Here's are some stories about Andrew Shirreffs (Andy) and Alex Shirreffs (pictured below in uniform) submitted by writer Ron Offen. Ron is pictured at the right.
Andrew, who lived in Chicago and once taught some kind of trade (perhaps lithography) at the Washburne Trade School in that city, was a very funny man and an incorrigible jokester. I remember that my mother (nee Ellen Shiirreffs), dad and my two paternal grandparents went to Uncle Andrew and Aunt Beatrice's home for dinner on a Sunday. My paternal grandmother (Elsie Offen) had almost no sense of humor although she was a sweet and loving woman.
At one point during the dinner Uncle Andy said to my grandmother Offen, who had just complemented Aunt Beatrice on the meal, "Yes it was a good meal, Mrs. Offen, but you should taste my specialty. It’s my stewed prunes and liver dish. I mix them into a kind of goulash. Absolutely delicious!"
To which my grandmother responded, "Yes, it does sound very good." Im sure she wondered why the rest of us were smirking and suppressing guffaws.
Uncle Alex was quite different, although a bit of a rake, I assume, during his early life. After all, he was in the Merchant Marines in his youth. I believe he worked for a Dutch oil company and I only met him a few times. He had come to the United States with his illegitimate daughter, Nessie Shirreffs (herself a very interesting character).
Aside from meeting both of them at Uncle Andy's at the dinner described above, we met them a few other times while they were in Chicago. Uncle Alex was a serious and earnest man who lived in Aruba as some kind of administrator for an oil company. He may have been an engineer, but I'm not sure on this. In any case he appeared very bright and dignified to my eleven-year-old eyes. He offered to send me stamps for my stamp collection when he returned to his island home. And to my surprise, he did just that. In fact we corresponded for about a year. I can't, however, remember any of the contents or subject matter of the letters.
Nessie Shirreffs (after the visit to Chicago) went back to Scotland, where she had lived up to that time. At the time I met her she was in her twenties, I believe. She was supported by Uncle Alex for most of her early life but may have been supporting herself at this time (about 1941). Later, after Uncle Alex retired she and her father went to live in Sunnyvale (I think) California. Then, after Uncle Alex died, she went back to Aberdeen, Scotland. I met her there in the mid-1980's.
Stay tuned for more stories from Ron!
By Ron Offen
When I summon up memories of my dear Aunt Isabel, two images, a sound, and the memory of an occasion come to mind.
One image is that of a beautiful young woman who turned the heads of everyone when she walked by (and especially when we went to the beach). The second was that young woman’s rather impish yet engaging smile, which transformed her entire face into a rare delight. It sometimes seemed she held some secret behind that smile, a secret that really bemused her.
The sound that I still hear is the almost girlish giggle that bubbled from those smiles and became a hearty but feminine laugh. Often I would contrive some foolish action or childish joke just to evoke that winsome sound.
Indeed, I was quite taken with my new Aunt Isabel when my debonair Uncle Stan married her. So I often reveled not just in her gaiety, but also in any attention I could gain from her.
I remember many occasions with Aunt Isabel, but the one that stands out most clearly in my mind is the day when she took me to a local hamburger stand in Euclid, Ohio. I had been staying with my grandparents in Euclid well into the school year, because my mother had undergone an operation and was recuperating with them before we could go home to Chicago.
On the particular day I now recall, Aunt Isabel was to meet me at Shore Elementary School, where I was busy bedeviling my sixth grade teacher (who couldn’t wait for me to return to Chicago). For some reason, my lovely Aunt was to take me to lunch. It was like a date!
My favorite place to eat was the above mentioned shanty- shack near the school that sold hamburgers, hot dogs, French fries, etc. It was my favorite place in Euclid to eat. I sometimes snuck off there by myself to gobble greasy hamburgers on my own, but no adult would deign to take me there, no matter how much I pleaded. I think they were afraid of being poisoned.
When Aunt Isabel asked where I’d like to eat, I suggested this place. To my great surprise, she immediately agreed to my request. No only that: she seemed excited at the prospect of going there, beaming that wonderful smile of hers on me. On the way, I told her that the absolute best way to have hamburgers was with mustard and pickles. She mused out loud, “Mustard and pickles . . . never tried that.”
When we ordered our lunch, to my surprise, she ordered her hamburger— with mustard and pickles! And when it came to eating our burgers, she said how tasty the combination was and how she was grateful to me for introducing it to her.
So I was even more smitten with Aunt Isabel from that day on. Here was not only a beautiful young woman, but also one who was fun to be with. Even more important: here was an adult that took my wishes and opinions seriously.
So that day provided a minor revelation to me and marked a kind of turning point in my life. Even though I was a mere eleven-year-old smart aleck, and rather a trial to my parents, to my Aunt Isabel I was someone whose opinion was considered and valued. It was a day I’ll never forget, thanks to my Aunt Isabel. And, of course, I will never forget her.
