family archives

#ThrowbackThursday: Nana’s presence, near and dear

I’m missing my Nana something fierce these days, so imagine my delight when my sister found and shared this special photograph. It’s a peaceful, somewhat stable moment in our family history, but you can read the previous chapters in our facial expressions and body language. And yet… When it landed in my Inbox, I was able to sense Nana’s presence, as if she were once again sitting right beside me, and that’s what makes this image a rare and wonderful treasure.

(Left to right: my mom; my sister Sheryll and her infant son, Jason; me, opening a gift; and Nana.)

Thankful Thursday: Digital Archivists and Classified Ads

Before Twitter, Instagram and Facebook existed, faith-healing evangelists used to announce their comings and goings in the local newspapers. And now, thanks to the digital archivists who preserved those records, I’m able to retrace my father’s footsteps along the Sawdust Trail.

Newspapers were king at the time–king-makers, too, as my father’s college classmate, Billy Graham, would later attest. Via the Los Angeles Times:

Evangelist Billy Graham recalls in his new book the pivotal point in his young ministry when, during a 1949 Los Angeles crusade, a two-word directive from publisher William Randolph Hearst to “puff Graham” made him an instant celebrity nationwide.

The sudden front-page coverage showered on Graham by Hearst newspapers in mid-October (after three weeks of little notice) was quickly matched by other newspapers and newsmagazines–literally a media circus descending on his rallies under a big tent.

My father never achieved Graham’s status, of course, but his promo pieces were printed alongside the greats. It’s like scrolling through a social media feed, but more meaningful, somehow.

 

Stop and smell the roses

Vanilla beans and cinnamon rolls…Lavender and lemon…Crisp, clean air,  after a rainstorm…Fresh brewed coffee in the morning. These are standout fragrances, no doubt about it, but I’d put roses at the top.

Selected by the Vatican to honor the late Pope John Paul II, this luminous beauty has perfectly shaped blossoms and a sweet, citrus scent. Although it’s relatively new to the rose catalogue, Pope John Paul II is considered one of the most fragrant roses of all time. It’s certainly one of my favorites!(Don’t you just wish this were a scratch-and-sniff page?)

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Pope John Paul II rose in my backyard

 

But when it comes to that quintessential “old-fashioned rose” fragrance, Damask is the once and reigning Queen. New roses are introduced every year, with various “improvements” to her lineage. Sure, it’s exciting to see all the new shapes and colors, with creative names to match. But once you catch a whiff of her classic pink blossoms, you’ll remember her always. Dreamiest scent, ever.

The Soul of the Rose, aka My Sweet Rose, by John William Waterhouse (via Wikimedia Commons)

 

I suspect my big love for roses stems from my tiny grandmother, Nana. One of my sweetest, fragranced memories comes of seeing her dab Rosewater Eau de Toilette behind her ears every morning and massage rosewater and glycerine into her arthritic hands at night. Oh, and when we ran into her arms after a prolonged road trip, she’d pinch her nose and tease, “You sure don’t smell like roses!” In this undated picture, she’s planted herself among her–our–favorite flowers. I’d like to think it captures the essence of her granddaughters, too, who loved her very much.

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Nana among the roses, estimated 1916-1926

#AugustBreak2015 Photography Challenge, continued. The phrase for Day 14 is favorite smell. 

 

Five Facts about Me

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1. I never dreamed I’d live so close to the ocean, but I’ve always felt its pull.

2. If Nature is a magician, I’ve fallen under her spell.

3. I can’t explain this #NanaLove any more than I can count the stars.

4. Happy is my default setting.

5. “Your home should rise up to greet you,” says Nate Berkus, “And at the end of the day, it should ground you in a sense of peace.” I’m not an interior decorator by any means, but I think my home is comfortable and welcoming.

Day 6 of Susannah Conway’s #AugustBreak2015 photography challenge. The phrase of the day is 5 Facts about Me. Ask me again tomorrow, and I’d probably create a wholly different collage. Maybe I’d adjust the zoom lens, crop the pictures a little tighter. But this is pretty decent selfie, for a first attempt.

#TBT: Pentecostal Revival Tent in Johnson City, Tennessee

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In this faded photograph, my father’s kneeling in front of a (heated!) revival tent, with his preaching Bible spread across an open palm. My father said his hands were anointed by God, as evidenced by the fact that when he pressed that open palm on worshippers’ foreheads, their eyes rolled back and their bodies went stiff as corpses. He called that being “slain in the Spirit.”

#TBT A portrait of my Great Aunt Eleanor, drawn from memorabilia

I know very little about my Great Aunt Eleanor, but these artifacts sure paint an interesting portrait!

Eleanor (“Nelly”) was born in Nottingham, England in 1887. She–along with many of my maternal grandmother’s family members–emigrated to West Brookfield, Massachusetts in 1916.  Years later, Nana told us stories later about the WWI German submarines that chased their ship across the ocean, but at the time of their passage, the United States hadn’t yet entered “The War to End All Wars.”

People described Nelly as “high-spirited” and “adventuresome.” She and her husband, Allen T. Godfrey, were nothing if not enterprising. That’s what I heard tell.

When I steered my Nancy Drew roadster down bumpy roads, I found evidence of that.

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The Golden Rule Lunchroom, about 1927 (via West Brookfield, MA Archives)

Whoa, Nelly!

She died the year before I was born, which makes me wistful in this remembering. I think we might’ve shared some things in common. And oh, the family secrets we could spill, over afternoon tea!

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Allen and Nelly Godfrey, 1946

Although she fashioned herself a writer, Nelly didn’t leave to future generations any poems, journals or books. She did, however, enter lots of contests, many of which she won. “Duz Does It All” was my great aunt’s award-winning slogan for a laundry detergent company.

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Wartime was hard for everyone, with more than enough hardship to go around. Gasoline and groceries were rationed, and money was scarce. Few people owned automobiles in the small town where she lived. But there were whispers down the lane about a certain relative who very much enjoyed rumbling through the streets of West Brookfield,  honking and waving to pedestrians from the driver’s seat of a shiny new Ford. It wasn’t common, back then, for women to slide behind the wheel. But Nelly being who she was, I suspect she felt entitled, being the Grand Prize Winner and all.

I’m picturing all this in my mind’s eye this morning, and oh, what a happy portrait it paints!

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1947 Ford, via OldCarAdvertising.com

#TBT: Indoor revival meeting in Portland, Oregon

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Portland, Oregon Revival Meeting, August 1966

 

In researching my memoir, I oftentimes revved up my roadster and slipped into the role of my alter ego, Nancy Drew.  I’ve gathered clues from the National Archives; I’ve explored the sites of former tent revivals and churches, long since demolished; and I’ve unearthed numerous artifacts, along the Sawdust Trail.

And so it is, that on this Throwback Thursday (#TBT), I’m recalling that other blogging meme, Thankful Thursday. I unearthed this classified ad in the Portland, Oregonian archives. Like so many other treasures I’ve collected, it could’ve been lost to time and decay, were it not for for the myriad librarians, genealogists and archivists who’ve devoted their time and energies to the preservation of our individual and shared histories.

#TBT: High school graduation photo, O. L. Jaggers’ World Church

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Here’s another picture of my mother, since this is her birthday week. She’s sitting in the front row, far left, at her high school graduation ceremony. World-renowned evangelist O.L. Jaggers is at the microphone. (World Church, circa 1955. Picture courtesy of Larry Abernathy, O.L. Jaggers’s son, who contributed it to our shared family archives.)