Mahogany Man

Mahogany Man, carved by Unknown Soldier.

This is a wood carving that I got from my grandfather, who received it as a gift from a man whose life he had saved during WWII. He always kept in his living room on a shelf, and one day noticed me admiring it. "You know," he said, "I got that from a man who wouldn't be alive today if it wasn't for me." He never ever did get into the details, including proffering the name of the man who did the carving. I'd beg as a kid to hear war stories, but he just wouldn't talk about it.

Awhile ago, and back when my grandfather was still alive, I had a collection of African masks that totally horrified my mother and occupied an entire wall in my townhouse. Ever a Yank, Gramp offered to trade the object of my admiration for another suitable "knick-knack." Off I went to scour the antique stores, and we finally settled on a proper transaction. My Gramp was generous to a fault, but believed in teaching us the value of things and the importance of working for what you wanted.

The carving is made from a solid piece of mahogany, and is very heavy. It means a lot to me, because now Grampy Dike is gone. Now, before you snicker, you should know that I come from a long line of fine Irish stock and "Dike" is an old-timey Irish/English nickname for Richard. His name was Richard F., and there was an old joke in town that the "F" stood for "Fear Not."

My grandfather can best be described as was written in the Washington Record (1935, page 47)(yearbook of Washington Academy in East Machias, ME):

Heard in English class:
Hatfield: "Richard, have you written your theme on the ball game?"
Richard: "No."
Hatfield: "You have three minutes to write it in."
Richard pondered away for about two minutes and passed in his paper. It read as follows -- "Rain. No game."

Yep, that's my Grampy Dike. A man of few words, with a succint wit and dry humor, but always able to meet the demands of any assignment.