gfreedmanblog

My grandpa Charles – for whom
my mother used to light a memorial candle every year to commemorate his passing

Now I am the guardian of the memory of my four beloved and devoted grandparents.

His parents were born in Vilna but came to London for a better life. Grandpa was born here where his father ran a barbers shop in Cable Street near the docks

Grandpa married Anne after her first suitor’s father demanded too large a dowry from Anne’s father. You can see from the wedding photograph that Anne’s parents (also hard working immigrants) had “done well” and gave them a wedding day with all the trimmings.

Their only child, my wonderful mother Sybil, was born above the little shop that grandma and grandpa ran unsuccessfully. Grandpa was too sweet and kind to be “in business”.

He went on the road, after the shop failed, as a travelling salesman and much later in life he and grandma ran the wholesale hairdressing supplies business in Dean Street that belonged to the widow of grandma’s nephew. Grandpa was a devoted husband. He adored his wife and took care of her, doing much of the cooking and housework as grandma was crippled with arthritis from a young age

Grandpa had two sisters, Bertha and Cissie. Cissie played piano in cinemas accompanying the silent movies. I found a photo of her today when she was a member of “the renowned Caicedo orchestra”.

Cissie married a “wrong ‘un” who left her with a child. She later developed Parkinson’s disease and when we occasionally visited her I was scared because she shook. How I wish that someone had explained to me (a young child) the reason that Cissie had such a scary tremor and could no longer play the piano. In those days too many secrets were kept from children.

Aunty Bertha used to come and play kalooki with grandma Anne and grandpa Charles. Two of her grandsons trained in the West End as hairdressers and eventually opened a very, very successful salon in New York and a range of hair products called Bumble and Bumble that they sold to Lauder for many millions of dollars. They, unlike my lovely, sweet grandpa, were shrewd businessmen who worked hard at their craft. Once, 26 years ago, when we and the children were visiting New York, I contacted the hair salon and took my son to visit this distant cousin. He showed us around the fashionable premises and told our son that “hard work” comes before “success” in the dictionary! Interesting that his and my great great grandfather (grandpa Charle’s father) worked as a barber when he arrived on these shores. Maybe I should have tried my hand at hairdressing!

My father always respected grandpa Charles

They had a warm relationship and I never heard them argue. My brother and I were the recipients of love and treats and almost weekly outings in grandpa’s Ford Anglia. He and grandma would drive us to Queen Mary’s Rose Gardens in Regent’s Park where he would play with us while grandma sat in a deckchair unable to walk or run. There is so much more to say but next year, PG, I will find more photographs and write more memories of a man who was, truly, a gentleman.

Four neighbours and friends set off this morning and spent one hour clearing litter from just 300 metres of grass verge next to the road running from here towards the village and ……

“Four people, one hour, 300m of Wilden Road = 147 aluminium cans and plastic bottles,,24 glass bottles and half a bin of assorted rubbish! A nice toddlers coat presumely recently blown off a car roof and a piece of blue and yellow trim from a Volvo police car!”

Well done those good citizens. I was (I’m ashamed to say) snowed under with paperwork and then treating Wisp just now with iodine and antibiotics for a nasty abscess in her udder. I will hope to join them next time. Hooray for those good folk (and boo to the litter louts)!