When I was a child, both sets of my grandparents lived in older working-class neighborhoods where all the houses had front porches. Because families usually congregated there on warm evenings, I've always thought of the front porch as a place where personal connections are deepened.

My paternal grandparents lived in Baltimore. Until I was 12, "going on vacation" meant visiting them each summer. On each visit, some time was spent on their front porch. Even now, I can see my Grandma Lauer in the porch swing, her feet touching the floor just enough to propel herself back and forth. When very young, I often sat in the swing next to her, close enough to smell the talcum powder she had sprinkled around her neck and bosom. When older, I would sit on the porch steps, often watching with amusement at the way her feet, shod in house slippers, barely touched the floor.

I can't recall specific early childhood conversations with Grandma. Still, we must have talked quite a bit because when older, I always enjoyed spending time with her asking her questions about her life when she was younger.

Like Grandpop Lauer, she was a child of Germans who immigrated to America in the 1870s and 1880s. Thanks to 1960s World War II-themed TV shows in which Germans were always the enemies, as a child, I thought of my grandparents' close connection to Germany as somewhat exotic. American by birth, they grew up speaking both English and German. Attending German-speaking churches when young, their baptismal and marriage certificates were in German. My grandfather's birthname was Fredrik Balthazar Lauer, but at some point in adulthood, he began going by Frederick Baldwin Lauer. I assume he "Americanized" his name during the First World War when Americans with German-sounding names or, worse, German accents were viewed with suspicion, if not hostility.

This World War I reference brings me to what I found most fascinating about my paternal grandparents: their age. Grandpop was born in 1888 and Grandma in 1889, which meant I had personal connections to the 19th century. I remember Grandpop sharing boyhood memories of sitting by the front window of his family's Baltimore rowhouse watching the lamplighter come down the sidewalk each evening to light the gas street lamps. I remember Grandma telling me that when she was a little girl, everyone smelled bad because they only bathed once a week.

My grandparents lived through the advent of electric street lights, record players, automobiles, airplanes, movies (silent and talking), radio, TV, nuclear weapons, space travel, VHS tapes, and cable TV. Hearing them talk about these things made me realize, even as a child, that the world changes constantly and quickly.

Despite the rapidity and scope of change, the past is the foundation of the present and future. Our parents, grandparents, and older family members are our personal connections to that foundation. Let's talk to them, ask questions, probe their memories, listen, and pass on what we hear.

Rob Lauer is an award-winning, nationally-produced and published playwright with over 35 years of experience in the entertainment industry. His national credits include production work for MGA Films, Time/Warner TV, The Learning Channel and The History Channel. Locally, Rob has been producing, directing and hosting three TV series for PCTV (the City of Portsmouth’s official channel) since 2011.