When I was three years old, my grandpa died. I don’t remember him, except for what Mom has told me about him. She says her dad was a boilermaker, had a wooden leg, and regardless of that, he danced and he played the harmonica. I know a lot about my grandma though.
Ethel and Walter on their wedding day. She was 16 years old.
When I was almost five years old my grandma came to live with us. She was supposed to take care of my brother and me, and she did, but she also did EVERYTHING else in our home. She was the best cook ever and she let me “help” her in the kitchen.
Even though Grams only got through the 8th grade in school, I learned a lot from her. She read to me before I could read myself, and then she listened to me when I was learning to read. Dick and Jane was my first reader. If you’ve ever sat with a beginning reader, you know it can be a bit painful. She had the patience of a saint.
Using flash cards, Grandma helped me learn my math facts and every week we worked on my spelling words. Her diligence meant that I got 100% every time. Grandma never tired of being my study buddy. She also taught me the finer points of cursive writing.
They don’t teach cursive anymore, do they?
Me, Grandma Ethel, and my brother Ronnie
For special times, she and I took the bus, a block from our house, to downtown San Diego. Sometimes we’d go to movies, or go shopping at Walker Scott. (Gone now, but not forgotten.) But we always went out to lunch at the US Grant Hotel where they served the best banana splits, as my memory serves.
I either ordered a grilled cheese with hot cocoa, or fried shrimp and hot cocoa. But it is the dessert I remember so well. I can still see the three scoops of vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry ice cream scooped alongside bananas in the banana-shaped bowl, heaped with three sauces (hot fudge, marshmallow, and butterscotch) and topped with maraschino cherries, nuts and whipped cream. Oh my!
This is the coffee shop where Grandma and I always had lunch.
https://www.reddit.com/r/TheWayWeWere/comments/4hhdpb/coffee_shop_at_the_us_grant_hotel_1950s/
A short and sweet article (with photos) about the US Grant Hotel can be found here:
http://www.historichotelsthenandnow.com/usgrantsandiego.html
Grandma had the type of diabetes that is kept under control with diet, so she wasn’t supposed to eat banana splits. I was sworn to secrecy; not supposed to tell my mom (her daughter), but I always did. Mom never scolded either of us, but she would appeal to me to keep Grandma on the straight and narrow next time. Impossible. I loved having those banana splits.
This is the Grant Grill. It was famous for good food back then.
My grams was a Democrat because the Democrats brought in the unions, which made work life and times for people like my grandpa a whole lot better. Say what you will about unions now, back then they were saviors for the working class. I was encouraged by my grandma to vote as soon as I was legally able. She was a strong and capable woman, even though she only had an 8th grade education.
My Grandparents in the 1940s.
It is with fondness I recall when Grams held and kissed my first born son a few months before she died. She taught me so much and I remember her with big love in my heart.
I made bread today. “Thanks, Grams, for teaching me how to knead the dough and bake bread, and for all the other things you taught me.”
Your face may give away your age, but youth can remain a state of mind. At least that’s what I tell myself. I’m telling myself this as I inspect the face I see in the mirror. It’s the face of my mother! I swear every time I look in the mirror, my mom is there. Where did I go? Where did all the time go?
