On the left is my grandfather Wayne, age 16 years, near Brogan, Oregon. Times were tough, but so was he. He was herding cattle, sleeping under a beef hide robe in the snow of the Eastern Oregon prairie, at age 13.
Wayne's great grandmother, Elizabeth Cole, was born in County Cork, Ireland, in 1825; his grandmother, Hester Ann Weaver, was born in 1849, and traveled the Oregon Trail in 1859.
The luckiest day of his life was when he wooed and won my grandmother Cynthia. Guess it was my luckiest day, too.
Grandmother Cynthia and her sister were orphaned at about the age of twelve, in Durham County, North Carolina. Two kind uncles brought them to Oregon and they were educated at Oregon Agricultural College, Corvallis, Oregon. Grandmother had me reading Greek and Roman Mythology (in English) at the age of five. She and Wayne taught me the value of work, the pleasure derived from the sweat of your brow, the peace derived from being close to the Earth.
Awesome, I miss them...
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