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.

 

No Business Like Shoe Business

  The Keith family emigrated from Scotland to Bridgewater, Massachusetts in 1662. The Rev. James Keith became the first minister in town. It was his grandson, Levi, that built an addition to the house where he ran a tannery business. It remained in the family for a number of generations. But, it was George E Keith who invested $1000 into a  new shoe manufacturing company in the campello section of Brockton, Massachusetts, which at this time was known as North Bridgewater, and becoming one of the premier manufacturer of quality shoes.

Brockton, MA was known as "Shoe City". The Keith Shoe mfg. co. was established in 1758.  The Walk Over name came from a newspaper headline in 1899. "America's Cup Defender, 'Columbia' wins in a Walk Over of Sir Thomas Lipton's 'Shamrock'". 

The shoe mfg. company built a clubhouse for its' employees on thirteen acres. The Walk Over Club had baseball fields, tennis courts, croquet, archery and all kinds of outdoor sport activities. Indoors, there was a bowling alley, a swimming pool, billiards and so much more. There were rooms that catered to men only and other rooms with fireplaces  just for the women. There was ample room to conduct dances, socials, weddings, and other entertainment.

The clubhouse was so popular that by 1900 more than 1600 employees became member for a fee of $2.00.

By 1919 Walkover shoe was not the only shoe mfg. company in the city.  The city now had approximately 13,000 employees making shoes. Walkover shoe in Brockton came to end in 1945.

When this building came to its end of life and it was being torn down, this brass door knob was rescued. You can literally see George walking over the shoe, hence Walk Over Shoe.

When WWII began there was a need for military boots. One of those manufacturers was Corcoran Shoe where my grandfather, Malcolm Leroy Smith, worked from 1941 until is death of a heart attack in 1955.

There were others in my family tree that made shoes.  They too were one of the many that worked for the largest industry in Southeast Massachusetts.

My dad, Robert Franklin Smith, also worked in the shoe industry, by making the leather board in large vats that went in to making the shoes.  He was the General Manager for the George O Jenkins Company in Bridgewater, Massachusetts until his retirement. Dad passed away in 2008 at the age of 86.

I remember hearing on the the radio one day in late 1969 early 1970 how shoes were going to made overseas; less expensive to produce, lowering prices for Americans to purchase  This was the beginning of the final curtain for the shoe business in Massachusetts.

Am I or Am I Not

I am a Genealogist.  Or am I?  Genealogy is a line of descent tracing continuously from one ancestor to another.  The study of ancestry descent being a single direct line backwards from yourself. Is this who I am?

I am a Geneticist.  Or am I? It helps to explain why people look like they do i.e. ancestor photos and to possibly identify health conditions, i.e. death records, that our ancestors could have possibly passed onto us? Is this who I am?

I am a Family Historian. Or am I?  Documenting family history. This is what gives us our identity and binds the family together. Is this who I am?

 I venture to say that I am partially made up of all of the above titles. 

 Family consists of your parents, grandparents, great grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. These memories are just as precious and as important as the family heirlooms we covet.

When someone you love dies you still remember them; their appearance, how they dressed, talked and laughed, perhaps where they worked and their daily activities. When you find pictures of your ancestors and documents that help us learn the details and history of their lives, it is as if you knew them when they walked the earth. 

 If you stay strictly to blood lines and your tree carries only parents and grandparents throughout time, you are a genealogist.

But if you include all the children, all the spouses of multiple marriages, and include any and all information we know of and or discover, you have a family tree.  Family can be complicated for it consists not only of blood relatives but also family that we are not related to but were raised with. We love them both. 

There is no right or wrong way to build your family tree. It is personal, it is unique only unto you.  Everyone's family story is interesting and special. Your ancestors most likely include many faiths. Perhaps you'll find a famous relative or a black sheep who will add some color to your tree.  Do you see history repeating itself throughout the generations, i.e. occupations.  Learn what country your family initially came from. What history did they live through. What challenges did they overcome. It all connects you to the past. 

There are many components that make up who you are.

 

                                            

                                        Climbing The Family Tree

Necessity is the Mother of Invention

 “Necessity is the mother of invention”, meaning, when the need for something becomes imperative.  That quote, author unknown, has guided men and women throughout history mostly for good, but sometimes for the bad.

Our Ancestors occupation depended upon where they lived, the era in which they were born and the services that the community they lived in needed. Some communities like Potosi, Wisconsin was a lead mining town and that ended when the gold rush began in California and men everywhere, including Potosi, left to seek their fortune.

To say the least, convenient grocery stores weren’t available; so people depended on the many who were cattle farmers who raised beef and produced milk, and the vegetable farmers for their food. Some immigrants from countries who suffered and starved during the potato famine became just that, potato farmers, for this was their main staple.  

The only transportation at one time was the horse or horse and buggy.  So you had the blacksmith shops. Not only did they shoe horses, they forged tools, made agricultural implements, complex weapons and armor to simple things like nails.

Life hasn’t been easy over the generations.  Always you have the good and the bad affecting individuals. All it took was severe weather such as a drought, or hurricane and the farmer lost everything. That in turn affected the citizens.

In building new communities it was a necessity to hold more than one job, such as my own great grandfather.  His occupations included, citrus farming, Mayor, Postmaster, Volunteer fireman, owner of a newspaper, and the Tiger fence Company. (There was no Social Security)

World wars took our men away and women had to step in to fill the gap doing so called man’s work. As we became more advanced we became less self-sufficient.  Political and financial factions affected our lives.  Just as the fall of Wall Street put thousands out of work and the era of depression began. The government started the WPA, Works Progress Administration to provide employment, working on our roads and highways, and we saw soup lines to feed the hungry. In 1935 the Economic Security Act was proposed and then before being enacted, Congress changed the name to the Social Security.

So as you go through history you can draw a parallel line of opposites, one for the bad, and one for the good that came out of changes throughout time, but sometimes, what was meant to be good such as nuclear power can also be bad because it can be used as a weapon.  Now mark the events in history where Necessity became the mother of invention”, in your family tree.

Alligator In The Sewer

         It's 1961 and we had been visiting my grandparents, Florence and Scott Hilligoss in Boneventure Florida located just outside of Cocoa.  Dad always had his vacation the first two weeks of  July, but the time had sadly come to head back to Massachusetts.

My three sisters and I hopped in the backseat of the new shiny black Ford, mom in the front seat with dad driving. But we had another making the trip home with us.  In the back window was a box carefully sealed .

Somewhere along the road we pulled over for gas.  This is where my mom climbed into the backseat to stretch out and take a nap.  My sister and I then climbed into the front seat.  Slowly but surely all fell asleep, except for dad of course who still had control of the steering wheel.

Suddenly, my sister was nudging me and telling me to stop it.  "Stop what?"  Touching my foot she complained. "I didn't touch your foot."  Yes you did.  We went back to sleep. When suddenly it happened again, and this time she was obviously mad and began yelling at me.  Then she yelled in pain when something bit her toe.

Now all hell broke out in the car for the alligator in the box had escaped. This carnivorous beast was just waiting to pounce on my unsuspecting sister.  It had to have crawled over my mother and two sisters in the back seat to get down to the floor to crawl under the front seat to reach my sisters feet.
Now we pull our feet up on the front seat screaming.

 Dad pulls into a gas station and gets out to try and capture this beast which proved to be an impossible task.  Fortunately, the gas station attendant, apparently a pro, appeared and grabbed the alligator as it was squirming around like a contortionist hissing with his mouth wide open exposing those sharp teeth.   We found it had chewed a hole right through that cardboard box, so the gas station attendant gave us a wooden box so it would not escape again.

When we got home the person I bought it for wanted nothing to do with it.  Can't blame him. So into the bathtub it went and we fed it hamburger.  Finally, a boy I had dated a few times said he wanted the alligator and he took it home, thank goodness.

It wasn't long after he too decided this was not exactly a friendly pet.  He told me he just let it loose somewhere.  So if you ever hear about an alligator in the sewer, you know where it came from.

Meeting Grandpa

Kathy meets her grandfather for the first time
 

If she looks angry, she is.  Just as she was asking her grandfather silently in thought, "Why didn't you care", totally oblivious to her surroundings, her husband snapped this picture .

Through my research, I learned he did care, very much.  This knowledge made me and my mother less critical of him.

No, he wasn't perfect and he made personal mistakes, but then again no one is perfect.  But a hard life during the depression does have a profound impact on people. Feelings of hopelessness, frustrations and failures I now know he endured.

Genealogy has a way of discovery that can and do heal wounds of the heart. Happy that I could bring some peace and understanding to my mother, allowing her to better understand her father.





DNA LEAP

DNA has become the hot topic of conversation these days. You see it advertised on television just about every day where people express being surprised to find they were part Native American.  Still another was surprised to find out they weren't German after all but actually Irish. 

I decided that I don't need to do my DNA.  I'd been doing genealogy and researching my lineage for so many years that I was sure I knew exactly who I was.  My maternal side led me to Germany, Scotland, Ireland with a little bit of Spanish thrown in there. Dad's side took me to England over to the Netherlands and the Mayflower brought me to the new land called Plymouth.  Have Irish on dad's side too. I also found some French and few other European countries. Seems that people crossed the border to find their spouse, what a surprise.  So why spend money doing my DNA when I already knew all the answers?

Should I be so cocky as to think I know it all?  What if I am missing something?  The advertising pressure had become just to tempting and bringing some doubt to mind.  So what do I do?  I broke out my piggy bank and ordered a DNA kit through Ancestry; on sale of course.

It arrived fairly quickly.  I opened the small box, read and followed the instructions to the letter. Thank goodness I didn't have to pee in a bottle.  I mailed it in the next day and was told to expect an answer in about six weeks. Now I had more time than I cared to, to wonder and worry about what I might find out about me.  Has anyone ever been shocked or disappointed about what they learned I wondered. 

To my surprise the results returned in about two weeks.  Oh boy, here we go as I nervously began reading the results.   And guess what?  I really did know who I was. I am 59% European, 31% Irish and 6% Scottish.  The only new information I found enlightening were the percentages.

The great part of this whole story is that for nine days this past early summer I was privileged to go on an Avalon Cruise down the Rhine River.  This nine day journey took me back to where my western European roots began, Switzerland, France, Germany and the Netherlands.  In Germany I came to within 150 miles from where my 3rd gr grandfather, Mathias Roesch, lived along the foothills of the Black Forest. I fell in love with beautiful Germany.  A journal was my constant companion writing diligently every day and took over 200 pictures to make sure I would remember it all.  It was the most meaningful, wonderful, fulfilling and heartwarming journey of my life.

So go ahead, take the DNA leap, you may be surprised by what you learn.

Drawing Parallel Lines

 “Necessity is the mother of invention”, meaning, when the need for something becomes imperative.  That quote, author unknown, has guided men and women thoughout history mostly for good, but sometimes for the bad.

Our Ancestors occupation depended upon where they lived, the era in which they were born and the services that the community they lived in needed. Some communities like Potosi, Wisconsin was a lead mining town and that ended when the gold rush began in California and men everywhere, including Potosi, left to seek their fortune.

To say the least, convenient grocery stores weren’t available; so people depended on the many who were cattle farmers who raised beef and produced milk, and the vegetable farmers for their successful crops. Some immigrants from countries who suffered and starved during the potato famine became just that, potato farmers, for this was their main staple.  

The only transportation at one time was the horse or horse and buggy.  So you had the blacksmith shops. Not only did they shoe horses, they forged tools, made agricultural implements, complex weapons and armor to simple things like nails.

Life hasn’t been easy over the generations.  Always you have the good and the bad affecting individuals. All it took was severe weather such as a drought, or hurricane and the farmer lost everything. That in turn effected the citizens.

In building new communities it was a necessity to hold more than one job, such as my own great grandfather.  His occupations included, citrus farming, Mayor, Postmaster, Volunteer fireman, owner of a newspaper, and the Tiger fence Company.

World wars took our men away and women had to step in to fill the gap doing so called man’s work. As we became more advanced we became less self-sufficient.  Political and financial factions affected our lives.  Just as the fall of Wall Street put thousands out of work and the era of depression began.

The government started the WPA, Works Progress Administration to provide employment, working on our roads and highways, and we saw soup lines to feed the hungry. In 1935 the Economic Security Act was proposed and then before being enacted, Congress changed the name to the Social Security.

So as you go through history you can draw a parallel line of opposites, one for the bad, and one for the good that came out of changes through time, but sometimes how what was meant to be good such as nuclear power can turn bad because it can be used as a weapon.  Now mark the events in history where Necessity became the mother of invention”, in your family tree.

Faces From The Past - Place of Honor

Some ancestor pictures cry out to be placed in a frame and hung in a place of honor. It was difficult to choose which ancestor picture to use, I could easily wallpaper the entire room. This  project was just completed.  I personally know them all, it certainly feels that way.  It's as if I actually met them when they walked the earth.  Research has taught me much about these wonderful people, who they were and what they did. Their personalities speak so loudly you can almost hear their voices.

Motivation - Learning - Sharing

This past March I began a Genealogy Club.  What did I get myself into? Not everyone has the tools for research so I sit with them individually to search for answers. Examples of questions I have faced.

I don't know who my father was. My mother died young and I was raised by an aunt. (We found him  and his grandparents, gr grandparents, etc.)

I believe I was illegitimate. I don't think my parents were ever married.  I was raised by my mother  and her husband. (They were indeed married a year before she was born but died when she was an infant)

I heard my mother came to America with a girlfriend and I would like to know who she was. (The manifest revealed that and more)

When we discussed black sheep I could see by the looks on their faces and their silent voices exactly how they were feeling about this topic. How does one overcome family secrets of long ago and not feel ashamed or embarrassed by them? Once I shared a few of my own they learned that every family has them and suddenly the group turned into true confessions.  I reminded them of the saying "What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, well what happens here stays here.  We all laughed.

We choose a topic such as a wedding, military, tragedy, child, etc. and write their stories and share them with each other during our meetings.  We do a "Show and Tell" and bring in family heirlooms to share.  The items are so heartwarming. Everyone exhibits a sense of pride.

They learned that it is impossible to separate genealogy from history for they go hand in hand.

We have and continue to take excursions, such as to Pilgrim Hall to view an exhibit of samplers, the oldest by Loura Standish, the daughter of Miles Standish.  We learned about gravestones, the meaning of symbols and markers, about the stone cutters.  What does it tell us about the person's life buried beneath?  We will be discussing American Epidemics at our next meeting and did our ancestors fall victim.

 

This picture was recently taken at the gravesite of Francis Davis Millet.  He was an artist and writer who graduated from Harvard.  He was a drummer boy in the Civil War.  He drowned in the loss of the ship "Titanic" on the 15th of April  1910.  One of our members happened to have a copy of one of his paintings,  "The Sheep" and shared it with our group.

So what did I get myself into?  I learned what it was like to be challenged and how rewarding that would be. Helping them find their ancestors, discovering answers to questions that have lingered in their minds and hearts forever, has brought me so much joy, especially when I see the excitement on their faces. 

Missing Yesterday

Genealogy is an interesting journey for those of us that wish to find our ancestors. Who were they, what did they look like and how did they live their lives.  It always makes us feel closer to them and ultimately helps us to know ourselves, especially when we find their picture, or find their gravestone because it makes them real, not just a story from the past and we celebrate their existence.

Then we dig deeper to find our ancestors personal stories, what did they contribute to their community, and what did they do for work.  You even find the street they lived on, and sometimes actually have the opportunity to see the house they once lived in. You discover who their neighbors were and most likely they too were ancestors for the trend back then was for family to live near one another. We don't do that today, i.e. transportation. Were they happy?  Were they sick?  Did they live a long life or died young?  Did they suffer the loss of a husband or child(ren).. How did church and faith influence their lives?   It is like we knew them all along. 

So here we are, so many years later, our genealogy books are filled with names and dates, census records, birth and death records, newspaper articles, photographs and anything and everything else we discovered .  The books are busting at the seams for all we have garnered.  Our history neatly tied up and sealed safely away for future generations so they might have the gift of their family history.

So what is the lesson learned? What is not so much the obvious?  What is behind what we have uncovered, revealed or exposed about the good and the bad, the happy and sad, and the successes and failures of those from generations past.  You learn that people really don't change, only time does.  The behavior of yesterday is the same as it is today. That alone may give comfort to some.

As time marches forward places and things have a way of disappearing. Just look around. Grandma's house has been torn down to make way for the new, the oldest buildings in the center of town have made way for the strip malls.  Our children are kept so busy and controlled so they have no time to discover, explore, play make believe and use their imaginations, all so important for personal growth and discovering oneself. Childhood is gone in the blink of an eye.  Ever wish you could have your small children to enjoy once again?

I truly want you to get your education so you can get a good job. Go ahead and make as much money as you can to enjoy all the luxuries life has to offer. I truly want you to do this if you wish. Just don't forget the true gift of life. Remember what is most important.

What I learned and has given me guidance is that time doesn't stand still, it doesn't wait for anyone.  Never miss an opportunity when it is presented to you.  Never say no to an offer to go somewhere with family or friend.  These special moments that would have created wonderful memories may never come again. These are the stories that bring laughter and warm smiles.  These are the stories of love that you want to pass down to your descendants.  Don't look back one day with regret. I won't.

.

Heart vs Head

I have strayed away from writing in my blog this year.  Two weeks after celebrating our 50th wedding anniversary, Merrill was diagnosed with stage IV pancreatic cancer.  My heart is broken, life will never be the same without him.  I cry every day.  I haven't had much interest in writing at all for genealogy was something I shared with my husband. 

My focus is looking forward to building a new life for myself.  There is always a battle going on within me, heart vs head.  Sometimes I must listen to my head and not my heart to make the right decision. The loving heart can blindside you and wrong choices can be made in making the right decisions for the future. The hard thing is learning and understanding the difference to achieve the right solution.  

It became important to me and our children to turn this negative situation into a positive one for not only us, but for Merrill as well.  On September 28 we will doing a walk in Boston for Unite to Fight Pancreatic Cancer.  Our team has been working hard and have raised a little over $6000.

I am just going to write off 2013.  I don't see myself having much if any free time, with moving, settling into the new home I purchased, then the holidays and Christmas shopping. 

What Makes Me Me

I can't help but become sentimental when it comes to uncovering the secrets that lead to who you are.

Where did that strawberry blonde hair come?  Why do I rub my two fingers together?  Who was left-handed in the family that one takes after?  Why does my sister have thick hair and I have thin hair?  What about those idiosyncrasies?  Where in heaven’s name did those come from?

It’s fun to locate pictures of our ancestors, but those pictures are black and white and leave much to the imagination or yet to be discovered.   Certainly no home movies were left behind to validate information.  We can only rely on what an elder in the family remembers or what we find in cousins that we meet along the way. 

Only through meticulously researching the past are we able to uncover those long hidden secrets.

Let’s start at the beginning.  I have four children, two of them, a son and a daughter have strawberry blonde hair.  In the winter it's tends to be a darker blonde, but in the summer it lightens up to the strawberry blonde.  My mother’s side of the family had red hair and I always assumed that was where it came from.  

My husband’s mother was adopted.  Her birth mother died of TB at a very young age.  After researching his maternal birth grandmother’s side of the family we actually met some of his cousins, who much to our surprise had strawberry blonde hair.  We also discovered from the adoption papers that his maternal grandmother was a southpaw.  My husband was born left-handed but was trained to use his right hand.  Today he is ambidextrous.  Our daughter with the strawberry blonde hair is also left-handed. 

Strange how I rub my first and second fingers together, especially when riding in a car.  Never really paid much attention to it until others pointed it out.  Come to find out my dad performed this habit on a daily basis, and his father before him.  Recently I discovered I have a daughter who also inherited this feat.

These are just a few of the miracles of DNA that I have uncovered.  What can you find?

Names, dates, and places are the first things we discover.  Then we find pictures and cousins, sometimes simultaneously.  Then the personal side of what makes us who we are. Who we look like, the talents, personality, traits and habits we inherit that make us who we are, are some of the most fascinating discoveries of all.

Accepted At Last

The Florida Historical Society's main office is located in the old Post Office in Cocoa Village, Cocoa, Florida.   I remember going into the post office with my grandmother as a child.  It is a big impressive building. 

My mother donated some old photographs of the Cocoa and Eau Gallie area.  They asked her to write about her life as she remembered it which they published.  She was a Roesch afterall.  Now my family history was beginning to intrigue me.  Inside the front entrance of the FHS hangs a plaque with my mother's name engraved upon it.  My sisters and I were happy to make this happen for her to leave a lasting memory of her existence to the history of this area.

When I became interested in genealogy, every March while in Florida visiting, I spent time in this formidable building asking questions, sharing information and researching my Roesch history.  Every visit starting with the first visit frustrated me to no end.  Sometimes, I hate to admit, it really made my blood boil and my hair would stand on end.  I never felt welcomed and was made to feel intellectually inferior when it came to my family history.  Seems they thought they knew more than I did, especially when they told me I was pronouncing my family name Roesch incorrectly.  If you were to ask my husband he would tell you I embarrassed him on more than one occasion, most likely half-a-dozen times.  I just couldn't help myself, this was important to me.  Assuredly they weren't looking forward to my visit every March, but they were always gracious and I tried, I really tried to be polite. 

It was in March of 2008 that I stopped in for a last visit prior to my book, "Forever Laced" being completed for publication.  Two very important things happened.  First, Ben DiBiase, the Educational Resources Coordinator brought out a file box from the archives. He untied the cover and to my surprise lifted out correspondence my grandfather had written in 1932. The letters were found in the Roesch House in Eau Gallie that the FHS now owns and is part of the Rossetter Museum.  These letters along with responses were very important to see.  It put my grandfather's, William Philip's, life story into perspective for it showed how hard he was trying to find work during the depression.   

Then the man who always seemed to me to be a know-it-all, who refused to believe how to pronounce my family name walked in.  He sat at the table with us and asked in the softest voice I had ever heard him speak, "What was the relationship between your grandfather, and John McAllister?" I had uncovered his name and the relationship while researching the history of the Roesch family and felt quite satisfied to tell him, John was my grandfather's uncle.  This was a question, he as a genealogist hadn't been able to uncover.

The following year I returned with books in hand and donated two for their library. This time I was made to feel truly welcomed and treated with respect.  I was surrounded by those I had spoken with for so many years asking me, of all people, questions about the Roesch family and how it related to the history of Eau Gallie.  Finally, I felt accepted as one of their own.  I'm home at last.  And by the way, he now pronounces the name correctly, Ray-shh.

As a final note, my great grandfather, William Russell Roesch was the founder of the newspaper named the Eau Gallie Record.  I was able to convince his grandson, my uncle Clyde, that the collection of newspapers, some over 100 years old now in his custody, should be donated to the Florida Historical Society for safe keeping before they completely disintegrate. 

Ben DiBiase accepted these newspapers , 'Eau Gallie Record', 'Melbourne Times' and the 'Cocoa Tribune' stating in his letter written August 14, 2012, "Again, I want to thank you for making this donation possible,  these papers will be of great use to researchers in the future.  In fact, I have already received research requests from people who are interested in the history of Eau Gallie and would like to see these newspapers. He graciously included two CD's with digitally scanned copies of the newspapers, one for me, and one for my uncle.  Now we can enjoy these for a lifetime.

The Radio & Edgar Allen Poe

It was 1972 we were living in Concord, New Hampshire.  I was a housewife raising four children the youngest only twelve months old.  I loved listening to the radio as I went about doing the things that a young wife and mother do around the house.  No time to sit and watch TV but the radio was always on.

Being a lover of books, especially old books, something being announced on the radio caught my attention .  Someone was selling five books containing ten volumes about Edgar Allen Poe.  The asking price was $25, a rather hefty sum for us at the time where every nickel counted, but I couldn't resist.

I made the call to the woman who was selling them and told her I would be by later that day to purchase them.  That afternoon I collected my treasure and brought them home. 

Later that evening, after the children were bathed and put to bed, I sat down with my new purchase  and examined them with great care.  Some of the pages had never been slit apart so you couldn't see what was written in between.   Whomever owned these books not only loved Poe but loved poetry in general.  It was also clear that he loved distinguished American Literati.  A chapter in the book gives information about many authors that includes a sample of their handwriting.

The book had every story and poem that Poe had ever written.  To my surprise, inside each book were many newspaper clippings mostly about Poe but some of other poets as well who all mention Poe in one way or another.  One clipping read: "Author of 'Curfew Must Not Ring Tonight' Dies; aged 89", (1939) Rose Hartwick Thorpe, victim of heart attack. 

The oldest newspaper clipping I found was dated 1918.  "Hard Work Wins", Sir Fredrick Taves, a noted British Surgeon, said that hard work counts far more than brilliancy.  Brilliancy, like genius, is an accident.  It is born, not made. The world would be a dull, flat plane intellectually if it did not throw up brilliant people.  Hard work would never have given us Shakespeare, Beethoven, Keat, Heine, Poe, of Shelley. Woe to them who expect brilliancy alone to give them the success that is worthy and enduring.

Poe was a struggling writer whos works were rejected again and again but he worked hard and persevered.  In 1933 an article "Poe in an Informal Mood" stated, Poe was very far from being the stark, solemn, unsmiling figure that so many picture him.  he could even laugh at himself.  When he had won the hundred dollar prize in 1833, and Mr. Latrobe, one of the committee of award, asked the unknown young writer what else he had for publication, he replied that "he was engaged on a voyage to the moon".  He then apologized for his excitability, which he laughed at himself.

All that I find, all that I see, all that read, not only puts Poe into a previously unknown perspective for me, but also gave me information on all the other brilliant writers of that time.  I'm so glad I was listening to the radio that day.

Hey, Good Buddy

I'm taking you back to the early 1970's, the days of disco, flared pants, floral shirts, black and white television and the CB Radio. 

We owned a green station wagon with beautiful blonde wood adorning both sides of the car.  It was a pretty big car; they don't make them like that any more.  Seats belts hadn't yet been invented and our kids could climb over the seats and settle into the back with pillows and blankets. 

Once when returning home from an over-night trip my five children, I only have four but am counting my husband here, when a camping ground was spotted with a stream running through it.  I was begged by all to p-l-e-a-s-e stop and camp there.  Being outnumbered what is a mother to do but to say yes. 

My three girls and I huddled way in the back of that green station wagon where the full moon kept me awake all night.  My husband and son slept outside near the stream when a surprise visitor arrived, by the name of skunk, sniffing my son up and down. Horrified, my husband prayed his son would not move.  Whew, all's well than ends well, but it did get into our picnic basket.

Many of you already know I grew up traveling to Florida the first two weeks in July, when my father eared his annual two weeks vacation, to visit my maternal grandparents. We drove down route #1 reading all the South of the Border and Burma Shave signs.  But now married with four children we decided to drive down caravan style, with my parents in the lead.  Having done this for so many years, they knew the way like the back of their hand. 

To communicate we both installed CB radios prior to our departure.  Naturally we had to have names, we were called Green Dragon for our green station wagon, and they were Yellow Bird because they drove a yellow Mercury.  It worked great and we certainly got the hang of  of CB's quickly. 

There were always truckers on the road, it seemed like every other vehicle was an eighteen-wheeler.  And, every one of them had a CB. Sometimes we would get stuck between two of these trucks meaning you were in the cradle.  You always knew when there was a sheriff down the road because they would announce, "Hey good buddy, County Mountie spied just past exit 82".  Or, hey good buddy, Smokey (state police) up ahead giving out gifts ( tickets).  Then once in awhile you would hear a female voice break in attempting to entice a trucker to her stop. Oh my!  We heard a trucker respond and she replied, " Too late, you've already gone by me".  Happy my children were too young to understand.

The CB radio was used for emergencies like a potty stop, flat tire, potty stop, to get gasoline, or a potty stop. What can I say we had four kids and potty stops were important. Mom slept most of the way so dad kept driving despite the fact it was way past lunchtime.  It was only when we saw my mother's head pop up off the pillow that rested against the window that we would stop to eat.  No wonder dad wouldn't stop for lunch, he was trying to make up time.  Thank goodness we had a cooler on the back seat floor with cold drinks and a few snacks to tide us over.

The CB radio of its day made a rather long drive a fun one. Those days are long gone, filed away in history leaving me with wonderful memories that become more precious as time goes by.