Memory Lane

This past weekend, I took a trip to Wytheville, VA with my Grandma Mary Gwyn to visit with her Aunt Ossie and family.  My grandmother’s mother Addie was Ossie’s sister, but she died in childbirth. My grandmother came to know this part of her family because her paternal grandmother took special care in bringing her down to visit with them. I too, am grateful to my paternal grandmother for introducing me to these cousins I would otherwise not have personally known.  Of course, in addition to wanting to meet my distant family, I insisted that I would take some time to research. I get few opportunities to travel to a family history destination and I had to make the most of it. My first trip to Wytheville was made when I was expecting my eldest son, now 11 years old. The second trip was made with my sons, sisters, aunt and Grandma. I’ve been back several times, and each time I seek a little more.  This time was no different, and I was richly rewarded!

Ossie is 97 years old now, in a nursing home and rather frail. We stayed with her daughter Janet, who was very sweet to us, and grateful for our company after having lost the companionship of her mom and her brother Eddie who passed away in 2008. On our first day in, we visited a while at the house then spent some time with Aunt Ossie at the nursing home, and then I dropped Grandma & Janet back at the house and hightailed it to the Mary Kegley Genealogy collection at Wytheville Community College library. Mary Kegley is a descendant of Kegleys in the area, as well as a researcher and writer, having written extensively about Wytheville’s history. Visits are by appointment only, and I felt pressed for time as it the Friday before Memorial Day weekend. This was followed by a quick trip to the court house, and later that night by a visit to a local researcher I had met years ago.

I felt a little unprepared at the library, as I had to request the specific records I wanted, and I really didn’t know what I was looking for. I asked for the books listing marriage records and death records, as well as files about the Kincannons who were the last owners of my Great Great Great Grandmother Phoebe Sanders Sayles.  In each case, I looked for the surnames in our family: Johnson, Jackson, Sayles, Sanders, Howard.  Eventually, I located a file labeled “Blacks.” I wasn’t really sure what that meant. (A surname? African Americans? Something else?) but it was soon obvious – it was all African American records of various sorts. They were indexed by number with a list describing the contents at the front of the file. In it I found a record I had read about years earlier, and was thrilled to now hold in my hand. It concerned an 1880 court case of a man named Allen Smith, attempting to prove in court that he was next of kin to Edmund Smith, (his stepson, the son of his wife Mary Bell/Kincannon) who died intestate, but with an estate of some value. One of the defendants in the case was Wesley Johnson, my GGG grandfather. (He was Mary Bell’s brother.) The papers I held had been hand written, and were an edited transcription of the original court depositions of the former slaves who knew Allen, Edmund and Edmund’s mother Mary Bell. Years earlier I had transcribed the rest of the case from photocopies loaned to me by another Wytheville researcher, but my copies had not included these depositions.  Even better, they had already been transcribed (I believe by none other than Mary Kegley) so I was spared the tedium of trying to decipher the old script in the original file.

What a gold mine! Most of these people were former slaves owned by the Kincannons and by their neighbors and associates. They named their owners, as well as the people they had been hired out to, and their spouses. One even described his decision to never again marry a slave woman, because his first slave “wife” had lived 40 miles away. He continued to “court” other women, but finally married a free woman, and was approaching his 28th anniversary at the time of the deposition. Several of them were either relatives of mine, or knew them well. They spoke about their owners, their work, their living situations, their families and/or the family of Edmund Smith, and whether Edmund favored either of his purported fathers in looks. There was rather a lot of attention focused on Mary Bell Kincannon – when and with whom she was intimate. Of the three potential fathers brought up during the case: were they married (in slave marriages or otherwise), how often were they there visiting or “courting”, had they been seen in bed together? I found myself feeling a little badly for her – I am sure she would have been mortified to know she was the subject of these kinds of discussions, if she had still been living – but I would hope she could have settled it all rather easily if she had!

Throughout the testimony, there was a consistent avoidance of ANY discussion of slaveholders and their potential paternity, despite comments about how fair one slave or another was, and looks shared by (for example) the “Austin negros”. No one said that anyone had more “white” in them, but rather mentioned one slave being darker than another. I imagine that the judge and the lawyers and white former slave holders who testified may have known about slaves who looked rather fair and similar to their slave holders (even themselves or their parents) but obviously this topic was never touched upon. I noticed when I followed up on some of the names listed while searching marriage and death records that many documents would list “unknown” under father’s name, when I had a strong suspicion that the name was well known, but was just typically unspoken.

Previously, the most valuable records for me were the marriage and death records. The slave births were rarely recorded, but marriages (either those found in the Freedmen’s records that were “ratified” after slavery’s end, or those made after slavery) often recorded birthdates, birth places and parents names. Likewise, death records recorded these details, although often less reliably.  Several of my records contradict each other. (For example – my GGG Grandmother’s children’s marriage records list three different maiden names for her – which I believe had to do with the fact that as a slave she didn’t really have an official last name – so she was probably known by the various slaveholders she worked for.  I had already traced what I could for most of my direct ancestors and some close cousins, but these transcriptions provide an additional layer of information about the generation first out of slavery – about the time when the details of their lives were generally unwritten.  Most of them are not direct ancestors of mine, but they are close!

Early in my research in this area when I first visited with Ossie, I brought with me an early version of my family tree – several pages taped together that I had generated with my family tree program, using information from a list I believe was a handwritten copy of entries in a family bible along with a few census records.  I sat in the kitchen with Ossie and asked her about every name on the tree. Were they married? Who was the spouse, what were the maiden names? Who were the children? Were they married? Where did they live?  Before her health failed her, she was sharp as a tack! With the “tree” layed out in front of her, it was easy for her to give me all the names. Then I visited with Ossie’s older sister Leon Holliday around the corner and spoke with Leon and her husband Albert who told me all they knew of their family history, and then let me copy down all of the information from the many funeral programs and cards they had kept in the front of their family bible. I wrote down everything, then at home I followed up with census records for initial dates, and then marriage, military and death records to fill in the blanks and additional names. Over time I met more cousins – and continued the process.

I have learned how the African American Crockett, Kincannon, Johnson, Jackson, Chaffin, Sayles, Sanders, Howard & Woolwine families were interconnected, as well as the relationships between some of their slave holders. There are very few records of slave sales in Wythe County, but clearly these slaves moved from household to household and had relationships, friendships and marriages – some formal and others assumed, to the extent it was possible. A lot of these families were affiliated with the Red Bluff Church in Ivanhoe and have extended families still in the area.

At this point, our family tree on Ancestry.com now includes several branches that are not “connected”. The community of people who lived there made up a kind of family even when they lacked ties of blood or marriage. Even between the Black community and the descendants of former slave holders there is an aknowledged “kinship” whether or not there are known blood ties (although in some cases this was a known and accepted fact). I’ve started hoping that some day we could have a big reunion, maybe even including descendants of former slave holders. Very soon I’ll need to write a post about finally connecting with a descendant of the man who owned (and likely fathered) my GGG Grandmother, Phoebe Jane Sanders Sayles. If you are interested in reading the court case transcription, please let me know.

This post is written for the 78th edition of the Carnival of Genealogy: Pony Pictures! hosted by Jasia of Creative Gene. We were invited to share some pony pictures from our collection. I had two lovely photos I was happy to share. Thanks again Jasia for your work!

This is my father-in-law, Lou Mitchell, Jr. probably about 2 years old on a sweet little pony. I love his old fashioned outfit, and the look of this cute, compact little pony, and imagine Lou was happy sitting up there (although I know this is not always the case, from seeing many children change their minds about riding the pony once they get to the head of the pony line.) This was probably taken about 1942, and likely in Pennsylvania where he grew up, but I know little else about it, and neither does he.

The photo above was from before the days of my digital camera. But I was able to precisely date it from the hospital records.

I don’t think I had ever ridden on a pony or horse before the time this photo was taken. If I had, I had no recollection of it. My experience was of feeding them carrots at the farm market or things like that. I always approached horses with a healthy fear, from the handful of times I had been close. They are so big! And they have big teeth and can kick hard with iron shoes! But this was my friend’s old horse, and he was gentle. My sister Eden was visiting me and we had just taken a triumphant hike to the top of a trail not far from our home in Boulder, CO. My husband’s friend Tonya from work offered to let us take a ride on her horse, Prince, who was stabled nearby. Seemed like the perfect way to end the day, and look at that beautiful sky!

Unfortunately, she did not have his saddle, but that was not a big problem – he was just a gentle old horse, and it would just be a short walk around the field. We draped our old blanket from the back of our car across his back, and I sat behind Eden, while Tonya held his bridle. But if you look closely, I think you can see the evil glint in his eye…

Tonya walked us around the field, holding Prince, while we sat on his back, and I remember feeling rather giddy but with my usual horse nerves. I guess Prince smelled my fear. He decided to take off at a run – there was no way Tanya could hold on – and they he bucked and Eden and I went sailing into the air.

I landed with a thud, hitting the back of my head on a rock in the field and promptly blacked out. Lucky for me the rock was nearly flat or I doubt I would be here today. It still managed to give me a good cut and a concussion. Lucky for Eden she landed on me, and was none the worse for wear. Poor Tonya felt terrible, but it was just one of those things we all learned from the hard way. Trip took us to the hospital, and then stayed up, took care of me and woke me through the night. If I ever try to wear pigtails in my hair I worry that people will notice the scar that runs across the part down the back of my head, which is all that remains of our little adventure. That, some pictures, and a healthy fear of horses!

I was first inspired to write about our old home in May of 2007 when Jasia of CreativeGene asked for blog submissions about a family home. In general, I’d say most of our family homes were modest at best, but we once lived in a beautiful old home that also had a great story! I diligently researched so I could back up the legend with the facts. However, unable to travel to the area, and lacking funds to pay for on-site help, I hit roadblocks over and over in my research and wound up abandoning my draft. But I still want to tell you about it …so (almost two years later) here goes.

When I was just two years old I lived in a big beautiful mansion which was also known as Seven Gables in Carlisle, Pennsylvania. It was not Turner-Ingersoll Mansion, which was the inspiration for Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The House of the Seven Gables. However, my house did have seven gables and was part of the several acre estate which shares that name as well.

My mom told me that when we lived there the house was showing its age and very run down. In a college town, then as now, it’s easier to find a bunch of “kids” to rent and share a big dilapidated house. We lived there with my dad’s bandmates in Black Forest Rhodes, along with their families. The band played at Dickinson College and also played gigs in several states from Virginia to the North East. I have very hazy memories of this house, beyond the image of the darkness of the stairs, playing with the kids we lived with, I might even remember the steps to the basement (I picture these steep, creaky, basement stairs with no risers and VERY high up – but again, I was two…)

We lived there probably less than a year before we moved back to New Jersey. Some years later when I asked my mom about the house, she told me she heard it was being used as a fraternity house. It was around that time that she also told me the house was once part of the Underground Railroad.

To me it was a cool tidbit of fact about our old house. It wasn’t until I considered Jasia’s blog invitation to write about a home we lived in that I thought again about this house, and how this story needed to be investigated and shared on my blog.

My mom had been told the Underground Railroad story by the caretakers who lived in another small building on the property. She had seen in the basement a rough wall and a boarded up area, behind which was the tunnel that was supposed to have led to the caretaker cottage.

The first person to burst my bubble was George F. Nagle, editor at Afrolumens: Central Pennsylvania’s journey from slavery to freedom. This site is such a wonderful resource of history, and I am very grateful for his efforts. Mr. Nagle informed me that despite it’s name, there is absolutely NO historic documentation of an underground tunnel of any kind being used in the Underground Railroad. I honesty believed that there would be at least a few actual tunnels featured in the Underground Railroad. My immediate thought was, “Wow! Wouldn’t it be something if this house just happens to feature the ONLY use of an actual underground tunnel!”

The second problem with the Underground Railroad story was that the house we lived in wasn’t built until about 1925. The house that probably stood there from about 1835 had burned down in 1925. However, it was quite likely that the 1925 house was built upon the foundation of the older house, and perhaps I would find documentation of an active abolitionist family living there during the right time period.

Debbie, one of the staff members of the Cumberland County Historical Society emailed me this info from their folder containing the History of Seven Gables (my notes in parentheses):

The earliest known owners of Seven Gables were Richard and Thomas Penn. (The sons of William Penn, the founder of Pennsylvania. Mr. Nagle told me they were the first owners only in the sense that they owned everything west of the Susquehanna) In 1799 John and Richard Penn, (Richard’s sons) Proprietaries of Pennsylvania, sold 47 acres to Jacob Crever. No improvements to the property are mentioned in the deed book. Mr. Crever sold the land to William Moore in 1809. The record of this sale notes improvements.

Mr. Nagle wrote that I should determine who owned the property between 1830 and 1850, and whether a house stood there. It was during those years that the Underground Railroad was most active. But I soon ran into trouble. William Moore, who had purchased the land in 1809, died in 1812, unmarried and intestate, two years after his brother George had died leaving a wife and four children. There was a dispute over William’s estate when another of William’s brothers, Lawson Moore, swindled his sister -in-law and her children out of much of their part of the estate. I was fortunate in stumbling across the website of a researcher who had spent a great deal of time reading through that case. But in the end, I don’t know who came into possession of the house in 1812.

Debbie at Cumberland County Historical Society also shared:

The property passed through the hands of several owners in the first part of the nineteenth century. In 1835 there was a seventy-acre estate known as Cottage Hill. The tax records of 1855 reveal that the central twelve acres was owned separately. There was a two-story house and a barn on it.

In the early 1860’s J. W. Bosler purchased eleven central acres, which were described as a plantation. By 1867, Mr. Bosler had built a two-and-one-half story brick “villa.” The tax records indicate the presence of both a log and a frame house also on the property. The property passed through the hands of several owners in the first part of the nineteenth century. In another record I found the notation, “Cottage Hill Farm and Cottage purchased from C. Stayman by James W. Bosler.”

Of course, the Underground Railroad, it’s “Conductors” and “Stations” were closely guarded secrets. I learned on Mr. Nagel’s site, that although Pennsylvania abolished slavery in 1780, the “phase out” period through which slavery was finally ended was dragged out for many years, generally through greedy slave owners bending (or breaking) the rules that would have emancipated children of slaves, and slaves born after a certain date after 28 years of service.

Carlisle had residents who felt very passionately about the subject of slavery on both sides of the issue, and there were several violent clashes between them. Dickinson college had a good number of abolitionist supporters, despite also being the college of choice for many families with sons from the South. (Years ago I found the text of a letter warning Southern families against sending their sons to Dickinson, because they would turn to the abolitionist cause.) Carlisle was also situated on a known route to freedom. Still, it’s highly unlikely I’d ever find documentation of a station at the house. It is far more likely that I would be able to identify an owner or perhaps a few generations of a family who were known abolitionists. It’s possible that in the time between its ownership by William Moore and Christian Stayman, the owner of the property was involved with the Underground Railroad, but those names are still unknown to me.

In 1850, Christian Stayman (born about 1801) lived in Carlisle (perhaps in this same house) and was a member of the Dickinson Board of Trustees from 1850 to 1991. He did not own slaves. His sons were Joseph, Milton and Christian, born 1840. A reference to Christian Stayman (Sr.) mentioned that he and his brothers Abraham and Joseph were members of a prominent Methodist family in Cumberland County in the mid 1800s. The Methodist church was split over the issue of slavery, one of the causes of the splintering of the Free Methodist Church from the main group. I imagine that even if a man’s congregation wasn’t fully in support of the abolitionist cause, if his personal conscience dictated it, he would aid and support the cause even to the point becoming a conductor on the Underground Railroad.

Dickinson College’s House Divided says J. W. Bosler entered Dickinson college in 1854, but in his junior year he moved west, returning to Carlisle in 1866. If so, he came into possession of the property too late to have played an active role in the Underground railroad. You can read some more about him here and here.
The house is shown below as it appeared in Carlisle Old and New in 1905, still the home of the Bosler family.

The Bosler house burned down in 1925, and the next owner, Eugene Martin, built the house that we lived in about two years later. Some years after we lived there it was being used as a fraternity house, and it was finally razed probably in the late 1980’s. If there was a tunnel on the property, it must be long gone. Maybe some day I will learn that the house was indeed a Station on the Underground Railroad. Until then, I hope my efforts so far will bring that day closer.

Sources:
Carlisle Old and New, Civic Club of Carlisle, Pennsylvania, Printed by J. Horace McFarland Company. Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. Copyright, 1907 Page 150

In February of 1972, I lived with my parents and my sister and several of my Dad’s Black Forest Rhodes bandmates and their families (and our Great Dane) in a large mansion named Seven Gables in Carlisle, Pennsylvania. On the back of photos of the house, my mom had written “Cottage Hill” (more about this historic home here)

Friends from Kearny: David D. and Roy W. wrote these letters to the “Estate Dwellers” from their apartment at 473 Edinburgh, San Francisco (which I just learned is 6.8 miles from Haight Ashbury according to Google maps). I’ll just say they were clearly at Haight Ashbury in spirit. David did most of the writing. He writes about being out there, partying and contemplating his future. Apparently, my mom did the actual writing back, and I sure would love to read some of those letters! I don’t think I ever knew Dave, but I learned he struggled with drugs and alcohol for years and died too young. I only very recently relocated Roy through another friend – he’s back in California. The last time I saw him, I was about 18, and I hadn’t seen him since I was a little girl. Through the kindness of Dad’s friend Harry P., I was backstage at the Grateful Dead show in Las Vegas. I think Roy was touring with them – I walked by him and stopped in my tracks. Roy has a face you never forget! (Plus, I always thought he was really cute… somehow I have no photos of him)

When I talked with Roy recently, I asked him if he had any photos or memorabilia from “the old” days, but he told me he’d had a house fire years ago and lost all of his things. I offered to send copies of these letters to him if he wanted, for a glimpse of the past. After scanning them I had to share a little bit. Here’s a snapshot:

Feb. 1972 Dear Folks,
How are ya all. I got weird waiting for you to write back, so I decided to get a little pushy about the whole thing and write you again. Besides, as Karma would have it, I have something to say to you. First of all, to the Whites ( I guess), on Valentine’s day night, I attended a St. Valentines Massacre Party where I got all torn up on acid. At the party were a whole brood of the notorious Hog Farmers. Being as by 1 o’clock in the morning I couldn’t remember my legal name, I ended up leaving with some of these people and in the morning while having a chat with a fellow named Doug, I learned that we shared acquaintances with a rocka-rocka-group of musicians who have banded together and called themselves “Black Forest Rhodes”. He even had a button with the above name printed on it. … Anyway the whole trip was beautiful those people are the most beautiful people I have had the pleasure of meeting since I came to California. I was so spaced I barely spoke a word and probably left a very unrealistic impression as to what my personality is really like…

Of the few facts I remember about the house: it had seven bathrooms(!), one of the occupants had a pet rattlesnake, and tiny mice lived in the keyhole of his door. In the letter dated Feb 1, 1972, David listed these people who I believe lived there at the time:

• The White’s: My Dad’s bandmate Jerry and his wife and son, whose son Jason was my 1st friend.
• The Gwnyness (sic) – one of many ways our family name Gwyn was butchered by people attempting to spell it. Mom, Dad, Alison and me.
• Danny and Friend – not sure about them
• Jamie & Linda – Another of Dad’s bandmates and his girlfriend or wife
• My dad’s bandmate Tom, his wife Carole and daughter, Melissa, another of my earliest friends.
• Mike – not sure.

I’m sure everyone pitched in around the house, I imagine the women probably did the cooking, cleaning and childrearing, and the men were in the band (only a few months prior to this, the band had opened for Bruce Springsteen while touring in Virginia and some sites in New Jersey.) Mom said the place was pretty run down when they were there. As it was, although I don’t know the exact date we left, I know they didn’t last there long. Money was short, and this was just one of the earliest of many moves we made while I was a young kid. I have only the haziest of memories of the place, and for years I wished I could go back and see it. Unfortunately, the house was torn town years ago and the estate is now a nature preserve.

Two things that strike me about these letters. One: The handwriting is so nice! I can’t even imagine a 20-something year old male being able to write such lovely flowing script today. Obviously we’ve moved into the email & texting age, and I have read about the loss of the importance of penmanship as “keyboarding” skills have supplanted it. I think it’s kind of sad, but maybe I’m just showing my age. The second thing that strikes me is the relative permanence of the letters. Email whisks across the ether and is gone. Letters take time, thought and follow-through. Then the paper, the envelope, the post mark, the small damages to the paper from handling become artifacts – evidence of past connections.

I have saved most of the letters I have received since I was about 7 years old. They fit in two small plastic boxes. I am sure I would be embarrassed to read some of the letters I sent to my friends when I was a teenager. But I think I’d be glad to know they were still around.

I am writing this post to talk myself through a project I need to finish before December 12 (today is the 4th), but it takes several steps and needs a careful proofreading by my aunt. I made a book as a Christmas gift for my aunt last year. It was kind of a surprise, although I did need to gather information and photos from her family and she knew I was doing it. (She’s married to my mom’s brother) My book for her was a combination of a family history for her branch of the family and ours, and included photos of her kids, and many of our Thanksgiving and Christmas celebrations.  She loved it so much she said she wanted to hire me to make books for her family for Christmas ‘08. We started talking about it in the spring, so well prepared.  We were going to get it done well before the holidays, of course…

This week she finally came down with photos. I have to give her a lot of credit.  She knew what I could make, and she knew what she wanted to include and she was soooo thorough in preparing for it.  I have our full family tree in my computer, but had to hand update many lines in my Ancestry.com family tree to fill in important information.  Ancestry will organize all the facts, faces and info very nicely, but you have to put it in there first.

Book Contents

1. Dedication
2. 2 Page spread of Family Tree (two 5 generation pedigrees for each of her parents that meet in the middle where the 7 kids will be shown.)
3. 2 pages of Kane ancestry
4. 2 pages of Reynolds ancestry & photos
5. Family Group pages for each of her 7 siblings including wedding photos & 3 family photos
6. Christmas Page
7. Vacation Page
8. Our Faith Page
9. Brother in Laws Page
10. Random Favorite Pictures 2 pages
11. The Next Generation 1 page

My plan of attack:

1. Enter all of the names and dates given to me for ancestors, siblings & kids in ancestry tree online. (save for later addition to my Reunion tree)
2. Scan all of the photographs
3. Minor editing and color correction on photos in Photoshop
4. Duplicate and break up the photos into head shots where indicated
5. Upload all to Ancestry.com (save for later addition to Reunion)
6. Link all photos to their respective people in Ancestry.
7. Create the book using the automated feature on My Canvas
8. Delete additional pages (extra timelines, census pages, etc. – we can’t afford to include these)
9. Add extra pages & photographs as indicated.
10. Share book with my aunt online so she can proof read it – she will send me a list of changes)
11. Make the changes required
12. Read through one more time
13. Deadline for publishing (before paying for expedited orders) by Dec 11 for Delivery to her house Dec 23.

Wish me luck!

This post is written for participation in the blog carnival Cabinet of Curiosities, 10th Edition “Bring me your weird, your wonderful, your hidden items yearning to be seen!” Show and tell for grown ups, Cabinet of Curiosities is a celebration of the oddities and marvels of natural history, anthropology, archaeology and historic interest that reside in our personal collections. Tell us the stories behind the historical or religious relics, artifacts, mementos, talismans, specimens and ephemera in your steamer trunks, sock drawers and dusty fireplace mantles.

“Everything that we see is a shadow cast by that which we do not see.” Martin Luther King, Jr.

I found this book in my grandmother’s basement in a box of crusty disintegrating old books. A faded and waterstained, embossed, fabric-covered, hunter green book with the title Shadowland having been cut out of a different source and glued diagonally across the front. This quote is taped alongside it:

From out a thousand years
A moment came-and went
To bring but future tears,
A passing instant sent.

What matter all regret
Lives are lived for less-
Just one moment set
In perfect happiness.

The original book has the words French Revolution printed on the spine of the book, though they are barely legible. I searched on Google Book Search for some of the pieces of text in the book, and found it includes “Translations and Reprints from the Original Sources of European History, Typical Cahiers of 1789″, which was published by the Department of History of the University of Pennsylvania in 1898. I believe that Lincoln College, the historically black college my Great Great Grandfather attended, must have used this text for one of its classes.

The name Reginald W. Stewart is written inside the front cover. The title page, and several other pages are missing. The pages are brittle and brown, and most of them have been pasted over with the yellowing cut out sections of a newspaper series called John-A-Dreams. It is a collection of dream interpretations with titles such as: VIII. Significance of the Fruits That Grow on Dream Trees; LXXL. Dreams of Writing, Pens and Pencils. They begin in the first pages of the book with:
1. When you See Little Children.

Here is an excerpt:

Difficult to interpret, but, fortunately easy to remember, are dreams about little children. It is one of the quaint characteristics of slumber figments that some are so elusive that waking memory vainly tries to recall them, while others seem to have more substance and cling to recollection; among these are dreams about little children.
If you see a baby asleep, a hasty marriage of one near or dear to you is certain to occur. If you take the babe in your arms you will be the bride; if you are a married woman, a child of yours, or if you are childless, the child of your brother or sister, will be taken ill …

It continues on in this fashion describing many different appearances of children in dreams for four paragraphs. Then closes with:

(Copyright , 1922, by W.C.P. Co.)
Tomorrow’s chapter will deal with Spirits come to Earth.
John a Dreams will be glad to interpret dream experiences sent to the Dream Editor of the Star-Eagle by its readers. No replies will however be given privately and no fee will at any time be asked or accepted. It is distinctly understood that there can be no guarantee when such questions will be answered, though every effort will be made to satisfy inquiries within three or four weeks. PLEASE WRITE ON ONE SIDE OF THE PAPER ONLY.

When illustrations are included, they are glued on the left page, but more often the left page still shows the text of the French Revolution book, and the article is glued on the right. Several pages have nothing glued in, but others have many loose clippings of John-a-Dreams just slipped between the pages. Only one includes the top of the newspaper page and includes: Newark Star-Eagle March 3, 1922.

The title “Shadowland” was apparently cut from the cover of a magazine by that name. (see sample) It was published 1919-1923 by Brewster publications, and covered motion pictures and theatre. I have no idea if Reginald was a subscriber of this magazine, but I found a cover alone valued at $90, and a different full issue is now listed for $750!!! A few treasures like that would have been nice to find, but I’m happy enough with my discovery.

I have written in more detail about my Great Great Grandfather’s life here. I have almost more questions than I have facts, but here are some facts about his life:

• He was born Jan 1, 1870 (according to his death certficiate)
• In 1880 he lived in Dover, Lafayette Co., MO listed as Robert Honeybus with his parents: Thomas & Martha Honeybus, likely former slaves.
• He probably was married in about 1889 to Eliza A. Mary Mason, maybe in Denver.
• His son with Eliza, Samuel Sylvester Stewart, was born in Cripple Creek, CO anywhere from 1893 to about Dec 13, 1902
• He was enrolled as Reginald W. Stewart at Lincoln College, Oxford, PA in 1903, 1904 & 1905. His residence was listed as Grand Rapids, MI. “He helped supported his studies by singing and occasionally working in restaurants – waiting on tables, playing the piano, violin, mandolin.”
• He and Eliza were divorced
• He probably married Jane Johnson sometime before 1907.
• His son with Jane, Rex Stewart, Jr. was born Feb 22, 1907. Rex went on to achieve fame as a coronet player with Duke Ellington’s Band.
• He resided in 1910 in Washington DC, listed as married, with wife Jane and son Rex. They were divorced while Rex was a young child.
• He resided in 1920 in Newark, NJ now back with his first wife Eliza, son Samuel, granddaughter Mary, and was employed as an insurance broker
• He resided in 1930 in Newark, NJ with his wife Eliza, granddaughter Mary, and was employed as a Life Insurance Salesman. His son lived next door with his second wife and their children.
• At some point, he and Eliza divorced. He then married Ethel Garrett.
• He died March 26, 1945 of cancer of the intestine. At his funeral, his obituary was read by the president of the Lincoln University Alumni Association. He is buried in Evergreen Cemetery in Newark, NJ (a site I have not yet located).

I have questions about the circumstances of the family name change from Honeybus to Stewart, the facts around each of his marriages, the birth of his son, the family whereabouts in 1900, and where he was trained musically, among others. But those will hopefully be answered someday.

I still remember my delight at finding this treasure. I wondered if someone else in the family had assembled the clippings in Reginald’s old school book, but Grandma was sure it was her grandfather who kept it. How peculiar! Did he send in his own dreams for interpretation? Did he keep any other books like this? Did he have such vivid dreams that he was intent on finding their meaning? Could he ever have dreamed that his Great Great Granddaughter would stumble on this book, attempt to reconstruct the details of his life, and share them with the world? I don’t have many family heirlooms, but I value this one so much because of its personal nature. It’s late now, so I’m off to Shadowland myself. I’ll close with one more fitting quote:

“Men are the dreams of a shadow.” Pindar (Greek lyric poet of ancient Greece, the master of epinicia, 518-446)

This post is written for the 57th Carnival of Genealogy, hosted by Jasia of Creative Gene: “I read it in the news!”

What a sad surprise I found one day when I was searching Ancestry.com for any records about my Great Great Great Grandfather, Thomas Donovan. Of course I knew he was long dead, but now instead of the benign image of the “good death” that I generally want to imagine: a quiet house, the family close by, final good byes have been said at a ripe old age, and a peaceful passing, I had the sad facts behind his actual death:

Body of Well Known Citizen found in Glove Company’s Waterway Sunday Morning. Thomas Donovan, for many years a resident of Naugatuck, who resided with his family on Church Street was found drowned yesterday morning at about 11 o’clock n the Glove company’s North Water street raceway. The body was first seen by Mr. Swanson, who is employed by L.D. Warner of Church street and Chief of Police Schmidt and Medical Examiner Tuttle were notified as quickly as possible. Both officials responded promptly but it was nearly 1 pm before the body was taken from the water. After making an examination of the body, Medical Examiner Tuttle permitted it to be removed to McCarthy’s morgue. The relatives of the deceased were notified and the body was taken to his late home on Church street. The body had evidently been in the water for several hours. There were no marks(?) upon it to indicate that the deceased had been a victim of foul play, and it is the general opinion that death was accidental.

Mr. Donovan was employed on _____ streets under Head Superintendent Pitcher and had the reputation of being one of the most faithful workman in the latter’s employ. So far as can be learned he was last seen in the ______ Saturday night shortly after 10 o’clock. He did not return home Saturday night and it is thought that his fatality occurred sometime during the night.

He leaves one son, William Donovan, and four daughters, Mrs. Patrick Rooney of Scott Street, Mrs. Michael Morris of Cherry Street, Mrs. William Ryan of Gorman Street and Miss Margaret Donovan of Church Street. The funeral will take place to-morrow morning at 8:30 from the home and then 9 o’clock at St. Francis church. The interment will be in St. James’ cemetery. Naugatuck Daily News July 22, 1901

Of course, as a family historian, I was just happy to find my ancestor’s name in print in any record, so there was a certain pleasure in finding the story. But then, just as I do today when I hear about some awful tragedy, I pictured the family. His wife had died the previous year. He lived with his unmarried daughter Margaret. I imagine she was expecting him home in the night, but probably went to sleep, and was immediately concerned when she discovered him missing in the morning. I imagine her questioning her family, (In 1901 did they even have a phone, or did she have to run to a neighbor or her brother or sisters.) Then the dread moment when they learned the truth. Did they save this newspaper clipping, or was their own heartbreak reminder enough? His youngest child, my great great grandmother Elizabeth was 27 years old, a year older than I was when my own father died unexpectedly, but she had the added sadness of having lost her mother already. Also, I learned from the paper, that after having sat in the water for hours, his body was sent to the morgue, then to his family home until the funeral the following morning. I’m sure the house was filled with neighbors, friends and family as they came to remember him – an Irish wake. But it’s rather different now, and I don’t think it’s necessarily better for us to be so removed from the process, (and the body) as we are in these days when we have a death in the family.

I never knew this sad story, nor did my great aunt Betty, who still lives in Connecticut and had shared many stories with me about the Donovan & Ryan families. Still, when I find out sad truths about my ancestors lives, I feel grateful for the chance to learn about their real lives rather than the blankness of not knowing. I think it’s because through this small trace left behind I was given the chance to share their experience, bringing me closer to them because I can imagine their lives more fully, even in grief.

Of course, once the shock of finding the story wore off, I picked it apart for shortcomings. Couldn’t they have mentioned his parents names? little more biographical detail? While writing this, I went back to Ancestry to look at the image, something I was not able to print years ago when I found it, although I transcribed it as well as I could. I no longer have access to the story, but now I see there was a follow-up story about his funeral a few days later! To be continued…

This past May 17, 2008 I was thrilled to attend the 150th Anniversary Celebration of St. Augustine Catholic Church in Washington DC. The story of how I came to be there is an interesting example of how the internet brings about real-life connections. In 1997, I attended the Carter-Wooling-Gwyn Family Reunion, my first time attending this reunion of my grandfather James Gwyn’s people. Grandpa’s sister Sarah married James Wooling, whose mother was a Carter – and the Carter-Wooling family has kept their ties strong by holding regular family reunions. I was determined to go, as I had recently (via the internet) located children of Grandpa’s brother David. David and his wife had gotten divorced, and their young children had been lost to the rest of the family for over 50 years.

At the reunion, one of my Wooling cousins showed me photographs of a man in priestly vestments, but no one there knew his name, only that he was a cousin of Aquila Greenleaf, my great grandmother, and that he was an early black priest in the United States. It wasn’t until August of 2005 that another cousin emailed me, saying that she found a shoebox with a copy of the priest photo labeled “Aquila Greenleaf’s first cousin Norman Duquette, the 8th black Catholic priest ordained (in the US?)”

Armed with a name, I went off in hot pursuit and was quickly rewarded with several finds in Google, one of which was the History of the Archdiocese of Detroit. In their history they wrote that in 1926, Father Norman Anthony DuKette was the first African American priest ordained in Detroit. The Archodiocese told me that Father DuKette had founded Christ the King Parish of Flint, MI. When I called to ask for information, I was put in touch with one of the elderly members of that congregation who was a companion of Father DuKette and cared for him before he passed away in 1980 at age 89. He sent me some biographical materials, including Father DuKette’s parents’ names: John H. F. Duckett and Letitia Greenleaf. Letitia (May 1850 – ?) was my Great Great Grandfather Tillman Greenleaf’s sister. (Norman had adopted the spelling DuKette, but his parents and the rest of his family used Duckett) I was also given the name of a niece in Washington DC, along the programs from the 50th and 75th Anniversary of Christ the King parish. Father DuKette was remembered as a no-nonsense, strict but loving man of God. (I’ll write more about him in a separate post…)

In February of this year, Dena Grant, one of the co-chairs of St. Augustine Centennial Celebration emailed me after finding a blog post I had written about Father DuKette. Father Norman was the first baby who was baptized in their congregation to go on to the priesthood. The church was planning to honor Father DuKette as a “Son of the Church” and was welcoming any relatives who wanted to attend their celebration. About a year prior I had located (via the internet) Father DuKette’s niece and her family, and when I called to tell them about the dinner they said they wanted to attend. It would have all been beyond my means, but my grandmother very generously bought the two $150 tickets for us to attend the Gala fundraising dinner. Then she footed the bill for our Amtrak train tickets. Two more cousins, Clayton & Juanita, the daughter of my grandfather’s sister Lola drove in from Jeffersonville, Indiana to attend the dinner. The greatest treat was that without ever having met us, one of my 4th cousins, Chip & his wife Flo offered all four of us a place to stay at their home in nearby Maryland. We were so grateful for their gracious hospitality, and stunned by the beauty of their home, where we each were given a gorgeous room and separate bath. Chip’s mom (and Father DuKette’s great-niece), Penny and I became fast friends. We first met at Union station in Washington, DC when she picked Grandma & me up. Then Penny took us for a quick driving tour of the Capitol, and kindly drove us around all weekend: visiting family, attending the Gala, going to Church services, a reception at the Washington Post Building, which was the original site of the magnificent brick church that the congregation had originally built, and finally back to the station when our visit was over.

Before attending the dinner, I was completely ignorant of all of the rich history of Black Catholics in our country, and afterwards I spent some time gathering some more information for this post. St. Augustine is known as “The Mother Church of African American Catholics in the Nation’s Capitol”. The original school was named for Blessed Martin de Porres who was born in 1579 in Lima Peru, the illegitimate son of a Spanish nobleman, Juan, and a young freed black slave, Anna Velasquez. He was beatified in 1873, and canonized in 1962.

From US Catholic Magazine’s timeline of Black Catholic History:

A handful of women from Baltimore’s Haitian refugee colony begin to educate local children in their homes. With the support of the archbishop, in 1829 they create the Oblate Sisters of Providence. The first superior is Elizabeth Lange, born in Cuba of Haitian parents.

From the Celebration Program:

Saint Augustine Parish traces its heritage to 1858 and the efforts of a group of dedicated emancipated Black Catholics. Faced with a society that was not yet willing to put off the last vestiges of slavery and a Church that, at best tolerated the presence of Black people in its congregation, these men and women The Oblate Sisters of Provence) founded a Catholic school and chapel on 15th Street under the patronage of Blessed Martin de Porres. In what is perhaps a touch of historical irony, this school was operating four years before mandatory free public education of Black children became law in the Nation’s Capital.

From the Society of St. Joseph of the Sacred Heart:

St. Francis Xavier Church in East Baltimore was the first Catholic Church in the United States officially established for Negroes. The church was purchased on October 10, 1863 and dedicated February 21, 1864, with a group of Black San Domingo refugees, who were Catholic, and the Sulpician Fathers, who had fled the French Revolution and settled in Baltimore.

The Sulpician Fathers arrived in Baltimore in early 1790. Soon after the Sulpicians had settled at St. Mary’s Seminary on Pennsylvania Road (now Pennsylvania Avenue); there arrived in Baltimore a large number of Negro Catholic refugees. According to the Maryland Gazette, date: Thursday, July 11, 1791, the arrival in Baltimore at Fell’s Point, six ships, being a part of the French fleet which sailed from Cape Francois on June 23, 1793. Aboard the ships were between 500 and 1000 Negroes, slave and free. Most of the free Blacks were wealthy and educated. Whether slave or free, the refugees were Catholic and spoke fluent French.

The original St. Augustine Church was built in 1876 on the site of the current Washington Post newspaper.

In 1889, St. Augustine Catholic Church was the host of the 1st National Black Catholic Congress a meeting “to address the needs of Black Catholics. Distinguished Men of African descent came from all over the United State to participate in this historic event.”

The dinner was lovely, and included a marvelous history lesson and slide show, which is where I got the images I have included above.

From my 2008 Scrapbook – Clockwise from top left: BF & his Blue Notes Band, Penny’s with her sons and their wives, Mrs. Malloy with DuKette School Staff, Chip with Dena Grant- Co-Chair of the Anniversary Committee, Penny & me, the last dance, Gail Schneider-Negrinelli, Principal (seated) & Florence Kryglowski-Allen of DuKette Catholic School, Flint, MI, Cousin Juanita & me.)

The Gala Celebration program was full of support ads from the descendants of the founding members of the church, current members, alumni of the school, letters from their faith community, even the pope and the president! The principal and a school associate of the DuKette Catholic School flew in from Flint, MI. There were nuns who taught at the St. Augustine school, priests who served the parish, elders of the community, distant relatives like me, and the whole church family, and all of us were completely moved to be part of the celebration. The following morning we attended services at the church, my first Catholic service. I was intensely moved to imagine my ancestors taking part in a similar service, singing those songs, surrounded by a community of like minded people who did all they could to uplift their families and neighbors with education and worship. It was a beautiful service, and chills went down my arms as the music resonated through the sanctuary and through me. I will never forget this experience, and will especially treasure my new-found cousins for sharing with me so generously. At the Gala Celebration, when they called for one of Father DuKette’s family members to come up to receive a plaque in his memory, Cousin Penny waved for me to go. I was full of emotion standing up for our family, and brought the plaque straight to Penny’s mom, Mrs. Malloy, to honor her as an elder and Father DuKette’s closest living relative. I know our ancestors would have been very proud to see this day.

I wrote this post for Terry Thornton’s Getting to Know You writing challenge at Hill Country of Monroe County . Thanks Terry!

I am a 38 year old woman, the eldest of 3 sisters, grew up in New Jersey as the child of hippie parents. I am married with 3 sons, and now live in a sweet home three blocks from the beach, where I feel very blessed to have the love of family and friends, and the luxury of time and resources to follow several creative pursuits. I work helping people with computers, giving private lessons, and helping people organize and enjoy their photographs, family history and living spaces. I also enjoy sewing, scrapbooking, hand embroidery, and many other crafty projects. I feel like I have found my life’s purpose in helping other people by using my creative abilities. Whether it is researching, listening and recording information, organizing photos or helping people deal with the clutter of their lives so they can enjoy the things that are precious, I am happily working, and continually rewarded with the positive responses of the people I work with. My goals in writing this blog are to share my work with our family, friends, and anyone else who shares a love of family stories and history. I believe there is a great deal of comfort to be found in sharing stories. Doing this research, writing about it, and documenting it brings me so much joy. Many cousins who were previously unknown to me have stumbled on my family history while searching for the name of their own loved ones. Also, many of my family members are very grateful for my work in shedding light on the lives of our ancestors. I hope that people are encouraged to ask questions of their own family, and record the stories so they will not be lost, whether it is done the old fashioned way with ears and a pen, or with digital audio and video.

Brightest: Letting his Freak Flag Fly This is my best work, because I felt confident in writing it that I could tell some hard truths but with compassion, that I could observe my father’s dazzling brilliance and devastating failure from another perspective than that of a hurt child.

Breeziest: Mother’s Day
I’ve never tried to be funny on my blog, and don’t even think I have a lot of funny stories to share – but this post seemed sprightly, as I was delighted with my lovely cards and my Happy Mother’s Day when I wrote it.

Most Beautiful: One Woman – “Nanny” Mary Eliza Mason Stewart 1871-1965 I think it is most beautiful because it presents a beautiful life story of the woman who is considered the foundation of my family, whose beauty was shown with her love and hard work.

I have a history of exchanging letters with friends and family since I sent my first letter at age seven. I think of my blogs and social networks in the same way, sharing feelings and news (albeit a lot of old news), and I enjoy learning about other people’s lives through their blogs, for the same reason I love reading biographies and history. Though I don’t use the web to air a lot of “dirty laundry” I openly share a great deal of my personal life. For many years I have been an information resource for many people, and even though each life is unique, the themes and feelings are generally commonly shared among all people. So I share my frustrations and joys, questions and answers in the hopes that the connections I make with other people will be a blessing to both of us. Also, I hope to let others know that painful pasts and sad family stories don’t have to be a source of shame. The process of closely examining the pain and sadness can give us the strength and courage to change the end of the story.

As a neglectful blogger, I am very grateful for the inspiration I have found by participating in two Blog Carnivals: namely the Carnival of Genealogy, and more recently Smile for the Camera (links coming – Carnival site is down). Even though I have 14 posts saved up to write, I actually got off my duff and put together some posts so I could be part of these carnivals, and I’m so glad I did! I’m sure it has led many people to read what I have shared, among them the two new friends who heart my blog. Many thanks to Travis at TJLGenes : Preserving Our Family History and A. Spence at Spence-Lowry Family History for tagging me!

Here are some blogs I always enjoy reading:

• Jasia’s blog Creative Genealogy and More
• George Geder: Genealogy – Photography – Restoration
• Susan A. Kitchens: Family Oral History Using Digital Tools
• footnoteMaven: Shades of the Departed
• Thomas MacEntee: Destination Austin Family
• Pat Richley: DearMYRTLE: Your friend in genealogy
• Terry Thornton: Hill Country of Monroe County, Mississippi

The rules associated with this particular tag include that the tagged blogger can :

can put the logo on his/her blog

must link to the person who gave the award

must nominate seven other blogs and link to them

must leave a comment on each of the nominated blogs