Historical Data

Recently I have been looking at a lot of old family photos; some I had never seen and are circa 1930’s and 1940’s.  I found photos of my parents when they were very young; children in fact. Other photos were of their parents when they were children and throughout their lives.  I could look at these photos all day.  I love the nostalgia they ignite; the history.  Somehow it reminds me that my parents and grandparents are more than just parents and grandparents or even spouses.  They were children who wrote letters to Santa, teenagers who lived at home with their family, young and single hoping to find the right partner.  They are people. Someday I’ll be in my 80’s (Lord willing).  I wonder what will be said when looking at my photos.  They will likely comment on the hairstyle and fashions and try to figure out where I fit in within the family. They may begin to look at me as more than an 80 year old, but as a young girl. 

I’ve always enjoyed going into museums and looking at photos of what a city looked like many years before.  For example when they show what is now a main street but in a photograph 30 years ago. I love to see how it has changed.  I wish I could put together a museum of my family.  Gather everything I could find and lay it out in preservation for people to come see. I would put out pictures of grandma from her senior year in high school and pictures of grandpa from when he served in the war along with his medals and the letters he wrote home.  I’d put out my great grandfathers honorable discharge papers from the Italian army and the photo of him and his wife on their wedding day. 

I suppose it scares me a bit to not know all the stories; all the names of people in the pictures.  It scares me that their lives might fade away if someone isn’t there to tell their stories. But even then how far back can we go?  Realistically today, right now, I can only go back about three generations. Beyond those it might be already lost. The Italian great grandfather mentioned above, I don’t know anything of his life in Italy, only stories after he came to America. Makes me wonder for how many generations my name will be known. Helps me remember I am a normal person.  I am living a quiet life and it’s okay. I wonder if all this digital hoopla will make any difference. If after I’m long gone later generations can google me, will it help? Will they be able to find a Facebook page I never closed? Will Facebook be in fact some kind of updated version of the records one can find at Ellis Island (Lord help us!)?

I suppose for now I’ll continue to enjoy looking at photos and hearing stories and trying to figure out how I can help them live on, leaving the rest up to future generations to figure out.