Page 86 - Armstrong Bloodline - ebook_Neat

recall that he worked as a construction foreman for a large firm and was responsible for completing several
large projects in the area and at other locations in Louisiana. However, he subsequently decided he was going
to retire, and built himself a farm outside of McNeil, MS, where he and Myrtle moved. My family and I then
spent a period of over five years in Sicily, before returning once again to New Orleans in 1983. When we
returned, we tried to reestablish a relationship with my father, and continued to visit him for some time.
However, things got a bit tense when he seemed to show little interest in his four grandchildren. Gradually, we
stopped visiting.

Our relationship continued to worsen, and by the time I moved to Florida in November, 1985, it had been
some time since we had communicated.

Another ten years passed before I decided to visit my father at his farm outside of McNeil, Mississippi in July
1995. As we had parted on somewhat strained terms the last time, both of us were somewhat uneasy about
our reunion. Our youngest two children, Lia and Damian had expressed the desire to meet their grandfather,
and I thought that he might also be interested in reading about what I had learned of our ancestors during my
genealogy research. When we arrived, I was surprised to see both Myrtle's son Peter, his three daughters, and
her daughter Bunny were also there. I had the distinct impression that Myrtle had decided to call in
reinforcements in case we proved unfriendly…

When I told Dad and Myrtle that I was writing a narrative about our ancestors, I remember my father asking
me why I put in the time and effort to do such a thing. I told him that I had never felt that I completely fit in
with the Anderson/Hanson side of the family and that for me it was probably an attempt to find out a little
more about what makes me who I am. Myrtle asked if I was writing about my dad also and I replied that I was.
She then said that she and dad didn't care what anyone thought of them and I replied that I was happy to hear
that as it made it easier to write what I felt. This was all said in a joking manner, but there was a tension behind
this exchange that none of us missed. The ladies and kids adjourned to other areas of the house, and he, I and
his step-son, Peter Ugulano, sat at his dining room table, and for most of that rainy afternoon we talked of his
Army days at St. John’s, Newfoundland, reminisced about relatives and incidents that he remembered, and
even talked a bit about the years he spent with my mother.

In the ten years since I had last seen him he had retained his love of reading and as
we arrived I noticed that he laid down a dog-eared paperback about China titled
Dynasty. His hair was now completely white but his mind was still sharp and he
had lost none of that slightly belligerent attitude with which he surveyed his
surroundings. He had aged quite a bit and arthritis in his hip merely made it
possible for him to dedicate more of his time to reading. As I sat down at the
kitchen table and accepted a beer, memories of previous visits and similar
afternoons flashed through my mind. It was as if nothing had changed as he sat
Visiting with dad at his house in with his ever present cigarette in one hand and a can of beer in the other.
McNeil, MS - 1974

As we discussed people, places, and events, tensions on both sides began to ease; I could see that he seemed
to enjoy our conversation. Before we left, he told me that he did not initially think that he was going to enjoy
our visit, but that he had been pleasantly surprised. He said that he was looking forward to reading what I had
written, and I told him that I would call him in a couple weeks to see what he thought of my efforts and to get
any additional information or corrections that he might care to suggest. As I think back on this visit, even
though I had enjoyed it, I remember that it struck me with finality that he would never fit the fatherly role that
I had hoped for nor would he ever be the doting grandfather that my kids longed for; too many years and
events had combined to make that impossible. However, it was clear that Peter and he had a great deal in

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