And Then There Were Four

The charming little blonde girl dressed in her Christmas coat and muff on the eve of 1955 was also facing another sweet moment. By the time this family sent out their next Christmas card, young Diana had now assumed the admirable role of big sister.

Or at least that’s how the photographer framed it.

Sitting on a baby blanket in front of a cozy fireplace decked with the obligatory Christmas stockings, big sister Diana is reading a story to baby Judy. Precocious Judy actually appears to be reading along. Parents Sid and Helen are, once again, the invisible signatories to the card, showing nowhere in the picture—though one suspects that either one of them might be the event’s photographer. They do, however, send their holiday greetings on behalf of those in the photo who are undoubtedly not yet able to do so, themselves.

The card, once again, was sent to either William Samuel Bean or his sister, Leona Bean Grant. While I drew it randomly from that big box of unlabeled photographs passed along to me—as if I were a miracle worker or something—I find it a good sign that this family’s holiday greetings were kept from two years in a row. I’m hoping that makes it more likely that I’m looking at family members—why, I don’t know…perhaps holiday hopefulness.

A logical conclusion to the matter would be to search through the myriad other unmarked photos in that box and see if I can match any other names or faces. That, of course, would be too logical for me, right now. For one thing, it is Christmas—I mean, it will be Christmas way before I’m ready for it to be. And I have no time for such methodical tedium right now. I still have packages to wrap. If anything gets a name affixed to it right now, it will be the packages, not the pictures (though I have neglected to label packages before, too).

Besides, I still have umpteen other genealogically-inspired projects to complete—some, before the end of this year. Remember the First Families of Ohio projects? Yep, them. Still need to get in the mail before that December 31 postmark deadline. I may be celebrating my New Year’s Eve, starting from the front step of my local post office.

Regardless, I do long to know more about all these connections to family. Without a surname to help, though, it is tough slogging right now. Do you know how many Sids there are out there who have married Helens?! And with children born in the fifties, it is too soon to be able to riffle through birth records. Diana and Judy—whoever they are—are quite possibly still with us, and it is just as well that their privacy would be respected.

However, if any one of these four were to stop by and leave a comment—or send an e-mail—I’d most happily give them a belated Christmas greeting by returning the sweet photo cards those parents mailed out fifty-eight years ago.