Grandpa Tell Me

Grandpa Tell Me ‘Bout the Good Old Days” is a song that was recorded by The Judds, which was popular years ago. It tells of a time when people behaved differently, and things were more predictable and less violent. What happens when people stop passing down those stories, and does it make a difference to anyone? When a story is not a personal story, it may be a historical fact, but there is no personal connection. Future generations learn little about their ancestors. Imagine a time when all they know about them is what is on their grave marker.

Many people use services to collect names and dates for family trees, but this often lacks the personal stories that give those relationships meaning. I know my parents were born before World War I and lived through the Great Depression, World War II, the Korean War, and those major events I was old enough to realize were occurring. What I do not know are the personal stories from my parents about what it was like for them.

My cousin, Geraldine Sanders, wrote a book titled “The Ray Family”. This book was part of the larger book she wrote titled “Partners In The Journey,” which is about her parents. The book contains a huge amount of information about the family tree going back to William H. and Rebecca Rea, who had married sometime around 1770. They lived in South Carolina and had seven children. Over the years, Rea/Ray were used because of how documents got recorded from the spoken sound and not from written sources. I learned from the book about the Ray family about how my parents first met in church one night.

The kinds of things I would like to know are those personal memories of times when emotions were high due to special events, and when times were so difficult that it is hard to put into words. I know what I lived through, but my parents were the sum of all they experienced getting to that point in their lives. Kids judge their parents based on what they know and assume. As I have gotten older, I am more interested in the rest of the story.

Kids today know more about apps on smart devices, TikTok, and other forms of social media than about historical events or their own extended family. My Mom was a good cook, but there were three things you could always count on. The meat would be well-done, a bit salty, and Ted would add salt without tasting it first. She made pecan pie that I loved, but you never had to worry about the filling running because it was more like pralines. Her German Chocolate cake was Maurice’s favorite dessert, and Dad liked her coconut pies. Chilled Hempstead watermelons, sliced onto newspaper in the backyard, and enjoyed with homemade ice cream are cherished memories from the “good old days.”

Memories of my parents and aunt, and uncle in the small kitchen at the table playing “42” and laughing when someone scored big or at the end of the game. Sleeping on quilts on the floor when visiting relatives or eating in shifts while someone washes enough dishes for the next shift. Playing outside until after dark because it is too hot in the house. Six family members with one bathroom and four kids in one bedroom with only a small fan. Visiting relatives who only had an outhouse and a number 2 washtub for baths, where you did not change the water between people. The good old days have many stories that add context, providing you with more of the story you could not have imagined.