This is a photo of my Grandma Louise & Grandpa Harl Dorsey on the left, and my Great Aunt Grace & Great Uncle Albert Foster on the right. (Louise & Grace were sisters.) It was taken near the side of my grandparents' house in Greenfield, Iowa. I still love that small town, and visit it often, where I spent magical vacations as a little girl during the 1950s and early '60s.
It's the only photo I could quickly locate, but hopefully I'll come across a few more later. I'm so terribly sad and have actually shed some tears, because I learned this past Tuesday, Sept 8th, that it BURNED DOWN. (No cause known at this time.) It had been bought, and sold, and rented over the years, and was in pretty bad shape, but I'd always dreamed of having enough money someday to buy it and renovate it back to the beauty and charm it displayed all those years ago.
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| Greenfield, Iowa - 1950s |
It's the only photo I could quickly locate, but hopefully I'll come across a few more later. I'm so terribly sad and have actually shed some tears, because I learned this past Tuesday, Sept 8th, that it BURNED DOWN. (No cause known at this time.) It had been bought, and sold, and rented over the years, and was in pretty bad shape, but I'd always dreamed of having enough money someday to buy it and renovate it back to the beauty and charm it displayed all those years ago.
I wrote about these four lovely ancestors in several chapters of my memoir, "From Pigtails to Chin Hairs," and how much they meant to me. The following is the last paragraph in the chapter, "A Timeless Journey."
The next time I visit Greenfield, I think it will be difficult to not drive along SW 2nd Street, the way I've always done before, looking for that familiar home, but I'm also sure it would be very depressing to see an empty lot. Only time will tell.
The furniture, pictures on the walls, and
old-fashioned knick-knacks were always the same: crocheted doilies here and
there, roller shades on the windows, white sheets on the beds that smelled like
sunshine, and Grandma’s quilt with the little, yellow sunbonnets on it. This
was a place where time stood still—no matter how long between visits—and always
surrounded me with feelings of love, comfort, and home.
The next time I visit Greenfield, I think it will be difficult to not drive along SW 2nd Street, the way I've always done before, looking for that familiar home, but I'm also sure it would be very depressing to see an empty lot. Only time will tell.
