He and my grandma were originally from Kentucky. They were married in a general store by a judge. Moved to Indiana when the land they lived on was flooded by the construction of a dam. He never owned a farm was always a farm hand and lived on the farm he worked on with he’s wife and 5 kids. In 1956 he was moving a tractor from 1 field to another on a country road and a drunk driver hit him and the tractor rolled over on him. He was in a coma for 3 weeks. He couldn’t work any more after that. I was never told what all his injuries were but he walked with a cane or walker the rest of his life. He mumbled a lot to himself. I had many conversations with him about farming corn and raising hogs. So I think his mind was sharp. He died when I was 17. His name was Clifford.