... uphill in the snow. Then another 30 miles uphill home. But I never knew that we were poor.
My father was a one-legged butcher. His father, a blind seamstress from Scotland, carried him across the ocean in his pocket because they could afford only one ticket. They ate left over bits of bait from the pig English sailors. But they never knew they were poor.
They jumped ship at Ellis Island, where my grandfather met his bride to be, a beautiful young sign painter, who, God bless her, really wore the pants in the family. Sadly, she's been gone 15 years now. I love you, Gram! (If you're listening and can get to a phone, please call home...
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