Wednesday, February 18, 2015

Happy Birthday Daddy

Daddy
91 years ago today, my father made his entrance into the world.  Born in Port Jefferson, Long Island, New York to Harold and Ruth (L’Hommedieu) Eldridge, he was the first of three children. At the age of 2 he moved to Windham, CT, where his parents owned a dairy farm and later a school bus company. I know very little of my father’s younger years, I heard that he was doted on by his maternal grandmother. Frankly, I know more about his extended family; his aunts and uncles than I do about his immediate family. 

He served in WW II, in the Pacific Theater. I remember him telling the story of how the troop ship he was being transported in got caught in a typhoon. Many on the ship got seasick, but he found a group who didn't and played pinochle throughout the storm. He also befriended the cooks on the ship (my father loved to cook as well as eat) and made bread for the multitude on the ship. He and mom loved to tell the story of how when he returned from the service he tried to reduce the bread recipe down to make it. Mom tells me it was wonderful when it was fresh out of the oven, but once it cooled, the bread loaves hardened enough for her to paint and use as a doorstop. Daddy was also a "gourmet" cook, as mom went out to do some gardening, Daddy would fix dinner, beautifully presented.

Hurricane Gloria
Dad worked for the Telephone Company before it became AT&T, loved to camp, fish, and garden. He adored his wife and children and was a good friend to many people. I remember as a child I would wait anxiously to see what Daddy had brought home in his black rounded top lunch box.  Being a cable repairman he would get to stop at a bakery or farm stand, and he would bring home a goody or two.  I loved the summer when I would share in a fresh tomato he had picked up. When I was 18 my parents gave me the opportunity to visit England on a class trip.  I left the evening of Opening Day of Fishing season, but that morning my father and I went fishing together.
Mom & Dad
with my two older siblings


As my supper finishes cooking and I am near the end of this post, I realize I need to spend some time finding photos of my dad and his family. I would venture to guess a day does not pass that something is said or I do something that reminds me of my father. I come from such a rich history, both maternal and paternal; I don’t want future generations to lose what has been given to my siblings and me. Happy Birthday Daddy, I’m so glad you were born!
Daddy with the youngest


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