The amount the yankees stole from us was vast. My family use to own almost all of St. John the baptist parish and large portions of St. Charles parish.My Great Uncle was killed in WWII, and had a hill named after him from the last stand on one of the Pacific Islands. Through a little battle of my own, I got his wallet and military ID. It was my prized possession until we discovered that he had gotten his girlfriend pregnant before he shipped off when his daughter popped up on a DNA site. She'd obviously never met him, knew very little about him, and had none of his belongings or anything to honor and remember him by. She did not know she had a family, and had a hard life without her dad. She grew up to be a fantastic person who spent her life protecting children, that grew up like she did.
I gave her his wallet and ID, and my prize is now knowing that she knows her dad and how awesome he was and that her kids can know about their grandfather. He was really one hell of a man. Thankfully, I still have some trinkets that the military sent when he crossed over parallels and was on secret missions. It's really interesting going through that stuff.
Otherwise my family basically has jack, between the Yankees stealing everything old and the modern debt era.
And the wealth they stole is why the NE is still so wealthy, and why Yankees are the main politicians/political families in the country. Funny how that works...they write the textbooks too.The amount the yankees stole from us was vast. My family use to own almost all of St. John the baptist parish and large portions of St. Charles parish.
Do you have a family heirloom you would like to share! Post it here!
Recently received this from a family member, One of Granddads' Saturday night specials..
Arminius revolver 7 shot HW5, He paid a whopping $49.95 for it on 11/18/68
Comes with a box of 32's I would guess the gun has never been fired?
If you have something you want to share then post up! Thanks
Thanks for posting all that it was a great read. You are so lucky you got to know and love your family like that. I never knew a grandpa they died before I was born and my grandma's both did when I was very young.The oldest relative I have a personal heirloom from is my great-grandfather. He lived to be 101 years, 10 months, and 13 days old. As my mother and aunt were both nurses and worked at the nursing home my great-grandparents were in, he got whiskey in his coffee and at least one cigar every day up to the end. I have a leather bi-fold wallet of his with an Immaculate Heart of Mary token in it. I was blessed to know my Poppa and Grammy in my youth.
I have my paternal grandfather's combat knife that he carried on Iwo Jima, it appears to be an unmarked copy of what some call an "EGW" (EG Waterman or something of that sort, I found it somewhere online once, they were sold in stores, don't think they were issued unless maybe as a stop-gap measure). Also have his ribbons, collar EGAs, discharge papers, a Liberty wristwatch, an Australian army hat badge he probably picked up in trade, his Honorable Discharge lapel pin, a transcript of a radio broadcast highlighting local servicemen aired on WNOE after he was wounded and got his Purple Heart, the telegram advising my grandmother of his wounding, his copy of the 5th Division Unit History "Spearhead" published by Infantry Journal Press (dust jacket as well, but VERY tattered), and a letter received from the Marine Corps acknowledging receipt of a postal money order for $26 and change repayment as he apparently had continued to receive combat zone pay for a brief time while out of the zone and convalescing, and some bean counter made sure he was harassed for it a couple years down the line. My dad would tell the story of how enraged his father got over having to pay that back after being wounded, a wound which, due to lingering complications and follow-on surgeries, would ultimately kill him 16 years later. His youngest son later had a son who, in infancy, left with mom after divorce and they had no contact for 45+ years, then reconnected after the lost son, my cousin, had retired from the Marine Corps as a Master Gunnery Sergeant. I scanned all the paper items related to his service, gave him a list of his service awards, and a set of his collar EGAs as I had multiples. Neither of us had ever met our grandfather, being born after his passing, but I'd grown up with stories, went into the Marine Corps myself because of his having served, and was proud to be able to pass that info on to my newfound cousin who had also ended up a Marine.
From my maternal grandfather, I have my first pocket knife he gave me, his rosary, some fishing gear as he always took me fishing in my youth, a dresser top valet tray, and an old Longines wristwatch that, on his passing, I took as a memento. It didn't work at the time, and had an aftermarket Speidel replacement stretch band, and it was just a touchstone reminder. I never even paid any mind to the brand, but later learned Longines was a Swiss brand which had been one of about 1800 different common Swiss watchmakers prior to the advent of the Japanese quartz movement, after which only about 600 brands survived by becoming more luxury oriented, Longines being one. Even still, many brands ended up consolidated under larger conglomerates, and Longines is now part of Swatch Group. When going to Miami, I learned that Swatch Group has a service center there, and brought that old watch to see if it could be refurbished to working order. It ended up having to go to Switzerland for service, and cost me more than most new model Longines watches, but I now have a beautiful, working watch to pass on later. He wasn't much for guns, but when moving to "the country" in Lacombe, had picked up a Ruger 10/22 which I now have, and also had a S&W Model 10 with a filed off front sight which my uncle took, thinking it was a shady "belly gun" that my grandpa probably got from his shady lawyer friend "Tuddy" Tedesco. My grandfather was an honest man, so much so that he once threw floor tiles that he got at a good price into the bayou after another relative told him they surely must have been "hot" at that price, and burned, in a field, a Metropolitan Nash that he bought as my mother's first car because of the same delayed fear at someone else's insistence, so I'm pretty sure there was nothing nefarious about that gun. He did know Carlos Marcello, though, as in his youth, while on a delivery route, he had jumped into a 3 on 1 fight to help the outnumbered guy, who turned out to be Marcello. My grandfather had an outstanding favor for the rest of his life.
From my bonus grandfather (stepmother's dad), also a WWII Marine vet (6th Division, Okinawa), I have a refinished M1 Garand, Springfield, May 1945 serial number. He refinished it kinda light and glossy, it is not a military grade finish, but I prefer it the way he felt like doing it. He taught me how to shoot on his property in Brookhaven, MS, and got to see me come home from boot camp and directly swap stories with me about all things Marine.
From my father-in-law, I have his pocket knife "Sally" (his preferred daily, I also have about a dozen others he had laying around), a gold ring and tie tack, and a H&R .410 that he'd bought intending to give to my stepson someday, but never felt he should given my stepson's attitude and actions, so he asked me to pass it to my son (still his grandson) instead. There was also a Heritage single action .22 that one of his sons wanted, and we later found a very beat up Charter Arms .38 that he'd squirreled away in the garage, but it didn't function properly, and I gave it to our academy for use as a "red gun."
From my dad, I have quite a few mementos. I have his last daily pocketknife, a Seiko that I actually wore for quite a while after his passing, and numerous cuff links, tie bars, rings, his rosary, his 1960 John McDonogh High yearbook, his personalized bowling ball, a couple of his ties (my dad was a clothes horse, but we weren't sized the same, so the ties were the only options to keep), a couple wallets, his sunglasses, driving gloves (he often used them, the only person I ever knew to do so growing up), fishing gear and a pole (I had two and one was burgled from my car once, the rat bastards!), his drafting board and tools, and a set of his drawings from his drafting classes at Delgado (I just showed those things to my 19 year old son last night, as he's starting the Drafting program at NTCC). My dad didn't own guns most of my life, he'd had a 10 gauge goose gun but never hunted much and got rid of it (probably because of my mother), and his mother had gotten rid of all of his dad's guns, to include numerous surplus guns and possibly a bring-back or two, but he'd gotten back into shooting due to my bonus grandfather, and had acquired a Ruger MkII and a Virginian Arms Dragoon SAA in .44 Magnum prior to passing at 49, and I now have those. The first handgun my mother, who had been terrified of guns, ever shot was that .44 Magnum when I took her to the range, and she learned she could do it, that the gun wouldn't shoot her or anyone else of it's own accord, and was later proud to own and shoot a Rossi .38 I gave her.
From my other bonus grandfather, a WWII Army tank crewman, I could have ended up with a bring-back Luger if my mother hadn't made my stepfather get rid of it when she was still terrified of guns. Her father, screwing around with a gun in the attic with an uncle, had a negligent discharge through the floor, down into the house and through a wall, and my mother never wanted anything to do with guns until I taught her.
I have a rosary from my mother, and pictures of when she was little and when she danced in her youth, and a family bible that she kept, and her wedding album. She was not a collector of things, though, not materialistic, and kind of a homebody. She lived with my sister for 25 years before passing early last year, so what she did have is mostly still with her.
From my maternal grandmother, I have my play box. She had an old wooden box, it once held German chocolates but had been painted over with dark green paint, and she kept it under her bed with small toys and trinkets that I played with when staying with my grandparents. The actual contents were long gone, but that box was still there with cards and pictures in it, and was the only thing I could ever think of wanting to remind me of my Grandma and the hours she spent making up games and stories with me, and it now holds mementos of my son's life. Oh, and her Pokeno set, Grandma Lucy loved her some cards, and loved playing Pokeno. We also have a mostly complete set of dishes she had that my wife had taken a liking to, they're a God-awful shade of green with a green/white check pattern, a bit quirky, but my wife chimed in wanting them, soooo....happy wife, happy life!
I figure my military trinkets, duty weapons, and daily pocket accoutrements, will add to those things above one day when I kick, but my son's not very outdoorsy, and immediately cut a chunk of a fingertip off with the first pocketknife I gave him, so who knows what he'll want to keep.
It's odd the way sentiment does or does not attach for some people and some things. My wife and I recently went to an estate sale nearby, happened to be a retired Marine, and he and his wife had no children, just a niece that had been somewhat attached. She loved them, but just had no attachment to the remnants of their lives. There were boxes of his military career history just sitting in the garage, no one really even looking through them beyond a casual glance, and they were dumpster bound at the end of the day, and all of his promotions from Lance Corporal to Lieutenant Colonel framed on the wall. I couldn't take all that stuff, I had no connection to the man, but it just seemed so shameful. The lady running the sale let me take a custom plaque his Company had presented him following Desert Storm, and his framed "Shellback Certificate" and some photos I'd found in a box of the actual ceremony, and I'm going to frame them together with a tag of his name and rank and see if Dan will hang it at Southside Cafe.