Grandpa's Sweet Tooth and other Memories

Candy store, George C Bratt 1921 The Grandpa of my memory is hard to reconcile with the Grandpa I am discovering through researching family history. My memories are of a man who spoke little English, who made me feel like I was his favorite and layed on the couch or sat on the front porch, spitting out chewing tobacco into a coffee can. He proudly tended his roses and made sure his yard never had dandelions. Anthony had a sweet tooth and a favorite holiday gift to give him were chocolate covered cherries. He would give grandchildren Paulette (me), Linda and Lori a quarter each to get lots of penny candy at the candy store around the corner on Bridge Street. He would walk us to the American Bakery for sour cream cookies, paczki, and rye bread. The Grandpa of the past left a country with conflict and lack of opportunities, endured a journey that lasted for months, made his way to a city where he married and had children and lost them both, then married again and had more children. He worked in a tannery, an unskilled job like many of the other Polish immigrants. For a short time, he ran a “game room,” making $100 a day. My interest in genealogy is an attempt to understand that young man, who I never really knew.