How do you summarize a life? How do you wrap up in sentences and paragraphs what could fill a thousand pages in a thousand books black with ink? I have no idea where to begin when talking about A.K. Never have I met a man like him, and never will I again. To say A.K. Gregson is one-of-a-kind is a drastic understatement, so I will just say this, he is my grandfather. My name is Tyler Knott Gregson and I am 24 years old; I got my “Knott” from A.K. and my son, or daughter if a son doesn’t come, will get the name from me. Passing down a name is the very least I could do for all he has done for me, for all I have learned from him, and for all the things he showed me without knowing it.

The memories I have of A.K. will never leave me: I will never forget shell hunting with him on Shell Island, learning how to find the good shells by the bubbles and holes in the sand; I will never forget watching my father’s baseball games with him and Meannie in so many different cities; I will never forget the days he would meet me with my dog Clancy at the corner of my elementary school, ready to walk me home and always with candy in his hands. I will never forget how much money, in how many different places A.K. has hidden; I will never forget his clues on how to find them. I, and I am sure the rest of our family will all agree with this one, will never forget how important it is to be on time; his emphasis on punctuality has been passed onto my dad…remember, with A.K. being ready at 6:30 meant being ready, in the car, and already driving at 6:19. I will never forget how he’d get so excited about what was for dinner; he wouldn’t eat, or want anyone else to eat after about noon, so dinner would not be spoiled. I’ll never forget the stories he told me about the war and life on the railroad; the way he could tell a story was magic, absolute magic. I will never forget his passion for the Grand Canyon. I will never forget his passion for sports: playing them in his youth, watching them as he aged. My dad and I always used to joke that A.K. would watch Checkers, Tiddly-Winks, or marbles if it was on ESPN…as long there was competition, and there’d be a winner, A.K. would watch.

I will miss A.K. more than I could possibly express, and more than I will possibly understand for a long, long time. A.K. is a man that makes all other men feel just a little bit inadequate when comparing themselves. He once told me that my initials, T.K. Gregson, stood for “Tough Kid,” and I have been trying all my life to live up to that. A.K. is tough, one of the toughest men I’ve known, but he was so perfectly balanced with a tenderness that everyone, everyone was instantly drawn to. Hamlet, the Gregson’s, the Grand Canyon, and anyone that ever met him, had to say one of the most difficult goodbye’s we’ve ever had to say.

Thank You A.K., for everything you’ve shown me. Thank You A.K, and thank you Meannie for having a son that any parent would be so proud to have; thank you for turning him into the father that every son needs, my father. A.K. I will never forget you, thank you for showing me the way a life should be led. I Love You A.K., now and always.