My earliest recollection of my mother's father, Herman Albert was one of awe. He was a very strict man but he had a sense of humor unequaled to anyone I have ever known.  Pop, as we called him, loved to go for Sunday drives in the 50s and 60s. He would never ask my mother, June or grandmother, Nan to go with him but he always asked my brother and I.

His favorite pass time was cruising the streets that churches were on, usually between the hours of 9:30 - 11:00 a.m. Pop would spot an old lady walking down the sidewalk by herself 300 yards away. If she had a cane or walker so much the better.  He would coach us not to laugh or smile and just keep our mouths shut. We knew what was coming and would often start into convulsions without making a sound. We tried to keep from laughing so hard that it actually hurt. 

By now Pop would slow down to 5 mph or less.  He would always come up from behind the lady, crossing all the way over to the other side of the street if necessary. He would slow to 1 or 2 mph for the final approach. Right when he would creep up adjacent to the lady, her head would start to turn and he'd let 'er have it. He would lay on the horn for a good second and then scream at the top of his lungs, "Hello Dare!" He would then speed away with my brother and I laying on the floor in tears.