I'm pretty sure this is the only record of anyone, on any branch of my family tree, ever having had any kind of athletic prowess.
The guy third from the right on the front row, sitting on the ground and looking off to the side (as if he's gearing up for his next opponent) is my mother's father, Harry Toothman.
This is a picture postcard that was pasted into a scrapbook about his life that my grandmother put together after he died in 1966.
I was less than a year old at the time, so I never knew him, though my older siblings tell me he was the perfect grandfather: he read to them, took them fishing, and famously assured my then-eight-year-old sister "We won't tell your grandmother about this" when the pineapple upside-down cake they were transporting to a church bake sale slid off my sister's lap and onto the floor of the car.
I'll be writing more about him and about the material in this scrapbook in the weeks to come (fair warning to those of you who are sick of these family-history type posts). But I've been amazed at how much stuff from the scrapbook resonates with me, on many levels.
Morris Harvey College later became the University of Charleston (WV).