his is my mother’s family in about 1946 in Varnell, Georgia. That is me on the 1st row, the last person on the right. I am sitting by my uncle Osmo who was a very interesting man. Behind me my sister has her arms around two sisters. Slightly behind her is our grandmother, and to her right is our mother.
My father is the 3rd one from the right on the back row. Next to him is Walt, my grandmother’s brother, who was retarded.
The only adult in the picture still living is Wallace. He is on 2nd row with his hands on one of his daughters shoulders. He is now 97. He was the head of the state’s rehabilitation in Milledgeville until he retired.
It looks like one big happy family doesn’t it. Wrong! They all fought like cats in a paper sack. The root of their fighting stems from their long-dead father who pampered half of them and physically abused the other half, giving them whippings regularly, for the least reason.
Osmo, the one sitting by me, always knew what to say to trigger them off, and I think he loved a good fight.
3 comments:
Mmmm... my brother-in-law and I were just talking about how you never really know what is going on in private with families.
That's right. I think every family puts on a front, if they don't, they are labeled dysfunctional.
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