52 Ancestors - HOLIDAYS: Christmas on the Eastwind

Fred R. Slade, Jr
1946

In December 1946, my father had been in the Coast Guard less than a year. He served on the Eastwind, 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.

Daddy took a lot of photos during his tour, including these 2 of Christmas trees on the ship.

Merry Christmas!

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 “52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks.”

Wendy

© 2021, Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.

Sentimental Sunday: Daddy and Granddaddy

Fred Robert Slade Jr.

(7 Aug 1928 - 31 Jan 2009)

Fred Robert Slade Sr.

(8 Nov 1901 - 4 Feb 1983)

Wendy

© 2021, Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.

Sepia Saturday: Last Stop Newburyport

Sepia Saturday challenges bloggers to share family history through old photographs.

Five years ago and six years ago I wrote about my dad’s scrapbook of photos he took as a 19-year-old in the Coast Guard. If you care to read them, they are HERE and HERE. The stories were about how my sister and I came to donate the scrapbook to the Custom House Maritime Museum in Newburyport, Massachusetts and about the museum’s plan to enlarge some of my dad’s photos for a special exhibit about the work of the Coast Guard in Thule, Greenland following World War II.

This week’s Sepia Saturday prompt reminded me of this photo

Mary, Cam, Barry August 2016
at the Newburyport train station

and that I never really finished the story.

The reason? Because I was heartsick over what happened after I shipped the scrapbook to the Custom House Maritime Museum. In fact, I couldn’t even tell my sister about it until over a year later when we made the trip to see the exhibit.

Here’s the story

The week of March 20, 2015, I took Daddy’s scrapbook to my local UPS store in Chesapeake. They wrapped it securely for me. When the clerk asked about insurance, I was caught off guard and did not know how to respond. What is the value of a teenage boy’s scrapbook of amateur photos anyway? It can’t be replaced. Finally, I just picked a number: $100. Heck, I don’t know. The clerk said the package would arrive probably the next Tuesday.

Tuesday came and went without word from the museum letting me know they had the package. A week went by. Then another. I called the UPS store to ask about the status of the package. The clerk said the packages from her store go to a location in nearby Virginia Beach, a 35-minute trip any given day, and that she would call them to check.

The processing center in Virginia Beach had NO record of my package. UNBELIEVABLE.

The next step UPS took was to issue a special trace for the package. A trace could last up to two weeks. After that the package would be considered forever lost.

LOST

Yep, I got the call – no sign of the package. I sat and cried. I was sad for my dad’s scrapbook, and I was mad that I had thought UPS would be a safer carrier than the regular post office. All I could offer the museum then were copies of the photos I had saved on my computer. My hope was that they could be enlarged enough for the kind of exhibit the director and curator had envisioned.

Thank goodness for that measly $100 insurance because a few weeks later I received the check.

The money was nothing to me. I wrote a check for $100 as a donation to the Custom House Maritime Museum and put it in the mail. 

The very next day I received a phone call.

“Hello, Mrs. Mathias. This is Michael Mroz, director of the Custom House Maritime Museum. I want you to know I am holding your father’s beautiful scrapbook right now.”

What???

I am pretty sure I was screaming in the poor man’s ear.

How the scrapbook was lost yet managed to show up in the right place after over a month is still a mystery, a miracle, a gift.

Boston and Newburyport Trip

In August 2016, the exhibit called “Frozen in Time” opened at the Custom House Maritime Museum and ran through December. Of course, we had to see it. My sister and I along with our husbands flew to Boston for a long weekend.  

The ticket for the exhibit used one of Daddy's photos

Promotional materials 

Newburyport is the last stop on the commuter train, about an hour’s ride from Boston. Had we understood how to read the schedule, we would have gotten to Newburyport sooner, but it was still a wonderful day. The director met us at the station and drove us to the museum.

Barry, Wendy, Cam, Mary
("buoys and girls" ha ha)
in front of the Custom House

As I stepped inside the historic Custom House, the sight of all those photos lining the walls of the great hallway took my breath. 

 

Pictures were arranged by 4 themes: Nature, The Inuit, The Men, The Work of the Coast Guard. The photos were beautiful. They looked like art.

Icebergs and mountains

Inuit families

Cam, Barry, Mary
Behind them are photos of men at work
and at play. Daddy is in the 4th photo
top row in white with his thumb in his pocket.

Work on the ship

A gallery that focuses on the history of the Coast Guard holds a model of my dad’s ship, The Eastwind. It was fun to see in the model the steps my dad descended in this photo:

Wendy and Mary
with 2 photos of our dad

 

 

Model of the Eastwind

Looking back, I marvel at whatever gods watched over my dad’s scrapbook on its journey from Virginia to Massachusetts. I don’t know how many places it went to between March and May of 2015, but I am glad that its last stop was Newburyport.

Climb aboard the Sepia Saturday train – no insurance needed.

Wendy

© 2021, Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.

Sepia Saturday: Jump

Sepia Saturday challenges bloggers to share family history through old photographs.

Did anyone else notice that this week’s Sepia Saturday prompt was used before? Sure was. It was the weekend of June 11, 2016. Since I barely met the challenge four years ago, I had decided to give this week a pass. Then I read Susan Donaldson’s post which inspired me to take a stab at the repeat-prompt.

Jumping rope came to mind. These 2 photos of my parents jumping rope amuse me.

My dad Fred

My dad jumped rope like Mohammad Ali. There was very little space between his feet and the floor, just enough for the rope to slip through.

My mother Mary Eleanor

 Momma was simply being funny trying to appear glamorous while jumping rope.

Judging by the furnishings in this house, in particular the trunk for a coffee table and the absence of our platform rocker, and the fact that these are instant photos from a Polaroid camera, the photos are from the late 1970s.

An increased interest in physical fitness and better health was in its infancy following years of Americans becoming sedentary in front of the television set. Jumping rope was catching on. My parents, husband and I all purchased jump ropes to join the fitness craze.

Don’t ask me how long that lasted.

Hop, skip, or jump over to Sepia Saturday for more fun photos.

Wendy

© 2020, Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.

Sepia Saturday: In His Own Write

Sepia Saturday challenges bloggers to share family history through old photographs.

This week’s Sepia Saturday photo of 3 gentlemen enjoying a pint in a car lot made me wonder about the back-story. Was this a business meeting? Were they winding down after work? Perhaps they were college chums planning a class reunion. That is something my dad might have done as a member of the Portsmouth Cavalier Club of the University of Virginia. Most large cities had a version of the Cavalier Club for socializing and networking.

 

Fred Slade on the top row, 2nd from right

Apparently, that was not the only “club” my dad joined while a student at UVA. The boxes of STUFF retrieved from my grandparents’ attic after 70 years contain clues to a time in Daddy’s life that I knew nothing about. The first hint was this Absence Excuse Form that he filled out on March 27, 1950. His instructor Captain Kuhn had accused him of missing 3 classes in Military Science. Daddy argued successfully that he had been present and even participated in oral recitation.

Front

Back

Military Science??? What? Why was he studying Military Science? What did that have to do with earning a degree in Economics?

Surprise aside, I love seeing my dad’s handwriting – that distinctive capital F and lower-case e. And the polite formality of his tone – that is FRED SLADE all day long.

Then there are these letters to the love of his life – my mother, by the way – sent from Fort Eustis, an Army training facility between Williamsburg and Newport News, Virginia. His return address is written boldly covering the entire reverse of the envelope:

Yes, ROTC. Who knew? Not me. 

I also did not know he called my mother “George.” 

Oh, to learn the story about that!

In his letters, Daddy tells a little about his life as a cadet.

We have had a rather easy week compared to that of last week. The hours are just as long but the work it is less of a grind on a body. I wish to goodness it was over and past and I was home. I dispise this dern mess, if it wasn’t for the fact of loosing the $27 per month next year and having to listen to the yaking from Julia & Co I would quit and curse George Kuhn (Capt.) to high hell and back. He is the only real S.O.B. I have ever met and I ache to tell him so!

NOTE: Yes, the same Capt Kuhn that reported Daddy for missing 3 classes. I suspect Kuhn had the same low opinion of Cadet Fred Slade.

“Julia & Co” – Julia is his mother; “& Co” could be his father OR the string of Julia’s many sisters

Well, they, the government, are about to scare me out of my boots. If the jerks start a war, I be dern if I wouldn’t croak! This is a heck of a place to be in such a crisis. The General is quite up on his toes and our program is going to be more emphatic etc. & so on. They gave us some big “Cock & Bull” Story about the importance of our position and told those who may be fortunate enough to go home to take advantage of it and enjoy our weekend for the future is so unstable 

and unpredictable etc. The officers who lecture to us are so witty, its always “Fellow Officers,” instead of gentlemen as it was last week before the Korean incident.

Still get plenty of laughs in during course of a day. What a simple bunch of tools we have at this place. (There are a few exceptions)

I can hear him. No matter the nature of an experience, whether it was a happy time or a fearful one, he relayed it with a mix of philosophical reflection and sarcasm. And laughter. He would have been laughing while writing.

The college yearbook for 1950 confirms that Daddy was in the First Year Advanced Class of the Army ROTC. While there was also a First Year Basic Class, maybe his time in the Coast Guard had qualified him for the Advanced Class. As his letter indicated, he joined for the money probably supplementing the $75 he was already receiving through the Veterans Administration.

The Battalion History on UVA’s website clarifies some of what Daddy wrote about in his letters. The ROTC program at UVA was only a year old when he joined. It was started in response to the Cold War. The detachment was part of the Transportation Corps. The cadets attended summer camp at the Army Transportation Center at Ft. Eustis where they trained on trucks, ships, locomotives, and other types of equipment. There were over 500 members of the Army ROTC battalion at UVA during the 1950s.

I doubt Daddy stuck around for a second year of ROTC. He and “George” got married. While Momma worked in the Bursar’s Office, Daddy was a full-time student taking temporary jobs here and there driving a cab or working at a snack bar. I think that’s what it was. However, there are no bits of paper in the attic treasures to say.

Pull up a chair and pour yourself a pint as you enjoy more stories and old photos at Sepia Saturday.

Wendy

© 2020, Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.

52 Ancestors - TRAVEL: Fred's Chicago Adventure

Years ago when my sister and I cleaned out our parents’ home, I was surprised to find our father’s diploma from the Coyne Electrical School:

Daddy's diploma from Coyne Electrical School

Fred Slade, Jr. was the least mechanical person I have ever met. He was a reader - a thinker - NOT a doer. If anything needed fixing at our house, our mother did it or she called in a professional.

One box of stuff from my grandparents' attic
Hidden since 1950

I was surprised all over again when I started going through the boxes of STUFF found in my grandparents’ attic when the most recent owner was installing new insulation. Several bits of ephemera gave me new insight into Daddy’s life at the Coyne Electrical School.

I mistakenly assumed that Daddy studied radio and electrical work by correspondence while still in high school, but a conversation with my aunt confirmed that he actually lived in Chicago following graduation from high school. She knew nothing much other than he was there. She did not know WHY he traveled to Chicago to study radio and electricity. Her guess was that he did not know what he wanted in life, that he was in search of SOMETHING.

ad from Wikipedia 

This early ad for the Coyne Electrical School offered free transportation by rail to anyone interested in enrolling, but it predated my dad’s time, so it is more likely that he paid to get to Chicago. Train travel then was abundant. He even managed to save several time tables from the Chesapeake and Ohio Lines and the Norfolk and Western. The N&W offered the most direct route between Chicago and Norfolk although either would have gotten him from here to there.

Two time tables that Daddy saved

Daddy also saved a booklet published by the Chicago Recreation Commission. It looks like the typical comprehensive guide a Visitors Center or tourism board would give out. It devoted pages to those topics visitors want to know: the famous landmarks, locations of parks and theaters, where to watch or play sports, locations of churches and servicemen’s centers, types of entertainment available and how to get around. There is even a suggested itinerary for tourists. Knowing Daddy, he used this little booklet quite a lot in his free time.

He probably even traveled to The Big Apple on the weekend. This New York Central System Time Tables advertised nightly runs between New York and Chicago.

Intended use was for ID and
membership at Coyne

A little leather wallet with its embossed seal of the Coyne Electrical School contains a few interesting papers. The punch card COULD be a meal ticket. It allows 3 punches per day 5 days a week for 4 weeks. If I am correct that it is a meal ticket, Daddy was good about getting breakfast, THE MOST IMPORTANT MEAL OF THE DAY, right?

Fred Slade's punch card for January 1946

Daddy also had 2 “excuse” slips: one for being sick and one for attending to business. I wonder what that was about.

I am surprised and somewhat confused that he was listed as being in the “Refrig” department. His diploma indicates Radio-Electronics.

If that were not enough of a surprise, there is this big envelope

containing about 8 booklets and pamphlets about Great Britain sent from the British Information Services in New York. They were not the kind potential tourists would have been interested in – no descriptions of famous landmarks and places to watch a Cricket match or grab a pint. No, these were about British bomber planes and aircraft, farming, health services, and physical rehabilitation.

 

Some of the brochures 

What did Daddy want with these booklets? The radio and electronics program was just weeks-long. I doubt he was writing a research paper.

British health and aircraft aside, I like this envelope for the address label. Daddy lived at 1515 W. Monroe Street, Chicago.

from Google Maps
1515 W Monroe Street, Chicago, Illinois

Google maps shows a dilapidated old building. Further research shows that the building had belonged to the Salvation Army before being abandoned. It is now being transformed into a multi-family complex with 260 flats and retail on the ground floor. A closeup of the decorative concrete piece above the entry indicates that long before the Salvation Army owned the building, it was the YMCA. 

Closeup of cement decoration above the entry
YM on the left - CA on the right

It was most likely the YMCA when Daddy inhabited room 545.

I hope he had a street view.

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 “52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks.”

Wendy

© 2020, Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.

52 Ancestors - AT WORK: Entrepreneur

Daddy believed in the American Dream: anyone can achieve their version of success by working hard, taking risks, and sacrificing. For him, success meant being in charge of his own destiny. The best way to do that would be to own a business, but that goal took many years to achieve.

The entrepreneurial spirit must have been genetic. Daddy’s father owned a taxi cab business in Portsmouth, Virginia and then later in Burlington, North Carolina. However, Daddy seemed to have no interest in following his father’s footsteps in that line of business.

One venture he explored, at least briefly, was radio electronics. I was surprised to find this diploma among his things. The 1945 date suggests he studied electronics by correspondence following his graduation from high school. Honestly, I can’t imagine Daddy doing anything remotely mechanical. If anything needed fixing in our house, Momma did it, including repairing the fill valve in the back of the toilet. Apparently Daddy couldn’t imagine it either and joined the Coast Guard instead.

 

The diploma is too wide for my flat bed scanner.
This was a correspondence school begun in 1899
and still in existence.

When I was growing up, Daddy worked briefly as an insurance salesman and then as a merchandise manager for Sears & Roebuck. That is the job I most associate with my father – he worked for Sears.

When Daddy was manager of the Infants Wear department,
he dressed as Winnie the Pooh to introduce Sears' new line
of infant clothing under the Winnie the Pooh label.

Working for a big company certainly offered stability while my sister and I were growing up. Once we were grown and out of the house, though, he was free to go after that American Dream to be his own boss.

The first plan was to form a family real estate company. Before I knew it, Momma, Daddy, my husband and I were enrolled in real estate classes at the community college and then the licensing exam prep course. I swore I would never let my license lapse after that, but it did not take long to figure out I was no salesman. Daddy, on the other hand, quickly advanced to the head of the class being named “Rookie of the Year” by the local Board of Realtors.

Wait - what? Handball champion?

Dealing with homeowners and buyers was not his niche, however. He set his sights on the big deals brokering land for development. He also created a concrete company that installed curb and guttering for the neighborhoods and industrial parks he brokered.

Entrance to Long Point, a neighborhood Daddy
helped develop in the Churchland area of Portsmouth, VA

Daddy’s ventures were not the financial success he probably envisioned. Heck, he was on the verge of bankruptcy several times before miraculously saving himself. As one of his business friends said, “Fred had too much heart for the business he was in.” He was not a hard son-of-a-gun, apparently a necessary trait for a long business life.

My nephews saved parts of Daddy's real estate signs.
This one hangs in a home office.

But Daddy was happy in his work which he continued to do right to his dying day at the age of 80.

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 “52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks.”

Wendy

© 2019, Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.