PHOTO THREAD.
- Thread starter Triumph1300
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Helen
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- Oct 22, 2011
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Great pics.
@Triumph1300 Did you learn by trial and error...or read lots of books about photography?
Do you also develop your own?
@Triumph1300 Did you learn by trial and error...or read lots of books about photography?
Do you also develop your own?
the Jennings family on the farm near Hilger Texas ca 1935 outside of Bonham. My grandmother had nine sons and one daughter. She buried five of them while she lived.
L to right. Albert Clyde Jennings my father. Thanie Ionie Rhonda Lackey Jennings my paternal grandmother. "Ownee" as she was called by all. One of my uncles Finis Eutah Jennings. This photo was taken at the Red River Bridge near Arkansas-Texas border.
Lone Mountain Tennessee school ca 1912 with several Jennings kids in the photo.
John Lee "dude" Winkler, maternal grandfather holding me about September of 1944 in Fannin County Texas near my hometown of Bonham.. Dude was a commercial fisherman on the Arkansas River after moving to Little Rock in the late 40's. I used to sit and watch him mending nets as a boy. A real old time pioneer.
A commanche warrior leads a Pony as a cowboy looks on at my hometown of Bonham ca 1890.
A lone cowboy watches over a horse herd on the hills around my hometown of Bonham, Texas ca 1910.
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Very handsome pics!
My father spent the last twenty years of his life in the VA hospital after having a stroke..a couple of my uncles brought granny down to see her son, my father. She was aged by then. They took her to see him the day they drove down from Texas and she sang the same songs to my father she sang to him as a baby.
They stayed at my father's house with my mother that night. The next morning they found she had died during the night. She had gotten to see her son one last time.
I was out on my tractor that morning and my wife walked down to tell me of granny's death. So many memories. Sleeping as a boy with her in that big feather bed. I was named after her husband, Jarvis Franklin, whom everyone called Frank. She was partial yo me because of that name.
At her funeral in Bonham all those big Texas farm boys, now grown were draped across her coffin weeping and lamenting her passage. She was a brave soul that saw much affliction and heartache in her pioneering life. As a girl in the 1890's she told me she would lie on her bed at harvest time after the days work was done. The negro hired hands would sing and play banjos and guitars to the old gospel songs.
In those days the Texas farm houses had porches that went all around the house. Bedroom had their own door to the porch. Many of the field hands would sleep on the porch or in the hay barn so she had a good place to hear them from.
A simple young farm girl listening to
Negro spirituals as she lie in her bed and the warm September breeze rustled the curtains. Texas in the 1890's.
I relish the tales of those pioneer hardy farm folk and see that I have a wonderful heritage. One of our family relatives wore a pair of nickel plated 45's and drove a Cadillac. I have an intense memory of him squatting behind me as he helped me fire off a round from one of those pistols. I couldn't have been more than 5 or 6!
My father spent the last twenty years of his life in the VA hospital after having a stroke..a couple of my uncles brought granny down to see her son, my father. She was aged by then. They took her to see him the day they drove down from Texas and she sang the same songs to my father she sang to him as a baby.
They stayed at my father's house with my mother that night. The next morning they found she had died during the night. She had gotten to see her son one last time.
I was out on my tractor that morning and my wife walked down to tell me of granny's death. So many memories. Sleeping as a boy with her in that big feather bed. I was named after her husband, Jarvis Franklin, whom everyone called Frank. She was partial yo me because of that name.
At her funeral in Bonham all those big Texas farm boys, now grown were draped across her coffin weeping and lamenting her passage. She was a brave soul that saw much affliction and heartache in her pioneering life. As a girl in the 1890's she told me she would lie on her bed at harvest time after the days work was done. The negro hired hands would sing and play banjos and guitars to the old gospel songs.
In those days the Texas farm houses had porches that went all around the house. Bedroom had their own door to the porch. Many of the field hands would sleep on the porch or in the hay barn so she had a good place to hear them from.
A simple young farm girl listening to
Negro spirituals as she lie in her bed and the warm September breeze rustled the curtains. Texas in the 1890's.
I relish the tales of those pioneer hardy farm folk and see that I have a wonderful heritage. One of our family relatives wore a pair of nickel plated 45's and drove a Cadillac. I have an intense memory of him squatting behind me as he helped me fire off a round from one of those pistols. I couldn't have been more than 5 or 6!
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OH! I hope your not gone long ???? a day or two ?????? or maybe your
just kidding us ?????????????????? Hope your just being funny !!!!!!!!
just kidding us ?????????????????? Hope your just being funny !!!!!!!!
Hi Grams, I feel I need a break from looking at nagging/negative posts for awhile.
The name calling I see got a bit to much for me, I don't need the stress.
Plus there's the danger of getting pulled in to it with no end in sight.
There are also a few good posters missing right now.
So...instead of getting pulled into useless discussions..I'm just hanging low right now and spend my time doing more important things.
Might come back later. Bless you real good, Grams!!
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