My Grandfather’s Legacy

I am quite proud of my grandfather, Walter Gideon Jennings. He taught me many things - the value of a job well done, never miss church on Sunday even on vacation, not to squander money, how to play 80 and 42 with dominos, how to make the best of a bad situation, how it was a waste to sleep the day away.  I can’t say that I have been faithful to everything he taught, but his wisdom still sticks in my mind and I do feel guilty if I sleep the day away.

He was born in 1897 and lived a full and rewarding life until he died in 1990. He fought in both World Wars and he is the only person I knew that actually knew someone that fought in the Civil War - his grandfather.

My family, my grandparents and my cousins’ family owned a lake house together and a beach house in Santa Rosa Beach, Florida.  In his younger days, he would work on the property at the lake house with his grandsons.  As he got older, he would sit and watch the grandsons work, supervising and making sure no shortcuts were taken.

I never saw him drink alcohol except one exceptionally hot day at the beach when he had a beer.  We all commented on it so much that I think he decided he shouldn’t drink anymore lest he lead any of us astray.  He and my grandmother would always find a Baptist church on Sundays when we travelled.  Sometimes we would join them, but more often than not, I am ashamed to say, we opted to sleep in.

We called him Gragan.  The grandkids gave him a personalized license plate with “Gragan” on it.  People that saw the plate always mispronounced it so he got a marker and placed those two little dots over the second “a”.  I’m not sure how much that helped your average stranger know how to say it.  The correct pronunciation, and it seems only the grandkids can say it correctly, is “grah-gain”.

He and my grandmother were married over 54 years before she died.  Her name was Ita Marie.  (We called her I’rie). When he would write to her during the war, he was not able to say where he was stationed.  So they worked out ahead of time that if he started his letters with Dear Ita, he would be in Italy (since Italy starts with Ita - get it?).  If he started his letters with Dear Marie, he would be in France (Marie is a French name - get it?).  I thought this was genius and so romantic.

I’rie and Gragan lived in a house that had a full attic above the second floor.  The attic was as large as the second floor with plenty of room to stand up.  I loved spending time up there with my cousins, trying on his old army uniforms, playing with my grandmother’s old hats and finding treasures we would take to them to tell us the stories behind them.  One of my favorite finds is framed in my room today.  It was the first present Gragan ever gave I’rie when they were courting.  A beautiful beaded evening bag.

I also have framed a letter he wrote to his baby sister, Genelle, during the 2nd World War.  It was written on June 4, 1944, the day the Allies entered Rome, freeing it from German control. 

Dear Genelle,

Let it be recorded that this important day in history is a beautiful Sabbath, bright sunshine and colorful wildflowers - the trouble of mankind make a sorry picture in comparison with God’s nature.  It is too bad that we cannot enjoy the bounties and beauties of the world in due regard to the Golden Rule.

Tell Mother to quit worrying about my bed.  An air mattress on a canvas cot is a luxury - and I mean just what I say.  Our food is good also.

Well, I guess you are now started on whatever activities you have decided upon for the summer.  I hope that whatever it is that it is to your liking.

Love to all,

Walter.

As I said before, Gragan knew how to make the best of a bad situation.  I try to follow his example.  I usually fall short.