My grandfather took the time to tell me about his childhood on one of my visits to Markham as a kid. I remember that I was sitting on the rust coloured carpet in the livingroom next to the coffee table and my Grandpa was seated on the sofa, moving his legs around in ways you wouldn't think were possible for someone his age. He was a spritely man. Spritely, yet set in his ways. He told me that his first job was herding cattle along the roadways and that he started working at the age of eight to help out his family. He said he only went to school in the winter, when the weather wouldn't allow him to work outside. I remember not knowing what to say to this. It didn't seem real to me at all. I was also watching TV at the time. My grandparents got a lot more channels than what we could pick up on our TV antennae outside of Plattsville.