This is my beloved Grandpa in 1978. Look at that beast of a camera! Man, that thing would cause neck injury!

This is exactly how I remember him; always with a camera. Some of my most precious possesions are the hundreds of family photographs I inherited from him.

My Grandpa died in 1988. I was 11. I was devastated.

Tonight as I scanned this image of him, I smiled. Boy would he have loved to use my new camera, my scanner, my Mac. He loved that stuff. I still miss him!

According to my late Grandma (she passed in Nov. '05), this is the last picture of my Grandpa--August 1988. One month before he died.

That's me on the left, blasted neck-gear and all! My sister is on the right.

We didn't know it would be our last time with him. Do we ever know these things? We loved him so much. And still do.

Grandpa, I'll become an expert photographer! Just you watch!!