In this photo taken in 1927, you have my father’s first family. He’s the baby and the tot is his brother Elton. His dad, Bruce Russell, is on the left and his mother Mary is holding him. The other man isn’t identified, so I can’t tell you who he is.
It looks like they’ve been fishing—maybe camping—and the trailer the car is pulling suggest a trip, yet the horizon is the flat of Kansas, so they haven’t gone far. I’ve never thought of Kansas as good fishing territory, but that catch would satisfy anyone.
Don’t you think my grandma looks pert, even a little flapperish? What she didn’t know—couldn’t know—is that before the year was out, she would lose her young husband to a ruptured appendix.
She wouldn’t have to rear her children alone for long. This is, remember, my father’s first family.