Maverick was one of my favorite movies from the '90s. It holds a special significance for me because it was one of the few movies that I saw with my dad (he was never a big fan of going to movies after the advent of VCRs), and as we left the theater he made a comment about how much it reminded him of his own father and how he would have loved it had he been around to see it. The comment stuck with me, and ever since then, whenever I try to picture my grandfather, having never met him, I picture him as Brett Maverick.
My grandpa's favorite card story, told to me by my father, happened during a neighborhood game of seven-card stud. With three Queens and a 7 showing, and Grandpa Louie holding three cards, he continued to raise the bet. The other guy, knowing that he didn't have the fourth Queen, assumed that he was bluffing, so he also continued to raise the bet. The pot grew and grew until finally Grandpa Louie was called upon to show his hand...
Having never met my grandfather (he died in 1972), the story takes on mythical proportions so that when I play it in my mind it looks like this:
But that's not the most exciting story my grandpa ever told. And since all I have are stories, I feel compelled to re-post an old one:
February 18, 2006
The Slim but Unbreakable Thread
My grandfather, Hans "Louie" Larsen (he's the short one with the coat and tie standing on the left) was born in Denmark in 1894. He came over to America by himself in 1915 when he was 21. He had planned to return to Denmark but ran out of money so he joined the army. He was wounded in battle during World War I in a gas attack and left for dead, but somebody happened to notice his leg twitch and they pulled him out of the pile. He lost a lung, but he had gotten his gas mask on just in time to save his life.
After the war he settled in Minnesota, got married, and had three daughters. After his first wife died he met and married my grandmother. They bought a house and had a dog named Bob. Later they had a son (my dad) who they also named Bob.
Louie's gas mask -- part of the slim but unbreakable thread of providence by which I came to exist -- is now in my possession. My dad presented it to me today and I hope to pass it on to my own son one day. I guess you could call that reason #139 why I need to get married.
Also, my grandmother, great-grandmother, and great-great-grandmother are all in the above picture which was taken in or around 1946. My grandma is the one sitting next to the guy in the plaid shirt, my great-grandma is sitting next to my grandpa, and my great-great-grandma is the one closest to the camera. I regret that I never got to meet my grandfather. He died four years before I was born at the age of 78.
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