Gary M. Pomerantz

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A Story of Family: In search of Grandpa's world

A visit to the old neighborhood ...

... mirrors the
journey of a lifetime

The Atlanta Journal and Constitution
February 1, 1998

By Gary M. Pomerantz
Staff writer

Early one morning, I hear a knock on my motel room door. It's my father, and he hands me a small jewelry box. "Here, I want to give you this," he says. Inside the box is an old and scuffed gold ring with a single diamond and the initials "PP."

I recognize it at once as Grandpa's. Dad's been wearing this ring since 1968 when he pulled it off his dead father's finger as an enduring memory of an enigmatic man. If you look carefully, you can make out the shape of a mermaid, raised from the ring's surface, on the side, next to the initials.

"I thought Kremenchuk was the perfect place to give this to you," Dad says. "And today's the perfect day ---Grandpa's birthday.

"He would have been 98 years old."

"Are you sure you want to give this up?" I ask. Dad nods. I slide the ring on my finger; it's about three sizes too big. Dad says, "Now it ought to be good for at least another 30 years."

I feel suddenly closer to my grandfather. By giving me the ring, I sense that Dad feels closer to Grandpa, too.

One day, I know, this ring will belong to one of my sons.

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