With Both My Hearts

Chinese Food and Yellow Roses
In the middle of my sophomore year in high school my dad bought my mom a house for her birthday.  [Yes, a real house.]  He surprised her with the key to the house, and we celebrated with take-out Chinese food at the built-in kitchen table in our new house.  My dad had also given my mom what he always gave her on special occasions: 2 dozen yellow roses.  As we were eating, I was looking at the beautiful roses, and I also read the card.  It read: "To Carolyn, I love you with both my hearts.  Love, Joe."  For the life of me I couldn't figure out what that meant so I asked them.  My dad explained that when they met and were first married, they used to play a game.  Mom would say she loved him, and he'd say I love you more.  They'd go back and forth with each one proclaiming the depth of their love for each other.  Dad would always end it with, "I have 2 hearts so I love you the most."  [Definite Aaahh moment for us women...]



Mom's Rose Bushes
My mom loves roses.  In fact, my dad would always give her rose bushes [he gave me one, too] as gifts [sometimes for "just because"].  We had quite a rose bush garden, but when we moved we had to leave them behind.  About year ago [for some odd reason] I got to thinking about those rose bushes and my mom's rose garden, and, at the time, I wished that I had had a picture of it [again, for some odd reason].  When looking for the picture of Oscar the Donkey just the other day, I found a Polaroid picture of mom's rose garden [that from the looks of it, needs a little cleaning]!  After my "family picture happy dance", I'd thought it'd be perfect to share this story of my parents with you today.



Happy 54th Anniversary!
Today is the 54th Anniversary of my parents' wedding, though dad is no longer with us.  So, I thought I'd share some pictures of their life together.  Also, I have a message that I can't give my mom in person [because I think it would be too upsetting for her].  Mom, I wish you and dad a happy anniversary, and I know that dad loves you with both his hearts!









Caroline

What's in A Name?: Oscar

Who/What Do You Think of When 
You Hear the Name, "Oscar?"



For some of you, you might conjure up the illustrious...

Then others might think of the messy...

I, on the other hand, have another totally different picture.  Remember when I told you about interviewing my Gran when I was a senior in high school?  Well, after the story she told me about war rations and hard times, my mom volunteered some very interesting [and unknown to me before this time] news that my mom and dad had had a hog farm.  I was surprised and a little upset that I hadn't known before about this, and I told her so.  I asked her why I hadn't known about this farm, and she replied, "Where else did you think we kept Oscar?"  She had a point.  You see, I had heard many times about Oscar...the donkey.  [Yeah, you heard right - a donkey.]  The story goes that Oscar the donkey was the beloved pet of my 2 older siblings and my parents after my dad graduated from Texas A&M University [with a degree in animal husbandry, now more aptly named animal science].  Because they didn't have air conditioning, they would sleep with the windows open every night.  However, Oscar the donkey did not understand why he couldn't come in the house.  [When I said he was their pet, I meant it!]  So, every night, feeling the rejection of the family, and possibly thinking that they may have forgotten him once again, Oscar the donkey would stick his head through the screen in the window above the head of my parents' bed and would announce his presence with a loving "bray."  [I mean, how could they forget him, right?] 

Every time I heard this story as a little girl, I would always ask for a donkey.  Secretly though, I didn't want just a donkey.  I wanted NEEDED Oscar the donkey.  In my "Oscar the donkey obsession", I'm sure in each retelling of the story that I conveniently tuned-out the part about the hog farm [which is a funny story in and of itself for another time].  Of course, my dreams of Oscar the donkey didn't include the feeding and cleaning and mucking and whatever else there is in taking care of a donkey [not to mention all the other farm animals...]. I was just thinking of all the love I could give him.

To this day, I still think it'd be cool to have Oscar the donkey, but alas, I don't live on a farm, and I'm pretty sure that Oscar the donkey is "braying" in much greener and heavenly pastures.  However, the other day when I was going through pictures to find suitable ones to use for my Father's Day post, I found a picture of [you guessed it] Oscar the donkey...





The lucky kids on him are my older brother Joe and my sister Susan.  While I can't have Oscar, I have a picture of him!  [I hope he knows, though, I would've let him in the house, or rather, the farmhouse...]

Caroline

Martians, Marshmallows, and Genealogy...

Paw Paw

This is my Paw Paw [my grandmother on my dad's side]. These are some of my favorite pictures of her because they are so expressive. The picture in the center I think is very fitting for Mother's Day, as this was taken with her children [my dad and aunt]. Rettie Maye was born in Southern Illinois in 1913 and was the daughter of Lillie Mae Alley and the grandaughter of Catharine Caroline Vaughn [both also of Southern Illinois]

Stop Calling Me a Martian!

Growing up I always hated my middle name, Martin. When you're a kid, you don't want to be different and my name was definitely not the norm - 2 surnames or a man's name for a middle name [definitely not cool]. I was the object of a lot of teasing and name-calling when other kids found out my middle name. The most popular names were martian and marshmallow. The second nickname making fun of my last name, Marshall [cuz hey, why not?], and sometimes there was that kid in the crowd that put them together: Martian Marshmallow [ha-ha. Very funny]. No worries, though, I'm made of sterner stuff than that, and although I'd like to say that I took the high road and ignored them, I can't. I gave as good as I got...[after all, what would you expect from a bossy, oops, I mean managing woman/girl?

Mom, Why Did You Give Me the Middle Name, Martin?

I just never understood why my mom gave me the name, and I never thought to ask until much later in life. So, why did she give me the middle name, Martin? She said that I was named after Paw Paw's maiden name, and that Paw Paw and I [at the time I asked] were the only one's left in her father's line to carry on the name, and she went on to explain that my Paw Paw's brother and all of his kids died in a house fire [arson: a story for another day]...

Oh. [sigh] Now I've got to say that since that day, I've been so very proud to be named after her...My Paw Paw died in 2003 and now I'm left to carry on the Martin name. Happy Mother's Day, Paw Paw!

[So, does anyone else have any childhood nicknames that they hated, or how about a family story behind a maternal name in your family? Share it in comments, if you want...]

Caroline

Secrets, Part 5

I'm running out of new and different Galveston pictures that don't have a bunch of peeps in them so this story has to end soon! [Besides, I have an appointment with a guy about some islands that I want...] So, did the Storm of 1900 leave Nettie, Joseph, and Mary orphans?...Nope, it didn't. Remember how in my ignorance I didn't check for any other Marschall's in the 1910 census? If I had, I would've found them. Also, I was able to find a digital copy of the Galveston Commissioners Report of the status of the farms and the farm families after the storm at the Rosenberg Library in their manuscript department. [Oh yeah...] It had good info including their temporary address after the storm, and 2 of their nearby neighbors were the Rosin's and the Cobb's.

I located the Marschall family's death certificates [other than Joseph's, but I did have my grandfather's]; the birth certificates of all the children's children, the men's World War I Registration Cards, and San Antonio land transactions for John Jr. and Otto Rosin [along with my grandfather's]. Below I've listed a summary of each family member to hopefully make things a little easier to understand. [The birth and death certificates were found @ Clayton Genealogical Library [located on Caroline St.], but the death certs can be found now on FamilySearch and Footnote as well.]

John Marschall, Sr.,  Father

After the Storm of 1900, John, Sr. and Emma never lived together again. In 1910, he lived with his daughter, Jane and her husband Otto Rosin in San Antonio at which time Otto was a dairy farmer [maybe John Sr. helped him with that].  In 1920 he lived alone until he passed away in 1928 while living in Hitchcock, Texas [which is on the mainland, but still in Galveston County].  No matter where he lived, he always listed his occupation as a farmer even though he never owned one again after the storm.  He now lays at rest in an unmarked grave in Lakeview Cemetery on Galveston Island.  I did find his Naturalization Certificate as well as a passport application that he filed...wonderful clues left...he was from Posen, Prussia, and his father was...John Marschall, [of course].

Emma Schleicher Marschall, Mother

In 1910, his wife Emma lived with their son John Jr, and his family.  She continued to live on Galveston Island where she passed away in 1927 and is now buried next to her husband in Lakeview Cemetery on the island.  Her last residence was on 31st St near the Strand where the parking lot now is of the Bank of America building [a pity, though, because the nearby homes are Victorian beauties...].  Her parents were Herman and Betty Schleicher of Germany, and Emma was born in New Braunfels, Tx.

John Marschall, Jr. and Josephine Ballou

John, Jr. married Josephine Ballou and was born, lived and died on Galveston Island [he was what we call an "Islander" here]. In 1910, Emma [John's mother] lived with them. They lived in various homes throughout Galveston, and one of the homes [pic on the right] located on 25th St is now an art gallery, Galveston Gallery [not sure of its status after hurricane Ike, though].  John Jr.'s occupations were [in order] farmer [while growing up], fisherman, dairyman, realtor - which actually represents some of the industry trends at the time in this part of Texas.  John and Josephine in 1928 bought land from a Joseph Marshall of San Antonio and immediately mortgaged it plus 26 shares of stock to pay $350 to an Oveta Marshall to get a judgement released against a Joseph Marshall of San Antonio as per a divorce decree.  In 1932 they sold this same land to an Otto Rosin of San Antonio.  John and Josephine had only 1 child, John Raymond, Sr.

Jane Marschall and Otto Rosin

Jane Marschall married an Otto Rosin of Germany, who had been the son of Wilhelm and Caroline Rosin also of Germany.  [Remember the neighboring Rosin farm on the island?...his mother, in my opinion, had a way cool name...]  Otto's 3 youngest siblings were born on Galveston Island - including an Emma Rosin.  Otto's occupations?  Farmer, dairy man, propietor of a house moving business in San Antonio, and was in real estate in San Antonio.  Many Islanders moved from Galveston to "higher ground" after the storm, and at the time San Antonio was experiencing a "boom" and was growing rapidly.  Some of Jane's and Otto's children were born in Galveston and some in San Antonio.  In 1910, Emma Rosin was living with them along with Jane's father John, Sr.  in San Antonio.  Otto and Jane always lived in the area of San Antonio that's south of Interstate-10 and east of Interstate-35 [bottom right corner of San Antonio & near downtown].  And as mentioned before he bought land in San Antonio from John and Josephine in 1932.

Antonetta "Nettie" Marschall and Nicholas Pericles "Pete" Legatos
Nettie [baptized Antonetta] Marschall married, of course, Nicholas Pericles "Pete" Legatos [later changed to Legate].  Pete had been a son of a Greek immigrant and fisherman.  Until Pete's death, they had always lived on Galveston Island and had fished for a living.  After the Storm of 1900, Joseph and Mary lived with them and their family.  Nettie passed away while in Rusk State Hospital [mental insitution] in Cherokee, Texas under mysterious circumstances.


Laura Ellen "Ella" Marschall and Miles Breen; Thomas Cobb
Laura Ellen "Ella" Marschall married a Miles Breen and together with their children lived on the island.  After Miles passed away, Laura Ellen married a Thomas Cobb. [Remember the Cobb farm near the Marschall farm?]  She had 1 son with Thomas.  I found her name as "Ella" on several documents.

Roman/Rolland Marschall

Roman/Rolland Marschall [name found spelled both ways]  died young in 1922 on Galveston Island from a massive heart attack.  In 1910 he'd been the only boarder with a family whose next door neighbors were Breen's.  He's buried in an unmarked grave in Lakeview Cemetery on the island.



Mary Marschall and Harry Esperson
Mary Marschall married a Harry Esperson who'd been a...dairyman and the son of an Aussie & New Yorker.  He and Mary moved to San Antonio and bought a home [but not from Otto or Joseph].  Five months later, Harry died due to complications of Diabetes.  Then 2 months after that Mary became septic from strep throat and passed away childless.  Otto Rosin, her brother-in-law, was the informant on her death certificate.  She and Harry were transferred back to Galveston and were buried there.



...And Joseph?...stay tuned for the rest of the story & secrets...[the end, I promise, is next]

Caroline

Secrets, Part 4 or What's Pete "the Greek Fisherman's" Full Name?

O.K., I haven't taken over the Caroline or Marshall Islands yet [by virtue of their names alone, they should already be mine].  I've been trying to finish this family story of mine, which is taking a lot longer than I thought it would.  You thought so, too?  Be patient...I promise there's an end worth waiting for [at least I hope you think it's worth waiting for].  You have to remember that all this stuff didn't happen overnight, and we certainly aren't going to solve it overnight, either.  [Plus, I'd make your head hurt if I talked about everything in one post...]

So, where were we?  Oh yes, on a farm on Galveston Island in 1900 with a Nettie, Joseph, & Mary Marschall.  [Do you think they could hear the waves while working on their farm?  Just a thought...]  So, were these the same siblings I found in 1910 all in the same household with Nettie's husband, Pete "the Greek Fisherman" Legatos?  At this point, I'm pretty certain they are.  The info given in the 1910 census and the 1900 census for these 3 sibs match exactly [ages, birth, parents' birth, etc.], and there aren't any others living on Galveston Island with the last name Marshall or Marschall with their first names...so I'm leaning towards the fact that these are the same people.  [The true test would be more info...isn't that always the truth?]  Anyway, I mentioned in my last post that they were living with the rest of their family...want to take a guess what their father's name was and where he was born?...You got it!  John Marschall was their father and he was born, according to this census, in Germany.  To make it simpler, here's a quick rundown of this family in the 1900 census:

1.  John Marschall;  Head of Household; born Jun 1857 in Germany; 43yo; married 21 yrs; immigrated 1879; in U.S. 21 yrs; occupation: farmer; and parents born in Germany.
2.  Emma Marschall; wife; born Feb 1857 in Texas; 43yo; married 21 yrs; 7 of 9 children still living; and parents born in Germany.

Children:
3.  John b. Oct 1881 in Tx; 18yo
4.  Jane b. Jul 1884 in Tx; 15yo
5.  Nettie b. Jan 1886 in Tx; 14yo
6.  Saveria E. b.May 1890 in Tx; 10yo
7.  Roman b. Oct 1891 in Tx; 8yo
8.  Joseph b. Jun 1893 in Tx; 7yo
9.  Mare[y?] b. Nov 1895 in Tx 5yo
[and a boarder, William E. Ritz, a schoolteacher - may or may not be related]

This is becoming like a soup that you just keep adding ingredients to...Here are a couple of things that I wanted to point out though - putting aside, for a moment the surname spelling difference...Some food for thought [hey, we're cooking, aren't we?]:  1. This Joseph's birthday is Jun 1893, the same month and one of the target years [1893/95/96] of my grandfather's birth month and year that I'm looking for; 2.  My grandmother indicated on my grandfather's death certificate that his father was John Marshall.  Could it be the same one? [No other John-Joseph relationship can be found in this time period with the surname spelled either way.]  3. This candidate for Mary is spelled Mare, but the birth year and age match the 1910 census, probably could be chalked up to a spelling error; 4. The father's birthplace here in 1900 is Germany - not Poland/Prussia/Texas, which have all been mentioned before for the father of Joseph...so which is it?

I already addressed the 1920 reporting of Texas as the birthplace of Joseph's father.  The listing could be wrong due to clerical error, etc, or this might not be the same Joseph.  As far as the Polish/Prussian/German issue?  Well, I had a  simple & quick look-see at Prussian/Polish/German history [Do you hear me laughing?  I'm laughing because it was neither simple nor quick...Wow! What a history...].  I determined that with the course of history changing due to wars and such, oftentimes immigrants would obviously hear news of what was going on in their homeland and would refer to it in the context of whatever country it was under rule at the time.  In other words, if say , for example, Prussia took over Poland then Poland was given back to the Polish, then immigrants from there would refer to their homeland first as Poland then Prussia then Poland depending on who ruled what, when [I hope that makes sense...]  So, this gives a probable reason for the discrepancy, and if it's true then it might help to pinpoint where John Marschall came from someday [if indeed, he's Joseph's father and this Joseph is my grandfather, of course...]

So, I decided to visit my local genealogical department at Montgomery County Memorial Library in Conroe, Texas.  Not huge, but it's packed with lots of local info.  After looking through all [& I do mean all] the books for Galveston County [O.K., it took me several trips...], I found some "Marschall's" listed in the index of a book entitled, "St. Joseph's Catholic Church, Galveston, Texas, baptismal, confirmation, marriage, and death records : 1860-1952."  Could these be mine, or, at least, the ones I was looking for?  I quickly looked them up and...Bingo!  All the children's births and baptisms were listed as well as witnesses and of course, their parents.  [There weren't any confirmations, marriages, or deaths listed, but, hey I'm not going to be too picky...]  This was indeed the same family.  But was this my family? [...and why does "Catholic" ring a bell...?]

There were some discrepancies [...of course!].  A few names were cleared up:  Saveria E. from the 1900 census was actually Laura Ellen [either transcription or language error] & Mare from the 1900 census was baptized as Mary.  There was an additional child listed, Robert, but remember that Emma, their mother, listed in the 1900 census that only 7 of her 9 children were still living?  This was probably 1 of the 2 that didn't make it. [The other one may not have been baptized before it's death.]  Last, but certainly not least, Joseph's birth was listed as 17 Jun 1890 and his baptism as "Jun...1893".  However, it's highly unlikely that he was born in 1890 because his sister Laura Ellen was born 12 May 1890.  I could be wrong though...[What is it with his birth, anyway?]

I decided to play "What if..." [When puzzled, why not play a game?]  What if...this was the correct family [there were no others that I had found that fit the bill, so to speak...]?  What if...this Joseph Marschall was my grandfather?  If so, what happened to the rest of the family between 1900 and 1910?  Why were Joseph and Mary living with their older sister Nettie...?  Then, it hit me - no pun intended - the Storm of 1900.  You know, the devastating hurricane that hit Galveston Island in 1900 and killed so many?  I quickly "Googled" the storm looking for the exact date...it was 8 Sep 1900.  Then I quickly looked at the date this family was counted in the 1900 census: June 1900.  So, the storm had come after the census was taken for this household...Were Nettie, Joseph, and Mary the only survivors in the family?  I quickly located a list of fatalities and looked for the Marschall name spelled either way, and they weren't listed [just one Harriet Marshall].  Of course, there were only about 6000 of the 8000-12,000 people that actually passed away from the storm on there because they weren't able to find and/or identify them all.  So, they could've passed away and not been recorded at all...I felt sad about the possibilty of this, whether it was "my" family, or not,  because they were someone's family...Did the Storm of 1900 leave Nettie, Joseph, and Mary orphans?...And, were these orphans mine?  [If you're interested, at the bottom of my blog in my book carousel I have featured a book that is about Galveston, Texas; the Storm of 1900; and the reconstruction and fortification of the island...]

Caroline

Secrets, Part 2

[This is part 2 of a multi-part post entitled, "Secrets." For better clarity, please read part 1 - but you don't have to...]

As I mentioned before, according to my dad, my grandfather didn't speak much about his past. As a result, he left behind a family ignorant of its origins. Also according to my father and other relatives, my grandfather was cantankerous. The impression that I got at a young age was that he was a grumpy and contrary man, and this impression stuck, preventing me from discovering just where my grandfather came from and who he actually was.  With age comes clarity, though, and it became important to me to find him and his family...my family.  This was my first attempt at research years ago, so it's clumsy and I've come a long way since then, but I learned quite a few things along the way even though I "jumped" around and had to backtrack many times.

Unfortunately, my father only knew the following information about my grandfather: his name, Joseph Marshall; born 17 Jun 1896 and raised in Galveston, Texas & died in 1968 in San Antonio, Texas; was a fisherman in Galveston; and was thought to have been excommunicated from the Catholic Church, which was a vague recollection at best. [I don't know about you, but that last one set my imagination in overdrive!]

There was another clue [and what I think of as a treasure] that I stumbled upon before beginning my search. Right after my father passed away, I was going through a box of his things and in it I discovered an old jewelry box, and amongst the pennies, nuts, screws, and broken watches, I found the actual "jewel". It was a discolored military medal of some kind. After reading and Googling, I identified it here as a Victory Medal from WWI. The only person on my dad's side who I could think of who could've earned this was my grandfather. A jump in logic?...yes. It could've been anyone's, and I didn't know who had given it to my dad. Definitely a puzzle piece to put to the side and see where it fits, if at all, in the big picture.  My grandfather's picture that I presented in the 1st post of this series shows my grandfather in a military uniform.  The uniform has a high collar with only the top button and a what looked like a pin on the collar on one side.  To my untrained eye, the pin looked like it had a design in the shape of grapes [it was a little blurry]...So, off to Google again...I located a WWI uniform company that sells reproductions, AEF Supply.  The pictures of the uniforms looked very similar to my grandfather's uniform and there I also found a picture of a WWI Medical Enlisted Man Collar Disk that looked just like the "design of grapes" on my grandfather's pin.  There were no other collar pins that had a similar design.  Later on after acquiring more information, I sent off for his military records and found out that he was in the U.S. Army as a Private from 22 Jul 1918 to 10 Feb 1919.  He was in the 29th Company, 3rd Group, 165th Depot Brigade with place of entry as San Antonio and place of separation as Camp Travis, Texas.  It indicated he received a WWI Victory Bronze Button and Victory Medal.  Bingo...the medal I found in my dad's jewelry box - more than likely - was my grandfather's.  It's amazing to me how our history..our family story...is just sitting there around waiting for us to find it.

Though I unravelled the military picture and medal secret, there were some more mysteries here to solve. I love a challenge...The place I started looking was where my grandfather passed away, San Antonio, Texas.  I located a microfilmed copy of my grandfather's death certificate at Clayton Genealogical Library in Houston, Texas [one of my favorite places].  My grandmother was the informant and gave the following information: 1.) WWI Vet (yes!); 2.) father was John Marshall; 3.) born 17 Jun 1895, Galveston, Tx; and 4.) Proprietor of house moving and wrecking business.  Additional info was that he died 29 Jul 1968 at the age of 73 of heart related causes; and was buried 1 Aug 1968 in Mission Burial Park in San Antonio, Texas.

This info provided some more insight to my grandfather.  First, it provided the exact date of his death.  It also indicated that he was born in 1895 - not 1896, like my dad thought [something to keep in mind].  In addition, it indicated that he was a WWI vet.  Which lent more supporting evidence to what I had already found.  Another great piece of info was his father's name.  If correct, this could definitely be helpful for identifying him in his earlier years.  Also, his listed occupation coincided with what my father had told me of what he knew about what my grandfather did for a living.  You'd think it be time to pack our bags, so to speak, here in San Antonio and head on to Galveston, right?...Wrong.

But I'm not quite done in San Antonio, yet.  One day messing around on the Bexar County Clerk's office website, [what, you don't do that for fun?] I found that Bexar County's land info is available on an online database.  So, as "a shot in the dark", I entered my grandfather's name.  Oh boy, jackpot!  He had numerous, nay a bevy, of land transactions.  So many, that even to this day I have not read each one.  [Yes, not only does Bexar County have a database of their historical land transactions, but digital copies are available online...free.  As my Gran & mom used to say, "God lov'em!"]  I found transactions also that my grandmother and my dad executed as well for my grandfather's business. Definitely what I needed to verify that this was indeed my grandfather.  I did skim the listing of my grandfather's transcations, including all the name variations and misspellings, and found no other obvious familial relationships, but then I didn't have any other names to compare to...Two more things I found online [just messin' around] in San Antonio for a Joseph Marshall were 2 curious "hits" on the name in 2  issues of the San Antonio Express News.  Joseph Marshall was listed as the landscaper in an ad for the 1st high rise built in San Antonio in the Laurel Heights area.  Also, there was a picture of the biggest rose bush grown by a Joseph Marshall in 1922.  Were these my grandfather?  I don't know...not enough info.  There were also a variety of classified ads involving house/land purchases and sales over the many years.  Also, what I knew of my grandfather was that his business dealt with buying, wrecking, building, and selling buildings, homes and land - not anything to do with plants or landscaping...

The last thing that I needed to check in San Antonio [that I figured at the time] was census records.  In a check in the 1930 Federal Population Census in San Antonio I couldn't find him [utilizing all variations of names, etc.].  He should've showed up there according to family knowledge of his whereabouts and according to his land transactions that started in San Antonio in about 1928 and went through to his death in 1968 [with some transactions after that by his estate].  Plus, his place of entry in 1918 in the Army was San Antonio, Texas.  However, I just couldn't find him.  I searched then the 1920 census in San Antonio, hoping for some info.  I found 2 Joseph Marshall's: one that was clearly not him, and one maybe.  However, the "maybe" was kind of puzzling because this Joseph Marshall was not married to my grandmother.  He was married to a woman by the name of Emma who was the same age as he [27], and by occupation was a tree surgeon.  His parents were listed as being born in Texas and Emma's parents born in Germany.  It was totally possible that my grandfather hadn't made it from Galveston to San Antonio yet in 1920.  So, maybe it wasn't him, but it could've been, yet I needed more info.  Who was this Joseph Marshall?  Another quick trip to Clayton Library in Houston awarded me with a microfilmed copy of a marriage record between a Joseph Marshall and Emma Rosin in 1917 in San Antonio, Texas.  Hmmm...not any info to figure out who this Joseph was and also another name to keep track of in my notes. 

The other subject of interest was my grandmother.  Sometimes in our heads we still think and look at our loved ones with our "child-like eyes."  What I mean is that I never knew my grandfather, and , to me, my grandmother had always been, well, old [and I mean that in the most respectful way].  Of course, my grandparents were the about the same age, right?  Wrong.  When I looked at all the info -together- mathematically and logically things started to look a little differently.  My grandmother was born in 1913 [yes, 1913], and my grandfather, remember,  was born in 1895/1896...He was old enough to have been married before.  [Note to self: looking at people within the context of their relationships saves time in research.  Makes sense, people don't usually live their lives completely isolated.]

Oh well...now it's time to pack our bags and head off to Galveston...yah, a vacation [or at least a working vacation...on a beach].  By the way, I also looked up what a "tree surgeon" was and according to thefreedictionary.com it is "n. a specialist in treating damaged trees" [which makes sense, in retrospect]. 

In my love for genealogy, I sometimes go on and on [hard to believe, right?].  My husband who has a short attention span for all things genealogical is always saying, "Just give me the bottom line, Genea-geek!" [lovingly, of course].  So, here's the bottom line:

1. My grandfather, Joseph Marshall was born 17 Jun 1895 or 1896 in Galveston, Texas
2. He died of heart related causes on 29 Jul 1968 and was buried 1 Aug 1968 @ Mission Burial Park in San Antonio, Tx.
3. He was a medic in the U.S. Army during WWI 22 Jul 1918 to  10 Feb 1919 and was awarded the Victory Medal.  Plus, I have a pic of him in uniform and have what I think is his medal. [Why do I always sit up a little straighter each time I find an ancestor of mine that was in the military?]
4. His business included buying, wrecking/moving, building, renting, & selling houses and land, of which I have his voluminous paper trail. [Oh yeah...]
5.  If accurately reported , his father's name was John Marshall [upside: have name - downside: it's John].  Who was his father? [and mother, family, etc.]
6.  According to dad my grandfather "fished" in Galveston...whatever that means...
7.  Oh and let's not forget, the supposed vague recollection that my grandfather had been excommunicated from the Catholic Church.  What gets a Catholic kicked out of the Church, anyway?
8.  My grandfather was 17-18 years older than my grandmother - definitely old enough to have been married before. [food for thought]...Was he married to an Emma in 1920?

9. Did my grandfather grow rose bushes, or had he been a landscaper?  Either way, was there a connection to Joseph Marshall, the tree surgeon, and was he "my" Joseph Marshall?
10. Why is the sky blue, the grass green, etc.?

Are your bags packed for Galveston Island?  Don't forget the sunscreen as we track down my grandfather who had some secrets [like, a family] on Galveston Island that he never shared with anyone...What happened to his family...my family?

Caroline

Secrets, Part I: They Were Just Farmers...

A couple of months ago at my son's basketball practice, I was sorting through some information that I'd found on an ever-elusive ancestor who may or may not be a connection to a pirate [a story for another time]. One of the other mom's asked me if I was a teacher. [I get that a lot. I guess I look like I'm grading papers...] I explained to her my passion for all things genealogical and my business plans. She remarked that my possible relation to a pirate was exciting. She went on to say that she wished she was related to someone as exciting as "my pirate". She also said they [meaning her family] didn't know a whole lot about their ancestors, but they did know, though, "they were just farmers", and she inferred they probably wouldn't be worth looking up.

"...they were just farmers?...not worth looking up?" [Definitely "challenge" phrases for any genealogist.]

I thought about what she'd said a long while afterwards. As other mothers [or fathers] know and as my blog profile indicates, we tend to wear many "hats". My husband is always giving me a hard time because I'm bad at conversation with people I've just met. [My husband is great at it, so we're a perfect match.] I'm a stay-at-home mom and when I meet someone, I don't ever think to ask, "So, what do you do for a living?" I just don't think in those terms. I personally don't want to be limited by just 1 or 2 things. Individually, they don't define who I really am.

Likewise, I like to think about those who came before us as more than the occupation that's listed on whatever census that I've found them on. It does tell me that they worked to provide for their families and how they went about doing it, but it doesn't tell me what their favorite food was, whether they liked sunrises or sunsets better, or what their secrets were...They weren't "just farmers" [or any other occupation]. They were multi-faceted people who had dreams and hopes for the future...

Growing up my mom and dad always liked listening to Paul Harvey, and so did I. He was always able to bring a story to life, then leave you "hanging" through the commercials [impatiently, I might add]. Then he'd give you "the rest of the story". For me, the occupation of an ancestor is just part of the beginning of the story. You have to "dig" for the rest.

In high school, my dad wanted me to "find" our family tree. He explained that the grandfather that I never knew [his dad] had not spoken much [in fact, hardly at all] about his family. Additionally, my dad didn't have a very good relationship with my grandfather. The few things he did know were: my grandfather had been born and raised on Galveston Island, Texas and had fished there; what he did for a living after moving to San Antonio, Texas; his birth and death dates/places; and a vague impression that my grandfather had been excommunicated from the Catholic Church. I was 18 and didn't really have any inclination to find out about my grandfather because I never knew him, and from what my father had told me about him, he didn't sound like a very nice man. As time wears on, though, you start to wonder just where you came from...who you came from...

At the time, I didn't realize just what he'd been asking from me. He wasn't just asking about names, dates, and occupations. While these are important, they don't give you "the rest of the story." My dad had been asking for his family story...and my family story, too. My dad passed away 5 years ago last month. Though I am "a day late and a dollar short" for my dad, I'm not too late for my kids and the rest of my family.

So, what is the rest of my grandfather's story you ask? Well, it wouldn't be any fun if I told you everything now. As Paul Harvey used to say, "stay tuned for the rest of the story...". In the next few posts, I'll take you back in time and give you a glimpse of my grandfather who had secrets that involved love and betrayal; a natural disaster that almost completely destroyed his family as well as a whole community; and the influence of a Greek family. Now tell me, doesn't this sound better than "he was just a farmer?"

So, what's the rest of your family story? Are you satisfied with thinking of them as "just farmers"? Well, I'm not. Get your bags packed and join me as I look at the rest of my grandfather's story...and my family story, too...

Easter + Margaritas = Runaway Bunny?

One year at Easter [I must have been in middle school], my dad had decided to relax out on the deck.  We'd already been to church, and we had stuffed ourselves with ham, deviled eggs, and my mom's potato salad [which used to be my Gran's...is mine now...and one day will be my daughter's].

Well, dad had made some margaritas and was sipping on one while sitting in the hot tub on our deck in the backyard, relaxing.  All of a sudden, a huge bunny rabbit hopped across the yard.  [Yes, you heard right - a bunny rabbit on Easter, no less.]

My dad rubbed his eyes, opened them, and yup, it was a still there - a huge bunny rabbit, white with grey fur.  [I'm tellin' you, you couldn't make this stuff up.]  Anyway, he yelled out for someone to come and see it.  [Yeah, if I were him, I'd want a witness, too]  So, one of my older sisters and I went out there to see what the fuss was all about.

My sister and I looked, rubbed our eyes, looked again, and started laughing.  It was huge, and it looked like it was someone's pet.  My sister and I decided to catch it and return it to it's owner.  [Do you realize how hard it is to catch a runaway bunny?...Not fun.]

Well, Runaway Bunny led us on a merry chase through bushes that left scratches all over us, but we did prevail.  Luckily, we'd been right about him being someone's pet - he was tame.  What we would've done if he hadn't been, I don't know. [We were caught up in the moment.]  Dad, I think, was just glad that it was real and not the aftereffects of too many margaritas.

My sister and I went house to house, put up signs, and did everything we could to find Runaway Bunny's owner.  No luck.  After about a month, it became clear that Runaway Bunny was my new pet.  He was huge, ate a lot, and was very tame.  Basically, he was a big "sweetie pie".  Did I mention he was huge?  When he stretched out while relaxing, he was about 2 feet long, or so, with long ears and soft fur.

So, that was the year the Easter Bunny left me Runaway Bunny.  He has a funny sense of humor - that Easter Bunny.  Strange though, Dad never did drink margaritas in the hot tub again [at least not on major holidays].  Could you imagine?  [Santa, turkeys, cupid, ghosts, goblins, etc.]

So, have a Happy Easter, and may the Easter Bunny show you his sense of humor, too!

Caroline

Tombstone Tuesday: The Only One Left To Tell...

Growing up I loved to climb trees. In fact, my dad bought me my very own oak tree. It was rather big for one you'd buy and plant in your backyard, and it came ready-to-climb. Oh, and it was such a good climbing tree. It had a branch that was just low enough that if I jumped high enough, I could grasp it with both hands, "walk" the rest of my body up, and flip myself over onto the branch.

I used to run around barefoot all the time, and I got very good at hoisting myself up my tree. I used to climb the branches, going here and there. I never broke any branches, nor did I fall from my tree. [I did fall from others, but no broken bones.] I wonder, though, in my haste to explore yet another branch, if maybe I missed something - maybe the perfect view of the sun setting in the Texas sky, or maybe the most comfortable spot to sit and rest for awhile.

Well, I realized yesterday that I had done this very thing. No, I wasn't actually climbing a tree. [I haven't done that in, well, years.] I'm talking about my family tree. Remember when I talked about my "long line of managing women" yesterday and I mentioned my Aunt Anne [my Gran's sister] having driven an ambulance in WWII in France? I realized that, other than finding out who she married, I never explored her story. [I know...I know, shame on me.]

The first time I ever actually remember being around her was when my mom & I transferred her from a nursing home in Houston, Texas to one in San Antonio, Texas so that she could be with her older sister [my Gran]. I still remember watching them sitting together in the activity room - happy as 2 peas in a pod - finally together again.

I wish I had known then to ask about her story. It's funny what can happen to a piece of information that's been given to you. You "file" it away, then you find it again, only to find out you needed it sooner. I mean, I knew that she'd driven that ambulance in WWII. I just didn't realize how important it was. Then years later, I skipped right over her again in my haste to climb other branches.

I did do some brief research on women who drove ambulances during WWII, including overseas. Wow! What a story! [Thud...Thud...do you hear that? That's me kicking myself in the backside!]

My Aunt Anne passed away in 1995, twenty years after her husband [who also served in WWII], and they never had any children. No one to pass on their story. It's just been sitting there waiting patiently to be found...

Well, I don't have her firsthand account of what happened in France, but I sure wish I did. What was it like to be a woman in the U.S. Navy during WWII? What was it like to be one of the very few women driving an ambulance in France?...exciting?...scary?

So many women provided support services during WWII - from working in factories on the home front to serving abroad. Among all the hullabaloo, though, these women seem to be forgotten sometimes. I have more to study about my Aunt Anne in hopes of uncovering her story and sharing it, and I can't wait! Today my Aunt Anne is with her husband, amongst many other veterans, in Houston National Cemetery.

So, when climbing your family tree, don't forget to slow down and explore every branch, even the smaller ones. You never know whose story you might find...and you might be the only one to tell it. And to my Aunt Anne and all the women who served in WWII, thank you...you are not forgotten!

Caroline

Good Ol' Johnny

I liked Thomas MacEntee's idea of "Surname Saturday" @geneabloggers on Twitter so much that I decided to use it for my blog today [plus I didn't have to come up with my own theme - thanks Thomas!]

Now, I know this is supposed to be a list of surnames that I'm researching,...and I'll get to that...just as soon as I tell you a story. [You didn't really think that you'd get away without a story did ya'?...Ha!]

First, though, a little quiz: does anyone know what Johnny Appleseed's real name was? [Yeah, I know, a quiz AND a story - What can I say? It's 2 for 1 day]

When my son was in 2nd grade, he was asked to play Johnny Appleseed in a play because he read so well [proud mom]. Does everyone remember ol' Johnny Appleseed [ya' know, the guy with apple seeds who went everywhere with a pot on his head]? Well, because they were 2nd graders, they were going to read their parts instead of memorizing them [Hallelujah! Have you ever tried to get a 2nd grader to memorize a lot of lines for a school play?].

Well, everyone read their parts, sang their songs, drank their cider, and basically had a grand time. There's nothin' like seeing your 7 year old son wearin' a long beard and and a pot on his head! [Johnny's later years.]

Little did I know, at the time, that we actually had a connection to good ol' Johnny Appleseed [well, my husband and children do...sorta']. While researching the Hackett's on my husband's side, I found him [or, he found me - aren't those the best finds?].

In a biographical and regional sketch of Bloominggrove, Richland County, Ohio, Johnny Appleseed was purported to have gone through there at one time or another [note the preciseness of the account].

"Really?", you ask. A guy named Johnny Appleseed actually went through a town named Bloominggrove?...in a county named Richland?...in the great state of Ohio, no less? [Say it ain't so, Joe.]

I know, who'd a "thunk" it? [more Texas-speakl]

O.K., so we're not related to good ol' Johnny [at least, not that I've found], and maybe he didn't stay with "our" Hackett's there, but he is [again, purported] to have stayed with their neighbors [only hundreds of acres away - he did like to walk, so, who knows?].

Was it coincidence that my son played Johnny Appleseed in 2nd grade? [I dunno. This is a rhetorical question.]

Do you know what Johnny Appleseed's real name was? [This is not rhetorical. Drop me a line and your answer in a comment, please.]

So, speaking of elementary school, does anyone have a John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt in their family? [me neither...& apparently, no Appleseed's either - at least not of the name variety. I have plenty of fruits and nuts in my family tree, though...]

Note: Along with no animals being hurt in the writing of this blog, I do have appropriate documentation to substantiate my writing, and it's available for your perusal. [Just as soon as I track down my 2nd grade teacher and have her sign a statement in the presence of a witness and notary affirming that she did, indeed, tell me the story about good ol' Johnny...I think it was 2nd grade...or maybe it was 1st...hmmm...]

O.K., here's a few of the names that I'm researching:

Hackett [PA>OH>IA]
Casteel [TN>IL]
Marshall / Marschall [Posen Prussia>TX]
Blacketer [VA>KY>IN>IA>MO>TX
Truitt [VA>MD>DE>KY>TX]
O'Brien [IRL>LA>TX]
Martin [NC>TN>IL>TX]
Vaughn / Vaughan [VT>CAN>MI>TX]
Vaughn / Vaughan [NC>VA>TN>KY>IL]

Caroline

My Gran's Southern Hash

The term, "hard times" has been tossed around lately, and I don't think that everyone knows what it means exactly. I'm not talking about politics or the market, though. While those are important for the "why", I'm talking about the "how." How did it affect the everyday family?

Just what did it mean to the everyday family?

I can still remember interviewing my Gran (my grandmother on my mom's side) for my family tree project my senior year in high school. I remember asking her, "how was life 'way back then'?" [My interviewing prowess showing even then! lol] While my technique obviously needed work, I think, in this case, it may have have been the right approach. Her answer was so clear and simple, but powerful. She replied," Dear," [my Gran always started a story with "Dear,..."] "during the war, we would wait in line on 'meat' day with our ration books." [Huh?]

Since we were sitting at the dinner table with full tummies and my mom in the kitchen doing the dishes, her reply caught me offguard. As a friend of mine likes to say, "I just don't have a slot for that." I couldn't compute that statement.

She went on to explain about rationing books and not having enough meat to go around during World War II. They were allowed only so much meat [and other goods] per week per person. Could you imagine - in this day and age in America - standing in line with your neighbors every week with your ration coupon books clutched in your hands in order to receive your ration of food items for the week for your family? [And to think I complain about having to go to the store...]

I also now understand my Gran's recipe for Southern hash. You see, my husband & I disagree on what hash really is. He was born in Iowa, but got to Texas as fast as he could, and I am a Texan, born and raised. [Hey, y'all!] Whenever my Gran would visit, she'd make hash at the end of the week, which consisted of all [and I do mean all] the leftovers in the fridge and homemade biscuits. And everytime I make it for my family, my husband always says that it isn't really hash, but a stew concoction of sorts. He says that real hash is made with corned beef and potatoes and served for breakfast. [Well, my Gran's Gran was 100% Irish, and I know what corned beef is. It's what you eat with cabbage on St. Patty's Day] To be fair, though, I have had corned beef hash, and it makes a wonderful breakfast. O.K., so there's 2 types of hash: Southern and not-Southern [but my Gran's hash is the real one - at least for me...]

While I make Gran's Southern Hash for my family [and "stew" for my husband] out of nostalgia and comfort [and yes, sometimes out of laziness - I really hate going to the store], my Gran made it out of necessity in order to feed the mouths of 8 growing children. My Gran's story about "hard times" during World War II is similar to a lot of other people's stories who went through it.

They scraped.

They saved.

They made "do" with what they had.

They hunkered down. [Texas-speak]

They worked long and hard to put food on the table for their families.

That's their family story.

It's my Gran's family story.

And it's my family story, too...

Caroline