Post #500: A Special Occasion.

My maternal grandfather didn't have a higher education, and never stayed at one job too long. But he had common sense and street smarts.

In 1965, when I was 12 years old, he told me to save silver half dollars. I got mostly Walking Liberties, but occasionally settled for a Franklin. Apparently Grampa Meyer was pleased with my efforts, so for my 14th Birthday he sent me a silver dollar.
It probably picked up its tone over the years I kept the coin in the envelope, wrapped in the letter.














In the late '30s Grampa worked as a prison guard at the Federal Penitentiary in Pontiac, Illinois. I still have his revolver, and the note I found under the grips. But we'll save that for another time.