Thursday, October 8th 2015, started out like any other day. I woke up, went to class, talked with my friends, and so on. It wasn’t until I was on my way to lunch my cousin came up to me and informed me that my great grandpa, Hyrum Watkins Kershaw, had died earlier that day. I didn’t cry upon hearing that he was dead. I simply wasn’t sad. I am not saying that I didn’t love my grandpa, but he was of the age where he was no longer happy. He weighed only 67 pounds and couldn’t really move much without help anymore. He had lived a long life having died at 93 years old. He was also lonely having his loving wife die 18 years earlier. It was simply time for him to go. However it wasn’t until he died that I was able to learn his life story and realized he is my hero.
Hyrum Watkins Kershaw was born on January 4th, 1922 to 16 year old Annie Melissa Kershaw. In his personal history, he states, “Father, unnamed. Without question I was unwanted.” When he was 3 years old his mother married Carl Conrad Anderson. His stepfather was a mean and cruel man. My …show more content…
He would stand up to his height of 4’11 and give me a hug. He was proud of his military service. He loved to tell stories about his missions in the war. I wish that I had spent more time learning of these stories and the stories about his life, instead I would only give him a hug and go play with my cousins. I now look back and wish I had taken the time to learn more about his life while he was still hear, and to have been able to here these stories from his own mouth, for these stories tell of my grandpa’s amazing character, the character that has made him my hero. They speak of the great courage he had to run away from home at only the age of nine, and the courage he had to sign up to fight in the war. They tell of his joy for life even though life wasn’t easy for him. They also teach me of his humility, kindness, and love for