My Dad (left) and his brothers in Kentucky, circa 1954.

Here my father was visiting his family in rural Kentucky. At this time, he already had two children of his own. Eventually, he would have five sons. I was second oldest.

I like this picture because of the casualness and authenticity of the young men. It feels real. But the hidden story interests me much more.

Every family has a secret or two. It wasn’t until my father’s youngest brother (the boy in the photo) died mysteriously at age 28 that I discovered that my Dad’s younger “brother” was not really his brother but rather his nephew. My father’s older sister had a child before marriage and my grandparents took the boy in and raised him as their own. At the time, it would have been considered a scandal.
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None of my own brothers or cousins knew the real story. My grandmother always had differences with her only daughter, which were further exacerbated by the child whom my grandmother loved dearly. There was never a happy ending to this family story. My grandmother and aunt never reconciled.
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My father lived a long life, passing at 90 years of age in January of 2017. His parents and all his siblings preceded him in death.
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~shared by @gregreynoldsphotography