worldmegan

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Mac Morris

If you’d like, you can read parts one, two, and three, before reading on. I always knew that my Grampa Mack was an amazing guy, but I don’t think I realized that he did the very things I have come to respect most: He didn’t settle for jobs that weren’t right for him, and when [...]

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The beginning of this story, told to me by my Dad, can be found here. The next part is right here. Mack had already married Mina by the time he hit his thirties, but they hadn’t had my father or my Aunt Joan yet. They were waiting for the Depression to end before having children. [...]

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The beginning of this story, told to me by my Dad, can be found here. After his resignation from the New York City Department of Welfare, Mack looked for a whole lot of different jobs. One job he took for awhile was building those ski-ball machines—working in a ski-ball machine factory. Another time, he got [...]

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My Dad told me this story. What you need to understand about Grampa Mack is that he was always pretty shy, but the man had principles. Growing up in New York City, he always felt compelled to rescue the underdog; he’d frequently jump into fights to rescue smaller kids being picked on, and whathaveyou. (For [...]

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