My grandmother at my parents' wedding in February 1948. I can't help but look into her eyes and think of what she had seen in her lifetime: Came to California from Ohio on a covered wagon with her family in 1888, survived the San Francisco Earthquake with her newborn son who would be killed less than 1 year later in a stagecoach accident, lost another child who was a twin, and my grandfather had died and left them broke 4 years before this picture was taken. Yet all I have ever heard from every relative was what a strong, warm, loving woman she was. This is one of many slides recently found at my brother's house. The box is chock-full o' late 40s and early 50s goodness.
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