While scrolling through old newspapers for family history, I always felt as though I transported back through time. Reading about the lives of my family and their neighbors and friends have given me a sneak peek into their daily lives. It was enjoyable, a simple pleasure, and I felt a connection to my ancestors that in many ways helped me better understand their lives. Continue reading “Extra! Extra! The Latest on Joseph LaDuke”
“Grandpas bring a little wisdom, happiness, warmth, and love to every life they touch”
Today I wanted to honor my father and grandfathers through a collection of photographs. These men came from different cities and even different countries. They came from small towns, farms and ranches, each unique in their own way. Meet the men in my life! Continue reading “In Honor of Father’s Day”
Surprised, Harold just stared at his wife.
As the mother cuddled her newborn, her heart swelled with love for this precious new life. She breathed in his sweet baby scent and held him closer. “Little Billy,” she cooed. The name just did not sit well with the new mom. “You just do not look like a Billy.” As she held the baby close, her husband walked into her hospital room. Continue reading “And Baby Makes Five Part II”
One family member who found herself in a sticky situation was Amelia Mary Earhart. As one of the leading pioneers for women aviators, she disappeared on a global flight on July 2, 1937. Although many searched for her, she was never found.
Amelia Mary Earhart was born on July 24, 1897 in Atchison, Kansas to Samuel “Edwin” Staton Earhart and Amelia “Amy” Otis Earhart. Amelia and her younger sister, Grace, were tomboys who liked to play and explore the neighborhood. They would catch bugs, climb trees, and they enjoyed racing on sleds in the winter. Continue reading “Amelia Mary Earhart: Flying Solo”
The distant ringing of the phone brought her out of her slumber. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and slowly sat up in her bed. Yawning, she looked at the bedside clock. It was almost time to get up anyway. She reached over, picked up the alarm clock and switched it to off. It was probably someone calling for the donut shop again. The two phone numbers were so annoyingly similar, and she received calls from the shop more times than she could count. She made her way to the kitchen to start her coffee. Just as the coffee began to perk, the phone rang again. She grabbed her notepad and pen. She said hello, and the guy on the other end asked, “Is this the donut shop?” Continue reading “Number, Please”
I have a strange fascination for cemeteries and tombstones. I know. I know. It’s sounds morbid, but as a history buff and an amateur genealogist, it’s not as bizarre as it sounds. If you look closely, each stone tells a story. Recently, I’ve been checking out some funny, strange, and unusual headstones, and I wanted to take a peek at some of my ancestors’ grave sites to see what I could “dig up.” Continue reading “Family Tombstones”
As a child, I was blessed to have my maternal grandparents live on the same little island in California. Their sweet presence made a positive impact on my life, and I enjoyed spending time with them, especially when I could spend the night. Continue reading “Cowgirls and Freckles”
At the age of four, my family moved to Alameda, California. This little island tucked away in the San Francisco Bay showcased many Victorian homes. These beauties included everything from quaint cottages to astounding mansions and varying sizes in between. While living on the island, children that lived in these houses, often told wild tales about secret rooms or spoke of hidden treasure. My brothers and I would often search for hidden rooms and fortune too. When I was five or six, I did find a prize, an antique teapot from Holland. Continue reading “My Island Home”
I slipped downstairs with a small shovel and started digging under the stairwell.
When I was a child, my childhood home was a three-story Victorian beauty nestled on an island in the San Francisco Bay. It was the perfect place for a child with an active imagination. The first level of the home housed two garages, a bar, a laundry room, a pottery room, and an extra room that we used as a playroom. Continue reading “Buried Treasure”
When I was thirteen, I had my first real crush, and his name was, well to save us both some embarrassment, I will call him Ben…Ben Williams. When I first met this young man, I was about eleven or twelve at the time, and I have to admit it was not love at first sight. Ben and I had been friends for some time; I was a Girl Scout, and he was a Boy Scout. We enjoyed several camping and backpacking expeditions during our scouting years. Believe it or not, our troops went backpacking together. Continue reading “First Kiss”