Grandpa Earnest J Whiting

When I was born way back in the olden days, my last grandparent had passed away the year before. I'm sure I wasn't to blame for their demise. I had never had the opportunity to have a grandparent in my life. When I married it was into a family that had lots of grandparents in a lovely family structure, it was a new experience to feel a sense of belonging in that way. Dan's grandfather Whiting was one of the original Whiting Brothers, 4 of them who had a line of service stations and a few motels throughout Arizona, New Mexico and California. Having such a thread of business achievement was impressive, like playing monopoly and winning.

There were such a multitude of facets of this remarkable man's personality and being. It would be hard to describe him in few words - impossible, in fact. He was admired and respected, love and revered by so many who had crossed paths with the character I was privileged to call Grandpa.

Grandpa Whiting was a self-made man, one who had grown up in the REALLY olden days. He was born in Utah to a normally poor family. When he was 12 years old, the family moved to Arizona to homestead in America's wilderness. His responsibility was to drive a team of horses and wagon load the distance by himself, making the treacherous descent over Lee's backbone above the Colorado River. They don't make 12 year olds like they used to.





Entertainment in those days was homemade; families made use of time worn and popular literary productions. Grandpa Whiting participated in many plays and sketches with family members, all who became fascinating characters as a result of their family time together and a rich pioneer heritage. Grandpa became a consummate story teller who drew children's attention to him like a pied piper. Collections of his stories have been kept in all of his growing posterity, each version of the "one told by Grandpa" taking on a life of its own and becoming a new creation. Yet, anyone who knew him would believe an outrageous story was one he made up as well the truth in the bigger than life stories told about him.

Having several old photos of him and family, it was fun to change the photos a bit, enhance the color and crop here and there. The first is of him at a reunion, playing the harmonica, accompanied by Uncle John's guitar. His abundant talents included singing a whole list of funny crazy folk song types in his unique, low and gravelly voice. ex: "A grasshopper sat on a sweet tater vine." (you have to imagine the gravelly voice)

The next 2 photos are 4 generations of his posterity, 1-Grandpa, 2-his daughter Beth, 3-Dan, 4-Brian and Evan. The other is of the guys, putting Austin in Beth's place. The last is of Grandpa not too long before he passed away at age 96. Looks like Dallan was trying to convince Kay this unfamiliar person is okay. Unfortunately there is less than half of Laura's face (Sorry Laura. One of these days I will learn how to photo shop in whole faces.)


What a lovely digital photo age we live in.