I got some more interesting stories from my dad’s mother.
Grandma was a war bride from WWII who came over to be with my grandpa, who she’d married in England. The Catholic church she attended did not recognize the marriage. They informed her that she was “living in sin” and her children were “bastards”. Finally, to appease them, she got married to my grandpa again with the required Catholic ceremony.
In passing my grandmother and parents remarked that they remember a time when a road now called the Atwood Rd was instead called Nigger Hill Rd. When asked for more details my dad said, “Well it was probably some black guys living on a hill.”
My grandmother talks about my grandpa and his temper. I guess he had a tendency to get in fist fights. He owned a shop which sold gas and he also fixed cars. Some guy came in and asked grandpa to fix his headlight. Grandpa said, “No! I don’t do electrical work and I can’t fix it.” The guy began to insist until finally, grandpa threw him out- physically like they do in Westerns, by the collar and seat of the pants. The guy charged back in a punched grandpa. Grandpa came right back with punch that took this customer to the ground, then he kept punching. Grandma saw from the house (next door to the shop) what was happening and sent my dad, who was about 14 years old, out there to stop him. My dad ran outside and found grandpa kneeling over the man punching him repeatedly, so he shouted at grandpa, “Dad, stop!” Then after all this grandpa fixed the man’s headlight!