This dapper guy went off to Ch*na when my dad was young. He was my dad's uncle Albert. I also had an uncle Albert, named for this one. And while this uncle would take the long boat ride home once or twice over many years, he lived in that far away land until he died of complications from a ruptured appendix. I never knew him but have heard about him all my life. My dad was good like that; he taught us to love history and especially our family history. I have letters this uncle wrote home.
Both of my parents had an uncle that died in that country during the 1930s.
This is a photo of an old photo I saw recently. My father's secretary. We were her office help. In the summers sometimes she'd let us run the addressograph, which I think was the machine on the left. And every Friday we came to her after school and folded the church bulletins. We got fast at that job, folding 20 or so at a time, pulling them apart, and then crisping the creases.