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In 1955, Mom began dating Alan Maury Razovsky — a second-generation immigrant Lithuanian Jew, born 1914 in St. Louis MO, more recently from Dallas, Texas, an electrical engineer at TVA where Mom worked.
** Flashback ** There were twelve Jews at UTexas Austin in 1935, where AMR got his engineering degree.
One of them ended up working in the New York City financial district — World Bank, or maybe Agency for International Development.
Continue reading “Camera Familia — Chapter 2”
Signalman Benjamin Franklin Dyer, United States Navy, the South Pacific, circa 1944.
I have Frank Dyer’s semaphore flag, his father’s shotgun, a war trophy Japanese rifle, an engineering handbook printed in 1934.
But I never knew my natural father. He died in July 1950 when I was five months old, heart stopped by a stray current traveling between an electric stove and a washing machine, in our kitchen on Mountain View Circle in Flintstone Georgia, far from the battlefield.
Continue reading “Camera Familia — Chapter 1”
Life in the Philippines. World travel. Mid-century. For context, see my essays, starting with https://johndyerwrites.com/2022/08/19/one-to-nine-1-john-dyer-writes/
Dad passed away in 1999, so there's no indexing this. Please comment if you recognize people or places.
For context, see my essays about the expat life, starting with https://johndyerwrites.com/2022/08/19/one-to-nine-1-john-dyer-writes/
For context, see my essays about the expat life, starting with https://johndyerwrites.com/2022/08/19/one-to-nine-1-john-dyer-writes/
Atlanta, Georgia. December, 1955. Mom and Dad, shortly before we traveled to the Philippines. There’s debate within the family as to exactly when and where this photo was taken. The consensus was ‘Honeymoon. Atlanta.’ Don’t ask me. I was five.
What I do recall is Dad taking us for a ride through Chattanooga in his 1955 Buick Super. I almost fell out the rear passenger door while playing with the handle. That’s the kind of stuff kids remember.
I’m writing novels these days. Find me here.
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Manila, Philippines. Circa 1957. A year before this photo was taken, my mother was raising two sons by herself — and I used to say if it wasn’t for Alan Maury Razovsky, I would have ended up pumping gas in Chattanooga for a living.
It’s not true. Mom was intelligent, resourceful and classy. Her brothers were successful building contractors. I might have made a career at Uncle Gib’s masonry company, and that would have been fine.
But in 1955, Alan Razovsky returned from NYC to tell Mom, “We have to get married. I’m taking you and the boys to the Philippines.”
The kindest, sweetest man I ever knew passed away in 1999 at the age of eighty-five. I still miss him.
I’m writing novels these days. Look for me on Amazon here.
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Manila, Philippines. Circa 1958. That’s my brother’s pal Jack Russell (Yep. That’s his name.) reading the magazine. I have no idea who the girl was. I don’t remember being that cool, but there it is.
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Manila, Philippines. Circa 1957. My mother’s birthday. Left to right — My sister Carolyn, me, Mom, my brother Mike.
At our first house in San Lorenzo Village. My brother was good-looking. Mom used to say I was good-natured.
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