I come from a family of wonderful, crafty people. I have family members who made history. (Literally, Cynthia Ann Parker…Bonnie Parker….Henry Dryer.) Those names are rooted in Texas and National history.
Cynthia was the white mother to Comanche Chief Quanah Parker. Bonnie Parker….well, if know Clyde, you know Bonnie! Henry cofounded Shiner, Texas and founded Dryer, Texas.
I’m so very proud to be in their lineage. I’m proud of my family overall. We all bring amazing, atypical traits to the table. I could write an extremely long blog about each one. My dad is a jewelry maker. My mom can create anything she puts her hands on. The same goes for my sister. My brother is a metal art craftsman. Me, I play with words in a way that is entertaining and empowering.
Today, though, I just want to focus on my grandfather. His name was E.E. Powell. That’s Eunice Eudel Powell. Already, his name makes him not your typical person. On the day Japan attacked Pearl Harbor, my grandfather was your average sixteen year old Texas boy. The attack made him so angry, he went to enlist so he could fight. However, he was underage and needed a parent’s signature in order to join up. Pappaw went out into the street and found a random stranger to sign his mom’s name on the document. He was no dummy! He knew his mama wouldn’t sign it!
Pappaw ended up being in the Air Force as a tail gunner in a B29 Bomber. He was part of the Jolly Rogers and fought in South Pacific. I’ve read his military journal. My grandfather saw a lot of raw, brutal reality before he was twenty years old.
When he finally came home from war, my grandfather met and married my grandmother and put himself through college using the GI Bill. He became an educator. His resume would go on to include everything from being a coach, teacher, principal, to a super intendent.
I did not really know this side of my grandfather’s life. By the time I came along, he was occupied elsewhere due to his dedication to educate children and take care of his family. Here’s where this blog might strike a few unsavory cords. My grandfather did time in prison for tax evasion. He was connected to the Duke of Duval County (again, do your Texas history). The Duke was evil and selfish and instead of owning up to what he did, took the easy way out by ending his life on his terms. My grandfather and, I think, one other person were the only people to stand up and admit to what they did and pay for it as they should have.
I don’t bring this up to cause problems. I bring it up to show how atypical my grandfather was. He was our patriarch. He pushed every single member of his family to do the best they could, to go after what they thought was right, and admit when they did wrong.
I didn’t know about this part of Pappaw’s life until I was an adult. I was born while he served his time. There is a book out there about the event that, while factual, angers me because the author showcased the one blemish on my grandfather’s life by putting his full name in writing. His full unique name. If you read it and knew who my grandfather was, you knew right away it was him the author was referencing.
This event shamed my grandfather. That’s why it was never talked about. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. But, I wish he had. I adored my grandfather for the man I knew him to be. I would not have, and do not love him any less. Why? Because, in his mistake, he believed he was doing right. It wasn’t for selfish gain, it was for the children in his care.
I have said that one day I would write something about my grandfather that showed the positive. I don’t like the fact that there is a book floating around that spins his name in a negative light. I would like to spin the positive back. That author only knew of one thing in my grandfather’s life and because of the higher profile he was connected with decided to write a book that included my grandfather in it. I would like to say shame on him, but I get it as an author.
So, as an author, I’m going to continue my atypical route and write a book about my grandfather. I already have one started. Unfortunately, it’s fiction because every time I try to write a biography I cry. I loved and adored him so much!!!
I’ll be writing about The Boy Soldier. It’s already started! It will be about the man my grandfather was because he was a true man. He had honor and love of others. He had courage, dignity, and morals. Unfortunately, those are no longer typical traits. So, even in death my grandfather is not your typical person and I love him for it!