George R. Grosz was a helluva man. Born in 1896, died in 1969, barely 73 years old. He was born in Sardis, Pa., the oldest of five kids. On his shoulders fell the duty of assisting in the support of the family. His father was Henry, Mot:her Annie, then Roy, Clara, Florence and Floyd, I think in that order. At age 14 George left school to work in the coal mine, a 12 hour day; he said he learned to sleep while walking to work, or back. Then oil wells, gas line company, I don't know what all. He served in World War I in France, earned a couple of stripes, much to his chagrin, and contacted measles at a time when his unit moved into combat. Boy, am I glad!
He returned from the war to a hero's welcome at the McDowells, well, one of them anyway; a youngster named Ida Kathryn., (Excuse the Ida, Mom, couldn't resist). She was from a wealthy family; the landed gentry and the oldest girl of seven kids. She, like dad, had the burden of raising the youngsters and while she didn't dig coal, she carried a lot of it for the fireplaces. Her father was George, mother Sophia, then Norman, Florence, Ruth, Alice, John and Wilson. John died before I was old enough to remember, but this is an autobiographical sketch. I am not expected to do a genealogy. Right? Thanks.
They married. The next ensuing years are, of course, vague to me but finally they had a daughter which, much to her later disgust, they named Dorothy Belle. That was midyear 1926. Then in 1928 there was another girl named Grace who succumbed at 10 months to the absence of the medical arts of the day.
And now the story begins. Not that the characters you've met will not reappear, they will, its just that I don't want you to get them in a character position I can't get you out of. Its early.
Sagittarius arose and shortly thereafter on November 30, of that great year 1930, (Sure it was) the blessed event came to pass. Now there was a substational difference between the first coming and the event that occurred nineteen hundred and thirty years later. The second was not supposed to happen. That's one of the differences. There are others.
About two years later, dad decided to farm the old Reiter place. That place was at the other end of the. pasture field from my birthplace and had been owned and built by some ancestor of my mothers and mine too, I guess. I don't know how long the farm stayed in the Reiter family, but its been in The Grosz family since 1932 either as tenants or owners. That'll sink your roots, Clyde.
The house, I am informed, was build about 1830 and the barn cornerstone says it was built in 1896. They built em to last in them days.