Since high school I wanted to name my first son Jack Fisher after my paternal grandfather. Growing up Grandpa Jack was my all-time favorite guy. He was a mid-western Grandpa in the most traditional of senses- firm yet affectionate, generous but not indulgent. To me he was everything a Grandpa was supposed to be. He died when I was a sophomore in high school and I still miss him every day.
Grandpa Jack was born and raised in the Palmer Woods area of Detroit (and no we are not related to that other "Fisher" family of Palmer Woods, although that would be nice). He moved to Ohio as an adult, but maintained a love for the state of Michigan, particularly the Detroit Lions and Harbor Springs in summer time. His collegiate flag was more of the scarlet and grey variety than maize and blue, I can overlook this one {major} character flaw.
Growing up his visits were highly anticipated. He would bring us to the toy store and let us pick any toy we liked (although there was heavy lobbying for the guys to always get a yellow Tonka truck) and he would take Alison and me to JCPenney to buy matching dresses for the holidays. Despite it's less than steller fashion selections I will never hate this store. Fond memories are stronger than polyester blends.
Mostly I liked having him around because of his laugh. He seemed to genuinely love spending time with his grandkids. As a 0-16 year old nothing is better than having an adult deem you worthy of his or her time. Everyone should have a grandpa like Jack.
He wasn't only amazing to his grandchildren. He loved his wife Jane (the original- here you were thinking I was the original Jane Fisher, but in fact I am only a copy) and was a hard worker. His basement was filled with deal toys from years in sales. Growing up I found these very impressive. Occasionally he let us take a deal toy home from the basement collection. This was so cool. I mean what 10 year old doesn't want a plaque from Sara Lee for excellence in sales 1973? And on that note, Sara Lee butter crumb coffee cake was always served for breakfast. He was nothing if not loyal.
He taught me super important life lessons like a lady should always wear a skirt. I own one pair of dress pants. I think I wore them once in 2009. For his funeral I purchased a black leather skirt. A staple in my wardrobe ever since. Black leather skirts always make me think of him. Funny because I am pretty sure he was not a black leather skirt kind of guy. He probably would have told me I looked lovely anyways. He was that type of guy.
He was the kind of guy to have a fridge in the garage stocked with every kind of soda. Coke, Diet Coke, Sunkist, 7 UP, Vernors, Fresca . . . After his death the garage fridge was one of my first stops. It was basically empty. I cried. He was really gone.
It is my prayer that our son share more than just a name with Grandpa Jack, may he also be blessed with yellow Tonka trucks, a full fridge and Sara Lee coffee cake.
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| Jack Fisher on his 75th birthday |
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| J. Fisher Lardo celebrating Veteran's day in his camo. Grandpa Jack served in the army, "guarding" the Panama Canal during WWII. Yes I realize Panama was not a hotbed of WWII activity. |
