I Remember Grandpa
The Story of Henry Blome
My actual memories of Grandpa are scanty, but I would like to share them with you. As I have said, while I was growing up we went to Clinton, Illinois, often. The cigar factory was in operation but I have no clear memories of it. I suppose I was seldom in it. Probably Mom and I stayed in the front in Grandma’s shop. Grandma and Grandpa were living behind the building in a small house. My only memories of this house center around a meal eaten there. The table was stretched full length because the entire family was sitting at it. There were ten in all. The table was covered with a white linen cloth and Grandpa had cooked a goose, so it must have been Christmas dinner. We were very crowded and I was against the wall with people on either side, more or less a prisoner at the table.
After the fire in the building the inside was done over. Where the cigar factory had been was now a two room and bath apartment for my grandparents. I think I remember that the little house had had just a stool and lavatory so having the tub was a real treat for them.
Grandpa had a small room between the living quarters and Grandma’s street front shop. He still made a few cigars for his own use and some few special customers. I remember watching him make cigars and was fascinated by the goo he used to seal the tobacco wrappers on the cigar fillers. The goo was put in little glass saltcellars. When the cigar had its final wrap, Grandpa used a rounded knife to trim both ends of the cigar. In the museum at Clinton there are a few tools from the factory on display.
Evidently Grandpa couldn’t whistle, but he like to blow through his pursed lips, and I always imagined he was hearing a tune in his head. One day we were invited to stay for lunch and I remarked, “Too bad Grandpa doesn’t have any of that good stuff for the bread.” Grandpa chuckled and went to the cooler in the basement and returned with the apricot-pineapple spread which is a special favorite of mine. I wish I had learned his secret of cooking meats. He made a veal loaf that I liked and I don’t really care for veal. The only recipe I have of his is for the spread.
I remember one time when the four grandchildren were in Clinton together Grandpa gave Henry a dollar. Henry was the oldest and he was entrusted with the task of sharing with the rest of us—so he tore the bill into four equal pieces. I remember we kids thought it funny, but do not recall the reactions of our folks.
I am sure Grandpa must have given Frederick and me money at other times, as I remember having a nickel to spend on treats almost every time we were in Clinton. Grandpa was freer with money than Grandma.
Grandpa must have been bald most of his life. His wedding picture shows a nearly bald young man of 25. He was short and stocky with big knuckles on his hands and feet. He wore only one kind of shoe, a slip-on with elastic on the sides.
He was bedridden the last years of his life and was in pain when moved, so much that he cursed when moving him became necessary. Mom and I had to take Dad to the Mayo Clinic in 1939. We knew when we left that Grandpa might not be alive when we returned. He died before Dad was discharged from the hospital, so we did not get to attend his funeral.
I have been told some things about Grandpa that you might like to have recorded. He was 14 when the family came to America. His older brother, Rudolph, was already here. Rudolph was a teacher at a college in Paxton Illinois.
Grandpa learned to cook in Germany as he and his younger sister had to stay at home while the parents and older siblings went to do the farm work. The family left Germany because of Bismarck and the wars he was waging in his attempt to unify Germany. The boat that brought the family to America was combination sail and paddle wheel.
I don’t know how he met Grandma in Dwight, Illinois, because his parents settled in Downer’s Grove. His parents are both buried there. His father worked for the railroad and was killed by a train.
My memories of Grandpa are pleasant ones. He seemed a contented and happy person as he shuffled around in his kitchen. I hope he found life as pleasant for him as he made it for me.