Thomas Carr Mattatall
He would probably not want me to do this, but too bad. I'm alive and he's dead.
He was my grandfather. He lived from around 1905 to 1973.
He was born in the Boston area and had siblings that he apparently had to raise because his dad died. When he married my grandmother, Helena "Edna" Francis, he had already basically raised a family and had no interest in having one of his own. My grandmother had different ideas. She was a force of nature, so he relented and my mother was born in 1937.
The war broke out for the US in 1941, and he went down to the war department several times, begging to be accepted. He was old already, but finally, they let him in. He went into the US Navy.
He ended up in Hawaii. He was stationed, I'm told, aboard an aircraft carrier, and he saw action in the Pacific theater.
The only stories I have of this period of his life are 1. He watched helplessly as his best friend was killed in a Kamikaze attack, allegedly seeing the plane hit his friend. 2. He was going to move his family to Hawaii after the war and get into the hotel business in Waikiki, but Edna put the kibosh on that. Instead, they stayed in Boston and my aunt was born not long after. My grandfather had only a few close friends during his life. He had a friend who got beheaded in a motorcycle accident. He had that friend who died in the war. He had a dog he had trained with a squirt gun not to chase cars and during the war, the dog was not watched carefully and died chasing a car. When he got back from the war, he never had any close friends again.
He was a hard worker. He walked long distances to his jobs for some reason, and he worked at least two of them. I think it was as a mechanic of some kind. He spent his free time reading encyclopedias.
He was a human being and had his failings. My mother can tell you about that painful chapter.
But he lived a life and I thought it ought to be noticed, at least by me on this little webpage that might sink into oblivion even more quickly than his memory.
He died in 1973 of colon cancer. It was said that he got it from having had to hold his bowel movements for so long in the Navy.
It was a painful death and he was in misery. Perhaps this was his retribution?
I have no memories of him other than his smile, and even that, I am not sure of. It was said that he held me for long whiles, smiling down on me in his leather chair that I once turned into a ship's wheel.
My mother tells me that he had a very dry wit, a wry sense of humor. If ever asked where to put something, he would say, "I'll tell you where to put it."
I wish I had known him. He seems, from my mother's description of him, like the kind of man that I would have got along well with.
I wish I knew more about him.
It is a shame that so many people pass through this world and are forgotten.
I want him to know that I remember him, even if it is only vaguely.
Thomas Carr Mattatall existed and I love him, warts and all.
I love you, Grampa.
The war broke out for the US in 1941, and he went down to the war department several times, begging to be accepted. He was old already, but finally, they let him in. He went into the US Navy.
He ended up in Hawaii. He was stationed, I'm told, aboard an aircraft carrier, and he saw action in the Pacific theater.
The only stories I have of this period of his life are 1. He watched helplessly as his best friend was killed in a Kamikaze attack, allegedly seeing the plane hit his friend. 2. He was going to move his family to Hawaii after the war and get into the hotel business in Waikiki, but Edna put the kibosh on that. Instead, they stayed in Boston and my aunt was born not long after. My grandfather had only a few close friends during his life. He had a friend who got beheaded in a motorcycle accident. He had that friend who died in the war. He had a dog he had trained with a squirt gun not to chase cars and during the war, the dog was not watched carefully and died chasing a car. When he got back from the war, he never had any close friends again.
He was a hard worker. He walked long distances to his jobs for some reason, and he worked at least two of them. I think it was as a mechanic of some kind. He spent his free time reading encyclopedias.
He was a human being and had his failings. My mother can tell you about that painful chapter.
But he lived a life and I thought it ought to be noticed, at least by me on this little webpage that might sink into oblivion even more quickly than his memory.
He died in 1973 of colon cancer. It was said that he got it from having had to hold his bowel movements for so long in the Navy.
It was a painful death and he was in misery. Perhaps this was his retribution?
I have no memories of him other than his smile, and even that, I am not sure of. It was said that he held me for long whiles, smiling down on me in his leather chair that I once turned into a ship's wheel.
My mother tells me that he had a very dry wit, a wry sense of humor. If ever asked where to put something, he would say, "I'll tell you where to put it."
I wish I had known him. He seems, from my mother's description of him, like the kind of man that I would have got along well with.
I wish I knew more about him.
It is a shame that so many people pass through this world and are forgotten.
I want him to know that I remember him, even if it is only vaguely.
Thomas Carr Mattatall existed and I love him, warts and all.
I love you, Grampa.
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