Looking back at folks I’ve met along the way, several stand out tall amongst the rest. Two of these were special people that I didn’t entirely know the history of. It was only after they passed away and I began writing, did I unearth their backgrounds through old wedding announcements and obituaries.
Alan and Muriel Girardet I first met as customers on my newspaper route in Anchorage. They were nice to me and on Christmas always left a sizable tip or present. When I say sizable I’m talking at least $5. The couple lived in a small but well-kept trailer in an older section of Alaskan Village Trailer Park.
Muriel and Alan were especially kind to neighborhood children, and this was especially true on Halloween. They were known to hand out the largest amount of candy of anyone in the park. There was a reason for them being so gracious to us kids that I didn’t know back then.
Alan went by the nickname of Jerry and I still don’t know the reason for that and probably never will at this point. His middle name was Newton. Mr. Girardet and his wife owned Lock, Stock, and Barrel gun shop, with a few of us kids who owned rifles purchasing .22 ammo from him. We’d been taught gun safety at Clark Junior High so it was nothing out of the ordinary.
The school had a small “take down” shooting range for the Clark Shooting Club. It would be set up in the gym and then taken down when not in use. For competition purposes, we’d go to an indoor target range on a local military base.
At home, sitting behind the gun shop was a hill that we could safely shoot into. A wrecked car sitting in front of it was riddled with holes. It was quite common to find several locals back there on a Saturday morning firing away.
My father eventually purchased the building that housed Lock, Stock, and Barrel Gun Shop, and I came to know Jerry even better. The man had a German Shepherd dog named “Heidi” that he brought to work every day. At lunch, Jerry would toss a ball and Heidi would chase it. You could tell by the excitement in her retrieving it that it was the highlight of the day.
Jerry became friends with my father-in-law and I learned from Herman that Jerry had also been in the United States Navy. Both men saw duty in WWII so they had something in common to talk about. Jerry served on the aircraft carrier USS Maine before retiring in 1959. His wife, Muriel, was also in the Navy. Being a member of the WAVES (women accepted for voluntary emergency service), Muriel remained on active duty until the end of the war.
Sadly, Jerry’s brother, David Lloyd Girardet, was killed in the crash of a Grumman Hellcat airplane during WWII. Not once did Jerry ever mention this to me nor tell my wife’s father, Herman, about the tragedy. Ensign David Lloyd Girardet attended the Naval Academy with a presidential appointment courtesy of Franklin D. Roosevelt.
Hanging on a wall in the gun shop was a Brown Bess musket and powder horn dating back to the 1700s. I often visited Jerry just to check out this weapon. He eventually brought it down for me to inspect. I knew it was one of his prized possessions just by the way he handed it to me. The gun was long and heavy.
Because of my fascination for this Brown Bess, thirty years later I purchased one in Scottsdale, Arizona. I always wondered what happened to Jerry’s musket believing that it’d been sold after he passed away.
A couple of important things were learned about Jerry and Muriel along with that Brown Bess in writing this story—one of them quite sad. I never knew during the time I first met them in 1967, that they’d lost their only son in a motorcycle accident just three years prior.
David Lloyd Girardet was struck by a drunk driver in 1964 and killed. I can’t imagine the heartbreak of losing a child, and I suppose this was a reason for them seemingly “adopting” some of us neighborhood kids. David was without question named after Jerry’s late brother.
The other thing I came to know is not so tragic. The beloved “Brown Bess” was donated by Jerry and Muriel to the Lake Ronkonkoma Historical Society Museum in New York. A picture of it on their website shows the musket and powder horn in a place of reverence. A brass tag identifies it as being donated by the Girardets.
Interestingly enough, Jerry was born and raised in Lake Ronkonkoma, with the family living on Hawkins Lane. That street name was eventually changed to Hawkins Avenue, now considered the city business center. The Girardet patriarch came to America from France, where he also served in the Navy. Jerry, Muriel, and David are buried in the Lake Ronkonkoma Cemetery.
Some might ask what does this story have to do with Lake Havasu City? The answer is simple. There are thousands of seniors living here from all parts of the country. Undoubtedly, a good many have backgrounds much like the Giradets. In most cases, we’ll never know until they’re gone!
I like to write junk... 