Asthmagirl remembers

This is my Grampy.


This was taken in Florida during World War 2. Although almost too old to serve, Grampy enlisted and ended up being a classroom trainer for those flying B 52s (I think). He met my Grammy in Florida and wooed her with the help of pink sand beaches and beautiful sunsets. My dad's dad had died right before the war and my Dad and Aunt were staying in Oklahoma with my great Grammy. (Although my dad says he went out to Florida for one year and remembers eating pineapple sandwiches at school).

After the war, they all moved back to Oregon (where Grampy was from). They bought a little cabin near the beach and Grampy went to work spinning platters at the closest radio station which was in Tillamook (Land of Cheese, Trees and Ocean Breeze). The music was on 78 size records and was everything from Tommy Dorsey and Glen Miller to polkas... which the cows reportedly loved during milking. My dad always called it Swiss Family Fern Feeler. Grampy often drove their one old car through flooded creeks and winter storms to open the radio station and do news, weather and music for the local dairy men.

In the 1950's Grammy and Grampy moved to Portland and bought a tiny one bedroom cottage. Grampy and his brother invested in a wine and beer importing business and worked there for many years. With no fanfare, Grammy and Grampy used to make meals for the homeless and distribute them on the downtown streets during holidays. They moved back to the beach when Grampy retired and amused themselves with gardening (mole ranching as Grammy called it) and making apple juice popsicles for the grand babies.

My best memories of my Grampy were him taking us to the "sand hill" down at the beach and buying us ice cold bottles of Dad's root beer which he always had waiting at the bottom when we tumbled down. He always took the heat when he brought me back to the cabin with sand in my hair, the ultimate sin to my sand hating Grammy! He also did great whale impersonations in the ocean where he would roll over and spout water way up the air.

I still have his original leather bomber jacket.

I know Memorial Day was originally supposed to be for the fallen but I cant help remembering a great guy, one of many who served and did wonderful things with no fanfare....

Happy Memorial Day