Favorite grandpa story, comedy only

My grandfather passed away before I turned 3. Sure wish I had some funny stories.

One time I was driving my grandpa home from the post office. I was 16 or 17 or so and very happy to be driving his nice Dodge Ram truck. He was not in good health.

All of a sudden, he demanded I pull over immediately. I asked him why and he yelled at me to pull over. We were on a country highway and I did at once, just as I was instructed.

He then opened the passenger door, pulled down his pants, used the door as a brace, and shite all over the side and shoulder of the road. It was all over in an instant.

Then, he told me to give him my shirt so he could wipe his arse! I remember asking him what was wrong with his shirt and why can't he use it. I ended up finding an old towel in the back of the truck he used.

Once we got back on the road there was a period of awkward silence, understandably. He broke the silence by asking me to not tell Grandma about this. I never have and never will.

I sure miss him.

My grandfather boxed in the Army and was a good fighter

Right after leaving the army (my grandpa lied about his age and enlisted at 16 BTW and fought in the Korean War as a child) he and my uncle worked at the same place and two men there were bragging about how they joined a gym and were boxing every day.

My grandfather was talking to them and said how much he wanted to try boxing one day and would like to spar with them.

My uncle caught on and said "Ray, these men are pros they will beat you up" My uncle and my grandpa kept the hustle going until bets were made

The next day after work my grandfather beat the crap out of the two men back to back.

One of the men years later told us how neither one of them laid the first punch on my grandpa and how he just knocked them silly.



Another one was all of the land around my grandparent's ranch was on fire and my grandpa was trying to keep his house from burning down. The guy from the neighboring farm came over and was blaming my grandpa for the fire and grandpa told the man to leave him alone while he was trying to save his ranch. The man kept on until my grandpa had enough and laid him out with one punch.

That neighbor was also the Ag teacher at school and from that day on the class would tell the Ag teacher if he didn't shut up they were going to sick Mr Ray on him.

This of course was in the 60s when times were different.



Not a funny story but a story of different times


My grandfather grew up poor and had 12 brothers and sisters and he was the 3rd oldest. When he joined the Army at 16 he was paid $50 per week. He kept $10 per week for himself since his living expenses were covered by the Army and sent the rest back home to help his parents pay for his siblings. FWIW, he died owning a 200-acre ranch and a successful business he passed down to his son. His work ethic was unmatched driven by growing up so poor.

When my mother hosted a family and friends get together for my graduation (and departure to basic training) my grandparents of course came.

My grandmother (mom’s mom) was an owlie ol battle axe always scowling where as my grandpa was much easier going. My dad used to say the only reason grandpa stopped at the bar each day after work was to get a little greased to make dealing with grandma easier.

Anyway, about 3 hours into the party grandma came into the kitchen asking where grandpa was because “she was ready to go”, my brother in law says “I saw him go out back about 20 minutes ago”. We look out the window and there is grandpa, standing in a circle of people taking a huge hit off a joint.

My grandmother about came unglued. Here is grandpa probably 70+ at the time getting stoned with a few guys from the El Forastero MC that we’re friends of the family.

Still brings laughs to all my siblings when it’s brought up.

Every year my grandfather would give up whiskey for Lenten for little Miller Ponies, then Easter day hit the whiskey again and pass out on the living room floor before Easter lunch

We had an old camp that had a brick fireplace. A lot of the bricks needed to be replaced so my grandfather decided we here going to take the whole thing down.

My dad was outside with the sledge hammer hitting the bricks and my grandfather was inside pulling them. My grandfather would tell my dad "go" as a sign to hit the bricks. Well after about 30 minutes my grandmother asked my grandfather a question and he said "no". My dad said he could see my grandfathers fingers as the head of the sledgehammer was about to collide. He rolled around on the ground holding his hand for about 10 minutes.

He broke 3 fingers and never said a word to my dad about it again.

My grandfather use to walk the neighborhood with a long stick, we all knew it was in case a stray dog attacked him, but he use to tell us it was to keep all the women from attacking him..

I was 5 or 6 and had received a cap pistol (the ones you had to feed a roll of caps in) for Christmas and I ran around shooting the thing inside the house, disturbing everyone. I was an "active" kid.

Paw-paw commented on what a fine pistol it was and wanted to know was it hard to shoot. I proudly displayed it and showed him how the caps would roll up every time it shot and handed it to him. Paw-paw shot and shot and shot the thing until all the caps had been fired, handed it back to me and smiled, "Yep, it's a fine pistol."

I was out of caps now.

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My grandpa came through the Depression so he was firmly in the "waste not, want not" mindset.

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My grandmother was the same way. She outlived 2 husbands and 2 "boyfriends." When first boyfriend died they buried him at Arlington being that he was a WWII POW when his B17 was shot down over Germany, he was actually in the famous Stalag 17.

When my uncle and she were flying to Washington, after their in-flight breakfast, my grandmother had a leftover bagel. She proceeded to whip out an old Time-Picayune newspaper bag, put the bagel in it and told my uncle we can eat it later in case we get hungry. My uncle told her, I'm sure we can find a place in DC to eat lunch.