October 24, 2018:
Man in field, wallet-sized.
Trousers and blazer, unmatching. Solid-colored shirt, unmatching. Striped tie, tucked inside the shirt, a very period look. His hair is surprisingly thick, combed straight back. Last time you'll see him with hair.
Hands at sides, stiff pose, same pose he'll later strike at the Presidio, only there his twitching left hand suggests nervousness. Here he's at home.
There's no year. The reverse has only his first name written, the formal version he later dropped: "Donald".
I think, he's a teenager here. Late teens. Preparing to leave, perhaps.
Where's he going? Army? Civilian Conservation Corps?
How old is his little daughter?