Grandpa took us hiking and said he had a surprise for us all at the top where we were to make our campsite. It was a grueling hike, not for Grandpa though being a war veteran and all in Guadalcanal, but for us it was excruciating. I just remember looking at the back of Grandpas knees where the brown socks met below the knee and wishing that I was in his shoes, had his legs. Grandpa was sweating in his Scoutmaster uniform, but that was because it was humid that day.
Anyways, we make it to the top and a dark skinned man in full Indian regalia is standing there, buckskins and all, with his arms crossed looking very stern. We were all frightened except Grandpa. Grandpa couldn`t contain himself any longer and burst out with a hearty laugh and so did the "Indian".
Turns out, that "Indian" was no Choctaw. It was Harold, Grandpa`s barber, wearing shoe polish on his face and borrowing a costume from the Community Theater. Harold was fond of dressing up in unique costumes and all of the kids seemed to love him. So did Grandpa.
