Yesterday, I introduced you to stories from the childhood of my grandmother and her siblings, my great aunts and uncles. For today, I threatened promised stories of the parents, my great grandmother and great grandfather. I am making good on that threat promise, so here we go. First up is a story of how my family history is similar to the Trump family in one special way.
Fred Trump Sr, Donald Trump, and my Great Grandpa. All draft dodgers. So proud. I really can’t blame Great Grandpa. He was from Germany, not a very peace-loving country at the time, and didn’t have a mean streak in him, except when it came to dogs.
My Great Grandpa brought his sheep shearing skills to the USA, and he used them on my great uncles.
He definitely wasn’t a barber, so how did he earn enough cash to feed 12 mouths in the house?
My Great Grandma was worried about him? It was the dang horse that was falling. Whether or not he fell, the years took their toll on him.
Sounds like he was a maple tree being tapped for syrup. My Great Grandma didn’t fare much better.
What a cute couple with a tapped abdomen and oozing leg between them. I wonder what Great Grandma did about that leg when they went to the … Oscar Meyer beach???
That was nice of my Great Grandma to take her hot dog kids to the beach and take time away from her favorite activities.
The suggestion to my wife that she be more like my Great Grandma was not well received.
And that concludes my family history on my maternal grandmother’s side. I truly hope none of this is hereditary.
Jim Flanigan Looks at the World 