Wayne Grass

I believe all seven of us grandkids can agree, that it’s not junk, it’s Grandpa’s collection. Grandpa loved going to sales and finding bargains. It doesn’t matter what condition it was in or how old it was, as long as he got a good deal on it, it would come in handy one day. He enjoyed taking us for rides on the 4-wheeler and later the golf cart and telling us where everything was and in minute detail where the treasure came from and what it was used for. Grandpa had thousands of treasures and much to Grandma’s dismay many of them were on display in the front yard. At some point all of us encountered him bringing home some new additions to the collection and grandma standing at the kitchen window with her hands on her hips saying “Good God what did he buy now!” With all of Grandpa’s treasure’s came their own special spot on the family farm. Almost everyone has borrowed something from my Grandpa at some point and has found out that it doesn’t matter what you borrowed, where you got it or how much junk it was under when you found it, you better put it back exactly where you found it because when Grandpa needed it the next time, if it wasn’t exactly where it should be he’d be coming after you. All of us have worked at Grassland Farm, better known as Wayne’s World, doing odd jobs or whatever Grandpa thought needed to be done. It doesn’t matter what way you thought was fastest or most efficient you were going to do it his way or know the reason. I think we’ve all secretly cussed him up one side and down the other for his stubborn ways but looking back I think he enjoyed it and was laughing at us the whole time. Working for Grandma usually meant cleaning the house, mowing the lawn or working in the garden. Grandpa on the other hand usually meant taking a ride on the golf cart to the back 40 to find some piece of equipment in the weeds to work on. Many a time Brian thought to himself 8.3 cents a minute is what I’m making to do this. But Grandma always made sure that any of Grandpa’s hired help had plenty of coke and little debbies when we were allowed to take a break. But Pappaw never knew that Grandma said she was paying us $5 an hour but if you were working with the goats it was $6 or for Grandpa sometimes you even got $7 depending on how awful the chore was. At an early age Jason learned the hard way that no means no after Pappaw tied his newly acquired whistle in a knot and disposed of it at the end of the driveway, never to be seen again. Another valuable lesson learned from Grandpa is to always stay cool, calm and collected, especially after Jason and I went under the same barbed wire fence a week apart both ending up in the ER with lovely scars on a face for the rest of our lives. We had the same physician in the ER and that doctor told us that the fence should probably be moved, but don’t worry, it’s still there, Grandpa thought everyone else should have learned from the two of us by now. Grandpa was notorious for putting up electric fence because it required the least amount of work. Sam remembers one time asking Grandpa if he could touch the electric fence out by the garden. Grandpa told him he could touch the electric fence if he wanted to and it would hurt but it wouldn’t hurt nearly as bad as the hole Grandma would bite in his rear for letting Sam touch the fence. I remember one time driving to the middle of now where and of course MapQuest was just wrong and Grandpa always had a better way to get there. We may have taken a goat trail and crossed a wooden bridge with the boards not nailed in to get there (and I think he may have been lost, not that he’d admit that) but we always somehow made it there in one piece. One time Mom and I drove down to Southern Indiana and we took Grandpa with us to get him out of Grandma’s hair for the day. We stopped in Worthington at this hole in the wall restaurant that “had the best tenderloins he’d ever had.” Well, let me tell you it took so long to get our tenderloin sandwiches and onion rings and I was so hungry from our adventure that I ordered pie b

Maxine you may not remember me but I think of the Park family often sorry about your loss ,but have faith a nd you and yours will be ok Jerry Van Horn

If I had to use one word to describe my dad it would be ‘wheeler-dealer’ or ‘horsetrader’. My dad got the biggest thrill out of buying something for a $1 and selling it to someone for $5. He always said ‘Something is only worth what another man would pay for it.’ He would always make money and I always lost money when I tried to sell him something. I would like to share some memories I have of spending time with my dad: Traveling all over the US buying Columbia sheep and Charolais cattle Eating pineapple whips at the state fair-only by the Pioneer building The smell of a Muriel cigar Listening to Pasty Cline and Willie Nelson on the cassette player Never seeing my dad in shorts or swim trunks Never taking a non-livestock vacation with my family Staying in low budget motor lodges when buying livestock-very low budget Showing sheep at all of the county fairs and state fair Picking up the Classified Ads and chosing my career for the rest of my life Driving pickup trucks you had to start with a screwdriver Being used as a human gate or weight on the bumper when feeding cows Going to the feed mill every Saturday morning Amazed that he never met a stranger-always found someone he knew wherever we went Running up and down the sidewalk at the rest parks to stay awake after going to a sale Chasing cows at all hours of the night Eating at certain restraunts because he always new where the good food was Teaching me how to stack hay and straw because if it fell off the truck, you picked it up Raking hay in my bikini on the D17 to get a sun tan I have many, many more good memories that I will keep with me for the rest of my life. He taught me most to be independent and accomplish things on my own. We never owned the fanciest of equipment or livestock but we some how always managed to get the job done. What I will miss most about my dad was the ability to call him whenever I wanted to ask him a question about how to do something. He always had the answers. I will also miss his stories. I was going to stay with him on Thursday while Mom and Tess went to the grocery store. I was looking forward to one more story, but unfortunately he passed before I could hear it. I love you dad and I will miss your contrary ways. Kristy ‘Kris’ 6/12/11

I’ve lived across the street from Mr. and Mrs. Grass for the last 7 years. During those years, I’d always make a point to say ‘hi’ if they were out on their golf cart either checking mail, spraying for weeds or whatever. During those times, I’d often get a story or two from Mr. Grass. I recall one Saturday while working in my yard, I noticed a large black snake resting on the shutter next to my bedroom window. Mr Grass was putting up a sign near the road for hay. I didn’t want to look like a fool, so I casually mentioned the snake to Mr Grass. He in turn told me two or three stories about snakes and suggested that I should just leave it alone. That, of course was not what I wanted to hear, so as I reluctantly walked back to my yard, the snake had disappeared and to this day, I only have an occasional sighting or two each year in my garage. So, I no longer park in my garage and I do as Mr. Grass suggested by leaving the snake alone! I always enjoyed listening to his stories and will miss him dearly. I’m so sorry for your loss. Jackie Smith

To all of the Grass family – Sorry for the loss of your father and husband. I always enjoyed seeing Wayne and enjoying his stories. He was always so friendly. Your family is in our thoughts and prayers. David Zielska and family