Sunday, September 27, 2009
Cover of Loah Dow's Photo Album
Loah was the granddaughter of Ann Eliza Wainright
Yesterday my family history companion, Julie Jones, traveled with me to Ohio University in Athens, Ohio. As part of the Alden Library, there is an archives collection that I've linked to this post. I discovered about six months ago that they had housed in their collection scrapbooks, diaries, photo albums, etc. that had been put together by the Broadwells and related families.
Ann Eliza Wainright, sister of Britton, married Henry Broadwell from Mt. Carmel, Clermont County, Ohio. I discovered that both the Wainrights and Broadwells had come from Morristown, New Jersey to Ohio. The families probably knew each other there.
Henry and Ann Eliza Broadwell had as many as many as 11 children. Married in Cincinnati in 1834, the family is listed as living in Canaan, Athens, Ohio in the 1860 Census.
Although Ann Eliza is not in my direct family line, as a sister of Britton, I was interested in what I might find. IT WAS A GOLD MINE!
In one of the diaries I found an entry written by Ann Eliza Wainright Broadwell on her 50th wedding anniversary. She is saddened by the fact that this is the second year she's had to celebrate the anniversary without her husband.
The photo album had quite a few surprises. The first was a picture of Henry Broadwell and his wife Eliza Ann Wainright. They were the parents of Amanda Broadwell and grandparents of Loah. Loah had quite a photo album.
Loah was a child of privilege. The archives had a scrapbook from her time as a student at Ohio University. I think she graduated in 1915. It held rent receipts ($7.10 for three weeks of board), dance favors, tickets, sorority items, etc.
There was also a "sewing book" that she had created for her sewing class at OU. It had neat samples of various types of stitching, hemming, button holes, pockets, etc. She was very talented, but it made me wonder what her major was.
There was a priceless picture of Henry Broadwell's parents, John and Phebe Lindsley Broadwell. Boy, does she look happy. We photographed the back of it where it listed their names and the names of some descendants.
The photo album identifies this as a picture of Ruth Broadwell Bean. Ruth was one of the children of Henry and Ann Eliza. I'm sure she was named after her grandmother, Ruth Wainright.
Which leads to the best find of all. In the album was a picture of "Grandma Wainright." I believe it is a picture of Ruth Wright Wainright, wife of William and mother of Britton and Ann Eliza.
The notes on the back were not very clear, but also described her as the Great, Great Aunt of someone whose name I cannot read. I made sure to copy the picture with the handwritten identification in view.
If you follow the link attached to this post, you can read in detail about the materials they have housed in the archives. Luckily for us, someone had the forethought to donate these materials.
Note: You can click on the title of this blog entry and be linked to the information re: the files held in the archives at Ohio University.
Since I am now semi-retired, I've had more time to pursue some of the leads that always are on the back burner of any family genealogist's plate. My niece, Julie Jones, has graciously agreed to accompany me on some of these adventures.
On the way back to Cincinnati we stopped in Corydon, IN to see the Civil War battlefield where Morgan and his Raiders first fought as they crossed into the "North". Britton Wainright died of heat stroke on his march to confront Morgan. Corydon is about 14 miles from New Albany where Britton lived.
I was surprised what a small area is preserved. There is a small monument acknowledging the northerners who died in the skirmish and the southerners who died on the reverse side. A sign tells us that the cabin on the property was moved from a nearby location to give a feel for the type of cabins that people called home at the time. They also had a typical cannon of the time. Julie humored me and agreed to be photographed near it.
We traveled on to New Albany and the area where Britton's blacksmith shop had once been located. It is now an area of charming stores located a couple of blocks from the city's farmers' market.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
My mom was one of 5 and again I am the oldest of 5 so I guess you could say I too have many memories of Gi. It was NO secret that she loved her girls and of course no secret that my mom wanted all boys (ha ha Mom) but one of the last things Gi Gi bought me was when I was 12, a fuzzy white 4 inch thick Headband which I still have to this day. How many of the other grands can say that????? I will have to show you the next time we get together, and I am glad to say it warms my heart that Fred was bored to tears when Jan used to come to Sis to have fun with the Girls, sounds like he did get to do a lot with our Pop!
Patty Scardina Volz
As someone interested in my family's history, it is important to me to document every generation in my tree with as many sources as possible. It soon became apparent that this was not going to be easy when it came to Norine.
She was born on March 27, 1884 in Mt. Sterling, KY. My mother's notes say that her mother, Lucy, was not well and that Jan went to school in Lexington as a young girl. Her notes also say she had a "mammy" at some point. As fate would have it, Kentucky did not mandate birth records until 1911. The first census in which Norine would have appeared was the 1890 Census which was destroyed. Despite years of searching I have not been able to find a death record for either Lucy Probert Cronin or John Cronin. I have been able to substantiate through other records that John and Lucy were the parents of the first five children. I also know that a young, married black couple was living in the Cronin's home in the 1880 Census, and perhaps this young woman was the "mammy" referred to in my mother's notes.
The records to the right and below are part of the admission record for the first five children. They were brought to a Catholic orphanage in Covington, KY months before Jan is born. Boys and girls were placed in separate facilities at the time and in a record they found for Joseph and Charles Cronin (spelled three different ways) it notes that their "father dead." This lends credence to the idea that Norine had a father different from the father of the first five.
The family was of Irish descent. Mt. Sterling, at the time, had quite a bit of animosity toward "foreigners" including the Irish who made up 10% of the population. I have read through several of the local newspapers of the time and there are several articles that discuss limiting the political influence of the Irish and trying to deny them a vote.
Here is where the history gets cloudy, however. When I try to submit our family lines for recognition through the Hamilton County Genealogical Society, every generation must be fully-documented with reliable source documents. I recently submitted our Jones/Wainright family for recognition as one of the First Families of Cincinnati because I could prove that Britton was born here in 1819. I'm actually scheduled to get the award in a few weeks at a luncheon. When it comes to Jan, however, I am not without documentation. In fact, I have a fair amount of documentation. Unfortunately, there is no agreement.
Norine is the daughter of either Lucy Probert Cronin and John Cronin or Lucy Probert Cronin and William Dailey. Let me present the evidence for each, and you can be the judge.
I personally believe that Jan's father was a man named William Dailey. He lived in Mt. Sterling close to where the Cronin's lived. He, too, is of Irish descent. He is living with his sister, Ellen, in the 1880 Census. The Cronins and Daileys were friends. Evidence of this is the fact that I have a copy of the baptismal record for Jan's brother, Charles. Ellen Dailey is the Godmother.
On Norine's application for a Marriage License, she listed her name as Norine Dailey Cronin. She listed her father as William Dailey and her mother as Lucy Probert. The Church record posted earlier shows that the wedding was between a Jones and a Dailey.
I have a copy of both the Church Wedding Record for Edith Jones Breving and Edith's Baptismal Record. In both cases, the father is listed as Charles F. Jones and the mother as Norine Dailey.
It seems like it should be a "slam dunk" -- yet there are conflicting records. On Norine's Death Certificate, Pop was the "informant". He listed John Cronin as the father. He said the same when he published her Death Notice in the newspaper.
As I type this, I can't help but think that Jan is asking me why I didn't just leave well enough alone. She had five brothers and sisters. As mentioned earlier, she lived with a few of them when she arrived in Cincinnati. They were her family in every way and had the last name of Cronin. Every entry in the City Directory listed her name as Norine Cronin. I think it was just easier.
One of these years I may solve this mystery. It would be easy if I could prove John Cronin was, in fact, dead at least a year before her siblings were placed in an orphanage. I wish I could understand what her mother's illness was and whether or not Jan actually lived in an orphange-type setting as a young girl.
What I know for sure is that she "landed" in Cincinnati. She shared a 59 year marriage to Pop who never got over her loss. Jan was Irish through and through. (Hence I could not be anything but Kathleen as long as she was alive). She was the mother of my father and I wish I could have known her better.
I think both of them would be extremely proud of their descendants -- and I feel strengthened that they preceded me. The river (and their strength) definitely runs through us.
As stated in the last post, Tim and I went and met with Fred and Marge to get another perspective on our grandparents. We were not disappointed. Jan could best be summed up as a homemaker and a homebody. She loved to cook, sew and manage her family. She was not interested in traveling and always wanted to be home by dark. Fred told us that he and Rosemary were frequently the excuse for why Jan needed to leave early. She always cited the need for them to go to bed as the basis for leaving and getting home before dark. Fred joked that she was still using that excuse when he and Rosemary were teenagers.
Everyone knows that Jan had a clear preference for little girls. Fred said that every Tuesday Jan would get on the East End street car, transfer to Rt. 68 on Delta Ave., and climb the steps from Mt. Lookout to their home on Kinmont. He was bored to tears because the day would generally be spent with Jan sewing clothes for Rosemary -- not exactly an exciting time for Fred. He felt even sorrier for his younger brother, Bob, who was seven years younger. He was too young to be included in the travels that he and Pop would undertake and not a girl -- thus missing out on the attentions of his grandmother.
When I told Fred about the difficulty Mary Elizabeth Wainright confronted raising three children in a pre-Social Security era, we all recognized the similarities between Mary Elizabeth's plight and Edith's plight three generations later. The difference was that Edith and her children could at least get Social Security. As Fred said, "I was a Social Security baby and now I'm on Social Security."
Even though they lived in a house that had been purchased outright, Social Security was not enough. Aunt Edith worked at the Mt. Lookout Five and Dime, later called Ben Franklin's. Fred said that Aunt Edith had a teapot she kept in a hutch and that anytime one of the uncles from either side of his family stopped by, $20 would mysteriously be found in that teapot. Aunt Edith never saw anyone put any money in, but would always find it there. Fred said that money in that teapot was food for them.
We shared other stories, like the time Tim walked with Pop down to the Fisher's, the small neighborhood grocery where for the first time he saw can goods priced at 13 1/2 cents in an effort to make you buy two of everything. Fred told of being sent down the street to the neighborhood saloon as a child to bring back a pale of beer for his Dad and Pop. He better have not spilled any on the way back. (It was a common practice to send kids to get beer on both sides of the river at that time. I've been told the same stories by the Hellmanns in Covington. It amazes me in light of the 21st Century laws that kids were frequently sent to pick up beer and cigarettes for their parents).
Pop was ready to go anywhere at anytime. Fred said he was good friends with the Rhodes, the funeral home directors in Mt. Lookout, and that they would ask him if he wanted to ride along if they got a call to pick up a body in Indiana or other locations. Pop was happy to go.
Fred told us of frequently being called in the middle of the night because Jan would get up to go to the bathroom and fall. Pop could not get her up alone and Fred was called upon to assist. As someone who has experienced the debilitating effects of arthritis and had knee and hip replacements, I cannot imagine the pain and suffering that both of them experienced just trying to get around.
Patty told me the story of the time that she and Tom placed Pop on the back of a motor cycle with a helmet on and took his picture. They did it just to aggravate Aunt Edith (Sis) with whom he was living. At the time, everyone knew that he was nearly blind with macular degeneration. Patty said she was visiting him at one time and she got all teary as she observed him holding that picture to the side and trying to get it within his limited field of vision.
She also said his favorite flavor of ice cream was butter pecan. It must be in the genes because it is my favorite flavor, too.
One final comment -- Fred was well-known for handing out silver dollars. My brother, Tom, is his Godson and frequent recipient. Tim was always jealous. On Fred's 70th birthday, celebrated at General Butler State Park in Kentucky, Fred gave everyone in attendance a silver dollar. Tim took his home and framed it. When we met with Fred and Marge and Tim brought up that story, Fred said he's now into two dollar bills. The picture in the previous post is of Tim holding his two dollar bill. Fred suggested Tim pass it on to his grandson, Will, and when Tim said he was keeping it, Fred gave him a second one to give to Will. It was great fun starting a new tradition.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Fred lost his own father, Fritz, to illness. Fred was only 12 years old at the time. His father worked with lead as a typesetter. I looked up the death certificate and it said that Fritz died of a brain abscess due to bronchiectasis. Fritz was 11 years older than his wife, Edith, who became a widow at the age of 36 with three young children. Fritz (Frederick) Breving was a German who believed in paying cash for everything and bought their home on Kinmont outright.
The first thing I learned about Pop was that he really enjoyed looking at the ladies. Apparently, even when he was losing his vision to macular degeneration, he'd suggest to a granddaughter that she move within his field of vision so he could check her out.
Pop loved to travel. Jan loved to stay at home. Fred said Pop would call him up and tell him they were going on a trip. It was not a request. He remembers being 14 years old when Pop wanted to go visit Harley (his cousin) in Buffalo. Once they got away from the city, Pop would turn the driving over to Fred saying you've had practice pulling cars in and out of your Uncle Clarence's car repair shop -- you can handle it. Pop would sleep while Fred felt like the king of the world.
He said they usually slept in the car, bought a hamburger a day at a truck stop, and otherwise ate junk. Every Sunday they would go for a ride or Pop would buy a Sunday pass for the street car for Fred and they would ride into town and take the incline up to Mt. Adams.
Pop had a sister, Edith Hodges, who relocated from farm to farm never paying the rent. They would work the farm until they were asked to move on. Fred and Pop visited the Hodges on several different homesteads over the years and Pop remained very loyal to his sister. Apparently, Margaret Ann, was told that she was really one of the Hodges because she couldn't stay put.
Fred said that Pop absolutely loved his job and that the "car barn" was Pop's second home. When Fred would come and meet Pop at the car barn, he said that not only the mechanics, but all of the drivers knew and respected Pop. The drivers would want to let Fred on the bus for nothing, but Pop insisted that Fred put his fare in the box.
When Fred was about seven years old, there was a summer when both of his parents were in the hospital. Fred had to live at 2424 Eastern Ave. for the entire summer and the beginning of the school year. Sleeping in that house was quite difficult. There were no interstates and trucks were banned from Columbia Parkway. Not only did you have trucks and traffic along Eastern Ave., but also frequent trains on tracks up the hill from the house in the rear. In addition, there was the sound of boat traffic on the river. Fred was attending school at Christ the King in Mt. Lookout. Every morning Jan would put him on the streetcar and he would have to transfer to travel up Delta Ave. to get to school. That kind of independence for a young child would be unthinkable now.
When Fred got his first car, it must have been quite a clunker. He said it had a cracked engine block and that he, his mother, Rosemary and Bob took the car on a trip to Natural Bridge State Park. It was a '41 Chevrolet and he had to bring a lot of water to keep the engine functioning. He worked at his Uncle's car repair shop and saved the oil they drained from customer's cars to replace the oil in his own. It was a big deal and the only car in the family.
Pop suffered from arthritis and Fred said when he would first get up from a chair, you never knew which way he was going to go. Once he got moving, though, he moved everywhere fast.
When Jan died, Pop sold his house and moved in with the Brevings. Despite Edith's best efforts, Pop would not give up chewing tobacco. Around his favorite chair, Edith had to cover everything in plastic because he didn't always make the spitoon -- made all the more difficult since he had difficulty seeing.
Jan was another story -- one I'll discuss in Part II of this posting.
Monday, September 7, 2009
I was confused. Yes, my Dad was not Catholic, but that had no meaning for me. He attended Mass every Sunday with his family, belonged to the Holy Name Society at Nativity and worked all of the time to afford Catholic High School tuition. He was more "Catholic" than most "Catholics". Yet the nuns succeeded in making me feel that somehow my parents' marriage didn't quite measure up.
Dad's Mom, Norine, was very Catholic. St. Rose Church was her rock. I'm told that the Church was named in honor of St. Rose, the patron saint of seamstresses. Jan loved to sew. Rosemary even told me she was "named after the Church." On the other hand, Pop was a Protestant, Episcopalian I believe, although Dad claimed to be Presbyterian. How did that work, I wondered, because my Dad had to sign papers agreeing to raise any children Catholic. So why wasn't Dad raised Catholic?
This is where I would love it if those who read this post would leave a comment, because I'm telling the story as I know it. I'm sure your recollection is different from mine -- just as being the oldest in my family made my life experiences and recollections totally different from those of the younger members of my family.
This is the story as I recall it. Jan and Pop were married by the priest at St. Rose Church. Since Pop was not Catholic, they had to get a "dispensation" to be married in the Church. I've got a copy of the Church record where you can see they were given the required dispensation -- if you can read Latin that is.
Only someone raised Catholic can understand how they drum it into you how important it is to have a baby baptized as soon as possible. They used to teach us that babies who died before they were baptized went to "limbo" -- a place that was neither heaven nor hell, where the unbaptized innocents would remain for all eternity. I understand that recently the Church dropped the idea of limbo. So Jan, being a woman of strong faith, took her first-born Edith down to the Catholic Church to have her baptized. The Zins, from whom they rented, were the sponsors.
The way I remember the story, Pop was not happy about this. He wouldn't even have been so opposed to the baptism, but objected to not having much of a say about it. They then came to an agreement that all boys born of the marriage would be raised Protestant, and all girls would be raised Catholic. The score ended up being two Catholics and three Protestants.
When my Mom and Dad got married, Dad obviously had no negative feelings about Catholics -- his mother and two sisters were Catholic. From his point of view it was more important to go to Church as a family. And that we did.
Being Catholic was just the way it was. I was born into it. No room for or need for questions. But at the old age of 60, I guess I've realized how often someone's faith is not a matter of choice, but an accident of birth. In doing genealogy, I discovered that my husband Bill's grandmother was Catholic and disowned by her family for marrying "out of the Church." Bill, who long ago chose to convert to Judaism, is still thought of as "really being a Catholic" by my Aunt Evelyn because his grandmother was. Bill didn't even know he had Catholic roots until he was 67 years old, so how does that make sense.
In the process of discovering all of my roots, it is clear that I have a strong Catholic heritage. The Ryans, Cronins, Daileys, and Proberts were all Irish Catholic. The von der Heides were German Catholic, an accident of geography following the Thirty Years Wars between the Protestants and Catholics in Germany. One peace treaty required that everyone within a given district had to follow the same faith as the ruler. It just so happens that the majority of northwest Germany is Lutheran, with the exception of Oldenburger-Munsterland from whence my ancestors came. We could have just as easily been Lutherans.
On my family tree I've found Methodists, Episcopalians, Catholics and several other religions. In my own family, several family members have chosen to go a different direction than the Catholicism they were born into. I'm sure that was challenging for my parents given the times in which they were raised. But in my old age, I guess I'm more comfortable with the idea of "faith" vs. "religion". I feel there is more than one path to God and that a faith that is meaningful to the believer is the most important thing. Faith should never be reduced to an accident of birth, but rather be something actively chosen by the person.
Jan used to love the hymn "What a Friend We Have in Jesus", and hearing it would bring tears to my Dad's eyes. He always felt the connection to his mother when he heard it. I guess I'm just happy to have had ancestors of "faith" who passed on strong values to all of us -- including respect and tolerance. And by the way Sister Mary Alice, my parents were married at a Mass.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
". . . the earliest baker to build a significant reputation in the community was Thomas Probert, who was in Mt. Sterling by 1859. By 1871 he was listed as a confection and liquor dealer, and apparently went completely in the liquor business after that." p. 184 According to the 1870 Census, Thomas had transitioned to his job as jailer. In fact, the same book says on p. 107 that:
The jailor at this time was T.H. Probert, who was paid 75 cents a day for "dieting" prisoners. The county also assumed the costs of fuel, medicine and doctor's visits for inmates. City prisoners in this period were used as labor at a rock quarry on Queen St., working out their fines at $1.50 a day, or were used by the jailor in cleaning streets."
The 1870 Census lists Albert Storey and his wife, living at the jail in the same household as the rest of the Probert clan. Albert has transitioned to taking over the bakery business as evidenced by property deeds that I possess. Although the Census lists the name of Albert's wife as "Atlanta", I have other documents that list his wife as Addie, the oldest daughter of Thomas Probert.
Near the end of Thomas' life, things must have become extremely difficult financially. In December of 1875 a lien was placed on a billiard table and fixtures owned by Catherine. Thomas died in 1876 of cirrhosis.
But I just got off track -- here was the major finding. When I was at the archives, I noted (and unfortunately did not copy) that Thomas Probert of Lexington married Mary E. Dimond on either December 23rd, or December 30th 1846. Upon searching records once back home, I discovered that the Kentucky Death Records noted that Mary Probert died at the age of 29 of consumption.
That solves several problems for me. I now believe that Addie and Lucy were daughters of Mary E. Dimond Probert and not daughters of Kate. I think Kate was his second wife. I had never understood how Kate could have given birth to Addie at age 11 and Lucy at age 15. Kate is 13 years younger than Thomas.
In addition, the 1880 Census lists Mary Lou and Maude, two of her daughters as living with her. She states that she had six children and that only two are now alive. I always thought that was strange because I knew Lucy was still alive. Now I know that she did, in fact, have six biological children. Three died at the age of three and under as evidenced by the August 31st posting of their graves. Lizzie, who was one year old and living at the jail in 1870 apparently also died by the time of the 1880 Census but is not buried with the rest of the children. Catherine was stepmother to both Addie and Lucy.
I can't imagine losing four children before they reached adulthood. One other piece of evidence for Addie being the wife of Albert Storey is that their daughter, Maggie, is living with her grandmother (Kate)and listed as a granddaughter in the Census. I've spent the morning updating all of my records. Another problem solved.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
The family was living on Eastern Ave., across from Highland Elementary and down the street from the beloved St. Rose Church.
The picture of the house was taken in 2001. When Jan and Pop owned it, it was painted bus company yellow as Rosemary would say. You can refer back to the blog on Pop with the buses to see that color.
Fred and Norine became the parents of five children:
Edith was born June 14, 1910
Charles Frederick was born July 4, 1911
Robert Leo was born July 15, 1918
John Thomas was born September 30, 1920
Margaret Ann was born January 22, 1928
After seven years, it is no wonder that Fred and Norine thought they had the perfect, and complete, family. From what I've heard, however, Margaret Ann was a delightful and cherished addition to the family. I'll have to let the Scardinas fill in the blanks about that when we get to the next generation.
The Scardinas let me copy this picture of their mother, Margaret Ann, the small child in the middle of the picture. It was taken in 1929 when Margaret Ann was two. I'm told she is surrounded by other East End friends. Note the river to the right and St. Rose Church in the background to the left. Love those nickers . . .
What an image of my grandmother, Norine! The grandmother I remember, known to me as Jan, did not like to have her picture taken. I love this picture. She looks so sweet and happy. One of the things that jumps out at me is that the picture was taken in Lexington, KY.
As most of you know, I "inherited" family history notes from my mother. In discussions with Patty and Rosemary, I know that much of what she had was given to her by Margaret Ann and Edith. Here is what my mother's notes said about Norine:
Norine Augusta was born in Mt. Sterling, KY. Her mother, Lucy, was sick for a long while. Norine had a "Mammy" for a while. She later moved to Lexington, KY. Norine went away to school because her mother was ill. The notes get a little confusing when speaking about Josie, Lizzie and Gussie. Josie and Lizzie Williams were apparently school friends of Norine. Their mother was Gussie Green.
Norine moved to Cincinnati where her brothers Joe, Albert, and Charlie had a grocery store located at 711 Main St. Her sister Addie married Fred Kincaid. Another sister, Annie (Margaret Ann), moved to California.
When Norine moved to Cincinnati to work, she did not live with her brothers. Instead she moved in to a boarding house in Norwood with Lizzie Williams and Gussie Green. She worked at the Manhattan Restaurant as a clerk in an office which was located at 5th and Race Streets where the Carew Tower now stands.
Mom's notes say that Norine's father was John Cronin. In a later post I will discuss some of the evidence disputing this fact -- an area I've been researching for the past six years. John Cronin was the father of the five older children.
"Jan" married "Pop" in 1909 at St. Rose Church in Cincinnati. They lived on Dandridge St. for awhile and then moved to 2416 Eastern Ave. to the Zins' home. The Zins ran a neighborhood saloon and the newlyweds lived upstairs. Their first child, Edith, was born there. They then rented an upstairs apartment from Uncle Tom and Aunt Ella, living at 2269 Columbia Ave. (now Columbia Parkway).
My mother's notes say that "Pop's father owned a four-family house on Gladstone." In fact, this house was torn down in the last few years. The original address was 632 Gladstone, but the streets of Cincinnati were renumbered and it had a different address later on.
Pop bought the family home in 1929, right after the stock market crash. He paid $5500 for it and sold it for $7500 in 1966.
The 1908 City Directories list Norine, Albert and Addie all living in the same locations as those listed for 1906. In 1907, Norine is listed as a check clerk at 17 W. 5th Street -- probably the restaurant discussed in Mom's notes. By 1909, Norine is living at 2953 Gilbert Ave. and Addie and Albert are living at 1306 Pendleton where Albert is a bartender. In December 1909 Norine married "Fred". In all of the City Directories, Norine is listed as a Cronin.