Some old Photos for your enjoyment

fiver

fiver

Well-Known Member
i wanna know why they are all shooting up the mountain.
and did the lady on the end get disqualified for being over the line?
 
Rally

Rally

NC Minnesota
Jeff H said:
I've wanted to post this for some while, but it's been a special and private part of my life, insignificant in the greater scheme of things and probably had little bearing on the course of humankind's vector in time. I never wanted to subject it to the potential for a "meh" response of someone who saw it. It's THAT special.

And then I realized that I was short-changing the character of those who frequent this forum. THIS is really the kind of stuff which is important to those who appreciate the elemental forms which work as subsets to a greater scheme. This particular "subset:"

Oscar Brown was my 'cross th' road neighbor" in Cooper Ohio. If you've never heard of Cooper, Ohio, don't feel badly. People who pass through it every day miss the signs. There are, and have been as long as I can remember FIVE households. I was related to two of the other households, but didn't know the fourth family, because they lived on the other side of the "crick," and we were forbidden from crossing it. Whatever law the matriarchs laid down, let NO menial (but loved and nurtured) child neglect to obey, for we truly believed in those days that those women, who managed some of the wildest and toughest men in the County were legally obliged to cull (kill and bury) miscreant offspring on "the other side of the store." "The store" is another story. For now, it's a geographical push-pin.

"Brownie," was the "fifth" family in that little clutch of homes. He was a 'coon-hunter and a farmer. He used an old Ford XN and used that exclusively, if it gives you an idea how many acres he cared for. His place was immaculate - house, garden, hen-house, yard. It gave the impression he was well-off, in fiscal terms. Back over a draw was his barn, which was never painted, but straight, plumb ad level. He kept a mess of 'coon-dogs over there in the shade of a few big, old oak trees and their barking was a constant part of the overall rural background "noise." All were chained to a house and had the dirt burnished to a dustless hard-top in a fan as long and wide as the radii of their chains. They seemed to be always "ON." They also seemed to always be happy.

"Brownie" was what familiars called Oscar Brown. I was enthralled with this old fella, who was "old" when I was six years old in the mid-sixties. He was always in a good mood, wore a perpetual white stubble and bib overalls. His hall mark was a trickle of Redman juice in the stubble of one of the corners of his mouth. I thought this guy was just awesome. I was allowed to cross the country road to his house on occasion, to buy eggs. His wife was one of the most cordial and refined women I'd ever known and kept a stone-walled basement absolutely and impeccably SPOTLESS (somehow), where she kept the eggs in a a fridge.

Depending on the time of day, "Brownie" might be exhibiting the natural angle of repose of a hard-working farmer in the hottest part of the hottest days of summer when I showed up. Mrs. Brown would show me to the front room, where I'd mimic his posture, probably in HER chair, in the shade of that cool, dark front room. No AC in those days, people just knew how to build houses.

Beside his chair was a small tabourette, with nothing but a framed photo (see attached) of him, his surly son and a couple 'coon-hunting buddies, on an immaculate and purest-white, hand-made doily. I was entranced by that photo. A WALL of 'coon hides! Enough to cover the side of his corn crib! The pictured dogs were serious as heart attacks about their business and cared for nothing BUT their business. They WERE a bit scary.

I don't even remember what he told me about that photo as I studied it and ate those thick, round, pink, minty-tasting candies Mrs. Brown set out in a rather glamorous dish (for the rural-type) near her chair. I'm not sure I ever UNDERSTOOD a word that old man said as he forced his wind through his pipes and chuckled hoarsely in lieu of a period at the end of a sentence, but I loved that old man and was so impressed with that photo that it never left my mind's eye.

Decades later, as an Army Vet, world-traveler, grown man, etc., I told my mom about that photo. Brownie had passed and we heard of it through a local paper, because he had lived into his late nineties (Redman and all). At a spontaneous, mini-wake for Brownie at my mom's kitchen table, just her and me, we mused and recounted our recollections of the man. I'd mentioned that I sure would have liked to have had that old photo, because odds were that no one else would have thought much of it and who knows - it could have ended up in a dumpster when they cleaned up his estate for the auction.

Maybe a month or two later, I was having coffee with my mom at her kitchen table again. She blurted "OH, WAIT! I have something for you!" She shuffled off and left me at the table. I could hear drawers sliding, papers ruffling, and after a few minutes she returned and handed me the ORIGINAL print that I used to ogle, while "Brownie" aquiesced about... I'm not even sure. I never understood his flatland-Ohio version of Highland Scot! Hell, he could have been telling me how good I'd taste basted in butter, lemon and thyme, but I suspect not. I loved that old man and he seemed to like me, pretty much. He always smiled when he gabbed, so I took my six-year-old intuition at face-value and assumed he meant no harm.

I was astounded that I was holding the very same print I used to be mesmerized by as a child. Our family wasn't close to Brownie's family. We didn't really know him that well, let alone his surviving relatives.

My mom then explained how she assembled and worked a network from "some lady at the laundromat" to an existing relative of Brownie in OREGUN, who had inherietted a bunch of "stuff" from Brownie, who then dug through it and found the original photo. No idea where the frame went - probably in a dumpster to save space. Save the photos, pawn them off on someone and make them responsible for the currative failure of them not surviving in perpetuity. Easy-Peasey estate execution.

This was all pre-Internet and my mom never had a phone. She tracked that lone photo down in a month or two! While many men feared the men in my family, the WOMEN were the ones to really be afraid of. The things they managed to pull off. The men they managed to... MANAGE. We kids knew, if the grown men didn't.

I share this as a very personal and private part of my life. I've kept this photo to myself, in a book on Mausers for a long, long time. Not very exciting, but mine. I realize a lot of lurkers will see it too, but maybe some determined woman in one of the related families will hit this site on a search result too and find Oscar, Walter, Robert or Homer. I shouldn't hoarde this memory - it's too selfish. Not world-changing, but REAL-WORLD and I just wanted to share it with those who post here.

My apologies for the LONG post, but I could write a BOOK on my "relationship" with that old man in Cooper, Ohio, IF I could actually WRITE.

Left to right: Oscar Brown aka "Brownie," Walter Spotts, Robert A. Brown (Oscar's aloof son), and Homer Dearsman.

NOTE: I have no idea when the photo was taken, but it seemed "old" in 1967. It's 7.25" x 7.25 ", has a .25" white border. "LOOKS" like sepia, but I assunne that it's a B&W ravaged by time. There's a true-to-life professional photographer, with a Polish-sounding name, who lives in PA, on board who may be able to make something of that information. He's actually famous, as far as I'm concerned, since he did AMAZING work for some muzzle-loading-affiliated concerns. He's the master - I'm just a spectator.

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Jeff,
it is obvious that whomever put those coon up knew what they were doing. The skirts are correct, the boards used to stretch them were time correct, and it appears they were fleshed well, many are not, even today. just guessing from the colors of the leather, they appear to have been harvested in about a 6-8 week period, with the better looking hides on stretchers still on bottom row. The picture represents a lot of work by somebody. Great picture.
 
R

richhodg66

Well-Known Member
I read wheer the shot of her clicking her heals together with the ruby slippers it was Miss Doll's feet, not Judt Garland's.

ABout a month and a half ago, they did a special showing of The Wizard of Oz on a big screen theater in Wichita, I took my Dad, daughter in law and grand daughter to see it. I had never seen it on a big screen and hadn't watched it at all in ten years or more. I was impressed at just how good a movie it is and caught things I hadn't remembered about it.
 
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richhodg66

Well-Known Member
This young USAAF Airman has substituted the regular issue M1911 .45 auto for a slightly ill-fitting Colt M1917 .45 revolver in his M3 shoulder holster on Attu, Aleutian Islands - 1943
His A2 leather jacket is nicely seasoned!
Original above caption by the late Ian Phillips
The two variations of M1917 Revolvers were ordered from Colt and Smith & Wesson in 1917 due to a shortage of M1911 Automatic Pistols in WW1. Both manufacturers modified existing revolver designs they manufactured. The M1917 Revolvers used half moon-clips to hold the rimless .45 ACP cartridges so the empty cases could be ejected.
From 1917 to 1919, Colt and S&W produced 151,700 and 153,300 M1917s in total (respectively) under US Military contract.
In late 1940, the Army Ordnance Corps recorded a total of 96,530 Colt and 91,590 S&W M1917s still in reserve, during WW2 they were issued to stateside security forces and military policemen, but many saw service overseas as well….
LIFE Magazine Archives - Dmitri Kessel Photographer
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richhodg66

Well-Known Member
A man on the street in Freer, Texas 1937. I'm not sure what his story is but it certainly looks like he might have one or two!
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Possibly a lawman of some variety.
Credit: Taken by Carl Mydans for Life magazine.
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