Big sister Gus (where'd she get that name? I mean I know ferGUSon but why'd she get it?
People called my dad, and later Steve, Ferg.) with Tommy & Dusty in tow. I used to wander
around in that painting behind us in my mind. 1954

Gus in 1940, "in front of Gramma & Grampa Ferguson's house at 412 Pine St.
Pat Connelly's dad's gas station along side Ferguson's house." Ada Belle and or
Murph lived next door and across the street from them was the Junior High School,
later torn down & replaced by a high-rise home for seniors.

by the way, I remember riding passenger in that coup. We were on Third Street turning onto Fisher
when my door popped opened and I was so leaning that I tipped out the door, my Father grabbing
me by the arm, pulling me back in. Didn't think anything of it, not realizing the consequences if he had
missed and I hit the street. The days before seat belts.

on the back: "precious Patty & Darlene, really, really cute." That's the outside entry to the basement,
and to the right, the entry to the storage space below the sun porch. Much later a deck was
constructed overhead. One can already observe the oldest child's heavy responsibility.

Patty Ann... not sure of the year. Hasn't changed a bit. And that goes double for Dusty (Harold).
I suppose Dusty was named after Papa's brother but he hated that name. Coming out from
under the bed with his hair covered in dust is how he got that nick name (I think). Dusty's
photo is marked 1953, 6 years old.

I put Tommy out of sequence so Patty/Dusty could be side by side,
cuz their size fit together. 1954 ten years

Steve's baby picture. He always had all these older siblings and cousins
and neighbors fussing over him. Don't know if that writing is the photographer or what?

October 1964, Steve 9 years, Marcia Marie 6.

no date on this one of Marcia, b. september 16, 1958

They were so young, and I was already two years in the army. Marcia was born with a heart problem
and a cleft palette, two conditions that complicated treatment. She only lived to 12 years, a heart breaking
loss in 1970. Nanny said that Marcia wouldn't let go, clinging to her for weeks or months. I think it was probably,
understandably, the opposite.

Two children died, one in 1950 and one in 1953, the first never came home and was unnamed. Floyd Steven
was the second who did come home, but only for a month. I was only nine and never learned what caused his death. I remember Nanny hugging the child in his coffin and crying, "My baby, my baby." I found his grave and photographed it in 2014.



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