The Family Vault
Story 6: That Damned Bowtie
It’s a shame that you, dear reader, didn’t know my paternal grandparents, for that would have made this brief bit of our family history that much more enjoyable. My grandfather was a good guy. He enjoyed baseball (the Brooklyn Dodgers, then the New York Mets), spending time with his grandchildren, good food (he always had gravy spots on his tie), and just having fun in general. My grandmother — his wife, on the other hand — was a vain, grumpy, uptight, no-nonsense Kraut that lacked even a splinter of a funny bone.
Back in the day of 26 cent gasoline, Americans would go for the obligatory Sunday drive. Thousands of Americans would go to church, come home and eat dinner, then go for a drive in their old American iron. These were the times when people dressed up to go shopping, to a movie, or visit friends and family. Therefore, when they went for their Sunday drives, most were still in their Sunday best. Consequently, Grandpa was still wearing his suit, and on this particular Sunday, a bowtie.
My grandfather’s car at the time was a black 1948 Chrysler Windsor Highlander, with a red plaid cloth interior…STYLISH!
Now, my grandfather did like to have fun, and I know MY version of fun includes driving faster than I should. Evidently I got my lead foot from my grandfather.
