American Hope

Note; This post is a year in the making.  It is about hope for America.  Life has thrown a few setbacks and hope had a hard time shining through.  Then I had the opportunity to visit the John F. Kennedy library in Boston last week.  Fifty years after his death JFK gives me hope.  So after a year in the box, what do you think America?

I have been accused of having a poor memory.  The truth is it is more like selective memory.  Most of us fall into this category.  There have been times in our history when we all grab onto a memory and hold it for life.  The good times and the bad times.  The traumatic and the great.  I’m not going to talk about the days watching Kennedy burial or the towers falling.  Let’s talk about hope.

My first memory of hope was of a young President Kennedy in front of the camera, speaking at Rice University September 12th, 1962;  “We choose to go to the Moon, not because it is easy but, because it is hard”.  If you would like to listen to the speech;  http://er.jsc.nasa.gov/seh/ricetalk.htm.  There were thousands of hours over many years leading up to that decision.  It was that moment in time that I understood what it was like to be a proud American.

My second memory of hope was the very second that Neil Armstrong put his foot (OUR FOOT) on the moon.  Neil Armstrong said it best; “That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind”.   Neil Armstrong did not consider himself a hero.  He once said that when his foot touched the moon it was for every American now and for all those that would follow.

The third time was during a speech by President Ronald Reagan.  Part of his speech;

“The poet called Miss Liberty's torch the ``lamp beside the golden door.'' Well, that was the entrance to America, and it still is. And now you really know why we're here tonight.

The glistening hope of that lamp is still ours. Every promise, every opportunity is still golden in this land. And through that golden door our children can walk into tomorrow with the knowledge that no one can be denied the promise that is America.

Her heart is full; her door is still golden, her future bright. She has arms big enough to comfort and strong enough to support, for the strength in her arms is the strength of her people. She will carry on in the eighties unafraid, unashamed, and unsurpassed.

In this springtime of hope, some lights seem eternal; America's is.

Thank you, God bless you, and God bless America.”

Is America done?  Where is our hope for our future?  I feel the hope trying to get past all the rhetoric coming out of Washington.  I hear the hope of everyday Americans fighting for opportunity.  I see young high school graduates that are reaching for something to be hopeful about.  As long as our Government rules the people it is very hard for all this hope to find a foothold.  Maybe it is time for the Government to get out of the way and let Americans build our future?  You want to see hope?  Give someone an opportunity to earn a job rather than hand him a check.  You want to see hope?  Let people make a lot of money and not treat them like a criminal.

America is hope!   We hear how much the world hates America however, people from all over this world want to come to America.  Why is America the greatest country this world has ever seen?  The answer may be in it’s people.  American’s are from every country, every religion, every belief, every color, every age, height, weight, and with physical and mental limitations.  Together there is nothing we can not do.  The differences are what unite us.

Kevin’s Story, Part 31, Fire Department Volunteer

Some little boys are interested in family history, some want to grow up and be a soldier or a policeman, most want to be just like there dad, I wanted to be a fireman.  In the 1950's those that served their country were honored above all.  The next best thing was serving your community.  As a little boy, all I saw was the glitz and glamour of being a fireman.  I could imagine myself climbing that 30 foot ladder grabbing that little kid, putting them over my shoulder and taking them to safety.  Or holding onto that fire hose and saving a house.

With friends devoting there lives to the fire department I understand what it means to serve.  When they serve there whole family serves.  They don’t get a lot of high fives from the community like I thought they would.  Maybe a nod on the forth of July when they blow the horn of the fire engine.  Our dedicated firemen are just unbelievable.  No way I could fill their shoes.  We took a group of young boys down to the local fire department for a tour ten years ago.  The kids got way more than a tour, they got to see what a fireman’s life is like.  At the end of the tour they got out the sixty foot ladder truck and showed us how they fight a fire on a high rise.  Each and every firemen had that glint in the eye that I must have had at five years old.  Every time we dial 911, they come flying in the door ready to help.  The whole emergency response team shows up at the door in less than five minutes.

To all of you that give so much so that we can have a better life, we are thankful that your dream came true.

Kevin’s Story, Part 26, The Fly Boy

Maggie did not have it easy.  Of course taking care of a child that minds perfectly should be simple but the big boy, who weighed all most as much as his Mom, was not very healthy.  The doctor wrote; he was hospitalized for eight days on Jun 17, 1958 for possible Rheumatic Fever.  At that time low grade temperature elevated se. rate 27 mg. Per. Grade 1 cystoloc murmur was heard-maximum at 4th left interspace-tonsils were enlarged not injected, cervical glands were small.  Following hospital discharge he came down with acute tonsilitis which responded to penicillin.  He was considered a potential Rheumatic Fever suspect and treated accordingly with limited activity.  ECG taken,  showed evidence of Myocarditis.  He had an episode of Bronchitis in September of 1958 which responded to TAO Suspension.  He also was given HesperC liquid as a prophylactic against respiratory infection.  Heart murmur remained unchanged.  Tonsils enlarged somewhat moderately.  B. L. Shapero M. D.  Thanks doc you fixed me.

This was starting to get expensive.  Then of course were the doctor visits she would have to be making for herself soon.  There was another one on the way.  See, she had met this fly boy. Let’s go back a year.

She worked at Dow Airfield and there were a lot of pilots flying in and out.  She happened to meet one that was not in the service but flew for a Government contractor.  His job was to wait for a prototype part to come to the cold country for testing.  They had to install the parts in real conditions before they were certified to go into production.  So the fly boy would install the part and then test it in actual flight conditions.  He would travel to New Foundland, Iceland, and Greenland testing parts and then return.  The fly boy got a glimpse of the auburn hair and there was no turning back.  Must have been the little boy that sealed the deal because they would stay together for the rest of there lives.  The fly boy had a family, and it would soon be growing.

Continued . . . . .

Kevin’s Story, Part 25, The Window

Let’s back up just a couple years, maybe to 1954, continued from Part 4 posted in April.  News was in the newspaper and on the radio.  Television was becoming more affordable.  You could pick up a brand new 19" black and white set for about $150.00.  The median household income was about $5,000.00 per year, so not everyone was lining up to buy a new set.   However, if you worked for a television shop you got a discount and it wasn’t long before Maggie’s Dad got a new set.  He would have just a few months of TV watching before he went to meet his maker.  By then Maggie had bigger challenges.  She was going to have to share the news that she was in trouble.

Three big brothers, there wives, step Mom, sister, Aunts and Uncle’s.  The consensus of opinion, adoption.  In 1954 girls did not become pregnant.  They went on holiday to some far away place and came back six months later like nothing had happened.  (Sidebar; [I got that from the OJ trial], we did not understand the mental damage that giving up a child for adoption would cause in the 1950's.  It wasn’t until abortion was legalized and we found out about the life long mental damage it caused that we looked at how hard it was to give up a child for adoption.)  You can imagine that I favor anything but abortion.  If you are on Facebook, search for the +9 group.  I should be the poster child because my Mom could have gone the easy way with an abortion or give me up for adoption.  It was much harder on a female then.  The right to chose is much easier the day you chose than living with the choice forever.  If you find it difficult living with a choice you made, please seek help from your church or pregnancy resource center in your area.

I am thankful that Maggie chose life for me.  It would take Maggie another 18 months before she could take me home.  She gave everything she had during those 18 months to make a home.  Back then you did not get a reward check every month for having a child you could not take care of.  Women did not have many options for work that paid enough to support a family.  Maggie found a job as a ward clerk at the Governments Dow Air Field hospital.  She found a one bedroom apartment in downtown Bangor and got to work by bus.  She would break that kid out of foster care and raise him by herself with no help from anybody.

Think back to when you were two years old.  Do you have any memories that far back?  I have one thing I can remember.  I must have been two years old and must have been in trouble.  I was required to stay on Mom’s big bed (I guess that was a time out) and take a nap.  I was not allowed to get off the bed for any reason.  (You may not have the whole picture.  It’s Bangor Maine, in the fall, cold breezy day, maybe in the 40's) Mom puts down the laundry basket, bends over grabs the latch on each side of the window, gives it everything a 5 foot 2 inch girl can give and the window finally comes up about 2 feet.  She grabs the laundry basket, bends over like a girl jumping hurtles, climbs out the window onto the roof.  I don’t ever remember being able to go outside that window and play.  I can’t see my Mom from my position on the bed.  I slowly and quietly lean over, , , , more, , , , a little bit more, , , , can’t see anything, , , more, , , oops.  I jump to my feet and try to get back on the bed but I can’t climb that thing because the bedspread pulls down when I pull up.  (I may have been vertically challenged then but I had plenty of weight) The bedspread on the floor and I have no way up on the bed.  I’m in trouble but, Mom didn’t yell yet???  Well since I’m down on the floor anyway, I slowly and quietly make my way over to the window.  Maybe I could go out and play with Mom.  I slowly peek around the window molding and see my Mom hanging up clothes.  ON THE ROOF?  This looks like a lot of fun so, being the good helper that I am, I throw a leg over the window ledge and the next 60 seconds is probably why I remember the story.

Continued . . . . .

Kevin’s Story, Part 19, Another What #2?

brother.

Well I only have one younger brother.  Talk about torment, how did that kid ever make it through childhood.  Well if this new brother is anything like the little brother, I will really be blessed.

He passed away in 1986.  Damn.

He was 25 years older than you, and very successful.  He had a construction company that built roads, housing developments, and anything else he could get his hands into.  I think I should have met him 25 years ago, maybe he could have taught me how to run a successful business.

Yes he was married, lived in Connecticut and has a great family.  There are kids and grandkids, and great grand kids.  “Do you want all there names?”  I’m feeling like I’m coming to the end of this story so I turn over the 3 by 5 paper and start writing on the back.  He had a daughter then a son three years later.  The son passed away though. (very sad face, two family members that I will not get to meet.)  Then he got re-married and had a girl, then another girl, then another girl, then a couple boys.  My paper, poor penmanship, and the holes due to the pencil are very sad.  As I’m writing I''m looking around the truck for the next scrap of paper, because I’m not going to fit all these names.

If you have ever worked on ancestry.com you know how valuable the information, spelling, and dates really are.  I am trying to get everything down.  Still focusing on the construction company part as I’m writing.  My hero, and I never got to shake his hand.

So I get it all down, I'm fixin’ to take a breath, need to say good buy before the battery dies, but before I open my mouth she says;

And you have another . . . . Oh my!  Now I know what my bio-dad’s calling was.

To Be Continued . . . . . . .

Kevin’s Story, Part 18, Another What?

sister.

First I was thrilled to have another sister.  Mind you, I’m not lacking in the sister department.  I have adequately tormented two sisters for all there lives but, this is a new one.  Poor girl, she has no idea.  With an older sister, there are advantages.  They can tell you all about girls.  (No, I don't have them figured out yet!) When you are down, there is nothing better than five minutes on the phone with your big sister.  I have gone along just fine with younger sisters however, an older sister, this is new.  I probably scared the girl by talking a hundred miles an hour (California talk) to a poor girl that talks half speed (that’s Maine talk).  In the beginning she was just warming up, now she can keep up with the west coast speed.

And she says, oh by the way, you have another sister. . . . ......  OMG (that’s young people talk for Oh My God)  But my battery is gonna die.

The ancestry dude in me went into high gear.  One thousand questions, a 3 by 5 inch piece of paper, a pencil, and one knee.  (I never use a pencil, they poke holes in paper???)  I’m writing as fast as I can, is she married, what is her birthday, is she married (oops), I mean does she have any kids, what’s there names, when were they born, who’s her daddy?  She is talking the Maine talk speed but the California speed can only write at 25 percent of Maine speed.

Yes a husband and kids and living in Maine.  Another Maineac?  Kids, grand kids, a nurse, in the Army, (Well that tells me a whole bunch.  Guess I'm goinna have to break out my curse words that I learned while riding aircraft carriers.  I have an enormous amount of respect for anyone that serves our Country, specially the girls.  They not only have to put up with the enemy but, they have to put up with all the boys on our side too.)  I’m writing, poking holes in my leg, can’t read what I just wrote and she had the audacity to say

“And you have another . . . . . .”

To Be Continued . . . . . . .

Kevin’s Story, Part 17, The Call

Ring....Ring.....Ring....

This is Kevin

This is your sister.

pause . . . . (while I pull over with out wrecking the truck)

She tells me this story; when I was little, you and I were playing together, and I overheard all the Aunts saying “Wow they look just alike”.  I was at your Uncles house and we were playing in the front room.  I remembered that and asked my Mom one day.  Do I have a brother?  Mom said; “Yeeuup” (That’s Maine talk for yes)

(How is it that the whole world knows I’m adopted but I don’t?)
She continues; twenty years ago we were getting ready to have a family reunion and I tried to get in touch with you.  I contacted your Mom.  (Oh?)  She talked me out of contacting you at the time.   (Oh?)

Later, as I was putting pieces of the puzzle together, I thought back to a phone call I made to my Mom as I was traveling on the East coast.  I drove from Virginia to Maine.  As I entered my birth town I realized I didn’t know what to look at, what to take a picture of.

Mom, where did we live, where was I born, do you want me to take any pictures while I’m here?  I don’t remember the answers but that must have made her very uncomfortable about the secret.  I’m sorry for that.

Big sister and I talked for about 30 seconds (actually about an hour and a half) before I said my battery was getting ready to die.  Damn cell phones.

Then she says, oh by the way, you have another

To Be Continued . . . . . . .

Kevin’s Story, Part 16, Looking for the sister

A sister?

Who, where, when, who?

I was talking to a cousin and they mentioned that they had been friends with your sister for a long time.  What’s her name?  I don’t know much of anything else, you’ll have to ask him.

Pause for 3 weeks while I try to get hold of him by phone.  (This is killing me) (Not the Jeff Dunham - Achmed the Dead Terrorist "I KILL YOU") The phone fell out of my hand when he finally answered.  I thought I had lost the connection.  Damn cell phones.  I understand that I may have a sister running around out there?  Yeeeessss.

What’s her name, how do you know her, what, what, how, what?

So I will call her and ask her to call you.  OKAY!

Just to find out a little piece of information, wow.  How exciting.  The joy of finding out the possibility of a sister.

The wait.

A word of wisdom from someone with not much of it.  Change the way you look at family.  Stop judging, stop saying bad things about them, stop tearing them down, stop being jealous.  Start forgetting the bad stuff in the past, start to remember the good stuff, start looking at them for who they are, start enjoying them while you have them.  Life is too short to hold onto the bad stuff and not long enough to find out about the good stuff.

To Be Continued . . . . . . .

Kevin’s Story, Part 15, The secret

The family decides to divulge the secret.

The unknown?  It’s like a drug!  I don’t mean the 1960's kind of drug, I mean after you get a taste you can’t stop kinda drug.  With each answer, I had a hundred more questions.  You hear stories of people looking for there families to get money, or don’t try to find family because they are afraid they will take there money.  Most, I believe, just want to know about where they came from.  The first thing that popped into mind; “Maybe I have a brother or sister.”  I tend to be more of a steam roller and barge right in shaking hands person.  Not the kinda guy that asks permission to meet the bio-dad, I would knock on the door and say Hi Dad!

I can not imagine what it would be like to have a huge secret entrusted to you.  Mom wanted to ensure that all her children were treated the same.  (They were) Didn’t want anyone to get hurt or feel like less of a family member.  She worked so hard to ensure that each family member would get the same amount spent on them at Christmas.  How about the rest of the family?  How do you not tell stories about the first five years of someone’s life?  Thirty years later when your asked about something, how do you not tell?  How do you carry this secret?  Mom and Dad, now gone for over a decade, it’s time to tell him.

The email comes, you may have a sister!

That changed my life forever.

To Be Continued . . . . . . .

Kevin’s Story, Part 14, The Bio-Dad

So now I have what I call a bio-dad.  And so starts a most fantastic journey into my past - - - -.  Are you wondering about your birth certificate yet?

I did have a name, many don’t have that much.  I tried 411, Google, and could not come up with a viable bio-dad.  There are some great resources.  Cindi’s list is a great starting point for records of any kind.  www.cindislist.com.

One huge challenge for ancestry researchers is too much information.  The bio-dad’s last name is as popular in England as Smith is in America.  When Google returns 1,790,000 possible hits you know you are in trouble.  This is when I started to study how Google works.  It is amazing how you can add a + or a - or even “ ” to get something completely different.  I recently bought a book about using Google as a research tool written by Lisa Loiuse Cooke called The Genealogist’s Google Toolbox.  If that book was available two years ago I could have saved thousands of hours.  You don’t have to be a Genealogist to learn a lot from this book.  For more information about the book look at her blog http://genealogygemspodcast.blogspot.com .

I remember a cousin asked if I wanted all the information? (Refer to part 9)  What does that mean?  Yes, why?  Well, do we want to have everything like past marriages, step brother and sisters?  Of course!  How about un-advertised past families?  We want to get history as correct as we can.  Even if it isn’t the most popular, we should err on the side of correct.  Even your past?  MINE? Of course, as correct as possible.  Pause for a couple months.

To Be Continued . . . . . . .

Having a Child

When you are young you really don’t think about having a child or being a parent.  Oh I knew when I was a teenager that I wanted a family some day, but I never really thought about it.  When I got married I didn’t even think about it.  Not until I found out my wife didn’t want children.  Don’t you think I should have asked that after a few dates and not a few years after marriage.  I just assumed everyone wanted a house full of kids.  Never thought how much that might cost or how I was going to support them.

You can never really know what love is until you have a child. I have never adopted a child but I guess it is just about the same.  When I was talking to wife two on the phone (1300 miles away) she said we are pregnant.  It took my breath away.  I don’t think I ever really understood what happiness was until that second.  When you hold that baby for the first time I am positive that God has your back.  That is when I understood what a blessing meant.  It wasn’t just written in a book, it was happening to us.

From my perspective (a guy that doesn’t think too much about stuff) going through everything is worth that first time you are introduced to the little person that just changed your life forever.  Wife two told me that if I wanted another one that I would have to have it myself.  If that was really possible, I might chicken out.

Kevin’s Story, Part 13, Three Sides To Every Story PG-13 Version

Family histories are shaped by those telling the stories.  Do you know what happened in the past?  Who really slept with who?  Why is my hair a different color than my parents?  Why do I have a huge nose and my brothers and sisters do not?  Did the mail man have a big nose?  Did the milk man have red hair?  Very interesting.

What is on your birth certificate?  I’m not talking about a record of live birth.  Those are generated by those telling the stories.  Is your birth certificate correct?  When asked who was the father, did Mom say Joe the Barber?  Was Joe the Barber really the father or was it Jimmy the ticket taker at the Century Theater?

When the story slipped out (at 45 years old) that I was adopted, I pulled out my wallet and read the names of my mother and father.  I wasn’t adopted.  After a little research a couple years ago I found out that when you are adopted they make a new birth certificate listing the adopting parents.  Oh!  So I write to the state of Maine and ask about my records.  I have to have a certified copy of my birth certificate.  (No the President doesn’t have one of those.)  I send away and get a certified copy that matches the one in my wallet. (Yes, it’s the same one) It just so happens that two years ago Maine allowed you to gain access to your real birth certificate.  I send a petition, with my certified copy to Maine.  That was a long wait.  The names do not match.

To Be Continued . . . . . . .

Sidebar; Just in case you were wondering what I thought about the truth being withheld, I will tell you.  Any young lad can become a bio-dad, it takes a real man to become a father.  It takes a dedicated family man to adopt a child and treat them as he does his own.  I was blessed to have one of each.  Blessed?  You’ll just have to keep reading to find out how.

Grave Research Sites

When I started researching my family history, I had no idea why I would be interested in the final resting place.  It was all about family names.  Then I started collecting surnames.  Next I wanted to know about the history behind the name.  Now I want to know where they are buried.  It’s the only way left to honor those that have gone to meet their Maker. (See note below about footnote)

Finding a grave is simple if all the family members have stayed in the same area for 200 years.  What happens when they start moving around to different states or countries?  Worst yet, what if they do not have a final resting place?  That happens more than you would think.  Many don’t get buried or they get cremated and have their ashes spread all over Manhattan.  Did great uncle Jim get buried under the oak tree in the back yard?  Some families can not afford a grave marker.

I performed a “Random Acts Of Kindness” for someone.  (www.randomactsofkindness.org/, The making of this web site is a random act of kindness in my opinion.  If you want help, they may be able to find someone to help.)  I spent 7 hours at the cemetery looking at every head stone.  And I knew what cemetery the person was buried in.  I actually started over again and after two rows I gave up.  The office did not have records for those buried on that side of the cemetery???  Three different cemeteries at the same location I guess?  A week later I found the person that had the records and they told me exactly what site she was buried on.  No marker to be found. You learn something new every day.

www.interment.net  provides cemetery records on line.  You have to work to get past the advertisements but it pulls information from many different sources.  It’s a last stop for me if all else fails.

www.namesinstone.com  It’s mission is to preserve history by mapping grave sites.  You can upload pictures of grave stones, then transcribe the information on the stone.  The information becomes searchable as data is entered.  You can view a map of the a grave site and then view the stone.  A virtual grave yard, where you can honor the fallen with virtual flowers.  Saves on travel expenses.

www.findagrave.com  is the biggest place to look for graves.  It’s focus is on famous people, so if you think you have famous folks in your background, check them out.  They have a huge amount of resources available.  I use and contribute as often as I can.

www.billiongraves.com is a picture place.  What would happen if you got together a million people armed with iPhone’s?  Maybe a billion pictures of grave sites viewable on a map.  WOW the potential of this is unbelievable.  If you take a picture with a GPS enabled smart phone you get more than the picture.  When you upload the picture to billiongraves that information is attached to the file.  That helps them pinpoint the location on a map that you can view.  Then you transcribe the information from the headstone on the site.  (Fill in the name, dates, and etc.)  Then anyone can search billiongraves to view the grave site.  Did I say WOW?  They are only a few month old, but I estimate will take over the category in no time.

A few other links that you may find useful.

www.cousinconnect.com is a site that you can post question about a family name or see questions already posted by others.  There is a lot of information available.
www.genealogyarchives.com has a family history section.  They give history about surnames.
www.mycinnamontoast.com a search engine of other search engines.
www.mytrees.com a search engine of family trees.
www.familysearch.org will help you find individuals.

There are a lot of additional web sites that have information for a fee.

www.achives.com
www.origins.net
www.ancestry.com  You can develop a family tree at no cost on the site.  Can I just say, thank you very much ancestry.com team for changing genealogy research forever.  (Remember that the people create the trees, is it fact or fiction, check your sources, verify the facts.)
www.footnote.com  I can’t list footnote without an atta boy.  They created footnote pages to honor our hero’s.  There is no charge to view or add to the footnote pages.  Take a look.  www.footnote.com/pages/  Is your ancestor listed there?  It’s a Wiki style site to honor our ancestors.  Go look now.
www.onegreatfamily.com

From www.findagrave.com a great memorial to the late Betty Ford. (Elizabeth Ann Bloomer)
Born April. 8, 1918 and died July 8, 2011.

First Lady of the United States of America. Born on April 8, 1918, she first married William Warren, before marrying future President Gerald Rudolph Ford in 1948. Together they had 4 children. She became First Lady following the resignation of President Richard Milhous Nixon, and served as the First Lady from August 8, 1974-January 20, 1977. In 1987 she released her autobiography entitled, "The Betty Ford Story" (1987), which was made into a movie the same year. The Betty Ford Center in Rancho Mirage, California, a well-known substance abuse clinic, was named in her honor.

Kevin’s Story, Part 12, Force It

So, , , , I decide to force the family history.  I spent two days, first with Yahoo, then Google, then in frustration I  tried ASK.com.  I typed in “who was my Mom’s Grandmother?”  I got something about grandparents day.  Forcing the family history was not working.  Obsessions do not follow logic.  Nor was I able to be logical.  So I wrote a letter.  After another month, I got the contact information and away we go.  I got names for all great grandparents!  This can sometimes be the bridge you need.  With those names I added an additional two generations and 94 cousins to the list.  That was two years ago.  In the last two years we have added almost two thousand more family members.  There are another 25 little green leaves yet to investigate.

Adding names to the family tree doesn’t add a lot of family history.  But, if you have the names, then you get the dates, then comes the Google.  I have only started to research our family history.  Most of the stories have been lost in time.  If the stories were not written down or passed down, you can’t get them back.

Families did not move often.  There could have been major moves to find work or harvest crops but many families stayed in the area for long periods.  If you get stuck, try looking at records for the next town over.  Maybe the next county over.  I was looking for the Grant family in a small county in Maine.  By accident I found a record for another Grant in Maine from a different county.  Come to find out they lived about three miles apart across a river.

To be continued . . . .

July 4th from Footnote.com, a great resource

The United States lost two founding fathers and former presidents on July 4, 1826. Thomas Jefferson, age 83, died at his Monticello home. John Adams, age 90, died a few hours later in Quincy, Massachusetts. His last words were reportedly, “Thomas Jefferson survives,” as he had not yet heard of Jefferson’s death.

In this age of instant access, it’s hard to fathom how slowly word traveled before the telegraph, telephone, and internet. It wasn’t until over a month later, on August 14, 1826, that the news was picked up by The Times in London. The paper published extracts from newspapers which arrived in Liverpool via the ship Canada. One account, reprinted in The Times, tells of “regrets that cannot but mingle with our joy in such a singular dispensation of Providence, as the departure of Jefferson and Adams on the same day, and that day the first jubilee of our independence.”

The Times also ran a piece commemorating Adams and Jefferson the following day from a New York paper dated July 13, 1826.

As noted in the published account above, not only was the coincidence of two of our most important founding fathers dying on the same day remarkable, but the date was also the 50th anniversary of our nation’s most patriotic occasion, the signing of the Declaration of Independence.

Explore Related Items on Footnote

• American Milestone Documents
• Continental Congress - Papers
• Explore more about Adams and Jefferson

Kevin's Story, Part 11, Graduation

Not mine, not a family history graduate, my son graduated from high school this week.  Time keeps ticking along.  It seems like yesterday that he was graduating from Kindergarten.  Amazing how his sister ten years older than he would be teaching the little ones in the same room that he attended only twelve years ago.  Things have changed.  Maggie stepped into the building as a five year old and stepped out of the same building twelve years later as a high school graduate in 1948, Kevin started Kindergarten in Maine, finished Kindergarten in Wilmington California on the other side of the Country.  First grade was in Connecticut, second grade Vallejo, California. Twelve years twelve schools?  Not that bad, maybe nine schools.  It wasn’t easy keeping our children in the same schools for twelve years.

Why couldn’t they teach me how to remember family history in school.  I learned algebra, and trig.  Why not teach the importance of family history.  In the seventh grade (Junior High School when I attended, where did the term middle school come from?  I digress) In the seventh grade they should have a class, Family History 101, that teaches you how to interview your grandparents.  In the eight grade, Family History 201, how to interview your parents.  If only I would have asked a few questions.

My first gift to you, if I can figure out how to attach it, “In The Life Of”.  Get out the video camera and have your kids ask grandma and grandpa a few questions.  https://docs.google.com/viewer?a=v&pid=explorer&chrome=true&srcid=0B6827uafnKGDZWEyZGZmNjMtMTAyMC00OTAwLWE5YzgtMjI5YmNhZmI5MGIy&hl=en_US&authkey=CNCkn_EO

Photo’s, The Dummies Guide, Part 1

What better way to save your family history than to include photo's of your ancestors on that family tree.  If you have a just a few photo’s now, you will probably have a lot of photo’s later.  Find a way to organize your work now.  It will save you from duplicating and wasting your time.

What do you want to do with your photo’s?  Are you going to store them, share them with family members, post them on the Internet for all to see?  Maybe you want to create a memorial slide show for a family member that is no longer with us.  How about your grandma’s 85 birthday party?

Is the quality of your photo good enough?  If you are going to share them on the Internet then maybe they are fine.  What size should the picture be?  Many questions.  Some basic answers will follow.  Most important, I am not a photographer.  If you want the best then consult a pro.  I will try to bring you up to speed to help you with your genealogy work.  Anything past that you should do some additional study.

I love to work on photo’s and use a few programs to help me.  If that’s not your interest, I suggest you get help from someone that loves to.  I suggest you talk to Lisa at http://www.retrophotorestoration.com/.  Take a look at her website and see what is possible.  Lisa is passionate about working with her photo’s and will take the same care with yours.  If you think it is impossible, contact Lisa.
                                                                                                                                          
Most importantly.  Backup your work.  Have a backup plan and stick to it.  If you are going to digitize your pictures, make sure a copy of the work is protected and stored at a different place than the original.

To Be Continued . . . .

Kevins Story, Part 9

Well there’s two sides to every family (not always) and, you guessed it,  I have no information about the other side.  I can remember Uncles and Aunts names.  I remember my Grandfathers name that died before I was born.  I can remember grandma Clem.  The most fantastic lady you could imagine with blue hair.  Her favorite time of day was 6:00 pm when my Dad would come home from work.  They would take turns mentioning it.  Usually within 15 minutes my Dad was pouring a 7 and 7.  For Dad that meant 3 parts Fleischmanns to one part 7up.  For grandma Clem that meant 1 part Fleischmanns to 3 parts 7up.  There was always a bottle of 7up in the fridge.  I made a huge mistake of drinking what was left of the 7up one time.  We not going there with this story.

My Mom’s (Maggie) side of the family was so far away.  Today, you can text your friend that moved away to Japan 6 years ago and he gets the message and responds in under a minute.  In 1960 it was just a little bit different.  I’m sure as the family member was boarding the plane the last words said was I’ll write.  That meant a Christmas card in December with two or three lines scratched real fast because you had 20 more cards to get in tomorrow’s mail.  You would think that anyone that could type as fast as lightning would get more letters out.  Not the case, just too much of life to tend to.  I am sure anyone on the receiving side of one of Maggie’s letters was praying that it was typed.  You could spend all day trying to read her writing.  It is different now, every time I pick up a scrap of paper that has her handwriting on it, I get all choked up.  The smallest things get ya’.  The point?  I don’t have a phone number, haven’t seen anyone in 20 years.  I remember one of the cousins was working on a family tree.  I even got offered a copy of the work.  Why didn’t I pursue that?

How do you spell obsession?  I couldn’t sleep!

Continued . . . .

Kevin's Story, Part 8, read slowly

I guess the family history stopped in Texas some place.  What had happened to that file cabinet?  The answer that my niece needed was in the file cabinet.  If I could just take a look.  I remember they had a son.  I remember his name because it was the same as my Uncle the war hero,  (If you are following along, you will hear a lot about the war hero) I called 411 no help.  I remember only one thing.  He worked for Texas Instruments (TI).  411, I let there fingers do the walkin’ and there fingers found 24 phone numbers, “#@!?”.  This is going to be much harder than I thought.  I get the main number and call ‘em up.  Me; “I would like to talk to my cousin.”,  TI; “We have no one here by that name.”, me; “#@!?”, TI; “He may have transferred to the new division when the company split about 10 years ago.”   So I call up the split off company.  Why not, can’t hurt.  Me; “I would like to talk to my cousin”, TIsplit; “We have no one here by that name”, “we used to have a guy with that last name but that wasn’t his first name.”, me; “may I talk with him please?”  “He hasn’t worked her in years.  “#@!?”  411, not in that town, but we have one in another town.

Ring, ring, ring, “hello”, “are you my cousin?”  He actually was my cousin.  What’s the chance of that?  And he has all his Mom and Dad’s computer records.  I receive them by way of FedEx the next afternoon.  WoW!  Fifteen years labor, thousands of hours, vacation trips, thousands of dollars spent, and in my hand.  What a gift!  There labor of love and devotion, and I will try to honor them by keeping it going.  Any reference to Auntie M has nothing to do with a movie about Oz, but only to give credit where credit is due.

The next 24 hours I spend reading over everything.  So much stuff, now I have to get this organized.  That day Family Tree Maker arrives in the mail.  I load up the program and start to work.  I don’t think I left the chair for days.  With the program comes a trial offer for ancestry.com.  I upload my family tree.  Then something starts happening.  The little green leaf pops up, then another, then hundreds.

To be continued . . .

Kevin's Story, Part 7

The ancestry question is looming.  I now have a list with 22 names on it.  I remember my Aunt Marion and Uncle Henry were really into genealogy research.  They only visited a couple times as I was growing up.  When they did my Uncle Henry would get up early Sunday morning and say “you ready to go”  Off to church we would go.  Only a few times in my life had I seen a man have such a love of the Lord.  Not the going to church ‘cause he has to kinda guy, the kind that is just so positive about the Lords love for us.  He had a profound effect on the rest of my life.  (A different story)  Anyway Uncle Henry would take me to breakfast after church.

Twenty five years go by and I travel to Texas to work at Bell Helicopter.  My Aunt and Uncle do not live far away so I decide to look them up.  I visit with them for four hours and ten minutes, four hours of which they show me the family tree they have been working on.  They are so excited because they just found a long lost family member.  They take me into the hobby room, which has every horizontal surface lined with family tree pages.  A file cabinet full of paper, and stories of trips they have taken to find stuff.  They devoted years to the project, It’s all coming back to me.

Fifteen years go by and I’m thinking, I’ll just give them a call.  Not in the book.  411 no help.  I have no idea how to contact anyone on that side of the family.

To be continued . . .