Last evening, I was hot and decided to start the Herculean task of cleaning out my computer and general clutter room. Bins of photographs cover the floor of one closet. Some are old photos passed down through the generations. Some are newer photos from trips my mother-in-law Retha Morrison took on trips with friends. There are some pictures and negatives that my daughter Amanda Yoder took when she was in the photography business. School portraits of the kids, my wife, and me are tucked in bins for safe keeping. There are portraits of the family, chronicling our family and the styles through the years.
Some black and white photographs are from World War II era of men wearing uniforms, women in “stylish” outfits strolling down the street, and kids in clothes that haven’t changed all that much, wearing t shirts and jeans.
Christmas cards, birthday cards, thank you cards, and of course post cards were stuck in candy boxes, card boxes, and bins, just waiting for me to sort through. I never know whether to keep or toss, especially when the person that sent it is no longer alive. There is one thing for sure. I’ll never get another card from them. As I sorted through the cards, I found a check from November 2016. I’m rich, that is if the check is still good.
I gathered some newspaper clippings, photos with no names, etc. together and I plan to donate them to a local historical society. They have little meaning to me and will enhance the archives of the area. I still have my papers to sort, but the dust and concern has given me a headache. They can wait for another day.