Back on topic.
I never knew either of my grandfathers. Never met them. They both died before I was born. My Dad's father, Leo, was a great man by my standards. He came to America by himself at 17. He arrived here on July 12, 1909 on the ship [i]Luisiana[/i] from Palermo Italy. A young kid by himself leaving his family, his home and country to come here - alone.
His brother followed a year later. They came with NOTHING in their pocket and even his surname was changed by immigration who couldn't read his writing and didn't speak Italian.
He died a year before I was born. I only have two pictures of him and a stories. But the family tree he planted here in America has now grown to several hundred. Not a bad apple in the entire bunch either.
Four of his sons fought in WWII, two in Korea. Three of his grandsons fought in Viet Nam. More served without combat. His descendants include doctors, teachers, cops, autoworkers, city councilmen, firefighters, business-owners and many more hard-working Americans.
And me too.
So I've come to the realization (which was no surprise) that I, myself, won't be a "great" person in history; I'll never scale Everest, I won't discover a cure for cancer, I'll never go fight wars for my country, I'm not gonna be a millionaire, I won't become President or Governor and I may never even invent a better mousetrap.
But I do have a son.
And I can only hope he (and I) are as successful at planting a family tree as my Grandfather was when he stepped off the [i]Luisiana[/i] by himself at Ellis Island 94 years ago.
I think of things like this when I see "Saving Private Ryan" - how one good person, though apparently insignificant, can have such profound significance in the grand scheme of things.