A Buggy, A Visitor and a Mystery – 1950

The Boston Globe, Boston, Massachusetts
Nov 04, 1947 · Page 13

We were living in Springfield, Massachusetts where my father was the pastor of St. John’s Congregational Church.

One cool day in 1950 my little sister Pearl and I were playing with our dolls and buggy in the back yard. Perhaps it was one of those in the advertisement to the left.

I was four. Pearl was about 18 months. An older girl appears on the scene. I do not remember who she was. A neighbor? The child of a church member? No idea.

Me and my doll.
Pearl joins me.
Showing the guest my doll.
The guest looks suspicious while I explain things and Pearl looks on.
Uh oh!
Pearl is pointing at something in the guest’s hand. Are my fists balled up? My doll watches
Looking for …

For more posts about me and my family in 1950 go to this link- My family in 1950

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11 thoughts on “A Buggy, A Visitor and a Mystery – 1950

  1. Life is full of little mysteries like that. Most of what I remember of my early childhood are really just memories of the photograph my father took, often arranged in an album sequence. Occasionally I will come across a snapshot that brings back a sensory recollection of an odor, a taste, or even a touch. Recently I came across an old Radio Shack pocket voice recorder that had my dad’s voice going, “Test 1, test 2, test 3…” It brings a tear now as I type this.

    1. I do have shadowy memories of my early years. Unfortunately most of them do not match up with photographs I have.

      I have many recordings of my father because so many of his sermons were recorded. I have one of my uncle Henry talking about the freedom Now Party. I don’t have any of my mother and I wish I did.

      And yes, sometimes the memories of the voices will make me tear up. It’s such a long time they’ve all been gone now.

  2. You have quite a look on your face in the photo where your fists might be balled up. The other question is why an adult decided to take this sequence of photos. They must have seen something entertaining about the situation.

    1. My father took photos of everything . No mystery there. In the yard. In the house. Sitting on the couch. Whatever.
      I wish he was here to tell me what was happening.

  3. Lovely to have so many photos of yourself and your family. I do envy you, I have so few of my childhood, and like you, only vague memories. I made up for it by taking a lot of photos of my own family when they were young.

  4. Cute photos. I know I have some memories from a young age because I do have memories from the flat and neighbourhood where I lived before we moved to a house when I was about 4½ or 5. And some of those memories are not linked with photos.

    1. Sometimes the memories and photos do cross in that I recognize some of the things I remember, but usually the actually event in the photo. LIke I remember the metal box our milk was left in and I see it in a photo of the back porch. Or I remember a toy and see it in a photo.

  5. Wonderful series, and you are definitely showing an emotion with that mouth tight shut and those hands at attention…whatever new girl was holding, it wasn’t making you or your sister very happy. I must wonder what your father thought also!

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