Don’t you just love happy endings?
A little while ago, I posted about a Toronto university student (Jenna Kelly, left) who found an envelope of family photos on the subway and was going to great lengths to reunite them with their owner.
The mystery of who left them on the subway remains unsolved, but a member of the family pictured in the photos recognized their relatives, contacted the Toronto Star (where they were printed) and now has the shots.
Here’s an excerpt from Joe Fiorito’s heartwarming story in The Toronto Star:
Photos found are Gold
When Jenna Kelly found an envelope of family photos on the subway a while ago – it seems someone forgot them, or lost them, or simply left them on one of the seats – she did everything she could to find the owner.
She has succeeded, in a way.
On the day those photos appeared in this space, I got a note from Marshall Gold. He was curious, and emphatic. The people in the photos were his family.
And so, pictures in hand, Jenna and I went to visit Marshall and his wife, E. Dee, the other day.
They live in an airy, light-filled apartment not far from the St. Clair subway station.
On the day the column appeared, Marshall said, “I got the paper in the morning. I saw one of the photos on the front. It looked like a cousin. And then, when I opened the paper, I saw the photo of my dad.”
“I almost passed out.”
E. Dee laughed throatily and said, “He couldn’t show me the pictures fast enough.” And here, I will be discreet – the way she put this was both funny and vivid – but she suggested that Marshall might not have been entirely dressed when he brought her the paper.
So, the Gold family?
They came to Canada many years ago, at a time when it was prudent for Jews to get out of Russia. They passed through London and settled here and built a life….
My favourite of the photos shows two older men holding an infant. Marshall said, “That’s my father Izzy, and my uncle. The baby is my son.”
I asked Marshall about his father, who seems, from the photos, to have been a man of depth.
“My father was a barber. He and my uncle had a shop at 282 Queen St., and then at 152 Spadina.”
E. Dee said, “His father would give you the shirt off his back.” She was not exaggerating.
Marshall said, “He often came home without his coat. He’d given it away. He knew he could always get another. Once, he came home without his shoes. My mother gave him hell. That’s the way he was. He’d go up to Baycrest hospital on Sundays and give haircuts and shaves.”
… E. Dee said to Jenna, “The return of the photos is one of the most beautiful things in our life.” And Marshall said, “There’s not many people who would do what you did.”