A TRIBUTE TO MOM & POP CONRAD

LAKE MILTON

A Tribute to Mom & Pop Conrad

The world needs a “Mom & Pop Conrad in every family. I remember when I was between 3 & 12 years old I knew Mom & Pop Conrad. They were the parents of Carol Conrad, a neighbor boy several years older than I. They were actually more like grand parents to this WWII era baby, a product of a divorce and what would now be called a “dysfunctional family”. The only thing was, is that my family was very functional, on all levels. I had two sets of parents that loved me equally and I loved them the same way. I often confused my boy hood chums by referring to my dad and step dad as “dad”, No distinction being made. I still cause a raised eyebrow or two, when I talk about my past and mention that my dad lived in Delaware and then a minute later say that I spent a year with my dad who “ lives in San Diego”. (But that’s another story)

My dad from Delaware and mother use to take me to see Mom & Pop Conrad when they moved away from the neighborhood and we were on the post war rise to middle class status. They had moved to Milton Dam a nice lake area in northeastOhio. Oh, I forgot, at the time we lived in Ohio, where I was born, and so was every one else in the family. (But that’s another story) They had a year round cottage on the edge of the lake and a boat and an outhouse and a long dock and a lot of grass all around. Probably the greatest place in the world for picnics and kids to learn to love their fathers.

Mom and Pop Conrad had skin the color of walnut and these fine little wrinkles that made them look leathery and kind of like pioneers. Pop always wore shorts and no shirt and went barefoot. I emulate him to this day. Carol their son was kind of plump after they moved away and was into other things, so we only saw him briefly when we went to visit. He did take us roller-skating down by the dammed end of the lake a couple of times. He drove and we got to see pretty girls. (But that’s another story) Dad, the one from Delaware originally Ohio, used to take us out on Pops boat to cross the lake. It had a little trolling motor, but more often we used the oars. Sometimes we would go up this little inlet and catch bluegill off their spawning beds but we always threw them back in, because that’s what one is supposed to do. I learned what spawning was and I didn’t put it in the same context with the pretty girls at the roller Rink until many years later.

Mom Conrad made the best deviled eggs and pies in the world, but I remember the corn on the cob most of all. The melted butter and corn kernels that were all over our faces was easily washed off by the early evening jump off the end of the dock, just about a half an hour before it was time to leave.

Usually I was told, like all kids at the time, to go to the bathroom before we made our long haul home in the old Plymouth. I remember the outhouse vividly. It was white and well insulated and looked like a real nice building, but it had an aura about it. (But that’s another story)

The one thing that was always a little mysterious to me was that when my mom and dad, the one that eventually took us to Delaware, would be driving us back home, they would talk about Carol’s older brothers. The Ones I remember in pictures, dressed in their sailor suits. Actually they were uniforms; Mom Conrad had a two gold star flag in her window. Both were killed on the battle ship Arizona. I wasn’t sure at the time what all of that meant but last year My wife and I visited the Arizona’s resting place in Hawaii, Now I know what it meant.

Mom and Pop Conrad were real people they were always cheerful and giving of self and sharing all they had. They were instructive and shared their oldest sons in the ultimate sacrifice, (But that’s another story). I will never forget