Atlanta Braves and Teacakes

What do teacakes and listening to Atlanta Braves on the radio have in common?  They are the memories of a teenage girls great-grandfather.  He was called Ducky and he lived in a downstairs apartment of our house.   He died 38 years ago today in a terrible fire at the Baptist Towers (retirement home).  He was 91 (maybe 92) years old and it was such a tragedy to live that long and be killed in a fire.  He had only been there a short time because we had moved and did not have the same kind of living quarters for him in the new house.  Ten people died in the fire that night.  They say that something good comes out of something bad and I guess that could be true in this case too since fire codes in Atlanta and throughout the country were changed for the kind of buildings he lived in because of what happened.  It is no consolation, but at least they didn't die in vain.

He and I used to listen to the Braves games on the radio.  We are talking about a time when TBS was not even around to show the Braves games.  There was a time I could have told you every Braves player and any info you wanted to know about them!  He listened religiously to the Braves and I was right there with him most of the time. He loved the Atlanta Braves.  I don't know if he ever actually went to a game or not.

My best memory of him though is the teacakes he used to make.  He ALWAYS had teacakes for us when we got home from school.  Nothing smelled better than teacakes baking and nothing tasted better than a fresh warm baked teacake.  I have never eaten teacakes as good as his were. My mother and I have tried through the years to make them, but could never duplicate them.  He didn't use measurements.  Everything just went in a bowl and then rolled out and cut. Sometimes he made them flavored.  My favorites were always the plain ones though.  I know why Mom and I can't make them as good as his were.  It's because they were made with his love.  I truly believe that he loved making those teacakes for us and we sure did love eating them.

R.I.P.  Ducky.  You live on in memory and you are still loved.