It’s Pop’s 84th birthday, and just because he has to spend it in Heaven doesn’t mean we can’t celebrate it down here.
Share your favorite Pop memory in the comment section below. I’ll start.
I have two: the first is the time that squirrel fell on Pop’s head in Coral Springs and did the Road Runner shuffle until his bucket hat flew off. The second is the time my mom shot Pop in the chest with a vacuum. She burned off all his chest hair and the push back put a dent in the kitchen wall. Jesus Christ Jeanette!
Ok, go! Celebrate the spirit of Pop today with a cold beer and a funny story. And maybe a good bar fight or two.
10 responses to “Happy Birthday Poppy!”
I have so many memories I could share and all of them would be my favorite. For now I will just pick out one. (I may however be back on the blog to share more). Once every couple of months my Dad (Pop) would realize that his kids needed to be reeled in. It was at that time that he would call a family meeting. It was always after dinner. We would sit at the dinner table and listen to him relay his message. He would always get all of us talking. It was like a cleansing. He would listen to our gripes and then solve our problems with words of good advice. And, after all was said and done, you could see him wipe the tears in his eyes. I am hoping that they were tears of pride and happiness. Oh, and once the meeting was over, he would give us all money. We all went away happy.
I was at (but not a voting member) plenty of family meetings – and never got a “dime”. I will say – the meetings were a success and he has a lot to be proud of – with more to come. Have a Happy Birthday Mr. Turnbull
My favorite memory of POP is when I was growing up and we would have family dinners and the phone would ring and we would say it’s POP who wants to get it. One of us would pick up the phone and say hi POP and he would say your eating dinner right and we would yes how did you know. We could eat dinner at all different times and he would still manage to call during dinner. It was like he could see us through some kind of glass when he was living down the street from us in Hartsdale or living in Long Island he always managed to get us. I Love and miss POP so so much. I am so grateful for everything he did for us and gave us. Happy 84th Birthday.
“Megan!!! Megan!!! MEGAN!!! Your mother is on the phone!!!”
“Pop, who’s Megan? None of us are named Megan!”
“How the hell am I supposed to know?!? Her mother’s on the phone!”
“Hi Kelly, it’s Mrs. Logan, is Lauren there?”
Happy Birthday Pop! Love, Dr. Sam
(ps – I never heard the vacuum story. How have I never heard that? I’m LOL’ing in the hospital again and people are looking at me)
I remember my first conversation with Pop. Uncle Den tells me to bring Pop a beer at the tailgate after the Army game. And for the next half hour he gives me his State of the Union address. I realize that he is only person more conservative in the world then me.
And after Pop’s passed away and we had a big game I always told the team he had money on the game so don’t screw it up. He always covered the spread in those games.
I have two things that really stick out for me. The first is probably a memory/image that most of us have of Pop. I can still see him sitting at the breakfast table in Center Moriches, gray sweatpants, white t-shirt, brown slippers, 4 pairs of glasses on his head, reading one paper, asking Nana where his “other” glasses were, while she brought out more eggs and juice for the table.
But one memory I have is more of a second hand story that Pop added to over the years. Apparently when I was little, Pop took his turn at knocking me off (which was something like the third attempt at getting rid of me – – i.e. feeding me contaminated water for like 8 states and leaving me in a cemetery as a joke!!). Anyway, Pop bravely carried his grandson into the ocean with his glasses and hat intact, and a few moments later picked himself up off the ocean floor without any of the three remaining. The story varies based on who is recounting the details, and Pop boldly claims that he was throwing me towards shore to save my life, sparing his own. And the wave (some recall it being a ripple) grew to freak tsunami status over the years, as only Pop could recall. Either way, Pop’s version was always better!!
Love you and miss you…Happy Birthday Pop
Thanks Pop for teaching us the “Tom Sawyer technique” of getting things done – you guys know what I’m talking about.
Though we’ll never master it quite as well as Pop, we use it as often as possible!
Happy Birthday POP!
I have a great one that just proves that Pop would do anything for his grandkids.
The salon was opened for a few months and Pop drove Nana up to come see the place. In perfect Pop fashion he walks in with his jeans and high tops(not laced up) with white socks. My client says to me,”that’s your grandfather? Cool shoes!”
So Nana and Pop looked around the salon and loved what their daughter had accomplished. With that Pop sits in my chair and says,”so what are we doing to my hair today?” I looked at Pop and said, “what do you mean?”
Long story short, I ended up putting foils in the front of what little hair Pop had left. (just between you and I, we used conditioner in the foils) But Pop thought it was real color! Never asked what color his hair would come out or how ridiculous he would probably look with strips of blue in the front of his hair. All that man ever cared about was making us happy and confident!
The greatest part of the story is every few minutes Pop would call me over and ask me to check on his “foils”. I would tell him,”they are looking good Pop”. And when it was all over and I washed the foils/conditioner out and Pop’s hair and he looked in the mirror and said, “It looks perfect…Lindsley!” Leave it to Pop to make you feel great about something that he couldn’t even see! Miss you Pop
Well, even though I am a day late to wish our favorite Uncle Curley a very happy birthday (my Mom’s 86th was Sept 7 and we’ve had lots of out-of-town relatives for the big occasion!), I also wanted to share my very first memory of Pop! Cousin Bobby and I flew to NY for Matt and Marcy’s wedding (way back when) and of course I had never met the infamous East Coast Turnbull clan and was a tad bit intimidated. I can’t remember the name of the establishment (aka: bar, gin mill, whatever!) that we ended up, but as Bob was busy with all of his cousins laughing and reminiscing, and I felt a little “wall-flowerish”, and what “Knight in shining armor” came to my rescue?? POP!!! He invited me to sit on the stool next to him and bought me a drink and made sure I felt welcome and part of this amazing and loving family!! We have been fortunate to spend many more happy times with Uncle Curley, Aunt Rusty and the rest of the “crazy cousins”. We miss you Curls so very much, and thank you for being so great to the four of us!! Love, “Idaho Donster”, Bobby, Robbie and Tim
Having trouble typing this – still crying – I know POP was so proud of each and everyone of you. I miss him a lot – Going to check in with him now at the cemetary. Love all you kids Ray T.