Old Greenwich: Yes, it's that old

So, periodically, I'll be walking home from the train or just out and about and I see this guy on his horse and buggy with his dog.  Well, my friend Kelly was able to capture this fabulous photo of this mysterious Dickens-like character....you know, just taking care of daily errands like banking. I wonder if Wells Fargo was the first bank to offer drive-thru windows back in the pioneering days of horses, wagons, and cowboys. Hmmm...something to investigate.

Since my grandparents know every soul in town who's 60 and above, I'm going to ask them about this fine fellow. I'll be back here with more, if they have any information about him....

Attic Treasure

My grandparents are getting a new roof in the next few weeks so last weekend, we cleaned out the attic to prepare for the monumental event. In cleaning it out, Fanny and I found a family treasure, a poster my aunt created for my grandfather’s 75^th birthday party. This was one of the few times our east and west families united in one place when we were young and it was a blast.

My family of six drove across the country to celebrate it with everyone. I remember only snippets of it, but we loved our east coast family. They seemed so exotic. They live in a place where everything was so green and the houses were made out of wood, and it just seemed old. You see, we were raised in Arizona, so naturally, the desert isn’t quite green. It’s colorful, but not green. Homes are made out of brick or adobe and usually have only a single floor. Stairs and cellars and attics were so fascinating to us growing up.

Anyway, I pull out this poster which is at least 3 ½ ft tall, covered in cobwebs, spiders—dead and alive, and the tape is so dried out and old it practically evaporates when I peel it back from its 16-yr-old grip. We have got to see this. And more importantly, Grandpa has to see it. I roll it out on the living room floor which takes at least 20 minutes. It’s so tightly rolled it doesn’t know anything other than the life of a tightly wound poster. With the help of some living room furniture, I’m able to peel back time. My aunt, who is a brilliant artist, made it when I was 13 yrs old, the year of his 75^th. How crazy. Crazy that we’re here and Grandpa is 91 now. I’m nearing 30. Where did that time go? I bring Grandpa into the living room and he just gazes upon it for a while. Staring at the names, the image of the Dawntreader, my aunt’s birthday card signature character…and he smiles. Fanny peaks down from the stairwell and says, “what are all those pictures at the bottom?”

“It’s Grandpa with an apple on his head.”

“Why does he have an apple on his head?”

“Because, Grandpa always took and continues to take silly photos.”

Grandpa laughs and growls at Fanny.

“Oh, George!” as she scurries back up to the attic to filter through old ribbon and wrapping paper.

“I must have had a great time,” Grandpa says.

“Yes, Grandpa, don’t you remember the three uncles dancing in coconut bras and grass skirts for you?”

He bursts into laughter. Does he remember? Doesn’t he? It doesn’t matter. He loves the idea of it all.