My great grandparents on the distaff side, Mary and Aseph, and their ten children, one of whom was adopted. (Nine weren’t enough?) The youngest, Mabel, was my mother’s mother. She was born in 1904. All the siblings are named on a note on the back of this picture, but not identified, so I not sure which one of the boys is William, who was killed in France during World War I. Great Great Mary, who was of French-Canadian background, lived 94 years, outliving her husband by 36 years.
Here’s Mabel again. My mom had this framed with:
Forrest, the man Mabel married in 1926. He was born in 1890, and at the turn of the last century good little boys were dressed up like girls. You may know that famous shot of Ernest Hemingway in a dress. I've been known to wear a black kilt (clan punk), so I can dig it. I am a particular fan of the walking stick the lad is sporting. He looks rather prosperous here; from what I’ve learned, on both sides of my mother’s family there were bankers and mayors, big men in Collinsville, IL, but my grandparents went bust on an Oklahoma farm in the late 1930s, and Forrest was later a Revenue agent in Tennessee, so they seem to have come down in the the world.
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