Posted 28 Jun 2018 by Dr. J the Seeker (His Granddaughter)
Memories of my Dad- from Betty Jane Roelle Raab- February 2006;
My Father, Louis Roelle (he preferred Louie) otherwise known as Grandpa Roelle, was a real "meat & potatoes" man. Literally, he wouldn't touch a carrot, onion, green bean, or any other vegetable, with the exception of an occasional sliced tomato with a bit of sugar and vinegar on it. Thanksgiving and Christmas, he would condescend to a few peas. Aunt Florie (his sister) made a carrot cake and after he ate a piece she told him it was a carrot cake and I thought he was going to choke to death, I think he wanted to.
He was also a "man of few words" although he professed to be a bit knowledgeable in about six languages. I know he could cuss in quite a few his favorite was "sacre mo fitsio" at least that's' what it sounded like to me, I never really heard him use any other cussing than hell or damn which was seldom. He was a Knight of Columbus for over forty years and an active member in the Holy Name Society. He took an Oath never to use the name of Jesus in vain and I never did hear him profane that oath. He was deeply religious but never wore it on his sleeve. Quite often, I would find him sound asleep in his chair and his rosary in his hand.
His middle name should have been WORK! He truly loved to work and indeed he was always ready to go to work on any project that was presented to him and a lot of the time he didn't even need to be asked to help, he would just "pitch in". Especially family but anyone in need, friends and friends of friends at the church and especially his children.
Often, I dream of him laying brick. He would often tell of when he first came to California and had a job laying brick. He called himself a "corner man" that's the guy who lays out the corners so the others can lay them in between. He was a Union Man when he came to Ca. And he quit because he said the guys told him "he had to slow down or they would, knock him off the wall". He was used to laying six hundred brick a day. They told him" no more than four hundred. He laid brick walls and steps and paths from Chicago to California and I'm sure a11 the way to the Throne of God in Heaven.
As a Child I remember him after a hard week's labor would drive our old jalopy, on a Friday evening three or four hour on gravel roads to Pell Lake to work the weekend there. And on Sunday was ready to pitch a worthy game of horse shoes with the neighbors there. Yes, he loved baseball too. My husband Fred never had an interest in any sports much less baseball. But he learned all about baseball, so he could watch it on T.V. with my Dad! They became very close.
My Dad was far more than a Grandfather to my children and I am blessed to have shared so much of his life with them. They lived in his shadow. He taught them more than anyone else the ever knew. Even Fred my youngest child has been blessed to have known him if only the short time they had. He made a seat for Fred next to him on the front seat of his car a metal fishing tackle box that had "first aid" supplies in it.
He always whistled while he worked and sometimes I feel like I can hear him out in front watering and whistling, when I look out the window its' Fred. He had a great yawn. One could hear him "Ho Hum" yawn all the wave though to the second floor.
I still miss him, and I often find myself praying to him, he was indeed a Saint if there ever was one.
My fondest memories are of times our family had during the Great Depression. Our Christmases when every Christmas we wondered if we would even have a Christmas tree. Sure enough somehow Santa always seemed to find one for us. As I grew older and realized who Santa really was, I didn't worry anymore because I knew my Dad would find a way.
I have vivid memories of him taking me to Maxwell St, and Halstead Street shopping. There were stalls and carts much like Tijuana was when I first came to California. He could negotiate because he could speak "the language". I never knew which, he called it Yiddish. Often he and Mom would talk "pig Latin or German" when they didn't want us to know what they were saying. Yes Grandma Roelle as Irish as she was, could speak a Good bit of German.
The trips to Maxwell Street were always an event, just me and Dad, He bought leather jackets for the boys and himself, I had fur coats from ten years old. He would always have the merchant open the hem, so he could see the stamp on the skins.
My Dad was a Laborer but on Sundays and special occasions he would look like a Professional Man. He would always buy a new straw hat from Uncle Mike and Aunt Irene for Easter and a Fedora (felt) one for Christmas. Mary Moore always would see that Ed had gained too much weight and Mom would alter his discarded suit for Dad. Somehow, they always managed to have white shirts. (There was a time when he worked with Aunt Irene as Cashier at the Cafe. ("in the hey days") So he dressed for the occasion, He wore Florshiem shoes and more often than not they had been "half soled". But these were weekend clothes. Mom always saw to it that they were clean and pressed.
His shirts were sent to the Laundry @ twelve cents each he always had to wear them at least twice and the laundry was instructed to use extra heavy starch in the collar. Mom would "turn the collars and cuffs when they showed wear.
Everyone thought we "had the bucks" But, Mom knew how to "stretch a dollar farther than anyone else they knew" But if Dad didn't cooperate it wouldn't have worked.
Then there is the story about the house in Berwyn. During the "great Depression" everyone was losing their homes. Ours was a Two Flat Dad built it! Six rooms each floor. We kept the second floor rented I recall the Shultz family paid $25.00 a month. Moms insisted if we could close in the back porch and turn it into a kitchen and put in a bathroom where the pantry was we could create two four room apartments and two three room apartments.
We'd have to squeeze in to a four room one but they made it work. They rented for $25.00 each and we and the Collins family were the only ones on the block that didn't lose their homes. Dad insisted it couldn't be done after all "he'd built the house". One Friday he came home from work and Mom had used the Pick Axe on the wall and he had to put it back together. He just went about doing it and never complained. Every evening and weekend he worked on it till it was done and what is more. When the Hurleys" lost their home and had no place to go, He created an English Basement Apartment in our Basement for them! (The Hurleys were Uncle Martins' Wife Florence's' family).
God Bless Grandpa Roelle, they don't made men like him anymore.
A couple of his favorites were New York Cherry ice cream, and Cherry pie. (But not Dennys' they don't use enough cherries) One of his favorite sayings was "Three great men were born in February, Lincoln, Washington and Roelle". He was the Greatest, to me.