FAMILY PHOTOS ON MY MOTHER'S SIDE

It appears that the last of my shoulder/arm damage is related to the amount I want to type. Therefore, I'll head myself off by posting some photos I intend to to remove later.  Most of them are old and will be archived, but not for use right away.

This is my maternal grandmother, from the distinguished and prosperous family called Cochran.  She stubbornly married a man named Pinkerton who was from a coalition of construction brothers and family, not so cushioned.  The bigger girl is my mother Lucy, the girl in arms would be Vera,  the baby she is carrying internally must be Helen.  There would be one more, Aliene.  "Little Women" was a story my mother cherished secretly.  The character do rhyme with these four girls.  Helen would be the Beth persona since she was killed in a car accident with Vera driving, which was never resolved.



The Pinkertons were living in Washington State where they built many of the near-monumental dairy farms.  My mother's uncle died of the fevers that plagued the swampy country and my mother's grandfather was already getting pneumonias and had resolved to move to Roseburg, Oregon, timber country and very hot in summer since it was at the bottom of the Willamette Valley, nearly over into California.  In summer the sisters and their cousins and friends went as a group out to the haystack -- when hay was still loose -- and slept in safety, cooler than in the house.  They were in the country on a little prune farm with an insufficient well.  The mother raised chickens and the father often traveled to construction projects.




This is the wedding photo of the Cochrans, Ethel's parents.  The mother died in childbirth when Ethel was a small child and the echo of this came down many generations.  It was not unusual.  There was a stepmother which was also usual.



This typical assortment of Roseburg folks includes my mother's family.  My maternal grandmother is in the middle in the two piece dress.  The white-haired woman is her mother-in-law, Grandma Pinkerton, who may have already been afflicted by breast cancer.  She didn't tell anyone until she was so far along that it stunk so she couldn't hide it.  The women of this cohort knew to be tenacious and stoic, never to be self-indulgent.  But I don't know whose boys these were.  I guess we didn't stay in touch with them.