Some of my fondest memories of my grandfather, J.P. Trodden were my childhood visits with him on St. Patrick’s Day. We would leave for his house the second my dad got home from work. Grandma Carrie would have corned beef and cabbage ready for us and of course J.P. would have whiskey at the ready to celebrate his Irish heritage.
He was always in a very festive mood on St Pat’s Day and the twinkle in his eyes was never more pronounced. He was absolutely gleeful to be with family, tell his favorite Irish jokes, recount stories from the old days and sip a little all the while.
I thought it was the best thing ever to squeeze myself into his recliner beside him and just soak up the stories.
I will be raising a glass of his namesake Bourbon on Friday in his honor and I know there will be hundreds of good folks doing the same. Here’s to you J.P.