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February 8, 2014

Saturday Snapshots: February 8, 2014



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{Two lovely 1940s ladies - identified as Marie Finberg and Frances Nikstad - enjoying a moment of photo booth fun on what, based on their heavy coats, may very well have been a chilly fall of winter's day.} 



{Sweetness and cuteness abound in equal measures in this darling photo from 1949 of a little girl dressed up in classic Southern Victorian inspired garb for a genteel pageant.} 



{Four yesteryear collage students enjoying a cigarette outside of their (unidentified) school. I really like how in the midst of the other three's more lighthearted expressions, the hat wearing chap in the center is peering dead on into the lens, all straight-faced and serious.} 



{An understatedly beautiful bias cut wedding dress for her and a classic tux and bow tie for him, helped ensure this lovely young couple looked as though might have just stepped out of a magazine or movie of the day, as they posed for their wedding photograph nearly eight years ago to the day (May 6, 1933).}





{With summer just around the corner, it seemed fitting to post this delightful 1950s swimming pool shot in the hopes that it might help bathing suit weather get here even faster (actual wearing of a swimsuit completely optional, of course ;).} 



{I think we can all agree that the cuteness factor here in this lovely vintage snapshot of two little girls and their beautiful pet spaniel is off the charts.}




{A dramatic, dark grey cloud filled sky lends a great depth of interest to this colour taken in 1953 of tourists visiting Moffat Tunnel in Colorado.} 




{A wonderfully pretty springtime vintage portrait of a woman and young girl (likely mother and daughter) posing in front of a blossoming tree, perhaps, I'd venture to guess in their Sunday best.}





{A heartwarmingly precious studio portrait of two young children taken on December 8, 1928.} 




{Saddle shoe, cuffed jeans, plaid shirt, knotted neck scarf vintage causal attire perfection.}


{All images above are from Flickr. To learn more about a specific image, please click on it to be taken to its respective Flickr page.}




♥ ♥ ♥

 
Their names were Flo and Fern. He was French Canadian, she was a native daughter of the Okanagan, who had lived in the charming little Edwardian house, with its coffee bean hued roof and faded cream siding, that she’d called home for very nearly her entire life. A life which, at the time I came into the grander picture of it, was well into its eighth decade.

They were spry and friendly, childless, very much in love with each other, and fond of spending summer weekends at their small 1940s wood cabin up at Chute Lake, a stone's throw away from town.

He would sit outside on their classic porch on evenings during the nice weather and take long, thoughtful draws from a classic briar pipe, the almost indescribably lovely scent of vanilla tobacco wafting down the street and filling my young nostrils with delight. She would have us over for tea, her house more akin to a museum - a small, beautifully curated museum of antiques and wonders - in my eyes, and tell tales, made all the more vivid by the framed black and white photographs mounted on walls plastered with paper many decades older than I was, of what life had been like in this town when she and her sisters were young.

Much like Flo and Fern's house, ours was a small Edwardian charmer, complete with everything from original lead glass windows to areas on one wall of the basement designed originally to house a cache of coal. The oldest house on the street (Tennis Street, to be exact, named for the fact that it once held the town's first tennis court), ours had stood there since 1909. It's still there in fact, though my family has long since moved out.

At the time Tennis Street was a blend of turn of the century homes, some from the 20s, 30s and 40s, as well as newer, more modern abodes. It's entire length up one side could be walked in a couple of minutes, and in doing so, one would likely spot at least a few of the street's elderly inhabitants out in their yards or sitting, like Fern and his pipe, on their porches. Not all of the residents had been there for as long as their homes had stood, but all of those with at least a glint of grey in their hair instantly became like multiple sets of surrogate grandparents to my siblings and I, no matter how long they’d resided on that street.

Some were eccentric, some needed far more care than their relatives could provide, some had fantastic tales and yes, cliché as it may sound, hard candies aplenty, both of which they were happy to dispense at a moments notice. We loved them all, these senior citizens, who ranged in age from about sixty to ninety. Retired nurses, school teachers, WW2 soldiers, railway workers, and homemakers, to name but a few of the roles they'd held throughout their venerable lifetimes.

My family wasn't well off (though the true extent of that fact was a carefully guarded secret in our house), but we never ran the risk of going hungry. There were hundreds of peaches, pears, raspberries, tomatoes and green beans growing in our neighbours' gardens, which they were more than happy to let us come over pick each summer. A good many of which, my mother and I would put up each summer, just as the residents of our street had been doing since before the days of colour television.

They were there with a meal, a smile, an understanding ear, a tire jack, a string of Christmas lights, and yes, even the proverbial cup of sugar (which came in especially hand if one ran low while caning all those peaches and pears), as well as the invaluable gift of their wisdom and life experience. I've always held senior citizens, those members of our society who have beat the odds and made into their sixties, seventies, eighties and sometimes even beyond in the highest of regard.

I loved feeling safe and protected by each of these folks who shared our street, and have tried very hard over the years to keep the memories that they shared with me alive in my own mind. Save for one lady (who, like my family, left Tennis Street many years ago), all of these seniors, these adopted grandparents, these preserves of the past - even if they didn't know I saw them at the time as such - have passed. Many of their beautiful little vintage homes have been knocked down and replaced by faceless, dime a dozen duplexes.

A small number of original houses number still exist though, and every now and then, when I'm downtown, I'll take a moment and wander the length of Tennis Street again, where suddenly I'm ten years old, Flo is beckoning me inside to see her family album (it was stunning!) or take a plate of freshly baked cookies home to share with my family, and my young ears are buzzing with soft voices telling priceless stories that I simply could never get enough of hearing.

I think often of these people and the roll they played in shaping who I am today. The morals, manners, insight, and wisdom they imparted. How generously and wholly their gave of their time, their homes, their gardens and their recollections. I learned at their feet, I grew under their caring gaze, and I hold onto the past with the greatest of reverence and love today, in no small part, because I witnessed a handful of neighbours doing the same, in their own unique ways, when I was at the most impressionable of ages.

Flo and Fern - whose surname, sadly, I have long since forgotten and no one else seems to be able to remember either - left this world quite some time ago, and though they never had children of their own, I hope with all my heart they knew, in their own special way that they had grandchildren in me and my siblings. One of whom thinks of them often and will always, for the as long as I live, treasure their memories as though they were my very own.

29 comments:

  1. wonderful phtotos, i dont know which of the two children phtos (with two kids) is the cutest :)
    xo Fräulein K.

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  2. That's such a lovely story, thank you for sharing! It's so nice to look back into our childhoods of fond memories.

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    1. Thank you very much, Hayley. It truly is. Though my childhood wasn't always a bed of roses by any stretch of the imagination, I do love it when an opportunity or memory presents itself that allows me to focus on an element that was immensely special and lovely, such as this one.

      ♥ Jessica

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  3. Awww... you had my heart melting at the photos... and then you opened the floodgates with the personal reminiscences. Wonderful post. Your blog is the best.

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  4. My sisters and I also have a number of surrogate grandparents too, since we live so far away from our own. We have learned to value their stories and the lives they have lived. They are so precious.

    Brigid
    the Middle Sister and Singer

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  5. my dear - thats so heartwarming and lovely! what a precious childhood memory.
    - and written so beautifully!
    <3

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  6. great pictures! i have to look through them again right away!

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  7. Oh Jessica, what a beautiful, touching post! I am lucky enough to work in aged care and feel such a connection to the lovely souls I meet. I feel totally blessed that I get to share in their long life stories. The photos are adorable too! XXX

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  8. what a sweet story will darling pictures to go along :) I thoroughly enjoyed that little trip back into time. You are a wonderful writer

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    1. Thank you deeply, dear Beth, that is a tremendously lovely compliment.

      Have a beautiful Sunday,
      ♥ Jessica

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  9. What a beautiful memory, Jessica!

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    1. Thank you very much, dear Norah. I'm a die-hard nostalgist and love that Saturday Snapshots posts give me an especially ideal time to share some of my most treasured memories with my lovely readers.

      ♥ Jessica

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  10. I adore this. I never spent a huge amount of time with my actual grandparents as a child because my parents had disagreements with them, but mum did have a lovely elderly friend that was like a makeshift grandma to me. she used to crochet doll hats and over-powder her her face. She's 81 now and still we see her ocasionally. We lend her dvds and she makes tomato chutney. she would have to be one of my favourite people. My mum also has an aunt and a cousins that are in their 70s whom we spent many morning teas with as children. They have both moved up north now. One of them is the best seamstress you could ever come across. I keep forgetting to give her my measurements so she can make me some decent work skirts.

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    1. Thank you for sharing your own experiences with some of the people who were like surrogate grandparents to you when you were growing up. It's so marvelous that your mom's elderly friend is going strong at 81 years old and that you're still able to get together with here. If the seniors I grew up with on Tennis Street were still with us today, I would definitely want to visit each and every one of them frequently as well.

      Big hugs,
      ♥ Jessica

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  11. I too, had similar experiences with the elders in my village when I was little. I have always loved the company of older people. So much insight, capturing stories, cookies, an aura of just love, understanding and caring. I don't find that often now. I miss it.

    All of the photos are so lovely, the statement on top of the post are so true. And how fabulous don't the ladies in the photo booth look? Oh, how I would love to look so effortlessly lovely ;)

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  12. Oh, sweet, sweet Jessica... I was just ravished by your profound words. I could see it as a film in my head to the sound of beat of my heart. And suddenly I was a child again also, transported to a parallel story in my childhood. And we could hold hands as 2 sweet little girls. You have a beautiful and outstanding soul! Keep shinning my friend...for the delight of many of us.

    Miss Beta xxx

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    1. My sweet friend, I do not doubt for the tiniest of moments that we would have been inseparably close had we grown up together as children.

      Thank you deeply for your beautiful and very touching comment,
      ♥ Jessica

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  13. Love the photos specially the 2 boys on the chair!
    http://balearaitzart.blogspot.com.au/

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  14. This was such a lovely piece to read, what great memories to look back on. It just shows how important and significant even the smallest of connections and interactions can be. A wonderful collection of photos to illustrate it.

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  15. What a sweet story. Thank you for sharing, dear. :)

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  16. Those photos are lovable and the one of the mother and the child on the grass is my favourite. It reminds me some photos of my mother, shot many years ago... your words are so sweet, and it's nice to see that those dear people are still in your memories!
    Your post shows that you are a very sensitive person, Jessica!

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  17. I just love these snapshot posts.
    Your narrative brought a tear to my eye. When I was growing up, my next-door neighbours were like an extra set of grandparents to my brother and I. They were an adorable elderly British couple named Evan and Evaline and I just adored them. They came to all our birthday parties when we were growing up, made us scones for afternoon tea every Tuesday and shared amazing tales of their travels and adventures. I loved them both very much and I was heartbroken when they passed away. I'm pleased that someone else was lucky enough to be blessed with such wonderful neighbors.

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  18. What a wonderfully evocative piece! I can remember having several surrogate grandparents growing up due to the fact that we lived so far away in western NSW, AU. The most memorable was Bluey, a widowed gentle giant with no surviving family who used to always meet our school bus and walk us home to make sure we were safe, and always had a cup of tea for us when we came visiting (along with peppermint lollies which we used to disolve in our tea!). It's one of my fondest memories of childhood. On another note, can I just say how much I love your writing. I'm fairly new to the blogger-verse and have never before commented, but this story moved me to take the plunge. I look forward to many more joyful moments reading your beautiful words.

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    1. Hello my dear, thank you very much for sharing some of your own precious childhood memories with me, as well as for your exceedingly kind words about my writing. I'm touched - and honoured - that you opted to comment for the very first time ever on my blog. That means a great deal to me.

      Big hugs from snowy Canada,
      ♥ Jessica

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  19. Lovely photos and an even more wonderful tale. No wonder you grew up with such a love for the past. We lived far away from my grandparents when I was young, so I only have snippets of memories from holiday visits, and we never had that kind of bond with any surrogate ones either. But it's funny to stop and think of those few memories, and how much I treasure them. And I'm lucky to still have one grandmother, and to now live close enough to her to spend a lot of time with her. I don't think I realised quite what I was missing.

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  20. I couldn't agree more about the wisdom and kindness of many older folks. I had some precious people in my past, too whose example still inspires me today (and one of whom I still miss dearly). As I've grown older I've come to appreciate even more the lessons those who've lived longer than us have to share - I actually wish there was more respect granted to age in our society and that people had more time to slow down and listen. There is a lot of joy to be had from that modest way of life!

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  21. I really love seeing all the vintage photos you post. It reminds me of some of the old war year photos and depression era with my grandparents. A picture says a thousand words and a million stories and situations could be occurring while they were taken. I wish I collected some of these old photos I see in antique shops. So much inspiration and bittersweet feelings come to mind whenever I see them.

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  22. This is a wonderful post! The photographs are amazing to see and the story... the story is very heartwarming and heartfelt. You have me envying your relationships with these people and your growing up in such a characteristic neighborhood. But my feelings toward these people and others like them are just the same as yours. I thank my grandma for introducing me to so many things from her era. Boxes of 50's era shoes in her closet. Baking spritz cookies at Christmastime. Seeing her jars of change stashed in the back of the cupboard, an idea likely born out of the Great Depression. You're a fine writer and I love hearing stories like this.

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  23. Ooh, I love the wedding picture. That gown is amazing! If I'm ever going to get married I want to make myself a 30s inspired wedding gown. And this one is a real inspiration!

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