Tuesday, April 27, 2021

My other grandfather

Since I've written a lot about my dad's father, my Papa Lee, I think it's only fair that I introduce you to Grandpa Prentiss, my mother's dad. 

Here you see me in 1936 ... the littlest of the Lee girls.  I'm squeezed onto the running board of my Grandfather's new car.  He sits proudly in the driver's seat and my grandmother peers out the back window.  The picture was taken in Brattleboro, Vt., where they lived and, although I certainly can't remember that particular day I can imagine the sights and smells quite well.

Grandpa's hobby was woodworking and I loved to watch him at work in his shop located just off the kitchen.  Wondrous toys, furniture and bric-a-brac seemed to miraculously spring from his agile fingers as he turned the wood lathe and I loved the smell of the new sawn shavings.  His main job however was as a salesperson for the Estey Organ Company and he traveled far and wide throughout New England in his beloved car promoting and selling their product.  Here you see an Estey Reed Organ, circa 1927.

My grandfather Prentiss was a complete opposite of Papa Lee and, although I remember him as a fairly reserved and stern figure in his home the stories abound about his travels on the road ! I can just see him ... the windows of his beloved car wide open to catch the air and his cap perched jauntily on his head.  I would love to have gone along on those trips, but doubt he would have appreciated my company! 



Blogger Goldendaze-Ginnie said...

from my friend Jan:

Some grandpops are magical creatures - some, not so much.
You had a couple interesting ones. Sounds like good men, both.

I loved the picture of the organ... tried looking it up and found a video of Fats Waller-Sugar-1927~Played on the Estey Organ - YouTube

10:19 AM  
Blogger kenju said...

Love that old organ - I always harbored a desire to own one (along with a grand piano.

I am sure you have good memories of that workshop....I know I would. I loved the smell of wood when I was small. Daddy once gave me a box of nails and a hammer, along with some wood to hammer them into. He was trying to get me away from hammering nails into our wooden back porch floor....lol

10:47 AM  
Blogger Bonnie Jacobs said...

I enjoy hearing stories about our grandparents. I never met my mother's father, who died in a traffic accident when she was only 12 years old. But I did know (and vaguely remember) my father's father, whom I called "Pops." He died when I was four. We're living longer these days.

11:07 AM  
Blogger Arkansas Patti said...

You had cool Granddads. Liked the picture on the car. One more kid and he would have needed a bigger car. Both of mine were not nice men with no redeeming features and both my grandmothers deserved so much better.

12:25 PM  
Blogger Anvilcloud said...

I didn't realize that organs like that were sold by travelling salesmen. Different times.

2:00 PM  
Blogger Marie Smith said...

I remember the days of the travelling salesmen. Our set of pots was bought from one who travelled from PEI to Newfoundland. I don’t imagine that job was an easy one. It would take a certain kind of personality to do that work.

7:44 PM  
Blogger Joared said...

That’s quite an ornate fancy pump organ. We had a pump organ for a few years, much plainer as I recall, that my mother used to play. I don’t know who manufactured it.

3:00 AM  

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