Gramma and Grampa

  As I get ready to flip the calendar to September, my thoughts revisit August 1963, when I boarded a Greyhound Scenicruiser for a three-day-and-night trip to New Jersey from Seattle. A solo visit to see Gramma and Grampa was Mom and Dad’s celebratory gift for my high school graduation before I entered college.

   Watching the country rush past, there were no stops for scenic sights like during the years Mom and Dad drove us back East. The bus drivers did announce when we entered a new state and some tourist spots we sped by. The steering tormentors knew we wished they would stop.

   Dad was a Seattle Greyhound dispatcher, giving me advice on how to ride the bus. At seventeen, I wondered how hard could it be? Entering the bus, I forgot all of Dad’s words, and marched to the seat nearest the restroom. As the miles rolled on, an aroma made me discover that was not the luxury seat I’d wanted. As passengers exited, I moved down the aisle until I found the perfect Goldilocks seat, and laughed to myself when I remembered Dad had warned me about where to sit.

  The Chicago Bus Depot was huge, and changing drivers gave me plenty of time to get something to eat at a variety of food shops where I discovered the best ham and cheese sandwich I’d ever eaten: a mile high of ham and sharp cheddar cheese.

  As I waited to re-board the bus, I felt lightheaded from the fumes of so many buses, falling toward the sidewalk in a faint. I awoke in the arms of a uniformed soldier, who had caught me before I hit the cement.

  The bus driver wasn’t going to let me board the bus, but I informed him Dad was a Greyhound dispatcher in Seattle, and he was welcome to call to let him know I would be left behind in Chicago. The heroic soldier and I entered the bus together.

  I had a wonderful two weeks in New Jersey with Gramma and Grampa, but the trips to New York were exceptional—like going to the new Guggenheim Museum with its winding tour of art and the Museum of Art and History.

  During a long day of museum sightseeing, after learning a beautiful naked statue was called Rodin’s “The Thinker,” my five-year-old cousin announced, “I know what he is thinking about! He is thinking about where his pajamas are.” When I see pictures of “The Thinker” I get a knowing smile—he hadn’t found his pajamas.

   On a Sunday afternoon, Gramma and Grampa took me on a tour of Greenwich Village with blocks of art booths with fantastic goods. 

While standing next to a variety of paintings, a man asked if it was okay to take my picture. I said sure, and he snapped a picture. My Gramma had a fit, telling me the photographer was no doubt going to cut out the picture of my face to place on some woman’s naked picture to sell in dark alleys. I couldn’t stop laughing as I thought of my head on a strange naked body, and detective Gramma lurking around to find the naughty pictures of me, ready to buy all the copies.

   On another trip to New York, Grampa wanted me to see Wall Street and the financial district, the heart of big money dealings. After blocks of walking, we found a shiny Wall Street diner. As we were ready to enter, a man approached Grampa for money, saying he was hungry. Grampa invited him to join us for lunch. Gramma, Grampa, a stranger, and I had a leisurely lunch, and laughter. I will never forget that day seeing Grampa’s kindness and compassion.

   This August, I remember my 1963 Greyhound Scenicruiser trip to see Gramma and Grampa.

April Ryan has written many stories and poems for Northwest Prime Time. This one was in response to Ariele’s request for stories about grandparents.

SHARING STORIES is a weekly column for about the 50-plus crowd living in the Puget Sound region. Send your stories and photos to ariele@comcast.net. Tell local or personal stories; discuss concerns around aging and other issues; share solutions, good luck, and reasons to celebrate; poems are fine too. Pieces may be edited or excerpted. We reserve the right to select among pieces. Photos are always a plus and a one-sentence bio is requested (where you live, maybe age or career, retired status, etc.).

SHARING STORIES is featured on www.northwestprimetime.com, the website for Northwest Prime Time, a monthly publication for baby boomers, seniors, retirees, and those contemplating retirement. The newspaper can be found in the greater Seattle area and other Puget Sound locations. For more information, call 206-824-8600 or visit www.northwestprimetime.com. To find other SHARING STORIES articles on this website type "sharing stories" in the search function above.