Tombstone Tuesday - Martha Ann Browning Cooley, and Bits and Pieces

It's Tombstone Tuesday and today I feature a tombstone that is close to my heart -- that of my aunt Martha Ann Browning.

Martha was born in Crawford Co., Illinois on 16 Oct 1934 to my grandparents Virgil Browning and Beulah Garrard.  She was their only child until my father came along in 1941. 

I've written in more detail about my aunt Martha 

and my feelings about her in a previous post about my grandmother's life.  You can read it here if you wish so I'll be brief.

Martha was a bright child and a rosy-cheeked girl.  She made friends easily and was the life of the party when she was around people.  She sang in the choir and when she was in high school, about 1952 or so, someone made a record of one of her songs that I think my father still has.  I've heard it and she had a beautiful singing voice.  Funny, my dad does too.  I wish I could say I inherited that!

She married Oral Oval Cooley on 7 Jun 1953 in Robinson in Crawford County.   All the pictures I've seen of the pair look like they were very much in love and my aunt Martha was all aglow.  She became pregnant at the age of 19 and gave birth to a son on 30 August 1955.  All was not well with her, though, and she began to show complications immediately after the birth.  She developed a fever and died at the Allen Sanitarium (a hospital in Robinson IL) three days later due to hemorraging from the birth.

I've posted my favorite picture of my aunt Martha here.  She is a real beauty.  I see my grandma and my dad in her and she's just....oh, I don't know.  Doesn't she just GLOW?  Her beauty is within. 

I wish I'd known her. 

Now to the bits and pieces:

I'll be going on a genealogical trip to Little Rock in a few days along with a friend of mine. Her great-grandfather was murdered there in 1929 and we'll be hitting all the sweet spots when we're there. We'll go to the Arkansas History Commission and the Arkansas County courthouse in Stuttgart. We hope to hit Dewitt (where the murder occurred) and maaaybe even make it to a cemetery or three. For my part, I will be investigating the Strickler family (one of my daughter's lines) who moved to Washington Co., AR from Sullivan Co., TN in the 1830's.  I hope to find some wills and other goodies.  Our daughters (both age 19) are coming with us so it'll be a girl's weekend as well!

My love affair with OneNote is in full swing. I'm putting records in there and seeing it all come together and I'm really liking it so far. I can feel that this will be a big bonus for my work.

I'm also in heaven -- I've recently found Ohio Probate Records online at Familysearch!!!!

None are indexed and the image count is sky-high but I've been spending my time going through each and every image in the counties of Harrison, Coshocton, Tuscarawas, Jefferson and Washington. As you can imagine this is a tedious and time consuming undertaking. Weeks even! But that's okay -- it must be done because there's no way I'll be getting to any of these counties soon (and even if I did, I'd have to spend days in the courthouses there pouring through the records!)

So -- if my presence is a bit spotty I'm not checking out of here, I'm hopefully adding more information to my arsenal.  I've already found some real gems in the OH records that I want to explore.

Oh, and ok....I've also experienced a D'OH moment of epic genealogical fail proportions, so much so that I don't even want to admit to it here for fear that I'll have to turn in my genealogist card and go sit in the back of the class.

*sigh* I'll make myself do it. Just not now. Haha!

Tombstone Tuesday - Eldridge Garrison Garrard

It's Tombstone Tuesday and that means we should post a picture of a tombstone but as you will see, I won't be posting one.

Tonight's subject is Eldridge Garrison Garrard.   He was born 3 Aug 1888 in Crawford Co., IL, and was the son of Robert Elbert Garrard and Louisa Adaline Eagleton.  Since Robert and Louisa are my grandma Beulah Ethel (Garrard) Browning's parents (and therefore my g-grandparents) this means Eldridge was my grandma's brother and my great-uncle.

I wish I had a tombstone picture to post for this little guy, but I don't.  He never had one.  It's a wonder anyone knows that he existed at all.

My grandma said that Eldridge was born with a cleft palate and that one cold January day in 1890, when he was almost two years old, Eldridge was toddling around in the house while his mother Louisa was doing her washing at the hearth.  He had climbed up on a chair, probably one that she had been sitting at doing her chores, and was bouncing on it in the way that babies do.  The chair tipped over and little Eldridge fell and hit his head on the edge of the stone fireplace.  Grandma said it took him a few days to die.

He died on the 18th of January, 1890, and was buried a few days after that in the Haskin Cemetery in Crawford Co., IL.  His gravesite is unmarked.

Grandma took me to the cemetery in 1995 and pointed to the patch of ground where Eldridge lies buried.  I have thought and thought about that today and have realized that I never took any photos of that area.  I am fairly certain I will remember where she pointed when I get back to the cemetery next summer.  At least I hope so.  My grandma is gone now.

My grandma would often tell me about her brother Eldridge. She never knew him -- he died ten years before she was born -- but I think she felt that she did and that he, like all her other siblings, was her brother.   Her parents certainly kept his memory alive and my grandma, in her turn, kept his memory alive that much longer by passing her memories down to me.

Sleep well, great uncle Eldridge.

Cecil(e)'s Letters - Say WHAT? A Mystery Solved...

For the last ten years since my beloved grandmother Beulah Ethel (Garrard) Browning died -- and for at least ten years before that -- there had been an ongoing mystery playing in my head about her younger years.  This 'mystery'  really wasn't much of a mystery.....not really......I thought I'd had it all figured out long ago.   The mystery part I always tried to fill in with 'details' was only because my grandmother never really shared too much information about it.

Hm.  I sound as clear as mud.  I should explain.

 As I've said in earlier posts, my grandparents were unusual for their times because they waited so long to marry.  My grandmother was 33 years old and my grandfather was 32 when they married in 1934.  They'd been seeing each other since 1927.  The Great Depression and responsibilities for taking care of other family members had extended their courtship.  Every time my grandma and I touched upon the subject of her relative spinsterhood and whether or not she'd had other boys she was sweet on before meeting and marrying my grandfather, she would steer the conversation away from particulars and just talk in rather sweeping generalities.  However, at some point the conversation would always come around to one name.  Cecil Buchanan.  Or at least that's how it always seemed to me.  I never asked much about him and I just put two and two together in my head and assumed that he was the boy that she'd liked and she didn't want to go into details.  Maybe because he'd broken her heart?  I didn't know...and honestly I didn't come right out and ask.  I just made the connections and filed the name away in my head.  I assumed I knew the story.

Yes, all the genealogists in the room are snickering behind their hands.  Don't think I can't hear you.

I've also stated before that I inherited my grandmother's cedar chest and her umpteen million boxes of pictures and letters and....stuff.  Well, imagine my surprise when I found a lock of strawberry blonde hair all tied up in a ribbon, dated 1917!  It's the lock of hair and the ribbon in the picture at the top of this post.  I was all excited when I found it.  It's got his name written on it, and a lock of his hair.....and his birthdate, and her birthdate.  Awwwwwww, how teenager-like and romantic!  Ah ha, I thought! Here's some solid proof that Grandma WAS sweet on him!

Some time later, in another box buried in her things, I came across two letters that Cecil had written.  One was postmarked 1920 from Bloomington, IN and the other 1923 from Mattoon, IL.  I read through them and they seemed rather warm and loving but also rather detached.  I thought that a bit strange, really, but how was I to know hoe young people courted in letters at the time?  Anyway, after reading them over again a few times I grew curiouser and curiouser and thought hey, I have him somwhere in 1920!  I should look him up in the census!

I don't know why I hadn't done it before.  It was one of those 'slip my mind' things, I guess.  But I sat down letters in hand and started looking him up in the census.

I found him fairly easily in the 1920 Bloomington, Monroe CO IN census:

But....wait.  What's that?   Do you see it?   I thought that Cecil was a boy and this one is a girl.  Grandma always pronounced it SEE-SIL and not SUH-SEAL so this Cecile?  Hm, I thought, that can't be right.  I know,  I'll search the 1910 and see where this Cecile is:

I found 'Cecile Buchanan' in the 1910, all right.....in Crawford Co., IL.  Huh.  Right where my grandma was living at the same time.  And what's that again?  A GIRL?  Again?  Once is a coincidence maybe, or a mistake, but twice?

Ok, I thought. Is it possible that the CECIL my grandma had always talked about, and the CECILE I was looking at here.....is it possible that my grandma was talking about her BEST FRIEND???

After another few days of poking about I was beginning to think just that.  I found Cecile's marriage to Hilbert Cox and found a picture of her tombstone on a Warrick Co IN site.  Attached to the picture was an email address. I sent an email to that address and waited with bated breath.  It didn't take me long to receive a reply and to begin a correspondence with a wonderful lady who is Cecile's granddaughter.  What was even more fun was that Cecile's daughter was still alive!

I shared a long and informative phone call with both of them and I was able to compare much of what was in the letters to what these lovely people already knew about their mother and grandmother.  I learned an interesting fact very quickly, though....even though they spell it Cecile, it's pronounced SEE-SIL.  I also finally learned who the Margaret Buchanan was who took one of my favorite pictures of my grandmother, walking home from school with a metal lunch pail in 1915. She was Cecile's younger sister.

The evidence is overwhelming.  Cecile and my grandmother were chums.  Friends.  They were friends from at least 1915 until 1923, the date of the last letter.  My grandma kept a lock of Cecile's hair and even though the birthdate written on it is wrong (Cecile was actually born in Feb 1900) the people mentioned in the letters reference both Cecile's family (Helen, Margaret, Grandma Dunlap, and Elba Mudhenk) and my grandmother's family (her mother Louisa and sister Julia.)  Their tone in the letters I mentioned above?  It all made sense now.

So the mystery of the identity of 'Cecil Buchanan' is finally solved.  There's just one more thing I wonder about.  Grandma must have known what I was thinking about her Cecil.  Why didn't my grandma set me straight?

The joke's on me, grandma.  I love you dearly, you sly devil, you.  I bet you're chuckling now.  Goodness knows I am.  Hahahah!

The Browning Series Part 3b, or Samuel Browning Hoy, the Young Soldier

Today I will share what I know about Samuel Browning Hoy, one of the sons of Julia Ann Browning and her husband, John Hoy. I hope you'll remember the Browning vs. Beck trial that I featured on my blog last year, but if you don't, take a look at the sidebar on the right. I promise you that you won't be bored reading the full case but just in case, here's a short summary: It was 1837. Julia was sixteen and had given birth to a son named Washington out of wedlock. She and her father accused James Beck and sued him for Bastardy, child support, and Trespass On The Case. It's a long case, with a famous lawyer (Edwin McMasters Stanton, later to become President Buchanan's Attorney General and President Lincoln's Secretary of War), likely a famous juror (Emanuel Custer, the father of General George!) and some fascinating insights into how differently trials were conducted then than they are now. It's a fascinating case and you should go read it now. Go, go, go!

Back now? Good! Okay, so some years after the trial (in 1843) Julia married John Hoy and their story was one I told here. This post is about their second child, Samuel Browning Hoy. Of all John and Julia's children, I know the most about him.

Samuel was born on the seventh day of July in 1848 in Harrison County, Ohio. He was living with his parents and his older brother William (b. c1846) and younger sister Josephine (b. Aug 1850) in Tuscarawas County, Ohio, in the 1850 census. Samuel's half-brother, Washington (the result of Julia's liaison with James Beck, b. Mar 1837) wasn't living with his mother and half-siblings; he was living with Julia's parents Samuel and Margaret (Markee) Browning.

Sometime between 1851-1855 the Hoys joined most of the rest of the Browning family relations and moved on to Crawford County, Illinois. The 1855 IL state census makes it appear that John Hoy had died, because Julia and her sons Samuel and William (by this time both Washington and Josephine were also dead) were again living with Julia's parents, Samuel and Margaret (Markee) Browning.

By 1860 Samuel's mother Julia had married again to James E. 'Melton' Legg and was living with him, his five children, and her nephew Elias Browning. You'd think she'd have her boys with her but that wasn't the case -- both William Hoy and Samuel Hoy, aged only 15 and 13 at the time, were once again living with their grandfather Samuel Browning and his second wife Sarah Ann (Bell) Gaddis Browning in Crawford County. (Samuel's first wife, and Samuel Browning Hoy's grandmother, Margaret, had died in 1856.)

The following year Samuel B. Hoy (perhaps along with his older brother William M.J.) moved with his grandfather and step-grandmother to Windsor in Shelby County, Illinois.  I'm not sure about William M.J.  If he did also move to Shelby County he'd returned to Crawford County before February of 1865, when he mustered into service in Company H of the 152nd Illinois Infantry out of he town of Palestine.  I'll mention William again in a moment.  Back to Samuel B.

When the Civil War started Samuel was thirteen and much too young to sign up immediately. He waited until 1864 (when he was 16) before he traveled to Mattoon, a city in Coles County about 15 miles northeast of Windsor. On 21 March 1864 he signed his volunteer enlistment papers, claiming that he was eighteen years old. He was assigned to the 54th Illinois Infantry, Union forces, and was told to muster in on the 30th. But on 28 March 1864, the veterans of the 54th Illinois Infantry were on furlough and had been ordered to reassemble in Mattoon. According to the Adjutant General’s Report, “an organized gang of Copperheads led by Sheriff O’Hair attacked some men of the Regiment at Charleston, killing Major Shubal York, Surgeon, and four privates, and wounding Colonel G. M. Mitchell. One hour later the Regiment arrived from Mattoon and occupied the town, capturing some of the most prominent traitors.” Copperheads were also known as Peace Democrats and were a group of anti-abolitionist Midwesterners.

Two days later, on 30 March 1864, Samuel mustered into Company F. His muster papers say he had sandy hair and gray eyes and was 5' 10".  That's pretty tall for a boy his age!  Anyway, his regiment was immediately on the march and the young Samuel could not keep up. During the march Samuel began growing lame in his left foot. The company moved to Duvall’s Bluff and Clarendon and fought General Shelby, and in time Samuel’s lame foot degenerated into a running sore with small bones working their way out of the upper front part of the foot. The foot prevented him from marching and he had to be hauled in an ambulance part of the way back to Duvall’s Bluff. He was given light duty for the remainder of his service. His regiment was then assigned to guard a section of the Memphis and Little Rock railroad. Many of his regiment were captured during a battle near the railroad, but Samuel’s company was spared.

I said I'd mention Samuel B.'s older brother, William M.J.  As I said earlier, William had also joined the war, mustering into service out of Palestine in Crawford County, IL, in February of 1865.  According to the muster and descriptive rolls of Company H, William was 6’0” with dark hair, dark eyes and a dark complexion.  His regiment was assigned to duty as a railroad guard for the Nashville & Chattanooga Railroad until July of 1865.  A month before that, on 2 June 1865, William died of an unknown disease (most likely smallpox) in Tullahoma, Tennessee.  I haven't ever been able to locate his burial.

On 20 August 1865, two months before he mustered out, Samuel was hospitalized for chronic diarrhea in the General Hospital in Little Rock, Arkansas. He was released for duty on 28 August 1865. Samuel mustered out on 15 October 1865 and was discharged at Camp Butler on 26 October 1865.

Sometime after his discharge Samuel went to a party at the home of Cornelius Stephenson of Robinson. According to Charles F. Huls and Sarah Ann (Huls) Browning, the spouses of Samuel’s first cousins Margaret Ann Browning and Thomas Nevitt Browning (children of James Browning), Samuel did not dance because of his lame foot but walked with a cane. Samuel was employed by Martin B. Woodworth between 1866 and 1870 as a day laborer. Martin also employed Effie Emmaline Browning (Samuel’s first cousin and the daughter of Samuel J. Browning) as a domestic servant. Samuel worked for Martin out in the fields but Martin claimed Samuel would “frequently give out on account of his lame foot.”

Samuel married Emily Ellen McCarter, the daughter of Samuel G. McCarter and Polly Ann Cannon, on 11 September 1875 in Crawford County. Emily was born on 5 July 1851 in Crawford County. Samuel and Emily Ellen settled in Montgomery Township in Crawford County and had four children (John, Charley, Lillie and Oscar.) In the mid-1880’s Samuel pursued a soldier’s pension, which was granted, and Samuel and Emily spent the remainder of their married lives in Heathsville and Flat Rock in Montgomery Township.

Emily died on 2 February 1930 in Flat Rock and was buried on 4 February 1930. After Emily’s death, Samuel went to live with his son John William Hoy. John, who never married, took care of Samuel for the remainder of his life.

Here's where it gets interesting. When he took Samuel in to take care of him John William applied for an increase in pension for Samuel and during the filing, documents were prepared that seemed to support Samuel’s original statements to his recruiting officer that he had been eighteen years of age at the time of his enlistment. I have copies of Samuel's original soldier's pension files and one of the documents within is a copy of his enlistment papers. This document, signed in March of 1864, specifically states that Samuel was eighteen (which would place his birth in 1845-6.) These documents, along with Samuel’s typed state death certificate and the typed county clerk’s copy of his death certificate, give his year of birth as 1845.

However, I also have his original death certificate. It is handwritten. Take a look at the listed date of birth. Don't you think there is clearly a numeral "8" underneath that numeral “5”? I do.

While it is possible that Samuel had been born in 1845 there is stronger evidence to make a case for the 1848 date. In the 1850 census Samuel was two years of age; in the 1860 census he was thirteen. On the birth certificate of his second child, Charles (born in March 1879) he stated he was thirty years of age. At the birth of his third child, Amy Lillian (born in March 1881) he claimed he was thirty-two years old. As these birth certificates were prepared at the time of the event and not years afterward (as his pension documents were) only one conclusion can safely be drawn: I think that Samuel or his relatives desired to protect his youthful decision to claim lawful age at the time of enlistment (not to mention making sure that the government couldn't demand his pension money back for lying on his enlistment papers!) In reality, Samuel was not yet sixteen years old when he entered into service in the Civil War.

Samuel died on 3 April 1931 in Flat Rock in Crawford County and was buried on 5 April 1931. Both he and Emily are buried in the Robinson New Cemetery in Robinson Township in Crawford County, Illinois.

Small Corrections to the Thomas N. Browning family!

I am currently out of pocket taking care of my mother, who's recovering from spinal surgery. I haven't had much time to spare to dedicate to genealogy (especially since I've no access to any of my databases and paperwork) but I did manage to find enough down time to locate a few obituaries via the Google News Archive Search.

If you've never used it, head on over there and try it out! There are a lot of newspapers and date ranges to pick from and I was lucky enough to find most issues of the weekly Robinson Constitution (Crawford Co., IL) available from 1877-1919. This newspaper has given me a number of obituaries and brief Browning mentions and I wanted to share a few of these. I've found I needed to do a few small corrections for the Thomas Newton Browning family I mentioned in my last post.

In the 27 December 1899 edition I found the obituary of Thomas Clifford Browning. I was reading through it and was surprised and chagrined to see that Cliff hadn't died where I always believed he had! The obituary stated he had "lung trouble" and had moved to San Antonio, TX to see if the climate would be of benefit to him. Obviously it didn't. His remains were shipped from San Antonio to the Crown Hill cemetery in Indianapolis for the burial on 24 December 1899. I got excited and boogied on over to FamilySearch's Texas Deaths 1890-1976 database hoping to find Cliff's death certificate but I wasn't able to locate it. Bleh!

In my original chronological post I'd mentioned that Cliff died in Indianapolis, IN. That was a guesstimate on my part and I willingly stand up and offer my back for the prerequisite 40 whacks! (In my defense, Cliff had been shown in an 1899 Indianapolis city directory and he'd been buried in Crown Hill in the city, so generally.....well, you know the rest.) Lesson definitely learned.

I also found his sister Leola (Browning) Paramore's obituary in the 17 October 1900 edition. She, too, died of lung trouble....consumption, or tuberculosis as it's called today. She died on 10 October 1900 in Indianapolis (this time the obituary and my records agree!) and was buried in the Crown Hill cemetery in Indianapolis on the 11th.

Add these two to the first of the Browning deaths out of infancy -- Iona Lee, in 1896. Iona's obituary states she died at age 19 after an extended illness...consumption.

I was glad to find these two obituaries but disturbed to notice the trend of deaths in Thomas and Sarah Ann (Huls) Browning's family. Of their seven children (Effy May, Ralph Hansen, Leola, Iona Lee, Thomas Clifford, Roscoe, and Alta Mearl) three of them died of lung troubles. Effy May and Roscoe died as infants. Only Ralph and Alta lived long enough to have children of their own and of those, only Ralph actually did.

My Grandmother's Life, Pt. 6 - The Winter Years

(See HERE for previous posts in this series...)

After Aunt Martha's death in 1955 it was just my father and my grandparents. My dad finished high school and then decided to enlist in the army in 1960. He was stationed in Germany for 3 years and after he got out he moved to Chicago, where he met and married my mother in 1964. I was born a few years later and my brother a few years after that. We lived in Chicago until the mid-70's, when we moved to Robinson and lived there for four years before finally moving to north central Texas.

For my grandparents life went on at the old home place. The home place had originally been a three-room house with an outhouse but grandma and grandpa had slowly added on to it as their family had grown. I have a datebook that grandma kept from 1954-1960 (and sporadically after that) and it states that they added an addition to the living room in 1951 and finished the upstairs (expanding it from one room to two) in 1953. My grandmother also wanted indoor plumbing and my mom says that grandpa balked about that for years but finally grandma got her way, winning the battle of the outhouse in the early 70's. By the time I ran around the house playing, in the mid-70's, there was a small bathroom right off the kitchen and the outhouse was all boarded up.

That was the way grandma was, though. She didn't say much for the most part, and pretty much let my grandfather run things, but when she did want something or had just had enough of something, she usually got her way. Grandpa knew very well to relent the few times that grandma pitched a fit or put her foot down. They worked well together that way.

By the 80's, though, my grandparents were both in their 80's. My mom and dad and my brother and I had moved to north central Texas, my grandmother's siblings had all died and my grandfather's only living brother was also living in north central Texas. Getting through the Illinois winters was growing more difficult for my grandparents and grandma was tired of being away from her son. Grandma wanted to move to Texas. Grandpa? Well, he had his roots in Illinois soil and he didn't want to leave.

Of course you can guess what happened. They went to Texas!

They had a huge sale before they left Robinson and sold a lot of the old things that were in the house. I didn't realize how much history they'd sold until many years thereafter and even now, thinking about it, it makes me sigh in resignation. I was too young to know what all that would someday mean to me and grandma would say not to cry over spilled milk. I just hope that whoever bought all that old stuff appreciates it like I would if it were mine. Anyway, grandma told me once that a few years after they moved to Texas, grandpa told grandma that he wanted to go on back home. Grandma said she told him, "Virgil, you are welcome to go back to Robinson whenever you want, but you'll have to go on alone."

Grandpa stayed.

It was a good thing they did. Grandpa got sick from leukemia in late 1988 and died in December 1989. I tell that story in the first installment of this series, HERE.

I have so many other memories of my grandmother during those years she lived with my dad after my grandfather's death. Smiling with her at her 100th birthday party, surrounded by her family, and asking her how it felt to be 100 and laughing at her answer: "The same as it felt to be 99."

I also remember that grandma would watch every time my mom came home from the store, looking to see if they'd bought her a refill on her favorite Brach's butterscotch candies. She had a bell that sat by her chair in her room that she would ring if she needed anything. I remember her laugh and her tiny, hoarse sounding voice that was music to my ears. I loved the way her eyes would sparkle when I'd come into her room and visit.

I especially remember her when I was pregnant with my own daughter in the early 90's. She would pat my belly and tell me to take care of myself and I knew that she was hiding the worry she felt and reliving those times with my Aunt Martha in her head. My dad was doing the same. My parents brought my grandma up with them when I went into labor and he, my mom, and my mother in law sat outside the entire 12 hours smoking up a storm in their nervousness. Goodness, the three of them probably created an entire ozone layer on their own!

It was wonderful to lay my daughter in my grandmother's arms. I treasure the picture above. I treasure the fact that my grandma not only lived long enough to forge a relationship with me but also lived long enough so that my own daughter will always be able to remember her "great-nah-nee." I miss her every day and I will go to my own grave missing her.

She had a very long and wonderful life. I am so very privileged to have called her Grandma.

My Grandmother's Life, Pt. 5 - Joy And Tragedy

For previous posts in this series:

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4

We are up to the part of the story where my grandparents and their young daughter Martha Ann were a happy little family in Robinson, Crawford Co., IL, in the late 30's. The Depression years were over and though times were hard, they weren't as hard as those that had come before. My grandparents owned a house and a good amount of land and had a wonderful little girl to raise. Life was hard but simple and times seemed pretty good for them then.

Then, when my Aunt Martha was about four years old, in late August 1938, tragedy struck their little family. I've written about it all here but I'll briefly recap it again. My grandma and her family were eating dinner with her mother and father, Robert Elbert and Louisa Adaline (Eagleton) Garrard, at their house in Robinson. After dinner grandpa Robert went on outside to the outhouse and on his way back was struck by a runaway car that had rolled over the lawn. Grandma told me many years later that her father, aged 85 at the time, had suffered internal injuries and that it took him a few hours before he passed away.

A few years later, in late 1940, my grandmother and grandfather were surprised when my grandma realized she was pregnant. It had been nearly seven years since she'd had their daughter Martha Ann with no pregnancies in between and I imagine Grandma had just figured Martha was it for them. She was 40, after all! Life, however, has a funny way of giving you what you need -- even when you don't realize that you will at the time.

Grandma told me about my father's birth many times. She said she was frightened when she learned she was pregnant and had nightmares about not being able to carry to term or of dying during the birth. She said these fears were difficult to deal with when she begun to feel sickly midway through her pregnancy. Her doctor told her she'd become anemic. Who knows if she was truly anemic, if she had what we now call toxemia, or perhaps she even had gestational diabetes. Whatever it was, grandma said she felt weak and miserable for most of her pregnancy. I can only imagine how she dreaded giving birth.

These fears were magnified about eight months in when she caught the flu. She was already weak enough and the flu put the so-called icing on the cake. She was bedsick and weak and soon to deliver. A neighbor lady, Kay Badgley, came to my grandma's rescue. She stayed with grandma and took care of her while she was sick and was there to help grandma through giving birth. Grandma told me that Kay saved her life by both assisting in my father's delivery and making sure that grandma herself did not succumb to either the flu or to any complications of childbirth. My grandmother was so grateful to the woman that saved her life that she acknowledged her by giving her son -- my father -- the name Kay as his middle name.

I hear Dad hated it with a passion when he was a teenager. Hah!

My father was born in the spring of 1941 just as World War II broke out overseas. Later on that year my grandparents woke up one morning, a morning that was also my grandfather's 40th birthday, and heard horrible news on the radio. Pearl Harbor had been attacked. World War II had started for us.

The war years were full ones for my grandma and her family. Work was hard to come by. I remember grandma saying that grandpa worked for the WPA for a time but I am not sure now of the dates. When grandpa got a job in Sidney (in Shelby County, Ohio) working in a machine factory where they made tools for the war the family moved to Sidney and lived there for about three years (c1942-1945.) I recently discovered that Grandma's brother Ralph Garrard had also moved to Sidney, something that grandma never told me. I wonder whether Ralph had moved there first and secured my grandfather a position, or was it the other way around? I don't know. Nevertheless, when grandma's mother Louisa died in a old folk's facility in Alton IL in 1944, grandma and her brother were in Sidney.

Grandma and grandpa and their two children moved back to Robinson and settled once more in the old home place. The next ten years saw them raise their children and see Martha get married to her sweetheart Oral in June of 1953. By the beginning of 1955 my dad was attending his first year of high school and his sister Martha was pregnant with her first child.

Things couldn't have been sweeter for grandma and grandpa, but then tragedy struck again. Martha gave birth to her son in August of 1955 but began to have complications almost immediately. Grandma told me that the doctors let her lay there instead of attending her. She was slowly hemorraging; she developed an infection that caused puerperal fever and she hemorraged to death three days after her son was born. She was 20 years old.

Martha's death devastated my grandparents. I never got the chance to ask my grandfather about it because he'd passed away before I began my genealogical quest in earnest, but I know how deeply Martha's death affected my grandmother. The journal entries and notes that I have from her during this time period reveal that. I've often looked at the picture to the left (which I believe was taken just around the time of Martha Ann's death) and studied the tired, drawn looks that both my grandparents are wearing. They look like all the joy in them had been sucked away. As a mother myself to a daughter very close to Martha's age, I cannot imagine. Well, take that back. I can imagine, and even that makes my stomach clench and my throat tighten up. I'd rather not imagine, much less experience.

Even now, though I never actually knew my Aunt Martha Ann, I feel as if I have because she's always been a part of my life. Grandma's cedar chest holds mementos of her life. Martha's high school diploma, a pair of glasses she wore, pictures and a compact mirror she kept in her purse, pieces of her writings, old report cards....the list goes on. I have seen Martha's image so many times and heard her spoken of so often that her living self feels ingrained in my sense-memory, as if I've been face to face with her in the real world. Does that sound strange? It doesn't feel like it, if it matters. My conversations with my grandmother were never without her and I suppose that helped implant her in my head. Besides, Martha Ann's son -- my cousin -- is an absolutely fantastic man and my favorite cousin in the whole wide world. Grandma told me once that his jolly attitude about life reminded her constantly of Martha, so not only do I have her face to look at and my grandmother's memories to bring her to life, but I have a reflection of who she was in her son. My aunt died a decade before I was born, but I had her around anyway.

One last thought before I close for today. I mentioned earlier that life tends to take care of you and give you what you need even when you don't realize that it is. My grandmother wasn't trying, wanting or expecting a second child -- but she got one anyway. I have often wondered if my dad came along because life knew that my grandmother would need that extra child, and not just in the wake of her daughter's death. My dad took care of his parents during their winter years and my grandmother lived with them in the last years of her life. Of course I'm glad they had him because neither I nor my own daughter would exist without it! But if they hadn't had him and Martha had died? They would have truly been all alone. I'm glad it didn't end up that way.

Next time I'll wrap it all up.

My Grandmother's Life, Pt. 3 -- In Letters

My grandmother and grandfather met in 1927. I've spoken in earlier blog posts about their courtship and I repeat the significant paragraph of that here for the sake of continuity:

"My grandparents weren't common for the times. Instead of marrying early as so many others did, they were an 'older' couple; they didn't begin dating until 1927 (when Grandma was 26) and didn't marry until 1934. The Depression began in 1929 and my grandfather was the sole means of support for his grandma (Eliza Ursula (Nichols) Swan) and great auntie (Ursula's sister, Missouri Ann Nichols, who never married.) Times were tough all over. Grandma and grandpa decided to "wait it out." Wait it out they did, though by 1933 grandpa's idea of waiting was apparently much different than grandma's! Grandma told me she said to grandpa one evening, "Virgil, I reckon if I let you, you'll wait forever, and I don't aim to wait much longer. I'm not a young woman and if we don't get on and get married, I'll have to be moving along." They got married a few months later!"

The details of their courtship are largely gone with grandma now. I asked her a couple of things about her and grandpa but the one thing I never did ask was precisely how they met. I wish I had. Maybe they didn't 'meet' so much as just knew each other since both were from the same small rural community. I guess I'll never know now, unless my father does. What I can put together, though, is a snippet of the timeline for the progression of their courtship. I have a set of letters that grandma saved, letters that grandpa wrote to her during the years before they finally married in January of 1934. These letters definitely show how their relationship progressed.

The first letter was written by my grandfather Virgil Joseph Browning in July of 1928. Grandpa wrote it to grandma because she and her friends Hope and Elmer Rich had decided to go 'south.' Grandma told me of this trip a few times over the course of her talks with me and luckily during my recent searches I found a four-page 'trip diary' that she'd written during the trip on notebook paper. She and her friends traveled to Asher, Oklahoma from Robinson, IL -- a trip of about 700 miles. They left on 28 Jun 1928 and returned on 14 July 1928 and each leg of the trip took them almost three days by car each way. The car? - a 1926 Model T Tudor!

Grandpa wrote grandma the following letter:

Robinson, Ill 7/28 My Dear Beulah, I recieved your letter Thursday eve. Say Miss you are having a fine time I bet. Oh it is hot here to day too hot to go in the sun very near. I went to a party last night at Russelville had a pretty good time to Lots of girls ha ha Well how are you kid don't let the Indians get you, no danger what? I went to Gordon last Sund. night in stead of to your church. Frank told me you people had gone south Sat. night. I hope this letter gets ther before you leave Asher I think it will. We had some Ice cream yesterday here at home it sure was good cant you taste it, Banana flaver too. Well I hope you have a good time while there and good luck on the road back. I must close and go to work so I can go to town to night. Hoping to see you soon, write if you can. Your Friend Virgil

I find this first letter interesting. Grandpa meant enough to her at the time for her to save the letter but there isn't much in its tone to suggest how far their relationship had progressed from simply liking each other to going steady. I don't know how long they'd been seeing each other at this time....6 months? 8 months? But it was long enough for him to write her a letter and send it all the way to Oklahoma!

The second set of letters I have was written on the 27th and the 29th of September 1929. Grandpa was taking a trip down to Tulsa. He wrote from Joplin MO on the 27th and from Shawnee OK on the 29th. Grandpa mentions his uncle in the letter of the 29th and he is referring to Finley Duncan, who was married to Ida May Browning. Ida was my great-grandfather Frederick Leone Browning's sister. The Duncans lived in Tulsa from 1920-1930, at least.

Joplin Mo Friday 27 Dearest Beulah I will write you a few lines and tell you the trip I just got through fixing a tire had a tack in it fixed one yesterd cut on glass say there is some hills in around Rolla kid I wish you had been along I am writing from a camp haven't started yet on my way bout 150 miles to go yet There sure is some real places to hunt and fish down here I saw 3 squirrel just about 5 minutes ago I hope I don't have any more trouble. dear dont get sick or hurt and dont cry much for me, ha ha. I know you won't though well sweet heart I spec I better close and go on well be yourself and keep sweet for I love you. Virgil I will write you from Tulsa or where ever I am at.

---

Sept 29, 1929 Dearst Beulah Well dear girl I will write you a little letter. I am at Shawnee, Okla now it is time to go to bed but I am a night hawk you know Well I never had any more trouble but the two flat tires. I got in the city of Tulsa the night after I wrote you and to Roy Sat evening. did you thing I had forgot to write. Well how are you all by now I am kind of lonesome tonight for you dear but you are 700 miles away. We will start home this week some time it may be Sunday night or later or before I get home. I went to the show with my uncle in Tulsa a good show It was good. The folks are kiding me about my red head girl ha ha. Well red head you are my girl let them kid me I don't care sweetheart do you Well kid don't get lonesome. I don't like this red dirt ore this country very well part of it is prect good the rest is worse. Well sweet girl I must close I ges and go to bed I am sort of tired out. Look for me when you see me girl of mine I am lonsome for you. XXoo XXoo Virgil I may drop you a card on the way

It had now been about a year and a half since the two of them had begun dating. It was likely quite serious by this time and you can definitely tell this by the tone in grandpa's letters. He tells her in the first one that he loves her -- the first time he's said that in any of the letters so far.

I also love how he mentions that my grandmother was a redhead! I know that her uncle Finn Eagleton was a redhead, and my dad was, and my brother and I am, and now my own daughter. I never saw my grandmother with red hair because there aren't any existing color photos of her with it (though the one taken in 1927 at the top of this post is the closest I've seen, I can imagine a burnished copper or auburn!) and she was in her 70s before I can even remember her. By that time her hair was the most gorgeous fine-spun silver. I can only hope my hair goes the same way!

A month before the writing of this next letter, in May of 1930, my grandparents posed for a picture on the steps of a local house. You can see it to the left.

June of 1930 is the next letter that I have. Grandpa had been carted away by a few friends of his to Russellville to shuck corn and apparently hadn't had time to let grandma know. He made sure to send her a letter! The tone of this one is warm and loving and his pet names and loving thoughts for her are clear.

Vincennes or Russelville. June 23/30 Dear Sweetheart. Well are you peived at me for coming away so long or not I left on short notice {Paul?}and Roy Cohourn the man I have been shooking wheat for came after me. I told the folks to let you know did they I am going to stay till sat I ges Roy's brother wants me to shok for him to when I get through here I'll get throu tomorrow I ges. say it has been lonesome here for me I wanted to come home sat night but could not did not have any way I wanted to see you little woman the worst kind. was you lone some for me I bet you was. well if you see any of my people tell them when I think I will be there. It has been awful hot the last todays has it not. say dearest girl have you had your wenine [weinie] roast yet. I bet I will lose out on it say it is warm enough to get that new bathing suit wet isn't it the water is fine for it tried it the other day did not get any bathing suit wet either. ha ha. I went to Vincennes sat night with the folks here sure a big crows there. well do not cry or fret or sigh for you know I will be home some of these days to see you and hold your dear sweet self in my arms dear girl I love you. by Virgil

We are now smack dab in Depression times. I asked grandma many times about this era of her life and she would always tell me a story or two about it. I don't remember all of them -- to my deep chagrin -- but I do remember that grandma told me once that she remembered a fellow coming up her parent's driveway one evening around 1930 begging for the opportunity to do any labor there was to do for nothing more than a good meal. She said she went inside and fixed the man a supper of fried potatoes and eggs (the only thing she really had readily available) and that he did some work around the farm in return.

Grandma often said that although times were hard for she and her family she also felt lucky that in her rural farming community it didn't make as much of an impact upon her as it did in more urban areas. She still raised crops and canned and pickled and fed herself. It was harder to make money and to buy commodities. She made do and stretched foodstuffs, clothing and household products as far as she could. This sort of stretching made an impact on her for her entire life, though I don't think it was just a result of the Great Depression and more because she had been taught thrift since she was old enough to walk. I would smile to myself in my 20s when I saw her carefully wash and wipe aluminum foil clean and fold it up and tuck it into a paper bag reserved for the purpose. She'd do the same to plastic bags. Nothing was disposable to her the first time around. I smile thinking about that now but for a different reason than I did back then. Then it was because I marveled at what I thought was a time waster -- why do that when you could just throw them away and buy more, it's what they were made for! Now I smile because it reminds me of my own naivety and because I reflect on how wasteful I am myself.

At the time of the letters so far (1927-1930) my grandfather and his younger brother Emerson were living with and taking care of their grandmother Ursula and their Auntie Zura (Missouri.) Emerson was a carpenter and fixed things around town and grandpa worked hard to provide for them. He went wherever he could find work, which sometimes meant he'd hitch a ride with some friends and go shuck corn or bring in other crops as needed. He was a mechanic and a farmer his whole life. In 1930 he was 28 years old.

In February 1931 his grandmother Ursula died and that left him responsible for only his aunt Missouri. Now at some point between June of 1930 and the date of the next letter in December of 1932 my grandfather had finally proposed to my grandmother:

Brocton Ill Dec 7/32 Dearest Wife to be. I will drop you a few lines to let you know how I am I am all ok it Rained a big rain last night thunder and lightning a regular summer storm. we did not work yesterday or to day. We will in the morning. will be home sat night Frank said he thought so. We won't get done by then though well sweet I will see you then and get to take my sweet girl in my arms and look deep in your sweet eyes for you know that is the most wonderful thing, to know you are my one and only I love you kid and am proud of you. Well Frank is going to town so I will go and mail this By By dear Pal I'll see you. Virgil

This letter is postmarked Brocton, which is a small town in Edgar County, IL. It looks like grandpa was there doing some work with a man named Frank. I don't know who this man is. He might be a relative but if so I haven't narrowed it down yet.

Anyway, grandma told me that she was frustrated at grandpa for not marrying her sooner and said that he told her that he didn't want to marry her yet because it was too difficult for him to try to support her as well as his aged grandmother and auntie. By 1932, though, his grandmother had passed away and half of his excuse for not marrying had been laid aside. Grandma said she didn't really see the difficulty in having her around the house and said she would have been happy to help him provide and care for his aunt but that's not how things seemed to be working out. Grandpa, she said, was the sort of man to put things off as long as he could and that she would have to prod him at certain points during their many years together. I don't have any doubts about the truth of this statement! My grandpa was a man slow to do much anything and just went about life at his own pace for sure.

The last letter I have in my collection is dated June 1933 and addressed to her on S. Irving St., Chicago, IL. I did a doubletake at that for a while, trying to figure out why grandma would have been in Chicago (was she living there?) and then finally remembered! Grandma had mentioned a few times that she'd travelled to Chicago to visit the World's Fair and when I started doing some research I realized she'd attended the 1933 Chicago World's Fair, the one they called A Century of Progress International Exposition. I guess this letter was one grandpa sent her in reply to a letter she'd sent him upon her arrival in the Windy City. The World's Fair was an incredible thing for its time and I bet my grandma saw many wondrous things.

June/8/33 Robinson Ill. Dear Beulah. I received your letter and was surprised some. I'll say, I tould you I might not come wed nite soo I didn't and was going Thru. but the letter beat me to it. Well I hope you have a good time and see lots of sites while you are there. I have been plowing and planting corn when I could it is been so hot you could not hardly keep the horses going. Mr. Collins [william Collins, next door neighbor] killed one of his horses today some body said, got it to hot. Well I am tired to night honey so I ges I will close this scribble. Well have a good time and don't get hurt or run over cause you know I want to see you again. I would have liked to went along but I was broke. well by by I will see you Wed night maby. as ever yours lots of love and kisses xoox Virgil P.S. I love you

Three months later in September of 1933 grandpa would lose his Auntie Missouri. I suspect that it was about this time that grandma finally let grandpa know that she wasn't going to wait about much longer since she was almost 33 and had been his fiancee for about a year by this point. I know that she was serious -- she told me many times she made it clear she was -- and within a few months grandpa had taken her across the Indiana border to Vincennes on a cold 3rd of January 1934 and made her his bride.

Next time....their married lives and their family.

My Grandmother's Life, Pt 2.

I continue today with the story -- only the roughest of edges, for how can I ever hope to fully tell the story of a woman who saw over 100 years? -- of what I know of the life of my grandmother, Beulah Ethel (Garrard) Browning.

I was thinking about this all day at work and began to remember things that I'd forgotten, small vignettes my grandma shared over the course of our closest years. She loved that I asked about her life and she loved sharing those memories; her eyes would light up and her normally soft voice would grow stronger. I think it was because she had lived so long. She told me once, in response to a question I had about how long she'd lived, that she sometimes disliked it because she'd had to watch everyone she knew and loved as a girl, a young woman, a friend, a mother and a wife -- die. She had strong faith in God, though, and would tell me she believed that God had His purpose for giving her years and she was not one to question His wisdom. As I said in my last entry, I am so very glad those years were hers and mine.

But back to her story and some of the things I remembered.

I own her cedar chest. The chest was given to her in 1932 by her then-beau and later husband, my grandfather Virgil Joseph Browning. In it she kept mementos of her life and I scurried back to open it and look through some of those while telling her story. I believe the things in that chest all meant enough to her to keep them and I will try to tell the stories of as many of those items as I can. Here are some of them.

This picture is of a tea set that Mrs. Mary Hoke presented to my grandmother as a Christmas present in 1909. This tea set is so delicate and tiny! Each little cup is the size of my thumb. I remember grandma saying she adored that set and played with it often, being very mindful to wrap each item carefully when she was finished playing with it. Until today, when I went to take this picture, I had never seen it unwrapped myself. The entire set has always been stored in a wooden matchbox holder and wrapped in tissue. Accompanying the set is a small handwritten note detailing when she received it and by whom. When I unwrapped if for this picture I found, however, that one little saucer is missing. That's too bad! Otherwise it's a beautiful little set and I can see my grandma playing with it and valuing it for its delicacy.

So grandma's school years came and went. When she was 16, in 1917, her older brother Raymond Orlond Garrard went off to France to serve in World War I. The picture here was taken that year and shows her in a gorgeous white dress. I think she looks young and fresh and splendid, don't you? She wrote Raymond letters and wrote other servicemen as well. I used those letters to trace one of the serviceman she wrote and I managed to get those letters back to his descendants! I've told grandma's story about those times before here on my blog and if you're interested (including seeing a picture of her wearing her brother's uniform!) you can go here and also here.

Another interesting item is a tiny Methodist Episcopal Hymnal. Copyrighted 1850 Cincinnati and published by Swormstedt & Power, Corner of Main and Eighth-Sts, R.P. Thompson, Printer," the front page of this book (in my grandmother's handwriting) says "Presented to Beulah Garrard by Auntie Allison, aged about 89 years this Sept 29, 1920, been in her possession for at least 65 years." This book also has, in another person's handwriting, the name "Mary Jane Willson." I found a Mary Allison, aged 90 in the 1920 census, living in Crawford County. I'm pretty sure she's the "Auntie Allison" that my grandmother received the hymnal from. More research necessary!

By the time she was 22 in 1923 she and her best girlfriend Gwendolyn Norton (who later married a Hackett) decided they needed to go to Olney in Richland County, Illinois, and work at a shoe factory. They boarded with the parents of a Mr. Eska Russell while working there because, grandma said, it wasn't proper for two young women to be on their own! In the picture here she is holding her hat and looks for all the world like a girl home to visit from making her own way. She worked there for a year or so, boarding with two separate families -- the Russells, parents of Eska Russell, and the Routsons -- before coming home sometime in the fall of 1925. I know this because another item in the chest was a unique cup that my grandmother called a moustache cup. She gave it to her father Robert as a christmas present in 1925. She couldn't find one to buy so she obtained it from Mrs. Routson, according to the notes I took.

Between 1924-1926 my grandmother was seeing a boy named Cecil Buchanan. I have quite a few letters from him to her and whenever she mentioned his name she said it in a way that told me that he was a special boy to her at the time. (Update:  Cecil ended up to be Cecile, one of her best GIRL friends!  Go read the funny story about how I learned that little fact.) But somewhere in there they broke up and my grandmother met another boy, one named Virgil.

Next time....her life after meeting my grandfather.

My Grandmother's Life, Pt. 1

Today is a celebration of a life.

My grandmother, Beulah Ethel (Garrard) Browning, died 8 years ago yesterday. If she were living she would be almost 110 years old.

My thoughts today have been all about her and I wanted to spend this day with her, in thought and spirit if not in body, so I've spent the day scanning in photos of her from the vast collection of old photos she bequeathed me upon her death. During the scanning I was struck by the thought that she was literally growing up in front of my eyes even though she did that growing up 100 years ago.

I don't know if I've ever shared how I got started in genealogy. In 1988/early 1989 my grandfather Virgil Joseph Browning was diagnosed with leukemia and my father quit his job and moved to the small town my grandparents were living in (the same town, it so happens, that I was also living in.) At that time I was in my early 20's and had just begun to date the man who was to become my (now ex-) husband. I was in college and had a social life and a job and things to do and the last thing in the world I wanted was to spend time with my grandparents, who were both in their late 80's. In my youthful naivety that sixty year difference was a vast chasm.

My grandpa passed away in December 1989. My dad stayed on for a few months to make sure his mother was all right and went back home (a city an hour away.) His mother -- my grandma Beulah -- had just turned 89 and would now live alone in a little apartment. My parents made it clear that I was responsible for checking on her daily because I only lived a short drive away. I balked at this but I had always been a dutiful daughter so I did as I was told, though I admit I scheduled our visits early in the morning so I could spend as little time as possible there before I could claim I had things to do. Thinking upon this selfishness from my current perspective, I am ashamed. I never once thought how my grandmother felt, being alone in that small apartment she'd shared without the man who had been with her for nearly 60 years. The loneliness she must have endured I can only imagine, but she never shared any of it with me when I visited. Instead she would fix me breakfast -- one fried egg, a piece of toast, a cup of coffee with cream. We would sit at the small two-seat dinette in her tiny kitchen.

I'd watch her putter around making the meal and I would be casting my eyes around the room into the small closet in the corner. I would always see an interesting metal cooler with a Coca-Cola emblem and my natural curiosity would kick in. She'd serve the meal and we'd stare at each other and search for things to talk about. I think that search (and my questions about the contents of the metal cooler -- family pictures) was what spurred my grandmother into telling me stories of her parents, her grandparents, the people she'd known, the places she'd seen. Her life. And because she told those stories and shared her life, she showed me that she wasn't just some old lady on the periphery of my life. She was real, and interesting, and she had lived. We were family. It didn't take long before I didn't come to visit her and sit there thinking about how fast I could politely leave. I came because I enjoyed her and my time with her.

She was 89 then. She lived until she was 101 and only the last six months of her life were not quality ones. At her 100th birthday party she was laughing and enjoying herself. A stroke soon thereafter took her away from us and it was downhill from there. She died today, eight years ago.

I cannot express how lucky I feel that I was able to have my grandmother for those years. If those years were given to her in part so that she and I could have the chance to become as close as we did then I can only be humbled in gratitude for them. I wouldn't be the genealogist I am today without her. I wouldn't be the woman I am today without her.

I have regrets concerning her. Of course I do. I regret that I didn't ask her to write her life story for me when she was living with my parents and had the time to do it. She told me many stories but I didn't write all of them down and my memory is good but not nearly as sharp as hers was. I don't think I can celebrate her life and what she meant and means to me still if I don't get those stories down. Her stories -- all the stories I know -- are coming up.

We begin at the beginning. My grandmother, Beulah Ethel Garrard, was born on 9 December 1900 in Robinson Twn. in Crawford County, Illinois, the 6th and youngest child born to Robert Elbert Garrard (1853-1938) and Louisa Adaline Eagleton (1860-1944.) When grandma was born her dad put her in a shoebox in the bottom drawer of a bureau and moved it closer to the fire so the reflection of the heat would keep her warm. She was only two and a half pounds at birth and he could cradle her in the palm of his hand. They didn't expect she'd even live.

Grandma was the youngest and according to her stories, she was rather spoiled and unruly, always wanting her way. All her older siblings said she was that way, anyway, she'd say with a crackling laugh. She was a special favorite of her oldest brother Ralph, who was nine years older than she was. The picture above left -- the one where she's looking mighty unhappy -- was taken one day after school around 1910 (I suspect soon after the picture that follows of she and her schoolmates was taken, since her dresses look very similar and she looks about the same age.) Her older brother Ralph had informed her that she was to come over and get her picture taken and she was distinctly unwilling to do what she'd been told. She said she remembered standing there and pouting while Ralph held her tight around her waist.

Grandma's rememberences of her family were many. She said her sister Julia -- the oldest, born in 1887 - told her once that their mother Louisa had given birth to a stillborn baby of unknown sex about the year 1895. This baby had been as tiny as grandma had but had not lived and Grandpa Robert had went outside and fashioned a box of wood to bury the poor body. It was buried in the backyard or out in the woods and that was that. Julia also told grandma about their little brother Eldridge Garrison Garrard. Eldridge had been born in 1888 with a cleft palate. At the age of two he hit his head on the fireplace and died about two days later in January of 1890. Grandma said her mother Louisa said the family buried him in the Haskins Cemetery but there is no stone for him. Grandma took me out there one day in 1995 and led me to where he was buried. I could find it if I was standing there but I can't describe it to you here.

Her father, Robert, was never a milk drinking man. Grandma said the why of it was never explained to her until she was a young woman. Apparently in November of 1864 the cows that he and his family raised got into milkweed and the entire family unknowingly drank of the poisoned milk. Everyone became ill but Robert's father, William Garrard, was the only one to die. Robert remembered how it felt to be so sick and the idea of milk never set well with him again. Grandma said as long as he lived he never had another glass of milk.

Grandma's mother, Louisa, was raised up in a Christian faith (one that for the life of me I cannot remember) but when a young woman of 18 Louisa took up housekeeping work in the house of a local Quaker family (another whose name I cannot recall) and soon began to practice the faith. Grandma was fond of telling me that her mother was a Quaker.

The earliest couple of pictures I have of my grandmother Beulah are either her school pictures or pictures that were taken after school. She told me what school she went to but it is one of those names that I didn't write down and it has escaped my memory. The pictures I have don't list the school's name either. When she began school, she would walk in good weather and ride a horse in bad weather. I remember her telling me that she was only able to attend school until the 8th grade, which was about 1915 or so. The picture to the right (click to expand) was taken around 1910 and is likely one of the earliest pictures I have of her.

Grandma told me once that she remembers seeing and hearing her first plane when she was a teenager. She said she saw it go overhead when she was out watching some boys play a rough and tumble field baseball game.

I have another picture of her that is associated with her school years and it was this picture that I've featured at the head of my blog entry. That one was taken the last year she was attending school by a friend of hers as she walked down the road home, her round metal lunchpail swinging in her hand. It was fall 1915 and she was 14, almost 15. That picture -- the look in her eyes, the angularity but softness to her face, her small lips -- reminds me so much of my own daughter. Genetics are amazing. I can picture it in my head now, her friend stopping and calling her name...."Beulah!"....and when she stopped, she got her picture taken against the slowly setting Illinois sun. Isn't my grandma beautiful?

My grandmother's stories are many and this week will be hers. Tomorrow, her years after school.

At Long Last!

I'm back from a lovely vacation with a few good genealogical finds in hand. I'd have had more if I hadn't come down sick with a migrane on the day I was scheduled to go courthousing/cemetery hunting in IL with my cousins. I did manage to drag my butt over to the courthouse but I could barely concentrate and only got the bare minimum of what I wanted. Hm, I guess this means that I have to go back again. Oh, darn. Hah!

Of those I managed to get, the best by far was a copy of the original marriage license of Samuel J. Browning and Sarah Anne from the Tuscarawas County OH Genealogical Society for a grand total of $.60. I'd been theorizing for years whether she was a Dickinson or a Dickerson. When the Genealogical Society handed it over to me I read it and just started laughing with that laugh of frustration that I am sure all good genealogists know. It was pretty clearly "Dickerson" to me. I didn't see a dot over that "i" no matter how I looked or wanted it to magically appear. Even with this evidence, though, I am still comfortable with the idea that Dickinson was Sarah's surname. After I learned of the fact that George Dickinson included George W. Browning and Effie May Browning, the children of Samuel and Sarah, as heirs of his estate in 1876 in Crawford County I began to feel strongly that this was the most solid of evidence for their relationship. Dickerson and Dickinson sound very alike and a mistake could have been made in the license by the clerk being that both surnames were present in the county at the time. At any rate, take a look at the difference between the original copy I had of the license here and the new one to the left. The difference is pretty substantial. I'd love comments on whether or not any of you all also think I'm right in basing my opinion about Sarah's surname on the will more than the marriage license.

When we finally arrived in Crawford County and I managed to get to the courthouse there (no more hands-on looks at the death and birth records in Crawford County, much to my chagrin -- more on that later though!) I only got two documents -- the death certificate of Richard Jennings (proving that he was indeed the son of William Jennings and Jane Nevitt and making my day! -- more on that great find later too!) and a bit of a dig through the will of George W. Dickinson. I should have copied the entire thing but I was feeling so horrid that it was all I could do to stand there and copy the four pages I did get. The four pages were the guardianship records of John W. and Ella May Browning, children of George W. Browning, deceased.

These four pages, dated 1892, contain an affidavit from Amanda (Raney) Browning Short, who lived in Mt. Vernon, Jefferson Co., IL. Included in the pages was a guardianship paper from Jefferson County showing Amanda was the children's guardian and that she claimed $48 from the estate as the guardian of John and Ella, two of the minor heirs. These papers, more than anything else, tell me the following: John and Ella were George's children, and as George was Samuel and Sarah Anne's son, they were also Sarah Anne's grandchildren. This also tells me -- most importantly -- that Sarah was George Dickinson's daughter and a Dickinson instead of a Dickerson. It also helps that she named two of her children (George and Effie) after her parents.

I love when things come together. More to follow!