Helen Clarke, born in 1891, was my mother’s mother:
I never met my maternal grandmother, or even heard that much about her.
(My mother had a strained relationship with her.)
I can tell you that she graduated from the University of Illinois, at a time when that was uncommon for women. She then worked as a school teacher.
Helen had rheumatoid arthritis, which made it impossible for her to take the required swimming test. U of I wasn’t going to let her matriculate, but somehow she forced them to back down. (My mother was proud of that part of her story.)
Helen died in 1955, the year before I was born, so I never knew what she looked like, and I never even saw her picture.
Until last year.
I was going through some old boxes, left behind in my mother’s apartment after she died in 1998…when I found this old portrait photo. Where was it taken? Was it a booth at the county fair? Or, perhaps an excursion to Chicago? I’ll never know.
But now I feel very connected to her.