Here is a picture of Grandma Sylvia when she was 21 years old.
She was born Sylvia Lugo and she grew up in New Jersey during the great depression of the 1930's. According to Aunt Gloria (Mom's sister) and Grandma Sylvia herself, my great Grandfather Carlos Lugo was born in Northern Spain and moved to America during the 1920's because of a dictatorship. Great Grandpa Carlos and his new wife, my Great Grandma Gloria (who was American) went back to Spain briefly after Grandma Sylvia was born in 1928, but came back because of a civil war in Spain during the 1930's. Grandma had told me that growing up was hard because they moved a lot and when Great Grandma Gloria died when Grandma Sylvia was only 15 it was really tough. Her Father was very sad and drank a lot after her Mother's death and after Great Grandpa Carlos died a few years later, she moved in with Grandpa Jessie who was stationed in New Jersey while in the army. Eventually, Grandpa Jessie and Grandma Sylvia got married and moved to Minnesota where Grandpa Jessie grew up.
The picture was taken when Grandma first met Grandpa and they were going to a dance at the Army hall when she decided to get the picture taken "in her nice new clothes" at Sears.
I will put more pictures on my blog in the next few weeks of Grandpa Jessie and the rest of the Michaels side of my family.
I had forgot to give people an update about the racoons that were staying in the barn behind the hay. The music and talk-radio idea worked somewhat, but the racoons just moved to the other side of the barn in a different hay stack. So, Dad waited patiently (after I begged him) for a few more days and once the cubs started going out on their own, we trapped the Mom and released her a few miles away near an empty house on the other side of the pond. Then we trapped the cubs separately and brought them over to the abandoned house. The old farmhouse is thought to be haunted and people stay away from it, except for some crazy high school students who dare each other to go in. We haven't seen any racoons since then, but I did find a sick pigeon that was by himself on the road near our house that nearly had gotten run over by a passing pickup truck. The pigeon seemed very disoriented, especially after the truck drove right over the top of it with only the wind from the truck moving the poor sick bird. I then grabbed an old grain sack from the barn and wrapped it around the bird and brought it to a fenced in part of the yard that I know wouldn't have any other animals in it and put it in there. I know Dad would be upset if he caught me because birds have diseases sometimes, so I hid the bird in the corner out of the sun and tried to feed it crushed peanuts with a little dish of water. The bird, whom I named Rodney, wouldn't eat and just laid there quivering while I practiced drawing in my journal for drawing class. Just as I finished shading in Rodneys gray feathers, I looked up and Rodney had died. I then dug a hole behind the fence where I knew the dogs wouldn't dig and put Rodney in with one of my old shoes that Mom let me keep around even though they were falling apart. Maybe it would have been better if Rodney had been run over by a truck since it would have been faster, but I think it is better to leave the world as you entered it...having someone to care for you.