I became conscious while walking through LAX airport holding my moms hand as we approached a strange smiling man with an afro and handle bar mustache (turns out it was my father)
I became conscious while walking through LAX airport holding my moms hand as we approached a strange smiling man with an afro and handle bar mustache (turns out it was my father)
My OHs mum had a conversation with her mum in a butcher at roughly the same age. Must have been interesting to say this would have been about 1953 in northern England…in a pit village. I wouldn’t call it particularly progressive now.