Sepia Saturday #358

STORMY WEATHER

Today's Sepia Saturday prompt (Thanks, Alan!) offers us a middle-aged couple, Phillip and Frederica Wylie, affectionately sharing a moment while listening to a weather broadcast on a radio in Miami Beach, FL. Now, as someone who grew up with a red transistor radio glued to her hip, who remembers when all the good songs were still being played on AM and who waited each week for Casey Kasem's long-distance dedications, I would have loved to do a Sepia Saturday post about radio.

Sadly, I have no pictures that do justice to that latent passion of mine. I don't even have a photo with a radio in it.

So ...

Let's talk about weather.

It stands to reason that if the Wylies are living in Miami Beach and they're glued to the weather broadcast, then there's probably a storm brewing. And we all know that if there's a storm brewing in Florida, it usually gets a name and a big spiral on the radar map to call its own.

June 22, 1972. I didn't live in Florida; I lived smack dab in the middle of Pennsylvania. But Hurricane Agnes didn't discriminate; she barreled up the Eastern Seaboard with a vengeance, leaving death and destruction in her wake. My little hometown, situated on the banks of the Susquehanna River, didn't stand a chance.

The photo above was taken by my father from the little bit of dry land where the end of my street met the four-lane highway that ran through town. There was a creek which ran just to the north of my housing development, and its overflowing waters extended the river's reach in this part of town. 

Ten inches of rain fell in a matter of days, and by the time it was over, entire communities had been destroyed. My parents had a radio on top of the refrigerator in the kitchen, and every day at noon my father would come home for lunch. And every day, while eating lunch, they listened to the news on WKOK out of Sunbury, PA. That June, I can remember the reports of the storm and the flooding -- Sunbury is another river town and it received extensive damage, as well. Harrisburg, the state capital, was hit hard, too; even the Governor's Mansion was under water:

Cleanup was a long and arduous process. The receding floodwaters left knee-high mud in its wake, (photos of which, surprisingly, I could not find on the internet) and the damages totaled $2.1 billion, an astronomical sum at a time. Today, that would equal over $12.2 billion. My parents were lucky. Living where they did, the most they suffered was a few inches of water in our basement and some time off work. Others weren't so fortunate.

And what did fashionable 7 year olds wear when venturing forth to view flood damage? Only the latest in print polyester pants and waterproof rain gear.

Just FYI, on June 24, 1972 the #1 song on Billboard's Top 100 was Sammy Davis Jr's "The Candy Man." My little red radio also played "Heart of Gold" (Neil Young), "A Horse with No Name" (America), "Doctor My Eyes" (Jackson Browne) and "Rocket Man" (Elton John). 

I'll leave you with this, another 1972 classic:

For more Sepia Saturday fun, click HERE!!

Sepia Saturday #346

Two days late and waaaay too many dollars short ...

Alan's December 3 prompt, along with Deb Gould's post in response to the prompt, had me immediately thinking of the childhood anticipation of Christmas. Just like summer vacation from school seemed to last a lifetime, the wait from Thanksgiving until Christmas seemed to go on interminably. Of course, back then the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade was a real, much lauded thing and the arrival of Santa Claus at the end of the parade heralded in the Christmas shopping season (unlike now, when it often preceeds the arrival of the Great Pumpkin). And one thing every anxious child pestered about was the setting up of the Christmas tree.

Now, as long as I can remember, my parents had an artificial Christmas tree, which meant that it could be set up and decorated anytime my father got tired of my constant whining and pleading and gave in. Believe me, I was an expert at Christmas Tree Whining, a genetic anomaly that I have since passed on to my younger daughter, who has turned it into an art form. Over the years, my mother had various themed trees, depending on whim and "fashion," from monochromatic bows-n-balls, to birds, to a mishmash of collectibles. In turn, my trees have been a combination of real and artificial, with no theme whatsoever. But no tree I have ever seen, or ever even imagined, has quite equaled my Grandma Shaffer's.

This is me, Christmas 1966.

And this, in the corner of the photo, is what she affectionately called "The Umbrella Tree."

The umbrella tree was exactly what it sounds like: the carcass of an old umbrella, fabric removed, set up in a tree shape and decorated with tinsel garland and Christmas balls. Easy to set up, easy to take down, and unique in every way. We know this quirky little tree dates back at least as far as the 1950s, because my sister remembers it as a child, too. We don't know if my grandmother ever had a "real" Christmas tree, but the one she had was certainly memorable! 

Today, it makes its home with my cousin -- I don't know if he ever sets it up, or if it's in a box somewhere in his attic and he just doesn't have the heart to throw it away. But I sincerely hope that at least once he will decide to bring it out and dust it off, and set it up for his grandchildren to wonder at. 

As Dean Martin sang, "Memories are made of this."

For other Sepia Saturday posts, click ==> HERE!

Sepia Saturday #190

I must begin this week's post with a heartfelt apology. It has been well over a year and a half since I have either participated in Sepia Saturday or visited the posts of other Sepians, and I have sorely missed it! While I could wax poetic about the greed of the modern schedule or the elusiveness of time, I will instead simply make my post as if the gap year didn't really exist.

Of course, I'm still posting these on Sunday. Some things just can't be helped.

This week's photo prompt shows four fashionably dressed young ladies having a picnic in the grass.  Sadly, I have no personal family photographs of picnics or outings to share. Growing up, my immediate family (and extended family, as well) didn't seem particularly inclined toward outdoor celebrations of any kind. "Too much work" and "too many bugs" were just two of the excuses I remember hearing. And from the definite lack of evidence to the contrary, it would seem The Fam came by that inclination honestly -- there are no photographs of such family activities back through three or four generations. 

That doesn't mean I come to the party empty-handed, however!

 

In working with my local historical society, one of the projects I have begun is identifying some of the dozens and dozens of unknown photographs in our collection, such as the above image.  While the names are lost, the image is nonetheless fabulous! I love the formality of the fashion and the table setting, even though the event is outdoors in a tent. Speaks volumes about the nature of the dining experience a century ago - there's even a vase of fresh-cut flowers on the table. Whatever the occasion, it's obvious that this gathering is incredibly elaborate, unlike the more spontaneous picnics on the grass.

Come see what other Sepians have posted by clicking ==> HERE!!

Sepia Saturday #97

THERE'S ONE IN EVERY CROWD

Happy Sepia Saturday! ... er ... Sunday! ... uh ... Saturunday!!

Alan's prompt this week was a wonderful photo of some Irish schoolchildren being adorably candid and child-like, with quite a few of them looking everywhere BUT at the camera.

It immediately brought to mind this photo:
This charming group of clowns is part of a May Day celebration in my hometown, dated 1956. Notice some of the clowns are smiling, some have their arms crossed in a tough guy stance, almost all of them are looking at the camera, and all the little clowns have their faces painted. Well, all except one, back row, second from right. Yes, one lone clown apparently defied conformity and decided she wasn't going to participate like all her classmates. Like I said, there's one in every crowd.

Because it's turning cold here, I'll veer off away from children and follow the path to a warmer theme ...

The celebration of May Day on or close to May 1 was a tradition in my home school district for many years. There was a theme each year, with events for elementary, junior high and high school students. There was even a May Day Queen, chosen from the junior class, and her court. This photo is from our high school's 1939 yearbook, and the queen was a classmate of my mother's. In later years, the girls had male escorts, decked out in tuxedos, selected by the teachers.

And what would a May Day celebration be without a May Pole? I have no idea what you had to do to be selected for this ritual. Note the bare feet, although I don't see any Beltane fires burning in the school gym. While the celebration of May Day is an ancient tradition in many parts of the world (May 1 was actually considered the first day of summer, which made the summer solstice, June 21, mid-summer) the practice died out in the 1960s here where I live.

Now I'm off to check out the rest of the Sepia Saturunday participants. Come join me by clicking HERE!

Oh, one more thing ... that defiant little clown, the one who didn't want her face painted? That's my sister! And yes, she still acts that way. Shhhh ... don't tell her I said that.

Sepia Saturday #95

(I guess I'm going to have to start calling these "Sepia Sundays" since I keep posting a day too late!)

A BANNER TOPIC

Alan's photo prompt for this week's Sepia Saturday was reminiscent of suffragettes and parades, and we were invited to select a theme. I chose the theme of "banners," and in so doing I offer the following:

The Chamberlin Building in Lewisburg, PA circa 1910. The banners and other patriotic decorations are to celebrate an I.O.O.F. convention. Two different stores occupied the commercial space in the "Iron Front Building" as pictured here, a general store on the left and a shoe store on the right. Built in 1855, the building, with a cast iron over brick facade, was also home to the Independent Order of Oddfellows, the Red Cross, county welfare, a hardware store and an electrical supply store. The building still stands today and is on the National Register.

In the next block, more buildings are decorated in a similar fashion, although the photo is undated. From the left: a grocery store, hardware store, pharmacy, and a dry goods store.

This is the Saturday News newspaper office, circa 1918, decorated to celebrate the end of WWI. The paper was owned by Benjamin Focht, who served as both a PA State legislator and as a US Representative. Given the relative size of his banner, it would seem politicians were ostentatious back then, too!

And finally ...
The Banner Store! Built in 1835, it housed, in its lifetime, the above dry goods store, a jewelry store and a drug store, among others. I remember it being a men's clothing store where my father often purchased clothing and accessories, long before the advent of mega-huge shopping malls and the internet.

For more variations on a Sepia Saturday theme, clicky ==>> HERE!!

**Photo of the Chamberlin Building is part of a private collection. Photo of Market Street buildings is in the Packwood House Museum collection. The Saturday News and the Banner Store photos are from the Union County Historical Society collection. Information about the buildings is from the book "Lewisburg" by Marion Lois Huffines and Richard A Sauers, part of the Images of America series by Arcadia Publishing. Buy the book here. It's fabulous, as are other books in the Images of America series.

Sepia Saturday #94

"Willing Hands to Save"

Grabbing onto the theme of 'horses' from Alan's photo prompt, I decided to share the story of William Cameron's Silsby Steamer.


William Cameron was born in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania in 1795, the oldest of eight children. The family moved to Lewisburg, PA in 1810. During his lifetime, William served in the War of 1812, was Justice of the Peace, had a dry goods business, and then started the Lewisburg Savings Institution, which eventually became the Lewisburg National Bank. The bank was run out of William's home for 34 years before acquiring its own building. While William was well-known locally in his own right, his brother, Simon, had a claim to national fame, as he had served as a Pennsylvania Senator, as Lincoln's Secretary of War from 1861-1862, and then as Ambassador to Russia from 1862-1865.

Needless to say, William was a very wealthy man. In February 1874, he gifted the town of Lewisburg with a much-needed piece of fire equipment -- the Silsby Steamer.


Purchased from the Silsby Manufacturing Company of Seneca Falls, NY, the horse-drawn Steamer was a coal-fired water pump able to build enough pressure to shoot water 175 feet over the spire of the Baptist Church, and was delivered along with 2,500 feet of hose and three hose carriages for the then-impressive sum of $10,000. A parade was formed the day of delivery which started at the firehouse and included the Lewisburg Silver Cornet Band (I wish I had a photo of that!), the newly appointed Chief Engineer Samuel D. Bates, the Steamer itself and all its accoutrements, and "Little Valiant," the old hand-cranked pump which tried its best to serve the community but was now a broken relic. The parade, with over 1,000 spectators and participants, ended up at Squire Cameron's house, where he made the following speech:

Gentlemen of the town council of the borough of Lewisburg - I am happy to present to you for the citizens of Lewisburg the steam fire engine, hose carriages and hose now before you. And let me say to you, this is not the first time I have thought of making some gift to the Boro of Lewisburg. I had intended making an entirely different one; but when I saw the steam fire engine exhibited here a few weeks ago, and found the people were so strongly in favor of council purchasing one like it, the idea struck my mind that here was an opportunity to make a gift which would give more real pleasure or lasting benefit than a steam fire engine and the necessary accompaniments.

From the large outpouring of the people on this occasion and the very many expressions of kindness, I believe the people are satisfied, and my heart is rejoiced to feel that this is the case.

If in the future I am the humble means, through this gift of saving a single tenement of a poor family in or about Lewisburg, I will feel extremely thankful. I now turn over the steam engine and the accompanying apparatus to the town council to keep as the property of the citizens of Lewisburg.


In return, the town renamed the fire company the William Cameron Engine Company. William died three years later, in September 1877.


Although not uncommon to see horses on the streets of Lewisburg well into the 1930s, the Silsby Steamer was finally retired from service in 1932, a 58-year veteran of the fire company. Pictured above is the next generation of fire equipment to serve the community. Notice the double doors on the front of the building have been replaced with a single, wider door to accommodate the larger engines, and the original wooden floor was replaced with poured concrete. This firehouse was eventually torn down in the 1960s along with the residence beside it, and a newer, larger firehouse was built at the engine company's present location. The old property is now a municipal parking lot. (On a personal side note, the church to the very right of the picture was where I was married in 1988.)

The current building, Company 2:



Both the Silsby Steamer and its predecessor, Little Valiant, are currently on display at the WCEC's Liddick-Stephens Museum.



NOTE: The title of today's post, "Willing Hands to Save," is the motto of the William Cameron Engine Company.

**All black-and-white photos in today's post are part of the collection of the Union County Historical Society. Color photos are courtesy of the William Cameron Engine Company. William Cameron's speech along with other historical tidbits can be found on the William Cameron Engine Company's website.


For more of this week's Sepia Saturday fun, clicky RIGHT HERE!

Sepia Saturday #86

UNDIES FOR EVERY OCCASION

This week's Sepia Saturday theme is ... well ... open to interpretation. I've decided to interpret it as "Attractions on the Water," and in light of that, I give you:


As stated in the caption, this is the Newville Knitting Mill, circa 1912. I recently purchased this photo from my local historical society for three reasons: first, as an effort to lend financial support; second, because it depicted a part of my little town of which I was ignorant (and trust me, my ignorance of local history far outweighs my knowledge, so anything I can do to tip the scale is a good thing!); and third, it really caught my attention because there's something inherently and romantically tragic about a building which no longer exists -- which means that my imagination was engaged and my curiosity wouldn't rest until I knew more.

The property had originally been the location of the McFarland Flour Mill, built in 1765, along the banks of the Big Spring. Over the years, the mill changed hands and changed production focus -- sometime in the 1800s it became a paper mill, and then was sold in 1898 to eventually become the knitting mill.

Gilbert Ernest Swope (pictured below) was one of the original owners and the treasurer of the Newville Knitting Company, which opened for business in March 1907. It had 35 knitting machines and 75 sewing machines, employed 80-100 girls and made ladies underwear and "half hose." Sadly, like most of the industry in small towns across the country, the company went out of business and the mill was dismantled in the 1950s.

What I find really interesting about Gilbert Swope is that he seems to be more than just the average businessman of the times. He started out as a pharmacist and had his own druggist business in town, then helped found the knitting mill. But his passion, like so many of us, was genealogy. He authored several books of local history, including A History of the Swope Family and Their Connections 1678 - 1896 and A History of the Big Spring Presbyterian Church 1737-1898.

I wonder if the historical society has any of those knickers in their collection?

Thanks to Tattered and Lost for reminding me about this great commercial. It says it all:



For more Sepia Saturday thematic interpretations, clicky ==>> HERE!

Sepia Saturday #84

You've Got A Friend ...

Today's post is on the enduring bond of friendship.

Pictured (l to r): Cameron Orner (hubby's grandfather), W* W* (Cameron's best friend), and Emory Orner (hub's great grandfather).

Hub thinks the photo was taken sometime around 1928. Cameron was born in 1903, so that would make him about 25 in the photo and Emory about 60. To me, they look younger than that, but I'm working on getting some confirmation from W*'s family, which is where this photo originated. Hub also thought the motor car was a White, but White ceased producing private cars in 1918. Finding out that piece of information may help to date the photo, too.

What I really love about this photo, and the reason I based my post today on it, is that it captures forever the start of a multi-generational friendship. Cameron and W* were friends, their children were friends (still are) and their grandchildren are friends. As a matter of fact, one of W*'s grandsons was just at our house for a visit a few nights ago. That such a tried-and-true friendship has spanned three generations and close to century is phenomenal in today's age of transient families. Sadly, it's highly unlikely that the friendship will continue into a fourth generation, as the grandchildren are scattered and the great grandchildren range in age from 22 to 2. But wherever any of us, young or old, may venture in the future, we can take comfort in knowing that somewhere we have a good friend.

For more Sepia Saturday #84, place your cursor HERE and click!

Sepia Saturday #82

For the past six days, I have had my SS #82 post planned and plotted out in my head. Spurred on by a successful genealogical endeavor last weekend, I was going to share the photos which sparked my motivation to attack the family tree with a renewed vengeance and elaborate, in vivid detail, how the brick wall which had surrounded the lineage of my great great grandmother, Emaline Bowersox Smith, had come crashing down in one fell swoop.

And then I saw Alan's SS #82 archival photo -- Union Station, Chicago, 1943.

My plans fell by the wayside. When I realized what day today was, coupled with the year of that photo, I knew what my Sepia Saturday post had to be about.

On this day, July 9, in the year 1943, my parents were celebrating their first wedding anniversary. And sadly, they were celebrating like many young couples were that year -- they were celebrating away from home. My father had enlisted in the army the previous December and, as a member of the 474th AAA AW Battalion (SP), he was now moving from army camp to army camp, learning how to be a soldier and preparing for war in Europe.
(l to r) Dick Barcomb, Johnny Shaffer (my dad), Charlie "Hoffie" Hoffman and Joe Swaim
The army wives left their families behind to follow them, renting apartments and finding jobs wherever the boys camped, only to uproot themselves a few months later and do it all over again.
Helen Shaffer (my mom) and Elizabeth Barcomb at the window
On June 23, 1943, the 474th had left New Bedford, MA and headed south to Tennessee. My father never had too much to say about the experience, but when my mother recalled the "camp years," she always complained about that particular move. It was her least favorite of all the places they camped. Tennessee in the summer was hot (still is) and sticky humid (still is). The train ride was long and crowded and poorly ventilated. There was no air conditioning and the girls lived on a shoestring budget. But the wives were young and had each other, which made it a bearable adventure.
(l to r) Helen Shaffer, Lucy Swaim, Janet Hoffman and Elizabeth Barcomb
I have no idea if my father got leave in order to celebrate the day, that first anniversary, with my mother. But on this day, what would have been their 69th wedding anniversary, I like to think they're honoring their union together in a better place, one that isn't subject to the foibles of unpredictable summer weather or underfunded public transportation systems.


Happy anniversary! I miss you both.

For more strolls through the past, clicky right there ==>> Sepia Saturday #82

Sepia Saturday #80

"There's a mill in our town ..."

That was the phrase that immediately danced through my mind as a college freshman upon my initial visit to the small rural community which I would eventually come to call home. The year was 1983. Thornton Wilder's "Our Town" had been the university drama offering that fall, and I was on my way to my future sister-in-law's house for a home-cooked Sunday dinner when we passed by the little town's oldest and most well-known landmark: a gristmill.

Laughlin's Mill circa 1900

William Laughlin built the gristmill on the banks of the Big Spring around 1763. At that time, Cumberland County, Pennsylvania was on the extreme edge of the colonial frontier and the settlers' relations with the natives were strained, at best. The early colonists hadn't been overly fond of the corn flour which the Native Americans ground, so they'd chosen to bring wheat, rye and other cereal grains with them when they came to the New World. Mr. Laughlin provided a much-needed service for an agrarian population, building his mill with a dam which had a six-and-a-half foot head. This provided power equivalent to fifteen horses to turn the waterwheel and operate the grindstone.

Laughlin's Mill sometime after 1916

It wasn't long before Laughlin had competition. By 1770, there were three gristmills on the Big Spring; by 1784, there were five. A century later, two of those competitors were refitted with rollers which milled flour faster and more efficiently. Nonetheless, Laughlin's Mill continued to be operated by the next three generations of family, until 1896.

Laughlin's Mill circa 1950

In 1896, the Laughlin family sold the mill to the town's water company, which removed the internal milling machinery and replaced it with a water-driven turbine. The power generated from the turbine was used to drive the hydraulic pumps which fed the town's water mains.

Laughlin's Mill today

In 1916 the original look of the mill was restored by private funding. More recently, the water wheel was restored with the help of high school faculty and students.

For more Sepia Saturday #80 fun, click ==> HERE!

Sepia Saturday #63

Today's post was going to be on the deceptiveness of age in photos and how I am such a very bad judge of it. (Please don't ever ask me to guess how old you are -- you will be disturbingly disappointed.) I was almost completed with the post, actually, when I happened to see another photo which not only made my "How old is this photo really?" post unnecessary, but also gave me a "Hey, would you look at that!" moment.

Make sense? Doesn't have to. I haven't had my morning coffee yet and I'm just rambling. On to the photos:


This (I believe) is my uncle, William Shaffer, born 1920. It's a wonder the poor boy doesn't slide off that chair, but then he's so strait-jacketed in that outfit I doubt he can move. In my original post, I questioned the true age and identity of the photo. There is another William Shaffer in the family tree, my great grandfather, born 1861. Simply armed with that information alone, and being somewhat ignorant of infant clothing styles of the various periods, I wondered which William this really was.

And then I ran across this photo:

If I'm not mistaken, these young ladies are my grandmother's two little sisters -- Mary, born 1907, and Ida, born 1911 -- which would make this photo circa 1912. What caught my eye about it was that chair ... and the I-Wanna-Be-A-Bearskin-Rug covering on it ... and the sheet hanging behind the children, with the stripes in exactly the same place.

Logic dictates that it's more conceivable the same background/setting would be used within eight years of each other as opposed to fifty years of each other, which means the first photo is more likely my uncle than my great grandfather.

That's part of the appeal of genealogical research for me ... it's a lot like solving a mystery.

To see what the rest of the Sepia Saturdayers have discovered, hop on over to the Sepia Saturday blog by clicking right ==> HERE!

Sepia Saturday #62

Happy Saturday, all! I have something exciting to share, but first:

My apologies. I have no bike photos! Will other wheels do? Here's my parents, and I think they're on their honeymoon:


No clue where they went, although Washington D.C. sticks in my mind as a possibility. Maybe they rode bikes while they were there. I love Dad's shoes ... very stylish! They almost match Mom's perfectly. I'm fairly positive the car was my grandfather's. Mom and Dad were married five months before Dad was inducted, and I don't think they owned a car.

UPDATE ON SEPIA SATURDAY #61: Nothing. I have never run into a more effective dead end in my life. The family member who owns the photograph reassured me that Emaline Bowersox Smith was indeed the name on the back of the photo and that it was written in my Grandmother's handwriting, along with the words, "Grandma Felmy's mother." At least I know I was on the right side of the family tree. There is one reference to an Emaline Bowersox in the 1860 census. She's 16 at the time, which would be about right, but nothing else can I find on her.

However, there is an upside to this rather frustrating search. As I was combing the postings from cemeteries in Snyder County, PA, I ran across this exciting little gem:

"Felmy, Harrie M., s/o Franklin & Mary M., May 27, 1885-Oct. 5, 1886; 1 y., 4 m., 9 d. II Kings 4:31."

It would appear that my grandmother had an older brother, a firstborn, who died in infancy. I never knew of him, and I have to wonder if my father did. Sad, but very, very interesting, huh?

For more yummy Sepia Saturday goodness, put your cursor ==>HERE<== and press the button.

Sepia Saturday #61: Trying to Unravel the Mystery

On this Sepia Saturday, I've decided to spend some time using my Ancestry.com membership in an attempt to find any information I can about this woman:


I believe her name is Emaline Bowersox Smith, and I think she would be my great great grandmother. I don't have the original photo in my possession; this is a scan I made about six years ago from another family member's collection. I can't remember if the name was on the photograph, or whether this is merely an assumption on my part. The original photo was extremely faded and yellowed with age, which makes it difficult to see her facial features clearly.

What I find fascinating about her is her clothing style. It seems unusual, at least in my very limited experience, to see a formal portrait this old taken with a young woman in short sleeves. Even more fascinating is her jewelry, especially the matching cuff bracelets. My mother and a few other family members thought she was of Native American descent, but I have no evidence to suggest that. Honestly, I'm not even certain I'm searching on the right side of the family tree!

Wish me luck!

To plumb the depths of history further, clicky ==> HERE for more Sepia Saturday posts.

Sepia Saturday #57

This week, my little town in Central Pennsylvania finally got some measurable snowfall. While I personally would have preferred a bit of the white fluffy stuff around Christmas, it nonetheless made for a pretty landscape and infinite traffic problems. Snow-covered roads are a hassle for modern society, as most people have to drive many miles just to accomplish their daily tasks. Which reminded me of an old photo ...



This is my grandfather, John Samuel Shaffer, with his dad's horse and buggy, circa 1915. I have to wonder if this was a more efficient, safer mode of transportation in the snow. Did the buggy slip and slide behind the horse? Did it have decent traction? Did they clear roads of snow back then?

For more photographic forays into the past, click ==>HERE!

Sepia Saturday #51

GOLD: Aurum - "Shining Dawn"

Last month, my hubby and his brothers hosted a party commemorating my in-laws' 50th wedding anniversary. We managed to organize the celebration in a little over two weeks, and right up until the very last minute, due to some unexpected health concerns, we were unsure if the party would really happen or not. But the guests of honor were both healthy enough to attend and a good time was had by all!

In addition, it's my privilege to scan all of my mother-in-law's photographs so that the children and grandchildren can have digital copies. So today, I give you ...

THE WEDDING

The happy couple, Norma Jeanette Schreiber Orner and Ray Alvin Orner, October 8, 1960. (It was also Ray's 22nd birthday.) They met while square dancing at a place called Ranchland.


The wedding party. First row (l to r): Mother of the bride, Mabel Engle Schreiber; Norma Schreiber Orner; Ray Orner; mother of the groom, Caroline Bistline Orner; and father of the groom, Cameron Emory Orner. Back row (l to r): unknown man, perhaps husband to the matron of honor; matron of honor, Martha (Marty) Schreiber ____; best man, name unknown.


Cutting the cake ...

... and yes, he did ...


For more great Sepia Saturday journeys through the past, clicky ==>HERE!

Sepia Saturday #41

50TH WEDDING ANNIVERSARY

My husband and I, along with his brothers and their wives, are in the midst of planning a party in celebration of his parent's 50th wedding anniversary, which is on October 8. In honor of such an outstanding milestone, I thought I'd share the following photo:


The only family member I recognize in the photo is my maternal grandmother, Susie Kleckner Royer, seated at the far right in the dark dress. Obviously the stalwart bride is behind her cake, with her well-turned-out groom to her right, but I have no idea who anyone is. From the dress styles and my grandmother's apparent age, I'd place this photo in the early 1940s, if for no other reason than there's a decided lack of young people present. In 1943, my parents were traveling around the country while my father was being trained in the art of war. So I'm assuming that any cousins, grandchildren, etc. are doing the same and were unable to attend this important event.

I think every house in this era had a print of Da Vinci's Last Supper behind the dining table. I love the old-style telephone, too. Most likely a party line.


For more Sepia Saturday fun, put your cursor ==> RIGHT HERE <== and clicky!

Sepia Saturday #40

SCHOOL DAYS

Here in the US, Labor Day (the last holiday of the summer) is over and school is in full swing. In honor of the new school year, today's Sepia Saturday post contains photos of family members when they were young and in school.


My mother, Helen Royer Shaffer, circa 1930 (?) on what I assume is a pony belonging to a roving photographer. From what I've read, these traveling photographers roamed neighborhoods well into the 1960s, taking photos of children. In later decades the photographers apparently provided cowboy costumes for the children to wear. Into the 1930s, the photographers made tintypes, which were faster to produce and made available for parents to purchase right on the spot. I'm not sure that's the case here -- my mother had many copies of this photo, all with their own stand-up cardboard frame. Is it possible to produce copies like that from a tintype? Did the photographers visit schools to take these photos as well?


I adore the expression on my father's face! Little Johnny looks like he's trying to be serious, but it's all he can do not to laugh. I saw this expression many times throughout my life, most often when Dad was caught being "naughty." I'm guessing that he was probably seven years old in this picture, and it's the only time I've ever seen a photo taken at a school desk. Makes me wonder if it wasn't something the teacher had done, rather than the school. Nonetheless, it's a darling photo and one I cherish.


Here's one of my grandmother, Sarah Felmy Shaffer, with her schoolmates. (She's on the far left, second row from the bottom, in the white pinafore.) She looks to be about nine years old in the photo, which would date it somewhere around 1906. I'm not sure if the little girl in the first row with the white pinafore is a relative or not. I know it's not her sister, Mary; if Sarah is nine in this photo then Mary would have only been three. Plus, my grandmother's name is the only one on the back of the photo, written in my great grandmother's hand, which leads me to believe Sarah is the only one in the picture. The photo was taken by U.N. Eisenhauer in Millmont, PA.

Finally, just because it's only fair ...


Me -- first grade, 1971. The photographer made me say "pickles." I whistled when I said it.


For more great Sepia Saturday posts, clicky clicky => HERE!

Sepia Saturday #39

THE FELMYS

Last week, my post centered around my great grandmother, Mary Minerva Smith Felmy, and her sister, Elizabeth Smith Benfer. This week, I'd like to focus on my great grandmother just a bit more. Although my information on her is pitifully scant, I do have a few splendid photos of her.


I have no idea exactly when this photo was taken, but based on the dress style and an estimate of her age, I'd say it was sometime in the mid to late 1880s.


This is the Felmy clan that Mary and her husband, Frank, produced. Based on the hairstyles and my grandmother's age, I'd say this was taken in the 1920s. Top row, left to right: Mary Felmy Fisher, Verna Felmy Miller, Sarah Felmy Shaffer (my grandmother). Bottom row, left to right: Franklin Felmy, Ida Felmy Herman, Mary Minerva Smith Felmy.


And finally, we return to the garden, just down the path from where Mary and Lizzie had their photo snapped. Great Grandma is wearing the same dress; perhaps that was her favorite "going to town" dress. Again, I wish I knew what year this was taken.

Another of my great grandmother's "interesting" recipes:

TEA LEAF WINE
2 quarts of leaves
1 gallon boiling water
Let stand for three days. Strain and add:
3 1/2 pounds of sugar
2 oranges
1 tablespoon yeast
white of one egg
Let stand three more days, then put in a jug

Personally, I think I'll stick with a nice pinot grigio.


For more Sepia Saturday posts, clicky => HERE