Grandma O'Grady's Frying Kettle

  My parents were collectors extraordinaire and at one time maintained two homes (Connecticut and Washington, D.C.). After their death, the task fell to us of sorting out a multitude of "stuff". (see my previous "You Don't Know What You've Got" post). Dumpsters of stuff begat boxes which begat green plastic bags filled with more stuff. Hundreds of pounds of things sold at multiple tag sales, left behind, gifted to Goodwill or simply given away. How then, did my Grandma O'Grady's fry kettle survive the purging? My mother never used it. Ever. The last time this baby saw hot oil was at least 1976. I pulled it out today, cleaned it and filled her up with canola oil to make rutabaga fries. I am strangely grateful that I kept it. Although deep frying has been out of vogue for many years there is not one thing in this world that does not taste better when fried. The aluminum pot is well made and hand forged. The stamp on the bottom says "DuraWare" and made in New York. There is a heavy steel basket to immerse the food and a hook on the side for draining the basket - just like McDonald's. I wonder when she bought it and all of the meals it has made. The boys loved having a fried side dish and are begging me to make homemade french fries. I think I will.

"You Don't Know What You've Got"

Short post today, folks. Today is a somber day in history marking the 7th anniversary of the 9/11 terrorist attacks. My father was born on Pearl Harbor Day, December 7, 1929 and died on September 11, 1998. He served and fought in Korea only to return home in 1954. Until the day he died, he had recurring throat pain and nightmares from an infantry battle in Korea. He never spoke of it to us, but my mother shared that his nightmare was always the same - he was hanging on a cliff being shot at by the enemy. Recent research on my part indicates that he was probably involved in the Battle of Heartbreak Ridge (or Pork Chop Hill) in late 1951. I miss him. He had a quick wit and a wicked sense of humor. A part of Lou died when my mother died and he was never the same person again. Although we didn't always see eye to eye I always knew that he loved me. He was a very smart, rising from an impoverished childhood with only a Brooklyn public high school education and survived the rough and tumble of Wall Street. He retired as the Director of Operations for Ferris, Baker, Watts in Washington, D.C. Looking back I have a tremendous sense of gratitude for a man who welcomed two orphan daughters into his family, raised us as his own, and always provided for us. In his later years, his love of antiques and tag sales continued to grow. He acquired collections at breakneck speed - ivory monkeys, Remington bronze sculptures, binoculars and leather saddles. When Lisa or I would question his latest acquisition he would invariably reply "It's a conversation piece sweetie" or our favorite "Honey - You Don't Know What You've Got". He was right. The Remington bronze "Mountain Man" sculpture in this picture he bought at an estate sale auction in Westchester County. He said to Mark (we were newlyweds) "Balducci (his nickname for Mark), carry this to the car." It now stands in my foyer. Like my Dad, the Mountain Man is a loner, carefully making his way down the rocky slope on his horse. And I'm still pulling copiously wrapped monkey statues out of boxes in the basement and they always make me smile.

All That Remains

 

I keep finding treasures. Came across this picture of Elizabeth Schmitt-Schwalbach and 4 of her children while looking for some unrelated paperwork. The only one missing is my Aunt Florence. My Mom and Dad are on the right. This picture must have been circa 1950 or so, before my parents were married and my father was sent to Korea in 1951. My grandmother was a good looking and smart lady. My godfather, Uncle Gene is in the foreground. He is now 75 years old and still going strong. My father is the only deceased sibling. His older sister Margie (behind my Grandma) is almost 87 years old and about to celebrate her 62nd wedding anniversary with her 90 year old husband. They sure don't make them like they used to. div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'>

The Schwalbachs Rise Again

We travelled back to where it all began today - Long Island! Lisa, me, and our collective five children. Lili brought some some snacks and we took to the road around 9:45 a.m. on a beautiful spring day in the Sequoia (nicknamed "Abomindable") . Our gas guzzler ate up around $80.00 of Saudi Arabian crude oil and then we put the navigation on and headed south. A good ride, despite the fact that the DVD player would not work b/c of a dead battery in the remote control. We arrived at 12:45 pm - only 1 hour and 15 minutes late. I'ld try and blame it on Lisa who Mom always said would be late to her own funeral - but it was a 3 hour ride and we didn't really leave until 10:00 a.m. A bit of a late start and a scattering of trouble once we got to Babylon but we eventually pulled up on Anderson Avenue to see Uncle Gene on the lawn waving to us!! Lisa had not seen Uncle Gene in 5 years and I saw him last at Aunt Pat's funeral in October. It was great to see him up North again and in good spirits. Ann G. is absolutely lovely and they seem happy to be together. Ann has 5 grandsons and so had a full crate of toy trucks ready for the boys. Her fenced yard was a perfect remedy for 3.5 hours in the car and all the kids ran around like nuts. Uncle Gene and Andrew had a catch in the backyard and then we all had some amazing New York pizza and salads. As if on queue, the faint sounds of a calliope in the distance and then Lili yelled "the ice cream man" and we all went out to the street. God bless Long Island. The ice cream truck had Dora pops, toasted almonds, and rocket pops to go around. Everyone had a wonderful visit and we sang Happy Birthday to Uncle Gene before heading out again to visit my biological Granny and Auntie just down the street. I am still amazed at the intersections in the lives of my biological and adoptive families. The dearest friends of my godparents live within spitting distance of my biological grandmother and aunt. And have for at least 20 years. Amazing stuff.

Marianne, Kate, Zach and Gram were waiting for our arrival with Italian cookies, an immaculate house and plenty of water bottles. Kate, Andrew and David immediately took off while Claire, Willie and Katie trailed after them. Their beautiful home was enjoyed and we all had a nice chat. They graciously packed up the Italian cookies, Jordan Almonds and extra water bottles. Thank goodness they did. We ended up in traffic on the Southern State Parkway at rush hour, a Yankees/Red Sox game traffic and 5 exhausted and tired kids. We sang songs, passed water bottles around and eventually arrived home at 9:10 p.m. A good time was had by all.