"Aaaaah, Shyuuuddup!"

Claudius Roy Truitt


Claude Roy Truitt was my Boo's [Alice's] husband [my Gran's dad].  I know of not one single family story of good ol' Claude that's been handed down.  Zilch.  Nothing.  Well, my mom did tell me "he was a jerk."  Her words, not mine.  Yikes!  How would you like to be remembered like that by one of your grandchildren?  I know that that thought gives me great pause, and I don't even have grandchildren yet [and won't for a very long time].

Of course, I've done a lil' work on his family story because if he is remembered as a "jerk," then his story has got to be good, right?  [This is how my warped mind works...]


Well, Claude [who went by his inititals, C.R., which makes me wonder, did he not like his name?], was born 12 Aug 1875 as Claudius Roy Truitt in Paducah, McCracken County, Kentucky to LeRoy W. and Magdalen A. (McGee) Truitt.  He is now buried in the section Bethany, once known as the Garden of Gethsemane, in Forest Park Lawndale Cemetery in Houston, Texas.


I find it interesting this pattern that I have found in my mom's maternal line.  They are all Catholic, and after (apparently) marrying "jerks", they've all divorced them  [except for my parents, of course].  Then, no one talks about the big "D" word, but indeed, they did get divorced.  In fact, these women never remarried, and these "jerks" all remarried, including good ol' Claude/Claudius/C.R.  What's so "funny" about him though is that he remarried someone with the same name as his first wife, Alice.  This is not the first time I've seen this occur in my research, but it does get me to thinking. [Uh-oh.]  What were they thinking?  Did they think this was some kind of do-over, or something?  To top it off this second Alice, who outlived him, is not buried near him.  I find that interesting.  Did she think he was a jerk, too?  Well, one thing is for sure, he couldn't call her by the wrong name.  You know, if he ever said something like, "One of these days, Alice, one of these days, Pow, right in the kisser."  The question is, though, did she tell him, "aaaah, shyuuuddup"?







Video courtesy of northbreed1 on YouTube.

Family Stories of Celebrities

WDYTYA


NBC's Who Do You Think Your Are is scheduled to begin March 5th.  Watch this awesome preview of some of the celebrities that will be discovering their family stories:






Can't wait!

Happy As A Pig In Mud

"Oh Look..."
Have you ever inherited or acquired a hobby from someone else?  I really hadn't until now.  My husband and I were going through his memorabilia trunk in the garage, and he remarked, "Oh look.  My stamp collection that my dad gave me."  I looked down and saw all these loose stamps, and a stamp collecting book.  Then my husband remarked that there were more in the shoebox that he was holding in his hand.  Now let me just say that I've never wanted to collect coins and/or stamps.  I think they're neat, but I don't know.  I just never wanted to collect them.  However, my love for familial artifacts kicked in, and as I started fussing at my husband for keeping this collection so haphazzardly, I grabbed everything and took them in the house.

O.K.  I Get It Now
Now I see why people collect them.  This collection is pretty big.  I'm guestimating around 500 or so.  Some are attached to notebook paper.  Some are attached to their appropriate spots in the album, and there's a ton of them just loose.  Some of the loose ones are attached to a portion of the original envelopes.  Most are cancelled, but some are not.  Most are in pretty good condition otherwise.  I don't think a whole lot of them are worth a lot, but because of the size and variety of the collection, looking at them is like looking through a history book.  There are, of course, American ones as well as international ones.  Some of the countries that are represented don't even exist anymore.  Some of the international ones include, Tokyo, Honk Kong, Laos, Liberia, Czechoslovakia, Argentina, Iceland, Tunesia, Germany, India, Belgium, Australia, Great Britain, Guatemala, Turkey, Ireland, Italy, Yugoslavia, Monaco, The Netherlands, Norway, Nigeria, Congo, Togo, Phillipines, Poland, San Marino, Spain, South Africa, France, China, Canada, Bohemia, and Denmark.  Some of the outstanding American ones are those that commemorate parts of American History.

Who Knew?
So now I have a new hobby.  Stamp collecting.  [Who knew?]  Now I need to read up on proper stamp archiving and identify and organize all the loose stamps.  Also now I have something else to look for in the antique shops.  I guess I could just keep the collection and not add to it, but there are quite a few empty spots in the book.  They're kind of calling out to me.  You know, like a challenge.  Like I didn't have anything else to do. [rolling eyes heavenward]   Also, when you think about it,  each one of the stamps has a story about its origins.  Not only that, but there was someone who bought each stamp, affixed it to an envelope, and sent it to someone else.  What were their stories?  I'll never know, but the best thing about it all is I now have a grand resource for images to compliment my family stories, which makes me about as happy as a pig in mud.

Here's a peek at the collection:

An Ode To Family

Oftentimes I'm asked,

Why I've made finding

my family a task.

So here below

My 'Ode to Family"

To you I bestow.

I have a 2nd great-grandfather

With whom I bother.

A bugler, a fifer, or a drummer

In the Civil War, which one was he?

I often wonder if he ever played the

'Yankee Doodle Dandy'.

And when he looked into the eyes

O' the young Irish lass,

I wonder if he told her

'Tis her beauty that could not be surpassed.

One more thing 'bout them I'd like to ask;

How long did it take for her to get him

to the altar for Catholic mass?

Then, so her courageous story won't get

Stuck in a drawer;

My great Aunt Anne I study more & more.

All about driving that ambulance in France

During the second World War;

I'd be honored to write her memoir.

Am I truly a daughter of the American Revolution;

A fifth great-granddaughter of a Patriot of this great nation?

I'd also like to close the book on the lives

Who were so violently taken;

So their memory will never be forsaken.

Arrgh! A pirate lurks way back there;

I often wonder, "Did he stand tall on his corsair?"

And let's not forget the history of transportation.

A Chief Messenger of the railway, and

A teamster from Michigan.

Then my grandfather the bean counter

Who quite a bit ago

Once worked for an oil company in Tampico.

Also the man who I would've loved to meet

Face-to-face;

Who definitely led me on a wild goose chase.

My Dad's dad who was so tight-lipped;

No matter, he was well worth the trip.

There is also my great-grandfather

Who came from Prussia on Christmas Day;

Who disembarked from his ship

To view the beautiful Galveston Bay.

Then there were those who were bawdy

After being given a toddy.

And yet still those who were a bit frisky

After a bit o' Irish Whiskey.

Those who acted bravely,

And those who acted cowardly.

There were those who were feisty, flirty & flowery;

And those who came with a helluva dowry.

Give me my ancestors who were considered tawdry;

Especially those who had a lot of jewelry.

How 'bout those whose plans went awry;

Who just simply wanted to sit down and cry?

Or the one who dared to defy;

Or maybe the one who dared not

Because she was too shy?

I have found none who left home

To marry a carny;

But I've come across a few that spoke

A lo' o' blarney.

There was the one I've heard

Who ran 'round like a banshee;

'Course, she was the sis of the

One who had a bat in the belfry.

Those who stretched the truth vastly;

And those who were downright ghastly.

Some could be considered

A "little miss goodie two shoes"

Yet there were others who

Hated to lose.

Some were quite girly;

While others were a bit burly.

Not all were part of the gentry;

The others came from the country.

There were those whose eyes were beady;

And some who were quite greedy.

Others with nose in the air

Were quite haughty;

Those who didn't care

Were especially naughty.

Some were liars;

And some were criers.

A few were klutzy;

But even more were gutsy.

Some were tall;

And some were small.

I even have a third great-grandma

Who supposedly was an herbal cure-all.

Then there were those who were grumpy;

And those who were seen as a bit frumpy.

"Heavens to Betsy!"

I'd be remiss;

If I didn't mention those

In absolute bliss.

There were those who were known

As "One Hot Mama";

However, I've yet to find one

Who owned a llama.

'Tis very true;

They are quite the motley crew.

But, Oh! How they sit there

In All their glory;

How could I not tell

Their Family Story?

[This poem, and I use the word loosely, was written for the 89th Carnival of Genealogy entitled, "Ode to My Family's History".  The beautiful banner was designed by the talented footnoteMaven.]

All Or Nothing

What are little girls made of?

Sugar and spice,

And everything nice,

That's what little girls are made of.

~Unknown

"Whoa."

While looking through the Bethany section, once called the Garden of Gethsemani, in Forest Park Lawndale Cemetery in Houston, Texas yesterday for my great-grandfather, Claude Roy Truitt, I [surprise, surprise] found a tombstone. Actually I found a bunch of them. However, this particular tombstone caught my attention because it was located under a big Oak tree whose roots were pushing the tombstone up and out of the ground. I quickly read it to see if it was my great-grandfather's. It read, "Mary Ellen Riley, Pennsylvania, Nurse Army Nurse Corps..." "Nope," I thought, "definitely not him, " and continued onward to the next tombstone. Then I thought, "Whoa," and retraced my steps all the while mentally doing a family story happy dance. Why? Because, silly, it would've been kinda crazy to actually do a happy dance in the cemetery. Right? Right?

With Valentine's Day around the corner, I thought I'd share two women's stories with you. Two family stories full of "heart." [What do you mean you didn't know that Valentine's Day was around the corner? Have you been to any store since Christmas? How could you have missed St. Valentine? He's everywhere.]

With All My Heart

Ancient Greeks and Egyptians believed all emotion came from the heart. After all, when someone is happy, excited, etc., the heart rate increases. Makes sense. However, with modern day advances, we now know that the heart is told by the brain to speed up or slow down based on how the brain interprets certain stimuli. Although this may be true, it still hasn't stopped poets, writers, and songwriters from lamenting broken hearts, praising courageous hearts, describing hearts bursting with love, and the like.

The heart is a cardiac muscle that pumps blood throughout the body. Unlike other muscles, the heart is considered an "all or nothing" muscle, meaning when it contracts, it does so at full force, or not at all. Here are some common facts about this fascinating muscle:

• The heart beats approximately 100,000 times per day;
• The heart pumps 2000 gallons of blood per day;
• The heart pumps nearly 5 quarts of blood through the body every 60 seconds;
• The human heart ways less than a pound;
• For humans, the normal pulse is 70 heartbeats per minute;
• In an average lifetime, a heart pumps about 1 million barrels of blood [enough to fill 3 super tankers];
• A woman's heart beats faster than a man's heart; and
• During a 70-year lifetime, the heart beats about 3 billion times.

Mary Ellen (Coleman) Riley [Yes, another "Mary" ~ *rolling eyes heavenward*]

Mary Ellen Coleman was born to Peter Coleman [an Irish immigrant] and Anne Brown [a British immigrant of Irish descent] 31 Oct 1886 in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania and was one of twelve children. While her younger brother, Vincent Leo Coleman, filled out his World War I Registration Draft Card on 5 Jun 1917, Mary Ellen had already set her sights on doing what she could for the Great War's effort.

The Army Nurse Corps was a non-commissioned group of female nurses, and along with other medical personnel [both male and female], they performed their duties courageously both on the homefront and overseas. The United States government, and most especially, the War Department was not exactly thrilled to allow women in the military. However, it became a "numbers game." They didn't have enough soldiers for combat so they relented. The Army never did officially make these nurses a part of the military until World War II, but the United States Navy did make their nurses official in World War I mostly due to some ambiguous language in their rules. [Hard to believe, I know. An ambiguous beauracracy?]

The United States didn't enter World War I until April 1917, but the United States had already been sending nurses to various places around the world, as well as them going on their own where needed. After entering the war, the first groups of Army Nurse Corp nurses were sent to England then on to France to aid the British Expeditionary Forces [BEF] at the end of April and at the beginning of May in 1917. These ladies set up camp before American soldiers ever arrived there.

Since Mary Ellen's passport [digital copy obtained from Ancestry.com] wasn't issued until August of 1917, she probably wasn't sent over until October of 1917 to serve with the American Expeditionary Forces [AEF] in France. This would've given her base [general] hospital time to get organized, to practice working together, and to acclimate to the idea of being away from family. All of this occurring on [according to her passport] Ellis Island in New York with orders for her base (general) hospital unit #21 [organized by the Red Cross] to be ready to set sail for England and France with the Army Nurse Corps.

Not many of these nurses saw combat, but they certainly saw the effects of combat in their field hospitals, mobile units, etc. Most certainly, they dealt with bullet wounds, shrapnel wounds, and the horrific effects of mustard gas. More often than not, I would imagine, offering comfort to a dying soldier. The nurses, themselves, dealt with exposure to mustard gas. Some of them even dying from it. In addition, these nurses also dealt with the great flu epidemic in 1918-1919, giving up many lives to it.

Mary Ellen lived with her parents in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania in 1920, but then I found her in 1930 living with a slew of women in Manhattan, New York, all of them nurses. According to her death certificate that I found on FamilySearch.org Record Search, when Mary Ellen died in 1954 in Harris County, Texas of heart failure, she had been a widow, obviously marrying a man with the surname "Riley". The informant on her death certificate was "Blanche Coleman" [possibly a niece?]. I'm not sure whether she had any children or not. However, I am sure that even though I've only "known" Mary Ellen (Coleman) Riley for less than 24 hours and have only done some preliminary research on her, I am quite "wowed" by her story. I can't imagine what courage it took to follow her heart, to become a nurse, to become a part of the Army Nurse Corps, and to be a nurse in France during World War I. She defied all social conventions of her time for women, and did it all for a country that didn't allow women to vote until 1920.

Anne Josephine (Truitt) Etie [No, she wasn't a "Mary," but her sister was...]

Mary Ellen (Coleman) Riley and women like her paved the way for women in the military by the time World War II rolled around. She paved the way for my Gran's sister, Anne Josephine (Truitt) Etie. My Aunt Anne [part of my long line of managing women that I descend from] was a nurse in the United States Navy in World War II. She was one of the very few women who drove an ambulance in France during the war. I cannot fathom the horrors she saw, nor can I fathom the courage she had to risk "life and limb" driving an ambulance in France while trying to save the lives and limbs of soldiers.

The last time I saw my Aunt Anne [actually my Great Aunt Anne, but we just called her Aunt Anne...], she was in a nursing home with her older sister, my Gran, in San Antonio, Texas. She passed away at the age of 85 in 1995 from heart-related causes, and she and her husband, Roney Joseph Etie, are buried in Houston National Cemetery. Whether on purpose or not, she and Joseph never had any children. Because of this, her story is left in the hands of her sister's and brother's descendants.

It's hard for me to reconcile in my head the image of that little old lady in the nursing home talking and laughing with her older sister with all that I've read about what she did for her country in World War II. Like Mary Ellen, Aunt Anne "bucked the system". She, too, defied the social conventions for women of her time by courageously following her heart.

Because of Aunt Anne's story, I've done a little reading on women in the military of both World Wars, which is why Mary Ellen (Coleman) Riley's tombstone caught my attention. While reading about these women, I had thought to myself, "Wow. Wouldn't it be amazing to 'know' one of these women who served in World War I like my Aunt Anne served in World War II?" Yes, it's a bit greedy of me, I know. There are a few books about these wonderfully courageous women, but at the time, I didn't think I'd be running across one in my research. Boy [or maybe I should say "Girl"], I thought wrong.

All Or Nothing

These women of World War I and World War II displayed incredible courage when they did for their country what their country wasn't ready for them to do, but it certainly needed them to do it. At the end, one could certainly say Mary Ellen's and Aunt Anne's hearts physically gave out with the advancement of their ages.

But maybe there's some truth, after all, to what the ancients thought about the human heart and to what poets, writers, and songwriters have written about the human heart throughout the ages. For the courage of these women, like their hearts, was all or nothing.

Courage, sacrifice, determination, 

    commitment, toughness, heart, talent, guts. 

That's what little girls are made of;

The hell with sugar and spice.

~Unknown

[ http://home.att.net/~quotations/courage.html ]

Spud?!?

Fish Have Ancestry Too
Last week I talked about the "Operation Seek & Dispose" mission that I had to perform for my son. [You know, his 4 dead fish.  What do you mean you didn't read that post?  How could you not?  It was quite fishy...]  Well, the following mission, "Operation Return & Replace" was successful.  [Thank God.]  I purchased my son a red Siamese Fighting Fish, otherwise known as a Betta.  As a sidenote, why are they named Siamese?  I looked it up for you because I knew you'd be curious about this just as I was.  [Just nod your head in agreement]  Well, according to this article I read [here], the ancestors of the modern day Betta were from Thailand, which was once a part of Siam.  Their habitat consisted of dirty puddles in the rice paddies.  They would jump from puddle to puddle looking for I-don't-know-what.  A muddier puddle?  A cleaner puddle?  A smaller one?  A bigger one?  I don't know, but could you imagine these beautiful fish ~red, blue, blue-green~ jumping from dirty puddle to dirty puddle?  Yeah, me neither.  They weren't as pretty as today's fish ~less colorful and smaller fins.  But they didn't need to be pretty because they were bred to fight [for bravery not death], and this made these ancestors of the modern day Betta hearty, which, of course [finally], brings me to the reason I bought this fish for my son.  This fish is hearty.  I explained all this to my son on our way home, and then I asked him what he was going to name him.  He replied,  "Spud."  I asked him why, and he said, "You know, like the potato."  That's it.  That was the whole explanation. [rolling eyes heavenward ~ ooookay]

Did Your Ancestors Have A Sense of Humor?

Because of my dad's love of animals and that pet shop he bought my mom [Yeah, you should've read the fishy post.],   I learned a lot about them, and I have a few more stories ~ family stories, that is, about them.   And that's what they really are, aren't they?  Family stories?  I know our pets that we have now are a part of our family, and are at times, a part of a few stories if not the butt of a few jokes, too.  [Just like the rest of the family members.]  And that whole "Bettas have ancestors, too" explanation above reminded me that our ancestors, had pets too.  Pets that were a part of their family.  Ones that were part of some of their family stories, and I'm sure were the butt of a few jokes, too.  [Cuz, I don't know about you, but I like to believe that my ancestors told a few jokes.  Maybe a few inappropriate ones, too.  I mean, where did my sense of humor come from, right?  Don't answer that.]

Do You Know Your Pedigree?  Millie Does.
Well, one day when I was talking to my father-in-law about the whole "our ancestors had pets too theory," he mentioned casually that his grandmother, Pearl, had a dog named, "Brownie."  [Screeeech. Stop the presses.  Now, let me just pause and say that I have a "thing" for Pearl.  This is my favorite photo of her on the right. Sigh.]  The beautiful Pearl had a dog named, "Brownie."  That's it.  I don't know anymore.  And that's cool.  [Of course, it'd be nice to know a story or two involving Brownie, and maybe a photo would be nice.  Greedy much?]  Oh well, just to know that she had a pet ~ a dog named Brownie ~ is good enough.  Why?  Because I've had enough pets to know that they have stories, and, indeed, they make us laugh with their antics.  Sometimes, though, it's how they look that will make you smile.  Proof of this is in the puddin'.  Below is my Pug, "Millie."  Actually her official registered name is "Whitney's Pugnacious Pride."  [Millie knows her pedigree.  Do you know yours?]  Isn't she the most beautiful pup you've ever laid your eyes on? [Quit snickering.]:

A Loyal Friend
So, I guess the whole point of all this is to remind you that your ancestors, too, had pets.  That, amongst all the "facts" ~the birth, marriage, and death dates~ some of your ancestors had a dog that licked their face at the end of a long and arduous day.  They had a cat who jumped on their lap and who purred and "made bread" on their arm.  A pet, a friend, a family member who was loyal and put a smile on their face.  A pet that they named a descriptive term, like "Brownie" because they were brown [and maybe your ancestor had a thing for chocolate?].  Maybe your ancestors gave them an odd nickname, much like they gave their human family members [and I think this is very true when I'm researching and I come across an odd name that makes me think, "What the..."] .  Maybe they named them, "Spud."  You know, like the potato.

Your Turn
So, did your ancestors have any pets?  Do you have photos and/or stories of them?  Do tell...in the comments section...

Shades - Resolved in 2010

Shades - Resolved in 2010
January's Shades the Magazine is an issue with resolve packed full of beautiful old photos.  Not only for the genealogist or family historian, January's Shades appeals to the those interested in family, photographs, and scrapbooking.  If you're like me, and like to look at the pics in magazines, you're in for a special treat.  

Looking to take your digital magazine with you wherever you go?  Shades can even be downloaded in PDF format.  With my new cutie patootie red netbook that I got from Santa, this will come in so handy.  Just imagine: Shades in the car line at school, Shades at the car wash, Shades at the bookstore, Shades at the coffee shop, and Shades at basketball practice.  I can have Shades wherever I want to read it, and I don't even need Wi-Fi because it's on my netbook in PDF format.  That, FS Gang, is beast!  [My 12 year old daughter swears that "beast" is the new "cool."  Hence, I'm using it.  I mean, I definitely want to be cool.  I mean beast. ;) ]

Oh, I almost forgot.  I have a column in Shades, called IN2Genealogy.  I'd tell you all about it, but then, that'd be double the work for me.  So, go check it out.  There's gonna be a quiz later.  

I'm just kidding.  

There won't be a quiz later.  

Maybe an essay test, but definitely not a quiz.  ;)

Operation Return and Replace

How Do You Know?
All four were dead.  All helplessly, hopelessly dead.  No doubt about it.  Two were on the bottom upside down, and two were floating in the water upside down.  With the only sound being the gentle whirring of the air pump, these four fish had met their maker after only 2 hours after my son purchased them.  He was upset, to say the least, and I felt so bad for him.  However, I tried to explain to him that this happens all the time, and with just a hint of doubt he replied, "How do you know?"

You Don't Have Anything To Do
"How do I know?"  Ha!  Well, he kind of already knew the answer, but let me back up and tell you the beginning of this story.  [You knew a story was coming, right?]  When I was about nine years old, my dad purchased a pet shop in the small town in Texas that I'm from, and gave it to my mom.  Now, you're probably wondering why he'd do this.  Well, everyone else was wondering why he did this too including my mom.  Dumbfounded, my mom asked him why, he answered, "Well, now that Caroline is in school all the time, I noticed you needed something to do.  So, I bought you a pet shop."  Yes he, indeed, said those very words.  I was there, and I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't been.  You know those big exaggerated dramatic pauses that everyone's always talking about?  Yeah, insert one here.  Can you believe the audacity of my dad?  Obviously, he hadn't run through this whole scenario in his head before saying it because if he had, he surely would've realized what an asenine reply that was.  "She didn't have anything to do?"  Oh boy, did he really screw that one up.  To top it off, my mom was never the "animal sort."  We'd always had a few pets, but she always made it clear that we had to take care of them.  What was mom going to do with a pet shop and a temporarily insane husband?

 What's Better Than Having Some Pets?
The pet shop came with snakes, birds, hermit crabs,  the largest selection of tropical fish in the area, and a 16-year old part-time girl who had been working there for a while.  Well, not one to back down from a challenge, my mother first sold all the snakes.  She hates snakes.  At the zoo, she won't even go into the snake house.  She was willing to give them away just to get rid of them, but she sold them cheap and threw-in all the supplies for free.  Then she employed me at the age of nine  [my second job in all my nine years].  I was in "kid heaven."  I walked there everyday from school with anticipation.  I mean, what's better than having some pets?  Your mom owning the pet store.  That's what.  I soon found out though that more "pets" meant more work. 

Remember When Stores Closed on Sundays?
The pet shop  ~named Pisces Pet Shop~ was open Monday -Friday from 10am - 5pm,  Saturday's it was open until 6pm, and was closed on Sunday's back when everyone was closed on Sunday's.  However, the animals must eat everyday, so we were there on Sunday to feed and clean.  A typical morning with birds included replacing the newspaper, the water with vitamins, the food [after blowing the chaff off], and making sure that each cage had a salt lick, a mineral attachment for sharpening beaks, and a sufficient supply of gravel.  [Huh?]  Small caged birds have a salt deficiency and they need gravel to keep in their craw to help digest food.  That whole "not having any teeth thing" can be a bummer sometimes. [You learn something new everyday, right?]  Not counting the annoying finches [a small bird], there were probably about 50 birds in all ~ parakeets, cockatiels, Love Birds, doves, and several different species of parrots.  Can you imagine the racket and the mess that they made?

Operation Seek & Dispose
After the birds came the fish.  There were, like, over 100 10-gallon tanks full of every species of tropical fish you could think of [and some snails, newts, and fresh plants], and 1 150-gallon tank that contained our huge Oscars.  Not only because of their name, which reminded me of a certain donkey, the Oscars were cool especially at feeding time.  In addition, to some packaged food, they ate those little cheap orange fish called Comets.  I always saved the Oscar's feeding time for last.  Call me gross, but there is just something about one bigger animal eating a live, smaller animal that is fascinating, especially to a nine year-old.  We also had these Siamese Fighting Fish, also called Betas.  They're unique because a male cannot live with another male, nor is it best that it live with any other fish.  Obviously, at some time or another, it must live with a female, but you usually see them in small glass bowls or jars all by themselves.  Why?  Because they like to fight...to their death.  Looking back, I can't believe I never put 2 together to test the theory.  Oh well.  As for feeding all the other fish, that was rather simple.  On both sides of the store, we had 2 rows [one up and one down] of aquariums running the length of the store.  I would open all the lids at one time, and then with fish food flakes in hand, simply walk the length of the store twice on each side and drop the flakes.  Then I would inspect each tank for two things: ick [which is a common fish illness], and dead fish ["Operation Seek & Dispose"].  I simply scooped the dead fish out and threw them away.  Yes, there were dead fish every day.  That's what happens to fish.  They live.  They eat.  They reproduce.  Then they die.  It's that whole "circle of life" thing.  For some fish it's shorter than others for any number of reasons.  Needless to say, I learned a whole lot about life from taking care of those fish.

Gorgeous 2 Bedroom Cozy, Unique Cottage For Sale
The hermit crabs were pretty simple: fresh food, fresh water, and  extra shells of varying sizes for when they outgrow their current shell.  Just between you and me, you have not lived until you have seen a hermit crab "move-in" to it's new shell ~ totally cool.

Who Really Had "The Thing" For Animals?
Eventually we added hamsters, gerbils, Macaws, other various parrots, canaries, rabbits, and whatever else my dad and I could talk my mom into.  You see, my dad didn't buy that dang pet shop for my mom.  He was the one with "the thing" for animals.  Even though he had a degree in Animal Husbandry [now Animal Science], I hadn't realized this until recently when looking through a bunch of old photos of his.  I don't have enough fingers and toes to count how many photos there are of my dad and various pets of his when he was growing up.  It was an "Ah-hah" moment for me.  Also, I've mentioned before that my dad's mom, my Paw Paw, raised and showed Siamese Cats, and there's a ton of photos of her and her prize-winning cats as well as ones of just the cats. It also explains all those Sunday bird-watching trips to the bird sanctuary while I was growing up.  Yes, we would spend the whole day finding and looking at birds.  [The things our parents make us do.]  And as for my mom, she "ran the shop" and the part-timer and I took care of and sold the animals.  Well, at least she had something to do now...on top of taking care of the home and all, that is.

RIP: They Lived.  They Ate.  They Reproduced.  They Died
Though I have more animal family stories to tell, the whole point of me telling you all this was to demonstrate that I do have a body of knowledge concerning fish.  I told my son to not worry ~ that this happens, that it wasn't his fault.  And then I explained to him my fish-feeding routine that I had everyday which included the special "Operation Seek & Dispose."  I told him I'd return them for him, and get some new ones.  He replied, " I don't want anymore fish if they're just going to die."  I gently explained to him that he can't live his life like that.  Besides the tank is set-up and the pump is whirring.  So last night, I revisited "Operation Seek & Dispose".  Now the 4 "deceased" are in a red Solo plastic cup leftover from the holidays which is inside a ziploc bag all sitting on my kitchen counter waiting to be returned.  Mission today: "Operation Return & Replace," which won't be the last time, I know.