My grandfather, Fred Schroeder, was known to say, "There is always room for pie," and he lived by his word. One evening my grandmother served pie for dessert and grandpa cleaned his plate. Shortly thereafter, making a call at a neighbor's, pie was offered. "There is always room for pie!" exclaimed my grandpa and ate a second piece with relish. He was thin always and tall, too, so I thought. Come to find out, years and years later, he was tall only as I saw him, which is the kind of tall that counts.