On Memorial Day we met my family at the cemetery where both my grand parents are buried. Kristi and I arrived early and we wandered the graveyard looking for clues about how each individual met their demise, and discussing how we would like our remains disposed of (for the record, I’d like to be stuffed and brought out for Christmas and family vacations). Noah and Hannah played in and around the gardens as we waited for my family.
After a while my mother arrived with fresh cut flowers from her garden, and then my sisters with their children in tow. My nephew Landon wore a Batman costume. We sat gathered around a bench near my grandparent’s gravesites and looked at photos that my mother had brought in a zip lock bag. We talked about each grandparent a little and discussed who looked like whom, memories we have, and how no one had mastered driving like my Grandpa Allen a man who had the unique approach of driving with both the gas and break applied at the same time.
My fathers dad, Clifford Franklin Allen was a child of the depression, an orphan for all intents and purposes, and a true self made business man. He believed in the power of positive thinking and that you control your own destiny.
Once when my parents left town my sister and I stayed with my Grandma and Grandpa Allen. I guess we were around 7 or 8 years old. My sister and I thought that we would take advantage of the grandparent/grandchild dynamic by pretending to be sick so that we could stay home and avoid school. I remember I was surprised when my grandfather said “you don’t have to go to school, but you can’t stay home”. He loaded us up in the car and took us to work with him that day.
Salt Lake Costume
Clifford owned the Salt Lake Costume Company. He had worked there as a young man an eventually purchased the business from the original owner. He grew it into the largest business of its type in the western US. It was a magical place for a child. A large 3 floored building full of costumes, props, and various bizarre costume paraphernalia rows and rows of gorilla costumes, alien heads, monsters, skulls, dragons, guns, demons, princesses, etc. We would hide on the dimly lit second floor in the center of the costume racks. When customers walked by we would reach out between the clothing and grab at their legs. They would jump or screech and we would run to another hiding place hearts pumping, giggling uncontrollably.
On our sick day, my grandfather put us to work. Our job was to stand at the “novelty” counter where behind it there was a large wall that had all kinds of items stapled to it for display. Items like fake fingernails, straw hats, rubber spiders, plastic swords, hand cuffs, and Hawaiian leis.
Grandpa Allen
We helped customers, stocked the product bins, and played games behind the counter. It was a pretty fun day. On the novelty wall was an authentic metal police badge. I think it came in a set with some handcuffs and a night stick. At the end of the day I remember taking it up to Grandpa and telling him that I wanted it. I figured he owned the store, I could put it in my pocket and we could go home. I was surprised when he walked me down to the counter, and we waited in line with the other customers. When it was our turn he pulled out his wallet, told me how much it cost, and then he paid full price for it. I remember asking him why he had to buy it, and he told me “Nothing in life is free Chris; there is a price for everything”.
Even though I was a small child I remember that interaction like it was yesterday. It was an invaluable object lesson about business, management, and investment. As I’ve aged I think it has helped me to weigh the value verses the investment of opportunities and decisions, and be mindful of whose capital I’m spending.
Recent Comments