Sam was more than just a man holding signs. He was my grandfather.
When I was in middle school, I used to ride the bus past 60th Avenue and yell out the window, “Grandpa Sammy! That’s my grandpa!” to all the kids on the bus. Most of them didn’t believe me. I always felt a mix of pride and frustration in those moments, because I knew who he was even if they didn’t.
He came to many of my sporting events. He was always at our family gatherings. He never let me forget the stories about holding me as a baby and showing me all the different birds. He had a way of noticing things most people rushed past, and he tried to pass that same awareness on to me. Those are memories I’ll always cherish…