Faded photos and letters.
Over the last few months, we've been slowly emptying my grandparent's house, readying it for sale. Grandma still lives, but the house has to go. Her apartment costs too much.
Last time my father visited, what did we see coming back? Pictures. Boxes and boxes of pictures. People and places lost to time. That's the fun part, though, seeing what is there.
A plastic baggie reveals my great-uncle Delmar's medals from WWII, topped by a Silver Star and four parachute jumps in Europe- first on D-Day. Another one? My great-grandfather's 10th Degree medal for York Rite Masons, something rare and precious. A photo of Dad sitting on the hood of his '51 Chevy in HS, one of my grandfather in his fishing gear, one of the old house on 10th Street, buried in five feet of snow back in 1960.
There's a shot of Delmar's grave in Arlington, Grandpa's friend Ed's Apron from when he was International Grandmaster of Scottish Rite Masons, and a newspaper clipping showing Grandma overwhelmed by boxes when she bought for a department store.
Photos are our history, folks. Look, and see what is there.
Last time my father visited, what did we see coming back? Pictures. Boxes and boxes of pictures. People and places lost to time. That's the fun part, though, seeing what is there.
A plastic baggie reveals my great-uncle Delmar's medals from WWII, topped by a Silver Star and four parachute jumps in Europe- first on D-Day. Another one? My great-grandfather's 10th Degree medal for York Rite Masons, something rare and precious. A photo of Dad sitting on the hood of his '51 Chevy in HS, one of my grandfather in his fishing gear, one of the old house on 10th Street, buried in five feet of snow back in 1960.
There's a shot of Delmar's grave in Arlington, Grandpa's friend Ed's Apron from when he was International Grandmaster of Scottish Rite Masons, and a newspaper clipping showing Grandma overwhelmed by boxes when she bought for a department store.
Photos are our history, folks. Look, and see what is there.
posted by Tirithien at 1:58 AM
3 Comments:
I love old photos and ephemera like these. It's like meeting with loving ghosts.
The saddest thing is when pictures like that aren't labeled. Who are they? When were they? Why were they having their pictures taken?
But then, I'm pretty guilty on not labeling photos myself. I've got boxes full of them that my grandchildren will find in an attic some day and think, "Well, I think that's Grandma when she was young, but who are those people with her?"
Our box has literally dozens of those. I can tell that they look like family, but who?
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