The Positive Impact of Time Travel with Grandchildren

Time Travel

Something happened the other day that I want to share with you. Often I get caught up in the day to day business of cleaning, cooking, etc. that I forget how important it is to to time travel with my grandchildren. I’m guessing that maybe you do, too.

It all started with a postcard…

There’s a world of information about postcards online so just in case you are reading this and you didn’t know that folks once had their pictures put on postcards and mailed them to friends and relatives; now you know! If you want to know more about the history of postcards you can read about them here. It’s really interesting!

My maternal great-grandfather and great-grandmother are pictured on a postcard, along with two little girls. One of those little girls would grow up to be my grandmother.

Sometimes I have each grandchild alone and to myself, and sometimes I have the older ones all together. For one reason or another I seldom have my 10 year old grandson, Knox all to myself, but I did and I showed him this photograph not knowing if he would be interested in time travel with Nana or not.

He said he wanted to know more about the picture so off I went on a stroll down memory lane taking my grandson with me!

The Story Behind the Photograph

The man and woman in this photo are Charles Emory Shirley and his wife, Gertie Lee (Neville). They were born in Kentucky but after they married they moved to Washington State where Pa Shirley became a logger. The San Francisco earthquake had destroyed so much of the city that lumber was in great demand.

They lived in a tent and that tent is where my great-grandmother gave birth to her 3 little girls. The youngest isn’t born yet when the picture above was made. My Aunt Ruth was the older child and my Grandma Layne (Nettie Lee) was the baby. I can not imagine how hard their life must have been. From what I have read there were not that many women in a camp. Most loggers were single men who made a decent wage for that day and time but didn’t have many opportunities or places to spend their money. You can read more about what logging camps were like here.

Logging camps were rough and rowdy and not a place for 3 little girls but my great-grandparents didn’t stay in Washington long after their third child was born. My grandmother was born in 1913 and her younger sister about two years later. Not long after that my great-grandmother, Gertie, became ill and died. None of the little girls had any memory of her. I always thought it was the flu pandemic that killed her, but I’m not sure.

After her death my great-grandfather had no choice. He packed up and they all moved back to Kentucky where he bought a small farm. The three little girls learned to cook and clean early and aunts and cousins came over to help with things the girls weren’t able to do.

Papa Bear

This part of the story happened way before I existed. As a child I called my great-grandfather Papa Bear. I have no idea why. I have few memories of him, but not many. He liked to watch wrestling on television and play solitaire. He had snow white hair and seemed really big to me. He died when I was eight years old.

Many years later I was with my husband and our five children down in Florida. We were on vacation and we were waiting to be seated at a crowded restaurant. I was sitting outside and suddenly I smelled pipe smoke.

Papa Bear smoked a pipe.

I can’t explain the feeling that came over me. Goosebumps. Chills. Memories of him grabbed me and I traveled back in time.

My Grandson

I thought by now I was probably boring him to tears with my reminiscing but he stared back at me intently. I happened to remember that I had one of Papa Bears pipes.

I picked it up and handed it to my grandson and told him I would like for him to have it. What happened next caught me off guard and is a moment I will cherish for the rest of my life.

He threw his arms around me and hugged me as tight as he could and burst into tears.

Which of course made me cry. The pipe is in a glass case in his room now and I plan to get a copy of the picture above made soon and give to him to set behind the pipe.

A picture is worth more than a thousand words

I have more old photographs I plan on sharing with all my grandchildren. They may not all be as interesting as living in a logging camp but I can think of a few that should keep them entertained.

Do you get out old photos and share them with your grandchildren? If you don’t, you should try it. You just might be surprised at how rewarding time traveling with your grandchildren can be.

If you don’t tell them the stories of their ancestors….who will?