Cemetery Tales - Star Gap/Acre Field Cemetery

It 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.

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.

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 FAG # 74609427 .

Bessie Friddles Cress - Phillipi Cemetery, Johnson Co., TN

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.

Moses Friddles - Hawkins Cemetery, Johnson Co., TN

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.

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.

Remembering Grandma Cappy

31 years ago today I was going to college.  My week started out with the excitement of getting ready to live on my own for the first time in a dorm room at the University of Idaho - by Wednesday, the week had changed.  My grandmother had had a massive heart attack and wasn't expected to survive long and by Saturday morning, she had passed away.  However, I was still expected to go up to get my dorm room, move my stuff in and try to sort things through a bit.  I can remember sitting in my car driving up the Lewiston hill with tears running down my face.  I had never felt so alone - this was something that my Mom and I had been planning and now everything had irrevocably changed.  I came back home and tried to help Mom.  There were so many things that had to be done.  We had to clean the house, answer the door with many of the people who wanted to give us their sympathy.  I suppose the phone calls were the worst.  I can remember answering the call from a dear family member and not wanting to tell them the bad news.  I passed the phone off to one of my siblings.  It is funny now that when a family member dies now - I am usually one of the first people that they call.  They say that I seem to know what to say - experience has taught me a few tricks that I didn't know at 18 years old.

I have more regrets about what I never asked Grandma Cappy than I do any of my other grandparents.  My grandfather died before I really knew what to do or ask (I was 8 years old) but by the time I was 18, I should have known better. That has taught be to embrace some of my older relatives and take the opportunity to listen to their stories and experiences.  I can't tell you how much that has enriched my life.  So in memory of Grandma Cappy - here are a few blogs where she was highlighted!


Going to College
Hunting in Autumn
Graduation Day
A Container for Everything
The Most Important Women in My Life
My Grandmothers Life During the Depression
Grandma's Diaries
A Wedding Getaway?
My Favorite Assignment
Happy Birthday Grandma Cappy

My Mom - Betty and her sister Joan - taken at Grandma Cappy's funeral in 1985.

Grandpa Gwen's Last Memorial Day

This is one of my least favorite pictures of my grandparents - but it is as they looked shortly before my grandmother died in 1985.  This is Gwen Shearer and Capitola Ester Friddle Tannahill Shearer!

We have always made a big deal out of Memorial Day in our family.  It was a time of work, visiting and family...that usually involved visits to the cemetery.  You might say that those memories helped me enjoy family history even more than I already do...because I remember those stories and there aren't a lot of family members who do anymore...because those are some of the graves that I visit.

My grandmother, Capitola Friddle Tannahill Shearer (FAG  #38384311) died in August of 1985 and she is buried up at Lewis Clark Memorial Gardens in the Lewiston Orchards (Lewiston, ID).  Shortly after she died, Grandpa Gwen asked my mother if she would like to have her father and brother (Bab Boy Shearer - stillborn - FAG #132465265) moved up to be next to Grandma Cappy.  Richard Tannahill (FAG #38384361) was my mother's natural father who died when she was six years old.  He was also Grandpa Gwen's best friend.  Mom said that when she was a child, she could always talk to Grandpa Gwen about her father.  Grandpa Gwen and my Mom ended up having a special Father/Daughter relationship.  I know that he is my step-grandfather - but he is the only grandfather that I have known.  When Grandpa Gwen asked Mom if she wanted her father moved to lie beside Grandma, I think it was something that she really didn't know she wanted.  So, the arrangements were made.  The funeral home even asked Mom if she wanted to be there when Grandpa Richard was exhumed...Mom said "Absolutely not!!!"

I have never forgotten Memorial Day in 1986.  My mother went all out - she gathered all of the funeral containers from Grandma Cappy's funeral and filled them with the roses that we already had blooming.  When we picked Grandpa Gwen up and went to the cemetery, you could tell that it was especially emotional for him.  I wasn't used to seeing that side of him, so it really made an impact. We set up a chair in front of Grandma's grave so he could sit, and then Mom went to work. Once we had finished decorating Grandma Cappy's grave, the baby's and Granny (Nettie Pearl Moody Shearer FAG# 62326075) and Pop Shearer (Floyd David Shearer FAG#62326029), you could tell that there was a comforting look of satisfaction on his face.  He then made the statement that "it was how it should be...Mama (Grandma Cappy) should have both of us with her!"  Grandpa Gwen then added "but there is no hurry to get there!"  I think that the month of May had been an especially difficult month in many ways.  My brother had graduated from college and I had begun my first year of college.  My grandparents had given us the opportunity to go to college without having to worry about the money to pay for it.  They also helped with a scholarship with Dist. 241 in Idaho Co., ID that gives one student out of each school a scholarship to the University of Idaho and to date there has been over 90 students who have gone to school with the Shearer Scholarship.  (See Graduation Day) The University of Idaho graduation of 1986 not only included my brother but some of those first students who had received the scholarship.  It was a bittersweet day because Grandpa Gwen had lived to see that day and attend that graduation, but my grandmother had not.

After we had gone and taken care of the graves down at Normal Hill Cemetery - (see OK, Pop, Turn Over and The Gravestone) we went out for an early dinner.  Grandpa Gwen decided to splurge and have a steak.  He really didn't have that great of an appetite, but he certainly made a good stab at it...and although there was steak left, that was probably one of the best meals he had had in quite some time...and the rest went home in a doggie bag.  It had been a good day.  He felt that the graves looked good and was satisfied with the day and perhaps life.

That was the last Memorial Day he was alive...he died in January of 1987 and perhaps that was one of his last really good days.  Grandpa was diagnosed with Alzheimers later in 1986 even though we suspected that he had had it a long time.  Mom and I used to make custard for him to have for breakfast.  We started out with bowl that he could spoon out the custard with...and then we had single custard cups, since he couldn't remember how to spoon it out.

Today it is my father and I who take care of the graves.  We have my mother, her parents, her grandparents and my father's parents and grandparents as well as several aunts, uncles, a few cousins and friends.  Almost all of them represent something special to me.  So Memorial Day for me is a chance to still tell stories and spend some time with my family.  It is certainly a duty...but also something that I choose to do.  If I didn't, I think my mother would come back and haunt me!

Happy Birthday Mom!

Today would have been my mother’s 74^th birthday or as she might have put it “the 45^th anniversary of her 29^th birthday!)  Mom (Betty Jean Tannahill Johnson) died on 26 Dec 2005 of lung cancer, so this is the 10^th birthday that we have been without her.  So much has happened in the last 10 years but in some ways it feels like we just lost her.

My Mom was many things.  She was probably one of the most creative and intelligent people that I have ever known.  Anything that she turned her attention to – she did well.  Mom was known as spectacular musician whose voice and talent is still remembered by those who heard her sing and play.  We had some of the most beautiful flowers and roses at our house when I was a teenager and young adult.  Like most things, it was impossible for Mom to only to what was necessary, she had to put her own touch on everything.  Mom got a computer for Christmas one year from Dad – it took her just a few weeks to get past the possibilities of that computer and pretty soon, Mom and Dad were taking a loan out for a state of the art computer and printer.  (This was back in 1980 – I think it cost $ 5,000 for the computer and the printer)  She did things on that computer that most people would never have attempted.  Mom was an early user of the internet, she scanned pictures, she did databases and spreadsheets and publishing all on a computer that operated on two 5 ¼ inch drives.  Mom was talented when it came to organization and used to organize her class reunions and managed the swim meets when I was a child.

Everyone in Mom's small family is gone.  Her father (Oliver Richard Tannahill) died in 1947 and stepfather(Gwen Dean Shearer)  in 1987.  We lost Grandma (Capitola Friddle Tannahill Shearer) in 1985 and Mom's sister (Joan Tannahill Kemp Towle Keeler) survived her by several years, but we lost her three years ago.  

Mom could also be incredible stubborn and impossibly demanding.  She was never satisfied with whatever she did and always wanted to improve on what she was doing.  I wish she would have stopped smoking many years before she did.  Even though she had quit 15 years before she died, it was still a smoker’s tumor that killed her.  We missed Mom so much during these past 10 years – at her grandchildren’s graduations from high school and two from college, two of their weddings.  I don’t have to pick a day to remember Mom, she is always there in my mind.  She has helped me make countless decisions through the years because of the things she taught me.  I have had several friends who have lost parents through the past years and I usually tell them that they will never stop missing them.  I then point out how lucky they were to have a parent like they had.  My mom was unique and only my siblings and I know all that she did for us.  I know that each one of us is thinking about her today and there might be a tear, but there is also a smile!

Probably the way I will always remember Mom - in red with her signature red lipstick!

Earliest picture of my mother - probably spring 1942  (She was born in 1941)

I am guessing Summer 1942 - Everyone has a bathtub baby picture, right?

Happy Birthday, Mom Friddle!

Sophia Dollar and David Carl Friddle
 m. 22 Dec 1908 - Johnson Co., TN 

My memories of my great grandmother are a bit hazy.  She died the day before I turned 12 years old...and there are some memories that I think that remember clearly.  Usually they had to do with her telling me stories that I am relatively sure now were not altogether accurate - but they made a good a story.

Today would have been her birthday, and as these anniversaries pass year by year, I always think about her.  When I hear the saying "They don't make em like they used to!"  Mom Friddle is who I think of...she was a pioneer woman when she came out west at 16 with a 1 year old to live up on Grouse Flats in Wallowa Co., OR.

You might wonder why I refer to her as "Mom Friddle."  It was what my mother always called her.  She and her sister Joan were Mom Friddle's first grandchildren.  Mom Friddle didn't really consider herself old enough to be a grandmother, so therefore she didn't want to be called Grandma.  So, the name stuck and my mother always called her Mom Friddle and called her own mother "Momma!"  I never heard her call either one any differently.

I now know so much more about Mom Friddle.  I have seen the place that she was born, photos of her siblings and of her parents.  I even have a photograph of her as a young child.  I know where her family came from and even have a picture of her maternal grandfather.

Taken about 1895 - Left to Right - Claude Elmer Dollar, John Dula Dollar holding Sophia Vestelle Dollar
& Bessie Margaret Elizabeth Dozier Dollar

However, so much of what I know was told to me by someone else or something I researched.  The few precious memories that I have of her that I know are mine are still very important.  Perhaps the most important one for me personally, was the afternoon I spent down at her house after riding my bike from house down to hers.  This was a big deal...my mother trusted me to ride my bike by myself.  I think there was a couple of miles between our houses.  You probably wouldn't let a kid do that today without adult supervision, but it was a different time back then.  I remember walking into her house and Mom Friddle sitting on the couch with her hankie in her hand.  Mom Friddle's head was always shaking - I think it was Parkinson's disease.  It never really bothered me because she had never really looked any differently.  She was wearing her dark glasses and I can't really say I ever saw her eyes. I knew I was welcomed and what followed was an hour or so of stories.  I now know that most of those stories weren't true...because I tried to research the facts.  Her grandfather wasn't a local sheriff and she didn't likely spend a night in jail cell as a child.  (This wasn't because she was in any trouble - she was staying with her grandfather)  Mom Friddle also didn't probably see a body hanging from a tree reflected on the wall in the cell in the moonlight...but it was a darn good story that definitely impressed me...and creeped me out.

Left to Right - Claude Friddle, Sophia Dollar Friddle, Jack Friddle, Capitola Friddle Shearer

So, today it is her birthday.  It has never been hard to remember as it was a day after my brother's. It would have been her 121st birthday...she died not that long after her 85th birthday, rather close to my own birthday...so yet another date that isn't hard to remember.  So, here are a few links to blogs that I have written about Mom Friddle that you might enjoy!

• Learning to Shoot
• 119 Years Ago Today
• Coffee & Hot Toddies
• Three Great Dames - Happy Thanksgiving
• The Most Important Women in My Life
• OK Pop, Turn Over
• February 8th

Before the Beginning...

I began genealogy research back around 1996 with my mother.  We both began with installing Family Tree Maker and putting in everything that we knew.  We started hitting the local library to see what we could learn and even took my Dad down to Salt Lake City to experience the Family History Library.  It is easy to say that we began our research on that date, but truthfully it started much earlier than that.

Betty (Mom) lower left with her sister, Joan and mother Capitola. - at 1949

My mother spent a lot of her early years around her grandmother and grandfather and had the opportunity to learn family stories first hand.  She was always interested and involved with her grandparents and was fortunate to be able to spend a lot of time with them.  They helped make my mother the person she became.  So essentially, Mom became a storehouse of information and that process didn't stop.  When she married my father, Mom quickly became an important member of Dad's family  I remember her telling me of a visit by her father in law (Frank Johnson) at one point where it was just the two of them.  She said that they sat at the kitchen table and talked about his family.  Mom got out a piece of paper and wrote down what he told her.  That piece of paper became the foundation of most of what we knew about my Grandpa Frank's family.  Mom remembered Grandpa thinking that his family history didn't quite measure up to Grandma Marian's family, so he felt surprised when Mom asked him.  We soon found out that his family was just as impressive as Grandma Marian's, but that would have taken us much longer to find out without the groundwork that my mother had done.

Dad with Grandma Marian and Grandpa Frank - abt 1957

Like my mother, I spent a lot of time listening to the stories of my family members.  I can remember as a child, sitting at the feet of my great grandmothers (Mom Friddle and Granny Shearer) and my mother's godmother (Aunty Jones).  These three ladies were born 1894, 1890, & 1889 respectively. Their stories about riding the stagecoach during their youth in the Lewiston area always stuck in y mind.  It was rather astonishing that it took a full day of travel to travel the same distance that took us 25 minutes in the car.  Later as a junior in high school, I remember getting the opportunity to ask my Grandma Cappy and Grandpa Gwen about their lives during the depression.  As Mom and I began researching, it was my turn to question my mother about the family stories that she had heard as a child.  For several years, we had my great uncle to question as well.  He always said that he didn't know that much, but he knew much more than he thought.

I had my Grandma Marian up until a few years ago and learned a wealth of family stories from her. She took a lot of joy out of the information that Mom and I found and later the information that I found...and participated in our research as well.

So now I have become the storehouse of family stories. Mom passed away almost 10 years ago, all of my grandparents are gone and many of the older family members are no longer with us  There are still a few living and I still try to take the opportunity to learn from them.  However, much of what we have found has been dependent on a lifelong interest in our family stories...and if Mom and I had never sat down and listened to the stories of our older family members, perhaps we wouldn't have the wealth of family history that we now have.  Even though my mother is no longer here, I still think of the genealogy research as "ours" because Mom and I began the journey together.  Before we began that research, we had several lifetimes of stories to start that journey!

Hunting in the Autumn

Hunting has been a part of my family for decades in both and good ways. I can remember each year when I was a child that my father and later my brothers headed off each autumn to a hunting trip. Mom would usually take the meat and hide it in meatloaf, spaghetti, or chili.  One year she made homemade mincemeat which my father still talks about reverently.

Capitola Frddle  - abt 1933

My mother was born in the middle of hunting season.  When my grandmother went into labor, it was her brother, Claude, who took her to the hospital.  Grandma decided after that experience, that she wasn't going to have any more babies if her husband couldn't be around for the birth.  I can remember when my uncle told me that story.  It must have been something else for a 17 year old kid to drive his sister to the hospital while she was having a baby.  However, my grandmother should have known better.  When she first started going out with my grandfather, Richard...she knew that he was a hunter.  While she was teaching, he poached meat (hunted deer) so she could feed her students.  She brought vegetables up from her parent's home and used meat from her boyfriend, and fed her students who rarely had a hot meal during the height of the depression.  She also went with him on hunting camp after they were married and actually went hunting herself.  That all changed when he was killed during a hunting trip for birds with a friend on 9 Nov 1947.  Grandma Cappy never again went hunting - however, she did marry another man who was also hunter.

Richard Tannahill - Around 1930

Grandpa Gwen built a lumber mill in Elk City, ID.  I know that the location and the availability of the lumber was the biggest lure to the area.   However, I have to wonder if he wasn't tempted by the hunting and fishing in the area as well.  Every year, Grandpa would go out and spend a lot of the autumn season hunting and many times, my father went along.  In his later years, he really wasn't able to go hunting as he used to.  I do remember one year when he went on a hunting trip with my father and brothers.

My brother's have told me that it was one of their most memorable hunting trips.  They were hunting at Eagle Creek which is on the Salmon river in Idaho.  While my brothers and father spent the day hunting, Grandpa spent the day fishing.  Each of them got their deer on that trip.  Grandpa Gwen proved to be an exemplary camp cook and they had the benefit of eating fresh liver and heart for breakfast.  It doesn't sound all that tempting to me...but they certainly enjoyed it.

John Bernard Gage - hunting with dog Scipio

I have talked to some who don't understand why we hunt.  I know that when the men in my family hunt, the antlers might be put on display but I know the meat was not wasted.  Perhaps it was made into sausage or pepperoni.  I know that my grandmother was incredibly excited to get an elk roast.    Nothing was wasted.  I also know that my father and his father hunted to provide meat for their family just as my mother's father did.  In our family, just like many other families in the region, hunting was a whole lot more than just something they did every fall.  Hunting was means of putting meat on the table to help feed the family during the winter.

So...it has become an annual tradition in our family that the men in my family go off to enjoy a hunting weekend during the opening of hunting season. I prepare my mother's chili in large quantity and send along for the hunting getaway.  During the last several years, I have gone to Spokane and my sister in law and I enjoy our own hunting expedition...except we are shopping.

Going to College

During the past few weeks, I have been observing friends begin the journey of taking their children off to college for the first time.  It has made me remember that summer before my first year in college and what my grandmother told me about her first year.  The experiences couldn't be more different – but there are some things that still remain the same.

Grandma Cappy at the top of the pyramid - 1932 Lewis Clark Normal Tumbling Team

When my grandmother left for college, she didn’t go far.  However, I bet her journey to school took her longer than my drive from Lewiston, ID to Moscow, ID (University of Idaho).  Her trip to school involved a horse on most days and she road from the Lewiston Orchards down to the Lewis Clark Normal School (today’s Lewis Clark State College).  I had money in the bank to pay for tuition and books – Grandma Cappy’s father butchered a hog and sold it to pay for that tuition and necessary books.  There were student loans available in my day, but my grandparents had made sure that when it was time for me to go to college, there would be money available.  

Many of today’s students have to rely on student loans to get them to college.  They have microwaves, laptop computers and matching bedding.  I look at what these kids today are taking to college with a bit of wonder and envy.  I am sure my grandmother must have felt the same about my preparations.  I had a refrigerator and electric typewriter and a car to take me to school.

 

That summer before my first year of college was full of a lot of changes for me.  I had never even driven a car outside the Lewiston – Clarkston valley.  Just after graduation, one of my friend’s parents gave us a weekend up at Three Rivers resort which was a few hours’ drive up the river.  So, that was my first drive outside of the valley on my own.  Then later that summer we traveled down to Santa Rosa, CA to help my Uncle Jack and his wife, Hilda move from Santa Rosa to Roseburg, OR.  I was tasked with driving the little car that Uncle Jack drove around during errands which was a Chevette as I recall.  It had a working radio –but where we were traveling, there was no radio signal.  I had a problem staying awake driving in our little convoy heading north…but I made it.  I can still remember sitting on the floor in my Uncle’s new house with my older brother and parents.  As we set there discussing numerous topics, my mother told my uncle that he needed to make a trip to Lewiston soon to visit my grandmother (his younger sister).  My grandmother’s heart was failing and Mom didn’t know how much longer she would live.  This was sobering news for Uncle Jack.  Grandma Cappy and he had a special relationship…and while they had lived miles apart most of their adult lives, there were always phone calls and letters that kept the close relationship constant.  However, it had been a few years since he had been home and he hadn't seen the decline of my grandmother’s general health.

Left to Right: Aunt Hilda, Uncle Jack, Russ (aka Bub) Gene (Dad) , & Betty (Mom) 

Left to Right: Hilda, Jack, Carmen, Gene & Betty

So, we said goodbye and started the trip back to Lewiston.  During the car ride home, Mom and I made plans on what we were going to do.  We hadn't really done anything to prepare for my move to college.  We needed to buy sheets, towels and many of the other toiletries that a girl needs.  We arrived home on Monday afternoon and decided that we would do our shopping on Wednesday.  On Wednesday morning, Mom called me upstairs at 6:30 am.  She had been listening to the police scanner and had heard a call for an ambulance and my grandparent’s address with a Code Blue.  I went down and got dressed and came back upstairs as Mom and I waited for the phone call telling us which one of my grandparents had had a heart attack.  Twenty minutes later, we knew it was my grandmother and we were on the way to the hospital.  We found my grandfather in the waiting room with a lost look on his face as he told us that they had restarted her heart.  A few minutes later, a doctor told us that she had been without oxygen for too long and he honestly didn’t know how her heart was still beating.  I was tasked with calling my father at work and my brothers to let them know what had happened.  My grandmother’s younger brother was able to see her, and Jack was on his way up.  He was due to arrive Saturday morning and before he arrived, Grandma Cappy slipped away. As I was packing my car, with what I had bought on my own, tears were running down my face.  Going to college which had been an exciting adventure a week previously was now something that I didn’t want to do.  Mom told me that I needed to get my dorm room assignment and meet my roommate.  This was something that Grandma would want me to do.   So, I went through the motions of driving up to my new dorm room, met my roommate and took my things in and then I got back in the car and headed back home.  On the following Tuesday, we buried my grandmother and then my brother and I headed up to Moscow and had to register.  As a freshman, I was registering near the last and didn’t get most of the classes I wanted and had to settle for the classes I could get. 

It wasn't until a few weeks later, when my mother was finally able to come up and visit. By that time, I was in a room on my own and my mother arrived with matching comforters for both of the beds in my room and a small black and white TV as well as whatever else she thought I needed.  Mom and I never got our shopping trip together – so she decided to take care of it on her own. 

I must admit to being a little envious of those going to college.  There is so much excitement at starting a new pathway in life.  I know that my grandmother felt that way as she started going to school on that first day 55 years before my first day.  She was the first one to graduate from college in her family and had a teaching degree in 1932 to show for her efforts.  Needless to say, I will always remember that first day – getting my dorm, carrying my things into my new room and meeting my roommate and hall mates.  However, what I will remember most is the news that morning that Grandma had slipped away from us – it was August 24^, 1985 and she was 73 years old!

An Early Military Photo of Uncle Jak!

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I haven't felt on top of the world the past week or so...so I thought I would post a picture of a favorite uncle and what I don't know about it!

Long after my mother died, I was going through an old photo album and found this picture.  I knew that it was my great uncle Jack Friddle...but I was surprised to see a photo that so obviously predated World War II.  Jack was born on 8 Oct 1909 in Mountain City, Johnson Co., TN to David Carl Friddle and Sophia Vestelle Friddle.  I think he probably graduated in about 1927 or so from Pomeroy High School.  My great grandparents homesteaded up on Grouse Flats, Wallowa Co., OR and while my grandmother and great uncle went to the small local school, my great grandmother insisted that her children have the opportunity to go to high school, so in 1924, David Carl Friddle and Sophia Dollar Friddle moved their family to Pomeroy, WA and a few years later they moved to Lewiston, ID where my grandmother graduated from high school.

So...here is what I find curious about this picture.  I know that Jack worked in a retail store after high school and I know he was a paratrooper in World War II - but when was this picture taken.  I asked his brother, Claude, who was still alive at the time about it...and he didn't really know anything.  There is a problem with finding military records from the World War I to II era because so many of the records burned up in a fire.

So, my best guess was that this photo was taken around 1930 to 1932.  I am sure it was taken before he and his wife Hilda Heitmann married in 1934 but other than that -  I can't be sure.  So, my theory is that Uncle Jak (which is the way he used sign letters and cards to me) was probably a member of the local militia and judging by his uniform most likely in the Army.  It is really too bad that I have no one left to ask.  Uncle Jack was definitely a favorite of mine...and I am sorry I don't know more!

D-Day + 70

Claude Friddle - 1924-2011

During the past few weeks, I have been taking the opportunity to watch the many D-Day documentaries that have been on TV.  Some of them are a few years old, but several have been made in the past year.  I can't help thinking how great it is that some of these stories from these veterans are being recorded.  The youngest of these veterans is either 90 or close to 90.   I think that I read that there are only about one million of these World War II veterans still alive.

While neither of my grandfathers fought in World War II because they were farmers.  Someone had to stay home and grow food.  I had three great uncles on my Dad's side of the family and two great uncles on my Mom's side of the family who also fought.  All but one of them fought in the South Pacific.  Only Claude fought in Europe...I really never heard him talk that much about World War II and his experiences.  I assume that it wasn't a topic he liked to talk about especially with his young great niece.  I heard him tell a few stories through the years and I think the thing that might have bothered him most was seeing all of his buddies flying on bombing runs to Germany...and the sad fact that so many never came back.

I have to wonder what he was thinking on the eve of D-Day 70 years ago.  I imagine he really didn't have an idea what he was going to face.  I think that this was his first major battle and there is something to be said about not knowing what he was about to face.  Claude was a 20 year old man.  He had graduated in 1942 from Lewiston High School in Lewiston, ID.  He signed up in 1943 and was worried enough about how his mother would react that he asked his father to tell her.  Claude was a member of the Tank Destroyers in the 1st Army.  I think his division later became part of the 9th Army and fought under General Patton through the Battle of the Bulge. But on that long ago day, Claude was waiting just like so many other soldiers.  His division was on the second wave at Omaha Beach  From what I have read, the biggest difference between the first and second wave was sheer numbers  By the time the second wave came along, they still hadn't put out the guns on the cliffs above Normandy

It isn't like I have heard a lot of direct information from my great uncle...and since he passed in 2011, there is no further opportunity.  I can't help it that when I am watching these documentaries about D-Day - I still wonder if I will ever see a glimpse of Uncle Claude's face in any of those films.  I doubt it.  This is a significant anniversary - I wonder how many more years we will have where we will have living veterans from D-Day. So, today I will spend some time thinking about as my mother called him - her Uncle Buddy...and marvel at what he and all those other young men faced and accomplished 70 years ago on Omaha beach on the Normandy coast!

Memorial Day Memories

Memorial Day was always a time in my family when my grandparents and parents visited the cemeteries to lay flowers down on loved ones graves....at least that was what we did on the surface.  It was actually a time when I know that I learned a lot of the family stories that I have shared through the past few years.

Now those loved ones graves include both of my Mom's parents and my Dad's parents as well as a few sets of great grandparents and also my beloved Momma.  So, I thought I would post links to three of my favorite "cemetery stories" in honor of Memorial Day weekend which is fast approaching!   If you want to know the story behind this picture...check it out!

• Ok Pop, Turn Over!
• The Gravestone
• An Epitaph to Remember

Graduation Day

On May 13, 1989, I graduated from the University of Idaho with a Bachelors of Science in History and Minor in English.  It was the culmination of four years of school and it was a special day for my family.

My college career had a rocky start, my grandmother actually died the day I was supposed to go to college and get my dorm room.  I still remember driving the short 30 miles a bit later in the day with tears running down my face.  When the funeral happened a few days later, my brother and I both had to leave and go up and take care of registration.  Back then, computers weren't that common and registration occurred on the floor of the football stadium that is called the "Kibbie Dome!"  It was a mind blowing experience, especially for a freshman who had never seen anything like it.  I was fortunate,  I had my brother to guide me through and I survived the experience.  During the next few years - I provided the same assistance to several freshmen as I never forgot the experience.

I was not the first or even the second to graduate from college in my family.  My grandmother had graduated from the Lewis Clark Normal in 1932.  When she went to school, her father butchered a hog to pay for tuition and she rode her horse to school.  Her mother and she picked lettuce for three summers to save enough money to buy a piano so she could learn music - which would help her get hired as a teacher.

There was nothing so dramatic when my brother went to school.  He had his own tribulations - but his graduation in 1986 was a triumph - and not just because of him.  My grandfather had lived on his own after my grandmother had died.  Looking back, he really shouldn't have been living on his own.  Grandpa had numerous health problems and his days were involved with the various treatments of his blood disease and diabetes.  Back in the early 1980's, Grandma Cappy and Grandpa Gwen donated a sum of money to the University of Idaho to provide a three scholarships for District #241.  This was the school district where my Grandpa had been on the school board for 25 years and my Grandma had taught school at one of the elementary schools.

Gwen Shearer & Capitola Friddle Shearer - My grandparents

 Every year, one student from each of the three high schools in the district, got a 4 year full scholarship to the University of Idaho.  It didn't matter if they were going to teach, become an engineer or lawyer - all that mattered was that they came from that district and were going to school at the University of Idaho.  It was something that gave my grandparents a great deal of satisfaction and something we as a family was very proud of.  During that graduation in 1986, the first class of these scholarship students was going to graduate.  So, my parents made arrangements to get my grandfather physically as close to the Kibbie Dome where the graduation was being held and made arrangements for someone to transport him up to the doors.  Mom had some food with her in case his blood sugar dropped (which it did) and they made it so a fragile old man could see his first grandson graduate from college but also see the first of those scholarship students graduate.  He said he was doing it for both he and grandma - and it wasn't an easy thing for him to do physically - but he did it anyway.  Eight months later, he passed away.

My brother, Russell with my Grandpa Gwen Shearer, and mother Betty Johnson

In many ways, I was like those scholarship students.  My grandparents provided the money for me, my siblings and cousins to go to college without the worry of college loans.  I saw a lot of friends who had a lot more of a struggle.  While it was much cheaper back then, I realized that I had been very fortunate.

I don't enjoy being the center of attention - and I was incredibly nervous.  I was sure that I would trip and fall in front of the entire crowd...so I didn't sleep that much.  Neither did my one year old niece - she was teething and I remember her being just a bit too much like me in terms of being reluctant to go to sleep.

My niece going up the stairs on the morning of my graduation.  You couldn't keep her down!

 When I walked into the Kibbie Dome during graduation procession, I looked up in the crowd trying to see my family and it would have been a hopeless cause, except my sister-in-law was holding up my 5 1/2 old nephew so I could see my family.  Since I was graduating in the centennial year of the university, I got a medal signifying the event.  My brother said that it wasn't quite fair - he didn't get a metal.  My mother told him that she didn't have a professor walk up and tell her that he was a pleasure to have in class like I did!  (One of my Professors came over and gave me a hug and told my mother that I was one of her favorite students and that she loved having me in class - it is always great to hear nice things from people you respect) Looking back, I find it interesting that two of my clearest memories of that day are connected with my niece and nephew.  That niece also went on to graduate from the University of Idaho...and next year, I will be able to go and see her brother graduate from the University of Idaho as well.

After the ceremony - at home with the beautiful cake that my sister-in-law made.

So, today I think about 25 years ago and going up to get my diploma and knowing that I had my family there to see it happen.  I also think of how lucky I was to have grandparents who gave me, my siblings and cousins the opportunity for education.  Since they set up that scholarship - about 90 students have graduated.  That is quite a legacy for them to leave behind.

The Mill at Orofino, ID

Office at Orofino Mill

My family is a timber family.  We have been involved in the industry in one capacity or another for the last 90 years.  Primarily it was my step grandfather but my father and brother have also been involved in the industry as well as several uncles, cousins, etc.  I think that the first time that my Grandpa Gwen had a mill of some sort was probably in the early 1930’s when he had what was called a one-horse mill near Culdesac, ID.  I really don’t much more about it than just that.  I know that during the 1940’s he owned a mill up on McCormick Ridge in the present day Waha area.  His best friend trucked the lumber down (he was my natural grandfather, Richard Tannahill) and much of the lumber was sold at my grandmother’s lumber lot.  Grandpa Gwen gave up that mill in 1949 and began a mill in Orofino, ID in the Black Pine area. 

Mill at Orofino, ID

Some of my mother’s favorite child hood memories were involved with spending a few weeks in the summer up at McCormick Ridge helping Granny Shearer with the cooking for the men.  When Grandpa Gwen bought the mill in Orofino – much of his time was spent during the week working at the mill and he was successful.  My grandmother notes in her diary near the end of 1954:

“1954 has been a very fine and prosperous year for us.  At the beginning of 1954 we owed around $ 85,000 as a result of our 1954 remodeling of the mill – converting to band and all electric power. 

We have been able to pay off all indebtedness incurred as a result of this change over everything except our Mortgage at the bank on the real estate.

We set up a bookkeeping system with a fine and adequate set of books – but the office and got into around the first of April with Linda as a bookkeeper.

We incorporated July 1^st to help reduce our income tax.

We ran two shifts at the mill from July 6th until fall. “

Taken sometime during the 1950's  Orofino, ID

Grandpa Gwen spent a lot of time going back and forth between Orofino and Lewiston and it seemed that 1954 was a year that they spent modernizing the mill and making it more profitable…which has to be the primary goal for a business man.

Then on November 23, 1955…tragedy struck…my grandmother noted in her diary:

“Mill Fire we had a rude awakening at 6:00 AM when Marian called that the mill had burned down.  We got there at 8:15 – the fire department still pouring water on the remains. 

It was discovered around 5:30 just before it exploded throwing fire in every direction.

The office has been a mad house with people coming and going all day and the telephone busy.  

There’s certainly a lot of sad men.

The green chain and the new fuel bin which was to have gone into operation on Monday are left intact."

This happened the day before Thanksgiving and Grandma notes on 25 Nov 1955 - the day after Thanksgiving:

We went up today – Mom the girls and I to let them see the mill or what remains of it…We will get about $ 88,000 out of the Insurance.  Then the next day:  Father is downtown checking on possibilities of future mill site to build again.  Everyone asks us what our plans to build are…Gwen doesn't know himself as yet.

What followed over the next few years were probably the hardest points in my grandparent’s lives.  With the loss of the mill and the building of the new one in Elk City, ID – money was tight.  My grandmother went back to school to get re-certified as a teacher and worked immediately as a substitute teacher.  They faced bankruptcy and spent the next 10 years rebuilding their business and life.  It is a tribute to their hard work and smart business acumen that the new mill that they built in Elk City was a modern and technologically advanced mill for the time.  I know that Grandpa Gwen was looking into the possibilities of the mill before his Orofino mill burned down – but I have to wonder…would the outcome of been different if that mill hadn't burned down in Orofino!

Little is left of my Grandpa's mill at Orofino - Dad and I drove by the site this
past weekend - and this is all that remains of that mill.

35 Years Ago...

Mom Friddle with my grandmother Capitola and son Claude!

You might say that my great grandmother, Sophie Dollar Friddle, is one of my favorite subjects.  Probably because I have always heard so many stories about her that made a definitely impression and also because I remember her.  I wish I could say that I remembered her well - but I remember her the way and eleven year old would...with fleeting images and memories.  I do remember well the day she died and following days afterwards.

I remember Mom telling all of us kids about Mom Friddle's death and as the youngest, I was sad - but I really didn't know what it meant or what was coming.  For my mother, I could see that this was a truly monumental event and I know from what she has told me over the years that Mom Friddle was one of the most important people in her life.  Mom grew up just a hundred or so feet from her house.  So, she was very much a part of Mom's daily life.  Even as an adult, they spent a lot of time talking and visiting on the phone.  Mom Friddle loved to call and find out what type of trouble that my brothers had gotten into that day.

On that day, 35 years ago, that we had a graveside service for Mom Friddle - everything was different to me.  It was the first time that I had saw a body and it didn't look like Mom Friddle to me.  She was still - I had never seen Mom Friddle not shaking her head constantly with her tic or with white hair.  It had been six months since I had seen her and she had been in a nursing home - and she didn't look like the grandmother I was used to.  At the graveside, everyone stood around solemnly and somehow I ended up near my uncle Claude.  When service started I took his hand...or maybe he took mine.  This was very unfamiliar to me and I was a bit nervous.  As the service progressed, Claude held my hand tighter and I looked up at him.  I saw tears creeping down his face and I think that I realized that Mom Friddle was much more than the old Grandma that I knew who told great stories - she was a beloved mother who left behind three children who despite the fact they were all over 50 were going to miss their mother dearly.

I know so much more about my great grandmother now than I did back then.  I've learned things from all of my family that knew her and have learned a few things on my own.  So, as I go down to the cemetery today and lay flowers at her stone - I will think of that day so long ago...but now I wish I had been a bit older and had talked to her more about her life.  She probably would have told me a few tall tales, but it would have been fun to hear them from her!

Here are a few blogs that I have written about Mom Friddle that you may enjoy!

Three Great Dames - Happy Thanksgiving

119 Years Ago…today!

Place to Place

Coffee & Hot Toddies

A Lifetime of Changes

Taken about 1920 - Left to right - Capitola, David Carl Friddle, Jack and Sophie Dollar Friddle

Learning to Shoot...

After my Uncle Jack's widow, Hilda Heitmann Friddle died on 24 Jun 1989, Mom and I got a pleasant surprise.  Her brother dropped by some of Jack's photo albums and a few other bits and pieces.  Among these bits and pieces was a photo album with some really wonderful pictures.  I think my favorite was the one where Pop Friddle was holding on to the toddler (Uncle Jack) while Mom Friddle was learning to shoot.

I have no idea as to the specific location other than it was up on Grouse Flats above Troy, Oregon.  I have no other specific date except the guess that it must have been taken during the late summer, as Mom Friddle seems to be showing her pregnancy somewhat and she had my Grandma Capitola in December.  So this was photo was probably taken around August 1911 and Jack would have been almost two years old, and Mom Friddle (Sophia Dollar Friddle) would have been 17 years old and Pop Friddle (David Carl Friddle) would have been about 22 years old.  I think it is a wonderful picture of a pioneer family...which is what they were.

When Mom Friddle came out west with her young son who was just over a year old in 1910, it must have been quite a culture shock.  She had grown up in a household as the adored and coddled granddaughter.  As my Grandma Cappy described it..."she had grown up like Topsy!"  To paraphrase, she didn't know how to cook much, make soap, care for a house...and here she was a young bride and mother at 16 years old when she came out west in November 1910.  I imagine that after the trip from Troy, OR on a wagon up to her new home, she must have wanted to throw herself on the bed and cry her eyes out.  She had left a comfortable home where she had been taken care and  was in a simple small shack with her young son and her husband gone for weeks at a time working.  That first winter had to have been very hard.  Perhaps Pop Friddle was with her...I don't really know - but I know that I heard stories of hearing the screams of cougars nearby and various other types of wild animals.  She couldn't have felt too protected in that small shack.  By the time the summer had rolled around, there was not only the wildlife making loud and terrifying sounds, but also rattlesnakes that were plentiful in her new home.  So, with that knowledge - this photo becomes more significant.  My great grandmother was preparing be able to protect her children and herself while her husband was away...and if it took using a gun nearly as big as she was...then so be it.  So she not only had to learn to shoot...she had to practice so she could hit whatever she was shooting at!  Knowing what I do about my great grandmother - I suspect that she probably became quite good at it.  

Three Great Dames - Happy Thanksgiving

When I was a child, I don't really have a memory of a bad Thanksgiving.  I know that the day had to be very stressful for my mother...but it was a good kind of stress.  She had four little kids running around and eventually we learned to not bother her.  Usually my Mom's parents would join us and my grandmother would make the pies and a salad.  For a few years, we had three of the grandest old ladies for the dinner.

Mom Friddle (Sophie Dollar Friddle), Aunty Jones (Glenthora Stranahan Jones) and Granny (Nettie Moody Shearer) used to sit on the couch and visit.  I can remember sitting on the floor listening to them tell stories.  One that sticks out in my mind was about them taking the stagecoach.  Mom Friddle didn't move to the area until a bit later, but Aunty Jones and Granny lived in the region since the 1890's.  There first stop out of Lewiston was the 21 Ranch which is about 22 miles south of town, then they would stay the next night at Winchester and by the third night they would make it to Grangeville.  This is a trip that takes about an hour now...but back then it was three days.

These three ladies helped inspire my love of history and they have been topics for me for my blog.  Today on Thanksgiving - I would like to remember these three grand dames of my childhood.

Granny was born in 1890 in Missouri and was actually my step great grandmother.  She was sure a special lady and when I see little Christmas trees, I will always think of her.

My Beloved Granny

My sister, Gwenda and Aunty Jones.

Aunty Jones was my mother's godmother...at least that was what she claimed.  She had a long history here in the Lewiston - Clark Valley and lived to be probably the oldest person that I knew when she died at 99 years old.  Every years she would give each of us kids a $5 and a bag of oranges.  She was a fascinating woman to talk to...I only wish I would have been a little older so I could have asked her more questions and could remember the answers.

Uncle Henry & Aunty Jones

I have probable told more stories and have learned more about Mom Friddle than any other person from my childhood.  She was my mother's hero and everyone in the family has a great story about her.  She is another person that I wish I could have asked more questions.  There is no question that she has had an impact on my life and I can't help thinking that I wish I was more like her.  The word "can't" wasn't in her vocabulary.

119 Years Ago...today!

Veteran's Day - Celebrating my Military Relatives

Ora Silas Gage - Military 1912

Don Gage - Korea

John Bernard Gage - WW II

Orland  Gage - WWII 

Claude and Jack Friddle - WW II

Byron Gage & Orland Gage - Korea

Claude Dollar - WW I

George William Shawver - WW I

I have been privileged to know many of the veterans who have served during war and peace within my family.  Many of them have passed, but they have all left an enormous imprint on my life.  For the most part, I didn't hear about their service from themselves...but rather their stories were communicated to me by others.

There are a few cousins in my generation that have served in Iraq as well as peacetime during the 1980's.  I have an aunt and cousin who served in the National Guard as well as another who served during the Vietnam war.  I know of three of my great uncles who served during Korea and six who served during World War II. There are even a few who served during World War I and even a few relatives who were active during the Spanish American War.  I don't think that there has been a war that a relative has not served in through this nation's history from its time as a collection of colonies through the Revolutionary War, Mexican American War or the Civil War.  Their service is part of the very fabric of this country.

I have spent some time writing about some of these veterans within my family...and here are some of their stories:

Goodbye Aunt Mary Kay - My Dad's younger sister who served in the National Guard

A Tinkerer at Heart - This is about my Great Uncle - John Bernard Gage and Our Gage Veterans - Highlighting Orland & Bernard and about Orland and Bernard in WW II

Claude & Jack - WW II Veterans - My mother's uncles and two of my favorite people

Civil War Stories - My four Civil War ancestors - John Lyons Tannahill, Moses T Friddles, Jasper L Bailey and Alexander Monroe Dollar - Interesting to note that the three from the south - only one of them fought for the Confederacy - the other two fought for the Union.

My Friddle Brick Wall - My great great grandfather who served with the 14th TN Calvary for the Union in the Civil War.

Levi Pennington Family & the Civil War - Story of the sons of Levi Pennington and the Civil War - Levi was my 4th Great Grandfather

On that Fateful Day - Asa Wheelock was in the militia that there on the fateful day of the Battle of Lexington and Concord during the start of the Revolutionary War

Gallup Represents More than Just a Poll  - A list of the Gallups who fought during some of the earliest battles during colonization through the Revolutionary War

An Epitaph to Remember - This is about General Adamson Tannahill who served as George Washington's secretary during the Revolutionary War

John Macomber & Mary Brownell Davol - John Macomber served on the Massachusetts line during the Revolutionary War.

Revolutionary War Veterans - Some of the Revolutionary War Veterans that I am directly descended from.