Wednesday, December 7, 2011

One Hundred Years Ago...

Born December 7, 1911

Today I am REPOSTING  this feature in honor of my father John Patterson.
The original title was December  Boy.  In the great scheme of days
 and hundred years suddenly seems  not  such a long time ago.
My father was an in inventor and played several instruments and
sculpted figurines from wood in his spare time. And like so mnay who offered
so much light in the world...gone...way   too soon.
This is my first offering for Alan's Sepia Saturday. Of all the old photos I have, this one is  very dear to me. It makes me think of the photo that Willow found on one of her treasure hunts a few months ago. As I study it here on the big PC screen, I am suddenly aware that it may have been this very photo that gave me a love of baby dolls and baby boys! Don't you just want to scoop him up in your arms? Can't you just see him toddling downstairs on a wintry morning rubbing his sleepy eyes? Isn't he simply adorable? For as long as I can remember, the photo has been creased and scratched. A few years ago, I did have it very carefully retouched and cleaned up very nicely, but this is the real deal version. Here are the facts as I know them:
This photo probably dates December 1913 or January 1914.
The child is close two years old.
He was a redhead.
He was born December 7, 1911 near Birmingham, AL.
He was the fifth of eight surviving siblings.
His name was John.
He died June 10, 1971.
This is the only known baby picture of my father...NOT grandfather.
(Click on photo to enlarge.)


My Farmhouse Kitchen said...

what a wonderful old picture and story...very nice post...i really enjoyed my visit today...

more later


Betsy said...

Well, I can see why you love it...not just that it's your father, but it is a lovely picture! That's great that you had it restored. I have a few pictures that I should have done. Just one of those things you intend to do but hasn't gotten to the top of the list yet! What a cutie your dad the eyes and hair! :)

Betsy said...

PS ~ how is Matt's family doing? I think of them every time I visit here!

Maggie May said...

What a fantastic, precious photo.

Rowan said...

It's a lovely photo of your father, I love sepia photographs. I have no problem believing that he's your dad rather than your grandfather as my mother was born in 1910. She was 36 when she had me and the youngest child of my grandfather who was born in 1873 so between the three generations we have lived in three different centuries.

Martin H. said...

A dear boy indeed. It would have been difficult for anyone to say no to a child with those eyes.

Alan Burnett said...

Thanks so much for joining in with Sepia Saturday. That is a wonderful photograph. Your father was born a few months after my father and I have a somewhat similar photograph of him at about the same age. It is wonderful to share these memories and these stories. Thank you.

Derrick said...

Hello FireLight,

Super photograph! Such care was taken in those days to capture an image, everything just so, which is what adds to their charm I think.

Electricwitch said...

What a beautiful pic I love old photographs and to have one of your Dad is just wonderful, sadly I have none of my Dad at such a young age, makes you realise how precious photographs really are.


willow said...

This photo is just precious. What a handsome little guy he was. And I can see the family resemblance. You do look quite a bit like him. Thanks for taking part in SS and sharing your treasure. This was such a treat!!

Alaine said...

How very precious and yes, one does want to cuddle him.

Jen Chandler said...

Wow. What a wonderful picture. And what a treasure for you to have and hold.

I love your header picture! It's gorgeous!


Poetikat said...

What a fantastic photo to treasure. My own shots of my dad as a child are few and far between. Both my mom and I wish there were more.

Thanks for sharing such a lovely photograph.

SouthernHeart said...

I can see why you treasure this photo! Sweet and beautiful child. I have a similar photo of my Dad that I wouldn't part with for anything...


Jacqueline said...

Today Firelight, I found your blog...I found your post about your father and it reads like my own childhood.

"My father has been dead for forty years as of this month (March of this year). For the last ten (six) years of his life, he suffered from cancer, likely caused from radiation poisoning that he experienced while (flying in the RAF and then as a commercial Flight Engineer) doing post WWII research at the Pentagon in 1951. I was eleven (twelve) when he had his first surgery and ironically, radiation treatments. All during my early teens and, as I was becoming an adult, he was dying -- and (loudly) quietly raging. He never complained (but I lived each of his three surgeries and numerous vile treatments with him and watched as he took refuge in alcohol) or said anything about his suffering to me. He stayed busy (couldn't work), kept his sense of humor, and took in as much of life as he could. He was a wonderful dad. I was twenty (eighteen) when the "dying of the light" claimed him.

He was born October 16, 1927 in London UK.
He was the first of three surviving siblings.
His name was Leslie Victor Peter.
He died March 10, 1971."

Strange how you and were living similar experiences so far away from each other but at the same time. My dad was 45 when he died - I barely knew him.

FireLight said...

Jacqueline, I was nearly in tears after reading this. Thank you for telling me YOUR story. And let us both thank Tess Kincaid. She is actually the individual who inspired me to even attempt a blog. I have not been posting here much over the past year, but thanks to the Willow Manor Ball, I tried to make an effort to get back into the swing of things. Your comment is a treasure.

About Me

My photo
Recreational scholar, former high school and junior college English teacher. Animal lover (especially horses, dogs, and people), live in the South, sometimes poet and essayist... "Ireland, Scotland, Britain, and Wales...I can hear those ancient voices calling..." Van Morrison from Celtic Heartbeat