“I go around to schools and I tell kids all I can about the war…I was in the Battle of the Bulge. I was 22 and the other boys called me “Grandaddy”. Most of what I have to say is too hard, too vulgar for children to hear about the war. I don’t know how we lived, in the snow, in the cold, out in the woods. The city boys didn’t fare too well, all they ever knew was concrete. They didn’t know what leaves to eat, how to survive, how to even build a fire. I missed my momma when I was over there.
This is a picture of her loom. It hung in the kitchen. I learned to weave because I was always in the kitchen with my momma. You see, you take scraps, old clothes, upholstery, even blue jeans and you feed it through right here. And this is what you can make.You can make a rug, something good.”