The instruction was to provide an older picture; nothing stated suggests who or what should be the subject. Since my sister Leslie sent me these pictures, along with some of my father, I thought I’d show these.
This is my grandfather, McKinley Green, who I wrote about a few times early in my blogging, here and here and here.
The particulars are lost to me so far, but apparently, McKinley, or Pop as almost called him (the others called him Mac), was my father’s stepfather. He’s not in the picture in the 1930 Census; I’ve seen the records. Yet, my father’s birth certificate, dated 1944, when my father was 18, lists Pop as my father’s father. There was a clear clerical error, however. In the section that lists the age of the parents at the time of my father’s birth, my grandmother’s info is correct, but Mac’s info listed his age in 1944, not my father’s birth year of 1926.
As noted, my grandfather loved going to the track, both for the cars and the horses. Our thing was playing gin rummy, and we played a LOT, especially on Sunday afternoons while watching Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom. And when he was looking for a card, he would often say, “Be there, finakis!” I have no idea what that meant.
Hard to believe he’s been gone 30 years this summer.
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Oh, the baby in the picture above is my eldest niece Becky, my sister Leslie’s daughter.
Hi Roger! It’s been a while, but I just came across your blog here about “Mac.”
Maybe you might remember, I worked with McKinley at WNBF and remember all the incredible stories he would tell many of us. Some of them brought tears to his eyes, and mine also.
I’m sure you know, horse racing seemed to be his favorite. And he’d always tell stories about going to the Bloomsburg Fair. He always used to tell stories about how he would go down to the stables before he would bet on the races.
Seeing him here with this modified also reminded me of the Ford Thunderbird he used to drive around in. Often he’d be outside the station’s garage door, wiping it down.
My last memory of Mac was stopping in at his wake. It was a pretty solemn affair I’m sure for us all. I miss many of the stories he used to tell. Coming from Binghamton, in an era where there was around a 2% Black population, and hearing his experiences during his military service opened my eyes to what he went through. Even back at that time at the wake, I wasn’t sure what to expect or how I would be greeted, but after I paid my respects, someone came over to talk to me, and we spoke briefly.
Your Grandfather was a truly amazing man who lived an incredible life, both the good, and the bad.
Jack