Autumn weather does something to me, it inspires me, it takes me on a journey down the road of the past. Yes, the past. Our heads are full of memories, traditions, and it's my way of making "time" travel happen. It takes me to a simpler time, one without Blogs like this one, Videos like the videos I post (although there are many home videos that exist from this time buried in time capsules throughout our house), and social media. Our minds are the time machine, and I travel in it quite often, and my dad, he's full of time travel. He's a connoisseur when it comes to turning back the clock, selecting a memory or family member, and talking about that time line that we walked in our younger years.
My dad was the first to fine tune my mind to technology, so he's partly to blame (thank) for my infatuation with the newest gadget, which as I get older they become less enticing, unless I can use them as a tool to get somewhere, i.e. our travels. I remember the excitement with our family when he brought home a large camcorder, the first we've ever seen. It had a microphone that wasn't a "dead cat" just a large boom that looked like the end of a cattail. It required full VHS tapes, and arms of steel to hold the thing because it was so heavy. There wasn't VHS-C, there wasn't 8mm, and there wasn't DVD camcorders, available to the common consumer, and the future was aeons away from inventing digital media. He introduced me to betamax, and his eventual relentless frustration with the video rental stores discontinuing renting beta and converting to VHS, vividly sticks out in my mind (remember DVD to BluRay?). He introduced me to the first VCR, wood grain and all, (something about the popularity of wood grain on vehicles and appliances), and it actually had a timer, so far ahead of its time (well before digital hard drives and DVR's). These inventions along with some of the best music and movies of my life, were all a great part of family times sitting around the television and sharing our fears as we watched a movie, a new release video tape, or a television series, yes, tv series that we couldn't binge watch.
I have to say he was probably inspired by his own father, my grandfather, Carl Eagle, pictured below. I heard tales of my grandfather's creations. He was born in 1914 and left us in 1985. The things he saw, the inventions and innovative automobiles of his time had to be mind blowing as well as the electricity in its infancy during his impressionable years. He jumped into all of it , he had a dying urge to learn and learn he did. He taught my own dad about electricity, and who better to teach than a man who watched these inventions unfold into a world that never had it?
I owe a lot to that man, for one, he created my father. The picture above was how I remember him, although he wasn't smiling, he wore a green work uniform and it appears, in this picture, that he nicked himself shaving .
I was in middle school, seventh grade. I walked to the bus stop which happened to be near my grandfather's house, a mile or so down the road from my house. I'd stop in and visit him, leaving my house early every morning, to talk. He'd always be up, his television murmuring in the background and always seemed pleased that I'd stop by. October is the month I remember most, the month we connected. I told him that I'd be trick or treating, and he laughed saying that he wanted to collect colorful leaves and put them in sandwich bags and pass them out. He was joking of course. Having low blood sugar he had to watch his candy intake. I remember talking to him about everything and listening to him. I liked to hear him laugh. The school year progressed, conversations resumed, and before I knew it December rolled around. I remember getting home and looked at his house. I wanted to go in, but hesitated because something seemed off. I went home and found out the news that he was in the hospital with pneumonia. I remember hearing the phone ringing and conversations about "Ed's dad" dying, as my mom dialed everyone on our home phone. I cried in my bed, because I didn't get the opportunity to know my grandfather as I could have. I cried because I was just getting curious about my family and at that point realized I never would know him that way, only through stories told to me by my dad.
What I did know about my grandpa was that he was a crane operator, operated mostly behind the old Dairy Queen that was on Military Street in downtown Port Huron. He had retired as I was growing up. He loved gadgets, this I know, by strolling to the musty barn at the back of his property, that once housed pigs. I remember seeing a coffee pot switch which he converted into a night light. It was stuck into a plug socket and glowed orange. He loved to weld, I still have a couple playground things that still exist today, albeit replacing the wood that rotted over time. He owned property, sold property, built houses, one which still exists in Gladwin, where our cabin was built, and one where my dad finished growing up in, the house I visited with frequency. I remember the chickens that he used to raise for meat, and the family barbeques at his house, the smell of his home grown chicken, rotisserie style, rolling slowly over a charcoal grill that he constructed out of brick.
I wish I'd gotten to know more about the man as I grew up, but didn't. I do get to live vicariously through my dad as he talks with pride about my grandfather, and that's better than nothing at all. I do know that the December he died Christmas was sad, because he wasn't around to share it with us anymore, and that I couldn't talk with him or grow up with him in my life. I remember the last Christmas present I got from my Grandpa, it was a gadget, they were battery operated headphones, only for radio, but they were awesome. I still have them stuffed away in a trunk of youthful treasures and get them out from time to time, they still operate, as far as I know. I think about him often when Autumn is in the air, and wonder how life would have been if he'd lived five, or even ten more years. The eighties were times of innovation for my own development, as well as all those intricate household items that I got to see as my dad continued to grant me access. I will forever cherish the knowledge my grandfather passed to my dad, and the knowledge my dad passes to me, and will hold them, and the memories, dear to my heart. Thanks, Grandpa, for being you, and thanks Dad for always being an inspiration in my life today!
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