If it's any consolation, I'm mostly Kraut. Mom's mom actually had a relly that flew with Von Richtofen. Confirmed ace, killed in action by ground fire.
That's the other side. It's probably why I'm so even tempered.
Grandma’s father was wanted by the Pol's. They were to behead him if he was found. We're not sure what for though. But the Pol's were after him so in the middle of the night they actually escaped Russia, through Poland and somehow ended up in Vancouver, then Edmonton. She met my Grandpa at military banquet, in Alaska. He was stationed there for the least talked about battle ever in WWII, the Aleutian Islands Campaign. He was an ass kicker and a medic.
She met him at a banquet put on for the Army staff. Grandma and her sister were in Alaska on a trip and snuck into the dance. She met him there but said she wasn’t sure she wanted to marry him because of his last name! This coming from a Russian lady, who I still can’t pronounce her last name.
The woman was the best cook ever. Not even a comparison. EVERYTHING was fresh and from scratch. Everyday. She had a huge garden that probably was an acre, that she grew veggies. She’d can them if they couldn’t be used right away. Saturday was bread day. All the bread was baked for the week starting early Saturday morning. Shocker…but even as a young kid, I was able to figure out when the loaves started coming out of the oven. My dad would bring me to visit grandma at 8am on Saturdays. I was probably 14 or 15 and went to get my Saturday bread. My dad and I ate about 7 loaves of warm bread, with melted butter. The good hard crust, sourdough, cracked wheat, rye, pumpernickel, white…we piled it away. She saw what we had done and completely laid into my dad and grandpa as I got away scott free. grandpa still laughs at that one. As the only grandson…I could do no wrong.
Grandpa was full German. His grandfather settled north of Duluth on the out skirts of a railroad town, Proctor, MN. They farmed the small piece there for a long time. My grandpa and grandma sold the last piece, where they lived to a hotel developer. It sits across the highway from Spirit Mt Ski hill. He ran big ass cable operated cranes from the late 40’s into the early 80’s when he retired. The old man still claims he can run circles around the whipper-snapper with the fly-by-wire controls. My dad will argue with him until he’s blue in the face that he can’t do it… I ain’t gonna be the guy to bet against him though. He retired from cranes and wouldn’t quit working, so he put up road construction signs throughout the state. As a young kid, my dad would drop me off at their house every morning and I’d fill sandbags for the sign bases.
Grandma died 16 years ago now. The big C got her. Grandpa is in assisted living in Duluth. Still sharp as a tack at 94, but his legs don’t work anymore. He has an electric wheel chair to make his rounds as the mayor of the place! Lol. He’s been voted as the residents rep like 4 times now which pisses people in there off. A few months ago, he broke his leg because he took a corner too hot in the chair. He had er cranked up a bit too high. Which shouldn’t be funny, but I laugh every time I think of him whipping around the corner so fast he busted his leg. He laughs at it, so it’s fine. My dad and step mom take care of him every day. He lived with them until he couldn’t walk anymore. It was too hard for my dad to carry and move him around. My dad is no spring chicken at 67. Lol
He loves road construction still to this day and keeps up with my projects with the computer, and construction articles in Industry magazines….which I think is cool as all hell. When I go visit him, we’ll sit and talk about it for hours.
