vintage
Vintage content about families throughout history; all about ancient ancestors, heirlooms, royal families and beyond.
The Junk Yard
The neighborhood where I grew up looks so different today then it did when I was little. You see, when I was little my parents and my grandparents lived in an area that was considered the industrial area of town. One could hear trains coming down the tracks or the jake break from a semi truck groan and complain as it ascends to a factory near by. Today, the area has been improved but most of the factory buildings are no longer running and I only hear a train once a month chugging it’s diesel bootie down the track.
By Sheila L. Chingwa5 years ago in Families
The Dancing Girl
She's three years old almost four, and she's spinning across the floor with her arms outstretched from her sides. Her blonde hair lifts off her shoulders while Eric Clapton plays the blues in the background. Her own voice carries over the music light and full of life. She's singing "Let it Go" her favorite song from her favorite movie while Eric is singing "Let it Grow". I'm sitting across from her on my favorite stool, a piece of furniture that features a wooven patchwork pattern that makes me think it is from the nineteen seventies, with a wide smile spread across my face. The music she's dancing too plays on a vintage stereo, that if it weren't for my brother I probably never would have put together. My youngest daughter Addi doesn't know that. She only knows she loves listening to it and dancing.
By The Invisible Writer5 years ago in Families
Activities for Winter – Enjoy The Chilly Breeze!
After a summer and fall of nonstop activities, we've usually welcomed the chance to curl up on the couch and watch the best episodes on Netflix. But, as we all know, 2020 has been a one-of-a-kind year. After many months of quarantine, you'll probably be seeking some creative activities to keep you and your family entertained by the time the formal first day of winter arrives. Same here!
By John Smith5 years ago in Families
Kid Law
Kid Law S. Hileman Iannazzo 8/12/2021 “1...2..3...Red Light!” I shouted with my back towards the other kids, I turned quickly to see if anyone was still moving, thus eliminating them from the game. No luck. I turned my back on them once again. “1...2...3...Green Light'' This time I can hear the rushed footsteps of a dozen or so kids racing towards me. I didn’t even get to yell ‘Red Light’ again before Jamie bolted past me, effectively winning the game. We all knew Jamie was the fastest of all the kids in the neighborhood, and after the required debate on whether or not he cheated, we collapsed on the stoops and curbs that made up our playground. It was summertime, the days were long and hot, and the rag tag group of kids that gathered outdoors in the projects were glad for it. Anything beat going to school, that we all agreed on. If it got too hot, we’d scrounge up a quarter somewhere, grab a towel and walk up to the state pool where 25 cents let you swim all day in a crowded oversized pool with two looming diving boards, two teenage life guards, and a hundred other kids all pissing in the heavily chlorinated water. Looking back, it was money well spent.
By S. Hileman Iannazzo5 years ago in Families
The Southern Cross
It’s dark before the Americans leave. They are four young chaps with shiny white teeth and the shortest hair I’ve ever seen. Before they go, they give Mum a list of all the stuff they’ve delivered. Among the stuff that's listed, there are beds, mattresses, sheets, tables, chairs, a lounge suite, knives and forks and plates. You name it, it’s there. And the Yanks tell her there’s no hurry to return it all.
By Andrew M May5 years ago in Families
The Bull's Run
Sitting on the swing under the majestic maple tree one sunny Saturday afternoon, Grandpa once told us the tale of the bull that found his way home from the county fair and crashed a birthday party. Grandma still had a photo Great-Grandma had snapped that day of Grandpa milking one of the dairy cows while Great-Grandpa supervised, casting his shadow in profile on the side of the cow. Chores had to be done regardless of the afternoon bedlam and it was his turn to milk the cows. It was the week of the county fair and Grandpa and his brothers and sister had taken their show animals to the fairgrounds, including one young bull they were going to try to sell. Fair week was always an exciting time during the summer. It was a time to see family and friends during the long break from school and the parents usually took vacation from work so they could be there every day and help prepare the livestock for showing. Fortunately, the county fair grounds were only a few miles from their home and they could take turns going back and forth to feed the pigs and chickens, water the garden, and milk the cows. There is no vacation from chores and caring for the animals at home and running a farm. The week of the fair had been a blast for all the kids and the adults. There were carnival rides and games of skill in a big oval near the grandstand. The side shows were there, too, including a haunted hall, a house of mirrors, and the freak show in a tent at the end. Thursday night, they each got a dollar to spend on rides and games and shows. The kids had also saved their earnings and allowances for spending money the rest of the week.
By Thomas Durbin5 years ago in Families
Learmonth
It’s the middle of winter and it’s ninety-three degrees. We’ve been boxed inside a MacRobertson Miller Airlines Fokker Friendship for the best part of a day, only to end up in the middle of nowhere. It’s Thursday, the 8th of June 1967, and I’m just seven years old.
By Andrew M May5 years ago in Families
Saving Lace
My head screamed, “What?” as I looked at the photos text to me. Theresa had sent me a photo of the lace curtains she once tried to sell. She had taken down the plaid curtains in her living room and staged her window with the lace ones for the photo. The delicate lace looked romantic as the sunlight behind the pane illuminated a soft glow to the photo. I replied, “Looks great.” I was impressed with the time she was taking to stage the curtains for the photo but I also knew how much those curtains had meant to her.
By Angela Grout5 years ago in Families
The Flower Kettle
Yellow-orange and rust-red leaves were falling from the majestic maples in the yard and the garden was barren except for the pumpkins and ornamental corn Grandpa had planted for Halloween. The last of the dried heads of the marigolds Grandma had planted in the old salt kettle awaited picking. The seeds were saved each year and planted the next after nature awakened from the slumber of winter. The salt kettle was a relic from a bygone industry, one of the first that European peoples engaged in when they arrived in the area that is now known as Vermilion County. Both our Native American and our European ancestors have long histories here and the evidence is recorded in the artifacts and nature around us. It would be fantastic to hear all the tales the old salt kettle would tell if it could talk as well as all the stories told around it.
By Thomas Durbin5 years ago in Families
