Memories of Granddad
[Ed. to correct the story--if you read this the first day, it wasn't Walter Reed, he wasn't on his way home from Europe, but almost on his way to go there. My father set it straight.]
My sister Carolyn sent out a request on Wednesday for stories from all of us about the family cars and trips, and memories of them, from our childhood--we were soon burning up the ether with emails, chiming in about this time and that time, correcting each other and then determining that someone was right after all, or that no one was sure, matching up the timelines and learning what different perspectives we had at the same events because of our differing ages. Carolyn was preparing some project for her kids, and we had a ball getting into this and going beyond. It seems to have run its course for the moment, three days of email chains covered a lot of ground.
One of the things that came up was memories of our paternal grandfather, and what times we saw him. He died just after my youngest sister Anne was born, and our youngest brother never knew him. My mother's parents were the grandparents we grew up with, they were in Utah part of the time and in Washington, D.C. (where we lived) more of the time. Dad's parents lived in California, in the Oakland area. My Bennett grandparents decided that Carolyn and I were old enough to take with them to Utah, and that it would make our mother's life easier for a little while, with a new baby, to have fewer kids to worry about. We were generally farmed out with friends and relatives for a week or so whenever there was a new baby--this, though, was an airplane trip!
My Jeppson grandparents were visiting Utah and stayed a little longer when they knew Carolyn and I were coming. I remember going to see them, I don't know if it was at a hotel (I think so) or someone's house. I don't remember anyone else there. They returned to California and Granddad died. Our grandmother Bennett sat us down and explained that he had been sick for a long time, that he had been very happy that he had a chance to see us, and that he was with Heavenly Father now. (I was afraid that it was my fault, that he needed to go home and get better, and he stayed to see us instead.)
I was a few weeks short of seven, and Carolyn was 4 1/2. I understood as I was older that Granddad had been one of the casualties of the Spanish Influenza, spread as soldiers were coming home from World War I. Grandmother said to me later that it was so bad, she was in Logan, that you would wake up every morning and wonder who you knew that had died since yesterday. Granddad was not yet finished with basic training when he was struck down, and the famous story in our family was that he was passed over for dead during morning rounds at the military hospital but was actually still alive. He lived another 40 years, but he had damage to his heart valves and there was no way then to do anything about it. He had indeed been sick for a long time.
My father showed up, there was a graveside service for the family, my father disappeared again; there was a lot I didn't totally understand because of my age. We had great times in Utah with our cousins, and over the years our Bennett grandparents brought their grandchildren, generally two at a time, east one year and west the next, so that we all knew each other even though we lived far away from each other. That's one of the blessings of our lives, that we had the chance of knowing our many Bennett cousins.
The clearest memory of my grandfather Jeppson is actually not that brief visit in a strange place, on that Salt Lake trip. I have been thinking. My best memory is when they came to visit us. I don't know exactly when that was. From the things I do remember, my best guess is that I was five.
My paternal grandparents had lived in Carson City, Nevada; that was where my father grew up, and Reno. They moved to California to get out of the altitude, to make it easier on Granddad's heart, when he retired. There was a mint in Carson City, now long since closed, and Granddad came with coins for us from that mint--they used to make a mark on the larger coins to show where they were made, and he showed us where to look.
Silver dollars were still in circulation, though they were less common. When's the last time you saw a Kennedy half-dollar? He came and gave us each a whole silver dollar! I was old enough to understand that you used money to buy things, and this was exciting money. I ended up using mine to buy my brother Morgan some little thing for his birthday; I was torn, because I wanted to hang onto it, but I wanted to give my little brother a birthday present and I had never had my own money to do that before--I was too little for an allowance. Generosity won, I guess (yes, I know you love me too, Morgan!) and that silver dollar was used and gone. I think he sent each of us a silver dollar for our birthdays, every year, with a card. There just weren't many years.
What matters, really, is that I remember my Granddad not just as the source of that financial excitement. I remember the sense that he gave me his full attention. I remember that he was having fun being with us, and it wasn't something that could happen every day, because he lived so far away. I remember that his face was kind and warm, his manner was gentle, and he felt welcoming and approachable. We were glad he was there.
I think he would find that a pretty good legacy, and I look forward to seeing him again someday.
My sister Carolyn sent out a request on Wednesday for stories from all of us about the family cars and trips, and memories of them, from our childhood--we were soon burning up the ether with emails, chiming in about this time and that time, correcting each other and then determining that someone was right after all, or that no one was sure, matching up the timelines and learning what different perspectives we had at the same events because of our differing ages. Carolyn was preparing some project for her kids, and we had a ball getting into this and going beyond. It seems to have run its course for the moment, three days of email chains covered a lot of ground.
One of the things that came up was memories of our paternal grandfather, and what times we saw him. He died just after my youngest sister Anne was born, and our youngest brother never knew him. My mother's parents were the grandparents we grew up with, they were in Utah part of the time and in Washington, D.C. (where we lived) more of the time. Dad's parents lived in California, in the Oakland area. My Bennett grandparents decided that Carolyn and I were old enough to take with them to Utah, and that it would make our mother's life easier for a little while, with a new baby, to have fewer kids to worry about. We were generally farmed out with friends and relatives for a week or so whenever there was a new baby--this, though, was an airplane trip!
My Jeppson grandparents were visiting Utah and stayed a little longer when they knew Carolyn and I were coming. I remember going to see them, I don't know if it was at a hotel (I think so) or someone's house. I don't remember anyone else there. They returned to California and Granddad died. Our grandmother Bennett sat us down and explained that he had been sick for a long time, that he had been very happy that he had a chance to see us, and that he was with Heavenly Father now. (I was afraid that it was my fault, that he needed to go home and get better, and he stayed to see us instead.)
I was a few weeks short of seven, and Carolyn was 4 1/2. I understood as I was older that Granddad had been one of the casualties of the Spanish Influenza, spread as soldiers were coming home from World War I. Grandmother said to me later that it was so bad, she was in Logan, that you would wake up every morning and wonder who you knew that had died since yesterday. Granddad was not yet finished with basic training when he was struck down, and the famous story in our family was that he was passed over for dead during morning rounds at the military hospital but was actually still alive. He lived another 40 years, but he had damage to his heart valves and there was no way then to do anything about it. He had indeed been sick for a long time.
My father showed up, there was a graveside service for the family, my father disappeared again; there was a lot I didn't totally understand because of my age. We had great times in Utah with our cousins, and over the years our Bennett grandparents brought their grandchildren, generally two at a time, east one year and west the next, so that we all knew each other even though we lived far away from each other. That's one of the blessings of our lives, that we had the chance of knowing our many Bennett cousins.
The clearest memory of my grandfather Jeppson is actually not that brief visit in a strange place, on that Salt Lake trip. I have been thinking. My best memory is when they came to visit us. I don't know exactly when that was. From the things I do remember, my best guess is that I was five.
My paternal grandparents had lived in Carson City, Nevada; that was where my father grew up, and Reno. They moved to California to get out of the altitude, to make it easier on Granddad's heart, when he retired. There was a mint in Carson City, now long since closed, and Granddad came with coins for us from that mint--they used to make a mark on the larger coins to show where they were made, and he showed us where to look.
Silver dollars were still in circulation, though they were less common. When's the last time you saw a Kennedy half-dollar? He came and gave us each a whole silver dollar! I was old enough to understand that you used money to buy things, and this was exciting money. I ended up using mine to buy my brother Morgan some little thing for his birthday; I was torn, because I wanted to hang onto it, but I wanted to give my little brother a birthday present and I had never had my own money to do that before--I was too little for an allowance. Generosity won, I guess (yes, I know you love me too, Morgan!) and that silver dollar was used and gone. I think he sent each of us a silver dollar for our birthdays, every year, with a card. There just weren't many years.
What matters, really, is that I remember my Granddad not just as the source of that financial excitement. I remember the sense that he gave me his full attention. I remember that he was having fun being with us, and it wasn't something that could happen every day, because he lived so far away. I remember that his face was kind and warm, his manner was gentle, and he felt welcoming and approachable. We were glad he was there.
I think he would find that a pretty good legacy, and I look forward to seeing him again someday.
Oh, so good to have fond memories!
ReplyDeleteI didn't know about the flu. I knew about the heart valves; Mom has told me that that was due to rheumatic fever.
ReplyDeleteThe rheumatic fever was a complication of the influenza. Without that, he would have been fine. All of his siblings lived into their 80's, it would have been so nice to have had him with us that long.
ReplyDelete