A MEMORY OF JAMES APPLEBACH

My sister and I were at a small family gathering last week in Lancaster, PA.  Two of my father's sisters are still alive and were there, and they were talking about how the boys (brothers?) would put nails in their pockets so it sounded like they had change in their pockets (hence, they were not poor). My sister commented later that maybe that was why our father would stand and rattle the change in his pockets as an adult.

My cousin Keith as a child spent alot of time with Grandma Jennie Applebach because his mom was working.  He remembered my father and Uncle Paul going out one night after dark.  The next morning, a local man showed up at the door and told my grandmother that she owed him 50 cents for the watermelons that Paul and James stole from him during the night.

I only remember James as my father, but I know his own family remembers him as a child and young person.  It was good to listen to the stories and see him from a different perspective.

After walking around the area on E. Chestnut where he lived as a child, I now understand why he always insisted that there was a yard for us to play in as children, something that I really never understood until last week.