"I Hated My Grandfather Ever Since"

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Years ago I met a man in Key West who contracted with an estate to operate a parking lot. It was three-quarters of a block from the heart of downtown and the main drag of Duval St.

I have a tendency to say hello to all sorts of people, particularly the ones that others ignore. I look at it this way, someone has to help make their day a little better.

He was a bit of a malcontent. He grumbled about this person or that business, but it was more of a mumble and he never quite explained why he was unhappy. Over the period of the few weeks before his contract ran out and a Miami-based parking lot company took over, we had an occasional chance to chat when he was not busy and I did not have some appointment to go to.

He didn’t actually park cars. He just took drivers’ money at the lot’s permanently opened, chain-link gate and directed them to a parking space. He wouldn’t let them walk out if they took up two spaces.

He was a confessed alcoholic and had no problem with that. Not a twinge of guilt was on his face when he talked about it. He spent most of his days recovering from a hangover.

He was not a corny alcoholic who wore a T-shirt that stated: “I’m not an alcoholic, I’m a drunk. Alcoholics go to meetings.” Perhaps it was because the money could be better spent on a bottle of booze.

He was a Florida man, born and bred in one of those beach-side, coastal cities, like Fort Lauderdale (but it wasn’t). He was in his late teens during Prohibition. He told me that by the early 1940s he saved about $15,000.00.

That is a bundle of bucks for a 19 year-old kid with no skilled-trade or profession to have back then. He never said how he made it. But I suspect he worked for rum-runners, or as delivery boy for white lightning or local beer.

He wanted to use his money to get into a business. But he told me his grandfather would have nothing to do with it. “And,” he added, “he made me buy a piece of land. I have hated him ever since for it.”

I thought to myself it must have been a bad deal for this guy to hate his grandfather for so long. I could have left it at that, but my curiosity got the better of me.

So I asked him, “Where was this?”

“Fort Lauderdale Beach (actually another city).”

“And?” I asked.

“I got married and my wife and I rented it to a Holiday Inn. I raised my kids with the income from it, and the boys are supporting their families with it now.

I hated my grandfather ever since,” he repeated, as if to emphasize what he already said.

I could not ask him how he could hate his grandfather for doing him such a favor. Not because I did not want to, but cars started to come in that wanted parking, and some guy was disputing the time when he was leaving.

There would be another time to ask. I dashed off to be late for an appointment, hurried down the block, passed the Bull and Whistle and headed for Sloppy Joes.

I returned a few days later, to get an answer to the riddle of how someone could despise a person for doing them a big favor like that.

New management was there. He was gone.

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Photos

Southernmost Point in the U.S.
Southernmost Point in the U.S., Key West, Florida. The resort at the end of the road.

Comments

[Pamela Cuadros]

You gotta have your feet on the ground, and appreciate things in life. Great words Christian, keep it up. Best regards, Pam.

[lor]

grandfathers..
maybe he simply had other dreams...like to travel

[theamberroad]

Thank you for your thought, and I mean that sincerely. I think you have helped me answer the riddle. ------- He did say business. Could have been the travel business, which in those days was lucrative. ------- But the degree of the malcontent was huge. If we match that degree, which was all-encompassing and all-filling, driving out any other malcontent, against the size of what he did not do because his grandfather would not let him, then that too must be huge. ------- Land was reliable, the stock market was not, at least with its reputation in the late 30s and early 40s. If we look for a match of the extent of the grandfather's vehemence against what could have deserved that vehemence, I find an investment in the stock market that ended up being phenomenally successful. ------- This poses the question, what was cheap then that a young man with a half a barn full of money could have bought that would have put an investment in land of a Florida beach hotel to shame? What could possibly have made that look like a confoundingly poor decision? ------- Knowing what I know about the man and another man who lived nearby, for me there is only one answer: the purchase of Standard Oil stock. ------- I do not know about you, but missing that opportunity could very well drive me past the bottle directly to the barrel. You know how people drink to forget? I am not too sure if you can drink enough to forget that. ------- I will give one of those class-room gold stars to the person out there in travel land who can guess what town the then young man lived in, and the name of the man who lived nearby who might have inspired him to invest in that company. ------- A clue: you could say the man who lived nearby served as what might be called the quintessential example in that regards. Quintessential. So much so as to make Donald Trump look like he sits in the chauffeur’s seat, not the driver’s seat. ------- For those of you who know a little about the history of Florida resort towns should be able to get this. -------