The Death of a Hero

Many of you already know, but some of you don't.

Last Saturday, very early in the morning, my grandfather died. He was my father's father and lived in San Diego. He is survived by my grandmother.

The reason I called this post, "The Death of a Hero," is because much of my grandfather's life was spent in service to this country. He spent years on a ship, reached the rank of Master Chief and guided countless recruits through boot camp. To me, that level of service to the country and the people who live here makes him a hero.

Another reason I call him a hero is because he was a father to my father when he didn't have to be. I don't know all the details, but my biological paternal grandfather is a man named George Perry. He, however, is not my grandfather. My grandfather's name is Ray Weiss and he's the one who my dad always knew as his dad. He legally adopted my dad and my uncle Mike when they were both very young and faithfully raised them.

There's one more reason I call my grandfather a hero. He instilled a sense of duty, honor, discipline and service into my father, which he also passed on to me.

I still don't know the exact cause of his death. He was not the picture of health, but nobody was expecting this. It happened without warning. It shocked my grandmother and all of us.

He will be missed.

Left to right: David Weiss, Dan Weiss, Ray Weiss and Pat Weiss.
Four generations together on Father's Day, 2008.

Front row, left to right: Ray Weiss, David Weiss, Faye Weiss, Hanah Weiss. Second row, left to right: Pat Weiss, Marlene Weiss, Kim Smith (my sister), Katie Weiss and Dan Weiss.
Picture taken on June 15, 2008, in San Diego.