Monday, February 11, 2013

Grammy Bares A Little More!

A few weeks ago, Jeff Rivera, a bestselling author, asked me for an interview about my "Grammy's Gang" series.

Of course I said yes and was very honored for the opportunity.  But I started to wonder why it took 68 years for someone to think that I was interview-worthy.   It caused me to think about my life and whether or not any of it mattered.

I was born at the tail-end of World War II, September 9, 1944 just eleven months before the atomic bombing of Hiroshima, Japan by the U.S.  I made my way into this world in the usual manner traveling traumatically down the birth canal and then being yanked out of my mother by a strange man I had never met.  Since I was born at home, my baba handled the afterbirth duties.  She whisked me off to the kitchen, filled a bowl with warm water, and scrubbed allthat placenta gunk off me. When hearing what she thought was respiratory congestion, she smeared Vicks vaporub under my nose causing me to turn blue and to stop breathing.  Her quick action of slapping me on the back and ass assuredly saved my life.  I think interviewing me at this time would have definitely been in order!

Three and a half years later, one of the most tragic events in my short life happened.  My dad, then a young man of 38 years, was killed in a work-related accident.  He was employed by USSteel as a property supervisor.  While inspecting a 30ft.improperly installed blast furnace door, the hinges gave way and the entire structure crashed to the ground.  Unfortunately my dad couldn't run fast enough and was completed pulverized from the waist down.  He died two days later. In those days the dead were oftentimes laid out at home.  For three days my dad was viewed by hundreds of family members, fellow workers, friends, and a few noseys just wanting to catch a glimpse of a smashed millworker.The wailing and breast-pounding was much more frightening to me than my dad's body lying in the coffin.  Yet nobody tried to explain what had happened and what would happen now let alone ask how I was feeling, or offer some kind of comfort.  Certainly I would have welcomed an interview then from some caring soul if even to just have somebody to talk to.

Well, enough for now.  This Grammy can only bare her soul a little at one time.  But hey, please take the time to read Jeff Rivera's interview concerning my "Grammy's Gang" series.  You'll get an idea of why and how I started a new career at the ripe young age of 68!