A Beginning Part 3

I don’t know anywhere as much about my paternal grandparents. I know that my grandmother was from England, but I don’t know what part, family or other miscellaneous information. What I do know is that she raised two boys and a girl without a husband present. She worked three jobs to make the money to clothe and feed them. This is going to launch into a slightly feminist rant.


In those days, women were looked after. They were either at home, being looked after by their fathers, or they were married and looked after by their husbands. Either way, they didn’t need a real income and so they were paid at two thirds, on average, the wage a man got for the same work. If you couldn’t get a mans job, you got a womans job, which paid even less. If you did get a mans job, then you got passed over for promotion and responsibility, because you don’t really need the job. The men, after all, have a family to feed. Thus three jobs.


My grandfather was missing in action. Not to do with a war, such as world war one or two, but more to do with the war on alcohol, which he was loosing. He also had a gambling war, which he also tended to loose at to. And his attitude to women stank.


My grandmother and aunt were killed when my father was 13. They were run over by a young, rich, drunk driver. He was never prosecuted, I was informed, because his father knew the right people. My grandfather was left with two boys to look after, and had no parenting skills. It was difficult to do as he still had a strong gambling and alcohol addiction.


My grandfather was the kind of man who really enjoyed hanging out at chess cafe’s, drinking and playing chess. Why don’t we have those here anymore, I would like to know. Sitting down to a nice soy chai late and playing an embracing game of chess, or something else, sounds like a fantastic afternoon to me.


My grandfather did have some troubles with the war around the time my father was born. He was in a business, a grocery business, just as the war broke out. His surname was very Austrian-Jewish, so his business dried up and no one would by vegetables from him. His solution to this was to change the name of the business to something more English. Business boomed. At this time, my father was born, and was given this new name. As the war ended, my grandfather changed his name back and my uncle was born. He got the new old name, while my father got the old new name. This made it quite tricky for me to find my grandfather in hospital one time, as I thought he still had my fathers surname.


That most of what I know of the history of my paternal grandparents.


The next bit of history is my parents. You may be surprised to here this, but I have two parents, and some other add in’s on the way.