My mother’s uncle, and her guardian, was born in Conlogue, Illinois, on this date in 1888. I knew him as Grandpa, usually written as G’pa.
A salesman through most of his career, after tough times during the Depression he established a successful insurance agency in Detroit in the 1940s and 1950s. Despite his success, his office was in the dining room, then in the second bedroom of a small apartment — a great place for a little boy to play “office”.
G’pa was a conservative, staid almost austere man. His favorite activity — other than work — was telling “stories” (jokes we would call them), none of which were ever off color and a few I can still remember hearing. He was good at the telling and no doubt that was part of his success in sales. Ironically though, it didn’t seem to serve him well in the Army, a time of his life he particularly disliked — but then he was a 29-year-old draftee.
Lee Cook sold the insurance agency when he was in his early 70s, but couldn’t retire. He continued trying to sell this or that, without much success. It was sad to see him so frustrated. (I learned then that I should have a blog when I retired to keep me busy.)
Grandpa’s been gone more than 35 years now, but I still miss him.
My earliest memory is of Great G’pa Cook, in the little mother-in-law apartment at G’pa’s on Orange Grove. It’s amazing how often I think of Great G’ma. I wear her wedding ring every day. Inside there is an inscription, “Bessie & Lee May 31, 1917”. Of course, it’s been worn everyday for almost 100 years, and you can barely make it out…but I know it’s there. Alas, now I’m melancholy.
Both of my G’Pas died 35 years ago too. One in May, one in October. Nasty year, that 1974.