My paternal Grandfather was born in Ohio to German immigrants. He had a sister, but I never knew her or anything about her. He never spoke to me of his Mother, Father or sister. My Grandfather was a rather quiet man and kept his personal life to himself. He was very fond of me, although I can't remember him ever telling me so. I do know that in all my years of knowing him, he never spoke a harsh word to me but always had a smile and a hug for me. He didn't have to say anything, because I could tell he loved me by his smile and the cheerfulness in his voice when I was around.

My Grandfather worked hard all of his life. He raised three boys, the oldest being my Father. Grandfather or Grandpa, as I called him, was left handed. I remember watching him write upside down. He once told me that when he was in school the teacher hit him on his left hand with a ruler for not writing with his right hand. After this abuse for several years, he quit school to go to work in a buggy factory at the age of 13. There were no child labor laws, and my Grandfather was beat there as well. When he complained to his strict Mother, she told him he should have stayed in school.

I loved my Grandfather and felt sorry that he had to endure this, but it didn't seem to affect his outcome. He was a kind and gentle man, a good provider for his family and worked for the New York Central Railroad for fifty years. He worked himself up the ladder to yard conductor. He worked with the steam engines, the coal engines, the diesel engines and lived to see the decline of the railroad when the NYC merged with the Pennsylvania. All of his sons worked on the railroad.

My Father spent three years in the railroad battalion during WW II in Europe. He narrowly escaped being killed on several occasions when the trains which were carrying supplies to the troops were strafed. Both of his brothers retired from the railroad. All three died from lung cancer. My Grandfather died from emphysema. I think the coal dirt and dust contributed to their demise. Although, I must not overlook the fact that they all were heavy tobacco users. However, they all lived a full life span except for the youngest brother. My Dad was 80, his brother next to him was in his seventies, and his Dad 79 when they passed away. The younger brother was only in his 40's though.

I lived next door to my paternal Grandparents from age 5 until 14, so I saw them often. I can still see my Grandpa sitting in his favorite chair by the dining room window, reading the newspaper and smoking his Chesterfields. He walked to work during all kinds of weather, and I never heard him complain. He never owned a car. He did ride the bus downtown. The stop was on the corner where we lived. Sometimes they walked to work at night when they worked the late shifts. Still no complaints.

I remember my Dad slipping on an ice covered rail one winter and driving a spike into his knee. My Grandfather often had bronchitis due to weak lungs, but they kept right on working. They carried lunch buckets and thermoses and wore railroad clothes. They carried switch lists, flares, large chalk, pencils and gold railroad pocket watches in the front of their overalls. They had high topped and starched railmen hats and red or blue bandanas around their necks. Sometimes they carried switchmen's lanterns. They always were neat, clean and pressed looking. They wore work boots on their feet with heavy socks. Their ears were never covered as they needed all of their senses for safety. They had railroad gloves on their hands and the sound of train whistles in their heads.

I remember going to sleep at night with the sound of the cars bumping as they were being switched, and I knew my Grandpa and Dad were there working through the night. It was a comforting sound.