Stories for My Children

Grandpa Miller a.k.a. My Dad – Part 2

When last we left off, dad was in his heyday at The Sundown; shooting pool and playing poker. Well, as I mentioned, he had a day job. At this point in time I think I was in second grade at H.B. Anderson Elementary in Garden Grove, California.

Dad drove a truck for the old White Front stores that don’t exist anymore.

I don’t know what kind of truck it was, but it wasn’t an eighteen wheeler. It was more like a delivery truck and he stayed local. Quite often, he would take me with him on his deliveries. I loved doing that with him, and he always took me somewhere cool for lunch; a burger joint in Newport Beach, a hot dog stand in Anaheim. It was an adventure to a 7-year old. My dad was a foodie before it was a thing. He loved to eat out. I’ll never forget one particular time, he and mom took me to a nice restaurant called “The Dream Machine”. It’s not around anymore. I’ll never forget what we ordered! It was called the “Viking Feast” and it came out on a huge wooden plank; all kinds of meat and vegetables. You attacked it with your fingers and it was so fun! I felt really special and grown up that night.

Another favorite restaurant was the Trabuco Oaks Steakhouse. It is very famous and still around. They have a strict “no ties” rule and if you wear one inside they cut it off and hang it from the ceiling. It’s a very rustic place with trees growing inside it and amazing food! I can still taste their steak fries!

We went there just as often as we could. The whole family loved it! Then there were the cheapy nights when we went to Pup n’ Taco, a privately owned chain of fast food restaurants in Southern California. They haven’t been around since the 80’s, but the fact that they lasted something like 30-years is amazing to me! The cheapest food I’ve ever had. Possibly the reason I have never liked hot dogs. ๐Ÿ˜‚
Well, enough about food. You probably get now, why I like to eat out so much. I think it’s genetic. ๐Ÿ˜‰

Oh! I just flashed on a memory from the apartments we lived in across from The Sundown and Stater Brothers. Across the parking lot from us there lived a family with several kids, all redheads. One day my brother got in a fight with one of their boys. My Uncle Mavis was visiting at the time (my dad’s uncle. I’ll share more about him in a minute) and he and dad were watching from our apartment door. Keep in mind, these guys are old school country boys. Kids fighting is entertainment to them. Well, the neighbor seemed to be getting the upper hand on my brother so who does Dad send in to help? Me! Fortunately, I was a bit of a tomboy and had no problem with dad’s request. Once I joined in the sisters of the other boy did the same. It was pretty much a free-for-all and I couldn’t say for sure who won, but my memory tells me we did. ๐Ÿ˜‰. Keep in mind too, we were all under 10-years old. Not a lot of injury was inflicted on either side, but Dad and Uncle Mavis had a good laugh.

Uncle Mavis! What a character he was. He was my dad’s uncle so really my great uncle, but we just called him “Uncle”. I loved that man to death! He was loud and boisterous and did magic tricks like the old “watch me pull a quarter out of your ear” trick. He also used to make us these old-fashioned wooden airplane things that he whittled himself. They’re actually called Hui Sticks or Magic Propellor. You rub the stick up and down the notches and it makes the propellor spin.

We were enthralled with them – especially the fact that Uncle Mavis made them. We thought he was magical! He taught me how to play chess and how to float on my back in the pool. He and dad would argue all the taboo subjects; politics, religion, whatever – and they would get LOUD! Uncle Mavis had one of those voices that just naturally projected anyway, so when he actually yelled. Wow! I adored him. Sadly, I lost track of him as I got older and didn’t even know when he passed away. Your Aunt Diana found out what happened to him while doing some of her genealogy research. Apparently, a nephew or somebody lived with him toward the end and wouldn’t let anyone have contact with him. Diana can tell you more of THAT story.

Oh man! I feel like like I could sit here and tell stories all day. Remembering this stuff just brings an avalanche of memories. I should probably write them down while I can still remember them. Like the time I went to a Brownie meeting with a friend from school (still living in the apartments and in second grade). In case you don’t know, the Brownies are a part of the Girl Scouts. Anyway, at that time I rode the bus to and from school. This particular day I took my friend’s bus home with her, unbeknownst to my parents. I don’t remember all the details or how they found out where I was (probably my friend’s mom), but they did and I was in a heap of trouble. The funny thing is, it didn’t even register with me that I might get in trouble for doing this. I was just going home with my friend. Kids! It was a different world back then. We were taught not to take candy from a stranger and that was about the extent of our “stranger danger” training. This wasn’t a stranger though, and my parents never told me I had to come straight home from school – until that day. ๐Ÿ˜‚

Which reminds me of another story, many years later with another little girl. This one wasn’t her fault, but it was a huge scare nonetheless. I was at work one day and my then husband, Art, calls me to tell me that my then 7 or 8-year old daughter never showed up to school. I rush home to find cops at my house wanting a picture of my daughter. I am FREAKING out! Worse case scenarios are running through my head. Almost every police officer in LaPalma was out looking for her. One of those beautiful police officers decides to double-check at school and guess what? Michelle is sitting in her classroom, right where she’s supposed to be. Turns out, she was a few minutes late and the teacher didn’t mark her present! I was fit to be tied and that teacher and principal got an earful! Parenting is such fun! ๐Ÿ˜‚

Okay. I’m done for today. I’m sure there will be more Grandpa Miller stories, as well as stories of many other favorite characters. Until next time!

I love you bunches!

December, 1989ish

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