Eugenie Belle - 1918 Pandemic

 Eugenie Belle Smith was born on July 30, 1891 in Bridgewater, Massachusetts to Joseph H. Smith and Laura Eunice Jones. Eugenie was sister to my paternal grandfather, Malcolm Leroy Smith.  

Eugenie married Herbert Farley Merrey on May 27, 1913. To them three children were born. Gertrude Eunice, named for her mother, Edwin (Eddie) Leroy, named for her brother Malcom Leroy, and Joseph, named for her father.

Life was wonderful, that is until the Pandemic of 1918 known as the Spanish Flu infected a estimated 500 million people around the world. In the United States, 675,000 died.

The only defense at that time was isolation quarantine, good hygiene, disinfectants and limitations of gatherings that many did not follow.

It was the second wave in the fall of 1918 that lasted three months, caused by a mutant virus that was especially brutal.  This took the life of Eugenie Belle on October 7, 1918 at the age of 27. She left behind a husband and three young children, a daughter age five, a son age two and an infant son, one month old.

Eugenie's husband, Herbert remarried to Anna Sophia Copeland. He died in 1970 and Anna died in 1933. They all rest together in Hillside Cemetery in Bridgewater.  Also in this cemetery lies her mother, her brother Malcolm and his wife, Mary Ann Pierce.

Eugenie's brother Malcolm named a daughter after his sister, Eugenie Belle born in 1921. She passed away June 10, 2020 in her 99th year.

We are at this moment in time under siege of a pandemic known as Covid-19. Many have died around the world.  At warp speed vaccines have been developed and history repeats as in 1918, many people don't follow recommendations. We are now in the grips of a mutant virus that is more contagious and deadly.  History is repeating itself and as we watch the numbers of those infected increase, more lives will be lost.

I've been vaccinated to protect not only me, but also my family and those I love.  Have you been vaccinated? 

The House of Helpfulness

 Yes, History and genealogy do go hand-in-hand.

Ferdinand Clinton Gammons, my 2nd cousin 4x removed was born September 29, 1845 in Middleboro, Massachusetts. He moved to Bridgewater at the age of 21. Here is where he met his future wife, Abbie Lawrence. He belonged to the Masons, May Flower Lodge.

Abbie had begun the work of knocking on doors to raise money to pay for a pastor.  She raised $400 and three months later the first service for the Methodist faithful was held in the Swedenborgian Church.

She met and married Ferdinand Gammons, a successful business man, on November 16, 1874. Together, in 1913 they purchased property on the corner of School and Cedar Street and built the Gammons Memorial Methodist Church.

 A stained glass window "The Good Shepard was given to the church by Abbie in memory of her mother.  It was dedicated by Abbie and Ferdinand on June 6, 1914.

I grew up in this church, first as a young student, then as a teen, I belonged to the Youth Group.  I sang in the Junior Choir, then later in the adult choir.  I became a Sunday School teacher.  I  was baptized at this church. I met my husband here, and we married here.  

We ended up moving to New Hampshire for a few years. Eventually we returned home to Bridgewater. Things were not the same as I remembered, my church home was not as it once was.  When the church disappointed me in a personal way, I never returned.

The other sad connotation here is that the name Gammons has been erased. It is now known as the Bridgewater United Methodist Church. I feel a sense of loss, in my genealogical way. How could they delete the Gammons name from which this church was founded.

Once their motto was " The House of Helpfulness", now it is Open Hearts, Open Minds, Open Doors, yet I now feel neither.

Ferdinand died on Feb 23, 1929 and with a Mason Ritual Funeral Service he was buried in Mount Prospect Cemetery in Bridgewater. 

Abbie, in honor of her husbands passing,, purchased the parsonage on Bedford Street in 1930 giving it to the church in his memory. Even that was sold. Abbie passed away in 1932.

 

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

Rowland Ward - Battle of Wilderness

 

When I first saw this picture of Rowland Ward, I was confused by his appearance.  It looked as if his beard was growing out of his mouth. Who is Rowland Ward?

Rowland was born on March 31, 1818 in Briggs, Lincoln, England, Wrawby Parish. He first married Alvria Vedder who was 14 years younger than he in 1846. They had two daughters, Harriet and Eva. Rowland became a Naturalized citizen of the United States in 1854. By 1860 we see Ward, a farmer, with milking cows, sheep and grew wheat, corn and oats. Alvira died on March 7, 1888.

One year and one month later on April 8, 1889, he married Amelia Benson, my 2nd gr grandmother's (Eliza Benson) sister. It appears it was her first marriage.

Rowland joined the army, Private 4th Heavy Artillery, September 1862 and became a Union soldier serving in the Civil War. He served in the bloody Battle of the Wilderness from May 5 1864 to May 7, 1864. Then on August 24, 1864 he was badly wounded at Ream's Station, Virginia that disfigured him for life. His lower jaw and chin were completely blown off, destroying the floor of his mouth along with the soft tissue right down to his neck and carrying his teeth away. Horrifyingly, leaving nothing to hold his tongue in his mouth, only left to hang down his neck.

Rowland was admitted to the Lincoln Hospital in Washington, D.C. Many surgeries were performed by military surgeons who said, "It was the most severe injury sustained by any soldier during the war." Ward was photographed at the Army Medical Museum by the order of the Surgeon General, George, A Otis. Three busts were made of his head that remain on display at the museum. Rowland was discharged from the army on June 23, 1865. His speech was always difficult to understand. He returned home to his wife, Alvira.

Rowland went back to farming living in Hunt, Levingston, New York. In 1886, fire destroyed his home caused by a defective chimney. If not for the banging on their door that awakened them, they were able to escape. Everything was lost.

It was reported in the Nunda, New York newspaper on May 28, 1898, Rowland who was now 80 years of age had become incompetent and no longer able to manage his affairs. That it was unknown what he was doing with his $50 a month pension. A jury was summoned to his small farm. After hearing a number of witnesses, Ward was declared incompetent.

Amazing that Amelia would marry a man with such disabilities, yet she cared for him until his death on June 17, 1898. He is buried in Hunts Hollow Cemetery in Portage, New York.

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.

Menorcan Journey

                                                                 Menorca Cove

Menorcan Journey – Ancestor Jose Joaneda Floyd (Floid)

Jose Joaneda Floyd (Floid) was my 4^th great grandfather.  He was born in Ciudadella, Menorca, Spain in 1761. Minorca is a beautiful Island just off the coast of the Spanish mainland.

In 1766, Jose was six years old and with his parents they made their way to the northern part of Florida with as many as 1400 others that left their homeland to tame this wilderness. It took two ships and two months to arrive at their destination. Their hopes were high.  Jose became known as Joseph.

They found the conditions were harsh and after much hardship and starvation they lost about half of their population. It was in 1776, Jose, now 16-years-old and with those that remained walked to St. Augustine, Florida for a better life.

Popular legend tells us that in 1513, Ponce de León, a Spanish explorer discovered Florida while searching for the Fountain of Youth and he named the region La Florida which means "flowery land".

Jose married Isabel Maria Dewees on 21 July 1794 in St. Augustine, St. Johns County, Florida.
They had six children. Their first born was Catherine Theresa De Jesus Floyd, who married William Hall. Catherine is mother to Mary Virginia Murray/Hall who married John Carroll Houston III.  Jose died in St. Augustine, Florida in 1818 at the age of 58. 

Florida didn't become part of the United States until 1898, after the Spanish American War.

In 1980, the Menorcan Society was formed to promote the culture and heritage who left their home to make a new life in St. Augustine. 

St. Augustine celebrates every year the arrival of the Menorcan people with traditional tasty food, music, and dancing. People dress in period costume and have a parade of men and women riding on pure bred Spanish horses, the breed is known as Andalusian.

 

 Minorca, a small island in the mediterranean off the coast of Spain with great character.  Biosphere Reserve. Where the traditional Minnorcan way of life has not been swept away by mass tourism.  Small harbours, sheltered coves, quiet beaches.  Minorca, an island with a mysterious prehistoric past whose legacy can been seen over the whole island.  Caves, talaiots, taules...Minorca, the eternal face of the mediterranean.  Within reach.  All minorca's charms are never more than 40 Km away.

Minorca is such a small island that you can reach anywhere on the island in less than an hour.  From east to west, Minorca measures less than 50 km and at its widest the island only reaches 20km.  To the east lies Mahon, and to the West, Ciutadilla.  It seems to us that a whole world separates these two very different cities, but for mainlanders it's a short drive of never more than 45km. On Minorca, any point on the island is the "surroundings" of everywhere else, as the island only measures 700km.  So we can take a brief look at the whole of Minorca.  The whole island being, as it were, the "surroundings" of Fornells.

Mahon and Ciutadells polarise the island.  At present Mahon has 23,000 inhabitants and Ciutadella 19,000.  These are small towns, with a relaxed way of life.  Both of them have harbours and their histories are quite distinct, to the point of being antagonistic.  Ciutadella, the ancient capital, was the centre of Minorca until from the Middle Ages.  There we can find the old palaces, as you'd expect in home of of the nobility and church, Ciutadella being the seat of the Bishopric.  These beautiful and noble buildings can be seen today in the narrow streets of the centre, once surrounded by massive defensive walls.

 

 

 

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.

A Slave Named Sambo

In 1755 there were 12 slaves in the town of Middleboro, MA. Rev. Peter Thatcher owned a slave by the name of Sambo who was imported from Africa.

A story is told of Sambo entering the home to see a fire in the oven. It scared him and he ran away. He was found later cold, tired and hungry and fearful of the wild animals that just might eat him. Sambo told the Rev. that in Africa when they got hungry they would kill a slave and cook him and eat him. Sambo said "I thought now my time."

Sambo went to church every Sunday and one day in church he was so moved by the sermon that he sobbed quite loudly disrupting the entire congregation.

(Story found in the records of NEHGS in Boston)

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.





Black Sheep Sunday - Murder Intent

It all started in Grant County, Wisconsin, when James read a newspaper story of a 14-year-old boy in a double slaying murdered a man and his wife. The story led him to set a plan in motion.

Sixteen-year-old James hid in the shadows as his father, Glen, age 46, a part-time County Deputy Sheriff was putting the family car in the garage.  His mother sat in the passenger seat. James pulled the trigger on a .22 caliber riffle shooting his father in the back of the head.  The slug fracturing his jaw. His mother suffered shock and was hospitalized with a nervous breakdown.

James was charged with intent to murder in the impulse shooting of his father and was held on a $15,000 bond.  His plea was innocent by reason of insanity in connection to the ambush.  Authorities planned to take him to the Mendota State Hospital for a mental evaluation.  He was found to be sane at the time of the shooting.  James then changed his plea to guilty.

James was sentenced to a term not to exceed six years.

Glen survived this brutal attack by his son and lived to the ripe old age of 93.



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