In Honor of Grandparents

I had four incredibly interesting grandparents.  Two of them died before I became an adult (I was twenty-three when my dad's dad died, but still a kid).  I had the great pleasure of knowing my dad's mom and and my mom's dad well, as an adult, and I am grateful every day that I did.  My son is named for my mother's father, as am I.  My father, sister, and niece are all named for my grandmother's family.  We are connected by more than our names, but the names serve as reminders that these grandparents were the ones who made us.  

At one point, I had the bright idea that I should record my grandmother, Toots, speaking about her life.  I must have been in Library school at the time, since archives have become important to me only since then.  She was a master storyteller, with a sing-song voice that she said was ruined by old age.  I think she was pleased that I wanted to record her stories.  I have yet to make of them what I promised her I would - some kind of official record of her life.  I have snippets, though, that I've transcribed from the recordings.  These snippets give me only a glimpse into her life. I value them as my prized possessions.

I share a few snippets with you in honor of your grandparents.  In honor of all the grandparents among us, of which my beloved parents are now two.

Ruth "Toots" Murphy, speaking about her life in Philadelphia during WWII:

Before she married, Toots worked at this publishing company.
She took the trolley into Philadelphia every day and bought
damaged books for a quarter.

I talked to you a while ago about Tim H--- that I used to go out with.  He joined the Merchant Marines. That poor guy was killed. His boat was torpedoed. He sank in the water with burning oil on the top of it.  What a way to go. Terrible.  My brother Billy was inducted into the service even though he had a wife and a child.  He went to the Pacific. Saw action. He was on a destroyer escort.  My brother Davy was still too young, but finally they caught up with him and said if you'll finish your college in three years, we'll take you in as an officer.  And he was on a flat top ship.  By the time his training was over, the war was over, but his ship did go to Tokyo to bring home some of our boys and Bill's brother Thurman. Although he was a mechanic, they put him at a desk job in Paris.  Wouldn't you know? 

We had blackouts, but I didn't remember putting anything up at my curtains. I must have just turned out the lights when the sirens blew.  And also in our apartment, it wasn't in houses but in apartments, they had the heat on in the morning. Then they turned it off all day and in the evening they'd put it back on again.  Sometimes I'd turn on the oven for a little heat.  We had no telephones.  No fans for the summer.  The heat was terrible, and of course no AC.  But we managed somehow or another.

Then of course, we had rationing. First of all there was the gas.  Well it didn't bother us too much because we had trolleys buses and trains right near us.  One time Bill and I wanted to go down to the seashore for a vacation at his mother's place and so he had to go to his ration board and ask if he could get the gas for it and we did.  We went and came back.  Sometimes I would take a trolley at night and go all the way up to Glenside and play bridge with my girls and come home late at night, twelve o'clock.  And I'd get off the bus, I had a long hat pin, and I'd hold it out and run down the middle of the street until I got to my apartment house because it was dangerous.  There was also meat rationing.  I would stand in line and by the time I got up to the counter all the meat was gone.  There was also sugar rationing. and I would give my coupons to bill's mother cause i didn't eat all that sugar and they in turn would give me some meat because they bought their meat on the hoof and they didn't need their rationing cards too much.  Now i couldn't get butter, because my milkman who had always given me butter would not not give me anymore.  So occasionally at the store they'd give me a quarter of a pound.  They'd say "Did you buy your butter form us before?"  And I'd have to say no, and maybe they'd give me a quarter of a pound.  We had little coupons for everything.  I still have a little book with a few coupons in it.  We managed.  I don't how we managed.  What did we eat?  One time I went to my mother's (I went to my mother's a lot to take care of the place while she was out), one time she said Ruth, you better bring over your meat coupon when you come here.  I said mother I don't have to eat your meat.  I don't think I ever gave her one. 

[When it was over] it was wonderful of course.  We were all happy and all our family came back which was nice.  They didn't get home immediately, you know, when the war was over.  As I said, Davy went out on the ship to pick up soldiers in Japan and bring them back home.  I think I showed you the picture of his wedding. He was still in the service.  They went out west, I guess they were supposed to.  He was married and they went out together, but I think he was mustered out and he got a job out there.  Eventually he came back and started to work at Campbell's Soup. My brother Billy, I wonder if that's what made him the way he was.  Before he went he had a good job and was making a lot of money. When he came back he went with the same firm. Something happened.  He and Suzie both drank.  Eventually she died.  He was very ill that day.  He was lying down when we went to the funeral. The army took him into the veterans hospital to dry him out.  He was there six months or so.  When he came out, he asked Bill for some money because he was going to try to get into his job again and he had to go to this convention to meet all these people. Well, he did get a job.  Didn't last. He started drinking.  We couldn't find him, so Bill contacted somebody who knew him and he said he's lying back there in this terrible little place sweating it out, and drinking.  Then a little later he called up Bill and said I haven't eaten in 3 days, I need some money. I want 75 dollars.  Billy never asked.  He told you.  Bill said I'll send you 25, you go live with your son. So that's what he did.