My paternal grandfather, John P. Lang, in an atypical suit. We called him Bunco, as in bunk. The other cousins called him Poh-Poh. He was marvelous man, full of not bunk but quirks and wisdom.
My maternal grandfather, George L. MacLaine, whom I never knew. He died in 1929 in a tram accident in the Houston Heights (elevation 90′), leaving my grandmother, née Ann Terese Masterson, to raise their three children during the Depression.
He was the first Maclaine “ghost” I never knew. The second was his son George Maclaine, who died in 1944 during WW2, after whom I was named and about whom I wrote in Delayed Reaction (link in bio)
