A Tribute to my Grandfather

After a one week hiatus for a site redesign and a server move, MoneyGrubbingLawyer is back online! Thanks to everyone for their patience, and a special thanks to those who wrote me wondering what was on the go. If you notice anything acting screwy or not working, please let me know- I’m sure there are still a few bugs to work out.

Unfortunately, my blogging break wasn’t just due to site maintenance and upgrades- my dear grandfather died last week at the age of 86, taking me away from my screen to spend time with family for a while.

I’ve been reflecting quite a bit lately on his life and the impact that he had on mine. He was born in 1922 in St. John’s, Newfoundland, the son of Scottish immigrants. He came of age during the Great Depression, and was 12 years old when his nation, the Dominion of Newfoundland, went bankrupt and lost democratic self-rule. When he was 17, war broke out in Europe, although he didn’t join the forces- as he would later say, when everybody else was joining the King’s army, he joined the Salvation Army and chose to stay home and fight for the ladies instead. In 1948, when he was 26, the Dominion of Newfoundland voted to join Canada and voluntarily gave up its independence. To say he lived in interesting times would be a monumental understatement.

He fathered four children and built a house as part of a housing co-operative in what was then a far reaching suburb of St. John’s, although it is now very much in the center of the city. He lived for over 50 years in that house, and my grandmother still calls it home. Some of my earliest memories involve swimming in the above-ground pool in his backyard, or jumping on the poor man’s foot when he was trying to watch The Price is Right in peace (hey, I was no angel!). He taught me to play cards with Machiavellian strategies. I can also recall with a certain squeamishness watching him eat cooked rabbit heads- yes, rabbit heads- and delighting in the disgust this engendered in his grandchildren. It really is a wonder that I’m not a vegetarian.

My grandfather- poppy, as he was known to us- worked with the Canadian National Railway (and the Newfoundland Railway, before it was taken over) for 49 years. He started working there right after he finished high school and continued until he retired at the age of 65. In his final years, he was #1 on the seniority list for all of CNR. The concept of 48 years with one company is one that boggles my mind, and I expect we will rarely see such examples of long term service again. He worked hard, but came to enjoy the fruits of his labour in later years when he would regularly escape from the harsh winters of St. John’s to Florida, California, and Hawaii. One of my favourite pictures shows him in later years standing with a hula girl in Waikiki. It was a well deserved rest for a man who had worked hard his entire life.

He will be missed.

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