My Grandmother’s Fostoria
They were displayed in a corner cabinet made of maple–beautiful pink crystal stemware that I spied as a little girl in her apartment in Hollywood. She moved to Tinseltown when she retired after twenty years of teaching first grade in Santa Barbara. My older brother was in the last class she taught. Mrs. Jackson was what he called her at school. At home we called her Geeg.
Hollywood? I’m not really sure why she moved there. She worked at Haggerty’s, an upscale department store in Beverly Hills. She always dressed well. My mom would drive 100 miles and two hours south for us to visit, and sometimes I got to stay for a couple of days–just me and Geeg. She pushed two big overstuffed chairs together for my makeshift bed. She talked about someone named Fred with whom she went ballroom dancing, and played the music of Russ Morgan on her record player. She got out the Fostoria, to show me. I thought the glasses were the most beautiful color of pink I had ever seen. I still do.
She moved back to Santa Barbara and lived with us. She thought my dad was a saint because he remodeled the garage at our home so she could have her own space. The corner cupboard came with her, and her pink Fostoria, too. She watched soap operas on the color TV that my dad bought her–As the World Turns, The Edge of Night, Days of Our Lives–rarely missing an episode.
When I married for the first time in my mid-twenties, she presented me with her Fostoria. They were her prized possession. I’m not sure if I ever thanked her enough. I didn’t have much call to use them, but I loved looking at them. My friend Lauretta loved them, too. She told me that if I ever wanted to sell them, she would love to have them.
When I was really short of cash and needed to feed my family, I remembered Lauretta’s offer. What would Geeg have done? I thought long and hard about selling them. Family came first. I called Lauretta and offered her the glasses. She was overjoyed to receive them. I had enough money to buy groceries for a while.
A month ago, as I was driving near Lauretta’s home, I decided to knock on her door to say hello. We hadn’t seen each other for at least fifteen years and during that time her beloved husband had passed away. She welcomed me inside and we had a lovely chat catching up on the years we had missed. I showed her pictures on my phone of my son, the little boy she had known, who is now a man. She told me how proud she was of me becoming a published author.
As I was getting ready to leave, she mentioned Geeg’s Fostoria. She told me that she was returning the crystal to me. I offered to pay, but she gave me a hug and said no. She told me that she knew when I sold them to her that I was going through a rough patch, but that Geeg had given them to me, and that’s where they belonged.
Thank you, Lauretta…and thank you, Geeg.
Geeg’s Fostoria
As it should be. Lovely.
Thank you, Amy.
Your lovely story made me cry. I hope you enjoy using them now!
Oh I do! I love having them back with me. I’ve shared the story with my son, Duncan so that he will know their history, too.
Kate you brought tears to my eyes also. Just think, you were blessed to have Geeg and all her memories she shared with you and she loved you so much she gave the glasses to you. Then when you needed help you were blessed to have a friend to help you out….then then after all these years …Oh what a friend she is to gift them to you so again you can see those beautiful glasses and remember all the good times you had with Geeg. I am so happy for you.
I have a set of Pink glasses too ……. I found in an antique store in Pasadena N THE 80’S. The owner claimed they came from the Estate of Sidney Greenstreet. Do you remember that actor or are you too young! My glasses are packed away somewhere in my storage….but they are delicate with gold trim. I think I may have to find them and find a place for them so I can see them and dream of the parties they were a part of. Thanks for sharing your wonderful story
Phyllis
Indeed, I do remember Sidney Greenstreet the films he was in, especially Casablanca and The Maltese Falcon. Please do find those special glasses. I would love to see a photo of them. 🙂
I am deeply touched by your story of Geeg and her Fostoria. I was misty eyed by the time I finished reading it.
Thank you for sharing it with us!
She was a force and sometimes she could be frustratingly stubborn, but we loved her so much. She was a single mom of two during the Depression years. Thank you for joining me today!
In an interview, Oprah was telling a story of visiting her beloved friend, Luther Vandros. He served her lemonade in beautiful crystal goblets & said “….everyday, every moment we should celebrate…”. ENJOY your Fostoria, sip from their loveliness! ❤️
She is so right. Here’s to celebrating every moment!
Wonderful story. Your glasses are Fostoria pink Versailles. One of my favorites that I have collected for years. I hope you enjoy and use them. I do just love to look at them also. It makes them even more special when you know and love who they belonged to. I purchased mine from a little shop. For my daughters 40 birthday I gave her eight of the blue Versailles goblets. Thank you for sharing your beautiful memories with us.
Kelly- I’m so glad to know the name of the pattern. Thank you!
What a lovely story and the glasses are SO pretty! Lauretta is a true friend!
Yes, she is!
What a beautiful story and what a beautiful friend for giving them back to you. So happy they’re back with you.
Me too, Vicki. 🙂
Ah… tomorrow I will be dusting off the Fostoria my parents received 81 years ago as a wedding gift and toasting to their dear, dear memory.
Marianne
I’ll raising a glass to them as well, Marianne. 🙂
That is such a lovely story, as well as a wonderful reminder to enjoy the special people and special things in our lives. The crystal is beautiful, and I love those plates as well! Wishing you many celebrations!
Thank you so much Sandi. I love those plates, too.
What a great story. Also, what an amazing friend Lauretta is. She always knew she was just taking care of them for you all these years. You are blessed to have her in your life.
That’s exactly how it seems. She is a wonderful, caring, and kind person.
No fair making me cry when I’ve just put on my makeup in the morning! What a lovely story, and truly beautiful crystal ware.
I cry easily, too…especially when I see the very personal things that I have collected, and realize that they all hold memories for me. Thanks for your kind words, Julie.
You have shared a wonderful and warm story, but then you are a terrific storyteller and I love that about you. Hugs to you, Duncan, and the fur babies!
Oh Ann, thank you so much. I think you are a great storyteller, too. xo
Ah, pink glasses have been a part of my life for the last 43 years. My aunt Hilda was the funniest person any of us knew. She was not well enough to attend my wedding in 1975. It was special because she had gotten her mother’s (my grandmother who died when I was 6 weeks old) wedding dress out of the cedar chest in her attic the year before. It had been wrapped in old sheets and was in perfect condition despite it’s 70 year old history. I had it professionally washed, donned it for pictures and couldn’t wait to show Aunt Hilda. She almost burst with pride! She asked me if I’d like her china and stemware for a wedding present . I’d never seen it. She had kept it packed away in the closet. When she received it in the 30’s most fine china and glassware was bought at a jewelry store. Her best friend ran the jewelry store, so she knew it was good quality. Of course, I have cherished it all these years and set the table with it for many a dinner party. It’s the pink of shrimp and the short champagne glasses looked beautiful with a shrimp cocktail. I’ve added to it when I’ve found it in antique stores. My Aunt Hilda was a smoker and died in her house when a cigarette smoldered in her chair. Most of the house was destroyed in the fire. I’m so glad I had the china and pink glass . It has truly been a treasure.
Oh my! What a story, Becky. I’m so sorry that she died in the fire, but it is wonderful to have the china and pink crystal by which to remember her.