As a rule, I am not sentimental at all about, well, things. Or much of anything else, for that matter. I tend toward the existential, which has, over the years, gotten me into much trouble with my loved ones, especially those of the female persuasion.
But there are two things that are very special to me, and I want to show you one of them.
On the left is quilt made from my maternal grandfather's neckties. Click on it for a large view. I hung it up today, after wanting to do so for years. It took a while to figure out how to display it without any possibility of damage.
Below on the right is an inset of the quilt, which, if clicked on, will give you a good view of this fantastic thing.
My grandfather was as close to being a great man as our family has produced. Although born in extreme poverty in a holler in western Kentucky, he rose to be mayor of one of its important cities (Center City), and later became the head of what is now the United Mine Workers for Kentucky, leading a major strike in what is sometimes referred to as The Troubles of 1924.
Unfortunately, he lost the strike, grabbed my mother in the dead of night, and escaped north into Indiana. Later he testified before the US Congress about the strike and his role in it (apparently, about why the strike was lost). He stayed out of union politics after that.
He was a natural politician and a lady's man. When he died, there were fifty-five pairs of shoes in his closet and more ties than anyone cared to count. The ties were turned into this quilt by my aunt Jean.
My grandfather, Lonnie Jackson, was a good man, too. He was the first union leader in the mines to treat blacks as equal members, for which he was threatened many times and needed a team of bodyguards. He remembered everyone's name, their spouse's name, the names of their children, and everything else, which is the prime gift a great politician must have. My mother had it, too. Me, I can't remember my own damned name, let alone that of anyone else. When he died, there were four hundred people at the funeral.
I didn't want to go into the hospital for the transplant without having hung up the quilt, even though there are far more consequential things I need to do between now and then. Here's where the quilt hangs in my house today:
Enjoyed you sharing this, that a pretty neat story about your grandfather. I enjoy hereing things like this. Im not a real quilter type person but I do love looking at them. That is a beautiful quilt. Thanks for sharing.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing this story.
ReplyDeleteWhat an amazing quilt! I have quilting friends, and know that most quilts are made to please the female eye. This one of yours, of course, has an appeal to the male audience with such special meaning as the memories of a grandfather. I commend you on sharing and letting others see that sentimental side that all men have, but do not often let others in on. Your grandfather must hold a very touching place in your heart!
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