The fingerprints of my grandfather are forever etched on my life. He taught me how to change the oil in my car, how to weld and fabricate parts. I'll never forget one particular day that I brought him a fork that I wanted to install on my mountain bike. The only problem was that the threads were the wrong size and the metal tube was too long. Any other grandpa would have said to go buy another one that fit! But my Russian grandpa had a shop where magic happened and any problem was apt to be solved. So we (well, "he") measured the tube length, took concise measurements of the thread pattern and we proceeded to re-thread the top tube of this bicycle fork in my grandpa's shop. By the end of the day I was back on my mountain bike and ready to charge the hills. As long as I live, I'll never forget the lessons he taught me and the kindness he showed me. I miss my grandpa dearly. I am so glad that my children were able to spend time with him and as they grow, I count wait to recount all of the stories of my time spent with my grandpa. -Scott
Here is a photo from this past Christmas when we spent the day with grandma and grandpa Drobshoff. Enjoy.
