It was a family tradition to spend Thanksgiving week in my parents' hometown in West Virginia.

Most of my relatives were still living there on both sides of the family, except for my family, because my dad moved away for work. Every year of my youth, we made the three-hour trek from our Elk River home to spend the holiday with them.

As a child, I loved hearing the old stories and listening to all the adventures my cousins had been up to, as well as the conversations the adults had about everything from college football to the health concerns of our elders.

I never recall having a bad time during the visit, but to be honest, as I grew older, I was a little bored with sitting around. My grandfather, as always, had a solution in mind.

I have often written about how influential both my gra

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