Today is Family History Day, so I've decided to share a bit from my family history. My father told me that when he was a small boy, about three years old, (in about 1919) he would travel with his mother to visit her parents every weekend. Evidently she went home every weekend to help her mother with the housekeeping, and he was too little to be left at home with his two older sisters. What I found most interesting though was they way they traveled. They were traveling from the small town of Woodburn to a farm outside of a slightly larger town called New Haven, a distance of about 10 miles. On Saturday mornings my dad and his mother would board the train in Woodburn and ride to New Haven where her father, his grandpa, would be waiting with his horse drawn surrey to drive them to the farm. On Sunday afternoon dad's dad, my grandpa (are you confused yet) would drive to the farm in his model T Ford to take them home. I think it's fascinating the three kinds of transportation they were using. From time to time Daddy would tell other little snippets about the farm, like watching a tornado come racing across the fields or learning that his cousin had been hit by a train, but I never heard details. Family history can be a very sketchy thing.
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