Remembering little stories

It's nice that there are so many hilarious memories of my grandmother that I keep remembering ones I had almost forgotten about. She was a really strange and eccentric lady. If this wasn't obvious by her wrestling and yodeling careers, then I'll just have to tell you stories.

When I was two years old I was staying at grams' house, playing. There was this bee. Apparently, while I was rolling around on gram's bright orange shag carpeting the bee stung me. Well, Grams was soo angry at that be that she got a hammer and proceeded to chase the bee around the house with a hammer. When she finally did kill the bee, she whacked it a bunch more times, chopped it up into peices, put it in an envelope and sent it to my Aunt who was living in North Carolina at the time. No note. Just a destroyed bee in an envelope. I guess Grams expected Aunt Ida to get mad at the bee also and smash it even more.

Just more evidence on how much she loved us. You never wanted to get on her bad side.

I almost forgot to include. Today my dad helped me a lot in doing family tree research (just for fun) and found a lineage on my Grandmother's mother's side (last name Guile) all the way back to the revolutionary war. I had no idea there was family here that far back!

We are all warriors, afterall. Ha!

It's a shame that we will probably never know who my grandmother's father was. We think he was filipino? That's just a guess. As you can see she is dark. Inez, her mother, was not. Grams was an exotic lady! It's been suggested that her father was a sailor in san fran that Inez 'bumped' into while she was visiting with a friend. There are a bunch of stories pertaining to this particular situation but who knows which is correct. As far as I can tell, grams always looked native American or Latino or maybe even Asian. It's sad that some things you can never know the truth about.

First post on here: I am writing my grandmother's biography

Grams died this past January. Even though we all knew she was sick, it came as quite a shock to all of us. She was invincible! How could she die?

My grandmother was a professional wrestler...in the 50s. For anyone who may have heard of her, her stage name was Ida May Martinez. It seems impossible that she could even get hurt. She usually did the hurting.

Anyway, because she never finished her biography I am taking over the writing process. This endeavor is turning more and more into my own process of re-discovering my grandmother and not so much her actual story. We will see how it turns out. It might just develop into an amalgamation of her original story as well as my story of her, and her struggle with Alzheimer's. All of these things were, after all, entirely apart of her life.

In the end I hope to have published all the stories I can get from friends and family as well as any remaining wrestlers out there who have stories to share.

For this, I need to buy a camcorder. Ah the life of a poor artist.