Babunia

Antonia Chicanowicz, a Polish woman, was born in Stamstwiska, Vilna, Poland, a Russian Federation in 1894.  From 1795 to 1918 the area was under the Imperial Russian Rule and it had a strong grip on the Polish people.  They were not allowed to speak Polish on the streets and the stores could only post signs in the Russian language. 

 

Russia during this time was made up of Lithuanians, Jews and Pols.  All three were striving for cultural domination. The languages spoken were Yiddish, Polish, and Lithuanian.  The man she would eventually marry, John Kopcych, was also born in Vilna, Poland in 1892 and immigrated to America in 1910, at the age of 18, due to Russian rule and cultural unrest.

 

At the start of WWI in 1914, at the age of 20, she immigrated to America.  It was here that she married John Kopcych and purchased land on Hayward Street, in Bridgewater, Massachusetts and began a life of farming.  Their first son was named Josef after John’s father, and their son Anthony was named for John’s brother.  They had two daughters, Stephanie Stella and Mary Rose.

 

Anthony, known to me as Uncle Tony married my father’s sister, Bertha.

 

I came to know Antonia, a widow, at this time, now living next door to my parents. We called her Babunia, which is grandma in Russian. She made great cookies.  I remember sneaking one from her kitchen as a child.

 She loved her booze and did imbibe a little too much at times.  I remember she would take about a two-foot-long log from her wood pile that she kept for her wood stove and carry it out to the edge of the street and set it on end.  Somewhat portly she would firmly plant herself down with feet apart on the ground for balance and yell “hey” and she waved to the cars as they drove by.

It is believed that a wood stove caused her home to catch fire.  Her son, Tony, lived right next door to us.

 

In the middle of the night, my father's cousin, Eddie Marvel, who lived two houses down, woke my parents by banging on their bedroom window.  My mother was startled and screamed for the reflection from the fire made it look like our house was on fire. 

 

Babunia’s son, Tony, ran to his mother's home that was on fire. In an attempt to save her he broke a window to get to her. It was a valiant effort in futility for the house was totally engulfed and the flames much too hot.  Tony cut his hand on the windowpane and was bleeding heavily.  Knowing he was not able to save his mother, he walked over to our house leaving a trail of blood.  My mother wrapped his hand in a towel to stop the bleeding while sitting on the back porch steps, just as the fire trucks and police arrived. The house was a total loss.

Sadly, Antonia died in that fire in 1955. I was eleven years old as I looked out our living room window at all the activity. The night air was red with fire.  I watched as she was put into the back of an ambulance in a black body bag and taken away.

Only the foundation of her home remained where trees and weeds grew in and around the foundation and property for decades before the land was sold and a new home was built.

 

 

Robbing The Cradle

 I always heard the term "Robbing the Cradle", perhaps this is where it started.

     Thomas Tomson was born Oct 19, 1664 in Middleboro, MA. He was good friends with John Morton who also lived in Middleboro and they frequently visited each other. 

On one occasion when Thomas had turned 25, Morton advised that he should soon marry as he was of the proper age. Thomas is alleged to have replied, "I will marry that daughter of yours when she is old enough," pointing to John Morton's infant daughter Mary in her cradle. 

 John is not known to have objected, and when Thomas was 50, he made good his word, marrying Mary, aged 25. They married on December 13, 1715 in Middleboro, Massachusetts. They had seven children.

Thomas was a farmer and a glazier, and set diamond glass in lead, a feature of windows common in those days.

Thomas had an estate of 700 acers.  He was well off financially and was always charitable.  Rev. Cotton, the first minister of Halifax said, “Thomas Tomson was the wealthiest man in town but more to his honor was rich toward God.

 

 

Sleeping Beauty

 

A beautiful little blue eyed blonde healthy baby girl was born on January 15, 1934  to Lloyd and Myrtle Yarrinton. They named her Vivian Maxine and called her by her middle name, Maxine.

March 4, 1936

Two and half old Maxine diagnosed with sleeping sickness remains unresponsive. She never cries and it is believed she feels neither pleasure nor pain since the frantic day her parents brought her to the hospital. She suffered an Encephalitis attack five months ago last September.

Since September 24 1935, the doctors have studied Maxine’s case to no avail.  Her mother calls weekly prayful for some sign of recognition. Four year old Maxine remains comatose after 26 months despite normal growth and temperature.

Maxine Turned five with unseeing eyes from the birthday cake her father Lloyd offered her. The child in her mother’s arms celebrated her birthday by taking the liquid diet she has received since 1935, sleeps through her birthday.

Her parents fear she may never awaken. The parents of the rosy-cheeked blonde child hope that someday she may return home to join her two brothers and sisters.

According to her death certificate, Maxine passed away on September 12, 1934 at 9:02 pm at the age of 7 years, 7 months and 28 days. One month prior to her death she acquired Pulmonary Tuberculosis. That along with her six years of Encephalitis contributed to her death, which left her in the state of mental deficiency – Idiot. 

She is buried I Hope Cemetery, Carnesville, PA.

 

 

 

 

Colonel Josiah Edson

 

The Tory House in Central Bridgewater derives its name from its historical association with Loyalists, commonly referred to as Tories during the American Revolutionary War.

The house was built in 1698 by Jacob Leonard, (still standing today) a descendant of James Chilton who came over on the Mayflower, and whom we also descend from.  It was run as a hotel with many small rooms. Later, during the “Ante Bellum” days preceding the Civil War, this house was a station on the Underground Railroad helping runaway slaves escape to Canada.

Rev Allen, Minister of the First Parish Church, who under pressure for his Tory sympathizers, sold the property in the year leading up to the Revolutionary war, to our sixth great grandfather, Colonel Josiah Edson. He was a sympathizer and head of the militia.  Edson was born in Bridgewater on New Year’s Day, January 1, 1682.

 He was a Justice of the Peace, a Deacon of his church, a town Selectman from 1704 to 1734, a representative of the General Court in Boston for many years, and owned the largest and best kept farm in Bridgewater. Josiah was a highly respected and trusted man in town.

But, in 1774, Josiah’s great loyalty to the Crown and King George angered his fellow townsmen because he sided with the British, was forced to leave town and the Tory House was confiscated by the Continental Congress in 1775.

Josiah feeling threatened, left his farm, family and friends behind to seek the protection of the British Army in Boston and became identified as the enemy of Bridgewater. In the early part of 1776, he accompanied the British Army from Boston to Halifax, Nova Scotia and from there to Newport Long Island where he died on December 26, 1778.

Bridgewater for many years had a 4^th of July celebration with a pageant depicting the town’s history during the Revolution, with Colonel Josiah Edson featured not as a strong and courageous man who dared stand up for his minority and mistaken beliefs, but as the dirty villain, and a bronze plaque in front of the house labeled it as “The Tory House” for all to revile.

Remembering a COVID-19 Thanksgiving

 Written Nov 25, 2020

Thanksgiving arrives tomorrow and I will be cooking dinner for me alone. Am I sad? No. I have much too be grateful despite COVID-19 invading my way of life. 2020 has been filled with many challenges in varying degrees. Missing the human touch, celebrations missed, overcoming family health issues, and yet, here we are surviving all that has been thrown at us, a testimony to family strength, love, strong faith and a willingness to help others that may be lonely by a simple phone call. 

Being a genealogist I know the difficulties my ancestors overcame that taught me perseverance, determination, commitment, compassion, support and the true meaning of love by putting others before oneself. 

As a direct descendant of ten Pilgrims, I wish you a very happy thanksgiving no matter where or how you celebrate. Remember all that you have to be grateful for.

Giving a Voice

So you want to write a book?

You need curiosity, love of knowledge, know your subject and eager to write it down. Bring readers in to propel them forward. Example: Freezing to death, or a fiery crash.

But this is what I do know. What is it that motivates you?  Just understanding the type of books you enjoy reading could give an indication as to the direction you would go to write a book. Lesson number one, “First you have to know who you are”. 

If you aren’t sure, you’ll make a mistake.  But we learn by them.  Example, a close family member wrote two completely different fictional books.  One was only half-way good, the second a complete failure. Lesson two,  ”Write what you know.”

Every author does research. No matter how much you know about a subject, there is always the need to do research.  Whether it is about genealogy, history, children stories, romance, or any other topic. “Lesson three, Research is part of writing.”

There are many writing veins.  It could be a book, but it also could be a blog, newspaper, magazines, or specialty quarterly journals. And, we mustn’t leave out writing poetry. So lesson number four, “It doesn’t have to be just books”.

For me, it was biography/memoir, my book Forever Laced, A Journey Through Two Centuries, also writing for the Southern Genealogy Exchange, a blog, and writing many short ancestor stories. Lesson five: “Editing is a writer’s worst enemy”.

Talk about main stream publishing. Getting an agent, also called mission impossible, vs. self-publishing, hard work, expensive and other pitfalls. Lesson six, “It is a lot of work, frustrating, but very rewarding, enjoy the process, have fun”.

Jürgen Trapp- Texting My German Cousin

 

Jürgen Trapp, son of Emil and Elizabetha Trapp

One of the greatest joys genealogy has given me was discovering my cousin, Jürgen Trapp, who lives in Sasbackwalden, Germany along the Black Forest. He is my 6th cousin 1X removed.  We connect through my 5th great aunt, Christiana Rosch, when she married Josef Bruder, his great grandfather, on February 26, 1781. Their daughter, Hermine, was his grandmother.

It has been such a joy getting to know him and his family, his wife Elke, three daughters. Anna, Lisa, and Lena, and son Alexander. He has shared stories, pictures and legends of the homeland. Some of which I have written about in my book " Forever Laced, A Journey through Two Centuries, but had never actually seen until now through his pictures.

My third great grandparents, Mathias Rosch and Magdalena lived in Sasbachwalden, a Black Forest municipality in Western Baden-Wurttemberg Germany.  It is located on the western slopes of the the Hornisgrinde Mountain located in the Northern Black Forest and belongs to the district of Ortenau. More than 70% of the town is forest.  They lived along the Oos River at the bottom of the Black Forest. Jürgen has brought my German ancestry to life.

Jürgen has a big heart. When Russia invaded Ukraine and the people had to flee to other countries, many Ukrainians went to Germany, Jürgen took in Tetianna, and her two children, Anna and little Alex while her husband was fighting the war.  Then he also worked to find apartments for the refugees .

                                                           

  Christiana Rosch and Josef Bruder 

       parents of Hermine  

                                                      

            

 Home of Christiana Rosch and Josef Bruder, 

Marberg, Germany

   (Today it is a hotel)

Following, are various views of Jürgen's ancestral home. He is the third generation to live in this house.  Painted on his house is evidence of the love of his family and his history.  The first two names side by side are his name, Jürgen Trapp and his wife Elke. Next are his parents, Emil and Elizabetha Trapp, then his grandparents Hermine and Emil Trapp.

Below that are two Coat of Arms in memory of his grandparents and parents who built the house. The Coat of arms of Sasbachwalden with the fir tree is for his grandparents Hermine, Emil and himself. The second Coat of Arms of Lauf is for his parents, Emil. Elizabetha, and his wife Elfe who are all from Lauf.

Below that is a saying by Hoffmann Von Fallersleben, who also composed the German national anthem.

"Like the oaks striving towards the sky, despite the storms, we want to be like them, free, and firm, like Germans oaks lifting out heads."

                       

 

His text messages always begin with,  

"To My Dear Cousin." He became a grandfather for the first time this year, 2022.

He shared with me his Christmas and Easter traditions:

"You can say sauerbraten, is our national dish here in the southwest of Germany, especially in our region here.  At Christmas the children are all there and Elke's parents, of course. It has always been like this at Christmas and Easter".

"On Christmas Eve, we traditionally serve sauerbraten noodles and potato dumplings. This is a festive meal with a long tradition here in the Black Forest, Sauerbraten ..... is a piece of beef that is pickled in red wine vinegar with bay leaves for a few days. After souring, the meat is seared and then left on the fire for a long time.

Everyone is already looking forward to it".

"With all that we have shared, and yet to share, me learning more about my German ancestors, he learning more about his American ancestors, has brought us closer together. We are both enamored with our family and its' history, indeed we are, dear cousins.

Ten Life Lessons

     I look up at heaven and say to my husband, “It started with just you and me, now we number twenty-seven. I see the faces of our children, their spouses, grandchildren and great grandchildren and realize how blessed we are.  My crystal ball sees more great grandchildren arriving in the future.

 I have been blessed to be here on this earth for seventy-eight years. and hoping for many more. I have experienced life in all its forms; love, pain, disappointment, sadness, joy and struggles. But something happens from living a long life. You learn what is important.

For the last twenty-five years I have delved into the genealogy world. What started out as just a curiosity, turned into a lesson of not just where we came from, but what our ancestors can teach us, but also who we are as family.

My heart is full. How do I pass this knowledge of living a life of joy effectively so it is understood.  These are my "Ten Life Lessons".

1. The most important lesson my dad taught me, for as long as I can remember, "Family First", without them you have nothing. Keep them close and protect that relationship.

2.  All marriages run into difficulties.  Don't give up so quickly, hang on, for in time all will heal and you will  discover the love you have for each other remains and has grown even stronger for what you endured.  What a great gift you give yourself, love everlasting. 

3. Don't be quick to judge a family member. You cannot fully understand what problems they may be going through. Try to be patient, loving and understanding.  Don't assume their unusual behavior has anything to do with you. Give them time to resolve their situation.

4. Everyone needs financial help at one time or another. You may have been given monetary assistance without judgement or question of having to pay it back. Just remember, pay it forward without expectations of repayment. It's all about love and supporting each other.

5. Continue the family traditions that have been practiced and carried forward for so many generations. Life can get crazy busy with work, children, and all that it entails.  These special gatherings of  Christmas, birthday parties, and summer cook-outs, keep you connected to one another.

6. Encourage each other, so that they may build confidence in themselves to achieve the dreams they are seeking. We all need someone to believe in us. Be that cheerleader.

7. Life is shorter  than you think. Always accept invitations when possible from family and friends, for the opportunity may never come again. Don't regret missed life experiences with those who are important to you.

8. Learn to forgive. Everyone makes mistakes, forgive them. Not everyone has the same beliefs as you, accept it. Not everyone has the same values as you, understand it. Not everyone has the same life-style as you, be open-minded. Being critical of others doesn't bring you joy, let it go. 

9. Be kind to yourself. We can be our worst enemy. We are more judgmental of ourselves than anyone else ever could be. Erase the negative thoughts that rob you of your happiness.  Accept yourself.  Believe you are worthy because you are. You are perfect the way you are. 

10. Lastly, find peace. There is so much tragedy in the world. We are confronted with it daily and it can rob you of contentment and at times make you fearful. You have to look for it through faith, the beauty of nature, the sounds of birds and ocean waves.  Connect with family and friends to share laughter.  Don't let negativity drag you down, smile, happiness and contentment is out there and can be yours if you seek it.  

Reprieve 1982

Bob and Elsie

                                                 

 The Story Behind Reprieve

          It was in 1982 when the George O. Jenkins Company on High Street located in Bridgewater, Massachusetts closed its' doors forever.  Dad, who was the General Manager was suddenly out of work.

The only option for mom and dad was to sell their home and move to the Florida Homestead where mom grew up. But, as luck would have it, dad received notification that he would still have a job, but, it was located in Lawrence, Massachusetts, about 56 miles away.

It was a long two hour drive, in heavy highway traffic, and it quickly took a toll on his body and his health began deteriorating. Dad, who was approaching retirement in a few short years, lost a lot of weight, his color was pale, and we all could see if this continued we would lose our father.

It was at this point, led by our mother, that the decision  was made to sell their house and move to the  Florida homestead. The house was sold to our sister.

As much as they loved being at mom's childhood home in Florida , missing family was emotionally difficult.

 

Widowed at Age 28

Ellen Sullivan Wilber, my third great grandmother, known as Nellie was widowed at age 28.  She was two months pregnant with her fifth child when her husband Joseph passed away in 1886. She was left to raise one year old Ellen, Mary Catheren at age two, four year Dennis and William age six. She went to work in the Bay State Iron Works company sewing hats to support her children for the next seven years.  She would marry again in 1892.

Nellie goes to work

                              Nellie is in the front row, 9th from the left.

The following information is from "Recollecting Nemasket" writing about the history of the town of Middleboro and Lakeville.

       "At the start of the last quarter of the nineteenth century, the Bay State Straw Works, located in Middleboro, Massachusetts, was producing half a million hats and bonnets annually, or over 1,300 a day. To produce these goods, the plant employed nearly two hundred and seventy operatives, divided equally between men and young women, as well as some 1,200 women and girls as outworkers “who are engaged sewing hats and bonnets at their homes,” the company’s braid cart delivering straw to these women and collecting straw braid in return.

"One of the few comments upon nineteenth century female labor history in Middleborough concerns the lot of women in the Bay State Straw Works, the firm which was located on Courtland Street and was once the world’s largest manufacturer of straw hats and bonnets. Of their work there, it was written of the firm’s female operatives: 'The work was easy and pleasant; the girls’ tongues flew as fast as their fingers, and they said of their work. It is just like going to a party.’

"There are reasons to doubt, however, the characterization that work in Middleborough’s straw industry for women always was either “easy” or “pleasant” as some have maintained.  

"The Bay State Straw Works employed 150 females and 8 men.  Like other industries, straw manufacturing preferred the use of female help wherever possible, largely due to the wage differential between men and women, as well as the presumed greater docility of female workers, though this latter view carried little import at this stage in Middleborough as labor remained disorganized and would remain so for some time. Men, however, were engaged by the straw works for the physically more demanding tasks at the manufactory, working as bleachers, dyers, blockers, printers, packers, teamsters, machinists, carpenters and firemen, among other occupations, and as the firm’s business increased, so too did the number of men on the payroll to support these functions.

"The treatment of its female operatives would be a frequent source of potential conflict for the Bay State Straw Works, as it frequently was for other employers. In February, 1876, female employees’ wages were docked twenty-five percent, prompting sympathy from at least one journalist who opined that the reduction was 'a heavy cut when they didn’t get too much before.' In December, 1885, shortly before Christmas, wages of sewing machine girls were similarly docked.

 "Nonetheless, women of talent were recognized by the firm and promoted to positions of authority as overseers and forewomen, supervising other women in areas such as the trimming department.

 “While characterization of employment during the latter half of the nineteenth century for women in the local straw industry as “a party” is highly suspect, unquestionable was the role of these women, many whose names have long been forgotten, in helping build and sustain one of Middleborough’s historically most important industries."

                                     Nellie Sullivan Wilber Thompson