I don’t know who took this photo. It was from my brother’s funeral.

Graig was buried at a cemetary in Pleasant Hill, IL, not far from where my father grew up. Another brother is buried at Buffalo Cemetary near Louisiana, MO, where we grew up.

It snowed heavily the day we buried Graig, a wet, heavy, slippery snow. It was beautiful.

Funerals bring closure to those who mourn the dead, so I have to admit they’re a necessity of life.

That doesn’t make them any more memorable.

When people ask about the unusual ‘McElfresh’ name, I tell them it came from Scotland (true).

Then I tell them that a few hundred years ago there were two larges clans that ruled the land. The well-known McDonald’s clan, and the McElfresh clan.

The two clans battled for over 40 years. The McDonald’s clan won the war, and the descendants of the McElfresh clan flipped hamburgers for the next 200 years.

Back in the day, Louisiana probably had a few places where a couple could dress up and go out. Or not.

Mom was all dressed up and ready to go somewhere, but I don’t know enough of Louisiana’s history to figure out where.

Today, there’s not much point in dressing up because there’s no place to go in a small and sleepy river town. Hardee’s. Subway. Piker’s Restaurant. Farm Shed. Church. That’s it.

Talk about a blast from the past. This is a photograph of Dad (another Olan Mills photo), from the late 1940s.

Look at that hair. James Dean never looked so good. Sal Mineo was never more slick or polished.

Baby blue eyes, a suit and tie, a pack of Lucky’s, and a line of girls waiting at Zook’s Nook in Louisiana.

Some things are not inherited from parents. I never looked that cool at any age.