Continue Reading→I was fortunate enough to be asked by the fifth grade teachers at my child’s school to speak to their classes about World War II. Why was I asked? My grandfather happened to be a German Prisoner of War. He was an amazing man that added so much to my life. Aside from being a loving grandfather, he was a phenomenal storyteller. Whenever I’m feeling low on creativity, I fondly remember how he could always imagine a story on demand, despite being tired from work, etc. Each story and every character was made up on the spot just to entertain me. His imagination was staggering. The year before my son came into this world, my dear grandfather left it. My son would never have the chance to meet him, but would bear his name throughout his life. I’ve often tried to retell those whimsical stories in an effort to give my son a sense of the wonder my grandfather instilled in me. Even as a working creative, I feel I fell short. No one could tell those stories like the master himself. I was hoping that these stories would instill some type of bond between my son and my grandfather since they never met. The bond happened naturally and in a far more magical way then I ever dreamed of. You see as part of my presentation, my grandmother loaned me my grandfathers POW flag. It was presented to him during a ceremony at Shaw Air Force base a few years before he died. It was ceremoniously folded by U.S. soldiers and handed to my grandmother “on behalf of a proud and grateful nation“. The only time it was unfolded again during my grandfather’s lifetime, was about a week before he passed. He unfolded it, admired it, and then ceremoniously refolded it by himself.