Our grandparents lived in the small town of Morehouse, Missouri, in the same house our father grew up in.

It wouldn’t have been summer without a week or two at Granny and Poppy’s house, with the back yard which seemed huge to us, and the windows of that house without air conditioning thrown up at night so you could hear the crickets, and those little tree frogs, chirping all night.

The Missouri-Pacific railroad line was right across the highway from the house, and a train came through twice a day, heading east in the morning and back again going west in the late afternoon.

We left plenty of pennies on the tracks for the train to flatten as it passed, and if we happened to be out in the yard and waved, the engineer would always blow the horn a time or two for us.
My father took this photo in 1966 and I scanned the original. I am the oldest son, and the family “archivist” as such, having possession of 3 or 4 generations (or more) of photos from both sides of the family. It’s a blessing. ~shared by @reb4life