Bridges to the past. That is what old photos are. I was reminded of that yesterday. After having some difficulty in getting my scanner to work, electronics; gotta love it, I managed to post an old photograph online. I belong to a group where we share memories from the old hometown. I enjoy that quite a bit as you never know what will appear from your past. I've had a few surprises and posted a few. For the most part I would say it is a very congenial group. Why just the other day a picture of the movie theater appeared. That movie house burned to the ground back in '64 but I remember it. It wasn't as large a structure as I remembered, one of those surprises. A small discussion followed that picture. Very interesting stuff. So yesterday I posted a picture of my Great Grandfather visiting with a friend. At the time of the posting I couldn't remember the other fellows name. Forgive me but I hadn't seen that man in fifty years ! That is my excuse. Anyway, after posting it I called my Mom for our Sunday morning gab fest. She lives in Florida and is 86 this year. Now she remembered that man. His name is Charles A Mott. Mr. Charlie as I called him all those years ago. Talking with Mom those memories came flooding back. Sometimes when you take that bridge to the past you can meet others there. Mom was there and told me about Mr. Charlie. She reminded me of something else as well. My sister and I had a blow up Santa Claus when we were children. It had a long white mustache just like Mr. Charlie did. We called that Santa Mr. Charlie because of that resemblance. In fact we kept it for many years. Perhaps it was that reminder that kept Mr. Charlie in my thoughts all those years.
As often happens when these photos are posted a little discussion follows. Several topics are raised according to the other peoples interests or observations. In this one the chairs they were sitting in was asked about. There is a story associated with those chairs and I shared that. The walking stick my great Grandfather is holding has a history behind it. I shared that history, although I admitted it couldn't be proved. Then, another individual asked if this man was the father of another. The last name was the same, Mott and he had worked with him years ago at the A&P store. Ernie Mott was the name. I did a quick check on Ancestry.Com and was fairly certain that Mr. Charlie was indeed the father of Ernie Mott. The picture was shared with a lady named Karen Mott that went to high school where I did. Her class was just slightly ahead of mine. This morning, as I checked Facebook,I received confirmation of that man's identity. Charles Mott is her Grandfather ! Now she was surprised to see a picture of her grandfather on facebook just out of the blue ! I can understand that easy enough. It truly is a small world.
Pictures really are bridges to the past. We can walk over them and arrive in a different time and place. Whether we are alone, or accompanied by others the experience is always a little different. Sometimes we come away happy and at others sad. There are times when we see the old and times when we see "new. " Taking a closer look at the past can reveal insight into today. I can't help but think if we all knew our relationships to one another we would also be kinder to one another. Now Karen Mott's grandfather was a friend to my Great Grandfather. Today I shall ask her to be my " friend " on facebook. A bridge ? Perhaps, in a metaphorical sort of way, a bridge has been built and we need only cross it. Well at least we could meet in the middle.
Bridges built and bridges crossed. Some of us burn bridges. Others, like myself, collect old bridges and attempt to see the land on the other side. Exploring what was and wondering about what is to be. It is a wonderful thing to find others on the other side of those bridges that can give you the lay of the land. My great grandfather passed away back in '68 but he is not gone. He is sitting under a tree visiting with Mr. Charlie. I can cross the bridge and visit anytime the mood strikes me. That is a wonderful thing, I'll tell Mr. Charlie about his granddaughter Karen when next I go there.
As often happens when these photos are posted a little discussion follows. Several topics are raised according to the other peoples interests or observations. In this one the chairs they were sitting in was asked about. There is a story associated with those chairs and I shared that. The walking stick my great Grandfather is holding has a history behind it. I shared that history, although I admitted it couldn't be proved. Then, another individual asked if this man was the father of another. The last name was the same, Mott and he had worked with him years ago at the A&P store. Ernie Mott was the name. I did a quick check on Ancestry.Com and was fairly certain that Mr. Charlie was indeed the father of Ernie Mott. The picture was shared with a lady named Karen Mott that went to high school where I did. Her class was just slightly ahead of mine. This morning, as I checked Facebook,I received confirmation of that man's identity. Charles Mott is her Grandfather ! Now she was surprised to see a picture of her grandfather on facebook just out of the blue ! I can understand that easy enough. It truly is a small world.
Pictures really are bridges to the past. We can walk over them and arrive in a different time and place. Whether we are alone, or accompanied by others the experience is always a little different. Sometimes we come away happy and at others sad. There are times when we see the old and times when we see "new. " Taking a closer look at the past can reveal insight into today. I can't help but think if we all knew our relationships to one another we would also be kinder to one another. Now Karen Mott's grandfather was a friend to my Great Grandfather. Today I shall ask her to be my " friend " on facebook. A bridge ? Perhaps, in a metaphorical sort of way, a bridge has been built and we need only cross it. Well at least we could meet in the middle.
Bridges built and bridges crossed. Some of us burn bridges. Others, like myself, collect old bridges and attempt to see the land on the other side. Exploring what was and wondering about what is to be. It is a wonderful thing to find others on the other side of those bridges that can give you the lay of the land. My great grandfather passed away back in '68 but he is not gone. He is sitting under a tree visiting with Mr. Charlie. I can cross the bridge and visit anytime the mood strikes me. That is a wonderful thing, I'll tell Mr. Charlie about his granddaughter Karen when next I go there.
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| Mr. Charlie on left, Floyd Lester on the right. |
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