Old Friends and Memories

I heard that an old friend had some things close to his heart stolen.  These were items that were cherished, and because they had belonged to love ones now gone added to the value of the loss.  If we are lucky we can conjure up images of happy days with loved ones now gone.  I will try to trace my steps through my grandparents home.

I remember going to the 5:00 pm Christmas service at Saint Andrews Church on the corner of Leigh Street and Graydon Avenue.  After this Christmas Eve pageant, I would walk to my maternal grandparents home at 931 Graydon Ave.  I walked up the steps to the wide front porch opening the front door to candle light and Christmas tree lights.  My grandmother, Nana would be there with open arms to greet me.  She always gave me a kiss.  Her kisses were some what wet because of her false teeth.  I remember wiping my cheek.  What I would give now for one more hug and one of those wet kisses.  The rest of the family was gathered there ready for eggnog and Christmas Eve dinner.  After dinner the table was spread with home made cookies, fruit cake, and crystallized grapefruit and orange rinds, some of which were dipped in chocolate.  The neighbors were invited to drop by for eggnog and desert.  I particularly remember Betsy and Boo Martin coming by.  Boo and I were excited about what we would get for Christmas.

When I shut my eyes and remember I still can feel the warm of the family.  I try retracing my steps mentally and somehow it works.

Things are tangible items that possibly spark memories, but are not necessary to those memories.

My Remarkable Father

Recently I found some papers that my mother put aside.  There were clippings from the news paper about my dad and his Art Gallery, Auslew.  So I decided that I needed to write about my dad, Donald Sykes Lewis Sr.  It is easier to write about something or someone who you are not attached to.  How do you get a handle on writing about someone who means so much to you.

Dad was tall with green eyes and wavy dark hair.  He was very handsome and mother and dad made a beautiful couple.  Dad originally was in the army, he worked as a mechanic until after being tested he was transferred to intelligence service working in the states during WWII to test the security of the military bases on the east coast.  After the war he had his own business machine business in association with his father, Walter Judd Lewis.  Dad had attended Carnegie Tech when he lived in Pittsburgh PA although he never graduated.  He always wanted to be an artist and he loved art.  I remember that both Dad and Mother took portrait painting lessons when I was a small child.  They had a studio in the attic of my grandparents home.

Dad's love of art led him to buy up paintings from antique shops and store these in the same attic. I remember sitting around the dining table and my grandmother worrying about how many paintings were up there in the attic.  That is when the discussion of opening an art gallery began.  They said that they did not know if an art gallery would make it in Norfolk, VA.  Richmond was able to support a gallery, but Norfolk?
Dad nevertheless decided to give it a try.  I was in 3rd grade,when Dad opened Auslew Gallery with a friend combining their two names Austin and Lewis. Earl Austin barely lasted a year in the business, but gave us the awesome name, Auslew. That summer mother my brother, Don jr., and myself sat at the Gallery while Dad managed to run two businesses.  It was not long before it was evident that the Gallery would succeed.  He found a better location still on Colley, but closer to where we lived in  Ghent.
The portrait painter, Ted Tevis, set up his studio in the Gallery. Dad proved himself to be a very good business man.  He cleaned and framed the paintings which he had found.  He also did framing for customers and eventually did restoration as well. He also found time to start painting.

One weekend he brought home paints and primed boards and had the family all paint.  He actually had put in the background and we all found something using photos from the National Geographic to paint by.  I remembered doing a Greek fishing boat on sand.  I forget what mother and my brother painted,but we had fun painting together and learning from Dad.

Dad took seriously the idea of teaching us.  He passed on a lot of wisdom concerning life.  He wanted always to make sure that his family was well taken care of. Knowing that he could not always be there for us he imparted as much of his wise ways as possible. I remember being newly married and having Dad call me to reinforce ideas on handling finances and other important issues in life.  How I have missed not being able to ask his advice.

Some how even after he has gone I have felt that he was taking care of us.  He had purchased 15 North Main Street building, before his death thinking that this would give me a way of making a living.  Some how he managed even after his death to have each of my sons get their feet on the ground a succeed.  Family was what he was all about.

Back to Dad's paintings, he experimented with various styles trying different techniques and styles.  He was a modernist at heart.  He came up with a style that he called clutage.  This was a combination of metal and paints.  He used found scrap metal pieces from the printing of photos from the local paper.  He would nail these to boards combining metal nails and paints to form interesting modern art pieces.  He even had a show in New York City.  During the show Leo Costello saw his work and wanted to handle his work. This was the same man who managed Andy Warhol, Jasper Johns and Jackson Pollack.  He wanted Dad to do larger pieces.  Because of the weight of the boards and metal combined, Dad thought that they would be too heavy, also he said that he had a family to take care of.  Dad took his responsibilities seriously.

Mother and Dads love was truly a romantic love story.  Dad's cousin Margaret Old was making her debut.  Her mother was a friend of my grandmother Porter.  She decided that Beverly Porter would be a good date for Donald.  I think that Margaret and Dad were cousins.  Dad's name was on the back of Mother's invitation and hers on the back of his.  All it took was that one date and they fell head over heels in love.  This was a love that continued their whole life.

I certainly was so lucky to have had such a loving, caring, and talented man for my Father.

The truth about old people

I remember all the older people in the family.  As a child and even as a young adult, I did not realize that with in that older person was the kernel of the child skill looking out from the aging facade.  Now that I qualify as being an old person I finally know that with in every elderly person is the child and the young person that they once were. Just because we get older on the outside it does not mean that we become old on the inside.

Life has a way of sculpting who we are and what we become.  Our experiences mold us and either make us stronger, and wiser, or hardens us and sometimes makes us bitter depending on the person.  Life can be beautiful but, it is never easy.

I wish that I had realized this when I was younger and the older generation was still around.  I caught glimpses of this especially from my Grandmother Porter and my Mother.  My grandmother Porter, my Nana, was impish and loved to laugh.  She enjoyed life to the fullest.

There was the time that my mother and her cousin Liz had been out on a date and came in late sneaking up the stairs to bed shushing each other so as not to wake any one.   They happened to turn around and there was my grandmother sneaking behind them shushing too.  She also played the same trick on my friend Ellen and myself after we had come in late one evening.  Then there was the time that she went crabbing at our cousin John Spence's home and  she had taken off her stockings and rolled her dress up and tucked it into her under pants in order to crab.  There she was with mud on her legs, having a wonderful time catching crabs.  My little brother was so taken back that he exclaimed, "look at my Nana!"  We all laughed.

Nana had an infectious laugh.  When she laughed everyone laughed with her.  I remember laughing so hard that I almost fell off the chair where I was sitting.  My grandfather Porter, my Dan, on the other hand was more proper.  His father Moses Porter, was a Methodist minster.  One Sunday in church we were singing the Hymn "Go tell it on the Mountain" when all of a sudden we realized that Dan was singing something different.  He sang "go tell Aunt Lucy, go tell Aunt Lucy the old grey goose is dead...The one she's been saving, the one she's been saving to make a feather bed."  Another incident that embarrassed Dan was at a Bank Board meeting when he reached in his pocket for his handkerchief and pulled out two silk stockings.  He was evidently at a loss for words.  All he could say as all eyes were on the stockings was, "my daughter's."  Mother had been wading at the beach and taken her stockings off and stuffed them into his front pocket.  They were then forgotten until he pulled the handkerchief out of his pocket.  He had a reoccurring nightmare that he was in downtown Norfolk without any clothes on try to find someplace to hide. As a proper banker who dressed in three piece suits this surely was a nightmare.

My dad told me tails of lighting a fire cracker and having go off in his hand causing him to jump over a fence.  I am sure with two brothers there stories to be told that I never heard.  Grandfather Lewis, Dan Low, went to Penn. State, where he was a member of the glee club.  They went out west to some of the towns there that still had wooden side walks.  I discovered this from old photos that he had saved.  My grandmother Lewis and her sister Nell would go to shows and look at what they were wearing and then copy the clothes making patterns themselves and sewing the clothes.  My aunt Nell told me that they had a pet goose that would follow her around and pull her pig tails.  I wish that I had known to ask questions about their past.

The child and the youth that they were was still there.  I wish that I had gotten to know that part of each of them better

Our Ancesters and Cousins and Such

I love my family.  I always have loved family.  Through the years the family has changed.  My grandparents and the greats disappeared first.  All of a sudden I realized that I no longer had great Aunts and Uncles.  But then I still had all my Aunts and Uncles.  Slowly one at a time they also were gone as well as my parents.  Now my family consist of my brother, my sons, my nephew and his family and my cousins and I am the oldest..

Cousins are the next thing to your own siblings.  We grew up together.  Being the oldest of all my cousins, I watched each one grow from their childhood into the adults that they have become.  I don't see them often, but that does not diminish the love that I have for them.

There is that family history that we share.  I was lucky enough to have know two great grandmothers.  My mothers grandmother actually lived with us in my grandparents home.  I knew both sets of grandparents, and lived at one point with three of them.  I feel the responsibility to some how tell about this part of our family that the others missed. My brother and I were the only grandchildren to know my Lewis grandparents.  My Porter family was luckier and all the grandchildren were able to know their grandparents.

I knew my grandfather Lewis, but failed to ask the questions about his earlier life.  He graduated from the University of Pennsylvania in 1913.   I am not sure why he moved to Virginia.  He was invited to the Sykes home with the idea that he might like Nell Sykes, however, he was taken by her younger vivacious sister Adelaide.  Walter Judd Lewis traveled with the Penn State Glee Club out west on tour.  I only found this out from photos after his death.  I knew that he was a tall slim balding man.  He was kind and considerate.  My grandmother Lewis was also thin.  They were both very thin.  Having lived part of their adult life in Pittsburgh during the depression might have had something to do with how thin they were.  My grandmother had very bad arthritis.  She would have the family over for dinners, but did not want anyone else in the kitchen.  She seemed to be very up tight, possibly because she was in pain.  I do remember that one day I spent the afternoon with her and we sat together and played cards.  I think that that was the closest that I ever got to her.  I also remember that she did have some artistic talent as she painted water colors of Camellias that were quite good.  Her father was a gentleman farmer who would have liked to have become a sculpture. They moved from their home in the country to a house in the city of Norfolk on Warren Crescent.

Both my Lewis grandparents died in their 60s.  I think my father worried about this.  He on the other hand lived to be 85 and died a few days after that birthday.  My Dad and all his siblings died of cancer of one sort or another. I blame this as well on having lived a good part of their youth in Pittsburgh.  Each one had a different kind Dad's was thyroid.  He had a goiter and did not want to have it removed until it grew and he had no choice.  Judd had prostate cancer and Bevo (Beverly) had brain cancer.  Adelaide had lung cancer.

Mother's family the Porters were healthier.  They also lived through the depression.  I remember my Porter grandmother, telling about seeing people living in Piano boxes, as she passed through New Jersey on her train ride to visit her parents in New York.  Granddad Porter was the youngest of nine children.  His father was a Methodist Minister out of Ripley, OH.  They moved to Virginia when he was still a young man.  A wealthy man decided to help him out and send him to banking school.  When he first saw my grandmother Lillie Maude Jones, he decided right then and there that was the girl that he was going to marry.  There was 5 years between them.  By the time that she was old enough to marry, her father had accepted a job promotion from Camp manufacturing as their agent in New York City.  So Ralph after establishing himself with the bank, traveled to New York to marry his love and to bring her back to Virginia.  They started out living in Berkley Virginia, where both my mother Beverly and her brother, George were born.  They later moved to 931 Graydon Avenue, where they lived for many years.

My Lewis grandparents also lived on Graydon Ave, on the 700 block in the Graydon Park area. I remember walking from one grandparents home to the other.

Advantages of Multi Generational Living

My family doctor complemented me on the care that our family had given my mother as she aged.   He said that kind of loving care was an exception rather than the norm.  I reflected on that comment and I have come to the conclusion that families today are different than the families of yesterday.

I only know how my family lived.  I was born at the end of World War II.  My father who was state side was still in the service.  We lived with my mothers extended family.  There were four generations living together under one roof.  This included my grandparents, my parents, my great grandmother and myself and my baby brother.  I never remember any discord.  All the women in the family helped in the kitchen.  I remember that we all lined up to do the dishes. Someone would wash another dry and the another would put the clean ones away. 

There was no television to start with so we would sit together and talk or play card games.  In the summer everyone would sit outside on the front porch and visit with neighbors who would be out walking.  There was a camaraderie in the neighborhood as well as in the family.  People cared about each other.  Older people were revered and considered a valued part of the family.

Loving and considering and making sure that an older family members had a good quality of life is the natural thing to do.

Unfortunately in some families  this family unity has diminished.  People have moved away from where their families live.  Mothers, as well as fathers, work there is a rush to hurry up and eat and watch television or to play games on the computer or to check the cell phone.  People go their separate ways.  The interconnections among families has greatly decreased. 

Young people need the connection with the older generations.  They need the support and shared wisdom and when they age, they need the support and love from the family unit.  They need to understand the love that is the family and what it means to be part of an extended family unit.  The love in a family is a gift that can go from one generation to another.

Roses and Mother's Day

It was Mothers Day some time in the early 1950s and we were picking roses to wear to church.  It was traditional to wear a red rose for your mother.  As we were picking the roses to pin on our lapels we only picked 3 red roses and a white rose.  My grandmother, Lillie Maud Porter, and my mother, Beverly Lewis and I wore the pretty red roses we had picked, but my great grandmother, Viola May Jones wore a white rose.  I asked her why her rose was white and she told me that it was because her mother was no longer alive.  As a child I let it go at that, realizing that she was old and that her mother would have been very old so it made sense to me that she was no longer alive.  It was not until I did some research into my ancestry that I found out that she had lost her mother at a very young age.  Gram as I called my great grandmother lost her mother when she was a very young child and grew up with her older sister as a substitute mother and the main female influence in her youth.  I was blessed to have the loving early upbringing of my wonderful mother, grandmother, and great grandmother all living together in an extended family unit. This mothers day I will wear a white rose near my heart for those I have lost.  I can only hope that I have been as good a mother as these wonderful ladies.

A little Bear for a Baby

My nephew Davidson and his sweet wife Andrea are expecting their first child a little boy in March.  While shopping I found a delightful little boy bear and could not resist buying it for the soon to be cherish child.  I decided that maybe I should write a story to go along with this whimsical bear.

Little Bear was in need of a little boy to play with. He was lost in a pile of stuffed toys in a great big store, and even though he had other toys all around him he felt all alone. " I know," he thought," that I am supposed to have a very special little boy in my life.  But where can I find him and how will I know if he is the right boy for me?"  The old stuffed camel in the pile next to him replied, "Don't worry, you will know, your heart will tell you.  When you see your boy,  you will feel your heart swell with love and that will be the boy for you.  In the mean time you will just haft to wait."  Just then a lady reached out and picked up the little bear.  "Oh, isn't he cute!" she said. "He has on farmer jeans and looks like he should belong to a little boy."  She carried he away from the pile of other toys and the old stuffed camel.  "Bye," said the camel, "It looks like your adventure has just begun.  I hope that you find your little boy soon."

The lady bought the little bear and took him out to her car, stuffed into a shopping bag with other things, but no other toys.  Little bear managed to peek out of the bag a saw that the car was moving. "Oh," he thought, " I do hope that I will be able to find my boy."  The kind lady took bear home and told him that she had plans for him, but he had to wait and be patient.  There was a very special little boy that was going to need a special bear to hug and love.  "I will make sure that you get to this little boy, but first we have to wait for him to be born, and you have to take a long trip from Virginia to Colorado where he will be born.  You see bear he will be a tiny baby and you must watch over him and take care of him until you can play together.  I will write and tell his parents that you will be his friend and to make sure that you have a place in his room where you can watch over him."

Little bear was so excited he was going to have a boy as his best friend.  The nice lady made a comfy box up all lined with soft cushiony paper as a bed for bear.  She then wrote a note for him to take with him to his new home where he would wait for the arrival of his boy.

The lady tucked little bear into his comfy box bed.  "This is the first part of your journey," she said as she taped the box.  She picked up the box and took it to the post office and then the journey really began.  It was a long trip and a little scary for the bear being in that box, but he knew that he was now really on his way to his boy and his heart began to swell just a little.  It seemed like forever before he heard the box being opened and two grown people took him out of the box and into a room where they said he could wait for the new baby.  after a little wait the mother and father brought the baby home and when bear saw his baby his heart began to swell until he thought that it could not get any bigger for there in their arms was his boy.