Grandpa E. P. Mathewson and the author at a couple of weeks old. (Little did I know I’d end up with such a full head of hair!)
By Andy Graybeal
As a preface I would like to stress that this isn’t a chronology so much as a collection of anecdotal incidents and recollections. If there is a structure present, it has been built around topics, such as family, buddies, interests and events. In that way I hope to give you a look into the time in which I grew from a kid to the old guy at the keyboard of my Mac with time on his hands. Most people can’t remember much about their birth and I’m no exception. From what I’m told, I was a blessed event and “a darling”, the latter being the postscript on Grandpa’s biweekly family letter, all six carbons of it. It has been 73 years since 6:15 that Sunday morning, January 29th, 1933 and most my sins have been forgotten if not forgiven. So if it seems to bounce around a bit, blame it on the escaping brain cells endemic among people of my age, which happens to be about four years older than the man holding me in the snapshot above.
Mother was a widow when I was born. My father died of a gunshot wound suffered while on a hunting trip. At the time of his death the family lived in company housing at the Miami Copper Co. where he was employed. It was during the great depression and the mine was cutting back operations resulting in layoffs of most the hourly workers, leaving management to hold down things until the price of copper returned to profitability.
6 comments:
I think we are witness to the rebirth of the great American blahg!
This comment is from an email to me from the son of Ramon Cadiz, whose cat is pictured in the part about my pre-teen experiences.
"Fascinating to come across your recollections of my father from the Tucson days. He died in 1991, you know, of an aneurism in his groin. He was 57. His brother C. Thornton Garst lives in Boston, is 85 years old, and as I understand from his daughter Frannie (my cousin, of course), he\'s recently undergone some kind of surgery for lung cancer (he stopped smoking many decades ago, as it happens). Garst became a Buddhist a looong time ago; I remember as a kid (in the 80s mostly) when he and his late wife, Eleanor, would spend time here with us in their travels between Soquel, where they lived for many, many years, and Mt Shasta, where they were involved with an ashram for a long time. So Garst lives...His son Ray Garst has a graphic design business in Santa Cruz, if i\'m not mistaken.
Well, thanks for your remembrances"
Ramon Cadiz Jr.
My Grandfather (who just passed away last march) is the C. Thornton Garst who you mentioned in this. I was looking up his name to see if anything came up, and this was one of the first ones! Being skeptical, I looked more into (even though I was sure it was him) and saw Ramon's name. I literally gasped. It was great seeing this, such a lovely surprise. I read the whole thing. It is such a wonderful account. I know you hardly mentioned my granfather, but it was great seeing him remembered like this.
Oh, unfortunately, he passed away of complications of the surgery mentioned by my mom's cousin. However, (as I said before), it's great to know he lives on in memory.
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