The image above and below are of my grandfather loading wood into their furnace in the garage to heat the house. In the winter, it becomes a routine for my grandfather to load the furnace every morning, as soon as he wakes up, and every night, just before he goes to bed.
In the summer of 1950, my grandfather got his hand caught in the pulley of a hay loft, which is why his left middle finger is smashed. He was eleven years old.
April standing outside on a wet snowy day.
An electric fence keeps the horses from wandering off and crossing paths with a hunter.
My grandmother watches out her bedroom window as grandfather plays with the two horses.
The view from my grandparent's office window in the basement.
My uncle's ashes sit on a stand in my grandfather's closet in the basement. In October of 1998, my uncle was admitted into the Southdale Hospital in Edina for depression. He transferred to a hospital in Hibbing and was released the first week of March, 1999. On the 29th of March of that same year, my uncle lost his life to depression and committed suicide. He was 30 years old. My grandfather told me how him and my uncle would often haul fire wood down into the basement through the small window seen in the above photograph. My grandfather and my uncle were very close. The following text can be seen carved into the plaque on the earn:
BELOVED SON
AND BROTHER
FRANK EMANUEL ROBERTSON
NOVEMBER 5, 1968
MARCH 29, 1999
-FAMILIES ARE FOREVER-
Uncle Frank's bedroom.
My uncle's closet. The cloth hanging from the door in the left photo signifies my uncle's first solo flight, February 23, 1986. Uncle Frank followed in my grandfather's footsteps in just about everything from construction to aviation. Greeting you as you first open the closet, hangs a denim jacket that my uncle had worn frequently.
My grandmother in my grandparents bedroom. My grandmother has photographs all over the house of her children, grandchildren, as well as she and my grandfather's parents. Family is everything to my grandmother. She is definitely one of the most loving people I know.
The vanity corner of my grandparent's bedroom. My grandmother has told me stories about how fashionable she was when she was in her 20's and 30's and how all the guys would hit on her, such as her creepy boss from when she used to work at J.C. Penney. She had shoes and jewelry to match every outfit. Some of her jewelry she made herself can be seen hanging next to the dresser in the above photograph.
