Chapter 12 of Family Memories - grandparents

Tell me about your grandparents or a fond memory.

Marcella: My grandmother, Matilda Holst, owned a ranch near Star Lake around Kent, WA. My dad’s mother, May Bell, was real nice but kind of on the sophisticated side so my two grandmothers were completely different in nature.

Arlie: During WWII, Grandpa Blankenship came to get me on Hastings Avenue to go to market and sell eggs. We rode in a white buckboard pulled by a gray horse. I really enjoyed it. I remember another time watching him blow out stumps on our farm. He loved dynamite. One day when my mother had a ladies’ aid meeting going on and he was blowing out stumps, ladies in hats and blue dresses with white polka dots would leap into the air every time another stump met its demise.

Denny:  My grandmother U’Renn (mom’s mom) was dying of cancer when I was very young. My  grandparents lived in a modest second floor apartment and I recall her being sick in bed. I remember the train ride being very rickety and harsh and I remember holding my mother’s hand and walking down the streets in Eugene and seeing and hearing the logging trucks lumber down the street. After my grandmother died, my grandfather paid a rare visit with a new wife. He had driven up from Pasadena, CA in a little English car. It was very small, kind of a dull medium green color and I think the front doors opened up backwards. Mostly, though, I just remember my grandfather’s letters. He didn’t talk much about himself, mostly he told me to pay attention to God. The letters had lots of scripture. At age 25, I was able to visit him when he lived in Tucson, AZ with his third and final wife. He seemed to be in good spirits and by then was in his 80’s. The last time I visited him, we had a quiet time in Seaside, Oregon where he lived in a basement apartment with my aunt and uncle. I felt sad for him. Apparently, his last wife’s daughter did not care too much for him and when her mother got the flu, she came to pick her up and later refused to allow him to talk to her on the phone. She didn’t let her mother have the letters he had written and eventually had him put out of their home in Tucson. That was why he ended up in Seaside. I always thought he died a very lonely man. I think he was in his 90’s although he was very lucid, alert, and didn’t show his age. My other grandfather was always dressed in coveralls, a funny hat and boots, like a farmer. I remember visits down to his place to get eggs. Seemed to be a weekly thing. He would occasionally reach up into a cupboard and get out a Snickers or Milky Way candy bar for us kids. He didn’t talk much but then neither did my dad. At grandfather’s funeral in 1960, I was taken aback to see my father cry. I had never seen that before. I don’t remember what the weather was like that day but seems like it was a very cold and inhospitable day.

Dale: Grandpa Blankenship nearly always had a Mounds Bar to give to me whenever we went down to the farm to get some eggs or a freshly killed chicken.

Janie: Grandpa was an easy touch. I could get a dime for being good. He always had lots of dimes.

Sue S: My fondest memory of my Grandfather Blankenship was when he showed me his little chicks in the barn on 19^th Street. He probably had 100 or more following him around as he fed them. My other grandfather lived in California as I grew up and he would send me wonderful letters when I was in college. I was very homesick and craved mail from loved ones.

Jimmy: Les and I were in our treehouse behind the barn. We bombed the barn roof with rocks and hid in the treehouse until grandpa came down and threatened to burn us out. We were brats to say the least!

Bill: I have fond memories of my grandparents, Lyall and Elva Arey. They were wonderful, especially since I lived 3000 miles from them and they did a great job of always making us feel special. In the summer of 1971, I was 10 years old and got to spend 3 weeks with them. Every day grandpa, my cousin, my brother and myself would go fishing early and then come in to watch the commercial fisherman come in with their catch. It was such a great time, and then we would come home to grandma’s wonderful cooking –not to mention phenomenal peanut butter cookies.

Mary: Walking in the Rhody Run with Grandpa Blankenship. His comment to me was: You’re slowing me down!

Joyce: My grandfather, John Nisbet of Chimacum, died when I was three so I don’t remember him but I know he raised chickens. My two grandmothers died when my mother and father were teenagers. Grandpa Blankenship (Lew Gene) was a bigger part of my childhood as we lived with him from 1952 until he died in 1960.  He worked in the wood mill of the CZ paper mill in the 20s’ when it first opened. Later he was a garbage man and then raised chickens and sold eggs and produce from his large gardens. He wore baggy pants with suspenders, boots, flannel shirts, an old farm hat and his work coat. He was born Dec. 9, 1877 in Ramsey, IL. His father was Lewis and his mother was Jane Downs (from Delaware). He had four sisters and five brothers and several half-siblings. I’ve done a lot of genealogy research on the family.  Foods I remember him buying on a regular basis included dates, strawberry ice cream, instant coffee, canned milk, raisin bread, and fig bars. He had a large old rocking chair that sat in the kitchen and later in the barn when he made himself a refuge out there. He spent hours working in his garden and often found Indian arrowheads. He was always pushing a wheelbarrow and walked with a walking stick. He got angry at Christmas when we would buy him a gift. Didn’t want us wasting our money on him.

Marlee: My mom’s dad had a wonderful laugh—contagious! When we lived in Tacoma, it was a thrill to come home from school and see granddad’s big orange moving truck parked in front of the house. We didn’t see him often because he was on the road a lot moving furniture across the country. My mom’s mom was a sweet lady—she used to dip her head resting her chin on her shoulder when she laughed. It was amazing to me when I noticed mom laughed the same way. My dad’s mom lived with his brother. They lived on a farm and drank milk straight from the cow! For a city girl, that seemed disgusting to me. I remember grandma sewing and having stacks of material.

Cindy: My granddad, Red Sullivan, had a laugh that was infectious. Sometimes we didn’t even know what he was laughing about but we just laughed right along with him. I loved it when he called me angel. He called my mother and my sisters angels too, but when he called me angel, I felt like it was his special name for me. When I was small he used to tell me that I was getting so pretty, he was going to have to bring a baseball bat the next time he came to visit so he could knock the boys off the front porch. My grandma, Dolly Sullivan, was a beautiful woman. Always arrived at our house dressed like she was straight out of Vogue. She was an incredible woman. I always admired her strength and beauty. She took care of herself and my granddad. They were meant for each other. My grandma, Velna Walker, had the warmest smile you’d ever see. I can still remember her smiling face. She used to write letters to me. I loved writing her back. She really loved us kids and I think she always would have liked to spend more time with us. She loved to sew, knit and paint. I remember she gave Marlee and I blue knit sweaters for Christmas one year. I got to wear Marlee’s when she grew out of hers so my gift lasted a long time. I wish I would have asked her about Darrel. I never did. She talked about him and I regret that I was too young to listen. My grandma, Pearl Davis, was a real jewel. She smelled of Avon honeysuckle. She was shy and she had a funny little mannerism—she would tuck her chin down and smile up at you like she was a little girl. My mom does it too. She was a tiny little thing. And sharp as a whip . She said what was on her mind. I really loved her.