My toys
The year is 1945 (or so I guess). The war is in its final stages in Europe. Dad is at an airfield in Belgium keeping B-26s flying. He hasn’t seen me except for a couple of days right after I was born. Mom and I live with her parents—Grandma and Grandpa. All my toys are wooden—normal for war-era toys—except for the tricycle. How did I manage that?
Note the wooden truck in the foreground and the upside down stuffed animal next to me. When I scanned this negative I thought they looked familiar.
Still my toys
It turns out I still have those toys, thanks to Mom carefully hanging on to them. They are not playthings anymore, though. We display them on a wall-shelf.
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