Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Tombstone Tuesday Mary Lambert Fitch

When I was wandering through the St Mary's Cemetery in San Antonio, TX, this stone caught my eye.  My early family starts with Rev. James Fitch in Connecticut. 
I have found she was with her grandmother Mary Dresch on the 1900 census, her dad was from Pennsylvania and mom from Texas. 
Found her on the death index but no information other than death date and place which I already have.  Wonder who she was, what sadness was in her life, did she have TB as many did in the 1920's?  Another mystery.  Did find a private tree that has her listed sent them a message.  Now wait and see.  : (

Sunday, August 29, 2010

Sentimental Sunday The Hero and The Train Transformer.

The Hero was always experimenting, especially in his teen years.  He was also quite mischievous.  He had a twin brother. According to him, they were usually fighting 75% of the time.  When I finish this story, you will understand some of it.  ; )
The motivation behind this story was simply to see if he could do it.
The Hero carefully searched the garage for his old electric train set.  They had not used it for years, so his mom had stored it in the garage.  He had just finished reading in his Everyday Science book uses of transformers.  His thoughts were "Can I do it?  Can I get away with it?"
Methodically, he set up a table near the door of the garage, placed the transformer on it,  looked for and found some old electric wire.  He took the wire, and hooked it to the transformer, then attached the other end of the wire to the door handle with enough wire to allow the door to open and close.  Next step, he looked for and found some leather gloves. Plugging in the transformer, he was ready.  He stuffed the gloves in his pocket after closing the door carefully, and went off to find Dick.  He was sure that Dick would want to see what he had invented.
A bit later, they arrived at the garage.  The Hero had his gloves on and quickly opened and closed the door behind him.  Then Hero sneaked around to see what would happen. 
Dick was perturbed that the door had been closed in his face and grabbed the handle to open it.  Well....after the initial shock and dance, Dick let go of the door handle.  The sight of his brother dancing and yelping sent the Hero into a fit of laughter.  (The transformer was not strong enough to harm anyone, just sting them...this according to the Hero's dad.)  When Dick saw what had happened, oh my, the chase was on; and because the Hero was laughing so hard...Dick won. I can only imagine the aftermath. can't you?  ; )
Girls, you might want to wait a few years before sharing this with you sons.

Friday, August 27, 2010

Sharing a Slice of Life 'Snakes'

As I have reflected on this prompt from TexasBlu, I have come up with the probable reason for my awful aversion to snakes. 
I began reflecting when we did the prompt on camping.  As early as I can remember, we would go camping and fishing every summer.  The men had a competition on who could catch the most and who caught the biggest.  When we were old enough to hold a cane pole, we were taught how to fish.  I think it was to teach patience.  Maybe that is why none of my children have patience.  LOL    The point is, I had to hand worms as early as 3.  I hated their feel and the way they would wind around your fingers.  Maybe that is why I get willy feelings when Red Beard hands the grandchildren snakes... 
Then when I was 5 and fishing with my mom for fresh fish dinner, there was this BIG cotton mouth snake that swam right for us (cotton mouths are aggressive snakes that aren't just protecting themselves).  My mom screamed, threw down the pole and grabbed me and ran.  Pretty impressive on a young girl.
I know we should be kind to all living creatures...and I am (I don't hunt down snakes) unless they come into my territory then I am protecting my family. 
Case in point.  When the snakes come in my home, they are in trouble.  I have shot a snake that had eaten one of the pair of doves we had.  I have supplied tools for killings snakes that were attacking my men in the house.  The Hero a gun.  The son, now that is a story, a two by four board.
Rikki-Tikki-Tavi link
My oldest son in his mid teens and sisters came in after we had gone to bed.  As they came in by the wood stove, he saw two snakes on the floor.  He grabbed the cinder shovel from the fire tools and swatted at them yelling for help (don't know where the girls went, maybe one will make a comment) .  I ran down the stairs to a scene from Rikki-Tikki-Tavi only it was my son and not a mongoose.  No gun upstairs, so I looked for a weapon, the only one I could find was a two by four 4' long they had for repairs.  I ran back down where he was yelling, 'One is getting away!'  I threw him the board and he killed both.  He was our hero for such a brave deed.  It was apparently a pair of copperheads looking for a place to have their eggs, and had come up the chimney cleaning hole.  Still gives me the willies just thinking about it. 
All things considered don't you think I have a right to be very wary of snakes!  Well, I do. ; )

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Tombstone Tuesday Evergreen Cemetery

Click here to go to Evergreen Cemetery

I have found a new distant cousin, Howard.  He has shared about his family and I have learned about a Gray and Blue Civil War Retirement community.
This is from his letter.

These are my 2nd great-grandparents, Leon Selwyn Shaver and Ella Cecilia Brigham.  They left Michigan to go to the Swan Colony in Fitzgerald, Georgia in 1895.  It was a retirement community planned for the veterans of the Civil War.  If you look up the history of Fitzgerald, Georgia, it's really a very inspirational story.  There were veterans from the North as well as the South who all came together and treated each other with mutual respect, blue and gray marched together, shoulder to shoulder, in the first parade they had in late 1895, if I remember right.  Ella, however, died there in 1896 from Malaria which she had contracted either before or sometime during their trip.  Her husband and children moved back to Michigan after her death and he married her sister Alice. 

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Sentimental Sunday The Hero and The Angel With a Gas Can

This is a view of The Hero and I as we would drive.  My daughter caught this because it was a typical view in their childhood.
We often took trips together to business functions, to see family, to be together.  I guess that was the most important function of all our trips was the time we got to spend with each other.  
The events around this trip served to give the Hero a great story, actually two stories, but I will just relate one this time.

We were on our way home from a trip to Utah and were reading scriptures, in particular, Kings, Chronicles and Samuel. We had made it to the straight of way on I80 in Wyoming (a side note...Interstate 80 (I-80) is the second-longest Interstate Highway in the United States, and the gas stations are well spaced ). The Hero was driving and I was reading.  He would make a comment, ask a question, and we would discuss what was being read.  He was very auditory.  I wasn't.  That is why I would read.  We started with Samuel, then would see a foot note and jump to the foot note and back again.  That is how Chronicles and Kings worked their way in.  It was fascinating to us and back and forth I would go.  We became so engrossed in our subject that time flew. 
Suddenly, the Hero made a gasp!  It startled me into this world and I said 'what's wrong?'
"Look at the map, see how far we are from a town.  Ah, we are on empty."  What! had we really been that caught up in our reading that we had failed to notice the gas gauge and had not stopped for gas?...Apparently so.  I grabbed the map and said 'Where are we?' His answer, "I asked you."  'Guessing from our last stop and the time, we should be approaching Laramie.  About 15 miles, I would say.' 
At that moment, we saw a sign the said the next exit was for Laramie.  We decided to take it because it looked closer on the map to town.  (Have any of you driven the back roads of Wyoming?  Nothing for miles.)  We made it two miles, when chug, chug, choke, we came to a halt on the side of the road,  He got out and raised our hood...no, we did not have a gas can, that would have taken planning...in the hopes someone would come by to help.  I hooted and said,'you need to walk to find someone.  That looks like a house', I motioned across the way to a structure in the distance.  He was silent, just considering our situation, hot, no shade, no water, and no phone, hmmm. Time for a prayer.  Just after he finished the prayer,  a car appeared down the road.  The car pulled up beside us; a lady and three children.  She was gestured with her cigarette in her hand at the pickup and ask what was wrong.  The hero sheepishly told her what had happened.  She said, she would run to her house and get some gas for us and be right back.  I looked at the map as she drove off saying, it will be a while.  No more than 15 minutes had passed when she was back.  We put the gas in the tank, then offered to pay her.  She wouldn't accept payment for the gas, just told us where the nearest station was and took off to take the kids to a lake...Lake? 
We quickly headed to town, noting that there were not any roads, or houses until we got to the edge of town 15 miles away, and it took us about 25 min. to make the trip.  We couldn't figure out where the lady or "Our Angel" had come from.  The Hero decided she an angel who was an answer to his prayer that we would receive help. 
The moral, my grandchildren, is that when you are doing a thing that is right, you will receive blessings for it.  Yes, even and unlikely angel bearing a gas can.

Irish Stories 21st edition of the Carnival of Irish Heritage and Culture: Aine Queen of the Fairies

I have spent much time trying to figure out what I would use as my Irish story.  The main claim I personal have to Ireland is my first born daughter's name, Aine.  I made a post about naming her before, click here to read about that.

The Irish have many stories/legends about Aine, Queen of the Fairies.  She was a Celtic goddess that they moved to fairy status when Ireland became Christian. 
She lives in a invisible world to our eyes, although a few have seen her.

According to en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Áine:  Áine (Irish pronunciation: [ˈaːnʲə]) is an Irish goddess of love, summer, wealth and sovereignty and Áine is strongly associated with County Limerick.
An appealing legend comes from stories of the the Sidhe.
Aine was a mortal woman who was taken but the fairies and became was of the clan O'Corra. And, my favorite, because she does not slay the mortal who was overcome by her beauty is: 
"The Earl of Desmond once saw Aine combing her hair on the bank of a river. He fell in love with her and seizing her cloak made her his wife. The offspring of this union was Aine's enchanted son Geroid Iarla, who lives under the lake awaiting his return to the world of men. Once every seven years he emerges from the water as a phantom riding on a white horse."
I see her as a beautiful woman, with striking eyes, flowing hair, and a bewitching smile. 

My daughter could have been Aine.  ; )

I will look for our family connection as I search Limerick for my Dyer family. 

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Sentimental Sunday The Hero and Scuba Diving Adventures

Last week we learned the Hero kept secrets from his mom and it was probably a good thing.
As I said, he loved scuba diving.  Any chance he and his friends got to go scuba diving, even if it was in the Houston Ship Channel, they would go.  I will tell this in his voice.
"We got the chance to go out scuba diving on Saturday morning.  We didn't have much time, so we went to the Houston Ship Channel.  You know the water there was muddy and not very nice, but it was moving water.  When we were close to the Galveston Bay (they seemed to like that area), Mike threw down the anchor for our dinghy.  I jumped in the water ready to go as I was already in my gear.  It was pleasant swimming and I liked try to see what was around me in the water.  All of a sudden, I felt something hit my leg.  I looked but couldn't see anything.  I swam further, and felt something hit my leg again.  Now I was getting concerned, but still didn't see anything.  I continued my swim when all of a sudden, a jelly fish was attached to my goggles.!  I have to tell you, I came up out of the water, and literally walked, no, ran on water to the shore. "
Now can't you see that.  I would have been rolling in laughter had I been there.  You would have to have known the Hero back then...He was "cool"  and did "cool" things.  LOL  this had to have been hilarious to have seen.

Friday, August 13, 2010

Follow Friday Inspirations

Today as I saw Follow Friday tweets come up on twitter, I began to contemplate what would I blog on that subject.  My blogging is more than just genealogy.  It is my family stories.  I have along the way of my blog evolving, developed, I believe, some blogger friends.  These ladies have been uplifting and encouraging to a blogger that has never been a writer.  I just kind of lay things out there. They are quite knowledgeable in genealogy, where as I have been a jump in and get wet type of researcher from years ago.  Thus, I have learned along the way about many different facets of genealogy from them. 
There have been others, and I do not mean to slight anyone, but these three have been friends to me for sometime and I want to say 'ThankYou'  to them.
Linda at Flipside,
Carol at Reflections from the Fence and
Barbara at Life from the Roots

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Treasure Chest Thursday " Rambo of the American Revolution."

I have blogged reference to a couple of times about my ancestor Captain Lemuel Roberts b. 1751 in Canaan, Connecticut died about 1813 in Vermont.  I have found his children's birth records on FamilySearch records, and a cousin had traveled to Ira, Vermont and got his marriage record to Sarah Collins.
He is my treasure chest.  At the suggestion of one of his friends, he was encouraged to write about his Revolutionary War experience.  (He apparently had been complaining that he was never reimbursed for his service.)  The world now finds him to be a treasure of information about the world at that time.(Me too) Here are some sites that cite or hold his book. I am linking a site to each place.
World Cat.
Dr. Paul Loatman, Stillwater, CT City Historian says"The book is fascinating on a number of accounts: it gives us a rare glimpse of life among the lowly in 18th century America; and, it may be the only first-hand source we have from that era which recounts life in the local area."

Memoirs of Captain Lemuel Roberts containing adventures in youth, vicissitudes experienced as a continental soldier, his sufferings as a prisoner, and escapes from captivity. Bennington, Vermont, 1809. First edition of an exceptionally rare account of wilderness hardships and captivity among the Indians. Most of the events described took place in 1776. 
(This book is available at many University libraries, including Texas A&M University, in the Revolutionary War reference area.)
American Centuries: History and Art from New England I love this site as an example of how they dressed. It is interactive. (Okay I am a child at heart.)
My gratitude is not only that he chose to serve, but that he did take the time to write it down.  I know much about him as a person.  
Image from Benjamin Butterworth's The Growth of Industrial Ar 

Thanks for stopping by.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Tombstone Tuesday Children's Grave

I was going through my mother's pictures and found this.  These are the children of George Washington Roberts and Katherine Roberts.  There had been no death dates for these children, and my mother when she took the picture did not know who they belonged to.  I have proved them on Census records and now I have their death dates.  Sometimes random acts are helpful.

Monday, August 9, 2010

Sharing a Slice of Life 'Fires'

Texasblu gave us the prompt fires.  As she says, there are many fire stories in my life, some which I will share this winter to warm you while it is snowing outside. 
The story which goes with this time of the year is when I was 5 years old.  We were renting a house in the country, while my mom applied for college and my dad was trying to get back to productive work after loosing his leg, a story I told about here.  There wasn't trash pick up in those days, but we had a 50 gallon metal can my dad had fashioned into an incinerator. (I see your minds; they are starting to put two and two together.) I need to further advise you of where our house was.  Pawnee is built in the Sandstone Hills Region of Oklahoma.  Our house was near the top of a hill.
With this background, I will continue.
This particular day was probably, according to my mom, not the best day for burning trash.  It was windy and dry.  She had started the fire, then went back inside for more paper to burn.  She was easily distracted and had not put the wire lid back on. When she came back out, the wind had picked up a piece of trash from the burning trash and had sent it into the field.  Everything was so dry that the fire was already spreading down towards our neighbor wildly.  My mother at first beat the fire out around the butane tank.  When she had that safe, she looked around and saw me wide eyed and as usual bare foot behind her.  She bent down and told me to stay near the house.  She could not take me because I didn't have on shoes.  She was going to run down to the neighbor's house, (which was not close) and use their phone to call the fire department.  I nodded and watched her take off at a run down the road.  I was scared and just looked at the fire spreading.  Then I had a sudden flash in my mind what I needed to do.  I took off running to the barn yard where everything was fenced in.  I proceeded to let the rabbits, cow, chickens, and anything that was caged up loose so they could escape if the fire got to the barn area.  Then I went down by the mail box to wait for my mom to come back. 
I was crying and I remember one of my dad's friends a black man, stopping by to talk with me and comfort me telling me that help was on the way to put the fire out.  I don't remember my mom coming back, but I have always remembered the kind hearted friend who stopped to comfort a little girl. 
Men from all over the area came to help put out the fire.  I can remember their faces which were black from the soot of fighting the fire.  They gathered off an on at our the house and I took them cold water to drink in my little red wagon.
The fire never came back towards the barn, but my dad told me he was glad I thought of turning the animals out for safety.  My mom always told me as she was half way to the neighbors. she realize she had left me with the fire and a butane tank in between. She could only push herself to run faster.  In the end, we were all thankful that only woods and fields were burnt, no houses or people.
The experience has always stayed with me.  To this day, I am still leery of burning bush or anything out in the fields. Smokey the Bear was my friend and I always followed his instructions.  Children today would do well to know him...
And with that, I wish you a "good day"!

Saturday, August 7, 2010

Sentimental Sunday The Hero and The Scuba Spear Gun

It is August and the summer is nearly over so I need to tell a summer time fun story.  The Hero loved scuba diving.  We never could afford it after we married so I know that was a disappointment to him.  He had several stories, but he never told his mother until he was in his fifties about some of his escapades.  : O...

As a exercise to keep their scuba skills up, the Hero and some of his high school buddies decided to go diving in the ship channel of Houston.   He  readily admitted that the small dinghy and the ship channel were not the safest, but they were their outlet when they wanted to try out something.  Of course it was a different era too.  It was in the mid 1960's. 

They rode in their small boat out near the Galveston Bay, but still in the channel.  Pulling to the side they got out and began donning their gear.
Two were in the boat getting the spear guns ready. 
The Hero went out into the water to get his goggles ready, and his brother was on the shore doing something.  We will pause here for a scuba safety warning. 

The hero was bent over with his face in the water when all of a sudden something was different.  He felt for his goggles and "They were gone!"  He looked back at the boat in bewilderment only to see the wide eyed fearful faces of his friends.  They began to yell, "Are you okay?"  He said, "What happened?"  "Well, Bobby was setting his gun when it when off and the spear went clean through your goggles."  (Here, I would interject that he was probably a bit weak in the knees at this time realizing the close call, but he never admitted it.) The Hero said he thought Bobby (fictitious name) was going to faint he was so white.  All was well, no one was hurt, but they didn't feel so perky any longer.
At that point, the day was done, and they packed up and went over to the Prince's Hamburgers  to console themselves.  Of course, that was the best hamburger place in Houston at the time. 


That was a story he never told his mom. (surprise.)

Sometimes moms don't want to know.  ;)

Surname Saturday Roberts

I have had a couple of family names that confused me at first glance.  The first of such was my great grandmother Katherine Roberts Humphries Roberts.  The family thought that she was a Humphries at first, but after research, it was revealed that she had married a Humphries when she was young, did not have any children, and after his death, married my great grandfather George Washington Roberts.  Her maiden name was Roberts.  This gave way to speculation, were they related?

The census revealed that George was a veteran of the Union in the Civil war and had settled in Kansas with his land bounty from his service.  He was born in Jackson Co., Michigan, a descendant of Capt. Lemuel Roberts of Connecticut/Vermont who wrote his Revolutionary War Memoirs. (Michigan people I have decided I may need some help with Jackson County I am running into challenges with probate records)

Katherine on the other hand was born in Lawrence Co. Kentucky, her Roberts go back to the Roberts who came in the early 1700's to Virginia. 

Connecticut, Virginia...nope doesn't look like a cross.
Below is my grandmother's ancestry line back 5 generations.

Click on the picture to view it larger.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Wordless Wednesday Phillips 66 Cowboy

This is as best I can get. It give the Montgomery County Chamber of Commerce participants names at the end.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

COG August Scrapbooking Your Family History Oklahoma Land Lottery Love

I saw Linda's post at Flipside and decided I would try my hand at Scrapbooking some of my family pictures.  I wasn't aware I was going to discover new information about my grandparents.  I always knew they were married in Oklahoma Territory.  I had heard that my grandmother's father Levi Gildon in the upper left hand corner had participated in the Oklahoma Land Lottery.  I have not been able to get hold of the records to confirm that he did win a piece of land.  My findings included that up until at least June of 1901 Levi and his family lived in Freestone County, Texas.  I thought they had come earlier.  The land lottery was in Aug 6 1901 in Kiowa Lands of Oklahoma Territory.  Benedict Langley in the lower right hand corner already lived in Cloud Chief, Washita Count, Oklahoma in the 1900 census.  My grandparents were married on September 9, 1901 at her parents house in Washita County.  It appears that Levi came up to Oklahoma from Texas for the Land Lottery and his daughter fell in love and married an older man, my grandfather, he was 7 years older.  She was only 16 when they married. 
Thank you, Jasia over at Creative Gene for the challenge, I would not have caught this if I had not been trying to be correct in my presentation.
Whether I made the carnival or not it has been worth it!  Awesome night!

Sunday, August 1, 2010

Sentimental Sunday The Hero and The Floor People

This is a PG rated post.  LOL.
The Hero was a man of unlimited imagination.  He could come up with some great story lines.  While he was sick, he had to spend a great deal of time in the restroom at work.  One day he came home very excited!  I waited and the story line came.  He had been sitting looking at the floor in the bathroom with he saw a face, then he saw another and another, and a whole story came to him around these faces. He even took pictures of the floor people to work the story around.   My daughter spent a long time with him and him telling her his plot, so I won't spell out the details of the possible storyline, but I can tell you a wee bit about it.
He, with a smile, told me the floor people were at war with the wall people.  They were real people who lived in another dimension.  The floor people worshiped the moon...they first saw it when the young son bent over to take his bath.  The hero just died laughing at that; he thought it was so funny.  Then he decided it was too risky, so he would have to come at it from another angle.
I tell you sometimes I would swear he was still 13.  ; ) Ya all have a good evening and watch it when you go to the restroom you never know.....

This is his picture of the floor people ruler.