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09-25-2017 04:20 PM
I wanted to start a discussion about my grandparents. I hope everyone will share their story even if it's not about grandparents. Maybe it's an aunt or uncle, but please share!
I will I'll start by saying that my grandma was Cherokee Indian, which I am so proud of that. She was 13 when she married my grandfather, but that was not uncommon in the 1920's. She raised 8 children which included my mom, who had a twin sister. My uncle who I never met was killed prior to my birth. He was hitchhiking and was hit by a car. My mom said that my "mammy" went into a deep depression when her brother was killed.
My mammy was only 5'1 and my pappy was 6'6". My grandfather was a Secret Service agent for 2 presidents. I remember him telling a few stories about being in the WH, but I was only 12 when he passed away. He was a proud man who retired and moved back to the country. I loved my mammy and pappy so much and he was truly the matriarch of our family. When he died, my mammy stepped in to fill those shoes. She was a strong willed woman who spoke her mind, and was afraid of nothing or nobody. She lived to be 93 and the song played at her funeral was "Will the Circle Be Unbroken " and it was the perfect song. I miss her so!
Please share your story. One thing I've learned in the years of working with the elderly is that everyone has a unique story, and I love to hear them! ❤️
09-25-2017 04:37 PM
What a wonderful remembrance of your grandparents!
I was lucky to know and love 3 grandparents and now I am one!
I am a happy but tired lol grandma!
09-25-2017 04:43 PM
My mother's parents died young but I distinctly remember my father's parents. I was especially close to my grandmother. Both my grandparents were born in Eastern Europe. in what was then Russia. My grandmother was very bright but in those days, girls could only go to school until the age of 13. My great-grandparents decided to send her with her older brother to New Jersey, to go to school. It was where their oldest sister lived...and lied about her living conditions, never realizing anyone would discover that she was living at a pig farm.
My grandmother and her brother sailed on the George Washington ship out of Bremen Germany. On the boat, my great uncle allegedly lost his return-trip money by gambling on the ship, so he and my grandmother were at the mercy of their older sister, who was unable to help them. My great-uncle became a farmer in Connecticut but my grandmother made her way to New York City, worked in the garment district by day and went to school at night. Soon after she arrived in NYC, she recognized a girl who came from her old village. My grandmother was invited to the girl's house for dinner, where she met the girl's older brother, who became my grandfather.
My grandparents raised three sons, all of whom earned college degrees and had six grandchildren, all of whom earned graduate degrees...a great American success story.
09-25-2017 05:13 PM
My grandfather was a crusty, rough railroad engineer who ran the train between Grand Junction, CO., and Green River, Utah. He was a deer hunter and fisherman as were all his friends. I never liked him and since we lived on the East Coast we rarely saw him which was fine with me. He didn't have the most remote idea of how to relate to children.
When I was 5 or 6 years old he and grandma came to stay with my sister and me so our parents could have a little vacation. I remember one evening I was called in for dinner and didn't want to go so I took off running down the hill we lived on with grandpa in hot pursuit. I ran a long way before he caught me (brat). The consequences must not have been too severe because I don't remember them. I thought it was great sport.
09-25-2017 05:32 PM
What an interesting story. I love this topic! As you said, every family has a story to tell.....
I have so many good memories of my grandparents. They lived in Donora, Pennsylvania. They actually lived across the street from each other. My dad's mom was a widow.... And my mom's mother and dad were right across the street. So when we were kids it was great when we went to visit.....we easily made our rounds and got to see everyone.
My grandfather worked in the steel mill and my grandmother was a teacher. My other grandmother was older and happy to stay at home. We spent many Sunday's driving to fruit stands, miniature golfing, and fishing. We had wonderful Sunday homemade meals and just plain old fashioned fun. They nicknamed this area Cement City, because all the homes were actually built from cement to originally house the families who worked in the steel mill. The town made history in 1948 when an air inversion smog covered the town and many people were affected.......There was a documentary of this event created for tv.....This initiated the clean air act that we have today.
Well....These unique preserved homes in Donora still stand today...It is considered an Historic District now and guided tours are held each year to experience this walk back in time. I was last there in 1961 after all my grandparents had passed away within the same year. I was 13 years old. But 2 years ago, 2015, my brother and I went on the tour. It was the most incredible thing I have ever done. We actually got to walk through the neighborhood and see our grandparent's home again..... Walk on the sidewalks where we once played and rode bikes...and go inside some homes that were open to the tour. They looked exactly as we remembered.... Only 54 years later. This was a experience I will never forget.
09-25-2017 05:55 PM
No happy memories with grandparents for me. I barely remember my paternal grandparents. I know that I went on outings with them and went to their house, but it must not have been very often or memorable. I do have a vague memory of my grandmother singing me to sleep wth Brahm's lullaby. My cousins were very fond of her. I wish I had been able to know her as a young adult. My grandfather was a cutthroat businessman who dealt with unions - not Mr Cuddly.
On my mother's side, I always wished I'd known my grandfather - a handsome blonde, blue-eyed silent movie cameraman who died at age 26 of TB. My maternal grandmother, in all my recollections of her, was never happy or loving in any way, but just a b***h to me, my mother, and stepfather. She lived to hurt people.
The only "typical grandma" I experienced was my stepfather's mother - a truly sweet, kind, loving and home-y soul. But she passed away after I'd only known her about 3-4 years.
I only knew my paternal aunt and uncle as a young child; my uncle was, I know, a nice and kind man.
My aunt by marriage was a cross between Hyacinth Bucket of Keeping Up Appearances and Gladys Kravitz.
09-25-2017 07:23 PM - edited 09-25-2017 07:27 PM
My father's parents struggled in the Depression; she worked in a factory and he was in the WPA building roads. When I knew them, they dressed stylishly, drove a Studebaker, and were very kind and indulgent to their grandchildren (they had 12 of them!). But they were steely inside--too many years of suffering.
My mother's mother was an amputee (bone TB), and she died young, but I just barely remember sitting on her lap when I was around 3 and realizing her voice was exactly the same as my mother's voice.
My mother's father was politically active in Boston, MA (not an office holder, a community organizer). Always very kind to all us grandkids (he had 20!) but again--he had immigrated from rural Ireland at age 12 to America (walking with his family from Philadelphia to Boston when the ship docked in Philadelphia due to weather conditions). He loved his family but he too was well guarded by toughness. The "good old days" were pretty rough in the early 20th century, with the Great War, the Great Depression, and then World War II.
09-25-2017 07:25 PM
Both sets of my grandparents lived in Pasadena, CA. My parents grew up there.
One was a crazy Irish family with lots of action and laughter (my father had six sisters). One of my father's uncles was a priest in Skid Row in LA. He would always bring two or three extra people for holiday dinners. Every year we would go to the Rose Parade and then back to their house for a picnic in the backyard.
My other grandparents also lived in Pasadena but were more formal. All meals were served in the dining room and manners were very important. Thanks to them I never wondered what fork to use at a fancy dinner. I learned many useful things from this grandmother - many I did not realize until I grew up.
All in all it was a good balance. I have nothing but fond memories of my grandparents.
09-25-2017 08:03 PM
Wish I could contribute but I never had any grandparents.
09-25-2017 09:22 PM
Mother's side: My grandfather owned a general store in a far North resort town by the bay. He was reputed to be great fun, with a droll sense of humor. Background: English, French Huguenot, Northern Irish. Loved and raised Dalmations. I have a picture of my grandmother, sweet-faced, in a silk Edwardian dress, with a tiny, tiny waist. She was ill for much of my mother's childhood and died young.
Dad's side: His father died when my Dad was only 5. He was a Welsh coal miner and stone mason who succumbed at 28 to a respiratory illness in a sanitarium in Saranac Lake, New York. My dad even at 5 remembered the man-to-man talk his dad had with him before he left, to die in the sanitarium. My father's mother was English, and as a young widow took many jobs to raise her family. She was the only grandparent alive for me to remember. She still had her English accent, and her children adored her, probably knowing the difficult times she overcame as a woman alone raising them...
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