By Jerry Robinson

Publisher Emeritus 1920-2014

The  Super Bowl is now history for this year and the hoopla and poobah is in the books but the event had a little extra meaning for this writer than who won or lost. I have some deeper roots than most observers. Though the Seahawks did not make it to the big game this year, hope springs eternal.

In 1904 my mom lived a hop and a putt from the stadium in New Jersey where the Seahawks played in Super Bowl XLVIII .  She could have walked to the game except she had to work making light bulbs at Thomas Edison’s factory in West Orange, NJ. 

A lot of fans may have been confused and assumed the game was in NewYork because of all the fanfare and neon lights. The truth is the stadium is built on a former wetlands where mom’s dad probably hunted sea birds for Saturday night dinner.  

Mom was just a teenager when she worked for Edison.  She used to talk with him (he was hard of hearing ) so I assume she had to shout somewhat. This would have been helpful since yelling is part of the fan strategy to help the Seahawks. 

I know her dad was hard of hearing too. He was a pattern maker in New Jersey. He wouldn’t listen when his daughter told him to stick to his craft.  In his spare time he got interested in the game of golf which was new at that time compared to the game invented in Scotland. There were various types of balls used to play the game. Grandpa Scott came up with the idea of winding rubber bands around a semi-solid core until nearly the size of a regulation golf ball where it could be wrapped with a thin layer of rubber. Before he could patent his idea the machine was made and produced, leaving gramps to wonder if he’d been sliced out of a fortune. It was like betting on the winning horse without placing the bet.

Mom was especially proud of their own big horse. His name was Ben. He didn’t play golf but he was pretty big. She claimed he stood 17 hands high and held her hands over her head so I was impressed. I think Ben pulled their wagon into town when the street car wasn’t running. Maybe she rode him to work in West Orange.

Mom said her dad never got rich making patterns. She says, because he had a helper in the pattern loft who took the golf ball winding machine drawing someplace and got it patented.

Grampa went broke after that. I never met him but I wished I had. With that early start in golf I coulda been a contender.