My grandpa on my mothers side served in the German army in WW2, he joined closer to the end of the war when they ran out of men (he was 16 or so at the time). He also was a big fan of Hitler, and believed that he did great things for Germany. My great-uncle also fought on the German side, and was captured by the Soviets. The Soviets treated him and the other prisoners really horribly, feeding them consisted of throwing a few live rats into their cell.
My grandma on the same side of the family grew up in East Germany but would routinely sneak over to West Germany to bring food, and meet with relatives. Not sure how she did it though. She also talked about how terrible the Soviet soldiers were to the civilians. If it was discovered that someone was helping the Nazi's they would nail the whole family's tongues to the kitchen table.
My grandpa on my dad's side served in the Canadian army in WW2, not too sure about his story though. My grandpa died relatively young, he turned to drinking because of what he experienced in war.
I could share some really cool stories about Dad, but it's probably too confidential to share over a message board. My dad was a bad-ass and a hero :)
My dad is a blackbelt in karate.
My dad has met, and had a drink with, Chuck Norris.
I got stabbed in the shoulder by an angry somolian once.
My grandpa killed Japanese people in WWII and looted their bodied, bringing home stuff like pictures of Japanese families and coins.
My uncle is in the Hell's Angels.
My grandpa got attacked by his own men and almost left for dead in WWII and lost an eye in a jeep accident.
My dad got shot in the arse with a shotgun loaded with rocksalt and had it dug out by his neighbor via pocket knife.
One of my uncles has had a collector motorcycle longer than he's been married.
I enjoy long walks on the beach.
I really needed to make an account for this:
Once, When he was about my age (14) he stole a WHOLE cash register because he couldn't get the money out of it. And my mom had weed at the age of 16. Oh and my dad once had a fight with someone and broke his: Nose, Jaw and arm. No fvcking joke.
My great-grandfather was a pacifist during the Korean War and passed down his M1911A1 every generation to me so far after it saved his ass on one certain occasion. My grandmother had her ass slapped by Bill Clinton when she was his maid some lifetime ago. My grandfather was a basketball player that got along with the town law enforcement and would have his cop buddies chase his ass through town back in the 60's in his muscle car (Dodge Charger?).
The ship my father immigrated to America on sank. I only know this because some guy wanting to write a book about the ship keeps sending us letters. His brother and father both drowned, so he never brings it up or goes into much detail.
[url]http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/SS_Andrea_Doria[/url]
My dad was held up at a Starbucks.
My mum cashed in a check for Rick Astley the day never gonna give you up went number one.
My dad was so drunk once that he threw up onto a towel, and then was terrified because he thought he threw up his liver (mixed it with the towel).
Also, my mother and her friend tried to talk to a ghost once. They were alone in the house and there was a flower in a vase somewhere in the room. Suddenly, the flower went upwards and dropped outside of the vase. Sometimes later, they tried the ouija board. They asked the board who are they speaking to, and the board responded "devil".
My parents never really did anything, but my grandpa was a rebel in the Nazi overtaken Norway in ww2.
Dad smokes pot. True blue Australian there.
My dad use to go for joy rides at night when he was 15 by releasing the brakes and slowly rolling out of the slanted street and stopping the engine on top of a hill and rolling down in front of the house to park when he got back. He got caught when he dodged a car that was in the wrong lane and hit his side mirrors off, he got his ass beat that day.
My dad takes care of the (in some cases demented) elderly. One day one of the old ladies gave him a freshly picked plum, as a way to say thanks for all your care. For the moment he put it in the pocket of his uniform.
As the day progressed, he started smelling some awful smell. Only when he took out the plum, he noticed it wasn't a plum at all. Turns out that 'plum' was a nicely rolled up ball of shit, and started melting+smelling in the heat of underneath his uniform.
The stench was on his hands for a week...
My mom used to hide a big bottle of hash oil in a cabin near my grandparents' house, and she told her cousin about it, and she never saw it again.
My great grandfather was a British tank commander during WW2, he served in Africa under the 8th army, 9th lancers "Desert Rats"
He told me this incredible story when he was about 89, a couple of years before he passed.
He was sat in his tank, driving down a seemingly empty road with his crew when they came to a blockade, so they turned the tank sharp right to traverse around the concrete blockade when they hear a loud explosion and a considerable amount of dust clouds their vision.
Turns out they'd been ambushed by a small company of Italians, whom at the time were on the Germans side.
My Grandfather, and his crew were then escorted deep into enemy territory, and taken into a makeshift command bunker to await a German officer.
The German officer enters the room, asks whose in charge and naturally my Grandfather speaks out. He's then taken to a private room to speak with the German. Randomly, after a short conversation the German soldier speaks a peculiar sentence "You're from Mansfield, aren't you?" Now, at this point my Grandfather is completely flabbergasted, he asks the German how he knows he's from Mansfield (A small town in England)
The German tells my grandfather that he installed machinery at the same factory where my granddad worked before the war, and recognised my Grandfather, and his distinctive regional accent.
The German then returns all of the items the Italians had taken from my Grandfather, boots, weapons, personal stuff.
He then takes them to a captured British vehicle and escorts them, alone, back to allied territory.
About a week after that incident, my Grandfather was walking through a market in a small town when he's stabbed through the upper back by a random villager, he then had to fight for his life, and obviously came out on the plus side.
He was a truly inspirational man, after the war was over he became a bus driver, he drove buses to other countries on holiday tours and even went to Italy. He also drove public transport buses, he was driving a school journey one day when a kid jumped out in front of the bus, my Grandfather couldn't stop the bus in time and the boy was killed on the scene, from that day he swore to never drive again, and he was true to his word.
He taught me to stand up for what I believe in, to hold no grudge, and most of all, to respect life.
My mom was in Ukraine during Tchernobyl
i just realized i dont know anything about my parents life.
anything
:(
My dad was a DJ for about 10 years. In my mum's words, "He probably had more girls than vegetables"
My Granddad got a medal in WW2 for making a stretcher out of broken rifles and carrying one of his friends from the front line to one of the medical hospitals. He wrote down his entire record of the war, I'm going to find those books, correct his terrible grammar and type it up. Possibly even try and get it published if it's interesting enough
My grandmother seen The Beatles in The Cavern before they were famous.
When my dad was 13 or something, he was riding his bike down a steep hill. When he got to the bottom he found out his break were broken and slammed into a brick wall, putting him into a coma. He woke up a week later with priests over him praying. The doctors told my grandma that he wasn’t going to make it.
Also, when he was 19, he worked at Microsoft filling up the pop machines. He would talk to Bill Gates from time to time. A year ago he installed a gas line at Bill Gates house.
my great granddad bombed London in WW2
My dad has found himself in lots of weird, crazy and plain dangerous situations.
During the Iranian revolution in the 70s, some "cops" (religious "cops" that are free to do whatever they want because the government says so, technically not cops) tried to steal my uncle's motorcycle and my dad shows up and pushes one of the cops into ditch or something.
It ends with him feeling a warmth at the back of his head. Turns out a second "cop" hit him in the back of the head with a baton. Quite hard..
Another time he was traveling, basically, hitchhiking from a place far away from his hometown where he was working. He got a ride from a truck driver who says he has to take a break and runs off to sleep under a tree. Several hours pass and my dad goes to check on him and sees that the driver was high on opium. :v:
There is so much stuff that I can't even begin to try and remember them all. The stories are quite hilarious at times.
[B]Edit:[/B]
Ah. Turns out my great-great-grandfather (not exactly sure how many generations back) on my mother's side founded one of the first schools in Shiraz, if not the first. (One of the largest cities in Iran.)
my great grandpa wrote the instruction book for the first ever commercial radio
my other grandpa was also on juno beach and was one of the only surviving men from his town to make it off the beach
My grandfather died of complications from Agent Orange just after my dad graduated high school. My dad tried to go to college and ended up dropping out. He was also in the USMC but was honorable discharged a short time after boot camp for having developed Bipolar Disorder. He doesn't like to talk about his past much.
My Father has traveled around the world, visiting World Heritage Sites (It's quite possible that he has been to more than anyone else.) He's been to about 125 countries, a majority of them more than once. He recently completed a round-the-world trip in one, popping into hospital for a triple-bypass just months after he got back.
My Mum is pretty cool, worked in Theater for most of her life, has been to more parties than even the 'coolest' of my friends.
My parents are deeeeaaaaaad!
I'm kidding, but my parents haven't done a lot.
My uncle told me that when he was a kid he worked in his fathers hot rod shop. And he would occasionally take out their shop car and stuff to drive around the streets. One night he was with a pastor who had gotten drunk and they were at a drive through in their town. He said they wanted to get a cheeseburger each and the pastor opened up the door and bent over. My uncle said he thought the pastor was puking, but he had grabbed the little tube that makes a ding whenever you go over it. He promptly shut the door and dropped it.
When he pulled around, it ripped the tube off the pressure sensor and it made the bell start going ding-ding-ding-ding-ding continuously. He sped off and the cops new the sound of their car, so they chased him down. The cops asked why he was disturbing the peace with his car and the pastor said, "God told him to." Being a religious town in Kansas, they said okay. He drove off, parked the car at the shop, and ran home. Later in the night there was a knock on the door from the police. The cops told his dad everything. My uncle said he didn't have an ass after that. His father used the paddle that had holes drilled in it to create welts.
My dad got burnt on most of his body when he was younger, how? He was standing on a fuel tanker truck, doing some shit I can't remember for work, and the tanker exploded in his face while he was standing on it.
And he also smokes weed often.
My mum was born in the phillipines and has a few crazy stories. Some dudes emptied a truck full of bodies in the middle of there town so they all had to get weapons training from the army.
My dad and one of his work guys were in Germany for a project, and one afternoon they stepped into a bar to grab a cold drink. They sat down, and everybody was staring at them kinda weirdly. The bar lady walked up, and all shocked and appalled, started saying "this is a FRAU cafe!" It took a long time for them to realize that they were being raged at by German lesbians who were pissed that there were guys in their bar.
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