Gather around. See scenes from a golden era, living and breathing as unforgettable memories. This is an old photo capturing a special moment long ago, an elegant wedding picture of my husband’s grandparents, Ernst and Marie, taken around 1913 in New York City. I love the intimacy of their pose, revealing the love they had […]
Sometimes the simplest memories are the best ones. My Mum in polka dots. Polka dots and red lipstick. Mum wore them a lot. And I can smell her perfume: “Intimate” by Revlon. She used a lot of it! ~shared by @oshootphoto View on Instagram →
“Your own photography is never enough. Every photographer who has lasted has depended on other people’s pictures too – photographs that may be public or private, serious or funny – but that carry with them a reminder of community.” -Robert Adams
Our granddaughter Emma, who is four years-old, is learning to swim.
She’s quite the little swimmer.
We’ve told her she must have some DNA from her great-grandad, who was captain of the swim team at Yale in 1926.
I scanned one of his team photos (he’s here in the center) so Emma’s coach can use it as a little encouragement and inspiration. ~shared by @ned_bunnell
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What treasures wait patiently in boxes?
This is one of the best pictures I’ve ever seen. My mom and I found this while digging through a box of old photos which I’d never seen before.
These are my grandparents, Don and Joan Gulick, on their wedding day, August 21st in the early 1950’s.
My grandparents are two of the most important people in the world to me; they helped raise my sister and me.
My grandmother died 15 years ago, so anything I can find of hers is something I treasure, but this picture is something special.
It’s so beautifully candid and captures how in love and happy they were. They were married almost 50 years when she died and still just as in love as the day this was taken. ~shared by @jurassikate
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My grandmother, whom I always called Nana, is the most incredible woman I will ever know.
Born on January 19th, 1922, she had a rough childhood. Her mother left the family, which was unheard of back then. So, Nana and her siblings were left to fend for themselves. She went to work as a maid for room and board. She was 9 years old.
Nana used to tell me stories and I learned to listen, not just “hear” what she said, but really LISTEN. I spent most of my childhood at her house; there was a special bond between us.
One of my favorite memories was from a summer overnight stay. One of those light transformers exploded, right down the street. Of course, everyone was scared. But Nana came in and said not to worry.
We went outside; everyone in the neighborhood was out. I was about 6 years old.
It was a hot summer night and Nana lived next to an Italian Deli. The owner started handing out lemon Italian ice to us kids. I brought mine back to Nana’s house and sat next to her on the front porch swing. It was pitch black.
At that very moment, she pointed and told me to look up. “At what?” I replied.
She said, “The Moon…do you see it? Look really close. You can see the Man on the Moon if you look hard.” And I swear, I saw it. It felt like the most amazing thing for a kid to witness.
Last year I got a tattoo on my inside forearm that says, “To The Moon And Back” because of Nana. ~shared by @_jenn_41671_
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Family photos don’t belong in a box.
This photo was found whilst clearing out our family home of 22 years. It was taken by my Dad from the first floor of our family home in London.
It was 1980, and I imagine it was one of the few hot days we get in the summer.
My Mum is lounging in a tartan jumpsuit and white loafers, the height of fashion at the time!
My sister Sophie, the blondest blonde of all time, is sitting with the older girl from next door.
An ice cream cone is on the ground, whilst pussy the cat (that was the cat’s real name) eyes it longingly.
My Dad wasn’t a photographer, but he always seemed to capture beautiful moments without realising.
Cameras and video cameras were always present whilst we were growing up.
Dad passed away 6 years ago, so these photos became even more important to me. It makes me feel happy, as I can imagine my Dad looking out of that window, and feeling so proud of his wife and first daughter, who don’t seem to have a care in the world. ~ shared by @chloeslloyd
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“Photography, alone of the arts, seems perfected to serve the desire humans have for a moment – this very moment – to stay.” Sam Abell
I discovered my father’s old Kodachrome slides and came across this gem.
This is my Grandpa and Grandma having fun in the sun on the Jersey Shore.
My Grandpa was always a suit-and-tie kinda guy, straight laced, never went anywhere without a hat!
It just cracks me up that he spent the day at the beach in his street clothes – slacks, socks and shoes!
Plus, he’s reading the June 1960 issue of “Holiday” magazine. Holiday was travel magazine published from 1946 to 1977. It was famous for employing the world’s best writers, such as Graham Greene, and photographers, and giving them the freedom (and money) to interpret a subject in whatever way they wished. ~ shared by @lizajp11
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My grandfather is visiting me and brought a huge box of old photos, a real treasure hunt!
This one is my Grandmother, Gloria Almquist (on right) and her Jewish friend, Mimi in the 1930s.
They were forbidden to play together due to prejudice. Between 1900 and 1924, approximately 1.75 million Jews immigrated to America’s shores, the bulk from Eastern Europe. Antisemitism increased dramatically in the 1930s with demands being made to exclude American Jews from American social, political and economic life.
But my Grandmother and her friend Mimi maintained a secret friendship, and my Grandmother kept this photo through all these years. ~ shared by @jennylee_1011
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My grandfather, Charles Edward (Ed) Niesen, never lost his child-like wonder.
I don’t know the story behind this photo, but I do recognize the expression on his face. It’s practically the same expression he is wearing in a photo that sits on my dresser – one of him and my grandmother taken during Christmas 2003.
I’m not surprised this picture captures Granddad on a bike as he was usually in motion. Ed spent his childhood playing ball with kids from the neighborhood, doing gymnastics at the YMCA, and cheering on the St. Louis Browns.
In adulthood he played on the church softball team and, with Grandma, raised two boys who would also become avid St. Louis baseball fans.
Granddad was a gentle spirit – a man with a boyish grin who loved his family fiercely. He never missed my own sports games (or concerts, or plays, or celebrations for that matter). I learned about loyalty and kindness and generosity from him and my grandmother, and from the man they raised.
Even at the end of his life, when dementia stole his memory and he couldn’t always recall our names, Granddad would wiggle his ears and race me down the hall of the assisted living center with that boyish grin on his face. ~shared by @sniesenthompson
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Meet my grandparents, Ethel and Jack.
They grew up in Brooklyn and my Grandpa hung out every day at the candy store on Linden Blvd. Grandma would go a hundred times a day to buy a penny chewing gum so she could see Grandpa.
She was 15; he was 21.
One of Grandpa’s friends liked her and asked her out on a date, but she really didn’t want to go out with him. So, she told him he could go with her best friend…but only if he brought HIS best friend – my Grandpa – to accompany her!
My Grandma was not a shy girl.
And that was the beginning of their relationship!
Grandpa absolutely adored my Grandma from the start, but worried that he was too old for her. So he fibbed and said he was 20, instead of 21.
They were married 4 years after that fateful first date.
It wasn’t until decades later, when my Grandparents were getting passports for the first time, that my Grandma learned the truth about his age; everyone had a great laugh!
My Grandpa passed away in 2001, and loved my Grandma with all of his heart, until the last beat it took. ~shared by @karenlisa
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