Only a life lived for others is worth living....

Hello everyone! Here is an update of the second day of our trip....

After our late night arrival in Ogden, we were absolutely dead. The morning was spent in a small local coffee shop, checking emails, and getting posts. Iced coffees and lattes were the order of the day. So tired were we, that there is not one single photo of the morning. So, the picture narrative only starts up at our picnic in the park.

 More accurately, two members of the party were exhausted, the third was still bright eyed and bushy tailed!

During our picnic, a friend came to play. He was so cute!

Making introductions. (Jess, stop screaming, you'll hurt something....)

Beneath the spreading chestnut tree, the happy family sits....

The long arm of the law takes a self portrait....

Yesterday we we able to make the most important stop of our trip, and meet the person whom we drove all of this way to see, Tiffany's great-grandfather. We found him in a small apartment, the same room he has lived in for the last 33 years, since his wife died. It is not an expensively furnished room. In fact, almost all of the items in the room were things that neither Tiff nor I would look twice at during our yard sale-ing excursions. However, along one wall of the living room are a series of picture frames, covering a bookshelf, the television cabinet and nearly all of the floor. Opposite of these picture frames sits a man, in a large easy chair. A man with the kindest eyes I have ever seen. He has lived within the same ten block area of Ogden for his entire 94 years, ("Except for one year in the army, back in '36", he informs us), spent 40 years as a machinist with the Union Pacific Railroad walking 30 minutes to work starting out at $.21 per hour (yes that is cents), every day, and spent his retirement working in soup kitchens. "It felt good to give back to people," he said with a soft smile. His days are now spent watching television, and looking at the pictures of family and friends that occupy most of his living room. "I have great-grandkids that wouldn't know me if they passed me on the street," a comment made with a chuckle, without the least touch of bitterness, but you can see that he longs for human interaction. The only person he sees every day is another tenant in is apartment, who comes in the mornings to help him get dressed, and make his breakfast, not for pay, but just to help out a friend. With all of this, he loves life, gets to church every Sunday, has a Bible sitting on the end-table next to his chair. If the Lord allows someone to become so old, and so wise, they must be something special. When we left, it was with tears in our eyes, and a promise to write him letters every month.

The difference of five generations, and 94 years.....

These are the things that matter.

In the same neighborhood as Grandpa, stands a stately stone home, which Tiff had to stop and see.

 

That is a serious front porch. 

Tiff made me leave my books at home, so I would spend time with her. But, I found a couple of kids who were willing to share!

Our hotel for the night was built in 1927. A wonderful example of Italian Renaissance Revival style.

The view from our eighth story suite.

Dinner time! 

While waiting for our food at the MacCool's Irish Public House, we played a bit of shuffleboard.

Look at that form, such concentration and grace!

Tiffany's grilled salmon salad. She at the WHOLE thing, it was that good....

Getting a new hat!

The hotel, from the outside. Right side, four windows from the top, we occupied all three windows on that side....

Ogden night life.... 

After our late night of driving, we hit the sack early! I have my bed, so where is Tiff sleeping?

We will catch you on our next day!