indytechnerd
Master
On Saturday, about noon, my father called to tell me that my paternal grandfather had passed away. I'm not terribly broken up, in the last year he had really checked out mentally and was living in the VA home in Daytona, FL. This is not a woe is me thread, just something ya'll might think cool.
My grandfather was born in January, 1923. He served in the Army during WWII, missing the D-Day invasion by 1 day due to the rotation schedule of on/off units. After D-Day, while in Europe, he was wounded twice, receiving the purple heart. Before WWII ended, he was involved in the liberation of the concentration camps at Dachau. When I cleaned out his apartment when he moved to Florida to be near dad and move into the VA home, I found an interesting piece of memorabilia from his time in the service. It was a poem, written by one of the men who served under him, about a night when all the boys got rowdy in the barracks. The ruckus woke the First Sergeant, which pissed him off. In turn, it rolled down hill to SSgt. Smith. So, my granddad made all 20 something men do PT through the entire night. Along with the poem was a letter written to my grandmother asking her to verify the story because the guy was going to publish the poem or something. My dad has it now.
After returning from the war, he lived and worked in Parke County for many years before moving to Phoenix, then to Ft. Lauderdale. Unconfirmed, anecdotal stories told to me long after I became an adult said that his 2nd wife had been a madame in Terre Haute's infamous red light district, and that they'd headed to warmer climes when that era was coming to a close. Either way, he was in Florida well before I was born. During the mid 70's, he was the building superintendent of a large hi-rise apartment complex. It was at this time that an up and coming actor had the penthouse apartment in the building, one John Travolta. This was told to me by both he and my grandmother (wife #2) on separate occasions. She was 2nd generation Italian, and apparently Mr. Travolta thought she was a pretty neat lady.
They moved back to Parke County in 1980 to be closer to us grandkids. My grandfather would do anything for his wife, including helping her take care of her dogs. This may sound like a small thing, until you are told that she was a one-woman rescue shelter. When I was a kid, they had as many as 21, and routinely 15 or better. My grandfather made them all beds from Naugahyde and fake fleece using upholstery cushioning. He even added a room onto their house just for the dogs to sleep in.
In 1984, he ran for President on the Democratic ticket. I have letters from many sitting Governors at the time supporting him, including George Wallace of Alabama. He was featured in newspaper articles in Chicago, San Fransisco, and a couple other cities. He was interviewed on WTWO in Terre Haute and one of the Indy stations, but I can't remember which one. Early in the race, he was asked to come to UCLA for a debate and mock election. In that event, he matched up against Jesse Jackson and other hopefuls. At the end of the event, the students at UCLA held a mock primary, which my grandfather won. Unfortunately, the cost of a Presidential run is much higher than the finances and donations he had amassed, and he never made it to the actual primary. At dads, there is a 4" three-ring binder full to overflowing of news articles, letters, and other stuff from his campaign.
Later in life, my grandfather became a tinkerer and inventor. Nothing big, but he did design a bath fixture with an integrated drip tray that was used in RVs and travel trailers. It was just one more odd bullet point in the life of a guy who could tell stories all day and half the night without repeating a single one.
So, there you have it, INGOers, a story about a guy you most likely never met, unless you're from Parke County. Hope I didn't bore you.
My grandfather was born in January, 1923. He served in the Army during WWII, missing the D-Day invasion by 1 day due to the rotation schedule of on/off units. After D-Day, while in Europe, he was wounded twice, receiving the purple heart. Before WWII ended, he was involved in the liberation of the concentration camps at Dachau. When I cleaned out his apartment when he moved to Florida to be near dad and move into the VA home, I found an interesting piece of memorabilia from his time in the service. It was a poem, written by one of the men who served under him, about a night when all the boys got rowdy in the barracks. The ruckus woke the First Sergeant, which pissed him off. In turn, it rolled down hill to SSgt. Smith. So, my granddad made all 20 something men do PT through the entire night. Along with the poem was a letter written to my grandmother asking her to verify the story because the guy was going to publish the poem or something. My dad has it now.
After returning from the war, he lived and worked in Parke County for many years before moving to Phoenix, then to Ft. Lauderdale. Unconfirmed, anecdotal stories told to me long after I became an adult said that his 2nd wife had been a madame in Terre Haute's infamous red light district, and that they'd headed to warmer climes when that era was coming to a close. Either way, he was in Florida well before I was born. During the mid 70's, he was the building superintendent of a large hi-rise apartment complex. It was at this time that an up and coming actor had the penthouse apartment in the building, one John Travolta. This was told to me by both he and my grandmother (wife #2) on separate occasions. She was 2nd generation Italian, and apparently Mr. Travolta thought she was a pretty neat lady.
They moved back to Parke County in 1980 to be closer to us grandkids. My grandfather would do anything for his wife, including helping her take care of her dogs. This may sound like a small thing, until you are told that she was a one-woman rescue shelter. When I was a kid, they had as many as 21, and routinely 15 or better. My grandfather made them all beds from Naugahyde and fake fleece using upholstery cushioning. He even added a room onto their house just for the dogs to sleep in.
In 1984, he ran for President on the Democratic ticket. I have letters from many sitting Governors at the time supporting him, including George Wallace of Alabama. He was featured in newspaper articles in Chicago, San Fransisco, and a couple other cities. He was interviewed on WTWO in Terre Haute and one of the Indy stations, but I can't remember which one. Early in the race, he was asked to come to UCLA for a debate and mock election. In that event, he matched up against Jesse Jackson and other hopefuls. At the end of the event, the students at UCLA held a mock primary, which my grandfather won. Unfortunately, the cost of a Presidential run is much higher than the finances and donations he had amassed, and he never made it to the actual primary. At dads, there is a 4" three-ring binder full to overflowing of news articles, letters, and other stuff from his campaign.
Later in life, my grandfather became a tinkerer and inventor. Nothing big, but he did design a bath fixture with an integrated drip tray that was used in RVs and travel trailers. It was just one more odd bullet point in the life of a guy who could tell stories all day and half the night without repeating a single one.
So, there you have it, INGOers, a story about a guy you most likely never met, unless you're from Parke County. Hope I didn't bore you.
