Woke up this morningtoa surprising piece of newsfromfar away…. andsent it to my little brother. (who’s a lineman for the county, and the only one I know whois also up long before the sun). It’shearteningto knowthatlong after we’ve lost someone when were looking for ways to hang onto their memory – that their legacies can live on sometimes in the most unexpected ways.The book about him being published overseas was not one of they ways we ever expected.Shown here: The House tree when it was alive, then when it died of Dutch Elm.My crazy little brotherswinging 40 ft up, cutting it’s limbs down… (but leaving dad’s tree swing in tact) After he hung it, dad would only make it back to camp one more time,for our wedding.Dad had never been to France, or anywhere a truck couldnt take him (he drove a rig). He wouldnt admit it, but I think even he might be curious about what French kids are gonna think of a midwestern treehouse built out of scrap wood.His lesson is that the smallest things we do can impact others years later in ways we dont expect. The last line in the book: And somewhere, way, way, way up above, the Grandfather looked down and smiled. (andyes, Sam – it does make the heart feel good.)