This blog needs a dedication. There are quite a few people I could dedicate it to, including my sweetheart, my son and my brother, among others. My teacher, Miyoko Watanabe is another. I happened to unexpectedly see the picture of someone I hadn't seen for a long, long time and realized this is the person I want to dedicate this blog -- to dedicate it to this definitely unsung hero of mine -- my grandfather, William Perthy Bradshaw.
1898-1967
He was a waterman from Poquoson, VA, and a fisherman in Portsmouth, but that didn't keep him from being impeccably dressed, even elegant. His work clothes were all khaki -- pants, shirt and hat -- always clean and freshly pressed. I believe he might have even changed when he came home for lunch. He often wore a suit with a vest, tie and a fedora hat. Even in the summer, he kept his jacket on because a gentleman should never go around in his shirt sleeves. He always wore nice shoes. Something like this:
or this
Granpa had a fine collection of pens, one of which I have. It's the only thing I have. My brother saw some letters he had written, and said that he was a wonderful and eloquent writer. I never saw him writing, but maybe by the time I lived with my grandparents, he might have been past that.
One thing that was always present was his cigar (or "see-gar" as we said).
There's a picture of him visiting Alaska, holding a salmon that he caught with his bare hands (one hand) -- and the see-gar in the other!
(I'm going to upload it later.) I wasn't there, but I can believe it! I was there when he caught a spikey puffer fish. He tickled its belly so I could see it blow up -- and then threw it back, because it was the fish Japanese call fugu, very poisonous.
