In an email to my brothers a few days ago, I mentioned September 13 as a trifecta in our family: Before anyone accuses me of being some sort of family-history savant, I must confess the reminders come from the Ancestry app. Something else the app provides? A feature called “Your famous ancestor.” Of course, if you go back enough generations, we’re all related in one way or another. So, no big deal, right? However, this relative in particular is like…
Did you know when your ancestors came over from Germany, one brother settled in Iowa? Farmer Gary got a dreamy look on his face. “There’s really good farm land in Iowa.” For a minute I worried he was planning to load up the wagons and head westward. But Gary’s roots here in southern Indiana are deep. While Gary’s great-great grandfather Adam Werne Sr. immigrated to southern Indiana, his brother Peter headed to Dubuque with his young family. Peter and Margarett…
There was never any question about Joseph Malachy Regan: He was the family patriarch. One glance at this photo says it all: The newly married couple is Cecelia Margaret Regan Cassidy and Francis Raymond Cassidy, my maternal grandparents. The setting is New Haven, Connecticut, on June 24, 1929. And who is that white-haired gentleman sitting between the newlyweds? That’s Grandma’s beloved father, Joe Regan, called “Pop” by his descendants. I guess the seating plan makes sense, as Grandma’s attendants (Grandpa’s…
Another month comes to a close, a month of Rot. By this I mean one book in particular was so disturbing, I had to keep putting it down during the month. Finished it a few days ago, thankfully, even though I knew what the ending would bring. Book 1: Ballet Shoes by Noel Streatfeild I enjoyed this children’s novel as an adult, but would have loved it (and, apparently, the entire series) as a grade schooler. In short, three non-related…
Thank you for your concern about my getting a new heart. I really am eager for them to call me up and tell me to get to the hospital right away. At the same time I am full of fear and anxiety. It is a hell of a way to live for an extended period of time. I find that the best way is to get busy reading, going to movies, or even coming down here to the fisheries and…
Maybe they were on their way to share a coffee and muffin and watch the waves and gulls at Meigs Point. Or perhaps they were on their way to Mass. With Dad driving, Mom could pay attention to what else was happening along the way. On this June morning in 2005, she spied an artist: Lines for the Boy in the School Bus Drawing His pad was braced against the seat before himthe pencil in his handraced to recapturethe picture…
Well technically, she was four days short of her 103rd birthday, but it seems only fair to round up. Alice Plante Maillet was a first cousin to my Grandma, Lucie Plante Vayo. Alice was one of 15 children born to Jean Baptiste and Rose Anne Plante. That’s right: 15. And here they all are: Did a thousand questions just rush into your brain? Sure, times were different when Alice was born in Lewiston, Maine, in 1899. But still, how did…
“Wait! Stop! What’s that?” Comedian Bert Kreischer was riding shotgun in my vehicle. He was shouting with excitement. We’d finished up another day of shooting with the reality-show host and it was time to cool off and go home. But Bert was still revved up. Most of the television personalities I’d dealt with over the years as a publicity liaison turned to stone as soon as the cameras were off. Not Bert Kreischer. He kept chatting, chuckling, and hooting with…
This is the story of Galen Francis Veayo. He was born in Ontario, Canada on September 16, 1920. A twin. His sister’s name was Oleavia. The son of Joseph and Nina, he was the nephew and namesake of Maine educator Galen I. Veayo. He was Dad’s second cousin; their grandfathers were brothers. By the time Galen was 10, his family had moved to his father’s hometown of Bangor, Maine. Galen’s high-school yearbook tells us he collected rare coins. He especially…
When I pulled this short story from a stack of Mom’s college writings, I thought of my sister-in-law Linda. As Farmer Gary and I check out the weather forecast every morning and evening, we end with a quick scroll by the temperatures in family members’ towns (we’ve added Sainte-Croix and Toomebridge recently). As we reach my brother Harry and Linda’s town in Maine, often I cry out a warning: Uh-oh! When Maine is hotter and more humid than Indiana, it’s…