It was a quiet spring day in 1960 in Great Falls, Mont. There were about 10 of us sitting in the living room, and it was a sad day for us. The kindest, sweetest grandfather—we called him Bumpa—had passed away, and we had just come from his funeral. At 16 years of age, I was the oldest of the five children in our family.
As we sat there remembering Bumpa, a quick fluttery movement went past the large picture window. We all jumped up to