Dennis Leo Greenwood

It began where the tall corn whispers low,
In Indiana's dirt, where the first seeds grow.
A boy with a spirit too wide for the plains,
With the rhythm of travel deep in his veins.

Through the blue-misted hills of Tennessee air,
To Arkansas timber and the life lived there.
Then the map stretched wide, past the edge of blue,
To Thailand's gold temples and a world that was new.

From the red clay of Georgia, where the peaches hang heavy,
To the snows of Illinois, by the lake and the levee.
Far over the ocean, where the morning is calm,
South Korea offered its own steady balm.

He walked through the pines of North Carolina shade,
Counting the memories and the friends that he made.
A life stitched together like a traveler's quilt,
On a foundation of courage and character built.

But every long river must find its way home,
To a place where the wind and the buffalo roam.
In Oklahoma's wide sunset,
He finally found rest.

Dear Pops,

This page is only the beginning. It cannot hold everything you were, everything you gave, or everything your family still feels. But it can become a place where your story lives forever.

You were my father... No. You are my father.. You are more than a name, more than dates, more than records. You are Pops.

This website is for you. A living tribute. A place where your children, family, friends, and future generations can come to remember where they came from.

Until we meet again.