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Note: Peter Adam worked in the brewery until prohibition came in. Then, even though he only finished the second grade in elementary school, he was able to become a printer for the Printer's Electrotype Company on 9th & Sycamore in Cincinnati.
Other family members, who knew him longer than I, say that he loved to dress up and go to town. I have a diamond stick pin or tie tack that he used to wear, so know this to be true. They also say that he was very devoted to his wife, my grandmother, and was devastated when she died.
Remembrances of Dolores
My Grandfather, Peter Christopher, was the only grandparent I ever knew, all of the others had
passed on long before I was born. I cherished him. He would come to spend the winter months
with our family in Florida; and, this was how I truly came to know him.
He used to try to help me with my homework. He had only finished the 2nd grade in school;
but, he still tried to help me. He taught me how to save money. He gave me an allowance of
fifty cents every Saturday and suggested that I save it for something I wanted. He loved to smoke
cigars and said that he had been smoking them ever since he was still in school. I could never
figure out where he got the stoggies; and, later found out while researching the family, that his
father, Adam Christophel, was a cigar maker by trade. Then it made perfect sense how he got
hold of the cigars.
Like my Mom, he also treated me as an equal. We used to even have differences of opinion;
and, would argue at length; but, never resolve anything. One time we argued about him picking
up my pet rabit by the ears, which he thought would not hurt it, and I was perfectly sure that it
would.
He used to love to eat ham and pickled pigs feet.....and have one glass of beer with it. He let
me taste his beer to satisfy my curiosity and I thought it was the worst thing I had ever tasted in
my short life.
He was the first person I loved who died. I remember when we got the call from Ohio that he
had suffered a stroke (I was in bed already). I just lay there and prayed for a long time until
I fell asleep that the Lord would let him live longer. The Lord must have needed him more. I was
heart broken. I remember being at his funeral; and, there was a man singing some sad sounding
song. I was only 8 years old, but cried my eyes out like I had lived to be a hundred and lost my
best friend....and I had.
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