Tribute To My Grandfather
Well, today is 18 years since the passing of my Grandfather Arthur Holodynski. I really can't believe it's been so long, yet I do acknowledge just how much really has changed since. No matter how I look at it, Oct. 16, 1992 is a day I'll never forget.
Partially, I want to acknowledge and whole heartedly thank my Grandfather for all that he gave me, and what he accomplished, a lot of it unknowingly and unintentionally. He was not without his flaws, but all in all he was a very good man and a very good influence on many people he came in contact with. A lot of the lessons and habits I personally learned from him, weren't directly taught, but were observed. It's possible that to some extent I picked up too much from him, but in my love for him, I wouldn't have it any other way.
In many ways, I have much in common with him, from how I'm perceived, to my approach on things in life. Between work ethic, the way I get along with many people, the way that I'm a perfectionist in what I do almost to a fault, the way that I can't deal with just doing nothing, and my desire to do things that need to be done in the best possible ways, are among the traits I picked up from him. To be able to have focus on one primary outlet, yet still be jack of all trades to some extent in everything you get your hands in is something I admired then, and still try to keep up with to this day.
My Grandfather was a man of craft. His primary craft was clothing, fabrics, and tailoring specifically. He may not have been the fastest at what he did, but you'd be hard pressed to find someone who could do it better. I remember my Dad telling me that one time he had taken him into a store looking for suits (NBO or Macy's maybe), and my Grandfather just looking at the hem of a suit jacket that was $6000 dollars in the mid 1980s, quickly dismissing it as "crap" and "shoddy workmanship". Thing is, compared to what he did, it surely was. It may have taken him months to make something, but there's not question that when he completed it, it would be damn near perfection.
He worked for John's Manville for I think 33 years, before he retired in 1986. He was the head tailor in his dept. I don't know much about what that was as he didn't really bring it up too much, and being a long time ago and me young, I likely wouldn't remember that well. But even though the stuff they did was often by machine and computer controlled, he did much hand stitching. Because he was more accurate than the machines. When you would see pictures of the bay doors opening on the Space Shuttle, and there's the padding in there, he had personally hand stitched most of that. In space there's no room for a stitch to be .0001 of an inch off. That's why they had him do it by hand; it would ensure that accuracy. Despite the amazing feats such as that which I'm aware, and certainly many other that I'm not, he got little in terms of commendation or recognition for it. However that wasn't why he did it.
The thing about that too, was that he never was arrogant about what he did or could do. Even though he was an amazing tailor, and also extremely adept at many many other things, he was never anything other than humble and hardworking. Up until days before he passed away, he would still be outside daily tending to our garden, chopping wood for the winter and our wood-burning stove, cleaning, painting, or something. He wasn't sedentary and he was always seemingly making something out of nothing. And it would be good.
He worked hard at everything he did, and often did so with little acknowledgment and thanks for what he was doing. He always worked hard to provide for family, and made sure that there was always food in our house, that there was clothing and shelter, and that if there were things that his children or grandchildren wanted, he would do his best to make it happen, asking nothing in return. He got my Father new cars when he started driving. When I wanted a Nintendo, he and I walked to the nearest K-Mart to get it for me, despite knowing my Dad wouldn't approve of it. Whenever I broke a part on my bike, he would take me to get a new one. When I wanted to make tapes to listen to, he would always buy me at least a pack of 2 Maxell cassettes when we went shopping. There are surely MANY more things I could add to this paragraph, but you get the idea.
One of the many things that impressed me about him was his ingenuity with things. He would find unique, original, and often times unexpected and low cost solutions to things. He would use super strong concentrated coffee as a way to stain wood. He showed me how using concentrated strength in small sections of a tight jar would make it easy to open. He would use our concrete porch as a knife sharpener. I remember him filing the hinge of a door on a Porsche Matchbox car so it wouldn't stick closed. Things like that. He never failed to impress me with his unique way of thinking and problem solving.
He was semi-fluent in many different languages. As a matter of fact, I never even got to really witness much of this, and even crazier that English was probably one of his weaker ones. But I know that he was able to carry on conversations in Polish, French, some Italian & Spanish, Russian, as well as being fluent in Ukrainian, German, and English. Yet he only was in school until 2nd grade. These things were all learned in the expressness of the real world. Some of it likely during the events of WWII. He told me stories of how he had been shot at from planes while working in fields during that time. How he came to America in the late 1940's to start a new life with basically nothing. He always had some amazing story to tell about something he had experienced. And he had experienced a lot.
I also still think of the amount of change he witnessed in his lifetime. He was born and raised on a farm in the Ukraine in 1923. They did not have electricity, running water, or sewers. Ultimately, by today's standards, the dark ages. Yet, by 1992, short of the mainstream evolution of the internet, he witnessed everything we have today come into fruition. In the grand scheme of what we have in our lives and rely on, when he was born, these things didn't exist yet. The idea that in 69 years he witnessed a massive transformation in the way life is lived is almost impossible to comprehend. As much as I'd like to see a lot happen in my time, I don't think what I've witnessed between 1978-2010 holds a candle to what my Grandpa saw change between 1923 and 1954.
There are little quirky things that will always remind me of him. Whenever I smell wintergreen alcohol I think of him, as that was his "cure" for almost anything physical. He also would use Boric Acid to cure pink eye type symptoms. He used to save paper plates and napkins to be used again. Whenever I smell a pipe or Tijuana Smalls, I think of him. Just mentioning a bath with epsom salts makes me think of him. He used to watch WWF religiously. When he wasn't watching that, he was watching PBS. He wouldn't let us own a Microwave because it would use to much electricity. But oddities aside, he always had the best intentions for all of us.
I still have dreams to this day with my Grandfather in them. Often they're very similar to what it was like living with him in my life; very unobtrusive, kinda just there in the background, and steps up when necessary with just the right amount of input, guidance, or advice, and nothing more. Sort of like a guide, in that just his presence will assure things will go well. I guess in a way that's still the same, I just don't see him anymore.
Thank you for everything. I miss you and love you Grandpa.
R.I.P. Arthur Holodynski March 7, 1923 - October 16, 1992
Partially, I want to acknowledge and whole heartedly thank my Grandfather for all that he gave me, and what he accomplished, a lot of it unknowingly and unintentionally. He was not without his flaws, but all in all he was a very good man and a very good influence on many people he came in contact with. A lot of the lessons and habits I personally learned from him, weren't directly taught, but were observed. It's possible that to some extent I picked up too much from him, but in my love for him, I wouldn't have it any other way.
In many ways, I have much in common with him, from how I'm perceived, to my approach on things in life. Between work ethic, the way I get along with many people, the way that I'm a perfectionist in what I do almost to a fault, the way that I can't deal with just doing nothing, and my desire to do things that need to be done in the best possible ways, are among the traits I picked up from him. To be able to have focus on one primary outlet, yet still be jack of all trades to some extent in everything you get your hands in is something I admired then, and still try to keep up with to this day.
My Grandfather was a man of craft. His primary craft was clothing, fabrics, and tailoring specifically. He may not have been the fastest at what he did, but you'd be hard pressed to find someone who could do it better. I remember my Dad telling me that one time he had taken him into a store looking for suits (NBO or Macy's maybe), and my Grandfather just looking at the hem of a suit jacket that was $6000 dollars in the mid 1980s, quickly dismissing it as "crap" and "shoddy workmanship". Thing is, compared to what he did, it surely was. It may have taken him months to make something, but there's not question that when he completed it, it would be damn near perfection.
He worked for John's Manville for I think 33 years, before he retired in 1986. He was the head tailor in his dept. I don't know much about what that was as he didn't really bring it up too much, and being a long time ago and me young, I likely wouldn't remember that well. But even though the stuff they did was often by machine and computer controlled, he did much hand stitching. Because he was more accurate than the machines. When you would see pictures of the bay doors opening on the Space Shuttle, and there's the padding in there, he had personally hand stitched most of that. In space there's no room for a stitch to be .0001 of an inch off. That's why they had him do it by hand; it would ensure that accuracy. Despite the amazing feats such as that which I'm aware, and certainly many other that I'm not, he got little in terms of commendation or recognition for it. However that wasn't why he did it.
The thing about that too, was that he never was arrogant about what he did or could do. Even though he was an amazing tailor, and also extremely adept at many many other things, he was never anything other than humble and hardworking. Up until days before he passed away, he would still be outside daily tending to our garden, chopping wood for the winter and our wood-burning stove, cleaning, painting, or something. He wasn't sedentary and he was always seemingly making something out of nothing. And it would be good.
He worked hard at everything he did, and often did so with little acknowledgment and thanks for what he was doing. He always worked hard to provide for family, and made sure that there was always food in our house, that there was clothing and shelter, and that if there were things that his children or grandchildren wanted, he would do his best to make it happen, asking nothing in return. He got my Father new cars when he started driving. When I wanted a Nintendo, he and I walked to the nearest K-Mart to get it for me, despite knowing my Dad wouldn't approve of it. Whenever I broke a part on my bike, he would take me to get a new one. When I wanted to make tapes to listen to, he would always buy me at least a pack of 2 Maxell cassettes when we went shopping. There are surely MANY more things I could add to this paragraph, but you get the idea.
One of the many things that impressed me about him was his ingenuity with things. He would find unique, original, and often times unexpected and low cost solutions to things. He would use super strong concentrated coffee as a way to stain wood. He showed me how using concentrated strength in small sections of a tight jar would make it easy to open. He would use our concrete porch as a knife sharpener. I remember him filing the hinge of a door on a Porsche Matchbox car so it wouldn't stick closed. Things like that. He never failed to impress me with his unique way of thinking and problem solving.
He was semi-fluent in many different languages. As a matter of fact, I never even got to really witness much of this, and even crazier that English was probably one of his weaker ones. But I know that he was able to carry on conversations in Polish, French, some Italian & Spanish, Russian, as well as being fluent in Ukrainian, German, and English. Yet he only was in school until 2nd grade. These things were all learned in the expressness of the real world. Some of it likely during the events of WWII. He told me stories of how he had been shot at from planes while working in fields during that time. How he came to America in the late 1940's to start a new life with basically nothing. He always had some amazing story to tell about something he had experienced. And he had experienced a lot.
I also still think of the amount of change he witnessed in his lifetime. He was born and raised on a farm in the Ukraine in 1923. They did not have electricity, running water, or sewers. Ultimately, by today's standards, the dark ages. Yet, by 1992, short of the mainstream evolution of the internet, he witnessed everything we have today come into fruition. In the grand scheme of what we have in our lives and rely on, when he was born, these things didn't exist yet. The idea that in 69 years he witnessed a massive transformation in the way life is lived is almost impossible to comprehend. As much as I'd like to see a lot happen in my time, I don't think what I've witnessed between 1978-2010 holds a candle to what my Grandpa saw change between 1923 and 1954.
There are little quirky things that will always remind me of him. Whenever I smell wintergreen alcohol I think of him, as that was his "cure" for almost anything physical. He also would use Boric Acid to cure pink eye type symptoms. He used to save paper plates and napkins to be used again. Whenever I smell a pipe or Tijuana Smalls, I think of him. Just mentioning a bath with epsom salts makes me think of him. He used to watch WWF religiously. When he wasn't watching that, he was watching PBS. He wouldn't let us own a Microwave because it would use to much electricity. But oddities aside, he always had the best intentions for all of us.
I still have dreams to this day with my Grandfather in them. Often they're very similar to what it was like living with him in my life; very unobtrusive, kinda just there in the background, and steps up when necessary with just the right amount of input, guidance, or advice, and nothing more. Sort of like a guide, in that just his presence will assure things will go well. I guess in a way that's still the same, I just don't see him anymore.
Thank you for everything. I miss you and love you Grandpa.
R.I.P. Arthur Holodynski March 7, 1923 - October 16, 1992