If you look at my family tree on my mother’s side, you will
see a lot of sons and relatively few daughters. I am the only granddaughter,
the only niece, and one of a few great-nieces. In my family, that means one
thing: I inherit stuff. I have my grandmother’s china set she built piece by
piece through the Depression, my great-great grandmother’s porcelain bowl she
brought with her from the old country. They are easy to notice, full of
memories. My great-great aunt left me her postcard albums, and it was only
recently I realized what a treasure they are.
Most date from the early 1900s, so are 100 years old or more.
They show a world few have seen these days.
Take the one above. That is Multnomah Falls, in the Columbia
River Gorge. I’ve visited many times, driven past it many more. According to
the USDA, more than 2 million people come to view the falls each year. Here’s a similar photo from 1982.
My husband spotted the
difference right away. The bridge crossing the river is missing in the original picture. It was built in 1914, 5 years after that photo was taken.
Here’s one from Alaska-Yukon-Pacific Exposition in Seattle
in 1909. (And the exposition is a post all on its own—dibs!). This one is near
to my heart because the buildings and land for this world fair because the current
home of the University of Washington, my alma mater.
Then there’s an entire series of ones taken of family
members. Around the turn of the century, it was possible to take pictures yourself
and have them printed on postcard stock. On the back, this one reads: “Bringing in the hay this year. That’s me at the top
of the stack.”
Yes, I inherit stuff. But, thanks to my aunt, I have been
given a piece of history.
