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- Story Listed as: True Life For Adults
- Theme: Family & Friends
- Subject: Life Experience
- Published: 08/19/2022
“The Liars Club”, from ‘Loose Garments’
Born 1955, M, from Manasquan, NJ, United StatesThe Liars Club, an excerpt from ‘Loose Garments’
From The Sunday Times, dateline October 15, 1944, New Brunswick…
“Local Veteran of 52 Years at Sea Still Prefers Feel of Deck Under Feet and Lives on Boat on Canal”
Captain John W. Van Derveer, my maternal grandfather, did indeed spend most of his retirement living on the 35 foot, “ocean-going motor yacht”, Miss Camden. The human interest feature in The Sunday Times continues by stating how the boat “...is a familiar sight to the people who live along the Delaware and Raritan Canal”. This, according to local and family lore, needs no fact checking. But then the article plows ahead with the flamboyant subheading, “Skipper Sailed Seven Seas Before Dropping Anchor Here”, and what follows are some chronological inconsistencies, to put it mildly, in ‘Cap’ Van Derveer’s version of events.
By 1983 I was such a frequent local hardware store patron Al Dudka, the ancient proprietor, suggested I open a monthly charge account. It was while perusing my personal information and financial statements when Al paused, folded the application, and looked up over his magnifiers with rheumy eyes.
“Wait a minute, are you Dorothy Loretta’s boy?” Once my lineage was firmly established in Dudka’s extensive memory bank, he explained how he knew my grandfather...
“I was just a kid back then, geez, I think we still sold grain and feed. Anyway, your grandfather, John, and his buddies would sit around the wood stove on Friday and Saturday nights telling stories. If my brother and I were quiet, we’d get to sit by the door and listen. Behind their backs we called them The Liars Club, but that was just a name we made up.”
Dudka paused and his wistful expression told me he was no longer in the present but back at least fifty years ago at his dad’s store downtown. Perhaps he was wearing a newsboy cap, maybe even suspenders and woolen knickers, with fire light from the stove sparkling in his now clear, youthful eyes...
“Your grandfather always went last to tell a story, because his were the best,” Dudka said with a chuckle. “I still remember one about him spearing turtles along the canal,” he paused yet again to laugh at the memory, but then his raspy voice grew serious. “He stalked one all summer long, watching it grow week after week, waiting till the turtle had the most meat. Then after losing track of it for a few months, he jumped on a boulder to get a better view of the water. That’s when the rock he was standing on began crawling right into the canal, and Ol’ John finally found his turtle!” This retelling of my grandfather’s story set the old man to laughing so hard he went into a coughing fit.
The Sunday Times piece from 1944 goes on to state that Captain Van Derveer was aboard a salvage vessel called “...the Battler which left Philadelphia for Russia and the Black Sea,” and then continues on to tell “...of the rough diamonds which he [my grandfather] bought for a handful of coins from exiles in Siberia.”
After relating my chance encounter with Dudka to my mother, Dorothy Loretta reminisced about Al and also recalled her father spending lots of time at the old mercantile store. Then she told me the story of her wedding ring...
“When I said to my father I wanted to marry Buddy, he simply looked over the top of his newspaper and said, “‘Well ya ain’t living here.’” But then the very next week he took his favorite ring to Tiffany in New York and had it melted down into two rings. The one with the big diamond he gave to me and the two smaller diamonds he set in a gold band for Buddy. You see, he knew we didn’t have any money but wanted us to exchange rings. He really was a sentimental, kind man, he just didn’t want any more people living in the house.”
I was familiar with the rings Dorothy Loretta was speaking about. Two years before this conversation took place, when I got married, she gave me Buddy’s ring as a wedding gift. Someone familiar with gems suggested I get it appraised and tack the value onto my homeowners policy. When the jeweler explained his estimated replacement cost of over $5,000 was, “...due to the clarity of the stones,” he also said, “...they’re probably impact diamonds, usually found in Siberia.” They’re also found at Tiffany & Co, New York.
While my mother sat, eyes misting over with fond memories of men she once loved, I unfolded the old Sunday Times article and asked if she thought her dad may have actually gotten those stones from Siberia. This snapped Dorothy Loretta right out of her nostalgic melancholy.
“Is that a serious question?” she sputtered, gulping for air between laughs. “Cause’ if it is, you’re more gullible than that dopey Times reporter!”
When my mother continued she sounded exasperated, like a press secretary for some loose lipped politician having to spin for the public yet again her boss’s flippant remarks.
“Look,” she said with a sigh. “Your grandfather was captain of a tug that floated large equipment on barges for the Pennsylvania Railroad to and from New Brunswick and New York. While doing so he managed to raise five kids, including yours truly. So where would he find time to sail to Siberia? For that matter, is it even possible to sail to Siberia?”
I thought it prudent at this juncture in the conversation not to bother asking about Cap’s other claims in the Sunday Times article. Like the one regarding his time spent on the Mandun Star. According to my grandfather, this ship made the run around Cape Horn where “...the islands of the vast Pacific were his backyard.” Or the one where he states, “I put out from New Bedford, Mass. on a whaling vessel that made the trip to the Yukon to hunt down whales for blubber.” If I didn’t raise any of these questions about Captain John W. Van Derveer’s tales with my mother nearly forty years ago, there’s probably no point in raising them now. Better I sit quietly by the door, like Al Dudka, and just listen.
Thanks for reading,
Bill Bader
“The Liars Club”, from ‘Loose Garments’(Still Bill)
The Liars Club, an excerpt from ‘Loose Garments’
From The Sunday Times, dateline October 15, 1944, New Brunswick…
“Local Veteran of 52 Years at Sea Still Prefers Feel of Deck Under Feet and Lives on Boat on Canal”
Captain John W. Van Derveer, my maternal grandfather, did indeed spend most of his retirement living on the 35 foot, “ocean-going motor yacht”, Miss Camden. The human interest feature in The Sunday Times continues by stating how the boat “...is a familiar sight to the people who live along the Delaware and Raritan Canal”. This, according to local and family lore, needs no fact checking. But then the article plows ahead with the flamboyant subheading, “Skipper Sailed Seven Seas Before Dropping Anchor Here”, and what follows are some chronological inconsistencies, to put it mildly, in ‘Cap’ Van Derveer’s version of events.
By 1983 I was such a frequent local hardware store patron Al Dudka, the ancient proprietor, suggested I open a monthly charge account. It was while perusing my personal information and financial statements when Al paused, folded the application, and looked up over his magnifiers with rheumy eyes.
“Wait a minute, are you Dorothy Loretta’s boy?” Once my lineage was firmly established in Dudka’s extensive memory bank, he explained how he knew my grandfather...
“I was just a kid back then, geez, I think we still sold grain and feed. Anyway, your grandfather, John, and his buddies would sit around the wood stove on Friday and Saturday nights telling stories. If my brother and I were quiet, we’d get to sit by the door and listen. Behind their backs we called them The Liars Club, but that was just a name we made up.”
Dudka paused and his wistful expression told me he was no longer in the present but back at least fifty years ago at his dad’s store downtown. Perhaps he was wearing a newsboy cap, maybe even suspenders and woolen knickers, with fire light from the stove sparkling in his now clear, youthful eyes...
“Your grandfather always went last to tell a story, because his were the best,” Dudka said with a chuckle. “I still remember one about him spearing turtles along the canal,” he paused yet again to laugh at the memory, but then his raspy voice grew serious. “He stalked one all summer long, watching it grow week after week, waiting till the turtle had the most meat. Then after losing track of it for a few months, he jumped on a boulder to get a better view of the water. That’s when the rock he was standing on began crawling right into the canal, and Ol’ John finally found his turtle!” This retelling of my grandfather’s story set the old man to laughing so hard he went into a coughing fit.
The Sunday Times piece from 1944 goes on to state that Captain Van Derveer was aboard a salvage vessel called “...the Battler which left Philadelphia for Russia and the Black Sea,” and then continues on to tell “...of the rough diamonds which he [my grandfather] bought for a handful of coins from exiles in Siberia.”
After relating my chance encounter with Dudka to my mother, Dorothy Loretta reminisced about Al and also recalled her father spending lots of time at the old mercantile store. Then she told me the story of her wedding ring...
“When I said to my father I wanted to marry Buddy, he simply looked over the top of his newspaper and said, “‘Well ya ain’t living here.’” But then the very next week he took his favorite ring to Tiffany in New York and had it melted down into two rings. The one with the big diamond he gave to me and the two smaller diamonds he set in a gold band for Buddy. You see, he knew we didn’t have any money but wanted us to exchange rings. He really was a sentimental, kind man, he just didn’t want any more people living in the house.”
I was familiar with the rings Dorothy Loretta was speaking about. Two years before this conversation took place, when I got married, she gave me Buddy’s ring as a wedding gift. Someone familiar with gems suggested I get it appraised and tack the value onto my homeowners policy. When the jeweler explained his estimated replacement cost of over $5,000 was, “...due to the clarity of the stones,” he also said, “...they’re probably impact diamonds, usually found in Siberia.” They’re also found at Tiffany & Co, New York.
While my mother sat, eyes misting over with fond memories of men she once loved, I unfolded the old Sunday Times article and asked if she thought her dad may have actually gotten those stones from Siberia. This snapped Dorothy Loretta right out of her nostalgic melancholy.
“Is that a serious question?” she sputtered, gulping for air between laughs. “Cause’ if it is, you’re more gullible than that dopey Times reporter!”
When my mother continued she sounded exasperated, like a press secretary for some loose lipped politician having to spin for the public yet again her boss’s flippant remarks.
“Look,” she said with a sigh. “Your grandfather was captain of a tug that floated large equipment on barges for the Pennsylvania Railroad to and from New Brunswick and New York. While doing so he managed to raise five kids, including yours truly. So where would he find time to sail to Siberia? For that matter, is it even possible to sail to Siberia?”
I thought it prudent at this juncture in the conversation not to bother asking about Cap’s other claims in the Sunday Times article. Like the one regarding his time spent on the Mandun Star. According to my grandfather, this ship made the run around Cape Horn where “...the islands of the vast Pacific were his backyard.” Or the one where he states, “I put out from New Bedford, Mass. on a whaling vessel that made the trip to the Yukon to hunt down whales for blubber.” If I didn’t raise any of these questions about Captain John W. Van Derveer’s tales with my mother nearly forty years ago, there’s probably no point in raising them now. Better I sit quietly by the door, like Al Dudka, and just listen.
Thanks for reading,
Bill Bader
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Kevin Hughes
08/21/2022Aloha Still Bill,
Oh what a grand read this was! Funnily enough, I just posted a story about my own journey down memory lane when I saw you had posted this story. I know many people like your Granddad....and I might even be one of them. My Dad used to say (and unlike me he did not talk a lot0:
"Kevin, if some poor little chamelon wants to claim his great great great grandfather (on his Mother's side) was a Brontasaurus ...who cares, as long as he tells a good tale."
This was a good tale!
Smiles, Kevin
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Still Bill
08/21/2022Thanks Kevin. These characters we speak of somehow seem larger than life, almost legendary. Despite my best efforts to debunk the myths, they just continue to grow…we should be so fortunate.
Bill
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Mark
08/20/2022So interesting to dig up stories on stories from the past. Many stories told over the centuries now written!
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