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Posts Tagged ‘family history’

I paused my research on my maternal side of the family to scan photos and documents from the paternal side. My father took the time to identify and label most of the photos and that has been a great help, but there are still a few unknowns waiting to be identified.

Speaking of identifying things: Dad identified more with his mother’s family than he did with his father’s family line. He told us how he was Irish, and he could even remember a few words of Gaelic when he was younger.  Sadly, the knowledge I have of his family ends with the first emigrant to America who sailed from Northern Ireland and who was Presbyterian by faith. My own DNA registers no Irish ancestors, but tracing ancestry by DNA is only as good as the pool of people (relatives) who also have their DNA tested.

I have a lead that might be my Irish ancestors, but it bears more research. If it pans out, they were originally from south Ireland and migrated to the north, possibly due to religious differences (again, the family was Presbyterian, not Catholic). Traditionally, Northern Ireland is Protestant and Ireland is Catholic. Orange vs. Green despite both colors being in the national flag.

Whatever the differences, the Cusick (possibly Cusack misspelled at some point in time) side of the family identified as Irish Nationals who emigrated across the Pond.

John Timothy Wilcox I

Dad’s immediate family was riddled with tragedy and not a little bit of mystery. He was a Wilcox, descendant of John Timothy Wilcox I. JT as I believe he was known, had several siblings but I never heard a whisper of cousins on that side of the family until I got into genealogy. As far as I knew, JT was an only child (he wasn’t). JT married Azema Kimmey and they had two children: Fred Orson “Fritz” and Mary Elizabeth. The latter died within a year or two of her birth.

FO “Fritz” Wilcox

Fritz, or Gramps as I knew him, was married three times. There may have been some affairs in between wives, Dad was never very clear. What Dad was clear on was that he very much resented his father, Fritz. A cousin recently told me why: apparently Fritz would come home drunk and then beat Dad for no reason. I think the marriages after the death of Dad’s mother had some bearing on the estrangement as well. But I am supposing and Dad is gone so I can’t ask him anymore.

Sylvia Cusick Wilcox

Fritz’s first wife was Sylvia Cusick, daughter of the Irish. All the photos I have show a very happy family. Oldest born was Mary Elizabeth (for Fritz’s baby sister) and then John Timothy Wilcox II (Jack, or Dad – to me). Sylvia contracted necrotizing faciitis at the age of 26 and passed away before my father was 2.  Today I am choosing to concentrate on this core family of four; more were added over the years through different marriages.

Mary E. and Jack 1929

Mary was the eldest, always. Dad was next. All the step and half siblings were younger (and are still a part of the family story). They were not a happy family, but they were a family and bonds were formed. Sadly, after Mary married and had her own first child, she was killed in a tragic drunk driving accident. Mary was barely 21 years old. Her death reverberated in my Dad’s heart and he named his third born after her: Mary Denise Wilcox.*

Dad had a half-brother and three step siblings. I have a little of the genealogy of Uncle Mike’s mother (Dad’s half-brother). I knew his step-siblings as Aunt and Uncles, and Gramps’ third wife, Thelma, as my Granny. Gramps and Granny were fixtures in my childhood despite my father’s ambivalence toward his father.

Jack Wilcox, Mary Wilcox, JR Bromley, Peggy Bromley, Mike Wilcox, Dick Bromley (Top to Bottom)

Top-Bottom: Jack Wilcox, Mary Wilcox, JR Bromley, Peggy Bromley, Mike Wilcox, Dick Bromley

*Deni died in 2000 just shy of her 41st birthday, but that is another story. Of note is that she died of necrotizing faciitis.

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Today’s post is about unlabeled photographs. Please label your photos so people in the future will know who the heck is in the photo.

I think these are from the Wilcox side of family, but they could be on the Melrose. I have no clue. And I’ve held onto these photos most of my adult life. I should have asked my parents while they were still alive. That would have been too simple. I know they are family, but how I know that is now lost to me through the haze of decades.

I probably snagged them when the Wilcox family heirs were busy tossing all the old family photo albums and my sister, my cousin, and I sat and saved photos, mostly of ourselves but also of some ancestors. My cousin, Reisa, my age, kept all the embarrassing photos of me and I, likewise, kept all the embarrassing ones of her. My sister got whatever we two didn’t want being younger than the pair of us older bullies.

The family was a disaster: my father and his sister’s daughter, Dad’s half-brother, and two step siblings all vying over the paltry belongings of Gramps and Granny. It was chaos and sometimes it was downright ugly. Dad’s sister died young and her sole heir was her daughter. One step sibling never made it to the chaos, but the other two brought their spouses. They even argued over the sheets. THE SHEETS.

But they threw away the old photo albums.

Luckily, we three teenage girls were on the scene to filter through the albums and rescue some of the history. And, for the most part, the photos I walked away with were labeled with names and dates.

Then, there are these two. If they are Wilcox family at all, and not on the Melrose side of things.

A battered sepia-tone of girls, apparently twins(?).

And this beauty in a stylish hat.

The embossed seal in the lower right corner is all I have to go on.

The Wilcox side of my story spent a lot of time in Chicago. The Melrose side stayed in Wisconsin, for the most part.

For now, I will set these two aside and hope that I will find clues or an outright answer later on in my research of my ancestry.

Heck, I might even discover the Hiram Walker land deed is from the Wilcox side of things as well.

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Switching Gears

I am gearing up for the last “pop-up“ market of the season while other people are gearing up for the big food event. My studio is littered with papers, feathers (yes, feathers), binders, acrylics, markers, and a few Christmas gifts that need to be wrapped and shipped. I have parsley hanging to dry, the last of the garden harvest I will hang this year. I am using this “down” time to catch up on genealogy.

My genealogy has waited for decades to be digitized. I’m not getting younger, and my memory is starting to fade. I have a pretty decent family tree started but I want to get done with the scanning and converting all my files to digital. Photos, old letters, old land deeds, and typewritten memories from my ancestors who also dabbled in family history. Get done with that, then convert my husband’s paperwork to digital.

Whew – I have a lifetime of work ahead of me. At least enough to fill the winter months for the foreseeable future.

I have already scanned all the deeds my mother collected whenever she happened to visit Wisconsin where her people were from. Mom did a lot of leg work, and I am reaping the benefits. She concentrated on the “newest” Americans: the Melrose clan. She never got into the Scotland roots, but I can understand why: every other son was named Phillip or John.

Phillip Melrose begat John Melrose who immigrated to the Americans before the American Civil War. John moved to Wisconsin and sired Phillip George Melrose. Phillip George sired two sons: Dale and John Vaughn Phillip Melrose. Phillip – John – Phillip – John. Dale died when he was young (see Letters From Dale in my archives). John VP Melrose fathered three girls, no sons: Phyllis, Donna, and Mary Lou (my mother). Phyllis was the closest he came to naming another child Phillip.

Mary Lou Melrose 1952
Mary Lou Melrose 1952

That original immigrant bought and sold quite a bit of land in Wisconsin and Illinois.

I came across some deeds that seemed to have nothing to do with my family line: A patent deed to Mary Eliza Drury (1878), Ormal Walker to Harvey Hakes (1889), and Preston King to Hiram Walker ((1860). That latter one is truly a puzzle, but I will get to it in a moment. It was the deed from Hakes to Walker that finally helped me figure it out (I think) because I have a second deed from Harvey Hakes to Phillip Melrose. Same property.

My hypothesis is this: instead of a “Title Search” as we know it in modern real estate transactions, the original deed was presented to the buyer as proof that the seller had the right to sell. I couldn’t find a deed from Drury to Melrose or Walker to Melrose, but those could simply be missing. Things got lost when Mom passed in 1995 or maybe she never acquired those deeds. Makes sense to me.

It doesn’t explain the original land deed from Preston King to Hiram Walker, signed by the 84th President of the United States. On parchment, hand signed, with a seal. Preston King was deeded the land after the Black Hawk War (a nasty piece of history). He was a private who served under Captain Campbell’s Illinois Militia.

I framed it. It has been folded and stored incorrectly for decades. I think it deserves wall space and maybe one day I will solve the mystery surrounding why I own it.

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“I know what I’ll do! I’ll put together that scrapbook of Mom’s memorabilia. She’s only been dead since 1995…”

I’ve been stuck in the Vortex for the past four days. First, there was the sorting out all the scrapbook materials between my mother, myself, my father, and my mother’s family (Great Grandma Melrose saved everything and her sister, Great-Great Aunt Gert was a prolific writer of letters to both my mother & grandmother). Mom was pretty good at collecting things herself, as am I.

As was my father, his mother, and his father’s mother. But I wasn’t dealing with Dad’s stuff just yet. Or mine.

I have scanned over 42 documents of varying size, from old letters to land deeds – anythng too fragile to take to a printing place and try to copy.  I use Scanbot, an App on my Smartphone. It allows me to scan multiple pages as .pdf files and will automatically send those to my Google Drive, inserting them in the folder I want. It does take a lot of time, but I’m not standing in a printing place, trying to unfold delicate documents and keep them from falling apart. Using Scanbot, I could take several photos, combine them, and save them. While they loaded to my Drive, I carefully put the documents into acid-free clear sleeves so they can be stored safely.

I also put together 98 pages of scrapbook – my mother’s clippings, saved poems, and loose memorabilia. I didn’t bother with the fancy scrapbooking they do nowadays: I scrapbook the old style, like my ancestors did. No special notes, just things of importance to my mother – and no judgment of what she saved. I’m talking about things she saved from the mid-1940’s until her death.

The land deeds were items Mom collected on various genealogical trips back to Wisconsin to trace her father’s family (Melrose). She also has copious notes she shared with a cousin & fellow genealogist who traced the family back into id-1500’s Scotland. That was no mean feat as the family preferred certain names: Philip Melrose would beget John Melrose who would beget Philip Melrose who would beget John… And often, one baby would die so they would reuse the baby’s name on the next son so there were two Philips in one family but only one who grew up to beget the next John (or two).

It gets further confusing because my Great-great-great Grandfather Philip Melrose married Euphemia Brown in Scotland before immigrating to the States. My Great Grandfather Philip Melrose married a Mary Brown, no relation to the afore-mentioned.

They often had very large families and often more than one marriage (I had to explain this to my husband who found that odd: the first spouse often died, so there was a remarriage and a blended family of half-siblings. My Great-great Aunt Gert (the letter writer) was the half sister of my Great Grandmother.

Genealogy is not just collecting the names of one’s ancestors, it is also about finding the stories. I’m fortunate to have a Family Bible handed down through the Melrose clan and the scrapbooks created by women – and men – who felt their history should be preserved. The collection of deeds and war records tells other stories. The letters, homey and warm for the most part, detail day-to-day events as well as the hobbies and interests of the people who make up my DNA pool.

Great-Grandmother’s brother, Newton Brown, surveyed much of Wyoming in the 1920’s and 1930’s. Great-great Aunt Gert had a U-Pick in Vancouver, Washington (and I am forever addicted to Boysenberries as opposed to any other variety of blackberries because she allowed me to just pick and feed my at little face). Great Grandmother saved every one of Dale’s letters, detailing his life in Oregon and subsequent death at Fort Lewis in 1917 (scarlet fever).

 

And that’s just my mother’s side of the family. That file cabinet in the photo above is the information I have on my father’s side of the family, dating back to the earliest ships to sail for the Colonies from Great Britain.

Oh, yeah, Mom’s side can be traced to the Mayflower as well. The Melroses were recent immigrants, coming here in 1860, just in time for the civil unrest to drive them to the wilds of Wisconsin (besides, the weather in North Carolina wasn’t fit for the Scots — so says a note that I scanned today). The first American John Melrose had to sign a document stating her would not choose sides in the war between the states.

I do need to sit down and work on the actual name-collecting part, where I fill in the blanks on a family tree that includes the names of half-siblings, second spouses, and distant cousins. But my brain is dead currently, and all I can do right now is bind everything up into scrapbooks and acid-free sleeves in a binder. I think I need a fire safe for the Wisconsin land deeds.

Mostly, I just want to get as much of this digitized as soon as possible.

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I’ve sifted through it several times, but I’ve never felt comfortable with the contents until now. There isn’t anything in the box that I would sell (his keepsake box is another matter) as nearly everything left in the Japanese inlay box is heirloom or sentimental in value.

jewelry box

Dad liked all things Japanese, so it is not a surprise to me that he had this box (the hinges are broken) as his primary jewelry box.

The contents are small items (the box is 22x15x6 cm or 9.75x6x10.5″).

SA Class ring 1920(2)

Chas Edwin Cusick’s high school class ring – St. Anthony High School, 1920. Uncle Ed (he went by Ed) was born in 1902 and died in 1960, never having married. His parents and sister preceded him in death, and he was close to my father The Cusicks are the Irish lineage, having come from Derry, Cavan, Ireland in the 1750s.

Franklin Hebbard Cusick’s class ring from St. Anthony High School, 1926. Uncle Frank also never married, but he lived a very long life. He was born in 1907 and died in 1985 It doesn’t seem that long ago. Great Uncle Frank was a kick in the pants and told me stories about my father that Dad would never tell me – and he did so in front of Dad, forcing my father to confront his wild youth. I adored him.

003

Then there is this – This photo does me in. Sylvia Cusick. She was born in October of 1903 and died in March of 1930. The photo above is dated September 1930 on the back. She married my grandfather in 1925. She was a young mother of only 26 when she died of sepsis related to strep. My father was not quite 2 years old.

Those are some pretty awesome pants she’s wearing and fuzzy slippers!

juror

Somebody (most likely my Great-Grandfather John T. Wilcox and his bride, Azema (née Kimmey), visited the 1904 Wolrd’s Expo in St. Louis. Gramps – Fred Orson (Fritz) – would have been 6 years old. There are a couple mementos from the World’s Expo of that year.

siam front 1904siam back

A pin of one of the nations represented (only one pin, sadly). The flag part measures 2x3cm (1.25×1.8″).

This is perhaps the coolest – a folding book in copper. The book itself is 2.5×1.75cm (1x.75″). I’m loading the images separately because they are so tiny!

paris coverparis1paris2paris3paris4paris5paris6paris7paris8

Still with me? Haven’t bored you yet?

nugget

There are other items in the box – pins and such – but this is the only other item of any interest to someone other than myself: a gold nugget.It’s roughly 1cm (2/3 of an inch?). No note, no history, just a random gold nugget. I’ll just leave it like that.

Oh! Wait! One more. Dad’s pin.

lefty

His handwriting, no date. He was left-handed. Writing is still legible, so when he was much younger. 🙂

 

 

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