tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50657733867690226542024-03-13T05:02:23.372-07:00Travels Through My PastBooth, Dean, Lippincott, Ferrier, Mulder, Brackett, Rasmussen, Moe, Monsen, Brøchner, Poulsen, Hatstrup, Magnussen, Møller, Moore, Johnson, Avery, Allison, Radcliffe, Crawford
Warm Regards . . .http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042937779959850800noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5065773386769022654.post-45472950934577474352014-10-16T19:00:00.000-07:002014-10-16T19:51:47.950-07:00Joseph Garrett ~ My 6th Great Grandfather<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjy0uULiu3WRaNnYIUvN9L4GQZmx5uHcbgxhsUUm3vrTpNnbC9X8fic0gYMi98_ScJD0KQraXtyZAfkhf-gp1F2BBKl9PoHG-2aHFxg1Pw5C9AsiPOzWVwdRvWSzyqlzyvpbpOZWOkduU/s1600/Sixth.GreatGrandfather.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/AVvXsEjjy0uULiu3WRaNnYIUvN9L4GQZmx5uHcbgxhsUUm3vrTpNnbC9X8fic0gYMi98_ScJD0KQraXtyZAfkhf-gp1F2BBKl9PoHG-2aHFxg1Pw5C9AsiPOzWVwdRvWSzyqlzyvpbpOZWOkduU/s1600/Sixth.GreatGrandfather.jpg" height="320" width="205" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">My sixth great grandfather, Joseph Garrett, was born on <span class="dpdetails font13" id="ctl42_ctl00_birthDetails">
<span class="date">12 Mar 1743</span>
<span class="place">
in
Goshen, Chester, Pennsylvania, United States</span> to Mary Sharpless and Joseph Garrett. He was one of ten children. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="dpdetails font13" id="ctl42_ctl00_birthDetails">In 1770, at the age of 27, Joseph married Charity Collins. </span><span class="dpdetails font13" id="ctl42_ctl00_birthDetails"><span class="dpdetails font13" id="ctl42_ctl00_birthDetails"> The 1770 census records indicate he owned</span>: Acres - 210; Horses - 3; Cattle - 1; Sheep - 0; Servants - 0. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="dpdetails font13" id="ctl42_ctl00_birthDetails">Over several years they had six children; Benjamin (1772), Joseph (1773), Lydia (1775), Nathan (1778), Elizabeth (1780), and Sarah (1783). While all their children grew to adulthood, Nathan died at a young age. </span></span><br />
<span class="dpdetails font13" id="ctl42_ctl00_birthDetails"><br /></span>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBC7OvTARpi6Gf6HEh3M3vdT4QKVnC22vmUny53bnFkFAF3HKJOfQEq0ySxoCE_2Anqhs5GI8PZerP9NO47oLqd4G98gkHz_UN61BN8qGr8ahl8_4xWdS98pe-g6WHPUBPV-dXwJzO0ME/s1600/Joseph.Garrett.Marr..jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBC7OvTARpi6Gf6HEh3M3vdT4QKVnC22vmUny53bnFkFAF3HKJOfQEq0ySxoCE_2Anqhs5GI8PZerP9NO47oLqd4G98gkHz_UN61BN8qGr8ahl8_4xWdS98pe-g6WHPUBPV-dXwJzO0ME/s1600/Joseph.Garrett.Marr..jpg" height="63" width="200" /></a><span class="dpdetails font13" id="ctl42_ctl00_birthDetails"><span style="font-size: large;">The Garrett family had wanted to be part of the Quaker community however, according to Quaker minutes because Joseph Garrett and Charity were married by a "priest" he was not permitted to be a "Quaker". The Quaker minutes also indicate that upon his death Joseph's children were then welcomed by the Friends by the Quakers. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2FcZEmHr-IYeIpBfzH_46xqXRrWu5OP8xqA_CA__bIdBJkisvPNZdGAtj25La811Bzl2VV-2fSFVWN1S-MWnzBagQXPZUOyhIHK2UxJxCfZJ9PAqMs76LdUfFGNl1mfZfNbCqeYkizZE/s1600/Joe.Garrett.QuakerMtg.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/AVvXsEg2FcZEmHr-IYeIpBfzH_46xqXRrWu5OP8xqA_CA__bIdBJkisvPNZdGAtj25La811Bzl2VV-2fSFVWN1S-MWnzBagQXPZUOyhIHK2UxJxCfZJ9PAqMs76LdUfFGNl1mfZfNbCqeYkizZE/s1600/Joe.Garrett.QuakerMtg.jpg" height="317" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Joseph passed away at the age of 49, when his youngest child Sarah was only 9 years old. His wife Charity was only 41. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Charity passed away only 7 years later, at the age of 48. At that time her oldest child was 27 and her youngest was 16. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">A year after their mother's death, the following census of 1800 show the oldest son Benjamin with the remaining children - his siblings. He had living with him three (3) members of the household the age of 16 and younger and three (3) members of the household the age of 25 or older. At that time it appears evident how the children had to take over for the family when they pass away at an early age. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I have not found the burial locations of Joseph and Charity Garrett but assume they are somewhere in Pennsylvania. </span><br />
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<span class="dpdetails font13" id="ctl42_ctl00_birthDetails"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Warm regards, </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54490/191/4A366F8CED9B0BBD9A540B212C2FF1C0.png" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px;" /></a>
<br />Warm Regards . . .http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042937779959850800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5065773386769022654.post-64749775822752908962014-08-05T12:12:00.000-07:002014-10-16T19:49:13.664-07:00Theodore Harold Moe ~ A Family Mystery Uncovered?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtiU1_gMiK8cR8KRLrMA7d1d0-WkYIC4FH97yjGnkTtLEXZf-DNQNBeB4iezfxWk2CacoGAP5cy6eCprx8koOCyR9Foy4ug8eDjlU7yl2Sm0ZgROQB1gY6fs8NKLGTxi8TnMNSfaWf_1o/s1600/OrphanAsylumAdm.Bertha.HaroldMoe1908.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/AVvXsEjtiU1_gMiK8cR8KRLrMA7d1d0-WkYIC4FH97yjGnkTtLEXZf-DNQNBeB4iezfxWk2CacoGAP5cy6eCprx8koOCyR9Foy4ug8eDjlU7yl2Sm0ZgROQB1gY6fs8NKLGTxi8TnMNSfaWf_1o/s1600/OrphanAsylumAdm.Bertha.HaroldMoe1908.jpg" height="320" width="214" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">While there are some documented facts about Theodore Harold Moe there is much more we don't know about him. I'll begin with what I do know. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Theodore is my grandmother's (Bertha Moe Rasmussen) older brother and they were raised in a Catholic orphanage in Los Angeles, California since they were toddlers. The orphange's records show him as "Harold Moe" and on Aug 27, 1908 he was 6 years and 9 months. That would make his birth date November 27, 1901*. Bertha Moe at 4 years and 11 months would have had a birth date of September 27, 1903*. While his orphanage records indicate his name as Harold Moe subsequent records refer to him at Theodore Moe. I will refer to him as Theodore Moe.</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">We also know his father died on August 27, 1908 as indicated by the Application for Admission and a copy of a letter I received by directly contacting the orphanage's archives several years ago. We can only assume that both Theodore and Bertha were brought the the orphanage prior to that date to be cared for and the date of August 27, 1908 was the date on the application as that is when they were officially awarded to Los Angeles County. Both Theodore and Bertha could have been brought to the orphanage sometime between 1901 and 1907. There has been no information as to the mother of Theodore or Bertha except some records indicate she was Indian.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I frequently asked my grandmother, Bertha, and my mother Norma, for information regarding Theodore Harold Moe "Ted". While I gleaned some information they both didn't seem very forth coming with information. It appeared to be an emotional topic for my grandmother and while I pressed the issue she would just state small facts and then share she was unable to discuss it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Through the years I did obtain some photos of Ted</span>.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglsLkSobaawJ1yI8d37Xr0GHqvFEOpZ3Y-fzIhRWQ9DzbP5yMdHYDxk5lmrOn-7Ax_8XKFBLRGCup4Zl3-cmloOuWXFW-jUE1l80e3bXx58ev_DBTMRI7VA1RQpEyGK8xqGY0XBgYeuZ4/s1600/44e52639-f40e-4642-9f3a-e1b45163505b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglsLkSobaawJ1yI8d37Xr0GHqvFEOpZ3Y-fzIhRWQ9DzbP5yMdHYDxk5lmrOn-7Ax_8XKFBLRGCup4Zl3-cmloOuWXFW-jUE1l80e3bXx58ev_DBTMRI7VA1RQpEyGK8xqGY0XBgYeuZ4/s1600/44e52639-f40e-4642-9f3a-e1b45163505b.jpg" height="200" width="127" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Theodore Moe & my mother Norma</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilyVFKVkVKLye_F2le0ImaRETTEv3f_bZN1hXxuvKxWdwsfQOe4nMC88RDZNeLrBDNHzkb5Ouj3D5fHE0Db8nu5hLbE82bZxvr1OqpvhgaBOWNgZ0yDcEztC8rMGkjful4AK3_so74dTs/s1600/TheodoreHaroldMoe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilyVFKVkVKLye_F2le0ImaRETTEv3f_bZN1hXxuvKxWdwsfQOe4nMC88RDZNeLrBDNHzkb5Ouj3D5fHE0Db8nu5hLbE82bZxvr1OqpvhgaBOWNgZ0yDcEztC8rMGkjful4AK3_so74dTs/s1600/TheodoreHaroldMoe.jpg" height="200" width="120" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Theodore Harold Moe - date unknown</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The two photos I have here are the only two photo's I had of him for most of my research years. In the first photo (to the left), I don't have the year but Ted looks to be in his late teens. The photo to the right, is with my mother, Norma Rasmussen Booth. She was born in 1927, and based on the appearance of her age, I would date this photo to have been taken around 1930. Theodore would have been 26 years old. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Both my cousin and I kept researching Ted's history. My cousin then discovered, through newspaper archives, the information I posted here. Wow! Ted had been charged and convicted of stealing a phonograph and radio set from a patient at a private sanitarium. While this occurred in Los Angeles, California, Ted was ordered to serve his time at San Quentin prison. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">This shows the newspaper article and some additional information regarding the sanitarium and it's location. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So now my thoughts go to my grandmother and why she didn't want to discuss her brother. I'm sure she was embarrassed. We didn't discover this information until after my grandmother's death therefore it wasn't a topic we could approach with her. That probably was for the better. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTWCt5og8TNnzw81FSm5aUHu9lV1PLBIsttFCx3kzZX9sTt5Ra5IW9QG9SCNrg4Pj356ZLXxRz8939AOqmtBRsMc5mLmtVetEqXmsWa6XuT3Q0xSDrlaiEwJgrYIzWbkH1PD-YuwFrsnI/s1600/TheodoreMoeNewspaperClippings.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/AVvXsEgTWCt5og8TNnzw81FSm5aUHu9lV1PLBIsttFCx3kzZX9sTt5Ra5IW9QG9SCNrg4Pj356ZLXxRz8939AOqmtBRsMc5mLmtVetEqXmsWa6XuT3Q0xSDrlaiEwJgrYIzWbkH1PD-YuwFrsnI/s1600/TheodoreMoeNewspaperClippings.jpg" height="320" width="186" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">As one thinks about Ted, and the charges that were filed against him, in today's time it really would not have warranted any kind of prison term. It might not have even landed him jail. Fines yes, but jail time, who knows. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Recently, as ancestry.com released more documents, my cousin found his mug shot and the initial documentation of his entrance into San Quentin State Prison. It certainly is amazing that this document was found. I search for information on Theodore Moe has taken decades. I began inquires with the orphanage where they resided in the 1980's. There was no internet. It was mostly via phone calls and some written letters to them. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJLCY_lvMCzks_wPyY9w7KU9204UV-2zQeMmQNjW5QSRxSPo184bYRP1fGgvzonSiVwvC_B8KEfeVNoz7QBfLL8ISIYGvINgdb5nAuQC5j31BB_9xtBJbG4qslaOOGWroN2D7eylDqqxs/s1600/San+Quentin+State+Prision+ID+Card+-+Theodore+Moe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJLCY_lvMCzks_wPyY9w7KU9204UV-2zQeMmQNjW5QSRxSPo184bYRP1fGgvzonSiVwvC_B8KEfeVNoz7QBfLL8ISIYGvINgdb5nAuQC5j31BB_9xtBJbG4qslaOOGWroN2D7eylDqqxs/s1600/San+Quentin+State+Prision+ID+Card+-+Theodore+Moe.jpg" height="320" width="202" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">Here is the last record that has been found on Theodore Harold Moe. I find that the photo is very crisp and detailed, taken in 1924. In that photo he looks a lot like my grandmother. I learned he had a prior record of being drunk and was in L.A. County jail. The year that this took place, in 1920, was during prohibition - certainly an interesting time in history. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">So the photo I have above of Theodore (my mother's uncle) and my mother we had seen for many years. What we didn't know was that that photo was taken after his release from San Quentin. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">What I was told, by my Mother, was that Theodore struggled through life. She believes he had one child but had no idea what happened to her and his girlfriend. She added that Theodore had worked part time as a barber and did other odd jobs for money. He lived with my grandmother (his sister) and her husband off and on but they finally told him he had to leave, learn to take care of himself, and find work. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Theodore's life ends with this death certificate. It shows his father's name as Martin Moe and mother is unknown. Theodore was employed as a "cook". He died of pneumonia and chronic alcoholism. He was buried, via the county, at Holy Cross Cemetery in Los Angeles. I recall my grandmother telling me she had no money for his funeral, and didn't claim him, therefore the country placed him in an unmarked grave.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinDZQQ_u6Qq5DwaW_uNmI3TUwaSiS0cNoPlntMYV11SyeshAweQBfhfX9U8GhAFWsEXqQX4bh8l6JiYnrsZFRqCvd8WTRding3HshRunXQLN6foU0eXrF56fQ-k19rTDj0tCHy5Y1BI3s/s1600/TheodoreMoeDeathCert..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/AVvXsEinDZQQ_u6Qq5DwaW_uNmI3TUwaSiS0cNoPlntMYV11SyeshAweQBfhfX9U8GhAFWsEXqQX4bh8l6JiYnrsZFRqCvd8WTRding3HshRunXQLN6foU0eXrF56fQ-k19rTDj0tCHy5Y1BI3s/s1600/TheodoreMoeDeathCert..jpg" height="269" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">A family member, since then, did purchase a marker for him which I believe gave my grandmother some peace. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">So, it appears, my great uncle Theodore was a pistol. Caused a bit of trouble and paid the consequences. In today's day, he would not have gone to prison.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Rest in peace, Theodore, you are not forgotten. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Warm regards, </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54490/191/4A366F8CED9B0BBD9A540B212C2FF1C0.png" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px;" /></a>
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* Their birth dates are calculated using this birth date calculator: http://www.searchforancestors.com/utility/birthday.htmlWarm Regards . . .http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042937779959850800noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5065773386769022654.post-51536040276171617362014-06-25T17:20:00.001-07:002014-06-25T17:20:54.064-07:00Jane White Booth ~ Died in a Union Workhouse<span style="font-size: large;">I enjoy GeneaBloggers and it's daily prompts which give me a nudge of ideas to keep me engaged in writing about my ancestors. Each day we get encouraging topics to get our minds thinking of what has transpired in the past. Today's daily I'm choosing is <b>"Wishful Wednesday"</b>. You'll understand why when you finish reading this post.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Jane White Booth was my 5th Great Grandmother who lived her life in Gloucestershire, a county in South West England. It includes the cities of Gloucester, Cirencester, Stroud and Tewkesbury.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Jane was born about the year 1778 in Gloucestershire, England and died December 24, 1853 (Christmas Eve) in a Union Workhouse in Tewkesbury, England. She was 75 years old.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhITSP21-BQKByXhe3i07ApLdbMV0JV6zf6Lykk8oAMWlMUJ-elRNytqCK1Enz6li1kVIFbbnJVn2HNF1nLH_kQ6Q3Ty1_T2Zhl-Ve7VdKcVRm1qcYoTHmNnEY4msYYzh0u5e9IqJgKhzo/s1600/JaneBoothDeathCert..jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhITSP21-BQKByXhe3i07ApLdbMV0JV6zf6Lykk8oAMWlMUJ-elRNytqCK1Enz6li1kVIFbbnJVn2HNF1nLH_kQ6Q3Ty1_T2Zhl-Ve7VdKcVRm1qcYoTHmNnEY4msYYzh0u5e9IqJgKhzo/s1600/JaneBoothDeathCert..jpg" height="231" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Death Cert: Died at "Union Workhouse Tewkesbury" of "Natural Decay"</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I have no photos of my 5th great grandmother Jane, just some records and an online photo of where she was living when she died. As I was reviewing her records I noticed her place of her death. It had passed by my eyes before. She died at a "Union Workhouse" and I didn't know what that was. So I began my research.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Wikipedia states, <i>"In England and Wales a <b>workhouse</b>, colloquially known as a <b>spike</b>, was a place where those unable to support themselves were offered accommodation and employment".</i> </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I felt bad that she had to die in a workhouse. She had a husband, George Boothe, my 5th great grandfather, but I have no record when he died. I know he was born about 1782 and only can determine his death was before hers (1853) as her death certificate states she was a widow. I also know she had at least one son, John Booth. John, my 4th great grandfather, was born in 1804 and his date of death is unknown. I know John began serving in the Royal Marines at the age of 16, married Mary Hardy, and had four children that I'm aware of. My records indicate that her son John, and his family, lived in Wellington, England keeping John about 100 miles from his mother.</span><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsMjVdRRXrdtfI8pjeMFYdPVHOtO0I0xD9nxNv1eamQZSQpCh-AUKpj_Zj7pqY29Zkbj1OXZLFSTxhN2XlTGiDLXfvpzSUex07dLuUJ35ttXVA4f_GETWWWE4UyJ6pJpcNAPPgpbFuAq0/s1600/TewkesburyWorkhouse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsMjVdRRXrdtfI8pjeMFYdPVHOtO0I0xD9nxNv1eamQZSQpCh-AUKpj_Zj7pqY29Zkbj1OXZLFSTxhN2XlTGiDLXfvpzSUex07dLuUJ35ttXVA4f_GETWWWE4UyJ6pJpcNAPPgpbFuAq0/s1600/TewkesburyWorkhouse.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tewkesbury UK Workhouse where Jane Booth died in 1853</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;">I have to wonder why a son, and his family would have his mother live in a workhouse, when he is relatively close to her - 100 miles. Well, close in today's standards. But in 1853 a 100 miles is quit a distance on a horse and buggy.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">So, what was Jane Booth's life like in the final days of her life? At <a href="http://www.workhouses.org.uk/">www.workhouses.org.uk</a> workhouses in the mid-1800's are described as.. <i>"To stay in one, you have to work to help pay your way. Jobs are menial
and repetitive and some are simply punishments, such as oakum picking
(separating strands of old rope). Until the 1840s, 'disorderly and
profligate women' – a category that includes impoverished single mothers
– are forced to wear distinctive yellow clothes, which leads to them
being bullied. In the 1860s and 1870s, conditions in the special wards
for the insane or for those with venereal (sexually transmitted) disease
are especially grim." </i></span> <br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So to my 5th Great Grandmother, on this Wishful Wednesday, I wish your final days could have been spent with family. I wish your final days were of happy memories of you and your departed husband George and your handsome son John. My final wish is that I wish I could have met you. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Warm regards, </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54490/191/4A366F8CED9B0BBD9A540B212C2FF1C0.png" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px;" /></a>Warm Regards . . .http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042937779959850800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5065773386769022654.post-37873649552224550522014-06-15T20:14:00.000-07:002014-06-25T17:23:28.244-07:00Maren Rasmussen & Soren Poulsen ~ Aarhus, Denmark<span style="font-size: large;">For most of my genealogical searching years (over 30 yrs) I didn't have any information on my great grandfather's (Andreas Rasmussen) siblings. When my grandfather (Robert Rasmussen) was alive, for some reason, I didn't think to ask about them. That was odd for me because I was always asking about family that had passed.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">So now fast forward many years. I found a wonderful photo of my great grandfather's sister and her family who lived in Denmark. I was lucky to find this photo via another distant family member who has a family tree on ancestry.com. That photo gave me the opportunity to get to know my Great Grand Aunt, Maren Rasmussen, and her family. Through this photo, and further research, this is what I learned. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvYmzMVxImzl17BWLaGbmk5TY7h5d2mdFTS2WFlSDHReFK7LYDVLoBp1Ttgi3N6d-jVcdY0un0pBw-OmfltIXHQtRwa28gxrK90L4wuHb9xKZg1AyshvGf1wbBKFyOWNXzbBzX3t8nkVw/s1600/DenmarkFamily.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvYmzMVxImzl17BWLaGbmk5TY7h5d2mdFTS2WFlSDHReFK7LYDVLoBp1Ttgi3N6d-jVcdY0un0pBw-OmfltIXHQtRwa28gxrK90L4wuHb9xKZg1AyshvGf1wbBKFyOWNXzbBzX3t8nkVw/s1600/DenmarkFamily.jpg" height="221" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">est. 1915</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;">The woman at the bottom left is my Grand Aunt Maren Rasmussen. To her right would be my Grand Uncle Soren Poulsen. Behind are five of their children. L to R, Anders Johan Poulsen (b.1888), Johanne Poulsen (b.1893), Rasmus Poulsen (b.1898), Margarethe Poulsen (b.1895) and Christian Poulsen (b.1887). I'm estimating this photo to have been taken around 1915. That is based on their birth dates and the ages they seem to appear. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Maren Rasmussen (May 2, 1856 - June 2, 1941) married Soren Poulsen (June 19, 1859 - May 5, 1938) on July 29, 1882. The census records indicate the family lived in Aarhus, Denmark. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The Poulsens, had already experienced some of their children's passings. At the estimated time of this photo, they had a son, Rasmus Poulsen (Sept 26, 1884 - Nov 29, 1888) who had died at the age of 4. Then they had another son, again named Rasmus Poulsen who only lived a few weeks (Apr 1, 1889 - Apr 14, 1889). Then in 1902, their child Paul Cort Poulsen (Aug 24, 1882 - Aug 25, 1902) died, at the age of 20.<span class="dpdetails font13" id="ctl42_ctl00_deathDetails">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjTNYa6RVhPjoN7my4EnqWgRnUXowqLWJ1yHS1rF3P97kgfFEkpBdZ7eVj7K_MLUhTwdy7F8xMFQrR3QN1kzd_Lsi1_Vv_syFQXjKGm0K0VftCYSTfxA27J44upmP72Mqb24UT7bRDRy4/s1600/PoulsenHousehold.1901.Denmark.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjTNYa6RVhPjoN7my4EnqWgRnUXowqLWJ1yHS1rF3P97kgfFEkpBdZ7eVj7K_MLUhTwdy7F8xMFQrR3QN1kzd_Lsi1_Vv_syFQXjKGm0K0VftCYSTfxA27J44upmP72Mqb24UT7bRDRy4/s1600/PoulsenHousehold.1901.Denmark.jpg" height="128" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Here is the 1901 Denmark Census that shows the family. Father, Soren Poulsen, is working as a "thatcher". Mother, Maren, stayed in the home. This census shows where each of them were born. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I wonder what that gathering was for, in the photo above. They seem to be dressed in black. Well, mother is dressed in black. It's actually hard to tell the colors they are wearing with the black and white film.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">So on this Father's Day, I'm happy to be sharing a photo of a father and his children. A father that worked as a Thatcher, had eight children, lost at least three before him, and lived his life in Aarhus, Denmark.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Happy Father's Day, Soren Poulsen</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Warm regards, </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54490/191/4A366F8CED9B0BBD9A540B212C2FF1C0.png" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px;" /></a>Warm Regards . . .http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042937779959850800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5065773386769022654.post-19329553041729645862014-01-17T19:11:00.000-08:002014-01-17T21:08:43.187-08:00Friday Find ~ One Uncle, Three distinctly different names! Lesson on lost relatives <span style="font-size: large;"> I've known for many years that my Danish family immigrated to </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK83WPdX2OS11vmXzSRqP38w405g7pBApvAyMF2cobW7OOw0pFzksNcNM3MYPKb2YFqwBjYpS_uYwEGYJVSwzs5Wp3PyVz3XEWzS6bAGYFdzy8GWqvnF3RvUzKEaD9gpC-lhlTk5KC97Y/s1600/FrankMunson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK83WPdX2OS11vmXzSRqP38w405g7pBApvAyMF2cobW7OOw0pFzksNcNM3MYPKb2YFqwBjYpS_uYwEGYJVSwzs5Wp3PyVz3XEWzS6bAGYFdzy8GWqvnF3RvUzKEaD9gpC-lhlTk5KC97Y/s1600/FrankMunson.jpg" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">the United States in 1891. A few years ago I began searching to see if I could find them on manifest records. I was curious if they all came together or made separate trips. I was interested in my Great Grandparents, Andreas and Anna Rasmussen but today I was more interested in "Uncle Frank". The family was never clear, exactly, on the relationship of "<b>Uncle Frank Monsen</b>". I recall being told he was my great grandmother's (Anna Monsen) brother. But I can't find him in any Danish census or church records. I have found him here in U.S. Census's but I am more interested in his life prior to arriving in the U.S. So I was determined again to see what I could find. </span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7F94QrTQg8P8uCbRCQRdHcTnNfkzZm7ub2w0ODBUl1qBKobC8xNKP9ksSAcWFjBZqzRggR4dpg3TAp_65_g4T-zczFyEw1iyJN66HVysqfkWLlNUpUry3rdi41vkXIoVbSN-ph6pYH04/s1600/unclefrankintention.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/AVvXsEj7F94QrTQg8P8uCbRCQRdHcTnNfkzZm7ub2w0ODBUl1qBKobC8xNKP9ksSAcWFjBZqzRggR4dpg3TAp_65_g4T-zczFyEw1iyJN66HVysqfkWLlNUpUry3rdi41vkXIoVbSN-ph6pYH04/s1600/unclefrankintention.jpg" height="320" width="243" /></a> <span style="font-size: large;">After some hours of searching I found and looked closely at his "Declaration of Intention". What I saw was quite interesting. First the only reason I know this is him is because of the address he has listed. I know this is our family address in Los Angeles. By deduction of other family members and verifying the birth date listed this was "Uncle Frank". But the name listed was very different. It's states his name as <b>"Moyens Marius Magnusen"</b>. Not close at all to "Frank Monsen". This document also listed his date of arrival and the name of the ship he traveled on, so I began searching immigration passenger lists. But then I reviewed the Declaration document again and it clearly states he came through immigration with the name of<b> "Mayeno Mayunson"</b>. What? Why? Another very different name. So I go back to searching passenger lists on the British Prince that he traveled on. After scanning and scanning I find him. There is "Mayeno Mayunson" on the list. I look at other names on the manifest and can't locate any other family members. However, if they are traveling under a different name they may be there and I just don't know it. So as I read "Mayeno Mayuson's" information it shows he's only 10 years old and has one (1) piece of luggage. I wonder to myself how he can travel to a new country, on a huge immigration ship, all alone. I see his destination is listed as Independence, OH which coincides with where our family first settled upon arrival.</span> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEbcacJgI_-FPWj_4d1T6ThLOGiDGSoOKncsFiI5xAcG-GLElhDcW7vUHoCf_npf5soJ4XdXvvv1oQHYUbQQywaHXAB09EOul3K4KFOcpGBfIIzQDUVW1-bP9kcAiuTYjIslyfH2_GFYM/s1600/PhiladelphiaPassengerLists1800-1945.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEbcacJgI_-FPWj_4d1T6ThLOGiDGSoOKncsFiI5xAcG-GLElhDcW7vUHoCf_npf5soJ4XdXvvv1oQHYUbQQywaHXAB09EOul3K4KFOcpGBfIIzQDUVW1-bP9kcAiuTYjIslyfH2_GFYM/s1600/PhiladelphiaPassengerLists1800-1945.jpg" height="320" width="275" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">You can see his name here right below the center division black line. It was an amazing find for me. I can't determine what that word is in the "calling" column. It looks like "boy" but I'm not sure. I did more searching and also found an advertisement for these immigration journeys. I find the description of the voyage very fascinating. </span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnggbujde0kyfwZkDP_XhMGeJzSF9F-AID0LJyxLLcDzlsR91mUY__cSsVm9O5q_1M3mWUz0qNIjWi3wPt5Eu49tBxU1FDQpREW8C87qNwGIabHl-QTwuxfUR3YON6RjCs4RbSp0lX_8M/s1600/shipadvertisement.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/AVvXsEgnggbujde0kyfwZkDP_XhMGeJzSF9F-AID0LJyxLLcDzlsR91mUY__cSsVm9O5q_1M3mWUz0qNIjWi3wPt5Eu49tBxU1FDQpREW8C87qNwGIabHl-QTwuxfUR3YON6RjCs4RbSp0lX_8M/s1600/shipadvertisement.JPG" height="320" width="188" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">When searching for your relatives be very careful. Don't give up. Look very closely at all the documents. See if you can discover a secondary or even third name that your relative may have gone by. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So "Uncle Frank", or "Uncle Moyens"... no "Uncle Mayeno".. ugh.. he's my Uncle Frank who I remember well. As we all know about hindsight... if I only knew to ask him about his journey here, why did different names. I know Frank is a more Americanized name but why the second variation. I never realized he was only ten. I'm still determined to find more information on him in the Danish records although now I know he only lived in Denmark for ten years there won't be much. My thoughts are with you today Uncle Frank.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Warm regards, </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54490/191/4A366F8CED9B0BBD9A540B212C2FF1C0.png" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px;" /></a> Warm Regards . . .http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042937779959850800noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5065773386769022654.post-80095442577201916742013-12-24T10:48:00.001-08:002014-06-27T13:23:59.151-07:00Christmas Eve 2013<h1 class="pageTitle">
<span style="font-size: large;">Eleonora Hedvig Margrethe Brøkner <span style="font-weight: normal;">was my 2nd great grandmother. She was born 23 February 1827 in Skanderborg, Vele, Stouby, Denmark. She passed away just before Christmas on 22 December 1904 in Ungstrup, Torning, Viborg, Denmark. </span></span></h1>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> I never knew my great great grandmother Eleonora as she never left Denmark and she passed away many years before I was born. But I do have a picture of her. </span></span></h1>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-In3DU-WZ7Z9ftz7hQIOrxBUo6av2UUunqkTyaivMHmouArjWwlv7EFMrOCxi_ixJahvGB7Ewmc3FMCxaxF4WhItdYpmlGSzY2pp3aUOoeRcRQhiL1IfPSB_3is5x0ZTNnNJypjFMfAs/s1600/EleonoraBrochner.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/AVvXsEj-In3DU-WZ7Z9ftz7hQIOrxBUo6av2UUunqkTyaivMHmouArjWwlv7EFMrOCxi_ixJahvGB7Ewmc3FMCxaxF4WhItdYpmlGSzY2pp3aUOoeRcRQhiL1IfPSB_3is5x0ZTNnNJypjFMfAs/s200/EleonoraBrochner.jpg" height="200" width="151" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> If you look past her frown and her tired eyes, you will see a woman whose hair is neatly pinned back, she wearing some type of bonnet or hat with flowers and/or a ribbon. Also she looks bundled up with a scarf and/or high collar up around her neck. I have no date on this picture. I'm guessing mid-late1850's but that is only a guess. </span></span></h1>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYEn2Wg6EmP1_DLazdbZE259nmrzB3pHvJGM410D5K6RDqGLj6XTgxRUbVHHPbICg7F3WiYFzHAwKkmhf1kKfEQN8wwhhMvwrbhNTuzJae7ez9fmzg3pXS8DmaOxl74py32Ig9lM9H4XU/s1600/RasmusJensenUngstrup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYEn2Wg6EmP1_DLazdbZE259nmrzB3pHvJGM410D5K6RDqGLj6XTgxRUbVHHPbICg7F3WiYFzHAwKkmhf1kKfEQN8wwhhMvwrbhNTuzJae7ez9fmzg3pXS8DmaOxl74py32Ig9lM9H4XU/s200/RasmusJensenUngstrup.jpg" height="200" width="147" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> I do know she married Rasmus Jensen March 12, 1854 and this photo I have of her is taken from a photo I have of them together. When I think of her getting married at the age of 27 that seems old to me, for the times. But I am happy that she found someone to share her life with. </span></span></h1>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">So here's my great great grandfather. No smile, like my great great grandmother, a bit of tired eyes, neatly cut and combed hair. As I look at his neck I can't determine if that is his beard grown down around his neck (although I think it would be difficult to grow a beard that full there) or it's a furry neck warmer. It appears he has a jacket on. </span></span></h1>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Eleonora and Rasmus had seven children; Jens Rasmussen 1855- , Maren Rasmussen 1856-1941, Christine Rasmussen 1858- , Ane Rasmussen 1859 - , Christian Rasmussen 1861- , Clara Rasmussen 1867- , Andreas Rasmussen 1870-1949(my great grandfather). </span></span></h1>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">During the 1850's in Denmark brought to an end centuries of absolute monarchy. Danes could now form political parties, elect representatives to a parliament and were guaranteed freedom of religion, assembly and speech. Danish farmers, during this time, found it difficult with the low-priced grains offered in European markets by American and Russian exports. The Danes would turn to dairy and pork production. But agricultural change and the rise of industrialism were not enough to stop the rising anger and eventually one out of every ten Danes felt compelled to emigrate; most traveled to the United States.</span></span></h1>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">I think about Eleonora, in Denmark, in the 1850's, with seven children, and her husband Jensen out working, as we know, as a day laborer. Times must have been horribly tough but then again that's all they knew.</span></span></h1>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Eleonora's youngest son, Andreas (my great grandfather) at the age of 20, left Denmark and his parents in 1890 to find a better life in America. Eleonora would have been 63, saw her youngest leave, and might have known she would never see him again. But he traveled here and did what he set out to do. Began a new life and brought all the Danish traditions with him. </span></span></h1>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">So while I wonder what Christmas's were like for my great great grandparents in the 1850's. I wonder how the family managed with their mother passing away just days before Christmas. Here I sit over 150 years later, in another country, thinking of Eleonora and Rasmus. I would want her to know that her name, and the names of her children, have carried down for several generations. I would want her to know that some of her Danish traditions continue through songs, foods, stories and owning a Danish flag. </span></span></h1>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">So on this Christmas Eve I wish you, Eleonora and Rasmus, a very merry </span><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="da"><span class="hps">Glædelig jul. </span></span></span></span></h1>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="da"><span class="hps">Warm regards,</span></span></span></span></h1>
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<span class="dpdetails font13" id="ctl42_ctl00_deathDetails"><span class="place"></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="dpdetails font13" id="ctl42_ctl00_birthDetails"><span class="place">
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<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54490/191/4A366F8CED9B0BBD9A540B212C2FF1C0.png" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px;" /></a> Warm Regards . . .http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042937779959850800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5065773386769022654.post-3859657859465866532013-11-11T00:22:00.001-08:002013-11-11T00:23:29.344-08:00Veteran's Day Thanks<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">For this Veterans Day holiday I'd like to thank some members of my family who have served our Country. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtCCZyidV8QtNvcZqZlNfAFVJj-oFbBvVDKGgQbJMoBZVm-4oB7tvEQzVXl4VWOlSNAY3544PcGmBaUsiFl6Ny_aXnee3iNWPkKS5bSNpCTlWcK9VhDwu9lOp2DMwACamjjXZg3hOnf9c/s1600/WalterRichardBooth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtCCZyidV8QtNvcZqZlNfAFVJj-oFbBvVDKGgQbJMoBZVm-4oB7tvEQzVXl4VWOlSNAY3544PcGmBaUsiFl6Ny_aXnee3iNWPkKS5bSNpCTlWcK9VhDwu9lOp2DMwACamjjXZg3hOnf9c/s200/WalterRichardBooth.jpg" width="155" /></a><span style="font-size: small;">First, to my Father, <b>Walter Richard Booth</b> who served in the <b>U.S.Navy</b> in the mid 1940's. He was part of Acorn 25 and served on the USS Maryland. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">S2c: Seaman 2nd Class <br />HA2c: Hospital Apprentice Second Class
</span><span style="font-size: small;"><br />F2c: Fireman 2nd Class
</span><span style="font-size: small;"><br />F1c: Fireman 1st Class
</span><span style="font-size: small;"><br />Service School Completed: USNNCS, Farragut, Idaho</span>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">My first cousin, <b>James E. Booth</b> served in the <b>U.S. Army</b> in the Vietnam Wa<span style="font-size: small;">r. </span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">James enlisted at the young age of 19 yrs in 1968. </span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">He is currently living in California with is wife and is a proud father and grandfather. </span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Arthur C. Ferrier</b> was my 1st cousin 1x removed and served in the <b>Vietnam War </b>and was awarded the Air Medal.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"> The Air Medal was awarded to anyone who, while serving in any capacity in or with the
Armed Forces of the United States, have distinguished themselves by
meritorious achievement while participating </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"> in aerial flight.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> <b>John Arthur Ferrier,</b> was my third great grandfather. </span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">He served in the 86th Regiment Ohio Volunteer Infantry, Union Side of the<b> Civil War. </b></span></span></span></span><br />
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This regiment was organized at Camp Chase, Ohio, June 10th 1862, to
serve three months. It was mustered out September 25, 1862, by reason
of expiration of term of service.<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Andrew Jackson Ferrier,</b> was my third great grand uncle ( brother of John Arthur Ferrier - above). He also served in the <b>Civil War.</b> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">He was in the 2nd regiment, Pennsylvania Heavy Artillery, (112th volunteers). He was in Company K. He ranked in as a Private and his rank out was as a Private. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Warm regards, </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54490/191/4A366F8CED9B0BBD9A540B212C2FF1C0.png" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px;" /></a> Warm Regards . . .http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042937779959850800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5065773386769022654.post-81413739333120612412013-08-03T13:59:00.000-07:002013-08-03T14:07:50.111-07:00Sympathy Saturday ~ Daniel Barrett & Martha Dasho Barrett ~ Gruesome Deaths<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtiAeHvrL7G1h-U-lbu4v2t4y8wWsrb3yUlZhydSkNNxQ2ZrvERNEyoJCSvpWoUHwwuaAtUvUl_c4nBE_uqHL4m8OFzZSsYaNAoFYjX38UuxNws0UPcbwNMqpLDkt3MUonJxClCYdhVN8/s1600/DanielBarrett.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtiAeHvrL7G1h-U-lbu4v2t4y8wWsrb3yUlZhydSkNNxQ2ZrvERNEyoJCSvpWoUHwwuaAtUvUl_c4nBE_uqHL4m8OFzZSsYaNAoFYjX38UuxNws0UPcbwNMqpLDkt3MUonJxClCYdhVN8/s320/DanielBarrett.jpg" width="205" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> <b>This is a story of the death of my 4th Great Grand Aunt, <span style="color: white;">Martha Dasho Barrett</span>, and her husband, <span style="color: white;">Daniel Barrett</span>. They died a horrible death. Below are two articles that appeared at the time of their death detailing a vivid description of the events. </b></span><br />
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<span class="objectDescription"><span style="font-size: large;">Front page of the Tri-State Alliance
Pioneer, Ohio, Friday May 28, 1894 as reprinted in the Leader
Enterprise, Thursday, April 15, 1965.</span></span></div>
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<div style="color: #f3f3f3;">
<span style="font-size: small;">CYCLONE SWEPT! - Williams County Visited By A
Devastating Cyclone - Four Persons Killed and a Number Injured - Kunkle
the Scene of Terrible Desolation - Houses Laid in Ruins, Barns Leveled
and the Debris Strewn to the Winds - Dense Forests Mown Down as if by
Magic - Thousands of People Daily on the Scene Witnessing the Wonderful
Sight - Our Reporter Visits the Spot and Gives an Interesting
Description of the Storm Swept Region.</span></div>
<div style="color: #f3f3f3;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> Astronomers
tell us that the sun has passed through terrible convulsions during the
past week and that the disasters of wind and water are but the results
of these fiery throes culminating upon the earth. Be that as it may, a
few more such visitations would almost obliterate Williams County. The
intense, sickening heat of Thursday, May 17th, 1894, seemed to impress
many with the dread of a terrible something! About 5 P.M. the clouds
seemed to be centering west and in dense blackness with ominous streaks
of light moved easterly. </span></div>
<div style="color: #f3f3f3;">
<span style="font-size: small;">The first
indications of a cyclone were manifest on the farm of John Lantz where
the funnel-shaped cloud dipped down and struck the ground, plowing an
immense furrow through the cornfield and then on through the heavy
timber, tearing and rending trees and bushes like a giant playing with
straws.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">The huge destoyer scattered fences
and orchards till it reached the house on the Old Hazen farm which it
carried off as completely as if it were but a mere speck on the surface
of the earth. The tenants of the house were fortunately away from home,
else there would have been greater damage done than was. On it came
plowing its way through huge timbers, leaving a wide stretch of
desolation and ruin in its path, until it reached Basswood Corners, four
miles south of town, where it done some lively work. It first struck
Geo. Mercer's house, lifted it from its foundation and hurled it into
pieces, the ruins scattering over the site of the house, and the road.
Furniture was torn into atoms and the scene was a hard looking one. It
unroofed Sam'l. Barclay's house, leveled his large bank barn to the
ground, burying three horses in the midst of the debris. One was
instantly killed, but the other two were got out alive and almost
unhurt. Mr. Barclay's property is completely gone and it is hard for the
old couple as they were yet in debt on their place. The sympathy of the
people should take an active form in their case and endeavor to help
them out of their present difficulties. Mrs. Mercer, upon hearing the
terrible roar of falling timbers, ran out the east door of their house
and with her little child in her arms, threw herself flat on the ground.
The debris flew thick and fast around them but the child was unharmed
and the mother but slightly injured. The residence of Wm. Mowry was left
standing and that is all. Doors and windows and the greater portion of
the roof is gone, while immense splinters are sent through the siding
and plastering, penetrating the inside walls. His bank barn is levelled
to the basement and nothing but ruin prevails in that vicinity.</span></span><br />
<div style="color: #f3f3f3;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> Samuel
Andre's house narrowly escaped the great destruction, standing but a
few rods this side of the storm. His farm however got a small share of
it taking off the roof and the siding in places and generally
demolishing it. Another one of the provident escapes was that of seven
head of horses which stood in the barn not one of which was hurt. It was
a close call, however. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Straight onward
still in a north easterly direction it went, now raising a little and
again assailling the ground with terrible strength, until, upon reaching
Kunkle, storm-swept and desolate, ringing with the moans of the dying
victims, the intense excitement and the crowds gathered on the fatal
ground, the scene is a difficult one to describe. All the houses,
fences, trees and obstructions of all kinds in the path of the storm
were carried away and nothing is left to mark the spot where they stood,
but the direst desolation.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"> </span><b><span style="font-size: small;"> <span style="color: white;">The building in
which Daniel Barrett, his wife, and their granddaughters, Martha and
Myrta Daso, is so completely demolished that not even a portion of the
foundation is left. The first found remnants of the house were at least
100 rods from where it stood. Here began scattering timbers and further
on can be seen larger portions of the building and about 40 yards from
where it stood lies the roof, almost intact, together with portions of
the frame work.</span></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: small;"> Mrs. Barrett, who was
horribly mangled, was carried by the cyclone over a quarter of a mile
and dropped in the S. cemetery. Her dismembered limbs were found about
100 yards further on. There was very little left of the woman's body
that resembled the form of a human being. Her breast and abdomen were
rent in two, and her entrails, heart, and lungs were scattered broadcast
through three forty-five acre fields. The search for remains continued
nearly an hour before flesh half her weight was found. Daniel Barrett
was carried about 40 rods from where the cyclone struck him. His hand
was torn off at the wrist and scattered to the wind, one leg was beaten
into pulp, and he suffered internal injuries. He was still breathing
however, when found but died soon afterward without regaining
consciousness.</span></b></div>
<div style="color: white;">
<b><span style="font-size: small;"> Martha and Myrta Daso, who
were in another part of the house, were found near where the house
seemed to have gone to pieces. Martha, the eldest, aged 14, was injured
only about the head, which was crushed in on the left side, showing a
great hole from which the brain oozed mingled with blood. She is still
living however with the slightest chance of recovery.</span></b></div>
<div style="color: white;">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">The
younger sister, Myrta, age ten, lay almost in the arms of her sister
with almost every bone in her body broken, and ground into flesh.
Nothing could be done to relieve her suffering and little one died about
ten o'clock the same evening.</span></b></div>
<b><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></b><span style="font-size: small;"> <span style="color: #f3f3f3;">Geo. Oxenger,
a hired man of the Barrett's who was in the field plowing saw the storm
coming and made for the barn. He succeeded in getting his horses in the
barn, and had started for the house when the cyclone struck him, and
witnesses say that he was lifted from the ground and whirled into the
air at least a hundred feet, together with timbers, fences, trees and
other debris scooped up by the wonderful, irresistable current of death
and disaster. Oxenger's lifeless body was found about 100 rods from
where it was lifted into the air. The body was in a horrible condition,
bones protruding from the flesh, and from indications he must have come
into contact with many of the flying beams and trees. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"> Jas.
Whitla, another farm hand of the Barrett's, had a most miraculous
escape. He was in a field working with Oxenger, and with him started for
the barn, when his team became unmanageable and broke away from him.
They were afterward caught and were but slightly injured. When the team
ran away he started for the house but had just reached a rail fence near
a gate when the storm struck the barn and he fell upon his face
grasping the fence with one hand and with the other the gate. The gate
was demolished to the very bottom rail and the gate carried hundred of
rods, but the prostrate man lay unmoved. A huge apple tree was torn up
by the roots and a brick cellar laid flat to the ground within fifteen
feet of him, yet he came out with a bruised face and a few scratches. In
an interview with our reporter he gave the following experience with
the raging elements. He said: "Oxenger and I were plowing in a field
about a quarter of a mile from the barn when we saw the storm coming. It
looked like a huge funnel, its irregularly formed upper half revolving
rapidly, while the lower half swept the earth dealing death and
destruction from its mighty arm, leaving a wide path of desolation in
its wake, and transforming what was but a moment before a prosperous
little group of farm buildings into a scene of devastation and sorrow.
It seemed to be so unreliable in its course that we did not know which
way to go to escape it. Finally we decided to seek shelter in the barn.
Oxenger got to the barn but my team broke away from me and left me free.
By this time the storm was so near that it was like the roaring of
Niagara and the heat was sickeningly intense. When I saw the barn go up I
knew my only salvation would be in throwing myself flat on the ground. I
threw myself in a hole and grasped the lower part of the fence. The
fence was torn from me but I dug my fingers deep in the earth and knew
no more for a time. The barn, cow shed, and horses must have passed over
me, and when I arose my face was plastered with mud. The last I
remember was dim recollection or realization of seeing the house swept
from its foundation and thrown into atoms over the place."</span></span><br />
<div style="color: #f3f3f3;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> Just
across the road from the Barrett residence stood a log and frame
structure occupied by Charles Moore and wife, a young couple but a short
time married. The forepart of the structure remains standing, every log
in its place, but the roof has departed for an unknown land, and the
back part of the frame is gone to the foundation. Not a piece of
crockery, a carpet, a bed-quilt, or any other article of bedding or
clothing which was in the house was left, but a few could be found
decorating the forest a half mile or so further in the course of the
storm.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"> As destiny would have it, it was in
the back part of the house where the young man and his wife took refuge,
and while the last they can remember they were together holding the
door shut, they were picked up far apart, she having been thrown in a
little swamp several rods from the house and he in a pile of debris in
another direction. A new barn is completely gone, the heavy timbers
thrown for acres around, and a light shed close by is scarcely touched.
Moore had tied his team to a post near the barn and the horses were
swept along like straws before the death dealing storm. From one horse
the strong new harness was stripped off as neatly as if it had been cut,
while parts of it was strewn over the entire field. One horse was
buried under a mass of beams from an adjoining corn crib and killed
outright, while the other laid about ten rods further on, so badly
injured that it was killed to end its sufferings. Oxenger's team, which
was put in Barrett's barn escaped with scarcely a scratch. A hog pen
containing seven shoats stood in a lane several rods to the north of
Barrett's barn. They help add to the list of the dead, and all that can
be found of pen or pigs is one dead porker which lay stretched directly
over the site of the barn. The ground on either side of the storm was
covered with featherless fowls, grain, etc., and close to Moore's barn
laid a disemboweled cow. A calf was lifted up and carried across the
woods, a distance of nearly a mile and dropped, rather dumpy but still
alive and likely to be.</span></span><br />
<div style="color: #f3f3f3;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> Farther on in the
course of the storm at the point where the funnel-shaped cloud rose from
the ground, the debris seems to be as thick as further back, hence it
is presumed that much of the stuff went up in the clouds. Everything for
miles back has vanished as if by magic. </span></div>
<div style="color: #f3f3f3;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> Samuel
Hollenbaugh and his wife who were in their house about two miles
further north escaped death by seeking refuge in their cellar. One half
of their house was left standing almost untouched. Miss Jennie Greek who
was teaching in that district and boarding there was in the portion
left standing and sustained slight injuries. Further west, Mr. and Mrs.
Oliver <i>Coy?</i> stood in their back door and saw all their barns, other buildings and windmill carried up into the air. </span><span style="font-size: small;">A
house containing some pet rabbits, rabbits within six feet of where
they stood went with the rest, while hardly a breeze touched them. Two
or more of the farm houses, a saw mill, and a number of barns are
reported carried away, but no other persons are hurt. The path of the
storm can be easily followed its entire course by the roofless barns,
decapitated windmills and fallen forests. </span></div>
<div style="color: #f3f3f3;">
<span style="font-size: small;">The
whirling cloud seemed to go very slowly in its forward course and gave
many people a good chance to get out of its way who would otherwise have
been killed. It is estimated that it took at least 15 minutes to go its
last mile, the mile which dealt death in its most terrible form,
filling the air with flying debris, in which were fragments of human
flesh, horses, cattle, furniture, trees, farming implements, etc. All
propelled by a most wonderful, irresistible current of ruin and
disaster. The course it took seemed to be somewhat zig-zag, and rolled
from left to right, as well as upward on its onward course. It visited
the cemetery south of Moore's house, leaving there the mangled remains
of Mrs. Barrett, and making sad havoc with the grave stones. People for
miles on either side of the storm could hear its roar and climbed on
house-tops and other places of eminence to witness the moving avalanche
which carried everything before it. To add to the scene of desolation,
the rain fell in torrents. Where at noon stood finely growing fields of
wheat now stood fields of water. All wheat and like vegetation is mown
close as if by a scythe. </span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"> <span style="color: #f3f3f3;">The dead victims
of the terrible phenomenon were all buried last Saturday, May 19th,
while the wounded are gaining. The Daso girl has regained consciousness
and may recover, while Mr. and Mrs. Moore are both doing well. A good
deal of sympathy is manifest among the people for the sufferers, and
what is better they are offering substantial aid in the shape of
"cyclone fund" meetings all over the county.</span></span><br />
<div style="color: #f3f3f3;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> Thousands
have witnessed the scene of disaster since last Thursday, and whispers
of wonder and awe at the scene are heard on all sides. It is, indeed, a
miracle that many more were not victims of this awful messenger of death
and destruction. Williams County never wishes another such an
experience.</span></div>
<div style="color: #f3f3f3;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> Help for the sufferers, a
numbers of families in this, the worst disaster that ever visited
Northern Ohio, have been stripped of everything. Homes, furniture,
bedding, clothing, eatables, etc., and believing there are many who feel
it would be the spirit of human kindness to help these distressed ones
we have concluded to open up a Bureau of Relief for the cyclone
sufferers and all sums of money sent to the Tri-State Alliance will be
placed in the hands of a relief committee and the names of the donors
with amount given will be published in the next week's Alliance. Now if
you have any real sympathy for these suffering ones respond as the heart
wills.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"></span><br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">Kunkle, Ohio Tornado </span></span><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"> </span><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Courier New; font-size: large;">May 18, 1894</span></b><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'trebuchet ms','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt;"> <span style="color: #f3f3f3;">THE OHIO CYCLONE Further Details of the Terrible Cyclone in Ohio. KUNKLE, O., May 19.</span></span></b><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: 'trebuchet ms','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt;">
--- Four persons were killed and two others fatally injured in a great
cyclone which passed through the farming district a short distance from
here yesterday afternoon. <b>The dead are </b></span><b style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt;"> DANIEL BARRETT </span></b><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt;"> and wife,</span></b><b style="color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt;"><b> MARTHA DASHO</b> </span></b><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: 'trebuchet ms','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt;"> and</span><b style="color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt;"> GEORGE OXINGER, CHARLES COLE </span></b><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: 'trebuchet ms','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt;"> and wife will both die.</span><br />
<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<div style="color: #f3f3f3;">
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt;"> <b>For
a distance of six miles a strip a quarter of a mile wide is laid in
waste. Houses, fence lands trees are all destroyed. There is not even a
trace left of the </b></span><b><b><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt;"> BARRETT</span></b><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt;"> house. The body of </span><b><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt;"> MRS. BARRETT </span></b><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt;"> was carried almost half a mile, being terribly managled.</span></b></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<div style="color: #f3f3f3;">
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt;"> At
Alliance the storm was the worst experienced in years. The wind blew
over sixty miles an hour. Much minor damage is reported. At Cleveland,
thousands of windows were broken by hail and many runaways were caused.
The damage amounts to several thousand dollars.</span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<div style="color: #f3f3f3;">
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt;"> The revised count of dead and injured by the Kunkle tornado shows four dead and three fatally injured. The fatally injured are: </span><b><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt;"> MARTHA DAZE,</span></b><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt;"> skull fractured;</span><b><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt;"> CHARLES MOORE, </span></b><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt;"> aged 25 both hips dislocated, several ribs broken and internally injured;</span><b><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt;"> MRS. ELLA MOORE, </span></b><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt;"> his wife, serious bodily injuries.</span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<div style="color: #f3f3f3;">
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt;"> These are all expected to die. Besides these casualties, </span><b><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt;"> MRS. ELLA EVANS,</span></b><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt;">
who lives a mile east of the track of the tornado, is missing. She
started from Kunkle for home an hour before the tornado struck and has
not yet been heard of.</span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<div style="color: #f3f3f3;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt;"> One
of the most gruesome incidents was the finding of a gory human heart
lying in the cemetery between two overturned tombstones. It belonged to</span><b><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt;"> MRS. BARRETT,</span></b><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt;"> whose body was torn to pieces and distributed over three 40 acre fields.</span></b></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<div style="color: #f3f3f3;">
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt;"> The
tornado passed through only the southern edge of the village, levelling
everything south of the tracks of the Detroit division of the Wabash,
which passes through the place. Much small damage was done to houses in
the main part of the village, however. Had the storm gone 200 yards
further north it would have utterly wiped out Kunkle and killed the
greater portion of the people.</span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54490/191/4A366F8CED9B0BBD9A540B212C2FF1C0.png" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px;" /></a> Warm Regards . . .http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042937779959850800noreply@blogger.com3Kunkle, OH 43501, USA41.6367174 -84.49522669999998916.114682900000002 -125.80382069999999 67.1587519 -43.18663269999999tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5065773386769022654.post-49980947654504554792013-05-26T13:03:00.000-07:002013-05-26T13:40:12.220-07:00Memorial Day Monday - Andrew Jackson Ferrier and the Civil War, 1861 - 1865<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIw2U_ria0QdV8xeHvA8JSWvjVbpgjHMyQwMLI0Xr6HCU5j_qZ-BogIbEplXthRB3VnuOI5rI_JWqzDF3IaA5wD9ChJaVCGZFjhB5YT5TNvqCx_SUTfXraS17YJbWnPY5pMpE6fB4AkRU/s1600/memorialday.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/AVvXsEjIw2U_ria0QdV8xeHvA8JSWvjVbpgjHMyQwMLI0Xr6HCU5j_qZ-BogIbEplXthRB3VnuOI5rI_JWqzDF3IaA5wD9ChJaVCGZFjhB5YT5TNvqCx_SUTfXraS17YJbWnPY5pMpE6fB4AkRU/s1600/memorialday.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Memorial Day</b> is a United States federal holiday which occurs every year on the final Monday of May. <sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-1"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Memorial_Day#cite_note-1"></a></sup>Memorial Day is a day of remembering the men and women who died while serving in the United States Armed Forces. <sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-2"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Memorial_Day#cite_note-2"></a></sup> Formerly known as Decoration Day, it originated after the American Civil War to commemorate the Union and Confederate soldiers who died in the Civil War. By the 20th century, Memorial Day
had been extended to honor all Americans who have died while in the
military service. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">On this Memorial Day Monday I'm going to celebrate and honor my 3rd Great Grand Uncle, <b>Andrew Jackson Ferrier</b>. I wish I had a photo of him, but I don't.</span> </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">If my genealogical records are accurate I show he was born in 1830 in Harrison, Ohio and died on 4 February, 1919 in Lincoln, Nebraska.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">On 23 May, 1852, at the age of 22, he married Catherine Mercer in Williams, Ohio. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">About ten years later the Civil War was in process and that's when began serving as a Union Soldier. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Below is the record indicating more specific information on his role in the Civil War. </span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> <a href="http://www.ancestry.com/search/db.aspx?dbid=1138&enc=1" style="text-decoration: none;" title="Learn more about the U.S. Civil War Soldiers, 1861-1865">U.S. Civil War Soldiers, 1861-1865</a>
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="about">about</span> Andrew J. Ferrier</span></span></div>
<div id="record-header">
<h2>
</h2>
</div>
<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="p_resultTable" style="width: 100%px;"><tbody>
<tr>
<th>Name:</th>
<td><span class="srchHit">Andrew J. Ferrier</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<th>Side:</th>
<td>Union</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<th>Regiment State/Origin:</th>
<td>Pennsylvania</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<th>Regiment Name:</th>
<td>2 Pennsylvania H. Art'y.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<th>Regiment Name Expanded:</th>
<td>2nd Regiment, Pennsylvania Heavy Artillery (112th Volunteers)</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<th>Company:</th>
<td>K</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<th>Rank In:</th>
<td>Private</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<th>Rank In Expanded:</th>
<td>Private</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<th>Rank Out:</th>
<td>Private</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<th>Rank Out Expanded:</th>
<td>Private</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<th>Film Number:</th>
<td>M554 roll 36</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim-OziMma_SiJh74KLnc-E4ftSL4JOgQwwv_yMehE47nLZ5c6-zdIvu2WnkhCCwZc_NVJAY00a9J0oexE91ZNACQuXtb-ReZIb3bzGaXUCMRk9gQiFt1wzcIm27d-8zw1t0TXB2H6yoTY/s1600/HeavyArtillery.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim-OziMma_SiJh74KLnc-E4ftSL4JOgQwwv_yMehE47nLZ5c6-zdIvu2WnkhCCwZc_NVJAY00a9J0oexE91ZNACQuXtb-ReZIb3bzGaXUCMRk9gQiFt1wzcIm27d-8zw1t0TXB2H6yoTY/s1600/HeavyArtillery.jpg" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"> It shows he was responsible for using "heavy artillery". During the Civil War "heavy artillery" or <i>Siege and garrison artillery</i> were heavy pieces that could be used either in attacking or defending fortified places. The weight and size of siege artillery prevented it from regularly traveling with the armies. When needed, siege artillery and other
material needed for siege operations were assembled into what was called
a siege train and transported to the army. In the American Civil War, the siege train
was always transported to the area of the siege by water.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">My Uncle Andrew Ferrier died at the age of 89 on 4 February 1919.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="p_resultTable" style="width: 100%px;"><tbody>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;">Warm regards, </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54490/191/4A366F8CED9B0BBD9A540B212C2FF1C0.png" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px;" /></a> Warm Regards . . .http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042937779959850800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5065773386769022654.post-21575872032302525512013-01-07T23:21:00.000-08:002014-06-27T13:25:54.030-07:00Surgeon's Certificate ~ Sheridan Dean<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVjSJDmNN0YUlE8ykrwHQKB5Q3hb1or6Rv_Dg7-MBZx7A9R1qJt4mDkJg0Hjlzvz2LS9Ckr0Cn4Puq88nFpGxBi9DMstxzvjakAprKkBX8-baBQ2o3M9rLA0vGZIcp-PDnKLuj6HvHrSY/s1600/sheridandeansurgeon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVjSJDmNN0YUlE8ykrwHQKB5Q3hb1or6Rv_Dg7-MBZx7A9R1qJt4mDkJg0Hjlzvz2LS9Ckr0Cn4Puq88nFpGxBi9DMstxzvjakAprKkBX8-baBQ2o3M9rLA0vGZIcp-PDnKLuj6HvHrSY/s640/sheridandeansurgeon.jpg" height="640" width="464" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I find this diagram posted here very interesting. The fact that we even have a copy of it I think is amazing. My Booth family cousin found it online and I haven't seen one like it before. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I'm having a difficult time reading it and determining why this surgeons certificate was needed. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">One thing I do know is that Sheridan Dean, the subject of this Surgeon's Certificate, is my 2nd great grandfather. </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Warm regards, </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54490/191/4A366F8CED9B0BBD9A540B212C2FF1C0.png" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px;" /></a> Warm Regards . . .http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042937779959850800noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5065773386769022654.post-41242920991470853062012-11-11T13:46:00.002-08:002012-11-11T13:52:42.245-08:00Sentimental Sunday ~ Remembering my Father Walter R. Booth on Veteran's Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRBnKezfejo2TJUsip2GWTIJQN7h9tNAegjyNGLQXBf7jErZbMXoXdc_-jhMrKcK9JYFkoK2-JSrySE8UPpuNqH1vdYiNogx361zaM2hsX8ToE9Np8q_tJmDmytpSzm1FviniXK08gR5Q/s1600/WalterRichardBooth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRBnKezfejo2TJUsip2GWTIJQN7h9tNAegjyNGLQXBf7jErZbMXoXdc_-jhMrKcK9JYFkoK2-JSrySE8UPpuNqH1vdYiNogx361zaM2hsX8ToE9Np8q_tJmDmytpSzm1FviniXK08gR5Q/s200/WalterRichardBooth.jpg" width="156" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Walter Richard Booth was born on August 24, 1925 in Los Angeles, CA to Walter Booth and Esther (nee Ferrier) Booth. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">At the age of 5 yrs he lived at 5524 Meridian Street, Los Angeles with his parents and one younger brother James. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The family moved and in 1935 - 1940 Walter lived with his family on West 107th Street in Los Angeles, By then he had three younger brothers; James, Thomas, and Jerry. </span><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAK4Szs_D2r0J1i1VI4GsoFF3y52cdUarnrBSDikLWDDw6W-2qIOKUCFA7L0JftR5fY2LjXaI5vByIG6XWpu8AD9aW74oYAi-Kd1D1xIwuVi-C681ifuBu6TA51ZeFIstZCbrhSa9GNIo/s1600/WalterBooth.U.S.Navy+001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAK4Szs_D2r0J1i1VI4GsoFF3y52cdUarnrBSDikLWDDw6W-2qIOKUCFA7L0JftR5fY2LjXaI5vByIG6XWpu8AD9aW74oYAi-Kd1D1xIwuVi-C681ifuBu6TA51ZeFIstZCbrhSa9GNIo/s200/WalterBooth.U.S.Navy+001.jpg" width="156" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">In the mid-40's, during WWII my father served in the U. S. Navy. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">His DD214 reflects the following; </span><br />
<br />
<h2>
<a href="http://trees.ancestry.com/pt/ViewStory.aspx?oid=32817597-a59c-405c-ae7f-0d018dea44f7&vid=3868639c-0a71-40c6-95b0-79efea593b26&tid=13023437&pid=-138779620&pg=32768%2c49&pgpl=pid%2cpid%7cvid" id="rpt_objects_ctl03_titleLink">U.S. Naval Service</a>
</h2>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Los Angeles, California</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Los Angeles County Ratings Held: </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">S2c: Seaman 2nd Class </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">HA2c: Hospital Apprentice Second Class </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">F2c: Fireman 2nd Class </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">F1c: Fireman 1st Class </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Service School Completed: USNNCS, Farragut, Idaho </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Service (Vessels and Stations Served On): Acorn 25, US Nav.Adv.Base Russels, USS Maryland </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Character of Separation: Under Honorable Conditions </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEUX1itjfu2yz89GczYlPFXAIzPkKn4VBfh9xOeFY-VJIHYvYdGt9Ih2BZz-U3BZuJanuBAaKyOWVc8Wq1msXj7j0gUqdKQnb5h765r0pyoTxp_kLWyKqy_xS4ZUOIYyxagfh15Ci06UY/s1600/WaltBoothUSSMaryland.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="203" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEUX1itjfu2yz89GczYlPFXAIzPkKn4VBfh9xOeFY-VJIHYvYdGt9Ih2BZz-U3BZuJanuBAaKyOWVc8Wq1msXj7j0gUqdKQnb5h765r0pyoTxp_kLWyKqy_xS4ZUOIYyxagfh15Ci06UY/s320/WaltBoothUSSMaryland.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">He spent time on the USS Maryland which was (BB-46), a Colorado-class battleship, was the third ship of
the United States Navy to be named in honor of the seventh state. Maryland steamed from San Pedro, California on 13 January 1944,
rendezvoused with Task Force 53 (TF 53) at Hawaii, and sailed in time to
be in position off the well-fortified Kwajalein Atoll in the Marshall
Islands on the morning of 31 January. Assigned to reduce pillboxes and
blockhouses on Roi Island, the old battleship fired splendidly all day
and again the following morning until the assault waves were within 500
yd (460 m) of the beach. Following the operation, she steamed back to
Bremerton, Washington, for new guns and an overhaul.Two months later,
Maryland, again readied for battle, sailed westward on 5 May to
participate in the biggest campaign yet attempted in the Pacific war -
Saipan. Vice Admiral Richmond K. Turner allotted TF 52 three days to
soften up the island before the assault. Firing commenced 0545 on 14
June. Silencing two coastal guns, Maryland encountered little opposition
as she delivered one devastating barrage after another. The Japanese
attempted to strike back through the air. On 18 June, the ship's guns
claimed their first victim but four days later a Mitsubishi G4M "Betty"
sneaked in flying low over the still-contested Saipan hills and found
two anchored battleships. Crossing the bow of Pennsylvania, she dropped a
torpedo which opened a gaping hole in Maryland's portside bow.
Casualties were light, and in 15 minutes she was underway for Eniwetok,
shortly thereafter arriving at the repair yards at Pearl Harbor.</span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv-fAlApUocn9UjQTE7Kin0uSphXlCr9hsiXX2Hu4mJZy1TjEHwcWKq3cbrdX5TZUJK3o_DFlOkLgoAs5XX8YdawijAs3kRxiiKnWTXVJvTji7bAlANMH02NJ7t6PC6snlJF0XAUfcmxw/s1600/Norma.Walt.8..25.50.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv-fAlApUocn9UjQTE7Kin0uSphXlCr9hsiXX2Hu4mJZy1TjEHwcWKq3cbrdX5TZUJK3o_DFlOkLgoAs5XX8YdawijAs3kRxiiKnWTXVJvTji7bAlANMH02NJ7t6PC6snlJF0XAUfcmxw/s1600/Norma.Walt.8..25.50.jpg" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">When he was finished with the service he met and married my mother, Norma Rasmussen. They were married on August 25, 1950. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">They were married for 24 years. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Both my parents are gone now and I miss them very much. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I love you Daddy ... Happy Veteran's Day</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">With much love to you both, </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54490/191/4A366F8CED9B0BBD9A540B212C2FF1C0.png" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px;" /></a></div>
Warm Regards . . .http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042937779959850800noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5065773386769022654.post-73480056817832402722012-10-28T11:17:00.001-07:002012-10-28T11:24:33.428-07:00Sentimental Sunday - Graveyards & Headstones Facing East<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvz_nd3ubKM7T4rleo85ihsrB_thEoZ4hIfHgAVjk5beqy-kyAiHGuge-9w0qw-TxcTeQU1ywVhEgVmK_66tWEcTxvyBlzwiGsnuNGULOaeie-Qoj7T0oBcjeRtOErRQVaXrOi-xN9h1U/s1600/Mt.Wollaston.Cemetery.MA.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvz_nd3ubKM7T4rleo85ihsrB_thEoZ4hIfHgAVjk5beqy-kyAiHGuge-9w0qw-TxcTeQU1ywVhEgVmK_66tWEcTxvyBlzwiGsnuNGULOaeie-Qoj7T0oBcjeRtOErRQVaXrOi-xN9h1U/s320/Mt.Wollaston.Cemetery.MA.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I really enjoy visiting graveyards - as I'm sure many do. There are some who find it odd but I don't think they understand the abundant stories that a graveyard tells. All those lives from the past ~ the nostalgia. I feel for all that are buried. I wonder about their lives. The babies and children that have been buried and what their mother's must have been feeling at the time of their death. The impact that a child's death had on the entire family. I wonder about those that have died at various times of their lives. Sometimes I pick an interesting grave marker and research the person. I find out about their family and see if I can learn a bit about their life. It's fascinating to me. It makes me feel a bit connected to them. It gives me such a sentimental feeling. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">While doing some research I found an interesting article at "The Association for Gravestones Studies" website www.gravestonestudies.org I found this very interesting and something I wasn't aware of ... so I thought I'd share it. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<div class="MainText">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>What is the origin of the practice of
all headstones facing east?</i></span></div>
<div class="MainText">
<span style="font-size: large;">In many, but by no means all, early New
England burying grounds the graves are positioned
east/west. This east/west orientation is the most common
orientation in other parts of the country and world as
well. The earliest settlers had their feet pointing toward
the east and the head of the coffin toward the west, ready
to rise up and face the "new day" (the sun) when "the
trumpet shall sound and the dead shall be raised" or when
Christ would appear and they would be reborn. If the body
was positioned between the headstone and the footstone, with
the inscriptions facing outward, the footstone might
actually be facing east and the decorated face of the
headstone facing west. If the headstone inscription faces
east, the body would most commonly be buried to the east of
it. Much depends on the layout of the graveyard -- if there
was a church or other building in the center of the burial
site, where the high ground was located, the location of
access roads, etc. Early graves were seldom in the neat
rows that we are used to seeing. Burials were more
haphazard, more medieval in their irregularity; families
didn't own plots and burial spaces were often reused. The
north side of the cemetery was considered less desirable and
is often the last part of the burying ground to be used, or
you may find the north side set aside for slaves, servants,
suicides, "unknowns," etc. In many burial grounds graves
face all four points on the compass. Sometimes a hilly site
will have stones facing all four directions. With the
coming of the Rural Cemetery Movement in the 1830s and 40s,
an entirely new style of burial became popular. The ideal
of winding roads and irregular terrain dictated the
orientation of the monuments to a large degree.</span></div>
<div class="MainText">
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Warm Regards, </span></div>
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54490/191/4A366F8CED9B0BBD9A540B212C2FF1C0.png" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px;" /></a></div>
Warm Regards . . .http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042937779959850800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5065773386769022654.post-27942525592994786052012-09-07T23:15:00.003-07:002012-09-13T06:27:24.079-07:00Sepia Saturday ~ Elsie, Esther & John Ferrier<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgECO_bQd7tSFZxjImykOhkKSOYaXIQHUXL9m1JazhPC7DveHoYeO7aw0mLXIrq9mKwMNpGXATn8zRsZcH5yPBCbowcd879G_C_xF2avbvkSIe6_v-oKLVPnq2bDRZEC1gt0ltEhoBhXBY/s1600/SepiaSat.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hea="true" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgECO_bQd7tSFZxjImykOhkKSOYaXIQHUXL9m1JazhPC7DveHoYeO7aw0mLXIrq9mKwMNpGXATn8zRsZcH5yPBCbowcd879G_C_xF2avbvkSIe6_v-oKLVPnq2bDRZEC1gt0ltEhoBhXBY/s200/SepiaSat.bmp" width="147" /></a></div>
<strong><span style="font-size: large;">While looking at the photo for todays Sepia Saturday I got a feeling that these three individuals were siblings. They are dressed very nice with gloves on the women's hands and I love the hats poised so nicely on their heads while the man is holding his. </span></strong><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><strong><span style="font-size: large;">I looked through my family photos and couldn't find any with the subjects dressed as nicely. But I did find a set of siblings who look pretty stylish. The three siblings I have posted here are my grandmother, her sister (my great aunt) and their brother (my great uncle). These photos are taking during the 1920s some time. My grandmother and her sister have their hats on. If you look closely you can see the purses they are carrying. While my grandmother (on the left) is carrying a box-type purse my aunt has a satchel bag. It's very cute. Both have wraps. My grandmother's like a shawl and my aunt a fur wrap.</span> </strong><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmeE2bxASbbThp-EUHUZ97-HME-pPu3osvHndHbFW11ZHTPjr8yRPMwpwx3jJwI1vNIKoFe95HJL-eNjG5QMzkIXxvMWxh11a1DUKYjWgstkDa5aAKXe_4Rsgn1S846jnTYmL9F_XIE2A/s1600/JohnFerrier.abt.1920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hea="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmeE2bxASbbThp-EUHUZ97-HME-pPu3osvHndHbFW11ZHTPjr8yRPMwpwx3jJwI1vNIKoFe95HJL-eNjG5QMzkIXxvMWxh11a1DUKYjWgstkDa5aAKXe_4Rsgn1S846jnTYmL9F_XIE2A/s320/JohnFerrier.abt.1920.jpg" width="171" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">John Ferrier</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN6pew0jXLQgOctJAw3Ocrdgf1exDQXKBHTiDe57Wnvxe8ePZbyB-Ssf62GZD_VbZx9a52f_H1buHAYEwOHTAOhrs3fDqsfhFPzyHQVuOWcnGF3rn4aq-S-alFHzOVHzJ68QETtYJj13o/s1600/Esther.Ferrier.abt.1920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hea="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN6pew0jXLQgOctJAw3Ocrdgf1exDQXKBHTiDe57Wnvxe8ePZbyB-Ssf62GZD_VbZx9a52f_H1buHAYEwOHTAOhrs3fDqsfhFPzyHQVuOWcnGF3rn4aq-S-alFHzOVHzJ68QETtYJj13o/s320/Esther.Ferrier.abt.1920.jpg" width="184" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Esther (nee Ferrier) Booth - my grandmother</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKS4XBCY_8orHC8Yc8PtLtjQXcqzU7s1LGFXrZDCmEXE5Sn5fHRPR8gPHeL9GzuAaNLtDhxyQJujdPE6_vPKOpdzOE-PAJ2kOseeCvc39C_ZxqCnt2GI0mu2y-WNweQFgVsRzzOZnxxus/s1600/Elsie.Ferrier.1920s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hea="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKS4XBCY_8orHC8Yc8PtLtjQXcqzU7s1LGFXrZDCmEXE5Sn5fHRPR8gPHeL9GzuAaNLtDhxyQJujdPE6_vPKOpdzOE-PAJ2kOseeCvc39C_ZxqCnt2GI0mu2y-WNweQFgVsRzzOZnxxus/s320/Elsie.Ferrier.1920s.jpg" width="185" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elsie (nee Ferrier) Williams</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<strong><span style="font-size: large;">I'm not sure where the photo of my grandmother is taken but it looks like my aunt and uncle are standing in front of their home at 1109 N. Westmoreland, Los Angeles, California.</span> </strong></div>
</div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Warm Regards, </span></div>
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54490/191/4A366F8CED9B0BBD9A540B212C2FF1C0.png" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px;" /></a></div>
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Warm Regards . . .http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042937779959850800noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5065773386769022654.post-89719337034037593662012-08-29T10:28:00.000-07:002014-06-27T13:30:19.437-07:00Wednesday's Child ~ Grace Sherwood Allen <span style="font-size: large;">Grace Sherwood Allen (not a relative of mine) was a child of William H. and Emily J. Allen. She was born on June 5, 1876 and lived at 11 Wellington Street, Boston, Suffolk County, Massachusetts. Grace died November 11, 1880, shortly before her 5th birthday, of whopping cough. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">While meandering through this graveyard in Massachusetts I found her buried at Forest Hills Cemetery and Cremetory in Jamaica Plain, Suffolk County, Massachusetts. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">This is the most unusual child tombstone I've ever seen. I am assuming that enclosed statue is Grace. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim7OxVcK_jnDMfGOh4qhM1hAXRYXiKaoufgfaMxdpG_3XRMOfCI5k8i6M1Yi4CVcZoZ3624HceX0O-Hwa7HFvBENn09xRmxxUUs2y_jumy8rfAYp289T-0GDqd3WDunJAeQZv_eBwLoe4/s1600/childinglass.2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim7OxVcK_jnDMfGOh4qhM1hAXRYXiKaoufgfaMxdpG_3XRMOfCI5k8i6M1Yi4CVcZoZ3624HceX0O-Hwa7HFvBENn09xRmxxUUs2y_jumy8rfAYp289T-0GDqd3WDunJAeQZv_eBwLoe4/s320/childinglass.2.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6SyVwEppajeGyPZfNfnh_jvHSMSjoI_4S0g-XrP1DYRu4YU1rwin_By9sCm2tt7lkIHNYhEEjCLJLncVq4NX9Te4lwVosOAXjMttfitPDbkXPf7G-1P3dEFEgWDRocRmlsG2ei_5aVFo/s1600/childinglass.1.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/AVvXsEg6SyVwEppajeGyPZfNfnh_jvHSMSjoI_4S0g-XrP1DYRu4YU1rwin_By9sCm2tt7lkIHNYhEEjCLJLncVq4NX9Te4lwVosOAXjMttfitPDbkXPf7G-1P3dEFEgWDRocRmlsG2ei_5aVFo/s320/childinglass.1.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_GlBRNDiecMyklSefVGLZQZaKmra1M4iDrXnas5yLB8761DCF4r0uR5v_95_Z1AwfUhtVRlSw8JCFhaEu-YkJ8bzXOKFbzo73BQAehyphenhyphenGtt8UqVbOSTFHpPbuBP2g7Z79wUd5SPOjBcSQ/s1600/childinglass.3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_GlBRNDiecMyklSefVGLZQZaKmra1M4iDrXnas5yLB8761DCF4r0uR5v_95_Z1AwfUhtVRlSw8JCFhaEu-YkJ8bzXOKFbzo73BQAehyphenhyphenGtt8UqVbOSTFHpPbuBP2g7Z79wUd5SPOjBcSQ/s320/childinglass.3.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Warm Regards, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54490/191/4A366F8CED9B0BBD9A540B212C2FF1C0.png" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px;" /></a>Warm Regards . . .http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042937779959850800noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5065773386769022654.post-72164571369880567842012-08-28T08:23:00.000-07:002012-09-13T06:15:43.238-07:00Tombstone Tuesday ~ Elsie DeWinter Mulder<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4WCnuA5zi-1XXMD3wAGMrbRNYlmUgTRIGOJp5LD0H7u2w16p5iWSUUMgb6oxNhsckZADm7lZUR2xMHpnF382KXAq2QcSst2gXSeVU5INSzXGumCAQoPXTgTm_ZZjXlWZ0-awM5vywSaM/s1600/12833591_113608273091%5B1%5D+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: right; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4WCnuA5zi-1XXMD3wAGMrbRNYlmUgTRIGOJp5LD0H7u2w16p5iWSUUMgb6oxNhsckZADm7lZUR2xMHpnF382KXAq2QcSst2gXSeVU5INSzXGumCAQoPXTgTm_ZZjXlWZ0-awM5vywSaM/s1600/12833591_113608273091%5B1%5D+-+Copy.jpg" yda="true" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF5P8uHCeT-PJeXoGMpwYEXqNyvI5hOW2lFK-A1BNvWR2_JsDMUFt6NBusZ-NYF-7UCmLjCw1L_-8WRm1hJLo-E_mnhZcOP9a4dMydqc22q3gybbumK6MYq7xR7VI_1kopzz6w0yZjkkU/s1600/12833591_113841680501%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF5P8uHCeT-PJeXoGMpwYEXqNyvI5hOW2lFK-A1BNvWR2_JsDMUFt6NBusZ-NYF-7UCmLjCw1L_-8WRm1hJLo-E_mnhZcOP9a4dMydqc22q3gybbumK6MYq7xR7VI_1kopzz6w0yZjkkU/s320/12833591_113841680501%5B1%5D.jpg" width="240" yda="true" /></a> </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Here are two photos of the tombstone for Elsje DeWinter Mulder - my 2nd Great Grandmother. The left one was found in an old book. I might have never known where she was buried if not for this photo. I had to take a magnifying glass to read the writing. I'm not clear when this photo was taken. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The photo on the right is of the same tombstone and was taken about 2005. The stone is very worn and absolutely not readable. It's hard to believe how much they disintegrate over time. Thank goodness I have the first photo of Elsje's stone. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0GoeDcOaXRdy3dbbnnGTyZcM1VQFfgEFtPXVS25QRS8hdDIovXu-gl8L5MV9n0YjE03lkChHa_GobBNSG8hXVx8j3u2JdTXDh2y1Z1Tgyv7nbYYxpfgpqPffNhvgKz0z-L5XKj6p_qy0/s1600/a9fdbbda-1a3d-4160-b6e7-185a37610066-3%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0GoeDcOaXRdy3dbbnnGTyZcM1VQFfgEFtPXVS25QRS8hdDIovXu-gl8L5MV9n0YjE03lkChHa_GobBNSG8hXVx8j3u2JdTXDh2y1Z1Tgyv7nbYYxpfgpqPffNhvgKz0z-L5XKj6p_qy0/s320/a9fdbbda-1a3d-4160-b6e7-185a37610066-3%5B1%5D.jpg" width="210" yda="true" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elsje DeWinter Mulder</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Elsje came from a high class family in Holland. She married Hans Mulder who was a baker. They had three children - Reinardus Mulder (b.1862), Laura G. Mulder (b.1877) and Margaret L. Mulder (b.1883). <br /><br />Elsje's oldest child Reinardus was the first to immigrate to the United States when he was 20 years old. He settled in Lincoln, Nebraska. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">When Elsje's husband, Hans, died in 1887 she brought her remaining two children, Laura and Margaret, to the United States as well. They arrived in the United States on April 25, 1887 after travelling on the Zaandam out of Amsterdam. They settled in Lincoln, Nebraska.</span> </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Warm Regards, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54490/191/4A366F8CED9B0BBD9A540B212C2FF1C0.png" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px;" /></a>Warm Regards . . .http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042937779959850800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5065773386769022654.post-49381638647259247792012-08-19T08:29:00.001-07:002012-09-13T06:16:48.390-07:00Church Record Sunday ~ Amy Morse Ferrier<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpOs2IweE1Hh3EDyj1k_YD4ydSui5tm7D1NTVlF7fw39DATv7IkE2iD0KNc-BArWUPgIiMKcvNVj-SqKtJJIqXo5gZgvSFcOOf5tt0HYf57aXKdYgdJIVyhQzU3PG4q-mScF0EFqTebm4/s1600/card00104_fr%255B1%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpOs2IweE1Hh3EDyj1k_YD4ydSui5tm7D1NTVlF7fw39DATv7IkE2iD0KNc-BArWUPgIiMKcvNVj-SqKtJJIqXo5gZgvSFcOOf5tt0HYf57aXKdYgdJIVyhQzU3PG4q-mScF0EFqTebm4/s320/card00104_fr%255B1%255D.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">As I was working on my family history I wanted to focus on my 2nd Great Grand Aunt <strong>Amy Morse Ferrier</strong>. I wasn't able to locate her birth record but once I discovered her family church, St. John's Episcopal Church in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, I was able to obtain information on her birth by using the church's records.</span> </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It's a beautiful church located on the corner of Chestnut and Mulberry streets. The church is located right around the corner from the family home. St. John’s was founded in 1853 at its present location. It was the first Episcopal congregation in Pennsylvania to be established without a pew rental system, and so was originally called <i>St. John’s Free Church</i>. Wealthy and poor parishioners were able to come together as equals in their worship of God, an unusual practice at that time for Episcopal congregations.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I began looking for the church's records to see what I could learn about Amy M. Ferrier. Luckily I found some documents online that answered some of the questions I had. Her Baptismal records listed her birth date (September 4, 1873), baptismal date (November 9, 1873), and each of her parents names as well as the name of the church, city and state it was located in. I then found her Confirmation record which verified she was confirmed on March 23, 1890</span>. </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Through the records that were provided by St. John's Episcopal Church and the information I have found on ancestry.com I am now able to put together a bit of a family story about my 2nd Great Grand Aunt - Amy Morse Ferrier. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I wish I had a photo of her, but I don't. I've searched over the internet but no luck. I think it would make this story a little more complete .. to see ... visualize .. what my Aunt looked like. Maybe someone out there has a photo and if they do I certainly would love to see her. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">You see .. this story doesn't end with the church records. Her life went on way beyond her young years with her family and her church upbringing. I will share some more of what I learned about her below.</span> </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;">Confirmation Record</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baptismal Record</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Ms. Amy Morse Ferrier was born in Lancaster, Pennslyvania to Isabelle (nee Heller) and John A. Ferrier. They lived on Mulberry Street in the same city. Amy was baptized at 2 months of age and later took her first Communion at 16 years of age. Ancestry records indicate she lived in the same home until she was 27 yrs(year of 1900). I can't locate her in 1910 in any records but then I find her in 1920, at the age of 47, living with a woman friend. Ten years later, at the age of 57, she is living at <strong>Henry T. Long Asylum for the Aged</strong> in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. She seems so young to be in an asylum for the aged. But by then both of her parents, John and Isabelle, have passed on and maybe she wasn't capable of caring for herself. She never married. Amy was the youngest of 12 children (if my records are correct) so she comes from a large family. Maybe she was a spinster and happy with her life. I don't want to assume anything. In 1940, at the age of 66yrs., Amy is living in the same place but the name has changed to the <strong>Henry T. Long Home for the Aged</strong>. I lose her again in 1950 but then find information that she passed away on December 15, 1952 at the age of 79. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Henry T. Long Home for the Aged, Lancaster, Pennsylvania</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Henry T.Long Asylum for the Aged, Lancaster, Pennsylvania</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This home actually looks live a very nice retirement home. I'm sure my 2nd Great Grand Aunt had many happy years there. </span> <br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Warm Regards, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54490/191/4A366F8CED9B0BBD9A540B212C2FF1C0.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Warm Regards . . .http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042937779959850800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5065773386769022654.post-53784480206224194632012-07-25T07:05:00.000-07:002012-07-25T07:08:49.876-07:00Written Word Wednesday ~ Clues for Our Descendents<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF5wcD1uWZxKv-HpTWZVV4WsgX_rIe0It546zITjqbTQ8_F29wWptuvYRYhAbXppyjZwliTW13ypdPEuKQDLZbKtFb5EEGlxUzZRYUr4-fvMwqTRCh0XN-9260C9mUVoITJ8p3LUhgOQY/s1600/thCAB6I8JY.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF5wcD1uWZxKv-HpTWZVV4WsgX_rIe0It546zITjqbTQ8_F29wWptuvYRYhAbXppyjZwliTW13ypdPEuKQDLZbKtFb5EEGlxUzZRYUr4-fvMwqTRCh0XN-9260C9mUVoITJ8p3LUhgOQY/s1600/thCAB6I8JY.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Please take the time today to write a "handwritten" note. Whether it be in a formal journal or on a scrap of paper just write a little something about yourself, what you did today, the weather, or maybe what you had for dinner. We all appreciate the handwritten notes we find from our ancestors and how it gives us clues to their lives. Lets do the same so our descendants will also have available to them a clue into our lives. We may not think our lives are anything special. Most of us have a very set routine. . . work, dinner, bed, then back to work the next day and so on. What do we do on the weekends when we have more free time? What tv shows do we watch routinely? How many hours do we spend searching clues to our ancestors lives? What family members do you feel closest to? What do you wish was asked on the census records of our ancestors but wasn't? Write about that tidbit of information about you. It may be easier if you are writing "to" someone as opposed to just statements. What if you wrote a note TO your descendants? <em>"Dear Descendants ... whomever you may be.. I'm writing this so you will have a peek into my life ... "</em> Wow.. if I found a note like that from an ancestor of mine! I would love it .. to know they were thinking about the future. While we may think our life isn't interesting ... I bet our ancestors thought the same thing about theirs. So write your note, a handwritten note, and tuck it away for others to find when you are no longer here. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Warm Regards, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54490/191/4A366F8CED9B0BBD9A540B212C2FF1C0.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Warm Regards . . .http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042937779959850800noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5065773386769022654.post-45156530524082001992012-07-09T07:13:00.001-07:002012-09-13T06:18:44.081-07:00Mystery Monday ~ A Killing, An Orphange and the Disappearance of Martin Moe<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">My Grandmother, Bertha Rasmussen (nee Moe) never knew what really happened to her family. She had no memories of her parents and was raised by Nuns in a Catholic orphanage, "Home of the Guardian Angels" in Los Angeles, with her brother Harold Theodore Moe. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Beginning in the 1970's I wrote to the orphanage, where she and her brother were raised, in order to obtain any type of family information. I wrote repeatedly for several years and each time I wrote I would get a tidbit of information and would be mailed a document or two. Each revealing a clue but never the entire story of why she and her brother were brought there. </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span> <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA0KVTdgc5dgz8qe3dHS_So27BVd2XS26I9orsaZ2gizA2selLymJeVuh9nwnW0IcEYHFPMc12sZpGpo05aciAP6oXgfsEP2o7AMLHMo-oAgfIRMmJuZKiArMzCLmxHTtIO-dxyLlnjNs/s1600/Scan0014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" sca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA0KVTdgc5dgz8qe3dHS_So27BVd2XS26I9orsaZ2gizA2selLymJeVuh9nwnW0IcEYHFPMc12sZpGpo05aciAP6oXgfsEP2o7AMLHMo-oAgfIRMmJuZKiArMzCLmxHTtIO-dxyLlnjNs/s400/Scan0014.jpg" width="267" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Application for Admission</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> The orphanage's "Application for Admission" states the Father's name was "Martin Moe" (other documents indicate father born in Norway). Their Mother "not known". </span> <span style="font-size: large;">It stated "Moe Harold - 6 yrs 9 months" and "Moe Bertha - 4 years 11 months" were born in Mexico. It also states parents were married in Mexico. They were admitted into the orphanage August 27, 1908. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> My Grandmother remembers being told by the Nun's her mother was killed by the "Indians". They told my Grandmother that she was shot in the head. (My grandmother did have a small scar). </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxhL20xiGYX4dZCG73hmwRBx-4gJkNPodk7ingia8Bqoj1TjYfpdZrGw8cqCt40j5aMoMrwtkG_Kr-P7qHpYhvtYlwlmajyYqLGt63f9QP8_tgeKKzch0108rSznolwx2UUrD9UvxUnss/s1600/MartinMoe.1905.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" sca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxhL20xiGYX4dZCG73hmwRBx-4gJkNPodk7ingia8Bqoj1TjYfpdZrGw8cqCt40j5aMoMrwtkG_Kr-P7qHpYhvtYlwlmajyYqLGt63f9QP8_tgeKKzch0108rSznolwx2UUrD9UvxUnss/s320/MartinMoe.1905.jpg" width="291" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Killing of my Great Grandmother and two of her children</td></tr>
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<span id="goog_1717529563"></span> <span style="font-size: large;"> Finally, after years of exhaustive searching my cousin found this article! It coincides with the story she was told. </span><span style="font-size: large;">Unfortunately, this article does not have their mother's name, just "Mrs. Moe". The article states Mrs. Moe, her father, and two children were killed. We know Martin Moe, Bertha and Harold Theodore Moe survived, so the children killed were probably their siblings. The date of the article is in 1905, therefore my Grandmother, Bertha Moe, was 1 yr old and her brother, Harold Theodore Moe, was 3 yrs old when this occurred. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdu1L3dK2Q3WkT3enrZ4JUM4U7dm-1cNiFXozj5SM9HrjKOV5KfLHlD9Oxc8hezbe50If9ITI3Lshky-E7pZz1DDddzpqSQc4HvxPYa1GICAURWVZRA0Ga2LHmHRL2q3R0i1hVumJx6lw/s1600/Scan0016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" sca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdu1L3dK2Q3WkT3enrZ4JUM4U7dm-1cNiFXozj5SM9HrjKOV5KfLHlD9Oxc8hezbe50If9ITI3Lshky-E7pZz1DDddzpqSQc4HvxPYa1GICAURWVZRA0Ga2LHmHRL2q3R0i1hVumJx6lw/s320/Scan0016.jpg" width="296" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Letter indicating Martin Moe's death</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Once the children were left at the orphanage, their father Martin Moe, was not heard from until this letter was received from his employer "G.B.C.Co". It indicates he died on August 20, 1908. We assume he was buried there in Sonora Mexico. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><u>Update</u>: </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><u><strong>Bertha Moe </strong><em>my grandmother </em><strong> (1903 - 2000)</strong></u><strong> </strong>had an opportunity to be adopted a few times but rejected the family's and chose to remain an orphan in the convent. She left the orphanage at 16 yrs, married, became a wonderful wife, mother, grandmother, and great grandmother and lived to be 87 years. She is found in census records in the orphange as a "servant" and after her marriage.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong><u>Harold Theodore Moe (1901 - 1947)</u> </strong>left the orphanage at 14 yrs, worked various jobs such as barber and hospital aide. He got in trouble with the law, stole a patient's radio and spent a year in San Quentin prison for it. My mother once told me she thought he had a child with an unmarried woman. My mother said she never saw that child. Unfortunately, he died as a result of alcoholism at the age of 46. He is found in census records in the orphanage as a "servant". Once he was no longer in the orphanage he can not be found in census records - although he should be in California as my mother saw him on occasion in Los Angeles area.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong><u>Father - Martin Moe</u> - </strong>one document indicates he was born in Norway. We read of him in that article of the killing of their mother. Then not again until the letter indicating his death in Culiacan, Sonora, Mexico. I can not find him in any census records at all. It is believed he spent most of his life working mines in Mexico.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong><u>Mother of Bertha and Theodore</u></strong> - documents state mother and father were married in Mexico and the children were born in Mexico. Therefore she should be in census records from Mexico. I have no knowledge of her name. I have no records on her. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Block Wall!</strong> I'm stuck at Martin Moe and his unnamed wife. Since documents indicate they married and had children in Mexico I would expect to find them there, anywhere between 1850 - 1908. If anyone has any tips on how to locate them I would appreciate it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Warm Regards, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54490/191/4A366F8CED9B0BBD9A540B212C2FF1C0.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Warm Regards . . .http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042937779959850800noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5065773386769022654.post-20549646426298174672012-07-04T11:59:00.000-07:002012-09-13T06:19:31.487-07:00Wordless Wednesday ~ The Booth Family Relocates in California<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlaWOYG2LrhWgfOmCWzV9sGxSV5zCbPWHKe-Fb_NlNbG72F6hLgYuKETfbXOok5VgnLCTRbLH3r63zkN-TkTZTY4j40Kpd3q-emST7GX5B_WvoUAPgwaP8xOwEPEqaU2wCDN_WMJbMO4Y/s1600/Walt.Esther.MovetoOntario..jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="198" sca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlaWOYG2LrhWgfOmCWzV9sGxSV5zCbPWHKe-Fb_NlNbG72F6hLgYuKETfbXOok5VgnLCTRbLH3r63zkN-TkTZTY4j40Kpd3q-emST7GX5B_WvoUAPgwaP8xOwEPEqaU2wCDN_WMJbMO4Y/s320/Walt.Esther.MovetoOntario..jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwhyX0t5UzvvkmRyVT6t-HN0Cwj-VW9vzxsgTixKwPZN65MbGnBkDVTuQiqXIt09_kCwaUSKi5ACK8_Oi0qQUTbDq-oMYRJsahQRvsHcKcqIOFMh84-koJ2Ig1A7-nlzeilwfOK1bc220/s1600/Walt.Esther.MoveToOntario.2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="196" sca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwhyX0t5UzvvkmRyVT6t-HN0Cwj-VW9vzxsgTixKwPZN65MbGnBkDVTuQiqXIt09_kCwaUSKi5ACK8_Oi0qQUTbDq-oMYRJsahQRvsHcKcqIOFMh84-koJ2Ig1A7-nlzeilwfOK1bc220/s320/Walt.Esther.MoveToOntario.2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I don't recall finding in any census records with my Grandparents living in Ontario, California. But the photograph states that's where they are moving to. Two sets of my Paternal Great Grandparents are in this photo ~ which is nice ~ and my Dad <span style="font-size: small;">(Walter Booth)</span> is the little boy on the far right. That's my Great Grandmother's writing on the photo ~ Laura Ferrier (nee Mulder).</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Warm Regards, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54490/191/4A366F8CED9B0BBD9A540B212C2FF1C0.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Warm Regards . . .http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042937779959850800noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5065773386769022654.post-13882682186481055682012-06-25T07:22:00.000-07:002012-09-13T06:20:04.728-07:00Military Monday ~ East India's Company's Service<div style="color: #eeeeee;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #eeeeee;">George Booth (1830 - 1859) his wife Ann Read Booth (1831 - 1856) are both of England.</span></b></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="color: #eeeeee;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>- </i></b><i>Effects under L50</i></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>25 June 1877</b> - Administration of the effects of George Booth formerly of Woolwich in the County of Kent Sergeant in the Royal Marines but late of Merriott in the County of Somerset a Gunner in the East India's Company's Service a widower who died 12 August 1859 at Neemuch in the Presidency of Bombay was granted at Taunton to George Paul Read Booth of Oxford-road New Windsor in the County of Berks Baker the Son and only Next of Kin. </i></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">George Booth (1830 - 1859) is my great great great Grandfather (I have no photos of him). My records show George Paul Read Booth (my great great Grandfather and no photos) is his only ch</span>ild and this above report would lead me to believe there are no other children. I was thinking there may be others .. but I guess not.<br /><br />The above is the Probate Court determining who is next in line for his estate. The odd part is .. everyone else on that page died in 1877 .. but George Booth died back in 1859 so this is done 18 years later.</span> <span style="font-size: large;"><br /><br />It states that he served in the Royal Marines as a Sergeant and Gunner in "East India's Company's" service. I was reading up on East India's Company and there was a significant battle that took place and they mention the city of Kabul (which is know is the capital of Afghanistan). It was stating that the British sent soldiers to help in the battle and that those who volunteered in this battle were sending themselves on a suicide mission as there were few that survived. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicX0CWOOIM31Zx9IyazBVw9QUSCbajm38fOdsAQMrHkuctNRh-sMvA-N5FSjtDr6dlr-zlesrLGv2xStXVSFwUuZaOGLBx8AOfw-8oorcglQr8n8xyCCu7ikVnmeJ67XkkX4a65vBFda4/s1600/British+East+India+Company.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicX0CWOOIM31Zx9IyazBVw9QUSCbajm38fOdsAQMrHkuctNRh-sMvA-N5FSjtDr6dlr-zlesrLGv2xStXVSFwUuZaOGLBx8AOfw-8oorcglQr8n8xyCCu7ikVnmeJ67XkkX4a65vBFda4/s320/British+East+India+Company.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bing Images</td></tr>
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<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: large;">It states he died in "Neemuch" and this is what I found on that place ....</span><span style="color: #eeeeee;"> </span><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: large;"><br /><b>>>> Neemuch</b></span><span style="color: #eeeeee;"> </span><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">(</span><a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hindi_language" style="color: #eeeeee;" title="Hindi language">Hindi</a><span style="color: #eeeeee;">: नीमच)</span><sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-0" style="color: #eeeeee;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neemuch#cite_note-0"> </a></sup><span style="color: #eeeeee;">or Nimach is a town in the </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Malwa" style="color: #eeeeee;" title="Malwa">Malwa</a><span style="color: #eeeeee;"> region in state of </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Madhya_Pradesh" style="color: #eeeeee;" title="Madhya Pradesh">Madhya Pradesh</a><span style="color: #eeeeee;">, </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/India" style="color: #eeeeee;" title="India">India</a><span style="color: #eeeeee;">. Neemuch shares its north eastern border with state of Rajasthan. It is the administrative headquarters of </span><a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neemuch_District" style="color: #eeeeee;" title="Neemuch District">Neemuch District</a><span style="color: #eeeeee;">. Nimach is an abbreviation of "North India Mounted Artillery & Cavalry Headquarters". Formerly a large British cantonment of Gwalior princely state, the town in 1822 became the headquarters of the combined Rajputana–Malwa political agency and of the Malwa Agency in 1895. It is a road junction and distribution centre for agricultural products. It is the birthplace of </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Central_Reserve_Police_Force" style="color: #eeeeee;" title="Central Reserve Police Force">Central Reserve Police Force</a><span style="color: #eeeeee;"> (</span><a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/CRPF" style="color: #eeeeee;" title="CRPF">CRPF</a><span style="color: #eeeeee;">) in 1939. The town hosts a large scale </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Recruit" style="color: #eeeeee;" title="Recruit">recruit</a><span style="color: #eeeeee;"> training center for </span><a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/CRPF" style="color: #eeeeee;" title="CRPF">CRPF</a><span style="color: #eeeeee;">, and still maintains Neemuch's British Military </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cantonment" style="color: #eeeeee;" title="Cantonment">Cantonment</a><span style="color: #eeeeee;">, one of the first of its kind in India. Neemuch is known as </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/India" style="color: #eeeeee;" title="India">India</a><span style="color: #eeeeee;">'s </span><a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eye_donation" style="color: #eeeeee;" title="Eye donation">Eye donation</a><span style="color: #eeeeee;"> </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Capital_city" style="color: #eeeeee;" title="Capital city">capital</a><span style="color: #eeeeee;"> as it accounts for the highest per capita eye donation rate in the country. Neemuch has been known for the production of </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Opium" style="color: #eeeeee;" title="Opium">opium</a>, through the government-owned <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Opium_and_Alkaloid_Works" style="color: #eeeeee;" title="Opium and Alkaloid Works">Opium and Alkaloid Works</a><span style="color: #eeeeee;">. Handloom weaving is the major industry here. </span></span><span style="color: #eeeeee;">From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia</span><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: large;"><br /><br /><span style="color: #eeeeee;">It also states that this was "granted in Taunton". This is what I learned about "Taunton". </span></span><span style="color: #eeeeee;"></span><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: large;"><br /><b>>>></b></span><span style="color: #eeeeee;"> </span><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: large;"><b style="color: #eeeeee;">Taunton</b><span style="color: #eeeeee;"> is the </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/County_town" style="color: #eeeeee;" title="County town">county town</a><span style="color: #eeeeee;"> of </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Somerset" style="color: #eeeeee;" title="Somerset">Somerset</a><span style="color: #eeeeee;">, England. </span><sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-pop_0-1" style="color: #eeeeee;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taunton#cite_note-pop-0"></a></sup><span style="color: #eeeeee;">It is the largest town in the </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Non-metropolitan_county" style="color: #eeeeee;" title="Non-metropolitan county">shire county</a> of Somerset.The town has over 1,000 years of religious and military history, and is now undergoing a regeneration project. It has various transport links which support its central role in economy and commerce. Taunton is the site of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Musgrove_Park_Hospital" style="color: #eeeeee;" title="Musgrove Park Hospital">Musgrove Park Hospital</a><span style="color: #eeeeee;"> and </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Somerset_County_Cricket_Club" style="color: #eeeeee;" title="Somerset County Cricket Club">Somerset County Cricket Club</a><span style="color: #eeeeee;">'s </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/County_Ground,_Taunton" style="color: #eeeeee;" title="County Ground, Taunton">County Ground</a><span style="color: #eeeeee;"> and is home to </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/40_Commando" style="color: #eeeeee;" title="40 Commando">40 Commando</a><span style="color: #eeeeee;">, </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Royal_Marines" style="color: #eeeeee;" title="Royal Marines">Royal Marines</a><span style="color: #eeeeee;">. Central Taunton is part of the annual </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/West_Country_Carnival" style="color: #eeeeee;" title="West Country Carnival">West Country Carnival</a><span style="color: #eeeeee;"> circuit. The </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_Kingdom_Hydrographic_Office" style="color: #eeeeee;" title="United Kingdom Hydrographic Office">United Kingdom Hydrographic Office</a> is located on Admiralty Way. </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taunton#cite_note-1" style="color: #eeeeee;">From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia</a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And this is what I found out about East India Company and the British during this time . . .</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">The British had control over almost all the parts of India except the Mughal Empire, which was achieved during <a class="fntlink" href="http://www.indianetzone.com/2/sepoy_mutiny.htm" style="color: #eeeeee;" title="Sepoy Mutiny">Sepoy Mutiny</a> of 1857.</span></i><span style="font-size: large;"><i>In the Indian Mutiny of 1857-1858 the 2nd Goorkhas showed striking proof of their loyalty at Delhi where, together with the 60th Rifles (now part of The Rifles), they held Hindu Rao's house, the key to the British position which was under continuous fire from the mutineers, for over three months. During this period the 2nd Goorkhas suffered 327 casualties (including 8 of their 9 British Officers) out of a total strength of 490. Also during the mutiny, 12 Nepalese Army Regiments, a force of 8,000 men under the personal leadership of the Prime Minister of Nepal, took part in the final relief of Lucknow. </i></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Taken from http://www.army.mod.uk/gurkhas/history.aspx/</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It appears he never made it back to England alive and it took them 18 years to actually claim his as dead. Don't know .. that's just speculation. What an interesting story .... I sure am learning a lot about history. :)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Warm Regards, </span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54490/191/4A366F8CED9B0BBD9A540B212C2FF1C0.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Warm Regards . . .http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042937779959850800noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5065773386769022654.post-704486293804190752012-06-23T07:01:00.000-07:002014-06-27T13:39:58.705-07:00Sepia Saturday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL3Q1YlwKmWxiUTP1gyJsOCizJB6D4npBgE-ldGp_8d2IyvnI4W6Q-O-WXfR9Z4_yguiYp1ZwKY3cqNXV4qPp6IPePIXgaHV7po6gzbOjw7wgIMlxC4ILJgH4_uIMwZjCcFy2zUNK4cfQ/s1600/SepiaSat6.22.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/AVvXsEgL3Q1YlwKmWxiUTP1gyJsOCizJB6D4npBgE-ldGp_8d2IyvnI4W6Q-O-WXfR9Z4_yguiYp1ZwKY3cqNXV4qPp6IPePIXgaHV7po6gzbOjw7wgIMlxC4ILJgH4_uIMwZjCcFy2zUNK4cfQ/s1600/SepiaSat6.22.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Ahhhh look at all the fun those people are having! It's a nice day out and appears the sun is shining. So I went digging around in the family photos to see what I could find to fit the theme. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqstwtx0fqGv6eAQ3q4PuM4TgcxZY13rf5OrFCDnvbxjC-f0xcIH3KJmeh8IRF2k44LVPJwOIhlUHx5lhPIHWrRwUlcxbUSYFf4umkZDl_4tyW9hyphenhyphenwZczP7urxNkkfd7-E6amDjnM3i5I/s1600/Scan0014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqstwtx0fqGv6eAQ3q4PuM4TgcxZY13rf5OrFCDnvbxjC-f0xcIH3KJmeh8IRF2k44LVPJwOIhlUHx5lhPIHWrRwUlcxbUSYFf4umkZDl_4tyW9hyphenhyphenwZczP7urxNkkfd7-E6amDjnM3i5I/s320/Scan0014.jpg" height="279" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Florence Weiss Laura Mulder Ferrier Arthur Ferrier Tillie Rhea </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> The couple in the center are my paternal great grandparents, Laura (nee Mulder) Ferrier and Arthur Ferrier. The two women on either side of them I don't know (Florence and Tillie) but I assume they are friends. The back of the photo lists all their names and "Long Beach Pike 1923". They seem overdressed to me to have a fun day at the Pike but maybe that's just the way it was back then. There must be a chill in the air the way they are bundled up.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD1zp3v89XVUBoYLvfk1lSUYO4KbVf7cniRH9sxegqXdTf7TxTCzIbi1TJpbrRU0m7frEOvqR5crQ1AiFdtwwR_jpg2Jm_8pnkyS7AmFWAB4EI7LqjjO66hOHMvYRK3D8dmJxaP-YiEDc/s1600/pike.1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD1zp3v89XVUBoYLvfk1lSUYO4KbVf7cniRH9sxegqXdTf7TxTCzIbi1TJpbrRU0m7frEOvqR5crQ1AiFdtwwR_jpg2Jm_8pnkyS7AmFWAB4EI7LqjjO66hOHMvYRK3D8dmJxaP-YiEDc/s400/pike.1.jpg" height="248" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Long Beach California "Pike" 1924</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Laura Mulder Ferrier immigrated to the United States in 1887 from Holland. She originally settled in Nebraska where she met Arthur. They married in 1901 and had two daughters<span style="font-size: small;"> (one who was my Grandmother)</span> and one son. Arthur was an Architect and thought if he moved the family to Los Angeles there would be more opportunities for jobs for him as Los Angeles was a growing city. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaXoO7EaWFi7QPl7ifij-BqxNK-j_NJ9uK8pTG-oLKOsZzxZDFacLr6gcytbOInVixIeCbEG43jJk5CHFLwOzpZHTAHJ3HvEW8g6_hVtIgZIKR5MCg4u9wzKoiE-ngp5XsKh-tZa4a2aQ/s1600/Laura+Ferrier%252C+Elsie%252C+Esther%252C+John+-+1908.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaXoO7EaWFi7QPl7ifij-BqxNK-j_NJ9uK8pTG-oLKOsZzxZDFacLr6gcytbOInVixIeCbEG43jJk5CHFLwOzpZHTAHJ3HvEW8g6_hVtIgZIKR5MCg4u9wzKoiE-ngp5XsKh-tZa4a2aQ/s400/Laura+Ferrier%252C+Elsie%252C+Esther%252C+John+-+1908.jpg" height="400" width="241" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Laura Ferrier, Esther (left), John, Elsie 1908</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This photo of Laura and the three children was taken in 1908 just prior to the family's move to Los Angeles. Once they arrived Arthur discovered that obtaining architect jobs was difficult. Finances became tough and they ended up putting their three children in an orphanage. Both Arthur and Laura worked doing anything they could to bring in an income. They visited their children weekly and after a year or so, when they were more stable, the children came back home. The family remained in Los Angeles for the remainder of their lives. (The little girl on the left, Esther, was my Grandmother.) <span style="font-size: small;">*I know this information because I spent time with my grand aunt Edith Capen Ferrier who shared family history stories with me. Edith lived to be 100 years before she passed. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">My great grandparents came a long way... beginning in Nebraska, moving to California, not able to find work, to becoming stable and enjoying at day at the Pike!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Warm Regards, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54490/191/4A366F8CED9B0BBD9A540B212C2FF1C0.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Warm Regards . . .http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042937779959850800noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5065773386769022654.post-17865024850134924582012-06-20T07:07:00.000-07:002014-06-27T13:42:32.072-07:00Written Word Wednesday ~ Handwriting<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTd_D4HS-gRqzKcpJ6TWo7Tfp84ZeRZoWubZVsKO5uMWJWze08R-kvHAn3w1e6B0xezRg80CRRJrLioPAnh_1atRW5L61XT5Tw3aS9Yx8POfbZ5-NhA2dDln8kVcsX0BWJGQVDBmEjav8/s1600/letters.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/AVvXsEiTd_D4HS-gRqzKcpJ6TWo7Tfp84ZeRZoWubZVsKO5uMWJWze08R-kvHAn3w1e6B0xezRg80CRRJrLioPAnh_1atRW5L61XT5Tw3aS9Yx8POfbZ5-NhA2dDln8kVcsX0BWJGQVDBmEjav8/s1600/letters.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">So many of us are thrilled when we find handwritten documents from one of our ancestors. Especially those notes with just random thoughts or what the writer was doing that day. It's the simple things that my ancestors did that intrigue me. .. was it sunny out? were there children running around outside? is there an ice cream truck going by with it's music playing? who did they talk to on the phone that day? Wouldn't it be fun if we all found a written note from an ancestor.. lets say ... three generations back? Three generations back would take me to the mid-1800's. I would love to read something written by my great great grandparents. I'd love to read what a typical day was for them. What did they serve for dinner? What was the family like and who talked to who. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So .. with all that being said I am going to put more focus on keeping my journaling up. I began writing in journals for four special people in my life about fifteen years ago. Yes.. that's four separate journals with my individual thoughts for each person. I keep them tucked away, but close by, and know they will be found when I'm gone. I went back and read what I wrote years ago and its amazing what was going on at the time. I'm so glad I enjoy writing. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV8cBhAicwbiO20BSWmndKc_-CBpDVYghh82uDzehHf9n4eXoHOgjJYGsqwEuLSuwaegT2MFFt1lp_GMACSu1XyPoxj9XoWE4ITDmiEerMzCyJYa7UMmWJgxB8RsLJoHM7pIU5JdNMP8g/s1600/Journals.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV8cBhAicwbiO20BSWmndKc_-CBpDVYghh82uDzehHf9n4eXoHOgjJYGsqwEuLSuwaegT2MFFt1lp_GMACSu1XyPoxj9XoWE4ITDmiEerMzCyJYa7UMmWJgxB8RsLJoHM7pIU5JdNMP8g/s1600/Journals.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>"Written Word Wednesday"</b> is going to remind me that it's time to write. . . write something... anything. I think the written word is disappearing and I find that sad. I don't want it to go away. With all of us blogging and texting, no one receives, or sends, anything handwritten anymore. I want my descendants to know about how I lived and what my handwriting looked like. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So I am going back to my writing and I will post a snippet of what I write. Something to indicate that I'm keeping up with my journal writing. I hope many of you will join me. So whether you write in a journal or send an actual letter off in the mail I think it will be fantastic if we all brought back the written word and then shared about it in our blog. I'd love to hear your story on how you are bringing back the written word for your decedents.</span> <br />
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<b><i style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">"Wednesday, June 20, 2012</i></b></blockquote>
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<b><i style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">There's a cool breeze and it's about 68°. We just celebrated Father's Day this past Sunday and I had some of the family over; Mark, Cassie, Marcus, Matthew, and three of their friends, Mr. and Mrs. Craig and their son Darren. We BBQ'd and enjoyed the pool. It was a lot of fun. I'm sorry it's been a long time since I've written in my journal and for that I feel bad. I will do my best to keep up with my writings. </i></b></blockquote>
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<b><i style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> Much Love . . . " </i></b></blockquote>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Warm Regards,</span></span><b><i style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> </i></b><b><b></b></b>
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54490/191/4A366F8CED9B0BBD9A540B212C2FF1C0.png" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; border: 0px none ! important;" /></a>Warm Regards . . .http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042937779959850800noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5065773386769022654.post-12634501762960949912012-06-19T07:13:00.001-07:002012-06-19T07:13:56.228-07:00Tuesday Tip ~ Lists of Children in Orphanages<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoNlJPBpSZpdcJJBDnTuk5VY_W0ox0zwcxrdmrrKpI9Bd0d8i_vb2Irsr8eh_CuH6lCbHm1qF0u0-tCw_rifa7p5UZ87TUkYnDrOo7fRnqbfaahyphenhyphenwj9OLI22XIBH-UVj_Apg6ZLiig42Q/s1600/vintagecouple.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoNlJPBpSZpdcJJBDnTuk5VY_W0ox0zwcxrdmrrKpI9Bd0d8i_vb2Irsr8eh_CuH6lCbHm1qF0u0-tCw_rifa7p5UZ87TUkYnDrOo7fRnqbfaahyphenhyphenwj9OLI22XIBH-UVj_Apg6ZLiig42Q/s320/vintagecouple.jpg" width="202" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Courtesy of Bing Images</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Have you been looking through census records only to find the children seemed to have disappeared? You wonder what could have happened to them or where did they go. I had that happen to me. I saw my Great Grandparents on the census alone and their young children were not with them. I couldn't imagine what could have happened. I began an intense search for them and just by luck, not sure how I found them, but they showed up in an orphanage! I asked a living relative about it and I was told that when the family arrived in California from Nebraska the jobs were much harder to get then they thought and they had a difficult time caring for their children. The children were put in the orphanage where, I was told, my great grandparents visited them weekly but had to place them there temporarily so they could both work. Ten years later the next census showed the family back together again. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So my Tuesday Tip for you today is to be sure and check orphanage records! Here's orphanage records for </span>. . .<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.soloff.com/hnoh/CENSUSINFORMATION6C.html#1855NYOA" target="_blank">FEDERAL and STATE CENSUS INFORMATION Lists of Children Residing in Orphanages Jewish & Other Denominations</a></span></h1>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinVUgBQ-f1bVb4N4TmS_BebS03xCzIwfBJyKePXnZ56z7E521Q6Kwz-GLpVo4XndPA6T2EdrDOZFA9_7F5TOfko6CvSALsgXzqneBXSocNbo5MDxznxBuJYeA5QTqdJk3H_yrE54WJ42A/s1600/vintagechildren.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="227" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinVUgBQ-f1bVb4N4TmS_BebS03xCzIwfBJyKePXnZ56z7E521Q6Kwz-GLpVo4XndPA6T2EdrDOZFA9_7F5TOfko6CvSALsgXzqneBXSocNbo5MDxznxBuJYeA5QTqdJk3H_yrE54WJ42A/s320/vintagechildren.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Courtesy of Bing Images</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I hope this Tip urges you to search places you may not have thought of. We have to think of the times and what parents had to do for the family to survive. </span><span style="color: red; font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large; font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Warm Regards, </span>
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54490/191/4A366F8CED9B0BBD9A540B212C2FF1C0.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>Warm Regards . . .http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042937779959850800noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5065773386769022654.post-10502123403450952732012-06-16T15:47:00.000-07:002012-06-19T07:09:37.849-07:00Sepia Saturday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeg9GW9ecXEV_meX1F1Ak3wikkTX3AA9rtAK-CV4yRHjDUQv_xyiRbAeWEay9PZruk6axYNtYntTwe6hyphenhyphen_12wVNZBoSeH-U0UXGhx7eyB1ro-eqmn6fRxxiO8c3NoncxPKhbsd7-Jr25A/s1600/SepiaSat.6.16.12.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/AVvXsEgeg9GW9ecXEV_meX1F1Ak3wikkTX3AA9rtAK-CV4yRHjDUQv_xyiRbAeWEay9PZruk6axYNtYntTwe6hyphenhyphen_12wVNZBoSeH-U0UXGhx7eyB1ro-eqmn6fRxxiO8c3NoncxPKhbsd7-Jr25A/s1600/SepiaSat.6.16.12.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">The theme for this weeks Sepia Saturday led me to focus on "legs". It brought me back in my memory banks to a conversation I had with my Mother many years ago. It's coming back to me pretty clearly and a memory I hadn't thought about in a long, long time. This photo of the couples legs was a trigger to a pleasant afternoon with my Mom and a conversation we had over a hot cup of coffee . . . </span><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgprCZecJ0A8Cs5f-PP9Yzm-jys1aG2NIopxhyphenhyphen_26Hg-O9-0GpYmtG5ic3b3HTCBtabTGGtu90pGay2odtB-rX0ihQTGSH5PprlsaDofvWZPv9lesBATXXZhL7obv7Mv-t59f6sVIbqg-U/s1600/scan0018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgprCZecJ0A8Cs5f-PP9Yzm-jys1aG2NIopxhyphenhyphen_26Hg-O9-0GpYmtG5ic3b3HTCBtabTGGtu90pGay2odtB-rX0ihQTGSH5PprlsaDofvWZPv9lesBATXXZhL7obv7Mv-t59f6sVIbqg-U/s320/scan0018.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Mother (left) and her sister, my Aunt (right)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;">I loved my conversations with my Mom and I miss them dearly. Mom passed away just over one year ago. She knew my love for genealogy and family history and we had many conversations on our family's past. This one afternoon Mom was sharing with me what it was like for her, and others, in the 1940's. She shared with me the difficulty in getting what us women think now as simple things, such as nylons. Mom explained that nylon was scarce and in much demand during WWII. Mom, with her cigarette tapping the ashtray, and a steaming cup of coffee on the table, shared with me how she wore makeup on her legs to appear she was wearing nylons. She smiled and laughed as she shared what that was like... painting her legs and then when she wanted to look "real good" she'd have someone draw a line in the back with and eyebrow pencil to resemble the seam. She laughed as she shared what she used to do. She then added ... the only problem was you had to stay away from water and if the boys knew you had leg makeup on they would try to push you in the sprinklers. I loved it how Mom got lost in her stories. She knew she had a captive audience in me and she knew I held on to every word she said. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2oddDYDooMXB1Q219GMZC-I4oSoPRSbH3K68r9FlpuTEHgTdkJ7zw16laxKGWx3xEY5xAB9ZkTEKjArnE3w3CpKP2Qt8Fl8SBJ2mj2b9uLgVlcQIXHGUHJ5U-tz7WtdmbOryowbXo0y4/s1600/war-time-painted-seam-stockings-vintage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2oddDYDooMXB1Q219GMZC-I4oSoPRSbH3K68r9FlpuTEHgTdkJ7zw16laxKGWx3xEY5xAB9ZkTEKjArnE3w3CpKP2Qt8Fl8SBJ2mj2b9uLgVlcQIXHGUHJ5U-tz7WtdmbOryowbXo0y4/s320/war-time-painted-seam-stockings-vintage.jpg" width="261" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo Courtesy of Bing</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">During the war nylon was needed for parachutes among other things. Mom reminded me that money was short and cosmetics were hard to get so you'd have to get creative. Mom told me one had to just "make do" with what you had. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">She shared some of the following tips which we both laughed about <span style="font-size: small;">(although very useful even today)</span>;</span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Use red lipstick for rouge.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Bath in tea bags to help you look more tan.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">No lipstick? Boil red vegetables (beets) and rub on your lips.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Put oatmeal and egg whites on your face for a nice facial.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Use strips of rags for curlers. Wet hair, wrap hair around the rag and tie the ends of the rags together. When you wake up you have beautiful curls. (My Mom actually curled my hair a lot that way when I was young)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Need your hair lightened? Put lemon juice in your hair and go out in the sun.</span> <span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></li>
</ul>
<span style="font-size: large;">I Love You Mom and miss you and our talks very much. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I hope this Sepia Saturday brought back some nice memories for all of you.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Warm Regards, </span>
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54490/191/4A366F8CED9B0BBD9A540B212C2FF1C0.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>Warm Regards . . .http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042937779959850800noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5065773386769022654.post-3936712208060213092012-06-11T11:50:00.000-07:002012-09-02T10:09:47.896-07:00Mystery Monday ~ Where is the Furtney Family now?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnXYMq4h2Ov0mu_yzfstFFmhDOnBNC5Yg4v44TSZkTWFKDV0FeJDz2IGn4O7kJ70FG3FkQxuFRa_E8PCeRYEt1g7P9A6YWc-X9BipVBMm3lmJsivIKTM0ElMkVf_mZJ8OOHK5f5dIxFVU/s1600/FurtneyFamily.1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnXYMq4h2Ov0mu_yzfstFFmhDOnBNC5Yg4v44TSZkTWFKDV0FeJDz2IGn4O7kJ70FG3FkQxuFRa_E8PCeRYEt1g7P9A6YWc-X9BipVBMm3lmJsivIKTM0ElMkVf_mZJ8OOHK5f5dIxFVU/s320/FurtneyFamily.1.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> I have an old photo album that was acquired at a garage sale. Most of
the photos in it are not marked. But there are a few with names and I'd
like to get them to their family. Unfortunately my scanner is down so I
took photos of these pictures with my phone (yikes!) I love old photos and I especially like to look at the background. Look at that car, it's wonderful. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I've included a photo of the back of that family picture. It reads <b><i>"this is 4 generations Myself & Lillie Edward and his son Vernon Furtney"</i> </b>I searched these names on ancestry.com and I believe I found their family tree :) I will contact the owner of that family tree and direct him to these photos. </span><span style="font-size: large;">I hope these photos belong to them as I'd like to get
them in the mail to their family. Wouldn't we all like to receive a
surprise like this? It would be wonderful if I had lost family photos
that came back home.</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL7SCCABHW9DmTJTAJ1PmEX7QDm1OVNWUiHYYyj5SpIj9afVnPWX3MnuN2G-JfMQDv6sjdvZ4oZZfTJNIV-3SnDvHjdjveJ4r8dHGLDdXIjRETzNS6V5NumMK7oaErcg08PA7OKp3jLRw/s1600/FurtneyFamily.3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL7SCCABHW9DmTJTAJ1PmEX7QDm1OVNWUiHYYyj5SpIj9afVnPWX3MnuN2G-JfMQDv6sjdvZ4oZZfTJNIV-3SnDvHjdjveJ4r8dHGLDdXIjRETzNS6V5NumMK7oaErcg08PA7OKp3jLRw/s320/FurtneyFamily.3.jpg" width="320" /> </a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXU4Ywy9LgaMqMWQkdBvMEpA16maRfKsp9NPa2bbyXFJgNeE8CAm-UZJtxu_fDlKD6GbBwWXvOt32y0PY3vB87NP6DSywvXSJ7GsABnfvk5r79bIVJrAJLaNa0noJkHWWZHPmNbD0UpzY/s1600/Mr.Mrs.Furtney.1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXU4Ywy9LgaMqMWQkdBvMEpA16maRfKsp9NPa2bbyXFJgNeE8CAm-UZJtxu_fDlKD6GbBwWXvOt32y0PY3vB87NP6DSywvXSJ7GsABnfvk5r79bIVJrAJLaNa0noJkHWWZHPmNbD0UpzY/s320/Mr.Mrs.Furtney.1.jpg" width="218" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">This looks like such a lovely couple. The same name appears on the back - Furtney. As I look closely at the picture, she has a wedding ring on and some chain hanging in front of her. I'm not sure what that is. He has a chain in front as well and I assume that's his pocket watch. Also, I've notice in most old photos the subjects are never smiling. I wonder if they were told not to. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicu7NIjRS5d6sGUu-w46YWqnp-zPDIEHyOjokEcJcDl1f89RcIfwW7NLbm2pLIgFmZn_5jpIZsyxbhbezbwjV91ABNG4I0rZT1MWkIux2bsjzrZWie4yfWLUUQPfCC1m9k0lOOMAWMALQ/s1600/Mr.Mrs.Furtney.2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicu7NIjRS5d6sGUu-w46YWqnp-zPDIEHyOjokEcJcDl1f89RcIfwW7NLbm2pLIgFmZn_5jpIZsyxbhbezbwjV91ABNG4I0rZT1MWkIux2bsjzrZWie4yfWLUUQPfCC1m9k0lOOMAWMALQ/s320/Mr.Mrs.Furtney.2.jpg" width="296" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">There is writing on the back on this photo as well. I've
included a picture of it here and as you see it's very difficult to
read. Looking at the original photo it appears to say <i><b>"Mrs Maud Furtney Ft. Dodge, Iowa"</b></i>. Interesting because the back of the photo also has the emblem of the photographer A. Larson who is from Minneapolis, Minn. I will update my blog if I find the family of these photos :)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Warm Regards,</span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54490/191/4A366F8CED9B0BBD9A540B212C2FF1C0.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>Warm Regards . . .http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042937779959850800noreply@blogger.com15