Grandpa Ora Hornocker....1918
Last Friday evening, Debbie and I went to the Shriner's Fish Fry in Anderson with my Dad.
It was "All-you-can-eat", and the fish portions were huge. They may have
lost money on me. Good thing I didn't team up with brother Kirk.
We were updating Dad on the slow progress we are making on the total
renovation of Debbie's 120 year old house in Lapel, and I mentioned that
I was becoming fairly handy, learning from Debbie and experience.
Debbie commented on how she had learned so much about cars and construction
at her father Larry's elbow, and Dad mentioned that as handy as his dad was,
for whatever reason, he never gained that experience from his dad.
Grandpa Ora was a farmer in Southern Indiana, until he married Grandma Etta,
and they moved to near Lafayette to work on Purdue Farms. Grandpa worked
hard there, but in 1940, while he was in the Lafayette hospital for his third hernia
operation, Grandma decided that he was done with the hard farming life, and she
packed their things and moved them in town to 27th Street.
When Grandpa was released from the hospital, per custom of the day, they summoned
an ambulance to take him home. When the ambulance stopped in front of the house on
27th Street, Grandpa was irritated and confused when the driver told him that his wife
had told him that this was where he lived. I'm not sure how dinner went that evening,
but eventually they bought and moved into the house across the street, and lived there
until after Grandpa died, and Grandma moved in with Aunt Rosemary in 1993.
As Dad told us this story at the Fish Fry, I was amazed at at least two parts of the story.
First, I couldn't believe that Grandma just moved them into town without consulting
with Grandpa. Another dimension in time and relationships, I suppose. I guess it worked
out, as they lived there for another 50 years.
But I was also amazed that I had never heard this story in all my 49 years. What this told
me was that my dad has a plethora of life wisdom and stories that rarely gets tapped into,
but often times it only takes a simple conversation to draw it out.
I remember Grandpa George on my Mom's side, and being aware of his rich life history
of fighting the Nazi's in Germany in World War II (I have the trophy Nazi flag to prove it).
I always imagined that he had a million facinating stories to tell, but unfortunately, his hearing
was awful, and it was very difficult to carry on a conversation with him, so I guess I didn't
try hard enough. I regret that now.
I remember talking to Mom over lunch one day six months before she died, and asking her about her experience of her mom sending her to live with her friend Bernice during the Great Depression. (click there for the link to the story of Toots).
I'm glad I asked Mom about Toots.
I'll have to ask my dad more probing questions about our family past, and his own life
experiences, so I don't miss any more good stories.
I wonder if there are any good stories in your family that you've never heard?
What will you talk about the next time you have dinner with your parents?
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