doublegunshop.com - home Forums General Discussion DoubleGun BBS @ doublegunshop.com Ot fO jO, Grand pappy & mammy thread.

O.M., thanks for this opportunity. After reading about Stan's granddad, I thought a lot of my grandparents today.
My dad's dad died when I was 18. Mom's when I was 10. They were in transportation of sorts. Mom's dad was a sea captain who served in the USNR in WWI and WWII. He was first mate on the civilian ship the SS City of Memphis which was sunk off the coast of Ireland by UC-66, a German U-boat, on March 17, 1917, a few weeks before we entered the war. It had delivered horses at LaHarve and was heading back to Savannah in ballast. The Germans had just declared the waters subject to unrestricted submarine warfare. He was eligible for exemption from service in WWII because of essential civilian employment as tug captain having just left ocean service as a master mariner but he wouldn't seek it. At war's end he received a presidential promotion to captain. During the war he and my grandmother lost their oldest son who was executed after being shot down by the Japanese over New Guinea. He was one of three sons who served. After the war, he was tugboat captain at the local port. My great-great grandfather had been a tug captain as well and Papa worked on his tug, the Cynthia, for a brief period. It was put in service in the late 1800s as a coal burner and eventually was diesel powered. My first office overlooked the tugboat docks and the Cynthia was used in reserve a 100 years after being launched. Dad's dad was a RR engineer who retired from the ACL with 51 years service when he was 65. I don't need anyone to do the math to tell me that he was 14 when he left Nebo, NC, because his dad told him there were too many mouths to feed at home. He lied about his age; and was immediately hired. The railroad needed bodies in Savannah. He died one year after retirement from cancer perhaps caused by years of exposure to coal dust and smoke in the cab of a steam engine. Mom has told me of the times dad had to help Nana put and take Papa in and out the tub because he couldn't do it on his own. He would be covered with coal dust and soot. I have a vivid recollection of being about 6 going down to the docks seeing an ambulance take my other grandfather away after having a stroke. It was the last day for him at the helm of the fire tugboat Chatham. When I retired the first time 15 years ago, I gave the photos of both old tugs and a print of a painting by Robert West of the ACL East Coast Champion at Race Pond, GA., on my grandfather's run to my brother for his office. The artist's grandfather was a porter on the train at a time when his and my grandfather's time overlapped and may have been on the Champion's run at the same time. At that time, the tradition was porters were black men. The train ran from NYC to Miami, Florida. I was the only grandchild to ride both the East Coast Champion with my granddad at the deadman's switch and with my other grandfather at the helm of his tugboat. I'd often meet Papa after his run with my grandmother at Union Station and lug his "grip" with both hands from the Champion back to their old Pontiac. As a kid, on his days off, I'd go with him to visit his old fireman, Isaac, an old black man who saved his life by pushing him off the track when he didn't hear a box car being pushed his way for coupling. Loss of hearing was an occupational hazard working in and out of trains. I had wonderful grandparents and my grandmothers were as sweet as sweet could be. My RR granddad met my grandmother at the boarding house my great grandmother owned and operated boarding railroad men. Her husband was killed working with the railroad and she bought the house with the insurance. My sea captain grandfather had a ship with engine trouble and was berthed for a couple of months in Bermuda undergoing repairs where he met and married my grandmother. I think of them often. (Right now when I think of trains and my granddad, I think of ole' Dizzy Dean on the Falstaff Game of the Week with PeeWee Reese with Dizzy singing the Wabash Cannonball followed by: "Buy Falstaff Beer.
It's everwhar".) None of them hunted.