Instant Ancestors

Instant Ancestors
Word Count = 1641

         Linda dropped the old box of photographs on the desk where he was working. Loose papers fluttered across the desk from the force of the dramatic plop of the old box. He looked up from his work, somewhat irritated by the suddenness of the act. He saw Linda standing there, obviously waiting for his response.

         He nodded towards the box and bit, “OK, what’s up?”

         “I never, ever would have believed there was so many interesting and totally fascinating people in your family!” The excitement in her voice punctuated the statement. “Why didn’t you tell me all these unbelievable characters were hanging in your family tree?”

         “What in the world are you talking about?” He returned.

         “I found this box of photographs while rummaging through that old footlocker you inherited from Aunt Barb.” Linda explained.

         “Oh, that box of photos. I was wondering where that thing had gotten off to. As a kid I spent hours going through those photographs.”

         “Well, I would think so. I’ve spent all morning looking at these images and reading the information on the backs of the photos. Forget the housework and all the other things that I had planned to do. These photos totally captivated my morning. The only way I could break myself from them was to bring them downstairs with me.”

         He chuckled as he realized how totally captivated his wife was with Aunt Barb’s special box of photographs.

         He smiled at his wife and said, “You know, you’ve dug up a very special box of photographs.”

         “Did you know about all these people?” His wife asked almost accusingly.

         “Oh yes, I am very aware of them.” He smiled.

         “Well, then, why in the world didn’t you ever tell me about them?”

         “Oh, I suppose the opportunity never really came up.” He stated matter of factly.

         “Dan, you amaze me! With relatives like these, it seems as if there would be ample opportunities popping up like pop corn.”

         Linda stuck her hand in the box and withdrew a photo, glanced at the image, and then turned it over to read the very small print on the back. On the front he could see a photograph of a young woman hanging onto the arm of a man.

         “Like this one!” she excitedly read the inscription on the back.

         “Ola Jane. Ola was owner of a speakeasy in Chicago during the last days of Prohibition. They say she was one of John Dillinger’s girlfriend’s for a while. The man in this photograph very well may be Dillinger. After Prohibition ended, Ola Jane turned her speakeasy into a bordello. It was one of the most popular dives in Chicago. Ola Jane became a very rich woman and although she had many boyfriends she never married. She said men were too high maintenance and she had much better use for her money.”

         His smile broadened as he took the photograph from Linda and studied it. “Oh yes,” he mused, “I remember Ola Jane well. In fact I never met her, but I’ve gazed at this photo in years past and imagined I could hear the music coming from her speakeasy.”

         Linda delved into the box again, pulling out another photo. “And, this one,” she continued as she turned it around showing the image of a group of young cowboys posing for a photograph.

         “Henry Clayton. Henry is the good looking one with the tie on and a cigarette hanging from his mouth. This photo was taken on the day Henry joined the Texas Rangers. Years later Henry would track down and kill two of his companions in this photograph for robbing a bank and killing a clerk. He was one of the last lawmen to ride a horse. He worked alone and is said to be the inspiration for the old saying, “One riot, one Ranger.”

         He nodded and responded, “Yes, I remember Henry. He was one of my heroes, as a boy.”

         “It’s amazing, Dan,” Linda continued. “They’re all like that. Every single one of them; and there must be a hundred of them.”

         She reached again into the box and pulled out another photograph.

         “Look at this one,” she insisted as she turned it around to read the inscription.

         He looked at the image and recognized the young couple being married by a Justice of the Peace.

         “Phil and Janice. Phil is the young airman and Janice is his bride. This photo was taken on the day before Phil left on a secret mission during the initial days of WWII. We found out later that Phil was a member of one of the crews that flew on April 18, 1942, on Doolittle’s Raid. His crew was the first aircraft to bomb Tokyo. Phil died later in the War. Janice, however, did not sit idle. She joined the women’s army air corps and flew bombers from the factory to bases all around the country. She never remarried.”

         Dan smiled, nodded, and remarked, “Yes, I remember them. Heck, I remember them all.”

         Linda reached into the box to retrieve yet another photograph. He quickly laid his hand on top of hers, stopping her from pulling out yet another photograph.

         “Before we read all of these,” He smiled as he spoke to her, “Let me tell you a little something about my Aunt Barb. I think it will explain all these fascinating relatives of mine.”

         Linda furrowed her brow and looked questioningly at him.

         “What do you mean?” she asked.

         “Well,” he began, “for many years Aunt Barb worked as a comptroller in a convalescent hospital. As a part of her duties she was sometimes asked to be the executor of an estate for someone who had no immediate family. After their passing, Aunt Barb would be the one to clean out the personal effects. More times than not, she would find wayward photos mixed in with the personal papers. The subjects in these photos were unidentified. She would ask any distant next of kin who happened to turn up if they wanted the photos. They would usually decline, not recognizing anyone in the picture. She would bring photos home, adding them to the box. Later, as she grew on in years, she’d go through the box with someone and they would ask, ‘Barbara, who is this?’ to which she would smile and say, ‘Why, that’s one of my Instant Ancestors.’”

         “Wait a minute!” Linda asked, incredulously “Do you mean to tell me this is all a hoax. These stories are just fiction?”

         “Oh, not at all,” Dan explained, “ You see, somehow she felt that it was such an impersonal thing to let these people in the photograph remain as strangers. After all, she had inherited them legally. No, after a period of time, she began to study each photograph and allow her imagination to fill in the blank canvas of the history in each photograph. To her it was only right to give each one of them a story of their own. And so she did. Over the years each photograph found their place into the history of the family. I grew up with them. They are as real to me as you are. Oh, I know that it is all fiction. In fact, you will notice a little ‘IA’ written in the corner of each photograph. That identifies the photo as being an Instant Ancestor. But, those of us who have grown up with these photographs don’t let that little detail get in the way of Aunt Barb’s Instant Ancestors.”

         “That’s amazing,” was all Linda could say as she contemplated the great task of creating all those stories. “Simply amazing.”

         “Aunt Barb introduced all of us to a new world of imagination." Dan mused.

         "All of you?" Linda quizzed. "Does everyone in your family know about this box?"

         Dan nodded his head affirmatively. "Yeah, I suppose so. At least anyone who is old enough to walk, talk, and play make believe. I suppose those photographs have been gazed at and handled by every child, grandkid, niece, and nephew for two generations. I wouldn't be surprised it they could quote those stories from memory. I know I have my favorites."

         "Dan, I've been married to you for five years and I can't remember anyone ever talking about Aunt Barb's box of photos." Linda's voice carried a sense of disappointment.

         Dan reached out and drew his wife onto his lap. He pulled her close to him and continued his explanation.

         "Darling, please don't think it was anything intentional. I suppose it's kinda like an old chair. You get used to the thing and you just don't talk about it. The important thing is that you know now. I kinda envy you. You get to be introduced to these wonderful people brand new, as if through the eyes of a child, like I was."

         Linda said nothing but snuggled in closer to her husband, comforted somewhat.

         Dan continued, "Blank histories have been changed into glorious stories that have filled hours of late evenings and lazy afternoons. It seems that without Aunt Barb's wonderful imagination that box of photos would be just that—a box of photos. You’ve got to admit, it’s so much more than that. With the help of Aunt Barb’s Instant Ancestors that box of photos becomes alive again. Now, I ask you, ‘Where is the hoax in that?’”

         Linda turned her head towards him and kissed him tenderly on the cheek.

         “You’re absolutely right. Now, let’s read about another of these fascinating relatives of yours.” She raised up, smiled and reached into the box, retrieving another photograph.