My stories about Grandma D. [Virginia] tend to be from the perspective of a teenage boy (strangely enough), but I did get a lot of insight on her prayer life (while I squirmed at the dinner table), an appreciation of her knowledge of the Bible, and a kind of awe about her “toughness.” When she was about eighty years old [ca. 1979], she nearly got her purse—a big suitcase of a thing—snatched from her while walking home to the house [at 28 Pleasant Street] in Quincy [MA]; but she refused to give it up. She didn’t let go and eventually sat on it, depriving the would-be snatcher of a supposedly easy take. She called for me when she finally arrived home, shaken, but whole. Not sure there is a reformed—and/or humiliated—purse-snatcher out there, but Grandma knew how to handle herself. And she didn’t take any guff from her grandsons or their impudent friends.Colin Duncan (Bob’s son), November 7, 2012
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- Do you recall other details of this story such as: Where was she walking from? Why was she walking? What was the exact year?
- Can you share your own story of Grandma’s “toughness”?