tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34484230068152382712024-02-07T04:39:53.788-08:00Genealogy HeirloomsFamily stories and research stories that tell the tale of my personal research. If you have a similar family line or want to know more. Please contact me!CarmenMJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12928765351501514151noreply@blogger.comBlogger352125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3448423006815238271.post-39691444581359391842022-11-23T10:34:00.003-08:002022-11-23T10:34:46.261-08:00Some of it is about the pie!!!<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrwf06yK5soeHQ9iVqBUKY1Y457MDJwJhTBEDssNXYdFAGrwP2PrbII9J8uU1cvytcEngNlh5WSJbGsjGon31xRsqVcrOSSVCFrdN4DaBdsrUNpnBpDgmufzH5pZNkMXih5he_OW-pghre3j1V0AnkXEuoqIsbEjVjfxPt-aD5ferT7t-wFxOSNM9AEA/s4000/20221122_193619.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrwf06yK5soeHQ9iVqBUKY1Y457MDJwJhTBEDssNXYdFAGrwP2PrbII9J8uU1cvytcEngNlh5WSJbGsjGon31xRsqVcrOSSVCFrdN4DaBdsrUNpnBpDgmufzH5pZNkMXih5he_OW-pghre3j1V0AnkXEuoqIsbEjVjfxPt-aD5ferT7t-wFxOSNM9AEA/w400-h300/20221122_193619.jpg" width="400" /></a></p><p>Last night, I was sitting in my chair reading my book and waiting for the pies that I had just made to cool so I could put them in the refrigerator. I was feeling quite content. I was by myself, with my cat resting on my lap and the wonderful smells of fall still permeating the house. I have more to do tonight...anyone who has done much preparation for Thanksgiving know that it is not a one day affair. </p><p>When I was young, my chief jobs were doing the dishes, peeling and chopping. My Mom oversaw everything. My grandmother would make the pies on her own and bring them over on Thanksgiving. When I was about 16, that changed. It was difficult for my grandmother to do much of anything and Mom told her to not worry about the pies and that we would take care of it. So, Mom bought pre made pie dough and we worked on the pies together. She basically told me what to do and how to do it! People asked me how I learned to cook and that was essentially it. Mom sat at the bar and directed me on what to. I put the pie dough in the pie plates and Mom showed me how to remove the excess and crimp the edges. The filling was where Mom shined. She didn't enjoy putting the dough in the pie plates so she let me do that. That first year, I did the pie dough and peeled the apples, but Mom did the rest of it. The next year it became my job except for the huckleberry pie which was her favorite. My normal pie repertoire was Apple pie, Mincemeat Apple pie and Pumpkin pie. I think that my grandmother even got a chance to taste a pie that I had made. She passed away in August when I was 18 years old. That first Thanksgiving was very difficult for my Mom. She was grieving for her mother and stressed trying to accommodate her step-father. We had two Thanksgiving's with my grandfather on his own. The stress involved with that is a whole other story.</p><p>As I got older, more and more of the Thanksgiving preparations fell to me. The only thing that Mom took charge of was the Turkey and dressing. I suppose that I wasn't quite trusted with that yet. During the day of Thanksgiving, our kitchen was filled with a lot of helpers. After my brother arrived, he took care of the gravy while I was preparing the mashed potatoes. One of my sister-in-laws was likely cleaning up after us with my Mom overseeing and directing all from her spot at the counter. The last year Mom was alive, I did the normal preparations for going over to my brother's house where he and his wife took care of the majority of the meal. I made and baked the pies and the family favorite salads. Mom decided that we needed another Thanksgiving meal at the house the next day as she wanted the leftovers. I have always thought that Mom knew her time was short that last year. She had started coughing again and she had an appointment the following week with her doctor in Spokane. As it turned out, the cancer had come back and she was diagnosed again on Dec 22nd and died 4 days later.</p><p>It has been 17 years since we lost Mom this year. Most of the time during the holidays when I think of Mom, I smile instead of cry. I think that is the natural order of things. I have even changed up the traditional preparations. I made the mistake about a decade ago by learning how to make the pie dough from scratch. Dad doesn't offer his opinion on much, but he was very definite that the home made pie crust was much better. So, last night I made a Pumpkin pie and Bourbon Pecan pie and enjoyed the special smells that are associated with Thanksgiving. Tonight I will bake the Apple pie and the Mincemeat-Apple pie and hope that I will finish before 9 pm. I also have to finish my Dad's salad which my neice has named "Granpa's Crappy Salad!" It is lemon jellow that is set mixed in with softened cream cheese and then you had a whole bunch of small chopped celery. I know...it sounds pretty good until you get to the celery. I then will make the Egg Nog jelled salad which is my favorite and finish up the sweet potatoes with brown sugar sauce with butter, orange zest and rum. </p><p>Some day I want to teach one of the younger generation to bake the pies from scratch. I wonder sometimes if learning to do something yourself instead of buying it at a grocery store is a lost art. People have told me they just buy a pumpkin pie from Costco and call it good. I don't agree. You miss out on the taste but also the smells. Thanksgiving is multiple day affair if you include the preparations for the meal. For now, I am the one who shows up with the pies. Most don't come home with us and it is a way where I can share all that I have been taught by those who came before me. So for me...those pies represent my Mom and Grandma Cappy and Grandma Marian! The pie fillings come from what I learned from my Mom and her Mom and I use my Grandma Marian's pie crust recipe. So...some of what makes Thanksgiving great...is the pie!</p>CarmenMJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12928765351501514151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3448423006815238271.post-77673426251032096722020-06-10T12:05:00.006-07:002020-06-16T16:44:22.247-07:00Happy 100th Birthday Grandma Marian!<div class="separator"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2qe8T5kc5YY2ttuLfvleaAsVoww2C2OsaNy6wwtjqcl3tBdFa8L5fDOTNylqg_44IoBhPkbmA7wBzCcBYiwQ_M24Z47TlKBAojqAdFJwpOhsfGobjlfQWR-edMCxiVOMnFAYfUKV5FiGv/s840/Marian%2527s+communion3.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="840" data-original-width="531" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2qe8T5kc5YY2ttuLfvleaAsVoww2C2OsaNy6wwtjqcl3tBdFa8L5fDOTNylqg_44IoBhPkbmA7wBzCcBYiwQ_M24Z47TlKBAojqAdFJwpOhsfGobjlfQWR-edMCxiVOMnFAYfUKV5FiGv/s320/Marian%2527s+communion3.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marian - 1st Communion<br /></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV6KPnZNQipm_5ttFiIoxXkfUseLmzNOV-KIIIAdnaI-iCsJLc6l0U_HfuhJ9bLXZRA6l7bRBHrsUlRvg-NAAKZwnrikrXrEmgaxvQnsFiot6MJYDv_UMZBSDpcNEy5BhIomiIp0byejUH/s480/Marian+1936.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="300" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV6KPnZNQipm_5ttFiIoxXkfUseLmzNOV-KIIIAdnaI-iCsJLc6l0U_HfuhJ9bLXZRA6l7bRBHrsUlRvg-NAAKZwnrikrXrEmgaxvQnsFiot6MJYDv_UMZBSDpcNEy5BhIomiIp0byejUH/s320/Marian+1936.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marian - 16 Yrs Old<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheAzElGjGdUKWj4ERDJ8OmkR9POmdYnTnWWmxVvPLU8jYVJ7iP2lKFS4bM2sdYU1r4dJKI5graOArd_5lqSd7wn0XKcNdlmulHfy7H0obmvka9HRLeE1aHhR_LMHXMncq0ZIvZVi4-PYLW/s730/Marian4+%25282%2529.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="730" data-original-width="576" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheAzElGjGdUKWj4ERDJ8OmkR9POmdYnTnWWmxVvPLU8jYVJ7iP2lKFS4bM2sdYU1r4dJKI5graOArd_5lqSd7wn0XKcNdlmulHfy7H0obmvka9HRLeE1aHhR_LMHXMncq0ZIvZVi4-PYLW/w253-h320/Marian4+%25282%2529.jpg" width="253" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>Today, my grandmother would have been 100 years old. She lived a long and interesting life. She saw the best of times during her childhood and some of the worst of times during her teenage years. She experienced the trauma of war as a younger mother and worried sister. Grandma was a young mother, grandmother and great grandmother and unfortunately, a young widow. She lived in interesting times!</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPVtyaQn89HwHEVHqSdYkaw142l5kQOvA6i64QJX2jhVCymaZSDxstovDuM0HiAAEAL-u8WNcy3lQmZ3Epd_bnxMgoZ3tLT-TNfjFuAWPOgh0CpOlY8FroQeYX6VaPTZ6PWC6sPejS_x1f/s623/Marian%252C+Elaine%252C+Norma%252C+Pauline+1930.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="623" data-original-width="424" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPVtyaQn89HwHEVHqSdYkaw142l5kQOvA6i64QJX2jhVCymaZSDxstovDuM0HiAAEAL-u8WNcy3lQmZ3Epd_bnxMgoZ3tLT-TNfjFuAWPOgh0CpOlY8FroQeYX6VaPTZ6PWC6sPejS_x1f/s320/Marian%252C+Elaine%252C+Norma%252C+Pauline+1930.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marian with Elaine, Norma & Pauline</td></tr></tbody></table><div> Helen Marian Gage Johnson was born in a farmhouse in Mapleton, Monona Co., IA on 10 June 1920 to Ora Silas Gage and Florence Christine Shawver. By that time, her parents owned the farm they lived on in near Mapleton, IA and she had an older brother, Orland who had been born in 1918. Her brother John Bernard followed in 1922, then Elaine, Pauline, Norma, Don, Byron, Duane and Gary. She was the oldest sister amongst a family of ten children and she took that role very much to heart. Grandma talked often of those younger years. She often said that she squabbled more with Orland but Bernard or Bun as the family called him was her playmate and there were a lot of wonderful memories of playing around the farm. Of course, there were chores, but I expect to Grandma Marian, that was merely a part of life. There was a point as the younger siblings came along that her mother gave her charge of one of the younger ones…for Grandma that was Don. Grandma told me of her learning to take care of her baby brother and I think that she loved all of her siblings, but she always had an extra soft spot for Don as he did for her. Grandma talked about those younger years where she talked about having the privileges of parents who had a comfortable life. She had store bought dresses and pretty things and her childhood was without care. That changed after the depression hit. By 1932, her parents had to make a hard choice. They weren’t able to make enough money to make the mortgage payment. Rather than take the chance of having the property foreclosed on and causing a financial loss for their friends, Ora and Florence signed the land over to Lou Brenner and shipped their things to South Dakota and took the trip north to the unknown in Philip, SD.</div><div><br /></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjthQKr-mRlBiY9fKWEVlkdNuCkm3du_Rb6n1qyznA5tLrJ4FeKDuAKLFquSrNBdiLdiM-ja783MREODoXarAvBJ1DxQIABvWf32gnq-FPTvFHl4K1O6BJmlw5yKfmjNC4VJee-2nBDwJkF/s2048/Florence%2526Daughters.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1669" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjthQKr-mRlBiY9fKWEVlkdNuCkm3du_Rb6n1qyznA5tLrJ4FeKDuAKLFquSrNBdiLdiM-ja783MREODoXarAvBJ1DxQIABvWf32gnq-FPTvFHl4K1O6BJmlw5yKfmjNC4VJee-2nBDwJkF/s320/Florence%2526Daughters.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Florence with Norma, Elaine, Pauline & Marian<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVK6l9bpC5vaPVmDBxL-2vkycSqD0Md5mz3fwI81cf6-3Nve9FjdMjiZr5EQYyb7B47TXDqPw1opzEXpXOVOC-KjfhQMqHekxTz8jr-OYdAPA2DIIBA2z7aFjCcgjFQvQz3tlOiWaz-71D/s1512/Elaine%252C+Marian%252C+Pauline-1932.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="1234" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVK6l9bpC5vaPVmDBxL-2vkycSqD0Md5mz3fwI81cf6-3Nve9FjdMjiZr5EQYyb7B47TXDqPw1opzEXpXOVOC-KjfhQMqHekxTz8jr-OYdAPA2DIIBA2z7aFjCcgjFQvQz3tlOiWaz-71D/s320/Elaine%252C+Marian%252C+Pauline-1932.jpg" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL_WOlxSof_BMtGkC-i-M9vCCXZDKIonaHRwYkw75kCLppqON0XGY1g9jxfdhYsJijJYKiwAwgE8ADj5HrK9_W-3qzH4OYPlEjDadrhRX9mG_rf8a_GLpdMpvNCX1DCwONt91WN3atTtBV/s480/Marian+2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="437" data-original-width="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL_WOlxSof_BMtGkC-i-M9vCCXZDKIonaHRwYkw75kCLppqON0XGY1g9jxfdhYsJijJYKiwAwgE8ADj5HrK9_W-3qzH4OYPlEjDadrhRX9mG_rf8a_GLpdMpvNCX1DCwONt91WN3atTtBV/s320/Marian+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marian - 1 Yr Old</td></tr></tbody></table>On paper, I am sure that the rental property looked like a decent opportunity. There was enough land to raise crops and a house. However, what looked like good land from Mapleton, Iowa was not good land in Philip, South Dakota. Philip is located near the Badlands and was probably very poor farmland in the best of times, 1933 was not the best of times. It was especially important to Grandma Florence that her children continue their schooling. It was a hardship! During that winter, Orland and Bun spent time in the cellar cutting seed potatoes for planting and soon after both boys became terribly sick with pneumonia. While Bun recovered, Orland got much worse. He ended up with severe pleurisy and abscesses in his lungs. His parents were told at one point that he would not make it through the night. Orland had been about 160 pounds and was down to 120 pounds and had lost all his hair. The younger boys had problems with whooping cough and croup. Nothing seemed to go well nor was it getting any better. Once again, the family took off for “greener” pastures.</div><div><br /></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVe3aEhCs-muqPGGPwJjpTn2jDnx1XNFCCh3r-GKKH7jT6ek67vCuu-12gZNqqcCXH35sTdPEU00-8zhfSvVCghsKFEdkJAWVCOLjVnKFdbZ-aqy51zxZXp9_8-f-H-GER4uiNaqMTmkiE/s2048/Loggie+in+Winter.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1160" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVe3aEhCs-muqPGGPwJjpTn2jDnx1XNFCCh3r-GKKH7jT6ek67vCuu-12gZNqqcCXH35sTdPEU00-8zhfSvVCghsKFEdkJAWVCOLjVnKFdbZ-aqy51zxZXp9_8-f-H-GER4uiNaqMTmkiE/s320/Loggie+in+Winter.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loggie that Family lived in up on Hatter Creek</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyiw3R7vd-V7cAUcXujS0NdQ_eILiTr1BfJas-COF3Rh_BmU9wkEb4MTIOW7nv-zmh3FX6r1v-zwIf7m9vj92B7L-LBSut39I_faOvJxsMZDHY9SRnGv_Ez8v_gzfSCErWP_rvSKhwQPdU/s611/Dunn+Center%252C+ND+House+Frank+%2526+Marian+lived+%25282%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="338" data-original-width="611" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyiw3R7vd-V7cAUcXujS0NdQ_eILiTr1BfJas-COF3Rh_BmU9wkEb4MTIOW7nv-zmh3FX6r1v-zwIf7m9vj92B7L-LBSut39I_faOvJxsMZDHY9SRnGv_Ez8v_gzfSCErWP_rvSKhwQPdU/s320/Dunn+Center%252C+ND+House+Frank+%2526+Marian+lived+%25282%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chicken Coop made into a house in North Dakota<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>When I think of traveling across Montana in November with six children in a Model T, it boggles my mind. Grandma Marian remembered it as being one of the happier times of her childhood. They stopped at her Uncle George’s near Jordan, MT and they spent Thanksgiving there. I have been to the Shawver ranch in Montana and I am not sure how they made it there. When I was there, it rained and the trip out to the ranch was almost cancelled because of the road being washed out, and that was in August. However, Grandma remembered the trip as riding horses with her cousins, going to dances at the neighbors and having fun! When they left Jordan to head to Idaho, I suspect that Grandma Marian left the last of her childhood behind. This was the early winter of 1934 and as a 14-year-old and oldest sister, I am sure she felt a lot of responsibility. As they traveled across Montana, Bernard remembered stopping and building a fire so Grandma Florence could make meals. The meals always involved eggs…as that is what they had (from Uncle George’s ranch). They made it to Dover, ID and the family was in a rental while Granddad Gage scoped around with some neighbors (Harve Hespen and Louis Becker) and Orland was finally able to return to the family in early February. By late spring, Grandad Gage had bought some land on what we know today as Hatter Creek near Princeton, ID. Within a short time, they built what the family referred to as the “loggie”. Schooling was still very important and between working for a local family to take care of children and boarding at the Ursaline Academy in Moscow, ID, Grandma Marian wasn’t home too much. She was trying to do her best to help with expenses in the family. Because of illness and moving…the oldest three Gage siblings all graduated in 1939 from Potlatch High School. Bernard was amongst the youngest in the class with Orland and Grandma likely the oldest. </div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnrybv1fWA6MjXnxOS1lCjcd_YmMtvUSn803oOb7Soi2x-ti-33lVDPMkep5Vw-mj7wXHzFtGMWFi8H-Z-bYtpHow2ctW-hDQI8GFLYjMDxW6MyWS1TSXLHMNYKtVZt_1HT3qtVZj-Y6_i/s480/Marian+%2526+Frank.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="392" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnrybv1fWA6MjXnxOS1lCjcd_YmMtvUSn803oOb7Soi2x-ti-33lVDPMkep5Vw-mj7wXHzFtGMWFi8H-Z-bYtpHow2ctW-hDQI8GFLYjMDxW6MyWS1TSXLHMNYKtVZt_1HT3qtVZj-Y6_i/s320/Marian+%2526+Frank.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marian & Frank - 1939<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div>It was a short time after graduation when Grandma met Frank Johnson…a friend of a boyfriend who had come up to Idaho after serving in the CCC’s (Civilian Conservation Corps). One thing led to another and they were engaged in July (at the birth of her youngest brother, Gary) and married in October. Soon after, the young couple headed to North Dakota which is where Grandpa Frank was from. My Dad arrived in July of 1940, Shirley in October 1941, and Anne in November 1942. Life was harder in North Dakota. As a young wife, she struggled to take care of her father-in-law and sister-in-law. Grandpa Frank worked whatever job that he could get, sometimes working as many as 4 jobs. They bought a chicken coop and made a home with two rooms. When work was tough to get, they were living on $ 17 a month of social security that her father-in-law received. Grandma found it was cheaper to buy syrup for sugar than actual sugar.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am not sure if she was just fed up…or missing home terribly but in January of 1943, her parents bought her a train ticket and she went back to Hatter Creek for a visit with her two toddlers and colicky baby. Knowing my grandmother, she had decided that the family needed to move to Idaho where there were jobs to be had. It was the first time that my great grandparents saw their oldest three grandchildren. I am sure it was quite an occasion. Grandpa Frank could not convince his father to come west, but within a few months, he joined them in Idaho. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>In the next few years, the young couple bought the old Hatter Creek school and made a home out of it and two more daughters arrived in the family, Mary Kay in 1944 and Frances in 1946. Grandma Marian had 5 children within six years. In 1952, they bought the old farm up on Mountain Home (north of Potlatch) and raised their family. Life was never easy and there were always monetary challenges as well as family stress. After their children were out of the house, they moved to Oregon City, OR for a new start and later moved to Canby, OR. Grandpa Frank never had very good health and he died in 1975. Soon after, Grandma Marian’s parents, Ora and Florence moved to Canby, OR. I am not sure who was helping who at this point, but I know that the support was important. Between work and taking care of her family, life was busy and fulfilling for Grandma Marian. After the death of her parents in 1990 and 1991, life began to change. Grandma Marian helped where she could but the family near her was working and involved in their own busy lives. By that point, her oldest three were all retired and urging her to move back to Idaho. So in 2001, Grandma Marian moved to Idaho and began another chapter. </div><div><br /></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl2bBLpl72msf635_R76NuT-xNmjAlvOifAEkJaScMracKRmkqkp9DPw8Iw8C6VtCHPfoEAKwjSBka9k50-mv0DJJyEbkoIpKt5wY97yD5p2XUKQkoi3nb5ubG8Qh-bXjNILwfdFNk1usC/s1024/JohnsonFam-2011+%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl2bBLpl72msf635_R76NuT-xNmjAlvOifAEkJaScMracKRmkqkp9DPw8Iw8C6VtCHPfoEAKwjSBka9k50-mv0DJJyEbkoIpKt5wY97yD5p2XUKQkoi3nb5ubG8Qh-bXjNILwfdFNk1usC/s320/JohnsonFam-2011+%25281%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mother's Day - 2011<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Grandma Marian was an intensely curious and intelligent worman. In her youth, there were few opportunities to further her eduation. After her move to Lewiston, ID, she embraced learning to use the computer, scanning and emailing relatives and friends. She joined my Mom and I in our efforts at genealogical research and shared her stories and memories. Grandma enjoyed being around her brothers and getting to know many of her Shawver cousins who lived nearby. It was wonderful for us (the families of the Gene, Shirley & Anne) to have the opportunity to spend the time with her. We had a wonderful 90th birthday party for her and I think she was flabbergasted at the fact that we had 150 people who came. All of her siblings were there, her children, most of her grandchildren and great grandchildren. Cousins from Montana, neices and nephews as well as her last surviving aunt. It was a wonderful celebration that she thoroughly enjoyed. Grandma Marian made it to one last reunion the next year. It is a fond memory that at the dinner table at our house a few days before, she argued with her brother for almost 30 minutes about the name of some teacher they had back in South Dakota. I suspect that she is up there arguing with him again as he recently passed away after his 100th birthday. I miss her but am so glad that I had the opportunity to truly know her and feel as I didn't leave anything unsaid. We love her and miss her....but am sure she is happy with her family up above and looking over us always! Here are a few favorite photos!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbrXllSd1wGjZDijeLL6g3ZydcNTyuzDYFhnDIRNe96LnMc-NMfDCZG9GxjS16gJoQlJjEWth8ke0u1UEKvMvvbBZ3RoYinPNyIHkQZFi2p3vCznh1OZv6cB_ug6meyyqwVoxII5BTBYj7/s1147/MGJ-BD-2010-Sibs+%25282%2529.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1147" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbrXllSd1wGjZDijeLL6g3ZydcNTyuzDYFhnDIRNe96LnMc-NMfDCZG9GxjS16gJoQlJjEWth8ke0u1UEKvMvvbBZ3RoYinPNyIHkQZFi2p3vCznh1OZv6cB_ug6meyyqwVoxII5BTBYj7/s320/MGJ-BD-2010-Sibs+%25282%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marian with siblings - 2010<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrsHv2OCOxEpYPZP8AQlOQqF9LzjUD3iTBP8K2ssOalHgpul7iG003pYm1RalJCXSa4hWN1KrOxzlUs-czp_v-kFhgQLGqzLJNLYz9XaF9aLvS214vPwS5VMEUzq9I7-X1cJnXvzeg__Ro/s1147/MGJ-BD-2010-Johnson.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1147" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrsHv2OCOxEpYPZP8AQlOQqF9LzjUD3iTBP8K2ssOalHgpul7iG003pYm1RalJCXSa4hWN1KrOxzlUs-czp_v-kFhgQLGqzLJNLYz9XaF9aLvS214vPwS5VMEUzq9I7-X1cJnXvzeg__Ro/s320/MGJ-BD-2010-Johnson.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marian with children and spouses<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlS8lGaVlvhjla9NqdxXb8RY1Wg6yZdaJ4gyPCdpztj_PWavezPGjnLF81DVKS5ocN_LHPIpbrHcgc-2kV3QJR8SvIsDO8hffJtxva3xjpackiY-oXjJQ21et62MLmMkGU1tf_oK1aml_H/s480/Marian+abt+1922.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="307" data-original-width="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlS8lGaVlvhjla9NqdxXb8RY1Wg6yZdaJ4gyPCdpztj_PWavezPGjnLF81DVKS5ocN_LHPIpbrHcgc-2kV3QJR8SvIsDO8hffJtxva3xjpackiY-oXjJQ21et62MLmMkGU1tf_oK1aml_H/s320/Marian+abt+1922.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marian<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw755NKcD6mfLz9D1Y3xn-laRGSQhbiVVsPaWIzTedm9yRRyDNrnuX_PE6K9VQKa9rORwPU1BHkCpkAp6s_6iY-ZV13flmWgNfqMrIY0ar-ZH1l4fGfS3FxYULa56UkWrjoQjWSi2R4mcc/s480/Marian+%2526+Don+1932.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="366" data-original-width="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw755NKcD6mfLz9D1Y3xn-laRGSQhbiVVsPaWIzTedm9yRRyDNrnuX_PE6K9VQKa9rORwPU1BHkCpkAp6s_6iY-ZV13flmWgNfqMrIY0ar-ZH1l4fGfS3FxYULa56UkWrjoQjWSi2R4mcc/s320/Marian+%2526+Don+1932.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggpQjRpiaXZ87xRXgeGq2pUvHYXRVqRUsOQM4Pe7dOV6W23Zm7kWlCsSSxQDaDekLdlo173RvnBC8Cum8z5DScdz6dx-0b7e65JT_fd-10AhQI6eLzLZOmw_P7JtYzmYZ29HHXxlyrpC9E/s480/Grandpa%252C+Orland+%2526+Marian+abt+1921.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="380" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggpQjRpiaXZ87xRXgeGq2pUvHYXRVqRUsOQM4Pe7dOV6W23Zm7kWlCsSSxQDaDekLdlo173RvnBC8Cum8z5DScdz6dx-0b7e65JT_fd-10AhQI6eLzLZOmw_P7JtYzmYZ29HHXxlyrpC9E/s320/Grandpa%252C+Orland+%2526+Marian+abt+1921.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marian with Ora and Orland<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRPj8T2I2Ff0pNG-zsGwTJj4Ms2SwTyUK8E74vHQ8mJxbV-yZFlUX_ap9-tLhIQUNw4TVJUkRGdaLouB_z4w1XxuowKtNdwnZpARDcF1ksDjmVMj7hgxP1Vs3iXhGMXpjVCZiC01_IY2-Q/s1746/Marian+Gage+Johnso+B-day+W+Gr+Grands3.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1153" data-original-width="1746" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRPj8T2I2Ff0pNG-zsGwTJj4Ms2SwTyUK8E74vHQ8mJxbV-yZFlUX_ap9-tLhIQUNw4TVJUkRGdaLouB_z4w1XxuowKtNdwnZpARDcF1ksDjmVMj7hgxP1Vs3iXhGMXpjVCZiC01_IY2-Q/s320/Marian+Gage+Johnso+B-day+W+Gr+Grands3.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marian with great grandchildren - 2000<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div> </div><br /></div><div><br /></div>CarmenMJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12928765351501514151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3448423006815238271.post-57252826714024313002020-05-09T21:34:00.004-07:002020-05-09T21:34:54.317-07:00Loveletter to Mom<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS6Xf_GEU0ZKkCgZFmSdDACFe3ZZG-3W1IRZNKXcvT8Yc7RhHwTTyRE4ZMwvSBnpPXkIYbks81w7kP2Kjc6xtIz_-LRNyOH4hDHB5OBe5ZLlZ5aVufxXeNiMYZb9ZJXD4ROsS_fi80lVJ5/s1600/img167.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="890" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS6Xf_GEU0ZKkCgZFmSdDACFe3ZZG-3W1IRZNKXcvT8Yc7RhHwTTyRE4ZMwvSBnpPXkIYbks81w7kP2Kjc6xtIz_-LRNyOH4hDHB5OBe5ZLlZ5aVufxXeNiMYZb9ZJXD4ROsS_fi80lVJ5/s320/img167.jpg" width="320" /></a>Dear Mom...<br />
I never quite understood when you used to tell me how much you missed picking up the phone and talking to your Mom. I wasn't able to understand because you can't understand until the day you lose your Mom. It doesn't matter how old you are, the loss is always there.<br />
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I like to say that your Mom is always with you in your mind and your heart. My mind remembers all of the nights playing your version of gin rummy until Dad came home from working graveyard. Your special type of humor showing up while you talked on the CB radio or with your close friends. I remember watching you play out in the yard until you almost collapsed with exhaustion only to get up the next day and do the same thing. It was something else to watch you with that first computer and those that followed. You taught yourself word processing, spreadsheets, databases and publishing. My mind still sees you sitting at the piano playing and singing song after song with the door open. People walking along the road used to stop and listen. I can still see you singing and filling up the church with your voice. I can hear your laughter and jokes and even your irritation. Anything that you did, you did it to the best of your ability. You lived your life with passion, humor and love for your family. There are a lifetime of memories that play in my head. They are wonderful gifts for our family to always treasure.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDhU-OUPKVTaKZSYyCqP0trbk5OOfxwKn7h7GHc1hJHcC4h1K_oimGXakGvQdpK2tg1HfppvCIGmtHIq32jal-APdodAvN_jWIRrQYGh5kXyl_jrJnSxDPy_BHHYVeTPP5uosK-pdKygfV/s1600/Betty+Tannahill+-+1987.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1583" data-original-width="1175" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDhU-OUPKVTaKZSYyCqP0trbk5OOfxwKn7h7GHc1hJHcC4h1K_oimGXakGvQdpK2tg1HfppvCIGmtHIq32jal-APdodAvN_jWIRrQYGh5kXyl_jrJnSxDPy_BHHYVeTPP5uosK-pdKygfV/s200/Betty+Tannahill+-+1987.jpg" width="148" /></a><br />
I miss laying my head down on your chest and feeling your arms around me. You left a permanent impression on so many lives from your family to friends. So many have a story to tell about something you said or did. So, I hope that you are enjoying your Mother's day this weekend with all the women that meant so much to you during your lifetime. I sure miss them all...but most of all, I miss you! Happy Mother's Day!<br />
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<br />CarmenMJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12928765351501514151noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3448423006815238271.post-54967825525010717722020-05-07T21:57:00.000-07:002020-05-07T21:57:23.545-07:00Grandpa Frank & Old CarsDuring the past year, I have been working on getting some of my grandmother's negatives scanned. Many of them were from the 1930's and 40's. There are many great familiar photos but much better quality. There are two pictures of Grandpa Frank in an old car. One is the familiar one of ol' 77 and the other one much earlier.<br />
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Sometimes I think that cars become a character in our own history. My Dad can probably tell you every car he has ever had...come to think of if, so can I. However, I don't have quite as varied of a history. One of the best finds in my grandmother's negatives was an old picture that I suspect was taken about 1930. Dad remembers his father telling him that he worked delivering coal for quite a while. I believe that the other individual in the photo is a cousin. Someone else would have to tell my the vintage of the car. Even my Dad isn't sure. My Grandpa Frank is in the driver's seat and I am sure that this was taken in Dunn Center, ND<br />
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It was a series of happy circumstances that my Grandpa ended up on Hatter Creek. He was in the CCC's (Civilian Conservation Corps) and traveled from North Dakota to Arkansas with a side trip to New Orleans. Grandpa ended up coming up north with a friend. Went out on a double date with his friend and Grandpa ended up with his friend's date, my grandmother. (No hard feels as they remained friends) My grandmother was the oldest daughter in a family that was shortly going to be 10. On the night her youngest brother was born (4 July 1939) - my grandparents got engaged. As the story goes, Grandma's younger brother, John Bernard Gage (known to family as Bun) fixed up a car to race in the Tin Lizzy Derby in Lewiston, ID. However, he wasn't old enough to drive the car yet as he was not 18 as yet. So, he convinced his sister's fiance to race his car. It is probably one of my favorite pictures of my grandfather. I love the phone and the one below was also taken by my grandmother in August of 1939. <br />
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My grandparents married a few months later in October. They began their young married life driving across Montana to my Grandfather's home in Dunn Center,ND. As my Dad tells the story, the 1927 Chevy through a rod and Grandpa had to try to put it back together out in the middle of nowhere. </div>
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I love this photo of the younger couple...probably just married and getting ready to start their life together. They had 35 years together and shared five children and 18 grandchildren. Grandpa died at the age of 60 and Grandma survived him by another 35 years. <br />
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<br />CarmenMJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12928765351501514151noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3448423006815238271.post-65145505834947616692020-02-12T10:45:00.000-08:002020-02-12T10:45:14.512-08:00Pizza and Beans<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Aunt Pauline and Uncle Allen were favorites of mine since I was a child. Pauline was my grandmother's younger sister and Allen was her husband. I can still picture Pauline zipping about and Allen with his shirt unbuttoned with a beer in a beer cozy in his hand. They were fun and there was always a smart ass comment. There were a few times when I remember Pauline and Allen staying with us at our house. They would stop by in their trailer and other than a nap or two, we were altogether visiting. What wonderful memories!<br />
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Pauline had a way of looking at you and listening to you that made you feel as if you were one of the most important people in her life. I haven't seen that talent in that many people but I have in my grandmother and her sisters...and I suspect that they got it from their mother. Pauline made me feel special and important. I think she did that for just about everyone. I found it funny and endearing that just about every card I ever received always had a wonderful note in it which included what the current weather was in Waldport, OR where she lived. They were lovely newsy notes that always made me smile. <br />
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Allen was a big bear of a man with wonderful hugs and a twinkle in his eye. I knew as a child that he had a bad back because my parents told me, but it wasn't something that he ever told me much about. Allen was always good for a story and he was always teasing me. I used to think that we had something special because we had the same birthday. I can remember time and time again that I found myself sitting next to Allen to hear what he would say next. I learned a lot of family stories at his side!<br />
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I think I must have been about 19 and it was the first trip that I drove to Canby, OR to spend spring break with my grandmother and great grandparents. I started out my trip getting lost in Portland, OR because I took a wrong turn. I ended up in a not so nice area :) I got myself turned around and made it to Canby. I spent a few days there and then decided to go down to see Aunt Pauline and Uncle Allen at Waldport, OR. I was excited to go and see the ocean and have some wonderful seafood. After another adventure in driving (this was my first long road trip), I made it to Aunt Pauline and Uncle Allen's. After the initial greeting, Aunt Pauline was excited to show me her home town. I changed out of my new tennis shoes and we began by walking around on the beach and then walking through town. I learned at that point, that I wasn't the only person that Pauline made feel special. Pauline was known and affectionately greeted by everyone. What a wonderful special day that I spent with her. I have never forgotten it!<br />
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When we got home, Pauline promised me a special treat. I am not sure we were on the same page, because I was hoping for seafood. Instead, Pauline brought out a frozen pepperoni pizza. I was a freshman in college and my tastes had been elevated to Domino's and pizza delivery. As we sat down to eat, Pauline took a pot off the stove of Allen's favorite beans. Then I saw Allen grab a spoonful of those beans and place them on his pizza. I can honestly say that I have never seen that before or since. <br />
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We lost Allen back in 2001 and we lost Pauline on Jan 24, 2020 at the age of 94. I suppose that I will aways think of that trip to Allen and Pauline's and remember the fun and enthusiasm of Pauline and the twinkle and teasing of Allen's. Whenever I see the ocean, I remember walking on the beach with Pauline....and whenever I see a pot of beans - Allen definitely comes to mind. I have missed Allen for the last 20 years and will miss Pauline terribly. I can't help thinking of how lucky I have been to have known and loved these two wonderful people who always made me feel special. I hope they knew how special and they were loved by me and everyone else who knew them!<br />
CarmenMJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12928765351501514151noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3448423006815238271.post-6604670483571141132019-04-12T11:42:00.002-07:002019-04-12T15:58:08.066-07:00My Aunt Anne!<br />
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Sometimes I think that it takes losing someone you love to
remember how lucky you are to have had them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I have always known that I was fortunate, but I am reminded because we lost my Aunt Anne this past week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She
is free from her pain and reunited with all those she loved – but I am sure
going to miss her.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO8N34rxRDZ_-qaBqsfWe7nv71_BTU0onF55rdMqgnex8804sfskA3Cr4qO_63gL_9ZWUJSftbH1uHiq5uIR2YR4O2u6kRq3SaXbvdTithgL5i7WrF4dTuUAGedQl9n_T8yZVRv8xymFAn/s1600/Anne%252C1944+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1503" data-original-width="936" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO8N34rxRDZ_-qaBqsfWe7nv71_BTU0onF55rdMqgnex8804sfskA3Cr4qO_63gL_9ZWUJSftbH1uHiq5uIR2YR4O2u6kRq3SaXbvdTithgL5i7WrF4dTuUAGedQl9n_T8yZVRv8xymFAn/s200/Anne%252C1944+%25282%2529.jpg" width="124" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anne - 1944</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-8jHFWI6QJ0Rj-EcXagVyZ8-iqr6CQmS56CRUMLm7VAA_8Qu0vJgIvmAKq7X2IFAizeFG_cdi_lKNRbdP7gx5EWYIwY_1ZllTTZC7w3jT2CyzuB3yu1Cz7-6qlPPRT3KxaOrONPrjrzVv/s1600/Anne2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="790" data-original-width="541" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-8jHFWI6QJ0Rj-EcXagVyZ8-iqr6CQmS56CRUMLm7VAA_8Qu0vJgIvmAKq7X2IFAizeFG_cdi_lKNRbdP7gx5EWYIwY_1ZllTTZC7w3jT2CyzuB3yu1Cz7-6qlPPRT3KxaOrONPrjrzVv/s200/Anne2.jpg" width="136" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE9wvwNIqN8NaAxcNYh2XVuCrRUbYKk7nkhH1ZMBk-D9NsXErhGNjmHiESpHdQYk1pOOZA7LzEjDV_LdlRWUA3LSjnZR8pN50hPvneSlifQke9XIMZwa8mKTgvMY6jsvJf4kOp4_k0ctDO/s1600/Anne+and+Gene+with+the+chickens+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="519" data-original-width="325" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE9wvwNIqN8NaAxcNYh2XVuCrRUbYKk7nkhH1ZMBk-D9NsXErhGNjmHiESpHdQYk1pOOZA7LzEjDV_LdlRWUA3LSjnZR8pN50hPvneSlifQke9XIMZwa8mKTgvMY6jsvJf4kOp4_k0ctDO/s200/Anne+and+Gene+with+the+chickens+%25282%2529.jpg" width="125" /></a></div>
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My Dad was the oldest of 5 and the only boy with 4
sisters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dad had an especially close
relationship with oldest two of his sisters and I am sure it was a combative
one at times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He used to say that his
day was shot if he didn’t make Anne cry before school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am not sure if it was Anne or Shirley who put the scissors through his hand…but I am fairly sure that he deserved it.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNlAN_wL7EX3ud7ThQK732XygLYCJ57HcQxGZjeVDJyAmzqTR0jTT3n0dGO6pO4qh4z4kWfUj3DPvrajiWYEgCiD8gsPPi12L-22Li_LO8Ew5YwYRxvGpvQP9QvTKOMusqjDBreHoq5BGC/s1600/Dunn+Center%252C+ND+House+Frank+%2526+Marian+lived+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="338" data-original-width="611" height="177" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNlAN_wL7EX3ud7ThQK732XygLYCJ57HcQxGZjeVDJyAmzqTR0jTT3n0dGO6pO4qh4z4kWfUj3DPvrajiWYEgCiD8gsPPi12L-22Li_LO8Ew5YwYRxvGpvQP9QvTKOMusqjDBreHoq5BGC/s320/Dunn+Center%252C+ND+House+Frank+%2526+Marian+lived+%25282%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">House in ND where Anne was born</td></tr>
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Dad was born in a hospital in Dickinson, ND
in 1940 but both Shirley and Anne were born in the little house that their
family lived in back in Dunn Center, ND by the local midwife, Mrs. Bell. Anne always found it ironic that she married man with the last name of Bell and she was delivered by a midwife with the name of Minnie Bell. Grandma Marian either got fed up or was so
homesick (maybe both) that she came back to Idaho on a train in February 1943
with a colicky baby (Anne) and two toddlers aged three and two. Her father picked her up and brought her down
to her folks place on Hatter Creek, ID.
There at the bottom of the road were my grandmother’s two younger
brothers waiting with a sled to cart those little ones up to the Loggie (It was
a log cabin and the snow was too deep for the car to make it). It was there that my great grandmother
finally got her hands on her three oldest grandchildren whom she had not yet
seen in person. This is a story that
Anne and I talked about quite often. Obviously,
she didn’t remember the being placed in her grandmother’s arms that first time
but I know she thought about it when she was able to hold her grandchildren for
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnBs0GVvL6iCd9IXAFhveEFnxvhX6RW1oFlxrh-Sy4khpH1cHZo0Nhud6YH-7mK0uWeE1frYaPr4RSDYPbv86nezCf7agUazuYcOH8NOK_kh-K7S-Celcl1RLgQE24DVP_1lWAc5emqC5H/s1600/Loggie+in+Winter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="907" data-original-width="1600" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnBs0GVvL6iCd9IXAFhveEFnxvhX6RW1oFlxrh-Sy4khpH1cHZo0Nhud6YH-7mK0uWeE1frYaPr4RSDYPbv86nezCf7agUazuYcOH8NOK_kh-K7S-Celcl1RLgQE24DVP_1lWAc5emqC5H/s320/Loggie+in+Winter.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loggie where the Gage family lived on Hatter Creek, </td></tr>
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Anne spent part of her early years on Hatter Creek in the
old schoolhouse that her parents bought.
They lived there until she was about nine years old when they moved up
to the Mountain Home area north of Freeze Cemetery near Potlatch, ID. In Anne’s mind, she had an idyllic childhood. Anne, Shirley and Dad (Gene) spent their
childhood climbing trees, playing together and having a wonderful time. They were each other’s playmates and while
their parents never really had any money, they never thought of themselves as
poor. Although the next two sisters were
relatively close in age, I don’t think they ever shared the same memories or
perhaps the same joyful childhood. By
the time they were older, Grandma had a job and wasn’t at home as much…so there
wasn’t the same carefree childhood for them.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZx5SHSBlcsvt33mX1wJU3uM-_GWMs5-U_o6hMVyAeth6aWIfSz6bA1eSxL2nCGHUcbZcezwCYsWrsqWlXo6s5IPV2lW9p-yZXOvmghBdCE9-OkMVj5vyRzoUIyCyw0lIAohzyFWEov7LD/s1600/Anne+Shirley+and+Gene.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="805" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZx5SHSBlcsvt33mX1wJU3uM-_GWMs5-U_o6hMVyAeth6aWIfSz6bA1eSxL2nCGHUcbZcezwCYsWrsqWlXo6s5IPV2lW9p-yZXOvmghBdCE9-OkMVj5vyRzoUIyCyw0lIAohzyFWEov7LD/s200/Anne+Shirley+and+Gene.jpg" width="100" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif4N2L0xuhiOQpNb2PXnbBa_-vqKXPU7wUxijiZXz9GWfAIbSaqj2TORzmmKBUJTzUN4caVF6RU5QdyuNIqLkFewkW4nrNh7VUX0zyn5Ku2NrxSz0f4CSZOyUax99nRnP8gW93xOgTlrJV/s1600/Gene%252CShirley+and+Anne%252C+Potlatch%252C+1943+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="334" data-original-width="539" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif4N2L0xuhiOQpNb2PXnbBa_-vqKXPU7wUxijiZXz9GWfAIbSaqj2TORzmmKBUJTzUN4caVF6RU5QdyuNIqLkFewkW4nrNh7VUX0zyn5Ku2NrxSz0f4CSZOyUax99nRnP8gW93xOgTlrJV/s320/Gene%252CShirley+and+Anne%252C+Potlatch%252C+1943+%25282%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRdJCa6HPzmiqz0wTV8V7o6qF1w1QXAvhgoSVHTBqwYQ6K4whbS3KuziY67pbV50_TzMV8_XgZo-rb5q_qoTUxGiXLc0f839yP21Pd0LJ3t_ydjZTuttQ88iX_3ncnlZHu05aZdnJcvMCh/s1600/Gene+Shirley+and+Anne+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="979" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRdJCa6HPzmiqz0wTV8V7o6qF1w1QXAvhgoSVHTBqwYQ6K4whbS3KuziY67pbV50_TzMV8_XgZo-rb5q_qoTUxGiXLc0f839yP21Pd0LJ3t_ydjZTuttQ88iX_3ncnlZHu05aZdnJcvMCh/s200/Gene+Shirley+and+Anne+%25282%2529.jpg" width="121" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic59iCBt1Fm50AaQcjzqq3xt1DbiamhB3X3Q87dmqyL57bNF_ENwvPE4mLSrmkzcxu5IghmQxByHlfmx0Px2SgbkATuzIKWQbF2uQ0GxNoc3ngW9d2u46xcTTtRyDiIkLkQ7l1mATxVuua/s1600/Anne+and+Bill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1462" data-original-width="1001" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic59iCBt1Fm50AaQcjzqq3xt1DbiamhB3X3Q87dmqyL57bNF_ENwvPE4mLSrmkzcxu5IghmQxByHlfmx0Px2SgbkATuzIKWQbF2uQ0GxNoc3ngW9d2u46xcTTtRyDiIkLkQ7l1mATxVuua/s320/Anne+and+Bill.jpg" width="218" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anne & Bill</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I am not sure if Bill chased Anne or allowed himself to be
caught. He was her devoted boyfriend
much to my father’s chagrin. Bill was a
year older than Dad…and perhaps Dad wasn’t quite ready to see his little sister
go out with an older guy. Bill and Anne
always pushed the limits of her curfew and there was many a time that they
spent so much time staying goodbye on the porch that Dad had to get up and dig
Bill’s car out of the driveway because he had gotten stuck because of the
snow or mud. There was even a time when the two
lovebirds were showered with snow – they didn’t know until years later that Dad
helped it along. After all it was too
cold to walk out to the outhouse!<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEt0wizBud5EvIEaunsMmlx7kffe1mbohLRHDgpGTOR33PKOUjMV97oosycWQRa82DpDq1_0-d5llttslkrkojcS2ZPvXf1or37LEu7Z9LOYwCJQLPtOaLi89FGrSsS6bD5hNcqtUB-s-H/s1600/Anne+and+Bill%2527s+wedding.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1570" data-original-width="1600" height="313" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEt0wizBud5EvIEaunsMmlx7kffe1mbohLRHDgpGTOR33PKOUjMV97oosycWQRa82DpDq1_0-d5llttslkrkojcS2ZPvXf1or37LEu7Z9LOYwCJQLPtOaLi89FGrSsS6bD5hNcqtUB-s-H/s320/Anne+and+Bill%2527s+wedding.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anne & Bill's Wedding</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My grandparents allowed Anne & Bill to get married when
she was 15 – Grandma said that she knew if she didn’t then Anne would have
presented her a grandchild in short order.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>So in June 1958, Anne and Bill were married at St Mary’s church in
Potlatch, ID and just over a year later that first grandchild arrived (Billy)
then the following year, Rod, and the next year Kenny.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She took 1962 off and then had Alan in 1963
and Ronny in 1964.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anne loved nothing
more than being a mother and a wife.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi76v9f2UIxxvVD4tGWl6rr5c0On7jnIhaKAkPFQHwwlX0YHLu5VQT9Xl_Bi8FGMylwrFXnnRFHZPUwqcPwvyzI3AhieVDpEdZAJ6sm-k5Lb6NF3z6BCCoiP-zwtBVInlmVeRwW0K9D2WLq/s1600/Bell+Boys.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1561" data-original-width="1600" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi76v9f2UIxxvVD4tGWl6rr5c0On7jnIhaKAkPFQHwwlX0YHLu5VQT9Xl_Bi8FGMylwrFXnnRFHZPUwqcPwvyzI3AhieVDpEdZAJ6sm-k5Lb6NF3z6BCCoiP-zwtBVInlmVeRwW0K9D2WLq/s200/Bell+Boys.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anne & Bill's boys about 1965</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_4FF0p9l4gbSdmenDJJllxxxNZGLwq4Ny7mkVk3ojlyiUPtu95dBJMBalSaGX43qEsGyQ_6BodWBZVSvx-zxl0QKiZDRmRSesCy7BtFl7TVZpCXaH569c4A8qCPfzNAGBJTfvzY12fCep/s1600/P6220039+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_4FF0p9l4gbSdmenDJJllxxxNZGLwq4Ny7mkVk3ojlyiUPtu95dBJMBalSaGX43qEsGyQ_6BodWBZVSvx-zxl0QKiZDRmRSesCy7BtFl7TVZpCXaH569c4A8qCPfzNAGBJTfvzY12fCep/s320/P6220039+%25282%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bill, Rod, Kenny, Ronny - 2008</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
She
adored her husband’s parents and treated them with the same love and affection
as she did her own parents.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bill was an
only child and his parents embraced Anne as a beloved daughter and they adored
their grandsons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anne always wanted a
little girl – but she wouldn’t have traded her boys for anything in the
world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Life couldn’t remain that idyllic
for long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In 1982, when the boys were
all home celebrating their parents and grandparents wedding anniversary, a fire
swept through the house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The only one
who didn’t make it out of the house was Alan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Bill almost destroyed<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>himself
trying to get in the house and get him out but to no avail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Alan died of smoke inhalation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am not sure that was a loss that Anne and
Bill ever recovered from.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know that
Anne told me on many occasions that you never get over it, you just learn to
live with it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anne also had to be the
rock for Bill and her boys – they remained the center of her life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing was ever more important to her than
her family.<br />
<o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDJpPbyxH65-XFLIcYg4Fp7f6oC4LyR2bJ1XbHEP1p6Zd8ykj_lgciF5qFYHYFL6qxCMysSVOwvC_VzA3E-99IZo-TCzgWS-T2i1m9oS1fep2gA0Ia6nvmWjp53b7613Twdwe2ODe_ntDm/s1600/Marian+Gage+Johnson+B-day+-+Bell+Fam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1054" data-original-width="1600" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDJpPbyxH65-XFLIcYg4Fp7f6oC4LyR2bJ1XbHEP1p6Zd8ykj_lgciF5qFYHYFL6qxCMysSVOwvC_VzA3E-99IZo-TCzgWS-T2i1m9oS1fep2gA0Ia6nvmWjp53b7613Twdwe2ODe_ntDm/s320/Marian+Gage+Johnson+B-day+-+Bell+Fam.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bell Family - 2000 - Grandma Marian's 80th Birthday</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anne never had that girl she always wanted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She did try to live a little vicariously with
her nieces.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am sure all of us have
memories of her wanting to play with our hair while we wanted to be out playing
with the boys.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think Anne got her own
back though…out of the twelve<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>grandchildren, eight of them are girls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You can tell that Anne has left her stamp on all of them because I can
see bits of her in every one of them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh98Lums_Q_ce_SbJ7wdjZi50XYiyhwUCphf5_4KoLaSBvmczANUie_hSQGxgO2jfw4NunNCP37XkEHRLRlziXZVEe9o98apWVqQMxz4oKbsCiuC_gTw_nJCQ2xvAXP7i4bb0v1MNo8CpRH/s1600/MGJ-BD-201-Bell+Grp.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1147" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh98Lums_Q_ce_SbJ7wdjZi50XYiyhwUCphf5_4KoLaSBvmczANUie_hSQGxgO2jfw4NunNCP37XkEHRLRlziXZVEe9o98apWVqQMxz4oKbsCiuC_gTw_nJCQ2xvAXP7i4bb0v1MNo8CpRH/s320/MGJ-BD-201-Bell+Grp.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bell Family 2012</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As I sit here and think about Anne…there are a wealth of
memories to sift through.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anne has
always been a part of my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was
always close to her…but we became especially close during my college years to
the present.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I loved to go over and
visit her at the cafeteria at the University of Idaho where she worked as a
cook.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were many family reunions that
included picnics, weddings and funerals where Anne and Bill were always there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t think Anne and Bill missed one family
gathering if they could help it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When
Mom and I got involved in genealogy, Anne became our compadre.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We spent many hours discussing and analyzing
anything and everything that we found. Mom, Dad, Anne & Bill as well as
their granddaughter Angela, my niece Ashlie traveled back to North
Dakota in 1999 or so.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We hit some of the
important spots along the way like Yellowstone, Devil’s Tower and Mount
Rushmore, but our real goal was to meet some cousins in Washburn, ND and see if
we could figure out where Grandma was buried.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I will never forget our adventures.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I can still picture Bill walking his granddaughter’s cat on a leash.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In my mind’s eye, I can see <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>our cousin Sheryll, my Mom, Betty, and Anne
sitting in the living room pouring through pictures.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then my grandmother joined our little group (she moved to
Idaho in 2001).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were untold hours
spent on family stories and family histories.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Unlike many families, we spent a lot of time talking about what our
family had experienced during the last several hundred years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anne always figured that I had our family
figured out so she was working on figuring out what she could about Bill’s
family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We never stopped our family
search.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We shared our frustrations and
triumphs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We also shared our sorrows
when my Mom died in 2005, Grandma Marian in 2011, her Bill a few months later
in 2012<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and Shirley in 2015.Perhaps the hardest cross she had to bear was
the loss of her beloved Kenny this past January.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No one should ever have to face the loss of
child and Anne had lost two of them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
last time Anne and I had time alone we talked about her facing death.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As expected, she was rather matter of fact
about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anne liked to say that she
slept with two angels every night, Bill at the head of her bed and Alan at the
foot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She smiled and said that Kenny had
squeezed in there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anne’s pain is over
and now she is reunited with her angels and all those that she has loved and
missed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I know Anne, after she has
greeted everyone – she has some questions and she will finally be where she
will get her answers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Next time I find
something interesting…I will have to wonder if Anne found something out and is
letting me know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just wish it was in
person.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi9cqJINMxxwr7GiQScQUxRhHEPNGXwTQbwMY-xNiz8KGsD4PpQF34ycmSpFAW7S5rF1idycg51x0i5AJ9dLfR-na1SrNwkN8fC76aw4jB7D7tYzkfLvkph8J1keP9xXMzNKC5yWPp_snE/s1600/Gene%252CShirley%252CAnne+and+Frank+at+Mothers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="578" data-original-width="336" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi9cqJINMxxwr7GiQScQUxRhHEPNGXwTQbwMY-xNiz8KGsD4PpQF34ycmSpFAW7S5rF1idycg51x0i5AJ9dLfR-na1SrNwkN8fC76aw4jB7D7tYzkfLvkph8J1keP9xXMzNKC5yWPp_snE/s320/Gene%252CShirley%252CAnne+and+Frank+at+Mothers.jpg" width="186" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Frank with Gene, Shirley & Anne in front</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Here are some pictures of Anne with her siblings!</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi17_8iaZrzq9sU7OyWVGb-ymd0r3BAwztmIm6BbwUyFz6hdWumMZBaqHiGnynDugCfTTHwct48n0K5x3RplFlfkCwO0Y34rKQmOJ94ha7HocxDgZktYN2_HJiBKz0Ax18CmDaRWZIYJLNx/s1600/Mother%2527s+Day+%25285%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi17_8iaZrzq9sU7OyWVGb-ymd0r3BAwztmIm6BbwUyFz6hdWumMZBaqHiGnynDugCfTTHwct48n0K5x3RplFlfkCwO0Y34rKQmOJ94ha7HocxDgZktYN2_HJiBKz0Ax18CmDaRWZIYJLNx/s320/Mother%2527s+Day+%25285%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mother's day 2011 - Left to right - Fran, Anne, Marian, Gene, MaryKay & Shirley</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-cba_0_JqW7qIemxtO7hl1rfjNv0OP39RuJ82uWZaQY83-vm-dCWzgyzQvOFvIN0JUkVQkRdp_4VzOAl_tfi-DCj7OH4XCD7tc70ySH0Ok-glH7RqZar0gIFOxVvRt3DpfoHUNJmqqdMl/s1600/Johnson+Fam+1975+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="821" data-original-width="788" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-cba_0_JqW7qIemxtO7hl1rfjNv0OP39RuJ82uWZaQY83-vm-dCWzgyzQvOFvIN0JUkVQkRdp_4VzOAl_tfi-DCj7OH4XCD7tc70ySH0Ok-glH7RqZar0gIFOxVvRt3DpfoHUNJmqqdMl/s320/Johnson+Fam+1975+%25282%2529.jpg" width="307" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Left to Right - Shirley, Fran, Marian, Gene, MaryKay & Anne - 1975</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigPOlY6djqy0baVWTJqJEPmn1uU0HrTMEsqe2XARht_A4M99pCoB_JoU4YamGyV9w-lXMvmD587yuwYoe8j3nYJcp2toayvBYI58KTJ2gGTn-w9wdgR83FIQ26BZMnRnBfjjYAMK3QFF5A/s1600/The+Little+Girls+and+Lady+with+her+puppies+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="530" data-original-width="640" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigPOlY6djqy0baVWTJqJEPmn1uU0HrTMEsqe2XARht_A4M99pCoB_JoU4YamGyV9w-lXMvmD587yuwYoe8j3nYJcp2toayvBYI58KTJ2gGTn-w9wdgR83FIQ26BZMnRnBfjjYAMK3QFF5A/s320/The+Little+Girls+and+Lady+with+her+puppies+%25282%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">MaryKay, Anne, Fran & Shirley</td></tr>
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This is a particular favorite of mine. You can see the pride in all of their faces. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0TvIg-WD3mIQq3brps5Yxmom1HmaaFBoGJoCNVPnBkQ2371QqXyLbSZhyphenhyphenPv-mozmc7TH9PzXwUaFxp2KfIF7Ph_uBWH5Mh1IHMPyxLUTK3slFWTHLSGlZ_2fPCb3ZahtBOv5v1pxEdXgQ/s1600/PB020051.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1172" data-original-width="1600" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0TvIg-WD3mIQq3brps5Yxmom1HmaaFBoGJoCNVPnBkQ2371QqXyLbSZhyphenhyphenPv-mozmc7TH9PzXwUaFxp2KfIF7Ph_uBWH5Mh1IHMPyxLUTK3slFWTHLSGlZ_2fPCb3ZahtBOv5v1pxEdXgQ/s320/PB020051.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anne with son, Kenny, granddaughter Rikki, grandson Brayden and mother Marian</td></tr>
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<br />CarmenMJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12928765351501514151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3448423006815238271.post-58275117704531316602019-02-05T12:18:00.003-08:002019-02-06T08:49:22.713-08:00Goodbye Uncle Orland!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEZ4-5OgmIubkIVI4NkaMBd2r5EwiXy5jMci8_Uvbs0FT-idnDN7IQrshutRsq5OYD2lNEkWUeh2F9g7AoDKpXRCzq8xWfxoHqbZ7eFCLTzJ797usosn2wFUHo_L6C3_Tf6fIgwTqYTWTt/s1600/Orland%2526Marian.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1114" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEZ4-5OgmIubkIVI4NkaMBd2r5EwiXy5jMci8_Uvbs0FT-idnDN7IQrshutRsq5OYD2lNEkWUeh2F9g7AoDKpXRCzq8xWfxoHqbZ7eFCLTzJ797usosn2wFUHo_L6C3_Tf6fIgwTqYTWTt/s320/Orland%2526Marian.jpg" width="222" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Orland with Marian - abt 1920</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We lost Uncle Orland last week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ever since I have been trying to verbalize my
thoughts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Orland lived a long and full
life and at a 100 years age had experienced much of what life has to
offer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were unusually close, partly
because he was my godfather and my parents always had a close
relationship.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We became closer when
Orland started using a computer because I was his tech support…it has been a
few years since I got a phone call and heard his voice saying “Carm, I got a
problem!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixFFEFyXbNSMyoWauXcMzXxJlyVNiSC83xm7VnqqQbGl7LjZToTJtEkpmFlgcYGat4GnhJBlR3352UVRWocESPbvseEiAv1aLd6M7g0BpIAKAjD3txx_M2NzRDGTCGcNq8JzDVzHCq4MQb/s1600/60th+Anniv.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1140" data-original-width="1600" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixFFEFyXbNSMyoWauXcMzXxJlyVNiSC83xm7VnqqQbGl7LjZToTJtEkpmFlgcYGat4GnhJBlR3352UVRWocESPbvseEiAv1aLd6M7g0BpIAKAjD3txx_M2NzRDGTCGcNq8JzDVzHCq4MQb/s320/60th+Anniv.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back Left: Don, Duane, Byron, Pauline, Marian, Orland, Bernard<br />
Front Left: Norma, Florence, Ora & Elaine - 65th Wedding Anniversary of Florence & Ora - 1983</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Orland was the oldest of ten children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You might say that he took that role
seriously as being the oldest brother and son to my great grandparents.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was born in Mapleton, IA and lived there
on the family farm until he was 14 years old.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Orland spent a lot of time working with his grandfather (George
Christian Shawver) as well as his own father.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That time was precious to Orland and those memories were some he
treasured his entire life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYGSvg3RQ_g1kcm0BVsQ-BdMBkxvhF87SNsd-cvfbqiDgYF4cYkdk5rWjdoN9yEO-IeqOV4uvaUIAapdz8vutbCt7HMTmKlEzv9lV3ORiAY00Os7ptWhG0IhYjrxwc4S-QKW9arUYYa2dy/s1600/Carmen-Baptismw-Orland%2526Patti.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1325" data-original-width="1600" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYGSvg3RQ_g1kcm0BVsQ-BdMBkxvhF87SNsd-cvfbqiDgYF4cYkdk5rWjdoN9yEO-IeqOV4uvaUIAapdz8vutbCt7HMTmKlEzv9lV3ORiAY00Os7ptWhG0IhYjrxwc4S-QKW9arUYYa2dy/s320/Carmen-Baptismw-Orland%2526Patti.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Baptism - 1967 - Orland & Patti</td></tr>
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<span style="background: white; color: #181a1c;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">My close connection with Orland goes back to my
baptism. Orland and his daughter Patti
were my godparents. I always received
cards and gifts from Orland and Patti and they have been both been a treasured
part of my life. In the late 90’s Orland
discovered the computer and utilized both my Mom and I as tech support. I spent many hours with him showing him how
to scan photos, work with Excel, use Word and anything else that came to
mind. In fact, I spent a lot of time
with both Orland and my grandmother, Marian doing the same type of
activities. When I hear someone tell me
that they are too old to work with computers, I know better because Orland and
Grandma proved otherwise. I also heard a
lot of stories about his childhood and life.
There were many times during my research that I have had a question and
was able to ask both Orland and my grandmother for information. After my grandmother moved back to Idaho in
2001, it was so much fun to listen to the two of them visit and squabble like
the siblings they were. Mom and I even
had to make arrangements when we were both gone on a vacation in 2004. We told Orland that if he had an issue, he
was to call my brother. We also warned
my brother that a call might be coming.
Sure enough, Orland had to call Bub…I remember seeing my nephew chatting
with someone on the computer when he was about 10. I found out that it was Orland. Alex complained that his typing was really
slow and I told him to give him a break – the last time he had a typing class
was probably when graduated from high school in 1939.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #181a1c; font-family: inherit;">I have been so lucky</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #181a1c;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> to have had a very
close relationship with my great uncle.
We became friends as well as family.
I was so lucky to hear many stories that I am sure that I will use in my
blogs to come. I am going to do my best
not to mourn his loss. He lived a long
and healthy life full of friends and family.
Orland was </span>fortunate<span style="font-family: inherit;"> to grow up in a very close family that remained
close until his passing last week. I
know that he had a tremendous amount of respect for his parents. Orland like to tell the story that after his
father died at 98 years of age, there was an unopened package of underwear in
his drawer that his mother gave him.
Orland took them home and put them in his drawer unopened. He said that “he still wasn’t man enough to
wear his father’s underwear!” When
Orland came home from World War II or Korea (I don’t remember which one) he bought his mother a rose. That rose was moved every time my great grandparents
moved which was several times. After
they passed, Orland moved the rose to his yard in a place of honor. The last time I visited with Orland for any
period of time was at his 100</span></span><sup style="background-color: white; color: #181a1c; font-family: inherit;">th</sup><span style="background-color: white; color: #181a1c; font-family: inherit;"> birthday party. I showed him some pictures from negatives
that included a photo of his parents. Orland
had the sweetest smile on his face, remembering his parents.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWQdfcvpuGZP6bICLqdGnmu9qXNEPhvQq3EpOoFCvRpA6BPZSS9JC3ACDGU3_aDe3V_AJOOW14b-CaeUtWzJU1JeGO49Oxpci3iLn9p1qsGRA-h5K1Ymvx7Oby4_KaW_m_acaAiaN51IHu/s1600/20180930_152653.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWQdfcvpuGZP6bICLqdGnmu9qXNEPhvQq3EpOoFCvRpA6BPZSS9JC3ACDGU3_aDe3V_AJOOW14b-CaeUtWzJU1JeGO49Oxpci3iLn9p1qsGRA-h5K1Ymvx7Oby4_KaW_m_acaAiaN51IHu/s320/20180930_152653.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Orland's 100th birthday - Carmen & Eugene Johnson <br />
pictured with Orland - 2018</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">So our family and his friends are going to say goodbye to
Orland in a few days. Some won’t be able
to be there but everyone will miss him at the family reunions and all the other
family occasions that we have had through the years. When you look at his lifespan it is pretty
remarkable. Orland’s parents were born
in the 1890’s, grandparents in the 1850’s and 1860’s and he knew his great
grandmother who was born in 1844. Orland
was born in 1918 and he had several great, great, great </span>nieces<span style="font-family: inherit;"> and nephews and
some of them are old enough to remember him. He leaves behind his daughter and grandchildren and a whole lot more whose lives he touched in so many ways. Orland was the last living World War II veteran in our family and truly
was a member of the “Greatest Generation!” </span></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglzKPWXrDno0GR4F7Pji3dGsB0tnVHDypYeYR-CF9z6bLCAZcXy1IHlhW-oFYIiSsq5qvDehfsN3siPSiR9GwDhIJFUM_LwN0SAHvNJU2P-n2x_Ovue7JgLQaewemrOYtX0x3QF9o5vMxj/s1600/Orland-Jim-Duane+-IANG+Reuion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="323" data-original-width="480" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglzKPWXrDno0GR4F7Pji3dGsB0tnVHDypYeYR-CF9z6bLCAZcXy1IHlhW-oFYIiSsq5qvDehfsN3siPSiR9GwDhIJFUM_LwN0SAHvNJU2P-n2x_Ovue7JgLQaewemrOYtX0x3QF9o5vMxj/s320/Orland-Jim-Duane+-IANG+Reuion.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Orland with brothers Duane (left) & Byron (right) at National Guard Reunion</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnUZIFv7NeISOW9sVn4uvKbAme5ZNwmYxfLnVkYMXtcme2ie-b4C5phuxHYYLBXY-eq1Xm3FJ9ED0UgWWPaPkfcvxqqPnm2WWbyeQF6f63o1tLBlRTNK8z7tyF5lHsN51vfTnYQofHCxef/s1600/OrlandGageFam1949.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1058" data-original-width="1600" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnUZIFv7NeISOW9sVn4uvKbAme5ZNwmYxfLnVkYMXtcme2ie-b4C5phuxHYYLBXY-eq1Xm3FJ9ED0UgWWPaPkfcvxqqPnm2WWbyeQF6f63o1tLBlRTNK8z7tyF5lHsN51vfTnYQofHCxef/s320/OrlandGageFam1949.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Orland holding Patti and Eileen & Mike - 1949</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="979" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDzGCn5hRrQ7obmcsnzFKTco3lStcg1TAg9U_ZafnP_n0HtaOTKxBR6mOF0ykuT2mfQtDrYkJNP7YKc2JSLLJ6pF556o1NPWuvHCehwbhH8vQdjhkmqvbwv2jvhoGw7Eo3KCVUDxX07Xh3/s320/Orland-Bun.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="195" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bernard & Orland - Returning from WWII</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDzGCn5hRrQ7obmcsnzFKTco3lStcg1TAg9U_ZafnP_n0HtaOTKxBR6mOF0ykuT2mfQtDrYkJNP7YKc2JSLLJ6pF556o1NPWuvHCehwbhH8vQdjhkmqvbwv2jvhoGw7Eo3KCVUDxX07Xh3/s1600/Orland-Bun.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br /></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDzGCn5hRrQ7obmcsnzFKTco3lStcg1TAg9U_ZafnP_n0HtaOTKxBR6mOF0ykuT2mfQtDrYkJNP7YKc2JSLLJ6pF556o1NPWuvHCehwbhH8vQdjhkmqvbwv2jvhoGw7Eo3KCVUDxX07Xh3/s1600/Orland-Bun.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>CarmenMJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12928765351501514151noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3448423006815238271.post-35247769907714654952019-01-10T13:42:00.001-08:002019-01-10T13:42:11.054-08:00The Brother I Never Wanted I have had an argument with my cousin, Kenny for about 30 years. He made a beautiful dollhouse for his daughter. It was constructed piece by piece by Kenny’s patient hands. It was an incredibly detailed Victorian themed house with a beautiful turret in the corner. According to Kenny – that was a tower because a turret was something that came out of tank. I told Kenny that it was called a turret when it was cone shaped feature on a Victorian house. Kenny told me to “Go lay down by my dish!” Only Kenny could get away with saying something so insulting and making it sound almost like an endearment.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6jwW4lmpzqC1FDJnJeJZyA2K9sDBr-z7Yv8uf1LMsK3tb1gzqrRJX37W-3q7Ub9I1LUtY-B-H-MsrGtQGoTlVce-QeM4foYa7IWs9pmljuZPYEjUIr3DViAyuYiqC2g_lvOkzM-W8fsEi/s1600/Five+Bell+boy%2527s+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1596" data-original-width="1600" height="319" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6jwW4lmpzqC1FDJnJeJZyA2K9sDBr-z7Yv8uf1LMsK3tb1gzqrRJX37W-3q7Ub9I1LUtY-B-H-MsrGtQGoTlVce-QeM4foYa7IWs9pmljuZPYEjUIr3DViAyuYiqC2g_lvOkzM-W8fsEi/s320/Five+Bell+boy%2527s+1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The 5 Bell Boys - Billy, Rodney, Kenny, Alan & Ron</td></tr>
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I am sure that I was a "pain in the ass" younger cousin. I can remember going up to my Aunt Anne and Uncle Bill's place and being stuck inside while my Aunt played with an actual female child. I really can't blame her - she was likely in testosterone "hell!" The only thing female oriented in the that house other than Anne was the doll on her bed that she had hoped to give to a daughter. Anne tried 5 times (maybe not on purpose), and ended up with five boys in 6 years. There were wonderful memories of sledding down the hillside by their home in Potlatch, ID.<br />
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Kenny was my parent's godson. His mischievous nature, twinkling eyes, charming personality and humor especially endeared him to my mother. He held a special spot in my Mom's heart. In the late 1980's, Kenny worked a few summers doing yard work for my folks. It was at that time that Kenny and I learned a few things about each other. Kenny told me that he always felt a little sorry for me because he thought I was picked on. I thought of him as yet another male cousin. Kenny then informed me that after watching me in action, he was pretty sure I wasn't picked on and that I gave as good as I got. He then decided that I was the sister he never wanted. I was more than happy to provide Kenny with some feedback on some of his idiotic male notions. It was good-natured on both sides and always remained so. A few years later, Kenny decided that he was going to go to college. By that point, I was a Senior at the University of Idaho and Kenny was an incoming Freshman. You might say it was a reversal of circumstances...I was the Senior at the University of Idaho and he was the incoming Freshman. Kenny was going through registration and he was still there when I showed up 2 hours later. My registration process took 10 minutes...as a Freshman, his was much more complicated. I helped him through and we left several minutes later. Kenny showed up to my apartment many times during the following months. He might have been helping me with something, or I was helping him. I cooked more than a few meals for him and he did several jobs fixing one thing or another. I conned him into going to see "Les Miserables" with me. Broadway musicals really weren't his thing...he was was much more fond of 70's rock.<br />
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It seemed that almost every time we saw each other at family
reunions or gatherings during the next few decades we renewed our argument about
the turret or tower. There was also a
lot of hugs, joking and conversation.
There were also more than a few phone calls that lasted over an
hour. Both of us reminiscing about the
past and talking about our families. We
had that cousinly bond…but it was much more.
I always got off the phone reminded at how deeply Kenny loved his wife,
his children and grandchildren. The bond
with his brothers was always there as well as that with his nieces and nephews. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Johnson's at Dad's 50th birthday - 1990</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tommy, David, Kenny & KC - Cousins</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kenny with Chris Johnson</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Left to Right - Billy, Rod, Kenny & Ron</td></tr>
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When my mother died, one of the first phone calls I got was
from Kenny.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t remember exactly…but
I think he couldn’t make it to the service.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It just about broke his heart because he adored my Mom – and it was
definitely reciprocated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember seeing
Kenny during the next several years and he was almost always taking care of
someone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes it was his Dad or Mom
or our Grandmother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Despite Kenny being such
a jokester, he had a caring heart and he used humor to offset tension.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is no
question that at times, it was inappropriate…but there was an expression used
in our family – “it was just Kenny!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When Kenny’s Dad died, he asked me to read something for he and his
brothers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He knew that he was asking me
to do something that would be hard for me to do – but he asked me because he
trusted me to do it the way he wanted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Kenny passed away on Sunday, January 6.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I heard the news from his mother, I had
to sit there for a while with tears rolling down my face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was never going to get that big bear hug
again or hear his teasing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kenny left a
wonderful legacy!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is not one
person who will ever forget him who knew him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>His brothers will always tell stories about the trouble they got into…his
nieces and nephews will always have a story about something stupid that Kenny taught
them to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kenny leaves behind a loving
wife and adoring children and grandchildren, a mother and brothers and their families who will do their best to continue
to keep Kenny present.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> There is also is his extended family. We have been blessed with a large family, but it is so hard to lose someone who was so beloved. </span>For as long as
anyone is alive who knew Kenny – there will be a funny story and knowing Kenny
that is exactly what he would have wanted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<br />CarmenMJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12928765351501514151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3448423006815238271.post-37324687747971685912018-08-17T22:34:00.002-07:002018-08-17T22:37:51.062-07:00Martha Pennington Gilley FamilyA census record is snapshot in a moment in time. My experience has taught me that sometimes we pay too much attention a detail and sometimes not enough. I was doing a bit of "wandering" in my database and took a closer look at Martha Pennington. She was the youngest daughter of Levi Pennington and Elizabeth Henson. Martha was born on 29 Mar 1843 in Hemlock, Ashe Co., NC and died on 21 Dec 1926 in Eldreth, Ashe Co., NC. She married a widower, Marshall Gilley on 21 Mar 1872. These are the basic dates of her life...but if you look a little closer, there is some interesting things to consider.<br /><br />Martha is the youngest of the 13 children of Levi Pennington and Elizabeth Henson. Everything looks pretty normal in the 1860 census. Martha is the only child still in the household with her parents and his recorded as a 18 year old. It is the the 1870 census where questions arise. Martha is recorded with her parents as his her brother, Daniel Pennington (Levi Daniel Pennington). However, there are two children also recorded - William Pennington as a 6 year old and Mary as 4 year old. You find in the the same two children in the 1880 census recorded with Marshall Gilley with the surname of Gilley. <br /><br />I would love to say that I knew this the whole time. I think I heard or knew about it when I first started looking more seriously at the census records. However, I didn't really go back and look at it more closely. Like most people, I don't really think about women of that area having children outside of marriage that seriously. Marshall married a Lucy Denny on 9 Oct 1866. I haven't been able to locate Marshall in the 1870 census and my supposition is that Lucy likely died sometime before 1872, as that is when Marshall and Martha Pennington get married. <br /><br />Marshall was born Apr 1835 to Francis Gilley and Dorcas Jones and died sometime between 1910 and 1920. Marshall was of an age to fight in the Civil War and like most in his area, he fought for the Confederacy. Marshall enlisted in Company 2nd B, North Carolina 32nd Infantry Regiment on 13 Mar 1864 as a Private. He also turns up on the list as a prisoner of war in Elmira prison in NY. So, if I look closely at the dates, Marshall likely left Martha Pennington pregnant before he went off to war (William) and perhaps when he arrived home (Mary or Mollie). So we are left to consider if Marshall is the father of Martha's children. They are listed as his children in the 1880 census. Since, we don't have access to the 1890 census, we are left with more questions than answers. According to census records, Marshall and Martha had the following children:<br /><br /><ul>
<li>William Pennington/Gilley b. 1864 d. aft 1920 </li>
<li>Mary/Mollie Pennington/Gilley b. 1867 d ? </li>
<li>Wilson Gilley 1 Jun 1873 d. 28 Dec 1936 m. Ollie Jane Osborne m. Nora Amanda Shaw </li>
<li>Amanda Elizabeth Gilley b. 4 Aug 1876 d. 6 Jan 1968 m. Winfield Kelly Harris </li>
<li>Olive Gilley b. 1876 d. 1879 (of a fall according to mortality schedule) </li>
<li>Adah Gilley b. 1883 d. ? </li>
</ul>
<br /> Here is why I am still a bit uncertain as to the names. The oldest son, William stays with the name of Pennington and is recorded as getting married to Mary Caroline Derham 27 Aug 1884. In the 1900 census, Mary is recorded with her maiden name and several children and William is recorded with his mother. Mary is recorded in the 1910 census and divorced and widowed in the 1920 census. William is listed as married in 1910 and widowed in 1920. Only one of the children lists William Pennington as her father in the records. It is also interesting to note that one of those children died in 1916 of tuberculosis. The father's name is listed as unknown and he is listed as white in the death record but "colored" or black on the burial record. Makes me wonder if there was something else going on. William stayed in Ashe Co., NC and is the informant on his mother's death record. I don't find him in the 1930 census, so I assume that he probably passed away.<br /><br />It seems that every few years you can learn a little more with the additional records that seem to be added. I suppose the only way we will ever know if William and Mary are Marshall's children is if it shows up in DNA records. It would be lovely if you could answer all the questions instead of finding more mysteries. I suppose that is why I enjoy genealogy so much, there is always more to the story and you are unlikely to ever discover the full story.CarmenMJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12928765351501514151noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3448423006815238271.post-84102533496295635122018-08-14T15:51:00.001-07:002018-08-14T15:53:23.124-07:00My Great Great Grandparents - Orlando Gage & Edith GallupMy great grandfather was a remarkable person. The man I knew had a bit of a gruff exterior, but put in a baby in his lap and he melted. I know him to have been an incredibly hard worker who supported his family during some of the darkest times of the last century. I knew him to be a man of courage, values and strength. It makes me think about the parents who gave him the foundation to be the man he was.<br />
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Ora Silas Gage was born 5 Apr 1892 in Esperance, Schenectady Co., NY. He was the second child of Orlando Gage and Edith Phoebe Gallup. I say he was the second child because his older brother, Allen died rather tragically at 22 months old. He had been in one of those toddler contraptions with wheels. Allen had walked under a table and stood up and hit a nail that was under the table and died. Needless to say, my great grandpa was very watchful of any babies walking under tables.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsVXhhPhs-UCkzRGnqHwynV-X2rh1KyV9r4KiIs2cf8byaHmxK4JQgkc7V1p5i_L7sIU6SwGTeNCqmrhqJHpF9xhE469cBN1C5doDjEGxie9l5hcmb210y24_JarFJRmG1kjKaLIXOQCm6/s1600/Orlando+Gage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="416" data-original-width="257" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsVXhhPhs-UCkzRGnqHwynV-X2rh1KyV9r4KiIs2cf8byaHmxK4JQgkc7V1p5i_L7sIU6SwGTeNCqmrhqJHpF9xhE469cBN1C5doDjEGxie9l5hcmb210y24_JarFJRmG1kjKaLIXOQCm6/s320/Orlando+Gage.jpg" width="197" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Orlando abt 1875</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3mjY4VYQJFxy7yr66WChyphenhyphen_QoajmxRn45AGwgEYa-hh1SN5-oUuS0926Ei3gmv3yahP_kv3Akqh_Fxe5a7zgT4MhCIVFYQKCe63lnwTD557Orz-9rPpWiJDHNkUeC9qX8dtCbNjyI06S8Z/s1600/Charity+Hotaling.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="445" data-original-width="296" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3mjY4VYQJFxy7yr66WChyphenhyphen_QoajmxRn45AGwgEYa-hh1SN5-oUuS0926Ei3gmv3yahP_kv3Akqh_Fxe5a7zgT4MhCIVFYQKCe63lnwTD557Orz-9rPpWiJDHNkUeC9qX8dtCbNjyI06S8Z/s320/Charity+Hotaling.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Charity abt 1875</td></tr>
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Orlando worked as a carpenter and as a farmer. He was born 2 Apr 1850 in Knox, Albany Co., NY to Gilbert and Phoebe Allen Gage. Orlando was the oldest of 5 children. His mother was 20 years old and his father was 26 years of age. I have thought that 1850 would have been a curious time to be born in this country. Orlando wouldn't have been old enough to fight in the Civil War but was old enough to understand what was going on. I suppose if had been in different circumstances, he probably could have slipped in when he was 14 years old. Gilbert was not a Civil War veteran either. I would suspect that he might have been more valuable as a farmer. Orlando married for the first time to Charity Ellen Hotaling on 12 Jan 1875 at the United Methodist Church in Delmar, NY. Charity was the 19 year old daughter of Michael Hotaling and Ellen Robertson. Orlando and Charity had the following children:<br />
<ul>
<li>Burton Latta Gage b. 8 Oct 1876 d. 27 Sept 1949 m. Bessie Margaret Young</li>
<li>Edwin Welsh Gage b. 7 Jun 1879 d. 3 May 1959 m. Flora Mae Sidney</li>
<li>Leroy James Gage b. 22 Dec 1880 d. 14 Oct 1910 m. Effie M. Butts</li>
<li>Nellie Mable Gage b. 10 Sept 1885 d. 11 Sept 1972 m. Harry John Lewis</li>
</ul>
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Charity died a few weeks after Nellie's birth on 9 Oct 1885. I don't know if she died of the after effects of childbirth or if her death was as a result of something else. Orlando was left with 4 children all under the age of 10. I believe that Nellie might have been left with her grandmother, Phebe Allen Gage. It is difficult to know for sure. She is recorded in the 1900 census with Phebe and her maternal grandparents passed away in 1891 & 1892, so they may not have been in the best of health. On 05 May 1886, Orlando married 26 year old spinster teacher, Edith Phoebe Gallup.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Edith Gallup - abt 1880?</td></tr>
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Edith Phoebe Gallup was born 28 Jan 1860 in Duanesburg, Schenectady Co., NY to Silas Gallup and Phoebe Ann Montanye. Edith was the eldest of 12 children and was born just 11 months after her parents eloped. Silas was the local schoolteacher and Phoebe was his 15 year old student. Supposedly a couple rang a bell to announce a marriage, since no one paid attention, they kept it secret until the end of the term. From what I have been able to gather, Edith boarded with some of her student's families and was a schoolteacher. She had likely been teaching close to 10 years when she married Orlando. I have to wonder if she hadn't been a teacher to one or two of Orlando's children. I think that we have a different view of marriage and parenting today that doesn't really fit that period of time. It must have been difficult for a widower to have four children, continue to take care of the farm work and work as a carpenter. So, when Orlando married Edith on 5 May 1886, there might have been more of what we might call a marriage of convenience. I know that 26 is considered to be somewhat older for a woman to marry for the first time, and Orlando certainly needed a mother figure for his rambunctious three boys. Edith probably also knew she would be quite alone as her family was planning on moving to Nebraska and she had no intention of going with them. In fact, Edith's family left New York for Nebraska and arrived on Thanksgiving day in 1887.<br />
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Here are the children that Orlando and Edith had:<br />
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Allen G. Gage b. 10 Dec 1888 d. 12 Oct 1890<br />
Ora Silas Gage b. 5 Apr 1892 d. 30 Dec 1990 m. Florence Christine Shawver<br />
Phebe Margaret Gage b. 23 Oct 1894 d. 28 July 1976 m. August Peterson<br />
Peter Z Gage b. 23 Oct 1894 d. 21 Nov 1983 m. Elizabeth Pearl Mathieson<br />
Alice Irene Gage b. 29 Mar 1896 d. 11 Sep 1976 m. Howard E Frey<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlg0dQacYUod8HXCg4cG6aQuG4p7OOxVkp0Li-8UpE8-XE5FqfQiKFBfGjuVfE87o2iBcp-qvCVdzTc8lh_LqlTH6MFI-Yu6ixEINQdPzIYpYrJw5lWAd3i2a6ooyFPOH4Y7IhHgUOx3Z7/s1600/Orlando+%2526+Edith+Gallup+Gage+and+Fam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="866" data-original-width="1273" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlg0dQacYUod8HXCg4cG6aQuG4p7OOxVkp0Li-8UpE8-XE5FqfQiKFBfGjuVfE87o2iBcp-qvCVdzTc8lh_LqlTH6MFI-Yu6ixEINQdPzIYpYrJw5lWAd3i2a6ooyFPOH4Y7IhHgUOx3Z7/s320/Orlando+%2526+Edith+Gallup+Gage+and+Fam.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gage Family - abt 1896</td></tr>
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I know there was the struggle of losing their oldest child. I also know that with the twins (Pete & Phebe) it was quite a struggle for a while. Pete was very small, only about 4 pounds. They kept him in a dresser drawer surrounded by clothes to keep him work. Thankfully he survived, although his growth must have been curtailed somewhat as he was quite short. Tall enough to be a soldier in World War I, though! Sometime around 1907, Edith had a severe fall. She was unable to do much more than sit in a chair. Here is a letter that she wrote to her mother in October 1907:<br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i><span style="color: purple; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>Transcription of a letter written by Edith Gallup Gage to her mother, Phebe Montanye Gallup.</b> October 23, 1907 Dear Mother: My twins are 13 years old today and a great deal of help to me. Monday night after school the girls washed a large washing besides getting supper. (I don't pretend to do anything only what I can do sitting down.) Tuesday morning they rinsed and starch the clothes done, did the morning work even to making beds and mopping and got things ready for dinner. They baked (2 apple pies) and got to school in time they were up at half past four. Orlando killed 5 pigs yesterday, 4 for market. They only dressed 102 lbs. a price. We kept one, sold them at Esperance and got 9 cents a lbs. They were late pigs, the last of April and only skim milk, so it was not so bad. He thrashed in the afternoon, earning $5 and moved his machine today. He is digging potatoes for us. He won't have any nuts to send to send you as the squirrels and friends of ours are taking them when the children are gone. Orlando is away thrashing and I can't stop them. I can only teeter backward and forward when I try to walk so I don't try much any more, the sides, back, and belly burns like fire when I try although the flesh feels ice cold, Orlando says, when you touch it. I do not feel heat nor cold just comfortable when I lay still that is something to be thankful and I do not worry. It will be and is all for the best. I hope you are better. Here is a slip of a pretty red geranium. It is near time for the mail so I must quit with love to all. Edith</span></i></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "source sans pro" , "helvetica neue" , "arial" , sans-serif;">On 08 Jan 1908, Edith died of lobar pneumonia after suffering what her death certificate called chronic myelitis (duration of 7 months). She was 47 years old. I have been told that Orlando took care of his wife, arranged her funeral and died himself a few days later on 16 Jan 1908 at the age of 57. Orlando also died of lobar pneumonia. Here is a transcription of an obit that his pastor, Rev N McLeod wrote:</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>After brief illness of pneumonia and within a week after the
death of his wife from pneumonia, elder Orlando Gage passed to his rewards Jan
19, 1908. His death caused deep sorrow
in the community and especially in the church and ??? where he was a member and
regular attendant.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>He was born in Knox, NY Apr 2, 1850.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In early life he learned and followed the trade
of carpenter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He lived for some time in
Albany and was an attendant at the West End Presbyterian Church.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>He married Miss Charity Ellen Hotaling of Clarkesville, NY,
from where four children were born, viz, Burton L, Edwin W, Leroy J, and Nellie
Mabel, now Mr. Harry Lewis.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>Mrs. Gage died Oct 9, 1885 while residing in Knox.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>Soon after, Mr. Gage married Miss Edith Gallup of Duanesburg,
NY from whom were born five children viz Allen, who died when 22 months old,
Ora Silas, Peter Z and Phoebe Margaret, twins, and Alice Irene.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mr. Gage (with his wife) united with the
Church at Esperance, Mary 26, 1891 and was ordained an Elder May 8, 1898, which
office he filled till his death.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was
a brother beloved in the Church and the community.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>The following Resolution was enacted by the session of the
Presbyterian church, Esperance Apr 4, 1908.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>Whereas, since last we met, death has claimed our beloved
co-worker, Elder Orlando Gage Jan 16, 1908, after a brief illness pneumonia.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>That, we sorrowfully record our loss and hereby express our appreciation
of his character and efficient service
since uniting with this church.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>That We Express to the family, bereft of both father and
mothers within one week, our sympathy and prayers that the God of their parents
may be their God, and that they may find comfort in his sustaining grace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>May a copy be sent to the committee and the clergy in Albany
Presbyterian.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="color: purple; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Signed Rev N McLeod</i></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I really never heard my great grandfather talk about the time after his parents died. I don't know who they stayed with - but I do know that perhaps it was within days or even weeks my 15 year old great grandfather escorted his siblings to their maternal grandmother in Nebraska. After leaving them there, he struck off on his own. However, that is a different story!</span></div>
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CarmenMJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12928765351501514151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3448423006815238271.post-15512065092656606142018-07-17T14:05:00.003-07:002018-07-17T14:05:42.378-07:00US-1978 - Our Family Vacation<br />
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1978 was a banner year for our family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My parents took us on an unforgettable trip
around the United States.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I would love to say that we had a ton of pictures...not really. Film wasn't cheap back then. Our clothes look horrible (1970's remember???) The only photos I can find of my Mom is her facing away. She would haunt me if posted pictures online of her backside. </span>Traveling
around in a pickup camper with 3 teenagers and one preteen sounds like a
nightmare for most parents, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>however, it
was one of the most memorable and wonderful trip you could imagine.</div>
<o:p></o:p><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitUPRV4LrXctrPqOPqePJey50KDsL7jbuWbuTTIJIm-kNjyoWr6S2StNk9ASVYcR1GxpnriFG7ZDR8UUtqIs211TgGUPARFlR7mcNNqchUj3k7YXAclw-FKkB0rTv5WyFHH6T5enNhRD-t/s1600/Truck%2526Camper-1977.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1337" data-original-width="1329" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitUPRV4LrXctrPqOPqePJey50KDsL7jbuWbuTTIJIm-kNjyoWr6S2StNk9ASVYcR1GxpnriFG7ZDR8UUtqIs211TgGUPARFlR7mcNNqchUj3k7YXAclw-FKkB0rTv5WyFHH6T5enNhRD-t/s320/Truck%2526Camper-1977.jpg" width="318" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Pickup & camper at Crater Lake - 1978</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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My Mom was an organizer at heart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She spent months researching through atlas’s,
writing for information, and planning for this trip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My parents bought a new truck and camper.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think that was the first new truck my Dad
had ever had, and he had it for over 27 years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We took the truck and camper for a trial run on spring break that year
and went down to the California Redwoods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We stopped at Crater Lake on the way home and the snow was clear up to
the top on the sides of the road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was
quite a trip on its own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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As the first of June crept closer, my Mom turned it on high
gear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All of us had duffel bags, and Mom
supervised our packing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We couldn’t take
too much – weight on the camper was an important consideration.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mom went through the camper and only packed a
certain number of utensils, plates, glasses, bowls, etc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This might have been the only time that she
didn’t over-pack.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everything had its place,
and everything had to be put away at all times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>As the youngest and a girl, I slept in the bunk bed over the table, my
oldest sibling Gwenda slept on the table bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My oldest brother, Bub, slept on the floor, and my other brother Chris
slept in the cab of the truck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My
parents had the overhead bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When we
were traveling on the road, my sister and I spent most of our time to the table
and my brother took over the overhead bed on top of the truck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am not sure anyone is allowed to even ride
in a camper nowadays and I know that they can’t be on the camper bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, this was 1978, and there were
different rules.<o:p></o:p></div>
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As we set out, the rules were very clear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No squabbling!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our first stops were in Montana at the “Battle
of the Little Bighorn”, Devils Tower in Wyoming, the Badlands in South Dakota
and Mt Rushmore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think my brothers and
Dad were most interested in the “Battle of the Little Bighorn” national
monument, I am not sure, but I wonder if the visit to the Badlands was for
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was so fascinated with geology.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had a rock collection and had even dabbled
a bit at trying to polish them with a kit I got for Christmas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Badlands was the most memorable for me on
that first part of the trip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We then
traveled down through Iowa and had the misfortune to have a few tires
blow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While we got them replaced, it cut
into our “time!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As Dad was off for 4
weeks and we had a long way to go, Mom and Dad made the decision to cut off
Boston and New York because we had already lost too much time.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGwyfYhYY2qEXYM5HSpBfx2ETr9pyvL7UeLPxM5cwwwbUdo1N0L2q9ajElIU64EgXcq-GGnqcrXCLjwGKCSAMUCFgK0VdRHpQiei5pgm1wmemw8yk-rmq0EbdnGpVZxJhyphenhyphenGZ5C5bIbrAQ2/s1600/20180716_213036.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1242" data-original-width="1600" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGwyfYhYY2qEXYM5HSpBfx2ETr9pyvL7UeLPxM5cwwwbUdo1N0L2q9ajElIU64EgXcq-GGnqcrXCLjwGKCSAMUCFgK0VdRHpQiei5pgm1wmemw8yk-rmq0EbdnGpVZxJhyphenhyphenGZ5C5bIbrAQ2/s320/20180716_213036.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Badlands - Me (Carmen) lost in wonder</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXivoD9Z5AijE2vZdE07O3iL4K7Xe40PIXgQl_KZ9ACZDVn3GTQ-kiVHuumfGTq8M5lbNR_XbF3rM9IxoHZcLbc_LeKolyywkxWzskbu4szXMIm7WAN5Jf8KVarEvkElChOQsaW6tBRxEP/s1600/20180716_213057.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1594" data-original-width="1600" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXivoD9Z5AijE2vZdE07O3iL4K7Xe40PIXgQl_KZ9ACZDVn3GTQ-kiVHuumfGTq8M5lbNR_XbF3rM9IxoHZcLbc_LeKolyywkxWzskbu4szXMIm7WAN5Jf8KVarEvkElChOQsaW6tBRxEP/s320/20180716_213057.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Left to Right - Chris, Bub, Gwenda, Dad aka Gene me in front.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<o:p></o:p><br />
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I have memories of driving through Ohio and having to stop
and pay on toll road, which isn’t something I had ever seen in the west.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We stopped at Gettysburg and spent quite a
bit of time going through the battlefield.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I had memorized the Gettysburg address just the year before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzD0EUZrs9gTNCwcIu78k2vT4swj2EVh5_axhsrCCZysyihgtxb0CWprPG5DWKMGcOZlqkkjOr8HACHAtEqKWFLXdE9JcFdbCnFKvn6hESTGqjxnEdmRBSdII9oKfRbuAfuHmv8BfFN801/s1600/20180716_213253.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1413" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzD0EUZrs9gTNCwcIu78k2vT4swj2EVh5_axhsrCCZysyihgtxb0CWprPG5DWKMGcOZlqkkjOr8HACHAtEqKWFLXdE9JcFdbCnFKvn6hESTGqjxnEdmRBSdII9oKfRbuAfuHmv8BfFN801/s320/20180716_213253.jpg" width="282" /></a></span></div>
I wish I had realized the significance of
what we were seeing at the time, but I have say I certainly remember it
well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We then went over to Valley
Forge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Very little was original to the
time period of the Revolutionary War, which was disappointing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We made our way to Philadelphia and got to
see the Independence Hall and touch the Liberty Bell.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Remember this was 1978)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA6TepVIND8kvzSuWZVgW1e1MGT8Mhv11n_1COCiqhXEvUrZallZgv5UMQ59oPQY661GMDNvy0Yhrb3KUJDKZvc6i1JepmrZ-axkwrw8WJB_olL94udcbnS0dcEchhNA9S8IqTAMGJvVlz/s1600/20180716_213202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1599" data-original-width="1600" height="319" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA6TepVIND8kvzSuWZVgW1e1MGT8Mhv11n_1COCiqhXEvUrZallZgv5UMQ59oPQY661GMDNvy0Yhrb3KUJDKZvc6i1JepmrZ-axkwrw8WJB_olL94udcbnS0dcEchhNA9S8IqTAMGJvVlz/s320/20180716_213202.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
</span>We made our way down to Washington D.C.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What a wondrous experience to see all the memorials
that we had only seen on TV.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was very
impressed with the view from the top of the Washington Memorial and the Lincoln
Memorial really made an impression.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
didn’t spend as much time in the Natural History museum in the
Smithsonian.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mom made it very clear that
we needed to stay together, and we did…but Dad didn’t get the message and we
spent most of the day trying to find him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>However, Mom did make sure that I got to see the Hope Diamond.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After we found Dad, I think we went to the
Air & Space museum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can still
remember seeing “The Spirit of St Louis” and the space capsule.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This time, Mom kept a close eye on Dad, so we
got to see quite a bit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Next, we headed
down and saw Arlington National Cemetery including the “Tomb of the Unknown
Soldier” the Lee mansion and John F Kennedy’s grave. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then it was time to travel to Mt Vernon, and I
remember the grand old house and seeing the graves of George and Martha
Washington.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I certainly noticed the
difference in the way the Washington’s lived and the way their slaves
lived.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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At this point time was getting a little short and we had to
skip seeing Monticello and head down to the Blue Ridge parkway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My great grandmother was from Mountain City,
TN and my Mom wanted us to see the town where our great grandmother grew
up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mom was bothered when we got into
town because nothing was familiar to her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She was trying to find the courthouse and it wasn’t where she remembered
it, so she asked an older gentleman along the sidewalk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He looked at our rig and us and smiled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He then told us that he had just moved to Mountain
City two years previously from Clarkston, WA.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>(I work on the Idaho side of the Snake River in Lewiston, ID – I can
look across the river and see Clarkston, WA from our office)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He then told us to ask the young fella at the
gas station…he would know!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Turns out
that courthouse had been torn down a few years after Mom had been there in the
late 1950’s.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We then meandered down through Georgia, saw “Stone Mountain”
and then headed to Ft Sumpter and Charleston, SC.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We couldn’t go out to the fort, so we had to
settle for looking at it from the shoreline.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkjY2qswCxVcqz2wZ4xH9sMNW2bhAslbQ5DUTFWuR_-gzHWpxNYymReM98Lzb-BE-gk1UlxHtc5xpIHTPXmAV3Ceixe73MZliBh1z26-kh4a0-pli1T2dM2-JPiY752gPwFs5_aoDgkGa8/s1600/20180716_213450.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1508" data-original-width="1600" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkjY2qswCxVcqz2wZ4xH9sMNW2bhAslbQ5DUTFWuR_-gzHWpxNYymReM98Lzb-BE-gk1UlxHtc5xpIHTPXmAV3Ceixe73MZliBh1z26-kh4a0-pli1T2dM2-JPiY752gPwFs5_aoDgkGa8/s320/20180716_213450.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At Fort Sumpter - on Shoreline</td></tr>
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</span>We then headed down to Florida.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
don’t know if they still do it on the border, but I remember stopping for free
orange juice which tasted and smelled wonderful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had three major stops in Florida – Cape Canaveral
(Kennedy Space Center), St. Augustine and Disney World with another minor stop
at the De Soto National monument. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There
are so many memories:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>seeing the
Enterprise on the tarmac (the prototype to the Shuttle) astronauts walking
around in their suits, moon rock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then
the Castillo San De Marcos at St Augustine and the tiny little mission church “Mission
Nombre De Dios.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have been to many
grand and great churches in my lifetime, but that little church felt as if it
was one of the holiest that I had visited.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
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We spent three days at Disney World.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We stayed just outside the part at Yogi Berra campground and road the monorail
into Disney World.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can remember very
hot and humid days with rainstorm every afternoon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were lots of lines waiting to get into
the attractions, fabulous fireworks displays at night and one special meal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My Dad made a special trip to get tickets for
a meal in the castle, so his 11-year-old girl got to have dinner in the
Cinderella castle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was special to me –
but I can’t say that my siblings minded seeing all the waitresses in their costumes
or having the experience of eating on pewter and enjoying the great
atmosphere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Visiting plantation at Auburn</td></tr>
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From that point on, we headed west to New Orleans. Mom and
Dad were of an age to enjoy the night life and tour of New Orleans.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t think it was something that they
really enjoyed – strip clubs weren’t really in their “wheelhouse.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The tour of the city with all the beautiful
architecture and the cemetery left an impression. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, we were now really in a time crunch and
we had to cross Texas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can remember
going for miles and seeing nothing but flat land.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were going through doubt at the time and
the heat was unbearable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think we
ended the day in Santa Fe, NM.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dad was
getting a bit of itchy feet worrying about getting home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Laying in that campground that night, Dad
couldn’t get to sleep with the Air Force boys nearby having a party.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At three in the morning, Dad was fed up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bub and Chris crawled up in the camper bed,
Gwenda and I stayed in our beds, and Mom and Dad got into the cab and we
started heading north.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember waking
up at some point in Colorado and getting up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was July 4<sup>th</sup> and Dad needed to be home by July 6<sup>th</sup>
for work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was late evening by the
time we drove through Salt Lake City, UT and we must have seen at least 6
different firework shows along the way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We ended that night in Boise, ID. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The next morning, we were heading home, now
within six hours of Lewiston.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We stopped
for gas at McCall and Dad saw one of his co-workers and discovered that there
had been a shutdown at the mill and we would have had a few more days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were regrets that we hadn’t seen the
Grand Canyon, but we were so close to home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That trip had a lasting impact on all my family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are too many stories to share and too
many shared experiences.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> There are very few pictures </span>The education
that we received on our journey is the best kind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To this day, we all have a lasting love of
history.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wish every family could have
a trip like that was…but you need a father as patient as mine and mother who
was an organizational wizard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br />CarmenMJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12928765351501514151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3448423006815238271.post-32376742179913624952018-05-14T12:12:00.001-07:002018-05-14T12:12:25.185-07:00Grizel Carey FletcherThere is something that is interesting about the name Grizel...perhaps it reminds me of one of Cinderella's stepsisters, Grizelda. Whatever the case, it isn't the usual name. I haven't even seen it much in the early colonial times. So I was interested when I came across her name.<br />
<br />
Elizabeth Baldwin would have been my 6th great grandmother. She married Jesse Swan on the 24 Nov 1766 in Stonington, New London Co., CT. My line to her is as follows:<br />
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Nathaniel Swan m. Harriett Shutter<br />
Cynthia Swan m. Potter Gage<br />
Gilbert Gage m. Phoebe Allen<br />
Orlando Gage m. Edith Phoebe Gallup<br />
Ora Silas Gage m. Florence Christine Shawver<br />
Helen Marian Gage m. Frank Stewart Johnson (my grandparents)<br />
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I have found the Swan family line to be a very interesting line to pursue. I have found a lot of interesting tidbits through the years. From all the research that I have done through the years, I have the realization that an awful lot of my family comes from New England. I have family living in Connecticut and Massachusetts from the mid 1600's to the late 1700's. With that small of a geographic area there is a high likelihood that there are a lot of tangled family connections...and that is certainly the case.<br />
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Elizabeth's parents were John Baldwin and Eunice Spaulding and she was born in 1745 in New London Co., CT and died in 1803 Berne Co., NY. Elizabeth and her husband Jesse Swan migrated to NY probably in the late 1790's. I have a few other more family lines who moved about the same time. Anyway, you take Elizabeth's family back a few more generations you end up with Grizel Fletcher.<br />
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John Baldwin m. Eunice Spaulding<br />
Thomas Spaulding m. Mary/Mercy Welch<br />
Joseph Spaulding m. Mercy Jewell<br />
Thomas Jewell m. Grizel Fletcher<br />
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Thomas Jewell was born about 1607 in England, immigrated to Massachusetts in 1635 and married Grizel Fletcher around 1640. Grizel was born about 1618 in Chelmsford, Essex, England. Her father was Robert Fletcher and her mother is unknown. I have seen Robert's second wife Sarah Hartwell listed, but since they didn't married to 1631, I find that doubtful. Thomas and Grizel were the parents of the following children:<br />
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Thomas Jewell b. 1639<br />
Joseph Jewell b. 1642<br />
Hannah Jewell b. 1643<br />
Nathaniel Jewell b. 1648<br />
Grizzell b.1651<br />
Mercy b. 1653 (My 9th great grandmother)<br />
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Thomas Jewell dies on 21 Jul 1654 in Braintree, Norfolk Co., MA. I don't know if women were in a shortage or if Grizel needed protection and help, but Grizel marries about six months later on 9 Jan 1655 to Humphrey Griggs. (He was b. 1610 and d. 1657) He must have died before 8 Aug 1657, because Grizel marries Henry Kibbee on that date. Henry passes away on 10 Aug 1661. They have three children:<br />
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Edward b. 1659<br />
Sherebiah b. 1659<br />
Joshua b. 1661<br />
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Then, on 12 Nov 1661, Grizel marries John Gerney. I don't have any birth and death dates, but I would make the assumption that he died before 1667, because that is when Grizel marries John Burge on 3 Jul 1667. Grizel dies herself on 9 Jul 1669 in Chelmsford, Middlesex Co., MA. <br />
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There is no judgement on my part as to the many marriages. It would have had to be very difficult to support young children as a woman. The husband's all had young children and they needed wives to provide food and care for them as well. Grizel was the mother of nine children by two different husbands and also married two more times. Grizel was about 21 when her first child was born in 1639 and about 43 when she had her ninth child. When she died in 1669, she was 51 years of age. She left behind 5 children below the age of 16. I am fairly sure those children were absorbed into other family members families. My 9th great grandmother (Mercy Jewell) married on 9 Dec 1670 to Joseph Spaulding. <br />
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If the data I have found is correct, it doesn't paint a very pretty picture. It does paint a picture of woman who was a survivor and did whatever she could to keep hearth and home together. How difficult it must have been to face the death of three husbands and have nine children to look after and make sure they were clothed and fed. I am not sure how anyone could call that period of history the "good old days!" CarmenMJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12928765351501514151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3448423006815238271.post-40759294207630104112018-04-24T16:48:00.002-07:002022-04-10T16:29:07.043-07:00Gravestone Pics - George William Shawver & Elizabeth Matilda Legg<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjahWSY1ZpduvZ6kCjpFmbgA1KEHPIzNqa2m4qgS6hmy-Fk5KhE_2XBGQyjVhFrs9U7UWYGdvCmN0T_ZEgSveQXP6fs5xm43sHM0tSp1ZtAPUptPv7b1vY7BqLmI7Lr2cfcsPj6p9ggGd-1/s1600/George+W+%2526+Eliz+Matilda+Legg+Shawver.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="508" data-original-width="371" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjahWSY1ZpduvZ6kCjpFmbgA1KEHPIzNqa2m4qgS6hmy-Fk5KhE_2XBGQyjVhFrs9U7UWYGdvCmN0T_ZEgSveQXP6fs5xm43sHM0tSp1ZtAPUptPv7b1vY7BqLmI7Lr2cfcsPj6p9ggGd-1/s400/George+W+%2526+Eliz+Matilda+Legg+Shawver.JPG" width="291" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4zN_CCGNnht3J34LE3VWpYsyqMiD7OMl808XQAy6KDiJ5YV2ZhGkSWH6LhGin-AtOlii4YEKq_AnQlK_hKmau-xiCXER9RkX7id_AhE7V_JoltzjMrWqr7rn_IUL2srde3upVUL7WNmdF/s1600/George+Shawver+%2526+Elizabeth+Legg%2527s+grave.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="328" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4zN_CCGNnht3J34LE3VWpYsyqMiD7OMl808XQAy6KDiJ5YV2ZhGkSWH6LhGin-AtOlii4YEKq_AnQlK_hKmau-xiCXER9RkX7id_AhE7V_JoltzjMrWqr7rn_IUL2srde3upVUL7WNmdF/s400/George+Shawver+%2526+Elizabeth+Legg%2527s+grave.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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My great great grandfather moved to Iowa and later Nebraska in the late 1800's. He likely wasn't there when his parents both died in 1900. When he visited West Virginia in 1930, he took this photo of his parent's gravestone and it is in a photo album of photos taken during that trip back to West Virginia.<br />
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Neither one of these photos is all that cheerful. I suspect that no one likes to see a picture of a gravestone unless you are interested in genealogy. However, if you are interested in genealogy, there are two things missing as far as I am concerned. Those two things are the maiden name of the woman and full dates on the gravestone. Doesn't seem that important to most...but sometimes it is very difficult to figure out what the maiden name is for a particular ancestor. Perhaps there wasn't a marriage record available, or no one had a Bible record. It makes it so much easier to have the maiden name already on the stone. This caused quite a discussion for my mother and I many years ago. We decided that women should always have their maiden name on their gravestones because it not only acknowledges the family they were born into but also their own family history. Plus it would make it so much easier on later generations. So, when my mother passed away - her maiden name was on her gravestone.<br />
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This couple would be my 3rd great grandparents. The handwriting on the photo is from my great grandmother, Florence Shawver Gage. The typewritten description also comes from her. She decided to redo some of her photo albums once upon a time, taught herself to type and typed up the descriptions. You might call her an early "scrapbooker!"<br />
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George William Shawver was born 15 Nov 1824 at Mill Creek Mountain, Greenbrier Co., WV (It was still VA when he was born) and he died 9 Mar 1900 in Prosperity, Raleigh Co., WV. He was married to Elizabeth Matilda Legg on 02 Nov 1848 in Fayette Co., WV (VA). She was born 16 May 1830 in Leander, Fayette Co., VA (WV) and she died just a few weeks before her husband on 12 Feb 1900 in Prosperity, Raleigh Co., WV. He was the son of Robert Shawver and Mary Jane Callison and she was the daughter of Thomas Henderson Legg and Elizabeth Nutter.<br />
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I don't know when the photo was taken, but I suspect it was around 1890 or so. My younger relations have commented that he looks friendly enough but she looks rather sour. Have to remind the younger generations that she probably didn't have many teeth left...and they probably had to sit there for a few minutes to take a photo. She couldn't really hide behind the beard!<br />
<br />CarmenMJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12928765351501514151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3448423006815238271.post-5925571428192502182018-04-17T14:57:00.002-07:002018-04-17T14:57:56.827-07:00The Kelley Maze and the Researcher Who Helped Me Find My Way!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6P3Kioo7pIQf7opseiFUS9Jw3M217c7Qu4lDipA40Vb37O-dnIvhTHQN2ZhnnR8JAbUZjckuJawCZ4UUKsPsuMhl8aeBBvKmSLyj6XrF0y9Pmu3geWlkpkd58LHPv2-MjkKQRUuhmoaPo/s1600/JohnWard%2526MelvinaRobinsonKelly.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="846" data-original-width="1200" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6P3Kioo7pIQf7opseiFUS9Jw3M217c7Qu4lDipA40Vb37O-dnIvhTHQN2ZhnnR8JAbUZjckuJawCZ4UUKsPsuMhl8aeBBvKmSLyj6XrF0y9Pmu3geWlkpkd58LHPv2-MjkKQRUuhmoaPo/s320/JohnWard%2526MelvinaRobinsonKelly.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">John Ward Kelley & Melvina Robertson - My 3rd Great Grandparents</td></tr>
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I have been doing genealogical research for over 20 years
now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hard to believe that I have been
doing it that long…but really I have been doing it most of my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I learned at an early age to ask a lot of
questions and listen to the stories that many of my older relations enjoyed
sharing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There have been a lot of people
who have helped me and taught me through the years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I learned that one of those people passed
away this past summer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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I think that I met “Lucy” through another researcher.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t think that she ever got online.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was old school and did everything through
letters and phone calls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I learned so
much through those phone calls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had
grown up on the farm that my great great great grandfather was born on back at
Sexton’s Creek, Clay Co., KY.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is one
of those amazing things about genealogy when the young and the old get together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is a mix of generations that shouldn’t
fit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lucy’s father died when she was
quite young and she lived with her grandparents, Francis Marion Kelly and
Fannie Jane Sparks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Francis Marion Kelly
was the younger brother of my 3<sup>rd</sup> great grandfather, John Ward
Kelly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Their parents, William Kelly and
Ailey Allen were the parents of eleven children.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, I was talking with someone who had
memories with her grandfather who was my 3<sup>rd</sup> great grandfather’s
brother and lived on the home-place that William Kelly and Ailey Allen had lived
on in Clay Co., KY.<o:p></o:p></div>
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It is my observation that there is a special kind of “crazy”
for anyone who decides to dive in on families lines in Kentucky or West
Virginia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know it occurs in other areas,
but in my experience, these areas are some of the most difficult to get the
information correct.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am not only
talking about names, dates, and places but connecting them to the correct
families.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are so many
intermarriages, similar names and places.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I have some experience doing this…so I know what it is like to go down
in that deep hole.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have always tried
to add siblings of my ancestors and once you go down that road, it has endless
branches that seem to interconnect.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This
is especially true if you are looking in a relatively small geographic
area.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You might wonder why I
characterize West Virginia and Kentucky in this category…mostly because I have gone
into the maze many times and sometimes it is weeks before I get out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Having said that, it was an enjoyable experience
to get lost in that maze with someone like Lucy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She knew the area, families and connections
like no one else, mostly because she had lived there and could personally share
the experience.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Lucy and I spent several years pursuing both independently
and together the connection between Adoniram Allen and Ethan Allen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had both heard the story and wanted to
find proof of the connection.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was
surprising when we both came to the same conclusion almost at the same
time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The connection wasn’t through
Adoniram and Ethan’s father,s but rather through their mother’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were sisters with the last name of
Baker.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Lucy had heard stories from her grandfather who told her
that his father had traveled with his parents from the Clinch mountains by
wagon out to Kentucky as a young man.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She was also the one who found documentation about the Hammer family
traveling from Pennsylvania through the Cumberland Gap to Knob Creek,
Washington Co., TN.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While we never found
documented proof that our “Kinchen Kelly” and the one that came from Knob Creek
were one and the same – we had pretty good circumstantial proof.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hope that I can give someone else guidance
that is as valuable as what Lucy gave me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I haven’t been able to talk to my friend for some time because she hadn’t
been well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will miss her and treasure
the knowledge that she gave me and will try to pay it forward.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Writing this family reminds me that I need to dig back into this family. I am sure is more info to add that wasn't available the last time I went researched the family!</span></div>
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This is the family of William Kelly and Ailey
Allen that Lucy and I shared.<o:p></o:p></div>
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William Kelly b. 1818 TN d. 9 Jun 1899 Clay Co., KY<br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>m. Ailey Allen b. 12 Apr 1823 Clay Co.,
KY d. 05 Apr 1890 Clay Co., KY<o:p></o:p></div>
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<ul>
<li>Rachel
Kelly b. 1842 d. aft 1880 m John R Banks m2 Granville Bishop</li>
<li>Susan
Laura Jane Kelly b. 25 apr 1843 d. 26 Aug 1928 m. Granville Bishop (Yes it is
the same one)</li>
<li>Drucilla
Kelly b. 30 Oct 1845 d. 7 Oct 1884 m. Lunsford Banks</li>
<li>James
Kelly b. 01 Oct 1847 d. 01 Oct 1923 m. Sarah Ann Bishop</li>
<li>John
Ward Kelly b. 08 Aug 1849 d. 20 Feb 1910 m. Melvina Robertson m2 Laura</li>
<li>George
W. Kelly b. Jun 1851 d. aft 1910 m. Elizabeth North</li>
<li>Joseph
Matherly Kelley b. 16 May 1853 d. 4 Sept 1929 m. Drucilla Alice Morgan</li>
<li>Francis
Marion Kelly b. 13 Nov 1855 d. 6 Dec 1939 m. Fannie Jane Sparks</li>
<li>Kinchen
Kelley b. 30 Apr 1858 d. 1930 m. Julia A Sparks</li>
<li>Henry Kelly b. 1 May 1861 d. 1 May
1913 m. Nancy Napier</li>
<li>Jobe Kelly b. 20 Feb 1864 d. 14 Dec
1941 m. Martha Lucinda Edwards</li>
</ul>
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<br />CarmenMJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12928765351501514151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3448423006815238271.post-26583665514122406052018-04-05T16:35:00.001-07:002018-04-05T16:35:07.328-07:00Happy Birthday Granddad Gage<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCb68Uw-xhyphenhyphenFHaAEtMA6oh2_NSjMa1znD-S1J3WC62BEdY17aaCJsS1DYC3g2B1vVqcLn7BIhbX4CVZ-fDQco03OQoP2JszSXajFCWSc4hBR02sTMJU5RWKkazGE-fCk-AJYJLwLKGZ-GT/s1600/Grandad+%2526+Carmen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="797" data-original-width="817" height="312" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCb68Uw-xhyphenhyphenFHaAEtMA6oh2_NSjMa1znD-S1J3WC62BEdY17aaCJsS1DYC3g2B1vVqcLn7BIhbX4CVZ-fDQco03OQoP2JszSXajFCWSc4hBR02sTMJU5RWKkazGE-fCk-AJYJLwLKGZ-GT/s320/Grandad+%2526+Carmen.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
It is hard to believe that it has been 28 years since my great grandfather died. I was so lucky that I had him until I was 23 years old. It is funny because one of my dearest memories of him happened on a spring break back when I was probably about 6 or so. My family had gone to the Oregon coast to see the ocean...and to visit Grandma and Grandpa Gage. Somehow or another, I fell into a tidal pool and as was normal - it was cold and rainy during spring break. I was taken back to my great grandparents home, dried off and changed clothes. Then I sat on my Grandpa's lap, leaned against his chest and fell asleep. I didn't know it at the time, but that was probably one of Granddad Gage's favorite things to do - have one of his many grandchildren on his lap.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAAYBkypBBTevV9hd5zxh3FWS0qEZCqmqdmYoceXB-7j0WQjC6KkNh2Wa1uh1RMwvSE0hJTVSQqF3reQlg3tJ8QnJkrH-q-Lfv0tcxqpnVmhVqyeT8Yh2ZuCUjxyHvvDF7-dAlSGQIaGxJ/s1600/Granddad-Farm_IA.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="791" data-original-width="1600" height="158" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAAYBkypBBTevV9hd5zxh3FWS0qEZCqmqdmYoceXB-7j0WQjC6KkNh2Wa1uh1RMwvSE0hJTVSQqF3reQlg3tJ8QnJkrH-q-Lfv0tcxqpnVmhVqyeT8Yh2ZuCUjxyHvvDF7-dAlSGQIaGxJ/s320/Granddad-Farm_IA.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of his younger photos back in Iowa in the 1920's</td></tr>
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Granddad Gage was born on 5 Apr 1892 in Esperance, NY to Orlando Gage and Edith Gallup. He had had an older brother who had died as a toddler. He had been in a walker and had scooted under a table and stood up. He was killed by a nail poking through on the table. (Granddad always reminded everyone of that when he saw a child in a walker.) Orlando Gage had been a widower with another family before he married Edith Gallup. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH46QaG_cHz8aTrhqMETk33UdPXWUi2OIFcDZOzD8gsfNv3XxwwsU5iOG57KhqiziSzEsD5IAnWHpmWwcDVXZHwv3pSS3evREppIFV4gAxliROnXOOnjEnM_ORM6-F_MjVn7oOsCpFdKY1/s1600/Orlando++Edith+Gallup+Gage+and+Fam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="866" data-original-width="1273" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH46QaG_cHz8aTrhqMETk33UdPXWUi2OIFcDZOzD8gsfNv3XxwwsU5iOG57KhqiziSzEsD5IAnWHpmWwcDVXZHwv3pSS3evREppIFV4gAxliROnXOOnjEnM_ORM6-F_MjVn7oOsCpFdKY1/s320/Orlando++Edith+Gallup+Gage+and+Fam.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Granddad was the oldest of the four living children. His name was Ora Silas, then the twins Pete & Phebe and his youngest sister, Alice. In 1908, they lost their parents within 8 days of each other. Their mother died of pneumonia and father had gotten sick and had died 8 days after their mother. Granddad brought his siblings to Nebraska to live with their maternal Grandmother, (Phebe Montanye Gallup) and then promptly left to off by himself and find a job at 15 years of age. He worked as postman for a while, was in the army and then got work as a hired hand at a farm. The story goes that he went up to a farmer who was advertising and asked what the pay was. The farm said something like $5 a day...and Granddad replied that he was worth more than that. Granddad said that he would work for him for two weeks and if the farmer didn't agree that he was worth $10 a day, he would move on with no pay. After the first few days, the farmer didn't only agree he was worth the extra money, he paid him to make sure he kept him. Granddad and Lou Brenner (the farmer) became lifelong friends.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grandma Gage's 93rd birthday. Granddad was 98. This was the last time I saw him! June, 1990</td></tr>
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No one could accuse Granddad of being stupid or lazy. While Granddad didn't have a lot of formal schooling, he was probably one of the better informed and well read people I have known. I remember watching him read Herman Wouk's <u>War & Remembrance</u> in his early 90's. He might have been reading with magnifying glasses, but he was reading it. Part of that was an innate curiosity about life and a love of learning...perhaps part of was also being married to a schoolteacher. The last time I saw Granddad Gage was my great grandmother's birthday in June of 1990. They were still discussing what was going on in the world. They were also still competing at answering the questions first while watching Jeopardy on TV.<br />
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I have so many wonderful memories of Granddad. It always reminds me how lucky I truly was. When I think of a grandfather...I think of him, and he was my great grandfather. Here are a few blogs that I have written about him through the years.<br />
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<a href="http://genheirlooms.blogspot.com/2013/08/grandpa-gages-school-picture.html">Grandpa Gage's School Picture </a><br />
<a href="http://genheirlooms.blogspot.com/2012/06/bib-overalls.html">Bib Overalls</a><br />
<a href="http://genheirlooms.blogspot.com/2012/04/they-lived-their-faith.html">They Lived their Faith</a><br />
<a href="http://genheirlooms.blogspot.com/2012/02/lifelong-love-story.html">A Lifelong Love Story</a><br />
<a href="http://genheirlooms.blogspot.com/2011/10/job-well-done.html">A Job Well Done</a><br />
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<br />CarmenMJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12928765351501514151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3448423006815238271.post-31254326896554034592018-01-19T12:06:00.001-08:002018-01-19T12:06:19.387-08:00Cemetery Tales - Star Gap/Acre Field CemeteryIt was 2001 and my first trip to Mountain City, TN. I was staying over in Ashe Co., NC with a Dollar cousin who loaned me her Ford Explorer. She didn't want me taking the back road over and wanted me to drive through Boone, NC to get to Johnson Co., TN. It was funny to me because I had driven more than my share of back roads...but she didn't know it. I have to admit it was one of my favorite genealogy adventures.<br />
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Knowing that the my first stop should be the library, I wandered around the town streets of Mountain City. I had a general idea of where the library was and this wasn't a big town. I parked the car and walked into the library, set my stuff down and began to look around some of the books. I picked a few up and walked back to the table. Across from me was another woman looking through her own books...and naturally we started a conversation. We began talking about the family lines that we were looking at (this is a great conversation starter for anyone research genealogy). She told me her families and I told her mine...and when I mentioned Dollar and Friddle - she told me that I needed to contact Carmen Johnson. I looked at her and pretty much said "That wouldn't be hard...as I am Carmen Johnson." She then told me her "handle" on the Johnson Co., TN newslist (Back in 2001 - genealogy information availability on the internet and email contact was still in its infancy. Genealogy newslists were a great way to make contact and get information.) and I immediately recognized her. I didn't know her real name because I either hadn't paid attention or she hadn't mentioned it. I learned that her name was Jenny and ironically she lived in Spokane, WA and here we were in Johnson Co., TN sitting in a library when our home towns were only 2 hours apart.<br />
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Jenny was actually a native of Johnson Co., TN and was just visiting family. I decided to take advantage of her knowledge of the area and asked her if she knew where the Star Gap cemetery was. I think the answer was no...but we got directions and we were on our way. I will never forget going to that cemetery. We turned off the road to go to Star Gap cemetery and it was probably a little more of a back road than my Dollar cousin wanted me to travel on. It was a narrow dirt road but to me it seemed just fine...after all it wasn't on the side of hill climbing a steep road. This was pretty simple compared to the Idaho dirt roads I was used to. It seemed like we had been traveling for quite a while and it seemed as if the trees were closing in on us as the road was narrow and the vegetation was thick. While I am not worried about dirt roads...there is one thing I don't like...when another car is coming from the opposite direction. I had to back up about 20 or 30 feet to find a spot where I could pull over and let the other car pass. I did roll down the window and ask how much further we need to go and was advised that it was in another few hundred feet. It was really rather remarkable...we traveled on this narrow road surrounded by trees and it suddenly opened up in rather lovely meadow with a cemetery just off to the left. We got out and walked around the cemetery and while I found a lot of familiar names, I didn't find the gravestone I was looking for which was my great grandmother's little brother, Charles Frederick Dollar. I should have looked further because it was there - see <a href="https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/74609427/charles-frederick-dollar">FAG # 74609427</a> .<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8Vv5L3zAJdvjHNPQSfCra57Msfhw61JveThLEdAPy1pNGIc1cKBdUh4XWh3AQjdYUriHJxzRA21ORbDh-TZ0wkb2s38J6IZypT76Q-W3ISLvNS1tOLyZvsL6_IF8fDDjA-ScsszbfViy1/s1600/Cress%252CBessie+Friddles.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8Vv5L3zAJdvjHNPQSfCra57Msfhw61JveThLEdAPy1pNGIc1cKBdUh4XWh3AQjdYUriHJxzRA21ORbDh-TZ0wkb2s38J6IZypT76Q-W3ISLvNS1tOLyZvsL6_IF8fDDjA-ScsszbfViy1/s320/Cress%252CBessie+Friddles.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bessie Friddles Cress - Phillipi Cemetery, Johnson Co., TN</td></tr>
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Jenny and I then made our way to the Phllipi Cemetery where I was able to find my great grandfather's niece and her husband's grave quite easily (See above). It was right along the road. I think Jenny even remembered her. I have at some point visited with her daughter. She told me that when she was a baby, my great grandmother have traveled back to Tennessee and had stopped by to see her mother. The cousin (Lois) was a baby at the time or at least quite young. Lois said that her parents didn't have a lot of money and she was mostly dressed in hand-me-down clothes. My great grandmother, knowing this, went and bought a few outfits to take along on her visit for the little girl. I think Lois told me that they were still in her cedar chest and had always been treasured. Just goes to show that one person's simple act of kindness can be remembered for a lifetime.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtOUmVjpjBS49voi771ccPpvQXaE1aQnushcHPtHfp5ElB_VDLbd40Z_VzWgSGjyLDS6z9A52BnVcbl_eq3rHTxb1xz7L4aMGQhg42LFkHaPeDql5quATzM1tkSegPDMcJAnXfx-jQ8-11/s1600/Friddles%252C+Moses.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1073" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtOUmVjpjBS49voi771ccPpvQXaE1aQnushcHPtHfp5ElB_VDLbd40Z_VzWgSGjyLDS6z9A52BnVcbl_eq3rHTxb1xz7L4aMGQhg42LFkHaPeDql5quATzM1tkSegPDMcJAnXfx-jQ8-11/s320/Friddles%252C+Moses.jpg" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Moses Friddles - Hawkins Cemetery, Johnson Co., TN</td></tr>
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We then attempted to find the cemetery where my great great grandfather was buried. It was located at Hawkins Cemetery. I know from what my Dollar cousin said that it was quite a trek to get there and was located across a field full of cows. She had already gotten a picture (see above) Jenny and I never quite got that far...after a lot of driving we decided to give up as we couldn't find it and Jenny and I both had to make our way back to our respective "temporary" homes.<br />
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That few hours was over 16 years ago. Neither one of us has ever forgotten that day and we never hesitate to remind each other of our adventure. Life may never give us the opportunity to spend any other time together (I hope that isn't the case) but neither one will ever forget that meeting.<br />
<br />CarmenMJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12928765351501514151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3448423006815238271.post-23923628156712950222018-01-10T09:12:00.003-08:002018-01-10T09:12:30.001-08:00Cousin Lowell<div class="MsoNormal">
I received word last night that a cousin had passed away
January 8, 2018. I first “met” Lowell Johnson on the phone almost 20 years
ago. Back then we were using Family Tree
Maker for our genealogy program and they had CD’s that what they called “World
Family Tree” which was a collection of family trees that were shared by other members. I found Lowell’s tree and was quite pleased
to find a lot of similar information to my own.
This might seem shocking today, but they these files had the users’s
name, address, and phone number on them.
I waited until after five o’clock (we did that then; long distance rates
were cheaper) and called Lowell. I still
remember his deep voice as he answered the phone. I explained who I was and who my parents and
grandparents were. We had quite a close
connection as my great grandfather and his grandfather were brothers. </div>
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My mother had gotten most of our information on the Johnson
family on a long-ago conversation with my grandfather. He had been pleased to share what he knew of
his famly history. I am not sure he
thought there wasn’t anything terribly interesting about his family and he relayed
much of the information that Lowell had, including an “unknown Johnson” who had
married Nancy Mayfield. It was just a
few months before I made that phone call that a fellow researcher had sent to
my mother the name of that “Unknown Johnson” …Moses Johnson. I was delighted to spring that little piece
of information on him and he was very happy to have that name.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDksBa4rv4CUkxAY-EZ-zzSb_70RqdFK9OwPcrWBLtAOaBIEYPzuSQHJjkr0DMO77fe2p6I2r6u6irfZCxHinXpAzMmx98B6PYB9vyTHgwR7dnFXSC4wf-mb4L868iyjyGYRpfs956p74Y/s1600/Grace+and+Lowell%252C+Gene+and+I%252C+August+1940+%255B1024x768%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="582" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDksBa4rv4CUkxAY-EZ-zzSb_70RqdFK9OwPcrWBLtAOaBIEYPzuSQHJjkr0DMO77fe2p6I2r6u6irfZCxHinXpAzMmx98B6PYB9vyTHgwR7dnFXSC4wf-mb4L868iyjyGYRpfs956p74Y/s320/Grace+and+Lowell%252C+Gene+and+I%252C+August+1940+%255B1024x768%255D.jpg" width="181" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grace & Marian holding their sons<br />Lowell and Eugene - 1940.</td></tr>
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During the next several years, emails and many phone
conversations, we got a chance to know Lowell and his wife, Bonnie very well as
fellow researchers. We also found out
that we had a lovely picture of my Dad and Lowell as babies being held by their
mothers. Lowell was three weeks older
than Dad and was the closest in age to Dad of any of his cousins. We also found out that Lowell had a bad
heart.</div>
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In 2004, we decided that we wanted to go to North Dakota and
meet a few of these cousins that we had met through phone and email. We met up with some cousins from my Dad’s
mother’s family (Pope) in Washburn, ND and then we traveled to the small town
of Wahpeton to meet Lowell and Bonnie. This
was a big trip for my Mom. She had had a
lobe of her lung removed the previous year for lung cancer and was still on
Oxygen. Going over the continental
divide was a bit hard on her as they had to turn up her Oxygen and Mom and Dad
had to make arrangements along the way to fill her Oxygen tank. Mom was determined to make the trip, and I am
so glad she did. Since they had to take
more time than I did, I drove over a few days later to meet them. The whole trip was so much fun for us as we
were learning so much about Dad’s family and I am sure my Grandpa Frank was
smiling down. We then went over to
Wahpeton and we finally got to meet Lowell and Bonnie. Lowell had been outfitted with an LVAD
(left-ventricular assist device).
Essentially Lowell was walking around with battery pack on his back to
keep his heart going while waiting for a heart transplant. For several hours, we set there sharing
pictures and stories. Mom with her
Oxygen tank and Lowell with his battery pack.
We then went to dinner and shared a lovely meal. There was a bond
between my Dad and Lowell and a definite family likeness. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPUu3EjXJBLgPWHjeWGzkLnoCkquhfwVH5nPmbhNmpSHhbMf954da0VBUo523EAAAG32yStiIRWWzn9v69Vcxb9lsdV2Za_VeGPerRYvLnJGQKhtXpMJU-9sFkRFXDMAx_oVJBonoc4Dqf/s1600/Lowell+%2526+Gene+-+63+years+later.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="970" data-original-width="1082" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPUu3EjXJBLgPWHjeWGzkLnoCkquhfwVH5nPmbhNmpSHhbMf954da0VBUo523EAAAG32yStiIRWWzn9v69Vcxb9lsdV2Za_VeGPerRYvLnJGQKhtXpMJU-9sFkRFXDMAx_oVJBonoc4Dqf/s320/Lowell+%2526+Gene+-+63+years+later.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad and Lowell - 2004</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ2gGVLrej4r_MQqOsJpvUztR-IFn4hoWnBU1bCrThlAUFQbWAJh8Lz8BZ09zIoK12e9uDU6c5Us60qNGpHbSdloHRGS0f9Qeao4pz99YsyXkclM_S2MN1Gl-ayPeqj5GIlLLyIsFAC65b/s1600/Gene+%2526+Lowell.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ2gGVLrej4r_MQqOsJpvUztR-IFn4hoWnBU1bCrThlAUFQbWAJh8Lz8BZ09zIoK12e9uDU6c5Us60qNGpHbSdloHRGS0f9Qeao4pz99YsyXkclM_S2MN1Gl-ayPeqj5GIlLLyIsFAC65b/s320/Gene+%2526+Lowell.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad & Lowell - 2012</td></tr>
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Several months later around Christmas, we learned that
Lowell had gotten his heart transplant.
What wonderful news! We lost Mom
the next year (26 Dec 2005) to lung cancer.
Dad made another trip back to North Dakota on his own and he and I went
back in 2012. Dad and his girlfriend also
saw them a few years ago. In all this
time, Lowell did very well. His new
heart had given him the gift of years. Lowell
still had health problems…but he and Bonnie were able to enjoy a little over 13
more years together. Lowell was able to
enjoy his children and his grandchildren.
He had been living on borrowed time for so many years, and when he
received the gift of a new heart, he went about living to the best he could.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I will always be grateful to the family who donated their
loved one’s organs. They gave Lowell and
his family the gift of life and time which is priceless. I am so grateful that I and my parents had a
chance to get to know the lovely man that was my cousin. <o:p></o:p></div>
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CarmenMJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12928765351501514151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3448423006815238271.post-20806105961234960892017-11-22T11:04:00.004-08:002017-11-22T11:04:48.361-08:00I've Never Had Green Bean Casserole<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNUTY5HWPj1i6d7ZcjCtAMzk_AOJXoeHbxBhPDgvGfJXeYmfmzjfbEy0om2s32_1TGwY1dLfTUcJFV0zpRNL4iNVEx-xsAzqSFbUma8feMcDdc8WL7MmWM_owGGJfdt8H_DqWn6rR63Fp4/s1600/Thanksgiving-1968.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1094" data-original-width="1484" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNUTY5HWPj1i6d7ZcjCtAMzk_AOJXoeHbxBhPDgvGfJXeYmfmzjfbEy0om2s32_1TGwY1dLfTUcJFV0zpRNL4iNVEx-xsAzqSFbUma8feMcDdc8WL7MmWM_owGGJfdt8H_DqWn6rR63Fp4/s320/Thanksgiving-1968.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Thanksgiving at the Johnson household - circa 1969</span></td></tr>
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I know it is a shocking statement to many: "I've never had green bean casserole" and really it doesn't really bother me. It doesn't look all that appetizing and I certainly wouldn't want to give up any of our current Thanksgiving favorites.<br />
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I never remember a time where I didn't spend Thanksgiving with family. I realize that I am very lucky and that it might not always be the case. They are multi generational events with grandparents sharing the table along with aunts, uncles, siblings, cousins, nieces and nephews. I can remember during my childhood listening to stories at the feet of my great grandmother's (Sophia Dollar Friddle & Nettie Moody Shearer) and Aunty Jones (my mother's godmother - Glenthora Stranahan Jones). The three ladies were all of an age. Mom Friddle (Sophia Dollar Friddle) was born in 1894, Granny (Nettie Moody Shearer) was born in 1890 and Aunty Jones was born in 1889. They talked about riding the stagecoach to Waha, ID. Granny lived down by the Snake River on the Joseph plains. It was a two day trip to Winchester (this drive today takes about 35 minutes) and then another two days to where Granny lived. Darn near a week to travel between home and the nearest larger town. Their stories helped me gain a love for history and for family history. They had memories that stretched back to the 19th century which seemed quite amazing to a little girl in the late 1970's. The last time I really visited Granny was on Thanksgiving 1979. Mom Friddle had died earlier that year and it was the first time that Grandma Cappy had her new home in Clarkston. We spent Thanksgiving at her house that year. Grandma Cappy was worried about her mother-in-law, Granny, getting too tired. She insisted that Granny lie down for a nap. I think Granny probably gave her equivalent of an eye roll...but she gave in and told me to come with her. I think I was 12 years old. I laid on the bed with Granny and held her hand. She called me her "little Betty," because she said I reminded her of my mother when she was a little girl. I wish I remembered more specific memories of that moment...but it is a sweet memory - laying on that bed and holding her hand while she told me stories and asked me about her life.<br />
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I think we only had a few holiday dinners at Grandma Cappy's but everything switched back to our house for Thanksgiving. My mother (Betty Tannahill Johnson) never went easy on herself or us. We were all put into action, peeling potatoes, cutting vegetables, doing dishes and setting the table. Everything had to be just so...Mom didn't want to leave anything to chance. My grandmother would bring the pies and after they arrived, my grandfather would adjourn to the living room for the easy chair, peanuts and football. Grandma would sit at the chair at the bar and visit with my mother while she and the rest of us flew around to do her bidding or hide out so she couldn't see us. That certainly didn't last long :) It wasn't too much longer, in fact the last years Grandma was alive when Mom took the pie duties back because it was too much for Grandma. Mom did it on her own that first year, but by the next year, she involved me and the year after Grandma died, the pies became my job! I was 18 years old!<br />
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The last year we had Thanksgiving with Mom was just about a month before she died. We went over to my brother's house and had a lovely Thanksgiving. Mom insisted that we do our own turkey the next day, so everyone came over to the house for a second Thanksgiving...Mom said that she wanted to the leftovers. That was the first time I had ever attempted to do that large of a meal on my own. Usually, I had had Mom's involvement and guidance - but her health simply wouldn't allow her to do too much. It is funny, I think of that day with a smile...it has taken time to change that memory from sad to bittersweet!<br />
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We now gather at my brother's house. My sister in law should have been my mother's daughter. I see a lot of my Mom in her., especially on the days of these big holiday dinners. I contribute the pies - the job I have done since I was 18 as well as family salads like Eggnog, Grandpa's Crappy Salad, and the candied sweet potatoes. The Eggnog is a jelled salad that is a bit boozy and definitely not low fat. My niece christened what I used to call Dad's salad, Grandpa's Crappy Salad. It is lemon jello, whipped up with cream cheese and small diced celery. It is not a family favorite...mostly my Dad - but he deserves a little spoiling.<br />
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It is funny, I have seen people list Green Bean Casserole as a staple at their Thanksgiving table...I have never had it. I have had my share of the canned cranberry sauce...but I usually make it. It tastes better. So on this Wednesday before Thanksgiving, I will bake the pies like I have done for 30 years. I will make the Eggnog that are special to my siblings and I, as well as the salad that my Dad loves. I suppose you could say that those our Thanksgiving food traditions. I hope everyone has a wonderful Thanksgiving with family and friends. I think there are some family spirits who are with us and enjoying the sharing of memories, food, and family togetherness!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5HLFdmUIqXE2n7F-ROmVFkLJXAjNnP2ygm0eJF7H9JEOBP53essoHzmBDbw6-hKvmBzXqRdawbK55n-6ePLFvQ307h-k4x7vSDP9xCIWJVI3Lp5n4sfBBXsvH78Ph9urlB__2ABjHshsE/s1600/PD_0080.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1036" data-original-width="1600" height="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5HLFdmUIqXE2n7F-ROmVFkLJXAjNnP2ygm0eJF7H9JEOBP53essoHzmBDbw6-hKvmBzXqRdawbK55n-6ePLFvQ307h-k4x7vSDP9xCIWJVI3Lp5n4sfBBXsvH78Ph9urlB__2ABjHshsE/s320/PD_0080.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Aunty Jones (Glenthora Stranahan Jones) and my sister. Probably around 1982 or so.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinK4Es92oZxCHchyphenhyphenOfH-y-2OmDBM-Md9g_EcjdYb5vRmzqVOwDMUCsUA3cldnspw3PylE0Eob8s9ZWkO4RgvgGBed18S8omB_v5yLKyIXpj7km1ozKPXKn02a7fw_Rptwij4vLbxPWnS9p/s1600/Xmas70.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1534" data-original-width="1600" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinK4Es92oZxCHchyphenhyphenOfH-y-2OmDBM-Md9g_EcjdYb5vRmzqVOwDMUCsUA3cldnspw3PylE0Eob8s9ZWkO4RgvgGBed18S8omB_v5yLKyIXpj7km1ozKPXKn02a7fw_Rptwij4vLbxPWnS9p/s320/Xmas70.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">My guess is that was at one of our first holiday dinners at our house. Granny is sitting on the end. Dad is holding me with Chris and Bub sitting between. Grandpa Gwen is at the end.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCJYkpSL_r4A5NXVleOwba80Abioaa2hYTOPn6C4GwbDGY-JqsuV_8R3Xi_fGGyQtEkrWAU5YFi2Y7IMGmWid2fgK88vNNAanRsL3ffYIL8Yo5VCtOQpoECll4R78cqr6RXaEVquN9F5rF/s1600/Xmas1970.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1341" data-original-width="1600" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCJYkpSL_r4A5NXVleOwba80Abioaa2hYTOPn6C4GwbDGY-JqsuV_8R3Xi_fGGyQtEkrWAU5YFi2Y7IMGmWid2fgK88vNNAanRsL3ffYIL8Yo5VCtOQpoECll4R78cqr6RXaEVquN9F5rF/s320/Xmas1970.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dad and Grandpa most likely watching football. Usually a container with nuts in a container between them. They were comfortable companions.<br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMcZXdq9GHbGlzC6DwDYahKM15sDl3y_YQ6Ho8Xl0QFTmHCum2vz8x-roqdOlu45puG1dWpSZJdvf3LZi3tFC95LNqijEEZXCSbkIdqMSPi93wM5gxHalOR2XJqd7lQAoRh4cd5MNlPAfr/s1600/FRIDDLEFAM.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="463" data-original-width="488" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMcZXdq9GHbGlzC6DwDYahKM15sDl3y_YQ6Ho8Xl0QFTmHCum2vz8x-roqdOlu45puG1dWpSZJdvf3LZi3tFC95LNqijEEZXCSbkIdqMSPi93wM5gxHalOR2XJqd7lQAoRh4cd5MNlPAfr/s320/FRIDDLEFAM.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;"><span style="font-size: small;">I have a lot of pictures of my great grandmother - but not so many of the way I remembered her. This was taken in the early 70's with her children. <br />Claude on the left, Mom Friddle, Jack and the Grandma Cappy on the end.</span></td></tr>
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<br />CarmenMJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12928765351501514151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3448423006815238271.post-75810939392595802132017-11-09T00:30:00.000-08:002017-11-09T11:42:52.046-08:0070 Years Ago Today!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPJeB3NUCvdvOlDHqfdZmOnW_8TP81T5REoQ_DaSvlmorKGrR1QIbNvsatG27bJjlx8lYQVCMCFjTFIymmYl9Vo6my8IHCwZWqy8OU2H0xUR2TZ0bHrXOiweEUeoau7w65Gk9cArtDStPA/s1600/Richard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1372" data-original-width="1193" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPJeB3NUCvdvOlDHqfdZmOnW_8TP81T5REoQ_DaSvlmorKGrR1QIbNvsatG27bJjlx8lYQVCMCFjTFIymmYl9Vo6my8IHCwZWqy8OU2H0xUR2TZ0bHrXOiweEUeoau7w65Gk9cArtDStPA/s320/Richard.jpg" width="276" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="color: #20124d; font-size: large;">Oliver Richard Tannahill</span></b></div>
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b. 27 Apr 1912 - Peru, Chautauqua Co., KS</div>
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d. 09 Nov 1947 - Near Webb Rd, Nez Perce Co., ID</div>
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I have been fairly fortunate in my life that I had my parents and most of my grandparents during my growing up years. My Mom was not so lucky. She lost her father when had just barely turned 6 years old. The memories that she had of him were precious because they were so few. I know that every years that she was alive, November 9th was a momentous date...because it was the day she lost her father.<br />
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My grandfather's name was Oliver Richard Tannahill. I can make the assumption that he didn't really care for his first name as he never went by it. Every document I have seen his signature on lists his name as O. Richard Tannahill...even his tombstone has that name. I have always heard him referred to as Richard...so it was a bit of a surprise that his actual first name was Oliver. Richard was twin and his sister's name was Olive Rachel Tannahill...she must not have liked the name either, because she went by Rachel. My guess is that the Oliver/Olive name came from Richard's uncle, Samuel Oliver Tannahill. Richard was born in Peru, Chautauqua Co., KS and spent some of his younger years in Pawhuska, OK and moved with his father to Idaho sometime around 1929. I actually thought that date was much earlier, but that is time frame listed on his death certificate. My grandmother was actually quite precise on the type of thing. My mother grew up with a lot of questions in her mind. Some she asked to her mother and step father (Grandpa Gwen was Richard's best friend), but there were always a lot of "what if's" in her mind. Grandpa Gwen wasn't the easiest person to grow up with as a step father. My mother loved him, but there was always her natural father out there to wonder about. I don't think I have ever heard a negative word about Richard. He was a hard worker, did everything well that he attempted, he was intelligent, and caring. Richard was a good friend, son, brother, and uncle. He was also a beloved husband and father. My Mom used to say that he was the only one of his siblings who didn't swear, drink or smoke...so therefore he died at the youngest age. </div>
I hadn't seen the actual death certificate until recently. I can see my grandmother's signature listed there as the informant...and it makes my heart ache for her. Richard was the love of her life...I don't think she ever entirely recovered from his death. She moved on because she had family to care for...her diaries really show her heartache. I wrote a blog about Richard's death 5 years ago. You can read it here: <b><a href="http://genheirlooms.blogspot.com/2012/11/daddys-gone.html">Daddy's Gone!</a> </b>Instead, I thought I would share some photos of Richard and his family!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqw0vBUfJH3vicNz8UZVO6OjxCciAVI-C97ROmtBjGLmvicmqWSmRtD1_wQiHw7S6Uc1acZgiCVsinWmOBy-Mwsspjn-zhiWWWYN1OxhEQNBYYcFxddBhNTWkWCM1-6YAQa3pCf4JqZ740/s1600/Twins-babies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="930" data-original-width="1280" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqw0vBUfJH3vicNz8UZVO6OjxCciAVI-C97ROmtBjGLmvicmqWSmRtD1_wQiHw7S6Uc1acZgiCVsinWmOBy-Mwsspjn-zhiWWWYN1OxhEQNBYYcFxddBhNTWkWCM1-6YAQa3pCf4JqZ740/s320/Twins-babies.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">This photo was actually two pieces that we put together. It had been broken at some point. I have no idea </span><span style="font-size: small;">which one is Rachel or Richard. Probably taken in 1913 in Kansas or Oklahoma.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiR_j-okR9-8AiTtOUfHgwmW1ZECtEgVno5QjCoTeAQ7wA_XFhTrt9znUCwZ80wd_MYykhDxkar-kW32CB6JXoTgXgFKn4zJdAVi_7ySQwGyFjmK9NXRZyvp7SNOGQ_7qzVFwV7j-jh0TM/s1600/TanFam-abt+1916.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1251" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiR_j-okR9-8AiTtOUfHgwmW1ZECtEgVno5QjCoTeAQ7wA_XFhTrt9znUCwZ80wd_MYykhDxkar-kW32CB6JXoTgXgFKn4zJdAVi_7ySQwGyFjmK9NXRZyvp7SNOGQ_7qzVFwV7j-jh0TM/s320/TanFam-abt+1916.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">My best guess is that this was taken around 1918 or so. This photo includes all of the children of John L Tannahill and Sarah Rachel Kelley. <br />Top Left: John Theodore, William Sylvester, Samuel Ward, Earl Sylvanus </span><span style="font-size: small;">Front Left: Sarah holding Richard, George Carter, Elvina Amira, John Lyons hold Rachel.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggFbywWWnSMcy8jPA0tXH4hSe6dsgbp_BCPyLKEo57RjuQooqc_g9RmTOK6iG-HnXo_LtbHWWosKxmVJTQusT5gp_IEt1Yd6fcKZAl0HRJakrj9rYMq1f__zmuY6qwP8F06yTJcfis34DG/s1600/TanSiblings1945.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="970" data-original-width="1280" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggFbywWWnSMcy8jPA0tXH4hSe6dsgbp_BCPyLKEo57RjuQooqc_g9RmTOK6iG-HnXo_LtbHWWosKxmVJTQusT5gp_IEt1Yd6fcKZAl0HRJakrj9rYMq1f__zmuY6qwP8F06yTJcfis34DG/s320/TanSiblings1945.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Tannahill siblings at their father's funeral in 1945: <br />Top Left: John Theodore "Ted", William, Richard, & Sam </span><span style="font-size: small;">Bottom Left: Rachel, George, & Elvina "Viney"</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi146EMPgfoLIFZerIsWSsKM5b_msJtik-g_BNo9QfDY4k5ztCSKgVR2mbVN7CtylvNojU2MvuSURPbd_NBRZMaDFN1LnIGqCSgD2eMRNI7O2NWPULBDCIN8A6buu3d0jdQ0OwNiOGRa5XY/s1600/Richard%2526Rachel-1922.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="979" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi146EMPgfoLIFZerIsWSsKM5b_msJtik-g_BNo9QfDY4k5ztCSKgVR2mbVN7CtylvNojU2MvuSURPbd_NBRZMaDFN1LnIGqCSgD2eMRNI7O2NWPULBDCIN8A6buu3d0jdQ0OwNiOGRa5XY/s320/Richard%2526Rachel-1922.jpg" width="193" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLSur0H467VwRCUBHWU-aRAHrelYU9NVP_6VRhIl0Hx9NIrxQCoQU6H26PYN2IKD0OlkBo-5ToJcuBA8chAZdiV4BB9yFVspuHZVyziU0pXPMnZUUX5yIko5ErhmiasFZdFy72TV6V9AHY/s1600/Richard%2526Rachel-1920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1019" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLSur0H467VwRCUBHWU-aRAHrelYU9NVP_6VRhIl0Hx9NIrxQCoQU6H26PYN2IKD0OlkBo-5ToJcuBA8chAZdiV4BB9yFVspuHZVyziU0pXPMnZUUX5yIko5ErhmiasFZdFy72TV6V9AHY/s320/Richard%2526Rachel-1920.jpg" width="201" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A couple of views of the twins - I think the top one is around 1925 and the lower one is probably a few years earlier.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">The two pictures below are the ones that I have seen my entire life on the wall in mother's bedroom. These two were framed and in my mother's home while she was growing up and she got them from her mother in 1960. They are still hanging in our today!</span></h2>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg80hsIGRWTgCBqR_S8vQfsDwzxSMehgfwQDSIxiDdOTfVrmPe49yE7-dLPC1nrxdjhrv7dC4C4aCThaQl2c1Czj9qMiFSxqEixlwRbC2cHXH7sLVB1JLAfT-HOKbMWWHqY5pX8BXES4K3g/s1600/Richard%2526Lynx.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1298" data-original-width="840" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg80hsIGRWTgCBqR_S8vQfsDwzxSMehgfwQDSIxiDdOTfVrmPe49yE7-dLPC1nrxdjhrv7dC4C4aCThaQl2c1Czj9qMiFSxqEixlwRbC2cHXH7sLVB1JLAfT-HOKbMWWHqY5pX8BXES4K3g/s320/Richard%2526Lynx.jpg" width="207" /></a></td></tr>
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This might be one of my Mom's favorite pictures of her parents. Probably because that was how she saw them day to day. Her Daddy in his overalls and fedora and her Momma in her work dress. This was probably taken not too long before Richard died in 1947.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0pyIWSBfYkjrViaMnXlJq73IPXJ_Tm51aPA1McKdlKr42g5lKqAactyWVgAnhbxFUJLS9X5Nuhc677-5YtmkpJpYJqpxDhTc9lXm2fYPpWs4zAdffOdX6eeckoH91X8XqdIdAkJu607E4/s1600/Cappy%2526Richard3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: start;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1417" data-original-width="907" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0pyIWSBfYkjrViaMnXlJq73IPXJ_Tm51aPA1McKdlKr42g5lKqAactyWVgAnhbxFUJLS9X5Nuhc677-5YtmkpJpYJqpxDhTc9lXm2fYPpWs4zAdffOdX6eeckoH91X8XqdIdAkJu607E4/s320/Cappy%2526Richard3.jpg" width="204" /></a></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">One of the few complete family pictures. This was taken in 1945 at John Lyons Tannahill's funeral. My mother, Betty is the little girl standing while her older sister, Joan is sitting.<br /></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">Sad to say that everyone has passed away who was in these pictures. My grandmother died in 1985, my mother in 2005 and her sister, Joan in 2012. That little family is all gone who were complete until they lost their father 70 years ago today!</span></div>
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CarmenMJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12928765351501514151noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3448423006815238271.post-16459054732299369652017-10-17T21:12:00.000-07:002017-10-17T21:12:02.797-07:00Ancestral Characters...<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I enjoy watching programs like “Who Do You Think You Are” and Henry Louis Gates series “Finding Your Roots!” I was bitten by the genealogy bug many years ago….probably even when I was a child because I loved listening to the stories of my grandparents and various other relatives. The guests find that their family mysteries are seemingly solved with a short TV episode, although I must say they are missing out on all of the fun.</span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-ec84d803-2da8-6439-6015-1d51425c671b" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Genealogy is a journey! There are a lot of interesting stops along the way, but always something new on the horizon. There are even walls that may take years to tear down if ever. Every few years there seems to be some new tools to add to the treasure chest. Like those programs, I am picking and choosing some “interesting ancestors.” My great great grandfather who had 17 children. He was married to one sister, ran off with another sister and after she died, married a “widow” who turned out to be a divorcee. In the early 1900’s, this was somewhat of a scandal. Here are the blogs I wrote about George Christian Shawver:</span></div>
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<a href="http://genheirlooms.blogspot.com/2014/07/george-christian-shawver-1st-family.html" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">George Christian Shawver - 1st Family</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://genheirlooms.blogspot.com/2014/07/george-christian-shawver-2nd-family.html" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">George Christian Shawver - 2nd Family</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://genheirlooms.blogspot.com/2014/08/george-christian-shawver-3rd-family.html" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">George Christian Shawver - 3rd Family</span></a></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My 10th great grandfather has all of the credentials of a hero and significant figure in history. He was the first man to navigate Boston harbor. That probably doesn’t sound all that important to today’s generations but to someone in 1630 it was significant. Ships could navigate in a safe passage in and out of Boston, which could arguably be called one of the most important cities in Colonial America. He really was one of the more important people of his generation.</span></div>
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<a href="http://genheirlooms.blogspot.com/2012/02/john-gallop-10th-great-grandfather.html" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">John Gallop - 10th Great Grandfather</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://genheirlooms.blogspot.com/2017/01/john-gallopthe-rest-of-story.html" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">John Gallop - The rest of the story</span></a></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I have Mayflower ancestors that came on that first ship. Elizabeth Tilley was a teenager whose parents died during that first winter and she ended up marrying one the two bachelors who made the trip, namely John Howland. There are a lot descendants who can claim ancestry to John Howland and Elizabeth Tilley. (</span><a href="http://genheirlooms.blogspot.com/2011/11/my-mayflower-ancestry-pt-1.html" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mayflower Ancestry - Part 1</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">) </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Then there is John Billington. He was considered to be the troublemaker of the group causing constant tension among the passengers. His two boys nearly blew up the ship during the journey playing with flint around gun powder. John Billington also turned out to be the first man hung for murder in the new world. (</span><a href="http://genheirlooms.blogspot.com/2011/11/my-mayflower-ancestry-pt-2.html" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mayflower Ancestry - Part 2</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">)</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">William White was one of the nearly ⅓ of the passengers who died that first winter. There is a lot to be admired anyone who undertook the journey on the Mayflower. These people didn’t know what they would face and took the hazardous trip to be able to practice their religious beliefs without the interference of a government. William White’s wife, Susanna ended up marrying the first governor of the colony, Edward Winslow..who turns out to be my 9th great grandfather’s older brother. (</span><a href="http://genheirlooms.blogspot.com/2011/11/my-mayflower-ancestry-pt-3.html" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mayflower Ancestry - Part 3</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">) Kenelm was quite an interesting fellow as well…(</span><a href="http://genheirlooms.blogspot.com/2012/06/coffin-maker-in-new-england.html" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Coffin Make in New England</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">)</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My father’s great grandfather (Washington Abraham Johnson) was a 1st cousin to Pres. Andrew Johnson which is interesting enough. However, his younger brother Nicholas Johnson was interesting in his own way. If you talk to his family members, Nicholas disappeared after the Civil War and ran off to California abandoning his wife and children as well as aged father. I am not sure I will ever find what happened to him. (</span><a href="http://genheirlooms.blogspot.com/2012/02/nicholas-johnson-man-of-mystery.html" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Nicholas Johnson - Man of Mystery</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">)</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There are a lot more characters in my ancestry. I had ancestors who were among the first settlers here and as far as I can find, I don’t have an ancestor who arrived any later than 1810. I have been very lucky, I have known 3 great grandmothers, 2 grandmothers, 2 grandfathers, and a great grandfather. Every one of these people have made me who I am. I am not like most of those celebrities in those TV shows because I do know a lot about my history. When I began doing research more formally, I did it with my mother. Mom was my best resource for stories about her family and many years ago she took the initiative on long ago conversation with her father in law to give us a great starting point on his family. We lost Mom back in 2005 - I know she is breaking down all those brick walls...sure wish she could tell me what she has learned. This is my favorite picture of my Mom...in her signature red, her favorite color. </span></div>
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<br />CarmenMJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12928765351501514151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3448423006815238271.post-73090808537107589462017-08-31T12:40:00.002-07:002017-08-31T12:40:56.652-07:00Goodbye Uncle Karl<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNfLXcZiL7mkLwaqy8WfxUmDXvK0rQSfETJFks5PlF4iROGeIucGQTGKmItYUlisdpAv9flHJS16AklPujD5cefX6y9l4oyFyBiHdFvsmf4aUFwe87ZCisqYhd9uMEF6egFG4QAEXb4Djx/s1600/Karl+%2526+Shirley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1277" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNfLXcZiL7mkLwaqy8WfxUmDXvK0rQSfETJFks5PlF4iROGeIucGQTGKmItYUlisdpAv9flHJS16AklPujD5cefX6y9l4oyFyBiHdFvsmf4aUFwe87ZCisqYhd9uMEF6egFG4QAEXb4Djx/s320/Karl+%2526+Shirley.jpg" width="255" /></a></div>
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It was just about a month ago I was thinking that I needed
to have my uncle over for dinner. My
plan was to wait until it cooled off as we were in the middle of a heat
wave. Uncle Karl was very fond of my
meatloaf and that seems like a meal for fall rather than the hot summer. However, it looks like it was not to be as he
passed away on Aug 14, 2017. Life had
been harder for Karl the past few years.
For 56 years of his life, he was half of a pair, and when his wife
Shirley passed away 2 years ago on July 1, 2015, it seemed that the light when
out of his life.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Karl grew up in Moscow, ID.
I don’t suppose life was all that different than any other kid who lives
in a rural area. His Dad worked at the
University of Idaho in the farm area and Karl and his siblings played around
the various farm animals. His sister,
Paula, relates how they ran around as kids wearing only cotton overalls,
cowboy hats with cap guns in their holsters.
Playing around as if they were members of the Jesse James gang. They moved to another house that had a creek
running through it. The kids enjoyed
playing baseball in the cow pasture. As
Paula relates it, they used cow pies as bases so when the game was done at the
end of the day, big brother Karl would strip them down and hose them off before
they were allowed to go into the house.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I can honestly say that those stories don’t surprise me but
they were nothing like the Karl I knew.
That is mostly because I didn’t really get to know Karl until I was an
adult. I didn’t have time for adults
when my cousins were around to play with.
In fact, it is sometimes difficult to see an older member of the family
has a child or a young man. I can
remember Karl relating a story of he, my Dad, and uncle Bill taking a trip down
to Mackay Bar (remote area along Salmon River, Idaho) Evidently it was quite a
narrow and treacherous road – if you asked my Dad, he would tell you it was a
good road. Anyway, the three guys, all
in the 20’s, were three abreast in Dad’s car and one of them was holding a bag
of potato chips. My Dad (Gene) was
driving and kept reaching across to grab some chips. Karl had the opinion that Dad should keep his
hands on the wheel! It was funny
listening to Karl, Bill and Dad squabble about the relative safety of that road
trip 50 years after it had happened.
Parts of the story never changed – Karl’s opinion that Dad needed to
keep his hands on the wheel and the problem they found at the bottom of the
road. Somehow, they were out of gas and
the only gas available was some old airplane gas at the bottom of the
hill. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJOP26VvlpZMxWSZaPnYInkpX9UiB0CcYdk6eOYmSHyxcuOzZak6xpWu7rcfkjmbvwMxolSHyfMWYgNcdxur5c_PxlRMVjcFE_UR1EWOXE_GM6azcSuR0KdlICS_2VFR3LKH6ubj5_d1Ah/s1600/Shirley+and+Karl%2527s+wedding.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1472" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJOP26VvlpZMxWSZaPnYInkpX9UiB0CcYdk6eOYmSHyxcuOzZak6xpWu7rcfkjmbvwMxolSHyfMWYgNcdxur5c_PxlRMVjcFE_UR1EWOXE_GM6azcSuR0KdlICS_2VFR3LKH6ubj5_d1Ah/s320/Shirley+and+Karl%2527s+wedding.jpg" width="294" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Left to Right - Anne Johnson Bell, Shirley & Karl & Eugene<br />Anne and Eugene are Shirley's siblings.</td></tr>
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Karl married Shirley on January 24, 1959 and he became a
part of the Johnson/Gage clan, whether he wanted to or not. My Dad was always closer with his two older
sisters and they were geographically closer together than his other two
siblings. It was Gene and Betty (my
folks), Karl & Shirley and Bill & Anne.There were a lot of shared
memories with my Dad (Shirley’s older brother) and Uncle Bill (married to
Shirley’s younger sister, Anne). Karl,
Dad & Bill essentially became brothers.
So, the three couples joined together for a lot of dinners and visits.
They hadn’t had much time after they had been married a while. Between 1958 and 1967 there were 13 kids born
between the three families. However, when the kids were all out of the house,
the three couples had many dinners together.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Karl was always willing to lend a hand and when you thanked
him, he would reply “This is what you do for family!” There were a lot of occasions when Karl &
Shirley showed up to help out with one project or another. I especially saw this the last 20 years or
so. The Karl I knew had a gentle
smile. He was a bit on the crochety side
occasionally, but that was something Shirley could usually charm out of
him. Karl and Shirley spent a lot of
years as camp hosts up on the Lochsa. It
appealed to both of them – Shirley enjoyed the social side of it and Karl
enjoyed the camping and spending time wandering around the land. The two of them went on many adventures on
the 6x6. Those wonderful adventures
ended much too soon as Shirley passed away rather quickly two years ago. It was though the light went out of his eyes,
and I wondered how long we would have Karl.
Life wasn’t much fun without his life partner. However, Karl made an effort – mostly because
he knew Shirley would want him to. I
remember when I had some medical issues last year, I picked up the phone and
Karl was on the other end. I assumed he
was calling for Dad, but he stopped me and asked me how I was feeling. Then he told me to let him know if there was
any way he could help. I suppose in the
end that is the way I will think about Uncle Karl…offering his help if he was
needed! <o:p></o:p></div>
CarmenMJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12928765351501514151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3448423006815238271.post-55540892367888800862017-08-23T10:23:00.001-07:002017-08-23T10:23:52.230-07:00Early Tannahills & Jones in Idaho - Sam Tannahill<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLNzgL4eQJMBE9Mp4cmWhUZbkne96BBdtH3C6RPpj47TOVb-TZKDe7RC_DO0KqZKenaVqUVMtGdX_z34TG1wnN-Xqv5lBi10xM0xmO4VOmkgJUt0vbJPr5BbhFS-t6uEua1-uO8h4xtEUt/s1600/Sam%2526John.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="779" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLNzgL4eQJMBE9Mp4cmWhUZbkne96BBdtH3C6RPpj47TOVb-TZKDe7RC_DO0KqZKenaVqUVMtGdX_z34TG1wnN-Xqv5lBi10xM0xmO4VOmkgJUt0vbJPr5BbhFS-t6uEua1-uO8h4xtEUt/s320/Sam%2526John.jpg" width="243" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brothers - John Lyons Tannahill sitting and<br />Samuel Oliver Tannahill standing behind.<br />Taken about 1930</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I have always been interested in local history. I knew that my mother's family came to the Lewiston, ID area in the 1920's and my Dad's family was in the Princeton, ID area in 1935. However, if I look a little deeper, I find that I actually have family on my mother's family that was here much earlier. If you work on the premise that one of the reasons an individual or family moves to an area because they relatives already there, I suspect that it is a significant connection.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">My grandfather, Oliver Richard Tannahill moved to Idaho with his father in the mid 1920's. I suspect it was around 1926 or so. Why did John Lyons Tannahill (my great grandfather) decide on Idaho instead of another location. It turns out that he had two full brothers and two half brothers who lived in the area, one of those is Samuel Oliver Tannahill. </span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_VAs44n8EmqzQQoxN3XTeb-S9nnGeU0Q-owzny84o5OoZ8v6v3w30tjCK4E2cc2CKvnycEsR8pvH1xVVUPIdMoGR_OCGIJLAKbr1DK7GmvFp2C62PkoMr-gnNEr-fMHuk80sfziqjUpiy/s1600/ElmiraJones.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="841" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_VAs44n8EmqzQQoxN3XTeb-S9nnGeU0Q-owzny84o5OoZ8v6v3w30tjCK4E2cc2CKvnycEsR8pvH1xVVUPIdMoGR_OCGIJLAKbr1DK7GmvFp2C62PkoMr-gnNEr-fMHuk80sfziqjUpiy/s320/ElmiraJones.jpg" width="262" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Almira Jones m. John Tannahill & Sam Pennell<br />Sam's mother</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Samuel Oliver Tannahill was the second child of Almira Jones and John Tannahill. His older brother died at birth, so in essence he was the oldest. Sam was born 10 Aug 1868 in Elden Wapello Co., IA. He had two younger brothers, George William Tannahill (1871-1917) and John Lyons Tannahill (1873-1945). Sam's father died in 1873 just before John Lyons Tannahill was born. Almira remarried a few years later on 8 Jun 1875 in Montgomery, KS to Samuel Wesley Pennell. By all accounts, Sam Pennell treated his step sons well, but they all left home fairly early to make their own way in the world. Almira and Sam Pennell also had four more sons (Robert, Charles, Grover "Pat", Thomas Franklin) and three daughters (Maude, Mollie & Celia). </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The first record that I find on Samuel Oliver Tannahill in the general was in 1889 in Garfield Co., WA (likely close to present day, Pomeroy, WA). Sam married his first wife, Alice R Cox on 6 Oct 1897 in Nez Perce Co., ID. According to his obituary he was "<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #36322d;">a leading citizen of Lewiston and prominent as an attorney in central Idaho since 1905, practicing most of the time since in Lewiston, democratic national committeeman from Idaho and well known all over the northwest." (Obit published Lewiston Morning Tribune 31 Dec 1935) All I really knew about Sam Tannahill was that he had been an attorney and had been fairly prominent in the Democratic party in Idaho until his death. His obituary explains that he was elected as assessor in Nez Perce Co., ID in 1894 as well as serving on the city council. He also worked in a store in Ilo (present day Craigmont, ID) and also worked as an abstractor. He saved enough money to go to </span><span style="color: #36322d;">Valparaiso</span><span style="color: #36322d;">, IN for Law School. This is yet another example of going somewhere where family is or was located. I know from my own research that Sam Tannahill likely had Harrington relatives who lived near Valparaiso. His grandmother's family (Hulda Harrington) grandparents had died in Valparaiso, IN. It may be an interesting coincidence, but then it may not be either. Both Sam and his brother, George William Tannahill went to Valparaiso and returned to Idaho to practice law. Sam ended up being the prosecuting attorney for Lewis Co., ID (Nezperce) for several terms. He actually had been in partnership with his brother in Lewiston, ID as well. After George died in a car accident in 1915, Sam returned to Lewiston permanently. </span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #36322d;"><br /></span></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #36322d;">Sam was involved in virtually every capacity within the Democratic party in early Idaho including be a representative to the national committee. While I think Sam Tannahill's business life was very good and impressive...I am not sure the same can be said of his private life. Sam was first married to Alice R Cox on 6 Oct 1897 in Nez Perce Co., ID. He was still married to her in the 1910 census, but they must have divorced between 1910 and 1917, because Sam marries again on 11 Sept 1917 to Ella Patterson in Spokane, WA. Alice has not died and in fact remarries to Harry Lydon, the county treasurer sometime before the 1920 census when they are recorded together.</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #36322d;"><br /></span></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #36322d;">Ella died on 15 Oct 1923. According to her death record, Ella died at age 46 of an embolism. Sam marries again on 6 May 1925 to Josephine Krier. Sam died himself of a cerebral hemorrhage on 30 Dec 1935 in Lewiston, ID.</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #36322d;"><br /></span></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #36322d;">I don't know as much about Sam from family stories other than a few tidbits I picked up from my mother. I think that my great grandfather (John Lyons Tannahill) brought his two youngest children when he moved to Idaho, probably sometime around 1926-1928. (Oliver Richard Tannahill & Olive Rachel Tannahill) I can only guess that the reason John Lyons Tannahill came to Idaho was because his only surviving full brother lived in Idaho. My grandfather, O. Richard Tannahill finished high school in Lewiston, ID. I have often wondered if Sam had some influence on my grandfather finishing high school and spending a short time in college. In 1930, life had to be pretty difficult because of the depression. For Grandpa Richard to have completed his education makes me believe that Sam possibly helped his brother's family financially. I also know from what my mother said that Grandpa Richard was very fond of Sam and that both my grandparents were quite upset when he passed away. </span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #36322d;"><br /></span></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #36322d;">Most of my information about Samuel Oliver Tannahill comes from an obituary and a write-up on early Idaho history. He was a significant enough figure, that there was quite a bit written in an early Idaho history that was published. I know that he was an important attorney in the area having been the first prosecuting attorney for Lewis Co., ID and was appointed by the governor of Idaho at the time. In addition, Sam was quite active in the Idaho politics until his death in 1935. Beyond his personal acclaim as a lawyer and local citizen, I suspect that he must have had an important personal connection with my grandfather and perhaps gave him the type of guidance and support needed to become a good businessman.</span></span></span></span>CarmenMJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12928765351501514151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3448423006815238271.post-21403922637302978342017-08-10T19:32:00.003-07:002017-08-10T19:33:42.311-07:00My Pennington Past - My PRA MembershipI began seriously researching my Pennington family 20 years ago and began that search by joining the Pennington Research Association. It has been a very valuable contact for me and resource. Today we would call it networking, but anyone who has done genealogy research has been doing networking for a long time.<br />
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Genealogy was a different hobby back then. Email was available but most correspondence was done by postal mail or snail mail as most would call it. Joining a genealogy society or surname association was an important way to share information and gather data and resources. Those early societies not only provided data via journals or newsletters, but they also provided contacts with other researchers who had similar interests. It is invigorating to "meet" someone with similar research interests. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8fg_sBi9AQE76wHdRsYII_kXw4pbK3OiwBoyw4Awq4VoLE0DuPYLGcBO1zvHuDJZzcd_BNA_Ea-6Nbqa8Xz5rIi4_lxiL6nrWDiJ59oAPOvT7ut-paj5oFuv9QvF_RgGl7O__XYZlv6Ss/s1600/Family+tree-Capitola.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1227" data-original-width="1600" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8fg_sBi9AQE76wHdRsYII_kXw4pbK3OiwBoyw4Awq4VoLE0DuPYLGcBO1zvHuDJZzcd_BNA_Ea-6Nbqa8Xz5rIi4_lxiL6nrWDiJ59oAPOvT7ut-paj5oFuv9QvF_RgGl7O__XYZlv6Ss/s320/Family+tree-Capitola.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My grandmother's embroidered family tree.</td></tr>
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As I said, email was available, just not that common. I think my first email account was in the early 1990's which I still have, although it is not my main account...in fact, I don't even use it that often any more. The first thing I tell anyone who is starting to do genealogy research is that whomever is beginning that journey needs to get what they know spelled out. Whether they are using a genealogy program or a piece of paper, you need to spend time getting what you know recorded. It is only then you can begin to add the various bits and pieces that help you learn more about those you search for. I had what I knew written down. It was really that much...I had a simple family tree that had been embroidered on material in a frame on the wall. On that family tree, my great grandmother's grandmother was listed as Elizabeth Pennington. <br />
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Anyone who has spent much time doing genealogy research especially doing surname studies will find that there are certain names that are repeated quite often. Not only will you find these common names, but you will also find a multitudes of names because they popular during that time period. If you don't think this happens, ask any teacher what the popular names of the day are. There are a multitude of Elizabeth's among the Penningtons. The most important part of my initial contact with the PRA (Pennington Research Association) was the identification of who my 3rd great grandmother was and how she fit into the larger group of the Penningtons. That information was provided to me by John French who was the Research Director at the time. He had spent a lot of time building a data file about all the Penningtons that he had come across. There were a lot mistakes as would be the case on any data file that includes information and theories mixed together. A great deal of this information was traded back and forth through email which certainly introduced me to one of the best methods of contact for my own research. John French passed away not too long after we had this contact.<br />
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Not everything that John French told me is correct according to my own research. I have so much more available to me now in terms of data than I did 20 years ago. I can access census records or death records at my fingerprints through the internet. I can have instantaneous contact with a fellow research across the country. Not only can I access the data but I can access digital copies and photos of what other researchers have done.<br />
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So, what is the point of being a member of a genealogical society or surname association...I believe an important aspect of that membership is networking. Just like social networking today - it isn't a valuable tool unless you participate. There is always new information to learn and perhaps new eyes can see or perceive information than those who have gone before. It is an opportunity to add to what has been learned, but also help those just beginning their "journey" on their first steps. There are so many who have done that for me...some that I still correspond and talk to quite frequently to this day. I would suggest that if you are going to take up genealogy as a serious hobby, you consider joining or participating in some sort of group that can help you along the way. <br />
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I am and have been a member of news-lists communicating via email, surname association groups, county and state genealogy associations. In addition, I run and am a member of Facebook groups, a participant in FindAGrave.com as well as communicating my research through my websites and my genealogy blog. It is impossible to even guess at how much assistance that has been given to me by others and the value of what I have been able to provide for others. So you might consider joining a surname association like the PRA, and spend time to add to their library of research so you can build better information, make valuable genealogy contacts and perhaps help others as well. You might find that in the end, you are the one who benefits the most.CarmenMJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12928765351501514151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3448423006815238271.post-7340320487251140992017-06-23T20:51:00.002-07:002017-06-23T20:51:22.785-07:00Genealogy Pockets - Carter Co., TNWhenever I really dive in and research a family...especially one that has been in the same region for a long time, I spend a little extra time on allied families. More times than not, these allied families have showed up in interesting ways. There are good reasons that I spend extra time on these families. Of late, I have been spending some time on Carter Co., TN and the Johnson family.<br />
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My 3rd great grandfather was <b>Moses Johnson </b>b. abt 1788 in NC possibly Randolph Co., NC. He married <b>Nancy Mayfield </b>on 6 May 1816 in Granville Co., NC. They had 5 children:<br />
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<b>Henderson William Johnson</b> b. 2 May 1817 Greensboro, Guilford Co., NC d. 29 Dec 1883, Valeria, Jasper Co., IA m. 12 Dec 1844 to Jane Carmeline Humphreys<br />
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<b>Washington Abraham Johnson</b> b. 25 Oct 1819 Greensboro, Guilford Co., NC d. 14 Feb 1917 in Kirkman, Shelby Co., IA m. 20 Aug 1855 Jefferson Co., TN to Mary Ann Smith<br />
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<b>Martha Ann Johnson</b> b. abt 1823 Guilford Co., NC d. abt 1862 Carter Co., TN m. 1 Jun 1839 Guilford Co., NC to Grenville C Walker<br />
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<b>Nancy Jane Emily Johnson </b>b. 27 Aug 1827 Guilford Co., NC d. 1 Oct 1908 Elwood, Madison Co., IL m. 23 Feb 1836 Guilford Co., NC to James Franklin Ballard<br />
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<b>Nicholas Moses Johnson</b> b. abt 1828 d. Unknown m. 14 Nov 1854 Carter Co., TN to Mary Ann Jenkins<br />
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At some time between the census record in 1840 where Moses Johnson was recorded in Guilford Co., NC and 1844 when Henderson Johnson marries Jane Humphreys, the Johnson family moved from North Carolina to Carter Co., TN. I have my own theories about why they left North Carolina. I know that one of Moses Johnson's nephews was actually hung for murder and he had other family members who were in legal trouble. Having said that, I can only guess because I know of no documentation to tell me otherwise. When I first started piecing the family together, I spent a lot time looking at the family of Nicholas Johnson and I spent a lot time piecing information together on his descendants because they stayed in the Carter Co., TN area. At the time, I thought he was the only one whose family stayed there. Nicholas dissappears after the Civil War and no one knows exactly what happened to him. ( See <a href="http://genheirlooms.blogspot.com/2012/02/nicholas-johnson-man-of-mystery.html">Nicholas Johnson - Man of Mystery.</a> ) However, his family stayed in Carter Co., TN and after my visit there in 2003, my interest was piqued. I met one of the descendants of Nicholas Moses Johnson and learned something about a lot of things that I had never heard. There was nothing neat and tidy about the Nicholas Johnson family and there were ties to local families like: Peters, Campbells, Olivers, Potters and Goodwins. So, I spent time adding information gleaned from cemetery records, census records, marriage records and other peoples research about the families. I made a few family contacts and learned a lot of information. However, my focus was drawn to other families.<br />
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Since that time I have added info about Henderson and Nancy's descendants, but the Martha Johnson branch remained stubbornly elusive. The only twig that I had some success with was Martha's son, Nicholas Walker who married his first cousin Laura Mayfield Johnson. (See <a href="http://genheirlooms.blogspot.com/2012/09/nicholas-walker-laura-mayfield-johnson.html">Nicholas Walker and Laura Mayfield Johnson</a>) However, thanks to another researcher and descendant Brock McIntosh the floodgates have opened.<br />
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It turns out that part of Martha Johnson Walker's family stayed in Carter Co., TN. It also turns out that many of the families that I had researched while pursuing Nicholas Moses Johnson's descendants showed up in Martha Johnson's descendants as well and perhaps a bit too closely. Martha had a great grandson named John Alexander Potter b. 3 Jan 1882 Carter Co., TN d. 21 Jan 1973 Sullivan Co., TN who was married to Bonnie Johnson b. 26 Aug 1891 Hampton, Carter Co., TN d. 25 Aug 1939. John was the son of Hester McIntosh (granddaughter of Martha) and William Potter. Hester's father and William's mother were siblings. Bonnie was the daughter of Daniel Oliver Johnson and Nancy Elizabeth Campbell and therefore the granddaughter of Nicholas Moses Johnson.<br />
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So...Bonnie married her 1st cousin, once removed and John Alexander Potter and Bonnie Johnson's children have in their lines many of the most well known families of Carter Co., TN. Of course, I am a bit partial to the Johnson name (I am descended from Washington Abraham Johnson). On that branch you will find Campbell, Goodwin, Jenkins, and Bradley. On the Potter branch you will find McIntosh, Johnson, Walker, and Justice. <br />
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Now, you can't define a "genealogy pocket" group without a lot of research. In my case, this doesn't only involve the Johnson/Walker line, but also involves multiple other family groups. You only find these groups when you find the parents and siblings and multiple connections. It takes a lot of time and research to figure out who these families are and where they have connections. The families who are in my Carter Co., TN "genealogy pocket" are: Johnson, Walker, Campbell, Goodwin, Carden, Oliver, Potter, Peters, & McIntosh. This means when I add a name and spouse - if they have a familiar last name, it is time to figure out where they fit in the Carter Co., puzzle!<br />
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<br />CarmenMJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12928765351501514151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3448423006815238271.post-26319337603615827642017-05-31T16:28:00.002-07:002017-05-31T16:28:45.722-07:00Convicted and EscapedI am a student of history. It was my favorite subject in school and it is what I got my college degree in - B. S. of History, English minor in 1989 at the University of Idaho. Having said that, you could assume that I had some knowledge of the Salem Witch trials. It was a surprise to me to find out that I had a distant relationship to one of the accused.<br />
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Lydia Perkins would be my 9th great grandmother. She was born 3 June 1632 in Boston, MA and died 12 Jan 1707 in Ipswich, MA. She was married to Henry Bennett (b. 1629 in London, England d. 3 Oct 1707 in Ipswich, MA). Lydia was the daughter of John Perkins and Judith Gater and had a sister named Mary Perkins. Mary was b. bef 3 Sep 1615 in Hillmorton, Warwickshire, England and d. 20 Dec 1700 in Ipswich, MA. She married Thomas Bradbury in 1636. During one of my genealogical wanderings, I came across a notation about Mary, my 10th great aunt, that she had been tried and convicted during the Salem Witch trials. According to an article by Melisssa Berry in GenealogyMagazine.com - at http://www.genealogymagazine.com/witchcraft.html - Mary was the victim of numerous familial squabbles from the Carr family. Melissa explains that it mainly started when Mary spurned an offer of marriage from George Carr and married Thomas Bradbury. Evidently Mary was so powerful that she caused the death of John Carr by "dethroning his reason" and leaving him "weakened by disease, with disordered fancies." Read the entire article if you get a chance. I had to use that phrase...it was too good not to quote. Mary had to be quite aged at the time of the accusations. The trials occurred during 1692 and Mary was born in 1615 making her 77 years of age. Mary was actually sentenced to death to be hung. Somehow she escaped that fate and died in 1700.<br />
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I have always found the Salem Witch trials an excellent example of what mass hysteria can and does do. It seems like we never seem to learn "our" lesson, because it has happened time and time again. I can't imagine the helplessness that Mary's family had to feel from her husband and children to her siblings, because it seems that it is a very difficult thing to combat. You can look at Mary's grave online which is located at Salisbury Colonial Burying Ground in Salisbury, MA - Go to <a href="https://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GRid=38426363">FAG #38426363</a> . Her gravestone is essentially broken pieces in the photo, not an uncommon occurrence in a gravestone that is 300 years old. <br />
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I am related to Mary Bradbury through my 3rd great grandmother, Belinda Willey. Here is my line starting with my grandparents.<br />
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Frank Stewart Johnson m. Helen Marian age<br />
Shirlie Louisa Pope m. Ulpian Grey Johnson<br />
Winslow Lonsdale Pope m. Nancy Ann Marie Lyons<br />
Belinda Willey m. Francis Pope<br />
Eber Willey m. Elizabeth McFarland<br />
Abel Willey m. Mercy Fowler<br />
Abel Willey m. Patience Beckwith<br />
Rose Bennett m. Isaac Willey<br />
Henry Bennett m. Sarah Champion<br />
Henry Bennett m. Lydia Perkins<br />
John Perkins m. Judith Gater (Parents of Mary Perkins Bradbury)<br />
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My Grandpa Frank used to think there wasn't a whole lot impressive about his family background! I think he might have changed his mind with all the info that we have found through the years about his family!<br />
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<br />CarmenMJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12928765351501514151noreply@blogger.com0