We are visiting California and I know he lived there. He owned an antique store on Wilshire blvd and he used to tell us he owned 3 houses - one in the desert (Palm Springs) one in San Fransico and one in beverly hills (next to Carol Burnet).
His father and uncle owned all the first theaters here in Louisville. They had live show girls - Uptown, the Brown, Broadway theaters and all are still standing. When his Uncle died, I heard he left millions to the St. Joseph Orphanage and only 10,000 to his life-long house keeper. He also left 5,000 to my grandfather, he came into town and tried to protest the will. He hired some cheap lawyer and St. Joe's hired the best one in the state of Kentucky, guess who one?
He used to be a judge and justice of the peace in Louisville. He was married until my grandmother caught him in bed with another man. He moved (in total disgrace-it wasn't cool to be gay back then) out to California. He offered my Dad (16 years old) any kind of car he wanted, if he would come live with him. Instead he chose to stay behind and take care of his mother. She moved into one of their small rental properties off Bardstown road and drank herself almost to death. She worked downtown for Bremer Earl's office and often got too drunk in the morning at the bus stop to get on the bus. My mother told me she was often passed out on the bench at the bus stop and my father used to pick her up after school and bring her home to sober up. She finally stopped drinkng after the doctors in the hospital told her her liver was failing - she had to quit or die. She chose life, but she was not a happy person. She was a mean, bitter woman.
My grandfather on the other hand was very lively and fun to be around. He didn't come to visit often, but he did send boxes of little girl clothes from California about 2 times a year. Me and my 3 sisters used to fight over the clothes when they arrived in the mail. When I was sixteen he brought his mexican "friend" Tony with him to visit. I had no clue they were lovers. My mother asked me to drive them up Bardstown road so they could go antique shopping for his store on Wilshire Blvd. We ate at Kingfish and while eating he told me of how he and Tony were extras with a one liner in a Marco Polo movie. He said he had to yell "They are coming" - and he stood up and threw his arms up and screamed his one liner in the middle of the restaurant. The whole restaurant was starring at us. It was pretty funny. I thought he was awesome and I wanted to go to hollyw0od and be extras in movies just like him. I never did, he never even asked any of us to visit and now that I think about it, I probably saw him maybe 5-6 times in my life.
In the end, I heard he had alzheimer's disease and Tony put him in a nursing home for the last 10 years of his life. Tony said the nursing home ate up all his money, so there was no big inheritance for my Dad. It was probably a good thing, because by then, my father would have wasted it on women and alcohol. He inherited the disease from his mother, but no one has ever told him to stop or die. That's a whole other story.
My father's sister Barbara had 7 sons. They were all big tall blond boys, one died fighting wild fires in Arizonia.
My grandfather had a statue made for $10,000 of St. Micheal for his burial plot in Louisville. We were struggling with family finances at the time, so even though I was probably 8 years old, I can remember my mother's discust at the waste of money. When he died, Tony said it was too expensive to ship his body from California to Kentucky so he had him cremated. When the ashes arrived, I heard that my father was supposed to pay $500 for something, maybe shipping. He didn't have $500, so he never picked them up. Who knows what happened to the ashes?