A pihoto in my desk of a porch I don't know....

So, there's this front porch in a photo I have in my desk. There are 8 steps up to the porch. There is nothing on the porch I can see from the photo. I do not know this house or these steps or this porch.

My father is in the photo with four young to adolescent boys. They are all sitting on the steps.

On the back someone has written this: "Virgil Bradley, Mack Hall, Pat Lafon, Billy Joe Lafon, Greg Bradley.

I know three of those names: my father Virgil's, of course, Pat Lafon (who lived with my parents until I was born, my father's nephew and I grew up in "Pat's room", he became a Nazarene preacher, go figure. And Greg Bradley is my Uncle Sid and Aunt Callie's oldest child. Mack Hall and Billy Joe Lafon, I do not know. Lafon is one of my paternal family names--but I know no one named Billy Joe....Wait, I do, I remember now. He lived in Point Pleasant and his name was Billy and he adopted a son and never told the boy he was adopted and when the son found out he left and never contacted Billy or Lorraine, his mother again. I'd almost forgotten that story of my family and my life because I was so much younger that Billy or Greg or Pat.

Greg Bradley is still alive and is in his late 70's in Ashland, Virginia. His children are all older than my children so they are in their 40's. I was the ring bearer at Greg's marriage to Libby. I was 5 or 6.

(I went out to smoke a cigarette while pondering the people and the porch in that black and white photo that was in my desk. The boards of the porch moaned as I stepped on them because it is nearly 0 degrees Fahrenheit. That cold. Almost too cold to smoke. If I lived in International Falls, Minnesota, I'd probably stop smoking.)

Billy and his wife Lorraine loved in Point Pleasant and their adopted son was older than me by quite a bit. In the photo Billy is an adolescent and my father looks very young. Maybe this photo was taken before WW II or shortly after.

On a porch so high and steep I don't remember it, and I would if I'd ever seen it. But this photo is years before I was born. Greg is maybe 5 or 6 in it.

A photo my Aunt Ursa undoubtedly sent me some time, though she is my second cousin and not my 'aunt'. I think I've addressed the loose and chaotic naming of relatives on my father's side of the family earlier.

Everyone in this photo is dead, except Greg. Yet there they are on a porch I don't know, smiling at the camera. Pat is on my father's knees. Mack Hall, the youngest in the photo sits on the steps to his left. Billy is above him on a step and Greg is below where my father sits.

People I know, so, so long ago. With stories I don't know.

My father, long from being my father, surrounded by boys.

On steps to a porch I can't recognize.

What an odd thing to find in my desk drawer. I don't remember putting it there. But I will ponder it well. I truly will. Trust me on this....