Grandma Alice was pulled into the mystique of the City Club by my dad Bucky during the early 1940's. My brothers and sister were born during that time. Bucky's dad (Chalk) died in 1946 and a soap opera began. Bucky's mom, Myrna married a "dead beat" in the late 1940's. Bucky and Bob got involved the the business of the City Club in the late 1940's and early 50's. The "dead beat" piddled away the assets of the City Club and Myrna ended up broke. Alice got to watch the whole thing from our upstairs apartment.
Alice's dream was to get out of the City Club after my dad died. It was literally sucking the life out of her. So when Ray Torke came along, it was a ticket out. They bought the farm on the hill on Hightway 23. Alice had become a very, very strong individual by this time and Raymond wasn't exactly a nurturing mate.
So for the next 20 years Grandma Alice lived on the farm. You Grasshoppers got to experience Saturday morning breakfasts with Alice.
Grandchildren were always special. They got treated very well on the farm. Your cousin Valerie, Debs, and cousin Mary Alice seemed to warrant special attention but I don't think any Grandchild felt left out.
Breakfast with Alice was a "happening". There was lots of bacon and eggs. The bacon was fried at very low heat so that it didn't burn and eggs were fried in butter. You never got what you ordered. If you wanted one egg, you probably got two or three and eventually would be offered more. One piece of bacon meant 4-5 pieces. The German Hospitality Creed was in effect! Stuff your guests! All of this made for a memorable experience.
For years my brother Jerry lived on the farm while working at Kohler. Sometimes he would join us for breakfast. My brother Jack sometimes would show up for the gathering. Ray Torke would come in from from feeding the sheep to eat and usually the conversation turned stupid or he would go off on a non-sensical rant.
Preparing breakfast was work for Grandma Alice. As time went on, her diabetes kept getting worse and of course her smoking habit caused breathing and coughing problems. So the Saturdays got more difficult and I know there were times she really didn't want to see anyone.
I do remember rooms filled with smoke. Alice smoked. Jerry Lee smoked. Jack smoked. It got the the point where it wasn't as much fun but the breakfast made it worth while.
I also remember helping Alice with her diabetes. She had to prick a finger and immerse litmus paper in the blood. Dependent on the color of the litmus paper, it determined the amount of insulin she would have to take to stabilize her "system". We would argue about the shades of pink and blue in the litmus.
Alice deserved better in life. Her struggles embittered her. My dad died leaving her with tremendous responsibility. She did what she had to do. She survived.
By the time grandchildren began to arrive, Alice was a different person than I remember growing up. The softness was gone and the family I had known would never be the same.
But who could forget breakfast with Grandma Alice? My guess is that every Grandchild has a special memory. It was a special time.
Love,
Dad
Yeah the amount of butter she used on the eggs was...lets say a tad generous. The best was the ice cold coke she would give you to wash it all down with.......ahhh a coke and a smile....