Old Family Pictures are Windows into our Past

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Old family photos are windows into our past; this one opens into the lives of children from a great generation who would grow up and answer a call to serve in World War II.
This is my Father (right) and his siblings in about 1924. The only one of these children still surviving is my Aunt, the baby, who is now 90 years old.

My Father and his older brother both fought in France during World War II.

My Uncle was awarded a Military Cross “MC” and was at the liberation of the Belsen concentration camp, near Hanover in northwest Germany, in 1945. It was the first major camp to be liberated by the Allies.

My Father was awarded a Croix de Guerre, a “Cross of War,” which was bestowed upon soldiers who distinguished themselves by acts of heroism involving combat with the enemy.

This photo was taken at their family home in Fife, in the south east of Scotland, just north of Edinburgh. The family home is now a hotel. ~ shared by @whistlingrabbit

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A Family Love Story told through an old photo

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When we love ferociously, we honor our family’s love stories.
In this one, a country girl falls in love with a city boy. /// This is My Mom and Dad, Thelma and Frank, circa 1952. They were newly engaged at this time and by the looks of it, at my Dad’s sister’s place outside of Youngstown, Ohio.

My Dad was the youngest of seven kids; the rest were girls. There’s my Aunt Betty sitting on the left, my Aunt Marge in the dress, and then my Aunt Esther.

I remember my Mother telling me how stressful it was for her to go meet my Dad’s family, as they lived “in the city,” while my Mother grew up on a small farm in Cardington, Ohio, just north of Columbus.

My parents met at an ice cream shop, introduced by friends, in Columbus, when they were in college – Dad at Ohio State and Mom at Otterbein.
In this photo, my Mother had just graduated from college and had, for the first time, cut her hair. Thus the pretty finger waves in this photo! Mom told me she felt very “cosmopolitan” when she cut her hair.
She was the first in her family to go to college and earn a degree. She was a Home Economics teacher for over 40 years until she retired. She passed away four years ago and my Dad and I found this photo last week when I was visiting him.

I love finding old family photos I’ve never seen before. I’m also digging my Dad’s white t-shirt and pegged jeans! ~ shared by @f8hasit

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Can you “Know” Someone You’ve Never Met?

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Is it possible to feel like you *know* someone you’ve never met?

This is my grandmother, Myrtle Rachel Whitworth, in 1938. I’ve always believed her birthday was February 27th, but actually it was January 27th!

She didn’t even find out her real birthday (January 27th) until later in her life.

She passed away three weeks before I was born, so I never got to meet her.

Yet I’ve always felt that I’ve known her. My Mom told me that, even as a baby, I always knew who my grandmother was in photographs. But the older I got, the more I seemed to forget. That’s why I cherish this photograph so much. ~shared by @matt1782
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Grateful for Family Photographs

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I love my family heritage. This is my great grandma behind the house that my family and I now live in.

She lived to be 99 here in this home, raising three kids, and gardening on her own until she was 96.

I want to be like her; living simply, but rich in love, peace, and the satisfaction that comes from hard work.

I’m so grateful for these photographs of her; they help me share her story with my children.

What kind of legacy do you want to leave behind? ~shared by @melissataylorphoto

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A Real American Story

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This is my grandfather, Sharkey George, (lower right) playing a game of cards with his friends in Detroit in 1957.
Sharkey was born in Tel Kaif, Iraq, and was one of the first Chaldean immigrants in the US when he moved with his family to Detroit in 1922.
In 1950, with a meager $400 loan and a battered old milk truck, he, his brother and his father started a small Detroit dairy business called Melody Farms, which would soon became one of the largest family-run ice cream companies in the Midwest by the 1990s.
I am so proud of my grandfather and his real American story; he just turned 94 and still lives in the Detroit area with his wife of 67 years, Rita. ~shared by @gsgeorge

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My Magic Box of Old Family Photos

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“My Grandmother kept a box of old photos in her attic & we used to go up there on rainy days & sit on the floor in the dusty light & go through them & she would tell about witches & broken hearts & how we came from royal blood & it was all there in the pictures, she said & then we’d lose the light & we’d all go downstairs for dinner & in our secrets hearts we sat taller knowing once we had ruled the world.” ~ @brianandreas, Ancient Kings /// Meet Mamie Hytes Callahan Terry. Circa 1940. My grandmother. She was from an upper class family, she loved reading, spoke French, German and loved to bake. She had black hair and pale blue eyes.

My grandmother was a direct descendant of Hugh Capet, the first crown king of France. Louis XVI was her cousin. We are also cousins to most of the other royal families throughout Europe.

She was an amazing woman, although I never has a chance to meet her, except through photos and history like this. She died at age 50 from a brain aneurysm when my Mom was only 17 years old. ~shared by @roberto_2012x

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Celebrating our Present by Discovering our Past

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When we discover old family photos, we discover pieces of ourselves.

This is my favorite photo of my father, the one from whom I received my need to create.

He’s an amazing artist; always teaching me to appreciate even the most simple and small things of beauty.
He’s also an example of humility, compassion, and perseverance to many. His four children are blessed to call him father, and for the example he has shown to us, often unknowingly, over the years.

Here he stands by his car, an Opel, which he drove in the U.S. during his Air Force days.

Love you, Daddy! ~shared by @jesszwo

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An Adventure in Swedish Street Photography

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My Uncle and Aunt, Yngve and Ingrid, were well known paparazzi in Stockholm, Sweden. This unassuming couple, living in a small studio apartment in the outskirts of the city, were totally dedicated to photographing famous people in the streets.

They were lovers of “la vie belle” in France, and spent every penny on film for their cameras and travels to the French Riviera.

I loved visiting them; it was an adventure. She always smelled so good…Chanel No.5. And she loved lilac, and was famous for her roulades de boeuf. ~shared by @amoserrander
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A New York City Childhood Classic

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This Thursday, we’re throwing it *way* back.

Back to New York City, to classic childhood in the 1940s. And to pure JOY.

The boy in this photo is my Poppy, Nicholas F. Nicastro, back in his heyday.

This photo was taken in the late 1940s when Poppy won the New York City soapbox derby championship!

After winning big in New York City, Poppy was sent to Ohio to compete at nationals. Although he didn’t place, his big spirit won my heart and the hearts of many others.

A “Soap Box Derby” is a soapbox car racing program for kids, which has been run in the United States since 1934. World Championship finals are held every summer at Derby Downs in Akron, Ohio. Cars competing are unpowered, relying completely on gravity to race.

My Poppy always treated everyone with kindness, and in return, was loved by so many. We lost him this past May but he still lives with us in spirit. ~shared by viv1010

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Why Should We Save Family Photos?

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It takes too many years to appreciate our parents. At first, they are giants and superheroes; powerful and omniscient. Too quickly, they become ATMs and a ride; miserly and confining. You begin to wonder how such unenlightened, intolerant people survived when they were your age.

Then you grow up. Maybe get in trouble. Maybe get married. Have kids. And you need them. Finally, you go to them as peers, only to discover that they have somehow grown small and old. Until they speak. And then, you feel knee-high for a moment. They are giants and superheroes. You want to sit down and ask them to repeat everything they tried to tell you for the last 20 years.

But this time you listen. And maybe grab a pen.

These are my parents. Mom and Dad spent the late 1960’s and early 1970’s traveling together all over Europe before landing in Connecticut to have us kids. I’m really fortunate that Dad considered himself somewhat of a photographer. He was an expert at the tripod and self-timer. ~shared by @shawnmcarson

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