I was just a grandson-in-law, but I knew him as Grandpa Duane, not as Jack or John or anything else. In fact, I knew him almost as long as I knew my own grandfathers. Some of my favorite memories of him were... - He was always smiling and joking, no matter what. I don't think I ever saw him truly angry or upset.
- He never treated me as an outsider, I had "family status" from day 1 with him, and always felt welcome and comfortable at his house.
- He had a story for every situation. They weren't always "believable", but he would swear they were true, and his kids would back him up.
- He had such a strong emphasis on his family; everything else was secondary.
- Watching him with his great-grandchildren. When the kids were there, his face lit up and there was no other place he would rather be.
- He and uncle Greg took me in as their hunting buddy. I never actually got to hunt with my own grandfathers, so this was special to me.
- When we went deer hunting, he always wanted to leave extra early so we could eat breakfast at that little diner in Dansville. Even though we only made it down there a few times a year with him, he always knew the waitresses by name, and they knew him as well.
- Heading outside during family functions to hang out with him and the uncles (and some of the aunts) to smoke a cigar and have a drink.
- Sunday morning breakfast at his house was always mayhem, with 4 generations of family running around.
- I'm sure his birth certificate was wrong, and his middle name really was Rumpelstiltskin.
I was just a grandson-in-law, but I knew him as Grandpa Duane, not as Jack or John or anything else. In fact, I knew him almost as long as I knew my own grandfathers. Some of my favorite memories of him were... 
