Bad News

Going through old papers that belonged to my parents, I have been finding clippings, telegrams, old letters. Usually, these news bits are sent out to announce a death, or to prepare people for the inevitable. I figured I'd just put whatever I find in this category here on this post.






Dad died suddenly of a heart attack in 1971, at age 58. I remember the grown-ups' major production in finalizing this obituary for the San Diego Union newspaper. Notably absent in the list of survivors is my sister Susan's name. Mom and Susan and a terrible falling out and she had, I guess, been banished forever from the family. I don't think it was Dad who had the problem with Susan, and I don't think he would have minded having her name in his obit, after all, he did raise her as his own. But then, I arrived very late on the scene in this family and I'm sure I don't know the whole story.



An interesting look at how people were notified in the days before cell phones, emails, or scype (or however you spell it). This was a telegram sent to Mom, telling her that her Mom was near death. This happened 3 years before I came along. Mom told me that all her brothers were at their moms deathbed, and after lingering in a coma from kidney failure for days, Grandma Elsie suddenly opened up her eyes, said, "Oh Pa, you've come for me," reached out to her deceased husband, and then took her last breath and died with a smile on her face. So did grandma Elsie really see the spirit of her dead husband, the father of her nine children? We couldn't know. But there were four grown sons, one of them a reknown published Sociology professor from University of Minnesota, Minneapolis, witnessing her death. He had a sense of humor, but he didn't lie about stuff. So Something happened to help ease Grandma's transition. I personally think it was her husband.




This in turn in an answer to a letter Grandma Elsie wrote to announce the death of her own mom. I don't remember Mom ever saying what killed her. This letter writer was a good friend of Elsie from childhood. Kind of sad that she couldn't go to the funeral, but it sounds like she is taking care of her own sick mom. An interesting fact also, is that Elsie was pregnant for my Mom when this death occured. My Mom was born on Halloween, 1921, about 4 weeks after the death of "little Grandma Cynthia"

Halloween

view of downtown from shelter island

Train Ride to Mexico

Buellton, California

Every since I was a young teen, I was obsessed with Buellton California. Its a very long story as to how I came to be obsessed, and that will probably be the subject of a future book. The real quick version is this: For a 2 year period of time in the 1970s, Mom would throw my younger siblings and me in the car and we would head north on Highway 101 for a nice 8 hour drive. Just about every weekend. So, a little past Santa Barbara, I would start noticing roadside teases, inviting the driver to stop at Buellton for some hot Pea Soup at Pea Soup Andersen's. The signs were like the old Burma-shave ads. Those signs, with the big guy and the little guy, splitting peas, invited weary drivers to stop off at Buellton, and enjoy a bowl of famous split pea soup. I would always ask mom if we could stop and try the soup, and mom always said, "Maybe next time." Next time never came on those 1974-75 road trips.  But when we drove up to Cal Poly, I finally was able to stop and have my bowl of Andersen's Pea Soup. It took about 35 years, but it finally happened.  Patience is a virtue.