STRANGERS IN THE BOX

Come, look with me inside this drawer,
In this box I've often seen,
At the pictures, black and white,
Faces proud, still, serene.
I wish I knew the people,
These strangers in the box,
Their names and all their memories
Are lost among my socks.
I wonder what their lives were like,
How did they spend their days?
What about their special times?
I'll never know their ways.
If only someone had taken time
To tell who, what, where, or when,
These faces of my heritage
Would come to life again.
Could this become the fate
Of the pictures we take today?
The faces and the memories
Someday to be passed away?
Make time to save your stories,
Seize the opportunity when it knocks,
Or someday you and yours could be
The strangers in the box.

~author: Pam Harazim~

On 6/25/2001 I received this E-mail
It has come to my attention that a
poem that I wrote in 1997
(Strangers in the Box)
is on many sites on the web,
including yours. Please give
me credit when using the poem.
Thanks, Pam Harazim

Can you help with some of my
Strangers in the box?
Many of the photos I have come from Nonnie's photo album.
This album originally belonged to Margaret Alley
my great-great grandmother.
Margaret married Reuben Hicks and many of the photos are from the 1800s.
I also believe that many of them are from the Alley side of the family.
View my strangers in the box