I'd Bet My Tin Cup...

[The following is a submission for the 15th Edition of the Carnival of Irish Heritage & Culture: the 2nd Annual Small-Leaved Shamrock Summer Reading Challenge]

I Hate Moving
At last count, my husband and I have figured that we have moved 12 times in the 15 1/2 years that we've been married ~ all moves in the state of Texas.  [Roots, what are those?]  No, we're not a military family.  They've just all been family- and/or job-related moves.  Needless to say, I hate moving.  I hate the packing of the boxes, the transferring of utilities [Budde Rd., anyone?], the loading of the truck, the driving, the unloading of the truck, the unpacking of the boxes, the wondering of whether or not something of real value has been broken, and most of all the expenses involved.  I hate every aspect of it.  The next time we move, it'd better be because I won the lottery.  I'm not doing any move-related work [except for all the shopping for my mansion].

By Foot, By Wagon, By Ship...
No doubt it is hard work to move, but it was even harder for our ancestors to move.  Every time I trace an ancestor's migration path and compare it to a time line to see how they traveled, I am both amazed and humbled.  Their means of transportation was not easy to say the least, and how far they went is beyond my comprehension.

From Ireland to Texas Via New Orleans
This is why when I look at the small amount of information that I've been able to find on my 2nd great-grandmother Annie O'Brien, I am truly dumbfounded.  What makes a nineteen year-old young Irish lady board a ship in Dublin, Ireland with, I would guess, everything she owns, and set sail for New Orleans, Louisiana in the year 1872?  Admittedly, I've not done much research on her.  I have a copy of her death certificate obtained from FamilySearch.org [Record Search], and  I found on Ancestry.com as well as on microfilm at the library that she married my 2nd great-grandfather Daniel Rook(e) Vaughn in 1874 in New Orleans, Jefferson Parish, Louisiana.  Additionally, I was able to follow them in the census to Texas where they lived and raised children until their deaths.

My Tin Cup Is Always Half-Full
From what my mother has told me, she was supposed to have been a strong-willed lady [supposedly part of my "long line of managing women" that I descend from] who had a penchant for Irish Whiskey.  It's been passed down orally in my family that she had a tin cup that she'd take once a day to the local saloon's back door and have it filled up.  [It could have been worse ~ it could have been a whole bottle of Irish Whiskey or she could have been a "saloon girl."  See, for me, my tin cup is always half-full...]  It has also been said by various family members that it's a good thing she died in 1918 because she never would have survived Prohibition.  Just this wee bit of information makes me thirsty for more of Annie's story.  I want to know her.  I want to meet her.  In order to do that [seances aside], I need to search for her.  I have to find out what was going on at the time she was living in Dublin as well as the history leading up to her birth.  The only thing I really know about Irish history that may have influenced her was the Potato Famine.  Was this why she moved?

It's A Lot Like Listening To A Violin
With all this in mind, I chose for my summer reading challenge a book entitled, "In Search of Ireland's Heroes...The Story of the Irish from the English Invasion to the Present Day" written by Carmel McCaffrey.  Now, you might be wondering why I didn't choose a book about  the Potato Famine.  I'm glad you pointed that out.  I find that reading history is a lot like listening to a violin being played.  In the hands of a master violinist it is pure poetry to the ears, but when it's accompanied by the rest of the orchestra, it makes sense to not only the ears, but to the mind and heart as well.  You can't take a piece of history out of context and be able to read and understand it.  Moreover, according to Isaac Newton, "To every action there is an equal and opposite reaction."  You can't understand the reaction [and the motivations behind it] without understanding the action that it's reacting to.  Confused?  Let's say for example, when my daughter comes to me and says that my son hit her, I always ask both of them their side of the story.  My thinking is that somewhere in between lies the truth.  Plus, there might be a good reason that he hit her.  Maybe she hit him first... [As a side note, for my sanity, I try not to micromanage my children.  I advocate them solving their problems on their own.  It's not a part of my future plans to be a 70-year-old mom mediating who hit who and why they did it.  I'm going to be too busy traveling to awesome places like Ireland.]

From An Irish Point of View
Ms. McCaffrey's book was and is an excellent source of the history of Ireland leading up to the day my Annie set sail for New Orleans, and then through to present day.  It is very easy to read without feeling like it was "dumb-downed."  That's probably because it isn't.  It's just that she writes like she's talking to you.  [She's Irish, so in my head, I added the accent, too.]  Furthermore, I'm glad that I chose not to read just about the Potato Famine because I would have missed why it was so devastating to the Irish.  In other words, their reaction of the action.  Don't worry, though, I'm not going to give you a blow-by-blow of Irish history from about 1200 and onward.  In order to learn all about Ireland's heroes, you need to read the book like I did. If you have Irish heritage like I do, or just desire to know Irish history from the Irish point of view, then this book is for you.

So That's Why...
I learned that just as a family tree does not stand alone, neither does a country's history.  There were many times while I was reading the book, that I had "Ah-ha" moments.  I would think, "So, that's why..."  Of course it covers English and some European history, but it covers some American history as well.  It gives a better understanding of some of our American forefathers and their motivations, the affects of the American Revolution on Ireland, and a small look at the American Irish who managed to stay connected with their homeland.

Going To Bed Hungry
So, did I learn anything about Annie O'Brien?  You can bet your tin cup I did.  I learned that no matter how hungry I get, I will never come close to understanding what true hunger is.  The fact that her mother and father made it through the famine and had Annie is a true miracle in and of itself.  Annie reported that she was born in Dublin, Ireland in 1852.  This would've been 2 years after the famine officially ended.  According to Ms. McCaffrey, 1.5 million Irish died from starvation and disease. 1.5 million.  Certainly, the aftereffects of the famine were still being felt severely in 1852 and throughout Annie's childhood.  I would imagine that there were nights she went to bed hungry, or if she didn't, her parents did.

Will The Real Annie Please Stand Up?
On Annie's death certificate, her father is listed as James O'Brien, and her mother's name is unknown.  So, does this mean she never talked about her mother?  Could it be her mother died young?  Annie's son Daniel Vaughn, Jr.  was the informant on her death certificate, so maybe because he was the youngest, he never heard any stories.  Maybe he just didn't remember them.  Additionally, I have yet to find the passenger list that marks her voyage.  Do you realize how many Annie/Ann/Anne O'Brien's there are, not to mention that her first name could have been Mary [rolling of the eyes heavenward].  Like I said above, I haven't done a whole lot of research on her. Furthermore, even though the census and her death certificate list her birthplace as Dublin, Ireland, I'm not even sure if that's correct.  It was common to just list Dublin, Ireland because that's the port they left from, even though they might not have been born there.  I also know that she was Catholic, as is all of my mom's side of the family.  So, maybe church records will help me find her.  Although, an Annie O'Brien with a father named James may not be very easy to discern from all other ones in Dublin, Ireland.  Also, in all the Texas census she is listed in , I've yet to find any O'Brien's in the same vicinity as she.  So, did she come alone?  Had everyone in her immediate family passed away in Ireland?  Was she an orphan?  Was she really an O'Brien?  [Sigh.]  There are so many questions...

A Feast ~ the Likes of Which She'd Probably Never Seen
After visiting New Orleans for the first time this past weekend, another question has been added to all my other questions.  When she finally got off that ship, and got a whiff of the Creole food, the Cajun food, and the seafood, how much was her mouth watering?  I wonder what she ate first, for food is definitely one thing that New Orleans is known for, even in 1872.  Could you imagine what that must of been like for her ~ to not only have food, but spicy food and lots of it?  I'd bet my tin cup that her eyes were bigger than her stomach on more than one occasion.

All Aboard!  Next Stop ~ Ancient Ireland
In the book, "In Search of Ireland's Heroes", the O'Brien name/clan is mentioned just once in the beginning of the book.  Ms. McCaffrey indicates that after the English Invasion the O'Brien's were still in power in Munster [southern Ireland].  Now, the O'Brien's were not the "movers and the shakers" of the time period that this book covers.  [of course not...]  Clans such as the Fitzgerald's, the O'Neill's, and the O'Donnell's take center stage in this book.  Apparently the O'Brien's were the "movers and the shakers" of ancient Ireland, an account of which can be found in Ms. McCaffrey's prequel to this book and is entitled, "In Search of Ancient Ireland."  Also, according to many published genealogies of this clan, the O'Brien's descend from a Brian Boru who was crowned as High King of Ireland in 1002.  Now, that's a family story that is a "must-read."  So, in my "off-time" from searching for more of Annie's story, I'll be ensconced in ancient Ireland and Brian's story [the High King ~ not the football player] while sipping from my tin cup.

Remember the Alamo!

School Projects
I know it's going to be hard for you to believe, but I loooove school projects helping my kids with their school projects.  It doesn't matter what subject, either ~ history, family tree, reading, science.  They're all so much fun...for the kids.  Usually, though, our the kids' projects are kept by the teacher, and we don't get them back because they want to use them in the future years as examples.  Now, before you gear up your fingers on your keyboard to type a comment in righteous indignation because you feel that the kids need to do their own work, please hear me out.  This is my theory for kids kindergarten through 6th grade on school projects:  I help them a lot, but I teach it as we go.  I explain the how and the why, sometimes more than the textbooks, and quiz them as we work.  If we live near something that we are studying, we go see it, tour it, use their bathrooms, purchase overpriced snacks, purchase a small token of our visit, take the obligatory photos, see the IMAX movie, etc. ~ we experience it [i.e., the San Jacinto Monument and Battleground ~ yeah, we walked the battlegrounds, never mind it was to get to the Battleship Texas across the way.]  I also feel that elementary schools have an inordinate amount of home "projects" because they don't have time to do this stuff in class.  Have you seen some of the instructions for these projects?  [Sheesh.] 

Help!?!
Also, growing up, my dad always helped me with my projects, and as I've mentioned on my companion blog, Texas Family Stories, my dad looooved Texas history, and lucky for me he was good at building things.  Trust me.  I learned a lot when dad was "helping" with my projects, and they looked awesome.  Not only did I learn what I was supposed to learn from the project, but I learned how to construct the project.  [Do you see where I'm going with this?]  O.K., I'm just going to say it, "The projects sent home nowadays are age-inappropriate."  Therefore, I "help".  After 6th grade, I feel that I've taught them all that I can about designing and constructing school projects, and if they need assistance, it will be limited.  [See, I'm not so bad, right?]






You Could've  Knocked Me Over With A Feather...
About 1 1/2 years ago, my next door neighbor's 4th grader had a project.  She told me it was Alamo-related, something about reconstructing it, and she wanted me to help her daughter with it.  "Cool," I thought because I've been to the Alamo a gazillion times...I know the Alamo.  My parents were born and raised in San Antonio, Texas, and with my Dad's penchant for Texas history, not only have I visited the Alamo many times, but I have had the distinct pleasure of visiting all the missions in San Antonio ~ all on the same day, "Amazing Race-style".  [What, you didn't know that there is more to San Antonio than just the Alamo, Sea World, and Fiesta Texas?  See, I teach ~ be ready for a quiz later ;) ]  Well, when I actually looked over the project instructions, I realized that the teacher didn't just want the chapel of the Alamo [which is what stands today along with the long barracks], but she wanted the complete reconstruction of the Alamo fort as it stood in 1836 right before the Battle of the Alamo.  [Now, come on, isn't that a bit much for a fourth grader?...students of architecture, anyone?]  I did all my research and printed out diagrams of what it looked like back then, plus got out my personal photos of it for my neighbor's daughter to look at and study.  You have to remember, my Cajun neighbor was displaced by Katrina, and she opened my eyes to something so very important.  You could've knocked me over with a feather when I found out that the rest of the world is not "up" on Texas history.  Needless to say [but I'm going to anyway], I had some Alamo teaching to do.

Walkin' the Walk
Now, my neighbor and her family had not yet been to the Alamo, so I had to describe it to my neighbor's daughter.  I cannot express enough how humbling it is to walk where our Texas forefathers valiantly fought and died all in the name of freedom.  To know that I have walked where they have walked is awe-inspiring. 

Can Cannons Make Forts Look "Cute"?
I think I outdid myself we outdid ourselves on that project.  It was awesome, and of course, the teacher kept it, but would you believe I didn't take a photo of it?  I didn't.  Really. [Sigh.]  I did learn a lot from reconstructing it, more than I had learned from the short historical films shown at the Alamo and, of course, textbooks, and so did my neighbor's daughter.  Plus, we learned what materials work best in making an Alamo fort, and how realistic and "cute" forts look with little plastic horses, goats, hay, and especially cannons.



 
Davy Crockett 'Coon Hats, Blue Birds, & Befriending
In the past, according to an article written by Ben Cassellman, Remember the Alamo? It's Under Siege Again -- This Time From Within the Daughters of the the Republic of Texas [which is in charge of the Alamo] has financed the maintenance and preservation of the Alamo by unsolicited donations and the revenue from the gift shop.  [Now let me just say, that's a lot of Davy Crockett 'coon hat sales, one of which my parents purchased for me when I was younger.  I wonder what happened to my Davy Crockett 'coon hat...]  Now though, there is a push [that has been met with a little resistance] by some of the Daughters to take fundraising for the future to a new level that includes increasing the awareness of the Alamo through internet social networking such as Twitter and Facebook as well as other modern fundraising activities.  [I think they should have a blog, too.  Can you tell where I stand on this issue?  BTW, have you seen my new Twitter and Facebook buttons that I designed in the sidebar?  Are you following me?]

The Duke, Red Flared Pants, & "Bad Girls"
This got me to thinking about my visits and photos of the Alamo, and I remembered I had a photo from the lovely '70's of my parents and myself in front of the Alamo [with me wearing some outstanding red flared pants].  I located the photo, but it didn't look quite right [other than the pants].  According to my previous research of the Alamo and a photo of the Alamo ca. 1930, there was a courtyard in front with steps up to the front door.  However, my photo was from 1977, and there was only dirt and sparse grass in front.  Then I thought possibly it was of one of the other missions, but from my memory of those missions, that didn't look right either.  Well, I got to thinking about where I found this photo.  More precisely what other photos were with it.  It was with the the photos of my family's vacation to Big Bend in West Texas.  [Remember, Family Stories: Swimsuit Edition?]  Also, I looked the same age in the this collection of photos. Interestingly, this is all located out west of San Antonio, Texas, but we would've traveled through San Antonio to get there and then again on our way back.  So what's in between Big Bend and San Antonio, you ask ~ besides, of course, the ghost towns and tumbleweeds?  Funny you should ask that because another post of mine [a recent one] jogged my memory a little more.   Remember my Cowboy Dreams post?  You know, the one about the pony and cowboy family photos?  Remember how I mentioned that my dad looooved John Wayne movies?  What I didn't mention [and probably should have] was that he especially looooved the film  The Alamo from 1960 with John Wayne.  Take a guess as to where that set was built and where the movie was filmed: Bracketville, Texas ~ in between San Antonio and Big Bend.  I googled the set and found its website.  Turns out that my photo [below] indeed was of my parents and myself in front of the reconstructed Alamo on the set, otherwise known as The Alamo Village.  To think, I have walked where not only our Texas forefathers have walked, but I have walked where John Wayne walked, too!  Not to mention a whole slew of other famous people because there have been many other westerns and films of other genres filmed there.  This, would mean, of course, that many famous people have walked where I have walked, like Matt Damon and Rick [but he'll always be Ricky] Schroeder.  Also, the movie "Bad Girls" was filmed there.  [You know, the one with the cowgirls with attitude?  I like that film.] 


If I Had Only Known [or Remembered]...
James T. "Happy" Shahan was the name of the man who convinced John Wayne to film The Alamo there on Happy's land.  Also, he built the set, and after filming was over, he maintained it by opening the doors to the public.  [What a jolly idea...]  When he passed away, his wife Virginia F. Webb Shahan took over.  Sadly though, she passed away this summer, and the doors have been closed [hopefully, temporarily] as of last month [July].  The message on their website indicates that they are assessing everything and considering what they are going to do in the future.  I am so depressed about this.  If I had known [or remembered] that it was there, I SO would've visited it!  Now, my chance to share it with my kids, might just be gone.  They have a great website, but if you don't know it's there, what good does that do?  It sure doesn't help your day-to-day business if your potential customers/visitors have never seen the movie The Alamo that gave birth to the movie set that you want/need them to visit.  I know that this is hard to believe and you may need to sit down to hear it, but some of them don't even know who John Wayne is.  [Unbelievable, I know, but it's true.]  Need I point out, though, I know who John Wayne is, I've seen his movie The Alamo, I've been to the movie set, and I still did not remember it.  You can only rest on your laurels for so long.  I mean, when was the last time you were able to pay your bills with your laurels?

Do You Have A Favorite Super Bowl T.V. Ad?
Don't get me wrong, though.  I'm not saying that this struggle with the status quo with the real Alamo in San Antonio will lead to the closing of the Alamo doors.  Nope, that would never happen, but it does make one think about the progression of technology and those who lag behind.  In 1941, how did the major radio advertisers feel about the first T.V. commercial that was made by Bulova?  Were they happy with the status quo and did they think that television advertising was just silly, or did they start thinking forward?  And if you have watched a Super Bowl on T.V., then you don't need me to spell it out for you.  I think I can safely say that the whole T.V. advertising "thing" worked. [Maybe.]   If people outside the state of Texas [or in it] don't realize the significance of the Alamo ~ not to just Texas history ~ but to American history, then how can one ever expect growth of the awareness of the Alamo, and thus, more money for maintenance, preservation, and expansion?  [You didn't really think I'd tell a story about Texas, the Alamo, and John Wayne without mentioning football, did you?]

All kidding aside, approximately 1/3 of what is now the United States is land that our Texas forefathers fought and died for so courageously.  Shouldn't everyone know that?

Become a "Friend of the Alamo" by following it on Twitter and Facebook.  Go on.  Become a fan.  [Ya'll don't forget to buy a Davy Crockett 'coon hat, too.  I am SO going back to replace mine.] 

Wordless Wednesday: Battleship Texas

A Texas Monument From a Different Point of View



 

A Contest in Honor of Sam

What's In A Name?
I might have mentioned my Gran to you a time or two [My Gran's Southern Hash, Genealogy, Catholicism & Managing Women, I Have Believed... Impossible Things..., Her Irish Eyes, They Were a Smilin...].  My Gran's "real" name was Mary Alice (Truitt) Blacketer, but to all her grandchildren she was just Gran.  While she was alive, I heard others refer to her and heard her refer to herself  as Mary, Alice, and/or Mary Alice.  It's funny when you think about who we are to different people.  What we are called by different people [hopefully all good things...].

Her "Other" Nickname
My Gran was an extremely patriotic person.  [I wonder if she knew her 3rd great grandfather fought in the Revolutionary War...]  She would always wear bright red lipstick, and there were only four colors that my Gran would wear, at least in her later years: red, white, blue, or green.  If she was feeling especially patritotic on a particular day she'd wear red, white, and blue.  What was the green for?  Ah, now that would be for her Irish O'Brien heritage.  On St. Patrick's Day, she'd wear all four colors.  [I'm not kidding.  Really, she did.]  My Gran was a teenager during World War I.  By the time World War II rolled around, she had married my grandfather James Wesley Blacketer, a private in the U.S. Army, and had already given birth to eight children [my mom's #7].  Along with her busy home life, she volunteered at the USO in San Antonio, Texas [where she lived].  Additionally, her sister [my Grand Aunt Anne] was in the U.S. Navy and drove an ambulance in France during World War II.  However, it wasn't until her death in 1993 that I found out that she had had another nickname.  In fact, this nickname was so well-known on the military bases in San Antonio, that we had to use it in her obituary or people would not have realized that it was her.  It was given to her for her patriotism and for her support of the military.  And the nickname?  They called her "Sam" [as in "Uncle Sam"].

In honor of "Sam" [or Mary, or Alice, or Mary Alice, or Gran], I'm holding a contest.  You see, my polite, patriotic, little Irish Catholic grandmother used to have some funny sayings that she passed down.  For example, in moments of great trial, like accidentally dropping something, instead of saying "God---- it!", she'd say, "God [small dramatic pause] bless America and all the ships at sea!"   [probably to avoid all the Hail Mary's she'd have to say...]  With eight children, I bet she used this one a bunch.

Here's another "good one" from Gran.  Sometimes when people just didn't make any sense she'd say, "'To each his own,' said the old lady who kissed the cow, and the old man who peed in the sea to keep the boat from sinking."  [Ah, the imagery that conjures up...]

This last one was passed down from my 2nd great grandmother, Annie O'Brien, and you may have heard it before.  "Top o' the mornin' t' ya' and the rest o' the day t' me!"  [Hee-hee.  The first part is Irish and the second part is leprechaun.]

The Funny Family Sayings Contest

So, what is your funny family saying?  C'mon. I know you have at least one.  How bad could it be?  It can't be any worse than Sam's "old lady and old man" one...The 10 funniest family sayings submitted will receive a free one-month's [for the month of September] premium level subscription to Dynastree. Dynastree is a family tree web application that has a ton of features including their popular "map a surname".  They offer a free standard subscription with no obligations as well as a paid premium subscription.  Dynastree has been extremely generous in offering you, my readers, these subscriptions so you can "test drive" their application.  For more information, visit their blog here.  Just post ONE of your funniest family sayings below in "Comments".  The contest will end Thursday, August 27, 2009 at midnight.  Good luck!  Remember: you get only one entry.  [Please enter.  Do it for "Sam".  Also, I need at least 10 entries, but just 10 entries might make me look a little pathetic...so post a funny saying! :)]

Wordless Wednesday: San Antonio, Tx 1952

My Dad [on right] & Friend Walking Downtown San Antonio, Texas, 1952

Cowboy Dreams

78th Edition of the Carnival of Genealogy: Pony Pictures!
This post is a submission for the 78th edition of the Carnival of Genealogy being hosted by Jasia at Creative Gene.  The request was for pony, cowboy, and cowgirl photos from our family albums and the stories behind them.



[This beautiful COG poster was designed and provided by the creative footnoteMaven.]

Cowboy Dreams

I think every little boy, no matter the generation, at one time or another, dreams about being a cowboy.  To have his own horse, his own gun, his own cowboy hat, with the wide open spaces of the wild west ready to take on the worst of the worst, the meanest of the meanest bad guys the wild west could come up with, and to save the damsel in distress is what every little boy dreams of at one time or another.  Certainly, though, the popularity of being a  cowboy increased in the 1930's, 1940's, and 1950's with the influx of Western movies made at the time.  How do I know this?  Just look below at the photos of my father dressed as a cowboy throughout his life.  Then, take a look at the last one of my brother and sister on their donkey Oscar.  I think that my Big Paw Paw [my dad's dad]  had great dreams of dad becoming a cowboy, wouldn't you agree?  Also, when I was young when VCR's hit the scene [you know, the big clunky ones?], my dad would rent tons of John Wayne movies.  He said that they were really good, and that I just had to see them.  He was right.  They were good.

And below, no, your eyes are not deceiving you, the first photo is of my dad sitting on a real live bull [because, hey, that's how we roll in Texas], but of course my favorite is of him on the pony when he was three.

Best Friends

This is a collage of my Paw Paw [grandmother on dad's side] and her best friend Hazel.  While sifting through some old photographs of my Paw Paw, I found an old envelope with no letter inside.  However, I thought that it was neat to keep because it's my grandmother's handwriting and it has their addresses on the envelope.  The envelope was postmarked 31 Dec 1943.  My Paw Paw would have been 30 years old, and it was 2 days after my dad's seventh birthday.  The black and white photograph, judging by other photos of my Paw paw, was taken probably ca. 1939 [Paw Paw on the right and Hazel on the left].  The color photo is one of my Paw Paw [on left] and Hazel [on right] taken around 1977...and that cute, adorable child practically inhaling the snow cone in the sticky heat?  Why, it's ME, of course!  If I had to guess [which I do], I'd say we were in Breckenridge Park in San Antonio, Texas.

This post is a part of the Postcard Friendship Friday McKlinky hosted by Marie at her blog Vintage Postcards~Cpaphil.  Go take a look at all the vintage postcards and mail-related images.  It's a virtual walk through time!

My Mary & Martha Drama

Grand-Aunt Mary

A couple of weeks ago, I introduced you to my Grand-Aunt Mary on my dad's side.  This was the Mary who married Harry, who owned a dairy.  [Sorry, couldn't resist...]  I also mentioned she wasn't my only Mary in my family tree.  [...not by a long shot]  Name rhymes aside though, what we name our children is very personal, and so it's logical to think that it was the same way for our ancestors.  Furthermore, these naming practices lead to patterns, which are helpful for researching our family trees.

Mary & Martha Drama

Today I'd like to introduce you to another Mary and her sister Martha [or who I believe is her sister].  [I kid you not ~ a Mary and a Martha.]  Since I only want to point out the naming patterns, I'm going to give you a quick synopsis of each of the involved families and their supposed relationships with each other.  Not all the information is proven; I'm still in the process of researching.  However, there have been many obstacles in my research and in reviewing the information [repeatedly], I came across some convincing naming patterns, of which my Mary and Martha are involved.  Let me just state first what my theory is.  Mary's and Martha's maiden name is Casteel.  That's a fact, and I think that they are "missing" daughters of a Henry and Mary Casteel of Wayne County, Tennessee, but I'm lacking proof.  With that being said let me introduce you to the cast of my "Mary & Martha Drama."

The Cast and Some of Their Past ~ Not To Mention the Setting

1. Remember my Paw Paw [my grandmother on my dad's side]?  Her 1st Great Grandparents [which are my 3rd great-grandparents] were Nelson & Mary Ann "Polly" (Casteel) Martin.  Nelson was b. abt 1819 in NC, and Mary was born in abt 1820 in Davidson Co., TN.  They married in 1841 in Wayne Co., TN.  They moved to Johnson Co., IL between 1841 & 1850, and were living there in District 2 in the 1850 census.  [Side note: This is the line that I'm named after with my middle name, Martin.]

2. Daniel & Mary "Polly" (?) Kerley [another Mary] were both born in NC, Daniel b.abt 1790.  Relationship to my Nelson & Mary: supposedly Daniel raised my Nelson.  In the 1840 census Daniel & Mary are living in Wayne Co., TN, and in the 1850 census, Daniel & Mary are living in Dist.2, Johnson Co., IL.  Guess who's living with them ~ my Nelson & Mary with 4 of their children.  They probably moved together between 1841-1850 from Wayne Co., TN to Johnson Co., IL.  Also, Daniel and Mary had a biological son name Osburne who was b.abt 1812 in NC.

3. Woodson & Martha (Casteel) West ~ Woodson was b.abt 1809 in NC & Martha was b.abt 1815 in Davidson Co., TN.  They were married in Williamson Co., TN.  Relationship to my Nelson & Mary: I believe Martha is a sister to my Mary.  Woodson was supposedly raised by Daniel & Mary Kerley, like my Nelson.  In the 1840 census Woodson & Martha are living next door in Wayne Co., TN. to Osburne Kerley, who is Daniel & Mary's son.  Woodson & Mary's first 6 children were born in Tennessee.  In the 1850 census Woodson & Mary are living in District 2, Johnson Co., IL near the rest of this "cast".  Obviously, they, too, probably moved from Wayne Co., TN to Johnson Co., IL with everyone else.

4. Osburne & Mary (?) Kerley [sigh, another Mary] were both born abt 1811/1812 in NC.  In 1840, they were next door neighbors to Woodson & Mary (Casteel) West in Wayne Co., TN.  Osburne was the son of Daniel and Mary Kerley, and was suppposedly raised with my Nelson Martin and Woodson West.  In 1850, they were living in Dist. 2, Johnson Co., IL next door to his parents and my Nelson and Mary.

5. Henry & Mary "Polly" Casteel [Good grief on these Mary's, right?]  The only Casteel heads of households in the 1840 census for Wayne Co., TN are Henry and his son Andrew.  Andrew is on the same census page as Osburne Kerley and Woodson West.  Henry is also living nearby.  Now, Henry is believed to be born in Greene Co., TN, and based on common migrational routes of the time period, for Henry to go from Greene Co., TN to Wayne Co., TN, he probably would've traveled through the Cumberland Gap into Kentucky, then back down into Tennessee into what is now known as Nashville, Davidson Co., TN.  Then south, possibly through Williamson Co., to Wayne Co., TN.

Confused?  Don't worry.  I was just trying to establish their relationships with each other based on some proven information and some supposed clues.  There are more than just naming patterns here, but basically you have several families that knew each other and all but Henry & Mary Casteel moved from Wayne Co., TN to Johnson Co., IL.  Now, let's take a look at the names of these families.

CASTEEL
Henry & Mary "Polly" (?) Casteel's children: Andrew, Preston Henry, William Riley, John James, Edward, and Lucinda.  [This is the family that I think my Mary & Martha belong to.  By the way, their birth dates fit into this family, too.]  Below are these children's families.  In bold are the ones that seem to repeat.

Andrew Casteel's children: Mary Ann Margaret, Sarah Jane, Lydia C., James Anderson, Louis C., Nancy Adeline, William Henry, John E., and Franklin

Preston Henry Casteel's children: John Henry, Martha Ann, Lydia Jane, and Mary E.

William Riley Casteel's children: Narcisa Tebetha, Joseph F., Minerva Elizabeth, Nancy C., John Henry P., Eliza J., Martha A., William Lafayette, Sarah Malissa, and Susan Jane.

John James Casteel's children: James A., Mary "Polly" Ann, Martha Jane, Sarah R., and Elizabeth

MARTIN [my family]
Nelson & Mary "Polly" Ann (Casteel) Martin: Joel H. [my 2nd great-grandfather], William Green, Andrew Taylor, Genoria Ann, Martha Jane, James Henry, Mary E., Nelson Alexander, Rosencious, and John Franklin. [The Nelson's here aren't a part of the Casteel name pattern, but a part of the Martin one.]

WEST
Woodson & Martha (Casteel) West: Henry, James A., Osburne H, Mary, Martha, William, Amanda E., Narcissie Catherine, Fannie, and Emily.

KERLEY
Osburne & Mary (?) Kerley: Noble A., Daniel McQuillen, Woodson B., Elizabeth, and Nancy E.

[The Woodson and Osburne patterns, as well as the Nelson Martin one, strengthen the theory of the relationships between these families.  They aren't a part of the Casteel name pattern.]

Please tell me you see the naming patterns/repetitions here, too.  They don't follow a particular pattern, but they do repeat.  Mary and Martha both named children after themselves as well as each other.  In the families of the known children of Henry & Mary Casteel, in the listing above either a Mary and/or a Martha and/or Mary's middle name [Ann] were used.  Plus,  the names of the sons of Henry and Mary Casteel appear in Mary's and Martha's childrens' names.  Also, everyone seems to use the name Henry.  When I put these patterns/repetitions into the migrational and relational context [that I provided when I introduced this cast], I felt so much more motivated to pursue my theory of Mary and Martha being sisters and daughters of Henry Casteel and motivated to prove it.  My point in all this, I guess, is that looking for and finding naming patterns/repetitions can help find your family.  Now, I know that some people cringe when looking at so many of the same names in the generations of a family, and it can be discouraging.  Some people view it even as a curse.  I prefer to look at it as a blessing, though.  Albeit, one that I curse now and again!

Modern Naming Patterns

Remember my Grand-Aunt Mary that I mentioned before?  You know, the Mary who married a Harry, the owner of a dairy?  Well, I, too, am a grand-aunt.  [I love that title!]  My grand-niece is part of a naming pattern, too: my mom, her first-born daughter, and her first-born daughter, and my grand-niece [who is also first-born]  all have the middle name Marie. So as far as I'm concerned, everyone can keep honoring other family members by naming their children after them, even [and it pains me to say this] the Mary's. [As if you needed my permission...]  By the way, need I point out that Marie is a form of Mary?  Sheesh!  What is it with these Mary's?

Wordless Wednesday ~ Prize Winning

The Tooth Fairy

Confession Time
I have a confession to make.  My 10 year old son still believes in the tooth fairy as well as all of said fairy's cohorts.  Whew!  I feel so much better.  Not really, though, and here's why:  He refuses to believe they aren't true.  Last year right before Christmas my daughter asked me if I was going to fess-up about Santa to him.  She reminded me that I told her when she was 8, and it was time that  he needed to know.  [sigh]  I had/have 2 problems.  Unlike with my daughter, no one had told my son anything, and he's also my "baby".  It's different with your "baby."  She and I agreed to tell him together, but not directly.  We were going to "feel" him out, so to speak, to try to see how it was going to go.   Well, it didn't go too well.  He just looked at us and said, "Of course there's a Santa."  [Well, duh, of course there's a "santa" ~ me and my husband.]  I asked him if he had heard anything at school or from his friends "about Santa," and he replied, "No, like what?"  My daughter and I looked at each other with our hearts in our eyes [of course, we rolled our eyes, too], and we shrugged our shoulders.  We just didn't have the heart to do it.  I'm not usually a softie, though, but this has been difficult.  I'm usually pretty cut and dry ~ a "this is the way it is, get used  to it" kind of mom, but this is really hard.  At the same time, I absolutely hate keeping up the charade, especially at Christmas.  It's expensive and a lot of work.

Well, I've drug my feet on this issue too long.  Last night my son lost another tooth, and all I could think was "Oh crap.  I don't have a dollar bill!"  I also was out of little-sized ziploc baggies.  So, he had to use a gallon-sized baggie for the tooth.  [Yes, I know it's wasteful, but...]  As far as I'm concerned, if you're old enough to pull your own tooth out, clean up after yourself in the bathroom, and locate a gallon-sized baggie to put your tooth in, then you're too old for the tooth fairy, right?  However, I was tired and didn't feel like having this discussion.  My daughter lent me a dollar bill, which she said I didn't have to pay back right away.  [Her generosity just takes my breath away.]  Then, I waited and waited and waited for him to fall asleep.

I'm pretty sure you can guess what happened.  I fell asleep before he did.  I woke up at 4 a.m. and remembered what I didn't do.  ["Oh crap."] My son had fallen asleep in my daughter's room because they had been watching a movie.  He was on the floor with 2 blankets and 4 pillows.  [Big sigh & another "Oh crap."]  So I began the search for the BIG baggie with the little tooth in it.  No luck.  I checked everywhere very carefully.  No stupid tooth.  I went to his room and checked under the pillows on his bed.  No stupid tooth.  I went back to my daughter's room, and performed another search.  No stupid tooth. ["Oh crap."]

It was now 4:30 a.m., and my son was beginning to stir.  Actually, more than stir.  He flipped over on his side, and mumbled and grunted a little bit, and that was the exact moment that I had this wonderfully brilliant idea. [Uh-oh.]  If I woke him up quickly like he was having a bad dream & told him maybe he should go to the bathroom, then I could really look under all those pillows and blankets for that stupid tooth.  Well, it worked like a charm.  When I woke him up and told him he must have been having a bad dream.  He replied, "Really?  I didn't know."  [I am so evil.]  So I suggested he go to the bathroom, and he went.  As I was frantically methodically searching  for his stupid tooth, my daughter began to stir as well.  She must have overheard us, because she remarked, "Wow.  I didn't hear anything.  He was really having a bad dream?"  Of course, she had her eyes closed, so she couldn't see what I was doing.  With one hand I was "feeling the pillows" thinking that maybe he was "testing" the tooth fairy, and with the other hand I was trying to signal to her to be quiet and help.  Did I forget to mention that this is 4:30 am and that other than the light from the bathroom, it's quite dark?  Well, she finally opens her eyes and realizes what I'm doing, and says, "Ooooohhhh."  I heard him coming back to the room.  Still no stupid tooth.  ["Oh crap."]  He lays back down, and as he's pulling the blankets up, he says "I can't believe I was having a bad dream.  I don't even remember it." [Guilty sigh.]  I walked out of the room with the dollar bill instead of the stupid tooth.  The kids fell back asleep, but I didn't.

Later when he woke up, I asked him if the tooth fairy had come [because dang it, I wanted to know where that stupid tooth was].  You want to know what his reply was?  "No.  I forgot to put it under my pillow last night.  It's on top of my bookcase in my room."  [Stupid sigh.]  I must tell him the truth...someday.  Either that, or he knows and he's playing me for all it's worth.

The Family Jewels

The 16th Edition of Smile For The Camera: "Bling, Ancestor, Bling" which will be hosted by Thomas at Geneabloggers

[Bling Ancestor banner provided by the footnoteMaven, also of "Shades of the Departed" fame.]

Joseph Marschall/Marshall, Sr.

[My grandfather, a.k.a. Big Paw Paw]

This is his World War I Victory Medal. 

U.S. Army, 29th Company, 3rd Group, 165th Brigade

Joel Arthur Martin

[My Great-Grandfather, a.k.a. "Pop"; he's my grandmother's (Paw Paw's) father]

Fairly certain that this is his Cortebert Railroad Pocketwatch.  The second hand still works, but the pocketwatch is in need of refurbishing.

Rettie Maye Martin

[My grandmother on my Dad's side; a.k.a. Paw Paw, daughter of Joel (above) and wife of Big Paw Paw.] This is a picture of her wearing her 3 strand pearls.

Speaking of 3 Strand Pearls...

My father gave my mother these pearls around 1958.  They're costume jewelry with rhinestones, but they photograph well, don't you think?  My mother gave them to me on my wedding day in 1994, and one day they'll be my daughter's pearls.

...And One More "Pearl"

Remember the beautiful Pearl Williams Pointer?  Well, this pocketwatch below belonged to her father, A.O. Williams.  It was passed down to Pearl.  Then it was passed down to her son Forrest Pointer, my husband's grandfather.  It was made by Elgin in 1904 with 7 jewels, and was one of 110,000 made.  It's keywind (hunter's case) and lever set.  The Fob attached to it is rather interesting.  It reads "The South Bend Malleable Range, All Ways Preferable. Trade Mark."  On the back it reads: "The Malleable Range Mfg. Co., South Bend, IN, U.S.A."

Wordless Wednesday: A Parking Lot

Disasters: Not Today

Carnival of Genealogy ~ 77th Edition
"Disasters"

"As human beings, our very existence is proof of the survival skills, faith, or just plain luck our ancestors possessed in order to persevere through millenia of disasters: epidemics, wars, pestilences, famines, accidents, and acts of nature."  Here is my submission for the 77th Edition of Carnival of Genealogy, "Disasters" that will be hosted by Miriam at AnceStories:


Not Today

As I listen to Harris County's Judge Ed Emmett on the radio give his reminders and suggestions for hurricane preparedness, I am reminded of the ferociousness of Mother Nature and just how much she doesn't change.  While the world in which she exists improves and updates, her fierceness stays the same.  As relentless as Mother Nature can be, the human spirit is that much more determined.  More determined to rebuild after the destruction that Mother Nature leaves in her wake.  More determined to be bigger than what she has destroyed.  More determined to be better than what existed before she leveled the landscape.  For while Mother Nature doesn't change, neither does Man.  Man's spirit - in the face of adversity, in the face of death, and in the face of destruction - fights back with a hand in the air, as if to say, "You didn't get the best of me!"  This struggle between Man and Mother Nature has always been.  It has not changed.

In the area of the country that I live in, the Gulf Coast, we have heat, occasional flooding, and tornadoes, but the weather "buzzword" that seems to get everyone's attention, and rightly so, is "hurricane."  Of course, if you're "from" the Gulf Coast, you are merely alert at the mention of a hurricane.  Before you get all upset about the notion of standing in long lines for additional water [you can never have too much], you must first assess the hurricane situation.  Is it in the Gulf yet?  What category is it?  What's the wind speed?  How fast is it moving?  Where's it suppose to hit?  Are they evacuating the oil rigs yet?  What does Frank say?  [O.K., Frank's one of our local weather guys, and he's the one I place all my meteorological trust in.  If Frank says, "Don't worry," I don't worry.  If Frank says, "worry," I worry.  However, I'm sure you could replace his name with the name of your own meteorological "know-it-all", but for me, it's Frank - all the way.]

Today we are blessed and spoiled when it comes to being prepared for Mother Nature's fierceness.  We are able to buy batteries, gasoline, ice, beer, water, crackers, chips, bean dip, Cheese Whiz, Spam, and other canned goods - all to be prepared for the "x" amount of time you'll be without electricity .  [Warning: Hurricanes really do bring out the finer [or stranger] palate and are not for the faint of heart, or rather, stomach.] While we are better prepared nowadays, there is something that is still the same.  Once the hurricane hits the coast, once the flooding from the storm surge begins, once the lights go off, and once the torrential rain bands come, you are in the middle of a hurricane.  There's no going back.  It's just you and Mother Nature.  The same as it was for your ancestors before you.  The same as it was for my ancestors before me.

Last year [2008], my family and I were well-prepared for Hurricane Ike, or at least as much  as one can be.  After everything was purchased, after all the camping gear was carefully laid out ready for use, after all the patio furniture, plants, and my car were packed into the garage, and after a huge meal of steak and fresh Gulf shrimp was eaten [to clean out the freezer], we sat down and watched Frank on the T.V. explain our situation right up until the lights went out with the first forceful winds of Ike.

Much later in the evening after the eye of the storm had passed, I was laying on one of our couches located in front of a big window listening to the rainstorm and sweating.  [It seems hotter when you know you can't escape it.]  My genealogical mind couldn't help but wonder about my ancestors and their experience with the Storm of 1900 on Galveston Island.  How did their experience compare to mine?  Was there any comparison to be made?

From what I can tell from reading the accounts of the Storm of 1900, the main differences between the two experiences center around being prepared.  To say that they didn't have enough time to prepare for the storm that hit 8 Sep 1900 is an understatement.  [They didn't have Frank like I did and do.]  I have no written account left by my ancestors of what they exactly went through, but a little of the effects of the storm can be determined indirectly.  I can only suppose that one thing we had in common was maybe the feelings of fear, anxiety, and anticipation for daylight to come to be able to see was left and what was not.  My great-grandparents on my Dad's side, John  & Emma (Schleicher) Marschall and their children, John Jr., Jane, Antonetta, Laura Ellen, Rolland, Joseph [my grandfather, "Big Paw Paw"], and Mary all made it through the storm alive.  Thankfully, they left their farm and sought shelter in town, for if they had not, they would not have survived.

With the rising of the sun over the Gulf that next morning, my great-grandfather would soon find out the family farm's fate.  According to Charles Henry McMaster's "Report On Condition of Island Farmers"  in the space for the condition of their farmhouse on Galveston Island are two simple, but devastating words: "All Gone".  Such was the fate of many farmhouses on the island.  The report lists also that my family lost all their horses, but they had fifteen cows, 17 farm tools, and 200 household items left.  I've tried to imagine what my great-grandfather's thoughts were upon learning the extent of the damage.  Certainly, this hadn't been part of his plan when he came from Posen, Prussia to the Port of Galveston on Christmas Day in 1878.  I'm sure he was thankful that his wife and seven children were safe and sound [unlike so many other island families], but how was he going to feed those 8 mouths?  How was he going to support his family?  Likewise, I can only imagine what my great-grandmother was thinking and feeling when she heard those words, "All gone".  What exactly those 200 household items that were left were, I have no idea [my junk drawer, alone, probably has 200 items in it], but can you imagine how Emma felt?  How she felt about the loss of momentos such as pressed flowers tucked inside books, letters, photographs, journals, diaries, possibly a family bible, and jewelry.  All "things", certainly, but they were her "things".  All "things" that had meant something to her, and all were either lost or damaged.  "Things" aside though, the same question that was running through her husband's mind was probably running through hers as well.  How was she going to feed her seven children?  I can only imagine the destruction and grief that they and all the islanders faced that next morning.

As is typical after a storm [then and now], the community pulled themselves up by their boot straps, took account of the damage that was left, and got to work repairing and rebuilding.  Some 8000 people did not make it through the Storm of 1900 as my family did.  The survivors, however, persevered and rebuilt the island, strengthening it for the future storms that would come.  My family also "rebuilt" themselves with John and Emma's children growing up, marrying, and having children of their own.  Two of John's sons would eventually be in real estate development - John Jr. in Galveston and Joseph [my grandfather] in San Antonio.  Both, incidentally, building communities.

My ancestors' experience the day after the storm was nothing like mine and my family's - not really.  While I knew that my family was O.K. like they did, I additionally knew that my "things" were O.K. and that my husband still was employed.  We had been prepared for Ike and had all the necessities.  Our future was not in question, and we were going to be O.K.  Another part of our good fortune was our location.  We live about 80 miles northwest of Galveston Island, Texas.  We had a lot of wind and rain, which caused our electricity to be off for nine days.  We were merely uncomfortable, but we weren't worried about our future like my ancestors must have been in 1900.  However, those who lived on the coast when Ike hit, were not so lucky.  While the loss of human life due to preparedness was vastly different, their experiences with the loss of their "things" and their livelihoods because of Ike were more like that of my ancestors.

One thing that can be said about the Gulf Coast storms - whether it be 1900 or 2008 - Islanders of Galveston [and the people of the surrounding areas] continue to raise their hand in the air, as if to say to Mother Nature, "You didn't get the best of me.  Not Today."

[If you have the time, I strongly encourage you to take a look at the photos from Ike here.  They are a better depiction of the aftereffects than I could ever put into words.  The pictures below are of comparisons of certain places [and my children] between Galveston, pre-Ike 2008 and Galveston, post-Ike 2009.]













More information & photos can be found concerning both storms in the following places:

• Galveston and Texas History Center, Rosenberg Library
• Storm of 1900 Online Exhibit, Rosenberg Library
• Picure of home [located on the left], where my Grand Uncle would later live in 1927, during the grade raising after the storm in 1900.
• Galveston Historical Foundation
• Photos of before and after Ike