Some of my earliest memories I have of my Grandfather are of him in his wood shop in the garage of my grandparents house. Papa was always making something and I just loved being down there, hanging out with him. I remember the smells of sawdust and wood glue. I remember he was always in his overalls and had at least two thick charcoal pencils in his chest pocket at all times. There was always a saw of some sort going and loudly playing over the sound of the saw was the melodious tunes coming from his old radio.