Gravespotting

A long time ago, or maybe a week and a half, Grampa and I did some grave visiting. It was Saturday of Memorial Day Weekend.

We drove to Portland to visit Mother’s people. I drove the Beemer and it was not running well. I asked Grampa how long the “Service Engine Soon” light was on because, well, that’s usually a clue to the general state of things.

We drove it anyway.

During the trip, we named all the people we knew in the general vicinity who could be emergency contacts just in case. It pays to be prepared.

We arrived in Portland, at the beautiful Riverview Cemetery.

Here’s the stone. Can you read the name?

 

Ainslie-Mother’s people.

I took pictures of the whole family-except for George Junior-who was married to Sarissa. They had the three children, Euphemia, Caroline, and George the 3rd, my grampa Ainslie. (Buried with his wife Jean, my granny)

  

I love all the names-Sarissa the best, but Euphemia and Caroline are fine girl names.

Grampa shined up the stone-

We admired this ginormous rhododendron that was pruned to within an inch of it’s life, but continues to grow.

I mean, the size of those trunks is impressive.

This bulbular tree was also noteworthy, but unfortunately dead. Ironically, it sort of belongs in this very setting. Being dead and all. Most of the other occupants here are dead too. Just an observation. Nothing personal.

 

There were some cool architectural features too-

And old graves-

These folks were friends of the Ainslie’s. They now live in the same block. For all eternity.

We then went to Longview and visited the Kalahans.

That’s Grampa and Grandma Kalahan

 

And my Aunt Jane and Uncle Lyle.

We visited my cousin (Jane’s son) David and ohhh’d and ahhh’d over his new remodeled kitchen

And new living room-

Nice. We also visited cousin Janet (David’s sister) and her family, but by then we were out of pictures.

In between, Grampa and I had lunch at Applebees, and for dinner (the Beemer made a valiant effort and took us all the way home) we had Mexican. There was also a stop at the Multnomah Athletic Club in Portland to talk about a medal my Grampa Ainslie won playing handball there in 1915. Yep. That he did.

All in all, it was quite a trip, but well worth the effort.

And next up-lets just say it started like this-

And ended somewhere around here--

Interested?

(Thanks for the beer picture Nancy Pick-and thanks in advance of the next blog to all of my friends who donated time and food and more beer the whole weekend long. You all are the best! And a big reason I’m coming back home.)