| My Grandpa Hill -- Robert Dean Hill -- was my father's biological father. My dad was legally adopted around the age of 9, but re-established contact with his biological father when he turned 18, long before I was born, so I knew my Grandpa Hill my whole life.
I adored my Grandpa Hill, and he adored me. I was his first grandchild, and he never let me forget how special I was to him. He died last year, in early 2001, during a period of time when I was too ill to attend his funeral. My Grandpa Hill would have been about 77 right now. He was married lots of times ... I'm not sure how many. At least twice to the same woman. His first wife was my dad's mother ... they had my dad when they were very young. My dad's conception is almost certainly the reason they got married. When his wife, my dad's mom, just sort of took off, Grandpa Hill apparently had some difficulty raising my very challenging father by himself, and so dad got adopted by some family friends. Having been married lots of times, Grandpa Hill had a fair number of children. The ones I'm aware of are my dad, by his first wife; two daughters named Kim and Bobbie, who live in Iowa, by one of his later wives; a son named Roger, who I think is a full-sibling to Kim and Bobbie; and a daughter named Gay who has no contact with the rest of the family, I believe because she was disowned when she married a Korean man 30 years ago or so. Grandpa Hill liked to smoke and drink and play cards and talk. He had a great, chuckling laugh which would cause him to lean forward slightly in mirth. He usually referred to me as his "baby girl." He worked a lot of different jobs over the years: driving a taxi cab, managing a motel, working as a security guard ... all pretty blue collar. I think he was married to Margie before I was even born, so she was my step-grandma as long as I can remember. She is a nurse, so she took care of him in his final 8 or 9 years of disability from a series of strokes and heart attacks. Grandpa Hill gave me a locket for my 6th birthday, a gold locket with a four-leaf clover on the front. I still have it. It makes me cry. I really miss him. He was one of the few people who ever showed me absolutely unconditional love. His eyes just lit up when I came into a room. He thought I hung the moon. I miss him. I miss him so much. | 
Christmas Eve, 1983: Grandpa Hill with his wife, Margie In the lobby of a motel he managed 
Around 1989: Grandpa Hill and me in his living room in Lodi (I was visiting from college) |