I’ve always respected my Grandmother. Back in 1910 my grandmother was seven months pregnant with her eighth child, when grandfather was killed in a milling accident up in Erie. She moved to a small town in Pennsylvania to be closer to family.
With the money received from a settlement from the milling company, she bought a two story house. The basement had a dirt floor, so the clothing wouldn’t dry because of the dampness when she did laundry. You can imagine how much laundry she did with eight kids running around that house. Imagine, if you would, Grandma climbing up two sets of stairs and and then a ladder to get into the attic to hang the laundry where she had lines nailed into the rafters. There was no flooring, just the studs so she had to be really careful or she would have fell through to the bedroom below.
She never complained and ended up taking in laundry for townsfolk too in order to keep all those kids fed.
The photos and stories are synchronized. To preserve personal history, my hope is that the anonymous photo and story from a different family will keep the stories of our past vibrant and not these folks to fade away.
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