ABE, ERNIE & A SHOTGUN

With most admirable love for her husband, Ibraheem Khalaf, my mother Zakiyat said to me back in the late 50’s.“There’s no man on the earth like your father.” 

This is one of many stories from Abraham Grocery store, renters and Church.

I call this one, Skiyi (short for Zakiyat) and the Minister

It was 7:30 when I came down from bed and found mom and the garbage collector having coffee at the kitchen table.  He wasn’t a stranger to me because I had seen him in the alley

I call this one ABE, ERNIE & A SHOTGUN

Mom (Zakiyat on the left) immigrated from Ain Arab "Arab Springs", a mountain village in Lebanon.  

Zakiyat (Skiyi) some years later.

Dad (Ibraheem - Abe) an American born Lebanese, worked at Wilsons Meatpacking plant for @ 20+ years as foreman of the hog and beef kill.

Opportunist that mom was and considering dad’s ability as a butcher, she saw a failing neighborhood bicycle shop as an opportunity.  She is likely solely credited for purchasing it and converting it into a grocery store, calling it Abraham Grocery. 

Dad had the ability to fix practically anything so Mom advanced from the bicycle shop into purchasing income property.  

One of her many purchases was a 4 unit apartment house directly across the street from the grocery store where this incident took place.  Ernie Lane and his wife Ruth rented a one bedroom upstairs apartment. 

 

One day Ruth, a tiny woman, came running into the store screaming "Abe, Abe come!  Ernie is drunk and has his shotgun!"   Dad was at the meat block.  He put down the knife.  With his apron still on he ran out the front door.  

But first, let me briefly describe Ernie and dad. Ernie was all of 6”2” or 3”, often dressed in a khaki shirt and khaki colored pants.  His shirt was often unbuttoned part of the way down, exposing his white haired chest.   Ernie had a thin mustache similar to one would see on Clark Gable in one of his movies.   As a matter of fact Ernie was as much Clark Gable as Clark Gable himself; handsome, rugged, sinewy, a man's man, magnetic.  Dad was quite good at assessing people and would allow Ernie to take me fishing; other times Ernie and I would sit next to the window in his tiny kitchen with a pellet rifle shooting at things in the coal yard behind the house.  

I loved Ernie. I wanted to be Ernie.  

Dad, on the other hand, was approximately 5’6’, stocky, with virtues distinctly recognized and felt by everyone who knew him, far too many for my young mind to absorb.

Dad got to the door before me.  Mom's pleading with me to stay in the store slowed me down for a moment but I quickly caught up to dad.  The door to Ernie’s apartment was closed.  Calmly but with irrefutable authority dad called out: “Ernie open the door”.  It scared me to death.  How could dad be so brave?   Although drunk, Ernie's affection for dad could be felt as he said:  “Step away Abe, I’ve got my shotgun and I’m going to blow the door.”  Dad immediately sent me down the hall as he stepped to the side.  Boom!   If you've ever heard a shotgun fired indoors, you know what it sounds like!  I unwisely returned as Dad entered the apartment. The door was shattered but much of it remained on the hinges. What an adventure for a grade school kid!   I wasn't ever afraid of Ernie but he was drunk, sitting with a shotgun across his lap!.  

Dad's wisdom and fearlessness was always bridled to his love of God and neighbor.   Valiantly but calmly he approached Ernie reprimanding him for drinking too much and for scaring Ruth.  Ernie slowly stood, towing like a giant over dad, he humbly handed dad the shotgun. 

Ruth was waiting with mom in the store and happy to see Ernie with dad.