The boyfriend and I are back from Charlottesville after an uneventful drive back - the Interstate between Richmond and Williamsburg was nasty - and I feel much better having visited my mother (pictured at left around 1950) who seems mentally pretty sharp and able to get around her home using a cane. It is very hard to se one's parents fading from their former selves. It happens to all of us, but it is not easy nonetheless.*
While visiting I got copies of some old photos from my mother's first home town - Puerto Castilla, Honduras. Today, the town is a container port and other than the hospital building nothing remains of the 1920-1930's town shown in the pictures below. I am working with a writer in Central America currently who is writing a story on the good things done by United Fruit Company which is often looked badly upon for its political role in Central America, much of which occurred after my mother's family left Central America prior to World War II. My grandfather was a surgeon and hospital administrator for UFC and worked to bring need medical care to the locales where he worked. I hope readers enjoy the photos.
My grandmother and my oldest aunt..jpg)
Puerto Castilla, Honduras Hospital at right and school in upper left.
My mother's first home.
My grandfather at left sailing.
My grandfather - WWI based on the uniform 
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