Blasts from the Past

During last month's travels, I was able to browse through old family photos for the first time in years. I brought a few of them home with me for scanning, like this one:

Me & Brother Todd in the 1970s.

I also learned that plaid clothing was a constant presence in my childhood photos.

The highlight of the trip was a box of memorabilia from my mother that had recently been delivered to my brother in Missouri. My mother died when I was 10 years old, so it was interesting to look through the stuff. A lot of it was famiiar from my childhood, though most of the photographs were totally new to me.

I'd never seen this one before:

My mother, age 3; with Santa Claus, 1950s.

Then there were my baby pics from 1970. It's pretty funny how little I've changed since then:

1 year old Jonnie, 1970.

[Originally posted on Rebel Leady Boy, Sep. 1, 2005]

Dreaming of a Plaid Christmas

 Jonnie and Todd, the Gilliom Bros. - Christmas in the 1970s.

The Plaid Brothers

 Jonnie and Todd Gilliom: The Plaid Brothers.

“We’re on a mission from mom.”

Amish Tendencies

My family's ancestors were Anabaptists during the protestant reformation. Over time, schisms within the Anabaptist movement gave rise to groups like the Mennonites, Amish, and others. My direct line came from a later Anabaptist splinter group in Switzerland known as the Apostolics. So, I share some common ancestry with Amish folk.

Our family’s lineage can be traced back to Adam Gilliom, who emigrated from Switzerland to Indiana in the 1800s. At that time, we were Apostolic. A few generations later, my father became the first member of our family to leave the church entirely—a decision he made on his own. He’s mentioned that it was a tough time because none of his friends were no longer allowed to talk to him anymore, and he deeply missed hunting and fishing with one of his cousins.

According to my parents, when I was a little kid, I had a memorable encounter with an Amish buggy. One passed by our house, and I took off chasing after it without a word. My mom was frantic when she realized I was missing; she even called the police.

Eventually, someone reported seeing a little kid running down the road after a buggy, yelling, "Horsey! Horsey!" The police found me and brought me home. When my mom asked what I was doing, I told her with great determination that I wanted to be “an Amish” when I grew up.

[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, Feb. 20, 2004]

Jonnie the Clever Child

In 1970, I got my hand stuck in a chair and couldn't figure out how to pull it out. Instead of helping me, my parents took a picture and captioned it, “Jonnie the clever child." wtf.

Jonnie the clever child.