On the Road to Paisano Ranch

If you read Deb's blog (http://murphywasanavywife.blogspot.com/2012/11/san-antonio.html) she talked about our San Antonio trip.  In my study of our Shaw/Krieger genealogy, I discovered my Great Great Grandfather Fredric Kunze bought a ranch near Austin, Texas.  So a trip to the ranch was a piece of our genealogy I wanted to explore.  Our family tree is a hobby, one of my loves and clearly an understanding of who our ancestors were, what they experienced as they came to America and the challenges they faced and overcame. The trip to Paisano Ranch was another one of those journeys of a lifetime, and so in this blog I will take you with Deb and me on the Road to Paisano Dobie Ranch.

My great great grandfather Fredric Kunze arrived in America at Houston in 1853. Two years later he made a Declaration of Intent for Naturalization, and was naturalized as a citizen of America in November of 1857.  On 16 Feb 1863 he married Lucy Henderson Scribner in Travis County, Texas near Austin.  On 14 August that year they purchased 160 acres of land West Southwest of Austin, Texas.  Research on this property uncovered information the ranch is now called Paisano (Roadrunner) Dobie Ranch and is owned by the University of Texas. It's serving a two-fold purpose: preserving the ranch as a historical piece along with it's essentially pure areas of native Texas grasses, and providing a secluded place for aspiring writers to spend six uninterrupted months working on manuscripts. I'd corresponded with Michael Adams who manages the program and he graciously offered to meet us at the "locked" gate to the ranch and provide a tour and photo opportunity.  The only restriction was we had to work around the onsite writer--not a problem if we could see the outside buildings, get more understanding of what my gggrandfather faced as he arrived to this virgin property, and what it took to build two cabins which still stand erect on the property one hundred forty nine years later.

The road to the property enters through the gate above with the Paisano decorating the middle of it.  On the attached map, the road comes in from the South and meanders North.  Near the norther point where the road swings back to the Southwest, there is a side road off to the right.  It leads to a cabin which is believed to be a secondary cabin, the main cabin being at the end of the main road after crossing Burton Creek.  It may be the "main" cabin was designated as such because it was larger then the one on the side road.  I believe it's possible Frederic built the secondary cabin first, and then when they were settled, they built the larger cabin and the surrounding buildings. 

As we were led to the smaller cabin we were greeted by a couple of turkeys browsing in the cleared area around the cabin.  Since the area has not been "improved" the grasses on the property are virgin Texas prairie grasses one time browsed by feral Texas long horns. The horns from the last one to roam the property were saved when he died and are mounted in the main cabin.

The cabins are of a Swedish/German design common to the area where my gggrandfather lived in Europe.  The University indicates this is further confirmation he was the builder.  On this first cabin there is a second story, fully enclosed except for an opening on the East side.  A ladder could be placed there, and in the event of raids by either Comanches or Confederate raiding parties the occupants would climb to the second floor, pull up the ladder and close the door to the opening.  These raids, by renegade Southerners and Comanches were documented as late as 1869 along Burton Creek.

On the Road w/ New Family

As the few of you who read my blog already know, I've been carrying the family torch for genealogy for about ten years.  Because those who are interested are members of the site and log in occasionally, I don't tend to mention much here.  However, last year we added new family, and as a result I got to get on the Road to go meet them.  

I've got a shirttail cousin in Alabama who I've only met online.  She and I crossed paths because she was researching the family of the wife of my dad's older brother.  So, she's got one Shaw in her tree and that's Uncle Ralph.  This summer she sent me an email and said she'd been contacted by a gent helping his 80 year old father try to find his roots which were biologically a Shaw.  He found Ralph in her tree.  Donna put him in contact with me.  So, I managed to hook up with young Don.  

The story starts like this:  "My dad is looking for his biological father, but only the father knows he's really my dad's father, and he passed away about thirty years ago.  My dad Don was born out of wedlock as a result of their friendship."  WOW!  Turns out dad (Don Sr.) is in his early eighties.  He can tear down and rebuild a diesel engine in one day, and in fact still does that three or four days a week.  In his life time he's owned a trucking company, hauled dynamite for the government back during the war, and if you don't count the working because he enjoys it, is retired. 

So I asked to be able to talk to him, and Don Jr. said not an issue, he got involved because dad didn't do the computer technology stuff.  When I phoned, I had him on speaker as I started talking with him.   Deb came running into the kitchen where I was.  With one of the strangest looks on her face she whispers, "I'd have sworn you were talking with your dad!"  I guess that was the first positive input.  So I proceeded to take the normal precautions, and asked lots of questions.  Let him know I'd need to research enough to feel confident he was actually the son of my Uncle.  And, also said if the girls don't want to meet him, then that's it.  He agreed.

Well, everything started to fit with what I knew, and the dates and locations matched up, but when he forwarded pictures of himself that was the final cap.  He was definitely a Shaw. But, why he waited until 80 years old to find his dad's family is "...the rest of the story!"

So, asked Don Sr about that and here's the details.  His mom and her sister used to go to the Grange Hall Dances out by Graham, WA.  (Positive #2.)  That was where my dad Hap met mom.  Turns out his mom didn't want to have Don pursue a relationship (more on that in a minute) so much of Don's info came from his mom's sister his aunt.  Turns out they met two guys who were brothers, the one they called Happy (my dad, Positive #3).  His mom and my uncle dated, and then my Uncle left that spring to go back and work the wheat in Nebraska like they did every year.  Don's mom told him my Uncle knew she was pregnant.  When Uncle returned from the wheat that fall, he met and married his wife of over 50 years with whom he had two daughters.  

Don was only a year or two when his mom married, so he grew up thinking that was his biological father.  When he was in high school, mom and dad showed up with papers one day for the school to witness:  Don's dad was adopting him.  First he knew dad wasn't biological.  When my Uncle died in the early 80's, his mom came to him with the obit out of the paper, told him that was his real dad but she didn't want him to contact him.  (Because she was pregnant out of wedlock, her dad sent her off to the Sister's Home for Unwed Mothers in Tacoma.  It was a pretty tough emotional trip for her.) Then in 1994 when my dad died she brought him the obit and said this was the brother they called Happy.  His mom lived until 2007, and he honored her wishes.  But, as he was reaching his 80s he realized he really wanted to know the two daughters mentioned in the 1981 obituary.  That's when he asked Don Jr. to start the search.  

Eventually feeling pretty comfortable with the details I contacted the younger sister who was my age.  Had to laugh, the Shaws are all so "no nonsense" nothing surprises them, call it like it is.  When I reached my cousin, asked her if she was sitting down.  Her response, "Who died?"  Told her no one, but had some info, wanted to give her the short version, if she didn't care to hear more we'd let it go at that.  She said go ahead.  I told her it appears to all possible research I'd done that the girls had a half brother.  Her response, "Mom or daddy?"  Just wish I'd been there to give her a hug and a big smile.  That's just so typical.  So gave her the long version.

They have since met, and are working on planning more get togethers.  I made a rode trip over to the area and met Don for dinner, then went back down to Don Jr.'s for a lunch a few days later and spent more time talking.  We've since stayed with Don Sr's wife, he was in Los Angeles moving a flight similator for Boeing -- at 82 still getting major requests. 

When we had the first dinner, asked him to meet me at my daughter-in-law's restaurant.  Asked if he knew where it was.  "Yep, we eat there frequently!"  You've got to be kidding me, he's been eating at a relatives restaurant ever since she opened it.  AND, when he was hauling dynamite, he was driving with my daughter-in-law's business partner in the restaurant.  Yes, small world. 

Gee, I haven't talked to Don in a couple of weeks, guess I'll go call him right now.  And now you know the rest of the story! 

On the Road to Renewal

A year ago this Sunday I posted a blog -- On the Road to New Life.  It told of our multiple trips to Moscow as we awaited the arrival of our newest grandchild.  So here we are a year later, and have had the joy, excitement, challenge and benefit of a growing baby in the house since August.  He's been crawling for months and in the last few weeks decided he could walk.  (We have two gates: for the stairway; and the other for the laundry room where the pets' food and water are kept.)

In addition, his father has faced the challenge of following the 'book' on feeding as Papa has slipped Calder table food since about the time he was six months old.  This is one "healthy" kid, and will sit in the high chair, eat all of his baby food and cereal, and then come into the front room and see what Papa is eating and "mooch"--hence his nickname other than "Cheeks MacGee" which is probably a result of his great appetite.  

Last week we were On the Road to Renewal (more on that in a minute) and Cheek's mom bought a box of VooDoo Donuts in Portland.  Today there was still one cake donut with yellow frosting setting on the counter where it had been since Sunday evening.  After his lunch our daughter Erin was taking him to the front room to play, and as they passed the very stale donut, he gave his Mooch "uh, uh" and finger point at the donut.  But, his momma picked up the rock hard donut and put it in the trash.  

Travel forward a few minutes and Cheeks is playing and walking around and his momma keeps telling him to come back to the front room as he wanders around.  The next trip he disappears and mom says, "Calder, come back in here!"  A few seconds pass, and here comes Mooch, stale, hard cake donut with yellow frosting in hand -- one bite missing.  He had opened the cupboard door, pulled the trash bin out, and retrieved the donut!  A donut with new life!

So, let me back up a little here and talk about our family's road trip for New Life a week earlier.  Deb had managed to get four rooms at the Lake Quinault Lodge about halfway up the coast of Washington for last Saturday.  Now only a family as crazy as the Shaws would take off from Boise on the Road to a lodge for one night and then return to Boise the same weekend. But that is who we are! And I know a lot of it is because she does it for the olde guy!

Our daughter's car is not that great of shape, so they rented a Challenger and took off about midday Friday to plan a stop with Cheek's godmother in Portland, let her see her Godson then head on to the Lodge on Saturday.  (He first visited when five months old. Second trip at just under one year old.)  Our youngest son and his wife left Friday morning, planning to get a hotel and have a nice dinner together Friday night then go on to the Lodge Saturday.  Our oldest son and his family were ready by Friday evening when he got off work so they just rode with us in the Tahoe since Deb was getting off late as well.  

Early afternoon we got a frantic text from On the Road with Krieg and Karissa--their radiator had blown up near Hermiston.  Erin, Chris and Calder were just clearing Pendleton so we asked them to watch for the red jeep and see if they could help out. Long story short, the jeep was towed to Hermiston and a radiator was ordered, K2 put all their gear in the Challenger and the five of them headed to Madrina's one bedroom apartment for a birthday party and sleepover. The next morning they got VooDoo donuts and upgraded to a full-sized Impala and headed for Centralia, Washington. 

There they met us at our daughter-in-law's restaurant where we all (including granddaughter Andi) connected for lunch at the Centralia Steakhouse BBQ and Deli and caught up (renewed) what everyone had been doing.  After lunch it was off to Quinault. We arrived there about three p.m. having logged about ten and a half hours of driving to that point. We unloaded and then headed out for Kalaloch another 45 minutes up the road.  Arrived at 5p, made reservations for dinner in lodge for 6:30p and then headed down to the beach for the 5:18 sunset.

The cupola at the top of the steps leading down

to the beach where Erin and Chris were married.

We were so blessed to be able to Renew our link with Kalaloch on such a beautiful evening.  The sun was just setting, the tide was out so we could walk to the tide pools and there was no wind.  We went down there as individual families, took our time to share this special event within our own life pod, and then as the sun settled close to the horizon we came together as one large family, silently sharing this beautiful moment. 

Sun setting across the rocks that form the 

tidepools where we find starfish and anemones.

We have been able to Renew as a family including the Portland Shaws for the last several years, and only we the Shaw Clan who has been going to Kalaloch since the first visit 66 years ago would even consider driving 24 hours in a weekend to spend an hour on this beach.  My maternal grandparents were the first generation to come down here.  My parents Nan and Papo came here every summer for years, and as they asked, we distributed their cremains at Trail 2 just South of Kalaloch.  When we moved to Boise, and I retired we Renewed the Trek to Kalaloch as an annual event--third generation.  Now, we even try to sneak over more than just for a week the end of July. Thank you Deb for the memories each trip brings back to be renewed and for helping me keep this going into the fifth generation.

   Lake Quinault from the room.                                                        Generation Three

 Lake Quinault Lodge