I frequently walk past the stately portrait-style photograph that hangs at the top of the landing of my staircase. I smile to myself as I recall the first words my grandchildren (who were both teens at the time I asked their Dad to hang it for me) uttered: “Who’s that?”

“It’s our grandpa John,” I replied.

“He looks scary,” they said in unison. We laughed and forever after the picture was dubbed “Scary Grandpa.”

My Dad’s cousin, Bonnie (Young) Girton, gave me the picture several years before and asked that I take care of it. All she knew was that it was a picture of Grandpa John. I assumed that it was John Young.

[sc:text-divider text-divider-title=”Story continues below gallery” ]

I recently was chatting on line with another cousin, Linda (Young) Wright. Linda and I weren’t very close when we were young. She, like Bonnie, was a cousin on my Dad’s side of the family; however, her family time seemed to be spent more with her Mom’s side of the family.

We’ve become closer over the years thanks to social media. We wasted an awful lot of time as young adults not getting to know each other better, but as we get older and our living relatives are fewer, I cherish the time we spend chatting.

One day I told Linda about “scary grandpa.”

She had searched through some of the branches of our family tree and asked me to send her a copy of the picture.

I had my grandson take a picture on his cell phone and send it to me by messenger. I then forwarded the message to Linda.

She said she had found reference to a grandpa John, who was actually our grandpa Young’s great grandpa. His last name was Stine and the only thing she found on a line next to his name was Germany. He was Grandpa George Young’s great-grandfather on his mother’s side of the family.

I let my imagination wander a bit when I speculated that he probably had changed his name from something like Stein or Steinberger when he came across the ocean. I wondered if he landed at Ellis Island as so many immigrants did when they traveled by ship to the states.

I also began trying to figure when the picture was taken. Let’s see, if he was my Grandpa George’s great-grandfather that made him my Dad’s great-great grandfather, my great-great-great grandfather, my sons’ great-great-great-great grandfather and my grandchildren’s great-great-great-great-great grandfather. Wow!

“That’s a lot of greats,” my granddaughter said.

Oh, how true, how true, I thought. Let’s see, Dad was born July 1, 1919, and his dad was born sometime in the late 1800s. His parents likely were born 20 or 30 years before that, so maybe around 1850. Grandpa George’s grandparents were most likely born about 1830. That could only mean that the picture of “scary grandpa” was made about the 1830s or 1840s, but he was probably born about 1810.

I have vowed to continue the quest until I find out more about this portrait of a very stern looking man. When I asked the grandkids why they find him scary, they said it was because the eyes seem to follow them whether they are going upstairs, coming down or just crossing the room below the staircase.

In the meantime, I suppose he will continue to be “scary grandpa” around the house, but I’ll be thinking more in terms of Grandpa Stine.