Two vegetarian philosophers arrive at the Jennis' beef ranch to be wed.
We asked the reverend to go easy on the God stuff, but he seemed to have other ideas.
Is that a Presbyterian thing? He laid it on pretty thick. He said he wouldn't.
On my side, the whole "famdamily" insisted on attending the wedding. (In town, 8 miles to the east, there was actually a restaurant called, "The Whole Famdamily." We went there; all they had was beef.)
Three dogs—well, two and a half dogs—a salty grandpa (former Communist, later fought under Rommel), a lunatic brother (don't ask), et al.
Good grief.
Kathie's dad, Floyd, avoided military service because of a messed up elbow. Later, he became the Grand Wizard of the Masons in Montana. Very important, respected guy. That's him in the middle. Very Republican. But nice.
It's "big sky country," you know
"Farmer Ron," age sixteen, was bemused by this absurd adventure.
Eventually, he became a philosopher, too. Earned a doctorate at UCLA.
Now, he works for Honda. Go figure.
He's a dad with four small children. He's always covered in kid sauce. When they show up, it's like a military invasion, what with all those special seats and sibling rivalries.
Four kids. I told 'em to stop at two, but would he listen? No.
So everybody's got to pitch in to take care of all those rascals.
I seem to be the favorite uncle. If Ray had lived, he woulda been the favorite, I'm sure. The guy really loved kids.
I suspect that there are one or two little Rays somewhere in the Philippines.
And maybe one around these parts.
It's hard to say.
Mom.
Brother Ray at his most reasonable--next to my dad. Ray seemed to bond with the good ol' boys at the ranch. Soon thereafter, he joined the Marines. He broke his foot kicking one of his charges up some hill; it never healed right. A year or two later, he sought help from a Navy doctor. The darned guy placed a pin on Ray's foot and, without warning, stomped on it, breaking it anew. Ouch. Ray responded with a haymaker. The Marines were unimpressed. Ray ceased being a Marine.
Lots of barns in Montana. They've got rednecks in each one.
Actually, everybody in Montana seemed nice.
That's right. In 'Tanner, guys (like Kathie's bro, Gary, above) wear Stetsons to weddings.
That's Kathie's sister, Cheryl, at right. She was an air-traffic controller just as Reagan became President. The union called a strike, so Cheryl complied. All of 'em were fired. End of story.
Buicks and Oldsmobiles, man.
Ildy and Attila were there, our favorite guests.
I can't tell you how much I loved these two.
Attila died in '86; Ildy died a few years later, an invalid, really, owing to hip displasia.
But my mom took good care of her to the very end.
Sweet sweet girl.
4 comments:
An extremely wonderful trip down memory lane. Thanks for caring for and reviving these photos!
A beautiful life, it is--even through the down-parts. Or so I cannot help but feel.
MAH
I love these photos you've been posting. Are you for hire? I think you could make my family look good.
Nope, not for hire.
I do think that much can be done with old photos, if you're willing to crop them and clean them up. Many of the photos I present here were cropped and Photoshopped, though I actually seek to avoid doing that. Sometimes, however, it can't be helped--especially when dirt or fading are involved.
In my experience, excellence in all endeavors artistic is usually achieved through editing. That's true for writing, putting together a blog, photography, or taking a pile of old photos and turning them into a presentation. You can take a mess and, often, there's a gem buried in there.
That's especially true for photographs, I find.
(then there are purists, such as 13, who would rather I left these things alone! I actually understand and respect that perspective.)
Look how gorgeous you all were. Good stories and memories - thanks for letting us peek in. ES
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