Doughboys

I became obsessed with WWI in the fall of 2011. A new bakery and coffee shop called Doughboy opened in the West Village. It was at the corner of Charles and Hudson streets. Not only was it a refreshing alternative to Starbucks, they made the best banana bread I’ve tasted since my grandmother died in 1982.

Doughboy became my Saturday afternoon destination spot. I’d meet friends there for coffee and a slice of their delicious banana bread. On the walls of Doughboy were the most amazing photographs of WWI soldiers. The warm sepia toned photos gave life to a generation of men that had long been forgotten. But, it was their uniforms that got me. Those boys had a look – and of course, I’m always on the prowl for a new look.

Then one day while researching WWI uniforms, I stumbled across a picture of a young man named Malcolm Gifford Jr. Suddenly my whole childhood came pouring back to me. Mr. Gifford was the ghost in Grandma’s attic. I needed to find out more about his story. So, off on I went like a modern day ghostbuster…