Grandma Ann and Grandpa John

Ever since I was 5 years old I have known Becky Sanchez. We moved next door to her and her brothers and sisters in 1955. We went to kindergarten all the way through high school together. You could almost say we were childhood sweethearts it's just that we didn't love each other in that way. We were like brother and sister and that's all. 

When Becky was 17 she was dating and in love with David Burkhart and they would eventually marry. It wasn't an easy marriage to arrange, she was not yet an adult and her dad was not going to sign the papers for her to get married. During the time she was dating Dave he lived with us. This made it very easy for them to spend time together. All she had to do was come over to our house. We had no problem because Dave was a good kid and he was in the Navy and they would spend time with us watching TV, playing cards or maybe we'd go over to the school and just fool around. 

Dave loved to wrestle with me and he always wanted to arm wrestle me. He could never beat me, but he kept trying. If Dave ever thought I was getting mad when we were arm wrestling or just wrestling he would get up and run. He didn't want to see me mad. He was afraid that if I was mad and got a hold of him, I would hurt him. I don't think I ever would but I sure didn't let him know that.

Becky's dad finally gave his consent for her to marry Dave, he refused to be involved any farther than signing the papers...at first. So they set a date and my mom and dad said they would do what they could. They didn't have a lot of money but they would help where they could. They said they could have the wedding reception at our house. They would buy a ham and slice it up for sandwiches, Mom would make some potato salad and macaroni salad. They would supply some drinks, just no alcohol. Mom told Becky that it wouldn't be the greatest reception but at least they would have one.

As the date got closer, Becky's dad agreed to give her away and help with the reception. The only thing he really did for the reception was to buy some beer and alcohol. I was going to be a usher for the wedding so I had to rent a tux.  This would be my first time to wear a tuxedo and I was a little excited. But after I was in that tux for an hour or so I was ready to get out of it and I got out of it as soon as I could. I think I share that feeling with most men.

The day after the reception John  and Becky's brother Mike and I swiped a case of leftover beer, Miller High Life, and off to the beach we went. We finished the case of beer and when it was time to come home, I, being the youngest, got the job of driving, I drank more than the other two but I was still more sober, and they were 1 or 2 years older than me. Well, we got home safe and we had a great day. That was my first beer and the first time I stole something like that. 

Back to Mom and Dad and how they became Grandma Ann and Grandpa John. Pretty soon Becky was going to have a baby, a little girl. And when she was old enough to talk, she'd need to know who is who. Becky's mom and dad, Connie and Frank, were Grandma and Grandpa, so to distinguish between them and my mom and dad, Baby Charlene called my mom Grandma Ann and my dad Grandpa John and I was Uncle David and my brother was Uncle John. It was a little confusing because she saw us more than she saw her real grandma and grandpa so we had to distinguish the difference

Pretty soon Charlene had a sister, Cindy and she called Mom and Dad Grandma Ann and Grandpa John and when their brother David was born the same thing. So that's how my mom and dad became Grandma Ann and Grandpa John. Becky and her family was like family to us. Becky was the girl my Mom and Dad never had and they loved her. Becky's family loves us as much as we love them. Becky, I am sorry to say passed away from cancer. I miss her so much, she was my sister and we had a great life together.


I remember the day my mom  died, she had been in a coma for almost a month when she died. Becky said to me, "Do you realize that it's your dad's birthday?" That was on Feb. 2nd in 1995. She said "Your dad told your mom it was time to let go." And mom let go and joined my dad on that day, his birthday. I'm still in touch with Charlene and Cindy, but not with David. I love the girls, and I love David too, we're just not in touch with each other. Charlene and Cindy still call me Uncle David and I love to hear it. And when they speak of Mom or Dad it's still Grandma Ann and Grandpa John.


Dad, Mom and Becky, I love you all and miss you so much. RIP all of you.

My DAD

My dad is John Henry Menser Sr. I didn't have my dad very long, I'm not  sure of the exact year but it was around 1975 or 1976, when I lost him, so I would have been only 26 or 27.  Dad had a heart attack and died within hours of having his heart attack. My dad did not have the best health as he grew up. It started with diabetes and something that made him move from Pennsylvania to California in 1953. Then he had some stomach problems and hernias, which caused him to have approximently 80% of his stomach removed. Then eventually the diabetes caused him to have his big toe removed and that didn't take care of the problem so they had to remove his leg just below the knee. But that's really enough sad things about my dad's health.

My dad was not a very large man. He was about 5 foot 4 inches and at his prime he weighed about 180. That went down as his health went down. He grew up in Franklin Pennsylvania. When he was 9 he lost his dad and he had to help his mom raise his brother and sisters. I don't remember but I think he had one brother and two sisters that were alive when I was a kid. If he had more I don't know for sure. Either I don't remember, or they died when I was very young. As a kid my dad had to walk to school, and I remember that he had to walk 9 miles and in the winter it was in the snow. And of course he had to hike uphill BOTH ways.


My dad was in WWII and served in the Army as a Sargent. I remember some of his stories that he told us about being in the war. He told me a story about a rifle he got from a German sniper he had killed. Dad was a marksman so the rifle came in handy. One day a brand new Lieutenant came by where Dad and some others were resting and he told my dad that he had to confiscate all enemy weapons. My dad told him he wasn't getting the rifle. The Lieutenant said he would go on report. So my dad took the rifle and grabbed it by the barrel and wrapped it around a tree, scope first. Now the rifle was ruined and wasn't any good, either as a weapon or as a souvenir. My dad said, "Here you can have it now!" The Lieutenant said, "I don't want it now." He only wanted it for himself my dad told us. After it was broken he didn't want it and if it was really to be confiscated they would take it even if it was broken.


My dad never went into too much detail about his days in the war. But he did tell us some things. One of the stories was during the Battle of the Bulge. His unit was in a three day battle and when it was over, he and two others were the only ones left. He didn't go into details other than he said it was h*ll. Another story that he told us was about a newspaper clipping from his home town paper. He had made cherry pies at Christmas time and took them up to the guys up at the front. 

I don't remember any other stories, but I do know that he earned the Bronze Star, for what I don't remember. He also was wounded and received the Purple Heart, again I'm sorry but I don't remember how he was wounded. 

But my dad did bring home one souvenir that I kinda wish I had just as a remembrance of his time in Europe and the war. He brought home a German banner, it was about 3 to 4 feet wide and about 7 to 9 feet long. It was a black swastika on a white circle with red on each ends. What a cool thing to have, I know there will be some who think that this is not a cool thing and it's something that reminds us of a troubled time in our lives and that's true, but it is part of our history even if it's a very dark part of our history. I don't have it and I want people who read this to know that if I did have it, it would not have been a symbol of something wonderful but something that was bad but still part of our history just the same. That's all about that.


My dad had different jobs over his lifetime. He worked for the Joy Mfg. Co. in Pennsylvania. This was a company that made mining equipment for the coal mining industry. But when his health made him move to California he became a mailman. He had that job for about 3 years and then his back and feet made him quit that job. Then he became a cook. He cooked for restaurants very similar to Denny's and he also did some cafeteria work at Lockheed. Those people at Lockheed loved him, especially when he was making BBQ beef sandwiches, they always sold out of those sandwiches. Also on Fridays he made clam chowder and he usually ran out of clam chowder also. After my dad's health went downhill in the mid sixties he had to quit being a cook and even working completely for a few years. After some long stays in the hospital he had to learn a new profession. He also couldn't go back to work unless he went to Goodwill and learned a new trade and see if he was able to work for a full 8 hours.


At Goodwill he learned how to operate a Eubanks machine. This was an electric and air operated machine that was to measure, cut, and strip the ends of wire. This machine was capable of different lengths of wire, it could cut it 6 inches long, 8 inches even 2 feet or longer, just about any length. The ends could be stripped like an 1/8", 1/4", 1/2", even 1". I think that was the longest you could strip off the ends. An interesting piece of machinery. After learning how to operate the Eubanks machine, his doctor and Goodwill said that he could go back to work full time. Goodwill offered him a job and he went to work for them operating a Eubanks machine. After about 5 years with Goodwill he got another job for a company that had 2 Eubanks machines. It was more money and closer to home. He took the job and work there until he retired in 1974.

My dad loved to fish and he actually got his picture in the San Jose Mercury Newspaper. We had taken John's 17 foot runabout out in the San Francisco bay for a day of fishing for stripers. We launched  the boat from the ramp at Coyote Point Recreation Area.  We were going to fish near the approach lights for the airport. They had lights that went into the bay and we had fished there before and caught stripers so we wanted to try our luck again. After about 4 hours of nothing, we finally got a few bites and caught a couple of leopard sharks. We decided to move the boat and try another spot. Dad suggested we try over by the harbor. So we drove over and anchored just outside the harbor. We baited our lines with filleted sardines. We were there for about 30 minutes when Dad hooked a fish. We didn't know what it was, but we knew it was BIG by the way the fishing rod was bending. After 45 minutes of fighting this fish my dad was getting tired but he didn't want to give up. Finally he got the fish close to the boat and we knew he had a monster. Since he was getting the fish closer to the boat, we knew the fish was getting tired. After another 20 minutes Dad got the fish close enough to the boat so that I could net it. When we wrestled the fish into the boat we couldn't believe what Dad had caught. If we had been out in the ocean it would be one thing, but to catch this huge fish in the San Francisco Bay, that's something else. After fighting this fish we were done for the day, so we lifted anchor and drove the boat back to the ramp  where we got the car and trailer and loaded up. When we got our car and trailer squared away, we finally got to weigh our catch. He weighed in at a whopping 42 pounds. This was huge, so we went home, which was in  Mountain View, and we called the San Jose Mercury Newspaper and asked if they wanted to have a picture of a 42 pound striper for the paper. They said yes but to do that we would have to come to the papers office in San Jose. So we drove to the papers office car, boat and fish in tow. They had a photographer come out and take a picture of my dad hefting his 42 pound catch. You could tell how proud my dad was. and I didn't blame him.

Some of the things that I remember about my dad were centered around Christmas. (Any small children you might be reading this to have them leave the room, we don't want to spoil Christmas for them.) My dad loved to do things that made John  and me believe about Santa more than most kids. One of those things was that he would go back in the house when we were going over to our cousins house on Christmas eve and he would put out the presents that were from Santa so when we got back from our cousins house everything was there. We didn't know what was going on until we were older but that was so cool at the time. I also remember the year we had found a present hidden in the garage. When it wasn't under the tree on Christmas morning, John and I knew our dad had forgotten that he had hidden it in the garage.  John and I knew it was there so now we had to figure out how to get it. Well we came up with the plan that John would tell Mom and Dad that I sure wanted a Carom game and that I was disappointed that I didn't get it. When John told them that, they remembered the game and that it was in the garage and Dad went and got it.

My dad was pretty awesome I just wish I could have had him around a little longer. Here is a picture of Dad and Mom, taking a walk downtown during their dating days.

My MOM

Let's see, I've known my mom for 46 years, why not the 63 years that I've been alive? That's because my mom passed away in 1995, and I was 46 years old. Actually when I think about it and do the math, I was not yet 46. I would be 46 in April and she passed in Feb. of 1995.

My first real memory of my mom was when we moved to California from Pennsylvania. We flew on  a plane with these big 4 prop engines. This was in 1953 and we didn't fly in a jet. I don't remember if they even had jets for commercial airlines. Mom was so nice to me and my brother John. My dad was already in California so it was my mom's job to get us to California. While on the plane we got to visit the cockpit, which was something they did back then, for a lot of the kids that flew for the first time. Nowadays they don't allow that, with hi-jacking and other problems. Mom was great, she kept us quiet with some games and also got us to take naps.

My next real memory was not a pleasant one. I stuck her car keys in a wall socket. This was way before all the baby-proofing and socket protectors they have now. She got so mad at me, she sent me to my bedroom and I was told to stay there until my dad got home. He'd be home at 5:30 and it was about 3:00 when I made my big mistake. She was actually more scared than mad. She was afraid that I could have killed myself so she wanted me to learn my lesson. When dad got home he gave me a spanking. This was back when parents spanked their children, well some did and mine followed that rule. So I got my spanking and to tell you I don't think I was ruined by it and I think I'm pretty normal. And I learned my lesson. I never stuck the keys in the socket again.

I think most of my memories are good ones but I do have some that are questionable. Those usually are funny now, and people like to hear those stories over the others. I remember the year it was Christmas and Mom had most all of the shopping done and she even had the presents wrapped. Well I came up with the idea that I could open the presents very carefully and then re-seal them and no one would be any wiser. So I told my brother my brilliant plan. He said that we shouldn't do this but I said lets just do one and that mom won't find out. He agreed and I went into my mom and dad's bedroom where she had our presents stacked in a corner. I grabbed a small box that obviously held a watch, but since I was 11 years old and John was 13, it could have been anything. There were two of them, matching in size and weight. So I opened up the two boxes, one for me and one for John. There were beautiful gold watches inside with metal stretch bands. They were self-winding and even had the date on the face. They were very nice and really modern. After John and I looked at the watches for a while and tried them on we put them back in the box and re-wrapped them. Mom and Dad worked and wouldn't get home until after 5:00 PM. It was about 1:00 PM, so we had plenty of time to cover up our deed. We got them wrapped back up and kind of hidden at the bottom of the pile of presents. They were safe for about a week. Then one night Mom was in her bedroom, checking the pile of presents and she spotted those two tell-tale boxes.

Mom was sitting on the end of her bed when she called me and John into the bedroom. She was sitting there holding the two watches in her hand, their bad wrapping job incriminating us with each passing second. She asked us who opened the presents. At first we said we didn't know. And then we wanted to know why she thought we did anything with the presents. She looked at us and held up these rather badly wrapped boxes, matching in size and weight. The paper was wrinkled and creased, rather than nice and smooth like when she wrapped them. She asked us about that. I said, "The paper got wrinkled from the other presents sitting on top of them. " Mom replied, "That's not what happened, I can tell that these were opened and re-wrapped."  and she showed us where the paper and tape was messed up. So again she asked, "Who opened these?" Again we said we didn't know. She kept after us, asking us if we were lying and what happened. I then came up with a brilliant scenario. "Mom, maybe someone came in the window and opened the presents and then re-sealed them." She looked at me with total shock. I know now that she must have been just dying trying to hold back the laughter. She then said, "David, do you really think that someone would break into our house and open your presents?" I thought about it and I didn't know what to stay and how to avoid any more trouble. Mom then said, "Don't lie to me." I looked toward her but not in her eyes and said, "Mom someone must have come in here and opened them and closed them back up." She finally hit me with the killer statement, "David, do you think some stranger would come in here and open the presents and see these new pretty watches and not take them?"  She had me, I was caught. I knew I was in big trouble now, what a lame excuse. I knew she was going to be madder about my lying rather than what I did. I won't go into what happened after that. Let's just say that my  silly explanation at 11 years old, wasn't nearly as brilliant as I thought it was.

One of the things that I remember most about my mom is seeing her, year after year, sitting in her rocker in the living room, watching TV and crocheting. She made so many afghans for family and friends. We had so many friends that over the years have gotten married and Mom would make them an afghan for a wedding present. She did this for two reasons. The main reason was for the love of making something for them. The other reason was because it was not as expensive as buying something from a store. As she made these afghans I asked her if she would teach me how to crochet. She did and I loved it. It gave me something that my mom and I had in common.  As I got older and I got better at crocheting I began to take over making the afghans because Mom had Rheumatoid Arthritis in her wrists and hands and she could no longer crochet. The thing I loved about me making the afghans now was that I still had mom to help me if I ran into trouble. 

Mom's always been the type of person that has to keep busy and crocheting was perfect for her. But now she had to find something else she could do with the limited use of her hands. She discovered she could make Christmas ornaments out of plastic canvas  and embroidery floss. She would make all kinds of Christmas ornaments: Christmas tree, Snowman, Angels, Bells, all kinds of things. She also taught herself how to put names or initials on the angels and on a little toy soldier. She sold a lot of those over the years and she gave a lot of them to friends. For friends, she would make angels for girls and the toy soldier for boys and she would put either names or initials on them. 

Mom has been gone for 17 years now. But it still makes me cry if I happen to get in touch with someone that I haven't talked to in a while, and they tell me that they still put their angel or soldier on their Christmas tree every year and it reminds them of my mom and how much they loved her. And that reminds me how much I LOVED her.

That's just a little bit about my mom, bless her heart.