Enough already Alia

Well, my grandmother died last week. I thought I would take a moment to write my own mini biography of her. She lived in a small town in Indiana until, at 13, she joined the Harry Blackstone touring magic show. She worked as a magician’s assistant on the tour until she was sent home at the Canadian border. Apparently, the authorities didn’t like the idea of child leaving the country without a guardian. Oh well. She went home. This next stint in small town American lasted around two years. At 15, she made her way to Chicago; alone again. She lived on the street for several months until my grandfather found her. She worked as a hand and foot model for many years but also had many other very interesting jobs. These include but may not be limited to, dancer, stunt/body double, freelance writer, adjunct professor, antique dealer, fortune teller, and United States Marine. She lived in Chicago until the early 1970’s and then decided to move back to Indiana to a town of 2000 people. Everybody knows everybody there and everybody most certainly knew her. After the news got out that she died, I received several messages from my Indiana friends offering their condolences. Here are some of the things my friends had to say about her.

• “We always thought she was a witch”
• “She was the meanest lady in town”
• “She was bat-shit crazy”
• “I remember one time she chased us around in her car because she thought we egged her house”
• “She sure cussed a lot”

These words were usually followed by something like:

• “She always had the coolest cars”
• “She was the most interesting person in town.”
• “After I grew up, she was really great to talk to.”

And then, I heard the same thing over and over again; she was the most exciting thing to talk about in town. She knew that and loved it. Sometimes she would tell me the latest stories going around town about her and laugh. Henry stories weren’t limited to Indiana. My friends who met her all had their own stories of their own. She loved being the center of attention and thrived on the fact that even in her old age, she still had it. There are 38 mirrors hanging on the walls in her house. This does not include all of the random hand mirrors that were lying on various dressers. She was a very beautiful woman and knew it. All of her idiosyncrasies made her one of the most unique individuals I will probably ever meet. One of my friends told me that he didn’t think that anyone would ever be able to overshadow the living legend that was my grandmother. I think he’s right.