It’s National Hat Day, had you heard? Feels like a good excuse to pull together photos of family members and their fancy chapeaux from over the past 100 years.
This first picture is of my great-grandfather Patrick Cassidy. He was a police officer, first in Belfast and then in New Haven, Connecticut. This photo is from around 1915.
Mom’s paternal grandfather, Patrick R. Cassidy.
Here’s one of Patrick’s sons, Christy, looking snazzy:
Mom’s uncle Christy Cassidy, circa 1940.
Another of Patrick’s four sons, Frank, was also a policeman. And my grandpa.
New Haven Police Officer Frank Cassidy, 1952.
Hopping across the family tree to Dad’s side, here’s a photo of his dapper dad:
Harold E. Vayo, Sr. in an undated photo. Early 1920s perhaps?
That’s Grandma on the left, with her diminutive matron of honor, Mrs. Haag, on Thanksgiving Day, 1926.
Decades later, the family celebrated with their middle child, Janet, as she became a nurse.
Janet’s “Capping Day” in March of 1953. Younger siblings Barbara and Paul stand next to her. Dad was serving in Korea at the time. Older sister Jean was there that day, so I’m guessing she took this photo.
Growing up in the 1930s and ’40s, Dad wore a variety of hats.
Alright, so this hat was probably a loaner. Dad was just about to turn one year old in this May 1931 photo.
Bundled up to play during a March snowfall in 1932. Dad’s family lived in Utica, New York, those early years.
Father, dear … you look like a mobster! Hal Capone?
This could well be from the same day. Circa 1942, in Boston, Massachusetts. Grandpa took Dad to a Red Sox game on the 4th of July, but they were sold out. So they visited the Boston Commons instead.
Take me out to the ballgame!
During Mom’s childhood years, she occasionally wore bows in her pretty red hair.
Mom was just three in this photo.Ringlets and a bow.
Mom’s holding her baby brother, Ray, in this 1938 photo. Can you see that huge bow in her hair? Bunny’s got those ringlets, too, but was spared the gigantic bow.
This next photo includes both families.
Those are my two grandmothers (in hats) in the back row.
Looks like a First Communion celebration! Back row left is Dad’s sister Janet. Then Mom, and Dad’s sister Jean. Grandma Vayo, Grandma Cassidy, then Bunny. Front row, Cousin Betsy, Barbara Vayo (Dad’s youngest sister); the boys are Paul Vayo and Ray Cassidy. Photo circa 1944.
Let’s move on to the next generation’s hats.
First-born Harry gets the jauntily-angled-hat treatment:
Dad holds his namesake in 1955 or early ’56. And yes, we all had ginormous heads. (Sorry, Mom.)
A few years later, we wear our Sunday best to church. This was back when hats were mandatory for Catholic females.
Here we are, in 1962, in Milford, Connecticut. Poor Dave hated wool slacks, which he called “itchy pants.” Mom’s got a bit of stylish netting/veil action going on. I still have that purse (thanks for saving it for me, Mom).
Mom in her big flower hat, circa 1964. My little tam-o-shanter was a bit more understated. That’s Dave next to me and Harry behind us. We lived in Pittsfield, Massachusetts, for most of the ’60s.
Fast-forward to 1978, while vacationing in Ogunquit, Maine, baby brother Billy clowns around.
Note to Bill: When you posed for this photo all those years ago, you knew it would some day come back to haunt you. That day is here!
Bill turned out okay, though. Turkey carver extraordinaire.
Bill dons a chef’s hat before carving the Thanksgiving turkey.
Brothers Bill and Dave in their Christmas hats in 1979.
And now, my children’s generation:
All three brudders enjoyed being farm boys.
In 1988, wearing an Agrigold hat and Purdue sweatshirt, little Tom loved heading to the farm with his dad.
John, in 1996, ready to be a lumberjack with Dad.
For years, Gary has longed to be Amish – and tried to convince others to “go” with him. James, age 2, thought about it for about a minute.
James, age 4, loved being a farm boy, too. His career plans? An engineer.
Finally, the next generation. Grandson Cameron in 2012.
Monster hats work well in just about any occasion.
One last photograph of Mom. Just because.
Mom in 2017. Oh, how we all miss her!
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