Memory Lane

When I read about the topic for this month’s Carnival of Genealogy, I came up blank.  I know many families share stories and lore about the family car.  I seem to have come from a family that barely drove! My mother’s mother “Grammie” lived her whole life (1922 - 1993) having never had a license or driven a car. She took the train and the bus to get around, and of course, had friends who took her places.

My father (1951-1996) also never had a license.  I don’t really know why, although he was a bit of a drifter and after he died, I was able to fit most of his worldy accumulation into my husband’s Chevy Nova Hatchback. (All but a Hammond Organ I had to leave behind). He probably really could have used his own automobile, as he was a musician, and regularly had gigs that took him from state to state, and always with gear - amps, guitars, drums, etc. But someone else always drove him where he needed to be. I remember many times waiting for someone to come pick us up - always the friends - chipping in for gas, loading the equipment.

Here is a rare photo of my dad, with me in the back of my Grandpa’s station wagon after a day at the beach.

My mother, who was our steady parent while my father was off here and there (in other people’s cars!) used to have an old Vega - and my only memory of this car is from a day when she was attempting to pull out of a supermarket that had a parking lot at the bottom of a rather steep driveway.  Apparently it was a stick shift, and something was wrong with it, and we kept rolling back and stalling as she got more and more flustered. Then she bought a Chevette, which may have even been a new car, a cute burgundy hatchback, and that was our car for many years.

I seemed about to carry on the car-less tradition. Age 17 came along, with driver’s ed classes, and one brief driving lesson with my stepfather in his Corolla.  He pointed me down a street - I dutifully turned, and was immediately pulled over (How do you pull over!?!?) by a police officer who told us we were driving the wrong way down the street.  Great lesson!  I had been taking the bus since age 13, quickly graduated to train travel for trips to New York City and down to the shore, and then I rode my bike whereever I needed to go. For a long time, I felt almost un-American by the response of new acquaintances who learned I didn’t drive.  I continued that way until I was 26 years old!  By then I was newly married, and we lived for a short while with my in-laws.   I was stuck in the house and far from public transportation for the first time, and I felt so trapped. Of course, once I got my license I couldn’t believe I waited so long.  I imagine for many people who grew up in urban areas in New Jersey like I did, there wasn’t a “family car”, rather we had the neighborhood bus line. It’s a different way of life, and one that puts you in close contact with people from all walks of life.  As for now, I drive a mini-van with my three sons, and I hope they have a lot of happy memories of family time and nice vacation drives in our rather clean, boring beige, Toyota Sienna mini-van (complete with movies for long trips!)

Oh, how to explain - I have been so busy researching and talking family history (and getting photos, scanning, etc.) that I haven’t been blogging!

However, I finally converted some more of my Woodstock era footage and have posted it on YouTube

I guess I might attempt to write up several small posts about my most recent finds.  It’s continually amazing to me how one thing leads to another, and my circle of friends and family is growing in such beautiful ways.

Well, I’ve been gone, but hopefully not forgotten. I don’t know what it is that keeps me from just taking a few minutes to sit and write, but hopefully this post will usher in a new period of faithful and regular blogging. I have not been researching much recently, despite several weeks of intense research just before Christmas. I was rushing to hopefully complete an article about my distant relative, Father Norman DuKette in time for publication in American Legacy magazine. His home church will be celebrating its 150th anniversary this year, and I hoped that I could draw some interest to them with the article. Unfortunately I have been unable to obtain any research materials thorugh interlibrary loan, and the one scholar I hoped might be able to share some of her work with me would not return my calls. The materials I gathered on my own will have to serve. But then I got sick just before Christmas. Then Christmas and all of its events came, and then a second bout of illness in the family. We are only now recovered. Some good news I have to share is that I have a new computer. My old one was very slow, and unable to make DVD’s, so I’m very much looking forward to many creative projects on my new computer. I will post later about my new computer and some new software I’ve been trying out. I really wanted to just “break the ice” so to speak, after so long since I’ve written. I’m hoping to start fresh with this new year and make progress on several different fronts. I have a few projects to share: I created my first Ancestry Press book as a gift for my Uncle Andy & Aunt Bernadette, featuring their combined family history. I was grateful for the cooperation of Bernadette’s family, who shared lots of history and photos. The finished product was wonderful and a great introductory price of only $29.99! I hope to make many more of these books, as long as the price is right. Also, I completed my own 2007 family scrapbook, although like my others, it is lacking in journaling. Now that my new computer is here, I hope to catch up with that. Another family history related gift was for my sister-in-law Jennifer. I bought a nice looking “fill-in-the-blank” family history book for her with a matching photo scrapbook. I gathered family photos and information for her and filled it in her book. Jen’s mom was very happy with the finished results and plans to hire me to do more work on her lines. Certainly that’s exactly the kind of work I hope to pursue in my business, so I’m eager to do that with her. That’s all for now, but I’ll be back again soon with more news and posts.

I have been away on Summer Vacation I guess. I have several things to share, and will split them into separate entries. Hopefully I’ll catch up on my summer activities quickly, and then on to big news!!

This post is about my visit to my friend Karl’s late Grandmother’s home.

From her obituary: ELZA KATARINA BERZINS, 98, of NEPTUNE, passed away Saturday, July 28. She was born in Riga, Latvia and immigrated to the United States in 1960. She worked as a sewing machine operator, and was a member of the Lakewood New Brunswick Latvian Lutheran Church.

Karl is a good friend of my husband Trip from grammar school days, and he invited me to come to her home with him while he and his sister looked through her home for personal mementos to keep before they gave away her belongings and sold her home. My first thoughts of that day are of her very tidy home and beautiful garden. I hope that when I die my loved ones find such order in my home. In a way it’s a gift to those you leave behind, not to have the burden of a mess of unfinished business and a house full of things to be dealt with. Plus, I like to think that with so many affairs in order, Elza was at peace in her last days, to leave such a peaceful home behind.

Karl thought his grandma might have some machines or other sewing stuff I could use. As it was, I had no need of most of her sewing things, having been the beneficiary of some other friends’ grandmother’s sewing stashes. The items I asked to take were: the photo below, several old house dresses, and a bandana.

I was very impressed with Elza’s strong connection to her Latvian heritage. The newspaper on her coffee table, nearly all of the books on her shelves were in Latvian, even her caregiver spoke Latvian. She had several of her own handmade needleworks, which I’m sure represented Latvian folk designs, although the colors probably showed probably their vintage age as much as their Latvian connection.

I was also glad to see she had carefully preserved many letters, family photos, and other ephemera. The sad part is that all of these appeared to be in Latvian only, and Karl does not speak the language. I can’t say that he shares my love of (obsession with) family history. But all of the history that may be recorded in those documents is lost to him until he can find a translator. So I’m taking this opportunity to say, if you have an elderly relation who speaks a foreign language, please make sure that you spend some time with them to hear their stories in your language, and make sure you gather those gems of knowledge while you can. (Of course, the same is true of any one who may hold family history, young or old, talk while you can AND WRITE IT ALL DOWN! because those are the records that last.)

I had assumed (never assume!) that Karl was German for some reason - I think it was because he called his Grandmother “Oma” and I knew that as a German name for Grandma. When he first mentioned his Latvian heritage, I had to tell him about my experience as a 5th grader with what I just learned was the Latvian Church Camp “Nometne” in Elka Park, NY. As a birthday gift, my Grammie Ruth gave me a ski jacket and pants, and 3 trips to Hunter Mountain with my mom and Grammie’s company’s ski club. It was all very special to me, but I especially remember this Latvian Lodge where we stayed on our trips. The ladies there fixed us breakfasts the likes of which I’ve never seen. A huge bounty of food, eggs, potatoes, sausages, onions, ham. The food was piled high, and they STRONGLY encouraged me to “Eat, Eat! Take some more!” Then they wanted us to fix sandwiches for lunch on the mountain. We’d return with sore muscles to an equally wonderful spread for dinner! The ladies were all warm and kind, but looked like they had seen very hard times. I remember saying something about it to my mom, and I think she told me a quick 5th grader version of what she knew about Latvia and its oppression by Russia.

While preparing to write this post, I came across this website of Latvian Genealogy, and thought I’d include it here. It’s full of information, and I find myself wishing I could share Karl’s ancestry there… I believe Karl and his sister were entrusting Elza’s caregiver to pass along a good deal of her things to the Latvian society, where I hope they will be preserved and shared. (I can’t imagine a lot of those Latvian books are easy to come by at this point.) I’ll close for now with a reminder to call your grandma!

I have been a bad blogger - but a busy and productive scrapper, card maker, sewist (so much more appealing than the other name sewing enthusiasts have “sewer”), and mom. I never did make a post about this, but I meant to! For Mother’s Day, when I was planning to visit my mother-in-law briefly before joining my paternal grandmother and all of my aunts for a Mother’s Day dinner hosted at my dear cousin Duane’s house, I made cards for all the moms (Grandma, Mom, Mother-in-law Jean, Aunts Doreen & Marilyn, Cousins Pam, Leslie & Camille) with all of the available photos of their maternal ancestors! They were a huge hit! I had a ball making them. Being able to spend a great deal of time Saturday and a little time Sunday making them was part of the way I celebrated Mother’s Day. If I had nothing else to do, I would love to spend my time sewing, scrapbooking or card making. I am endeavoring to do more of all of those things consistently every day! (For example, today I invited a friend over for the specific purpose of “babysitting” me so that I could focus on a few sewing projects - rather than puttering around the house or anything else.) We decided that we will do it again. She will bring a portable photo sorting/scrapping project, and I will sew in her company. Today I finished hemming three curtains for my mother-in-law, and made a seat cushion for my kids’ desk chair. (still have to finish by hand, so no pic yet!) Here are my lovely Mother’s Day Cards:

I used a few different coordinating scrapbook papers for these cards: Fiskar’s Heidi Grace Papers: one sheet of striped designs, and one solid, along with two or three of K & Company’s Photo Matting Papers.
Here is the one I made for my mom:

I embellished with glitter and pearly white buttons. Inside looks like this:

I used Adobe Photoshop to resize the pictures so that the faces would fit into the 1 1/4 inch circles I wanted to use. (Of course, it wasn’t until tediously cutting out all of these circles that I decided a correctly sized circle punch was a good investment!). Hope all you moms out there had a lovely Mother’s Day!

I haven’t even begun to fully digest all of the findings my “cousin” Raymond has been sharing with me. I think we have become a team of sorts. First, he sent me money to contribute to my work! Something I always appreciate, but which even my close family has not done much of. Second, using a list I prepared for him as I digested his findings and my own, he paid an excellent Wythe County researcher, Mary Kegley, to search for the records that pertain to both of our slave ancestors. Mary went to Montgomery County, VA and searched the records there, and also has sent many records from Wythe County that are helping both of us to piece our history back together. Remarkably, while reading a will looking for Raymond’s slave ancestor, I believe I came across another two of my own! I was actually a little overcome when I saw them listed there, my GGG Grandfather Wesley Johnson and his son Hampton Johnson, valued at $650, and $475, respectively. The date of the document conflicts with the date I have for Hampton’s birth, but I have not examined anything in fine detail yet. Raymond’s ancestor Hannah is listed there, and several more documents about her daughter Harriet, along with the name of Harriet’s husband and children (with married names!). I immediately went on Ancestry.com and found as many descendants as I could, and although I haven’t yet found a living descendant of this new branch of the family, I know that Raymond and his cousin Jimmy know of them. It’s been very exciting getting to see how far our family tree branches out, once again.

Despite being absent from blog world, I have been VERY busy and happily productive at home, with a few things to share in the realm of family history.

Three different distant relatives of my Johnson - Sayles - Sanders branch of the family from Wythe County Virginia have contacted me in the last few weeks, All of them found my website while searching for their family history and were unaware of each other before writing to me. They were all very excited to find all of the research posted on my website and we have exchanged a lot of emails. On my end, I spent many hours on Ancestry following the names they gave me, and I was rewarded by making many new finds for them (in turn, my new cousin Raymond (not really my cousin, but we are claiming each other as family nonetheless) sent me $50 towards “the cause”!) I also sent a fabulous package of family history to my newly met eleven year old cousin Duane (who is my 5th cousin on one line and my 1st Cousin three times removed on another!). He asked me a lot of questions, as they were led to search for Duane’s history for a school assignment. This branch of the family is very light skinned - many of his great grandparents obviously have caucasian ancestry - and he was very curious about exactly how to define his ancestry. I think simply saying African American was vague and left out a large part of his background. I tried to be as frank as I could while respecting his age and explained that without DNA evidence, although we know he has SOME caucasian ancestry, we can’t know exactly WHICH country is represented. Still, he got a several generation Pedigree Chart, a 36 page scroll of his known relatives and ancestors, copies of some family Census Records & several photos along with images and descriptions of the Pan African flag and the African American flag - which I told him he could certainly claim since he really wanted to include a flag of his ancestry (as his teacher seemed to require).

That same week, I cam across Wired magazine’s RAVE awards for innovators, instigators and inventors honoring Henry Louis Gates, Jr. for his work in developing a history and science curriculum that “lets students study the science behind their own DNA and reconstruct their own genealogy”. Of course I think this is fantastic! I am planning to write to Mr. Gates, but I am not quite sure what to say yet. I really wish I could get in on a “free grant” for DNA testing, but that may just be a fantasy. I have thought for a long time that history should be taught with an emphasis on family history - and with the added bonus of recording precious family history, inspiring a new generation of genealogists and teaching proper research methods, interview skills, etc. The DNA part must be kind of expensive, but still a very cool subject!

My family called her “Nanny”. She was my grandmother’s paternal grandmother, but a far more central figure, because she raised my grandmother from birth, following the tragic death of my great grandmother Addie Johnson Stewart during childbirth. Her remarkable life inspires me even today.

Mary Mason was born January 1, 1871 in Murfreesboro, TN the second daughter of 10 children born to Samuel Mason and Mary Jane Jamison Mason, former slaves. Our family’s oral history is that Mary Eliza Mason was Choctaw, but I have not uncovered evidence of that. Her father Samuel was likely a former slave, listed as black on all of his records. Her mother, Mary Jane Jamison was the oldest of nine children of Monroe and Jemima Jamison, both likely former slaves from Tennessee, several of whom went on to become leaders in the work of improving lives in the black community. I imagine that some of the Nanny’s drive in life came from the example of her mother’s family.

Samuel & Mary Jane Mason, along with their four children at that time were part of the Exoduster movement. This mass migration was an effort by many poor black families to get away from the violence and poor opportunities in the south. It was encouraged by businesses like the Santa Fe Railroad, with it’s glowing advertisements, and several organizations like the Tennessee Real Estate and Homestead Association founded in Nashville, TN in part by Benjamin “Pap” Singleton. In 1879 and 1880, when Sam’s family moved, over 25,000 people came to Kansas.

Once in Topeka, the family may have struggled to find their footing among the thousands who came with little or nothing. But Topeka had a black population familiar with protest, the political process, and invested in social and race progress. Among Mary’s mothers siblings were several professionals. One of her uncles, Dr. J. M. Jamison was employed by the Santa Fe railroad as a company physician. His wife was prominent in the social life of black Topeka, and active in the Topeka affiliate of National Federation of Colored Women’s Clubs. The Plaindealer newspaper called that group, “a band of earnest, intelligent colored women who have given and are giving much of their lives to lift the race to a higher plane.” Mary’s Uncle Wesley I. Jamison was a lawyer and justice of the peace. He later served as a Judge. Her aunt, Mrs. Sally Malone ran the Florence Crittendon Home for Unwed Mothers, in addition to raising her own seven children. I believe that their example, along with a deeply held Christian faith played a strong role in shaping Mary’s destiny.

I have few facts about Mary’s childhood, and have not located any records for her young adulthood. Her obituary states that she left Topeka at age 17 to marry Reginald W. Stewart in Denver, CO. Their son Samuel Sylvester Stewart was born in Cripple Creek, CO in about 1893. My grandmother has told me that Nanny once had a job as a laundress in the “Red Light district” in Denver. But I know nothing about their lives during Samuel’s growing up, beyond two photos of Mary & Samuel, one taken in Topeka, Kansas when Samuel was still an infant, and a later photo from about 1910.

By 1903, her husband Reginald was enrolled as a student at Lincoln University, listed as single. He went on to meet and marry another woman Jane Johnson, and fathered a son with her, Rex Stewart - who went on to fame as a coronet player with Duke Ellington’s band. In 1910, Eliza and Samuel are missing from census records, although Reginald was living with his new family in Washington, DC. In 1917, Samuel signed a World War I draft registration card in Syracuse, NY, saying he had spent 4 years in a military school in Kansas. Although I have not located a record of this, in about 1918 Samuel was married to Addie Jane Johnson of Wytheville, Virginia, a graduate of Morgan College in Maryland. Then he enlisted and served in Europe in World War I.

Mary’s life for this period is missing from the records I have searched. But in 1918 her life changed dramatically. Her daughter-in-law Addie Jane died of “childbed fever” in a Newark hospital shortly after giving birth to her only daughter, Mary Elizabeth Addie Stewart. Nanny made a promise to Addie before she died to care for the baby who grew up to be my grandmother. In the 1920 Census, Mary was reunited with her husband Reginald. He worked as an insurance broker, she is listed as having no occupation, and her son, granddaughter, and a boarder are listed. My grandmother remembered the border, Florence Randolph, as her wet nurse. They lived on Hartford Street, in a home they owned, one of several properties Nanny purchased. Although Nanny is listed as having no occupation she actually had several.
Above is a card showing Mary’s membership in the Poro System, a school of black hair dressing founded by Annie Malone in St. Louis, MO that eventually spread to schools in many major cities. Grandma remembers Nanny doing hair, taking in laundry, cleaning houses for white families, and collecting rents on her properties as she continued to invest in real estate. In 1937, Nanny also had a business running a Tea Room.

As she raised her granddaughter, she instilled the values of faith, education, hard work and family. She took trips to Topeka regularly, somtimes bringing along my grandmother to visit with her family there, and also traveled several times to Wytheville, Virginia, so that my grandmother would know her mother’s people. The picture below is of my Grandmother Mary, Nanny, and Elizabeth Sayles Johnson, my grandmother’s maternal grandmother on one of their trips to visit the Johnson family.

She died before my lifetime, but her presence in our family was larger than life. She is talked of often, and with reverence, at my grandmother’s house when I spend time there. Her granddaughter Doreen Washington Abernathy remembers Nanny as hardworking and generous. She paid for piano lessons for Doreen and her sisters from a Mrs. Williams who came to the house for $3 an hour to teach. She read her Bible and The Upper Room, and on Sunday evenings would listen to radio programs by Reverend Fuller and Norman Vincent Peale. Her granddaughter Marilyn Washington remembers being given Juniper Tar syrup on sugar by Nanny for health. They described her thriftiness in re-fashioning clothing for the family, and the fact that she sewed aprons and sold them as well.

In addition to work, she was very active in her church. She was a member of 13th Avenue Presbyterian Church, and her obituary lists her involvement in the Inspirational Chorus, the Missionary Society and the Violet Club. Her obituary concludes with this paragraph:

In conclusion we can say that Mother Stewart fulfilled the description of a good woman as described in Proverbs 31st Chapter where it says: “Who can find a virtuous woman? For her price is far above rubies.” “She riseth also while it is yet night and giveth meat to her house-hold.” “She considereth a field and buyeth it: with the fruit of her hands she planteth a vinyard.” “She girdeth her loins with strength, and strengtheneth her arms.” “Strength and honor are her clothing, ans she shall rejoice in time to come.” “She openeth her mouth with wisdome; and in her tongue is the law of kindness.” “She looketh well to the ways of her household and eateth not the bread of idleness.” “Her children arise up, and call her blessed.” “Therefore give her of the fruit of her hands; and let her own works praise her in the gates.” Ma was all of these, and we are quite sure that her own works has praised her in the gates and she is now reaping the reward of her labor.

When I thought about One Woman to write about, she was my first thought. There are many remarkable women in my family, but Nanny stands out as one whose life might have appeared to hold little opportunity. Just the way one woman might thrown out an old outgrown dress, and another might fashion it into a ballgown, Nanny seemed to have a talent for taking what she was given and making it flourish.

I am quite flattered to have been tagged! Thank you David Bowles at Writing the Westward Sagas for reading my blog. Makes me feel bad that I have neglected it for so long - but I’m taking the plunge. I assume I’m supposed to share things related to family history, so here goes:

1.) I used to “pass for white”. I don’t necessarily subscribe to the “one drop” rule which for many people means that if you have one drop of black ancestry, you’re black. I consider myself bi-racial, and I pretty much always have, but for a while when I was younger, I kept it hidden. In grammar school, my sister and I both had traumatic experiences with racism when our bi-racial background came out suddenly (we didn’t hide it at that point, people just assumed we were white until we told them). When we moved several years later to a new school, I remember meeting with my guidance counselor in tears because I was so afraid I would be found out. At this point I know better, and I believe that although she, and my mother and my paternal grandparents thought they were protecting us, it was a mistake to encourage us to hide our background. My mother had actually gone so far as to tell one of her friends I had lied when I had told her my dad was black, but that’s another story. When we talked about this with our grandparents, my grandfather had gone so far as to say that if saw him on the street I shouldn’t feel I needed to acknowledge him, because he understood how cruel children could be. It all came up when my sister’s class was planning to take a trip to the Hayden Planetarium, where my Aunt Gwen worked at the time. It was decided that we should not risk being discovered by making contact with her. Not until my sister’s high school graduation, (when it was presumably “safe”) did my Grandmother appear with us at a school function - I doubt anyone even noticed. It makes me so sad to think about it now. But it all gave me an interesting perspective from which to observe and examine racial perceptions, labels and fears.

2.) DAR (that’s Daughters of the American Revolution) and Sons and Daughters of Trafalgar! I could claim membership in both of these genealogical organizations, although I am not likely to do so. I’m just to much of a penny pincher to spend the money for a certificate to show I’m in the club. Both Trip’s family and my own have members who fought in the Revolution. Across the pond, one of my maternal GGG Grandfathers was likely a crew member on one of the ships in the Battle of Trafalgar. I have not been quite able to prove the direct connection, although I know where it belongs. This sailor, William Atkinson (very likely the father of my GGG Grandmother Ann) wrote letters home to his mother in which he describes being “impressd”, and later recounts the battle, and his letters have been passed down in our family through his son William Atkinson Torrance, my GG Grandfather. Copies of the letters are now part of the National Maritime Museum in London. Even if I’m not really in the club, it’s nice to know I could be.

3.) I have an embarrasingly short branch on my tree. Besides their names, I know nothing of my GGG Grandparents, one of hundreds of William and Mary Ryan’s who came over from Ireland and lived in New York in the late 1800’s. I guess that’s not a big deep revelation - but the stubbiness of that line really bother’s me. Ryan is my mother’s maiden name, and my son Nathan’s middle name. I just wish I knew some more about my Irish heritage (besides the Donovan’s and Conroys).

4.) I have never been on a “real” boat ride. I’ve been on the Circle Line, and my brother-in-law drives the ferry between NY and NJ, but only those kinds of things and a rare speed boat, canoe or row boat ride here and there. I don’t know if I get sea-sick, I’ve never been on a boat longer than an hour. It’s something I’d really like to do. I am kind of afraid thinking about traveling across the ocean on a boat, although I would do it. My husband has an irrational fear of flying, and he would rather we never flew anywhere, so I’d better be able to cruise if I ever want to get to Europe! (And I’ve got some libraries in Ireland and England I’d LOVE to visit!)

5.) I’ve got an “Indian Princess” legend in my family. “Nanny” my Great Great Grandmother, I was told was the daughter of a Choctaw Chief. They were rather specific about the Chocatw part. I recently learned that this is a commonly shared family legend among many African American families. I read an interesting article about it here: Why your Great-Grandmother Wasn’t A Cherokee Princess. Nanny, Eliza Mary Mason Stewart raised my grandmother, after making a promise to her daugher-in-law Addie Jane Johnson Stewart , who died in childbirth. After much research, I learned that Nanny’s parents Samuel & Jane Jamison Mason were part of the Exoduster movement, bringing their family from Murphreesboro, TN to Topeka, KS in about 1880. Samuel Mason is listed as Black or Colored on every census record, Jane is listed as mulatto or colored on every census record, and both of Jane’s parents (Monroe & Jemima Jamison) are listed as colored on every census record. The Dawes Rolls that listed enrollment in the Five Tribes weren’t created until 1907. My grandmother has said (I’m sure only partly in jest) “There might have been an Indian in the woodpile” to explain the “Indian” features on some of our ancestors. Her maternal grandmother, Elizabeth Sayles Johnson looks like she has some Native American features, but who can say? I am glad to know them, in any case, and although I would be thrilled to find a connection to the native people of America, I would also be thrilled to find our connection to Africa!

I’m not really sure who to tag, I don’t know many bloggers, but I’ll look for five victims, I mean friendly bloggers that I need to learn more about.

Once I had what I considered a good system down for simple scrapbooking, I was determined to get my kids photos into scrapbooks.  I already have posted here about my process of getting my photos out of the boxes where they were stored (though sorted).  I never could let the kids look through them without worrying about them getting messed up.  Since that time, I have scrapped all of the years from 2006 back to 1999.  It was a nice trip into the past.  I have to admit they are not completely done, because I have not included the journaling on most of the pages.  (Journaling is what you call the words you write about the photos or the page).  I am planning to go through and write those blocks of journaling on the computer in text boxes measured to fit on the pages - possibly with different fonts, maybe some pages will have fancier titles.  So far all of the pages have the pictures mounted on card stock.  As I went back in time, I found myself using both the front and the back of each piece of card stock, rather than two different colors for each, for economy and also because they seemed fitting anyway.  I have been putting a single year in each album up till now, but I will start doubling years and maybe more as I go back, because I have fewer older photos and later they will all be smaller photos.  One sad realization was that Trip and I are missing photos for our entire early relationship.  We first met in the summer and had moved in with each other within 6 months.  Our first apartment was in New York City!  I managed to use one roll of film twice - double exposing all of it.  I don’t know what was on the photos besides one really sweet picture of my cat Robin and Trip’s iguana Dawa snuggled together on the top of a 6 foot tall book case, which we were barely able to make out in the pictures we had developed.  I also was not in the habit of documenting things as I am now, so I took pictures far less frequently.  So that chapter is missing from my photo albums.  It jumps from our first Christmas together (just two months after we started dating) to a party in the spring, then we are off on our move to Boulder, CO in the next set of pictures!
I will make a later post about my scrapbooking process, I will have to take pictures of it, and it will feature years 1997 & 1998.