tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61746880400891721722024-02-20T23:51:50.041-08:00GenealogyRamblesI always wanted to be Sherlock Holmes. Best I can pull off is Nancy Drew.... But I love following clues, analyzing evidence, and piecing things together! And I love history, especially the whos, hows, and whys! Genealogy, family history, was a natural for me.... My hobby and passion for decades now. What am I doing here? No idea. Topics and focus may veer wildly, depending on the moment's whim. But hopefully, just like the hunt for the people and times that came before me, this will be fun!Linda Schreiberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11858967138913513166noreply@blogger.comBlogger13125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6174688040089172172.post-42715834379897573512018-06-15T18:47:00.000-07:002018-06-15T18:47:22.414-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD1MX3KlibkCH5kVa2DuEelK3jEvgteKxcfQ3YXL9L7cU6N7Y5YJ1nowXQ-k6Jbs8DwG0C3QEUhaF7uTxi349ixQc1DPyzdfpOQE8ZuMCN3Xk3d5YEQ9WgLjNRb_X0HgqFqTulUbkhVhU/s1600/Just+open+the+door.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD1MX3KlibkCH5kVa2DuEelK3jEvgteKxcfQ3YXL9L7cU6N7Y5YJ1nowXQ-k6Jbs8DwG0C3QEUhaF7uTxi349ixQc1DPyzdfpOQE8ZuMCN3Xk3d5YEQ9WgLjNRb_X0HgqFqTulUbkhVhU/s320/Just+open+the+door.jpeg" width="320" /></a><span style="background-color: #f6f7f9; color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">Well, it's time.... I need to open the door on all my old memories, and actually start writing my own story for my descendants.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #f6f7f9; color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">Scary prospect....</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #f6f7f9; color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: #f6f7f9; color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">I can't just put in the bare facts and the pretty, pleasant things.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #f6f7f9; color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><br />I need to boil down, fess up, and be real. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: #f6f7f9; color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">The hard times, and the good, </span><br />
<span style="background-color: #f6f7f9; color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">The successes and the screw-ups. </span><span style="background-color: #f6f7f9; color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><br />The fun stories, and the grief.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #f6f7f9; color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: #f6f7f9; color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><br />All the things I want to know about my ancestors. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: #f6f7f9; color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">Because, like it or not, I am now an ancestor!</span>Linda Schreiberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11858967138913513166noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6174688040089172172.post-84925897706065127702017-01-15T13:26:00.000-08:002017-01-16T15:59:41.013-08:00When Initials Were Too Cool!!! [cuss]<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbgg99LsWrxsnXEAZjhgqIXL6vT4KqP5bkBen2pCRGFUuJPQV9V4vGqxlHNptdAsTQDcvq3MGGGeJ1Mj8k8BrYTUIDETvJ2QYDnN32ZMfsFRGh0gcwDBX2EPM7qD3t75cH5nceX0puUFo/s1600/RANT.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbgg99LsWrxsnXEAZjhgqIXL6vT4KqP5bkBen2pCRGFUuJPQV9V4vGqxlHNptdAsTQDcvq3MGGGeJ1Mj8k8BrYTUIDETvJ2QYDnN32ZMfsFRGh0gcwDBX2EPM7qD3t75cH5nceX0puUFo/s320/RANT.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Once upon a time, there were too many Hoovers.<br />
They were all in Guthrie, OK. And they all went by initials. It was the style. But I think they planned to do that, just to drive me crazy!!!<br />
<br />
It worked!<br />
<br />
Ok, back to the beginning....<br />
<br />
1. Great grandfather Silas Hoover had 11 siblings. 6 of whom were brothers:<br />
David W. Hoover, James K Polk Hoover,<br />
Jesse D. Hoover, Andrew Jonce Hoover,<br />
Franklin Hoover, and Jacob Judge Hoover.<br />
<br />
2. There were two relevant livery stables in Guthrie. One was owned by GGrandfather Silas, on his own. It was a decent small business. He had other non-livery properties, as I found out later.The other Hoover livery went under a few names over the years: "Cammack Barn" bought by Hoovers, Hoover Bros Livery, etc. It became much larger, with shifting principle people. Sometimes the principle was AJ, sometimes DW, etc.<br />
<br />
3. The shifting principles in Hoover Bros were AJ, DW, and JD Hoover..... You would think that I could figure that those were Silas brothers. The problem was that there were other Hoovers in the neighborhood from other places. With other sons. And some of the initials matched, although the names didn't. Were those initials 'David W' or 'Daniel Something'? 'Jesse D' or 'James Something'? All common names in Hoover lines, and there in Guthrie.<br />
<br />
Were the owners of the larger, more flamboyant livery actually Silas' brothers?<br />
Took many years, and a chance find to confirm this.<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
Yes, they were all brothers. Wahoo!<br />
<br />
As for the other brothers, 'JKP Hoover' stayed in Webster County MO and died there. 'JJ Hoover' moved to Wright County MO and became a stockyard owner. Franklin left in search of either distance or fortune, I presume. I think I have found his death certificate in Colorado.<br />
<br />
'AJ' eventually got out of the livery business and got into the saloon trade.<br />
<br />
'JD's obit appears below, from FindAGrave.<br />
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;">Are the initials making you crazy, too?!?</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #dcd0cf; font-family: "verdana" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">THE OKLAHOMAN: 10/11/1931 – Sun – Colorful Figure of Early Days Is Dead</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #dcd0cf; font-family: "verdana" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Guthrie, Oct. 10 – Jess D. Hoover, 67 years old, whose lemon colored coach and team of bays conveyed former territorial and state officials about this city, the former state capital, died here Saturday. Funeral services will be held Sunday.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #dcd0cf; font-family: "verdana" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Since 1889 Hoover was proprietor of a livery stable, which in territorial days was one of the best known in the southwest.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #dcd0cf; font-family: "verdana" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">He was known to virtually every state and territorial administrator. Among his friends were Governor Murray, former Gov. Henry S. Johnston; all of the territorial governors; United States Senators Elmer Thomas and T.P. Gore; Scott Ferris, Democratic national committeeman for Oklahoma.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #dcd0cf; font-family: "verdana" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Hoover, who claimed to be a distant relative of President Hoover, also was a horse and stock trader.</span><br />
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Oh, and a PS: If we are related to President Hoover, it is *way back*, and *very distant*.<br />
As of the 1700s in North Carolina, there is no known connection. Both families were in the same huge county at the time. But, maybe, their fathers were some type of cousin? Or not....<br />
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<br />Linda Schreiberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11858967138913513166noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6174688040089172172.post-84296859877123614292017-01-15T11:51:00.002-08:002019-03-21T15:26:59.903-07:00What Matters Is The Stories!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3dnZk9kfq3rRtwOiJnLpzdIQlkbNFBH-R46oYMGkW0RYdLDSFc85GAuE2f4VMVaXDPCuq9yGIFafgSZWifrlNnbP5y-A_ydGtsAB9l9xpM8sxsSnC_lNxglEPAzkPpucBGZw6EAQREFM/s1600/strikeamatch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3dnZk9kfq3rRtwOiJnLpzdIQlkbNFBH-R46oYMGkW0RYdLDSFc85GAuE2f4VMVaXDPCuq9yGIFafgSZWifrlNnbP5y-A_ydGtsAB9l9xpM8sxsSnC_lNxglEPAzkPpucBGZw6EAQREFM/s320/strikeamatch.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;">"What matters is the Stories!"</span> has become my new mantra.<br />
<br />
And pictures, of course. Those are visual stories that also bring sparks of life to those endless names and dates in our family trees.<br />
<br />
I have come to the conclusion that, no matter how much I want to *do everything*, that's not going to happen in this lifetime.<br />
<br />
Time to prioritize. Time to focus on passing along the pieces that bring life and depth to these people. And that are *not* easily available at Ancestry or FamilySearch where I put all those names and dates.<br />
<br />
I've been working on my adoptive lines for 30+ years. Oh, that tree is so far from perfect that it's a bit embarrassing.... I am so much better at hunting sources than I am at entering them. Ditto newspaper articles and other finds. But I have found so many stories, and photos!<br />
And I've corresponded with distant cousins who had their own stories to add and photos to share.<br />
I have pieces of information that, together, explain why an ancestor did something.<br />
That last is a big kind of story!<br />
And I have so many relatives that I want to share all this with!<br />
<br />
Then my maternal half-sister found me, and DNA testing became possible, and I have been *So Focused* on tracking down our biological lines, and biological fathers.... That's mostly where I need to be. We both have kids, grandkids, a great-grand. For the family history of *them*, our DNA and what we can find there is the key to their history!<br />
<br />
So I have to be *done* with researching my adoptive lines. But I am far from done with wanting to bring those real people to life! I also know that, as much as I will try to get many of those pieces into FamilySearch Memories, I will not get to them all. Not even close.<br />
<br />
One cousin said to me that she got a pedigree chart years back from someone else, but once she had got beyond the people she knew, it was all names and dates....<br />
That's the reality, and it is where things often just stop.<br />
<br />
It's past time to get these things written out, and sent to cousins. And printed out and mailed to those that are not on the net.<br />
<br />
If all they do is stick the stories in their box with family photos, that will be far better than nothing. And *nothing* is where things stand now.<br />
<br />Linda Schreiberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11858967138913513166noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6174688040089172172.post-43305025896675202682016-12-28T15:00:00.002-08:002016-12-28T15:00:41.602-08:00Memories Of My Brother, Part 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbglpkNYy8oB4Q8mwVnKB8emN239IxUEGDZQjmE7mmAAl3duz2-Jaam-rlDvpfoxeYI9ha6Zlh_BTVsH9HYtDPK3XpxG-cZZuD-ULS3BJdndDy54C_cdaX7ykRo5IEJacIaKPI14DMfuc/s1600/heart+of+candles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbglpkNYy8oB4Q8mwVnKB8emN239IxUEGDZQjmE7mmAAl3duz2-Jaam-rlDvpfoxeYI9ha6Zlh_BTVsH9HYtDPK3XpxG-cZZuD-ULS3BJdndDy54C_cdaX7ykRo5IEJacIaKPI14DMfuc/s320/heart+of+candles.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I spoke of my brother Jim's death a couple of days ago, and included a few memories of him, of the times when we were growing up and when we were grown.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="font-size: large;">But at those times when family is talking about death and loss, and funeral arrangements, these talks also bring up so many memories, in every family member, about the person they all lost. And so often, those memories, as they all are shared and pulled together, start to bring more life, and color, and depth, to the unique person we all loved, and knew only facets of.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Sometimes those shared memories remind us of things we can't believe we had forgotten! Sometimes the memories one person holds are memories that only they have, of times spent with the person now gone. The rest of us were not there to see. And when those are shared, it is a great gift!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Our cousin WendiBeth shared one of each of those kinds of memories with me, just in Facebook chat. She said she didn't mind if I shared them, and I want to. They are both priceless.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The "I can't believe I forgot about that!" memory is quick, and I'll do that first. The second, the "I wasn't there to see that" memory is so priceless that I'm saving that for last. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I can't believe I forgot about his little-kid fascination with turning furniture upside down! [Guffaws and giggles!!!]<br />Chairs, ottomans, if he could manage to flip it over, or even onto it's side, he was so extremely toddler-proud!<br />Mom would just wait until he went to bed, and would right things again. In my early elementary years, I even helped sometimes with the fix. But I had forgotten....<br /><br />WendiBeth's second memory, the one that only she and her Mom, now gone, were there for is so priceless that I am just quoting her with her permission:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #4b4f56; font-size: large;">"He
came to stay with us in Denver once. He came the day we were in the
middle of a move to a new apartment. With picking him up at the bus
station and then having to take time for a couple of trips back to
find his lost luggage, our move was completed at about 12:30 AM and
Mama and I had to be at work the next morning so unpacking was out of
the question. </span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #4b4f56; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #4b4f56; font-size: large;">We left Jim the next morning with instructions to
"Please don't stress over this... We will get it all sorted out
when we get home." Well...we came home and everything was
unpacked and organized, he had found a tablecloth and ironed it and
put it on the dining room table. He also took a walk in a nearby field
and picked wildflowers, brought them home and arranged them in a vase
on the table. He had cooked dinner AND baked brownies for dessert!!!! </span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #4b4f56; font-size: large;">I could use him now!"</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>Linda Schreiberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11858967138913513166noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6174688040089172172.post-90205915410090004262016-12-26T12:38:00.000-08:002016-12-28T15:13:08.727-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0K54AmhOvpVaLHaXAXy-ePlYq5sn1dz9l0VGyXurKA0MvDrZGtaL1Nq2FSznW7n9rwlZRs5cHIPWa3GtXNXuZXoIJtuaf_G7fcaP4dxBkRirlUAFJvv0A4sHFmmwKViTJKtKo1CIMqcg/s1600/siblings.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0K54AmhOvpVaLHaXAXy-ePlYq5sn1dz9l0VGyXurKA0MvDrZGtaL1Nq2FSznW7n9rwlZRs5cHIPWa3GtXNXuZXoIJtuaf_G7fcaP4dxBkRirlUAFJvv0A4sHFmmwKViTJKtKo1CIMqcg/s320/siblings.PNG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">My brother has left this world.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Maybe on the 24th, or late on the 23rd, or early on the 25th....</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The kind neighbor who hadn't seen him helped to find him.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">James Lewis Peck. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The genealogist in me says "8 Feb 1955 - abt 24 Dec 2016". </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The sister in me says "What a funny, complicated, caring, struggling, warm yet frustrating brother he was". </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">So many memories....</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">We have been pretty much out of contact for... a long, long time.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Not because of any rift. Just because of a great many years of 'drift'. We have both been self-involved and have been working to get through life day by day, in different states. And in those day-by-day distractions and struggles the years quickly can get away from us.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I was the eldest, and he was my first baby brother. I was about 4 when he was born. We were both adopted as babies by a wonderful couple, Lewis Peck and Martha Hoover. And a bit more than a year later, Lew and Martha had our youngest brother, John.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Jim's birth mother had been prescribed methamphetamines for facial neuralgia back in the day when they had little knowledge of that. So this was in his system, in utero, and he was born into a hell of cold-turkey withdrawal as a newborn. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">But Lew and Martha adopted him anyway, knowing that there could be impossible-to-define damage. There was indeed brain damage that resulted in cognitive and behavioral problems. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">They did everything they could to get the best advice and help over the years, and they managed to give him a decent, pretty high-functioning life. They truly loved him. They loved us all. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I was afraid I had killed him when he was a toddler! We used to play 'timber!!!!!!' in the huge dog enclosure with a 6 ft fence post we could barely hoist up. And he dodged the wrong way.... Luckily, he had a thick skull. Lots of blood in the bathtub, but our outwardly calm mom and some stitches fixed it.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">When he was a preteen, we moved to a new house, and the kids got to pick the colors for their room. He chose orange and green. It looked like he was living inside a pumpkin, but he loved it!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">When I was a single mom in the 1970's recession, and badly needed a job, he introduced me to a friend of his who was hiring, and I became the straight manager of a neighborhood gay bar. Friendly place. Fish fries with hush puppies on Friday evenings. Limited but tasty lunch menu. And a ton of nice people. He had some great friends. Because he was a good friend....</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">He had a good heart. He always had a good heart.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I hope Mom and Dad were there to hug you when you </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">arrived, Jim.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I'll be looking for you when I do.</span></div>
Linda Schreiberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11858967138913513166noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6174688040089172172.post-72769078502452994782015-04-25T17:27:00.000-07:002015-04-25T17:29:36.957-07:00One Of My Favorite Pictures!<img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-zT9vwPDeIx0/VTwnVx07wHI/AAAAAAAAAXg/XMvZdNIO-A0/w363-h492-no/107376322645135.jpg" /><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 14.5600004196167px;">I was adopted shortly after birth, and knew nothing about my biological mother until I was in my 40s, when a half sister tracked me down. She had also been adopted out. We have been busy since then, researching the family.</span><br style="background-color: white; line-height: 14.5600004196167px;" /><br style="background-color: white; line-height: 14.5600004196167px;" /><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 14.5600004196167px;">The blond toddler on the arm of the chair is my mother. The adults, my grandparents. The baby, my Aunt Marjorie.</span><br style="background-color: white; line-height: 14.5600004196167px;" /><br style="background-color: white; line-height: 14.5600004196167px;" /><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 14.5600004196167px;">My mother Rose was a complicated woman with a fascinating life. She was born in Bangkok. Her parents and grandparents, and some extended family, were missionaries there. They were caught up at the beginning of World War II, and were interned in a prison camp when she was around 12 years old.</span><br style="background-color: white; line-height: 14.5600004196167px;" /><br style="background-color: white; line-height: 14.5600004196167px;" /><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 14.5600004196167px;">After they were returned home to the US, more complications.... But she eventually found a kind man who loved her, and raised five wonderful children with him. Not counting my sister and myself, of course. But she did right by us, too....</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 14.5600004196167px;">Amazing to find an early picture of my biological mother! And she looks so much like I did at that age. And so much like my daughter did then. One of my favorite pictures, for sure.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 14.5600004196167px;"><br /></span></span>Linda Schreiberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11858967138913513166noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6174688040089172172.post-91995706355254779042015-01-31T15:24:00.000-08:002015-01-31T15:30:41.436-08:00Seems Like Such A SMALL Thing....I found my mother in the 1938 city directory for Cleveland today.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIdNxmnDt5WeMXb95jgvmbY5nAUOhUFkMe4gm-WP8nS1k6IO26atc3kdbqnFIEehfLh_gP2NGXICQ6xF8VSAtI03kDwXteMCzt_cfmYiEfPGLBty1TrIXWATTScMM0Qmasoo04hEtqa80/s1600/Martha+Closeup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIdNxmnDt5WeMXb95jgvmbY5nAUOhUFkMe4gm-WP8nS1k6IO26atc3kdbqnFIEehfLh_gP2NGXICQ6xF8VSAtI03kDwXteMCzt_cfmYiEfPGLBty1TrIXWATTScMM0Qmasoo04hEtqa80/s1600/Martha+Closeup.jpg" /></a></div>
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Mrs. Martha J. Peck, clerk, Halle Bros Co. residence 1982 W 93rd St, Cleveland, Ohio<br />
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Such a little thing. But it felt like a tiny miracle. This is a such an incredible clue for figuring out a long-standing mystery about my own parents. A mystery about a series of things I should have asked them about, long before they were gone. But that didn't happen. Mea culpa.<br />
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In the 1937 directory (complied in 1936) both Lewis Robert Peck and Martha Jane Hoover were living with their parents. In May of 1937, they married. I had searched the 1938 directory (compiled in 1937) before. Cataloging all the related people. And could not find Lewis. I somehow overlooked this one entry for Martha..... [Thanks, Genealogy Do-Over]. <br />
I had assumed I would find them together. Not so.<br />
Everything I had found before was that they married in 1937, and then vanished.....<br />
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I knew that Lewis worked in the WPA at some point. Didn't know if was a more local project or a more distant one. <br />
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I knew that Martha worked at Halle Bros. (a big department store) as a file clerk. Earned $5 a week, a really good wage for the time. That she had one work dress, and each evening, she would wash out her dress in the sink and iron it for the next day.<br />
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In the 'people' portion of the directory, she was listed at that address. When I went back to the 'street address' portion of the directory, there were two people listed at that address, neither of them her. And I have searched through everyone on that street. Nothing. So I feel safe to assume that she was boarding, or renting a room, rather than living in an apartment.<br />
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This also tells me that Lewis' WPA project was not local. Whether his work was in a different part of the same state, of somewhere else in the country, they were not together. <br />
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Within months of their marriage, they were separated because of the Depression.... <br />
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But they were still together, for decades, and are just as 'disappeared' in 1940 and after. <br />
One breadcrumb at a time is just fine!<br />
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Moving on....Linda Schreiberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11858967138913513166noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6174688040089172172.post-14448695230395222732015-01-20T13:10:00.000-08:002015-01-20T13:20:07.988-08:00WAHOO!!! Breaking out the Champagne!<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've been doing the Do-Over pretty much all-in. But in addition to the craziness of figuring out the priorities and protocols, the plans and methodologies, and precisely how things should be handled, and setting up the new tree, I had another<b> little sideline project</b> I had been working on since before Christmas....</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It had to do with my <b>computer files EVERYWHERE</b>! My big elephant in the room. Well, make that MANY rooms. A great many rooms.... Rooms with closets, painted-over cupboards, hidden passageways. And content hidden in every little corner.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I really felt that I had to get them all gathered together, and at least roughly organized, so<b> I knew what I had</b>. A large number of the "documents that are expensive or very difficult to replace", both legal and important to pull for the Do-Over, were hiding in there. Somewhere in there. "I know I have that...." And for everything not in that category, I would at least know where the stuff was so I could set it aside!</span></div>
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In the past, I have been only marginally bad at just adding tree branches from others' trees. But I have been RABID about going on free-form searches, and gathering bits, saved in "to be sorted" files, "lots of Carricks" files, "analyze these" files, "Wow Peck Docs" files. Pick any dumping-ground filename. I've probably used it.</div>
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Been doing this for decades.... Oh, my....</div>
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So I have been finding and moving all these from wherever they are, and putting them in Evernote, well-sorted, titled, and tagged, so I can find them. (What a concept!)</div>
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A friend got the content from two old hard drives onto a flash drive, and the content in those two old drives was gradually moved out and handled. I have dug into the current computer, and gathered up everything, from everywhere, and ditto.</div>
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Since just before Christmas, I have found, moved, and at least sort of organized <b>1.6 GB</b> of old files and finds!!! And today, just this afternoon, I DELETED both the *Big Sort Job* folder and the *Temp Import File* folder in Evernote. They were EMPTY!</div>
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Oh, my... That felt good! Understatement....</div>
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So now,<b> I can find</b> the image of the register for my parents' marriage. And the 1930 and 1920 census images for them, and aunts and uncles and grandparents, that I cannot afford now. And newspaper articles about my great-uncles that I cannot afford now. And other such document images as I move along.</div>
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And as I move along, I will fill out the research log as I look for a specific item for a person, but then I will STOP, and check my own Evernote for that first. I may have 3 copies already there! </div>
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Linda Schreiberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11858967138913513166noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6174688040089172172.post-75208046528825299642015-01-17T12:05:00.002-08:002015-02-02T13:26:41.706-08:00Bad News and Good News - How Little I Knew!!<b>Bad News -</b><br />
I fell down a rabbit hole early this morning. I've been lost for many, many hours....<br />
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<b>Good News -</b><br />
It was not a random search for a maybe-gggrandfather. It was a new-to-me, very rich, single-site, newspaper search for my two paternal Aunts. (They are in my current GDO working group.) <br />
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<b>Bad News -</b><br />
I *<b>did not*</b> open my research log first.... Just was reminded of the site, and went there. Mea Culpa. (First morning of a short vacation, and wasn't in 'work mode' yet. Not a good excuse, but a reason.) <br />
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<b>Good News -</b><br />
I kept notes on all search terms and will be hitting the research log heavily in just a moment. Really!<br />
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<b>Bad News -</b><br />
Although I got them all into Evernote, I quit fully tagging them at about hour 2.... But I <b>did</b> keep single, consistent tags for each aunt, and titled the notes properly, so I can easily go tag them more completely. And I noted the source site on each note. Off to tag them properly. Right after I hit the research log....<br />
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<b>Good News - </b><br />
I have <b>certainly</b> done an <b>exhaustive search</b> of that site! One pass rule....<br />
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<b>The Really Good News -</b><br />
How little I knew!! And how <b>many things I thought I knew</b> were wrong or skewed! And what finds!! Including photos from the 1930s and the 1960s. And, by the way, if you want to find newspaper mentions of someone, reach back in time and talk them into being a school teacher. Readers always wanted to see their kids' names in print, so "school news" was a big thing. And the teachers came along with that. Yay!<br />
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<b>And the Good-Bad News -</b><br />
Now I have to do the work of filling out the research logs and finishing the tagging process. I'll source and cite when I start entering, but the first two need to be done today.<br />
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<b>Thanks, http://www.fultonhistory.com/Fulton.html !</b><br />
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My Aunt Esther (Peck) Brooks, the school teacher. (35 various articles, 4 photos, and <b>many </b>corrections and additions to what I thought I knew....<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0DQovDg7c_Y4fRTW5Uhz23zI4TAtSpNoaraev3z-lU8N0KEsf-SEVKX5TUkEYcrgwygSA62ondG8xC9K5ZtE9CaczVigQyogLj8qAlQDvz-KoYtqnxdcPt5_oPnuF2RXhD_JmXEyUhcg/s1600/Aunt+Ruth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0DQovDg7c_Y4fRTW5Uhz23zI4TAtSpNoaraev3z-lU8N0KEsf-SEVKX5TUkEYcrgwygSA62ondG8xC9K5ZtE9CaczVigQyogLj8qAlQDvz-KoYtqnxdcPt5_oPnuF2RXhD_JmXEyUhcg/s1600/Aunt+Ruth.jpg" height="320" width="268" /></a></div>
And my Aunt Ruth (Peck) Zerbst. (Several articles, 1 photo and a lot more learned beyond what I thought I knew.)Linda Schreiberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11858967138913513166noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6174688040089172172.post-49626048310047704932015-01-11T11:19:00.000-08:002015-01-11T11:27:43.865-08:00Genealogy Do-Over - Protocols Draft<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOm-5svwVTSbRlHvliThH7j64gXo1Zaw_q806y8DMsTsd0BFqdjOv3ZJcu3OBlOCWRP_0Mpjdy3lxnoBPQAUsuUG7G740ksqG-eu4fDJoz6RSTcEZqn-iFY3zZkidR84CgL7rbPt4uqXw/s1600/red-do-over-button+-+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOm-5svwVTSbRlHvliThH7j64gXo1Zaw_q806y8DMsTsd0BFqdjOv3ZJcu3OBlOCWRP_0Mpjdy3lxnoBPQAUsuUG7G740ksqG-eu4fDJoz6RSTcEZqn-iFY3zZkidR84CgL7rbPt4uqXw/s1600/red-do-over-button+-+small.jpg" height="238" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">Well, I have finally got the most important protocols for my Genealogy Do-Over roughed out this morning (and I do mean rough...). I have to be missing some important things. What are those? Advice?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">This is just the primary things, and then also my Evernote plan. I am working on things specific to my gen-program use, too, but those aren't ready for 'peer review'.... </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">(RM is RootsMagic. EN is Evernote)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">I will follow the </span><b style="font-family: Arial; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">Genealogical Proof Standard</b><span style="font-family: Arial; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">:</span><br />
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<li>Perform a reasonably exhaustive search</li>
<li>Create complete and accurate source citations</li>
<li>Analyze and correlate all of the collected information</li>
<li>Resolve any conflicting evidence</li>
<li>Create a soundly reasoned, coherently written conclusion</li>
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I will go <b>slowly</b>! </div>
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I will start with <b>myself</b>, including facts, sources, and the beginning of a continuing narrative.</div>
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I will put in <b>three generations</b> of bare-bones names, birth and death dates, so that events can be shared <span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">in</span><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"> </span><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">RM as I work from each source. I will only add another generation if the new source warrants it, and </span><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">sharing events needs to happen.</span></div>
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I will keep the relatively new and simple <b>file structure</b> I have, for now, already stored in DropBox. To-Do: <span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">I will begin my do-over work, however, by moving out the sparse content currently filed there into EN, </span><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">since many of those pieces were not handled properly. Things move into the structure when they </span><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">are done right!</span></div>
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I will <b>start with the source:</b></div>
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<li>I will save each source digitally, if at all possible.</li>
<li>I will source each document correctly and completely, using the Evidence Explained styles (ref."EE") in RM, including quality, and any comments. I will also add transcriptions in citation details unless the digital source is clear, or if it is otherwise advisable.</li>
<li>I will attach the image of the source/citation to the source media in RM.</li>
<li>I will retrieve every detail from that source, with the help of Evidentia in most cases, and fully analyze those details.</li>
<li>I will then create events in RM for the individuals involved in that source, so that the source media item can be tagged to them at the event level, not just the person level.</li>
<li>For any problem person (someone with significant conflicting information, or a brick wall), I will use Evidentia for ALL sources that mention them, or that might have possible implications for them.</li>
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I will <b>use the research log</b> in RM. </div>
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<li>I will approach the research efforts as "research sessions", beginning with the log entry. </li>
<li>If I begin to follow a new lead, I will stop, complete the log entry for the first goal, and set up the new lead as a new goal in the log. </li>
<li>If I stumble across information about a person not in the original goal, I will stop, and set up a research log entry for that person, detailing what was found.</li>
<li>I will be complete in the entries of what I want to find, where I look, what <b>search terms</b> I tried, and the results of the search, positive or negative.</li>
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In research and analysis I will work on the <b>FANs</b> (friends, associates, neighbors) as carefully as I do on the primaries. </div>
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<b>Evernote</b> will be a set of <b>working files</b>, not the primary genealogy storage system, although all notes will remain there for later access. The HUGE number of images and documents I am moving into Evernote from all over my computer and a couple of old hard drives is being handled exclusively through tags, as will be future notes. <span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">The Evernote-use protocols here are at the gather-up-and-analyze-for-a-person end of things.</span></div>
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I will use a subnotebook under the Genealogy notebook for each person currently being worked on. I am calling that subnotebook a "Person Page". </div>
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Long before I approach the notebook limit, the earliest person pages will have been exhaustively searched, and fully entered into RM and the digital file structure. Their individual person pages will no longer be needed. From their person page, I will select all the notes there, and move them into an umbrella notebook under Genealogy: Paternal, Maternal, Biological subnotebooks. I can then delete their person page. All the notes will still be searchable, but notebook capacity will be available for new people. </div>
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Any newly found notes on people who no longer have an active person page will be placed in a single subnotebook in the Genealogy notebook called "New Finds To Analyze". </div>
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Each <b>Person Page</b> will have a few <b>notes pinned to the top</b> using serial **. </div>
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<b> </b>Notes to be pinned to the top of each person page include:</div>
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<li>Copy of the <b>Individual Summary Report</b> from RM, renewed as it develops, for easy reference.</li>
<li><b>Source Checklist</b> for the time period relevant for the person. Complete the full template, and place on current person pages, eliminating irrelevant items.</li>
<li><b>To-Do List</b> for that person. </li>
<li>A <b>'Notes'</b> note, for any thoughts, any developing hypotheses, quick remembrances, etc. The one note may become several: 'Notes-Profession', Notes - Residence', etc.</li>
<li>All notes in EN relevant to that person will be gathered up via search and tags, and moved to that person page. </li>
<li>All other notes can sort within the person page as they happen to, and will be found with tags or search.</li>
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Linda Schreiberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11858967138913513166noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6174688040089172172.post-3072441121698121312014-02-02T17:10:00.002-08:002014-02-02T18:39:43.327-08:0052 Shared Memories - I Was Raised By A Cocker Spaniel And An Apple Tree!Well, only until I was about 6, and only in the out of doors. Susie, the black Cocker Spaniel, would stay close, and keep a very motherly eye on me. [And mom kept an eagle-eye presence through the window or from the porch unbeknownst to me.] I felt *FREE* to explore, and I did! Everywhere!<br />
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Truly wish I had a picture of all this beyond the one in my head.... <br />
We had an old farmhouse fronting the road, and behind that was an old apple orchard. There was a small barn and a large vegetable garden.<b> </b>Behind the orchard was a polliwog pond, and a very enticing wild-strawberry-poison-ivy patch. And my mom's huge bed of gorgeous bearded iris. Across the little side-lane was much of an acre of abandoned land mostly taken over by black raspberries.<br />
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I also had *my very own apple tree*. [Part of the whole orchard, then. Long gone, now. Doesn't matter. It's *MY TREE* still!] It was in the row 40 ft from the back porch. But it felt like it was my very own hidden world.... It had a thick, low, horizontal branch just clamber-up-able for a little kid. And I would crawl along it, and sit out at the end, hidden among the leaves and apples. Introvert heaven!! Usually crawled out there with a book in my hand. <br />
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So many memories.... My dad, on the weekend, with the long-poled apple-picker getting winesaps, and macintoshes, and romes, and mom would can applesauce. Learning to ride a bike, at 6, on a 24" balloon tire adult bike on a gravel driveway. [ow, but it worked]. Sneaking out to the veggie garden, and eating green peppers like apples. [my lips puffed, and mom always knew]. Managing to hoist up an 8ft metal fence pole to let it drop, and holler "TIMBER"! It was about the 20th time I did this when my younger brother's head got in the way.... Lots of blood in the bathtub, but not too much damage. [Thanks, mom.]<br />
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Once a year, dad would take the little tractor out of the little barn and clear a path into the black raspberries across the lane so that we could go picking. It was a yearly tradition from the time I could toddle. When I was six, Susie, my outdoor mother, disappeared. She was not a youngster, and her blond daughter, Sally, was already a grownup. We looked.... But dad finally said that she probably had gone off because it was her time. My first experience with death. Always figured that she had wandered down that cleared path into the raspberries, <br />
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The following year, we moved away. My tree was still there. More than half a century later, both the house and the tree seem to be gone. Things change. That 's the one sure things we have in life. Things change.<br />
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But I must admit that when I die, in addition to all the people I hope to meet up with, I wouldn't mind having a little time sitting my very own, very special apple tree, with a book, and with a small black dog quietly looking up at me.<br />
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<br />Linda Schreiberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11858967138913513166noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6174688040089172172.post-18785712474375895952014-01-26T15:39:00.000-08:002014-01-26T15:50:39.481-08:00The Joy Of Sense-Memories!Marian Pierre-Louis posted about the many things, large and small that can <a href="http://rootsandrambles.blogspot.com/2014/01/what-triggers-your-connection-to-family.html">trigger memories of family. </a><br />
A few of my own old sense-memories did pop into my mind when I read the article. That was wonderful!<br />
Jotted down a few notes, web-clipped her post link, and moved on....<br />
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But over some time, I now find that it is as if some part of my brain has been working, in the background, unlocking more of those for me, and flashing them up at me when I am relaxed and receptive. I think that Marian's post acted as the <b>yeast</b> my old memories needed. And so many of those memories are connected to senses, not censuses, or names and dates.<br />
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And, best of all, each of those individual sense-memories seem to be the key to accessing an entire cascade of connected memories! So many details coming back to me after having been buried deep in a old box in my dusty, musty, over-busy brain-archive. Mental 'pictures' are something my brain has never done well. No images. No photos. No sketches. But I am getting some through these sense-memory triggers!<br />
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Just one example: <br />
<b>Brown</b> bread and <b>real</b> butter. Early taste memory. That's my maternal grandma, and, regardless of the rest of the great meal, it was my great childhood lust. [Still invest in real bread and real butter, even if I have to short the rent a bit....]<br />
Led to how the long folding table was set up in the tiny living space when we came to dinner in the early 60s. Led to the details of the rest of the little winterized cottage that was their home. Led to the place she cooked the great meal on the winterized 'screen porch'. And mental pictures of all, for once.... Yeehah! <br />
Led to the back yard, and other memories there. Led to the memory of how far we walked to the lake, and memory of the cottage next door. Led to the memory that the place the grandparents lived was once owned by my father's family, and that his mother's cousin owned that cottage next door. <br />
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Cascades of memories, linked to the sense-memories! The mere mention of an elderberry bush, the scent of lily of the valley, the sound of particular really old songs, each have been popping up occasionally, and letting loose avalanches of related memories for different families, and people and times.<br />
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My deeper brain seems to be working hard, without getting in my way from day to day, and pulling up sense-related keystones of memory. I really like this.....<br />
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<br />Linda Schreiberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11858967138913513166noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6174688040089172172.post-27710481889549668442014-01-12T16:32:00.000-08:002015-05-23T17:34:59.200-07:0052 Ancestors: Esther B. PeckAh, my wonderful Aunt Esther.... When I was growing up, I always wished that she lived next door, rather than a couple of hundred miles away. The times when we went to visit for a week or so were heaven for me. She was a walking, talking smile, and she was interested in everything! She had married a lovely, gentle 'bear' of a man named Clifford Brooks. I was a little bit in love with him when I was 10....<br />
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Esther was born and raised in Cleveland, Ohio, and Cliff was originally from western New York. He was in sales, and I have always assumed that his travels were how he met Esther, but that is just a guess. They were married in Cleveland three days before Christmas in 1936. <br />
*UPDATE* -- She was a school teacher in his area of western NY, and they met there. I love newspapers....<br />
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When I was old enough to know them, in the 50s-60s, they were well settled in Chenango Forks, NY, about 50 miles east of where Cliff was born. They had a wonderful property, the ultimate dream of an "always outdoors" kid like me. <br />
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Esther was a high school English teacher (And, yes, got lots of ribbing about "Our Miss Brooks". Google it....) and she loved words, like I did. At breakfast, in the nook, with the view of the hills behind the house, we always had crossword puzzles with our English muffins. She was also a wonderful watercolor artist. Beautiful, subtle landscapes and nature studies. I truly wish that I had a few of her pieces now. <br />
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Then Uncle Cliff would go to the barn and get out the tractor, and let me "drive" (on his lap, with his hand 2 inches from the wheel, and his foot hovering over the brake) up the hill and across the pasture to the spring-fed pond. First place I got my toes in muck to go swimming. And, as usual for me, I came back to the house with a couple of 'really cool' specimens of the slithering, slimy sort. And Aunt Esther would be interested in those, too! Amazing....<br />
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Esther was always willing to talk to us kids, was always fascinating to listen to, and she always listened back. Cliff was always there for us, always willing to help in our 'adventures', and always patient with foibles and minor mischief.<br />
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If they had had any children, I would love to meet them. I suspect that they would also be marvelous people. But there were no children born to them. There were some 'children', however. A great many years later, when Esther was in an assisted-living apartment many miles from where she had taught, living with her sister Ruth, she still received occasional letters from a couple of her 'kids' - people she had taught in English classes, years before, in Chenango Forks. She apparently stuck in their minds, and was lodged in their hearts, too. I understand why.<br />
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In memory of, and with gratitude to:<br />
Esther Bertis Peck, b 1910, Cleveland, Cuyahoga, Ohio, dau of Remington Peck and Mable Ruby Dowd. (Esther was my father's older sister.)<br />
Clifford Brooks, b 1909, Mecklenburg, Schuyler, New York, son of John Brooks and Mary Kilmer<br />
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<br />Linda Schreiberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11858967138913513166noreply@blogger.com0