Sepia Saturday: The Last Person on Earth

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

This week’s Sepia Saturday prompt focuses on the motorcycle and its riders, but the tent reminds me of some photos that need a little explanation.  I just wish I had one – an explanation, that is.

A camping trip
about 1922 or 1923

The evidence that my grandaunt Violetta Davis Ryan ever went camping is preserved in her photo album.  If you knew Violetta like I knew Violetta, you’d agree that she is the last person on earth who would ever fit the camper profile.  She focused on good education, culture, owning “nice things” (like her pink Cadillac) and obtaining financial success and independence.  

Even in college she was the cerebral type: a member of Le Cercle Français and the High School Club (for students planning to teach on the high school level).

Violetta is fourth from the right
from the 1923 School Ma'am
yearbook of the State Normal School at Harrisonburg, VA

Violetta on the back row with the green arrow
from the 1923 School Ma'am
yearbook of the State Normal School at Harrisonburg, VA

While the notes beneath her graduation picture make Violetta seem at least a bit athletic, membership in the Athletic Association and YWCA was automatic for ALL students.  There are no signs that she ever joined an intramural sport.

But camp she did.  It is not likely the camping trips were even school related since they were clearly co-ed while the teachers college was not.  Maybe this was a typical outing for groups of young people in the days before sports bars and frat parties. 

The most interesting photo though is this one. 

Double exposure?

At first glance it appears to be a group photo of friends in two rows – but look closely. 

Be a good pillion passenger and ride with me to Sepia Saturday for more stories and old photos.

© 2014, Wendy Mathias.  All rights reserved. 

Wordless Wednesday: Violetta at the Bush

Wordless Wednesday is a daily prompt at Geneabloggers that asks family historians to create a post in which the main focus is a photograph or image.

Violetta Davis Ryan September 1928
bush in the front yard Sixth Street, Shenandoah, Virginia

Before the A to Z April Challenge, I posted a picture of my mother as a baby in front of a bush that served as the backdrop of numerous family photos.  So today, I return to that theme with another in a series of bush photos for Wordless Wednesday.  

© 2014, Wendy Mathias.  All rights reserved.

Sepia Saturday: The Flood of 1936

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

This week’s Sepia Saturday prompt depicting a flood forced me to take a second look at a small stack of ho-hum photos marked “Flood of 1936.”  They were among the many photos passed down to me from my grandaunts Violetta Davis Ryan and Velma Davis Woodring. 

I say “ho-hum” because had the photos not been labeled, they would have passed as mere pictures of rocks and logs in the Shenandoah River.  However, in fact, the pictures are practically historic.  The Flood of 1936 ranks #7 among the top 10 worst floods in Virginia.

Shenandoah River 1936

In 1936, snow followed by thaw followed by more snow left the ground too saturated to handle the torrential rains of March 17 and 18.

My aunts and grandparents were only affected by the flooding of the Shenandoah River although similar devastation was felt in Culpeper with the flooding of the Rapidan River, in Fredericksburg with the Rappahannock River, in Richmond with the James River, and Washington DC and neighboring cities along the Potomac River.

I imagine work was disrupted for quite awhile.  The town of Shenandoah was without electricity as the substation was flooded.

Flooded substation on Shenandoah River 1936
photo from Library of Congress
no known restrictions
http://www.loc.gov/rr/print/res/071_fsab.html

Some roads and bridges were washed away, and others were blocked by mudslides.  Trains stopped running because the tracks and railroad trestles were unstable if not totally destroyed.  This alone must have created an economic crisis since Shenandoah was a major hub for the Norfolk & Western Railway Company where quite a few of my relatives worked.  Needless to say, schools closed and plants shut down for days.

Shenandoah River 1936

Shenandoah River 1936

While the town itself was flood-prone due to its location along the Shenandoah River, I don’t believe my grandparents or other relatives lost their homes.  The town is very hilly, and everyone that I know of lived on higher ground.  However, there were reports of many families abandoning their homes and moving up to where the Skyline Drive is today. 

Article accessed 25 Mar 2014
Richmond Times Dispatch 30 Mar 1936
Genealogybank.com

Some lives were lost when cars were swept away in the flood and when boats capsized.  But probably the most tragic loss occurred days after the rains stopped.  Flood waters created a pool in the yard of a Mrs. Mary Lam.  While she was busy inside the house, her four children ages 3-9 all drowned.

The winter of 1935-1936 was much like the winter we’ve been experiencing in 2013-2014:  extended periods of low temperatures and lots of snow followed by some mild temperatures and then more snow.

I hope history doesn’t repeat itself.

Ford the river to Sepia Saturday. 

© 2014, Wendy Mathias.  All rights reserved.

Sepia Saturday: Good-bye Marion

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

This week’s Sepia Saturday prompt is the piano.  When I was growing up in the 60’s (that’s 1960’s, thank-you), two things every family wanted in their home were a set of encyclopedias and a piano.  We had both.  Music was part of the family identity, I suppose.

Momma and Daddy were obviously proud.
I'm sure I banged out a lovely melody on my
baby grand piano that Christmas 1952.

Mary Jollette's "first piano" was this little upright.
Grandma Lucille Davis and I were there
to make sure Mary Jollette didn't fall off the seat.

My grandaunt Violetta Davis Ryan even had a room where she kept her piano and an organ.  She always called it “The Music Room.”  You could hear those capital letters when she said the words.

We’re not musical like the Osmond family, but everyone was expected to take music lessons.

Even during the Depression, my mother was lucky enough to have lessons in piano and tap at the Harman School of Music in Shenandoah, Virginia.

former Harman School of Music
Pennsylvania Avenue, Shenandoah, Virginia

It’s a tiny building.  My dad used to joke that the building was so small the little chorus line of Shirley Temple wannabes probably had to shuffle out the back door.  But it must have been a good school because Momma used to show us the hop-shuffle-down-step-step steps.  There are just some lessons you never forget. 

She was less enchanted with piano lessons though.  Momma could play by ear, but she was not much for actually reading music.  I guess she saw no need to remember “Every Good Boy Does Fine” or “Great Big Dogs Fight Animals,” much less how to count a dotted quarter note.  If she knew the tune, she could sit down and play it with a flourish.

1993 - Momma either had been playing or was preparing
to play some Christmas carols for the kids.
Clay Pollock, Justin Anderson, Joel Pollock.

Word of her musical prowess must have spread to her colleagues at Cradock Junior High School.  When the faculty was planning a big celebration for a revered teacher who was getting ready to retire, they asked Momma to write a special song to perform at the party.  One afternoon she sat down at the piano, thought for a minute, and then with all the gusto of JoAnn Castle on the Lawrence Welk Show, Momma began playing “Toot Toot Tootsie.” 

Soon the words came: 

Good-bye Marion, Good-bye.

Good-bye Marion.  Don’t cry.

You know our thoughts of you are high

Just like the Fourth of July.

"Like the Fourth of July"? What the heck does that mean?

Well, think of it as “freewriting” or “brainstorming” in which the rule is that there are no rules.   All I can say is that my sister and I were rolling on the floor laughing.  Momma was laughing and crying at the same time, maybe because of the words, or maybe because she caught a glimpse in her mind’s eye of what it would be like to perform this little ditty for a woman who had been her mentor, a consummate educator, a much-loved teacher for decades.   

I don’t know what the final version of the song was, but this is the one that even after 40 years can be recalled in a moment’s notice.   

For more stories about pianos, please visit my friends at Sepia Saturday.  They may not always be “upright,” but they are always “grand.” 

© 2014, Wendy Mathias.  All rights reserved.

Wordless Wednesday: So Cold!

Wordless Wednesday is a daily prompt at Geneabloggers that asks family historians to create a post in which the main focus is a photograph or image.

 

Grandaunt Violetta Davis Ryan on the right
Argene Lauck on the left
at Harrisonburg Teachers College about 1922
in front of Spotswood Hall

In 1922 or 1923, the girls of Harrisonburg Teachers College bundled up for a big snow.   And thanks to the Polar Vortex of 2014, so are we!

Sepia Saturday: Making Do

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

This week’s Sepia Saturday prompt suggesting the many surprises that are often sandwiched between the pages of old books has given me the opportunity to take a closer look at a little black book passed down to me by a grandaunt.

Oh, no, not THAT kind of “little black book.”  This one at 4” x 7” is barely hanging on to its classification as a book.  The black tape spine is dry-rotted and the back cover is cracked nearly in two.  Pages are missing and the stitching has popped. 

The book appears to have served as the precursor to the Time Clock, a place for employees of the Norfolk & Western Railway to sign in each day.  Columns identified the worker’s occupation, name, signature, and time called to report.  At the top of each page were blanks to fill in the specific division, yard, and date.

There are not many pages left, so probably any official business was removed leaving a handy little booklet for children to practice writing their names and for the lady of the house to jot down favorite recipes.  When those few pages were full, recipes were scribbled on any scrap of paper available and inserted into the book along with a prayer that they wouldn’t spill out.  Now over 80 years later the scraps of paper are yellowed and either very soft or very brittle. 

I’m not sure who the “lady of the house” was as I recognize the handwriting of my great grandmother Mary Frances Jollett Davis, my grandmother Lucille Rucker Davis, and my grandaunts Violetta Davis Ryan and Velma Davis Woodring. 

Their rural roots can be seen in the recipes for canning corn, beets, tomatoes, catsup, and grape juice.  But it’s their sweet tooth that dominates in this collection:  2 recipes for spice cake, 2 for gingerbread, 2 for walnut cake, 2 for chocolate caramel cake, 2 for chocolate pies, a variety of other cakes (including Pound, Mystery, and 1-2-3-4 Cake), and – heaven help us – 5 recipes for fruit cake. 

I can almost hear those fine cooks chanting, “Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without.”   The required frugality of the Depression years is everywhere evident in the varied scraps of paper and old envelopes on which are recorded those treasured recipes. 

In some cases, what the recipe was written on is more tantalizing than the recipe itself.  Velma’s “Plain Cake” is on the back of the Eastman Photo Co. envelope that held some photos and negatives she had developed while living in Martinsburg, West Virginia.  She developed one roll of film for 10¢ and 6 photos at 5¢ each for a grand total of 40¢.  The slogan on the envelope reminds customers to “Remember with pictures.  Have your best negatives enlarged.”

Another envelope contained two bills addressed to my great grandfather Walter Davis from Massanutten Power Corporation.  The electric bill for December 1933 was $1.50.  The water bill was for the same amount for the same time period.  The buying power of $1.50 in 1933 equates to almost $27 today. 

In many ways this book is a time capsule out of which spills elements of life during the Depression.

More surprises are spilling out at Sepia Saturday. 

© 2014, Wendy Mathias.  All rights reserved.

Sepia Saturday: Merry Christmas!

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

In keeping with this week’s Sepia Saturday prompt, I send holiday greetings to my fellow Sepians and to all readers and followers.  My Christmas card to you is a photo of this year’s fireplace mantle.

In some ways the mantle is fairly typical with its artificial wreath and garland.  However, the family heirlooms make it special – to me, at least.  

The two silver platters had belonged to my grandaunt Violetta Davis Ryan (the one on the left) and to my maternal grandmother Lucille Rucker Davis (the one on the right).  

 

The two red vases were also Violetta’s.  They are 1930’s Depression glass, Royal Ruby Red ivy bowls by Anchor Hocking.  

Christmas is about family.  Decorating with family heirlooms is a good way to keep family history alive. 

Please visit my friends at Sepia Saturday for more holiday greetings.

Merry Christmas, y’all!  And Happy Blogging in 2014!

© 2014, Wendy Mathias.  All rights reserved.

Sepia Saturday: Kreepy Kewpie

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

This week’s Sepia Saturday prompt shows a couple at the beach posing with a stuffed animal known as Korky the Cat.  Even though I have plenty of beach photos, I’m seizing the opportunity to feature something almost as kwirky and kreepy as Korky.

It’s a Kewpie doll. 

Two friends of Violetta Davis
on the steps of Spotswood Hall
Harrisonburg Teachers College 1923
(now James Madison University)

The photo of two young girls with a Kewpie doll is in a photo album belonging to my grandaunt Violetta Davis Ryan.  Who they were and whether they were in costume are a puzzle.  They look too young to have been Violetta’s college friends.  Maybe they were students she befriended while student-teaching. 

 image from dollkind.com

Even more puzzling is what that girl is doing with a Kewpie doll.  And how can she look so lovingly at it?  I’ve never been a fan of the Kewpie doll.  Something about those tufts of hair, wide side-glancing eyes, and overly-sweet smile make the doll look like its hiding a devilish secret.  










The girl in the photo seems to love it though.  After all, the Kewpie doll was a popular toy in the early 1920s and is still quite collectible among doll enthusiasts today.

The Kewpie doll was the creation of writer and illustrator Rosie O’Neill about 1909.  At first the Kewpie was a comic strip character, a baby Cupid complete with blue wings.  Then came the Kewpie paper dolls.  Expanding on that idea, O’Neill traveled to Germany to assist a toy manufacturer in the production of bisque dolls.  By the 1920s, the more affordable and durable composition dolls were manufactured and sold in the United States. 

Most likely a composition doll is what the girl in Violetta’s photo is holding.  The straight legs indicate the doll is one of the early models.  All Kewpies were sold without clothes, so any dresses or coats were added by the proud owner.  If the doll weren’t dressed, the trademark red paper heart would be visible on its chest. 

What do you think – kreepy or kute?

Be a doll and visit my friends at Sepia Saturday for more stories of quirky photo props and beach scenes.

© 2014, Wendy Mathias.  All rights reserved.

Wordless Wednesday: Croquet

Wordless Wednesday is a daily prompt at Geneabloggers that asks family historians to create a post in which the main focus is a photograph or image.

Click to enlarge

From the album of my grandaunt Violetta Davis Ryan comes this photo of the fine gentlemen of Shenandoah, Virginia stopping to pose for a photo op during a rousing game of Croquet.  As is so typical of these old albums, no one is identified.  However, the man second from the right looks a lot like Violetta’s oldest brother Millard Davis.  

© 2014, Wendy Mathias.  All rights reserved.

Sepia Saturday: The House That Violetta Built

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

This week’s Sepia Saturday prompt of a ship under construction has given me an opportunity to display some of the photos that had been stuffed into an envelope and forgotten for many years.  They are of my grandaunt Violetta Davis Ryan’s apartment building under construction. 

She was just a fairly young woman in the early 1930s when she broke ground at 473 South Mason Street in Harrisonburg, Virginia.  Her goal was financial independence.

Breaking ground at 473 South Mason Street

Supplies delivered to the back yard

Her plan was to build an apartment building with two floors and a basement, with two units on each floor. 

Violetta was there to supervise - no surprise there!

She would occupy the left apartment on the first floor and rent the others. 

Look at that scaffolding!

Violetta's apartment was #1.  In the 1970s, she created a hall
through back-to-back closets and made #1 and #2
one big apartment.

By 1940, the house had been fully rented for at least 5 years, according to the census of that year.  Violetta and her husband Dick Ryan along with her mother Mary Frances Jollett Davis shared the one apartment.  Other renters included college professor Clyde Shorts and his wife and daughter, teacher Mona Lyon (who remained Violetta’s lifelong friend), factory owner Michael Mintzer and his wife and daughter, and telephone company engineer Henry Newman and his bride and baby.

In no time Violetta must have realized she had attic space that could be put to better use.  A renovation to the top floor brought her total to 7 apartments.

And what a lovely building she created too.  The fine details reflected in part the style of the day but also they were the result of Violetta’s desire for “nice things,” things like wood floors, beautiful wood moldings, brass doorknobs, brass chandeliers, fireplaces for each renter as well as one in the backyard.

Apt #6 - Note the beautiful woodwork,
fireplace, built-in bookshelves,
and just a snip of that brass chandelier.

Violetta said that residents often held parties
together in the backyard.

Storage in even the basement apartments was generous with several deep closets, a kitchen pantry, and built-in bookshelves.  The four main apartments all enjoyed a beautiful porch facing South Mason.

While these photos would be considered just old photos to others, they are most fascinating to me because of the history.  The house at 473 South Mason was more than the Mecca of my youth when family vacations always included visits with Violetta.  It was home to many in my family at one time or another.

Violetta’s sister Velma lived for awhile in Apartment #6 in the basement, the same one I lived in as a bride.  Across the hall in #5 lived my cousin Glenn and his bride Rita.  Several years later my sister lived in #5 while in college.  The attic apartment (#7) was the newlywed nest for my cousin Barbara (Glenn’s sister) until the baby came along signaling they had outgrown the place. 

We youngins came and went but some of the residents were there a long time.  In fact, I can’t remember a time when they weren’t there.  Apartment #3 was home to Mrs. Ruth Cooper and #4 to Miss Rosalind Trent and her brother.

from 1952 yearbook
Madison College

from 1952 yearbook
Madison College

Mrs. Cooper and Miss Trent were colleagues of Violetta’s at Madison College.  Mrs. Cooper was the sweetest little lady.  We always drove her to Richmond at Christmas so she could be with her family.  Miss Trent must have been the youngest of the three as she was still teaching English at the college even though Mrs. Cooper and Violetta had retired.  I took at least three English courses from Miss Trent, two during the same semester.  She even let me submit the same essay for both classes. 

Whenever I’m in Harrisonburg, I avoid driving down South Mason because my cousin assures me the house is just not the same, it's sad to say.  Like an old ship decommissioned and slated for scrap, 473 South Mason has lost her stature as a grand and desirable place to live.  I prefer to remember this house when it was one of the jewels of the neighborhood. 

Please visit my neighbors at Sepia Saturday to see what they’ve constructed this week. 

© 2014, Wendy Mathias.  All rights reserved.