Following chapters in the life of Gilbert Saarloos, we journey to Long Beach, 1943, a pivotal era where the foundations of his legacy as a true family man were solidified. After marrying and welcoming two sons, Larry and Harvey, this period marks the transformation of Gilbert into the patriarch remembered with deep affection and respect. This iteration of my grandfather, the “Family Man,” feels like the destiny he was always meant to fulfill. Having experienced profound loss early in life – the passing of his father and then his brother who became a father figure – Gilbert was now building his own family, a haven of love and togetherness.
Initially establishing a home, fate intervened as it was acquired and demolished to pave the way for the burgeoning 91 freeway. Undeterred, Gilbert constructed another home, a more intimate two-bedroom dwelling. One room was a sanctuary for him and his wife, while the other, a spacious upstairs area, was designed as a shared haven for his two sons. Eschewing walls, this large room was intended to foster brotherhood and closeness. I myself spent countless nights in that room, in the very bed my father once occupied, often waking to the comforting aroma of breakfast permeating the house. That home, always warm and welcoming with the promise of orange juice in the fridge, holds a significant place in my memories. A home truly reflects the essence of a family, and this one was imbued with my grandparents’ unique touch and values.
The thoughtful design of the house spoke volumes about Gilbert’s commitment to family unity. He incorporated ingenious features such as built-in hampers in the walls, facilitating effortless laundry sorting for whites, darks, dry cleaning, and jeans. He also created a dedicated space for family entertainment, pre-wired and custom-built for slide and movie projections on a blank wall. Every detail within that home was intentionally designed to nurture a close-knit family. Perhaps driven by a longing for the bond he might have shared with his older brother John, Gilbert meticulously crafted a home environment that prioritized togetherness for his own sons, a home that perhaps mirrored the familial ideal he envisioned for himself.
Family was paramount for my grandfather, and he extended this principle into his professional life, ensuring his sons remained close, both at home and in business. The office shared by my father, uncle, and grandfather mirrored the open-plan bedroom – no dividing walls, no partitions, just three heads of the business operating in a unified space. This unconventional setup fostered a unique dynamic. While “private” conversations could occur, with others in the room respectfully focusing on their work, the reality was that all three men were privy to the information, contributing to a collective awareness and understanding of all issues.
I recall a formative experience from my childhood, helping my grandfather open mail in this very office. It was there I received my first lesson in this concept of shared privacy. I overheard a disparaging remark directed at my father, voiced to my uncle while my father was present. Instinctively, I turned my head, but my grandfather, with a subtle yet firm gesture, redirected my attention back to our task, placing a finger to his lips to emphasize discretion and resuming his work. After the visitor departed, the three men engaged in a discussion, addressed the issue constructively, and efficiently moved forward.
These fleeting moments imparted profound and enduring lessons that have shaped my approach to life and work:
- Don’t take anything personally.
- Keep your mouth closed and ears open.
- Keep working.
- Fix the problem quickly.
- Be mindful of your presence and conduct in shared spaces.
This early lesson in shared space and unspoken communication is something I reflect upon constantly. To this day, I maintain close communication with my father, speaking with him multiple times daily. I find myself drawn to open, collaborative environments without barriers, and I prioritize efficient problem-solving, values undoubtedly instilled by my grandfather.
There’s wisdom in the adage, “Don’t build higher walls, build a longer table.” The essence of this resonates deeply with my grandfather’s approach: cultivate a strong family, and never allow walls, physical or metaphorical, to impede connection and understanding.
Gilbert Saarloos was not without his imperfections; he was known to be a demanding father. However, as a grandfather, he was unparalleled. He taught not through lectures, but through example. His life was a sermon lived out daily. He worked diligently, even on Saturdays, consistently being the first to arrive each day, making coffee and preparing the trucks for the drivers. Our lunches together were frequent and filled with open conversations where he patiently addressed my endless questions. He had a remarkable ability to fall asleep instantly when reclining, had a fondness for ice cream, and in the rare instance he expressed anger towards me, it was followed by a heartfelt explanation of his feelings and the significance of his late brother.
I vividly recall the introduction of my then-girlfriend, now wife, to my grandparents. My grandfather’s immediate reaction was telling. He looked at her, his face lit up with a warm smile, rose from his chair, and embraced her. Then, turning to me, he gave a resounding thumbs up of approval. My grandmother, observing this interaction, later inquired with a touch of playful skepticism, “Are you still seeing that girl with the painted lips and the thing in her nose?” My affirmative response was met with another approving thumbs up from Grandpa. In that moment, witnessing his genuine acceptance and warmth, I knew I would marry her. It was perhaps only our second date, but his reaction was that impactful.
Our family’s identity today is inextricably linked to this remarkable man. My grandmother was his perfect complement, his “foil,” as the original text mentions. Their partnership shaped our family’s values and trajectory. He exemplified how to love a wife, looking at my grandmother with the same adoration I see reflected in my own eyes for my wife, a legacy of love that extends through my father, brother, and uncle. Not a “foil” but rather a partner, working together, side-by-side, in the creation of our family.
I feel his absence every day. Yet, I also see reflections of his influence in my life daily. The values he embodied, the lessons he imparted, and the love he radiated as a family man continue to shape and guide me.
