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Vintage content about families throughout history; all about ancient ancestors, heirlooms, royal families and beyond.
SOMETIMES (part 7 of 8)
SOMETIMES-7 121- The Accident After dad passed, Sister brought the first of her three children into the world. Soon after, she was involved in a very bad car accident, which almost took her life. She hit a tree one night on the way home after a few drinks with a friend, while drag racing down a street in Yonkers. The ‘friend’ did not stop to help, but paid an anonymous call to the hospital, located right at the scene of the accident. Mom had a premonition that night in her sleep. She suddenly took very ill and had a fever and sweating/chills for no apparent reason, waking her up. When the phone call of the accident came shortly after, mom’s symptoms disappeared.
By Christine Garza5 years ago in Families
SOMETIMES (part 5 of 8)
SOMETIMES-5 81- People and Places Boulder City’s population of 4,000 was a small, tight community. The local bar gave out free beers if the sun didn’t shine any day in Boulder City. In the eight months we lived there, they gave away beers only once.
By Christine Garza5 years ago in Families
SOMETIMES (part 6 of 8)
SOMETIMES-6 101-I am W-O-M-A-N We rolled into town and took an upstairs apt in a house on Tillman street. The owners lived downstairs and there was an inside stairway that separated the two living quarters between the two floors. It was a nice one bedroom apt, with a folding bed set up in the living room for me. I had to make my bed every morning before I left the room, a practice that I keep to this day.
By Christine Garza5 years ago in Families
SOMETIMES ( part 4 of 8)
SOMETIMES-4 61-My Brother, The Marine, and Some Serious Business I don’t recall our first night on the road. I wonder if we stopped one night or my Mom drove right through to South Carolina. Could be either. But when we reached Paris Island, where my brother was stationed in the Marine Corps, I was so excited to see him. This is where he lived now, and I would get to see what it was like for my brother to be a soldier.
By Christine Garza5 years ago in Families
The Great Neighborhood Debate of 1977
The Story The summer of 1977 was the summer of the great debate in my neighborhood. I was 11 years old. The controversy: Rocky vs Star Wars. It was divisive. You were on one side of this proverbial fence or the other. And while it didn’t end friendships (because the bonds of summer bike rides and swimming and camping in the back yard were too strong) it did spawn many an argument.
By Donna L. Roberts, PhD (Psych Pstuff)5 years ago in Families
Lurlyne and the Amazing Technicolor Quilt Coat. Top Story - June 2021.
My jaw hit the floor the first time I saw a quilt coat. A friend, and fellow crafter, sent me a photo of a bright and beautiful patchwork quilt made into a knee length coat. I was enraputred. How cool! How retro! How could I have lived this long without my own?!
By Pamela Bullock 5 years ago in Families
Simply The Best
Being born in 1952 I really didn’t get to know my mother until I was about four years old. Although I can frequently recall her holding my hand or lifting me off the double-decker bus that took us into town. The one thing that does stick in my mind from all those years ago is how hard she worked. She was always the first to rise and always the last to bed. I can’t ever recall her sitting down and having a catnap or five minutes break. I do remember that she was always with child and I would have been fifth of six at that time, with the oldest being eight and the youngest 18 months.
By Eric Harvey5 years ago in Families
Sacrifice
The Greatest Mother in the World "My mother is the greatest mother in the world!" Everyone who loves their mother says it without hesitation, and every one of them is right. To the child who looks to her for guidance, protection, and love, a mother is the whole world. God designed that bond to begin before we ever draw a breath; the psalmist says He knit us together in our mother's womb. The bond formed by making life, giving life, and then nourishing that life is priceless. A mother sees her own eyes, smile, and laugh in her son or daughter, little reflections she never noticed in herself until she saw them in her child. She guides, because she wants her child to have the best of everything and to grow up in love and happiness. She protects, because this child is her world given form, with her stamp on every feature. And she loves with a love she never knew she had, a love that will sacrifice everything so her child can be happy. A mother who gives up her time, her health, and her money to build a better life for her children is truly an angel without wings. So, as cliché as it sounds: my mother is the greatest mother in the world, to me.
By Dr. George Shannon Ferguson5 years ago in Families
Mama's Magic Meatballs
Mama’s Magic Meatballs You could smell it blocks away. The roasting garlic, sweet basil, oregano and other secret spices. You could hear the low, sizzling of the meatballs gently being rolled in the frying pan. The big pot of homemade sauce simmering slowly for hours would make you salivate in anticipation. We had to go outside and play. “Stay out of Mamma’s way”. She was stirring up magic in her caldron. The kitchen was her sacred temple. And only when you were old enough for the rite of passage, the initiation into womanhood, you would be invited to watch, and to learn, and behold the secret recipe to her infamous meatballs.
By Diane Albright5 years ago in Families
A Childhood in Technicolour
This story is set in a little town, far far away, nestled in the flats of Goulburn Valley. Fruit grows in abundance in Mooroopna, yet no-one seems to know where it is. To me, it is a place where my imagination grew from a seed and my creativity was discovered at its source. My memories of 1970’s country life are like an old reel to reel movie. I flick through each frame, taking myself backwards to a moment that comes to life in full colour. My memories are found in Mooroopna’s streets, its old buildings, the land, the weather and of course my childhood home, which still stands like a palace in its own kingdom. Memories live inside it walls, pulsing vibrantly, the source of everything that makes me, me.
By Kate Ashforth5 years ago in Families
