This week I thought I would continue to write about unidentified photos – this time from the maternal side of my family. But perhaps someone reading this post will be able to give me a clue by looking at their uniforms. I am no expert at uniforms but I am
Is there anything more frustrating than inheriting a lot of family photographs which are not identifiable? I almost think it is worse to have photographs which only have one word on the back – and especially when that word is illegible. Such is the case with the photograph above. On
I am guessing that Australians who read this blog post will automatically have a tune going through their heads as they read the title. The theme song from the well-known Australian children’s television program Playschool begins with the lines: “There’s a bear in there… and a chair as well…”. Playschool
I am lucky that despite war, revolution and immigration, old photographs from my maternal family have survived. I do not know how some of these photos made it through the Russian Revolution. I do not know who grabbed them and threw them in their luggage as they were fleeing Russia.
Last weekend I wrote about my family and their resilience here. After the family reunion I travelled to Neuruppin to research my father’s movements during WWII – more about that in another post, and then to Berlin for no reason at all, except that I love the city. Sometimes decisions
Six photograph albums and a tub full of loose photographs sit in the wardrobe of my spare room. Most of the photographs are from my maternal side of the family. There are so many of them, I am daunted by the thought of sorting through them. One of them is