When I was growing up, the Petersons (my family) took very few pictures. All we had was a very boxy Kodak camera from the forties, and my parents never thought about recording moments in our lives. Where I have thousands of pictures of my kids and grandkids, I have very few of my own family.
The ones I do have, I treasure. Every few months, my sister and I talk about meeting with our Peterson cousins to try to get copies of photos that they have, to fill out our family knowledge. We have yet to do it, and now we are 60 and 58 respectively, and if we don't do it, the knowledge will be lost, because our kids barely know their relatives. Anyway, I am grateful for the one picture I have, be it bent in the middle, of my dad and his siblings and parents. My dad, born in 1914, is the little towheaded boy on the left front row. His sister Mary was still alive when this family picture was taken, but died at 23 from scarlet fever, that killed so many back then. My grandfather Hans was a carpenter, and my grandmother Nancy bucked her family to change religions and marry him. She never wanted any of her kids to marry, and indeed, Marcus and Ruth stayed home and ran the (eventual) farm, and took care of Mom.
Back row: Ruth, John, Mary
Front row: Joe, (my pa) Hans, Frank, Nancy, Marcus
Frank, the little boy in the middle, grew up to be the spittin' image of his daddy!