KDUNK

Dear Lili,

This weekend you met several family members for the first time at my cousin Amy’s wedding. It was very exciting to see everyone. And I’m surprised your cheeks are not chapped with the amount of kisses and love each and every one of them had for you.

This was your second wedding you have attended – in two weeks I might add. And your second hotel room experience. You love a King bed I must say. You especially loved this King bed with it’s cozy comforter and silky sheets. You slept between Dad and I with your arms spread out like a little starfish. It was adorable.

We all slept pretty soundly from about 9PM until about 2AM when we were abruptly awakened – all three of us at once by a VOLUME 55 ringing telephone in our hotel room. I jolted out of bed. You started to fuss. Dad said, “What the…” I looked at the clock that read 2AM and was convinced someone had died. I picked up the receiver:

Me: Hello???

Guy: (Southern California accent) Dude…can I get a burger?

Me: WHAT?!

Guy: Um…can I order a burger?

Me: No you can not get a BURGER because you are calling A ROOM not ROOM SERVICE

SLAM.

No need to go into detail about having to put you back down to bed went after that Lili. My life is an Adam Sandler movie.

In other news the next day while driving home from the wedding we decided to make a detour and make a stop in City Island where my grandfather once owned a sail loft. My grandfather was a famous sail maker and his boat even won the American’s Cup in the 1950’s. My grandfather was also once the ‘Balentine Ale’ man and both he and my grandmother appeared in various ads in old magazines featuring them on their boats looking glam and clinking glasses.

Back in the day he owned this City Island sail loft. My mother shares stories of visiting it as a kid with her siblings. My grandmother once shared a funny story about packing a picnic lunch, magazines, change of clothes, etc. and taking the train there only to find it was a short distance from her house. She arrived over packed, overdressed and embarrassed much to the amusement of my grandfather and his sailor buddies.

As we first drove into town I said from the backseat of the car to keep an eye out for the Ratsey Sailmaking sign. No sooner did I say it did your father spot it. We pulled the car over to the side of the road to inspect further.

You were soundly asleep in the car seat Lili so Dad stayed with you while I walked back to the sign. It was faded and painted on the side of an old building. An arrow said, “Ratsey Sail – Turn Here” with an arrow pointing down the street.

Across the street from the faded sign I noticed a cluster of old drunks sitting in front of a deli smoking and drinking away. Some looked to be around my grandfather’s age. When in doubt – as the local drunks I say.

K: Excuse me – I see that sign over there for Ratsey Sails
Guy: Oh that. That’s been long gone. Used to be around years ago.
K: I know. My grandfather was Colin Ratsey.
Guy:our grandfather was Colin Ratsey? Oh man. Do I have some stories for you.

Twenty minutes later and a few clouds of inhaled Marlboro smoke I was lucky enough to be told first hand about my grandfather and the company he owned among tons of other amazing things. Perhaps my favorite story of Dickie’s was this:

Dickie: Your grandfather Colin Ratsey was the first person to ever hire me. I was ten years old. He told me if I came every morning to the sail loft to raise the flag and every evening before sunset to take it down that he would pay me $3 which back then was a LOT for anyone much less a small kid. There was only one catch – he told me that in order to get my money I had to prove to him with bank receipts that for every $3 he gave me that I put $2 of it in the bank. Each week I presented him with receipts and each week I got my money. By the time I was fourteen years old I was the only kid in my town to own my own boat which your grandfather Colin taught me to sail.

After a few more exchanges and convinced your father thought I’d be murdered having been gone so long I headed back to the car.

Dickie: One more thing! My mother’s name is Eleanor Knapp. She was your grandfather’s receptionist for over twenty years. She’s now 88. I’m going to go home after this and tell her I met Colin Ratsey’s granddaughter. I can tell you already – you’ve made her day.

Family history is such an interesting thing Lili. I sometimes wonder what stories will stick with you. What memories and images you will take with you as yours. Pass down along the way.