Those 70ish Girls

There’s this memorable old b and w photo from about 1915 of my young, beautiful, hardworking grandparents: grandpa so young in overalls, thin, tall, with a full head of hair, with his oldest two year old son, Wayne, who is looking like a grumpy toddler grasping onto the pant leg of his Dad’s overalls and petite Grandma wearing a long white two-piece homespun dress, holding baby Ella, my Mom, staring seriously into the camera and wearing her dark hair up, a bit disheveled in the prairie wind and sun, next to her handsome young husband. The flat, seemingly barren, never ending prairie goes rolling out behind them. Also standing next to them is a young gal totally dressed up in opposite style clothing, clashing in her citified hat, suit and manner with the harsh unforgiving plains of South Dakota. To this day we don’t know who she was but Grandma’s parents are next to this unknown woman. They are Perry and Elizabeth Tyrrell visiting from their farm in Iowa. They, too, are dressed up in typical 1900’s style clothes, like what you would wear for a long train trip obviously not ready to work on the farm that day. Perry is politely holding his hat and his wife gently reaches out with a hand touching little Wayne. The contrast between the young farming couple with two small children and the Iowa visitors is stark. This photo reflects a myriad of feelings, family history and questions. I’m captivated seeing it time and time again, never tiring of viewing my strong, loving, hopeful grandparents and the visiting Iowa relatives. They are frozen in time, in history with this photo, yet vibrant and youthful in the hopes for their future.

My family on my mother’s side was brave, capable and ready to take on the adventure and the toil of working on the hard untilled sod of the virgin prairie. My Mom stressed throughout my young days that I came from good people and no matter how rough life gets, I was part of a strong, courageous heritage. That strength was carried within me. I can hear them saying: Don’t let it go, pass it along to your offspring. Keep the spirit alive.

I’m trying to give that to my children and let my three children know that they have the same ancestry and the strong family background especially on my Mom’s side. It’s part of them. It’s in their blood. You can almost grasp it there in these old photos.

Don’t whine or complain that life is too hard. Your great grandparents truly had it rough farming in the early 1900’s in South Dakota, with the fears of WWI in the present and the Dirty Thirties and the Great Depression soon to creep into their future, but they didn’t complain nor give up. They should be an example to us all even in these modern times.

I hope my adult children take after my Mom’s side even though my dad’s family were amazing people also but in a different environment. I keep stressing to my kids to never give up. Keep going. Follow in the deep footsteps of your ancestors. They left some plans for us, some blueprint that life was harsh, but by their example you know you have the power in your heart and your body to follow their previous ideals to get through life. My grandparents did it and did it gracefully.