It's been a sad day around the Appnel household. My grandfather, Walter Appnel, passed away this morning. He was a hero of mine and the toughest SOB I've ever known. Just shy of his 80th birthday, my mother-in-law commented that he was young. In a sense he was, but to have known the story of his life, or at least the parts he told us about, you realize he lived several of our lifetimes.
His father left him and his mother broke and destitute during the depression when he was only 2 year old. 10 years later his father returned for him because he had reached working age. My grandfather told him to go to hell that he never wanted to see him again. (And he didn't.) He lied about his age to join the navy and fight in World War II. It was a better opportunity then what he had going on as a junior high drop out. He worked on a crew firing one of the main guns of a battleship. Firing them over Normandy on D-Day and later over the Pacific as kamikazes rained down from the sky. His mother died while he was in the service. He never got to say goodbye. He almost died himself painting the side of a battleship when his plank broke. He hit the dock below and was knocked out cold before rolling into the sea. Another sailor saved him by diving from the deck into the water and fishing him out. He lost all of his teeth then.
Some time after the war and now back home, he contracted Polio and became quite sick. His second brush with death. A girl he met at the bowling alley came to see him every day in the hospital. He told us, What else could I do, but marry her?
He had two children who gave him 6 grandchildren and 5 great grandchildren (and still counting).
Two year ago we almost lost him. He flat-lined and the doctors brought him back. He spent weeks in the hospital and despite the odds he pulled back from death again. (He finally quit smoking after 60 years.) Yesterday when I heard his chances looked very grim a small part of me thought he might actually cheat death again.
He loved to bowl. It was his life. All of friends, fun and good times revolved around it. He wasn't too bad at it either having rolled a number of 300 (perfect score) games over the years including one just a few years ago.
He loved to play cards. He was a marvelous blitz player that taught me everything I know about that game.
He loved drinking his 7-and-7's and talking to his children and counseling them.
He worked his fingers to the bone. He taught himself to be a carpenter, plumber and electrician to work remodeling homes as his second full-time job that he held most of his working years. He was the seed of the Appnel family hard work ethic.
He also liked to tell it like it is – strains of which still remain through the generations of the Appnel family. He spoke with no filters and with colorful
language. He was the king of the dirty joke one liner.
He was a dedicated family man. Just being together is what matters,
he would tell me. Appropriately enough that is just what the family did the day before he was suddenly admitted to the hospital and passed away.
We love you Pop Pop and will miss you.
<p>It's been a sad day around the Appnel household. My grandfather, Walter Appnel, passed away this morning. He was a hero of mine and the toughest SOB I've ever known. Just shy of his 80th birthday, my mother-in-law commented that he was young. In a sense he was, but to have known the story of his life, or at least the parts he told us about, you realize he lived several of our lifetimes. </p>
<p>His father left him and his mother broke and destitute during the depression when he was only 2 year old. 10 years later his father returned for him because he had reached working age. My grandfather told him to go to hell that he never wanted to see him again. (And he didn't.) He lied about his age to join the navy and fight in World War II. It was a better opportunity then what he had going on as a junior high drop out. He worked on a crew firing one of the main guns of a battleship. Firing them over Normandy on D-Day and later over the Pacific as kamikazes rained down from the sky. His mother died while he was in the service. He never got to say goodbye. He almost died himself painting the side of a battleship when his plank broke. He hit the dock below and was knocked out cold before rolling into the sea. Another sailor saved him by diving from the deck into the water and fishing him out. He lost all of his teeth then. </p>
<p>Some time after the war and now back home, he contracted Polio and became quite sick. His second brush with death. A girl he met at the bowling alley came to see him every day in the hospital. He told us, <q>What else could I do, but marry her?</q></p>
<p>He had two children who gave him 6 grandchildren and 5 great grandchildren (and still counting).</p>
<p>Two year ago we almost lost him. He flat-lined and the doctors brought him back. He spent weeks in the hospital and despite the odds he pulled back from death again. (He finally quit smoking after 60 years.) Yesterday when I heard his chances looked very grim a small part of me thought he might actually cheat death again.</p>
<p>He loved to bowl. It was his life. All of friends, fun and good times revolved around it. He wasn't too bad at it either having rolled a number of 300 (perfect score) games over the years including one just a few years ago.</p>
<p>He loved to play cards. He was a marvelous blitz player that taught me everything I know about that game. </p>
<p>He loved drinking his 7-and-7's and talking to his children and counseling them.</p>
<p>He worked his fingers to the bone. He taught himself to be a carpenter, plumber and electrician to work remodeling homes as his second full-time job that he held most of his working years. He was the seed of the Appnel family hard work ethic. </p>
<p>He also liked to tell it like it is – strains of which still remain through the generations of the Appnel family. He spoke with no filters and with <q>colorful</q> language. He was the king of the dirty joke one liner.</p>
<p>He was a dedicated family man. <q>Just being together is what matters,</q> he would tell me. Appropriately enough that is just what the family did the day before he was suddenly admitted to the hospital and passed away.</p>
<p>We love you Pop Pop and will miss you.</p>
