Gilbert Holland Storrs (1886 - 1956)

While I recall hearing stories about Grandpa Storrs wild days - I also clearly remember my own experiences with him. He had a gentle side to him & did things like teach me how to plant radishes & the likes. I noticed how twisted his arthritic hands & fingers were & felt sorry for him. Little did I know that in years to come, my own father, Richard, would have similar hands. The front hall of the farm house was off limits to us kids so my cousins & I had to use the back door to enter & exit the house. Why? Well, Grandpa always kept his shotgun loaded & ready to pick off Blue Jays who robbed nests in the huge trees off the front veranda. The gun leaned in the coat rack & went off accidentally once - blowing holes in the ceiling. We were often afraid of Grandpa but our behaviors came under the heading of "respect". I watched he & my grandmother (Mary) wall-paper the living room once & the more he hollered, the faster I rocked in my little chair set on the hearth. The only time I stood up to him was when I was in the kitchen next to Grandma & he was sitting at his post looking out the window. The view out that window offered a wonderful sight of the main road, the common, & the parsonage where Hollis Bartlett lived when he was first in Coventry. He told me to stop sucking my thumb & I refused. He told me again & I simply looked at him blankly. Then he said, "Mary! Spank that kid!" Well, she didn't but I stopped.