Farmer Gary remembers his mom, Rita, mentioning she had a little sister she never met. This was a bit confusing at first, as Rita was the youngest in the Mike & Rosa Mehling family. It turns out that little Henrietta was born in 1917, a full nine years before Rita’s birth. But sadly, Henrietta never got the chance to grow up. She was only 18 months old when she left this earth. When Gary asked his mom about what happened,…
It’s only just now occurring to me that Dad‘s love of the song “Waltzing Matilda” might be because his mom’s middle name was Mathilda. He’d sing over and over: Once a jolly swagman camped by a billabongUnder the shade of a Coolibah treeAnd he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boiled“You’ll come a Waltzing Matilda with me” If you’re not familiar with Australia’s unofficial national anthem, here’s a 1962 recording by Dad’s favorite folk musician, Richard Dyer-Bennett:…
It’s been exactly 155 years since a wee fellow named Joseph Malachy Regan was born in Belfast, in what is now Northern Ireland. Although I’ve blogged about him several times already, it seems only right to let his youngest daughter, Cecelia, have her say. Grandma was crazy about her father. She was the only one of the Regan girls to marry, and he gave her away in full regalia: Thanks to my middle brother, Dave, who was working on a…
Since retirement three years ago, it’s been fun to dabble in genealogy on Ancestry.com. Our family tree, at this point, looks much wider than tall. Geez, there were some huge families just a few generations back! The DNA tests that Farmer Gary and I took some years ago involved spitting into small tubes and mailing them off to Ancestry. My saliva was bubbly while Gary’s was flat. (I still wonder what that means.) Every so often, Ancestry emails with the…
Farmer Gary has been incredibly patient as this blog has explored mostly my ancestors, as we peer back over the decades. But now, it is (ahem!) time to explore the story of a special clock from long, long ago. Gary remembers that his mom really wanted to inherit that clock. She’d grown up with it, after all. Every Sunday evening, her father – Mike Mehling – would smoke his pipe. Then he would gently remove the clock from its shelf…
The prayer card handed out at Rose Anna Gilbert Plante’s funeral was in French. Even though she lived all but 14 years of her long life in Lewiston, Maine, Rose Anna still listed French as her spoken language on the census form every ten years. “A la douce memoire de …” means “To the sweet memory of …” Rose Anna lived to be 87. She outlived her “epouse,” Jean Vincent Plante by 29 years. (Jean was a brother to my…
Dad – who is this? Do you recognize her? We were going through old black-and-white photos yet again. Dad‘s voice softened, “Oh yes, that’s my Aunt Alice. She was so soft and cuddly. A good hugger.” Alice Plante was one of my paternal grandma‘s younger sisters. Ten years younger, to be exact. As I ticked off the names of the nine Plante siblings from our Ancestry family tree, Dad did the math. What an accomplishment for his grandma; she kept…
While researching my ancestors, I came across an obituary that included this line: He was a survivor of the 1944 Hartford Circus Fire. I’d never heard of this tragedy before. It’s a horrific yet fascinating tale. On July 6, 1944, during a matinee performance of the Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus in Hartford, Connecticut, a carelessly tossed cigarette ignited one of the nation’s worst fires. Of the approximately 7,000 fans who crowded into the huge big top on…
Although worthwhile, researching a family tree is overwhelming. Each generation of ancestors spreads those branches further, to Ireland, Germany, France, Canada. Which limb to explore next? Let’s look to the north and remember Achille and Jane Plante. Here they are on their wedding day in 1901. Both born in Canada, the shoemaker and his bride were 27 and 25 years old. They’d immigrated to the U.S. a few years earlier. Here’s the fancy Certificate of Marriage they received a month…
Back in the ’60s, I was a Junior Girl Scout from the fourth to sixth grade. This was at Sacred Heart Elementary School in Pittsfield, Massachusetts. No matter what you’ve heard about Thin Mints, let me assure you that back then Scouting was all about filling up that green sash with badges. Any girl with a drop of competitiveness in her soul worked every angle to earn more badges that her sisters in green. I scoured the thick blue Girl…