06 May 2025

Dear Grandpa Glover, From the Granddaughter You Never Met

Lately, I’ve been sorting and scanning old family photographs. As you can imagine, spending time with these images, especially of people I never had the chance to meet, makes me wonder what it would have been like to know them in person. One of those faces belongs to my paternal grandfather, Harry Glover, who lived from 6 May 1883 (142 years ago today) to 6 September 1950. I never met him, but through stories, family history research, and old photos, I’ve begun to feel a quiet connection. To explore that feeling, I decided to write him a letter, something personal, reflective, and from the heart. 

Dear Grandpa Glover,

Even though we never had the chance to meet, I’ve thought of you often. My name is Brenda Rae Leyndyke, and I’m the daughter of your son, Bruce. I live in Kalamazoo now, but I spent many years in Battle Creek, where your sister Adeline lived and where your mother, Hattie, lived for a short time. People tell me I look like Grandma Glover, and I take that as a real compliment.

Your son, Bruce, my dad, lived a long, full life. He passed away at the age of 93. You never met my mother, Audrey, but she and Dad were married for over sixty years. They were a great match, especially because they both loved sports. I didn’t inherit that sports bug, though. I’ve always been more like you in that way.

Over the years, my dad shared stories about his life growing up in Hazel Park, and about you and Grandma. One story he told with a chuckle was about falling out of your Reo car. He wasn’t sure who was more rattled, you or him. How did you feel when that happened? He also told the story of the only time you spanked him, after he swore at school. I’ve often wondered if that was something you wanted to do, or if it was just part of being a good parent.

Dad talked a lot about his love of sports as a kid, and I was always curious why you didn’t attend his games. I wonder what kept you away. Was it work, shyness, or just the way things were at the time? He did say you loved to fish. Did you have any other hobbies? I imagine you out on a quiet lake, casting a line. I like to picture sitting beside you in a boat, peppering you with questions. You’d probably have told me to hush so we wouldn’t scare the fish!

One place where I feel especially close to you is Point Betsie. I’ve read that you lived there with your family, and I would love to know more about what your life was like during that time. Were you able to be a teenager there, or were you expected to help run the lighthouse? What was your mother, Hattie, like? I have her Bible, and it’s one of my most treasured possessions.

You have a grandson, Neil, my brother, and he works as a cost estimator for PepsiCo. I discovered that you were a cost estimator too, for Chrysler Corporation. You probably wouldn’t recognize the car industry now! We even have cars that run on electricity!

Dad started his first teaching and coaching job the September you died, seven years before I was born. He went on to teach for forty years and coached for nearly fifty. I think he got that passion from Grandma. I even found a photo of her on a high school basketball team.

Grandma lived fifteen more years after you passed. She married a former Marquette classmate, Ray Bell. Sadly, she died of cancer. I had cancer too, at age 22, thyroid cancer. I always wondered what kind she had. Dad said it was throughout her neck, and I’ve often wondered if it may have been thyroid cancer too. I wish I had gotten to spend more time with both of you. You could have told me many stories, I am sure. My dad was a wonderful man with qualities I am sure you and Grandma instilled in him.

I’m curious how you met Grandma. Did you know her before you married your first wife, Emma? There are so many things I would love to ask you. I’ve been researching your family history for the past fifteen years. Did you know your grandparents, Samuel and Adeline Glover? I’ve learned some remarkable things about our family. Did you know you have ancestors who came over on the Mayflower? You come from a long line of patriots.

One of my favorite memories was taking Mom and Dad to Marquette. We visited your grave, and Dad placed flowers there. It was a quiet, powerful moment. Sadly, Grandma Glover wasn’t buried beside you. Ray Bell was too cheap to send her back to Marquette, and she’s buried in Canada instead. I have pictures from that trip that I cherish.

There’s still so much I’d love to know. Dad said you were a reserved man, and maybe you wouldn’t have welcomed all my questions. I understand that. I’m the same way. I don’t always like talking about myself either. But maybe you would have told me stories about your parents or your brothers and sisters. I especially wonder what it was like when your brother, Merle, joined the Canadian army in World War I. He went on to become a lieutenant colonel in the U.S. Army. He must have made the family proud.

My dad tells of the times you would take him to meet your brother, Claude, as he pulled into the Munising railyard. My dad made it sound like you were close to Claude. I'd love to hear more stories of you and him growing up.

Even though I never got to meet you, I feel like I’ve come to know you through Dad’s stories and the traces you left behind. You’re a part of me, of who I am, and where I come from.

Forever thinking of you,

Your granddaughter,

Brenda Rae

Photo Source: Photograph of Harry Glover from the personal family photo collection of Brenda Leyndyke, Kalamazoo, Michigan. Privately held by author.

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