“Did you have a nice Memorial Day, Mrs. Ross?” Greg, one of the engineers here in my building, asked me as I breezed in last Monday night.
The Men In My Life Sidebar: I live in a Wirtz building. For those of you not familiar with the Wirtz real estate holdings-as opposed to the liquor distributorship and the Chicago Blackhawks- let me tell you what that means.
A Wirtz building is the by-word in service.
In my apartment building, there is Tony- the longtime resident building supervisor. And then there are four full-time doormen and at least seven full-time engineers/maintenance men on duty twenty-four seven.
John, one of the doormen, is truly Johnny-on-the-spot with a helping hand, a Texas twang and myriad historical facts whenever I am in need of them.
And Johnny, one of the other doormen, once kindly tended to a 911 fingernail emergency before I could get to the manicurist.
I have never had to carry my groceries, or deal with one bag of garbage since I moved in. (The garbage is emptied three times a day- even on Sundays.) I’ve never changed a light bulb, turned on my heat for the winter, or fetched luggage or skis from my capacious storage locker.
Which Zee makes sure is aways flood-free and completely organized.
Greg has measured and hung my paintings like a museum curator. He’s added shelves to closets, and built new ones for my living room.
And he’s has dealt with a thorny, intricate installation of Bang and Olufsen space age stereo, too.
And on the coldest day of the year- think twelve below- Marko went out to buy me blue paint for my bedroom ceiling cove. (He even helped me pick out the right shade of blue.)
Oh yeah, (and don’t tell) they’ve repaired earrings, hailed me every cab, worried when I first starting taking Uber, and sometimes, the guys have been pressed into service a time or two, taking off a balky necklace that I couldn’t undo myself.
Eric has mended a wooden cowboy sculpture that had lost one arm in the move from Colorado, and he also did some emergency nailing of an old wooden circus toy that also hadn’t weathered the trip in perfect condition.
And btw, Eric is a subscriber in good standing of Letter From Elba.
That’s what I call full-service.
With all these smiling, cheerful and eager-to-please Mr. Fixits at my disposal, I might never get remarried. Why?
(Not to mention that I signed all the relevant entry papers right in the late Arthur Wirtz’s conference room- loaded with enough awesome Stanley Cup memorabilia to keep even Jerry Maguire happy.)
And that’s I why I live here.
End of time out….
“Fabulous, Greg. I had a great time,” I answered his question. “I just came back from a barbecue with my family. All my favorites- hot dog, burgers and corn on the cob. A very American menu. Did you have a nice day?”
“Oh, yes,” he answered. My wife and I went out to the cemetery. My mother-in-law is there. And an old neighbor, Lenny. We always visit his grave, too. We take him flowers. He was a soldier and the day meant a lot to him.”
Oh.
Now I felt a gentle twinge from my conscience. And before you could say “Oh, Say Can You See,” my mind turned to thoughts of my grandfather.
At ninety-four, the oldest World War I Army veteran in Hines VA Hospital when he finally checked in to check out.
(When I used to visit my grandfather there, I was shocked by the age gap between him and the other resident patients. He was indeed an old man but they were all young- casualties of Viet Nam. I went to visit my grandfather all the time and I never saw these same young guys- trapped in wheelchairs and sadness- being visited by anyone.
Ever.)
Then my thoughts turned to my Uncle Herbie. A dashing member of the Air Force.
Not only did my Uncle Herb serve in World War II, he was recalled for Korea.
He retired from the Air Force as a colonel.
And then there was Navy Chief Petty Officer Ben Roffe. Radarman aboard the USS Shangri- Là, a part of Admiral Halsey’s task force.
My father was right there – fifteen hundred feet away from the USS Missouri when Japan surrendered and signed the peace treaty.
And last but not least, I thought of my ex husband, Mike. Not dead, and still a proud Marine.
True, he had left active duty some time ago, but as he taught me, “There’s no such thing as an ex Marine.”
I smiled as I thought about all these brave guys, and then Greg decided to share something with me.
“You know, that man we took flowers to his grave? Lenny? He was much more than a neighbor. He was such a good friend. When my wife and I first came here from Poland, we couldn’t speak one word of English. Not one word. But our downstairs neighbor, even though he couldn’t speak too much, remembered some Polish from his parents. And even though he was pretty old, he tried to help us as best he could.
But the thing I will never forget is that he came very day to spend time with our son who was just seven months at the time. And Lenny spoke English with him.
This was so important you can’t imagine. Every day he would call my wife and say, ‘How’s my friend? Can I see him today?’ and every day he would come up (he lived in a basement apartment) and visit with my son.
Of course, we tried to help him, too. He had no family left in Chicago, and he didn’t drive anymore, so when my wife would go out, she’d take him or pick up what he needed at the store.
He became like a grandpa. He’d take us out to dinner, and tell us stories about his life.
One day he didn’t call to ‘see his friend.’ My wife was concerned, but she didn’t want to disturb, so she didn’t call him.
The next day, no phone call again. So this time, we went down there, and he was very sick. We took him to the hospital and we’d go visit him, but we could see that it was no good.
His daughter came in from the East Coast and she stayed with him. And then he died.
I was was so sad. To me, this man was like family. And he was so nice to my little boy, Severyn.”
I listened to Greg’s story and understood how important it was for him to honor the memory of the man who- for seemingly no reason at all- took the time and trouble to become an honorary grandfather.
“He sounded like a terrific guy,” I said. “You were lucky to know him.”
“But you know what else, Mrs. Ross?” Greg continued. “After he died, his daughter called me and my wife and asked us to come down to his apartment. She had packed up all the things that her father had left her and was getting ready to go back east.
She was holding a little book and she asked us to sit down.
‘My father wanted you to have this, she said, holding out the little book. I took it and looked. It was a bank book- with six thousand dollars in it.
‘He saved it specially for your son’s college education and he wanted you to have it,’ she explained.
‘I can’t take it,’ I cried. ‘No way can I do that.’
‘But you have to,’ she said. ‘It was my father’s last wish that this money be used to educate your son.’
So we took it, and that’s exactly what we did. We never touched it for anything else, we kept adding to it, and when it came time, Severyn went to college on that money. He’s going to be a junior now- with a double major. This is why we go to the cemetery every year. We honor this man, a veteran who did so much for us.”
I was impressed. What a priceless gift- a college education.
God bless Greg for reminding me what Memorial Day is really all about.
God bless Lenny.
And God bless The Land Of The Free.
There cannot be a dry eye among your readers this morning. What a beautiful story. Your blog enriches my Thursdays and Sundays and is truly a gift to all who read your words.
Thanks Ellen, for reminding us of the meaning of Memorial Day…
Appreciatively,
Sherry
Thank you, Sherry. What a wonderful way to start my morning. Your kind words and support make this all worthwhile. Love to the gang. See you in the ‘hood.
Ellen, a real winner. Forget about a dry eye. Got a large handkerchief ? Allan
Thanks, Allan. This one just wrote itself. Sometimes you get handed a gift. See you soon, I hope.
Beautiful, graceful tribute. Cathartic, which is something only the best can manage. Tears here.
I’m touched by your way with a word, my new friend. BBQ on me next time I’m in LA. Thank you, John.
I accept!
Ok, it’s a date. (And before my readers get too excited, let me add ala Ed Sullivan and The Beatles- “Sorry, girls. He’s married.”)
All I can say is “wow” and that’s not about having someone in your building who hangs shelves (although also nice). Story about Lenny really gave me a smile. Very cool. Thank you for sharing.
Thanks, Arnie. Yeah, you got the gist. (And you’re right. Shelf-hanging is nice. When you have as many books as I do, this is a go-to talent!) Glad you liked this one.
Actually, instead of tears, your blog just rekindled my anger. Not about Vets but rather they way they are treated – specifically in the VA Hospitals. With all of the latest news about their mistreatment in that hospital system, I can only add to the headlines and say I have seen it, been there, and feel we owe them a lot more. My social circles don’t include a lot of Vets from Vietnam, Iraq, or Afghanistan, but I see them in hospitals and I have worked at a VA. We, (the country, the vets, and our national conscience) would all be better off if we just gave them some sort of insurance card and have them get all of their medical care from the health care system that you and I go to.
Right on, Doc! You bet. And what about the vets who don’t live near a major medical center? They’re screwed. No time or $ to get them to proper medical care. I was married for a long time (in Ellen Ross marital years) to a Viet Nam vet. The way those guys were treated was a disgrace. No heroes’ welcomes for them. They were vilified. And no PTSD diagnoses either. They were left to shift for themselves. Disgraceful. Once these brave guys lay down their guns, they get forgotten.
Jimmy,
Just a sign of things to come. Sad……….
Can’t we do anything about this?
Vote out ALL Dems……Local, state and federal!! There, I said it!!
I was only a second hand witness to what Mike felt about his two tours. Harrowing and too private to discuss here. My heart goes out to all the vets.
Ok, if you say so. This is truly a non-partisan, across both aisles issue, if ever there was one.
Interesting. The same Wirtz family let Blackhawk stars Bobby Hull and Jeremy Roenick go elsewhere because of $$$ disputes. The Blackhawks revived almost immediately when Rocky Wirtz took over the team about 6 years ago. Every home game since then has been a sellout. Every game has been televised. GO BLACKHAWKS!!!!
Bill Wirtz was a neighbor of mine in Winnetka . Let’s just say he was set in his ways. The new leadership is doing it right. Go Hawks! Thanks, Herbie.
Ellen,
As a vet myself and stationed at Walter Reed during Nam, I can write a book on what I saw. There wasn’t a soldier, no matter how beat up he was, that said he wouldn’t go back to finish the job!!
None of you have any idea!
Probably the wrong forum but if we are going to vote out all of the Dems – then we are left with no plan and status quo. That is clearly unacceptable. Obama’s plan has its problems but it is a small step in the right direction. Many other countries have better health care statistics than we do. We don’t need to reinvent the wheel. We just need to take the best that the other countries have to offer. In the meantime – I tell all my friends when the subject of health care comes up – “don’t get sick!”
Nope, a good forum. We believe in the “fair and equal time” doctrine on this blog. And that was my very own health care policy when I moved back from Colorado and had problems getting health insurance. “Don’t get sick” was my motto-and thank God, I didn’t.
Sorry……Many nations do NOT have better health care statistics than we do Or, better things to offer.
Uh, I’m not informed enough on this issue to rebut. I took my chances when I defended old man Wirtz. I’m going to have to call for backup.
Better take me off your mailing list. Looks like I create a lot of controversy and getting under people’s skin.
I’ve become very hard core and almost a 180 in my thinking. And, not ashamed of it in the least.
Don’t you dare quit. You’re not going anywhere. This blog is non-partisan!
Just google this subject of U.S. health care versus other nations. Such things as infant mortality, life expectancy, and total health care costs don’t put us in the most favorable light. Yes, we have a lot going for us, but there is a lot to learn from other national health care systems. To think otherwise, is being very myopic.
Those statistics do not take into account the diversity of our nation. It does not take into account our population size and highly demographic makeup of our nation compared to others.
Those statistics do not take into account the 73% out of wed-lock birth and 65% high school drop out rate is so many of our communities.
Sorry, I’ll take our doctors, hospitals, etc over anyone’s.
Just like in any business, no one is the best and least expensive at everything. But, overall, I’ll take ours.
Oh, good. You’re still with us. I told Jimmy to go back to his operation. Turning back to the subject of the post, isn’t it great that we are free to have – and express- our different pov’s? Yes, this is a freedom worth fighting for.
The Wirtz family unfortunately did not run the Blackhawks with the same efficiency they ran their real estate and liquor businesses. My college roommate, an executive with the Boston Bruins, came to Chicago in the summer of 1995 to meet with Hawks execs for insights into how they moved the season ticket holders from the Stadium to the United Center. The Bruins were about to do the same from the old Garden to the new Garden. He was surprised, to say the least, that the Hawks still kept their records on ledger sheets. Just before Bill Wirtz passed away, Forbes named the Hawks as the worst franchise in professional sports, even worse than the L.A. Clippers. Luckily, Rocky chose to do everything differently, and a couple of first-round draft choices also helped.
Yes, Rocky runs the Hawks like he runs my building- first class management. Thanks, Fred. Nice hearing from you. Say hi to Frank. And Go Hawks!
Ellen, what a great blog today – truly both inspirational and heartwarming! Great job and as good as the any such Holiday tributes I saw from big name columnists/commentators.
As an aside related to earlier comments, I thought I would tell a little story. As you know my wife directs NHL Hockey for NBC. She has done every Hawks playoff game this year and is in LA now for tonight’s game (personally I think they have been hurt and out of gas since the Wild series and are winning on heart and fumes. Sadly, I cannot see this continuing and I bet we see several surgeries announced after the playoffs).
During the late 80’s and early 90’s, before she went national, my wife was the Blackhawks TV Director and always felt very well treated by managment and ownership. It was – still is mostly – a high testosterone envirement with few women in leadership roles throughout but Hawks Sr. Mgmt, including Bill Wirtz, always watched over her welfare. I agree with the comments Herbie made re the $$ involved in player contract disputes but have heard another (never verified nor mentioned by Arthur’s son Bill nor his son Rocky) story about why the home games were not televised. It has been said that Bill (a true gentleman the few times I met him) made a promise to his dad to not do so before the old man died. He is said to have always felt obligated to honor this despite the rampant criticism and probably poor business judgement. The story goes that Rocky, who did not have a promise to live up to would always give the go ahead when the team leadership was granted to him in the estate…I guess we’ll will never know for sure.
Either way, great blog as usual.
Loved this comment, Gary. Where were you yesterday when I needed you?
Detroit, obviously business and not pleasure.