Oh, the stories they can tell
On March 1 my father-in-law Jim will turn 80 years old. That is remarkable, yes, but what is even more amazing is that he is the youngest of 13 kids and six are still with us. I’d say those LeRoy genes are pretty awesome.
Uncle Bob and Uncle Ken won’t be attending, but Uncle Bernie, Aunt Bernice, Aunt Myra and their kid brother Jimmy will all be there.
This weekend we will celebrate the big 8-0 with a party, and along with the four “kids” we have several cousins and other family members attending. After planning the menu and logistics of seating 27 people, my thoughts turned to family lore.
There’s a LeRoy family member who has painstakingly collected of information on genealogy – which grandparent came over to America, when, and who they married, and how many children they had – which is always interesting, but I have always craved stories.
After thinking about it, I decided to ask everyone attending to cast back in their memories for stories of Jim, or of the family in general, and I will write them up. I assured them that they don’t have to be fully-formed, or written down; just maybe jot a note or two to remind yourself if that helps, like “Fair 1945,” or “Geraldine’s wedding.”
Uncle Bernie has already sent a write-up of some memories, in which he remembered going on hours-long adventures around early 1940s Santa Rosa as a kid, climbing across a railroad bridge, exploring empty warehouses and creeks and building sites and other super cool places with his brothers – and often, his littlest brother, too – just roaming to their hearts’ content.
The LeRoy family moved to Fresno when Jim was pretty young, but he also has memories of growing up here in Santa Rosa; one that keeps being brought up is one where he was tagging along with his older brothers (their mother made them take him) and he swears they watched elephants being washed in the creek by Grace Brothers’ Brewery. The older boys didn’t have a strong recollection of the event, but there was a large warehouse nearby that held the circus when it came to town, so chances are that vision of elephants in the creek was real.
Uncle Bernie also shared a story that I had never heard in the quarter century I’ve known the LeRoy family. (I’ve heard the elephant story a few times.) Uncle Bernie remembers standing by his garage door, watching a delivery truck back down their driveway, and then seeing Jim – who was not yet walking – crawling directly in the path of the truck, which then actually ran over Jim’s stomach
Bernie said he doesn’t remember the rush to get his baby brother into the house, but he does describe the memory of watching his mother placing Jim on the kitchen table, then directing the sisters to fill a tub, and then massaging his stomach for a long time … can you imagine? And can you imagine the surprise I felt realizing I had never heard even a whiff of this story? I can’t wait to hear Aunt Bernice and Aunt Myra chime in on the Jim-getting-run-over story – I’m sure that was an event they haven’t forgotten, almost 80 years later.
This is the sort of thing I hope comes out of this weekend: memories sparking other memories, and stories reminding of other stories. I love to see the piecing together that happens when you compare memories with others who were there — details get filled in, perspectives get changed and the story becomes more alive. There are close to nine decades of memories to glean, and I can’t wait.
Rain is forecast for Saturday, but that’s okay. We usually gather in Jim’s kitchen, anyway, close by the food and the wine, and conversation flows from one group to another as easily as laughter. We’ll catch up on each other’s lives — both the present, and the past — and toast to the birthday boy. We’ll make sure to get lots of hugs, and take lots of pictures, and we’ll add a new memory to the pages of our lives together.
Happy birthday Dad!
Juliana LeRoy wears many hats, including wife, mother, paraeducator and writer. She can be spotted around Windsor gathering material, or reached at
ml****@so***.net
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