Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘old letters’

The past couple of days have been exhausting emotionally. I reduced my saved memorabilia by two thirds. That was easy. No one cares if I went to see John Mellencamp and saved the ticket stubs or that I saved *every* piece of literature from our Yellowstone vacation. I filled two boxes with stuff I recycled.

Then came the saved letters. THAT was emotional. I saved letters from my Great Aunts, my Gramma Melrose, my Aunt Phyllis, my sisters Deni and Cyndi, and a few from my parents. They are all gone now: Great Aunt Cindy, Great Aunt Doris, Gramma, Aunt Phyl, Cyndi, Deni, Mom, Dad. I decided to pass on the letters from Cyndi to her oldest daughter, who is still reeling from her mother’s passing last summer.

I read through the few I saved from my sister, beginning with the one she wrote from Idaho State Penitentiary. My parents had been silent on the issue of my sister, so I was completely blind-sided by her location. It made sense, even without knowing the story. My sister leaned a lot toward the outlaw side of life. She was a self-confessed “black sheep” in a family with a history of law enforcement. She was also witty, smart, funny, and genuine. She simply had very bad taste in men and an addictive personality.

Her letters are everything she was: struggling poor, a loving mother, an optimist, and a sucker for men who didn’t care about her or the babies they fathered. I’m passing those letters on to one of her children.

I started writing penpals in the late 1960s. There was a column in Western Horseman Magazine where you could connect and find other kids as horse crazy as yourself. Most of those penpals drifted off through the years, but I have stayed in touch with two of them for – what? 52 some odd years. And I saved almost all of those letters. Two years ago, one of those dear friends suddenly – and angrily – unfriended me. It was heart-wrenching, confusing, and completely out of the blue. I didn’t “like” a comment she made on Facebook and – just like that – our friendship was over.

I didn’t save any of her letters. I can’t bear to read them, to taste the sense of deep fellowship that I thought we had, knowing how abruptly she chose to end it all.

Today was better. I moved to photographs, starting with all the loose ones. I trashed duplicates, photos of kids I don’t remember, and recycled all the metal frames I used to display enlarged photos. I checked photo albums against the loose photos, filling in the gaps as I could. I’m missing photos. I tossed photo albums that were falling apart.

photos

Ignore the unicorn. These are the photos I tackled today.

I scanned photos of my childhood, especially any of my sister, tagging my niece and nephew as I did so. They have nothing of hers, the precious few photos I have of her are gems for them.

Finally, I tried to make sense of a timeline for the loose photos. My mother dated hers – that was easy. My dad’s weren’t dated but I can make an educated guess. The photos of my kids, however… WHY didn’t I date them?! I can guess based on their faces, but… I guess it will just be “close enough”. Fortunately, from 2004 through 2005, I previously sorted and dated the photos.

After 2005, I went digital.

Now all I need to do is to insert the photos into the three albums I purchased (probably in 2006 or 2007). Hopefully, I have less than 900 photos to deal with. If I have more… UGH. I just want this project over with.

IMG_7153

Read Full Post »

My DNA doesn’t show that much Scots, but as they were recent immigrants to America, I have a very strong connection to my Scots heritage. Dad used to joke that we were more Irish than Scots, but Mom would point out that the correct hyphenation of our particular heritage was “Scots-Irish”. He would turn around and remind her that the Irish taught the Scots how to walk – by giving them wheel barrows.

I get to a point where I think I am close to finished, then I find more items that need to be scrapbooked or saved in acid-free archival sleeves. I ran all over town today trying to find the right sized scrapbook sleeves that are also archival and acid-free. (The ones I wanted were on sale at Michael’s, my last stop.)

IMG_7124

Above is the scrap book I am creating out of my mother’s scraps. I found more to go into it and I ran out of archival inserts – again. Ill have to run down to Michael’s tomorrow to get a second scrapbook and one more packet of the archival sleeves. Mom just became two scrapbooks (Well, three – I also possess the scrapbook she made for herself in the 1950’s). I tried to keep everything she saved although I did have to parse out a few newspaper clippings that made no sense at all in the timeline of Mom’s life.

When scrapbooking for the dead, honor their scraps. I don’t need her to come back and haunt me because I left something important out. She saved all that stuff for a reason. Right?

IMG_7125

Letters. Old letters, land deeds, Naturalization papers, wills… I need a second binder and more acid-free sleeves. These cover from the 1860’s when my Scottish ancestors immigrated and through 1992. I guess I have to include the letters I wrote Mom in 1991-1992 because she saved them.

There are letters from Newton Brown, Gertrude McDermid, George Andrews, and myself, not to mention Great Grandmother’s entire collection of Letters From Dale (I blogged about them – actually transcribed them – in 2015 if you care to search my archives). I can’t touch the letters from Dale without feeling Great Grandmother’s deep sorrow (it’s an Empath thing) as Dale died in the big Influenza pandemic of 1917. He had Scarlet Fever).

George Andrews and my mother had a correspondence going as George (a cousin) was doing extensive genealogical research in Scotland. Much of the information I have today is because of George Andrews.IMG_7127

The above scrap book is full of all the miscellania from Great Grandmother Melrose and Grandma Melrose. There’s nothing else to put into it, and while it is bulging, I feel to need to get a second albom – there are three empty pages in the back. It’s complete.

The box it is sitting on is full of the paper dolls (I blogged about them in 2013). They are the reason I bought an archival type scrap book in the first place: to preserve my mother’s childhood. I’ll need yet another scrap book and a ton of acid-free archival sleeves for those. With the nicer weather coming on, I can’t promise I’ll get that task done soon. It’s a rather huge task.

I’ll probably tidy up the family tree on the Scots side before I move on to the more complex side of the family tree: the Irish/English/Everything Else side. One thing I have learned from doing this bit of scrapbooking is this: I cannot do straight line genealogy. The family is too complex and cousins are too important to ignore. If I did straight-line genealogy, I would lose Great Uncle Dale (who died at the age of 22 and never had any children, but whose impact on the family overshadowed my grandfather (the younger son who survived and fathered three beautiful girls).

Great great Uncle Newt Brown alludes to a relationship with John Brown of Harper’s Ferry fame. Great great Aunt Gert was a half-sister to Newt and Great Grandmother Mary Brown Melrose, but her letters are influential.

It’s crazy (maybe) but I feel so rooted in who I am when I go through all of this miscellania. I only hope my children want to keep this history alive.

 

Read Full Post »

“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.

Read Full Post »

001 002This is thesecond letter in the collection of letters from Dale Melrose home to his parents in Wisconsin.

“Newberg, Ore. Dec. 24, 1911

Dear Folks,

I got your letter and, what was in it, also a letter from Aunt Jane with a dollar in it. I guess I can make use of that *Botany(sic) allright.

I didnt(sic) wake up until noon this day so I missed sunday school and church but I will go to-night. Maybe I will go to Midnight Mass at the Catholic Church too. The store is rushing me for their bill which amts to $12.42 for the last month, but I bought all my stuff to start in on for cash, then in the bill. I got a football jersey which makes provisions for a month amt. to about ten dollars. I am going to have an oyster stew to-morrow and also some raw.

Jim Hess wanted me to come out and eat dinner with him but I hardly dare to am afraid I might over-eat. I spend a good deal of my time practicing on my harp, I have got all of my lessons about down, and am expecting some more by mail before long.

Say! this is the worst country for sleeping you ever saw, if I didn’t set my alarm clock I would sleep all the time I guess.

How has young Frank made it go? Is he working for George or his father.

Well, I guess I will have to get supper. I guess I will take Book-keeping next year then and Physical Geography too the first semester. I am sending my report card, if I would have got one more point in Latin I would have got A in that too. As it was I got 94 and that made me exempt in everything. I borrowed ten dollars from Jim when I started in housekeeping, the I owe ten on the harp also my store bill and – I guess thats all I owe I hate to say anything about my debts vut it can’t be helped, but I figure it is cheaper than it would be if I boarded at Uncle Erns anyway. If I could get a good job somewhere next summer I don’t think I would go to the coast.

Dale Melrose.”

I am leaving the puctuation as he wrote it, so some of those sentences are down-right run-on. I am not sure Aunt Jane or Uncle Ern are – relatives on the Brown side? The letter seems to be a classic, “please send money” but he doesn’t come out and actually say that. My conjecture.

*Botany – that’s a really unusual word to use in that sentence. I *think* he meant “Bounty”, but then a dollar is green and maybe he did mean botany?

 

Read Full Post »