If you want to blame one person, and that seems to be the way of the world these days, my grandmother on my mother’s side made me what I am today. Nan only got through eighth grade. Pop left school after sixth grade. They married at sixteen. Both were bright, always fair, always fun to be around. But I never saw either one of them crack open a book. Still, they pushed me to be my best and not squander my gifts, if I had any gifts to squander.
My grandparents were definitely hard workers. Over the years, Nan and Pop ran two candy stores and two ice cream stores, and they owned a small restaurant and bar called Fieldstone Lodge. They built the lodge themselves, literally built it. Then they built a house on the hill behind the restaurant. Who do you know today who can build their own house?
Pop used to tell me that my right to extend my arm ended at the next person’s nose. He and Nan weren’t biased against anybody.
When I was in grade school, they rented out a small cottage they’d built behind the main house to two women from nearby Stewart Air Force Base. One morning, Nan ushered my sister Mary Ellen and me into her cozy breakfast nook. She made cocoa, sliced some warm babka, then told us that we might hear some stories about the air force women, Betty and Lou, but we should ignore all the small-minded talk. Betty and Lou were good people. They loved each other. And they were our dear friends. That attitude toward gay women wasn’t exactly the norm back in the 1950s. But it was the norm for Nan and so it became the norm for our family. I’m not trying to be self-righteous here, just telling the story like it happened.
Pop was a totally lovable guy too. When he ran the Fieldstone Lodge, a DUI wasn’t as big a deal as it is now. Actually, I think it was called a DWI back then. If a customer of his tried to drive home under the influence, Pop would ask for his keys and drive him home himself. He’d say, “You know where your car is, my friend. It’s safe and sound right here in the lot of the Fieldstone Lodge, and it’ll be here safe and sound in the morning.”
Nan and Pop. I loved them both. Still do.