It was to be the boys tenth birthday. He was really growing up, even his Grandmother said so. He had never known his mother,she passed away shortly after his birth. Of course he had an older brother and he knew his father. Dad would come and visit on occasion. He could remember a time or two when he had taken him to Montauk, all the way to the end of the island. Dad was a fisherman and spent a lot of time on the water. In the last few years he had taken up house painting. After Mom died, Dad went off and lived alone for awhile, that is why he and his older brother lived with grandma and grandpa. They were his mothers parents and had a big old house. After a while Dad met a lady named Lina. They got married and had two sons, his half brothers Dad called them. Pete and Harry. He didn't think they would be coming for his birthday. He didn't see them much. You see, Dad had bought a new car and was heading for Florida. He was going down there to see Uncle Fred. Uncle Fred was a photographer and had his own studio. He was a man who knew people. He told Dad to come on down and he would get him fixed up with a good job and everything.
That was back in 1932 and times were hard. Everybody said so, although the boy had known no other. Dad said he would come back and get them all. But Dad passed away on the trip. He barely reached Florida when something called his appendix burst. There was nothing the doctors could do, he was gone. That was two years ago. Seemed a lot longer.
The boy sat there,feeding the chickens and thinking about all this. Grandma was baking him a cake. He knew that because she had asked him to bring in more wood for the stove. His brother was in the house,reading. He was reading about this stuff called radio. That's all he ever wanted to do. He wasn't much for playing games. There were no other kids his age around. He sat there daydreaming about sailing on the bay and fishing. That's what he really wanted to do. Be a fisherman ,like his father was. Dad had told him some pretty exciting tales about being on the bay and even out in Long Island sound. The sea and the air. And nobody telling you what to do. Sounded like his way of life. Great Grandfather had been a whaler ! He didn't think he wanted to go to sea for years though. Grandma told her she worried all the time when he was gone. That's why her Bible had so many worn pages, from reading it and praying. That whaling must be pretty dangerous stuff.
He was lost in this dream when he heard a voice calling. At first he thought it was saying, Ahoy there or some other nautical greeting. He looked up sharply. There, across the cow lot, came Mr. Mitchell and he was carrying something. Mr. Mitchell was a kindly old man. He often sat and talked with him. Mr. Mitchell had many tales to tell. Tales of the old days. Tales of horses and cowboys. He had seen Mr. Roosevelt and the rough riders when they had camped at Fort Hero out to Montauk. He was calling to the boy, Ben, Ben come give me a hand. So, the boy sprang up and took off running. Across the cow lot he went, dodging the cow patties along the way. He joined Mr. Mitchell who had a large box. This box was tied shut with a piece of string. Mr. Mitchell handed it to the boy and asked him to carry it. I'm getting on in years and that box was getting to be a bit of a struggle. What's in the box, Mr. Mitchell ? You'll see soon enough. And so they continued to walk to the boys house.
When they reached the house they went into the kitchen. Hello Mrs. Lester, a beautiful fall day isn't it ? Grandma agreed that indeed it was and she didn't mind having the stove going on this day, a chill was already beginning to creep in. Well, it is the middle of September. Grandma said, do you know what day it is ? Mr. Mitchell smiled and said, why it is the 18th, I believe. Chuckling, Grandma said yes it is, and do you know it is Ben's' birthday ? It is ? Well, Happy Birthday Ben ! The boy smiled and said politely Thank You Mr. Mitchell. Then he said, Mr. Mitchell what is in the box ? Why it is something for you Ben. For me ? Really ? Yes sir, just for you. Happy Birthday.
The boy could hardly untie the string because his fingers were shaking, he was that anxious to see what it could be. He knew better than to cut that string, Grandpa wouldn't be happy if he did that. Gramp would always say, you never know when you are going to need a good piece of string. And so he fumbled with the knots, had Mr. Mitchell been a sailor ? These knots were the devil to undo. Finally freeing the string from the box, he opened the top and peered inside. What was this ? The first object out of the box was a tall bottle with a stopper in the top. But inside the bottle was something amazing. It looked like a small village. There was a windmill, some ships with sails and a few other things inside. How had Mr. Mitchell gotten those things inside that bottle ? They were all bigger than the hole in the neck ? Still in the box was another item. This was a lamp. The base of the lamp was two jars, looked like relish jars, and they were filled with the same things as the tall bottle. The mouth on these jars were wider but still, how had he gotten those things in there ? The boy was fascinated and thrilled. Thanking Mr. Mitchell he took the lamp and bottle directly to his room. There he plugged in the lamp and studied that bottle. It was amazing.
I have that bottle today. It sits on a shelf and it was my fathers. There is a small sticker, a picture of George Washington in fact, on the bottom of the bottle. The date on it is 1934. I also have the two small jars that comprised the base of the lamp. I can recall as a child seeing this lamp when it was complete. Now it is only the two jars. Why the lamp was taken apart I cannot say. I enjoy these things because I am reminded. Reminded of my father and reminded of days gone by. These objects have meaning for me and I think it is important to share that meaning. That is the reason for this story.
footnote: My sister married a man whose name is, you guessed it, Mr. Mitchell. Not related but an interesting coincidence nevertheless.
That was back in 1932 and times were hard. Everybody said so, although the boy had known no other. Dad said he would come back and get them all. But Dad passed away on the trip. He barely reached Florida when something called his appendix burst. There was nothing the doctors could do, he was gone. That was two years ago. Seemed a lot longer.
The boy sat there,feeding the chickens and thinking about all this. Grandma was baking him a cake. He knew that because she had asked him to bring in more wood for the stove. His brother was in the house,reading. He was reading about this stuff called radio. That's all he ever wanted to do. He wasn't much for playing games. There were no other kids his age around. He sat there daydreaming about sailing on the bay and fishing. That's what he really wanted to do. Be a fisherman ,like his father was. Dad had told him some pretty exciting tales about being on the bay and even out in Long Island sound. The sea and the air. And nobody telling you what to do. Sounded like his way of life. Great Grandfather had been a whaler ! He didn't think he wanted to go to sea for years though. Grandma told her she worried all the time when he was gone. That's why her Bible had so many worn pages, from reading it and praying. That whaling must be pretty dangerous stuff.
He was lost in this dream when he heard a voice calling. At first he thought it was saying, Ahoy there or some other nautical greeting. He looked up sharply. There, across the cow lot, came Mr. Mitchell and he was carrying something. Mr. Mitchell was a kindly old man. He often sat and talked with him. Mr. Mitchell had many tales to tell. Tales of the old days. Tales of horses and cowboys. He had seen Mr. Roosevelt and the rough riders when they had camped at Fort Hero out to Montauk. He was calling to the boy, Ben, Ben come give me a hand. So, the boy sprang up and took off running. Across the cow lot he went, dodging the cow patties along the way. He joined Mr. Mitchell who had a large box. This box was tied shut with a piece of string. Mr. Mitchell handed it to the boy and asked him to carry it. I'm getting on in years and that box was getting to be a bit of a struggle. What's in the box, Mr. Mitchell ? You'll see soon enough. And so they continued to walk to the boys house.
When they reached the house they went into the kitchen. Hello Mrs. Lester, a beautiful fall day isn't it ? Grandma agreed that indeed it was and she didn't mind having the stove going on this day, a chill was already beginning to creep in. Well, it is the middle of September. Grandma said, do you know what day it is ? Mr. Mitchell smiled and said, why it is the 18th, I believe. Chuckling, Grandma said yes it is, and do you know it is Ben's' birthday ? It is ? Well, Happy Birthday Ben ! The boy smiled and said politely Thank You Mr. Mitchell. Then he said, Mr. Mitchell what is in the box ? Why it is something for you Ben. For me ? Really ? Yes sir, just for you. Happy Birthday.
The boy could hardly untie the string because his fingers were shaking, he was that anxious to see what it could be. He knew better than to cut that string, Grandpa wouldn't be happy if he did that. Gramp would always say, you never know when you are going to need a good piece of string. And so he fumbled with the knots, had Mr. Mitchell been a sailor ? These knots were the devil to undo. Finally freeing the string from the box, he opened the top and peered inside. What was this ? The first object out of the box was a tall bottle with a stopper in the top. But inside the bottle was something amazing. It looked like a small village. There was a windmill, some ships with sails and a few other things inside. How had Mr. Mitchell gotten those things inside that bottle ? They were all bigger than the hole in the neck ? Still in the box was another item. This was a lamp. The base of the lamp was two jars, looked like relish jars, and they were filled with the same things as the tall bottle. The mouth on these jars were wider but still, how had he gotten those things in there ? The boy was fascinated and thrilled. Thanking Mr. Mitchell he took the lamp and bottle directly to his room. There he plugged in the lamp and studied that bottle. It was amazing.
I have that bottle today. It sits on a shelf and it was my fathers. There is a small sticker, a picture of George Washington in fact, on the bottom of the bottle. The date on it is 1934. I also have the two small jars that comprised the base of the lamp. I can recall as a child seeing this lamp when it was complete. Now it is only the two jars. Why the lamp was taken apart I cannot say. I enjoy these things because I am reminded. Reminded of my father and reminded of days gone by. These objects have meaning for me and I think it is important to share that meaning. That is the reason for this story.
footnote: My sister married a man whose name is, you guessed it, Mr. Mitchell. Not related but an interesting coincidence nevertheless.
 |
| 1934 |
No comments:
Post a Comment