It was an image of a young male in uniform. I asked James if it was him, and he stated: No, thats Leatherwood. He then informed me a story about how he d fallen ill during the war, and a boy called Hilliard Leatherwood had taken his place. Quickly later Leatherwood was captured by the Germans and executed.
During the week he d go to work. And I d go to school. Then on Saturday nights we d get supper together. There wasnt much guidance. We didnt have critical conversations. He was simply a good man– that was it.
People of New YorkJames always appeared a bit two-dimensional to me. Right before I graduated high school he was confessed to the medical facility with chest discomforts. And I was fishing around in his wallet for an insurance coverage card, when an old black-and-white picture fell out.
People of New YorkMy grandpa constantly seemed like it should have been him instead. He seemed like he owed Leatherwood a financial obligation, and he d been carrying that image for 50 years. For a brief moment I was provided a window into a whole various male.
And without him I dont understand where I d be today. I keep that image of Leatherwood with me, to keep in mind the man who saved my grandpa. And to honor how my grandpa conserved me.
One that had lived a whole life prior to I was born. My grandfather passed away on Thanksgiving Day 2002. He had actually been the only adult member of my family that hadnt declined me.
However he didnt have any say in the matter because he wasnt my biological grandpa. James was my grannys 2nd spouse, and she abused him as much as me. He had been given two medals throughout World War II, which he kept in his cabinet– however he wasnt the alpha male type.
Humans of New YorkI was raised by my grandmother. And any little thing could activate her. One time I got mad and informed her: Youre not my mother.
I was only six years old. She put me on a plane to go live with my mom for a month, who I didnt even know. My grandpa James needed to drop me off at the airport– and both people were sobbing.
Human Beings of New YorkMy grandma strolled all over him. When my grandparents got divorced, we moved into a little apartment or condo together.
People of New YorkFeedback to this story:
” We can find love and acceptance in weird locations. And I like that you are bring on the photo legacy of the guy who took his place that day. He showed you enjoy and kindness, letting you into the light that beyond blood, family can likewise be anyone who truly and genuinely cares.
” Crying my eyes out. The a single person who enjoyed and cared for you was not biologically associated however that doesnt matter. Blood doesnt make a household, Love does.”– Antoinette
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About the author: This story initially appeared on Humans of New York Facebook page and is published here with permission. For more remarkable stories and photography buy the book HUMANS by Brandon Stanton.
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Humans of New YorkI was raised by my grandma. Humans of New YorkMy grandma strolled all over him. Human Beings of New YorkJames always seemed a bit two-dimensional to me. Human Beings of New YorkMy grandfather constantly felt like it needs to have been him instead. I keep that photo of Leatherwood with me, to keep in mind the male who saved my grandfather.
” What a lovely story. I make certain you are making your Grandad a lot more proud daily by carrying on the way he lived and honouring his memory.”– Ata Rahman