Backwards Traveller

During a recent trip to Santa Barbara, my sister and I looked through several boxes that belonged to our paternal grandparents. Digging through the past is essentially traveling through time, an opportunity to remember when, to wonder why and to dream about what was.

One box contained dozens of photographs. A few were people we knew; some were faces that had family resemblances; the majority were unknown to either of us. After some further review they all appear to be from our maternal grandmother's side of the family, some of them were of cousins that lived on the east coast of the United States, the majority of them photos from Italy of family we can not identify.

Years ago, early in our married life when we lived in Southern California, Cindy and I went to the Pasadena City College Flea Market. I don't recall if we were searching for anything in particular or just looking, but with products ranging from high-end antiques to rummage sale type items it was a good location for either purpose.

I was struck by a vendor who had old photos for sale, collected from various sources such as garage and estate sales. A few of the photos had names, locations or dates on them, but most lacked any sort of annotation. I remember wondering who these people were, where they came from, where they ended up. Mostly I wondered what stories did they hold, what lessons could we have learned from them, what history was now lost forever.

Now I hold a box of photos, most without dates, names or locations. This time I have a link, an attachment to them, as they are of family, albeit distant in both generation and location. It will take time, sleuthing and some guessing, and it may never be complete. They deserve to be known to whatever extent they can be, for they hold stories, lessons and history that need to be re-found, remembered and retold.