Joseph Merrel Mase; Born 1863, Ithaca, NY; Died: 9/12/1959 (96 years). Only Joseph and one of his brothers chose the Mays spelling. And of Joseph and Nancy’s children, only Vernon and one of his brothers chose to revert to Mase. John Mays (standing) with sister Reva (top, left) and cousins.
There are no shortage of good photos of John and Evelyn from their wild and fast younger days. But the years took a toll and there just didn’t seem to be many good pictures of them from their later years. I really like this one.
This photo was in an album my mother put together so I can assume this is a member of the family. Based on stamp on reverse, the photo was processed (and shot?) in Brookfield, Missouri, where my father grew up. He was born January 21, 1926 (in Elmira, New York) so he appears to be two or three years old in this photo. Let’s go with three.
The Great Depression started in 1929 (and lasted until 1939) and I recall my mother mentioning that my father’s family had a very tough time during those years. Like lots of folks. I don’t recall my father ever talking about growing up during the Depression. Nor my mom, except to say her family had it a bit easier because they lived on a farm and could grow most of their own food.
Their generation lived through The Great Depression and World War II. Chapters in a history book for me but day-to-day life for them. Seeing photos from that time makes it a bit more real.
Another never-before-seen photo from the recently discovered Mystery Photo Album. My mother had written “first steps” on the border of the photo. I was born in March and it looks like I’m about one year old here so, spring of 1949? Tried to remove the crease but it looked worse so I left it. This is as close to time travel as I’ll get.
I’ve read that memories are not retrieved or recalled but recreated. Sort of recompiled, changing slightly each time. Is a photo a memory? Only if I took the photo, was there to experience the moment captured. Is a photo history? Arguably more accurate than the one my brain creates.
I’m not headed anywhere with this, just rambling. These two photos are of my mother and father (and an unidentified friend). Probably taken sometime in 1946. My father was discharged from the Navy on March 9, 1946. He married my mother on March 23, 1946. So, as mom often claimed, they knew each other for two weeks before taking the plunge. This suggests the photos below were taken in March of 1946.
I can never know the people in these photos. What that time was like for them. This is as close as I will ever come. One instant in time (two in this case). Where were they? How long had they known each other. When/where/how did they meet? Who took the photos and why? Then again, maybe it’s better not to know. We can create our own histories, which we do in any event.
For me There is powerful magic in old photos. Even if I don’t know the people.
Emma Mays, John Mays, Aunt Golda Carter, Blane Mays (#18)
James W (Dub) Perry and his new bride, Viola, are the couple on the right.
The photos above feature my maternal grandparents, Claude and Inus Perry (along with assorted family members and friends). I was very young with my grandfather died so I didn’t really know him. I was very close to my grandmother. She lived with us or near us during my early years. Here’s a few branches of our family tree, submitted for posterity.