My grandpa's name was Robert Vester Owen although he went by "Ves." He was the 11th of 15th children of Benjamin and Jane Owen. He had a very interesting life. He was born in 1880 and he saw the world change a lot during his life. He served in World War I. He drove a stage coach for part of his life. Mostly he was a farmer and then he worked for the railroad in Portland, Oregon. He didn't get married until he was 40 years old to my grandmother Olevia Purinton Owen. My mom, Eileen Jane Owen, was their youngest child.
Grandpa died when I was only four years old--same age as some of his great great grandchildren are now so I don't remember him very much. However there are a couple of things that I remember very clearly that I want to share with you.
When I was little, we had to drive about four hours to go from our house to our grandparents's house in Portland, Oregon. They lived in on the bottom floor of an old house and to get up to the house you had to drive up a dirt driveway through some trees and rose bushes to reach the house. I have a clear memory of driving up in our car and seeing my grandpa and grandma waiting together on the porch. I remember thinking that they had been waiting all day just to see me. I remember that my grandpa would hug me and I knew that he loved me so much.
My grandparents had a round kitchen table where we would eat great dinners that my grandmother would cook using her wood burning stove. I can remember my grandpa singing after dinner. He was a very good singer, like my mother and aunt were as well. He would sometimes sing for shows at Church and in the community.
My grandfather also wrote poetry. I didn't know that when I was a little girl, but when I was older, my mom gave me a small book with some of his poetry. One of my favorite poems that he wrote was called: "To Robert Jr." which was my Uncle Bob.
There's a race to be won
When the day is done.
And a place,
In the Race
For you.
I am wearing your colors
And hope,
At the end,
To cheer
When I see them come through.
I memorized that poem when I was younger, because even though it was written to my Uncle Bob, I believe that my Grandpa loves me and will be waiting for me at the end of my race....just like I will be for each of you----a long, long time from now.
