Shared by Sandra Martin-Dalgarno on May 29, 2016

I remember Uncle Dean rubbing Aunt Isabelle's feet at the end of the day and calling her"baby girl". We would all be gathered around the table at a feast prepared by Aunt Isabelle and Uncle Dean would have Debbie on one side and Denny on the other feeding them dinner. I always thought he was such a handsome man who was the best husband and dad. Aunt Isabelle was a fabulous cook. Her freezers were always briming with food, much like mine! Her empanadas were so delish. We went to Panama and Jamaica with the Greigs with so many stories to tell. There was always lots of laughter and loud talking! I can still see them both dancing under the stars at the Tower Isle to the song Beyond the Reef, they were clearly in love and loved life especially their family!

Sandra Tarutis Martin Dalgarno

Remembering Daddy

Shared by Trudy Greig on May 7, 2016

        When my father passed away, a dear friend Kay lent her a book which had many eulogies and elegies, Remembrances and Celebrations edited by Jill Werman Harris.  This was her favorite one which reminded her of her husband whom she shared 51 wonderful years.  See thomas-greig@forevermissed.


Funeral Blues

W. H Auden


Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,

Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,

Silence the pianos, and with muffled drum

Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.


Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead

Scribbling on the sky the message He is dead,

Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,

Let the traffic policeman wear black cotton gloves.


He was my North, my South, my East and West,

My working week and my Sunday rest,

My moon, my midnight, my talk, my song;

I thought love could last for ever; I was wrong.


The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,

Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,

Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;

For nothing now can ever come to any good.

Lithuanian Gardening Song

Shared by Trudy Greig on May 7, 2016

I am not sure of this translation but we think that it is a gardening song that Mom often sang.  She is accompanied here by Debbie & Denny.

A Memory from Trudy & Deb

Shared by Trudy Greig on April 30, 2016

 We were talking about lots of different memories we shared over the years and this was a favorite one of both of ours.  In 1966 returning from Panama, we were re-stationed in New Jersey. After being in the tropics for four years we were really hoping for snow that winter. Yes, we had mastered lots of the traditions of the holiday at the equator.  Living thru the challenges of baking Christmas cookies, brownies and stolen when the air conditioning went out and we sweltered in the kitchen surrounded by plastic covered windows. Also reciting Christmas on the Isthmus instead of The Night Before Christmas.

Luckily, this Christmas we were not disappointed! Starting on the 23rd the sky became ominous and the day grew darker and it began to snow. By Christmas Eve when we had neighbors over to celebrate the holiday we could not get out the front door there was so much snow; everyone had to come in through the garage!!! We were in heaven and surrounded by fluffy cold white stuff playing outside till late with the Dennison Family. The epic Christmas Eve Snowstorm of 1966 is still talked about by meteorologists, (See blog of Christina Speciale on December 24th 2012), it was less than 2 feet but to us it was like 10.

The next day, Christmas morning, we were heading out to church when Mom fell backwards in the snow. We were so alarmed we ran over all shouting “What’s wrong, what’s wrong?” And Mom replied, “It’s time to make SNOW ANGELS” and in or Christmas best, she showed us how right then and there!!!

I still can remember looking out from the upstairs window that night and seeing all those snow angels silhouetted on the lawn and thinking of what a great Christmas it had been in this winter wonderland!

Christmus in the Isthmus

T'was the night before Christmas
     In this tropical land,
Not a thing was stlrring
    Excepting for our fan.

The Canal was all silent,
     Folks shared the same fear
Without any snow
     How could Santa get here?

Then out at the pier
     There arose such a clatter,
We rushed to our porch
     To see what was the matter!

From his Gig to the Seawall
     Santa leaped with a bound,
Then sprang to our rooftop
     And stood looking around.

Then he said with a chuckle,
     "By yumpin' yiminy . . . . .
First they don't have the snow,
    Now they don't have the chimney!

Inside of a twinkling,
     With steps light and sure,
He swung from the rooftop
     And entered our door.

Our stockings we'd hung
     By the window with care
Scarcely hoping Saint Nicholas
     Would ever look there.

But he found them O.K.
     And went to work with a grin.
The lack of a fireplace
     Couldn't stop him!

He pushed back his cap,
     Ran a hand through his hair,
Then left presents galore
     In a big bamboo chair.

He mopped his wet brow
     And sighed with great patience,
As he jokingly mumbled,
     "What a place to be stationed!"

Each quarters he visited,
     With the very same vim,
and when he had finished
     He went for a swim.

Then he boarded his Gig,
     And we all heard him say,
"It's not a white Christmas,
     But I made it O.K.! "

And we heard him exclaim,
     As he sailed out of sight -
"Merry Christmas to all,
     And to all a good night!"


Submitted by -
 Thomas Dean Greig  BHS '68

December 22, 1999

From Deb

Shared by Trudy Greig on April 30, 2016

There were so many wonderful memories that came to mind when thinking of Mom. 

 We would be driving down the road and Mom would shout “Stop the car!”  She would tell us to pull out the shovel and paper bags from the trunk where they always lived and then point in some direction to dig up a plant or a shrub or a tree.  Every flower and bush in her garden had a story, our Dogwood tree that is still thriving at Plymouth Ct came from Saylor’s Pond Road on the way to Ft. Dix. 

 Mom gave us all such an appreciation for the garden and though we didn’t know it at the time, also an appreciation of nature.

 She always said that being our Mother was the best!!!

 Love, Deb

Potato Pancakes

Shared by Trudy Greig on April 16, 2016

As a family, we always ate dinner together something that helped bond the family.  A fond memory of mine was about our "ethnic dinner" one night.  My Mom was of Lithuanian descent and loved potato pancakes, a taste she instilled in all her girls.  My Dad was a Southerner and did not care for them and never "got the hankering" for these fried treats like we did. 

So one night when my Dad had to go to a late meeting and miss dinner, something that didn’t happen very often, the girls decided to have an impromptu feast on potato pancakes.  Well, the sizzle of the first pancake had barely started popping out of the pan when the front door opened and my Dad walked in.  We all screamed at once as if we were caught in an illegal act! 

Needless to say my Dad was so startled he dropped his briefcase and then we all burst out laughing at once and all trying to explaining ourselves.  Of course, we made him something else to eat but not before we indulged in our potato pancakes.  I've included our favorite recipe.


Potato Pancakes

 We are purist when it comes to these delightful fried cakes also known as latkes.  Let the potatoes shine thru – grate coarsely and keep nice and loose when forming pancake, that way when you put them in the oil, they are crusted crisply. Served with a big dollop of sour cream and it becomes a heavenly meal!

6 old Potatoes, approximately

1 – 2 Eggs

1 -2 Tbsp Flour

Salt and pepper to taste

3 Cups Oil, approximately

Sour Cream to Desire

Peel and coarsely grate potatoes, the older potatoes are starchier and hold together better.  Mix in egg, two if the potatoes are large, sprinkle with flour, salt and pepper.  Heat an inch of oil in heavy frying pan.  Use slotted spoon to drain off the mixture when dropping potato mixture into oil (careful of splattering oil) making sure there’s plenty of room between each pancake, about three large ones and 4-5 small ones per pan.  Thinner cakes will be crisper, thicker ones will be cake like. 

Fry to golden brown, flip to other side.  It may be necessary to add more oil as the frying continues; let the oil heat up so the cakes don’t get soggy. Clean out dregs in oil as you go with slotted spoon.  Drain on brown paper bags.  We’ve learned to be first in line, so we can eat them piping hot right out of the pan with a huge dollop of sour cream! 

Serves four as main dish or 8 as a side dish.

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