Part III: The Essay

When my brother and I were younger, my maternal grandmother always told us we were lucky that all but one grandparent were alive. Growing up, she never knew any of her grandparents, as they died by the time she was two years old. Ironically, today she is my only living grandparent. As I reflect now at a more mature age, I realize that growing up, fate didn’t afford me the opportunity to experience day to day interaction with my grandparents. I reflect back on past memories of my maternal grandfather, John Ronald Schnupp, who died on October 12, 2009 when I was just ten years old. I remember not quite understanding the impact his death would have on everyone. As I reflect now, I am grateful for the time I knew my grandfather, even if he lived far away in a small town called Ephrata, Pennsylvania. My grandfather was like a bridge, linking the past to myself in the present. These past few months, I have had the opportunity to gain insight on who he was—and still is, as his memory lives on. Throughout my writing, I will identify my grandfather not by his name, but as the person he was to me—Grandpa.

Grandpa was born on October 13, 1945 in Stevens, PA, to Roy Howard Schnupp and Bertha Groff Schnupp. His parents worked in farming and landscaping sales. Grandpa was a hardworking farm boy; although he wished to remain in school, his father thought he should work on a farm, so Grandpa went to work on a dairy farm in addition to working on his own family’s farm. Growing up, Grandpa had plenty of responsibilities—feeding the steers, collecting eggs, and feeding the chickens and pigs. He also worked in the fields planting crops and maintaining two large gardens. In addition, he took part in the yearly butchering of a steer and two pigs. Grandpa was an easygoing and dependable person, and he always got along well with his siblings; he had red hair and freckles and kept himself neat. While he wasn’t working, Grandpa liked playing games outside—baseball, croquet, and kick the tin can; he also enjoyed table games like Monopoly in the winter months on Sunday afternoons with his father. Grandpa’s parents taught him faith in Jesus Christ and instilled in him values of responsibility and strong work ethic, thus accounting for his assiduous working behavior. Living for Jesus (not the same thing as religion) was something Grandpa valued greatly. Before he met my grandmother, he almost drowned. Because of this event, Grandpa had a “born again” experience and wanted to live his life serving and pleasing God.

Grandpa met my grandmother, then Edith Martin, through Marriage Encounter through a church. My grandparents had their first date in August of 1963 when my grandma was a senior at Ephrata High School. Mary Jane, Grandpa’s sister, played the role of the “mail girl,” delivering Grandpa’s letters to Grandma at school. In June of 1965, my Grandpa and Grandma were married at my maternal great grandparents’ home; it was a gorgeous day, with the roses in full bloom. They spent their first two years of marriage living in Boston, where Grandpa served his country during the Vietnam War. As a Mennonite and pacifist, Grandpa was not allowed to partake in the actual fighting and violence of the war; he was given the alternative of working as an orderly in the operating room at the New England Baptist Hospital in Boston, Massachusetts. My grandmother herself served as a ward aid; both served two year terms. As a “1W” worker under the supervision of a retired military figure, Grandpa and the rest of the God-serving farm boys were intimidated and feared harsh punishment. However, their commitment and tenacity won the supervisor’s respect; even many years after the war, Mr. Booth visited my grandparents once in a while once they moved back to Pennsylvania. My grandparents’ first two years of marriage allowed them to share many experiences of growing and working with one another. Even though they were very poor, they were very happy. Grandpa’s first son, John, was born in May of 1966 in Boston. After those two years, Grandpa and his family moved back to Pennsylvania, and they lived in two different homes in New Holland before moving back to Ephrata permanently. His second son Jeff was born in September of 1967, my mother Joanna in February of 1968, and Janella in September of 1970. Grandpa was a great father, and he always was very good with babies and children, his own and other ones as well. He seemed to inherit this trait from his own grandfather. Grandpa firmly believed in his children respecting and obeying their parents, as well as consequences if they did not. Once back in Pennsylvania, Grandpa worked at Martin’s as a limestone truck driver; he hauled limestone for farmers’ fields and stone for road construction/projects. Grandpa had always wanted to finish high school, so he obtained his GED. Serving “1W” in the war sparked a care giving interest in him; after he obtained his GED, Grandpa went to practical nursing school. He worked as an LPN (licensed practical nurse) at West Reading Hospital for almost 9 ½ years, but had to leave because the income was not sufficient to support his children who were beginning college. This was a very hard experience on Grandpa—he was forced choose money over the occupation he loved dearly. He went back to truck driving for a while, working for various companies. Eventually though, he returned to nursing; after taking a refresher course, Grandpa worked as an industrial nurse at Tyson Foods. His last job, however, was at Helping Hands, a daycare for children who, due to health problems, could not go to regular day care centers. Grandpa was known to all there as “Papa John.” He loved his job, and the children loved him as a fatherly figure.

Not only was Grandpa loved by many, but he also loved his family and especially my grandmother with all his heart, constantly reminding her. He even asked her at one point, “Is it possible to love you too much?” Grandpa was very special to my grandmother, however, she felt sometimes he was too outspoken, but there was never a doubt on how he felt about issues. My grandmother told me that of course there would have been people who did not like him, but it didn’t seem to bother him. Grandpa was appreciative of music, and he was a wonderful singer himself. At one point, he joined Christian Heralds men chorus and sang baritone. When he sang in church, he sang tenor. As an adult, Grandpa’s hobbies included singing, playing games, traveling, and coin collecting. He also took part in the Ephrata Farmshow every year, placing 1^st to 3^rd in crop exhibition for his tomatoes, squash, pumpkin, and Indian corn. However, the one thing he probably loved the most was visiting his cabin, "Cozy Cove." Grandpa fell in love with the place as soon as he laid eyes on it. It was a lovely place, out in the woods on a mountain, a little stream nearby; the cabin was set at the base of a rolling hill, surrounded by countless tall trees. Grandpa loved sitting on the porch and watching the deer and turkey and taking in the beauty of God's work that surrounded him. Grandpa loved the familiarity of his cabin, though he and my grandmother also traveled extensively once their children had grown up. He visited many places around the world, including Germany, Austria, Luxembourg, France, Japan, Israel, Canada, and Mexico (when they visited my family in Brownsville). However, his favorite place was Switzerland. 

When I was younger, I must admit I was a little shy around Grandpa. For one thing, I didn’t see him on a daily basis, so I wasn’t so emotionally attached to him; to identify him as someone I was connected to by blood was possible, yet it was odd to fathom I was that closely connected with someone whom I only saw every few years. I remember being so afraid of his scratchy beard as well. However, I mostly remember what a loving and playful person he was; I can still vividly remember almost all our interactions and memories. I am grateful for the time I knew Grandpa. I hold the utmost respect and love for him, and gaining insight on the life he lived creates a love that transcends death. Although time passes, the memory of a person’s life lives on. Memories and experiences may blur together, but they create one glowing fire that shines on as a reminder of the past—a reminder that a loved one is still there.

Endnotes:

*Ephrata is a small town in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. It was originally home to the Ephrata Cloister, a small religious community made up of German pacifists and founded by Conrad Beissel. Ephrata to this day is home to many Mennonite and Amish people, many of whom are of German descent. It only has one high school. To me, Ephrata kind of has that small town feel like Brownsville.

*The Ephrata Farmshow was and still is an annual event that takes place the third week of September. It is a community event that consists of contests. Participants can enter crops for crop exhibition, as well as farm animals.

*To learn more about these, please refer to my blog post called "Part II."

 Sources

"The Ephrata Cloister History." Ephrata Cloister, Ephrata, PA. The Ephrata Cloister, n.d. Web. <http://www.ephratacloister.org/>.

"About NEBH." Orthopedic Hospital & Care Center. New England Baptist Hospital, 2015. Web. <http://www.nebh.org/>.

"Three Mile Island." Three Mile Island Emergency. Dickinson College, 2007. Web. <http://www.threemileisland.org/>.

Other sources included emailing my grandmother, a letter from my great aunt, and my mother