I think back to some of the working men in my life. Even at an early age, I was intimidated by their workbenches. Ingenious little tools they'd cobbled togethe

I think back to some of the working men in my life. Even at an early age, I was intimidated by their workbenches. Ingenious little tools they'd cobbled together with scrap material. Probably some insanely specific purpose... but the time it saved was immeasurable. Or perhaps some little design to test a theory out, kept as a memento. Even if it was disorganized, everything had a place. If you asked for something, they knew where it was. The hours of creative thought and domain knowledge, that spark of creativity, all gone. Just bits of scrap now. It's tragic, but in a strangely bittersweet way. I think though... when you invest in people? That's something that will last much longer. Both Grant (and your father) invested in people. That's something that is much harder to forget.