My Mom recently mailed me a stack of letters, postcards, etc that my Grandpa had mailed to his kid sister from a June-August 1940 trip he had taken his two kids on - my Mom and my late uncle. (My Grandpa's lovely wife died after giving birth to my Mom, and he never remarried. Not sure he ever got over that loss.) A single parent.
He wrote about three letters or postcards per week to his dear Sis in Bridgeport, CT. It's a delight to read these travelogues. Seems like the fellow (who was a good pal to me when I was young), a great yachtsman (also a fine horseman, polo player, and shooter), spent much of his time on the bridge with the officers during the cruise part of their trip. He reported all the warships he admired en route - Sis' husband was a naval officer in the Pacific at the time. Probably spent the rest of the time in the bar playing poker, which he reported was pleasantly air-conditioned.
He also reported that my Mom, as usual, won the shipboard trap shooting contests (she has always been good with a horse and a shotgun, but now all she does is tennis and gardening). At the time, my Mom was in high school on the riding team and my Uncle at Dartmouth on the drinking team.
Their cruise took them from NYC to San Francisco via Baltimore, Havana, Cristobal, Balboa, Acapulco, Los Angeles on the Panama Pacific Line's City of San Francisco. From his letters, they also stopped in Colon and Panama City.
As I do, my Grandpa loved the shipboard life, especially the coasting up from Panama to California. Then they spent a few days at the Hotel Empire in SF, then variously trained and drove to the Yosemite Lodge, the Grand Canyon, spent a couple of weeks at the still-wonderful old Eaton's Ranch in WY, thence to the New Lawrence Hotel in Chicago and then train back to NYC.
Nice summer trip.
Christmas, mid-1950s, in Grandpa's parlor I think. My cuz added some color to the B&W. My Grandpa with pipe in hand on left next to Sis, and other relatives:
A bit more about this one of my two fine Grandpas on continuation page below. One day soon, we will do a post inviting readers' Grandpa reminiscences. Not today.
My Grandpa was a go-getter entrepreneur from Woodbridge, CT. He never bothered with college but, in those days, a high school degree meant something. For a guy who I thought disliked work and loved play, he ended up owning a bank in Fort Lauderdale, a metal specialty alloy manufacturing factory in CT, and the local Elco Yacht franchise. He hired good managers so he would have time for his activities. He had a string of polo ponies he kept in Florida for a while, a small farm in CT so he could grow his own steaks during the Depression and during the war - and for my Mom's horses. He always had wonderful sailboats and powerboats. He hosted a weekly poker game for his pals until he died. He bought a new Chrysler every year, or so it seemed. He liked to eat at diners, and I cannot see a Boston Cream Pie without remembering him. A Congregationalist Protestant, he left his house in CT in his will to the Roman Catholic church which had been built next door after he bought his house. They needed a parish house.
Back in April I did a little bit of reminiscing about one of my Grandpas. At that time, I promised an open session for Grandpa reminiscing. It is understood that Grandpas are or were not perfect, but each one is a story. A better story than those o
Tracked: Jun 09, 12:17