We all remember Sandy as the quintessential curmudgeon in the style of Walter Matheau of Grumpy Old Men. In fact, we often called him the Grump as we had previously called his father.

When his father died Sandy assumed the dubious distinction of being the old Grump. He played the part well.

As most grumps are he was often brusque , ill-humored, irritable and full of stubborn ideas and opinions.

Many was the time on Grenadier after a days duck hunting after Sandy and I had both had a rammer or two and Couch and Porter had long since gone to bed we would argue about anything and nothing. It was great fun.

Neither of us paid any attention to the other. I was never wrong. Sandy was never wrong.

As Sandy began to slur his words  and  closed one eye because he was seeing two of me, I knew I had him. He would then stumble off to bed muttering to himself and wake up the next day not remembering one thing we talked about.

I fear I am being a bit tough on my old buddy and I can hear him now roaring in anger above..

I am hard pressed and I do find it difficult but I must say a few kind things about the old devil.

Sandy was always dead honest, true to himself, and a loyal and supportive friend and did not suffer fools easily as Captain Bill Couch my godson recently wrote me after learning of Sandys' passing.

It has often been said that children of a young age have the innate ability to discern a good person from a bad one.

If that be a true measure of a man's worth, Sandy stands out as a man above most men.

All our children adored the old rascal and will miss him sorley as will I.