Humble Beginnings (1955)
That’s me in my mother’s soon-to-be-overwhelmed arms. She had five more after this photo, and had to wash out each and every diaper. I was ten pounds, ten ounces at birth. Poor woman.
My handsome father got a job in the mines, so we lived in what was called a mining location. It was a rough place; I remember rats in the basement, getting worms, and a ride to the hospital with a tourniquet on my four year old arm.
if you want to know
your place in the universe,
look at old photos
the answer that you’re seeking
is right there in black and white
–Photo not by me, that’s for sure
michaeljordahl 
Thank you for sharing this, Michael.
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You’re welcome, Yassy. I just noticed that my mother doesn’t look too enthralled by it all. Thanks!
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Having three kids ain’t no joke, Michael. You were such a cute baby.
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I love photos and a story. Makes you feel a part of it, even if only a short time. Thanks for the ride.
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Thank you!
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Wow – 8 kids? Your mother was a saint and your father was very handsome indeed!
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Yea, I didn’t realize how hard parenting was until I had kids of my own. But 8 kids back in those times must have been downright torturous!
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Thank you for sharing your personal history!
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You’re very welcome, Suzette!
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I love your perspective on this! You are right, the photos tell the story! What kind of mining did your father do?
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He, as well as his four sons, worked in the iron mines about 60 miles north of Duluth. These mines provided the natural ore for making iron and steel until the 70’s when they switched over to producing taconite pellets. Thanks, Dwight!
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Very interesting. That is hard work. I grew up in SW Pennsylvania, where coal mining with happening.
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Poignant. Very real though.
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Thank you!
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So glad you shared this picture and poem. My humble beginnings started in 1950 with black and white photos. My Dad was a handsome milkman (so you can imagine the rumours) and my Mom was a stay at home caregiver for 4 children of which I was the first. She was beautiful, gregarious and became a registered nurse assistant (so you can imagine the rumours) in our small, rough and tough mining town. I am truly grateful for my wonderful, humble beginnings. Isn’t it interesting that we both became poets.
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Oh boy, the handsome milkman and the nurse assistant in a small mining town; that could’ve been a soap opera! As for poetry, perhaps digging holes in the ground releases some kind of muse. Thanks.
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Fantastic story and a cute photo👌👌👌👏👏
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Thank you!
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