Here's My Plan, Stan

[Note: This is a series of posts that is an investigation of 5 murders.  The first post was "He Had Me At 'Detective,'" and this post is my plan of attack, so to speak.]


Here's the Problem:

If the fire that killed my grandmother's brother, Roscoe Benton Martin, and his four children in 1957 was ruled as arson, then who killed them?  Whether the arson investigation was solved or not, who set the fire and why?

So, What Do I Know?

• Roscoe Benton Martin was born on 19 Mar 1911 in Bloomfield, Johnson County, Illinois to Joel Arthur Martin and Lillie May (Alley) Martin. He was the second of four children in total and the first of three children surviving to adulthood.
• His mother, Lillie May died 6 Jun 1918 when Roscoe was 7yo.
• Roscoe is found with his father and two sisters in Stonefort, Williamson County, Illinois in the 1920 population census.
• Roscoe was in the United States Army [as per 2 photographs of my grandmother's now in my possession].
• Roscoe was living with his two sisters, Rettie Maye and Mabel Irene in Precinct 8, Fort Bend County, Texas in the 1930 population census.
• Roscoe married Norma Ethel Conroy sometime before 1942 in Johnson County, Illinois.
• Roscoe and Norma had four children: Jack, Bill, Jerry, and Cheryl Maye [exact dates need verification].
• Norma Ethel Conroy was born abt. 1922 in Johnson County, Illinois to Emmett Cecil Conroy and Frieda A. Hall. Her siblings were William N. Conroy and Raymond Lester Conroy.
• According to my grandmother, Roscoe died in a house fire trying to save his children in Illinois.
• Information found in two newspaper articles (The Hammond Times 16 Jul 1957 and 17 Jul 1957 accessed on Ancestry.com) is as follows:

1. Roscoe (46yo), John (14yo), William (12yo), Jerry (10yo), and Cheryl (3yo) were all killed Sunday, 14 Jul 1957 in a house fire approximately 6 miles north of Vienna, Illinois.
2. Don Pender (a guest in the home), Roscoe, and a Billy McCuan (from nearby Tunnell Hill) were all “in the home prior to the fire”.
3. Norma Martin, Roscoe's wife, escaped from the fire “uninjured”.
4. The fire was reported by Don Pender, who also escaped the fire.
5. “Billy McCuan was found sleeping in his car near the home.”
6. An empty 5-gallon gasoline can was found outside the home and two rooms in the home were found to have gasoline in them, leading investigators to suspect arson.
7. “The bodies were retrieved from under a portion of the tin roof.”
8. “Firemen were hindered due to a lack of water near the residence and had to draw water from a nearby pond.”
9. “Three state investigators, armed with a lie detector, launched an arson investigation.”
10. Norma Martin (Roscoe's wife), Don Pender, and Billy McCuan were all “given a lie detector test and were completely cleared from any connection to the fire.”
11. The Johnson County, Illinois sheriff at the time was Orlan Cox.
12. The police chief (of Vienna?) was Bill Barnett.
13. After the lie detector test, Sheriff Cox still felt that it was arson, but “had no leads.”
    

What Do Others Know?

Online memorials were found on findagrave:

• A wife of a distant cousin created online memorials on Findagrave for Roscoe, John, William, Jerry, and Cheryl. She mentions the fire, and that they were all killed in it.
• Also states the full names of Roscoe and his children: Roscoe Benton, John Winston, William Lester, Jerry Ray, and Cheryl Maye.
• States all of their ages at death, full birth dates [John b.14 Sep 1942; William b. 26 Apr 1945; Jerry b. 18 Sep 1948; Cheryl b. 2 Oct 1953] and their death date.
• The birthdate that is listed on the online memorial for Roscoe Benton Martin is the same birthdate that my Paw Paw listed on the back of his Army headshot photo.
• States that Roscoe had been in the United States Army from 1929-1939.
• States they are all buried in Taylor Cemetery in Vienna, Johnson County, Illinois.
  

  So, I Think I Have A Few Questions...

• Was Roscoe employed at the time of the fire? If so, what was his occupation? Had Norma been employed outside of the home?
• How was Roscoe's and Norma's relationship? Were they “getting along”?
• Who were Billy McCuan and Don Pender, and how well did Roscoe and Norma know them?
• According to the newspaper article, the bodies were retrieved from under a portion of the tin roof. How were the bodies laying, exactly, and where? Were they all together?
• How big was the house? Did each child have their own room, or did they share?
• Was Don Pender going to stay the night? Where was he from?
• Why was Billy McCuan sleeping in his car? Had he or any of the others been drinking alcoholic beverages?
• What time did the fire start, and when was it reported?
• How did Don Pender report the fire? Did he make the phone call before he exited the house?
• Were there other houses nearby? Had they been living in a neighborhood or in the country?
• What 2 rooms in the house had been doused with gasoline?
• How can a lie detector test be used to clear 3 people in an arson case in 1957 when in 2009 the results of a lie detector test aren't usually admissable in court?
• How accurate was a lie detector test in 1957? What is the timeline & history of the lie detector test?
• Where was Roscoe's father, Joel Arthur Martin living at the time of the fire? What other relatives lived in the area?
• Did Norma's family live nearby?
• If 2 rooms in the house had been doused with gasoline [obviously before the fire] and the house had been occupied by Roscoe, Norma, Billy McCuan, and Don Pender before the fire, why didn't they smell the gasoline? The fumes would have been quite noticeable.
• Previous to their guests coming over, had they left the house unoccupied on the day of the fire, Sunday? When and for how long?
• Where had the children been? Was the fire before “bedtime” or after?
• Has this arson case ever been solved? Where would this investigation paperwork be located now?
• If 3 state investigators gave the lie detector test, would there be any state-level investigation paperwork, and where would that be located?
• What happened to Norma after the fire? Where did she go?

So, Where To Look?

• Johnson County clerk's office [Illinois] http://www.idph.state.il.us/vitalrecords/countylisting.htm
• Johnson County Genealogical and Historical Society [membership = $13] http://johnsoncountyil.net/
• My aunt [my dad's sister]
• Wife of distant cousin from Findagrave http://findagrave.com/
• Illinois Regional Archives Depository [IRAD] http://www.cyberdriveillinois.com/departments/archives/irad/iradhome.html
• Southern Illinois University at Carbondale [houses Johnson County records] http://www.cyberdriveillinois.com/departments/archives/irad/siumap.html
• Illinois Genealogy Trails http://www.genealogytrails.com/ill/
• Johnson County, Illinois Genealgy Trails http://www.myillinoisgenealogy.com/il-county-johnson.html
• ILGenWeb for Johnson County http://johnson.ilgenweb.net/
• Rootsweb for Johnson County Illinois http://www.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~iljohns2/
• Rootsweb for other researchers. [mailing list]
• Ancestry.com [census, newspapers, military, message board, SSDI, obituary, etc.] http://ancestry.com/
• Genforum message boards. Check through surname and county boards] Http://Genforum.com
• Contact the Barnett surname/family researcher that I met through Genealogy Wise of this target area to see if there's any relation to the Police Chief Bill Barnett
• Contact the Vaughn family researcher that I met through Ancestry.com Message Board.
  
• Google Earth & Google Search
• My Illinois Genealogy [Johnson County] http://www.myillinoisgenealogy.com/il-county-johnson.html
• Pope and Johnson County Illinois Information http://www.myillinoisgenealogy.com/il-county-johnson.html
• The Family Tree Resource Book for Genealogists [Ed. By Carmack and Nevius]
• Clayton Library Center for Genealogical Research, Houston, Texas http://www.houstonlibrary.org/clayton
• Montgomery County Memorial Library, Conroe, Texas http://www.countylibrary.org/gen.htm
• Family Search http://familysearch.com/
• Interment, Cemetery Records Online http://www.interment.net/
• National Archives and Records Administration http://www.archives.gov/veterans/military-service-records/get-service-records.html
• Johnson County, Illinois Sheriff's Dept. http://www.road-police.com/police/Illinois/Vienna/property_3524/police.html

What To Do First?

I will outline my strategy in the next post/update as well as any research I've completed at the time. My plan involves using genealogical skills combined with some “creativity”. It's also going to take some ingenuity because I have no budgetary plans to travel to Johnson County, Illinois [unfortunately]. The first thing I'll need to do is give you the “lay of the land,” so to speak. I've never been there, but all of my grandmother's lines come from there, and I've had the opportunity to “meet” some researchers from this area online as well as research the area. Hopefully, this will help. It was a close-knit community then, and it's a close-knit community now. Moreover, it's an area where “outsiders” aren't really welcome, but I'm getting ahead of myself. More on this community and the time period in which this crime took place will be in my next post. So, that's my plan, Stan. Have I forgotten anything? [I'm sure I have...] Or do you have any additional questions that you think I should be asking?  Let me know.  Please, post your comments below.

Wordless Wednesday: Boo! ca. 1946

Boo! ca. 1946

Crazy Mercy In A Swimsuit

Well I finally did it.  I had enough guts to look at the keywords/phrases that people Google that lead them to Family Stories [provided by Google Analytics].  I say, "guts" because I've heard horror stories about the words and phrases that come up.  I mean, did I really want to know?  Now that I've gone over the report, oh yeah, I want to know!  While on our 3-mile morning walk, I was telling my husband some of the phrases, and we were laughing so hard that it was messing up our pace, which is a big "thing" for my husband.  I take my phone on our walk, and before we begin my husband always asks me, "Time?" and I always reply, "...to go back to bed."  [See, I'm just as funny in real life as in virtual life.]

I am very happy to report that the first 6 keyphrases that generated the most visits involved some kind of variation of "family stories".  Overall, there were 33 keyphrases that involved some form of "family stories" bringing a total of 310 visits with this phrase in the last 30 days .  That's a good thing since that's the title of my blog.  Some of the funnier ones were:

• "my family story" [Obviously, this person was hoping that someone had already done the research on their surname, My.]
• "sad family stories" [I have a few, but I know I don't really want to seek my own sad family stories out, much less someone else's.]
• "spanish stories about what your family does every day" [Que?]
• "stories about family problems" [Read on ~ I've got plenty of those.]
• "stories that include grandmother and family" [Hm.  Grandmother?  Stories?  I just might have a few of those around here somewhere.]
• "what are family stories" and "what is your family story?" [You have SO come to the right place.]

There were 21 visits generated from phrases that involved the word "Alamo" and most were concerning projects.  This indicates to me that there a lot of teachers that are assigning Alamo projects, and probably didn't appreciate my post, "Remember the Alamo!"  However, I'm real sure that the parents did.  It also indicates to me that there is a real need for a site/blog for Alamo and/or student projects, and if I could find a way to make money at it,  I'd be all over it like cheese dust on a cheetoh [What's in cheese dust anyway?].

There were 9 visits generated by searches that included the word "kringla".  I know exactly which blog post that this came from ~ Family Trees and Norwegian Kringla from Iowa.  Apparently, there are others out there that are seeking the secret of the kringla.  I am not alone.  Somehow, there is comfort in that.  Unfortunately for these seekers, my post does not unravel the secret, but it does provide commiseration.
There were 7 visits generated by searches that involved the phrase "swimsuit" [mostly from my posts "Family Stories: Swimsuit Edition" and "Remember the Alamo!"] including:

• "john wayne in swim suit" [Why is someone Googling this?  Never mind.  I really don't want to know.]
• "swimsuit accident stories" [What kind of accidents are there with swimsuits? Malfunctions?]
• "my sister swimsuit pics" [Eeeww, I think.]
• "family pictures taken in swimsuits" [Uh.  See previous, I think.]

There were 5 visits generated by the following 2 phrases: "stories of mercy" and "stories about mercy".  This was caused by my post "Does Time Reveal Mercy" which is the name of an ancestor of my husband's and was probably not what they were looking for, but I could be wrong.

There were 3 visits generated by phrases that involved the word "crazy" that were caused by my post, "Sometimes Crazy Works":

• (2) "sometimes crazy works" [I know what I meant by crazy.  What did they mean?]
• "crazy family living stories" [Were they just curious about crazy families or were they looking for some commiseration because I have that...And "living" as opposed to what? Dead?]

There were 3 visits generated by the keyword/name "Oscar" that were mainly caused by my post "What's In A Name: Oscar". [Amazing, right?]  Two of them were:

• "the story of name Oscar" [I definitely had one of those, but was it the one they were looking for?]
• "what do you think of the name Oscar" [Well, I think it's a fine name...especially for a donkey.  See my post.]

There were 2 visits generated by the keywords "mitochondria" and "organelle" caused by my post, "It Could".  I am real sure that it wasn't what they were looking for, but I think I could hold my own in a discussion of mitochondria.  I'm just not willing to bore my readers with all the details.  Here were the keyphrases:

• "funny short stories about organelles" [You know, I had everything but the "funny" with my post.  You can't please everybody.  Oh, and who is looking for and why, exactly, are they looking for these kinds of stories?  Are organelles really all that funny?]
• "what does the prefix mito mean from the word mitochondria" [I'm glad you asked.  It means "threadlike".  See, I can hold my own.]

There were some miscellaneous ones that were funny as well:

• "a girl and tin cup" [Was there someone else with a 2nd great-grandma who would get her tin cup filled up with Irish Whiskey in the back of a saloon? "I'd Bet My Tin Cup"]
• "angels in purple robes" [Did someone else have a naked grandma in heaven? "Becoming Aware"]
• "cajun historical stories" [I have one story about my cajun neighbor ~ probably wasn't what they were looking for, but hey, they stayed & read for seven minutes and forty seconds, or they got up to go to the bathroom with it still on the screen. "A Cajun's Who's Who"]
• "dad's name with extra d" [Daddy?  Buddy?  I don't know.  I need more to work with.]
• "how to start an orange orchard in the rio grande valley" [Plant an orange seed. Water. Pick oranges. Start over. From "Maybe I Could Touch Heaven"]
• "it's a family bag" [Hee-Hee.  I know they weren't looking for this bag: "It's In the Bag"]
• "slingbaum genealogy" [This is Mercy's maiden name.  Obviously, she was on the receiving end of some mercy when she married a Haley.  No offense to any Slingbaum's out there.  I give you permission to make fun of my name all you want to. "Did Time Reveal Mercy?"]
• "what are the pointer stories" [I'll show you mine if you show me yours.]

All joking aside, for the last 30 days, through Google search, I had 406 visits through 116 keywords with 96% new visits.  The longest time spent reading my stories was: 29 minutes and 14 seconds, or they fell asleep reading, or ate a meal with my blog site still on the screen.  Not really bad considering I wasn't trying.  So, if you see that my new posts have a whole bunch of keywords, you'll know why I'm doing it.  I'm just kidding.  I'm not going to do that. [Really.]

He Had Me at "Detective"

So What's Your Magical Number?
I was officially employed at the age of eight.  I mean, really employed ~ not "pick-up your clothes, make your bed, brush your teeth, and here's your 2 bucks", but an honest-to-God job.  Considering child labor laws, how was this possible, you ask?  Well, when you work for your parents, they don't apply.  My dad had a kind of all-around truck and trailer business ~ the eighteen-wheeler kind.  No, he wasn't a truck driver, nor did he own a trucking company [which I get that a lot], but he had a mechanic's shop that did, well, what a mechanic's shop does.  In addition, he had a paint and body shop, a frame machine that could bend a trailer's frame back into position after a wreck, sold truck & trailer parts, sold new and used trailers, and sold used heavy-duty trucks.  Like I said, it was an all-around truck and trailer business that, in it's heyday, did very well.  I guess eight was the magical number that my dad decided was the perfect age to bring his little girl into the family biz, so to speak.  So, what was my job title?  I was the official "heavy-duty truck and trailer parts inventory clerk" [and "do whatever else your dad and your older brother tell you to do"].  In other words, my job every summer was to count big, greasy, and sometimes unidentifiable parts.  Most of the parts were identified with parts numbers and other important data that I was to mark down along with the count.   The ones that weren't labeled, I was supposed to mark with a round neon-colored sticker for someone else to problem-solve.  I even had my own official clipboard.  I started out at 10 bucks a week, and that was my magical number to get the job done.

Green-Screened IBM Monsters
Each summer my dad added a little more to my duties [of course], but he upped my pay as well.  By this time, though, I was working for my mom at her pet shop [a story for another time], but I was given "time off" to help dad with inventory.  After I would complete a particular section I was taught to enter the data into the computer [remember those old green-screened IBM monsters?].  When I came upon an item that didn't have a part number, instead of leaving it for someone else to solve, my dad showed me how to figure out the manufacturer, look it up by picture in the gazillion catalogs he had, and obtain the information to enter into the computer.  [O.K., can I just pause and say that, just now, all that was easier to explain and type than to do?]  When my dad first explained it to me, he said, "Caroline, it's like you're a detective and you're trying to solve a mystery.  Keep looking.  You can find it.  Solve the mystery."  Well being an avid Nancy Drew and Trixie Belden fan [which he very well knew], he had me at, "detective".

The Irony
I find it ironic now that the man who taught to me how to problem solve [and so many other things] was the same man who asked me in high school to "do" our family tree and is the same man whose family has 5 related unsolved murders that, to the best of my knowledge, he thought were deaths ~ not murders.  While growing up, I had heard several times from my mom that my Paw Paw's [my dad's mom's] brother had been killed in a house fire trying to save his four children.  Then, when I interviewed my Paw Paw for my family tree project my senior year in high school, I remember her telling me that very same story.  She, of course, gave me his name for the tree, but she didn't volunteer anymore information, my mother didn't know anything else, and I never asked anymore about it.  That is, until now. 

The Duke's, Roscoe, and More Snow
Unfortunately, my Paw Paw passed away 6 years ago, and I'm not able to ask her any questions.  In trying to take her line back, I had some difficulties with the spelling of her name, Rettie Maye Martin.  Sometimes, she went by Rettie and sometimes she went by Maye, and both names are easily phonetically misspelled.  The one item that "saved" me was that I remembered her brother's name.  Remember, the show "Duke's of Hazzard" [not the movie, but the t.v. show]?  Do you remember Boss Hogg's sheriff, Rosco P. Coltrain? [and, wow, you can follow the actor that played Rosco on Twitter.  Will wonders never cease?]  Anyhow, that's how I remembered my Paw Paw's brother's name, Roscoe Martin.  [Silly?  Yes, but did it work?  Uh, yeah.]  Roscoe's name was a much easier name to follow in the census with usually only 2 variances [Rosco/Roscoe].  I was able to trace them from Texas back to Illinois, where they were born, which I had also remembered from our interview.  You want to know how I remembered that?  Simple, at the time it was beyond my comprehension that she was not born in Texas.  [Isn't everyone born in Texas? ;) ]  Also, when she told me she was from Illinois, my reply was, "You mean, where it snows?"  [I told you we South Texans are enamored with the whole snow concept ~ the fluffy kind, not the ice kind.]

Seeing Their Faces Made Their Story Come Alive
Remember Hurricane Ike and how my kids, my dog, and I stayed with my sister in San Antonio for a few days, and I acquired quite a few family photographs, mostly from my Dad's side of the family?  Well, amongst all of them were some photos of Roscoe [with his full name, Roscoe Benton Martin, written on the back], as well as photos of all 4 of his children.  There were also photos of him and his wife and of him and his sister, my Paw Paw.  While looking at the photos, I was captivated because I realized I was looking at the family ~ my family ~ that had perished in a house fire.  All of the photos were identified on the back in my Paw Paw's handwriting.  When I got home, I entered their data in my database software [Rootsmagic] and on my Ancestry.com tree, which is used solely to connect with other possible family members. [In other words, it's not complete, but I use it as my "clue" tree.]  A few days later, I decided to look on findagrave.com for my Martin's in both Johnson County and Williamson County in Illinois.  To my delight [not really delight, but you know what I mean, right?], I stumbled upon Roscoe's and his four children's online memorials.  The house fire that killed them was referenced, and the information had been entered by the wife of a distant cousin.  "Hm," I thought to myself.  "I need to contact her to possibly exchange information."  There were no pictures of Roscoe and his children nor of their tombstones, but did have photos of the cemetery's sign/plaque.  So, I quickly scanned my photos of them and added them to their respective memorials, to my Ancestry.com tree, and to my Rootsmagic software.  I then went on to other Martin's.  [I have since updated the photos.]  On, yet, another day, I began to think about the house fire, and I thought that maybe, just maybe, there had a been a write-up in the local newspaper about it.  After all, this was a small community, and five of it's citizens had perished in one night.  [Sounds reasonable, right?]

The Summer of 1957
So, I searched on Ancestry.com with all of Roscoe's pertinent information, and I got 2 positive hits [at least as far as I had looked].  I quickly found and read the first article, and yes, there was a house fire; and yes, Roscoe and all 4 of his children perished in that fire in the summer of 1957; but the investigators had determined that it was arson.  My heart dropped into my stomach at reading that, but I think my heart actually stopped beating for just a second as I read that Roscoe's wife and two men that they knew had been in the home for some time before the fire started [meaning that evening], and that Roscoe's wife and one of the men had got out unscathed.  And the other man?  He'd been sleeping in his car located on their street.  Oookay, these details were a bit suspicious, but what convinced the investigators that it was arson?  Well, I think the empty 5-gallon gasoline can located right outside the house and the two rooms in the house that had gasoline poured in them were pretty convincing.  I thought at the time, "Oh my God.  Someone needs to solve those murders." [Duh.]  Then a couple of weeks ago as I was fixing Roscoe's photo and creating a design for it to share with y'all for a Wordless Wednesday post, I started thinking about him and his children, and how unfair it was that their lives were taken.  Four beautiful children. [Don't you think?]  It also got me to thinking how unfair it was that these murders may have never been solved, to the best of my knowledge.  Why hadn't , my Paw Paw known, or if she had, why didn't she say anything?  Had it been too painful?  Thankfully she had their photos and identified them...for me.  I was thinking again that someone needed to look into this, and I was beginning to think that "someone" was me.  After all, when someone murdered Roscoe, his three boys, and his little girl, they ended the Martin surname, at least as far as my great-grandfather's line is concerned.  So, I've decided to "own" this one.  I mean, technically speaking their family story ended when they died in that house fire, but for me, that's an unacceptable ending.  After all, my middle name is Martin, so actually their story kind of "owns" me, and if not the person who solely carries the name in my great-grandfather's line, then who?

Let's Interact
I've decided to make this ongoing investigation a series of posts.  This means that as I research, I will be posting at least once a week with updates ~ kind of an "in-process, step-by-step" kind of thing.  Also, I invite all of your hints, tips, and suggestions.  Yup, I'm making it interactive.  That is, if you want to interact.  If not, then feel free ~ as always ~ to watch the ending of this family story unfold.  So, whaddya' think?  Don't Roscoe, Jack, Bill, Jerry, and little Cheryl Maye deserve to have their family story completed?  Don't they deserve to rest in peace?  So, "What's in a Name?"  Well, in this case, a family mystery.

I can almost hear my dad saying, "Caroline, it's like you're a detective and you're trying to solve a mystery.  Keep looking.  You can find it.  Solve the mystery."

Sources:

Texas. Fort Bend County. 1930 U.S. census, population schedule. Digital images. Ancestry.com. http://www.ancestry.com : 2007.

Illinois. Williamson County. 1920 U.S. census, population schedule. Digital images. Ancestry.com. http://www.ancestry.com : 2007.

Illinois. Johnson County. 1910 U.S. census, population schedule. Digital images. Ancestry.com. http://www.ancestry.com : 2007.

United Press, "Probe Deaths of 5 in Fire," The Hammond Times, 16 Jul 1957, p. 5, col. 2; digital images, Ancestry.com (http://www.ancestry.com : 15 Oct 2008), Historical Newspaper Collection.

Brown, Ann, Find A Grave (http://findagrave.com/ : accessed 16 Oct 2008), "Martin, Roscoe Benton," Memorial #8494172.

Brown, Ann, Find A Grave (http://findagrave.com/ : accessed 16 Oct 2008), "Martin, John "Jack" Winston," Memorial #8494193.

Brown, Ann, Find A Grave (http://findagrave.com/ : accessed 16 Oct 2008), "Martin, William "Bill" Lester," Memorial #8494179.

Brown, Ann, Find A Grave (http://findagrave.com/ : accessed 16 Oct 2008), "Martin, Jerry Ray," Memorial #8494152.

Brown, Ann, Find A Grave (http://findagrave.com/ : accessed 16 Oct 2008), "Martin, Cheryl Maye," Memorial #8494212.

Photo Credits:

Martin, Roscoe Benton. Photograph. ca. 1931. Digital Image. Privately held by Caroline Martin Pointer, [address for private use,] Conroe, Texas. 2008.

Martin, John "Jack" Winston. Photograph. ca. 1954. Digital Image. Privately held by Caroline Martin Pointer, [address for private use,] Conroe, Texas. 2008.

Martin, William "Bill" Lester. Photograph. ca. 1954. Digital Image. Privately held by Caroline Martin Pointer, [address for private use,] Conroe, Texas. 2008.

Martin, Jerry Ray. Photograph. ca. 1954. Digital Image. Privately held by Caroline Martin Pointer, [address for private use,] Conroe, Texas. 2008.


Martin, Cheryl Maye. Photograph. ca. 1954. Digital Image. Privately held by Caroline Martin Pointer, [address for private use,] Conroe, Texas. 2008.

Wordless Wednesday: Girl, You Should've Been in Pictures

Rettie Maye Martin, 1920's & 1930's
[my grandmother, Paw Paw]

 

It Could

Not In South Texas
"Maybe it will snow today," my brother exclaimed.  My mother for the umpteenth time just shook her head then said, "It's not going to snow.  It doesn't snow in South Texas.  Maybe in San Antonio and every once in a while in the Hill Country, but not here in South Texas."  To which my brother replied, "It could!"  My mother, knowing that there are certain battles worth winning and this wasn't one of them, rolled her eyes heavenward and unconvincingly agreed with him by saying, "You're right.  It could," which always left a smug look on my brother's face.

The White Snow On the Other Side
You see, my brother and I had always wanted to experience snow.  Having been born and raised in the tropical climate of South Texas, we'd never even seen snow other than on T.V.  You know the saying, "The grass is always greener on the other side?"  Well, our grass was most definitely green on our side, but all we wanted was that white snow on the other side of the fence.  Every time a cold front was supposed to blow-in getting us anywhere near freezing temperatures, the meteorologists [probably out of sheer boredom of constantly saying "...there's no rain in the forecast and there will be clear, blue skies today..."] would always tease us with "We may get some snow."  We'd always roll our eyes heavenward and go about our business as usual.  We never did see any of that snow.

Back in the Day...
Today my brother would've been 30 years old [which definitely makes me feel old...].  I say, "would've" because Patrick Nicholas Marshall courageously battled a very rare mitochondrial genetic disorder that slowly robbed his body of its energy until one day there was no more energy to sustain his life.  He passed away in 1997 at the age of 18.  Because of the rarity of his disease, my father and I did an extreme amount of research on the internet on his particular disease, MELAS.  Of course, this was "back in the day" when there weren't very many people using the internet.  The thought has crossed my mind more than once that maybe some of my love and know-how for internet research came from this time period in my life.  Who knows?

Living Is Always Easier Than Explaining
I learned a lot both from Patrick's life and his death.  So much that I think I could fill a book with his story [which I plan to do some day...].  However, one of the things I wanted to share with you today on his 30th birthday is about family relationships.  In your genealogical research, have you come across any households where there are one or more extended relatives living there?  Maybe an uncle and aunt raising a nephew or niece along with their own children?  Or maybe grandparents raising grandchildren?  I've come across it many times while researching especially in census research, and it always gets me to wondering.  You see, Patrick wasn't my biological brother, but my nephew.  He was the son of one of my older sisters, and the same disease that robbed him of his energy and life, has also robbed my sister of her mind, leaving her incapable of taking care of herself [much less anyone else].  So, my parents adopted Patrick, and after being the "bonus" baby of the family who was so much younger than her siblings, I got a "much-wanted" brother [definitely a bonus for me].  Our relationship has always been a little confusing to explain to others.  I always tell people that it was easier to live it than it was to explain it.  So, when I see the myriad of households in the census with a "mix" of relatives, I always wonder what their relationship was ~ the one "lived", that is.  What was their story?

A Whole Lot of Learning Going On...
I still remember in 8th grade science learning about the mitochondria, which is basically where all the energy is made for the body.  My best friend and I used some memorization tools to help remember what the mitochondria was and did.  The "M" stood for "mother", indicating the distinct maternal inheritance that the mitochondria has [in other words, it's passed down only through the mother].  Also, the "mito-" prefix sounded like "mighty", indicating that mitochondria were the "powerhouse" of the cell [meaning that's where energy is made].  The one thing we didn't learn was what happens when the mitochondria can't make the energy in the cells of organs that the body needs to sustain life.  That particular lesson I had to learn in real life.  In a nutshell, here is a brief explanation of the mitochondria:  There are anywhere in between 500 and 2000 mitochondria in each cell, all working to make energy for that cell.  There are thousands of cells in each organ in the body, and our body is made up of organs.  Each organ needs a certain amount of energy to carry out its job in the body.  Not all organs need all of them working at 100%.  For example, the liver can get by with only about 80% of the energy it needs.  However, organs like the brain and the heart need everything working at a 100%.  Anything less and things start to go a little haywire, to say the least.  The only reason I mention all of this is that because of Patrick having this disease [as well as my sister and mother], I have looked "down" my family tree and thought about the consequences of the disease.  What I mean is that I and my children have been genetically tested for this disease, and I have thought about the repercussions of the disease going forward in time on my children and future grandchildren.  That was until I had read about mitochondrial genetic testing for genealogy a while back, and how it can help to find maternal ancestors.  I had never thought about this wonderful aspect before ~ looking "up" my family tree to find maternal ancestors based on mitochondrial testing.  How mighty this organelle called the mitochondria truly is!

Giving Up Is Not Allowed
Patrick was in every way that matters my brother.  He and I fought and annoyed each other, but that was only an indication of our closeness.  I had always thought we'd be together, and letting go of him was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do.  In his short 18 years of life, he taught me many things, but most of all, he taught me not to give up. Two days before his funeral the weather man was reporting that on Friday [the day of Patrick's funeral], we were going to be getting a cold front, and as usual, he teased us with the phrase, "It may snow."  Though we had tears in our eyes and heavy hearts, we rolled our eyes heavenward, then continued planning Patrick's funeral service.

I Know He Was Looking Down On Us With A Smug Look on His Face...
On the day of the funeral it, indeed, was very cold and there was sleet, but no snow ~ not that we expected any, really.  The last hymn we sang was Amazing Grace as we followed his casket out of the church.  Once outside the church as we turned to proceed down the sidewalk to the hearse and the limousines, tiny snowflakes began to fall on Patrick's casket, on the cars, and on the ground.  Of course, they melted just as soon as they hit ground, but they were falling.  My mom and I looked at each other with tears in our eyes, said to each other, "It could," and burst out laughing [...another Steel Magnolia moment for me].  To this day, no matter what "it" is, I know that "It could."

Happy Birthday, Patrick!
I love and miss you.

For more information about MELAS and other mitochondrial disorders, please visit the United Mitochondrial Foundation (UMDF) website.

Maybe I Could Touch Heaven

Memories
What is it with the memories that we have of "home"?  It's a welcoming feeling that makes us feel "right".   Our memories are singularly our own that time cannot take away.

"...You Can See It From There"
I've mentioned the area of Texas that I'm from [meaning where I was born and raised] called the Rio Grande Valley [a.k.a. the Valley] on the Texas-Mexico border.  It's what is considered as the "Tip of Texas".  However, the older sister of my childhood best friend liked to say,  "it's not the end of the earth, but you can see it [meaning the end] from there."  It consists of a string of small towns along the border, mas o menos [more or less], that are independent of each other yet connected by geography and an expressway.  At the time that I grew up there, agriculture was a huge industry ~ mainly cotton, corn, sugar cane, and citrus orchards.  [Yep, citrus orchards.]  While Florida and Southern California are more well-known for their citrus orchards, the Rio Grande Valley is the only area in Texas that has a tropical climate that is well-suited for growing citrus.  Though "the freeze of 1983" devastated the citrus industry in the Rio Grande Valley, some citrus is still grown there today.

Cotton Pickin'
Though, I lived in a small town that couldn't really be described as the "country", I certainly knew where the "country" was located [just outside of town ;)].  There are certain events and smells that are so ingrained in who I am that when I experience them outside of the Valley, I am instantly transported back to my childhood.  For example, during cotton's harvest [a.k.a. cotton pickin'] time [in the fall], pieces of cotton, litter the roadsides so much sometimes that it looks like snow.  Also, I can't tell you how many times I've sat in the car at a red light behind a cotton trailer that is on it's way from the fields to the cotton gin, just staring at the cotton wondering what it would be used for ~ clothing, blankets, etc.  Now, when I purchase something made of cotton, I wonder if someone like me had been staring at the cotton trailer at a red light wondering what it would become.

So, How Is Sugar Made, Anyway?
Another common event is the harvesting of sugar cane which involves burning the mature plants, which leaves the pure sugar.  Another byproduct of this process is black ash.  Black ash that swarms through the air like bees and lands on everything.  It gathers at doorsteps like leaves that fall to the ground.  Of course, these are our "leaves" because in a tropical climate the leaves don't change ~ they're always green.  Similar to leaves, though, someone has to clean them up, and that someone was me.  Every time I'm baking cookies and I'm measuring and pouring the sugar into the bowl, I wonder if someone like me had the unfortunate task of trying to sweep black ash from their doorstep.

I'm An Aggie, But I Like The Smell of Burnt Orange
In the small town that I'm from, there was a citrus canning and processing plant called Texsun Corporation. [This plant closed in 1991.]  Part of the processing of oranges into canned juice involves burning the oranges.  [What is it with the burning, anyway?]  While there is no ash released into the air from this process, there is a horrid smell that's like, well, burnt oranges.  A smell that to an outsider would be offensive, but there are times that I can almost smell the burnt oranges.  I can almost smell "home".  Crazy, I know, but a fact nonetheless.

Something's Wrong With It
For about six years, I lived almost in the middle of an orange orchard.  Because of our proximity to the oranges, the purchase of the house included "picking priveleges", meaning right before harvest, we could pick our own oranges, and we did.  My mom made fresh-squeezed orange juice every morning.  To this day, I love orange juice, but I've never been able to buy that fresh taste.  That was until my family and I last year had breakfast at L'Madeliene.  My son ordered a glass of orange juice, and after taking his first sip, he said there was "something" wrong with it.  So, I took a sip, and I and my taste buds were instantly transported back to that orange grove where we had lived.  That "something" was that it was fresh squeezed orange juice, and my son prefers the grocery store kind. [Ick.]

Maybe I Could Touch Heaven
One of my older sisters married a farmer, and she took me and my brother-in-law's younger sister out there at cotton pickin' time one year.  Though the cotton was and is mechanically picked, someone has to climb up the outside of the cotton trailer and pack the cotton down so that the maximum amount of cotton possible is in each trailer.  The packing consists of jumping on the cotton ~ no need for trampolines here!  It's one of those jobs that to a child, is a lot of fun, but to an adult, not so much.  I had fun that day jumping and laughing, but the best part of all was when the sun went down.  My brother-in-law's younger sister and I laid on top of all that cotton in one of the trailers [which in my opinion is more comfortable than a feather bed on any day of the week and twice on Sunday].  We gazed at the moon and the stars in that vast Texas sky, and I remember thinking that they were so very bright and so very close.  So close that it seemed as if I could reach up and snatch them from the sky, and take them home with me in my pocket.  So close that maybe, just maybe, I could touch Heaven.

Wordless Wednesday: Heritage Projects

The Kids' Heritage Projects
[First 2 designs are of my son's Heritage Project that we completed this past weekend, and the last 2 designs are of my daughter's Heritage Project from 2 years ago.  Both albums contain family trees; timelines of each child's life; family crests designed by each child; a poem entitled, "As I Am"; and U.S. & world maps with name & birthplace key for each person listed in family tree.]

Becoming Aware

Feeling Helpless
When it had become apparent that my mother-in-law, Linda Jo Pointer was beginning  to get sicker and sicker with breast cancer and that the chemo wasn't working [for the umpteenth time], we had a conversation that left me feeling so totally helpless [which is something that I don't like].  My son was just a baby and my daughter had just had her 2nd birthday.  While on the phone with her, I was watching my daughter play on the floor with her toys and my son was laying down on the floor on a blanket drooling and cooing.

I Won't Let Them Forget
We had a conversation that I really didn't want to have, but knew that it was necessary.  She said, "I'm not afraid to die.  I know that this 'beast' is going to get me."  ["Beast" was her nickname for breast cancer.]  She went on to say, "...the one thing that upsets me is that my grandkids won't remember me."  With tears in my eyes, I looked at her grandkids.  I then replied with false bravado [hoping that she couldn't "hear" me holding back my tears], "Don't worry.  I won't let them forget."  Several months later on October 28, 1999, Linda passed away, leaving her disease-ridden body for her eternal one that would know no pain and no tears.

Remembering...A Steel Magnolias Moment
Of course, I knew at the time what she meant.  She meant that they wouldn't have memories of her, and I knew that I wouldn't be able to control that [much to my chagrin].  However, my husband and I have tried our best over the years to bring grandma up at every moment possible.  We talk about her and how much she loved the color purple, and how much she loved angels.  We always say at birthdays and holidays how much grandma would've loved being here experiencing it with them.  Also, we have photos of her displayed throughout the house.

I shared on Mother's Day a short story about my daughter ~ my Steel Magnolia's moment:

One of my favorite all-time chick movies is "Steel Magnolias" because of the display of friendship and family. However, I think my favorite scene is towards the end when the mother, Sally Field's character, is crying after her daughter's funeral, then she gets angry and says she wants to hit something. This is the point [of course] when you can't stop the tears from falling from your eyes, and just when you think you can't take anymore, Olympia Dukakis' character grabs Shirley McLain's character and replies, "Here, hit her." And suddenly you're laughing through your tears...comic relief...a release...

This is my mother-in-law, Linda Jo. She was the single best mother-in-law in the whole world, and I don't have to meet any of the others to know this. She loved her family, friends, dogs, kids, people, anything purple, and angels. I don't know exactly how the whole angels thing started. She was a hairdresser, and I think it began when one of her clients gave her an angel. It caught on, and soon thereafter all she received were angels for gifts for every occasion.

Linda fought a valiant fight against breast cancer. Though her body is gone, her spirit is alive and doing well [thank you very much]. Her spirit is in her kids...in her grandkids...Soon after she died, my husband was cleaning out her condo while I was at home with the kids [my son was just 6 months old]. I was changing my son's diaper while my daughter was standing on the bed watching. My husband called and asked what he should do with all of his mom's clothes [she had a ton of them]. I suggested he donate them, and then we hung up, both of us with heavy hearts. My daughter [two and a half at the time] was silent for a little while then she asked, "Mom, is grandma naked in heaven?" Obviously she had overheard our conversation, and I couldn't let her have an image of her grandma naked in heaven...So I replied, "No. No, honey. Grandma is not naked in heaven. She's wearing a long flowing purple robe." My daughter jumped off the bed and ran off to play, relieved that grandma was not naked in heaven. Aahhh...my own "Steel Magnolias" moment!

My kids may not technically "remember" grandma, but they do know her ~ it's the best that my husband and I could do.

Some Things Are Better Left In History
October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month.  Do something this month to become aware or to make others aware of breast cancer.  In the top right-hand corner of my blog is a "button".  Everytime it's clicked, a donation is made by a sponsor for a woman who can't afford a mammogram, and your cost?  A click.  That's it.  If you have a blog, a "button" for your blog can be found on their site: TheBreastCancerSite.com.  Make people aware.  Also, if you're on Twitter or Facebook, breast cancer awareness Twibbons can be found here: Twibbon.com.

Let's make breast cancer a part of history and not a part of family history!


Credits:
The "Grandma" design was made by Caroline Pointer.  The angel was drawn by Linda's granddaughter.

It's In The Bag

How Did They Do That?
While researching, it always amazes me when I read how our ancestors traveled, especially by horseback or by foot.  They traveled so far ~ sometimes under the worst of conditions.  How did they do that?

"Honey, I'll Be Right Back"
When I was researching about the beginnings of Texas this was exactly what I was thinking.  Stephen F. Austin, the "Father of Texas" had to clear-up some "details" concerning his father's Spanish land grant that he had inherited.  From what I read, he jumped on his horse and rode from his land in what is now Fort Bend County, Texas all the way to Mexico City.  Now, I've never been to Mexico City, but I have traveled some in Mexico.  I know where Mexico City is and, more importantly, I know how far away it is.  I was born and raised on the Texas-Mexico border in an area know as the Rio Grande Valley.  Even from there Mexico City is considered far away.  So, it boggles my mind [which doesn't take much] that he traveled to Mexico City on horseback from just southwest from Houston, Texas, which is a little over 1000 miles.  That's far on horseback.  How did he do that?





View The Monterrey Trip in a larger map

That Reminds Me...
That reminded me of a family story [of course].  One Easter my Gran [my mom's mom] was planning to visit us, and my dad [famous for taking the road less traveled] came up with this brilliant idea to drive to Monterrey, Mexico with Gran and spend Easter there.  He figured Gran, being Catholic and all, would really enjoy celebrating Easter mass at the Monterrey Cathedral [Catedral Metropolitano de Nuestra Senora de Monterrey].  So we all piled into Dad's suburban [Mom, Dad, Gran, my sister, my sister's son, and myself].  It took about 20 minutes to get to the border.  We were going to cross at the bridge between Hidalgo, Texas and Reynosa, Mexico.  I remember it taking "forever" at customs and the seating wasn't very comfortable.  Remember those old seats at airports?  You know, the ones with chrome and black vinyl, and they're all connected?  That's what they were, but instead of black vinyl, they were red.  [It's funny what we remember from when we were younger, isn't it?]

"Are We There Yet?"
Finally we were done at customs and we all piled back into the Suburban for the drive to Monterrey.  Now, driving in Mexico is a little different than driving in the United States.  Basically, it's every man for himself and all the signs are in Spanish.  The car that is the biggest and has the most dents always go first.  Why? Because they're bigger and they have nothing to lose.  [Comforting, huh?]  The road to Monterrey from Reynosa is a "straight shot," for the most part.  However, the scenery leaves something to be desired.  [It has a certain je ne sais quois...]  The area that you drive through is pretty desolate ~ almost desert-like, and there aren't any places to stop along the way [at least back then].  Not a good thing with 4 "chicks" in the car.  I remember being really thirsty, and asking my dad for something to drink.  He said, "No problem.  There's drinks in the cooler."  I opened the cooler only to discover that whomever had packed the cooler, had only packed it with Diet Coke [which I hated at the time].  So, I had to "tough it out" the whole way to Monterrey, and all I could think about was how thirsty I was.  [Isn't that how it always goes?]  Needless to say [but I will anyway], my dad heard "Are we there yet?" quite a bit...









Shopping ~ What Else With 4 Chicks?
We finally arrived in Monterrey and surprisingly I didn't die of thirst.  We actually had a pretty good time there.  We shopped, toured the city, shopped, rode in horse-drawn carriages, shopped, went hunting for landmarks [a favorite of my dad's], shopped, attended Easter Mass at the Monterrey Cathedral [which incidentally is spoken all in Spanish ~ just in case you were wondering], shopped, ate bunches of brunches [all of which were buffet], and, oh yeah, we shopped.

Let's Get Oriented
Just south of Monterrey is  the Sierra Madre Oriental Mountain Range.  To the west is the Cerro de las Mitras, or the Mountain of the Mitres, so named because the mountain is in the shape of the profile of several bishops with mitres on [the head-dress of the bishops].  To the east is my favorite mountain in this area, and it's called the Cerro de la Silla, or Saddle Mountain, which you can probably guess is in the shape of ~ a saddle.

So, Why the Geography Lesson?
Well, my dad must've really loved those mountains because if there was a road going up the mountain, then we were going up the mountain.  In fact, he managed to get us all up a mountain several times during our stay in Monterrey.  Do you realize how disturbing this is to the stomach that is trying to digest the food from yet another huge buffet that the owner of said stomach has just consumed?  I'll tell ya', it's very disturbing.  Especially so, if owner of said stomach is lying down in the back of the Suburban on the third seat.

We Kept Going Down, Down, Down...
That was just where I was the last morning of our stay in Monterrey.  We had just finished a huuuuge buffet for brunch, which for me, consisted of steak [because, hey, that's kinda cool to have steak for brunch] and ceviche [which is raw fish served with lemon juice, tomatoes, onions, cilantro, and peppers].  So, as my stomach began to digest everything I ate, my dad started up yet another mountain.  None of us were very excited about it [except for dad, that is].  We really just wanted to go home.  As I was laying on that third seat watching the trees go by, my stomach began to not feel so well.  I started to think that maybe [just maybe] the steak and ceviche hadn't been such a good idea for brunch.  When dad finally got his "fill" of the mountain and we started down , there was a premature collective sigh of relief from all of us.  Then dad got this brilliant idea to do some more driving around.  Well, we ended up in this valley [just not the Valley where our home was] driving down a dirt road.  He continued along even when the road ran out ~ we just kept bouncing down, down, and down into the valley [my ears were popping].  This "excursion" was not helping my stomach "issue", and I had the beginnings of a headache.  So, I sat up and said, "I think I'm car sick."  Now, let me just pause for a moment, and say that I may have done just a wee bit of complaining throughout this trip, and my dad's patience was runnin' a little "thin".  [Plus, don't forget that he's on a trip with his mother-in-law.  Of course, that was of his own making...]

It's All In Your Head
In response, my dad looked at me in the rear view mirror and said, "It's all in your head."  I looked at my sister who was sitting directly in front of me.  I must've looked a little green [or more likely, she was worried about her precarious position in front of me] because she hurriedly emptied and gave me a plastic bag that was from one of our shopping excursions ~ which was just in time.  After my personal "conversation" with the plastic shopping bag, I said, "Dad-" and he replied, "What?"  Holding up the bag, I told him, "It's not in my head anymore.  It's in the bag."  [...you should've seen the look on his face ~ priceless.]



Somehow, I don't think I would've fared very well, back in the day, traveling such long distances by horseback.  However, they probably weren't eating steak and ceviche for brunch either.  It just fascinates me how far they went with so little.  How did they do that?

Credits:
The "Mexico" and "It's In The Bag" designs were created by the author.
"Plaza de Hidalgo" design was made with a postcard of Plaza de Hidalgo owned by the author.