A girl of adventure and fun, Lenora was often doing what girls should not be doing. She’d been caught climbing trees, smoking and drinking alcohol since her early teens. She was the “wild one” of the pack of children in her family.

Her mother longed for her to be a “normal girl,” but Lenora preferred pants to dresses and smoking to sipping tea. She fought hard against society’s notion of what kind of woman she should be. She begged her parents to let her go to college where she earned a degree in literature.

On the day this photo was taken she was at the lake house with her family. Her father had long given up the idea of getting a proper picture of her sitting on a bench in a park in long, ankle-covering skirt. Instead, her father lovingly said, “Let me take your picture L, you are beautiful!”

Lenora quickly jumped up, climbed up the tree and posed. She was never so comfortable as she was in her skin that day.

Written by Julia Roberts, Kidneys and Eyes and co-founder of SupportforSpecialNeeds.com

On the day this photo was taken Vanessa’s mother had to get out of the house. It had been an unusually bad day. She’d spent the week in turmoil neglecting her children while caring for her ailing mother. She’d decided to take Nessy for a treat because it seemed when she was busy Nessy suffered most.

Caring for her mother while simultaneously raising her children, without the proper help of a nanny, was exhausting. Her husband’s business was not as profitable as it was back in the day and so she was forced to care for the house and the children by herself. With her mother now ill, there were no generational safety nets.

Each day brought new challenges yet on this day it all came into focus when she fought mightily with her husband. She walked out of the house in a huff with little Nessy on her right hip. She and Nessy walked for the 10 blocks and played games and talked and sauntered their way to the ice cream shop, where their favorite ice cream was sold in little cones.

Normally Nessy’s mother was uncomfortable with the children eating ice cream because of the mess it made but not this day. This day she’d realized how much she missed the undivided attention she’d been able to spend with the children and especially her youngest that she threw all caution (of clean clothing) to the wind.

They giggled together on the bench next to the ice cream shop about the drips of ice cream on little Nessy’s white dress and the unusually bad day turned around.

Nickle cones in 1935 and chocolate if you must know.

Written by Julia Roberts, Kidneys and Eyes

Kathryn “Kate” Dooley, or Katie Doodle Bug as her Father used to call her, was young when she moved from Ballina, Ireland to Pennsylvania with her family. Ballina was first recorded a settlement around 1375 when a monastery was founded. Kate’s parents grew up there and saw many changes over the years.

Kate’s parents wanted a new life for their family so when they had the chance to sell what little land and possessions they had, they did. The promise of the United States of America called them in 1858 and so, with a small trunk for each family member and a large one for family heirlooms Kate made the journey with her parents and three sisters.

Kate was 6 when the family immigrated to America so she doesn’t remember much, but she did remember the ship they came over on and how all of them slept in one small room.  She remembers the small apartment they spent a good amount of her childhood in, as it was where birth of the 3 siblings; a boy and 2 more girls, took place. Katie Doodle Bug fell right in the middle of the large family and the nickname was at first thought to be because she was the youngest, but her father kept it up to make her feel special because she was in the middle.

They were a hard working family and saved enough to buy a small home. Her father worked for the Delaware, Lackawanna & Western railroad as a track laborer – back-breaking work he would have you know – while he saved for their new home. As soon as she and each of her sisters were old enough, at the ripe old age of 12, they worked in a Wilkes-Barre silk mill. Their mother did laundry for people for coins and that money feed the family for years.

Kate married James Brennan, a textile salesman she met at a local dance in her twenties. Before then her parents thought she would never get married, so they were quite pleased when James asked for her hand in marriage. They were even willing to put aside their disappointment at her marrying someone who wasn’t Irish because as far as they were concerned she could find someone in their small community of Irish-American people. But Kate and James were in love so her parents said, “At least there is that.”

Kate and James did not live far from her parents and most of her family. It was extremely helpful to have her parents near when raising her three children. Lawrence, Francis and Julia. Lawrence and Frances came to the family in the traditional way but Julia arrived unconventionally.

Kate and James had befriended Julia, a young woman who had fallen pregnant and was blissfully happy in her marriage. The young mother died after child birth from what was likely an infection and the father, grief stricken and unable to function and raise a baby on his own, asked Kate and James to raise her. He’d wanted Baby Julia to know her first mother and father through personal stories that Kate and James could tell. Kate and her family welcomed Baby Julia in their family as the unexpected surprise she was; and they cherished her. Years later Julia’s first father would come to meet her and find a healthy, vibrant, young woman who knew all about him and his beloved. Her namesake, his wife.

Just as the light moved through the window and hit Kate’s face a photographer took this picture. Julia had paid for the photographer to come to the house on Kate’s 80th birthday. Julia treasured this photo and it was passed to her eldest daughter. She told the story of how Nana became her mother. She smiled when she told about how she watched Kate embrace her first father on the very day this photo was taken. He, who’d been welcomed to the celebration of Kate’s well-loved life, and how she saw her mother crying and overheard her tell him “Thank you for letting us raise your daughter.”

Inspired by Charlie O’Hay, who provided “facts” about our Katie Doodle Bug, except for that nickname. Charlie blogs here.

Augustus Juba Freeman was born in 1866 to a young enslaved woman in Virginia named Sula, whose intelligence and beauty had driven more than one man to distraction.  The master was kind enough, and treated her as well as he would have a prized mare, and he agreed to let her name the child he had fathered.  The end of slavery was in sight, though, and if he was irked by Sula’s choice of a surname for Augustus, he did not let it show.  When Augustus was four years old, he and his mother were emancipated, and they left the home of his father.

Sula, a woman born into slavery but raised in a home where kindness prevailed, had a realistic grasp on the ways of the world, and a personality into which bitterness simply did not fit.  She boldly negotiated a generous grub stake from the master, and with this money, brought her son north to Washington, D.C.  Augustus Freeman had a clever parent who gave him the dignity of having lost his father to a farming accident, so he never had to admit to being the illegitimate son of a slaver.  This secret she carried to her death, and none was the wiser, for Augustus possessed African features and a deep coffee complexion that did not betray his real ancestry.

On their journey, Sula met and spoke freely with other emancipated slaves, and a woman gave her the name of someone who was said to be looking for a housekeeper.  Sula lost no time contacting this family, and was hired on the spot.  Though the matriarch wished for Sula and Augustus to move into her “servants’ quarters,” Sula declined, and she and her son lived in a tiny apartment a few miles away.  Winter and summer, Sula walked to work, to keep house and cook and care for another woman’s children.  Augustus was enrolled in a public school and fended for himself every day after school until his mother came home in time to question him on what he’d learned that day, and to put him to bed.

By age nine, Augustus was completely self sufficient, cooking all their meals, doing his and his mother’s laundry, and keeping their little flat clean.  These chores were the nuisances he had to get out of the way every day so he could settle down to travel the world and its history in books.  Teachers had recognized his potential, and provided him with a wealth of reading material, opening the world of ideas for him.  This child was quiet, self-possessed, and driven.  He intended to go to college and become a teacher, wanting nothing more than to give other children what he had been given:  a love of learning and history and philosophy and literature.

Sula remained fiercely supportive of her son and his ambitious drive for education and a career in teaching.  She and her employer grew to middle age together, becoming close in spite of their differences.  They saw their children reach adulthood and graduate from college, Augustus from Hampton Normal and Agricultural School in Virginia, founded in 1868, whose mission was to provide education to promising young people of color.   Hampton graduates went on to provide education to their peers, newly freed slaves from all over the South.

This photo of Augustus was taken on his graduation day, and on the day he was offered, and accepted, a teaching position at Hampton.

Even though returning to Virginia seemed to Sula a backwards step, she moved with Augustus, and they set up house on the banks of the Chesapeake Bay, in a spacious, simple frame house.  Augustus married a fellow teacher, and Sula helped to raise their children. Satisfied with her son’s success, Sula then turned her attention to her own education, and became one of the first black women in the United States to earn a law degree.  At age fifty-eight, she married, but kept her self-chosen name, Sula Freeman.

Written by Leslie Modena, Mangopunch’s Blog

Sweet Corinna on her 5th birthday.

Enjoying her new shiny dog.

A gift from her uncle Jim, who was her biggest fan.

A happy-go-lucky girl that played a lot.

In the sun.

But still her mother made her wear a jacket and hat.

Which is why in her 20s she refused to wear a coat, even on chilly nights.

Preferring a shawl.

When she was little she played a lot.

Skating. Playing. And once a carousel, which she loved.

School. Dances. Best friends.

Wickedly smart.

In the same city as Uncle Jim she attended college.

New York City.

She became working girl.

In the big city she stayed.

Near her Uncle Jim.

Who always watched over her.

Written by Julia Roberts

Kidneys and Eyes, personal blog

Support for Special Needs, networking site

Amelia was just 5 when she got these skates. The second she put them on she felt good and since they had a little key that would allow her to lengthen them as she grew, she had this particular pair until she was eight.

A year after this photo she had to have her father repair one of the wheels and he was not happy about it. Having just returned home from work and wanting his scotch and time to read the paper, he’d brushed her off to their yard man. Martin, who had the tools and the time and more importantly had the desire to fix it for her so she could skate again.

Amelia was quite proficient on them as you can see by the stance she is taking. None of her friends was as good as she was and she took great pleasure in this fact, although she’d been taught it would be rude to show that outwardly. She would glide past her friends who were slower and wobbly and she would say, with a smirk on this inside, “You can do it! Just do this! And this!”

One day distracted by her friends and the sun, she tumbled on a crack in the sidewalk that was lined with upper middle class houses. She saw blood and she screamed and cried. She couldn’t move her leg and her heart was beating so fast she could not catch her breath through her cries. Her hands were dirty and each time she wiped her tears the dirt would move comfortably from her hands to her face.

Martin, who was tending to the yard when he first heard muffled screams, rose his head from the hedge trimmers and stopped cutting. He listen again, realizing it was Amelia he took off towards the noise. By now Amelia’s friends had joined in the chorus of pleas for help and there was no mistaking where they had landed. Running towards the corner to fetch her and bring her home his heart raced, too.

When he reached her he realized that her skin revealed a bone but Amelia was in shock and this was not something she had realized. Martin picked her up gently but swiftly and took her home to her mother. They were able to get her to the hospital where doctors would perform miracles over weeks instead of letting the knee heal that way, making it impossible for her to walk properly or ever skate again.

Luckily Amelia’s mother felt fine about taking her to the hospital that day and during the subsequent days she was there, because she didn’t feel okay about it for a time not so long ago. She thought to herself, “Thank God we have health insurance.”

Written by Julia Roberts, Kidneys and Eyes

I love this picture of me and my brother. We lived so carefree back then and so loved to play in our backyard. We especially loved those bunnies. So did our dog, LuLu. See her in the top corner of the photo? If the bunnies were in the yard pen we had to be with them for their own safety. The bunnies also had safer pens in the garage but we tried to get them out to play in the grass a little bit each day as they were first growing.

The momma bunny Stark (as in white), was our first rabbit. Three weeks after we got her as an Easter gift from our father she had 10 babies. Our father was not happy about this development in our collective pet career. As soon as we could find homes my father insisted we start giving those bunnies away. Gone first were Benny, Tippy, Tiny, Sunny, then gone were Peter and the rest over time.

Not long after her babies were gone my brother started training Stark. That bunny was very smart and eventually we could call her to the door of her cage when we wanted to her to play. For reasons our mother never understood, my brother trained Stark to hold still on command like she was a stuffed rabbit. She wouldn’t do it for long but long enough for my mother to say, “Oh, you two stop that! Why would you want to make it look like she was dead?” We would belly laugh and she would wave us away with her right hand while her left hand rested on her hip and she hid a laugh to boot!

Stark lived for 6 more years and didn’t have any other babies, not that mother and father would let us have another rabbit well, after that 10 baby bunny fiasco or as my father would say, “A regrettable purchase.” The hours I played with my brother on those summer days and school afternoons with our animals are the sweetest memories I have from my childhood.

He became the same kind of grown up person as he was as my young brother; kind. What was the way I repaid him for his kindness to me in our childhood? Last Easter I gave his kids a perfectly beautiful white rabbit named George, except for one tiny little secret. George was pregnant.

Written by Julia Roberts, Kidneys and Eyes