 On behalf of my family, I want to take a few minutes to share some memories of our Grandpa, reflecting back on a period when he was happy, healthy and had the love of his life and partner in mischief at his side, Grandma Lillian.
Without a doubt, Grandpa had a sense of humor, a keen sense of adventure, a wild mischievous streak, and great love and respect for his family. From trips to Hanford or Julian, snipe hunting, grunion hunting, clamming, camping, dove hunting, dune buggy rides, water skiing, leisurely days spent at the Kona Kai Club, barbecues at the O.B.C. club or fish fries at the S.E.S. Hall, Grandpa was often leading the charge, and always with Grandma Lillian at his side.
Never one to sit idle, Grandpa was either on the move or tackling a new project.
Back in the 50s, he had the go-to garage for working on hot rods, and Joe Varley, Peter Morrow, Tommy Madruga and others spent many hours there. Pete may still remember Grandpa’s paint job that won him prizes at car shows. And although Grandpa didn’t attend the illegal races at Hour Glass field he claimed that he knew that Grandpa Les was racing based on the way he kept going through tires. Unfortunately, despite their best efforts and the many hours spent in the garage, they never could get that Ford souped up enough to beat Tommy Madruga’s Chevy!
My grandfather Les was nicknamed “Babe” by family members, short for “Baby Les.” This name suited him just fine until he started school and was teased by his classmates, and then he decided that he didn’t like it at all. However, he had a change of heart after his father took him to the movies to see “The Babe Ruth Story.” When coming out of the movie, he told his father “you can call me Babe anytime!” The name stuck and his family and close friends, including a few who were grade school buddies, have continued to call him “Babe” over the years.
Because of the many special projects he undertook, he always had scraps of leftovers. The younger members of the family, like my Uncle Brian, remember the special box of wood blocks that Grandpa salvaged from projects for us to play with.
And it wasn’t Sunday without a family dinner at Grandma and Grandpa’s. Despite a growing family, Grandma and Grandpa always managed to get everyone around the dinner table on Sundays, including Grandma Perry and Aunt Lucy. And if you were celebrating a birthday—or just played your cards right—you would be rewarded with the favorite seat at the table, the stool located right between Grandma and Grandpa.
A favorite for all the kids was when Grandpa made “Breakfast for Dinner.” He would break out the electric griddle and eggs and sausage and pancakes shaped like your initials or like Mickey Mouse.
Grandpa was responsible for teaching each of the kids—boys and girls alike--to fish. Nothing was more exciting than going on a day trip with Grandpa, launching the boat at Shelter Island , heading out to sea and then waiting for the first fish of the day. “Grandpa, grandpa – I’ve got a bite!” was always followed by his standard response, “Scratch it!”
There are so many great memories from weekends spent at the cabin in Julian, which so many people had the opportunity to enjoy, including members of the Portuguese Dance Club. Sure, for the kids, every road trip to Julian sitting under the shell in the back of Grandpa’s El Camino was a death wish. I’m told that despite being banged up when Grandpa made a sharp turn–or simply hit the breaks for fun—they kept going back for more because weekends in Julian were always an adventure involving snow ball fights or sledding, dune buggy or motorcycle rides, camping on the deck and throwing popcorn to the bats, picking apples or collecting acorns, catching snakes, frogs, and horned toads, or going on the ever elusive hunt for snipe.
Grandpa must have had a pocket full of stones that he discreetly threw in every direction to convince the kids that the snipe were out there in the dark, just beyond their reach. I’m told that there were quite a few flashlight batteries killed in the never-ending search for snipe! The kids were nearly adults before they figured out that Grandpa had played them. Remember that this was before the internet and Google searches. He got them good!
And then there was the time that Grandpa decided to hitch the toboggan to the back of his motor cycle to tow the kids up the snow covered streets. Sure, it took several hours to pick the grit kicked up from the road out of their eyes, teeth and hair, but boy they had fun.
Grandpa had a way of getting what he wanted. As he sat with his feet up in his Lazy Boy waiting for Mutual of Omaha, the Wonderful World of Disney, or a professional wrestling match to start, he would say, “Boy, [fill the name in the blank], you make the best popcorn ever, with just the right amount of salt and butter. I think I should open a popcorn store for you when you get older. We could make millions!” Each person responded in the same way – Grandpa got his hot bowl of popcorn within minutes. It wasn’t until they were much older that they realized that Grandpa was just working them for one of his favorite treats!
And speaking of his Lazy Boy, everyone remembers how he would often greet them with a ““How would you like a kiss?” from his favorite chair. He would then reach into the table by his side and pull out a shiny Hershey’s chocolate. Grandma always made sure his drawer was well stocked.
Grandpa was a man of many talents and he even got to play doctor when he and Grandma Lil—with some help from a local policeman—delivered my Uncle Les right on a sofa in their house. Grandpa stayed cool as a cucumber, carefully unwrapping the cord tightly looped around his neck.
Of course, with Christmas right around the corner, the family is reminded of the many ways in which Grandma and Grandpa made this holiday so special. From the traditional Christmas Eve dinner to celebrate Grandpa Les’ birthday with pickled pork, to nights slept on the sofa in hopes of catching Santa filling the stockings hung in a row at the chimney, there have been so many great stories shared in recent days. One favorite relates to the night that Grandpa gathered all of the kids at the window in his den so he could point out Rudolph leading Santa’s sleigh. It took quite a few minutes, but eventually he was able to get each child to see the little red blinking light moving through the sky, so carefully following the direction of the commercial jets through the Lindbergh Field flight path in order to avoid a mid-air collision. Like magic, when everyone returned to the front room, the stockings were filled with goodies, including butterfly nets and trinkets and toys. There were even some lemons and sticks left on the mantel for the naughty girls and boys, but nobody claimed those!
In small ways and big, Grandpa always took care of Grandma Lillian. For example, he never left for work in the morning without first bringing a cup of coffee to her bed and parting with a good-bye kiss. While Grandpa was getting ready for work, Grandma was frequently joined in her bed by a visiting sister or a grandchild, and Grandpa always made sure they too received a hot mug of coffee. My mother Debra blames this ritual for starting her on her way to a 40+ year coffee addiction.
Perhaps most of all, we remember and appreciate his devotion to our Grandmother Lillian throughout their marriage and especially through her long and progressively challenging struggle with Alzheimer’s disease. Despite receiving recommendations from doctors and hospice workers to put her in a home, he insisted—and he did—give her the most loving care possible in the comfort of her very own home. He honored the vows he made to her on his wedding day, “to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part,” setting an example for the four generations he left behind.
Finally, we remember that although he was not a big man, he was a very strong man, tough and a fighter, a man or character, a real gentleman with a big heart, who always kept us laughing. These memories and many, many more we will always treasure.
Source:
Renée Perry
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