These two photos of me have been floating around (lots of copies, too) ever since I can remember, so they must have been among family favorites. The photo on the left is me; the one on the right is my Aunt Gladys and cousin Kenny, and my mother, with me as the object of their attention.

My father told the story of his car being stolen the night I was born, while he was in the hospital waiting. When he went to work the day after I had arrived, he told everyone he gained a daughter and lost a car. The car was found - I have no idea how - a few days later, so he ended up with both a daughter and a car. It was a great car, and not long ago Sarah and I saw one on eBay exactly like it for sale. Great temptation, but no place to keep it, so we didn't bid on it.

Accident!
Our 1934 Ford had a luggage rack on the back, and for picnics all the picnic supplies were loaded onto that rack. Before starting the climb up to Red Box Gap and one of our favorite cool mountain picnic areas, the road had a long straight downhill just before a possible left turn. On this day there were lots of cars; my memory is of probably twenty or thirty in front of us, traveling bumper to bumper. Way ahead of us, one of those cars decided to turn left, and stopped suddenly. All of the cars behind him, including us, crunched into the cars in front, and it was a mess. In our case, the luggage rack was what really suffered, along with everything on it. The picnic was held, anyway, and this photo commemorates it! I think we ate the cake, too. (If you want to see more of the cake, click for a larger image.)

However, note the pants I am wearing. This was before the days of jeans on little girls. In most pictures of any of us we are wearing dresses. And I remember jeans being a BIG thing in high school. They had to be Levi's, too.