Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Wordless Wednesday


Just Stopped By

Well, the last few months have gone by fast and furious and I have had no time to stop in.  In April I turned 40 and for some odd reason, I decided it was time for me to go back to school.  So in June I did just that.  My classes have kept me very busy as I am taking 12 hours a semester, which happens to be considered full time.  WOW!  Next week is my last week until January, so I will be updating my blogs and stoping by to say hi.  So check in with me and have a cup of coffee!

HAPPY THANKSGIVING ALL!

In Honor of THANKSGIVING, I am posting a Wordless Wednesday photo of someone that Thanksgiving always reminds me of.  At this time on the day before she would be up baking pies from scratch and when she was done with her pie's she would take the left over dough and make me little pie crust twist and sprinkle sugar and cinnamon on them.  So to my Great-Grandmother Alma Clark.... I love you and wish you could be here to enjoy Thanksgiving!  Even though you are not here to share it with us, know that you are still Loved and Missed by all!

Friday, August 14, 2009

AMANDA ELIZABETH DUGAN CLARK-Updated


BORN: 22 March 1862
"Somewhere in Indiana"
DIED: 5 May 1949,
Sherman, Grayson, Texas
Parents:
Joseph Dugan
Born: 1840 in Indiana
Died: 3 Oct 1864 in Little Rock, Arkansas
Nancy Elizabeth Cron
28 Jan 1849, Nashville, TN

Married to: William Henry Clark in 1878 in Kansas

Children born to this union:

1. Henry L., 1880 - ?
2. Emma Elnora, 1881-1978
3. Alice Mae, 1883-1978
4. Sylvester, 1883-1897
5. William "Willie" Augusta, 1887-1974
6. Charlie L., 1889-1970
7. Mable, 1891-1987
8. Ida Isbelle, 1894-1982
9. Wilburn Cisney, 1895-1917
10. Ira E., 1898-1981
11. Cora Etta, 1900-1981
12. Alma Elizabeth, 1903-1978
13. Baby Boy Clark, 1906-1906


For years, I have understood that my Great-Grandmother was adopted, but recently I learned that I somehow had misunderstood. It was another grandmother instead. I recently was able to locate information regarding Amanda and her parents. Her father was Joseph Dugan who was born in 1840 somewhere in Indiana. He served in the Civil War uner the Command of Captin J. Pine in F. Company in the 28th Regiment of the Indiana Volunteer Calvery. During the Civil War he died in Arkansas on 3 October 1864 of disease as so many others had. Amanda was the only child that Joseph and Nancy had. Amanda's mother Nancy was born 28 Jan 1849 in Nashville Tennesse. After the loss of her husband she remarried Marcus L. Goodman and together they had 8 children.
Information collected from Census Records shows that Amanda and her family have lived in Fannin County,, Grayson County and Collin County, Texas along with Indiana, Kansas and Missouri.

Amanda, along with her husband and several children are buried at West Shady Grove Cemetary, behind the little country church in Collin County, TX. When Amanda passed away she was living at 424 W. Cherry St., in Sherman, TX with her daughter Cora.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Friendly Bloggers Award

First I want to say THANK YOU to Gini over at Ginisology for honoring me with this award. Let me say that I have really enjoyed the group of friends that I have found doing this and have been able to "open my eyes" to new ways of searching for information and facts due to the Genealogy Blogging World I discovered earlier this year.

Now for passing the torch: My 7 Nominee's are.....

1. Creative Gene because "they are the one's that got me started"
2. Shades of the Departed
3. Judith over at Tennessee Memories
4. 100 Years in America
5. Graveyard Rabbit
6. Alana over at A Twig in My Tree
7. Terri over at The Ties That Bind

PS. This is not an easy task to decide who get's this award.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

Down on the Farm

When I was a little girl my great-grandparents lived on a farm in Bells, TX
When my parents divorced my dad moved us into their home. My father was a fireman and he worked 24 hr shifts and then off 48 hr's. I had a little sister who was just an infant and not even a year old. Life on the farm was wonderful. Every morning I would help my grandfather feed the cattle and the other critters on the farm.


This weekend I had the pleasure of revisiting the "Old Farm". This is the "Original" barn that once housed the hay and critters from the elements of the East Texas weather and storms. It is also the "Core" of my existence. Every wonderful memory I have starts here and the person I am today is because of this place. Funny, now it seems so small and yet at that time in my life it was bigger than life. Being able to see it again brough wonderful memories flooding back. This is the place where I once let all my granfather's cows out and I got my first "whoopin" that I can honestly remember. At one time, a wheeping willow stood in our back yard. I honestly believe that my grandfather killed it using it on me at various times in life.... (never did I say I didn't deserve them).


Even though the exterior and interior of the house has been changed, the memories of my childhood still remain. I stopped to ask the current owners if I could take a few pictures and explained to them why. They gracioiusly offered to allow me into their home so that I could see what they had done to the inside. "Today we are so wrapped up in our lives we dont stop and take time to remember." Yet these two wonderful people let a complete stranger into their home and shared a little bit of life with me and for that hour they allowed gave me great pleasure. Even though the walls have been knocked down and rooms moved and remodeled, I still remember life as it once existed. This is the house that I learned to cook in! This is the house where I learned how to pray! This is the house where I learned the meaning of Family! This is the house that I learned what love is!
Even though it is only a bunch of grass and a few bare spots now. Once this large section of the yard to the right of the house was my great-grandmother's garden. Up against the fence stretched two rows of Grapevines, followed by rows of corn, raddishes, beets, potatoes, cuccumbers, tomatos, onions, squash, mustard greens, green beans, peas, okra and the last row was CABBAGE! Yet, another butt whoopin' I remeber getting. Every day, my grandmother and I would go out and help her pick veggies for dinner or lunch that day. One particular day, I decided I would go out and pick the cabbage for dinner that night. Only thing was, I picked two whole rows of it. Needless to say, that was not what she wanted. So my job was to return each and every head back to it's home before PaPa returned home in order for me not to be in trouble. I didn't get it done in time needless to say....

The owner and I shared stories about the farm and how it once was. While telling them about the garden he asked where it stood. They told me that when they moved in the grapevines still stood and they were able to get grapes for a couple years. However, a storm blew in one day and destroyed the vines. They removed the post and wire that streched the length of the yard and the bare spot where the post once stood still remains.

While the house has changed in appearance, the love and memories still remain. The garden is gone but the barn still stands.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

"MANESS FAMILY LIFE ON THE RED RIVER"

Orginal Story published in the Ryan Leader in Oklahoma. Unsure of date
Written by: Monroe J. Maness
Dad and Mom, James H. and Beartha Maness, were married at the courthouse in Waurika, OK on Septemember 15, 1931. The lived in the house with Grandma and Grandpa Maness (John and Lucy Maness) for about 6 months. At that time Grandpa and the family lived fifteen miles east of Ryan, OK. After six months Dad and Mom moved into a tent in the yard. Mom wanted to give birth to Francis in the tent but the grandparents would not allow this; Francis was born in the house. The tent blew away in a storm shortly after.
They built a one room shack in the yard when Francis Maness was just short of two years old. I (Monroe) was born in the new shack about a month after it was built. M. C. Maness was born in the same shack two years later. Dad and Mom were renting property from "Uncle" Joe Bounds and engaged in farming. When M.C. was three months old (Jan of 1937) Dad and Mom moved into "Grandpa" Jim Gardner's place down on Mudcreek. Grandpa and Grandma maness leased a farm nearby from Jim Fardner's brother Joe. We lived about one mile from our grandparents and Uncle Steve Maness lived in a little shack between us and our grandparents. This house is where my memory starts.
I remember the log house in which we lived. It was nice and had a wide hallway that ran through the middle from one end to the other. There was a big dog that wouldn't let people in the yard until Dad or Mom said it was okay. Tjhere was a dug well that had to be drawn dry because a snake or bird or something fell in it and drowned. I remember Dad plowing with a team of horses in the field next to the house. Juniour Maness (my cousin) was bit on the foot by a snake. We lived in a log house one year (according to Mom), then we moved into a small house NE of Ryan and Dad and Mom worked for a Mr. Houser. I dont' remember much about this place. Mom said it was a one room shck, and we lived there one year. I do not remember going to Waurika (nine miles) by horse and wagon; on all day trip.
The next place we lived, and where my sister Susie Fern was born in 1939, was always referred to as "the Corner". It was on the corner of a major dirt road and a side road about four miles east of Ryan and one-half mile east of the "Brown Chapel Store". Dad farmed and worked for the county road department and anything else he could get. We were right in the middle of the depression (a word I never heard until later in life). Times were hard but I never had a moment of insecurity; I thought that Dad and Mom had everything undercontrol. My Uncle Lonnie (Mom's Brother) came and helped with the farming while Dad was away working. When we harvested our first bail of cotton (then, I was too little to work) Dad let us boys ride to town to the cotton gin and bought us an ice cream cone. I think it was my first, anyway I surely did think it was neat that you could eat the ice cream and the container.
Reality set in when the bank foreclosed on the farm. Trucks came and hauled away all the horses and cows except three that had been given to my mom for milk by my grandpa Capehart. Mom was upset and crying but Dad did his best to comfort her and I figured that all would work out alright. Dad borrowed my Unle Steve Maness' team and wagon and moved the family one mile southwest onto Tobe Fullers Place. We lived on the Fuller place for tow years and according to Mom it was tough times. Frankly I did not know. I thought it was great. I went to the pond and caught crayfish with my big brother, went swimming in ponds,l and had a good time.
In 1941, Dad took a job on a cattle ranch owned by a doctyor Wade for six months. We lived in a nice house. I think Mom worried about Dad wrestling livestock and apparently the pay was not too good. The rance was out on the prairie and therefore there was no wood. I remember picking up "cow chips" (dried manure) to fuel the stove. We walked about a quarter mile from the road to catch the school bus. We walked along a fence line so that we could dash under the fence if any of the bulls were too close. I dont' know what the plan was if there were bulls on both sides of the fence. IT was my first year in school and WW II was under way. I was almost seven when I started school because you had to be six by the fifteenth of Septemember in order to begin first grade.
The next two years back at the Tobe Fuller Place were very eventful. I thought the world was wonderful; I had a big brother, two little brothers, dozens of cousins and a beautiful little sister. What more could one want? I thought the family was just perfect. Then my little sister died of pneumonia. What a tragedy! I can still see her laid out in a little coffin in the hallway. To this day I try to avoid funeral. One thing I am sure of is that my dad was partial to his daughter, but it seemed quite alright to me because I wa partical to my little sister as well.
Then my youngerst brother Bill DOn caught pneumonia and had an abscessed lung to complicate things. It was my first introduction to fear. The poor little guy came home from the hospital wiht a drainage tube in his side (they cut away a rib to make room for the tube). Someone said: "Well at least he won't ever have to go into the army," but I could not thing of anything positive about the situation. He did later serve in the army and raised a wondrful family and grew old and gray like the rest of us.
My brother M. C. had ear trouble. I don't know what it was but he was frequantly in sever pain. He took a hard working thing in stride and did verly little complaining. I always admired him, he was like Dad. He was a hard-working and kind-hearted fellow. He was killed on the job in an auto accident in Californina in 1961. I have always felt guilty that I didn't spend more time with him since we lived only eight miles apart.
There was, however, an up-side to these two years. In the early summer of 1943 (I know it was 1943 because that is the year my Uncle Jewel Caphart got married). Uncle Bert showed up at our house and wanted me to spend the summer helping him bail hay. I was eight years old and ready to take on a realy job, besided I had spent time with the Capehard before and I was anxious to have my teenage uncles continue with my education. We rode back to Grandpa Capehart's by horseback (about eleven miles) arriving late that night. We got up early the next morning and started work. My job in the beginning was to keep the horses powering the old team bailer by moving around in a constant steady circle. Later I learned how to run the buck rake and do other things as well. I had a wonderful time and was paid something as well ( I don't recall how much pay). Uncle Jewel got married that summer to the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. She also became on of my most favorite people. When I returned home that fall I was older, bigger, wiser, and in command of a great vocabulary (which motivated Mom to take immediate punitive measures).
In the fall of 1943 we moved to MudCreek (Claypool) about two miles from Grandpa and Grandma Maness onto the Burneet Ranch. Dad share cropped for Blackie Burnett, and worked away some, and sold firewood and fence post which he cut off of the rance giving Blackie half. Dad had bought a 1929 Dodge Truck from one of my uncles. He delivered wood to the Mudcreek store owned by Mr. Flether who dressed and looked like and old cowboy. I mentioned that to Dad and he said: "Well that's what he was till he got old." I waited for more of the story but that 's all Dad had to say. Later, I don't know why, Mr. Flethcer told me Dad was a "good hand" (cowboy), that he had rode with Dad, and that they drove cattle up the Chisolm Trail. I made mental not to ask Dad about this but I never did. I loved living at Claypool. We had relatives all around the country within walking distance. My grandpa and Grandma Capehart lived only three miles away. Then there were the Daltons a couple miles away(Uncle Charlie Dalton). Uncle Charlie and Aunt Tennie (Dad's Sister) had girls and Goldie became like my little sister. We were very close for many years. Although she now lives far away, we still are close. A lot of things happened at Claypool. My brother Weldon was born there. My Uncle Lonnie Capehart was killed in action on Novemeber 22, 1946 (two days after my 12th birthday) . I know that he had originally landed in France, but he was killed in Germany and that' about all I know.
Grandpa Maness (John Nie Pinkney Maness) died June 13, 1946 from a heart attach. At first I was guilt ridden because some of my cousins and I had been wrestling with him that afternoon. I thought it might have been our fault. I quickly decided that it was alright even if it was our fault, because he loved to wrestle with us so much. We would catch him in the corn bin or cotton seed bin in the barn and "attack" him; he would even throw us about like rag dolls. The seeds made an excellent cushion for wrestling and no one was ever hurt-except for grandpa.
My dad came down with pneumonia and I was saddened and scared beyond belief. I could not imagine life without dad and his mortality had never occurred to me before. After hearing hushed discussions of how serious his illness was, I went quietly to my room, laid on the bed and cried uncontrollably for a long time. Then I prayed as never before nor perhaps since. Dad lived and I was convinced that there was a God in heaven.
There was lighter times at Claypool also. I fired Dad's long-barreled shotgun there for the first time. Mom and Dad were in the field and I was at home. A chicken hawk landed on a post at the corral and I figured he was eyeballing the chickens. I grabbed the shotgun and fired at him. I haven't the foggiest idea as to whether I came close. All I know is that after I got up with what I thought might be a broken shoulder, he was gone. It occured to me then that this may not have been a good idea, and that Dad could probably tell that the gun had been fired. My solution was to clean the gun. I took the gun apart-every nut, screw, bolt and pin; cleaned and oiled it and got it all back together. I did not have the strength to depress the spring enought to get the hammer back in. I sweated bullets until dad came in then I made my confession. He put the hamer in and said, "You might need some advice before you use that shotgun again." I did receive "advice" on using the gun and hunted ducks and geese with some success. I spent many hours laying in waiting for that chicken hawk as well, but I never got him.
While duck hunting, I ran across a drilling crew setting up a wildcat rig (oil rig). These guys throught it pretty funny to see a kid hunting with a shotgun longer than he was tall. During the ribbing they were giving me, one of the crew wanted to throw his hard hat in the air for me to shoot. It was during the war and shells were hard to come by and in my mind too expensive to horse around with. He offered me a dollar bill though, which offset my argument. That hat went into the air and I shot a hole in it, at the same time severed that band. He got pretty upset then and I became a little frightened, but the boss made him calm down and also made him pay me a dollar.
There was another death while we lived in Claypool which rather starteled me. " Irishman Jack" was a Civil War veteran (no one knew which side and no one cared). No one knew his full name or where he came from. He was old as the hills and healthy as a horse-it never occurred to me that his heart might give out one day. He lived on the rance in a rather nice little house about two miles south of us. You could hear him calling his hounds ever morning-he had lungs like a bull elephant. He rode to town with Grandpa Maness ever few weeks to replenish his supply of wine I think. He would show up in any field and chop weeks for a while then wanter off. I used to see him on my hunting and trapping excursions and he would give me a tip now and then. Mostly he never said much. He came to our house one time-when dad was sick and mom said: "Well come on in Jack". "No", Jack replied. " I never came to bother-heard the bredwinner was sick-brought you this." He handed my Mom a twenty dollar bill and walked away before Mom could recover enough to say thank you. Twenty dollar back then was more than a week's wages. Ten hours a day got you three dollars. This act makes me view my "generous" donations in a different light today.
Because we had a truck we were much more mobile and it allowed us to visit family more often. I enjoyed the familes very much. While dad was sick Uncle O. K. Maness and Uncle Jewel Capehart alternated nights staying up all night with Dad and taking care of the family needs.
1945 was a good year.The war was over and cotton was high priced (about thirty-six cents a pound I think) and we had a very good cotton crop. There was only twenty acres of cotton though, so that fall we moved three miles south of Grady onto "Grandpa" Reeds place. I think there were roughly fifty acres of farmland, good bottom land by the river in the forks of two creeks.
Grady had a store, a blacksmith shop that also sold gasoline, a post office, and a school up to the eight grade. Mr. and Mrs. Frazier ran the school. She taught grades one through four and he taught grades five through eight. They both also ran a ranch and I worked for them frequently. Theyhad a major influence on my life in several ways. I had not done well in school to this point; in fact, I really thought I was a little dumb. I had to do the first grade twice and kind of lost interest after that. Under the tutoring and care of the Fraziers I learned very quickly to read, after which I developed a real interes in school and learning. The Fraziers also ran a very active sports program which included basketball, softball, and track. We were able to participate in 4-H Club activites such as the county fair. I completed eights grade with one girl and three other boys. The girl, Barbara Werthington, was great at sports and played on our ball teams. We went to Comanchee for the regional basketball tournament, and they all agreed to permit a girl to play on our team until it looked like we might win; they then decided that we had to remove her from the team and substitute a seventh grade boy. I thought that was unfair.
My world really expanded at Grady. So many things happened there that I can never cover half of them. My brother David was born at Grady. Francis and I bought a car-a 1939 Oldsmobile straight 8-and added girls to our life. We bought three saddle horses which we used more than the car. IT was about twenty miles either up or down the Red River to the bridge, so we frequently rode horses across the river to the skating rink and other "girl chasing places" at Spanish Fort.
Dad finally bought a battery powered radio and the family became connected to the world. There was news every day, the Grand Old Opry on Saturday nights as well as The Long Ranger, Amos and Andy, The Green Hornet and a host of other programs to hold our interest. Then, Uncle Jewel Capehart showed up one day and announced that Mr. Frazier had bought a "TV". "What's a TV?" I asked. "It's like a radio, only you can see the people talking," he answered. I let it drop there because this is the same uncle that introduced me to "snipe hunting." I was totally amazed later to find out that it was really true.
REA (Rual Electric Association) started wiring the county for electricity although they did not connect our house. Grandpa Capehart had purched a tractor for farming and being a progressive fellow he wanted electricity. However, Grandma did not. She said: "Not in my house! Somebody is going to get killed with that stuff." In the end, Grandpa prevailed and the electricity went in. My grandma, bless her sould, stepped gingerly around the extension cords for a long time as if they were rattle snakes. Now with computers and fascimile machines, I am beginning to understand Grandma's feelings.
In 1949, we moved North of Grady onto Olba Goldsmith's place where my baby brother Clyde (Shorty) was born. I think Mom and Dad had a child each time they moved. Maybe they should have considered moving less frequently. We lived there about one year and I still attended school at Grady. While plowing one Saturday for Olba, I came across a young prairie dog right out in the middle of the field. I managed to catch him and put him in the glove compartment of the car. Francis took the car to town at noon while I kept on plowing and giggling at the thought ofhis reaction when he opned the glove compartment. LAter I learned that a girl, who was sitting in the car with him in Ryan, opened it and Francis, girl, and prairie dog went in every direction up and down the streets in Ryan. I would sure love to have a video of that operation.
Incidentally, the car was nice to have at times, but most of our travel and much of our work was done on horseback. All the time we lived around Grady we traveled west about twenty miled to Uncle Steve's, north ten miles to Grandpa and Grandma Maness, east eight miles to Grandpa and Grandma Capehart's and file or six miles across the Red River to Spanish Fort. Mom worried about the river crossings because of quicksand and high water. We didn't worry about anything.
In 1950 Mom and Dad bought ninety acres of land three miles east of Orr in Love County (about twenty miles east of Grady). The property didn't have a house so they moved into a small house about one mile away on property owned by Uncle Bert Capehart. He lived in Wichita Falls, TX at the time. I did not make the move though. Mr. Frazier convinced Mom and Dad that I should stay at Grady until I finished school. So I moved into my own little house next to theirs on school property (both houses had been built for teachers). I slept and bathed in my house and ate meals with the Fraziers. I worked on weekends and in the evenings sometimes for Mr. Frazier. He paid me fifty cents per hour-a man's wage. It was a very plesant stay, mostly school and work. I graduated in the Spring of '51 from the eight grade and moved to Orr with my family.
My first year at Ringling-there was no high school at Orr-was spent mostly on sports and social activities, so I ended up with terrible grades. I graduated from junior hight, definitely without honors. I entered my sophomore year with a different outlook on school. At the end of the semester, I had excellent grades. There had been no sports and very few social activites. We were having a difficult time financially. Dad was working in Fort Worth, TX during the winter to try to keep the farming operation afloat. He was staying with our minister who was attending Bible College in Fort Worth.
Starting in the Spring pf 1953 I went to Fort Worth and stayed wiht Dad and the minister whild attending school at Paschal High School. "Brother Raymond" (the minster) took me to school to enroll, one options was "PE" or "ROTC." I knew I did not care for PE so I took ROTC. After we left the office I asked Brother Raymond: "What is ROTC?" I attended school from 7:30 am until 3:00PM. I then jogged eleven blocks to work at an ice cream plant from 3:00 to 11:30. I took the city buss to school; it cost only five cents and was cheaper than driving and easier than fighting for a parking space. Because of the bus schedules, however, I had to get up at 6:00 am. I wanted the summer break to come so badly that it almost bacame an obsession. I dreamed of being able to sleep late in the morning. Spring did finally arrive. Dad went back home to farm and Brother Raymond graduated from Bible College. It was assumed that I would go back with dad, but I was making seventy-five cents an hour and had other ideas. After a long discussion, Dad and Brother Raymond moved me into the world's smalles house in a nice neighborhood across from the seminary. The rent was cheaper there than were we had been living. The little house had a bedroom in back, kitchenette in the middle and a living room in front. It was probably ten by twenty feet. There was a very small shower and a stool in the bedroom but no hot water, and so I quickly showered after work before catching the midnight bus home. The house had been built on the very back of the lot by my landlady and her late husband. They lived there while they were building their home on the front of the lot. The little house served my needs quite well.
One day, during my first week at work after school had let out, I stopped in front of the Coca Cola Bottling Company to watch through the big plate glass window. I was fascinated by the bottles going down the line, being filled and capped. Two gentlemen were standing at the front door nearby. One of them motioned for me to come in. "Do you want a job kid?" he asked. "No, I work at the Foremost Icecream Plant," I replied. Then I had a brilliant idea. I asked about the hours; they were 7:00 until 2:00 depending on how fast you could go. So I took the job as helper on a delivery route(back to getting up very early). After a few weeks on the job, the driver tyold me that he would not be in the following Monday. So, Monday I took the truck and made the route. On Wednesday, the boss caught up with me before I left the plant and wanted to know about the driver. I really thought it quiet natural that if the driver didn't show up for work, I should go ahead and get the job done. In short, the driver never showed up again and I delivered Coca Cola by myslef until school started, and enjoyed it. It never occurred to me until years later that there probably should have been a raise there.
By the time school started in the Fall of 1953, my world was becoming less plesant. I felt isolated. I had no recreation time at all to speak of, my grades were not at all satisfactory, and I had no friends or relatives. The cease-fire had been declared in Korea. The final straw was when the plant had cut back in labor. The boss was very nice when he laid me off but htere was much going through my head. I missed most of what he had said.
He handed me a handwritten note to a friend of his who managed a Cotton Factory thinking that I should hurry before the office workers had left for the day. I did not hurry. Instead, I walked along pondering my situation wondering what would happen if I did not get the job. It was too far from school to walk and I'd have to drive. It was not in the best part of town; what if they didn't pay enought? What if...? I found myself standing in front of the Marine Corps recruiting office looking at a sign that said something about finishing school as you serve in the corps. I raised my right hand on November 18, 1953 and took an oath to defend the Consitution against all enemies. I went to boot camp and then to Korea. For a country boy who had never been out of the Red River region, being on the other side of the world in Korea was big change and it widened my perspective a great deal.

Monday, May 4, 2009

John Ray Bardin 1909-1958 (Update)

Photo: of Wreckage in "The New Mexican"
Dated: Thursday, 21 August 1958
On Friday, May 1, 2009 I received this article in the mail from Judy Klinger of the Santa Fe, NM Public Library regarding my search for information on the Death of John Ray Bardin.

Article dated: 14 August 1958, "The New Mexican" newspaper:

Three persons were killed today in the flaming crash of two cars on Highway 66 in southern Santa Fe County. The collision occurred one mile east of Baron about mid-morning.

The first word to State Police headquarters identified two of the victims as the drivers, Edward William Mussell, and John Ray Bardin, 50. A third person riding with Bardin was considered possibly to be a hitchhiker.

State Police Officers S. E. Lindsey and Tim Pince said it appeared that one car may have been passing and overturned in the passing lane, with the second car crashing into the vehicle. Both cars burned. The victims were pinned in the wreckage.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

John Ray Bardin 1909-1958

JOHN RAY "JOHNNY" BARDIN

4 May 1909 ~ 14 August 1958

Recently I began researching the Bardin side of the family tree. Over the weekend I met John Ray and have been consumed with finding out what happened to him. I know that John was born in Johnston County, OK in 1909 and to John Pink Bardin and Jettie Viola Dudley Bardin. John was 4th of 12 children.

inscription reads:

CPL 662 PORT CO TO (POSSIBLY TC)

World War II

On 15 April 1942 John enlisted in the Army and served in World War II. His enlistement Record states that he was a resident of Okmulgee County at the time and enlisted in Tulsa, Ok. He was single and had only a grammer school education. John Ray died in Santa Fe County, New Mexico but is buried in Henryetta, Okmulgee Co, Oklahoma at West Lawn Cemetary. I have searched for what the CPL 662 Port Co was or did or served and have found nothing on it at this time. John died young and would like to know why?

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Under Contruction

Please excuse the delay in posting as I make changes to the website. I will return on sunday afternoon with regular scheduled postings.... Thanks for your patients

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

GRAVEYARD RABBIT OF WICHITA COUNTY TEXAS

I would have never thought you'd catch me in a graveyard other than at a funeral. However, since doing genealogy research for my ancestor's I've discovered that there is a very calming peace about a cemetary. My youngest son Dustin has spent the last two days helping me locate family members for people on Find A Grave. While doing this research I decided to create this site for people to find their familes here in the Wichita County Area. We just started, but stop by and see us. If anyone needs information from this way let us know...

Monday, March 16, 2009

SPRING BREAK

Hi All,

Well it's beautiful here in Wichita Falls, TX this morning. Right now, the sun is up and it's about 46 degrees. We are expecting it to be almost 80. We've had a house full of family this weekend and spent the weekend just hanging out and playing. Everyone had a blast. Will be out for a few days. See ya soon!

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

BAKER FAMILY

John Wesley Baker
16 July 1896 - 12 Feb 1968
CANADA

IRENE VIENA WEATHERALL
18 FEB 1897 - 28 JAN 1951
CANADA
I dont know much about John and Irene. All that I know is they married in 1915 probably somewhere in Canada as all their children were born in Canada. To the union eight children were born:

John Clarence Baker................... 1 Sept 1916, St Vincent, Ontario, Canada
Wesley Nelson Baker.................. 18 Sept 1919, St Vincent, Ontario, Canada
George Wesley Baker.................25 Nov 1921, Canada
Doris Ida Baker...........................2 Jan 1924
Helen Marjory Baker..................26 Jan 1926, Canada
Mazi Ina Baker............................ 26 Feb 1929
Joan Gwendolyn Baker.............. 4 Oct 1935, Canada

" when love and skill work together, expect a masterpiece"

Part 4: My Family Quilt- My Mothers Side (Continued...)

born: 26 Jan 1926, St Vincent, Ontario, Canada
died: 07 June, 1998, St. Ignance, Michigan

written by: Rene Corwin Young

This story is a continuance of the orginal post: "My Family Quilt". In Feb of 2007 Rene's dream and promise to Helen Faleris just before she died was fullfilled. When our Grama Helen got sick, one of her last request to Rene was to find my sister and I. She wanted to see us before she died. Unfortunately, grama was unable to have that wish. Before Rene's visit to Texas in October of 2007, she created a Scrapbook of the Faleris Family for me as a gift. In "My Family Quilt, "My Mother's Side", the story she wrote is that which I am sharing with you.

Grama was born in Canada and would always joke with us that she was born in the "Asshole of the Eggplant". You will have to look at the map of Canada to understand the story she told us. Grama's father (Joseph Baker) was a laborer, and Grama's mother (Irene Baker) was a house wife and mother of eight.

Monday, March 9, 2009

A Childhood Memory Come True.... (Part 2)

photo provided by: Rene Corwin Young
March 2009
St. Ignace, MI

When I first started my story I told you about a Childhood Memory that my cousin helped me relive when she came to Texas in October of 2007. This story and the photos are of the memory. While the photos are recent, they took me back to 1974....

I have not been able to get a specific date, but I think the date was sometime in 1974 when my mom took my sister and I to St. Ignace MI to visit her parents. My memories of the trip are nothing but pleasant other than the fact that my YIYI had passed away prior to us arriving.

While there I discovered SNOW for the very first time. My memory was of me playing outside and something started to falling and I asked what it was. I was told that Grama responded by telling me it was Snow and i began to run around the lilac tree singing...: It's Snowing, It's Snowing". I was told later by my cousin that everyone stood in the door laughing and smiling at my enjoyment. The picture of the tree above is the very tree that I have such a wonderful memory of and it's covered in snow.

The other memory I have is of something that reminded me of a bridge tower. However, I never could exactly find out what that was. Until April of 2007. When I first spoke to my cousin I mentioned the memory and she instantly told me it was the Mackinac Bridge This is a photo of almost my exact memory. Rene spent several months trying to get the perfect shot of the memory I had described to her and this is as close as it gets. I remember being a little closer, probably almost directly under it as I woke from the back seat and looked up. But this photo is perfect.

Thanks Rene for the memories!

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

THANK YOU

Just wanted to send out a big THANK YOU to the person from Greece who has been helping my cousin transcribe my Grandparents documents that are in Greek. Thank you for taking the time out of your day to help us. All these years we only knew them as Frank and Jennie Faleris and now hopefully we will be able to continue our journey!

Joseph Dugan & Nancy Elizabeth Cron

JOSEPH DUGAN
&
NANCY ELIZABETH CRON
12 APRIL 1860
SPENCER COUNTY, INDIANA


For year's I have search for my Great-Great Grandmother Amanda's parents. Until recently I have had no luck in finding any information. Recently Debbie A. wrote to me with information regarding her parents. She has since sent me marriage Certificates for both Amanda's Father and Step-father. The license attached is that of her parents: Joseph A. Dugan and Nancy Elizabeth Cron.

Not much is known about Joseph Dugan. The only information we have to date is that he served during the Civil War. He was a private in Company F, commanded by Captain J. Pine, in the 28th Regiment of the Indiana Volunteer Calvary and died during the war of disease on 3 October 1864 in Little Rock, ARK. Joseph was born abt 1840, somewhere in Indiana. I do not know where Joseph is buried at this time.


Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Mystery Solved

I am so very excited about the information I received today. While on my journey searching for "Where I Came From", I have met a few bumps in the road. On my father's side, I could not locate my great-great grandmother's parents. Yesterday, I received an email from Ancestory.com and someone else had her in their tree and sent me the information I was looking for. So now my journey on that side may continue. I will post more to this story in the near future when I am through with "My Family Quilt: My Mother's Side.

STAY TUNED!

Monday, March 2, 2009

Childhood Memories


As a child I remembered meeting my Cousin Robin Rene' Cordell, for the first time in 1974,( I thought it was so cool to meet someone who was named after me) she was from Texas and had come to visit us the family, after the death of our Great Grama Jennie Faleris (YIYI) we called her.

This was the end of September, and our winters were never the same; one year we could get them in August and the next year they would come after Christmas. This year though they came while Robin was visiting. Our Grama had a Lilac tree in the middle of our front yard and when it started to snow Robin went outside and began running around the lilac tree yelling it's snowing Mama. I remember all the adults laughing, watching this beautiful little girl having so much joy in watching the snow fall.

That was the last time I seen or heard about Robin for many years. not knowing what she looked like, how she had grown, she was still in the hearts of her Grandparents Helen and James Faleris. I remember there was a picture of Robin she was about 7 months old that hung on the wall in our living room, for as long as I can remember. Robin and her sister Kristi were never far from the daily thoughts of Grama and Papa. There were years that there was a birthday cake made on the day of Robin and Kristi's birthday, when asked why were were having cake with candles we were told because it was a special day.
May times though out the years Grama would say I wish I could see my little angels one more time before I die. In 1995 is when I began my quest in finding Robin and Kristi. In June of 1998 I made a promise to Grama that I would find Robin and Kristi and told her how sorry I was that I was unable to do so while she was still alive. But in 2007 I fulfilled my promise and was able to tell Robin and Kristi that they were so very loved my Grama and Papa, and there was not a day that went by that They did not think of them. I want this to be my way to share with Robin and the world the love that they had in their hearts for her. The picture of the Lilac are from that same tree that Robin ran around when she was of the age of 5 or 6. Picture taken may years later, but that tree is still standing and every year since I found Robin and Kristi I go and take pictures of the Lilac tree and I send one in a email to Robin. So her childhood memories will go on.
Robin I hope that you know Childhood Dreams do come true, and I am so happy to have you in my life.

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Part 3: My Family Quilt (Contiuned)

James and Helen Faleris
21 June 1943
Canada
written by: Rene Corwin Young
This story is a continuance of the orginal post: "My Family Quilt". In Feb of 2007 Rene's dream and promise to Helen Faleris just before she died was fullfilled. When our Grama Helen got sick, one of her last request to Rene was to find my sister and I. She wanted to see us before she died. Unfortunately, grama was unable to have that wish. Before Rene's visit to Texas in October of 2007, she created a Scrapbook of the Faleris Family for me as a gift. In "My Family Quilt, "My Mother's Side", the story she wrote is that which I am sharing with you.

In 1942 Papa met Grama (Helen Baker) while she was working in a resturant. From the stories I remember he was trying to make his girlfriend jealous. After they broke up Papa went back to the resturant and courted Grama and they m arried 21 June 1943. Papa either had a job in the states or got a job in the states hauling coal for a company in Detroit, MI. Papa decided to make a move to Detroit where they would raise their family, as they found out that Grama was pregnant with her first child Joan. In July when Grma tried to cross into the states she was refused entrane because of the war that was going on at the time. In November 1943 Grama was allowed to move to the states with her husband, but was not allowed to become a US Citizen.

Detroit, MI is where they made their home until about 1957. When they moved to St. Ignace, MI Papa got a job ofer from his brother-in-law to help run his resturant(The Belle Isle). Grama and Papa had three children by this time, Joan, George and Kathy which all had been born in Detorit, MI. I remember being told "YiYi" (papas mother) had a home in detroit as well.

Thursday, February 26, 2009

My Family Quilt: My Mothers Side Continued...

In the last post I told you about my grandfather James Faleris and in a previous post I told you about his mother Jennie Scopis from Sparta Greece. Not much is known about Frank and Jennie's voyage from Greece to the America's. Other than the information already posted this is all the information I have about my grandfathers parents....

Frank K Faleris born abt 1883, Sparta Greece, Died: 17 Feb 1957, Detroit, Wayne Michigan
Jennie Scopis born abt 1885, Sparta Greece, Died: 22 Sept 1974, St. Ignace, MacKinac, Michigan
Date of Marriage Unknown. All that is known about Frank is that he was a Canday Maker. I have no information about his family in Greece.

Children:
George Faleris:..................abt 1902, Greece
Pauline Faleris:.................abt 1903, Mepois, Greece
Tessea Faleris:..................abt 1904, Mepois, Greece
Harry Andrew Faleris:.....31 Jan 1907, Greece - 10 July 1981, St. Ignace, MacKinac, MI
Helen Faleris:....................9 June 1908, Baltimore, MD - 10 Jan 1996, Riverside, California
Mary Faleris:....................14 Sept 1909, Baltimore, MD- May 11985, El Dorado Springs, Cedar, MS
Thomas Faleris:...............7 July 1915, Hamilton, ,Ontario, Candada - 15 april 1993, Scranton, Lackawanna, PA Charles Faleris:................5 May 1917, Owen Sound, , Ontario, Canada-7 Nov 1990, Detroit, Wayne, MI
William Faleris:................10 Aug 1918, Greece- 10 Oct 1990, Ferndale, , MI
James Faleris:..................24 Sept 1919, Canada-4 March 1989 St Ignace, MacKinac, MI
Bessie Faleris:..................26 July 1921, Colbourge, Ontarios Canada-

Monday, February 23, 2009

My Family Quilt- My Mothers Side




My cousin Rene Corwin Young wrote the following story for me while creating a Scrapbook of the Faleris Family before her Journey to Texas to meet my sister and I in October of 2007.


James Faleris

Born: 24 September 1919, Canada
Died: 04 March 1989, St. Ignace, MI


This is the story that Rene remembers as being told to her as a child growing up in the Faleris Family about our "Grandpa".

"Papa was born in Canada. Although the family orginated from Greece, they travelled many times in and out of Greece, to Canada and the US. They resided in several States in the US, before settling in Ontario, Canada. When Papa Jim was 9 yrs old he was diagnosed with Spinal Meningitis and was pronounced dead. The story was when PAPA awoke he was in the morgue. There had been a law passed, that it was mandatory to embalm persons before burying them. Rene said that she remembers being told by Papa that when he was young he worked as a volunteer for the Search & Resue Department for the Canadian Mounty, between the ages of 17-20. He had a passion for riding horses. Rene states, "This could be a childs imagination as I am the only one who remembers this story. Papas Father FRANK FALERIS was a candy maker in Greece and Canada. Rene said she could not find out what kind of candy Frank made. Papa's mother "YIYI" (greek for Grandma), was a house wife and a mother of 12 children.


(...to be continued)

My Family Quilt

My family quilt was started
generations in the past.
Designed with love,
its pattern's rich
in values that will last.
Each person sews another square of memories that endure,
While challenges add strength
that makes our family life secure.
And stitching it together
threads of closeness,
warmth, and caring
Make it cozy and more comforting
with each year of sharing.

My Genealogy Quest is the reason I started scrapbooking in 2007. It has been the hardest challenge of all for me to accomplish. However, recently I began to confront my challenge and have enjoyed what I have began to create. I recently ran across this poem and decided it would be the beginning of my book. So, for the next few months I will begin to quilt my family tree for those I love the most and hope that one day when I'm gone they will look at what I've created and know that it was created with love and with the hope that they will cherish and continue the quilt for their children to come....

With all my love,

Robin

Friday, February 20, 2009

KREATIVE BLOGGER AWARD FOR WHERE I COME FROM


WOW! I cant believe I got my very first AWARD. My award was given to me by Judith over at TENNESSEE MEMORIES if you have not had a chance to visit her, stop by and say hi. Now comes the job of Nominating some other wonderful bloggers....
My first award has to go to Creative Gene because if it had not been for me stumbling onto this blog, I would have never created my own. My second award goes to 100 Years in America by Lisa. This was the second reason I started my geneology blog. I found her through Creative Gene. And even though this person nominated me for this award, I have to return it to them as I love Tennesee Memories... my great-grandmothers family was from Tennessee and visiting this blog sent me back to a place that I just loved. I have never visited, but thought the photos and stories I felt as if I had always lived there. I stopped by and the first story I read was: " Dairy Farm in Maryville at the Foot of the Smokies... this story really brought back memories of when I was a little girl growning up on a little farm in Bell's Tx and the worst but whoopin' I ever got... "I forgot to close the gate and let all my great-grandpa's cows out". Even now, when I open a cattle gate, I go back to that day. Even though at that time, I thought I would die... I can actually laugh now. I wish my grandpa was here to see me now working with the cows... I love you GRANDPA for all that you taught me and all that you gave me. I never forgot! And the other blog that inspired me was.... Shades of the Departed at first, I didn't understand the title, until I began reading. I have been hooked on the stories and the photos. So to everyone who inspired me... THANK YOU!
Now for the instructions:
Instructions are as follows:
1. Copy the award to your site.
2. Link to the person from whom you received the award.
3. Nominate other bloggers.4. Link to those sites on your blog.
5. Leave a message on the blogs you nominate.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

The Old Yellow Shirt

I just received this in an email and had to share... thought it was a wonderful idea to do with our daughters, mothers, nieces, grandmothers.....


The baggy yellow shirt had long sleeves, four extra-large pockets trimmed in black thread, and snaps up the front. It was faded from years of wear, but still in decent shape. I found it in 1963 when I was home from college on Christmas break, rummaging through bags of clothes Mom intended to give away.
You're not taking that old thing, are you?" Mom said when she saw me packing the yellow shirt. "I wore that when I was pregnant with your brother in 1954!" "It's just the thing to wear over my clothes during art class, Mom. Thanks!" I slipped it into my suitcase before she could object. The yellow shirt became a part of my college wardrobe. I loved it. After graduation, I wore the shirt the day I moved into my new apartment and on Saturday mornings when I cleaned.
The next year, I married. When I became pregnant, I wore the yellow shirt during big-belly days. I missed Mom and the rest of my family, since we were in Colorado and they were in Illinois. But that shirt helped. I smiled, remembering that Mother had worn it when she was pregnant, 15 years earlier.
That Christmas, mindful of the warm feelings the shirt had given me, I patched one elbow, wrapped it in holiday paper and sent it to Mom. When Mom wrote to thank me for her "real" gifts, she said the yellow shirt was lovely. She never mentioned it again.
The next year, my husband, daughter, and I stopped at Mom and Dad's to pick up some furniture. Days later, when we uncrated the kitchen table, I noticed something yellow taped to its bottom. The shirt!
And so the pattern was set. On our next visit home, I secretly placed the shirt under Mom and Dad's mattress. I don't know how long it took for her to find it, but almost two years passed before I discovered it under the base of our living-room floor lamp. The yellow shirt was just what I needed now while refinishing furniture. The walnut stains added character.
In 1975, my husband and I divorced. With my three children, I prepared to move back to Illinois. As I packed, a deep depression overtook me. I wondered if I could make it on my own. I wondered if I would find a job. Unpacking in our new home, I knew I had to get the shirt back to Mother. The next time I visited her, I tucked it in her bottom dresser drawer.
Meanwhile, I found a good job at a radio station. A year later, I discovered the yellow shirt hidden in a rag bag in my cleaning closet. Something new had been added. Embroidered in bright green across the breast pocket were the works "I BELONG TO PAT." Not to be outdone, I got out my own embroidery materials and added an apostrophe and seven more letters. Now the shirt proudly proclaimed, "I BELONG TO PAT'S MOTHER."
But I didn't stop there. I zigzagged all the frayed seams, then had a friend mail the shirt in a fancy box to Mom from Arlington, VA. We enclosed an official-looking letter from "The Institute for the Destitute," announcing that she was the recipient of an award for good deeds. I would have given anything to see Mom's face when she opened the box.
But, of course, she never mentioned it. Two years later, in 1978, I remarried. The day of our wedding, Harold and I put our car in a friend's garage to avoid practical jokers. After the wedding, while my husband drove us to our honeymoon suite, I reached for a pillow in the car to rest my head. It felt lumpy. I unzipped the case and found, wrapped in wedding paper, the yellow shirt. The shirt was Mother's final gift. She had known for three months that she had terminal Lou Gehrig's disease. Mother died the following year at age 57.
I was tempted to send the yellow shirt with her to her grave, but I'm glad I didn't because it is a vivid reminder of the love-filled game she and I played for 16 years. Besides, my older daughter is in college now, majoring in art. And every art student needs a baggy yellow shirt with big pockets.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

....Secret to Marriage...


While visiting ROCKIN' R Retreat Blog, I happened onto a cute little scrapbook blog and had to post to my personal daily blog and had just had to share with you here..

A man and woman had been married for more than 60 years. They had shared everything. They had talked about everything. They had kept no secrets from each other except that the little old woman had a shoe box in the top of her closet that she had cautioned her husband never to open or ask her about

For all of these years, he had never thought about the box, but one day the little old woman got very sick and the doctor said she would not recover. In trying to sort out their affairs, the little old man took down the shoe box and took it to his wife's bedside. She agreed that it was time that he should know what was in the box. When he opened it, he found two crocheted dolls and a stack of money totaling $95,000.
He asked her about the contents. 'When we were to be married,' she said, ' my grandmother told me the secret of a happy marriage was to never argue. She told me that if I ever got angry with you, I should just keep quiet and crochet a doll.' The little old man was so moved; he had to fight back tears. Only two precious dolls were in the box. She had only been angry with him two times in all those years of living and loving. He almost burst with happiness. 'Honey,' he said, 'that explains the doll, but what about all of this money? Where did it come from?''Oh,' she said, 'that's the money I made from selling the dolls.'

A Prayer.......
Dear Lord, I pray for Wisdom to understand my man;
Love to forgive him;
And Patience for his moods;
Because Lord, if I pray for Strength,
I'll beat him to death,
because I don't know how to crochet
.

When I first starting reading this post on the other blog, I have to say it brought tears to my eyes. But those quickly turned to laughter. I have so enjoyed this story, I felt it was worth sharing here. Please feel free to copy and share with others....

Gone but not Forgotten....

photo taken: 7 June 1947
Leonard , TX

EVANS BROTHERS
Left to Right: Ray, Clarence, Lawrence, Ernest, Irvan and Archie.
This photo was taken the day they buried their mother Anthaline Beasley Evans.

Remember my first post to this blog..."Two Peas In A Pod", well they are second and third from the left. If you didn't get to read... here is part of what these boys use to do...
..." one day when their mom and dad were gone to the store, their "Grandpa" loaded all the "furry critters aka cats" up in the horse buggy with all the "Evans Boys" in the back along side. As they were going to town, Grandpa had the boys deposit a cat at each house along the way. On their way back, they came across a woman who had received one of their furry deposits and she politely handed it back to them and never said a word. Supposidley, there Grandpa never told on all the mischievious things the boys got into while "Ma and Pa" were in town."
This is probably one of the only photos with all the "Evans Boys" at one time. The only person missing in this photo is the "Baby" of the group... Grace Evans... their one and only sister. Can you imagine growin' up with 6 older brothers. And let me tell you, these men were not small by any means.
I remember my "Papa" and "Aunt Gracie" always pickin' on each other and arguing over who was right or wrong. Most of the time "Aunt Gracie" would get her way.

SEARCHING FOR ANSWERS...



1885-1974


when i was 5 my mom took me to visit my grandparents in MI. Unfortunately my "YIYI" passed away shortly before I arrive. When I arrived, my grandmother gave me a picture of the Virgin Mary and Baby Jesus. I remember it being metal of some sort and very heavy. It was only about a 3x5. On the back it had something written about Mary and Jesus. I cherished it until my ex-husband destroyed it. Listed below is the information I know about her and my Great-Grandfather Frank. I do not have a photo of him.

This is YiYi, she was born 1885 in Sparta, Greece and she passed away on 22 Septemeber 1974, in St. Ignace MI. She married Frank K. Faleris and together they had 11 children. George, Pauline, Tessea andHarry were all born in Greece. Pauline and Tessea where born in Mepois, Greece. The exact location of the others is known. Helen was born in Baltimore Maryland, and the rest were born in Canada. Their son William was born in Greece in 1919.

This is the Border Crossing Canada to US 1895-1956 document which I located on ancestory.com. It states that Frank and his Family arrived 24 May 1923. Port of Arrival is Deroit and also states he was 43 at the time and a "Candy Maker" This would put Franks year of birth at abt 1880.

However, I have also located a Detroit Border crossing & Passender & Crew List 1905-1957.


(see below)





The information on this document states he arrived on 6 Nov 1938 and he was 55 years old at the time. That would put his year of birth abt 1883. It says something about 1906, but the image is not clear enough for me to tell what it is saying. I dont know if 1906 was when they arrived in Canada or not. If anyone knows about these documents I would love to know what the difference is and would love to know where I can find Frank and Jennie's parents information in Greece.

Below is another document that I located and said it was the manifest document. It is front and back. If you can help me locate their parents or any other information please let me know where to start.





Sunday, February 15, 2009

Alma Elizabeth Clark Evans



Dec 26, 1903 - Sept 8, 1978

aka My Great Grandma

My great-grandmother is the daughter of William Henry Clark born 17 Nov 1854 in Indiana and Amanda Elizabeth Dugan Clark born March 1862 in Indiana. My grandmother is one of 14 children.

My great-grandmother was a wonderful cook, and was always prepared when company showed. No matter who many people seemed to show up unannounced, she always found a way to feed them all, and not one person ever left hungry. My favorite memories of her are from "Thanksgiving" and "Christmas" when I would wake up in the morning and run to great everyone who had arrived. Her and my grandmother Lydia Mae Clark Campbell would be in the kitchen preparing our feast. I also loved when she would cook Pinto Beans aka (RedBeans here in the south) becasue she had a special coffee cup that hung by the crockpot that was specifically for my tasting pleasure. I always got the first cup! For my birthday's she would always make me "Chocolate Cake" and that was the best part of the day.

When I was little, we lived on a small farm in Bells, Texas and there was a creek out behind the barn. We had problems with Rattlesnakes and Copperheads where we lived due to the creek. I remember swinging in my swing hanging in the Wheeping Willow tree in the back yard and Grandma racing out towards me screaming with a garden hoe in her hand. For a small child, that is pretty frightening. Actually, she had an eagle eye for those darn pest and apparently there was one wrapped around my swing. It was nothing for her to be in the garden and see her just wack a snake and continue her chores.

Grandma always kept me out of trouble. No matter what mess I got into, all I had to do is go to her. We had a garden out on the side of the house by the drive way and had lots of vegitables growing, everything from corn, greenbeans, potatoes, and cabbage. Usually for dinner of something we would go out and pick tomatoes, or onions or cuccumbers or something. So one day me being the little helper I was thought I would go pick cabbage for dinner. Only thing was, I picked all of it.... two rows worth. Grandma shook her head and told me to go replant before grandpa got home. Well, needless to say, I wasn't done when he drove up.

One of my other favorite memories was when we would go out to the garden and as she picked okra for dinner or whatever meal she was serving, she would thought the tough ones over to the cattle. I loved picking them and feeding to them. It also, ended up getting me into trouble. I wanted to feed them okra one day and they were not near the fence, so I opened the gate to go in and feed. Being a small child.... I forgot to shut the gate. Needless to say that whipping willow tree my swing was in.... we got to know each other pretty well.



Evans Twins: Like two Peas in a Pod

August 1, 1909 - April 6, 1997
August 1, 1909 - February 23, 1998
Identical twins, Clarence, left and Lawrence Evans standing look quite dapper in their attire.
Original Photo given to me by my Great-Grandfather
Orginal Post: by Pat Welch, Lifestyle Editor for the Sherman Democrate in August 1991 for their 90th Birthday Celebration.
Sherman - The Evans twins, Clarence and Larence, are like "Two Peas in a Pod". It's hard to tell one from the other even after 90 years
The twins have a zest for life and live every minute to the fullest. They were born Aug. 1, 1901, in Leonard, sons of George Washington and Anthaline Evans. They grew up on a 200-acre farm and farm life was all the two ever knew until they were grown and married.
The twins agree that farm life is a little tough and they've had their share of hard work. So have their other four brothers and sister, Gracie, who Lawrence said was "Spoiled Rotten" by her six older brothers.
They remember picking cotton at a very young age with cotton sacks their mother made from feed sacks, slopping the hogs, milking cows,, cutting wood, shelling corn, plowing and planting the fields. They agree that children today dont know what hard work is.
But along wtih hard work, there was a lot of fun growing up. For entertainment, Clarence laughed and said the game was usually wrestling or just plain fighting in the big old barn out back. He said on rainy days they would scoot off to the barn, form a ring (called the bull dog ring) and have a good time. Lawrence said the barn was their favorite spot away from the parents, playing, fighting, dreaming of far away places and things to do.
Their parents were strict. Church was the center of most everything they did. Their dad was superintendent of Sunday school at the Baptist Chruch and they were there everytime the door opened. Being strict Baptist, they were not allowed to dance or play cards. Like a lot of small communites, church servies were shared with different denominations, and they went to the Methodist Church on Sunday Evenings.
Strict or not, boys will be boys, and the Evans twins were certainly not without their pranks. They recalled when their parents would go to town they were on their own with only grandpa to watch over them. Grandfather lived with them for 17 years and never once told on them for their frivolous acts.
More than once when their parents were away they would meet peddlers passing by and sell chicken and eggs and pocket a few cents for "going to town." Grandpa kept his mouth shut even when their parents wondered wht had happened to the chickens.
Like all farms, they had their share of cats. One day on the way to town, their grandpa loaded the buggy with the little furry creatures and the boys dropped off a cat here and there. They both really got a kick out of telling about depositing a cat at the home of a woman as they went to town and on their way back, the woman was standing in the road with the cat and handed the cat back to them without saying a word.
When they were teenagers and older the twins said they were never out of a job. They were taught how to work and were always willing to put out a good hard days work for others. "Work never hurt anyone, and we are proff of that saying," they said.
Good lookers, the twins caught the eyes of a few young ladies in the area... but they had their sights on two. Lawrence favored Lela Mae Simms and Clarence fell for Alma Elizabeth Clark.
Lawrence laughed, looking at Lela as he told of their wedding day, Aug. 16, 1919. She was 16 and he was 18 years old. Her dad was out hunting so they eloped in his buggy to the preacher's house. They were afraid to drive down the road so they drove down the corn rows in the field. The preacher married them on the run and watched her dad drive right past them as they were picking over the tall corn.
Her father may have objected, but it was a marriage that weathered time and the couple will be celebrating their 72nd Anniversary this month.
Clarence and Alma slipped away in his horse drawn buggy on Aug. 14, 1922, drove up to the same preacher's house and were married as they were seated in the buggy. Clarence said the preacher cam out with his Bible and married them and they took time for him to make a picture of them with his box camera. They were married 64 years when Alma died in September 1978.
Clarence worked for Southern Ice Company in Sherman delivering to nerly every house in town. He worked for Lingo-Leeper Lumber Company and Foxworth-Galbreath Lumber Company where he was yard forman retiring at the age of 62.
Lawrence farmed most of his life and retired from Plano School System.
Bothy have a mischievous look and infectious smile and agreed that life has been good to them. Their advice to others is live every day to the fullest. Do what you want to do.
Lawrence resides in Van Alstyne where he is a member of the First Baptist Church and Clarence in Sherman and is a member of Grayson Bible Baptist Church.
Clarence has a daughter, Lyda Mae Campbell, who resides in Sherman. he has two grandchildren and two great-grandchildren.
Lawerence has five children, Virgil of Anna, Ophelia Graves of Van Alstyne, Von Ray of Mt. Pleasant, Ann Margaret Wilder of Dallas, and Theda Marie Briggs of Denison. He has 18 grandchildren and five great-grandchildren.
They have two surviving siblings, their sister, Gracie Thomas, 85, of Leonard, and Earnest, 96 of San Antonio.
Clarence and LAwerence will be honored with a party from 2 until 4 pm Sunday at Shady Oaks Nursing Home in Sherman where Lawrence is recouperating from hip surgery. He hopes to be in his own home in Van Alstyne shortly.
Their Children will host the even that is open to friends and relatives.

Saturday, February 14, 2009

A Childhood Memory Come True....



In 1974, my mom took my little sister Kristi and I on a trip from TEXAS to MICHIGAN to see our Grandparents for the very first time. I have no memory of the the plan ride there or back. The two memories that I remember most are of the "mackinaw bridge" and "SNOW".


I remember riding in the back of a car and something woke me up. I asked my mom .."ARE WE THERE"? And she told me not yet, but as I looked up, I saw one of the towers on the bridge almost as it is in the picture attached but almost from underneath and lots of bright lights. For years I had this memory stuck in my head and as I got older I thought it had just been a dream. I never knew the name of the bridge or where it was, I just knew we were driving and it was a bridge.


Upon the first conversation with my cousin in 2007, I mentioned this dream while talking about her memory of our visit to St. Ignace. The moment I mentioned my memory she knew exactly what I was talking about. The next day she started sending me pictures of the bridge that she had taken over the years and then started going to take more just for me. Trying to get the perfect shot of my memory. If you look, you will see two towers supporting the bridge. My memory is of one of those look almost straight up and it was dark, other than all the lights which light the bridge.


My Second memorie is "SNOW"... my very first memory of ever seeing it. While visiting my family in St. Ignace MI, I happend to be playing in the backyard of my grandmothers and all at once, something was falling out of the sky. I don't remember anything else, other than my grandmother saying, it's "SNOW" and running around saying...."It's Snowing, It's Snowing". My mom and Cousin later told me thought our conversations that was exactly what I did. She said they all stood in the doorway watching me run around my grandmother's lilac tree.
It's funny now, becasue Lilac has always been my favorite flower and frangrance. Never knowing that my childhood memory that meant so much was held around a lilac tree.

The Beginning....

Well, for many years I have been interested in my family history and wanted to know where my roots started and how I got here. However, I never actually knew just how to start. While in a Family Law Class in College... my professor assigned us our Final Exam the first day of class. The assignment was to create a FAMILY TREE. I signed on to Ancestory.com and from there started with me and the family I knew of. I didnt find a lot of information by the end of the year, but had some.

Until last year, had put the family research on the back burner and not thought much about it. Here and there would think it would be nice to put all the pictures I had in an album, but never did. The I moved to Wichita Falls in 2007. One afternoon while on lunch break I called my grandmother to talk to her while waiting in line at McDonalds to place my lunch order. While talking with her, she informed me that my father had received a letter from (what I thought she said was my mother...whom I had not spoke to in 33 years). However, what she said was from my cousin. She stated who she was and who she was looking for and apologized if she had the wrong person. She understood if this was the correct person that if he chose not to give my sister and I the letter. However, my father had taken the letter to my grandmother and gave it to my sister and read it to me.

It took me two months to actually write and send her a letter in response. My first attemt sat in the door of my car till October of 2007. However, the second letter was written and I had my ex-mother-in law send it for me. I knew if I didn't have her do it, I never would. It was about 3 weeks later and I received a phone call while cooking dinner one evening and it was my Cousin from MI. We talked for ever it seemed. The following night after I had spoke to Rene (my cousin), I received a phone call from another unknown number... the caller id said it was from Michigan. I had a knot in my stomach and knew instantly it was my MOTHER. 33 years of emotions came flooding over me and not sure what to do or say I answered the phone. On the other end of the phone was a very distanct "YANKEE" accent and the words "ROBIN" do you know who this is? My reply was "YES"? And she asked me who and I told her my mom. Even thought it had been 33 years since I had spoke to her and I was now 38, I remembered the voice as if it were yesterday when I had heard it. That was on April 12th, 2007. We only spoke for a few seconds and she said her phone was dying and she would call me tomorrow. I knew in my heart that was not the truth. She like I was over whelmed with emotion and didn't truly know how to handle the moment. I hung up the phone and instantly called Rene back telling her I had just spoke to "My Mother".

I did not know weather or not I would ever here from her again. However, for just a moment my wish had come true and I had found my mom. The story behind our journey is long and not always so pleasant. However, for just a moment I had turned back into a little girl. My first actually conversation with my mom other than hello, was on Friday, April 13th while sitting in the "kamikaze" at the carnaval about to do something I shouldn't be doing she called. I couldn't answer the phone as the ride had put my body upside down about 20 feet or so in the air. "Couldn't actually answer screaming in here ear... HELP" I figured when I didn't answer she would think I didn't want to talk. However, once I got down and was able to walk, I manage to sit down and call her. We talked for a short time and I explained what I was doing and would call her when we got home.

For the next several months Rene, My Mom and I talked every night. Rene and I spent the time reliving my childhood memories that I had decided where dreams. However, in reality they did exsist. My mom and I spent the time getting to know each other and catch up on life. In OCTOBER of 2007 my cousin brought her family and my mom to TEXAS. At about 2am on October 19th my Family called and said they were in Wichita Falls and LOST. I woke from falling asleep on the couch waiting and told them I would be right there. For the first time in 33 years I was about to meet my mother all over again. And also for the first time, she was about to meet her grandchildren.

Thus begins my journey......