Late for church on Sunday because he would push our morning fishing trip to the last possible second.  Countless times I felt like I was stuck out on the water because he did not want to go in.  "One more cast!" he would say and of course he would get bit (or said he did) so that meant five more casts in his book.  That man fished harder than anyone I have ever known and it wasn't tournament fishing it was because he just loved it that much.  This value was instilled in me from a young age, and for that I thank him. 

Rest in peace Grandpa, there is not a day that goes by when I am on the water that I don't think of my childhood days with you fishing that small lake in northern Wisconsin.