.
Family lore is that Raymond, and his wife Esther, moved to Denver from Las Vegas, NM around 1927. They worked as a husband-wife team. He was a cook and she worked in housekeeping at various hotels near the Denver Union Train Station. They were married on Feb 4, 1913 at Our Lady of Sorrows Church in Las Vegas, NM.
When the babies arrived, Esther tended the house and Grandpa worked as a cook on the trains going from Denver to New Mexico, etc.
They lived at 2639 West Holden Place, in an old Jewish neighborhood. There was a Jewish Synagogue next door, called Congregation Keles Jacob at 2715 West
Holden Place.
Their house had been built, either in whole or partially, by Grandpa.I remember the kitchen floor had a distinct downhill slant until their son, Adolf, remodeled the place. I can still see my Grandfather's razor strap hanging behind the kitchen door. (He shaved with a straight razor for years before going to a safety razor).
My Grandpa never learned to drive, so Grandma drove her Willys-Knight auto doing errands, transporting the kids, etc.
Grandma and Grandpa worked the plot where they lived and built several, attached bungalows in the back. The flood of June, 1965 missed their house by 1/2 block, else it would have been washed away by the overflown Platte River.
In 1966, we lived in one that had had been joined together inside.
Two rooms, two adults and four kids. Most of our clothes hung on a pole in the doorway leading into the bathroom. Heat was provided by a single, gas heater in one room. In the winter time, where my mom and step-dad slept, the room was too hot and where we kids slept, one could almost see their breath. Fun times and good memories.
"Uncle Jesus" lived in an adjoining shack and cooked on a wood burning stove. Years later I learned that this strange, but interesting man was my Grandfathers brother, who had fallen on hard times.
Grandpa was a carpenter, bricklayer, builder, painter, gardener, plumber, cook and Jack-of-all-trades. He taught me how to use a carpenters plane, hand saw, hand drill bit, chisel, screwdriver and how to drive/remove a nail with a claw hammer. Simple things, but not taught to kids much these days.
Their vegetable and flower garden was tended with great care and yielded corn, carrots, turnips, radishes and the best tasting rhubarb. Flowers were everywhere and the garden was the pride of the block. Neighbors would bring friends by to admire the miniature Garden of Eden.
When Grandma died in 1976, he died inside too. I remember sitting on the outdoor, double swing with him, both of us enjoying the afternoon and the gentle weather. He burst into sobs of grief and lamented his wife's passing. He died the following year. That was the only time I ever remember him crying.
I was a career soldier and left home in 1968, however, I always made it a point to stop by and visit regularly when home on leave.
As the years slipped by, it was sad to see their house and garden, which in the past had been tended with so much loving care, wither and slip into neglect and grey disrepair.
I have fond memories of them, waiting at their gate and waving goodbye as I drove off on my life's adventures.
The house is long gone, but not the cherished memories.
I will see them when my time has come and we can tend the garden once more.
Family lore is that Raymond, and his wife Esther, moved to Denver from Las Vegas, NM around 1927. They worked as a husband-wife team. He was a cook and she worked in housekeeping at various hotels near the Denver Union Train Station. They were married on Feb 4, 1913 at Our Lady of Sorrows Church in Las Vegas, NM.
When the babies arrived, Esther tended the house and Grandpa worked as a cook on the trains going from Denver to New Mexico, etc.
They lived at 2639 West Holden Place, in an old Jewish neighborhood. There was a Jewish Synagogue next door, called Congregation Keles Jacob at 2715 West
Holden Place.
Their house had been built, either in whole or partially, by Grandpa.I remember the kitchen floor had a distinct downhill slant until their son, Adolf, remodeled the place. I can still see my Grandfather's razor strap hanging behind the kitchen door. (He shaved with a straight razor for years before going to a safety razor).
My Grandpa never learned to drive, so Grandma drove her Willys-Knight auto doing errands, transporting the kids, etc.
Grandma and Grandpa worked the plot where they lived and built several, attached bungalows in the back. The flood of June, 1965 missed their house by 1/2 block, else it would have been washed away by the overflown Platte River.
In 1966, we lived in one that had had been joined together inside.
Two rooms, two adults and four kids. Most of our clothes hung on a pole in the doorway leading into the bathroom. Heat was provided by a single, gas heater in one room. In the winter time, where my mom and step-dad slept, the room was too hot and where we kids slept, one could almost see their breath. Fun times and good memories.
"Uncle Jesus" lived in an adjoining shack and cooked on a wood burning stove. Years later I learned that this strange, but interesting man was my Grandfathers brother, who had fallen on hard times.
Grandpa was a carpenter, bricklayer, builder, painter, gardener, plumber, cook and Jack-of-all-trades. He taught me how to use a carpenters plane, hand saw, hand drill bit, chisel, screwdriver and how to drive/remove a nail with a claw hammer. Simple things, but not taught to kids much these days.
Their vegetable and flower garden was tended with great care and yielded corn, carrots, turnips, radishes and the best tasting rhubarb. Flowers were everywhere and the garden was the pride of the block. Neighbors would bring friends by to admire the miniature Garden of Eden.
When Grandma died in 1976, he died inside too. I remember sitting on the outdoor, double swing with him, both of us enjoying the afternoon and the gentle weather. He burst into sobs of grief and lamented his wife's passing. He died the following year. That was the only time I ever remember him crying.
I was a career soldier and left home in 1968, however, I always made it a point to stop by and visit regularly when home on leave.
As the years slipped by, it was sad to see their house and garden, which in the past had been tended with so much loving care, wither and slip into neglect and grey disrepair.
I have fond memories of them, waiting at their gate and waving goodbye as I drove off on my life's adventures.
The house is long gone, but not the cherished memories.
I will see them when my time has come and we can tend the garden once more.
.
Family lore is that Raymond, and his wife Esther, moved to Denver from Las Vegas, NM around 1927. They worked as a husband-wife team. He was a cook and she worked in housekeeping at various hotels near the Denver Union Train Station. They were married on Feb 4, 1913 at Our Lady of Sorrows Church in Las Vegas, NM.
When the babies arrived, Esther tended the house and Grandpa worked as a cook on the trains going from Denver to New Mexico, etc.
They lived at 2639 West Holden Place, in an old Jewish neighborhood. There was a Jewish Synagogue next door, called Congregation Keles Jacob at 2715 West
Holden Place.
Their house had been built, either in whole or partially, by Grandpa.I remember the kitchen floor had a distinct downhill slant until their son, Adolf, remodeled the place. I can still see my Grandfather's razor strap hanging behind the kitchen door. (He shaved with a straight razor for years before going to a safety razor).
My Grandpa never learned to drive, so Grandma drove her Willys-Knight auto doing errands, transporting the kids, etc.
Grandma and Grandpa worked the plot where they lived and built several, attached bungalows in the back. The flood of June, 1965 missed their house by 1/2 block, else it would have been washed away by the overflown Platte River.
In 1966, we lived in one that had had been joined together inside.
Two rooms, two adults and four kids. Most of our clothes hung on a pole in the doorway leading into the bathroom. Heat was provided by a single, gas heater in one room. In the winter time, where my mom and step-dad slept, the room was too hot and where we kids slept, one could almost see their breath. Fun times and good memories.
"Uncle Jesus" lived in an adjoining shack and cooked on a wood burning stove. Years later I learned that this strange, but interesting man was my Grandfathers brother, who had fallen on hard times.
Grandpa was a carpenter, bricklayer, builder, painter, gardener, plumber, cook and Jack-of-all-trades. He taught me how to use a carpenters plane, hand saw, hand drill bit, chisel, screwdriver and how to drive/remove a nail with a claw hammer. Simple things, but not taught to kids much these days.
Their vegetable and flower garden was tended with great care and yielded corn, carrots, turnips, radishes and the best tasting rhubarb. Flowers were everywhere and the garden was the pride of the block. Neighbors would bring friends by to admire the miniature Garden of Eden.
When Grandma died in 1976, he died inside too. I remember sitting on the outdoor, double swing with him, both of us enjoying the afternoon and the gentle weather. He burst into sobs of grief and lamented his wife's passing. He died the following year. That was the only time I ever remember him crying.
I was a career soldier and left home in 1968, however, I always made it a point to stop by and visit regularly when home on leave.
As the years slipped by, it was sad to see their house and garden, which in the past had been tended with so much loving care, wither and slip into neglect and grey disrepair.
I have fond memories of them, waiting at their gate and waving goodbye as I drove off on my life's adventures.
The house is long gone, but not the cherished memories.
I will see them when my time has come and we can tend the garden once more.
Family lore is that Raymond, and his wife Esther, moved to Denver from Las Vegas, NM around 1927. They worked as a husband-wife team. He was a cook and she worked in housekeeping at various hotels near the Denver Union Train Station. They were married on Feb 4, 1913 at Our Lady of Sorrows Church in Las Vegas, NM.
When the babies arrived, Esther tended the house and Grandpa worked as a cook on the trains going from Denver to New Mexico, etc.
They lived at 2639 West Holden Place, in an old Jewish neighborhood. There was a Jewish Synagogue next door, called Congregation Keles Jacob at 2715 West
Holden Place.
Their house had been built, either in whole or partially, by Grandpa.I remember the kitchen floor had a distinct downhill slant until their son, Adolf, remodeled the place. I can still see my Grandfather's razor strap hanging behind the kitchen door. (He shaved with a straight razor for years before going to a safety razor).
My Grandpa never learned to drive, so Grandma drove her Willys-Knight auto doing errands, transporting the kids, etc.
Grandma and Grandpa worked the plot where they lived and built several, attached bungalows in the back. The flood of June, 1965 missed their house by 1/2 block, else it would have been washed away by the overflown Platte River.
In 1966, we lived in one that had had been joined together inside.
Two rooms, two adults and four kids. Most of our clothes hung on a pole in the doorway leading into the bathroom. Heat was provided by a single, gas heater in one room. In the winter time, where my mom and step-dad slept, the room was too hot and where we kids slept, one could almost see their breath. Fun times and good memories.
"Uncle Jesus" lived in an adjoining shack and cooked on a wood burning stove. Years later I learned that this strange, but interesting man was my Grandfathers brother, who had fallen on hard times.
Grandpa was a carpenter, bricklayer, builder, painter, gardener, plumber, cook and Jack-of-all-trades. He taught me how to use a carpenters plane, hand saw, hand drill bit, chisel, screwdriver and how to drive/remove a nail with a claw hammer. Simple things, but not taught to kids much these days.
Their vegetable and flower garden was tended with great care and yielded corn, carrots, turnips, radishes and the best tasting rhubarb. Flowers were everywhere and the garden was the pride of the block. Neighbors would bring friends by to admire the miniature Garden of Eden.
When Grandma died in 1976, he died inside too. I remember sitting on the outdoor, double swing with him, both of us enjoying the afternoon and the gentle weather. He burst into sobs of grief and lamented his wife's passing. He died the following year. That was the only time I ever remember him crying.
I was a career soldier and left home in 1968, however, I always made it a point to stop by and visit regularly when home on leave.
As the years slipped by, it was sad to see their house and garden, which in the past had been tended with so much loving care, wither and slip into neglect and grey disrepair.
I have fond memories of them, waiting at their gate and waving goodbye as I drove off on my life's adventures.
The house is long gone, but not the cherished memories.
I will see them when my time has come and we can tend the garden once more.
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