The Mayor Has Moved On

John Norman, my step dad's father and therefore my pseudo grandfather, died today at the ripe old age of 85. A World War II vet with a panache for the rowdy and politically incorrect, John was Mayor of Lake Crystal, MN throughout most of my entire childhood, something like 20 years. We knew he was going to pass soon yet still, it's sad when the great characters of our lives pass away. I've posted on him before but suddenly can't find it in my archives (let's face it; this blog's history is getting a bit ridiculous). So, instead of my own writing, here's a blog post written by the Mayor's nephew, Stevie Steve Steve, written some time ago:

The mayor of lake crystal

Hey all,

According to two e-mails I received today from family members, my grandfather is celebrating his eighty-fifth birthday today. In my childhood and adolescence my grandfather was known to me by three phrases which, like clockwork, made up the entirety of our conversations:

Grandpa: "What's your name?"
Me: "It's 'Steve,' Grandpa."
Grandpa: "(Pause.) You're not queer, are ya?"
Me: "No, Grandpa." (This line was sometimes followed by the redundant line of, "You still chasin' the women?")
Grandpa: "You ever thought about joining the service?"
Me: "No I haven't."

(end scene)

When I was growing up my grandfather was a bit of a legend in my mind thanks to the stories I heard of his time in the marines in World War II. Verifiable fact: my grandfather's ship (the U.S.S. Franklin) was kamikazied and sunk by Japanese forces in the Pacific in 1944. When I was young someone in my family told me that my grandfather had offered to cover a fellow crew member's night shift so that the crew member could get some much-needed shut-eye; thus, when the kamikaze plane crashed into the barracks the crew member died instead of my grandfather, who should have been in his place.

However, I don't know if this is true. After reading his memoirs, which someone has posted online, I'm led to believe that none of that story is true. It seems strange he wouldn't have mentioned that terribly ironic detail.

Have I been glorifying a false memory? I've even told this story to others to have them gasp in awe at the ironic turn of events that has, in time, led to my existence. It's still a great story, but it may not be anything more than that.

So much of this man's history remains unknown to me. He's called "The Mayor" in my family because he served as Mayor of good ol' Lake Crystal, MN in the 1980s-90s; yet, amidst that time I know he was once impeached for some sort of illegality or botched practice, and the town re-elected him the following year.

Or is that even entirely true? I need to find a Lake Crystal historian. Online resources only go so far.

Perhaps I'd know more had we ever gotten past those three exchanges. But military service never interested me, and studying English at a university never interested him. And the buck stopped there.

But, having really nothing else to do but reflect upon that, all I can really say now is, 'here's to an eighty-five-year-old man; I can only wonder at seeing that many years.'