From Grandma's Album...
by Helen Bues (Grandma) and Anja Bartlett
 Oh, what a lovely day! I am going to a fair, my very first, the 1927 Fair of the Iron Horse, the Baltimore
and Ohio Railroad's one hundredth year of history. The fair was to be held in a big field just south of Baltimore
City. The "iron horse" was what we called the B&O R.R.'s steam engine that my daddy worked on.
Our trip down to the site fairgrounds was beautiful. The day was warm and sunny, our clothes, cleaned
and pressed Sunday-best. Mother looked lovely in her blue serge suit, Daddy handsome in his. Five-year
old brother Charles was cute as a button, his made Eton-style by Mother's talented hands, and I was in my
pink silk dress with TWO ruffles at the hem, edge-faggotted by the neighborhood Jewish Tailor – the only
handwork Mother could not do. We looked swell. And, of course, we were riding in the our brand-new Ford!
We were the cat's meow!
We arrived at the fairgrounds promptly and safely with no flats, even though we had our repair kit and
an extra inner tube and wash-up towels, cloths and soap.
But "Look! Look!"
"Look at the Parking lot!"
"Daddy, look!"
Oh, me! A whole field of shiny black "tin-lizzies," just hundreds, all alike, just like ours! Rows and
rows and rows... Oh, me, how will we be able to find ours? We were the only family for blocks around
our Baltimore neighborhood with a "machine," and here were hundreds.
My cool unperturbed dad just smiled, "You know what, Helenko? You are now seven.
Why don't you memorize our license number?"
"Of course!"
Here was a solution and memorize I did.
...All day!
Every ten minutes or so, I'd spout off. My every-patient folks didn't seem to mind.
Neither did Charles who I think was secretly going to be "backup" in case I failed.
I didn't though. Proof is the writing of this memoir.
But please don't ask me anything about the Iron Horse! That's all I remember of that wonderful day!
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