Sepia Saturday 203 Doorways and beyond

Every doorway, every intersection has a story. 
Katherine Dunn 

While looking for doorway photos for this week's prompt, I found  two in my  file of mystery  people ... Their identities were likely well known to my relatives who kept the photos, but here in 2013 as the surviving person, I have not a clue.  This first iconic photo taken as so many with someone out the door and very close to the step of the porch.  But another person is  standing in the doorway.  This was with photos from my late Aunt Marge and among hers from 1941-42 in Cleveland, Ohio.  She was better than most at identifying the people in her photos but not here.  It might be in early fall or spring, the woman has a coat over her shoulders and open toe shoes, purse along side, ready to  come or just returning.  A story waiting to be told.  Aunt Marge lived in Cleveland when she was a young single hair dresser before marrying Uncle Carl and some of the time when he was away in the Army during World War II.   

The second photo is from Pennsylvania and while not in the doorway, behind her ,the lady is on the porch. This was in my late Aunt Virginia's collections..It could be my grandmother's sister, Mary who lived across the river from us in a house with a big porch. I've written before about Sunday's with my Great Aunt Mary and the Janosky clan.    The back of the photo has labeling which  identifies it as a "Kodacolor Print, Week Ending May 26, 1956."  Whoever she is, she means business and might be  just leaving  for church;  my grandmother and her sisters usually display that down to business look in their photos.   She has likely just come out the door, dressed in hat and coat, while the photo is fading the hat and coat were a pink shade.  While Aunt Mary might have splurged on a new spring coat, I cannot imagine it would have been any color but a basic serviceable dark, color, navy perhaps, but pink?  

Finally another photo that is more meaningful to me today with both Mom and our son, Steve gone.  Not a doorway, which they have passed through but still posed in front.  Taken in July, 1972 in Pennsylvania at my old home; Steve and I  were there for a visit from California, it was for my 10th high school reunion.  Steve is on the front steps and Mom, grandma, is behind on the edge of the porch. Her hands are on her hips while Steve has hung his thumbs inside his pockets.  It is pre-digital photo ability and not close enough for good detail, that we could get today.  I am also surprised that this was developed in black and white, but it was with Mom's things and likely taken by Barney, her 3rd husband.  They have both just come out the door; we hardly ever used the front door to that house where I grew up, we came in from the side or back doors only.  The front door opened into the living room and we would not have thought of entering there, that was for company.  By the way, relatives also came to the side or back doors, so it had to be someone special to come to the front door.  But after I left home, and would return to visit,  Mom allowed use of the front door.  Still, I would revert to the side door mostly, it's what I was used to, an old habit.  This is one of the few photos I have of the old home which is still standing but is owned by a nephew with whom I have no contact.  He has changed the house color and I know not what else, because after Mom passed in 2004 and Jerry  and I stayed there for the funeral,  I have never again been inside the house. 

From doorways and unknowns to dear departed loved ones, this has been a Sepia Saturday post.  To see what others in our international community are sharing this week, use this link

http://sepiasaturday.blogspot.com/2013/11/sepia-saturday-203-16-november-2013.html

May Travels food, and WTH Post 2 of ????

After I departed to California from Pennsylvania in the 60"s as a young gal,  with stars in my eyes, on the wrong path impulsive first marriage that would come to naught,  I still knew for sure that  I would never again live in my home state.  That's become a complicated term to me, "home state"  where is my home state?  For example when folks ask where I'm from and tell me that I  have an accent  as happens at times in Minnesota where we reside and where they do have accents, I launch with a sigh into my history, "I'm from California and grew up in Pennsylvania.but now we live in Minnesota."   Being Minnesotans who never ventured  farther than Wisconsin, they silently roll their eyes and confirm, "oh a Californian."  Truthfully I  lived in California far longer (40+ years) than I did in Pennsylvania and now we reside in Minnesota, Jerry's home state, adding to the number of years I have been gone from home.  Because no matter that my primary relatives all now reside securely in cemeteries, Pennsylvania is still home. But I know I will never live here. 
 Home is always home and as Robert Frost told us, it's the place where when we go there they have to take us in.  Hmm,  maybe not so, except  that yes, my childhood friends in Pennsylvania still do take me in and welcome both of us.  And that makes coming home, home after all. 
Like my estate attorney and old school pal who just educated me in the appropriate purchase of Chianti wine.  I  gave up Chianti years back because I did not like the taste, but Richard patiently explained  to me that there has been a bastardization of true Italian Chianti and to get it right I must limit my purchase to  Chianti Classico.  The Italian government,  fed up with the inferior  variations, and semblances of Chianti established standards and so today real imported Chianti is the Classico.  And you know what, Richard was right and  so we have enjoyed excellent Chianti with the traditional , real Italian food I get only when I come home to Pennsylvania--Chianti, is the wine to accompany pasta's, the Italian sauces, provolone, Wedding Soup; it's the wine one almost eats not drinks.  Shades of  old Mr. Luigi DeSanto,  across the street who made his own wine---red, aka Dago Red.  And as always coming homes means getting authentic food--Polish, Italian, bakeries of pastries and breads galore, real provolone, real salami, real pepperoni,,,,,and even great steak houses.  Good food, and extra  work outs mandatory. People here like to eat and all restaurants are filled every day and night, every day not just weekends.  I don't think anyone cooks around here, families, etc. everyone is eating out--and yet they will complain about the economy--go figure.  My friends and I cannot understand this but we are the older generation now you know.
But enough of the food, we had an experience that confirms why I will never live in the rip off-aholic state of Pennsylvania, although it is not near the level of California, it has some annoying practices instituted to part the fool and his money  or to absolutely affirm, buyer beware.  Pennsylvania has toll roads as do many eastern states, not such a bad thing  because the users of the roads pay the  price, however many who live here assert they have more than paid for the highways, over all these years of toll collections.  To this lament, I think, wise up and "kwitcher bitchin" know that once a fee aka tax is enacted it never  goes away--just like government programs it takes on a life of its own, it is perpetual.  Well, there is something known as an I-Pass in Illinois and in  Pennsylvania, an E-ZPass and I don't know what the term is in other states.  We often have considered  buying one which  means placing money in an account, on deposit, which is withdrawn electronically to get through the toll booths more quickly without having to wait in cash lines and face the  toll takers. The device and account can be used on toll roads in 14 states.   Well, we think about it when we are on toll roads and then once home forget about it until the next trip. There is a way to prepay  this online, but we are ready to   depart it is too late because one needs the gadget to display on the windshield  for electronic  scanning,  But  not to worry, we are in my home state where they are ever anxious to part the contents of purse ($) from the person and in my home state they sell these EZ Passes at certain super stores like Giant Eagle, here in New Kensington. So yesterday, Jerry stopped at Giant Eagle, gave them $43.99 and triumphantly became the owner of an EZPass Device.  This will enable us to whiz along the toll road on our next leg of this journey to Gettysburg.

 Here is a lin http://www.paturnpike.com/ezpass/ezpassINTRO.htm

All smug until later, we read the tiny small print which stipulates the EZPass is only for vehicles up to 7000 pounds.  Wait a minute!  We  drive a 41 foot  motor home and tow a vehicle; we exceed that weight limit  more than thrice!  So we call the Pennsylvania Department of Turnpike and in no time do reach a real live person in Harrisburg, not some East Indian in Mumbai!  Aha, Pennsylvania employment at work.  Jerry reports our dilemma to which the  response is "well they should have told you that when they sold it to you.  You need a commerical EZPass."  Jerry explains we are not commercial.  but alas that is no one's problem but our own. So what can be done, not so fast, there Bunky. The device must be activated before it can be used.  Jerry explains we cannot use it because we are driving a motor home and exceed the weight limit.  "Oh right, then you need a commercial EZ Pass" comments the rep who goes on to explain we must activate it regardless, on line and then we can mail it back and get some of our $$ refunded. That's right, some of the $$.    By this time, generally patient calm Jerry has  lost all patience and  hung up feeling he has encountered Abbott and Costello's rendition of "Who's on First?"  But I remind him it's my home state--it's Groundhog Day for sure.  Well not to worry, I figure we have not even opened the sealed plastic container so we will just take this thing right back to Giant Eagle tomorrow, which is today now.  We have not used it and surely they can just refund the $43.99.   Wrong, they cannot do that and tell Jerry they will call the Pennsylvania Turnpike Commission for him---now he knows it's Groundhog Day stuck on the record and reel.  Same story, different day, and no way is Giant Eagle taking this EZ Pass back.  So we are stuck with sending it to Harrisburg, which we will pass on our way to Gettysburg; furthermore we are advised to send it registered mail at a higher cost to ourselves for proof of mailing and my home state will sometime when it is convenient for them or when the Groundhog sees his shadow refund a portion of the $43.99, etc. Yes that is right, this is Pennsylvania, the Commonwealth where I know for sure I will never be living.  Big rip off and another way to part the contents of the purse from the person.   Why don"t they publicize this EZ Pass is not for motor homes who must roll with the big rigs and purchase commercial EZ's. Likely they think we are out here earning big bucks in our rigs?