The phone rang. An unfamiliar voice introduced herself as "Helen," and asked if I knew why this phone number was written on an envelope found in a purse she carried at a family reunion held three years ago. A relative must have given her the number but since she had the misfortune of breaking her leg at the reunion, she couldn't even remember who that relative was, much less how the two of us might be related. We finally determined that her grandpa was my dad's oldest brother, Henry. I'm a family history keeper, so the reunion relative must have thought I'd have some insight. Helen knew nothing about her grandfather. Unfortunately, I didn't hve much information for her. She was disappointed but we were happy to be acquainted.
The same week I was surprised to receive an e-mail from Gloria, another relative I'd never met. When I agreed to help her identify some family members, I had no idea that the packet of old pictures would be measured in inches. As I thumbed through the copies, I spotted my dear favorite, Uncle Lloyd, standing beside that interesting person he married late in life. There was my dad, as a young man, astride "Old Ray." The rest of them? I could ask my older brother but I knew he never cooperates with anything. My parents passed away years ago. I had collected enough family history to recognize names, but the faces? Was there anyone left who could identify all of those Norwegians?
Jules! Cousin Jules (age 93) knew all of these people as a youngster. He was happy to not only identify a large percentage of the relatives, but to write down memories that the pictures inspired. He said he particularly enjoyed seeing the picture of Henry wearing his Mason's uniform. "He always wanted to be of service to the community," Jules said.
As I was mowing the lawn, I thought of Helen and how much she would enjoy hearing the stories Jules told as well as seeing Gloria's pictures. I stopped short. The ring! Uncle Lloyd had given me a ring when I was too young to be curious about it. I recalled that he was almost crying when he said, "This was my brother's ring." There was a design of some sort on that ring, I remembered. The lawn mower coasted to a stop as I ran to the house, tore into the pink bedroom and rummaged through the dresser drawer. I grabbed the ring -- a Mason's ring -- Henry's ring -- a ring that had been saved in a drawer for at least 50 years.
It is noted here with sadness that less than a month after so joyfully helping with the photo project, Jules passed away. Record those family stories! Don't wait until it's too late.
The same week I was surprised to receive an e-mail from Gloria, another relative I'd never met. When I agreed to help her identify some family members, I had no idea that the packet of old pictures would be measured in inches. As I thumbed through the copies, I spotted my dear favorite, Uncle Lloyd, standing beside that interesting person he married late in life. There was my dad, as a young man, astride "Old Ray." The rest of them? I could ask my older brother but I knew he never cooperates with anything. My parents passed away years ago. I had collected enough family history to recognize names, but the faces? Was there anyone left who could identify all of those Norwegians?
Jules! Cousin Jules (age 93) knew all of these people as a youngster. He was happy to not only identify a large percentage of the relatives, but to write down memories that the pictures inspired. He said he particularly enjoyed seeing the picture of Henry wearing his Mason's uniform. "He always wanted to be of service to the community," Jules said.
As I was mowing the lawn, I thought of Helen and how much she would enjoy hearing the stories Jules told as well as seeing Gloria's pictures. I stopped short. The ring! Uncle Lloyd had given me a ring when I was too young to be curious about it. I recalled that he was almost crying when he said, "This was my brother's ring." There was a design of some sort on that ring, I remembered. The lawn mower coasted to a stop as I ran to the house, tore into the pink bedroom and rummaged through the dresser drawer. I grabbed the ring -- a Mason's ring -- Henry's ring -- a ring that had been saved in a drawer for at least 50 years.
It is noted here with sadness that less than a month after so joyfully helping with the photo project, Jules passed away. Record those family stories! Don't wait until it's too late.
A Ring in a Drawer
by Lois Monson
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