Jack Stuart Lay

Jack Lay was born in the Virginia mountains, and immediately engaged in a full life of small adventures. As a child, he was better at hustling pool than attending classes, but he devotedly loved his mother and aunts.
He left home with a bag full of his brother's clothes and became a traveling magazine salesman. He drank coffee in hundreds of diners, avoided speeding tickets in dozens of states, and briefly had custody of a Capuchin monkey. While on the road he met Frances, the love of his life. They lost touch while he served in the army, but upon discharge he tore a path across the country to find her again. Their only daughter, Katherine, was born on the road and used motel dresser drawers for her crib.
When Jack retired from selling magazines, he settled in Chester and went into construction. He built houses, including the home where his daughter and granddaughters formed their fondest childhood memories.
From there, he moved into installing playground equipment, his favorite of all the jobs he held across an eclectic career. The most beloved installation was a swing set for his granddaughters. He rode home from that installation while his oldest granddaughter, Jessica, napped with her head on his belly.
He loved television, but never could work a VCR. He did all his math in his head, but never learned to type well. His temper was quick, but his heart was open. You'd be hard pressed to find someone as charming and gregarious. He taught his youngest granddaughter, Jacqueline, how to sweep. Repeatedly. He hated cartoons, but he'd watch anything with his two great-grandchildren who adore being snuggle buddies with their Pappa.
He died too soon, surrounded by people who love him and will miss him terribly.