A recent passing of a family member prompted me to go through our family pictures that have been handed down and stored away.  You know the kind, where they’ve been tucked away in dusty shoe boxes, tin boxes, cigar boxes. I discovered that I didn’t have many pictures of my mom when she was young.  Sure, I have some of her in group shots when she was goofing around with her brothers and sister, or some where she was posing nicely in front of a statue when she was on vacation.  But wanted to find that certain one of her, alone or not, doing something or not doing something.

Then I came across this one and remembered the story.

I had come across it one rainy afternoon when Mom and I were going through family albums and it really caught my eye.  I liked the black and white, I liked the pose, I liked that it was just her in the picture and at the same time I was puzzled by her frown.  I said, “Mom, you look a bit angry in this picture, how come?”  She took the picture from me, smiled and then told me.  “I was about eighteen in this one.  I was out walking with your aunt and uncle and we stopped at the five-and-dime store for film for your uncle’s camera.  They had the gas pump there and so I decided to go lean against the pumps to wait for your aunt to come out of the store.  There were some guys across the street who started calling me, and when I wouldn’t look their way, they started whistling and hollering at me.  I kept ignoring them, but they wouldn’t stop.  So I decided to give them a dirty look and hope they’d stop… when I turned to give them the “look”, that’s when your uncle snapped my picture.  After that, I don’t know who I was more mad at, the guys whooping and whistling across the street or your uncle for taking my picture when I was mad!”

Now you know the story about the young lady in the black and white picture.  =j

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