The story of The Townfolk is best left to another post, when I can decide whether I want to tell the story through the funny filters of my childhood memory or whether I want to talk to my parents for actual information. It's a hard call.
But I got to thinking about those shirts and I had some vague memories of there being publicity photos of the group, so I asked my father if he could find some and scan them in. "YOU ASKED FOR IT!" he titled his reply, which set me back thinking to those cozy evenings listening to the radio during World War II until I remembered that I wasn't yet born at the time (but clearly I was born with an archetypal memory of the announcer's voice for that show running through my head).
I have two photos, and they're not quite what I remembered but they'll do and in fact in each of these photos my father is wearing a shirt that later became mine. The photos, unfortunately, are black and white because they were publicity stills for newspapers.
This is my mother, my father, and Loell (left to right) in what seems to be their take on the Meet the Beatles cover shot. It's hard to discern, but my father's shirt is a sixties paisley shirt. What I hadn't remembered was the tie. The photo is probably from around 1968, which is the date on the newspaper clippings my father scanned along with it:
In the second photo my mother is playing a washtub bass and wearing an outfit I do not recall at all. My father is wearing a nehru shirt. I loved that shirt when it became my own six or seven years later. It was a wonderful smooth cotton. The boy in the picture is unrelated to me -- he's a random clogging man volunteer. (Click on the photo to expand it...)
It was a normal childhood, right? Right?