Backdating this a bit, but Ruth and I built a hanging wine glass rack. I enjoy it rather too much.
Apprehensive Brett
Audra and Maude
Oysters by the Bay
Convinced some friends to go on an adventure. What better way to spend a Saturday than shucking oysters and drinking beer in the warm California sun?
After getting back to San Francisco, I napped for a few hours and then got on a flight to Pittsburgh for Grandpa Eddie’s funeral. His health had been failing for the last few months, and Janet and I had discussed what would happen if he passed while I was out of the country. I was glad to be able to hustle home and make it there for the service and shiva.
The service was touching, and each of his children spoke about the depths of his kindness. I was a pall bearer, and while wearing the overcoat of my great uncle Jerry, found leather gloves that were quite useful when lowering the casket, as well as two pink yarmulkes. Thanks Uncle Jerry!
Grandpa was always interested in technology; he switched from PC to Mac a few years ago, and was always keeping up with the latest thing. As a retired Chevy dealer, he was excited to see the release of the Volt. I spent the afternoon cleaning up his iMac to give to the family of his caretaker, and was proud to find printouts of some of the websites I had built recently. He once told Janet that he thought I had spent more time on this blog than in school. But I know he read every entry, and was pleased to see me travel to Israel, even if our politics didn’t entirely align. So here’s to you Grandpa Eddie; may you play ping-pong once more with the shah.
Grandpa Eddie and the Sable clan at his 90th birthday
After the emotionally exhausting trip to Belchite, we continued to Barcelona for some traditional sightseeing. We stayed at a “Medium Hotel” but I felt the room was more of a small. Luckily we’re a close family, and we survived three nights in a single room together.
Barcelona Apartments
Dining at El Glop
We adjusted to the Spanish ritual of a late dinner, and ventured out on the street at 11pm on our second night. The closest restaurant recommended by the guidebook was El Glop, and it lived up to its name. The secret ingredient to their sangria was Fanta, which Hannah thought was delightful and Mom and I thought was gross. However, the calcots (spring onions) in an eponymous dipping sauce were excellent. We were provided with bibs and surgical gloves to eat them, which turned out to be necessary. At first I ate one without peeling it, which is the faux-pas equivalent of just biting into corn on the cob without husking. The bibs kept the glop from our shirts, and the fanta-sangria kept everyone in good spirits.
Antiques Dealing
Republican Coin
We were excited to find an antique market in front of the main cathedral, where we bought newspapers and currency from the war era. Mom befriended a seller there named Jackie, and she was kind enough to give us an original pin with the Republican colors.
Sam Levinger
1917-1937
Our visit to Spain was primarily a research trip for my mother’s in-progress book about her uncle Sam, who fought with the Lincoln Brigades in the Spanish Civil War in 1937. We knew from family lore and letters that he was wounded at the battle of Belchite, but not where he was buried. With the help of Alan Warren we determined that he was treated in a field hospital in Puebla del Hijar a few miles away, and buried there in the town’s memorial to the Republican dead.
Destroyed Home
The old town of Belchite was preserved by Franco as a monument to the war and a warning to those who would further defy him. It’s an eerie place, with two ruined churches, apartments half open to the elements, and broken bricks and roof-tiles everywhere. Our hoteliers at the Casa Rural Abuela Pilar warned us that it was filled with “fantasma”, and I don’t disagree. The brutal fighting and the destruction of the town presaged the viciousness of the Second World War.
Church of San Augustin
The first objective in the battle was the Iglesia de San Augustin, surrounded by fascist machine guns and with a sniper in the bell tower. Contemporary accounts by soldiers make it clear that the town was well defended, and that the Republicans were probably outgunned. The commander called for an artillery assault to soften the defenses, but none came. Afraid of being exposed for too long to aerial attack and unable to retreat over open ground, the assault went forward. Sam was an ammunition carrier, and probably hit while bringing supplies to the front line.
Church of San Augustin interior
Church ceiling
The interior of the church is hauntingly beautiful, but appears to be falling apart faster than it can be stabilized. The roof is open to the sky, trees grow in from the side, and religious figures peer down from the ornamented ceiling to the broken tile floor. The site is not particularly well preserved; there is no interpretive information, and it was quite helpful to have an the expertise of Alan Warren to orient us and tell us from which direction the assault came.
Road to Puebla
The Lincolns were eventually able to capture the church, but at a high cost. Twenty three Americans were killed, and over sixty wounded, including Sam. He was evacuated by stretcher and then ambulance to Puebla del Hijar, 22 miles away. The road to Puebla is long and bumpy, and I imagine the ambulance ride would be quite an ordeal. Today the road is flanked by windmills that even Don Quixote might think twice about about charging.
Puebla Hijar Memorial
The field hospital was in prefabricated huts that are no longer present, but the train station sits on the main square with a small memorial to those killed in the war. The town cemetery has memorials to both the Republican and Francoist dead, but the Republican monument did not include names of those buried beneath it. We can only assume Sam is among them. We said Kaddish and placed a granite plaque there in his memory, which Alan said the town mayoress would ensure was affixed permanently. In the meantime, we will keep his memory alive in our hearts, in our words, and in our deeds. No pasaran!