"Sonata on Independence"

Today is the 25th anniversary of the day Lithuanians voted to secede from the Soviet Union.

Cake, in Three Takes

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Suburban Chicago, Spring 1973. My Toronto Cousin and I share a Pepperidge Farm walnut layer cake. There was a period when we used to pick up one of those frozen cakes. We recently looked for that cake, but it apparently has been discontinued.

This photo set shows how pink our kitchen was. Behind us is the dishwasher and the Roper wall oven. My paternal Grandmother, Tatjana, is washing dishes; the dish rack holds a plastic tumbler from the Jewel Food Store.

I'm wearing a turquoise ring my Parents bought when we first vacationed in Glacier. On my left hand is a minuscule ruby ring that belonged to my maternal Grandmother, Jadzė. I also wear the dainty watch I selected in Switzerland. There's instant coffee and a copy of "Draugas" on the table.

(Neither my Toronto Cousin [ever] nor I [in 1973] smoked; that looks like Dad's ashtray. Do you remember crafting ashtrays and trivets with those little tiles? Who supervised you when you spread the grout?)

Ah! The checkered dish towel is still in use.

SS Eastland Disaster

Today is the 100th anniversary of the disaster. At the time, the Lithuanian newspaper, "Draugas," "speculated that there were few Lithuanian casualties, because 'Lithuanians always run late' and many did not make it to the ship on time."

Neither Mr. Irene nor I learned about this incident until recently.

Related by Marriage: Thanks for the Big Bear

Los Angeles, California, about 1960. Mr. Irene's Los Angeles Cousin enjoys her new bear. (There's a copy of "Draugas" on the end of the couch.)

"Draugas" goes online.

The Lithuanian newspaper, "Draugas"—in print since 1909—today launched its online, English-language edition.

Sunday Paper: Lithuanian-Language Edition

Door County, Wisconsin, July 1979. My friend Kris's maternal Grandfather, her Dad Vytenis, and one of the Heidis enjoy the lake view. Kris's Grandfather—in his eighties here—holds a copy of the Lithuanian-American newspaper, "Draugas." 

Related by Marriage: Missing the comforts of home.

Camp Irwin, Barstow, California, 1952. Mr. Irene's Dad relaxes on his bunk in the U.S. Army barracks. The stack of Lithuanian newspapers still rests on the shelf.

Related by Marriage: The Barracks

Mr. Irene's Dad sent this photo to his brother, Ignas. The snapshot shows Mr. Irene's Dad on his bunk at the army base.

Camp Irwin, Barstow, California, March 22, 1952. Mr. Irene's Dad wrote, "Brother—I am sitting on my bed, reading the newspaper."

Mr. Irene's Dad enjoys a smoke as he reads the Chicago-based Lithuanian newspaper, "Draugas." Mr. Irene's Dad probably has returned to his corner in the barracks after another work day teaching people how to drive tanks.

I don't know who the woman is in the forget-me-not portrait, but Mr. Irene's Dad has displayed that formal portrait of himself on the shelf. There's a stack of "Draugas" newspapers on the shelf; Mr. Irene's Dad also has tucked a carton of Lucky Strikes under the newspapers.

Thanks to Mr. Irene's Los Angeles Cousin for making this photograph available to us.

Take off your shoes and enjoy a good book.

My paternal Grandmother, Tatjana, and I sit down in the living room to read. Tatjana is reading a library book. Tatjana reads English easily; her favorite books were Robert K. Massie's 1967 biography, Nicholas and Alexandra, and Boris Pasternak's Doctor Zhivago. I can't tell what she is reading here.

I, too, am reading a library book. I don't look any more thrilled with the activity than I did in the past. I'm looking through another girlie book about horses. This book is about harness racing. That’s appropriate because our home was a few blocks away from Maywood Park Race Track. On summer nights, I could hear the announcer calling the races through the open window of my bedroom.

We sit in the corner of the living room, near the bay window. This was Tatjana's favorite spot. She's wearing, as she often did, a housecoat. She's taken off her glasses, and they rest on the coffee table. There's a plate with a knife on the table; Tatjana probably just finished eating a piece of fruit. There's also a copy of the Lithuanian-language daily newspaper, Draugas ("Friend"). Draugas didn't arrive "daily;" usually, it ran a bit late, and we'd get several editions in the Saturday afternoon mail.

The chairs are covered with throws so that our daily use wouldn't dirty the upholstery. There's also a throw rug under our feet. I suppose Tatjana and Mom thought that would diminish wear-and-tear on the new wall-to-wall carpeting; they probably didn't realize that the backing of the throw rug itself caused more harm than our feet.

Suburban Chicago, Winter 1967. The swish glass ashtray is a piece my Parents bought during our vacation that previous summer in Colorado.