In this blurry photo my mom (23) and I (2) are checking out our future homeland that we got from Grandpa Smith. On the left is the trailer we would call home. To the right of the trailer and down the hill you can see my parent’s truck. To the right of my mom and I is the dirt lane that would become our driveway. Hidden in the forest across the cornfield is the house where Uncle Mark, Aunt Elsie and my cousin’s Danny, Sheila, and Shelly lived. To the left of the photo—and across the cornfield but not quite in the forest—is where Grandpa and Grandma Smith would build their new home (I don’t remember the exact year their house was built, but it was around this time). Continue reading “Traversing the Promised Land”
I didn’t like this suit—I’m guessing that not too many two-year-olds like suits—and I only wore it a couple of times. I think it was one of the many hand-me-downs I got from my cousin Danny. Continue reading “A 1979 Go-Kart Climbing Family Suit Post”
This week, I’m handing narration duties over to my two-year-old self. Enjoy!
“Oh, hey, I didn’t see you there. I was just playing in my toy box—I call it my chicken house. Since you’re already here, let’s hang out for a while.” Continue reading “Greetings from May 1979”
Let’s start off 1979 with this charming photo of me (1) with Grandma Gleason (42) and Grandpa Gleason (44) on their 25th wedding anniversary. Continue reading “January 1979 and Two Photos from April”
Midway through the glorious year of 1978 my dad got a job working at a local factory. It’s the job my dad would have for the next 19 years as I was growing up. Being the sole income earner for most of my childhood, he did a lot of financial planning. As I got older, I was kept in the loop on our finances, which helped me understand how we were able to afford gifts and vacations, but why it was also important to use the “buy one, get one free” coupon at the local pizza joint.
DISCLAIMER: Due to technical difficulties, this post was thrown together at the last-minute and did not receive the polishing it deserves. It contains 22 photos and some words by me.
If the family photos are to be believed (and why wouldn’t they be?), my 1st birthday was the biggest event to transpire between my rooftop adventure and Christmas of 1978. So, here’s some (probably a lot more than necessary) photos of my life from April 1978 to November 1978.
Happy Birthday to me! Here I am, turning one year old and enjoying what I assume was, at one point, a delicious birthday cake. Continue reading “A Brief History of April-November 1978”
My dad has had many good ideas through the years, however, I don’t know if taking his 11 month old son on top of a house was one of them. Especially one month after his son had a run in with a coffee table. Regardless, I can’t deny that this is a great picture. After all, how many people have a picture of themselves on a roof before their first birthday? Continue reading “I Can See Your House From Here”
In February of 1978 the snow was knee-deep and my dad was at work with our sole source of transportation. We had just moved into a house that my parents and I still refer to as “Mitchell’s” because, you guessed it, the Mitchell’s owned it. There’s a house across the road and a couple of houses that come into sight after harvest, but that’s about it—the nearest town of any size is about 30 minutes away. Continue reading “That Time I Learned a Hard Lesson about Coffee Tables”
Like most people, I was born into a family that included more than just my parents. Some of those family members where photographed while holding me when I was less than a year old. So, now, almost 40 years later, those lucky individuals get to have their pictures posted on this blog.
So, here I am, two weeks and six days old, napping on a blanket my Great-Grandma Smith made for me. I’m surrounded by a collection of toys that were gifted to me. I can’t recall who made the turtle (help me out here faithful family members!). But I do know that my parents had everyone sign the bottom of it when they came to see me. My mom’s Uncle Sam Lowe made sure the “O” in Lowe was right where the turtles missing butthole would be. I think Sam and I share a sense of humor. Continue reading “Let’s Meet (some of) the Family”
It all started here. I still can’t get my hair to cooperate and I still make that face—I’m making it now. I never noticed before how much I looked like a hardened criminal when I was born. Continue reading “Difficult Beginnings”