Big George Gruber was up early one Friday morning on July 31st to get ready to go to work. George was usually a night watchman for the Brunswick Hotel, but they had recently asked for him to work days, as well as nights for just a few hours. Franziska was busy in her kitchen making him a lunch that he could take along with him.
"You better not work tonight George Michael! One day of work is enough….I won't have you work nights like you have been…." Franziska kind of nagged him a little. "You're 68 years old! I think it's high time you start thinking of retiring."
"I'll stop working when I'm dead!" Big George said, with a laugh.
"I seriously think you should slow down a little….I'm not trying to be a nagging little wife. Really." She said, placing her hands on his broad shoulders and smoothed his button down shirt.
"I could think different." He chuckled.
"I love you….that's why…"
"Why you nag me?" George laughed and gave her a peck on the forehead. "Maybe I'll start listening….but for right now, I need to be going."
Franziska gave his arm a little squeeze, gave him his lunch and sent him on his way out the door. "I'll see you tonight at supper, love."
"Sure thing." He said as he started walking down the road.
(
"Mama, can you believe how hot it is today?" Helen groaned, while they were at the kitchen table canning the mulberries they picked up by the woods.
"Yes Helen…" Frances answered her 17 year old daughter, while she was trying to focus more on the canning, than the unbelievably hot weather!
"Mama it feels like it's near 130 degrees!..." She said in disbelief. "I don't even feel like eating tonight!"
"Then we'll just have cold ham sandwiches or something…."
"And a nice cold glass of water…." Helen said. "Water….I feel like a nice cold soak! That sounds just wonderful!" She exclaimed, nearly bolting up out of her chair. "I'll need the larger wash tub…."
"Go…" Frances smiled a little. "I'm nearly finished with the canning."
"You're making some into mulberry jam?" Helen asked.
"Yep….and as hot as it is, I feel I'd like to make some mulberry swirl ice cream."
"Wonderful!" Helen said as she was walking out the door with the wash tub. She walked down the couple of stairs of the summer kitchen and walked over to the well pump and began to pump the handle so she could fill up the wash tub. She saw someone she knew out of the corner of her eye, walking down the hill and she sprinted down their little sidewalk out by the lilac bush and met him.
"Hi Grandpa…" Helen said, giving him a hug and kissed his cheek and turned her head as he kissed her cheek, then she kissed his other cheek and he did the same. It was their normal 'hello' and 'goodbye' ritual he did with all of his granddaughters.
"Moanie!" Big George grinned, using her childhood nickname he gave her. "Such a beautiful young lady."
"Thanks Grandpa…..Isn't it so hot? You're so sweaty already! Then again, I am too!" She chuckled.
"I'm used to hot weather, child." He said, and then changed the subject. "Have you gotten a job yet, young lady?"
"Not yet….But I did get to babysit Pudge and little Butzi the other day for Aunt Nona." Little Pudge was now three and the Gruber's newest addition, Dolores Marie, nicknamed "Butzi" was already a year old now.
"Good!...You should work! Save your money!...And then…."
"Then what?" Helen giggled.
"Then give it to Grandpa." He chuckled.
Helen rolled her eyes and grinned at her Grandpa, knowing he was joking.
"Well, I've got to be going on to work now." He said.
"Love you, Grandpa!" She smiled and hugged him again. "But just wait a moment!" She said digging something out of her skirt. It was a pamphlet for a college.
"What's this now?" He muttered, holding the paper away from him so he could read it, taking his glasses out of his pocket and put them on. "Bayless Business College….Cornelius Bayless, President."
"It's a good school! I want to go there after I graduate next year. I want to be a secretary!" Helen said excitedly, her brown eyes shining with glee. "I haven't asked Mama or Papa yet….I'm just waiting for the right time to ask."
"They need more secretaries, they do." He muttered. "You're as smart as a whip, girl! You can do it."
"Thanks Grandpa." Helen grinned.
"I've got to be going. See you later."
"Bye!" Helen called to him as he left, and she went back to filling up the tub and went inside with it.
(
Big George did his usual routine of patrolling the hallways of the Brunswick hotel, climbing up and down stairs countless times. It was finally his lunch break, and it was such horrible heat, he knew he should get outside and get some water, but he was so hungry! Thinking more with his stomach than his brain, he sat down in the little room and ate his lunch alone. He felt he was getting used to the heat, but awhile later it became a little too hot for him to handle and he became weary. He tried making his way over to the windows and tried to open them but they wouldn't budge an inch!
"Feels like its 140 degrees…..Damn it." He swore. He wasn't sure if the heat was all just the hot weather, or if it was just his high body temperature. He felt very nauseous and soon began gagging there, as he was sitting on the floor. He soon became agitated that he couldn't get up from his spot and get to the door…..he tried to get up but was so dizzy he fell back down and just sat there. He stayed there so long, it seemed he was confused as to where he was and why he was there in the first place! He felt so flushed and hot! His face was red, and yet he wasn't sweating at all. George Gruber felt so confused by now. He thought he saw someone out the windows and through the window on the door. He tried getting up again but stumbled and laid there and soon became unconscious.
No one knows how long George was in that boiling hot room, perhaps it had been hours! A couple of his co-workers thought he had gone home for the day, until a few men were passing by that room and glanced in and saw Big George slumped over on the floor.
"It's George!...C'mon! That don't look good at all!" One of them said and a few rushed in the room.
"George!...George! C'mon buddy, can ya hear us?" A young man who was on the floor at the burly man's side, trying to get him to respond, while another was trying to check his pulse.
"George!" Said the other, while the other man kept on trying to feel a pulse, but couldn't.
"Oh my God…"
"What?" Asked another man, not knowing what was happening at the moment.
"He's dead."
"Heart attack?" The man guessed. "Heat stroke?"
"I'm not a doc…but as hot as it is today, heatstroke is a pretty good bet…but who knows? He could've had a heart attack."
"Dean, go get the doc and he can confirm things…and one of y'all go let the family know….." The man couldn't finish, but they all knew what he was going to say. They were all so solemn as Doc Clark came and confirmed the older man's death. As soon as she heard about it, his widow made it over as quickly as she could. Franziska Gruber was in so much shock and in grief, she held him one last time and began to sob nearly uncontrollably on his lifeless chest, calling out his name.
(
The Lay's were all sitting in the front room when they hear a loud hurried knock at the front door. Frances went and answered it.
"Mrs. Lay….You're the last of your family I've had to contact today. I'm sorry, but I have sorrowful news."
"Yes?" Frances asked, her eyebrows furrowing.
"I'm so sorry…your father…."
Frances stared at the young man, not sure if she wanted to know what he was about to say next.
"Your father's passed away. Of a heat stroke…Today about 1:30 or so, we think…..I'm terribly sorry."
Frances covered her mouth and nose with her hands, as she felt tears well up in her eyes, she turned her face away from the man, not wanting him to see her cry.
"Again,…I'm terribly sorry, Mrs. Lay…Let us know if we can do anything for you."
"Thank you…" She muttered, knowing she couldn't hold the tears in any longer. She heard the man as he left and so she slipped back into the house. Her gaze immediately met her husband's, and she nearly fell into his arms and started crying, and soon her cries became hard, rough sobs.
"Pa…Pa passed away of…of a heatstroke today at work!" She sobbed. Fred held her closer to him as she stood there sobbing. Tears were streaming down Helen's face and Freddy was sitting on the floor with his forehead pressed against his arms. He soon felt tears streak his handsome face, but wouldn't let them see him cry. He was now a young man of the age of 19.
"I can't do this….." Frances muttered. "I just can't do this right now…..I'm sorry you had to see me like this!" She sobbed and ran through her sewing room, into the kitchen and locked herself in the pantry.
Fred gazed in her direction and then looked back at his two children and his 17 year old daughter came to him and wrapped her arms around him.
"It's alright…." He tried to soothe Helen too as she started crying on his chest. "I know it hurts….I know it hurts, but it's alright. We'll all get through this…..You okay?" Fred whispered when she stopped crying.
"Yes Papa." She nodded. Helen hugged him again and then went into her room.
"How are you holding up, son?" Fred crouched down by his son who was still sitting on the floor, both legs stretched in front of him, arms resting on his knees.
"Freddy…" He said again, trying to get him to talk about it all.
"Hard to believe he's gone." Freddy said hoarsely, and felt the tears wet his cheeks. "How's Grandma doing, you think?"
"I'm sure she's okay. I know your Mama will want to be over there as soon as we can." Fred told him, and looked at his son, straight in the eyes. "Now how are you doing?"
"I'm okay…..I'm not a kid anymore you know, Papa." Freddy told his father in a solemn manner.
"I know." Fred smirked and slapped his son on the shoulder. He went through the sewing room and kitchen so he could check on his wife. He rapped his knuckles on the hard wooden pantry door a few times and waited. "Honey…can I come in there, please?" Fred stood there silently and waited for an answer from her, but all he heard was her crying. "It'll be better if you talk about things like this…sweetheart." He whispered. Finally, he just took his little pocketknife and unlocked the pantry door.
"I'm here…You know I always will be when you need me." He whispered and crouched down beside her.
"I just can't believe he's gone…..It's such a shock to everyone!" Frances wrapped her arms around her husband and her head found his chest. And again the tears came. "We saw him just this morning…One moment he's alive and well, and the next you hear he's dead and gone!" She cried and buried her face in his chest. "I just can't believe it!" Frances sobbed.
"I know it's hard to believe…Very hard." Fred said quietly, as tears came to his gray blue eyes. This was his father-in-law! A man who had been like a real father to him. "We'll get through this together…..It'll be alright."
"I don't even know how my own mother is right now!" Frances cried.
"I'm sure John's with her….We can stop by tomorrow and see how she is."
"Early tomorrow. We need to be there." She said, wiping away tears. "I'm so…tired of crying." Frances breathed in and wiped the tears in her brown eyes.
"It's alright to cry…." Fred whispered. "You can't keep it all bottled up inside you."
"I know…I just don't like it that I unleashed it all in front of everyone." Frances said softly, closing her eyes and leaning her head against the wall behind her.
"I don't think it matters. The tears just come and you can't stop them."
A/N: Big George Gruber passed away of a heat stroke on a Friday morning on July 31, 1931 at the age of 68. He usually worked as a night watchman in the Brunswick building, according to the book my Grandpa had written about our family. I was doing research by just looking up the word Brunswick in the Dubuque Encyclopedia and came up with the Brunswick Hotel. The fact that he was a night watchman sort of added up. So I'm thinking he was basically a security guard for the hotel. If I'm wrong, then I'm wrong….but in this chapter it fits! :)
About the time I was beginning to write this chapter, a very close friend of the family passed away. It struck me pretty hard and I stopped writing for almost a week! I just couldn't write! I'd start crying again….But then a friend and fellow writer, Sand 'N Sable, told me to put my hurt in my stories again. So I did and I finished the chapter…finally. Writing how I felt was a lot like Frances' grief in this chapter. I hope you enjoyed it.
George Gruber would always call his granddaughter Helen "Moanie" and he would always say the little saying, "Work! Save your money!...Then give it to Grandpa!" Even the day that he died he had said it. :)
