My great grandmother was born in 1840, and lived in the Parish of St. John near Swansea, Glamorganshire, Wales. When she was 16 she emigrated to the United States. I took a typed copy of her history to church with me Sunday and planned to share it with two girls and a boy, all 9 years old. It was at church and I had brought a copy of a story written about my great grandparents.

Before we even had a chance to start talking about the story the kids noticed the extra long paper and the print on the paper. They knew immediately it was different and that it had been typed with a typewriter. Each shared some thoughts about a typewriter they had seen once or somewhere. The idea of something of importance being "typed" was sort of a surprise to them. We probably spent as much time talking about typewriters as we did on the story I had brought.

I remember when I was about that age it was common for me to see my grandfather with the typewriter shown above (on the left). It always sat on a table in his living room. Papers would be scattered all around the area and it seemed he would always be in the middle of a special letter to someone.

He wrote letters to the editor of the local newspaper regularly and seemed to have a dialog going with them.

That typewriter is full of memories for me.

Brent M. Jones

Brent writes with quiet confidence and curiosity, exploring communication, reinvention, and what truly matters. His reflections invite readers to slow down, reconsider their stories, and reconnect with the values that guide them. Through books, essays, and his What Matters Substack Articles and Notes, he offers writing that doesn’t shout—but still speaks clearly.