My Grandfather's Pictures

My mother's father, Oliver Richard Tannahill, died when my mother was barely six.  As a a young child, I knew very little about him.  As I grew older, I learned that he was a marvelous hunter and outdoorsman.  My mother told stories of sitting at the dinner table and watching him slurp spaghetti into his mouth - mostly to make my mother giggle.  She must have been pouting because she had gotten in trouble with her mother.  I learned that he was extremely hard worker who didn't waste a lot of time with sleep.  Mom used to tell stories of him on his tractor and having all ages of kids crawling over him and the tractor.  What I have gotten from all of these stories is that he was a much beloved husband and father...but also uncle, brother and friend.

When my grandmother decided to give her two daughters the choice between the animal heads - I think it was a mountain goat and mountain sheep (my uncle tells me that they were both mountain goats and were hunted up on the Selway River) and the two large photos of Richard - my mother chose the two photos.

The above two photos hang in oval frames on our wall and have since I was a little girl.  The one on the left was taken after Richard had caught a record Mackinaw trout up at Fish Lake on the Buffalo Hump. (Near present day Elk City, ID)  As it was taken in 1940, Richard would have been about 29 years of old.  I found the newspaper article from the Lewiston Morning Tribune that recorded the record fish.  The photo below must have been taken in the early to mid 1930's.  Richard's hunting prowess was well known and discussed.  Evidently he was a marvelous athlete who had remarkable stamina.  My mother said that he used to run from Waha to Lewiston, so he could go to school...that is well over 25 miles one way.  It was said that he could run a deer down.  He would keep tracking it until it got tired and laid down.  Deer have marvelous speed but they can't keep it up. He looks like such a young man compared to the other photos and there is a definite macho image to me...sitting there with his trusty dog, the lynx he just hunted and his gun.

The above photo was taken by Richard's brother, George.  It was probably taken about 1945.  There aren't a lot of photos that were with Richard and his daughters Joan and my mother Betty.  After he was killed in an hunting accident  (Daddy's Gone)  Mom's Uncle George had this photo duplicated and gave my mother and sister a copy of this picture in a frame.  I can remember this picture sitting in a place of honor on my mother's dresser throughout my childhood.  I still have it, in its original frame sitting on the piano with many other treasured family pictures.

I've since seen a lot more pictures of my grandfather gathered from many family members as well as old photo albums.  However, these three photos or the ones that have left an indelible impression on my mind.

Old Postcards - New York

My great grandfather was born and raised in Esperance, NY.  Back in 1892, when he was born there weren't the common lines of communication that we have today.  I'm fairly sure that they didn't have a telephone and that the quickest, surest way of communication was a postcard.  There was a photo album of some of these postcards that were traded between Granddad Gage and his family.  My grandmother scanned these years ago, and there are some pretty neat scenes of turn of the century Esperance, NY.

Wooden bridge near Esperance

Old Bridge - Esperance, NY

 

Presbyterian Church - Esperance, NY

Here are some other post cards from the Schoharie and Schenectady area as well!

Main Street - Schoharie, NY

Schenectady NY Court House

Post cards of the Erie Canal - near Schenectady, NY

Schenectady,NY residential area

Schoharie High School

Everette Henry Gallup

When I was growing up, I would often hear my grandmother talk about her father's aunts and uncles that she remembered from Nebraska.  One of the ones that she talked about often was one she referred to as Uncle Henry.

Everett Henry Gallup was 7th child in a family of 12 children.  He was born in Duanesburg, Schenectady Co., NY on 16 Jun 1873 to Silas Gallup and Phebe Ann Montanye.  He moved with his family on Thanksgiving Day in  1887 to Burt Co., NE.  Henry had two older brothers, Albert and Allen.  Albert was a school teacher and probably came out before his parents as did his other brother, Allen.  There were opportunities for young men that weren't available in New York.  However, Allen  went back to New York and married in 1898 and lived there his lifetime.  From what I understand, Silas Gallup had some health problems and had been encouraged by his brother and sons to come out to Nebraska because it was a dryer climate.  I don't know if this meant that he had tuberculosis or simply weak lungs - but I suspect that his health was not good.  So after moving out west in 1887, and starting a farm, his sons Henry and George probably did the bulk of the work.  By the time Silas Gallup died in 1898 of throat cancer, his sons aged 25 and 23 were already taking care of the farm.

George and Henry are listed in the 1900 census as partners and as farmers, but in 1907, George married Clara Thompson and moved to his own place.  Henry was left at the home place taking of his mother and he never married.  In 1908, his oldest sister (my great great grandmother) died and her four children came out west.  The oldest, my great grandfather, went his own way after bringing his siblings out on the train.  The younger three moved in and made the Gallup home place their home.  I don't think that circumstance lasted too long.  I have heard that the son, Peter, felt as though he was treated as a hired hand and if he was going to be treated that way, then he might as well be paid for it.  The youngest, Alice also was living with another family as a servant.  So in the 1910 census, only Everett Henry, his mother Phoebe and his niece Phoebe are in the household.  I have heard enough from relatives, that Phebe Montanye Gallup was not the easiest person to live with and many in the family felt that her granddaughter, Phebe Gage, was a remarkable person for staying to take care of her grandmother.  I have to wonder if the same might been said about Henry or (Everett Henry) which was his full name.  Henry Gallup never married and was the only one of his siblings to do so.   Phebe Montanye Gallup died on 21 Jun 1927 in Oakland, Burt Co., NE and left at the Gallup home place was Henry and his niece, Phoebe...and old bachelor and his old maid niece.

Phebe Montanye Gallup

They lived together and continued on as before with Henry working the farm and Phebe taking care of the home and all of the other things that women did during that time.  All that changed on 16 May, 1932, when Henry died in a tractor accident at the age of 58.  He wasn't the youngest of his sibling to die - two sisters had predeceased him, but he was the first of the Gallup brothers to die.  The farm was sold as well as all of the contents and while Phebe was supposed to not inherit anything by her grandmother's will, Henry's siblings made sure that she did - because along with her uncle - they had taken care of Phebe Gallup and the family farm for decades.  Unlike her uncle, Phebe did not remain unmarried and married a widower, August Peterson when she was 43 years of age.  In fact, I dimly remember meeting her before she died in 1976 at the age of 81.

I think this a picture of the Gallup home place in Nebraska

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

Cemetery Tales - Rosehill Cemetery

Dad and I took a great trip in the fall of 2012 back to see family in North Dakota, Minnesota and then down to Iowa and Nebraska.  It was on a lovely Fall day when we pulled into Rosehill Cemetery in Kirkman, Shelby Co., IA.  My great great grandparents had come up to Iowa from Tennessee and there was a special excitement to see the small community cemetery where they were buried!

My Father - Gene Johnson at his great grandparents grave

Washington Abraham Johnson was born on 25 Oct 1819 in Greensboro, Guilford Co., NC to Moses Johnson and Nancy Mayfield.  He was the second oldest of five children.  His family left North Carolina and traveled to Carter Co., TN to the small town of Hampton.  In 1855, he married Mary Ann Smith, the daughter of Jacob Cunningham Smith and Eleanor Wilson.  Mary Ann was born on 16 Apr 1830 in New Market, Jefferson Co., TN and it was in New Market where Washington and Mary married on 21 Aug 1855.  In 1862, Washington and Mary Ann fled from Tennessee to Iowa to escape the Civil War with their three young children.  They first went to Jasper Co., IA where Washington's brother, Henderson lived but were in Kirkman by 1870.  Washington Abraham and Mary Ann had eleven children, ten who survived to adulthood.  Washington Abraham Johnson lived to the grand old age of 97 years of age, dying on 14 Feb 1917 while his wife of 61 years lived to the age of 85, dying on 14 Mar 1916.

So, here we were on that lovely September day in 2012, Dad I and I pulled into the driveway of Rose Hill Cemetery.  Dad had been there before his mother and my Mom.  They got out and searched the entire cemetery to at last find Washington and Mary Ann's grave.  When they pulled out of the cemetery, they noticed a sign at the entrance that told them where everyone was buried in the cemetery.  Mom told me later that she learned a valuable lesson - always take the time to look around and see what is there.

Dad and I were able to find the cemetery stone fairly quickly without consulting the cemetery listing - but then I had a head start.  I had seen photographs of the gravestone and knew what it looked like.  Near their grave was that of their daughter, Maggie with her husband and children buried nearby (Maggie and Charles Rank).  Of all of their children, only their daughter was buried in the same cemetery.

As far as I could see, most of Iowa is relatively flat and without the wealth of trees that I was used.  It was impossible to know where Washington and Mary Ann lived exactly.  I do have a photo of their house and know that they were farmers.  The town of Kirkman now only has a population of about 64, so it is pretty tiny.  It has been around since about 1880 and was incorporated in 1892.  So, to my shock it is younger than my own hometown of Lewiston, ID.  I do know that they attended the Methodist Church and since the church I found in time was built before my ancestor's deaths...so I would guess that they probably attended the church.

I can't say that I learned anything special about my great great grandparents that day, however seeing where they lived, went to church and where they were buried gave me some sort of context.  I had seen the land where the Johnson's immigrated to in Tennessee and where Washington's father was buried.  Now, I was able to see where Washington and his wife of 61 years were buried.  I must admit that it did my heart good to add context to all of the census records and photos that I had seen of them over the years.  Something that anyone who researches their family genealogy can truly understand!

Washington & Mary Smith Johnson abt 1914

Washington Abraham Johnson abt 1855

Mary Ann Smith abt 1855

Valentine Huddleston & Catherine Chatham

When I first started reading the Gage family genealogy when I was a teenager, one of the more interesting entries was that of Valentine Huddleston and his wife Catherine Chatham.  Now my handy dandy genealogy program calculates that Valentine and his wife were my 9th great grandparents - so obviously this couple lived a long time ago.  However, there are definitely some interesting stories.

Valentine was born in 1628 in England and was  possibly the son of Valentine Huddleston and Jane Grey. There is a listing for a Valentine Huddleston who arrived in Maryland in 1663 and I believe that my Valentine might be the same fellow.  He would have been about 35 years old and if this is the same Valentine Huddleston, he made his way up near the Rhode Island and Massachusetts.

Catherine Chatham had a much more difficult journey to the colonies.  She was born about 1635 in England. As my old Gage genealogy stated it "Catherine Chatham came to Boston from England dressed in sack cloth as a sign of her belief in the Quaker religion.  She had been threatened with death, but instead was stripped to the waist and driven into the forest in the middle of winter and was expected to have died...but survived and married John Chamberlin."  I have seen this same story written down or some variation of it several times.  She seemed to be a woman of strong beliefs and will from what those few sentences spell out.  She married John Chamberlin, who was a widower with five children.  After her marriage, they had three more children and then John Chamberlin died. around 1667, so she was left with the care of eight children.  When she met Valentine Huddleston and married him on 4 Aug 1672 in Newport, RI, she came with quite a bit of baggage.  I have no idea if Valentine had ever married, but when he married Catherine Chatham, he was 43 years old.

So here is the newly married couple...Valentine at 43 years of age and his wife, Catherine who was 37...and if the data is to believed, they had at least four children:  Henry b. 1673, George b. 1677, Catherine b. 1679 and Jean b. 1681.  Catherine died sometime after 1681 although some have her death date as 1679 - which would make the birth of her last child somewhat difficult.  I'm not sure anyone really knows her exact death date.  Since this was a woman in that particular time period, I'm not sure it is a record that survives. Valentine lived a remarkably long life.  He received land from Governor Bradford of Massachusetts and moved there and spent the remainder of his life there and died on 8 Jun 1727 at the age of 98 years of age.

Catherine and Valentine's son, George married Mercy Case.  Mercy's father was James Case and her mother was Anna Chamberlin, the step daughter of Catherine Chatham.  (Anna's parents were Ann Brown and John Chamberlin.) When you think about it...it seems a rather close connection but there is no blood relation.  James Case married Anna Chamberlin about 1675, two years before George Huddleston was even born.

So, here is my ancestry from Catherine and Valentine:

Valentine Huddleston m. Catherine Chatham
George Huddleston m. Mercy Case
Isaac Huddleston m. Elinor Mortimer
Mary Jane Huddleston m. Joseph Gage
William Gage m. Ruth Macomber
Potter Gage m. Cynthia Swan
Gilbert Gage m. Pheobe Allen
Orlando Gage m. Edith Gallup
Ora Silas Gage m. Florence Christine Shawver
Helen Marian Gage m. Frank Stewart Johnson - my grandparents!

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.