So far in this series we have seen pictures pulled from the refuse pile. Not this time! This entry has some flavorful pictures, but there was nothing standalone. So what else is a guy to do than make a (hopefully tasty) stew?
First up is the old state capitol building (does that need to be capitalized?) in Vandalia, Illinois. The date on the back of the picture says June 1986. I have no memory of this trip whatsoever.
Since we are talking buildings in Illinois, here’s a picture of the house where I lived from age 3 to 22. The balcony and to the right is the original structure; my parents added the red brick part.
The house wasn’t quite as large as it looks and real estate in the area was relatively cheap – and it still is.
Long ago a person of fleeting national prominence was lampooned for claiming the ability to see another land from their living room. I never understood the hoopla over that statement; this house overlooked the Mississippi River and I could see Missouri from my living room.
The driveway was on the other side of the house and saw much over the years. Not only did the vehicles from the first three parts of this series occupy this space, so did this 1978 Plymouth Volare my parents bought new.
That is me on the bicycle. With this picture having been developed in July 1980, this would have made me seven years old here.
The open field behind me is where Orville would later build his house when he was in his early 80s.
In 1983, the Volare had 103,000 miles and was dumped for a lightly used ’83 Plymouth Reliant…parked here in about the same spot as was the Volare.
That is a very thin me in this picture; I’ve been making up for that trimness the last several years. I’m not sure if I was laughing at my sister’s unique outfit or my dog Pepper appearing to prepare for Unloading Procedure #2.
To the right of the Reliant picture was an ad-hoc parking space. My paternal grandmother periodically used this spot to park her 1971 Ford Maverick during a quick visit. That car facilitated my undying respect for the sheer robustness of the Falcon platform.
While the front of the Maverick cannot be seen, this was about the time my grandmother was attacked by a rogue oak tree that jumped into the road and clobbered the front of that Maverick. This photo was also developed in July 1980.
I have written about the front yard repairs on that Maverick; oddly, that overhaul took place in about the same spot as its shown here.
Incidentally, this is my little sister who just turned 50.
Here’s a thought…it is claimed people decades ago simply looked older at any given age than they do now. I would agree with that, based upon this picture alone, which was taken in 1936. This is my paternal grandfather, Isaac Edward.
How old was he in this picture? Seventeen.
The night my mother and I dug through these pictures, I unearthed a picture of my great-grandmother Allie, Isaac Edward’s mother. I vaguely remember her. My mom commented how ancient Allie looked in the picture. Flipping the picture over, it gave Allie’s age at the time of the photograph. My mom got quiet when I said she is now the same age as Allie was in the picture. My mother is pushing 80 and has yet to acquire gray hair. It’s a genetic thing that I inherited also.
Speaking of my mother, let’s flip to her family. I show this picture (taken March 31, 1959) as it wonderfully encapsulates the time period and it gives a face to several people I’ve mentioned in the past. This is my mother (seated, far right) with her mother’s family. This picture was taken at her uncle’s (back row, fourth from left) home in Houston, Texas.
My grandfather is the bald guy in the back row (age 35), with my grandmother to the left (then 32), holding my mom’s younger brother. I have referred to all three multiple times over the years as “Albert”, “Iris”, and “Ron”. It should be noted my grandmother’s family was tall, as my grandmother was 5’10” and she’s far from being the tallest one there.
Seated to the left of my mother is her Aunt Mary (for whatever reason, it always slid out of everyone as “Ain’t Mary”), with her husband Jon behind her, holding their son.
Ain’t Mary and Uncle Jon are the ones who owned this 1976 to 1978 Mercury Grand Marquis. Long ago I wrote about Mary using a 12 gauge syringe to administer hot therapeutics into the ass of a miscreant who was eyeballing her Mercury. She and Jon were living in Cut and Shoot, Texas, at the time.
What I never disclosed in writing about that Mercury was having also learned there were two others over time who received similar medication from Ain’t Mary for similar behavioral ailments. She, like my grandmother, did not play games.
Jon was in the oil business and would later have this 1967 Ford as a company car, seen here with my shorts wearing grandfather. Jon always had to wear long sleeves at work due to his having topless women tattooed between his wrists and elbows.
My great-grandparents, also seen above, had this Studebaker pickup several years prior. They were driving this when involved in a head-on collision with a Buick near Poplar Bluff, Missouri, around 1952 and it nearly killed them. I was fortunate enough to meet both of them, with him passing in 1975 and she in 1984.
Sadly, all but my mother and two others seen in that picture have left this world.
Since I lobbed out that downer, here’s another. Taken in 1961 this is my maternal grandfather “Albert” (in back, second from the right) along with his mother and siblings. He would have been approximately 37 years old in this picture. He was the sixth of the eight.
All but the youngest, in blue on the right, are gone. Of the other seven, five lived to be well over 90, with Juanita, standing next to my grandfather, living to be well over 100.
Stella, on the far left, later had a Cadillac in which I received a ride from Hell.
Clem, in the back row on the right, once had to teach Stella’s dog some manners. The only liberty I took in that essay was the car; I have no idea what it was, but the rest is real.
However, it is in pictures where one remains forever. Until man can time travel, pictures are the conduit to transport one back to priceless memories and experiences. Odd as it may sound I can best remember the voices of those lost when looking at their pictures.
Pictures are also able to teleport a person into the setting of happenings before their birth or time of awareness. I can almost feel being present in this picture. This picture of my Grandpa “Albert” showed he had been doing one of the things he loved most – deer hunting. If only I could identify the pickup – and the location. This wasn’t his house. Nor is that Buick familiar to me.
I suspect the pickup was not his as this picture was taken in 1974; at that time he would have had his 1971 or 1972 Chevrolet C-10. His was also red but had a white roof, so this isn’t it.
Here is his C-10 at my parents’ house in January 1979 – it’s hard to see, but the top is white. Pay no attention to those four slipping around on the ice. My mother got irritated with my father when he took this picture, but he captured the spectacle so I could use it 46 years later. Or maybe I took the picture. I don’t know.
As a bonus, my parents’ ’73 Ford Torino and “Ron’s” ’76 Monte Carlo can be seen in the background.
Yet I have saved the best for toward the end. This is an older version of “Albert” after bagging another buck in 1987, shown in the back of his ’79 Chevrolet Scottsdale. I rode many miles in this pickup and even put a few miles on it myself. Powered by a 305 hooked to an automatic, for me this is the ultimate of Chevrolet Square Body trucks. All others pale in comparison.
Like all things in life, this brings us to the conclusion of this series. But we have one last picture I wanted to include but didn’t know how until now. As I was typing and sorting through how to present pictures, I could hear Grandpa “Albert” question me for having taken this last picture. I took it at a rest area in Florida in the 1980s. Not having the same urgency to stop as did my father, I walked around a bit before going. Walking down the sidewalk, I saw this in the water quite close to me.
Stupidly, I took a picture before vacating the premises. I can hear Grandpa say “Jason, why in the hell did you take a picture of that? That’s nothing but bad news waiting to happen.”
Indeed, it was.
More links, to add to the many above:
1983 Reliant – The Lioness Feeds Tonight
1977 Impala – A Roadtrip to Cut and Shoot
I love looking at old photos, even when I don’t know any of the people in them. Although I feel like I know a few of them from your writing over the years.
And isn’t it true, you can look at old photos and hear the voices of those who died many years ago. The old cars and trucks are just a bonus.
On the alligator – kids don’t know what they don’t know. “I have never been attacked by an alligator, so it can’t possibly happen.” Luckily, you turned out to be right.
Thank you. I hesitated about including the photos of people because, well, to everyone reading this they are just nameless people from long ago. However, the time period is what drew me in and I figured that alone might offer some degree of appeal.
I cabbaged hundreds of pictures from my mother along with some other items, such as some of my grandfather’s service records. A few pictures tempted me for inclusion here, such as my mother’s cousin Judy who is in the 1959 Houston picture. Taken in 1974, it is the poster child picture of 1970s fashion and big hair. It is awesome. But Judy is still alive and I’ve seen a few pictures I’ve posted here used as memes on Facebook. So I wasn’t going to do that.
About alligators…last year when we went to Florida we took a tour on one of those swamp boats with the huge fan powered by a 450 horsepower Chevrolet engine. The driver got right on top of some gators, and my philosophy about being that close had changed since I took the gator picture above.
Thanks for sharing photos of your family and some of their cars.
Thank you for reading it!
Dear Jason, What a nice tour of your family and their wheels! I, too, enjoy seeing family photos. Your remark that as we look at the picture, we can hear the voices is true. Good family breeds more good family. Tom
Thank you!
This is great, to see all of the folks you wrote about here over the years. I’ve loved your stories; they really bring life in that part of the world to…life. There are subtle (or not so subtle) differences in how geography shaped lives in the US, and although I had a general idea about life south of Iowa from friends there who had close relatives in Missouri, your stories have really brought that into greater focus (and appreciation).
Thanks for putting this together.
Thank you!
You hit upon a really good point about geography shaping lives. Some of my experiences and outlooks on life certainly would not have happened were it not for the geography of the area.
The upshot of articles like these is they are so easy to write! I found a ’35 Chrysler Airflow two-door recently and that is a different lift. Oh, and he was in Auxvasse, Missouri, driving it back to San Francisco.
What a great shot of your little sister and her “Prairie Flower” bike.
I dig the banana seat, basket, and chopper-style handlebars.
Ah, but they’re not nameless people from long ago as you’ve provided the names and fascinating bits of their stories. I love this sort of thing. I can also appreciate the pleasure of physically flipping through these photos as paper prints. I know that digitizing them is the most practical thing to do, but losing the hardcopies is a loss. Maybe a necessary one, but there’s just something about handling these things in real life.
I also love your sister’s bike! The “Prairie Flower” bike was by Huffy/Murray and I believe was mostly sold at K-Mart. At least that’s where my family would have bought it…except we were committed to riding much less cool bikes from Sears. You sister appears to know just how cool her bike is.
Amongst all the pictures were several of my mom’s younger-brother. He died in 2019 and as a favor to his daughter, I scanned numerous pictures of him at various ages.
Some of the prints I acquired were very small, like 2″x2″. Really odd sizes. Scanning them in a higher resolution has brought out many details that would never have been realized otherwise.
Like you I prefer prints, but have come to realize there are some advantages with scanning them.
I love the pictures of cars, people, all of it, and your writings about your adventures with the cars of your youth. I have somewhat parallel experiences, having spent part of my childhood near Naylor, Missouri, and having experienced several F-Series pickups, LTDs, Rangers, etc. Thank you for sharing the memories.
Thank you.
Naylor? I know exactly where that is. I’m wanting to say it was in Naylor where a guy had dozens of 50’s and 60’s model cars parked outside near a restaurant or some other type of business. But this was fifteen years ago, so I don’t know if they are still there or not.
Jason,
Not trying to be a troll here. I hate to admit it but Springfield, IL is my home town and where I presently live (we are however, getting ready to join the mass exodus from this state in a few months).
While I have not seen the old State Capitol in Vandaila, IL, I can attest that your first picture is not Vandaila, but the current State Capitol in Springfield, IL. I was in that building almost daily in one of my past jobs as a technology salesman.
This photo is taken from Capitol avenue, heading west. For anyone interested in Capitol buildings, this is definitely one to see, opulent and a tribute to corruption and excess in the State of Illinois. I do like that big ol’ 2 door hardtop directly centered in front of the statue of honest Abe. Possibly a ‘deuce and a quarter’?
I really enjoy your old photos. Much simpler times for sure.
Thank you. The picture was labelled as being Vandalia, so you have helped me tremendously with that. I don’t know either way.
My parents, like you are about to do, have also had their exodus from Illinois. Mine was in 1992.
Jason, what an enjoyable read! In the March 31, 1959 photo of your mother’s family, the gentleman in the back row, 3rd from the left, looks a bit like a prosperous young Senator John F. Kennedy, perhaps considering a run for the Dem nomination.
Thank you for confirming something I’ve thought for fifty years! That was Bob, my grandmother’s brother-in-law. My entire life I thought he looked like JFK in this picture.
A story about Bob (and his wife Wanda, seated in front of him and my grandmother’s oldest sister)…they visited my grandparents once in the mid to late 80s. During the visit Bob told my grandfather he and Wanda smoked about 20 cartons per month between the two of them. Bob lit one match per day. He quit soon thereafter.
The sheer magnitude of that admission has always stuck with me.
Nice to see folks going about life. No one is looking “offended”, “at risk”, or “marginalized”.
Current day pics seem to show that everyone is (at least) one of the afore mentioned.’
t/y
These pics are great! I have lived in Oregon all my life, BUT have (or sadly had) relatives back east from Pittsburgh to Miami, and been back there many times. Your writings and your pics paint a great picture of life in the midwest for someone like me who has never set foot in a corn field. Thank you!
Jason, as far as I know, Naylor never had the restaurant with the vintage cars out front. Too small a town for that, ha! But fantastic hometown and home base. Again, I love your stories of places and cars you’ve known, at least in part because I’m only a couple of years older than you and have had very similar adventures all over southeast Missouri up to Saint Louis, over to Springfield, Missouri, and back. Keep em coming, sir.
Jason, you just out-ed yourself as the picture thief! I wanted the picture of me with my bike!
Well, copy it off here – it’s already been scanned!
Besides, your momma gave it to me. 🙂