by Sharon Feder
In the late 1800’s, my great-grandparents, Harry and Mary Aarons, came to Denver from New York city. What motivated them to leave their community back East for a future in young Denver is unknowable… just as their destiny would have been in that tumultuous time.
I tried very hard to learn they had traveled part way by “prairie schooner”, but the truth has them arriving in Denver by train with their baby girl. They would breed many baby girls, and a few sons. Some would survive, others died – in childbirth, infancy, young adulthood.
Most of the truth about these people, I will never know. I can imagine, though, their lives and love in the brand new Twentieth Century, as I imagine my own future in the brand new Twenty-First Century.
Train tracks stretch from Denver to New York, from 1909 to 2009. Life lines. Mysteries. Possibilities.I cannot read the gallery's xml file: /home/12842/domains/buckfifty.org/html/images/trains/gallery.xml
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Paintings from the River North series by Sharon Feder. See more work of Sharon’s at her website, sfeder.com.
Hi there. My name is Mary Aarons and I live in MA. A google alert I’ve got set for my own name sent me to your blog. I’m curious to know more about your grandparents Harry and Mary Aarons. I’ve spent much of the last two years learning about my Aarons relatives…mostly from Vilna/Vilnius Lithuania…came to NYC’s Lower East Side.
My great grandfather was Chaim Aaronowicz (not exactly sure of spelling.) His wife was Ester/Ester.
SHARON I THINK THE AARONS CAME IN 1895 OR BEFORE, AUNT MARG IS BURRIED IN COMMERACE CITY IN 1895 AS I RECALL.
We moved from California to Colorado in 1959. Dad drove my sisters cross country, and Mom took me (then almost three years old) on the Zephyr. A memorable ride. I got to go up to the observation dome car one time, then we had to go away “so someone else could enjoy it.” At that age, the most impressive thing was the toilet — you push a lever on the floor with your foot, and a vortex opens up and everything’s gone! Right out the bottom of the train! Years later, I convinced myself I’d imagined that part, and still later, I found that no, I’d been right all along. Right on the tracks. I have a brief mental image of the train station when we got in, then we were off to our new life in Fort Collins.