Ridin' with Dode!

When my maternal grandmother passed away forty years ago (1979) my mother ended up with a couple of shoe boxes of old black and white family photos Dee Dee had acquired over the years.  They ended up in the very same shoe boxes in mom's closet and there they stayed for the next fourteen years until mom passed away in 1993.  Dad stayed with us one more year, but went off his chemo treatments when mom passed. So it was fifteen years after Dee Dee died that we finally sorted through the family heirlooms and Deb retrieved a couple of larger boxes filled with old family photos.

We too carried the photos around for what seemed an interminable amount of time -- and finally in 2012 Deb convinced me to use that new scanner/printer we'd purchased to scan in the photos and add them to an external hard drive for safe keeping. Having done that, we sorted out the hard copy photos by family and returned most of them to the people who appeared in the pictures.  We now had easy access to the old family photos, we reduced the volume of photo boxes we had in the house, and we surprised some family members with pictures of themselves they'd long forgotten or didn't realize still existed.

As the few of you who read my blog know, the Pacific Ocean beach at Kalaloch, Washington is a huge part of our family history, time together and some incredible memories.  The folks, Grandparents and parents, first took me down there when I was six years old.  That's sixty-five years ago this year.  On one of those trips a picture was taken of my mom on the beach in shorts, holding a floppy hat on her head.

A couple of years ago our daughter Erin saw that picture and thought it would be neat to duplicate the shot. She found a similar outfit, talked Chris into shooting a picture of it on the same beach just a little farther South, and

we now have a frame with the picture of mom, and the duplicate of Erin. It was kind of a neat idea, was fun to do, and brings lots of smiles to our family when we walk by.

Over the last few years, especially as I've tried to add more and more photos to the family pages I've been fascinated by a picture of Dee Dee when she was a young girl, before she married Gilbert.  It shows her sitting outdoors, in what might be a wicker chair with a stuffed pillow under her left arm and she's reading a book -- Cynthia-of-the-Minute.

There's also a picture of her standing holding the book.  We believe she was about seventeen (1915) had yet to meet Gilbert and was living with her family in Twin Falls at the time.

So, the last time I walked by the photos of mom and Erin on the beach, I thought, "Well, she's done one of her grandmother, why not one of her great grandmother.

Thus began the journey with Dee Dee (Dode as my grandfather called her). Since Deb got me a Kindle for Christmas, I now find it very easy, convienient and "costly" to access Amazon.com.  And when I click on the link, I'm there, I'm signed in, and purchasing is a "one-click" event.   Just for shits and giggles I decided  to see if I could find the book "Cynthia-of-the-Minute".  WaaaaLaaaa!  The book was first printed in 1911 and subsequently made into a movie in 1920.  In my search I found three "hard back" copies of the book. Two were for under ten dollars, and the third was touted as a First Edition copy in excellent shape, and listed for $45.  Well, all I needed was a cover that could be read in a photo, so opted for a copy listed as acceptable, and it sold for $5.00 with $3.99 shipping.  Today the book came.

I have a copy that is a hardback, with a nice clear cover, and inside it shows it to be a First Edition copy printed in 1911.  That made my day.

So now the rest of the story.  A week ago Deb and a longtime friend drove to McCall for her friend's birthday and a lunch together--she'd not been there in the ten years she's lived here.  They took their time, took their cameras, and took lots and lots of photos.  Along the way, Deb told me on her return, she'd found a suitable spot to duplicate the photo of Dode.  So now we await the time to dress up Erin, go towards McCall, take the book along and duplicate another family photo.  I'm excited.  Maybe we are starting a trend.  Need to see if I can find a picture of my great grandmother doing something interesting and go for a third generation.

Thanks for taking us along on the trip to great memories Dee Dee!

The Matriarchs

Tomorrow is Mother's Day.  The Day of the Family Matriarchs.  All of mine are gone, but because of my work in the family genealogy, I likely know much more about my great grand mothers than I did growing up.  And both my grandmothers are more familiar to me now since only one lived nearby while I was a child.

The women in our family were strong willed women, had great common sense, could manage money to the penny, knew cooking, crafts and how to get as much out of a set of clothes or the raw materials for a meal as was at all possible--they had to.  Amelia Kunze Calvert and her daughter Dora Grace Calvert Hurd traveled the Oregon Trail from Missouri to the Northwest about 1903.  Leannah Manis Herd was born in Rogersville, Tennessee in 1860 and was still living there when she died in 1900 having given birth to eight children, four girls and four boys including my maternal grandfather.

Caroline Amanda Bush Krieger was born in Ohio and married an immigrant in 1879.  The following year she gave birth to a son in the early spring.  A month later she buried her first child after he died from the whooping cough.  This was so typical, and was indicative of the times and the conditions in which the families lived.  She delivered eight more children, four girls and four more boys, two of them dying before they were three years old.  Her daughter Myrtle Gertrude Krieger Moore Shaw (my paternal grandmother) raised four girls and eight boys plus one of her daughter's sons for a nice round thirteen.  After my dad was kicked in the forehead by their milk cow, Gramma Shaw picked the dirt and debris out of the wound, and nursed him back to health.  There were no doctors within forty miles, and even had there been they didn't have the money to pay one.  She kept it clean and taped it as best she could.  He ended up with a big smiling scar on his forehead, but he survived.

Isabella B. Livingston Moore married at the age of eighteen.  In ten years she had two daughters and four sons losing her husband when the youngest was not yet delivered.  She took the two youngest boys to her Aunt who was married to a minister named Shaw.  We don't know if there was ever a formal adoption, but the boys took the last name and hence why I'm a Shaw.  The other kids were old enough that she was able to raise them.  She outlived two more husbands dying in 1946 when I was four years old.  The resolve of those hardy women is why families survived in spite of the numerous challenges and tragedies they faced.

And today I go forward, carrying a little part of each of you beautiful women within me.  I hope those traits I inherited are what have made me a better person in life, a kinder gentler soul, but one who can buck up when the going gets tough and be a survivor.  I am who I am because of you.  Thank you very much. Love you all. 

On the Road when Winter is Ending

Kind of a funny thought really, since I try to ride year around, but when I no longer need long johns and a mask around the throat then I know Winter is in fact Ending and spring is just around the corner.  So up yesterday, jeans, shirt and vest, leather jacket, gloves and my HD pot helmet and was off to Birds of Prey.  Typical March morning with some good winds, but still entirely workable.

The benefit was at 1700 when I headed down to Costco to pickup Deb's contacts, the wind had died down and the temp was up to about 55F.  Debated tying the leather jacket to the bike, but didn't.  Got the contacts, headed home arriving just after 1800 with Matt coming over at 1815 so we could ride to an Idaho Gold Prospectors' Association (IGPA) Meeting down near the airport.  Temps were still around mid 50's and the wind had died down completely.

Turns out the incoming president of the IGPA was Matt's boss and had invited us as guests to come to a meeting. It lasted about an hour, they gave away a "ton of items" for gold prospecting and showed some nice nuggets and jewelry.  However, the thrust of the meeting was about the claim they have, maintaining it in a good shape, protecting the environment and planning ahead to ensure they also contribute to the community through things like a roadside cleanup this spring.

It was fun and reminded me of my first trip to the field after buying a metal/gold detector a few years back.  Gerry, our trainer told us the weekend would be spent concentrating on finding the smallest "nugget" possible -- a picker.  I think I must have taken first place as confirmed by the photo.  Yes, that was picked up on a sweep, and after much sifting, and gently blowing away dirt all that was left was the little bugger on the swirl of the finger print. The point -- if you can find those, anything bigger will seem like it's screaming at you.

So meeting over, we headed back home with a stop at the Black Bear Diner for a late dinner.  Matt and I had a great chat over dinner, separated a few blocks away as he headed West and I headed North for the house.  What a great night riding with two of my sons...

A New Road with Family

Being on the road with family can mean a lot of things--heading to church, the grocery store, a movie; on vacation, taking a weekend to visit.  Today, I had a chance to be on the road with family, and found a new road to take.  It was a surprise, it was exciting, it was heart-warming, and most of all it was fulfillment of another wish, another dream.

From the Shaws and Kriegers, my paternal grandparents, if we learned nothing else, we learned the most important thing was family.  I recall weekends were always spent at one of the twelve Shaw kid's homes with several of the brothers and sisters there, along with all their kids.  The adults played cards most evenings, and we kids ran rampant through the yard during the afternoons, and found games to play inside at night.  And, of course, we ate.  There was always lots of food.  It wasn't fancy, but it was staple, and it was plentiful--fried chicken was common, we always had lots of mashed potatoes, a treat was Aunt Annie's fried bread.  Most evenings they played pinochle, but some nites they played Blackjack, but called it 21.  Then the older kids got to play, and it was used to teach us to add quickly in our heads. 

But, here I've digressed.  It's just that family always brings back so many great memories--as it should.  About thirty years ago my family put together a family history book.  One of the cousins, Darlene, took the lead and got the majority of the family to write down dates and places of births, deaths, marriages, and other significant life events.  She also asked everyone to write down a few pages of memories of the family.  While not documented, most of the information was at least close if not accurate. 

After I retired, I picked up the journey, and went through the book, put all the information online into a family tree.  One of my cousins Chris, scanned the whole book, put it into a pdf file and we were able to upload it to the family tree site so coming generations would have access to it.  It's been a marvelous journey, and one I feel fortunate to have traveled. 

As with all travels, we occasionally run into deadends, or make wrong turns.  I've found sufficient along the way, and while disappointing at the time, they can sometimes have the best of outcomes.  Today was one of those days we squeaked through a narrow road and ended up in front of a beautiful destination.

Michael Krieger and Caroline Amanda Bush married in 1879 in Nebraska.  The "Book" records show they had nine children, all born in Sutton, Clay County, Nebraska.  The first born was John W. born January 28, 1880 and died in infancy on February 28, 1880.  Despite several searches, I could find no documentation for John W., could not find burial information, nor a gravesite.  Finally, I located a 1880 Census for Michael and Amanda, and it was enumerated in Farmers Valley, Hamilton County, Nebraska.  I went to Find-a-Grave online and searched to see if there is a cemetery there, and if so if there might be a John W. Krieger interred there.  I found a cemetery, but no John W. Krieger.  However, there was a single tombstone for the unknown dead.  On February 20th, I submitted a photo request, and asked if someone might be able to "...just look around". 

Today, I had a note from Find-a-Grave, and opened it.  A wonderful lady "Wendy" wrote back to me, "Well, it was a BEAUTIFUL day here in Nebraska so I headed out with my camera to fulfill some requests. Lucky you - yours was on my list! Wow! Farmer's Valley Cemetery is such a beautiful little pioneer cemetery! Anyway, I did find a "Krieger" marker - the only one there. I am pretty sure it is who you are looking for, but I wanted to pass a little information by you before I post the pictures. The marker was for a William Krieger. Could be your John W. was called William. He was born on Jan. 28, 1880 and died on Febr. 28, 1880. It says he was the son of A. and M. Krieger. Amanda and Michael? If you think this is him, let me know and I will post the pictures. As, I said, there were no other Krieger headstones that I found, so don't know where the parents are buried. Wendy"

It was a match to both Caroline Amanda and Michael Krieger, and the dates were exact.  I wrote back, and within the hour, Wendy had posted the photos, established a memorial online, and sent me another note, "I am glad I could help you out. I so enjoyed my visit to this little cemetery. Someone obviously cares alot about the cemetery. I think this is the first cemetery I have ever been to that had outhouses! Yep - two of them nestled in the corner. It had a nice cement picnic table and other signs that it was not a forgotten place. EVERY grave had flowers on them so there was not a single forgotten person there. So, don't worry about little William. Someone is taking care of his gravesite. :) ...Again, fulfilling this request was truely a pleasure! Enjoy!! Wendy."

So now we have completed another journey and found another ancestor along the way.  It's when you are up against a road block, at a deadend, when the research truck seems to be deeply mired in the muddy records of history, that someone like Wendy comes along and gives you the tug you need.  And, these are the events that keep us researching, and hopefully helping others as Wendy has helped us.  Thanks a million Lady.  You've definitely made this a great ride.  VR. Mags.

Photo taken by Wendy Redman Hudson, posted on Find-a-Grave 14 Mar 2012. 

Life is SO Great!!!!!

This week our first daughter-in-law is On The Road.  She went down to San Diego to be with her son (our first grandson) and her daughter-in-law.  Tonight she was blessed with seeing her first grand child, a baby girl weighing in at eight pounds three ounces -- Miss Ava Grace Slemp.  Adam and Alexis, parents are doing well, and the grandparents are also doing well.  We know Rex is watching too.
The birth of a child is a wonderous and spiritual thing.  It is God's blessing on us that we are worthy of still trying to perfect human kind.  It is a miracle that such a little life began nine months ago, and within the womb has developed and grown to be the perfect image of it's parents.  The little tiny fingers have nails, along with little creases and wrinkles.  There are eyelashes on those beautiful eyes, and the little feet and toes are such precious representations of adults but in miniature.  Life is so precious and delicate, while at the same time such a demonstration of strength and endurance. 
We can only wonder and hope about who and what this beautiful little girl will be someday, but today, this evening, she is the greatest miracle known to mankind.  She knows no hate, no prejudice, no anger, only a need for love, human warmth and a mother's milk.  We thank God for her safe arrival, and for her mother's good health.  We ask your prayers over her as she grows, and ask for those same prayers for her mom and dad as they find their way as new parents.  The one thing we know she will have--a great deal of love. 
Oh, and thanks so much for allowing Deb and me to become Great Grandparents.  We are very proud!

The Youngest Granddaughter

My middle daughter was up for Christmas from Texas bringing her family.  It was wonderful.  We tried to schedule activities to stay busy so we weren't just sitting around in front of the TV.  One day we went up to Garden Valley to go tubing.  It was absolutely fantastic, the hill was great and the people were so friendly and customer focused.  PLUS, it snowed all day long from the time we started up the hill to go over into Horseshoe Bend until we came back.

On the way home my youngest (ten year old) granddaughter had her phone on googling information and asking her dad questions about the information she was finding online.  We were almost home, and she began to ask questions about cows--how much they eat, how much milk they produce, etc.  So as we stopped at a light, I threw in the question, "Mikayla, do you know how much methane gas a cow makes daily?"  A quick peek in the rearview mirror and it was clear from the look on her face she had no idea what I was asking.  So, I asked her if she knew what methane gas was.  Well, still got that same deer in the headlights look from her, so the next question, in an attempt to be a caring grandfather and use decent language was, "Do you know what flatulence is Mikayla?"  A curt, "No!" and the continued blank stare told me my efforts to be polite with her was going no where.  Finally, I said, "It's like when you toot!"

I then got the look of understanding, and, "OH, you mean a fart!  Why didn't you just say that in the first place Papa?"  Guess I'm still catching up with the modern generation!

Give me a ping, Vasili. One ping only, please.

A line from "Red October." A great line from Red October. So, continuing with my trip to Texas. Anyone who has ever been to Texas must know of What-A-Burger. Simple, but so good. Everytime I return to Texas to see my kids one of our stops is at a What-A-Burger before Papa gets out of town. It was looking like that wasn't going to happen this time as the week drew to an end.

The band in which Caleb plays has a trend now that when they play on Friday nights, the last thing on the way home is a stop at What-A-Burger since they have been on the go since 0630 that morning with no stops. As we walked over with Caleb to put away his instruments, and give him some money for the burger stop, I asked him if he'd mind just grabbing a burger and bringing it home to me. Then we wouldn't have to worry about a stop on Saturday, our last chance to visit What-A-Burger. He asked what kind I wanted, and so I told him just a burger, simple, single burger, with mustard.

We went on home to start a fire in the fire pit out on the patio, and after it was going, Tonya, Mikayla and I sat out there chatting and waiting for Caleb and his friends to show. Finally about a quarter to midnite they made it back and came out with the bags of goodies from What-A-Burger. They pulled out burgers and passed them around to each other, and at the end Caleb's friend pulled out a styrofoam box. "What's this? They never put anything in styrofoam!" Caleb replied, "That's the burger for my Papa." As we opened it, it was a single burger with a little side cup of mustard--a single burger pattie that is. No bun, no lettuce, no tomato, just a single pattie and a little cup of mustard.

Caleb, was mortified, and explained when he ordered it, the girl kept saying you want just a single burger, and he kept saying yes, "Give me a single burger, lady. One pattie only, please!" You gotta love the communications with wait staff sometimes.

Nothing of humor, or frustration, just a quick note since I'm on the road again. To Texas this week to visit two of my daughters, their husbands and most of the grandkids. One is off serving our country in the Navy, two are in Jamaica, and five are here. The two oldest here are working and in college, so see them in the evenings usually over dinner, or a fleeting "Hi Papa" as they are making sure to at least poke a head in between class and work. What neat young adults they are -- polite, loving and caring, and most of all "GREAT" grands.

One is a football player and played last night Thanks to the Lord. I say that because last week he got a concussion playing. Wasn't sure we'd get to see him on the field this week. However, since he is also their kicker, they let him do that as long as he agreed NOT to go down field. They won 34-13.

Another is in the Wylie High Band, and tonight we get to go to the Varsity game and see them perform before the game and again at half time. We went early to pick him up from practice this week one night and it was awesome seeing all those young people on the field practicing their hearts out and working so hard. They are super, and of course "My" grandson is exceptional. He will play again tomorrow in competition and we will go see that too, of course.

And, last but certainly not least is a granddaughter in Drill Team who will participate tomorrow. She is so affectionate and sweet. Last night she took her homework with her when we went to the game so she could get it done, and still see her cousin play and be with family. Wish they lived closer.

It's too bad that we have to get older to realize how important these moments are with our kids and grandkids. As I see one grandson weekly I realize how much I love it, and how much I miss the ones who are farther away, AND how much I missed being in the service as kids were growing up. It is so important to be there. I'm still exceptionally proud to have served and done three tours in VN, but there was a cost to it, and I think very often how I'd rather have not been "On the Road" while they were growing up. You can never get that time back!!!!!