My grandmother holding my father, his older brother in front, 1920-21

Alice Putnam and her boys. A third one came later. This is Long Beach, California. About two years after this photo, the family moved to Ashland, Oregon. Grandpa had worked as a stevedore and had been injured on the Long Beach docks. Fed up with the physical punishment of dock work - he was a slight man - he built a sort of camper van out of the Ford Model something-or-other and they struck out for homesteading prospects up north. There was terrible, hungry hardship for quite a few years. I don't think my grandmother had many happy times after that. For as long as I can remember, she talked longingly about southern California.

Grandpa eventually built a logging company and was very prosperous. His three sons worked with him and all continued that work after he died in 1952. Grandpa was only 57 when he died and was my favorite person in the world.