KEN GAGNE

PHOTO GALLERY

If you’ve read my memoir, You’re Gonna Miss Me Someday, the images here complete the story. If you haven’t, the photos and captions provide a glimpse. Thank you for taking this journey with me.

Graphic map showing southern New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, and Connecticut. Chicopee is labeled and marked with a star. — There’s a certain pride that comes with being from Western Massachusetts. That’s why, no matter where life takes me, Chicopee will always be “home.”

Map showing Western Massachusetts with Connecticut River running through Holyoke, Chicopee, and Springfield — The Connecticut River, which originates in Maine and flows down through Massachusetts, created mill jobs that drew countless immigrant families—like the Gagnes and Coltharts—to the area. My boyhood home in Chicopee was (according to this map) directly below the “e” in Holyoke.

Historical black and white photo of a family of 11, with front row seated and back row of 4 standing. — My paternal great-grandparents, Aristide and Anna Gagne, had many mouths to feed but needed everyone’s help on the family farm in South Hadley. Their eldest son, my Pepe Rheo (standing in back), exemplified their French-Canadian work ethic by also toiling in the Holyoke mills.

Historical black and white photo of a couple standing in front of a barn. — Aristide and Anna both left Quebec with their families when they were kids. Their new life together in Massachusetts wasn’t easy, and they endured their share of hardships, but they stuck by Anna’s saying: “Things could always be worse.”

Historical photo of a family of 6, formally dressed. — My maternal great-grandparents, Thomas and Elizabeth Colthart, emigrated from Scotland to Whitinsville, MA, with their children when my grandfather (Thomas Jr., third from left) was nine years old. From what I heard, the Colthart clan was strict and serious.

Historical black and white photo of a couple seated side by side, smiling and dressed formally. — When he finished high school, Thomas Jr. (who we called “Pop-Pop”) left Whitinsville behind and moved to Fall River, MA, where he found work in the textile mills and, in 1928, married my grandmother, Fran McMellon.

Historical black and white photo of a father and his 4 children. Smallest child is seated on father's lap. — I wish I’d known my Pepe Rheo, but he died long before I was born. Legend has it he was a big personality with a generous heart. No wonder my dad admired him. The Gagne kids in this picture (from left): Rheo Jr., Constance, Jacqueline, and my father, Robert.

Historical black and white photo of a family of five, standing and smiling, in informal warm-weather clothes. — I don’t think my dad (right) ever stopped trying to measure up to his father or trying to please his mother, my Memere Annette. This photo says it all.

Historical black and white photo of four girls in standing together in white summer dresses. — My mother, Cynthia, and her family moved to Holyoke when she was six. Here she is with her sisters. Mom’s standing behind Elaine on the left. Next to them, Jane has her hands on Gail’s shoulders.

Black and white photo of family of 10, dressed formally. Front row is seated and back row is standing. — Mom had a strong relationship with her parents. In this portrait, she’s in front of her father and next to her mother. The whole family (clockwise, from back left): Thomas Jr., Thomas Sr., Donald, Glenn, Alan, Elaine, Gail, Cynthia, Fran, and Jane. Missing from the photo is baby sister Heather, who hadn’t been born yet.

A man standing and smiling with his hands on his hips next to three bicycles. — Rheo Sr. was an ambitious and hardworking entrepreneur who, until the early 50s, operated Gagne & Sons with my dad and uncle.

Black and white photograph of a historic-looking gas station that says R. Gagne Auto Supply Battery Service — The auto service business my grandfather started in 1923 supported three generations of Gagnes for nearly seventy years. It was a cornerstone of the Willimansett section of Chicopee, known then as “Little Quebec.”

Black and white photo of two smiling men in Gulf gas station uniforms. — After Pepe died, my Uncle Rheo (right) became president of the company. Dad took over when his brother retired and, as sole owner, ran the business with the same qualities his father had: honesty, generosity, and wit.

A black and white photo of a man in an army uniform. — During his stint in the army, Bob Gagne was a radioman stationed in France. This was years before he met my mom. The only story he told me of those days was about a mysterious French girl named Josiane LePettite.

Black and white photo of a smiling woman. — Before she met my dad, Cindy Colthart was a coveted bachelorette living with her parents and clerking at a printing press company in Holyoke. I still have hundreds of love letters she saved from men hoping to be her “Mr. Right.”

Black and white photo of a smiling bride and groom walking down the aisle. — Mom and Dad tied the knot in Holyoke in 1961. At the time, some French-Canadian Catholics—like my father’s family—considered it sacrilegious to marry a Protestant.

Black and white photo of a bride and a groom kissing. — The controversy caused by their wedding didn’t bother my dad. He always followed his heart and never let anyone tell him what to do (or when to smoke).

Black and white photo of a formally dressed couple standing next to a car with the door open. — Here’s the happy couple headed to the airport for their honeymoon in Miami, back when people dressed up to get on a plane.

Black and white photos of two babies, dressed identically, awake in a crib. — When the twins, Robert and David, were born in ’62, everything was perfect— for a while. After a few months, my mother sensed something was wrong.

Color photo of a red brick building with a white-columned front entrance. — My parents never told me about their decision to send my brothers to live at the state-run Monson Developmental Center in Palmer, MA. It’s one of many stories they held inside.

A color photo of a woman smiling and cuddling twin babies on her lap. — My mother seemed satisfied with the care her sons received at Monson. Here’s a nurse with the twins during one of Mom’s monthly visits.

A color photo of an abandoned red brick building, windows gone and overgrown with foliage. — After the developmental center closed in 2012, the abandoned grounds became fodder for paranormal theorists and ghost hunters.

Two young girls with short haircuts and jeans hold up their baby brother by his extended arms — My sisters, Cheryl (left) and Linda, took care of me from the beginning, and we’ve been close since. We never talked about it, but we knew we were Mom and Dad’s second chance at a “normal” family.

Color photo of a dog with a orange and white striped kit hat, gloves, and sweater draped on her back. — I wasn’t the only one my sisters mothered. They always made sure Bambi was prepared for Chicopee’s frigid winter nights.

Black and white photo of family of five, dressed formally and smiling. — This is my favorite photo of our family. As far as I could tell, we were a happy bunch back then. This was a couple of years before I met Robert and David for the first time.

Color photo of a long ranch house with yellow siding, red brick below on the left, two entrances with short stairs and a garage. — If asked, my childhood home in Chicopee could tell lots of stories about my family. As much as anything else, this house and that city helped form my identity.

Color photograph of the back of a house with yellow siding on the top and white beneath. — In the back of our house, the living room picture window provided a panoramic view. Here, my small bedroom window is to the right of the living room. My parents’ room is next to mine on the end.

Color photo of a low, misty mountain in the background, trees in the midground, and a body of water in the foreground. — Beyond the hills and fields in our backyard, we could see the Connecticut River and Mount Tom.

Color photo of a family of 4 — Of us kids, Linda (left) was the cheeriest, while Cheryl and I shared a birthday and a similar distaste for attention. Though Dad was proud of my sisters and me, it was sometimes hard to see through his tough-guy facade.

color photo of a smiling family of five — Mom and Dad wore brave smiles in the early ’80s, but that was a rough period for them. An impending personal financial crisis and the trauma caused by David’s death put a strain on their marriage.

Black and white photo of two young men in basketball uniforms holding basketballs. — Craig Patla and I became friends in kindergarten. I always looked up to him (literally and figuratively). Here we are in 1985 as captains of our varsity basketball team.

A caricature drawing of three men dressed in 80s hip hop style, each wearing a different hat but all in sunglasses. — One of my prized possessions is this caricature I drew of The Vicious III, the rap group I formed in high school with Mark Nadeau (left) and Mike Kijak (center). Those two guys have always been like brothers to me.

Color photo of a couple smiling on a beach. — When I look at this photo, I’m grateful my parents stuck together. Like all couples, they went through some tough times, but I like to think they were (mostly) happy.

Black and white photo of a couple smiling and dressed formally — Here are my parents on my wedding day in 1998. It’s one of the last pictures I have of them before Mom got sick.

Color photo of two smiling older women wearing cardigans — Both my grandmothers lived into their nineties, but that’s where the similarities ended. My father’s mom, my Memere (left), loved her vodka and her gossip. My mother’s mom, my Nana, didn’t drink and never said a bad word about anyone.

A bride and groom smiling and slow-dancing — My mother and father were overjoyed when Jackie and I got married. They loved her and knew we’d make a great team. As Stevie Wonder’s “Ribbon in the Sky” played during our first dance, I felt an overwhelming sense of contentment.

color photo of two young kids smiling in bathing suits — Our kids, Caleb and Lucy, were young when my parents died. Still, I’ve always seen in them the spirit Mom and Dad left behind.

Color photo of a smiling family, dressed formally. — My father used to say, “Your wealth is your family.” To this day, I couldn’t agree more.

Black and white photo portrait of a young boy in wire-rimmed glasses — I think my dad was always the kind and caring little boy we see here. Despite his faults and failures as a man, I believe he kept that kid’s heart beating till the end…

Color photo of a smiling young blond boy wearing a patterned shirt and purple tie — …and it still beats in me because, no matter how different I am from him as a husband and father, deep down we were both just two little boys who wanted to be good sons.