Amos Jacob Stahl

 Amos Jacob Stahl
My Aunt Helen Beck Stahl’s husband was named Amos Jacob Stahl. He was a hairy, roly-poly short statured man. The people who knew him called him by his middle name Jake. He was a very stern man and when he got upset, his voice would raise several octaves to bellow into an almost soprano squeak. It seems incongruous that I would say bellow and squeak together to describe his voice, but he did it. He could stand on the side porch of their home and yell for the kids to come home.
Helen and Jake’s house was a medium-sized, stone-cased home built on the side of a hill that overlooked the town of Indian Head, Pennsylvania. Their kids would spread out playing with their friends. When it was time for the kids to come home, Jake would step out onto the porch and yell for them. No matter where the kids were, his voice was heard all over town and the kids would come running from where ever they were. The decibel level must have been surprisingly tremendous.
Jake made his living as a stone mason. His work was seasonal and it was hard to raise a large family with an interrupted way to make a salary. His work was limited to the amount of time that the weather conditions allowed. Rain, snow, ice; all limited his ability to earn money.
Eventually he made the decision to move his family south. He made the right decision. The town he decided to settle was Orlando, Florida. This was before the Disney Corporation decided to establish his kingdom of Disneyworld. His skills were needed as Orlando bloomed and blossomed.
His skills were exceptional; bricks, cinder blocks, and stones all were the foundation for his art. He could cut, dress, and face the stones he needed to display his skills.
One day when he and his crew were laying block for a basement, Jake noticed that some mortar had fallen out on the opposite side of the room. He lifted some mortar on the tip of his trowel and flicked it. The mortar hit the right spot and filled the gap.
He was a resourceful man. When we were younger and were visiting them at their home in Indian Head and eating. It was near the end of the meal and most of the food was gone. One of us wanted some more mashed potatoes. Instead, Jake took a slice of bread, spread some gravy on it, and cut it into bite sized pieces. Thus “gravy bites” became a part of my family’s vocabulary. Aunt Helen’s gravy was good even on bread.
He was a man who enjoyed his food. He loved to barbecue. His steaks were cut to order, not buying over the counter. He did the grilling himself. I was stationed at the Orlando Naval Training Center and would visit some weekends. He’d grill a huge platter of steaks for at least one meal. He also loved his R. C. Cola.
Jake’s car of choice was Oldsmobile. Every car that he ever owned was an Olds. He liked them because they had room for his belly under the wheel. His belly was still large enough that the front of his pants had wear marks where the wheel rubbed the pants.
The only other vehicle that he drove was his GMC pickup work-truck and I think he drove a GMC only because Oldsmobile did not make trucks.