gabosaurus
07-13-2011, 05:17 PM
Most members of DP would have liked my paternal grandfather. He was a patriot who believed in a strong military and loved his country. According to my great aunt, my grandfather was 16 when Pearl Harbor was bombed. But he looked older and was able to pass himself off as 18 to join the military. He served in the Pacific Theater for three years.
When my grandfather enlisted, he was sent to a base in Texas. Where he met my grandmother, who was already serving as a nurse. Story has it that they met when my grandfather tried to flirt with her. Not a good idea since she outranked him at the time.
After the war, my grandfather wanted to return to his home in South Carolina. But my grandmother wouldn't marry him unless they lived in her hometown of Dallas, where she had obtained a job as a nurse. So that is where they settled down. They had two kids, my uncle and then my dad.
My dad was a very proper conservative Southerner. He disliked all minorities, along with Asians and Germans. He considered politicians to be wimpy cowards and always thought the U.S. should have a military government.
My grandfather always felt disgraced by his children, who not only refused to join the military, but turned into "god damn dope smokin' hippies." Both went to college to avoid the draft. When my dad was arrested at a Viet Nam war protest (where he met my mom), the police called my grandparents. My grandfather reportedly told them to let my dad "rot in hell," but my grandmother arranged to bail him out.
When my uncle married a Mexican immigrant and my dad married a German, my grandfather was greatly pained. He couldn't understand my uncle working as a caterer, and really unhappy when my dad and his new wife moved to California, which he considered "full of faggots and cowards."
My grandfather eventually tired of the whole thing moved back to South Carolina. My grandmother went along because that is what women did in that era.
I never met my grandfather until I somehow convinced him to come to my wedding. By then, my grandmother had become quite ill and died a couple of years later. The experience of meeting so many German and Mexican relatives (including my sister's husband) upset him greatly and I never heard from him again.
My grandfather underwent a change of heart over the last year of so, when he knew he was dying. One of his final wishes was that as many members of our family as could make it to attend his funeral, to give him a bit of closure.
My grandfather died last Friday at the age of 85 and was buried on Monday, with full military honors. None of us knew him very well, but we loved him just the same.
When my grandfather enlisted, he was sent to a base in Texas. Where he met my grandmother, who was already serving as a nurse. Story has it that they met when my grandfather tried to flirt with her. Not a good idea since she outranked him at the time.
After the war, my grandfather wanted to return to his home in South Carolina. But my grandmother wouldn't marry him unless they lived in her hometown of Dallas, where she had obtained a job as a nurse. So that is where they settled down. They had two kids, my uncle and then my dad.
My dad was a very proper conservative Southerner. He disliked all minorities, along with Asians and Germans. He considered politicians to be wimpy cowards and always thought the U.S. should have a military government.
My grandfather always felt disgraced by his children, who not only refused to join the military, but turned into "god damn dope smokin' hippies." Both went to college to avoid the draft. When my dad was arrested at a Viet Nam war protest (where he met my mom), the police called my grandparents. My grandfather reportedly told them to let my dad "rot in hell," but my grandmother arranged to bail him out.
When my uncle married a Mexican immigrant and my dad married a German, my grandfather was greatly pained. He couldn't understand my uncle working as a caterer, and really unhappy when my dad and his new wife moved to California, which he considered "full of faggots and cowards."
My grandfather eventually tired of the whole thing moved back to South Carolina. My grandmother went along because that is what women did in that era.
I never met my grandfather until I somehow convinced him to come to my wedding. By then, my grandmother had become quite ill and died a couple of years later. The experience of meeting so many German and Mexican relatives (including my sister's husband) upset him greatly and I never heard from him again.
My grandfather underwent a change of heart over the last year of so, when he knew he was dying. One of his final wishes was that as many members of our family as could make it to attend his funeral, to give him a bit of closure.
My grandfather died last Friday at the age of 85 and was buried on Monday, with full military honors. None of us knew him very well, but we loved him just the same.