I CAUGHT GRANDPA PLAYING CHESS IN THE PARK—AND IT BROKE ME IN THE BEST WAY
As I walked across the park to get coffee, I found my grandfather seated on a bench, staring at a miniature wooden chessboard. First he didn’t see me. Too concentrated. Squinting, he tapped a piece like he was negotiating global peace, not a rook-and-pawn exchange. Four guys in ’90s-era jackets and hats surrounded him. Living—not…