What stories do you know about your grandfather? (Part 2)
Just One Question #5
To participate in Just 1 Question, and receive the issues one week early, sign up here.
Sam’s in Town
My little grandfather Sam was such a bad driver that a couple of jokesters in his village would exaggeratedly jump out of the way when they saw him coming up Main Street in his Model A.
Connie
The Percolator
My grandparents had a prehistoric coffee percolator for decades. The thing made legendary bad coffee. My grandfather worked a really early shift for much of his life. My grandmother would get up before him every morning and brew a pot of coffee before he went off to work. He drank this foul brew (made with love) for years.
When my grandmother died of cancer my parents were visiting for the funeral. My mom noticed that my grandfather had a brand new coffee pot.
“Daddy,” my mom stated “you’ve got a new coffee pot.”
“Well,” he said sheepishly, “I never did much like your mother’s coffee.”
He spent years drinking the stuff. I like to think it was because he knew the effort she was putting forth to care for him and he returned that care. There’s a lot of things I can say about my grandfather, he was certainly a flawed man, but that story will always be emblematic of his care for and kindness to his family.
Jude Wright
Looking for a better life
In 1905 at the age of 19, my grandfather and his 16-year-old sister walked 900 miles from their town in what is now Ukraine, to Rotterdam and took a ship to the United States. Ellis Island records show he had five dollars in his pocket and the address of a cousin in the lower east side of New York.
Over the next 25 years, he brought 30 members of his family, including my grandmother, to the United States by working 6 1/2 days a week; he went to synagogue on Saturday mornings and so he couldn’t work then.
During World War II the Nazis killed almost the entire Jewish population of the town where he had immigrated from, 25,000 men women and children were murdered over a two week period. His entire life he never travel more than 100 miles away from his home in New York City. He was the kindest and sweetest man I ever knew.
Rick Brown
One Misfire Away From Non-Existence
My grandfather was a medical missionary in China. What that meant was that he went over, did the doctoring first, and then let people approach him and his wife about their faith separately. However, he was over there for the Second Sino-Japanese War, in an area of the country that was taken over by the Japanese. In 1938, an inebriated (armed) Japanese soldier had entered the medical compound, also near a primary school, and was threatening people.
Marching my grandfather towards their hospital, he shot my grandfather in the right side of his back. He went to fire again; he cleared a jam, and then tried firing again. Yet once more, it jammed. He gave up and moved on. Had either of those second pistol shots not jammed, my mother would’ve never been born, nor would I have. He was an amazing man – both my grandparents were amazing. Look up “Myra Scovel” on the Internet Archive for any of her books. I got her publishers to release into the public domain.
Molly Harris
Hey Kid…Come Here
One 1930’s morning in downtown Aurora, IL, my then-teenaged paternal grandfather was cutting through an alleyway that ran along the backside of the stores on main street. A man standing on the “Kartheiser And Sons” loading dock called out “Hey, kid.. come here.” My grandfather Emery complied, expecting to possibly to be scolded for loitering. What my grandfather didn’t know was that the man on the loading dock was the owner of that hardware and general store and had just walked out back to clear his head (and probably smoke a cigarette) after learning that his only stock boy had just quit. Grandpa was hired on the spot.
There’s a level of serendipity just in how grandpa was hired, but the importance of that event to my family is that he went inside and began working alongside the owner’s daughter who sat behind the cash register. They dated, married, had my father and three other children, and eventually took over the store from my great-grandfather. I try and remember stories like this when it feels like we must stay on our perfectly planned path to get to the “right” place.Sure, good choices lead to better outcomes, but don’t kid yourself that you’re in control. It’s more important to be open to “Hey kid…come here” when you thought you were going THERE instead.
Jay Hofner
10/12/24
