Whilst in Providence, I had a reunion with Ezio (photo above) who still lives in RI. He and my mother are the only survivors from those years. He took me to where it all happened, which was a pretty awesome experience. As usual, I took some pictures:
The first picture below is the tenement house in which my uncle and mother were raised.
Next is the grave marker of my grandfather, my great grandmother, and my great aunt. The years 1924-1925 were especially hard for the family.
The old snapshot was in Ezio's album, and I had never seen it. It shows my father (the man on the left with suspenders, with his hand on my mother's arm), and my uncle kneeling in front, in Los Angeles in 1939. Dad was only 22 and mom 23. Amazing to me.
How important is it to our thriving as a species that we care so much about our past? I don't know, but I do know that who we are matters to us. This attention to history (micro and macro), I believe, is one of the aspects of human nature that makes us so incredibly special and has helped us become the most exceptional species in the known universe.