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First Cousins Jim and Reggie - Wordless Wednesday


My first cousins, James Floyd Carlyle and Reginald Ray Stone, taken around 1954.
Front yard of the home of grandparents Doc and Edna Gailey, on 2nd Avenue
Mineral Wells, Palo Pinto Co., Texas

Photograph in scrapbook belonging to Edna Puckett Gailey.

Comments

Virginia Travis said…
What a precious pair. Cute beyond words. Thanks for sharing!
Angie Pruett said…
Sister Angie commented: Weren't they cute little fellows?!
Thanks, Virginia, for looking at my entry for today's Wordless Wednesday. They were the only 2 boy cousins on that side of the family with 4 girls. And I was the oldest.
JoLyn said…
I love this photo - aren't they so cute!
Janice Tracy said…
These two are perfectly adorable! It looks as if they are bundled up for some blustery winter weather. Makes me wonder if the bicycles were from Santa Claus.
They certainly are a cute pair! Have they remained close? I can see this picture in a great frame on a sofa table! What a great Wordless Wednesday picture, thanks for sharing friend!
Gini said…
How cute those little guys are! I love photos like those! Thank you.
All of you guys are great! The picture is one of my favorites. My 2 sisters lived in that little house with my grandparents and I can see that old tree right now in my mind's eye. I think those were Christmas presents. Must have been December....
Professor Dru said…
What a great photo--such handsome little men.
The boys have remained close in spirit if not distance. Jimmie is an Episcopal priest in Mississippi after spending many years in a church in Kansas City, Kansas, and Reggie lived for years on the west coast and is now back in home state of Texas.

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Acrostic: Bobby
BOBBY


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My Home Town by Dorothy Hansen

My Home Town

For thirty years this California town
has been the place where I have slept at night,
and shopped, and worked, and driven about.

But home is where my childhood feet
ran bare on Texas clay …
on streets that were like arteries
to all the lives I loved and shared.

Now, as storm clouds gather in November
and leaves are on the ground,
these asphalt streets and stranger’s cars
seem even more remote.

I long to live where I am known,
and my grandparents, too …
where all the folks I meet each day
know just where I belong.

They’ve known my folks and relatives.
They’ve seen me go through school.
I have a place on Texas soil
in the town where I was born.

It is my home, belongs to me,
and I yearn for a hearth that’s gone.

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