tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-74296127009246258552024-02-26T00:38:43.041-05:00Jollett Etc.Research on the Jolletts and related families of VirginiaWendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17863357756727783017noreply@blogger.comBlogger1371125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7429612700924625855.post-48522629426130192302022-01-09T09:18:00.000-05:002022-01-09T09:18:06.609-05:0052 Ancestors - FOUNDATIONS: A Rule I Ignored<p>One of the many rules guiding family historians and
genealogists in their research is that working with an original document is
better than working with a transcription or abstract. The same holds true for
photographs. I never quite understood how a photo of a photo could not be just
as good as the original until yesterday.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">Yesterday was the day I set aside to clean out my Fibber
McGee & Molly closet upstairs in my Gene Cave. For months I have had to use
my foot to push back baskets overflowing with who-knows-what and then quickly
extract said foot while jiggling bifold doors into place.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">Who knew I have five 3-hole punchers? Why???</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">But I digress.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">Stuffed somewhere among the paperbacks, office supplies, cookbooks,
and craft supplies was an envelope of photos that I must have borrowed years
ago from my sister to scan. One photo that caught my eye was this one that I
had already scanned.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh2EDI6eBWGm-H5LgBcwyQhJVsIWE7DF416GHvermnFF__25gEy-Mxwt0HCaPnKjsq47pbKzg6kR1BZ0U66rfONy6Jn8SzubrRXuYa4_87QRJSyqwJW6NKAgC73mpvK3JGaheQ_8sX45QMyMfP8sI6oX8COPpsDVhTFimeZNPPXH_3YrXZmIK8W7AY=s1500" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="942" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh2EDI6eBWGm-H5LgBcwyQhJVsIWE7DF416GHvermnFF__25gEy-Mxwt0HCaPnKjsq47pbKzg6kR1BZ0U66rfONy6Jn8SzubrRXuYa4_87QRJSyqwJW6NKAgC73mpvK3JGaheQ_8sX45QMyMfP8sI6oX8COPpsDVhTFimeZNPPXH_3YrXZmIK8W7AY=w402-h640" width="402" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNoSpacing">I have used this photo numerous times here at Jollett
Etc. The couple were among my many UNKNOWNs. For a time, I thought maybe this
was my 2X great-grandfather James Franklin Jollett and his first wife Lucy
Shiflett. However, they married in 1859. The couple’s clothing does not fit the
period.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">Then I thought maybe this was my 2X great-grandparents
Mitchell Davis and Martha Willson. They married in 1846. Again, the clothing
does not reflect the period, nor does the woman look to be only 14 years old.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">What I failed to notice the first time I scanned the
photo was the reverse. The frame has aged into very soft paper making the
pencil message nearly invisible and almost impossible to read.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh4mXRNRkUGgmElCTUZq_seEa0a62m2yBHXmK8Y0nwQam08NJcaPct13E6I2M29NMRU4q_6gFNEFSwvo8Bly4knKBw1S52p7Ol3yr4aGiULJ6nKUBW2YZJwDGsFmy9lcufnFGiXPfQBbyes0Nv0sgJHqX0UiU_kfTS49-aqUSRg88vF5YEu_vWvHPg=s1500" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="954" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh4mXRNRkUGgmElCTUZq_seEa0a62m2yBHXmK8Y0nwQam08NJcaPct13E6I2M29NMRU4q_6gFNEFSwvo8Bly4knKBw1S52p7Ol3yr4aGiULJ6nKUBW2YZJwDGsFmy9lcufnFGiXPfQBbyes0Nv0sgJHqX0UiU_kfTS49-aqUSRg88vF5YEu_vWvHPg=w408-h640" width="408" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNoSpacing">There is a sentence at the top. Is the first word <i>Come</i>?
<i>Look</i>? I don’t know. The next part is better: <i>Remember me dearest until we meet
and I will still</i> *something something something* <i>days apart be</i> *something*.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">It is signed “<i>L. E. Sulli</i>…” – the rest is too faded to
read but I am pretty darn sure it is SULLIVAN.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">“L. E.” was none other than Laura Etta Jollett who married
Will Sullivan. Laura was one of the sisters of my great-grandmother Mary
Frances Jollett Davis. The flowers at Laura’s neck suggest this is a wedding
photo. (Read about their Golden Anniversary <b><a href="https://jollettetc.blogspot.com/2016/07/wedding-wednesday-sullivan-golden.html">HERE</a></b>.)</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">The fact that the photo was in an envelope containing
nothing but Sullivan photos tells me I am probably correct. However, as many
times as I studied this picture, I never once guessed it might be Will and
Laura. At first glance they do not look like other photos of them.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgDNtyVBmq009i2MAv5hD3rDLW3F9COOyFlTHlYE8eej1bA-B29XcOJPjHaruxOciRptS00MGoBYRSSjoxvwE7ODVopshy3Ba6R6OqbLV2mxLQoQ5dtGmZh-EGmTWP2AshCBz86NtzfXZg5WATdM2nLUSMS5tU3HYaJYItyzUT0QFYHOhk3XLQnXJY=s1500" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="978" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgDNtyVBmq009i2MAv5hD3rDLW3F9COOyFlTHlYE8eej1bA-B29XcOJPjHaruxOciRptS00MGoBYRSSjoxvwE7ODVopshy3Ba6R6OqbLV2mxLQoQ5dtGmZh-EGmTWP2AshCBz86NtzfXZg5WATdM2nLUSMS5tU3HYaJYItyzUT0QFYHOhk3XLQnXJY=w261-h400" width="261" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Laura and Will<br />Minnie and Pearl<br />(Is Will wearing the same shoes?)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiNpAob5SyUEdJQwXehTqjmWr-IMbpAO3AH7rM5pZr8hjXsqlJfcroKW7LHOVI0ZZn03iAAVHH-Fwu3QrgzJdMilTNQdZBXHtAUmCcXQPNqI-_lkmdAUJapHPYSL1qATycQe6rEO2UnSkbUTz2LIF4YFgFMrKAutdbCgD_bH8KgS1RNiPUr-2llGgA=s1500" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1041" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiNpAob5SyUEdJQwXehTqjmWr-IMbpAO3AH7rM5pZr8hjXsqlJfcroKW7LHOVI0ZZn03iAAVHH-Fwu3QrgzJdMilTNQdZBXHtAUmCcXQPNqI-_lkmdAUJapHPYSL1qATycQe6rEO2UnSkbUTz2LIF4YFgFMrKAutdbCgD_bH8KgS1RNiPUr-2llGgA=w278-h400" width="278" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Laura and Will<br />50th Anniversary</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNoSpacing">After I studied noses and chins and overall face shape, I
was able – with confidence! - to rename the image from “Unknown” to “Will and
Laura Sullivan.”</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">The moral of the story, boys and girls, is always look at the back of the photo too. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiCD5KhgBO0PMGBhG7TWfuES7hSoI-4YsS2642-_epGgn-_ZZ5E7FcPRu7Mrwxvnhxoj9a_mRphFlYxxIE_dd5Cg0QS6xTsWVo-tuRgkXcCYx5qLSXMYpxt4YSIF6l39nP2CkxIRxR-9b9ooHRFImyS6-IQ0BZ7wu_SWZ4W0Ddze2HHiKVYi5j4x3k=s540" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="281" data-original-width="540" height="167" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiCD5KhgBO0PMGBhG7TWfuES7hSoI-4YsS2642-_epGgn-_ZZ5E7FcPRu7Mrwxvnhxoj9a_mRphFlYxxIE_dd5Cg0QS6xTsWVo-tuRgkXcCYx5qLSXMYpxt4YSIF6l39nP2CkxIRxR-9b9ooHRFImyS6-IQ0BZ7wu_SWZ4W0Ddze2HHiKVYi5j4x3k=s320" width="320" /></a></div><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;"><i>Wendy</i></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">©</span> 2022, Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.<o:p></o:p></p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17863357756727783017noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7429612700924625855.post-75027316788971634412021-12-28T02:00:00.008-05:002021-12-28T02:00:00.195-05:0052 Ancestors - FUTURE: Jollett Etc Going Forward<p class="MsoNoSpacing"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjpB8PKUCiKOVjmbASlaZLI1QDjPA03PlHAmOn72NwEm9KfdHfnOteL3x-wL_JpzfiPM10Infm76URMK0ivRn-_XoedBCJyO_ewh2wvBk4hCXlzLTwYMAMPa18_VoMq-_9AQ6Jvur-RUPOofldOEb9rE_7RU-A03AHweECwXZJXuxkrMAXY7sJbb7o=s1280" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="873" data-original-width="1280" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjpB8PKUCiKOVjmbASlaZLI1QDjPA03PlHAmOn72NwEm9KfdHfnOteL3x-wL_JpzfiPM10Infm76URMK0ivRn-_XoedBCJyO_ewh2wvBk4hCXlzLTwYMAMPa18_VoMq-_9AQ6Jvur-RUPOofldOEb9rE_7RU-A03AHweECwXZJXuxkrMAXY7sJbb7o=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br />Usually at this time of year, I write a “Year in Review”
looking back at what I accomplished with this blog. But this time, I will look
ahead.<p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">I’m finally ready to say it. Over the past couple of
years I have been thinking about ending my blog. Quite frankly, I feel storied
out. Once in a while a <b>52 Ancestors</b> theme will prompt me to check online
newspapers for a story related to a distant relative or ancestor, but for the
most part, I am not learning anything new. Pushing back a generation of
Jolletts will require boots to ground digging.</p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">Having nothing new to say is just one factor in my
decision. Another consideration is other obligations. My DAR chapter has kept me
busy as Registrar assisting other women with their applications and as the editor/reporter/printer
of the chapter newsletter. I truly enjoy both of these “jobs” despite how much
time they require. It has not been fun feeling like I “HAVE” to post a blog
when I just want to spend time trying to prove someone else’s ancestor was a
patriot of the Revolutionary War.</p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">But that’s not all. I am taking on a project for the Greene
County Historical Society transcribing some Day Books. They have been given
quite a stack from various stores around Stanardsville, Virginia dating from
the mid-1800s. Greene County was home to my Jolletts. I’m secretly hoping to
find my family as customers at the stores. If I do, you'll be the first to know - right here at <i>Jollett Etc</i>.</p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">Finally, in thinking about the future of my blog, I
realize that most of my research is recorded there. As long as Blogger is
alive, my blog will live too. But what if Blogger goes the way of Geocities? I
decided I must do what other geneabloggers have done – create books from the
blog. I have already done several books using stories about the Jolletts, but
this time I want to save ALL my blogs by year. That’s 10-years’ worth. In that
time, I cranked out 1370 posts and received 17,225 comments. I just started copy-pasting
and formatting year one which was only 5 months and 52 blogs long. Whew – it takes
longer than I thought since I also need to resize photos and think about
formatting the pages.</p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">I signed up for the 52 Ancestors challenge for 2022, but
I probably will not even try to do them all. If I have something to say, I’ll post
in the 11<sup>th</sup> year of <i>Jollett Etc</i>. For now, I am just happy that I blogged
fairly consistently for 10 years.</p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">I have made wonderful blogging friends, some of whom I
feel I know better than people who live nearby. I appreciate my readers and
especially those distant new-to-me cousins who reached out with information to
share and requests for assistance. Making such connections is what I always
hoped to achieve with my blog. So, please, stay in touch. I’m always available
by email.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: large;"><i>Wishing you all a happy and healthy 2022!</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p> </o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh6w_fZTup1WO0ezUIZ82aNEnXKbvwfWxyM0GOJoONLnXJ9_EEEMGTKdvbOEu8yjnufqK9Lajdw5cNXJyFxpsxQMcCFxe-N9vI6if5UXwe-t2SZjzKMUzq9NrexP0e68U5l1kv5K4eXBbFGfzN-ZXJ1UgrciCZMgls9mZIwUSDugm0nvKlEbpRZarM=s540" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="281" data-original-width="540" height="167" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh6w_fZTup1WO0ezUIZ82aNEnXKbvwfWxyM0GOJoONLnXJ9_EEEMGTKdvbOEu8yjnufqK9Lajdw5cNXJyFxpsxQMcCFxe-N9vI6if5UXwe-t2SZjzKMUzq9NrexP0e68U5l1kv5K4eXBbFGfzN-ZXJ1UgrciCZMgls9mZIwUSDugm0nvKlEbpRZarM=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #45818e; font-family: times;"><i>Amy Johnson Crow continues to challenge genealogy
bloggers and non-bloggers alike to think about our ancestors and share a story
or photo about them. The challenge is “</i><b><a href="https://www.amyjohnsoncrow.com/52-ancestors-in-52-weeks/">52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks.</a></b><i>”</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;"><i>Wendy</i></span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">©</span> 2021, <i>Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.</i><o:p></o:p></p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17863357756727783017noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7429612700924625855.post-35901313174736701322021-12-24T02:00:00.008-05:002021-12-24T02:00:00.196-05:00Photo Friday - 1st Christmas in 1st House<p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY-SE1SG6U_Xyq9H1-0Hmf-kE5Thc1m_8_3KkJQEpC4pv3kduFaBczw_NH89otE0yHhvUrk8uiLzzzfuqozG4Deq1fcSRb1abSirIkH0vFniKuAh6rS4A7h0l5-56G_NVWalxfCraK5zI/s1500/Christmas+1978+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1483" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY-SE1SG6U_Xyq9H1-0Hmf-kE5Thc1m_8_3KkJQEpC4pv3kduFaBczw_NH89otE0yHhvUrk8uiLzzzfuqozG4Deq1fcSRb1abSirIkH0vFniKuAh6rS4A7h0l5-56G_NVWalxfCraK5zI/w395-h400/Christmas+1978+X.jpg" width="395" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christmas 1978</td></tr></tbody></table></p><p></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing">This was our first Christmas in our first house. I was
not sure whether this was our new apartment after we moved to Portsmouth or the
new house until I noticed the new mailbox in the corner.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;"><i>Merry Christmas y'all!</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;"><i>Wendy</i></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">© </span>2021, <i>Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.</i><o:p></o:p></p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17863357756727783017noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7429612700924625855.post-21578280396574361292021-12-22T02:00:00.003-05:002021-12-22T02:00:00.209-05:0052 Ancestors - HOLIDAYS: Christmas on the Eastwind<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhOifREv8N6rlhjLF_QA1bq_k1q5DduUuTBIHrDEr6O_Gn_XCE0CMwhJZtn9S2LmYSB8Ug2lOI1XR4CNNzt6rFt4SRqSToDTQrAkiZi6aBK6Q2dCVKW48gvZpVPOQrNINa5uL-f3v1gLMpI68VNJ0oqRDsJDruNMOWzTcFnoVDTHMZumtuFk-_6gB4=s1500" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="965" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhOifREv8N6rlhjLF_QA1bq_k1q5DduUuTBIHrDEr6O_Gn_XCE0CMwhJZtn9S2LmYSB8Ug2lOI1XR4CNNzt6rFt4SRqSToDTQrAkiZi6aBK6Q2dCVKW48gvZpVPOQrNINa5uL-f3v1gLMpI68VNJ0oqRDsJDruNMOWzTcFnoVDTHMZumtuFk-_6gB4=w258-h400" width="258" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fred R. Slade, Jr<br />1946</td></tr></tbody></table><br />In December 1946, my father had been in the Coast Guard less than a year. He served on the <i>Eastwind</i>, a wind-class icebreaker shuttling supplies from Boston to the bases in Thule, Greenland. I don’t know what Christmas was like aboard the ship, but the Coasties made it festive.<div><br /></div><div>Daddy took a lot of photos during his tour, including these 2 of Christmas trees on the ship.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhm-6rVPM3-t_JjCcHayNr4OLY58bpzzZ2ugbEVeitu3sDIMDeUNCbrL331HnIsPQmcfUcpjqRB8fIRiSSxH7WkQ9lP6L9f5Y_4YyXEmBXtN8FLsZohMkWHiORKpkpRqMsm4wSTR8yEQojxiZ8OjFhJlCDOOgPJdN9wMeLNSWoipAws7EugbCrrCWE=s1500" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1202" data-original-width="1500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhm-6rVPM3-t_JjCcHayNr4OLY58bpzzZ2ugbEVeitu3sDIMDeUNCbrL331HnIsPQmcfUcpjqRB8fIRiSSxH7WkQ9lP6L9f5Y_4YyXEmBXtN8FLsZohMkWHiORKpkpRqMsm4wSTR8yEQojxiZ8OjFhJlCDOOgPJdN9wMeLNSWoipAws7EugbCrrCWE=w400-h320" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiIODvu3AXDxTB11q2dFt-A2TbWSsH5MDkCzDq67r0eu4uBNjwVR0_O0jU7Bg9qbZ9d8iITbi3HzDjjzJKrG3fpKL3Z_YjEqZXW2W4NNRMhKpJZnrrK7GkWUBoKQZmctvVS3DrEMJrkmDqLpcqhAW76cu3oGBUv8jUkkkSR-CpDYm2kAfQcgNIzQjI=s1500" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1191" data-original-width="1500" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiIODvu3AXDxTB11q2dFt-A2TbWSsH5MDkCzDq67r0eu4uBNjwVR0_O0jU7Bg9qbZ9d8iITbi3HzDjjzJKrG3fpKL3Z_YjEqZXW2W4NNRMhKpJZnrrK7GkWUBoKQZmctvVS3DrEMJrkmDqLpcqhAW76cu3oGBUv8jUkkkSR-CpDYm2kAfQcgNIzQjI=w400-h318" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div></div><i style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: xx-large;">Merry Christmas!</i></div>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEji-_UBWxzknLcvoYEHRzt9KqBWQL6yAHfSzXMbGtaUbhBki3EvlODOGkJklAl473Dwa9wYXUVnam4y7udyT875ut7zQm5748AxqzVzbAo5uKWTcSRm4U3O2l1i7gzub0me-jeSPZ5u2pAFoQFIaLc0rQnc0AF7jFx-bu5LFfroUWxto8XpQj-twqI=s540" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="281" data-original-width="540" height="167" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEji-_UBWxzknLcvoYEHRzt9KqBWQL6yAHfSzXMbGtaUbhBki3EvlODOGkJklAl473Dwa9wYXUVnam4y7udyT875ut7zQm5748AxqzVzbAo5uKWTcSRm4U3O2l1i7gzub0me-jeSPZ5u2pAFoQFIaLc0rQnc0AF7jFx-bu5LFfroUWxto8XpQj-twqI=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #45818e; font-family: times;"><i>Amy Johnson Crow continues to challenge genealogy
bloggers and non-bloggers alike to think about our ancestors and share a story
or photo about them. The challenge is “</i><b><a href="https://www.amyjohnsoncrow.com/52-ancestors-in-52-weeks/">52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks.</a></b><i>”</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;"><i>Wendy</i></span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">©</span> 2021, <i>Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.</i></p></div>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17863357756727783017noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7429612700924625855.post-7795325965027670272021-12-21T08:00:00.001-05:002021-12-21T08:00:14.669-05:0052 Ancestors - LINES: George<p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiprzcmtxBOI0rQFj25Gdum2jdCZMFW4n6JmegxIGFLkDqfBJWRVTOg1e9y4fvpOxmUVFZ2kWCWXFZtRpudM5T2OJ_N-lopkHzuNDTs4CLcN8DdJuZbeK7IfNJSIHXhFrfPm9v-uG15Af8e8bPDwsLRy0w6cFkCMvQb4M8WUZuy5It8xK1eK9nqLl0=s2000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1565" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiprzcmtxBOI0rQFj25Gdum2jdCZMFW4n6JmegxIGFLkDqfBJWRVTOg1e9y4fvpOxmUVFZ2kWCWXFZtRpudM5T2OJ_N-lopkHzuNDTs4CLcN8DdJuZbeK7IfNJSIHXhFrfPm9v-uG15Af8e8bPDwsLRy0w6cFkCMvQb4M8WUZuy5It8xK1eK9nqLl0=w313-h400" width="313" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mary Eleanor Davis (1929-2005)<br />College graduation photo</td></tr></tbody></table><br />My mother was beautiful. Always. As a baby. As a little
girl. As a teenager. As a grown woman and mother. And right on up to the day
she died.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">Needless to say, she had lots of beaus before Daddy came
along.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">When the new owner of my grandparents’ house uncovered a
50-year old treasure trove of my family’s STUFF in the attic, my mother’s years
of “sewing her wild oats” came to light. Stacks of letters from college friends
showed that her high school honey Dickie wasn’t the only one to steal her heart.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">Bob. Pete. George. Graham.</p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">Momma saved lots of letters. I’m guessing some did not
get saved at all. Judging by just the number of saves, you would think Graham
was the #1 contender. However, Momma’s friends always asked about George. How
are things with George? Are you still seeing George? When will you see George?
What’s up with George?</p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">Surprisingly, there are only 3 letters from George, all
written in the summer of 1948. Momma had finished her time at Shenandoah
College and was home for the summer prior to entering Madison College.
Meanwhile, George was taking classes at Shenandoah. I am not sure whether he
was trying to catch up or get ahead. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">Given this week’s theme “Lines,” this letter fits the
bill.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">I won’t print the entire letter. George gets rather
mushy.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p> </o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgP2nJ9H9I3wRp5OZq8gsoKVY4jRZlSMo4NK0fIXMGua8racHvPkGJH8OgWUus4DWEYE6KJUdeiLt_Xv4h8kBNKPx6xg1uQ0HhROvonU3QHJmZ7lX36paqmBoEHmCJvpRuaqar4wNSePl9tFwnRlDXVzsvbu4omla1cu7EvMKuBZGEqN57N-wbejTU=s495" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="349" data-original-width="495" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgP2nJ9H9I3wRp5OZq8gsoKVY4jRZlSMo4NK0fIXMGua8racHvPkGJH8OgWUus4DWEYE6KJUdeiLt_Xv4h8kBNKPx6xg1uQ0HhROvonU3QHJmZ7lX36paqmBoEHmCJvpRuaqar4wNSePl9tFwnRlDXVzsvbu4omla1cu7EvMKuBZGEqN57N-wbejTU=w400-h283" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #45818e; font-family: georgia;">Tuesday<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #45818e; font-family: georgia;">Darling<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #45818e; font-family: georgia;">For some reason or other I was very much in doubt that I
would hear from you. I knew you for such a short time that I figured that you
throught [sic] I was giving you a big line. I did rather rush things quite a
bit but it was because I knew you were going to leave so soon.</span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"> </p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: medium;">Hmm – I wonder what his pick-up line was.</span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgVOTdbCl3fsyGMTZESqPNV9uy6tl14ghDJJdxNiJgMhDaNdTkMNxgZkVxMi7N5DjHNxhhM-Hmf5Ym7n4tvU9sRYyibr6trou-a_y3DIhkMWpyIDw9ctg3Vb2_EWTkOvSlV6TD6uIDT-_4Ds6mpcfomX3rNeJIcw7Vtdf-xII9NOHNwbscEKvyWiRM=s540" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="281" data-original-width="540" height="167" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgVOTdbCl3fsyGMTZESqPNV9uy6tl14ghDJJdxNiJgMhDaNdTkMNxgZkVxMi7N5DjHNxhhM-Hmf5Ym7n4tvU9sRYyibr6trou-a_y3DIhkMWpyIDw9ctg3Vb2_EWTkOvSlV6TD6uIDT-_4Ds6mpcfomX3rNeJIcw7Vtdf-xII9NOHNwbscEKvyWiRM=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #45818e; font-family: times;"><i>Amy Johnson Crow continues to challenge genealogy
bloggers and non-bloggers alike to think about our ancestors and share a story
or photo about them. The challenge is “</i><b><a href="https://www.amyjohnsoncrow.com/52-ancestors-in-52-weeks/">52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks.</a></b><i>”</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;"><i>Wendy</i></span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">©</span> 2021, <i>Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.</i><o:p></o:p></p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17863357756727783017noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7429612700924625855.post-83893688762389637782021-12-21T01:30:00.001-05:002021-12-21T01:30:00.227-05:00On This Day - Violetta<p>On 21 December 1989, my dear grandaunt Violetta Davis
Ryan died in Harrisonburg, Virginia.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEkcKeBoRzvsbYsnxoPDQvqwxnERThOnDPi15_NJ8FQbQW6QoLI87EtzY2QrpHEovu0cAGbCmDDlcqyro95CoTQUEqAL97LggQQ8T0ej5MCb-SOzWdSk86SITEPWKadl8NlT-vtZ6XynU/s1426/Violetta+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1426" data-original-width="1016" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEkcKeBoRzvsbYsnxoPDQvqwxnERThOnDPi15_NJ8FQbQW6QoLI87EtzY2QrpHEovu0cAGbCmDDlcqyro95CoTQUEqAL97LggQQ8T0ej5MCb-SOzWdSk86SITEPWKadl8NlT-vtZ6XynU/w285-h400/Violetta+X.jpg" width="285" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">4 Jan 1905 - 21 Dec 1989</td></tr></tbody></table></o:p></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD90K3uN9IyyBamt54UVKyzJEat939bzVUu_oCQ85bn0C74Uh9g7y4jwClREQ35cPbK1bJsAqUgmJTY6ZvPaDFe3RAh7Ru1geRohIsO4tPz-fgyuUxHC0ImfZZzFTs6PV4Rp_lqZ5UI3I/s1500/Grad+1923+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1097" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD90K3uN9IyyBamt54UVKyzJEat939bzVUu_oCQ85bn0C74Uh9g7y4jwClREQ35cPbK1bJsAqUgmJTY6ZvPaDFe3RAh7Ru1geRohIsO4tPz-fgyuUxHC0ImfZZzFTs6PV4Rp_lqZ5UI3I/w293-h400/Grad+1923+X.jpg" width="293" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">College Graduation 1923<br />State Normal School Harrisonburg</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></o:p></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_ZK96iD7O1wfhFNoYIpO6TAUZq429v8mPVyMaMlVKsGCSCujBRVggoqSWAFXpkUp59BKbn0uUQ2NkjvmLxWKssdBs4yaAn7CRrQh2S9wr0CCO839-V4U0JkKP05hyduTTyOBD6EHr4d8/s1500/scan0062+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="975" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_ZK96iD7O1wfhFNoYIpO6TAUZq429v8mPVyMaMlVKsGCSCujBRVggoqSWAFXpkUp59BKbn0uUQ2NkjvmLxWKssdBs4yaAn7CRrQh2S9wr0CCO839-V4U0JkKP05hyduTTyOBD6EHr4d8/w260-h400/scan0062+X.jpg" width="260" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1st year as a teacher</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjBthyphenhyphenZTtzsOmOZYlhe7POCe6xTpsOLFc5tAySBokaoASS9MjBMSVMWy8N0WPSLjidlhnGDIyNjTVtV218ISy1q_nhVwlCqyZsmLlGlI6oMQ0OFNhN3b5QvjaofPNSIfk62iKyMWcbpZQ/s1604/V+1950-51+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1604" data-original-width="1080" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjBthyphenhyphenZTtzsOmOZYlhe7POCe6xTpsOLFc5tAySBokaoASS9MjBMSVMWy8N0WPSLjidlhnGDIyNjTVtV218ISy1q_nhVwlCqyZsmLlGlI6oMQ0OFNhN3b5QvjaofPNSIfk62iKyMWcbpZQ/w269-h400/V+1950-51+X.jpg" width="269" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of my favorite pictures<br />about 1951</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2d5wafKs47HeGDHvWg4maB-yCradjB_NAjHsjkwulL50rCWa-RHA5-PLkLBueJahrHo7ZBlp1AxyodSH2lU3neQeLIP8qgUFevwJwLuwFnt3f58nGv9UcuohMRMPI0jmV0Tk9lu6zP2I/s1747/Vi+Dec+1981+BW+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1183" data-original-width="1747" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2d5wafKs47HeGDHvWg4maB-yCradjB_NAjHsjkwulL50rCWa-RHA5-PLkLBueJahrHo7ZBlp1AxyodSH2lU3neQeLIP8qgUFevwJwLuwFnt3f58nGv9UcuohMRMPI0jmV0Tk9lu6zP2I/w400-h271/Vi+Dec+1981+BW+X.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dec 1981</td></tr></tbody></table><i style="font-family: georgia; font-size: xx-large;">Wendy</i></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">© </span>2021, <i>Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.</i></p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17863357756727783017noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7429612700924625855.post-61961611135851855882021-12-17T02:00:00.001-05:002021-12-17T02:00:00.437-05:00Photo Friday - Fourth Christmas<p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0s3wZPFiERSZAqzUSRlpEBdlQfA3rSus_pk6kYzQGiLKUzgDXVO68CRqB0JXP4XiOW2uyp9g34FqdSGbU0FKdJdLEY-E4qNhLANllmI7vm0WbB5Xw3o_hAMnXdygMxpuK12O0n8lEIqs/s1286/Christmas+1976+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1286" data-original-width="1213" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0s3wZPFiERSZAqzUSRlpEBdlQfA3rSus_pk6kYzQGiLKUzgDXVO68CRqB0JXP4XiOW2uyp9g34FqdSGbU0FKdJdLEY-E4qNhLANllmI7vm0WbB5Xw3o_hAMnXdygMxpuK12O0n8lEIqs/w378-h400/Christmas+1976+X.jpg" width="378" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gary and Jan in front of our tree<br />Christmas 1976</td></tr></tbody></table></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing">Since the pictures are so bad and the tree not very
pretty in 1975, I’ve skipped ahead to our 4<sup>th</sup> Christmas. We had moved into a
larger apartment. Our good friends Gary and Jan came over for a game night.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;"><i>Wendy</i></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">© 2021, <i>Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.</i></p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17863357756727783017noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7429612700924625855.post-67645634658587453982021-12-12T02:00:00.001-05:002021-12-12T02:00:00.202-05:00On This Day - Orvin Davis<p>On 12 December 1899, my granddaddy Orvin Owen Davis was
born to Walter and Mary Frances Jollett Davis in Shenandoah, VA.</p><p><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8gjPAccHcQdsoKnURhypthJVDQpSU_oNljRzAVOsBd2_RvuCnBZcO8A_5n0lXXyEaQmS4ktDXFpBAwEZoM6_IGDTMnCYUbWBPhsSuqB6NtTzVMP6ao018A_qLprPbgkp12oBxC5deel8/s1500/Orvin+bowtie+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1160" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8gjPAccHcQdsoKnURhypthJVDQpSU_oNljRzAVOsBd2_RvuCnBZcO8A_5n0lXXyEaQmS4ktDXFpBAwEZoM6_IGDTMnCYUbWBPhsSuqB6NtTzVMP6ao018A_qLprPbgkp12oBxC5deel8/w309-h400/Orvin+bowtie+X.jpg" width="309" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">About 1901</td></tr></tbody></table></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCQVlDbu8oSbGl8dG9yNHZ-S0WV6CXFl621GVYb_iWsqM13WpXMnfoQ5ObcGLvbszQKxlbhLfEqk2wyW7OFy7QwOGZtjXGV2EnWJUCzDsp6p1em6mf59fkF9mOv1iNGDX6vUsYYANKrnY/s1500/OOD+2X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="941" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCQVlDbu8oSbGl8dG9yNHZ-S0WV6CXFl621GVYb_iWsqM13WpXMnfoQ5ObcGLvbszQKxlbhLfEqk2wyW7OFy7QwOGZtjXGV2EnWJUCzDsp6p1em6mf59fkF9mOv1iNGDX6vUsYYANKrnY/w251-h400/OOD+2X.jpg" width="251" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My favorite photo of Granddaddy</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN-Kcdz6Xhr_6PPZN2uWuKLuH16s1B7uY8v8loYZbqsXZ4e5gpE2Tzk9BIqJS0kM6Y_64FfAi1-_QoySbhM6y1ognKPILsfnN4Q3odQ2yJuhce4XTU4EFpiVl7ZoWl-EDG3uQvwTPYoDI/s1475/OO+Davis+2X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1475" data-original-width="859" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN-Kcdz6Xhr_6PPZN2uWuKLuH16s1B7uY8v8loYZbqsXZ4e5gpE2Tzk9BIqJS0kM6Y_64FfAi1-_QoySbhM6y1ognKPILsfnN4Q3odQ2yJuhce4XTU4EFpiVl7ZoWl-EDG3uQvwTPYoDI/w233-h400/OO+Davis+2X.jpg" width="233" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I don't know how old he was here,<br />but he was a young man, <br />probably in his late teens<br />or early twenties.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi18LPUf2FMWWSJuAQnbBSBpd0zSV_WBrysL9VPqecfTZzSfJYYOJSlXyYfU2p7ksW2_77snrSqQufsSD873Gr8xmpelNuPxCU4OCrjLx-ZpVkNqjkOlaSC6taRoyURcvpEwbV6LcwKiFw/s1500/OOD2+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1145" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi18LPUf2FMWWSJuAQnbBSBpd0zSV_WBrysL9VPqecfTZzSfJYYOJSlXyYfU2p7ksW2_77snrSqQufsSD873Gr8xmpelNuPxCU4OCrjLx-ZpVkNqjkOlaSC6taRoyURcvpEwbV6LcwKiFw/w305-h400/OOD2+X.jpg" width="305" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Definitely in his prime!</td></tr></tbody></table></div></div>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;"><i>Wendy</i></span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">© </span>2021, <i>Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.</i></p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17863357756727783017noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7429612700924625855.post-9730228222895624942021-12-10T02:00:00.001-05:002021-12-10T02:00:00.183-05:00Photo Friday - Second Christmas<p><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPWeZyWXXtSUyvfRjpd5wIHXomqGKQKHH6Fa57BxoWwgSU2YKAk4FticB4-O0XweTQQdl3vqGNAMtvlZzpBlNQ8tvVAaH-8sk2LvNf6BgewYsRvvj8pIGOLzb-4dDmE22ZFTrrslIKkRA/s1500/Christmas+1974+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1463" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPWeZyWXXtSUyvfRjpd5wIHXomqGKQKHH6Fa57BxoWwgSU2YKAk4FticB4-O0XweTQQdl3vqGNAMtvlZzpBlNQ8tvVAaH-8sk2LvNf6BgewYsRvvj8pIGOLzb-4dDmE22ZFTrrslIKkRA/w390-h400/Christmas+1974+X.jpg" width="390" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christmas 1974</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p>See the popcorn garland? We had invited Ruth Cooper, a retired school teacher who lived in an apartment upstairs, to come on down and string some popcorn with us. </p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;"><i>Wendy</i></span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">© </span>2021, <i>Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.</i><o:p></o:p></p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17863357756727783017noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7429612700924625855.post-15332904783361452152021-12-09T11:42:00.002-05:002021-12-09T11:42:45.911-05:0052 Ancestors - HOMEMADE: Carrying on the Tradition<p>I have been the lucky recipient of many family heirlooms
passed down to me. Quilts, crocheted doilies, and tables have been featured in
several of my blogs already.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><a href="https://jollettetc.blogspot.com/2012/04/to-z-april-challenge-q-is-for-quilters.html">Q is for Quilt</a></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><a href="https://jollettetc.blogspot.com/2018/04/a-to-z-april-challenge-d-is-for-doily.html" target="">D is for Doily</a></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><a href="https://jollettetc.blogspot.com/2018/04/a-to-z-april-challenge-t-is-for-table.html">T is for Table</a></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">I have also written about what an amazing seamstress my
mother was. From doll clothes for Shirley Temple, Barbie, and American Girl to
slipcovers, draperies, and bridal gowns, she did it all.<o:p></o:p></p>
<span style="color: blue;"><a href="https://jollettetc.blogspot.com/2019/04/a-to-z-april-challenge-i-is-for-ideal.html">I is for Ideal</a></span><div><span style="color: blue;"><a href="https://jollettetc.blogspot.com/2018/01/sepia-saturday-got-you-covered.html">Got You Covered</a></span></div><div><span style="color: blue;"><a href="https://jollettetc.blogspot.com/2012/08/sepia-saturday-before-bridezilla-roamed.html">Before Bridezilla Roamed</a></span> <p class="MsoNoSpacing">The creative gene must be strong in my family. Since retiring,
my husband Barry has become interested in woodworking. His father was a finish
carpenter by trade, but in his spare time he made little shelves for Barry’s
mother’s salt and pepper shaker collection. He also made this <b><a href="https://jollettetc.blogspot.com/2019/04/a-to-z-april-challenge-t-is-for-table.html">coffee table</a></b>.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1jAkv1mXYVEloCjLqwSUV0rtnlP8-fKsnAI4uRvxj8qjnS9BNvrXbxPQodZOoTyRDWofcORkIfM4bVCwJoHTsTNPGGotP_1QVBqTJ55ZX2UfzyWJcFe-VNs-Pj4b5Fgraqh1fAUNyFLw/s1500/Mathias+table+3X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="1500" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1jAkv1mXYVEloCjLqwSUV0rtnlP8-fKsnAI4uRvxj8qjnS9BNvrXbxPQodZOoTyRDWofcORkIfM4bVCwJoHTsTNPGGotP_1QVBqTJ55ZX2UfzyWJcFe-VNs-Pj4b5Fgraqh1fAUNyFLw/w400-h300/Mathias+table+3X.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Table made by Ervin Mathias</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">The wood came from trees growing on the family farm in
Timberville, Virginia. An ice storm in the late 1970s or early 80s broke
branches and damaged trees. Barry’s father cut down poplars, oaks, cedars,
walnut trees, and maples. He took them to a sawmill to have the sawyers do
whatever it is they do. Then he let the wood dry in an old chicken house. From
the various woods, he made Barry and his brothers and sisters each a coffee
table with a checkerboard center. No two tables are the same.</p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">The construction of the table is much like a BIG project
that Barry and I took on this past spring. Our daughter was drawn to some
geometric wood art that kept showing up on Pinterest. Several shops on Etsy sell
wood wall art ranging in price from $80 - $500 depending on size, materials,
and complexity.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: large;">I’m here to say they earn every bit of that price.</span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">This was the inspiration piece.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYGA-EcsUcuUUWBvJmCOjHku9epBokeWom0nRKcLLbAJEN7t48EU5cJwfTuJSuOf-uFfVCM8VMRnlXYJdmdJqATWf5svE0vx53lXOed_ebAwhBlp_itUS6BO5qHPnY0-mtX3GXq8U_U2s/s382/Inspiration+piece.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="202" data-original-width="382" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYGA-EcsUcuUUWBvJmCOjHku9epBokeWom0nRKcLLbAJEN7t48EU5cJwfTuJSuOf-uFfVCM8VMRnlXYJdmdJqATWf5svE0vx53lXOed_ebAwhBlp_itUS6BO5qHPnY0-mtX3GXq8U_U2s/w400-h211/Inspiration+piece.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">Our first plan was to use 1x2 wood from Lowes or Home
Depot and then stain it in various colors. However, after I figured out how
much wood we would need for a 24”x48” board, I realized this thing was going to
be too darn heavy.</p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">In a serendipitous moment, a neighbor walked by and saw
us in the driveway one day working on some other project. Our neighbor has
quite a collection of tools like you see in Ben Napier’s shop on “Home Town.”
He gave us LOTS of helpful advice, including where to find ¼” craft wood in a
variety of species. We didn’t even know such things exist.</p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">We purchased a nice grade of plywood for the base and
then drew the design, numbering each strip to correspond to the wood strips
purchased from Ocooch Hardwoods in Wisconsin – maple, walnut, and mahogany. We
were able to select the width and thickness saving us from having to rip the
wood. <o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFaecrYGg-lAocq7cKLkgz_WFrVfnsIO5YFVNPPxTXoUXUnK0inMZJogPgB1G73Lb_t3WYPlbW1s9Ei_cUym7_iKNc5gbCAdpp0UmKwL6LMknDTz15sYhmuSrMsYGuTT9noe1DdeSYO7c/s1778/Plan+1+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1778" data-original-width="1333" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFaecrYGg-lAocq7cKLkgz_WFrVfnsIO5YFVNPPxTXoUXUnK0inMZJogPgB1G73Lb_t3WYPlbW1s9Ei_cUym7_iKNc5gbCAdpp0UmKwL6LMknDTz15sYhmuSrMsYGuTT9noe1DdeSYO7c/w300-h400/Plan+1+X.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Design drawn on plywood <br />and first pieces of wood glued in place</td></tr></tbody></table>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">Following our neighbor’s good advice, we started in the middle
and glued only a few pieces at a time, allowing an hour or so before adding
more. We also left the outer strips long extending beyond the edge of the
plywood.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbR5bwhbAa3S0bUE5NrRb0mTTE9K6rI20T1J41Zw0jMhP6wIjKFjvGTJ322CSdVAr8zJ1uc_jxa1R_lX5VtYyLjuCDSIQoWt8-2iSI8XOGSlZePunundWGCqahMZYVGXoWpGsauleN-fM/s1778/Plan+2+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1778" data-original-width="1333" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbR5bwhbAa3S0bUE5NrRb0mTTE9K6rI20T1J41Zw0jMhP6wIjKFjvGTJ322CSdVAr8zJ1uc_jxa1R_lX5VtYyLjuCDSIQoWt8-2iSI8XOGSlZePunundWGCqahMZYVGXoWpGsauleN-fM/w300-h400/Plan+2+X.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All the strips glued in place.<br />We stained the center "medallion"<br />with red mahogany.</td></tr></tbody></table></o:p><br /></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing">The neighbor trimmed the edges with his fancy shmancy
table saw.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRE81_OTuEZN8zA7xjnSJM8QLhcwvAnqUtCIZhyphenhyphenPixhop8GhT-mBNxyMp8si9qdgj8CwymbmH5WoCxydGELvtNLi7tU91HFMdKe2TK5IUGtM8rqifA-rFDlcOpSQ7D940MA23e-ay9tmk/s1778/Edges+trimmed+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1778" data-original-width="1333" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRE81_OTuEZN8zA7xjnSJM8QLhcwvAnqUtCIZhyphenhyphenPixhop8GhT-mBNxyMp8si9qdgj8CwymbmH5WoCxydGELvtNLi7tU91HFMdKe2TK5IUGtM8rqifA-rFDlcOpSQ7D940MA23e-ay9tmk/w300-h400/Edges+trimmed+X.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trimmed and ready<br />for finishing touches</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">I applied 2 coats of sealer.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQoSCdahtmBKnS3NlxM3wJ059kgNUu9JLT1QdJkquU7H0lbW2sbcOMx1NfK_7EPimd29fd-iYp7cqq3JOOhe-IyJzSEvPN5Ah1nVjPSEwK_kmg8_S6Uv9dN-xag0iJIOrEXy4y2MvdW0Q/s1778/Applying+finish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1778" data-original-width="1333" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQoSCdahtmBKnS3NlxM3wJ059kgNUu9JLT1QdJkquU7H0lbW2sbcOMx1NfK_7EPimd29fd-iYp7cqq3JOOhe-IyJzSEvPN5Ah1nVjPSEwK_kmg8_S6Uv9dN-xag0iJIOrEXy4y2MvdW0Q/w300-h400/Applying+finish.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I rubbed on Danish oil </td></tr></tbody></table><br /></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">Barry made the frame from just plain 1x2 poplar which we stained
dark walnut. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYLndqUu9N41Rg8vKY3eSMPk2AC2mLfLpW9CMo2V2KV5m1NA1Ixkenn4_Fnu5zj32BndOe09xCQY7FPVCZ5F8-n0WLSkuUMN-9B2_DqNyq45HwU9HioMmoYXBxaFueIKQTwzeBoZOHbik/s1778/Fitting+for+frame+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1778" data-original-width="1333" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYLndqUu9N41Rg8vKY3eSMPk2AC2mLfLpW9CMo2V2KV5m1NA1Ixkenn4_Fnu5zj32BndOe09xCQY7FPVCZ5F8-n0WLSkuUMN-9B2_DqNyq45HwU9HioMmoYXBxaFueIKQTwzeBoZOHbik/w300-h400/Fitting+for+frame+X.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><o:p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBzCG9CEYzU491KPOuinA3Ua3bYq8_py_VSEzY3RYZez0gRP0qF-EpYIvRKsRXCJlI2hKNGoYD79y1_8PknbU_rkYAOc2uIkGYLzCToAdjIZelxI5fG6eXs91igaCECQOXfm5VdUyclR0/s1778/Frame+finished+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1333" data-original-width="1778" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBzCG9CEYzU491KPOuinA3Ua3bYq8_py_VSEzY3RYZez0gRP0qF-EpYIvRKsRXCJlI2hKNGoYD79y1_8PknbU_rkYAOc2uIkGYLzCToAdjIZelxI5fG6eXs91igaCECQOXfm5VdUyclR0/w400-h300/Frame+finished+X.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With completed frame</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></o:p></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBIxdkxaHDOK3R-wqj_3j659UC_TNkPTQs9pRUwVduUUHmUistyN_ru7qZyE3qQp60Bx9M18X9RTN3vGejnEDupYgWPleTyPqSF4IyiThVeRKqlx_ZbMAOlPiJwTluwKKUYAlqs208cXo/s1778/Done+1+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1778" data-original-width="1333" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBIxdkxaHDOK3R-wqj_3j659UC_TNkPTQs9pRUwVduUUHmUistyN_ru7qZyE3qQp60Bx9M18X9RTN3vGejnEDupYgWPleTyPqSF4IyiThVeRKqlx_ZbMAOlPiJwTluwKKUYAlqs208cXo/w300-h400/Done+1+X.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Complete - <br />propped up on our porch just to get <br />a picture</td></tr></tbody></table></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">We are pretty proud with how it turned out. Oh, there are
some places where we had to cheat. Our neighbor warned us that no matter how
careful we were, it would not be perfect. And it isn’t.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEtxByIkIQc1PqmOAdceZAQ4jVs3N_4SDFZr0FlwAIqREJ0MDEO0NakTA7JZ-H4rscMxkJvCM3mVNm1pEBaeeII9mNxtW5uGorX2uBxwz5bIAp_B8dWcRuRf_NYGsN8v9eaf2CTggvkrM/s605/Ainsley+edited.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="605" data-original-width="442" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEtxByIkIQc1PqmOAdceZAQ4jVs3N_4SDFZr0FlwAIqREJ0MDEO0NakTA7JZ-H4rscMxkJvCM3mVNm1pEBaeeII9mNxtW5uGorX2uBxwz5bIAp_B8dWcRuRf_NYGsN8v9eaf2CTggvkrM/w293-h400/Ainsley+edited.jpg" width="293" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finished and hanging<br />(<i>Grandbaboo loves a ladder!</i>)</td></tr></tbody></table></o:p></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing">I’m not sure it will achieve “family heirloom” status,
but it had better not show up at Goodwill. I will come back and haunt somebody! <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5MKajV-Tvn8w40vzWCQtfp3DzaHsXwBO9ki-cyw2j0jHt9C6-vjPMEugJS1m0vN1Z1utU6vMtFe0pe7QW4Xv0C7_Ns6f1gyxDlMYXmAP3SpNneUPF9B6dMgyUglM7S2tHkKcbqjcC-Fk/s540/safe_image.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="281" data-original-width="540" height="167" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5MKajV-Tvn8w40vzWCQtfp3DzaHsXwBO9ki-cyw2j0jHt9C6-vjPMEugJS1m0vN1Z1utU6vMtFe0pe7QW4Xv0C7_Ns6f1gyxDlMYXmAP3SpNneUPF9B6dMgyUglM7S2tHkKcbqjcC-Fk/s320/safe_image.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #45818e; font-family: times;"><i>Amy Johnson Crow continues to challenge genealogy
bloggers and non-bloggers alike to think about our ancestors and share a story
or photo about them. The challenge is “<b><a href="https://www.amyjohnsoncrow.com/52-ancestors-in-52-weeks/">52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks.</a></b>”</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;"><i>Wendy</i></span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">©</span> 2021, <i>Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.</i></p></div>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17863357756727783017noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7429612700924625855.post-74903103750114130632021-12-08T02:00:00.019-05:002021-12-08T02:00:00.196-05:00On This Day - Mae Holland<p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFlAoYltiTVPZJCh9gaEwG_nmCYEkJZwgOUlXV5X2TT3I9Om1G6bOHSiFEDUiKAt7hpM-g8ujKRPvfhIK5_v0aFFk4I1kvAX_d4zLHZTeqkCBkYuOl6X_fCLvUX81dxklI3q7w5DmoKlc/s772/Mae+X.tif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="772" data-original-width="434" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFlAoYltiTVPZJCh9gaEwG_nmCYEkJZwgOUlXV5X2TT3I9Om1G6bOHSiFEDUiKAt7hpM-g8ujKRPvfhIK5_v0aFFk4I1kvAX_d4zLHZTeqkCBkYuOl6X_fCLvUX81dxklI3q7w5DmoKlc/w225-h400/Mae+X.tif" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mary "Mae" Killeen Holland<br />5 Sep 1898 - 8 Dec 1980</td></tr></tbody></table><br />On Dec 8, 1980, my sweet grandaunt Mary “Mae” Killeen
Holland died in Portsmouth, Virginia of congestive heart failure.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1wK2bptf41aM8g3deUJPNgV3E9ze2Lct9TGAZmMOBpJjr5Vm8mTt0IsQF5Jop6aCV526jm-JjaAzSuLE2XdoKwnTOeqhVk6GylEnxhnJqXOQIljFf9B0B8I22A5jMCwQ9Nd045e-gj34/s1500/Holland+Family+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1186" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1wK2bptf41aM8g3deUJPNgV3E9ze2Lct9TGAZmMOBpJjr5Vm8mTt0IsQF5Jop6aCV526jm-JjaAzSuLE2XdoKwnTOeqhVk6GylEnxhnJqXOQIljFf9B0B8I22A5jMCwQ9Nd045e-gj34/w316-h400/Holland+Family+X.jpg" width="316" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cliff and Mae with their children<br />John and Ebbie</td></tr></tbody></table></o:p></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKI13JeGcTw_dNMcdt843AgS50NlTIJKIZGlzfVIuSmZg4wxDqy2XNuEaFgeR5u_E2ILgi7j7lcVs7LmSh_3KWQxKzTKqq5ONeLnWb_Xnmg2O6i8zapqlEkdi1IBd6pwTkpf5wNW_NjlM/s1032/Helen+and+Mae+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1032" data-original-width="704" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKI13JeGcTw_dNMcdt843AgS50NlTIJKIZGlzfVIuSmZg4wxDqy2XNuEaFgeR5u_E2ILgi7j7lcVs7LmSh_3KWQxKzTKqq5ONeLnWb_Xnmg2O6i8zapqlEkdi1IBd6pwTkpf5wNW_NjlM/w273-h400/Helen+and+Mae+X.jpg" width="273" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aunt Helen and Aunt Mae<br />Helen captioned this picture<br />"Masked Dancers"<br />about 1918</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;"><i>Wendy</i></span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">© </span>2021, <i>Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.</i><o:p></o:p></p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17863357756727783017noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7429612700924625855.post-87964920413749243442021-12-03T02:00:00.001-05:002021-12-03T02:00:00.194-05:00Photo Friday - First Christmas<p>Our first Christmas in our first apartment</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHNRQNYm629UIyvPYUNnsJRWoszXvLIsuPOVUde2cPKIso_AKy0PU3rEdxnkAKjoZ8DXyDUPEAs__7EXhyklUgZkuSKXclehqoHZv0a3nm-cbuiQv1rsIYCROAbw5fpRMiWuu2dUZLai8/s1325/Christmas+1973+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1325" data-original-width="1309" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHNRQNYm629UIyvPYUNnsJRWoszXvLIsuPOVUde2cPKIso_AKy0PU3rEdxnkAKjoZ8DXyDUPEAs__7EXhyklUgZkuSKXclehqoHZv0a3nm-cbuiQv1rsIYCROAbw5fpRMiWuu2dUZLai8/w632-h640/Christmas+1973+X.jpg" width="632" /></a></div><p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;"><i>Wendy</i></span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">© </span>2021, <i>Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved</i>.<o:p></o:p></p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17863357756727783017noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7429612700924625855.post-85300957865086300552021-12-01T08:56:00.002-05:002021-12-01T08:56:23.832-05:0052 Ancestors - STRENGTH: Sallie vs George<p class="MsoNoSpacing">Probably the strongest woman in my family tree is my
great-grandaunt Sallie Catherine Jollett. She married, divorced, and raised three
children alone in a time when divorce was a badge of shame. The story of what
she endured is the stuff of Hollywood.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG92mR5PCBhZlpWXzNI9M8lKSa8WPkxiBo3__UxmTCkSn5hQG8rI2snrzrc3ycSjmg7Z9judRDGY5y_ljpTTjsg-xjn4HjGSCdROJLZgLLvec1StmVJnVuLV2tuSTmyXtM8MmVHyim13o/s1200/Salliemaybe+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="727" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG92mR5PCBhZlpWXzNI9M8lKSa8WPkxiBo3__UxmTCkSn5hQG8rI2snrzrc3ycSjmg7Z9judRDGY5y_ljpTTjsg-xjn4HjGSCdROJLZgLLvec1StmVJnVuLV2tuSTmyXtM8MmVHyim13o/w242-h400/Salliemaybe+X.jpg" width="242" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sallie's wedding photo</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">At age 19, she married George Thomas Clift of Page County
and moved to Shenandoah where George worked for the Norfolk & Western
Railroad. They started a family right away. Within two years, they were the
perfect American family with a little boy and a little girl. In five years,
though, their perfect life was no more. Their two precious children died due to
injuries from a house fire. Little Vernon died just 2 weeks after his 5<sup>th</sup>
birthday, and Daisey followed a week later.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzNSUUgPt5UxJzE_W47y7OCg1_VDmY4atgs6uofkQ5zeXb9m4GhVEunpiUwLGtU7QK6PiSsF69Z1uluovIpH2hr6gWHRuIq1PF82EHrHB3B-LS4X5AXk7VfdDx6dd7EsBYpt8HRPN5urQ/s1500/Clifts+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1150" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzNSUUgPt5UxJzE_W47y7OCg1_VDmY4atgs6uofkQ5zeXb9m4GhVEunpiUwLGtU7QK6PiSsF69Z1uluovIpH2hr6gWHRuIq1PF82EHrHB3B-LS4X5AXk7VfdDx6dd7EsBYpt8HRPN5urQ/w306-h400/Clifts+X.jpg" width="306" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">George and Sallie<br />with Vernon and Daisy</td></tr></tbody></table></o:p></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing">Although Sallie and George had 3 more children, their
marriage was never the same. George’s work with the railroad required quite a
bit of travel allowing him to explore a number of relationships with other
women. For over fourteen years he kept many women on the side. The whole sordid
story of numerous affairs is part of public record in the divorce case known as
Chancery Cause 1913-07, Sallie C. Clift vs George T. Clift. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">In 1913, Sallie discovered love letters hidden in various
places around their house and property. There was no reason for Sallie to
whimper and beg George to remain faithful. There was no reason to profess her
love anymore. His treatment of her had become abusive over time, both verbally
and physically. When Sallie found the letters, she also found some inner
strength to take action.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">Sallie tracked down the latest girlfriend and knocked on
her door. Sallie demanded she hand over George’s love letters or she would tell
the girl’s parents.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgszXZleUg7ByDepeobK11cf6LoWXkXjcodup4t0_v7V5PB3ICRSySvH6faokwYYnYPbWWlnFuyqNs_wtmxrxQ50OLBhD9KEtP57VZEFtl2pb75wYqDNT0DKFlN_GynFTzBL51PGw8ougw/s1500/George+and+other+woman+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="390" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgszXZleUg7ByDepeobK11cf6LoWXkXjcodup4t0_v7V5PB3ICRSySvH6faokwYYnYPbWWlnFuyqNs_wtmxrxQ50OLBhD9KEtP57VZEFtl2pb75wYqDNT0DKFlN_GynFTzBL51PGw8ougw/w104-h400/George+and+other+woman+X.jpg" width="104" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">George and<br />a mistress</td></tr></tbody></table></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />With over 160 pages of love letters, photos, and
postcards, the evidence against George is overwhelming. One postcard came from
a long-time girlfriend who always signed off with words like “Your true girl”
or “Your little girl.”</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p> </o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHpr7Yp8r6gD7HkxMsQgFCSj0ehJUNRt9Q-McSrvdxsyvzcGOe68xpqhXG5J0IuG-kPJS9u3aa0mPQU-i1_EihjHCjgokOxrfWGAtj13cLDCfLRzDuGNNeT6ESWENL5_QFRYGg_qK8Y-Y/s1000/Clift+Postcard+2X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="654" data-original-width="1000" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHpr7Yp8r6gD7HkxMsQgFCSj0ehJUNRt9Q-McSrvdxsyvzcGOe68xpqhXG5J0IuG-kPJS9u3aa0mPQU-i1_EihjHCjgokOxrfWGAtj13cLDCfLRzDuGNNeT6ESWENL5_QFRYGg_qK8Y-Y/w400-h261/Clift+Postcard+2X.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_InhLjBWVoUIlZeP2KzXlY_6sAVGmjfX0TDZBZ7J5XBJdkivMBbAkWp3KP3KuXnG0qKQu6FgRCbXL8IVtoTWy6XGDCPwRyq5sIMR98looAf0_KVTPb8XsdI61pAmMwWWFx-T3rpq6_hA/s1000/Clift+Postcard+2+back+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="647" data-original-width="1000" height="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_InhLjBWVoUIlZeP2KzXlY_6sAVGmjfX0TDZBZ7J5XBJdkivMBbAkWp3KP3KuXnG0qKQu6FgRCbXL8IVtoTWy6XGDCPwRyq5sIMR98looAf0_KVTPb8XsdI61pAmMwWWFx-T3rpq6_hA/s320/Clift+Postcard+2+back+X.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="color: #45818e; font-family: georgia;"><i>From your true little girl. You can’t guess who</i></span><o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p><span style="color: #45818e; font-family: georgia;"><i>Mr. Cliff</i></span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #45818e; font-family: georgia;"><i>Roanoke </i></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #45818e; font-family: georgia;"><i>112</i></span> [possibly Carlisle Ave]</p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><br /></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><br /></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing">Their affair lasted for around seven years, and in all
that time, she apparently never learned to spell George’s last name. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">The other postcards were sent to Sallie from George. To
make ends meet, Sallie rented out some rooms, mostly to men who worked for the
railroad there in Shenandoah. A cloud of suspicion arose about poor Sallie with
neighbors whispering that she was running a bawdy house. Not so, but there it
is. George even helped fuel the rumor. Letters from his girlfriend at the time show
that he referred to Sallie as “the madam.”</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">The cruel streak that became George’s trademark is
evident in each postcard. Here is a card in which he made light of Sallie’s
economic woes.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlWVGdu3KnZw966LF2IuxAzRQpFZn4fMkDEAUCGxWiTCKmvzGI7xJhcsupENkQrOyPgYTH3oFZ_qusmpuPuB61BdeGPuh7_bW0Yp2S3HN5uLpgMHZvKG5_qSO0pQN8dD63K6rB5dC4PxM/s1000/Clift+Postcard+1+back+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="647" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlWVGdu3KnZw966LF2IuxAzRQpFZn4fMkDEAUCGxWiTCKmvzGI7xJhcsupENkQrOyPgYTH3oFZ_qusmpuPuB61BdeGPuh7_bW0Yp2S3HN5uLpgMHZvKG5_qSO0pQN8dD63K6rB5dC4PxM/w259-h400/Clift+Postcard+1+back+X.jpg" width="259" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOyyOXYGyHOETgx5GSZlDbMdlnYC4UY_EgRPTob9YXj1mDbPtFVxk34Swp5VaWhCJWiNUnwUlu7Q9jcxrX6RNAO_lFlBX1gY7PLBAGpibG3XGE3SYesDV2ZTZkWIDqiI4YpbTvQDjwx7E/s1000/Clift+Postcard+1X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="651" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOyyOXYGyHOETgx5GSZlDbMdlnYC4UY_EgRPTob9YXj1mDbPtFVxk34Swp5VaWhCJWiNUnwUlu7Q9jcxrX6RNAO_lFlBX1gY7PLBAGpibG3XGE3SYesDV2ZTZkWIDqiI4YpbTvQDjwx7E/w260-h400/Clift+Postcard+1X.jpg" width="260" /></a><br /></div><br />On the front of an otherwise innocuous postcard that
anyone might send apologizing for not visiting, he scribbled “Roomers Wanted.”
The back is even more hurtful though. If Sallie wanted to know why George
stayed away, it would cost her 50¢, the same amount boarders paid for a room in
Sallie’s house. As if to rub it in, he claimed he was “living fine,” signing
off with a silly “ta ta.”<p></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">If George had not proved himself one sadistic
son-of-a-gun already, there is this postcard to bear witness:</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq-nzRQRopG_vHrvHfn76Ed3yEptA3o_pUx85E7KYSM2U4TqXFRLc0zUp2dWTUjhudqiNVIiiWfespqGSNtyEnoZQapMUTTdqOv9q1qCmsCAa097rBmxqQXHtQzmnuY7Y4KDG0J-7BBrQ/s1000/Clift+Postcard+4+back+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="641" data-original-width="1000" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq-nzRQRopG_vHrvHfn76Ed3yEptA3o_pUx85E7KYSM2U4TqXFRLc0zUp2dWTUjhudqiNVIiiWfespqGSNtyEnoZQapMUTTdqOv9q1qCmsCAa097rBmxqQXHtQzmnuY7Y4KDG0J-7BBrQ/s320/Clift+Postcard+4+back+X.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #45818e; font-family: georgia;"><i>Everything is fine [?] till you look on the other Side
you___</i></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p> </o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSvskCblpn96ty5WbQIl2F0teqxwnV8rAW8iouDwViEN6qa_h1XIoQJo5i8gBJqr5FrY6FjhE-zk_Zuf5hvrNlSvoeMmzMb3tlOq7ZjQVYcVotup0VO_Mq6zRvY_zQ6I9Q-i_DshjggUA/s1000/Clift+Postcard+4+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="634" data-original-width="1000" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSvskCblpn96ty5WbQIl2F0teqxwnV8rAW8iouDwViEN6qa_h1XIoQJo5i8gBJqr5FrY6FjhE-zk_Zuf5hvrNlSvoeMmzMb3tlOq7ZjQVYcVotup0VO_Mq6zRvY_zQ6I9Q-i_DshjggUA/w400-h254/Clift+Postcard+4+X.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #45818e; font-family: georgia;"><i>“Release your clutch and retard your spark” </i></span>-- These expressions when applied to starting an automobile
mean one thing, but surely Sallie saw no humor in the mean-spirited commentary
on their marriage masquerading as a playful double-entendre. Was it intentional
that he addressed the card to “MISS” Sallie Clift?</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAyMQfGuvuCclvmwMdJXqxR3Y-tTc8snQvhpR4tTnjMq74H6Qod7bzBluks-HrTik2LsU-wwrKRGKnZqvoFqdiJSrzHe3Sn5U2MTHlFfFAQ0U3tunVXg-0F_p5M1EmNfHjQEeS5GpHTlY/s1500/Leonard+and+Raymond+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="957" data-original-width="1500" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAyMQfGuvuCclvmwMdJXqxR3Y-tTc8snQvhpR4tTnjMq74H6Qod7bzBluks-HrTik2LsU-wwrKRGKnZqvoFqdiJSrzHe3Sn5U2MTHlFfFAQ0U3tunVXg-0F_p5M1EmNfHjQEeS5GpHTlY/w400-h255/Leonard+and+Raymond+X.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leonard and Raymond</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The three Leonard children – Leonard, Raymond, and Alda -
deserved a better childhood than the one they experienced. At the ages of 14,
13, and 8, respectively, the Clift children testified against their father in
their parents’ divorce case.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><br /></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><br /></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><br /></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQjji0DZLKmIFeBnV7rW6ycOxvjnhyphenhyphenshRr93FMTfhh3xoHDGlaO0qB480TyKuijebQEXsEgQiTP0CQ0GH4OTO2jnQH-PPM2h7lvZxVuGwgQRO9ixorLP9gPawn-jcItMIBEGu8-94aCRc/s1500/Alda+B+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="945" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQjji0DZLKmIFeBnV7rW6ycOxvjnhyphenhyphenshRr93FMTfhh3xoHDGlaO0qB480TyKuijebQEXsEgQiTP0CQ0GH4OTO2jnQH-PPM2h7lvZxVuGwgQRO9ixorLP9gPawn-jcItMIBEGu8-94aCRc/w253-h400/Alda+B+X.jpg" width="253" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alda Clift</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNoSpacing">The testimony of 8-year old Alda is heart-wrenching.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzhImKwdlmOr0pKdl5fAU-9npOoSUSPd-zSQ_GmiWATBIwVs9HJxJdvxMXJWqYf3ElVDQB5v1nsKAoN8L09BzS7a0JOGLplgK9BO4saFlU744J6j_uChPgzmnS2BCYyhgdvGMTAeYP9GE/s564/Alda%2527s+deposition.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="564" data-original-width="549" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzhImKwdlmOr0pKdl5fAU-9npOoSUSPd-zSQ_GmiWATBIwVs9HJxJdvxMXJWqYf3ElVDQB5v1nsKAoN8L09BzS7a0JOGLplgK9BO4saFlU744J6j_uChPgzmnS2BCYyhgdvGMTAeYP9GE/w389-h400/Alda%2527s+deposition.JPG" width="389" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #45818e; font-family: georgia;"><i>Lawyer: Just tell me what happened when your father came to the house.</i></span></div><p></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #45818e; font-family: georgia;"><i><o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #45818e; font-family: georgia;"><i>Alda: When he come
in, Mama said she was not expecting him home, and he said I come home when you
are not expecting me. Mama asked him if
he wanted his supper and he said yesem, and he said what do you have for meals,
and Mama said 25 cents, and he gave her 25 cents and she laid it up on the shelf. Mama cooked his supper and he set down and he
eat and he pulled out a pass out of his pocket and said Sallie I got a pass for
Luray. I am going to Luray and get me a
divorce, and Mama went into the kitchen to wash the dishes and he got up and
came out there, and Mama came back in the dining room and Papa pulled out his
gun and held it up that away, and said I am going to kill you, and then me and
Mama commenced to scream and I said Papa put your gun back in your pocket and
then me and Mama went out doors, and he followed us out and when we got out to
the gate he got his gun out again and then he said I dare you to come back in
here, I will shoot your G__ D__ brains out; you or any other man. Me and Mama went on down street and then we
went hunting for Mr. Whiteside, and Eddie Bricker come to me and Mama first,
and we found Mr. Whiteside and he went on up home.<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #45818e; font-family: georgia;"><i>Lawyer: Where did
you and your Mama stay that night?<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #45818e; font-family: georgia;"><i>Alda: Down to Aunt Vick’s (meaning Mrs. Decatur Breeden)<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #45818e; font-family: georgia;"><i>Lawyer: Do you
want to stay with your mother or would you rather go live with your father?<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #45818e; font-family: georgia;"><i>Alda: I want to
stay with my Mama.<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #45818e; font-family: georgia;"><i>Lawyer: Why would
you not want to live with your father?<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #45818e; font-family: georgia;"><i>Alda: Because he
is too mean to me.</i></span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">All Sallie wanted was sole custody of their three
children and money to help take care of them. Although George tried to blame
Sallie, claiming SHE was the abusive one, SHE was the one who lost interest in
their marriage, SHE was the one who abandoned him by refusing to cook his meals,
the Court sided with her. On August 18, 1914, Sallie was granted a divorce <i>a
mensa et thoro</i> along with sole custody of their three children. Plus she was
awarded $7 a week in alimony. She had plenty of character witnesses who stood
by her and attested to her noble efforts to care for her family on her own. She
also had plenty of neighbors who witnessed George’s cruelty and violence toward
her.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">Even without 160 pages of love letters and postcards,
Sallie probably would have won her case. But it didn’t hurt.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwczVnHSBh9C3QQqJ5K5DP3ppalDr0VyWBEDrlHn3MTV8DdxwlYz46baayaLzY2hwd5xaHP3LnWBpz73puIbb8G-TndlUaNECGshivHSP89WbKS2DEhmd4zkkFVaZoYPSrDDLh0el90o4/s540/safe_image.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="281" data-original-width="540" height="167" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwczVnHSBh9C3QQqJ5K5DP3ppalDr0VyWBEDrlHn3MTV8DdxwlYz46baayaLzY2hwd5xaHP3LnWBpz73puIbb8G-TndlUaNECGshivHSP89WbKS2DEhmd4zkkFVaZoYPSrDDLh0el90o4/s320/safe_image.png" width="320" /></a></div><p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #45818e; font-family: times;"><i>Amy Johnson Crow continues to challenge genealogy
bloggers and non-bloggers alike to think about our ancestors and share a story
or photo about them. The challenge is “</i><b><a href="https://www.amyjohnsoncrow.com/52-ancestors-in-52-weeks/">52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks.</a></b><i>”</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;"><i>Wendy</i></span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">© 2021, <i>Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.</i></p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17863357756727783017noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7429612700924625855.post-47163375149682669222021-11-28T02:00:00.003-05:002021-11-28T02:00:00.211-05:00Sentimental Sunday<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEt4-YhLSC2p47t0Nnxif8TEZ_Tj-FANGXSCYgAaVMMGS40I0O8_gFu8d4KYPyFd2ZOKlTus0dV26xNfbI4XbTus4kh9mr6gcaEPdhzm7bxSPa7B8bY6GvYRLmfQBqXtVyfz7T_iK5jHc/s1920/Sentimental+img.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1279" data-original-width="1920" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEt4-YhLSC2p47t0Nnxif8TEZ_Tj-FANGXSCYgAaVMMGS40I0O8_gFu8d4KYPyFd2ZOKlTus0dV26xNfbI4XbTus4kh9mr6gcaEPdhzm7bxSPa7B8bY6GvYRLmfQBqXtVyfz7T_iK5jHc/s320/Sentimental+img.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Nov 29, 1914</b></span> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>–
Maxon Morris was born in Shenandoah, VA. He was the son of my grandfather’s
cousin Reba Coleman and James Mitchell Morris, but little Maxon died of
pneumonia on January 14, 1915.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAMq3y_wuEqchV-nEuSnPEx6wGVwup1cXYd3_SydTWeLFrvzu6AozgA5aYW2wGJz4xGHkVr83mbyViNXImAYN_Z6QCctaUqmSuiWQuJHwv9OAL1af1zVtpF0M3HCOzweDCVAio-xh_NfY/s800/Maxon+Morris+tomb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="532" data-original-width="800" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAMq3y_wuEqchV-nEuSnPEx6wGVwup1cXYd3_SydTWeLFrvzu6AozgA5aYW2wGJz4xGHkVr83mbyViNXImAYN_Z6QCctaUqmSuiWQuJHwv9OAL1af1zVtpF0M3HCOzweDCVAio-xh_NfY/w400-h266/Maxon+Morris+tomb.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coverstone Cemetery<br />Shenandoah, VA</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Dec 1, 1905</span></b> – Martha Willson Davis died in Rockingham
County, Virginia. She was my 2X great-grandmother.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy0i1Adi0TgvqUXG3EC5NuiSTAnJHmlN61ybil_yqI7x-mwbNOdWlvUFAgtSV6mdlD0sfN0HwbttiHda2B3QN5HPth7aJ414BeeXo4LPqKHJjA8nDUoeAp5LwIaud7lniD44prQk2lgVo/s1500/Martha+Wilson+Davis+maybe+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1075" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy0i1Adi0TgvqUXG3EC5NuiSTAnJHmlN61ybil_yqI7x-mwbNOdWlvUFAgtSV6mdlD0sfN0HwbttiHda2B3QN5HPth7aJ414BeeXo4LPqKHJjA8nDUoeAp5LwIaud7lniD44prQk2lgVo/s320/Martha+Wilson+Davis+maybe+X.jpg" width="229" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Martha Willson Davis<br />1833-1905</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Dec 4, 1887</span></b> – Fielding Jollett died in Rockingham County,
VA. He was my 3X great-grandfather. </p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;"><i>Wendy</i></span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">© </span>2021, <i>Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.</i><o:p></o:p></p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17863357756727783017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7429612700924625855.post-4602819844566798852021-11-26T02:00:00.010-05:002021-11-26T02:00:00.196-05:00Photo Friday - Emma and Jack<p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggooqym-od_KYwW1KMh4EbpD2XzjBMwOG4M73YVW7W2zWneWatxVL_WvMwUDa54UGOn_skwGpajDWtLY7iLmMI9IF10deuWngzk2OsHEHu4noqDSujokjfUGgQjdzhT8LHvlMnQX0U-Gk/s1500/Colemans+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1030" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggooqym-od_KYwW1KMh4EbpD2XzjBMwOG4M73YVW7W2zWneWatxVL_WvMwUDa54UGOn_skwGpajDWtLY7iLmMI9IF10deuWngzk2OsHEHu4noqDSujokjfUGgQjdzhT8LHvlMnQX0U-Gk/w440-h640/Colemans+X.jpg" width="440" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back: Mattie and John<br />Front Jack holding Russell, Minnie, Emma holding Reba</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing">On their anniversary – Emma Jollett (my great-grandmother’s
oldest sister) and Andrew Jackson Coleman married on 26 Nov 1880.</p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;"><i>Wendy</i></span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">© </span>2021, <i>Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.</i><o:p></o:p></p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17863357756727783017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7429612700924625855.post-78660564836032097432021-11-23T02:00:00.027-05:002021-11-23T02:00:00.215-05:0052 Ancestors - THANKFUL: Blog Revisited<p>This week I am thankful to be traveling to spend the
holidays with my daughter and her family. In lieu of a sappy post, I offer this
photo which I have used many times before.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDKv680shHZ-nKve8tjVFSZPhBWnLu6N2UggogR4srUYdzUprRaOfRTwPW0ZZygoB1Sngq7WxyzCOWKqgT_erJLSuAOKtoui4IIt3Rf9dwoR16ATRmRk6vIJD9tOR3_maX694a2Te-isc/s1500/Christmas+dinner+1964+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1492" data-original-width="1500" height="398" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDKv680shHZ-nKve8tjVFSZPhBWnLu6N2UggogR4srUYdzUprRaOfRTwPW0ZZygoB1Sngq7WxyzCOWKqgT_erJLSuAOKtoui4IIt3Rf9dwoR16ATRmRk6vIJD9tOR3_maX694a2Te-isc/w400-h398/Christmas+dinner+1964+X.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1964<br />My grandmother Lucille Davis, my uncle and aunt <br />Orvin Jr and "Scoop," me, cousin Glenn <br />I think my cousin Bobbie was hidden to my right</td></tr></tbody></table></o:p></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing">I looked back on my post from Thanksgiving week last year
and realize it’s pretty darn good. I don’t think I can improve on it. Read it
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://jollettetc.blogspot.com/2020/11/52-ancestors-gratitutde-how-i-learned.html">HERE</a></span></b> if you want to read how I learned to cook.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF0i6YnROZNwNBU98n5gTHHBNrd_-2s1WaCCL67laOqJ8p986D0RpgDKyz9KRhdeMfxdEJ0t8uzI76s-iKfksUffStGXTBkqEZ4nBOFgcQoek7ugTWYiL4-ixBDbncr3JHyO8WDzBUK04/s540/safe_image.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="281" data-original-width="540" height="167" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF0i6YnROZNwNBU98n5gTHHBNrd_-2s1WaCCL67laOqJ8p986D0RpgDKyz9KRhdeMfxdEJ0t8uzI76s-iKfksUffStGXTBkqEZ4nBOFgcQoek7ugTWYiL4-ixBDbncr3JHyO8WDzBUK04/s320/safe_image.png" width="320" /></a></div><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #45818e; font-family: times;"><i>Amy Johnson Crow continues to challenge genealogy
bloggers and non-bloggers alike to think about our ancestors and share a story
or photo about them. The challenge is “</i><b><a href="https://www.amyjohnsoncrow.com/52-ancestors-in-52-weeks/">52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks.</a></b><i>”</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;"><i>Wendy</i></span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">©</span> 2021, <i>Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.</i><o:p></o:p></p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17863357756727783017noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7429612700924625855.post-47704017857554936762021-11-23T02:00:00.012-05:002021-11-23T02:00:00.215-05:00On This Day - Ulysses and Sadie<p></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing">My great-grandmother’s youngest brother Ulysses F.
Jollett married Janeiro Sample “Sadie” Lamb on 23 November 1903.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzPwb0dy0Jwfupx8mNbnbKQTiR5GqOJDptSB8RDmW2SyGLUzBrY2keS4RRT21InIZqJ5_PkgtIPSo6LBkQ1e15cGjfcp58d1j7Oq-DEB6KDmDBJBdU-61h9NuqJdr43XfC7n_zDQkj-8U/s1500/Sadie+and+Ulysses+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1208" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzPwb0dy0Jwfupx8mNbnbKQTiR5GqOJDptSB8RDmW2SyGLUzBrY2keS4RRT21InIZqJ5_PkgtIPSo6LBkQ1e15cGjfcp58d1j7Oq-DEB6KDmDBJBdU-61h9NuqJdr43XfC7n_zDQkj-8U/w323-h400/Sadie+and+Ulysses+X.jpg" width="323" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sadie and Ulysses</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNvVkx-0p3pd2jJn0jmlMlUkwG6ynTkCESE9_0cqo_2mt9pBMpYvOIMgJ-qbTgKzCnkZTQxfUX4B2C1OW9wDryaHWu3cmAg4KxLZL5gkRIL8v2BYZiHM-q1zAIIx_QetY7gbmYAJADgug/s1200/Wedding+notice+29+Nov+1903+Times+Dispatch+Richmond+VA.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="1200" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNvVkx-0p3pd2jJn0jmlMlUkwG6ynTkCESE9_0cqo_2mt9pBMpYvOIMgJ-qbTgKzCnkZTQxfUX4B2C1OW9wDryaHWu3cmAg4KxLZL5gkRIL8v2BYZiHM-q1zAIIx_QetY7gbmYAJADgug/w400-h210/Wedding+notice+29+Nov+1903+Times+Dispatch+Richmond+VA.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">from <i>Richmond Times Dispatch</i><br />29 Nov 1903</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;"><i>Wendy</i></span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">© </span>2021, <i>Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.</i></p><p></p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17863357756727783017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7429612700924625855.post-21748850806453472642021-11-21T09:15:00.004-05:002021-11-29T07:43:43.679-05:0052 Ancestors - BIRTHDAYS: Party With the Olivers<p>What 80-year-old man gets invited to a 4-year old’s
birthday party? That was what I wanted to know when I stumbled upon this item
in the personals column.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxvWoBYOI-bQhycBgF-7z0moz3DuoSg8X7TunNheWC_SCtbLp2nuBi-eG7xrPqtCNvrGsvFKdMut7GM4rRvaBrlYKKp7uOF6HlDw0yKSEYoT1VtbhyphenhyphenW6BSLjnTa00yCHqLGGDkq34o9-0/s174/Personals+column+1916+who+were+the+Olivers+ed+1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="135" data-original-width="174" height="497" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxvWoBYOI-bQhycBgF-7z0moz3DuoSg8X7TunNheWC_SCtbLp2nuBi-eG7xrPqtCNvrGsvFKdMut7GM4rRvaBrlYKKp7uOF6HlDw0yKSEYoT1VtbhyphenhyphenW6BSLjnTa00yCHqLGGDkq34o9-0/w640-h497/Personals+column+1916+who+were+the+Olivers+ed+1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha34FGX0Tbx98a6IbBiRWyp6Sm6lE7JbFLVaBCDBHLN-5e6s64BliaNRIyve04ktfj553ZyopxN3C4alrtaBqfzBMw1D9oYNaA10X7BkPoyVFbgtcKfCZKlBAFGYJg0iR01r276HeD7MQ/s175/Personals+column+1916+who+were+the+Olivers+ed+2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="114" data-original-width="175" height="417" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha34FGX0Tbx98a6IbBiRWyp6Sm6lE7JbFLVaBCDBHLN-5e6s64BliaNRIyve04ktfj553ZyopxN3C4alrtaBqfzBMw1D9oYNaA10X7BkPoyVFbgtcKfCZKlBAFGYJg0iR01r276HeD7MQ/w640-h417/Personals+column+1916+who+were+the+Olivers+ed+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">from Harrisonburg <i>Daily News Record 21 Nov 1916</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br />I had other questions as well, mainly who were Mr. & Mrs. Charley Oliver, and were they related to my 2X great-grandfather James Franklin Jollett? Maybe they were related to his wife, Eliza Jane Coleman.<br /><br />Once I slowed down and paid attention to the names of the other guests, the invitation made more sense. I recognized S. V. Shiflett. He was son of James Franklin’s sister Lucretia Jollett Shiflett.<p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">The birthday girl was little Margaret Oliver, the one and
only daughter of Charley Oliver and Annie Florence Hott. Annie was a daughter
of Margaret Johnson and her second husband George Peter Hott. He died not long
after Annie was born. Margaret married a third time, and then a fourth time –
to Sell Shiflett making him Annie’s step-father and step-grandfather to
Margaret Oliver, the birthday girl. That makes James Franklin Jollett her step-great granduncle.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHDcACHQLmDVo9lWpPr35Lt_OJMIeSEd9h3qsioysIQoaxy_b3YPRpbkwWJe8Bi2Uz_4sbPg-w_Mislp4g4Fg95rBJMTuIljhM1xqW4TbYWk243wCTKigretlb6upX315g85SUmOdFOHc/s1500/Sell+and+Maggie+Shiflett+from+Susan+Huffman+X.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="854" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHDcACHQLmDVo9lWpPr35Lt_OJMIeSEd9h3qsioysIQoaxy_b3YPRpbkwWJe8Bi2Uz_4sbPg-w_Mislp4g4Fg95rBJMTuIljhM1xqW4TbYWk243wCTKigretlb6upX315g85SUmOdFOHc/w228-h400/Sell+and+Maggie+Shiflett+from+Susan+Huffman+X.jpg" width="228" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sell and Maggie<br /><i>photo courtesy Susan Huffman</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">I wonder what was on the menu and what lovely presents
Margaret received.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing">And what about her later life? Margaret’s name appeared over
300 times in the personals column of the Harrisonburg <i>Daily News Record</i> between
1935 and 1969. Here is what the articles reveal:<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><o:p> </o:p>Margaret never married but the fellas apparently missed out
on a good cook. In 1935 she took first place at the Rockingham County Fair for
Best Quince Preserves, Best Peach Preserves, and second place for Best Damson
Preserves.</li><li>Margaret and her mother visited people in hospitals in
nearby cities. They also vacationed together or with relatives going to places
like Pennsylvania, Colonial Beach, and Richmond.</li><li>Margaret was active in the Methodist Church, often
hosting her Sunday School class social events. She also chaired a conference
for the Methodist Women. For several years she was in charge of Christmas
Baskets for the needy.</li><li>The Olivers entertained family and friends. They were
also frequent guests at other parties and weddings. Margaret hosted a bridal
shower for a friend and sometimes served the cake at the weddings of her
cousins, nieces, and friends. </li><li>As the consummate hostess, Margaret was able to surprise
her mother with a birthday party.</li></ul><p></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL2S-yjZ9NuDqxWXo3sfRBb4Pm95_v8AT3ZbjJ5kPBJgo2t6yoJ9J0NE15OWTUKW-n2_1ECRZ42Ieb5PI7qsCKLiJlyhnw4Pzxyt-3dnJR927zeV5mH7uDxfpPBmzvNuUzO_quZ9wDhfY/s1558/Oliver+surprise+party+15+Mar+1957.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1558" data-original-width="450" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL2S-yjZ9NuDqxWXo3sfRBb4Pm95_v8AT3ZbjJ5kPBJgo2t6yoJ9J0NE15OWTUKW-n2_1ECRZ42Ieb5PI7qsCKLiJlyhnw4Pzxyt-3dnJR927zeV5mH7uDxfpPBmzvNuUzO_quZ9wDhfY/w184-h640/Oliver+surprise+party+15+Mar+1957.JPG" width="184" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">from <i>Daily News Record</i><br />15 Mar 1957</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing">Margaret’s death certificate shows that she had been an
employee at Madison College (now James Madison University – <b><span style="color: #674ea7;">G</span><span style="color: #bf9000;">O</span><span style="color: #674ea7;"> D</span><span style="color: #bf9000;">U</span><span style="color: #674ea7;">K</span><span style="color: #bf9000;">E</span><span style="color: #674ea7;">S</span><span style="color: #bf9000;">!</span></b>), but in
what capacity I do not know. Perhaps she had been a secretary, a cafeteria
worker, or even a dorm mother. </p><p class="MsoNoSpacing">Margaret died in 1969, 10 years after her father and 10 years before her mother. Just as they were always together in life, they are together in death.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFEhIdqU7eZlli2AT8Q5cChL3SZFS_KVIa6LAFy97QyoNzJP8y2yVJuI-8nIRTE6shVxqMqB8sRgGaReDtr0JMrcS1JI1Owpg-1siAzQ97pzfuBzjznc4dbdJ8HE_s3pxBylsSeiebzfE/s2048/Oliver+tombstone+FAG+139829715+Mt+Olivet+McGville.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFEhIdqU7eZlli2AT8Q5cChL3SZFS_KVIa6LAFy97QyoNzJP8y2yVJuI-8nIRTE6shVxqMqB8sRgGaReDtr0JMrcS1JI1Owpg-1siAzQ97pzfuBzjznc4dbdJ8HE_s3pxBylsSeiebzfE/w400-h225/Oliver+tombstone+FAG+139829715+Mt+Olivet+McGville.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">from Findagrave<br />Mt Olivet Cemetery, McGaheysville, VA</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQVJsSkw6lXSEdAMifa-t0W3Q1RWYC6kSk-QercsnuRFjHhBgbw5sWiQs4D9pXkLcNFkZJdeZU0DcTSjkNIEyCxIw-JijmtBwJhD2-dqbUkA9CgNKd3dvp_ruVDtZRG4gzpvnMHgsSlds/s540/safe_image.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="281" data-original-width="540" height="167" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQVJsSkw6lXSEdAMifa-t0W3Q1RWYC6kSk-QercsnuRFjHhBgbw5sWiQs4D9pXkLcNFkZJdeZU0DcTSjkNIEyCxIw-JijmtBwJhD2-dqbUkA9CgNKd3dvp_ruVDtZRG4gzpvnMHgsSlds/s320/safe_image.png" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #45818e; font-family: times;"><i>Amy Johnson Crow continues to challenge genealogy
bloggers and non-bloggers alike to think about our ancestors and share a story
or photo about them. The challenge is “<b><a href="https://www.amyjohnsoncrow.com/52-ancestors-in-52-weeks/">52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks.</a></b>”</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;"><i>Wendy</i></span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">©</span> 2021, <i>Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.</i><o:p></o:p></p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17863357756727783017noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7429612700924625855.post-41690940417088311872021-11-19T02:00:00.001-05:002021-11-19T02:00:00.208-05:00Photo Friday - Woody<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxh0aOUYHdhvV6BdZ2YcUOzC4itmNdeT7DpKPWi3Ftm8m6rd0J12tm8I47Y4LY7Ul1j4G-_ke9WmRjuVqHQqC_PAKcVEs6ztbLGnzNzPX3Obxf5Kvvt1FeS0P2xydlWnnoZJwrHdde6qo/s1500/Woody+5+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="810" data-original-width="1500" height="346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxh0aOUYHdhvV6BdZ2YcUOzC4itmNdeT7DpKPWi3Ftm8m6rd0J12tm8I47Y4LY7Ul1j4G-_ke9WmRjuVqHQqC_PAKcVEs6ztbLGnzNzPX3Obxf5Kvvt1FeS0P2xydlWnnoZJwrHdde6qo/w640-h346/Woody+5+X.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing">My grandaunt Velma Davis’s husband Woody Woodring
standing outside my great-grandparents’ home on Sixth Street in Shenandoah,
Virginia. It was probably around 1930. The house on the right across the street
was built about that time by my great-grandfather and grandfather right after
my mother was born in 1929.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><i style="font-family: georgia; font-size: xx-large;">Wendy</i></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">© </span>2021, <i>Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.</i></p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17863357756727783017noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7429612700924625855.post-4450727004698378042021-11-17T02:00:00.014-05:002021-11-17T02:00:00.207-05:00On This Day - James Franklin Jollett<p>On this day, November 17, 1836, my
great-great-grandfather James Franklin Jollett was born.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0UYcKOEnStpbINCBvNI45wWtwe6MoI_c7JiQgqrtOX7oZYMmkl3pYhec8cmO_lt33_A2RvAfARGAMRPQqk504ZvnQMZRfV9MOXXIz5k0ZF_Bk8UKpfKhZvodbZwqMzHru5XP_zC3dCZg/s1500/JFrank+wedding+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="902" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0UYcKOEnStpbINCBvNI45wWtwe6MoI_c7JiQgqrtOX7oZYMmkl3pYhec8cmO_lt33_A2RvAfARGAMRPQqk504ZvnQMZRfV9MOXXIz5k0ZF_Bk8UKpfKhZvodbZwqMzHru5XP_zC3dCZg/w240-h400/JFrank+wedding+X.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oldest known photo <br />Maybe his wedding photo?</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM5zcKRKrFJ-dp9cTSIo4YQede3iiQUdFE9nXA7bS20tAef0oxnm0HpoiMWOrh55VBvf3EvMgJ84YIGBfU9c5Qme3cZVwD8R6VZtzOBUXqc97o7wfTilcCw0fz3ElDg-2TN3KcHBnzHAc/s1500/Frank+Jollet+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="806" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM5zcKRKrFJ-dp9cTSIo4YQede3iiQUdFE9nXA7bS20tAef0oxnm0HpoiMWOrh55VBvf3EvMgJ84YIGBfU9c5Qme3cZVwD8R6VZtzOBUXqc97o7wfTilcCw0fz3ElDg-2TN3KcHBnzHAc/w215-h400/Frank+Jollet+X.jpg" width="215" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My favorite photo<br />17 Nov 1836 - 3 Jun 1930</td></tr></tbody></table><br /> </o:p><i style="font-family: georgia; font-size: xx-large;">Wendy</i></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">© </span>2021, <i>Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.</i><o:p></o:p></p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17863357756727783017noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7429612700924625855.post-14733013599082234412021-11-12T02:00:00.001-05:002021-11-12T02:00:00.576-05:00Photo Friday - Betty and Fred<p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN3Lhk8HmyJPLTLCs_P3uLTpomPWIuXEvv3C3Qd2sXrXc9sgJpSD5w4vk7HDGwOlYpAjt5F-YIixHLZprS2dPGV290RCO_KvNvyHgbXcm15ABwTDHnJlIj5WVYFHnOYsARXMPJnwQuwZs/s1500/Betty+and+Fred+edited.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="959" data-original-width="1500" height="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN3Lhk8HmyJPLTLCs_P3uLTpomPWIuXEvv3C3Qd2sXrXc9sgJpSD5w4vk7HDGwOlYpAjt5F-YIixHLZprS2dPGV290RCO_KvNvyHgbXcm15ABwTDHnJlIj5WVYFHnOYsARXMPJnwQuwZs/w640-h410/Betty+and+Fred+edited.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My aunt Beverly Slade ("Aunt Betty") and my father Fred Slade</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p>I do not know the occasion for which Daddy wore a boutonniere and posed with his little sister outside their home in the Cradock Gardens community of Portsmouth, Virginia. </p><p></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;"><i>Wendy</i></span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">© </span>2021, <i>Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.</i></p><p></p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17863357756727783017noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7429612700924625855.post-29862072781579244912021-11-08T02:00:00.020-05:002021-11-08T02:00:00.225-05:00On This Day - Fred Slade Sr<p>On this day, November 8, 1901, my grandfather Fred Robert Slade was born.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBnNaICF8aRS5AyOEDbPPBF9X5wq28jleUTjmEVudwsJYvwC-DNmqJSZY3LAqrUejyzIKV2CZH79PqG59amh8Cdu24aGRngHcDo7iC_XKKbu9ywNIfyH5YOjmHXgXX411dYZaqgRW2meU/s1500/Fred+Slade+Sr+maybe+B+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1146" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBnNaICF8aRS5AyOEDbPPBF9X5wq28jleUTjmEVudwsJYvwC-DNmqJSZY3LAqrUejyzIKV2CZH79PqG59amh8Cdu24aGRngHcDo7iC_XKKbu9ywNIfyH5YOjmHXgXX411dYZaqgRW2meU/w305-h400/Fred+Slade+Sr+maybe+B+X.jpg" width="305" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Granddaddy was only 18</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhti3Y327mLgyNzY_5wT3ePRjFqZNqy8Jyu2Q-dVw6X2tIZnOr85Jz0XNw6N7uv_qS9lFNuKYC1j0lyZhO7SsP5mN4e_ikBsfCWVmO8QU4kcCLYPTmUZd1osxVmXpWTPM3kO_99hjxdUjc/s1500/Fred+Slade+Sr+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1142" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhti3Y327mLgyNzY_5wT3ePRjFqZNqy8Jyu2Q-dVw6X2tIZnOr85Jz0XNw6N7uv_qS9lFNuKYC1j0lyZhO7SsP5mN4e_ikBsfCWVmO8QU4kcCLYPTmUZd1osxVmXpWTPM3kO_99hjxdUjc/w305-h400/Fred+Slade+Sr+X.jpg" width="305" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love this portrait!</td></tr></tbody></table></div><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg48I3zgBI_GJVzGkXBq0apTP1iPqIDGvKJeYF5fv4Br5cEeWUDF6HRsOLg3evMVSuy4t0dUJOM9LgdEPO4SgxOTtNPpFQzBHBQDTXvmenXC9X1BtlSXyJ2Pg1g4a_pF8-40Vfknah26Jw/s1500/Beagles+BX.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1278" data-original-width="1500" height="341" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg48I3zgBI_GJVzGkXBq0apTP1iPqIDGvKJeYF5fv4Br5cEeWUDF6HRsOLg3evMVSuy4t0dUJOM9LgdEPO4SgxOTtNPpFQzBHBQDTXvmenXC9X1BtlSXyJ2Pg1g4a_pF8-40Vfknah26Jw/w400-h341/Beagles+BX.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Granddaddy and his beloved Beagles</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;"><i>Wendy</i></span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">© </span>2021, <i>Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.</i></p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17863357756727783017noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7429612700924625855.post-48174043716060297042021-11-05T02:00:00.015-04:002021-11-05T02:00:00.189-04:00Photo Friday - Lucille and Fleeta<p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjprKnzhG7uBff45R8St6FrKEiZ-Aa9GQLjJIFBiFoyrhxwdZlZz9HPa41_DiXhSMeXTBIvW8FUMvmCuI-Y43LA0-KY5oizNEdi6OSJAyuxmfEvv3D3jxFMAZAaKysS6eoTZiZ20oGbYsE/s1200/Lucille+and+Fleeta+Berry+Davis+wife+of+Ben+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1017" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjprKnzhG7uBff45R8St6FrKEiZ-Aa9GQLjJIFBiFoyrhxwdZlZz9HPa41_DiXhSMeXTBIvW8FUMvmCuI-Y43LA0-KY5oizNEdi6OSJAyuxmfEvv3D3jxFMAZAaKysS6eoTZiZ20oGbYsE/w542-h640/Lucille+and+Fleeta+Berry+Davis+wife+of+Ben+X.jpg" width="542" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fleeta Davis with Ben Jr. and Lucille Davis</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p>It was 1925. My grandmother Lucille Rucker Davis had recently given birth to her first child, Orvin Jr. My grandfather's cousin Ben Davis and his wife Fleeta Berry, after having 7 girls, finally had a boy - Ben Jr.</p><p></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;"><i>Wendy</i></span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">© </span>2021, <i>Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.</i></p><p></p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17863357756727783017noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7429612700924625855.post-55861279734097967742021-11-02T02:00:00.001-04:002021-11-02T02:00:00.198-04:0052 Ancestors - VOTING: Denied<p>In 2012, I wrote about my 3G granduncle Wesley Eppard
(1825-1882) whose right to vote had been denied. How did I know that? He said
so, right there in the Federal census of 1870.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp1W1W8JodsHyb7fPySa3V6kLCScPPpNPdnuiCynbzEFJFk24A7WhOVWgx0bBUKF63RtcIL5lQbWRq6frIudv9g0YmwmwKnfnl349IBOa2lREepMei8LbvLVgKGC3MwWfdsHPTGEfc4Vo/s1235/WesEppardPhoebeBreeden+ed+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1235" data-original-width="1078" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp1W1W8JodsHyb7fPySa3V6kLCScPPpNPdnuiCynbzEFJFk24A7WhOVWgx0bBUKF63RtcIL5lQbWRq6frIudv9g0YmwmwKnfnl349IBOa2lREepMei8LbvLVgKGC3MwWfdsHPTGEfc4Vo/w349-h400/WesEppardPhoebeBreeden+ed+X.jpg" width="349" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Phoebe Breeden and Wesley Eppard</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">In the
1870 Federal Census, Columns 19 and 20 concern Constitutional Relations. In column
19, Wesley is confirmed as a male US citizen of age 21 or upwards. In column 20,
there is a mark indicating he was denied the right to vote on “other grounds than
rebellion or other crime.” As a native Virginian, Wesley likely had sided with
the Confederacy during the Civil War, but that should have had no bearing since
the question says “other than rebellion.” He was white. He was not checked off
for being deaf, blind, insane, or idiotic. Why was Wesley denied the right to
vote? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">To answer
that question, we need to know why “Constitutional Relations” was included in
the 1870 census.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>14<sup>th</sup>
AMENDMENT</b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">The question on the 1870 census fulfilled the
requirements of Amendment XIV - Section 2, of the US Constitution, passed
by Congress on June 13, 1866 and ratified July 9, 1868. This section
states that “...<i><span style="color: #45818e;">when the right to vote at any election for the choice of
electors for President and Vice-President of the United States, Representatives
in Congress, the Executive and Judicial officers of a State, or the members of
the Legislature thereof, is denied to any of the male inhabitants of such
State, being twenty-one years of age, and citizens of the United States, or in
any way abridged, except for participation in rebellion, or other crime, the
basis of representation therein shall be reduced in the proportion which the
number of such male citizens shall bear to the whole number of male citizens
twenty-one years of age in such State.</span></i>” <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">In other words, the number of male citizens denied would
have an impact on the number of electors for national and state elections. The
decennial census determined the population of a state for the purpose of
representation, thus making it necessary to add the question about whether an
individual had been denied voting rights. The distribution of representative
power in Government depended on accurate answers to the question.</p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>INSTRUCTIONS TO ENUMERATORS</b></span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">The <i>1870 Instructions to Enumerators</i> addresses the
question on pages 11 and 12. They were expected to complete column 19 easily
since they needed merely to identify if the person was a male citizen 21 years
of age or older. Column 20 would require some delicacy in obtaining
information. For one thing, those who never even tried to vote would not know
if their rights were being denied. At any rate, the instructions called for the
enumerators to determine whether a man had been denied at the polls for a
disability, lack of qualifications, or any reason that the State had set by law
prohibiting him from voting, other than rebellion and committing a crime. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;">Since
the basis for denial of voting rights was state law rather than federal law, it</span> was
important for an enumerator to study the laws of his own State in order
to complete column 20 accurately.</p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">MISSOURI LAW</span></b><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">The 15<sup>th</sup> Amendment,<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"> which guaranteed no one would be
denied the right to vote based on race, was ratified in 1870. Nevertheless, some
states continued to try to deny voting rights to certain citizens, not just
former slaves, but to the Irish and Chinese among others. That didn’t apply to
Wesley either. In his county, only 3 other white citizens were denied the right
to vote:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a German, an Englishman, and a
Canadian, all of whom were also US citizens.</span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">The Missouri
Constitution which was ratified in 1820 remained the law of the land right
through to the time of the Civil War. In 1863, the Missouri General Assembly
passed a gradual emancipation order. This did not sit well with those who
thought slave owners were trying to maintain some form of slavery. In 1865 a
new Constitution was drafted that not only banned slavery unconditionally, but
also restricted the rights of former “rebels” and Confederate sympathizers.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">Article 2
of the new Constitution became known as the Ironclad Oath. It required
teachers, lawyers, clergy, and ALL VOTERS to promise they had not committed a
long list of disloyal acts. The wording was so severe that even many Unionists
opposed it, but the Constitution was ratified anyway by a narrow margin.</p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>CONCLUSION</b></span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">Wesley Eppard, as a Southern sympathizer, was denied the
right to vote because that was the State law. It would take some time for the
war tensions to heal, for former enemies to enter into business contracts and
political alliances before such stringent voting restrictions would be
eliminated.</p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p> </o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx-PRI9xRYM2avA8olc-IeCvjuGP7xMprncOhwsw8KOx8yxs8QaWeowOCmgrh-sWruPYK7ThqJpkBuH3m8D1RHq0tjNpA63FHUYEn5nPxu5NisTAdMgj5IADcQoHu_Q3n13M1y6V5lO3o/s540/safe_image.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="281" data-original-width="540" height="167" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx-PRI9xRYM2avA8olc-IeCvjuGP7xMprncOhwsw8KOx8yxs8QaWeowOCmgrh-sWruPYK7ThqJpkBuH3m8D1RHq0tjNpA63FHUYEn5nPxu5NisTAdMgj5IADcQoHu_Q3n13M1y6V5lO3o/s320/safe_image.png" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #45818e; font-family: times;"><i>Amy Johnson Crow continues to challenge genealogy
bloggers and non-bloggers alike to think about our ancestors and share a story
or photo about them. The challenge is “</i><b><a href="https://www.amyjohnsoncrow.com/52-ancestors-in-52-weeks/">52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks.</a></b><i>”</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;"><i>Wendy</i></span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">©</span> 2021, <i>Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.</i><o:p></o:p></p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17863357756727783017noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7429612700924625855.post-28978328815130246082021-10-31T02:00:00.001-04:002021-10-31T02:00:00.234-04:00Sentimental Sunday<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig-ejNDUpcSOJp908jdP6-tsC3goeThE91CaCe9tH7B5obcR3uqk_9luKyomgzGytQXDafGZELWMdJtZyZvMDB-OPu64CVFTrZWnvza9n5WE6Qr7rN_bp8ENSf0h4R6kqF_yASAFo__K0/s1920/Sentimental+img.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1279" data-original-width="1920" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig-ejNDUpcSOJp908jdP6-tsC3goeThE91CaCe9tH7B5obcR3uqk_9luKyomgzGytQXDafGZELWMdJtZyZvMDB-OPu64CVFTrZWnvza9n5WE6Qr7rN_bp8ENSf0h4R6kqF_yASAFo__K0/s320/Sentimental+img.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing">My great-grandfather Walter Davis died 31 Oct 1934.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDyOXTAx1ydo6MMnU5qFrw90r7L_arCNWoVX5SWwH4nqaeDIQTd8C8MLdvw0CtS1aIthH3JMpc0qWiUrGGRylHIJXKzMx9bvL-vtnG9dUeQnPygQ2qG0mtsvcc1UeHt0KtVGF4CL2fggM/s1170/WBDavis+edited+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1170" data-original-width="678" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDyOXTAx1ydo6MMnU5qFrw90r7L_arCNWoVX5SWwH4nqaeDIQTd8C8MLdvw0CtS1aIthH3JMpc0qWiUrGGRylHIJXKzMx9bvL-vtnG9dUeQnPygQ2qG0mtsvcc1UeHt0KtVGF4CL2fggM/w231-h400/WBDavis+edited+X.jpg" width="231" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">My grandmother Lucille Rucker Davis died 1 Nov 1990.</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSqbfKSqm2dohq4s3Ab_3BJ08Pp62Dqhj-m-zfLsMCnp8ryrRWHfBlf9ivsegJqyGISKYDbETjtYGGaG4OvMlEpPLb1w854WV6QMuP1IF4Wishc9YuDNt97SWYfCx_9XaSjTvWx2rxe1g/s1500/Gma+church+photo+X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1027" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSqbfKSqm2dohq4s3Ab_3BJ08Pp62Dqhj-m-zfLsMCnp8ryrRWHfBlf9ivsegJqyGISKYDbETjtYGGaG4OvMlEpPLb1w854WV6QMuP1IF4Wishc9YuDNt97SWYfCx_9XaSjTvWx2rxe1g/w274-h400/Gma+church+photo+X.jpg" width="274" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo for the church directory -<br />this is how I remember her</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing">My 3X great-grandfather Leonard Davis Jr died 3 Nov 1836.
He was Walter Davis’s grandfather whom he never met. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><i style="font-family: georgia; font-size: xx-large;">Wendy</i></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">© </span>2021, <i>Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.</i></p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17863357756727783017noreply@blogger.com3