out to the field on hot days for me and Ellene.
He always had coffee and cookies ready. He could fix anything, and had a tool for every job. When I was little, Otto would take his dentures out for me 🙂
I didn’t like playing with his granddaughters, and would try to ditch them. Dad told me to be nice to them so that I wouldn’t hurt Otto’s feelings. So I tried.
His green cooler had colorful language on the top – something about not sitting on it 🙂
If anyone lived by ‘early to bed – early to rise’ it was Otto. You could never accuse Otto of being wishy-washy in his opinions.
Oh, I have many, many Otto memories. He was just always there. Now he is with Jesus, and I’m glad for that.