My great-grandfather was already an elderly man when I was a child. Most of my memories are of him sitting in his chair quietly, watching TV. His name was C. P. Pierce, but his nickname was "Skinny". All the adults called him "Skinny", but we children called him "Popsie". He owned a motorcycle shop, and I spent many hours playing there. My sister and I would shine the motorcycles, beg (お願いする、必死で頼む) the adults for dimes (10 cents) to buy Coca Colas from the vending machine, and play with the old fashioned cash register. It was a fun and magical place for me and my sister.
When I was a child, I couldn't imagine my great-grandparents as young people. But they lived many interesting and full years before I was ever born. My great-grandfather loved motorcycles, motorcycle racing, and motorcyclists. He and my great-grandmother traveled all over the United States by motorcycle. They told me that they traveled to every state-- except (以外) Hawaii and Alaska--by motorcycle.
When he was young, my great-grandfather traveled with a carnival (サーカスみたいな移動するお祭り） performing in a carnival act (興行) called "The Wall of Death". He rode his motorcycle around and around the inside of a circular wooden wall.
This photo isn't my great-grandfather. It's a photo I found on the internet of the same carnival act. My great-grandmother sold tickets for the show. She didn't perform in "The Wall of Death" act.
That was before they settled down and opened a motorcycle shop in Texas.
This is the motorcycle shop that my sister and I played in. We loved "helping" and shining the motorcycles in the show room. It was a very noisy place. Mechanics repaired motorcycles, and the sound of motorcycle engines often filled the air.
Sometimes young motorcyclists would come with broken motorcycles. If they didn't have money to pay for repairs, my great-grandfather would let them borrow his tools for free, and they would fix their motorcycles by themselves outside on the front sidewalk.
Here's my great-grandfather at that time.
And this is Skinny Pierce in his later years. He was on the cover of a local newspaper.
My great-grandfather passed away when I was a teenager. Many people came to his funeral (お葬式) on motorcycles. I remember seeing very tough looking men (ちょっと怖そうな男たち) with long hair and black leather jackets go to the front of the funeral hall to say goodbye to my great-grandfather. I was so surprised to see that they were crying.
Typical funerals in the U.S. have two parts. One part is the actual funeral ceremony, which is usually held at a church or a funeral hall. Often the casket (棺桶) is left open for the funeral ceremony, so that people can walk up and say goodbye. After the funeral ceremony is over, there is usually a burial ceremony (埋葬式?), which is held at a different location, at a cemetery (墓地）. The custom in the U.S. is for the funeral guests to travel from the church or funeral hall to the cemetery in their cars. There is usually a police escort, and all of the cars turn on their headlights to show that they are part of the funeral procession.
Other cars on the road treat a funeral procession the same way they treat a fire truck or ambulance. They stop, they pull over to the side of the road, and they let the cars in the funeral procession pass, to show respect.
I remember that in my great-grandfather's funeral procession, there were many motorcycles.
I didn't know my great-grandfather very well. He was already elderly, and very quiet, when I was a child. I look forward to meeting him in heaven some day, and getting to know him better.