In this writing story blog, I certainly would be remiss if I didn’t take the opportunity to mention and feature the hundreds of family get-togethers, reunions, and celebratory gatherings, both happy and sad, that brought us into each others arms and homes through the years.
This photo, taken in 1952, represents most of the Knapp (Mother’s) side of my family heritage at the time. I’m the one turned around in the chair giving the camera a full-mouth scowl (XME). Around the table are two of my young cousins; my only two siblings at the time (that grew to seven altogether in the years to come), both brothers; my parents; my grandparents Knapp (at the far end of the table); and two uncles and two aunts.
Most of my upbringing included these get-togethers without fail at holidays, and they were also part of how we spent family time when my farming parents were free from farm duties to travel to their brothers and sisters’ houses.
While my Grandparents Knapp lived in town (Holgate, Ohio) all the years I knew them, my other grandparents, Dad’s parents, were from a farming ancestry and lived on a farm in the Malinta-Grelton school district when I was a youngster. Their farm was close to ours, and my two brothers and I would walk there to visit and, mostly, to get those yummy slices of buttered bread with brown sugar with which Grandma Helberg “spoiled” us.
In this second photo, my Grandpa Helberg is the gentleman standing in the background. Next to him on the left is an aunt, then standing next to her is my Grandma Helberg. The children are all cousins, as each of my two brothers and I always had a cousin the same age as each of us. That circumstance gave all of us friends for life.
Most of our aunts and uncles are gone now, and a few cousins have passed on also, but the memories that a picture like this evokes — in any family — are priceless! And every family has them!
Over the years of my growing, I never met a family member, other than my Mother, who was interested in writing. She loved poetry. Much later in life, one of my younger brothers attended journalism school and remains a journalist as of this blog entry. He never took an interest in writing Fiction, however, or blogs, for that matter. So, just where that creative writing gene of mine came from, other than from Mother’s prowess at poetry, I’m not certain. The only certainty is, that writing gene stuck in my bloodstream from day one.