Does intergenerational identity affect political tribal instincts?

[anon_6hv78pr714xta]

Another thread got me thinking about how different my life is from that of my father and grandfather, both of whom spent their whole lives in one place. They both lived their entire lives, minus military service, within a mile of where they were born, as did their fathers going back to the 1860s when my grandfather's grandfather (I think I got that right) moved to northern Indiana from Pennsylvania.

Each son's life and time is different than his father's, but I wonder what the effect of rapid technological change will be on this or has been? The difference between my son's life and my dad's growing up is quite enormous--my son has never know a life without smart phones, HD TV, amazing video games, On Demand TV, etc. Since 1st grade, his school has provided him with an iPad. Imagine at the pace of technological change, how the differences in upbringing is going to change as time goes on. Contrast that with a couple of hundred years ago, when each generation essentially lived the same life as the previous one.

How does all this affect how closely we are tied to our fathers and grandfathers and sons? Does it lead to a loss of identity—that derived from family, of this is who I am, I’m a [fill in your last name here]? Does that kind of lack of connection lead to increased mobility, thereby leading to more disconnectedness, less affection for the land and place of your birth and family? Is this a good thing—a method of decreasing tribalism? Or do we humans need tribalism of some sort, and so in lacking the familial or regional identity and tribe, do we look for it in the political? Regarding this last question, I guess you could poll people (if polling worked) and analyze the degree of political tribalness in those who also feel or don’t feel tribal about their homeland/region. It might be people have varying degrees of triableness as an attribute?

Outside the abstract level, I'd love to hear stories or anecdotes about other poster's fathers or grandfathers, how they came from a different time or had a different attitude, whatever. Here's one from me:

My grandparents watched me when I was little, pre-elementary school, during the day. I can still picture their family room with their black and white flecked “davenport” and grandpas claw footed, green tufted leather chair. He would sit in it, and I would sit in his lap, and he would hold me and I felt like I belonged. He smelled of barbershop aftershave and grease and sweat. He would sometimes smack his lips, trying to wet them, and when I saw him later in life, when it was less frequent and it wasn't cool to spend time with your grandparents, he would always stand up and say “Great Day! Look who’s here.” When he sneezed, he would exclaim “horseandbuggy” while he exploded into a handkerchief he carried in his pocket at all times. He wore his pants at his waste, and in later life when his belly protruded, he would wear leisure pants made out polyester that would cover that belly but were still cut in a dress pant style—I can’t recall him ever wearing jeans.

Once, when a teenager, I was late for tennis practice and the car didn’t work. It was during the day and mom and dad were gone and I must have been driving dad’s truck. Grandpa came down to the house and loaned me his car. But instead of driving him home, he insisted he’d walk the mile or two back and just had me drop him at the corner of my street and the county road that ran by his house, about two miles away. I have that image stuck in my head and it pops back up every once in awhile like one of those Facebook memory posts: as I drove off in the opposite direction in his blue 70s Dodge boat that lacked power steering, I saw him just walking away, his back to me. My tall grandpa (much taller than me) nonchalantly walking down that busy, two lane county road, cars approaching at 50 miles an hour, and him focused on the road ahead, head held high, not an ounce of self-consciousness apparent. He was just doing what needed to be done. Maybe I'm romanticizing him on this silly point, I don't know, but I wish I were more like him.

 

[mcmurtry66]

Another thread got me thinking about how different my life is from that of my father and grandfather, both of whom spent their whole lives in one place. They both lived their entire lives, minus military service, within a mile of where they were born, as did their fathers going back to the 1860s when my grandfather's grandfather (I think I got that right) moved to northern Indiana from Pennsylvania.

Each son's life and time is different than his father's, but I wonder what the effect of rapid technological change will be on this or has been? The difference between my son's life and my dad's growing up is quite enormous--my son has never know a life without smart phones, HD TV, amazing video games, On Demand TV, etc. Since 1st grade, his school has provided him with an iPad. Imagine at the pace of technological change, how the differences in upbringing is going to change as time goes on. Contrast that with a couple of hundred years ago, when each generation essentially lived the same life as the previous one.

How does all this affect how closely we are tied to our fathers and grandfathers and sons? Does it lead to a loss of identity—that derived from family, of this is who I am, I’m a [fill in your last name here]? Does that kind of lack of connection lead to increased mobility, thereby leading to more disconnectedness, less affection for the land and place of your birth and family? Is this a good thing—a method of decreasing tribalism? Or do we humans need tribalism of some sort, and so in lacking the familial or regional identity and tribe, do we look for it in the political? Regarding this last question, I guess you could poll people (if polling worked) and analyze the degree of political tribalness in those who also feel or don’t feel tribal about their homeland/region. It might be people have varying degrees of triableness as an attribute?

Outside the abstract level, I'd love to hear stories or anecdotes about other poster's fathers or grandfathers, how they came from a different time or had a different attitude, whatever. Here's one from me:

My grandparents watched me when I was little, pre-elementary school, during the day. I can still picture their family room with their black and white flecked “davenport” and grandpas claw footed, green tufted leather chair. He would sit in it, and I would sit in his lap, and he would hold me and I felt like I belonged. He smelled of barbershop aftershave and grease and sweat. He would sometimes smack his lips, trying to wet them, and when I saw him later in life, when it was less frequent and it wasn't cool to spend time with your grandparents, he would always stand up and say “Great Day! Look who’s here.” When he sneezed, he would exclaim “horseandbuggy” while he exploded into a handkerchief he carried in his pocket at all times. He wore his pants at his waste, and in later life when his belly protruded, he would wear leisure pants made out polyester that would cover that belly but were still cut in a dress pant style—I can’t recall him ever wearing jeans.

Once, when a teenager, I was late for tennis practice and the car didn’t work. It was during the day and mom and dad were gone and I must have been driving dad’s truck. Grandpa came down to the house and loaned me his car. But instead of driving him home, he insisted he’d walk the mile or two back and just had me drop him at the corner of my street and the county road that ran by his house, about two miles away. I have that image stuck in my head and it pops back up every once in awhile like one of those Facebook memory posts: as I drove off in the opposite direction in his blue 70s Dodge boat that lacked power steering, I saw him just walking away, his back to me. My tall grandpa (much taller than me) nonchalantly walking down that busy, two lane county road, cars approaching at 50 miles an hour, and him focused on the road ahead, head held high, not an ounce of self-consciousness apparent. He was just doing what needed to be done. Maybe I'm romanticizing him on this silly point, I don't know, but I wish I were more like him.

Not a substantive reply to your thoughtful post but imagine the impact when we can get from San Fran to LA in 45 on a train; Stl to Kc/Chicago; The east coast NY to Dc etc

 

[Bulk VanderHuge]

Another thread got me thinking about how different my life is from that of my father and grandfather, both of whom spent their whole lives in one place. They both lived their entire lives, minus military service, within a mile of where they were born, as did their fathers going back to the 1860s when my grandfather's grandfather (I think I got that right) moved to northern Indiana from Pennsylvania.

Each son's life and time is different than his father's, but I wonder what the effect of rapid technological change will be on this or has been? The difference between my son's life and my dad's growing up is quite enormous--my son has never know a life without smart phones, HD TV, amazing video games, On Demand TV, etc. Since 1st grade, his school has provided him with an iPad. Imagine at the pace of technological change, how the differences in upbringing is going to change as time goes on. Contrast that with a couple of hundred years ago, when each generation essentially lived the same life as the previous one.

How does all this affect how closely we are tied to our fathers and grandfathers and sons? Does it lead to a loss of identity—that derived from family, of this is who I am, I’m a [fill in your last name here]? Does that kind of lack of connection lead to increased mobility, thereby leading to more disconnectedness, less affection for the land and place of your birth and family? Is this a good thing—a method of decreasing tribalism? Or do we humans need tribalism of some sort, and so in lacking the familial or regional identity and tribe, do we look for it in the political? Regarding this last question, I guess you could poll people (if polling worked) and analyze the degree of political tribalness in those who also feel or don’t feel tribal about their homeland/region. It might be people have varying degrees of triableness as an attribute?

Outside the abstract level, I'd love to hear stories or anecdotes about other poster's fathers or grandfathers, how they came from a different time or had a different attitude, whatever. Here's one from me:

My grandparents watched me when I was little, pre-elementary school, during the day. I can still picture their family room with their black and white flecked “davenport” and grandpas claw footed, green tufted leather chair. He would sit in it, and I would sit in his lap, and he would hold me and I felt like I belonged. He smelled of barbershop aftershave and grease and sweat. He would sometimes smack his lips, trying to wet them, and when I saw him later in life, when it was less frequent and it wasn't cool to spend time with your grandparents, he would always stand up and say “Great Day! Look who’s here.” When he sneezed, he would exclaim “horseandbuggy” while he exploded into a handkerchief he carried in his pocket at all times. He wore his pants at his waste, and in later life when his belly protruded, he would wear leisure pants made out polyester that would cover that belly but were still cut in a dress pant style—I can’t recall him ever wearing jeans.

Once, when a teenager, I was late for tennis practice and the car didn’t work. It was during the day and mom and dad were gone and I must have been driving dad’s truck. Grandpa came down to the house and loaned me his car. But instead of driving him home, he insisted he’d walk the mile or two back and just had me drop him at the corner of my street and the county road that ran by his house, about two miles away. I have that image stuck in my head and it pops back up every once in awhile like one of those Facebook memory posts: as I drove off in the opposite direction in his blue 70s Dodge boat that lacked power steering, I saw him just walking away, his back to me. My tall grandpa (much taller than me) nonchalantly walking down that busy, two lane county road, cars approaching at 50 miles an hour, and him focused on the road ahead, head held high, not an ounce of self-consciousness apparent. He was just doing what needed to be done. Maybe I'm romanticizing him on this silly point, I don't know, but I wish I were more like him.

Tennis practice? Dude. 😧


(jk...interesting topic, and I look forward to reading these memories. I've shared some blasts from the past from my rural upbringing in other threads, and, while mine are usually ponderous to read, others are fascinating for various reasons. Your stories above are great, btw.)

 

[Ladoga]

Not a substantive reply to your thoughtful post but imagine the impact when we can get from San Fran to LA in 45 on a train; Stl to Kc/Chicago; The east coast NY to Dc etc

My maternal grandfather lived during the Wright Brothers' first flight and to see man walk on the moon. He was my best man at our wedding. My paternal grandfather was born during the Civil War and lived past WW II. I knew both of them and they knew me. This is just a glance at your topic applied to my grandfathers and I intend to write more. I've spent close to 50 years doing genealogy and have gotten a lot of information but still lack some detail I'm yet pursuing.

 

[larsIU]

To your point, humans seek a tribe. We are a communal species, right? I guess we're going to find it somewhere.

As to me, very few of my family members have left the state of Indiana. Huge Catholic family and maybe 5 now reside outside of the Indy metro area (out of nearly 50-60 aunts/uncles, cousins, 2nd cousins, etc - and yes I actually see these people regularly).

My dad grew up in a very small town in north central Indiana. Only child. 24 people in his graduating class. His high school was consolidated back in the 60's. My mom, on the other hand, grew up on the east side of Indy with 8 brothers and sisters. Damn near polar opposites. My mom's family basically adopted him as his parents were dead before they got married. I've literally only met one member of my dad's family and that was some obscure uncle that lived in Florida. I was probably 7 or 8.

They got together and I grew up in the burbs which was definitely not close to how either of them came up. Fun fact - somehow I live less than 10 miles from where I grew up. I did not intend for this to happen but I think it's hard to make the leap to move 100's of miles away from life long friends/family, etc. And, if you're gonna do that, you gotta do it young before you get established in a career, etc. For the most part anyway.

I do think people's formative geographical upbringing (gonna trademark that) does play a role in how they view the world. From the people around them to the circumstances of the area they were born into. It seems obvious that a person from coal country would think differently about labor laws and environmental concerns than those born in NYC. They might both agree labor should be paramount but diverge on environmental issues (as regs would shut down coal, the only industry they know, etc).

Interesting question.

 

[anon_6hv78pr714xta]

Tennis practice? Dude. 😧


(jk...interesting topic, and I look forward to reading these memories. I've shared some blasts from the past from my rural upbringing in other threads, and, while mine are usually ponderous to read, others are fascinating for various reasons. Your stories above are great, btw.)

I was 5'7", 120 lbs when I graduated. Football just wasn't in the cards, no matter how much my dad wanted it to be.

 

[larsIU]

I was 5'7", 120 lbs when I graduated. Football just wasn't in the cards, no matter how much my dad wanted it to be.

Coulda been Messi!!!

 

[DANC]

Another thread got me thinking about how different my life is from that of my father and grandfather, both of whom spent their whole lives in one place. They both lived their entire lives, minus military service, within a mile of where they were born, as did their fathers going back to the 1860s when my grandfather's grandfather (I think I got that right) moved to northern Indiana from Pennsylvania.

Each son's life and time is different than his father's, but I wonder what the effect of rapid technological change will be on this or has been? The difference between my son's life and my dad's growing up is quite enormous--my son has never know a life without smart phones, HD TV, amazing video games, On Demand TV, etc. Since 1st grade, his school has provided him with an iPad. Imagine at the pace of technological change, how the differences in upbringing is going to change as time goes on. Contrast that with a couple of hundred years ago, when each generation essentially lived the same life as the previous one.

How does all this affect how closely we are tied to our fathers and grandfathers and sons? Does it lead to a loss of identity—that derived from family, of this is who I am, I’m a [fill in your last name here]? Does that kind of lack of connection lead to increased mobility, thereby leading to more disconnectedness, less affection for the land and place of your birth and family? Is this a good thing—a method of decreasing tribalism? Or do we humans need tribalism of some sort, and so in lacking the familial or regional identity and tribe, do we look for it in the political? Regarding this last question, I guess you could poll people (if polling worked) and analyze the degree of political tribalness in those who also feel or don’t feel tribal about their homeland/region. It might be people have varying degrees of triableness as an attribute?

Outside the abstract level, I'd love to hear stories or anecdotes about other poster's fathers or grandfathers, how they came from a different time or had a different attitude, whatever. Here's one from me:

My grandparents watched me when I was little, pre-elementary school, during the day. I can still picture their family room with their black and white flecked “davenport” and grandpas claw footed, green tufted leather chair. He would sit in it, and I would sit in his lap, and he would hold me and I felt like I belonged. He smelled of barbershop aftershave and grease and sweat. He would sometimes smack his lips, trying to wet them, and when I saw him later in life, when it was less frequent and it wasn't cool to spend time with your grandparents, he would always stand up and say “Great Day! Look who’s here.” When he sneezed, he would exclaim “horseandbuggy” while he exploded into a handkerchief he carried in his pocket at all times. He wore his pants at his waste, and in later life when his belly protruded, he would wear leisure pants made out polyester that would cover that belly but were still cut in a dress pant style—I can’t recall him ever wearing jeans.

Once, when a teenager, I was late for tennis practice and the car didn’t work. It was during the day and mom and dad were gone and I must have been driving dad’s truck. Grandpa came down to the house and loaned me his car. But instead of driving him home, he insisted he’d walk the mile or two back and just had me drop him at the corner of my street and the county road that ran by his house, about two miles away. I have that image stuck in my head and it pops back up every once in awhile like one of those Facebook memory posts: as I drove off in the opposite direction in his blue 70s Dodge boat that lacked power steering, I saw him just walking away, his back to me. My tall grandpa (much taller than me) nonchalantly walking down that busy, two lane county road, cars approaching at 50 miles an hour, and him focused on the road ahead, head held high, not an ounce of self-consciousness apparent. He was just doing what needed to be done. Maybe I'm romanticizing him on this silly point, I don't know, but I wish I were more like him.

Thanks for sharing. I have similiar memories of my grandparents and if I started writing about them, I would be here all day. You bring up something that I've seen in my own life.

My mother's side of the family settled in central Indiana in 1828. My father's family settled in roughly the same area in 1853. Both were farming families. My parents were the first of their family not to go into farming, but I grew up visiting my grandparents on their farms. They weren't the farms of today. They were small farms with livestock, "truck patches" (gardens), fruit trees, old tractors and combines for crops, and.... outhouses (until the late 50s/early 60s, but we kids still liked to use them sometimes. lol).

After military service, I settled more-or-less in the same area. The kids I went to high school with had much the same family history.

But my daughter and her husband had no interest in staying around the same area. It really pains me that they won't have the same experiences I had, but I wanted my grandchildren to know their grandparents, which is why we moved to Charlotte. I really feel that those without a connection to the past have a greater chance to become directionless.

Having a sense of family and tradition is very important to me. And it's not like I started to feel that way as I got older. I've always felt very connected to the past. I realize not everyone is like that.

I had two wonderful sets of grandparents. My mother's parents were very church-oriented. My father's parents were interesting. His mother's father was a minister and helped start the Wheeler Mission in Indy. His father never met a swear word he didn't like, but he loved his grandkids. I have many memories, but the one that stands out to me is one when I was a Senior in HS and was staying at their house to finish school when my parents moved (not far, but in another school district). We had little money and my first car was a $100 Renault that I could never find parts for. The alternator wasn't working and I was driving back and forth to school on battery power. But, the Renault had a crank and you could start it with the crank. So, I went out in the morning to go to school and it wouldn't start. My grandfather asked me what I was going to do. I said I'm going to crank-start it. He crank-started his tractor, but he didn't believe I could crank-start this car. Well, I did! The last thing I remember driving out of his lane was him laughing. He told everyone about it and we laughed about it until he passed a few months later.

 

[NPT]

This is an interesting topic but I can't do it justice.
I grew up back in the sticks in Appalachia. There were 8 of us kids and I was 3rd from youngest. We got electricity to our house when I was around 6 years old.... wow hit the big time, Even though we were dirt poor we had a lot of good times as kids because our property joined what is now a national park so we had a big playground and we took advantage of it when we could by having grapevine swings, rolling rocks down the mountain, climbing trees, going hunting at night (more of an excuse to take bacon out in the woods and cook it over a fire ), etc. At Christmas we'd normally draw names and get one gift each. My parents always bought some hard candy and oranges for Christmas..that is the only time we ever got stuff like that. On the other hand we grew most of what we ate so we had good food.

We finally got a TV when I was in high school... I'm sure some remember when you had to adjust it to keep the picture steady and not rolling. Most people don't know what "running around like a chicken with it's head cut off" means but I do because mom would tell us to get a chicken and pluck so we'd go get one and stretch it's neck out on a stick of wood and then chop with a hatchet. They really do run around and flop around when you do that. Better get back or get blood on you.

I went to grade school in the 4 room school in the picture below. Always had to walk to school... 2.5 miles until I was 12 and then 1 mile from then on. The good thing is that 90% of the walk was on a railroad so it was level. Now here's a confession. Since we walked the railroad there would be train come by ever so often when we were walking on it so when we heard it coming we'd grab a bunch of rocks and wait. We'd let the engine go by and then the box cars were fair game... always watching for the caboose.

 

[mcmurtry66]

Another thread got me thinking about how different my life is from that of my father and grandfather, both of whom spent their whole lives in one place. They both lived their entire lives, minus military service, within a mile of where they were born, as did their fathers going back to the 1860s when my grandfather's grandfather (I think I got that right) moved to northern Indiana from Pennsylvania.

Each son's life and time is different than his father's, but I wonder what the effect of rapid technological change will be on this or has been? The difference between my son's life and my dad's growing up is quite enormous--my son has never know a life without smart phones, HD TV, amazing video games, On Demand TV, etc. Since 1st grade, his school has provided him with an iPad. Imagine at the pace of technological change, how the differences in upbringing is going to change as time goes on. Contrast that with a couple of hundred years ago, when each generation essentially lived the same life as the previous one.

How does all this affect how closely we are tied to our fathers and grandfathers and sons? Does it lead to a loss of identity—that derived from family, of this is who I am, I’m a [fill in your last name here]? Does that kind of lack of connection lead to increased mobility, thereby leading to more disconnectedness, less affection for the land and place of your birth and family? Is this a good thing—a method of decreasing tribalism? Or do we humans need tribalism of some sort, and so in lacking the familial or regional identity and tribe, do we look for it in the political? Regarding this last question, I guess you could poll people (if polling worked) and analyze the degree of political tribalness in those who also feel or don’t feel tribal about their homeland/region. It might be people have varying degrees of triableness as an attribute?

Outside the abstract level, I'd love to hear stories or anecdotes about other poster's fathers or grandfathers, how they came from a different time or had a different attitude, whatever. Here's one from me:

My grandparents watched me when I was little, pre-elementary school, during the day. I can still picture their family room with their black and white flecked “davenport” and grandpas claw footed, green tufted leather chair. He would sit in it, and I would sit in his lap, and he would hold me and I felt like I belonged. He smelled of barbershop aftershave and grease and sweat. He would sometimes smack his lips, trying to wet them, and when I saw him later in life, when it was less frequent and it wasn't cool to spend time with your grandparents, he would always stand up and say “Great Day! Look who’s here.” When he sneezed, he would exclaim “horseandbuggy” while he exploded into a handkerchief he carried in his pocket at all times. He wore his pants at his waste, and in later life when his belly protruded, he would wear leisure pants made out polyester that would cover that belly but were still cut in a dress pant style—I can’t recall him ever wearing jeans.

Once, when a teenager, I was late for tennis practice and the car didn’t work. It was during the day and mom and dad were gone and I must have been driving dad’s truck. Grandpa came down to the house and loaned me his car. But instead of driving him home, he insisted he’d walk the mile or two back and just had me drop him at the corner of my street and the county road that ran by his house, about two miles away. I have that image stuck in my head and it pops back up every once in awhile like one of those Facebook memory posts: as I drove off in the opposite direction in his blue 70s Dodge boat that lacked power steering, I saw him just walking away, his back to me. My tall grandpa (much taller than me) nonchalantly walking down that busy, two lane county road, cars approaching at 50 miles an hour, and him focused on the road ahead, head held high, not an ounce of self-consciousness apparent. He was just doing what needed to be done. Maybe I'm romanticizing him on this silly point, I don't know, but I wish I were more like him.

I'm not much like my father and grandfather - nor is my life. Grandfather was a product of the depression who suffered from polio. His one leg was as thin as a broomstick. In many ways Polio defined him. He became a commercial artist by trade; a profession that doesn't even exist today. He died when I was in high school. Never missed one of my games. He used to marvel at the kids being able to run like that. One of the greatest people I've ever know, and cheapest.

His son, my dad, was a shithead. Went to four different high schools - kept getting expelled for one thing after another. At 15 he bought a motorcycle and rode it to California. When he got back he talked about it nonstop. My grandparents told him that they'd take a big family trip to California in the next year or so. About 18 months later they loaded up the family wagon and off they went. Little did my dad know they had found an Indian Reservation out West that had agreed to take him. So on the way to their big trip out west, my pop got left at a reservation. My grandparents and his siblings turned around and went home.

A year later my dad went to Vietnam. He bought a TV repair shop with his buddy when he got home where they'd repair old tube TVs - another profession that doesn't really exist today. It didn't last long though. The phone number they gave prospective customers rang straight to the tavern next-door. When I turned 18 there was no question I had to move out. In my dad's eyes you turn 18 you're grown. That's it. Time to move out and fend for yourself. Both of these men would have been included on the list with Hillzhoosier, 76-1, Aloha, Ranger, Cray, Coh, Mark, NPT, Hoot....

Our parents are products of different times.

 

[mcmurtry66]

This is an interesting topic but I can't do it justice.
I grew up back in the sticks in Appalachia. There were 8 of us kids and I was 3rd from youngest. We got electricity to our house when I was around 6 years old.... wow hit the big time, Even though we were dirt poor we had a lot of good times as kids because our property joined what is now a national park so we had a big playground and we took advantage of it when we could by having grapevine swings, rolling rocks down the mountain, climbing trees, going hunting at night (more of an excuse to take bacon out in the woods and cook it over a fire ), etc. At Christmas we'd normally draw names and get one gift each. My parents always bought some hard candy and oranges for Christmas..that is the only time we ever got stuff like that. On the other hand we grew most of what we ate so we had good food.

We finally got a TV when I was in high school... I'm sure some remember when you had to adjust it to keep the picture steady and not rolling. Most people don't know what "running around like a chicken with it's head cut off" means but I do because mom would tell us to get a chicken and pluck so we'd go get one and stretch it's neck out on a stick of wood and then chop with a hatchet. They really do run around and flop around when you do that. Better get back or get blood on you.

I went to grade school in the 4 room school in the picture below. Always had to walk to school... 2.5 miles until I was 12 and then 1 mile from then on. The good thing is that 90% of the walk was on a railroad so it was level. Now here's a confession. Since we walked the railroad there would be train come by ever so often when we were walking on it so when we heard it coming we'd grab a bunch of rocks and wait. We'd let the engine go by and then the box cars were fair game... always watching for the caboose.

Amazing story!

 

[DANC]

I'm not much like my father and grandfather - nor is my life. Grandfather was a product of the depression who suffered from polio. His one leg was as thin as a broomstick. In many ways Polio defined him. He became a commercial artist by trade; a profession that doesn't even exist today. He died when I was in high school. Never missed one of my games. He used to marvel at the kids being able to run like that. One of the greatest people I've ever know, and cheapest.

His son, my dad, was a shithead. Went to four different high schools - kept getting expelled for one thing after another. At 15 he bought a motorcycle and rode it to California. When he got back he talked about it nonstop. My grandparents told him that they'd take a big family trip to California in the next year or so. About 18 months later they loaded up the family wagon and off they went. Little did my dad know they had found an Indian Reservation out West that had agreed to take him. So on the way to their big trip out west, my pop got left at a reservation. My grandparents and his siblings turned around and went home.

A year later my dad went to Vietnam. He bought a TV repair shop with his buddy when he got home where they'd repair old tube TVs - another profession that doesn't really exist today. It didn't last long though. The phone number they gave prospective customers rang straight to the tavern next-door. When I turned 18 there was no question I had to move out. In my dad's eyes you turn 18 you're grown. That's it. Time to move out and fend for yourself. Both of these men would have been included on the list with Hillzhoosier, 76-1, Aloha, Ranger, Cray, Coh, Mark....

Our parents are products of different times.

OK, you win. lol

 

[bawlmer]

Great stories, that make me think maybe our parents and grandparents had experiences our kids can't even imagine.

In my case, a family legend is my dad going with his Fairmount HS basketball teammates on the spur of the moment (without asking permission!) to see the Cubs play in the World Series. They caught a train after practice, bought general admission tickets and watched from the stairs to the upper deck. That kind of experience is just out of the question today.

On the other hand, my kids have been to most of the US states and Puerto Rico, and took a mission trip to Mexico. And they're in almost continuous communication with many of their cousins all over the US. The world is definitely a smaller place for them, even though their family is scattered.

 

[larsIU]

Great stories, that make me think maybe our parents and grandparents had experiences our kids can't even imagine.

In my case, a family legend is my dad going with his Fairmount HS basketball teammates on the spur of the moment (without asking permission!) to see the Cubs play in the World Series. They caught a train after practice, bought general admission tickets and watched from the stairs to the upper deck. That kind of experience is just out of the question today.

On the other hand, my kids have been to most of the US states and Puerto Rico, and took a mission trip to Mexico. And they're in almost continuous communication with many of their cousins all over the US. The world is definitely a smaller place for them, even though their family is scattered.

Kinda got me thinking about something I think about way too much. I'm re-listening to Dan Carlin's Blueprint for Armageddon and how the pace of change in the 30 or so years leading up to WW1 was incredible and must have been something to behold. Sure we have amazing tech coming out nearly every month but it feels....small. I don't think we'll ever experience something as mindblowing as seeing the first airplanes flying overhead or massive battleships coming out of the age of wooden wind powered ships. Maybe if we go to Mars or something. Or finally solve the cold fusion equation.

Many of our grandparents/parents witnessed some of this. Imagine being born in 1900 and dying in 1980 or later. The things you'd have seen.

 

[NPT]

I'm not much like my father and grandfather - nor is my life. Grandfather was a product of the depression who suffered from polio. His one leg was as thin as a broomstick. In many ways Polio defined him. He became a commercial artist by trade; a profession that doesn't even exist today. He died when I was in high school. Never missed one of my games. He used to marvel at the kids being able to run like that. One of the greatest people I've ever know, and cheapest.

His son, my dad, was a shithead. Went to four different high schools - kept getting expelled for one thing after another. At 15 he bought a motorcycle and rode it to California. When he got back he talked about it nonstop. My grandparents told him that they'd take a big family trip to California in the next year or so. About 18 months later they loaded up the family wagon and off they went. Little did my dad know they had found an Indian Reservation out West that had agreed to take him. So on the way to their big trip out west, my pop got left at a reservation. My grandparents and his siblings turned around and went home.

A year later my dad went to Vietnam. He bought a TV repair shop with his buddy when he got home where they'd repair old tube TVs - another profession that doesn't really exist today. It didn't last long though. The phone number they gave prospective customers rang straight to the tavern next-door. When I turned 18 there was no question I had to move out. In my dad's eyes you turn 18 you're grown. That's it. Time to move out and fend for yourself. Both of these men would have been included on the list with Hillzhoosier, 76-1, Aloha, Ranger, Cray, Coh, Mark, NPT, Hoot....

Our parents are products of different times.

Interesting...
My parents were not very well educated. I think my dad (disabled) went thru the 3rd grade and my mom went thru the 8th grade. My mom was detemined that all of us would get thru high school and all except the oldest did.

I tell our one and only child that she had more as a kid than all 8 of us put together. I worked many days in the 60s for 50 cents an hour... don't know what that translates into in todays dollars. But the bottom line is we did what we had to to get by. I do think the things you experience growing up influences how you look at things today.

 

[NPT]

Great stories, that make me think maybe our parents and grandparents had experiences our kids can't even imagine.

In my case, a family legend is my dad going with his Fairmount HS basketball teammates on the spur of the moment (without asking permission!) to see the Cubs play in the World Series. They caught a train after practice, bought general admission tickets and watched from the stairs to the upper deck. That kind of experience is just out of the question today.

On the other hand, my kids have been to most of the US states and Puerto Rico, and took a mission trip to Mexico. And they're in almost continuous communication with many of their cousins all over the US. The world is definitely a smaller place for them, even though their family is scattered.

Interesting... I don't think I was ever more than 40 miles away from home until I was 20 and like you our daughter has been all over the US, South Africa, Belize and Costa Rica.

 

[ORG]

Another thread got me thinking about how different my life is from that of my father and grandfather, both of whom spent their whole lives in one place. They both lived their entire lives, minus military service, within a mile of where they were born, as did their fathers going back to the 1860s when my grandfather's grandfather (I think I got that right) moved to northern Indiana from Pennsylvania.

Each son's life and time is different than his father's, but I wonder what the effect of rapid technological change will be on this or has been? The difference between my son's life and my dad's growing up is quite enormous--my son has never know a life without smart phones, HD TV, amazing video games, On Demand TV, etc. Since 1st grade, his school has provided him with an iPad. Imagine at the pace of technological change, how the differences in upbringing is going to change as time goes on. Contrast that with a couple of hundred years ago, when each generation essentially lived the same life as the previous one.

How does all this affect how closely we are tied to our fathers and grandfathers and sons? Does it lead to a loss of identity—that derived from family, of this is who I am, I’m a [fill in your last name here]? Does that kind of lack of connection lead to increased mobility, thereby leading to more disconnectedness, less affection for the land and place of your birth and family? Is this a good thing—a method of decreasing tribalism? Or do we humans need tribalism of some sort, and so in lacking the familial or regional identity and tribe, do we look for it in the political? Regarding this last question, I guess you could poll people (if polling worked) and analyze the degree of political tribalness in those who also feel or don’t feel tribal about their homeland/region. It might be people have varying degrees of triableness as an attribute?

Outside the abstract level, I'd love to hear stories or anecdotes about other poster's fathers or grandfathers, how they came from a different time or had a different attitude, whatever. Here's one from me:

My grandparents watched me when I was little, pre-elementary school, during the day. I can still picture their family room with their black and white flecked “davenport” and grandpas claw footed, green tufted leather chair. He would sit in it, and I would sit in his lap, and he would hold me and I felt like I belonged. He smelled of barbershop aftershave and grease and sweat. He would sometimes smack his lips, trying to wet them, and when I saw him later in life, when it was less frequent and it wasn't cool to spend time with your grandparents, he would always stand up and say “Great Day! Look who’s here.” When he sneezed, he would exclaim “horseandbuggy” while he exploded into a handkerchief he carried in his pocket at all times. He wore his pants at his waste, and in later life when his belly protruded, he would wear leisure pants made out polyester that would cover that belly but were still cut in a dress pant style—I can’t recall him ever wearing jeans.

Once, when a teenager, I was late for tennis practice and the car didn’t work. It was during the day and mom and dad were gone and I must have been driving dad’s truck. Grandpa came down to the house and loaned me his car. But instead of driving him home, he insisted he’d walk the mile or two back and just had me drop him at the corner of my street and the county road that ran by his house, about two miles away. I have that image stuck in my head and it pops back up every once in awhile like one of those Facebook memory posts: as I drove off in the opposite direction in his blue 70s Dodge boat that lacked power steering, I saw him just walking away, his back to me. My tall grandpa (much taller than me) nonchalantly walking down that busy, two lane county road, cars approaching at 50 miles an hour, and him focused on the road ahead, head held high, not an ounce of self-consciousness apparent. He was just doing what needed to be done. Maybe I'm romanticizing him on this silly point, I don't know, but I wish I were more like him.

I am not sure that "tribal political affiliations" is a wide spread concept. I think it does not exist for me.

 

[Crayfish57]

My maternal grandfather lived during the Wright Brothers' first flight and to see man walk on the moon. He was my best man at our wedding. My paternal grandfather was born during the Civil War and lived past WW II. I knew both of them and they knew me. This is just a glance at your topic applied to my grandfathers and I intend to write more. I've spent close to 50 years doing genealogy and have gotten a lot of information but still lack some detail I'm yet pursuing.

Impressive lineage! Are you related to John Tyler too? My mom does genealogy. Scares me sometimes.

 

[BCCHoosier]

I'm not much like my father and grandfather - nor is my life. Grandfather was a product of the depression who suffered from polio. His one leg was as thin as a broomstick. In many ways Polio defined him. He became a commercial artist by trade; a profession that doesn't even exist today. He died when I was in high school. Never missed one of my games. He used to marvel at the kids being able to run like that. One of the greatest people I've ever know, and cheapest.

His son, my dad, was a shithead. Went to four different high schools - kept getting expelled for one thing after another. At 15 he bought a motorcycle and rode it to California. When he got back he talked about it nonstop. My grandparents told him that they'd take a big family trip to California in the next year or so. About 18 months later they loaded up the family wagon and off they went. Little did my dad know they had found an Indian Reservation out West that had agreed to take him. So on the way to their big trip out west, my pop got left at a reservation. My grandparents and his siblings turned around and went home.

A year later my dad went to Vietnam. He bought a TV repair shop with his buddy when he got home where they'd repair old tube TVs - another profession that doesn't really exist today. It didn't last long though. The phone number they gave prospective customers rang straight to the tavern next-door. When I turned 18 there was no question I had to move out. In my dad's eyes you turn 18 you're grown. That's it. Time to move out and fend for yourself. Both of these men would have been included on the list with Hillzhoosier, 76-1, Aloha, Ranger, Cray, Coh, Mark, NPT, Hoot....

Our parents are products of different times.

Wow. If you get time today can you expand on the whole getting dropped off at the reservation? That warrants a little more context. Fascinating stories. I'll add mine later.

 

[TMFT]

I really struggle with this.

I grew up in a house where all 4 boys were in one room until we were able to add a room when I got into HS. My sister got a glorified closet, and my parents had their room. Other than camping or the odd weekend trip to St. Louis or Holiday World, I don't recall ever going on a vacation. We all had jobs from the moment we were allowed to and that was the majority of our running around money after we bought most of our own clothes & haircuts and what have you. No regrets though, my parents busted their butts to provide for us and we never wanted for any necessities.

Now my kids have everything they could want. My 9 yr old basically has a nicer room than I ever had in a whole apartment in college. They've been on Caribbean vacations, have traveled around the US, and have had far more elaborate birthday parties than I care to admit (point of disagreement between me and the Mrs.). I'm trying hard to "give my kids the things I never had" without crossing the "making them lazy" line. Character is built through adversity and it's damn hard to create that character. When I was 16, I'd have LOVED to have been one of the kids that didn't have to work, could focus on sports or any other interest. But I recognize that the struggle is how you get strong enough to succeed. Unless of your course your parents are REALLY rich/connected, then you can slide into those good on good ol' fashioned nepotism/favortism.

 

[TMFT]

Impressive lineage! Are you related to John Tyler too? My mom does genealogy. Scares me sometimes.

As of a couple years ago, President Tyler still had a couple living grandsons. A fairly unique set of circumstances for that to happen, but shows how young our country is that there could be someone who is alive who had a grandparent alive when Washington was president.

 

[Marvin the Martian]

My paternal grandfather and grandmother lived with my mom and dad. Grandma and grandpa were born to small dirt farmers in Arkansas. He moved to Indiana to drive mule teams carrying lumber out of Brown County. When that job existed, they lived in a rural area and my grandma contributed by raising a few animals and some crops. When that job dried up, she had no real skills to work. He took odd jobs, for example security guard a few hours a night at the local skating rink and at Mill Race Park. He would die of a heart attack 2 feet from my when I was 11, it was caused by a case of scarlet fever he had when he was young. So yep, I do worry that we don't know everything about what a modern virus can do to us.

My dad was spoiled. He was the oldest of two sons but his younger brother died young from some disease. So he was spoiled. He was a great athlete. Not only did he tell me, when I was in high school I ran into longtime Columbus basketball coach Bill Stearman. Coach Stearman told me my dad was the greatest baseball player to ever play in Columbus. Dad was offered minor league contracts, but took jobs that would pay him to play fast pitch softball.

I am 15 years younger than my next youngest sibling. Like Ray from Field of Dreams, my dad was tired and broken down by the time I knew him. My siblings know of a mean SoB dad, I know of a dad who was crazy with apethy. He came to two events of mine, one basketball game and my HS graduation. With my brothers he was mean, to make them tough. It may have worked with one, the other I have no idea as that is the brother with horrible ptsd from Vietnam. I know my other siblings think dad's treatment of him set the groundwork but I would have no idea.

Dad also was a pool shark. He didn't do anything he couldn't be the best at. I recall a trip to St Louis to watch the Reds-Cards. Dad had been a Cards fan, me a Reds fan. We were going to stay in a hotel, something we almost never did. We pulled into a bar, he told me to stay put and listen to the radio and took his cue in. A couple hours later he came out and told me we were going to stay in a nicer hotel. I don't know what we would have done if he lost everything, but I am sure that possibility never crossed his mind.

When I was at IU, "A King and His Court" came to Bloomington. Fast Eddie was close to my dad's age, he and his team of 3 other players would take on 9 players from the community. No one could hit Fast Eddie, he was legendary. I called dad and told him he needed to come over and see Fast Eddie pitch. He said "why would I do that. We beat him like a drum in the national championships. He was a bum".

Which goes to my experience. When I was very young he saw me throwing ball with friends. He never threw ball with me, but he did tell me I clearly didn't have what it took to be a baseball player. Later in high school he picked me up at a pool hall, I was playing for fun with friends. He saw me take one shot and told me I should never bother playing pool.

So until we had a bad wreck that killed my mom, he made good money as an engineer for Penn Central. But he had also to feed and house my grandparents and my mom who had some mental health issues and struggled to hold waitressing jobs. So the money didn't go as far as it could have, especially since he wasn't about to change his personal lifestyle. Our home was on first street in Columbus. One of my neighbors was the Welmer grandmother, I never met the Welmer boys but always felt a kinship watching Steve referee. Pretty much everything west of our house to the river was torn down for urban renewal when I was a kid. My house did have an indoor toiler (a lot of houses to our west that were torn down did not) but the room was added on and there was no room for a bathtub or anything. Our house would get torn down for the county jail after I left for college. It was a working poor neighborhood. My family used the N word as they would any other word, as did my neighbors. To be honest for a long time I wasn't even sure who these N word people were, but they were clearly the enemy. It was largely TV that taught me what the word was and that it was wrong.

And it was Robert Kennedy. In 1968 RFK made a stop in Columbus. He spoke two blocks from my house, my oldest brother wasn't living at home but made sure I planned to go. My dad didn't want me to go, but he didn't stop me. I rode my bike up and crawled along a fence to get really close (clearly no secret service in those days). Here was this guy saying things that didn't involve hate, didn't blame the Ns or others. He seemed to talk about hope and the future. I fell in love with those ideas. At that moment I knew all my neighbors and family that loved this Wallace guy were wrong. This Kennedy guy had the secret sauce.

My sister had a much later conversion. She is 18 years older than me. She hated the Clintons, she was sure that even though they were from Arkansas there was no way they would have met with grandma and grandpa's approval since, well, they were soft on race. So there was no way she could vote for them. I don't fight with friends or family over politics, so it was just left with an internal eye roll. Somehow that all changed with Obama, she had her conversion and loved Obama while conceding that she will have to explain that to the grandparents in her next life. Nowadays she loves her church but is sad that everyone else in her evangelical church loves Trump. They can't figure out why she doesn't.

So I know some of my politics is rebelling from my Opie Taylor youth. I did get one of the greatest pieces of wisdom from my grandfather. My dad once yelled at me for something, and with it my no good friends. It was very much a "your generation is going to destroy America" type of thing (dad hated most things new, oh, the best picture of him is Archie Bunker, I should be able to sue Norman Lear). After dad left, my grandfather came in and told me that my generation couldn't destroy America, my dad's generation had done that. They were all lazy, selfish, spent far too much time as kids listening to the radio and dancing to jazz, and playing sports instead of working. They were a rotten lot. My dad's generation is today called "the Greatest Generation". Whenever I want to complain about kids today, you know, go all CO Hoosier >) I think back to that. Generational rivalry is built into this system, every generation thinks the younger generation is worthless. Therefore the argument is totally invalid. Thanks grandpa.

 

[Crayfish57]

As of a couple years ago, President Tyler still had a couple living grandsons. A fairly unique set of circumstances for that to happen, but shows how young our country is that there could be someone who is alive who had a grandparent alive when Washington was president.

I think one or two are still alive. It is really crazy to think about it though. Also pertinent to Indiana as well . I would guess they don't get secret Service protection! I actually have an 1840 Harrison and Tyler campaign bandana from 1840 and a cup and saucer and just thinking how far back that is . Stretching verility about as far as you can over the years!

 

[mcmurtry66]

My paternal grandfather and grandmother lived with my mom and dad. Grandma and grandpa were born to small dirt farmers in Arkansas. He moved to Indiana to drive mule teams carrying lumber out of Brown County. When that job existed, they lived in a rural area and my grandma contributed by raising a few animals and some crops. When that job dried up, she had no real skills to work. He took odd jobs, for example security guard a few hours a night at the local skating rink and at Mill Race Park. He would die of a heart attack 2 feet from my when I was 11, it was caused by a case of scarlet fever he had when he was young. So yep, I do worry that we don't know everything about what a modern virus can do to us.

My dad was spoiled. He was the oldest of two sons but his younger brother died young from some disease. So he was spoiled. He was a great athlete. Not only did he tell me, when I was in high school I ran into longtime Columbus basketball coach Bill Stearman. Coach Stearman told me my dad was the greatest baseball player to ever play in Columbus. Dad was offered minor league contracts, but took jobs that would pay him to play fast pitch softball.

I am 15 years younger than my next youngest sibling. Like Ray from Field of Dreams, my dad was tired and broken down by the time I knew him. My siblings know of a mean SoB dad, I know of a dad who was crazy with apethy. He came to two events of mine, one basketball game and my HS graduation. With my brothers he was mean, to make them tough. It may have worked with one, the other I have no idea as that is the brother with horrible ptsd from Vietnam. I know my other siblings think dad's treatment of him set the groundwork but I would have no idea.

Dad also was a pool shark. He didn't do anything he couldn't be the best at. I recall a trip to St Louis to watch the Reds-Cards. Dad had been a Cards fan, me a Reds fan. We were going to stay in a hotel, something we almost never did. We pulled into a bar, he told me to stay put and listen to the radio and took his cue in. A couple hours later he came out and told me we were going to stay in a nicer hotel. I don't know what we would have done if he lost everything, but I am sure that possibility never crossed his mind.

When I was at IU, "A King and His Court" came to Bloomington. Fast Eddie was close to my dad's age, he and his team of 3 other players would take on 9 players from the community. No one could hit Fast Eddie, he was legendary. I called dad and told him he needed to come over and see Fast Eddie pitch. He said "why would I do that. We beat him like a drum in the national championships. He was a bum".

Which goes to my experience. When I was very young he saw me throwing ball with friends. He never threw ball with me, but he did tell me I clearly didn't have what it took to be a baseball player. Later in high school he picked me up at a pool hall, I was playing for fun with friends. He saw me take one shot and told me I should never bother playing pool.

So until we had a bad wreck that killed my mom, he made good money as an engineer for Penn Central. But he had also to feed and house my grandparents and my mom who had some mental health issues and struggled to hold waitressing jobs. So the money didn't go as far as it could have, especially since he wasn't about to change his personal lifestyle. Our home was on first street in Columbus. One of my neighbors was the Welmer grandmother, I never met the Welmer boys but always felt a kinship watching Steve referee. Pretty much everything west of our house to the river was torn down for urban renewal when I was a kid. My house did have an indoor toiler (a lot of houses to our west that were torn down did not) but the room was added on and there was no room for a bathtub or anything. Our house would get torn down for the county jail after I left for college. It was a working poor neighborhood. My family used the N word as they would any other word, as did my neighbors. To be honest for a long time I wasn't even sure who these N word people were, but they were clearly the enemy. It was largely TV that taught me what the word was and that it was wrong.

And it was Robert Kennedy. In 1968 RFK made a stop in Columbus. He spoke two blocks from my house, my oldest brother wasn't living at home but made sure I planned to go. My dad didn't want me to go, but he didn't stop me. I rode my bike up and crawled along a fence to get really close (clearly no secret service in those days). Here was this guy saying things that didn't involve hate, didn't blame the Ns or others. He seemed to talk about hope and the future. I fell in love with those ideas. At that moment I knew all my neighbors and family that loved this Wallace guy were wrong. This Kennedy guy had the secret sauce.

My sister had a much later conversion. She is 18 years older than me. She hated the Clintons, she was sure that even though they were from Arkansas there was no way they would have met with grandma and grandpa's approval since, well, they were soft on race. So there was no way she could vote for them. I don't fight with friends or family over politics, so it was just left with an internal eye roll. Somehow that all changed with Obama, she had her conversion and loved Obama while conceding that she will have to explain that to the grandparents in her next life. Nowadays she loves her church but is sad that everyone else in her evangelical church loves Trump. They can't figure out why she doesn't.

So I know some of my politics is rebelling from my Opie Taylor youth. I did get one of the greatest pieces of wisdom from my grandfather. My dad once yelled at me for something, and with it my no good friends. It was very much a "your generation is going to destroy America" type of thing (dad hated most things new, oh, the best picture of him is Archie Bunker, I should be able to sue Norman Lear). After dad left, my grandfather came in and told me that my generation couldn't destroy America, my dad's generation had done that. They were all lazy, selfish, spent far too much time as kids listening to the radio and dancing to jazz, and playing sports instead of working. They were a rotten lot. My dad's generation is today called "the Greatest Generation". Whenever I want to complain about kids today, you know, go all CO Hoosier >) I think back to that. Generational rivalry is built into this system, every generation thinks the younger generation is worthless. Therefore the argument is totally invalid. Thanks grandpa.

I'd read a book about your dad. I'd tap Pat Conroy to pen it

 

[TMFT]

Feel like we should all donate a few bucks to the forum for today's therapy session.

I haven't sat and thought about my grand-dad in a while and this has been pretty nice.

 

[Crayfish57]

Interesting thread and good reading. My grandpa on moms side built his own sawmill from RR tracks and a metal lathe. He and grandma used to haul logs with a trailer behind an old Buick before WWII . Used to meet people that knew him. I grew up 100 miles away , someone that remembered growing up in a rental house he had that remembered living for months free when they couldnt pay rent. Then I have the other side of worthless people who were country preachers living off other people. Never figured out how I came to be.

 

[mcmurtry66]

Wow. If you get time today can you expand on the whole getting dropped off at the reservation? That warrants a little more context. Fascinating stories. I'll add mine later.

It was just some "camp" they found for bad kids that they duped him into. There was also talk that he had a fake ID or some shit and went to Vietnam at 17. He talks about Vietnam with the same fondness I talk about my college days, which were glorious. He was just always a character.

About ten years ago I got a call at work from someone claiming to be my sister. Turns out she was, and had a twin. She related a story that certainly would have pinned my dad. I talked to her for about 15 minutes, shared what little I knew, and that was it. Haven't talked to her since. I think she thought it was going to be some big breakthrough and a "new" family.... She was probably 30. I already had all the people I wanted in my life. No new people. I'm probably an asshole.

 

[Marvin the Martian]

I'd read a book about your dad. I'd tap Pat Conroy to pen it

For my older siblings that sounds like a great comparison. For me, it was Archie. Life had beaten him down.

 

[Crayfish57]

It was just some "camp" they found for bad kids that they duped him into. There was also talk that he had a fake ID or some shit and went to Vietnam at 17. He talks about Vietnam with the same fondness I talk about my college days, which were glorious. He was just always a character.

About ten years ago I got a call at work from someone claiming to be my sister. Turns out she was, and had a twin. She related a story that certainly would have pinned my dad. I talked to her for about 15 minutes, shared what little I knew, and that was it. Haven't talked to her since. I think she thought it was going to be some big breakthrough and a "new" family.... She was probably 30. I already had all the people I wanted in my life. No new people. I'm probably an asshole.

Not probably! LOL I am a self proclaimed one. Seriously, Im a huge just because you are related, I dont care if I dont like you. There are so many preachers on my one side and so many crazy stories . I could care less about them. To me there is nothing more worthless than preachers and missionaries living off other people while telling people how to live. More times than not their own lives arent something to brag on. The other side they were lined up for hours at the viewing of my grandpa because he lived a good life helping people and not telling others how to.

 

[mcmurtry66]

For my older siblings that sounds like a great comparison. For me, it was Archie. Life had beaten him down.

Got it! I'd love to know where he was playing pool in Stl

 

[NPT]

I really struggle with this.

I grew up in a house where all 4 boys were in one room until we were able to add a room when I got into HS. My sister got a glorified closet, and my parents had their room. Other than camping or the odd weekend trip to St. Louis or Holiday World, I don't recall ever going on a vacation. We all had jobs from the moment we were allowed to and that was the majority of our running around money after we bought most of our own clothes & haircuts and what have you. No regrets though, my parents busted their butts to provide for us and we never wanted for any necessities.

Now my kids have everything they could want. My 9 yr old basically has a nicer room than I ever had in a whole apartment in college. They've been on Caribbean vacations, have traveled around the US, and have had far more elaborate birthday parties than I care to admit (point of disagreement between me and the Mrs.). I'm trying hard to "give my kids the things I never had" without crossing the "making them lazy" line. Character is built through adversity and it's damn hard to create that character. When I was 16, I'd have LOVED to have been one of the kids that didn't have to work, could focus on sports or any other interest. But I recognize that the struggle is how you get strong enough to succeed. Unless of your course your parents are REALLY rich/connected, then you can slide into those good on good ol' fashioned nepotism/favortism.

Interesting talk about your house because I grew up sort of the same way. We had a little 4 room house with a Warm Morning heating stove in the family room and a wood cookstove in the kitchen plus 2 bedrooms. I can't remember any details from that far back but there was 5 girls and 3 boys in our family and if you figure by age (my oldest sibling was 15 years older than I was and she's told me she left home at 18) there had to be mom, dad, and at least 6 of us kids (maybe 7) in the house. One detail I do remember is when we finally got electricity we eventually got a refrigerator but the kitchen was just too small to put it in there so they cut a home in the wall between the kitchen and one of the bedrooms and put most of the frig in the bedroom so all you saw in the kitchen was the front of it. This is definitely a guess but if I remember correctly the house was 24 ft by 28ft plus a front and back porch. At one time you could see the chickens that we had thru the floor but eventually we got strips of wood and covered all the cracks. Our well was a hand dug well... 20 some feet deep .... I cannot imagine going out here and start digging just hoping that I'd hit water.

 

[mcmurtry66]

Interesting talk about your house because I grew up sort of the same way. We had a little 4 room house with a Warm Morning heating stove in the family room and a wood cookstove in the kitchen plus 2 bedrooms. I can't remember any details from that far back but there was 5 girls and 3 boys in our family and if you figure by age (my oldest sibling was 15 years older than I was and she's told me she left home at 18) there had to be mom, dad, and at least 6 of us kids (maybe 7) in the house. One detail I do remember is when we finally got electricity we eventually got a refrigerator but the kitchen was just too small to put it in there so they cut a home in the wall between the kitchen and one of the bedrooms and put most of the frig in the bedroom so all you saw in the kitchen was the front of it. This is definitely a guess but if I remember correctly the house was 24 ft by 28ft plus a front and back porch. At one time you could see the chickens that we had thru the floor but eventually we got strips of wood and covered all the cracks. Our well was a hand dug well... 20 some feet deep .... I cannot imagine going out here and start digging just hoping that I'd hit water.

How old are you NPT?

 

[NPT]

How old are you NPT?

Older than dirt ..... 73

 

[mcmurtry66]

Older than dirt ..... 73

Hell you're too young to be President

 

[Crayfish57]

Interesting talk about your house because I grew up sort of the same way. We had a little 4 room house with a Warm Morning heating stove in the family room and a wood cookstove in the kitchen plus 2 bedrooms. I can't remember any details from that far back but there was 5 girls and 3 boys in our family and if you figure by age (my oldest sibling was 15 years older than I was and she's told me she left home at 18) there had to be mom, dad, and at least 6 of us kids (maybe 7) in the house. One detail I do remember is when we finally got electricity we eventually got a refrigerator but the kitchen was just too small to put it in there so they cut a home in the wall between the kitchen and one of the bedrooms and put most of the frig in the bedroom so all you saw in the kitchen was the front of it. This is definitely a guess but if I remember correctly the house was 24 ft by 28ft plus a front and back porch. At one time you could see the chickens that we had thru the floor but eventually we got strips of wood and covered all the cracks. Our well was a hand dug well... 20 some feet deep .... I cannot imagine going out here and start digging just hoping that I'd hit water.

My stories pale, I grew up with snow blowing through cracks in an 1835 log cabin. Somewhat more parents decision Mother earth news. I had to buy my first mattress vs feather and strawticks from auctions. I cant imagine the well I am down 100 ft and used to fight an old one . Id fix it myself for years and finally when got a new one they couldnt believe I kept it going. We are going to have a whole generation with no way to take care of themselves

 

[NPT]

My stories pale, I grew up with snow blowing through cracks in an 1835 log cabin. Somewhat more parents decision Mother earth news. I had to buy my first mattress vs feather and strawticks from auctions. I cant imagine the well I am down 100 ft and used to fight an old one . Id fix it myself for years and finally when got a new one they couldnt believe I kept it going. We are going to have a whole generation with no way to take care of themselves

Interesting.... we slept on feather beds also.... I thought they were comfortable. Our bedrooms got really cold at night because nobody got up thru the night to add coal to the Warm Morning heater. Our well was only 20 some feet deep.... darn lucky unless my dad knew something that I don't know now. But we had a good view.... that picture was taken in 1954 just after we got electricity... you can see the poles.

 

[TMFT]

My stories pale, I grew up with snow blowing through cracks in an 1835 log cabin. Somewhat more parents decision Mother earth news. I had to buy my first mattress vs feather and strawticks from auctions. I cant imagine the well I am down 100 ft and used to fight an old one . Id fix it myself for years and finally when got a new one they couldnt believe I kept it going. We are going to have a whole generation with no way to take care of themselves

I'm usually on the side of we're too hard on "kids these days," but I have to agree with you to a large extent.

Looking at all of the luxury apartments on college campuses now astounds me. Kids have nicer apartments than the average person has homes. They're really insane. I always figured part of the learning process of college was getting an education while living a pretty poor lifestyle. The standard of living some of these kids are going to be accustomed to just will not be able to be afforded by any but the most successful out of the chute. If there's anything I've learned in life, it's a lot easier for standard of living to go up vs. down. For me, it was having high speed internet in college. There was no going back to 56k after that. I can't imagine having to learn to get by on a starting salary after living in the lap of luxury when I was 20.

 

[NPT]

I never knew my grandparents that well. One of them died 4 days after my oldest sibling was born. My paternal grandpa farmed, worked in coal mines, etc and never treated us any different than any other kid. He was a penny pincher if there ever was one.

On edit: An interesting tidbit .....I was looking at census records last night and noticed on the 1940 census they asked for income the previous year. My dad had answered $250.

 

[Crayfish57]

I'm usually on the side of we're too hard on "kids these days," but I have to agree with you to a large extent.

Looking at all of the luxury apartments on college campuses now astounds me. Kids have nicer apartments than the average person has homes. They're really insane. I always figured part of the learning process of college was getting an education while living a pretty poor lifestyle. The standard of living some of these kids are going to be accustomed to just will not be able to be afforded by any but the most successful out of the chute. If there's anything I've learned in life, it's a lot easier for standard of living to go up vs. down. For me, it was having high speed internet in college. There was no going back to 56k after that. I can't imagine having to learn to get by on a starting salary after living in the lap of luxury when I was 20.

Being cold in the morning a few times is good! I'm not typical anything but tight living in an old house where heat is lost quickly. As long as the water doesnt freeze overnight , get up and get the fire going and warm it up! Too easy for sure not even saying and all generations but today for sure . I'm really old 54 posting this arent I?

 

[CO. Hoosier]

Another thread got me thinking about how different my life is from that of my father and grandfather, both of whom spent their whole lives in one place. They both lived their entire lives, minus military service, within a mile of where they were born, as did their fathers going back to the 1860s when my grandfather's grandfather (I think I got that right) moved to northern Indiana from Pennsylvania.

Each son's life and time is different than his father's, but I wonder what the effect of rapid technological change will be on this or has been? The difference between my son's life and my dad's growing up is quite enormous--my son has never know a life without smart phones, HD TV, amazing video games, On Demand TV, etc. Since 1st grade, his school has provided him with an iPad. Imagine at the pace of technological change, how the differences in upbringing is going to change as time goes on. Contrast that with a couple of hundred years ago, when each generation essentially lived the same life as the previous one.

How does all this affect how closely we are tied to our fathers and grandfathers and sons? Does it lead to a loss of identity—that derived from family, of this is who I am, I’m a [fill in your last name here]? Does that kind of lack of connection lead to increased mobility, thereby leading to more disconnectedness, less affection for the land and place of your birth and family? Is this a good thing—a method of decreasing tribalism? Or do we humans need tribalism of some sort, and so in lacking the familial or regional identity and tribe, do we look for it in the political? Regarding this last question, I guess you could poll people (if polling worked) and analyze the degree of political tribalness in those who also feel or don’t feel tribal about their homeland/region. It might be people have varying degrees of triableness as an attribute?

Outside the abstract level, I'd love to hear stories or anecdotes about other poster's fathers or grandfathers, how they came from a different time or had a different attitude, whatever. Here's one from me:

My grandparents watched me when I was little, pre-elementary school, during the day. I can still picture their family room with their black and white flecked “davenport” and grandpas claw footed, green tufted leather chair. He would sit in it, and I would sit in his lap, and he would hold me and I felt like I belonged. He smelled of barbershop aftershave and grease and sweat. He would sometimes smack his lips, trying to wet them, and when I saw him later in life, when it was less frequent and it wasn't cool to spend time with your grandparents, he would always stand up and say “Great Day! Look who’s here.” When he sneezed, he would exclaim “horseandbuggy” while he exploded into a handkerchief he carried in his pocket at all times. He wore his pants at his waste, and in later life when his belly protruded, he would wear leisure pants made out polyester that would cover that belly but were still cut in a dress pant style—I can’t recall him ever wearing jeans.

Once, when a teenager, I was late for tennis practice and the car didn’t work. It was during the day and mom and dad were gone and I must have been driving dad’s truck. Grandpa came down to the house and loaned me his car. But instead of driving him home, he insisted he’d walk the mile or two back and just had me drop him at the corner of my street and the county road that ran by his house, about two miles away. I have that image stuck in my head and it pops back up every once in awhile like one of those Facebook memory posts: as I drove off in the opposite direction in his blue 70s Dodge boat that lacked power steering, I saw him just walking away, his back to me. My tall grandpa (much taller than me) nonchalantly walking down that busy, two lane county road, cars approaching at 50 miles an hour, and him focused on the road ahead, head held high, not an ounce of self-consciousness apparent. He was just doing what needed to be done. Maybe I'm romanticizing him on this silly point, I don't know, but I wish I were more like him.

Baseball and steel is dad’s story.

Never knew my grandparents real well. My paternal grandmother was a German frau who didn’t like any of the people her kids married. So not a lot of contact there. My maternal grandfather died the year I was born. Grandma could hardly speak English. Mom and.her sister and brother always talked Serbian with her. I was around her a lot but was never close. One tidbit. My aunt did the research and claimed that we are related to Nikola Tesla. Could be. There is a fair amount of circumstantial evidence.

Except for the benefits of technological and some economic progress, the life style I’m ending with was pretty much the life style I grew up with.

Baseball. Dad played semi-pro in Chicago. That was a big part of his life. He mentioned the time he played against Satchel Paige back in the barnstorming days. Claimed he got a foul tip. Mom and dad met at a baseball game. Blind date. Mom spent the game watching and cheering for the wrong player. She met dad for the first time after the game. Dad was a bat discipline guy, Nellie Fox was his favorite player. He won a contest put on by a White Sox broadcast sponsor for writing an essay about what baseball means to life.

Steel. Dad was in his early 30’s when war broke out so he would have had a non-combat role if he enlisted. Worked at Gary Works and was asked to stay in management. He help produce Marston Mats. After the war went to Southern California to change jobs. Found something, but mom refused to move. Took early retirement from U.S. Steel at age 55 and did some different things after that.

He was always involved in community affairs and was instrumental in building a couple of libraries, schools and managing and upgrading parks. His name is on a couple of bronze plaques. As we became adults, my school buddies would come by my parents’ house and we down some beer with dad. Always Heileman Special Export. When dad died, many from that group came by to pay respects, including one from Tennessee. The night before the funeral we sat around and with beers and my friends would tell stories about dad I didn’t know or didn’t remember. Did I mention he was a Republican?

My stoker frequently reminds me that she and I were not a sure thing until she met dad.

Another tidbit. I did pretty well in law school and was fortunate enough to receive a couple of special recognitions at commencement. I was always pleased that mom and dad saw that. Years after dad died I was reminiscing with my sister how glad I was that mom and dad saw law school commencement, thinking that was the highlight as far as their son was concerned. Sis straightened me out. She reported that dad was the most impressed that I finished a large part of the basement in the house where we raised the kids by myself, including the electrical and much of the plumbing.

Mom was a stay at home until we were older. Once a week or so she would bake bread. If you haven’t come home from school with the odor of fresh baked bread in the house, you are missing a lot. Dad smoked a cigar most Sundays. To this day, if I smell a cigar, my mind snaps back to dad.

A final thought. I wish I knew more about my parents‘ youth. When I was young I of course was too wrapped up in my own affairs to care about that. For those of you whose parents are still alive, take the time to learn about what growing up was like for them. Nice memories to have.