Posted by
Curtal Friar on Saturday, March 08, 2008 10:06:59 AM
My grandpa Joe was a man of character and personality, and though he died 17 years ago, the memories of him have not lost their luster. Grandpa Joe was a 5'7" rough spoken, swarthy sicilian man with gradually receding salt and pepper hair who had enforced a harsh code of discipline on his children. They had a love/hate relationship with him till the day he died, but for the grandchildren, he was quite a different person.
My uncle, Joe Jr., had probably the roughest time. Being the only son of my grandpa, he received the most discipline, some of which (when my uncle was a teenager) resulted in fights between the two. If anyone has ever seen the movie "The Great Santini" you will have a good idea of the kind of relationship the two had. In spite of their differences, however, my uncle remembers his father with nothing but love and reverence now.
I had a somewhat different experience with him. Grandpa Joe was a man who loved to play cards, and we played with each other many times over the years. We mostly played Rummy 500 and a couple different versions of poker (Draw Poker and 7 Card Down The River). I enjoyed those times immensely. Usually while we played, he would tell me stories of his life. He never went into great detail about the battles he was in, but he told me about being in the Army and the places he had been to during wartime. He was part of the forces that invaded Sicily and knocked Mussolini's forces back. I learned a great deal about the enlisted man's perceptions of General Patton. The soldiers revered him, but few actually wished to serve under Old Blood and Guts.
I saw my grandfather only a few times after I enlisted in the Army. On those occasions, he had taken to calling me "Colonel." "How ya doin', Colonel?" he would ask whenever I arrived. During those visits, we talked at length about the Army, comparing our experiences. He had been in Germany in World War II up through a few months after the war ended, and had seen a lot of Germany then. Naturally, since I was stationed there, he had many questions about what the country was now like.
I can only wish that he had died as good a death as the life he lived. In 1991, while I was overseas, he had a stroke and fell over into the fireplace and sustained horrific burns to his head and chest. Though he was taken to the hospital and treated, it was only a matter of months before he passed away.
Grandpa, this is my tribute to you. I await the day when we shall meet in heaven. I look forward to telling you all about your great grandson, who has every bit the spirit and personality you had.
March 8,2008