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14
Feb

Vintage Valentine – a Love Story told through an Old Family Photo

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One vintage Valentine love story isn’t enough. Here’s one more for you. Hug the ones you love!

Valentine’s Day is a special day for my family. It’s my Grandpa Bob’s Birthday.

My grandparents were also engaged on Valentine’s Day. This photo was taken in the 1960s of my Mother and Aunts with my Grandpa, on February 14th, and was printed in the Green Bay Press Gazette newspaper. My Mother is the oldest girl, at the end of the line, in the plaid dress.

Unfortunately, I was never able to meet him, which is why I cherish this photo so much. He would have been 90 years old today. Happy birthday, Grandpa! ~shared by @baileyrlarson

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14
Feb

A Legacy of Love, Discovered in an Old Family Photo

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Looking back, we found a legacy of love and a timeless story for Valentine’s Day.
My grandparents, Harry and Ernestine, were born in 1922 and grew up in the same neighborhood.

Harry, my grandpa, was one of seven kids, didn’t go to school much after 8th grade, and was raised by a single mom.

Ernestine, my grandma, was the daughter of an Englishman and was raised on a farm with chickens and cows.

Every summer since my grandpa was about 10 years old, he would go down to the city’s amusement park, Jefferson Beach, and do whatever he could for a few cents.

By the time my grandparents were about 18 years old, my grandpa was in charge of running some of the rides at Jefferson Beach, and had built up quite a reputation as the local heartthrob.

Naturally, when my grandpa met my grandma, she was completely disinterested. And as the story goes, he was crazy about her. After countless rejections, she finally decided to go on a date with him. By winter, he was ice skating three miles down Lake St. Clair every week to have dinner at her parent’s house.

Three children, two battles against cancer, and one Purple Heart later, they were married nearly 70 years until my grandma passed away in September 2012.
They loved each other unconditionally, but more than that, they challenged each other every single day. Even up to the end, my grandma loved to regularly remind my grandpa that she was the girl who couldn’t have cared less at Jefferson Beach all those years ago.

I’m lucky to live with my grandpa, who is now 91 years old. Even though things are getting rough with his Parkinson’s, we still go through old photos at least once a week while he recalls the story of each one. ~shared by @rustyrosebud

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13
Feb

A Long Line of Strong Women

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This is a photo of my lovely Nan, Pamela. It was taken in 1954.

She doesn’t like this photo of herself as it was taken when she wasn’t very well and was going through a very tough time in her life. She had just lost her baby boy from a heart condition he was born with.

Although this photo makes me think of the pain she was in at the time, I also love it because it shows what a strong, resilient and amazing woman she was — and still is.

She is still smiling and being a wonderful mother to her eldest boy (pictured at the front) and looks truly beautiful. She went on to have five more children, the youngest being my mother, who is another inspirational woman!

My Nan didn’t always have it easy, but she always carried on and did her very best. When I look at this photo, it reminds me that I come from a family of strong women, and I hope I carry on the tradition. ~shared by @ZOEASTY

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12
Feb

Memories from a Family Farm in Ireland

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This is my grandmother (right) Anne “Nancy” Prendergast with her sister and two of their farm dogs on their family farm in Accony, Ireland.

The family home still exists and I had the opportunity to visit it in 2010 with one of my father’s brothers.

The Prendergast’s were able to see their minuscule schoolhouse from their front door, though it would’ve been about a 10-minute walk. The schoolhouse has since been converted into a family home. The original sign still stands out front.

My grandmother was a beautiful woman, with an uncanny resemblance to my father and sister. I loved her very much, though she passed in 1998 when I was only 5 years old, of breast cancer.
I think about her every day and I would give anything to visit their home again in the future. This photo helps her memory live on. ~shared by @kimtuohy

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11
Feb

Before their Names were “Grandma” and “Grandpa”

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This gorgeous couple is my Grandma and Grandpa, before their names were “Grandma and Grandpa.” Here, they were just starting their life together. Three beautiful girls and a boy would be born later.
When they met, he dreamed of being a crooner and worshipped Sinatra, and she was a renowned dancer who went for four-mile swims in the Atlantic Ocean.

They were gentle, kind people, with a dash of feisty to keep things fun. She used to love to teach me old time dances. ~shared by @hellomarisaviola

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10
Feb

A Girl Named “Smile”

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This is my grandmother, my “Nain,” in North Wales around 1928.

Her name was Gwendoline but she hated it so went as Gwen, which appropriately means ‘smile’ in Welsh. My sister shares her name.

She loved knitting, cooking, dressmaking, and sharing smiles.

And she loved her husband more than anything. They’d walk 10 miles to see each other and meet at a wooden gate.

She was in the Land Army in World War II, where she farmed frozen cabbages and drank coffee with frothy butter with Italian POWs.

She died last Christmas at 89 years old, weirdly and romantically on the same day as her husband. She was young at heart, but had a weak old heart.

She was like a Mum to me and inspired my company, Welsh Egg Designs.

I’ll treasure these memories, her thimble, her war medal, and this photo. It’s my favorite of her as a little girl. ~shared by @welshegg

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09
Feb

Listen to Old Photos, They Tell Tales of Hope

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“Look at the people in very old photographs. They are gone forever, but they still can give us messages with their eyes, they still can touch our hearts with their looks and they still can give us courage.” – Mehmet Murat Ildan”

This is my favorite photo of my maternal grandparents, Lila and Arnold Connelly.

I just recently discovered this photo and it’s fun for me to think of them as they must have been back in the 1940s, since my perception of them is very, very different.

When I was very little, I used to call them “Grandma & Grandpa Pinecone” because when I visited them, I got to climb the pine trees behind their house.

Here, they were a young, gorgeous couple, just starting their life together. ~shared by @markbschlemmer

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08
Feb

We’re all Ghosts

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We’re all ghosts. We all carry, inside us, people who came before us. – Liam Callanan

This is my grandfather, Jim Sexton, as a young man.

My grandfather would grow up to be part of the amazing crew that built the massive “Big Walker Tunnel” in the Appalachian Mountains of Southwest Virginia. The tunnel made history in the early 1970s as the most expensive single project undertaken on a Virginia interstate system. Driving through it takes you inside the mountain, nearby an Appalachian Trail segment.

He was ambidextrous, loved playing the guitar and was a father of eight children.

Sadly, I was the last grandchild he got to meet as he passed away a few weeks after I was born.

My father filled my heart with memories of my grandfather.

And I’m ambidextrous just like him. 🙂 ~ shared by @tssex

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07
Feb

Finding Family History in an Old Scrapbook

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The more you know of your history, the more liberated you are. – Maya Angelou

My Grandfather played baseball all over the South. He played for the Negro Leagues, for the Army when he was enlisted, and for many Minor League teams. If there was a team, he was on it.

He has a big scrapbook of all his baseball achievements, including newspapers and photos. I’ve known about this book since I was a teenager and even took one of his recruitment letters from when he tried out for the Brooklyn Dodgers to show-and-tell as a kid.

Recently, I asked him for the book so I could digitize everything in it and he happily obliged. There were many photos I had never seen before, including this one. ~shared by @meintrinsically

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06
Feb

Home Means More than a Place

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“Home” means more than a place. Home houses our family stories.

My grandparent’s house is high on my list of places I love to be. As I was digging through some old photo albums under the bed, I found this.
This portrait of my grandmother dates back to 1941, when she was in her twenties.

She has never been a very sentimental person, so it is difficult to come across good pictures of her, which is why I was so excited when I found this one.
She stands at only 4’10. Have you ever heard the expression, “dynamite comes in small packages?” It’s definitely true when it comes to my MaMaw! You know it as soon as you meet her.

She always wears a broach and her diamond ring, but she also always has the phrase “you dirty buzzard” at the tip of her tongue, ready to toss out whenever someone does something she doesn’t like.

She taught me to be strong and independent, as well as beautiful.

She was named “most beautiful” in her graduating class at her small town Louisiana high school. You sure can tell from this picture. ~shared by @kuhlair

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