My Dad, Lou, around age 3.
As I mentioned in Brantley’s post on nostalgia, I’m going through a box of slides taken during my Dad’s childhood and scanning them into my computer. They’re truly amazing — these tiny snapshots into a world I never knew before. Photos of my Dad as a blonde-haired kid in a wagon. Photos of my Grandma as a young mother, rounding up the kids. Photos of my Grandpa (whom I never met) grilling in the backyard, cold beer in his hand. (I’ve never had Gunther’s Beer before, but I suddenly have an unstoppable yearning to taste it.)
I just came upon slides from my Dad’s first birthday. My mind is blown. In the best way possible.
