Sunday, September 02, 2012
I never got to meet my grandfather - he died at age 43, just a little over decade after this picture was taken, probably sometime in 1939.
There's something about these roughly posed photos of the past that make them so much more valuable than your typical studio portrait. You see a picture like this, and you think about all the stories behind it. What was going through all of their minds? What were this young family's hopes and dreams? And exactly why does my dad have that sly look on his face?