In keeping with today’s Sepia Saturday theme, I offer my uncle, Dr. Louis Cleage playing an organ. Louis had many talents and interests. He spoke fluent Spanish and visited Mexico frequently. He drove the fastest speed boat on Lake Idlewild in his day. He had a short wave radio in the basement and as WAFM talked to the world. He also was wrote “Smoke Rings” for the Illustrated News during the early 1960s. He had a wicked sense of humor and a laugh unlike any other I have heard. And I’m sure I’m leaving out half of it.
Louis began practicing medicine with his father at the Cleage Clinic on Lovett in the 1940s and continued practicing there until 1974. He closed the doors and walked away after being held up numerous times for prescription drugs.
This organ also featured in a popular Sepia Saturday offering of my mother “My Mother – 1952“.
For more Sepia Saturday offerings featuring organs and other things click here.
This week I spent hours putting my photographs from the paternal side in order. First by grouping them into piles according to the numbers on the reverse side. After dividing them up by number, I then started dating the files. I was able to determine who some of the babies were in later photos by which siblings were already there and how old they were. I will show some of these in a later post. It’s been slow going and I almost missed Sepia Saturday. However I thought I should make an entry. Above you see some of the piles.
These two photographs have the same number. I have wondered for years if that boy with the stocking cap on standing next to the car was my father. When I saw the photo of my Uncle Louis (on the left) and my father, Albert, with the stocking cap, I saw it was him. There are other photos that have both boys that have different numbers but they appear to be taken at the same time on one of the family’s annual trips to Athens Tennessee, my grandfather’s hometown. One brother, Edward, remained in Athens. The rest of the family ended up first in Indianapolis, IN and then in Detroit, MI.
Another Christmas memory from the Ruff Draft December 1991 Issue, compiled by Ayanna.
Gladys Evans remembers when she used to take her family over to her mother, “Gammie’s” house. Her brother Louis was like Santa Claus. He didn’t put on the suit, but with all the presents, his attire was not noticed. There would be a roomful of presents. No one was allowed in. They would have to wait, to build the suspense, until Louis was ready. Then they would all open their presents. They would be just the thing for that person, not a last minute thing picked up on the way home. Gladys said she always wondered if they had left anything in the room. As soon as possible, after the hub-bub, she would go check out the room. There was never anything forgotten.
After Gammie died, Gladys said, her family (now grown with their own children) would have two or three Christmases, one at their respective homes, one with Gladys and I do believe she said they would visit Louis and Hugh also.
I don’t remember these gift laden Christmas mornings because my mother, my sister and I went to my maternal grandmother’s house first. By the time we got to Gammie’s house it would be evening and the excitement had died down. I don’t remember anything I got for Christmas then, but I do remember one of Louis later Christmas gifts. It was the Christmas of 1991. My family and Louis, Gladys and Hugh were all living in Idlewild. My cousin Jan and her family came up Christmas day from Windsor, Canada. There were a dozen kids, 7 or so adults and a friendly rotweiller gathered at Louis, Gladys and Hugh’s house. There weren’t a lot of gifts. Louis wasn’t able to go out and shop anymore. He looked around the house and came up with presents. I don’t remember what he gave everybody but I do remember the puzzle he gave us. We still have it 20 years later. I keep it out on the coffee table with the other puzzles and the grandchildren often dump it out with the intention of putting it back together but few actually can do it without spending a lot of time figuring where the pieces go. It always reminds me of Louis and I’m sure I mentioned more then once that it was a Christmas gift from him.