Glenn was my Dad's biological father. My Dad, Everett Holseth, called me to the kitchen one day during the Summer of 1985. I was 8 years old at the time. My Dad told me there was somebody on the phone who wanted to talk to me. I took the phone and said hello, he asked me my name and I told him. He asked me if I knew that he was my Grandpa, and I said no, I didn't. I was only a child so honesty was the only policy. I don't remember the entire conversation, but I specifically remember him telling that he wanted to take me fishing. I said that I would really like that, that it was nice to meet him, then handed the phone back to my Dad and ran off to play. I didn't know until years later that he had called because he knew his time was short, and I imagine he wanted to apologize to my Dad for not being around. He passed away the following year. My Dad and my Uncle Charlie, Glenn's other biological son, went to his funeral but didn't take me because I was too young, and I believe they probably wanted to say good-bye in their own way. I would have liked that fishing trip.
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