My grandfather was so talented. He died when I was only 10 or 11, but when I think of him, I picture him playing the piano, or organ, or trumpet, or trombone. My grandmother still has his trumpet, and it's on my list of things to learn.
My grandfather travelled all over with his band mates. He has a photo album, from where these pictures come, and there are pictures of Niagara Falls, New York City, Washington DC, Atlantic City, Quebec City... the list goes on. The sad thing is that because my grandfather was such a shutterbug, very few of the pictures have him in them.
Here he is picking up my grandmother in a stance that my brother who barely knew him can mimic so well at age 21. My brother has so many of his mannerisms, facial expressions... he just lacks the gentlemanly charm that comes from being polished in the 40s and 50s. In the picture above, he's 26... it's April 1958, and two months before he and my grandmother get married.