GRANDPA RALPH

I only had two grandparents that I ever knew: both were from my father’s side, his Mother and Stepfather. We called my Father’s stepfather “Grandpa.” Once in a while we called him: “Grandpa Ralph”, my Grandmother called him Rafael. She wanted me to be named after him, but dear old Mom would not hear of it.

Grandpa was my real Grandfather’s best friend, when Grandpa Joe died from the Spanish Influenza; Grandpa Ralph married my grandmother and her three children. He must have loved her a lot because who would marry someone with three children?

Both my real and second Grandfathers were pals who went into the U.S. Army together, with Grandpa Ralph serving in the Calvary during World War I.

All the years that I knew my grandfather, he never worked, but retired from construction, the very same construction crews that built NYC. He was at home all day, would work in his garden, pruning fig trees, grape vines and a large healthy vegetable garden. All of this in the middle of Brooklyn on a small plot of land, while also repairing and maintaining a three family apartment house.

He would take the grapes from his vine and make wine, the tomatoes and basil from his garden and make sauce, and I would take his figs from his fig tree and eat them without even washing them!

When Dad was young, he would get up at 4 in the morning and go to the Bronx on a horse and wagon, my Grandfather asleep at the reins and the horse stopping and going according to the lights, all the way to the Bronx, then back to Brooklyn!

Grandpa Ralph was a slender man that stood about 5’8’ or 5’ 9” and had a white moustache and wore a grey fedora all day long. Spoke perfect broken English, and perfect Italian swear words, that I picked up on.

In the afternoon, right after his lunch with wine would find Grandpa asleep in his kitchen chair, with his leg crossed. He could sit that way for hours without it ever going to sleep!

Around late afternoon, he would sit with the little kids in front of the TV that sat in the kitchen and watch the entire kiddy’s shows, and I often wondered if he did that to learn English a little better.

He followed orders like any good husband, whatever Francesca wanted, Ralph got her, before the snap of her finger was ever completed.

When He died in 1956, there was a funeral and wake that included all of East New York, Bushwick and Bed Sty.

Ralph was nobody’s hero, no one ever really needed him, but he was universally respected. The respect came from his willingness to marry a young widow with children he loved, and a penchant for doing everything with ease and perfection.