Since I was a teen, I've had a fascination with my family history.  A cousin of my mother's, Elna Horan Newall, was our family's genealogist.  She gifted me with a huge piece of brown butcher paper that outlined at least four generations on my mother's mother's side of the family.  

When Alex Haley's TV show 'Roots' came out in 1977, it built on my fascination with finding my own roots and my own stories.  I spent the next years on and off working on the tree, building wherever I could.  I'd work on it and put it away, sometimes for years.  It seemed there was always something else going on that wouldn't let me devout the time and energy to the search. 

In my later 40s when I was married for the final time and somewhat stable for the first time in my life and had a computer I could actually call my own and use, I purchased a program and managed to put all of my work into it.  I also managed to publish it to some site.  At this point, I wasn't as in tune or familiar with the need to source.  That would come later.

The marriage failed.  That computer was no longer mine.  I tried to back things up but it was all discs then.  I thought everything was lost.  Years later, I had a note from the ex asking me if I wanted these binders I had created.  I said yes, gave him my address and he was kind enough to ship them to me.  I had my research again!  Simultaneously, my parents had died and items that had been long buried such as documents and photos came out and I was able to piece some of the story together from that.

The internet gave me the largest breakthroughs.  I started to look at the various genealogical websites and would type in the names and dates that I had.  I had some inkling of the need to source my finds, so that got better.  I was focused on my mother's mother's family because that's what I had the most of to work with.  There was also a family legend that one of my ancestors fought in the Revolutionary War.  I was also looking for the ancestor that had arrived in this country.  I found a lot more Dutch in my line then I had ever imagined and found all of that fascinating.

This year, my daughter had a project at school about her ancestors.  I bought a 23 and Me test for her thinking we could do that and get more information about her grandfather's side of the family.  The instructions seemed to indicate that the test was not meant for kids, so I didn't administer it to her.  Instead, it sat on a wall shelf for months.  I kept looking at it wondering when I was going to do something with it.  I finally moved.

The test was not a shock because I had already heard of some of our ancestry from my elders.  What was a bit shocking was the amount of Scots.  I had always thought I was mostly Irish, and while that's in there, so much more was Scots.  I'm basically 99% European ancestry. 

After the test, I started looking at YouTube videos and how to use genealogy sites.  There were so many that required a membership or a fee and that didn't make sense to me right now when I'm still committed to working full time and raising two little girls.  I found FamilySearch.org and started entering my data.

That's when the surprises came out.  I truly had no idea.  My father's side of the family, the Currys, had been told they were Orange Irish probably from Cork. I had found nothing to confirm or deny this.  I put in the Curry info that I had from my Grandmother Leona Curry.  That got me to Henry W.  Curry.  From there, FamilySearch already had the branches up and running.  They went on and on and on.

William Curry the III had married a Beatrix Campbell.  She turned out to be a noblewoman and that's where the shock came.  Following her mother's line, Lady Mary Graham, it turned out that I am a direct descendant of the Kings and Queens of Scotland.  My ancestors made history.  I am even distantly related to the current British royalty through all of these varied connections.  

I thought my family of origin would be more interested in these findings.  I've been a bit disappointed in the lack of interest.  It seems like such an amazing thing to me, so I'm going to write about it.

I think what I find amazing is that my ancestry is so illustrious and I'm so regular and plain.  I have done nothing to make history, nor will I ever be remembered for anything I've done or tried to do.  I'm another leaf on the branch of this tree that will not be known in two generations.  I struggle to make a living to support my family even though I'm educated and relatively intelligent, and I haven't made the best choices in romantic relationships in my life.  In that manner, I'm very much like my 13th great-grandmother, Margaret Tudor, Queen of Scotland.  

There are so many stories to tell in this family history, and I hope I am around long enough to uncover them and bring them to life.  

Ancestral documents

How often do you actually get to hold a piece of paper that contains the handwriting of your ancestor?  It gives me goosebumps.  It's a way of connecting across the time and space.

I never knew Irma Nelson, my mother's mother.  I met her one time when she was in a nursing home in Florida.  I was a brat of a sixteen-year-old and couldn't have cared less about meeting her.  I was being taken away from my boyfriend at the time.  I wish I would have had more sense then and realized how fortunate I was to meet her, but alas, that didn't happen.

This first receipt is dated May 15, 1919, and she puts the place in the date line - Friendship, Wis.  The amount is $450.00 which appears to be about $11,000 plus in 2017 dollars.  It is received from James F. Horan, who would have been her brother-in-law, and he is listed as the administrator of the McConick estate.  Interesting that her parents left him in charge of the estate instead of her.  I can only imagine that it was sexism at play.  Women wouldn't have handled much in those days.  My understanding though is that my grandmother was different.  She had a real estate business at one point, and my mom always mentioned that she drove her own car.  I assume that was also unusual in those days.

Grandma Nelson also had the nerve to divorce Mr. Nelson not once but twice.  That's a story for another chapter.

The rest of the receipt says 'Four Hundred Fifty and No/100 dollars.  Money record from C.H. ______, B. M____yard, and R. _______ (looks like proper names) for rec (receipts) for sale of abstract office of the McConick Estate.  She signs her name.  And it's numbered 1.

The next looks like a promissory note.  It has two four cent stamps on it, and it initialed 'McC 8/4/16'.  This says:  Friendship Wisconsin August 4th 1916.  Three years after the date for value received we promise to pay to Hattie Lawson or bearer the sum of Three hundred six Dollars, together with interest at the rate of six percent per annum, payable annually and if the interest is not paid when due it is to draw interest at the same rate as the principal until paid.  With the privilege of keeping the said sum of money for a term of five years, if wanted, there being no arrears of interest.  This note is secured by a mortgage on real estate bearing even____ herewith.  It is signed Frank McConick and Minnie J. McConick.

They paid it off. There is a stamp in purple ink that says 'Paid February 6, 1920'.  The stamp says 'The Neceda Bank, Necedah, Wisconsin.'  I wonder why they had such a formal agreement with someone who I assume was a relative?  And what did they use the money for?  More mysteries.  It's just fascinating to have these documents with the signatures.

Edna McConick Horan is the reason I have a lot of these things

Edna was my great-aunt, the sister of my grandmother, Irma McConick Nelson.

She was born in 1880, and died in 1909.  This photograph is a smaller version of one that I had framed years ago and carried around with me from move to move to move until I finally gave up and let it go to one of my sisters.  I'm not even sure they still have it.

The back of the photo is labeled as follows:

  "This is Edna's new photo taken at the studio in Mankato, while at college Feb. 1903.  To mama.

Other handwriting on the bottom of the photo says:  "Edna McConick, later, Horan.  Given to Elna Horan, in summer of 1923 by Grandma McConick.

I wonder if what college she may have attended and what she might have studied?  There are no other records that I'm aware of or a way to easily obtain this information.  Perhaps it will show up down the road.

This woman gave birth to a baby girl, and five years after she was married, she fell down the stairs in her home, broke her neck and died.  What a sad ending to what seemed like a promising life.

Edna seemed to have the family gene that is missing from my grandmother.  She passed things to her daughter that were important to her who in turn passed them to my mother who passed them to me.  I don't like to see Edna's story end, and maybe it won't, but just due to time constraints, I feel like I need to continue the research into my direct bloodline.  I like to fill in the missing pieces with these other people because they are still family, still ancestors, but focus needs to take priority over quantity.

One of the cool things about this photo is the eyes.  If you cover the face right below the eyes, it's like looking into the eyes of my middle sister, Sue.  It's uncanny.  I find it interesting that certain features remain in families and then others are lost.

A Saint Patrick's Day card and a house fire

The card is vintage.  It has a little girl dressed in the emeralds holding an umbrella and looking up with the big eyes.  It says:  "A daintier maiden never was seen, Than this dear little, sweet little, Irish Colleen.  She is making for you a courtesy so gay Because she is happy on St. Patrick's Day."  The back of the card has a postage stamp worth two cents.  It's dated Burlington Flats, New York, May 17, 1919 a.m.  It's addressed to Miss Elna Horan, Friendship, Wisconsin.  

It says:  "Dear Elna:  Hope this still finds you all well.  We are all over the flue now and hope you will not get it how is your father i am looking for  Hughs(?) people here next week it is a long way to move.  Wish you were coming.  With love from grandma."

I don't have any context for this postcard.  I am assuming it is Jim's mother since it originates in Burlington Flats, but I don't have any desire to dig into that side of the family since it's not my bloodline.  I'm trying to stay with the direct line as much as I can.  Yes, these other lines give me clues to the family of origin, so that's why I'm including these tidbits.  Perhaps future genealogists will take a different approach.

The next postcard is an extensive house fire.  The house looks like a classic design, and it's definitely not a poor person's home.  There is a buggy sitting out front and you can see the water shooting out of the hose.  There are lots of people trying to put out the blaze.

The card has a one cent stamp and is dated Burlington Flats, New York, August 23, 1909, 11 A.M.  It is addressed to James Horan, Friendship, Wisconsin.  It says:  "Friend Jim, This is a photo of our recent fire.  Was very sorry to hear of the death of Edna.  Are you going to stay where you are?  Your friend, I.D.H."  

I have no idea who this person is but he mentions the death and shares a personal photo on a postcard.  Who says there wasn't social media?  

Again, I can only surmise that Jim Horan was some person of means.

The marriage of Edna McConick to James Horan

Edna was my great-aunt on my mother's side.  Many of the materials I have are because of her daughter, Elna Newell.  Elna was a great friend to my mother in addition to being her cousin.  They lived together for a time when my mother first arrived in Wisconsin from Florida.  My mother spent many years visiting Elna as she aged and grew more frail.  I think she hoped Elna would leave her something from her estate, but to my knowledge, that didn't happen.

There are two newspaper articles about the marriage.  The skinny one says the following:
"Married.  Horan - McConick.  A quiet, home wedding took pace at the home of the bride's parents, Mr. and Mrs. D. Frank McConick on Wednesday, September 21st, 1904, at 5 o'clock p.m., when their eldest daughter, Miss Edna Orville and Mr. James F. Horan of Burlington Flats, N.Y., were joined in the holy bonds of matrimony.  Only relatives and avery few intimate of the contracting parties were present.  Mr. and Mrs. Wm. Sweet acted as matron of honor and best man.

The bride and matron of honor were attired in costumes of white silk, and the gentlemen in the conventional black.

The ceremony took place under a beautiful archway of autumn-tinted leaves, fees and wild flowers, Rev. A.H. Smith officiating.  After the ceremony the happy couple were congratulated by all present, after which the were ushered in the the adjoining parlor where the many beautiful wedding presents were displayed.  Following this the company adjourned to the dining room, where the wedding dinner was served.  One pretty incident, was the wearing by the bride of a beautiful, heavily embroidered, white silk shawl, which was worn by her great-aunt upon her wedding day.

The bride is a Friendship girl, most of her life having been passed in the village.  She has many friends among her former schoolmates and people of the village, and is a bright, amiable young lady. The groom is to be congratulated upon winning so fair a bride.

Mr. Horan is a stranger here coming just a few days before the ceremony, but is of a gentlemanly and pleasing appearance, and has favorably impressed the people who have had the pleasure of meeting him.

The young couple will make their future home here, and the PRESS joins their many friends in extending congratulations and best wishes.

The next article is longer and I hope I can piece it together because it's beginning to fall apart.  It is over 100 years old.  The date is September 21, 1904.  This article says:

Married.  McConick-Horan.  A quiet wedding took place at the home of the bride's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Frank McConick, Wednesday evening of last week, at five o'clock p.m. when Miss Edna McConick and Mr. J. F. Horan were united in marriage.  Only relatives and a very few intimate friends being invited.  Mr. and Mrs. Sweet acted as matron of honor and best man to the young couple.

The ladies were attired in costs of white silk while the gentlemen ______ (word there is gone) the conventional black  The ceremony took place beneath a beautiful arch of autumn tinted ferns, leaves and wild flowers, the Rev. A.H. Smith speaking the words that made them forever one.  Congratulations were then t_ ____red (tendered?) by all present and the united _____ (couple?) were ushered into the adjoining parlor to view the many beautiful gifts presented.  They were next led to the dining room _______ take of the sumptuous dinner ________ there spread.

The bride is one of the popular among women of the village with many friends.  She has lived here from childhood and is graduate of our high school.  She possesses the qualities requisite to _____ a happy home, the plan where woman is queen.  The groom is a native of New York state having been morn at _____r.  (?)  He now come from Burlington Flats N.Y. where is has lived many years.  He is a stranger in these parts but comes well recommended as a man of good character and business ability.

The list of presents were as follows:  A.F. Hill, check for $25; G.H. Campbell, check for $5, J.R. Vroman (this would be my great-great-grandfather) check for $5, Mrs. J.R. Vroman (my great-great-grandmother) table cloth and one dozen napping; Miss Holm and Mr. and Mrs. E.E. Smith, fine center table; Mr. and mrs. Sweet, silver mounted carving set; Mr. and Mrs. M. H. Clark, Chicago, silver pie knife, meat fork and gold lined berry spoon; Mr. and Mrs. Clifford Stafford, silver mounted crumb tray and brush; Mr. and Mrs. E. Stafford, silver pickle fork; Mrs. O.E. toilette, Delton, Wis., china fruit dish; Mr. and Mrs. Rev. Smith, china cracker jar; Mr. and Mrs. J.K. Osgood, silver nut picks and cracker; Miss Irma McConick (my grandmother), silver cake basket; Mr. and Mrs. W.A. Whiting, Portage, Wis., pair fancy linen towels; Miss Mary Girling, pair fancy towels; Mr. and Mrs. F. McConick silver gold lined set of teapot creamer, spoon holder and sugar bowl, 1 doz. silver knives and forks, 1 doz. silver teaspoons 1 doz. silver dessert spoons, 1 doz. silver tablespoons, 1 silver butter knife, 1 silver sugar spoon; Mrs. F. McConick, wash bowl and pitcher, 1 table cloth and 1 doz. napkins, 1 doz. linen towels and bed linens, furniture and household goods to numerous to mention.

The young couple will make their home in the village.  The REPORTER _________ in wishing them all kinds of joy and a long life.

There are so many interesting things here.  It sounds like the family had a modicum of wealth. I wonder what happened?  It certainly didn't pass to us.  I wonder where all these items ended up?

Unfortunately, these two did not have a long life.  Edna was born in 1880 and she died in July 9, 1909 so she only had five years in her marriage.  My family lore says that she fell down the stairs at home and broke her neck.  She was 29 years old and left behind a small baby girl, Elna Horan Newall.  Edna died in 1973, and thanks to her, I have all these wonderful treasures.  Thank you, cousin.

Great-Aunt Edna's Reward of Merit

This card was with other documents from my mother's side of the family.  It was a 'Reward of Merit.'  The back says 'Minnie' who would have been Edna's mother, and 'Edna'.  There is something written in pencil but I can't decipher it.  I'll have to get a magnifying glass to see it.

This website talks about these cards.  https://ancestorville.com/blogs/articles/rewards-of-merit

"During the Victorian Era, school children were given paper ephemeral rewards for good behavior, called a Reward of Merit. The top of the card usually reads "Reward of Merit," with the well behaved students name written below, followed by the signature of the teacher who issued the reward. A family may have saved these tokens of merit and recognition throughout the years. "

A birth announcement and a Christmas card from Grandma and Aunt Nancy

Birth announcements in local papers were something very common in the small Midwestern town where I grew up.  So were engagements and deaths.  I believe they were our way of marking the milestones of our lives, finding a way to matter and before social media, it was the way you could notify your family and friends of your big events.  

The Christmas card is from my Grandmother Curry and her daughter, my Aunt Nancy.  It was in 1995 and my grandmother was starting to decline.  She had moved to Reedsburg to be closer to Aunt Nancy who had the responsibility for her care.  Grandma writes:  "Kimberly, The days are slipping away --- still have cards to write.  On my birthday, Bob and Pam came and took us out to lunch --- enjoyed that.  Then group I play cards with called today to come and play bridge but I didn't go.  Had a fall in house last night so was sort of lame.  Didn't think I broke any bones but I was lucky.  Don't know how it happened either --must have caught my shoes on my slacks or something."  She signs it 'Grandmother Curry.'  I wish I would have appreciated these efforts more when they were occurring.  I'm so grateful I still have the cards.  They are precious.  I think about my grandmother, health failing, falling in the house and hurting herself, yet she still took the time to sit down and write to me, her granddaughter.  That's love.

My daughter, Courtney Franklin

This is Coco, my first born.

I found the photo filed away with other documents from my family.  Courtney couldn't remember the circumstances surrounding it either, so I don't feel so badly.  She was at the home of Linda and Tom Holmes, babysitting for their daughter, Amy.  Amy recognized the landscape, and her mom, Binny to me, said that the pups were border collies.

Amy says that Courtney was the best babysitter ever.  I believe that.  She's got a way with kids and with animals.  She's an awesome auntie to her nieces, Lili and Aaliyah.

Grandpa James Curry's family members

Finding these photos was such a gift.  My Aunt Nancy sent them to me many years ago along with a letter.  She was always kind and loving towards me, and I still miss her and think of her.

Grandpa Curry's family was somewhat of a mystery to me.  I don't recall him talking about them with me, and my father never knew that side of the family very well either.  I'll try to put in what bits of information I recall from my conversations over the years.  Still, it would be interesting to know what the big deal was that kept them from speaking to one another.

This photo is my great-grandfather, William Curry.  I never met the man nor did I know anything about him.  He looks quite dapper.  Could he be a mobster?  That's my imagination running amok.  I gave my son, Ryan, his name as a middle name.  All I know is the Curry's are supposedly Irish.  There was some rift alluded to by my grandmother and my father, but it was never spoken of and I never knew enough to ask about it in the time when I could have.

The next three photos are of Clyde Curry.  The middle photos is labeled 1917.  I wonder what he did?  I hope that my research will reveal something because he looks so dressed up nicely.  He looks intelligent to me.  I hope that's true.  He played the trombone, and that tells me that music runs in both sides of my family.  Clyde served in World War I.  The photo is labeled that way, but I don't have the exact year nor do I know the location of where that photo was taken.  It looks like a rural European farmhouse but that really isn't telling me very much.

The next photo is a man and woman.  The photo identifies them as "Aunt Hazel, Dad's sister" so that would be my Grandfather Curry's sister, and the man as Uncle Clarence who I then assume to be her husband.  Again, I hope research will give me more information.  I don't know anything about Hazel. I heard her name occasionally but other than that, nothing that can fill in the blanks.  Again, they look like they are well dressed and they don't look as miserable as many photos from this era I've seen.  I wonder what their story might be?

The last photo from this collection is my grandfather's baby sister, Aunt Helen.  She's my great-Aunt Helen.  I never met her, but she's the one I heard the most about because she lived in California.  In the years I was growing up, California was Hollywood and a magical place, a land of dreams and opportunity.  Whether or not she had any part of that, I don't know.   Look at her cool flapper hat!  This is a photo she sent to my grandparents.

My Grandmother and Grandfather's family members

These photos were provided to me by my Aunt Nancy.  She was my father's sister, and I loved her very much.  She was always kind and loving towards me, and my memories of her are of a kind hearted person who loved her family.

The first photo is my Grandmother Leona Curry's family.  The year is 1910, and from left to right we have Lorna, Fred (great-grandfather), Floyd, Ida (great-grandmother) and my grandmother, Leona.  In the front row we have Kenneth and Genevieve.

The next photo is labeled 1920, and we have from left to right Leona (my grandmother), Floyd, Genevieve, Kenneth, and Lorna.  in the front row are my great-grandparents, Fred and Ida Steffen.
Fred died before I was born.  I remember my great-grandmother somewhat.  She sat in a chair and moved around very slowly.  She had one of those old wood stoves and would always be boiling water in a kettle while adding wood to the stove.  She was also very ill at the end of her life, and I remember seeing her in a nursing home.

The next photo is my grandparents, James and Leona Curry.  The photo is labeled 1920.  They were young and probably very much in love.  Grandma was an amazing person.  She was graceful, beautiful, musically gifted, intelligent and full of life.  She was loving towards us, and we spent considerable time with her as children.  She played the piano at the movie theater in the years when they had silent movies.  She was the organist at her church for decades.  I remember her dressing up with black teeth and peasant clothes, riding a float and blowing a kazoo for some local yokel parade in her small town of Adams-Friendship, Wisconsin.

The last one in this bunch is my grandfather James and my grandmother, Leona, standing in front of a house that is unknown to me.  It's 1953, and they are holding my eldest cousin, Debbie Horkan.  Grandpa was a conductor on the railroad.  He would be gone for days at a time and then back for days at a time.  I never liked it when he came back.  He was strict and I thought quite mean.  He slammed my fingers in the piano because it was disturbing to him.  I probably was banging on it but I mean, come on.  But that's how things were in the 50s.  My Aunt Nancy mentions in her letter to me that she placed Grandpa's conductor uniform with the historical society in Adams and she mentions that they did display it very well.  The next time I get to Wisconsin, I'll have to run up to Adams and see if it's still there.

Grandpa Nelson was a dentist

This is a photo of Perry Haughton Nelson, my mother's father.  The family started out in Adams-Friendship, Wisconsin, and moved to Cocoa, Florida, where my grandfather set up his dentist's office in his home.  My grandmother sold real estate and drove her own car which apparently was scandalous at the time.

Equally scandalous was my grandfather's love of alcohol and gambling.  That's scary when you think about it.  A dentist who is imbibing.  I never knew the man.  He died when my mother was 18 years old.  In fact, that was the catalyst that sent her to the North and her destiny, my father.

I only know about him through my mother's view.  In her mind, he was the best father on the planet.  When her mother and father divorced, my mother wanted to live with him.  It seems like that happened for the most part because my grandmother was eventually locked away in a mental institution.

They had the means to build wealth.  Both were intelligent, well-educated people.  They seemed not to be able to live with each other or without each other.  They were married and divorced to each other twice.  During the first marriage, my uncle, Perry McConnick Nelson, was born and during the second marriage my mother, Gloria Marilyn Nelson.

I don't know about the triggers or other factors that went into the way the family disintegrated.  I only know the after affects and what came after.

My sister took my mother to Cocoa on a visit in the ten years preceding her death.  During one of the visits, they stopped at the home and asked to go in and look around.  My mother recognized her old room but of course much remodeling had taken place and everything had changed.  The current owner of the house told the story of doing a remodel and during they dig they had unearthed multiple empty beer bottles and they always wondered why.

Grandma's little bible

Family lore has it that my grandmother, Irma McConnick Nelson, was a Christian Scientist.  There are no identifying marks on this book, but I assume it was hers.

It's soft cover and came in a little cardboard box wrapped in a tissue paper with a mark that I've been unable to identify the meaning of.

There is gold leaf on the edges which makes it beautiful against the ox blood color of the cover.

Since it may have some limited historic value, I'm sending it to the Wisconsin Historical Society along with some other artifacts that I have no need to retain once I've catalogued them and documented them.

At this stage of my life, I'm about less is more and that includes these pieces of my family history.  Digital images serve us better than the actual piece itself.  The truth is, there's probably no one left in my family who cares about our history outside of myself.  I just think it's important to know where you came from so you can either honor it, change it or fix it.

Three sisters

It was Christmas, sometime in the early 60s.  Sue, Jeanne and I were at my Grandmother's home in Adams-Friendship, Wisconsin.

I don't recall if Santa brought the pajamas or if they were from the parents, but we all matched and of course had to have a photo taken.

I'm the eldest and Jeanne is the baby.

Because of the large age gap of seven years between us, Jeanne was often left out of a lot of the photos that we have because, well, because she wasn't here yet.  When I publish something, I sometimes hear from her 'I'm left out again'.  This photo reminds me of the three of us.  It was an innocent time.

My sisters and I were not always close.  The age gap was one thing and the personalities, well, that was something else.  I don't know exactly when it changed, but it was gradual.  For me, it was growing up and maturing emotionally and realizing that just because I was the eldest didn't mean the world revolved around me.  That was a tough lesson.

As the eldest, one would have thought I would be the most driven, the most successful (depending upon how one measures success), the leader if you will.  Not so.  Over the years, my sisters have done more to help me out than anyone I know.

There was a time when Sue was in college and she gave me her food coupons from the dorm so I could eat.  I was too busy partying and playing.  I've lived with both sisters for periods of time during stormy periods of my life, and again, for that, I am eternally grateful.

I consider them both friends now.  They are strong women who have had successful marriages, vibrant careers and raised their families.  They are now grandmothers.  We are all grandmothers.

The distance has been difficult, but whenever I see or speak with either of them, we pick up right where we left off.  I'm so grateful for both of them.

A real 50s family

This photo was taken on the wrought-iron lined front steps of my grandparent's home in Adams-Friendship, Wisconsin.  It was approximately 1959 judging from the ages of my sister, Susan, and myself.  I'm in my dad's arms, and Sue is with my mother.  I assume it was my grandmother taking the photo on her trusty 'Brownie' camera.

My sister is wearing her saddle shoes, very fifties.  Mom has the fake pearls and cat eye glasses.  She looks very June Cleaver from 'Leave It To Beaver.'  Dad looks like a James Dean wannabe.  I don't recall him ever being concerned about fashion or what he wore other than having to wear a tie to church.

Grandma and Grandpa Curry lived approximately 65 miles from our home in Prairie du Sac, but the trip seemed like a lifetime with two fighting girls in the backseat of the old car.  We spent many weekends at our grandparents home being cared for while our parents attended various parties and social events.  It's something I didn't appreciate at the time, and it's something that I realize I won't have with my granddaughters.

Grandma Curry was a joy and a beloved grandmother.  She was a librarian, and we loved spending time with her at work, going through the stacks, finding the toys and play areas, meeting other children.  She introduced us to table manners.  We were not allowed at the table until our faces were washed, teeth were brushed, and we had to say 'please' and 'thank you'.  Breakfast was usually something simple...a boiled or poached egg, toast with butter and Grandmother's regimen of vitamins.

Her musical skills were amazing.  She played the piano and was the organist at her church for decades.  She even played the piano for the silent movies at the local theater in Adams.  It was fun to stand around after the evening meal, sometimes alone, sometimes with my mom and my sister, sometimes with other cousins, and sing the Broadway show tunes of the day.

While I don't recall the actual taking of this photo, it's interesting to me how just seeing this photo can then make things I hadn't thought about in years come up.  I remember Grandma's house as it was, which is unrecognizable in the present day, the yard with the fire pit in the back, the neighbors surrounding the house, and the various places in town like Grandma's church, the library and the movie theater.

There was promise in this family.  Some of it has been realized, and some of it is yet to be written.  A third daughter is yet to come.

Four generations photo

It was 1980, and it was a pretty rough year.  My daughter, Courtney, was born and within eight months, we had left our home in Washington, D.C., and returned to Wisconsin.  I was raising her as a single mom, and to get by, I was taking care of my dad who had suffered a major stroke.  It worked for a little while, and I was grateful for a place to stay while I tried to pull my life back together.

This generational picture is precious to me.  We have my dad, my grandmother, Leona Curry, (his mother), myself and my daughter, Courtney.

I would love to have a picture of my grand babies in a generational photo but as far as I know, there isn't one.  They are thriving with their foster family in Wisconsin.  I get photos and updates, but it's not the same as seeing them and having a relationship with them.  They are always in my heart.

The antique Egyptian style Masonic fez that belonged to whom?

This fez has been in my possession for years.  I've known of my family's connection to the Masons, but I never cared too much about it until the 'DaVinci Code' and all the resulting publicity came out about this group.

For all the articles I've read about the Masons, to the best of my knowledge, my dad went to secret meetings once in a while and probably never reached beyond a basic level of entry.  I always thought it was just a guys night out, especially when I got older and understood that married people don't always like hanging out with each other.  It was a boys' lodge night and I figured they played cards and drank beer.  My father never told me exactly what they did even when pressed, but again, back in the time I could have asked him more about these things, I didn't really care about them.

My grandfather was a Mason, and my grandmother belonged to something called the 'Eastern Star'.  I wonder what the fixation was with all this middle eastern symbolism?

This fez most likely belonged to the half-brother of my mother's cousin.  In other words, he was no relative of mine.

The C.E. Ware Company of New London, Ohio, seems to have been specifically created to fulfill the orders of the Masons or Odd Fellows or all the numerous names they called themselves.  Below is what I was able to find online about the company that created this fez.  It no longer exists.

Credited to http://thomasstephenneel.com/nl-ward.html

C.E. WARD COMPANY

In 1891 Clyde E. Ward and his brother in law, Ed Stilson, paid four New London gentlemen $138 for their lodge rosette business. Shortly after this they receIved an order from the Odd Fellows Lodge for 600 bullion collars and the Ward-Stilson Company was on it's way!

Mr. Ward had a gentleman from Columbus come up and show the two women on a treadle sewing machine how to do the bullion work since this was all new to them. They later added caps, robes, swords and other lodge paraphernalia.

About 1905 Ed Stilson paid C.E. Ward for his half of the business and set out on his own. He had a large order from the Masonic Lodge that helped his business after splitting from C.E. Ward. About 1913 Ed took his business to Anderson, Indiana, where it prospered for many years afterwards.

By 1910 the Ward Co. Regalia business had expanded so that it included costumes, swords, with inland hilts, bugles, horns, harps, jewels and hand-painted scenery . Later they added lanterns and electric arc lights. Mr. Ward had adapted a yellow envelope with his photo in the left hand corner that was soon known around the country. They made it back to New London even if they were addressed wrong. The company built a new factory building on the corner of James and Williams Streets in 1910. Even with this the business expanded so fast that they rented part of the old St. James Hotel building and used it for sewing and stock rooms. A two story brick addition was added to the Williams Street side in 1911 to relieve the situation. A new wood working plant was opened on North Main Street between the Big Four and Norhern Ohio tracks to build shipping crates and other wooden items needed for the business. They paid a 5% bonus to all employees in 1919. In 1920 they were looking for more help from either new full time or part time employees.

In 1923 the C.E. Ward Co. asked the railroad to move the present stock yards as they wanted to build a new building near there for expanding business and to everyone's surprise the Railroad did move the stock yards to the East end of town near Hiles Tower . A new 42 x 84 foot "Metal Plant" building was added on Railroad Street in the summer of 1924 and a sprinkler system was added to their factory building. They again rented part of the old St. James Hotel for storage space. In 1927 they had an order for new band uniforms for Norwalk High School and soon they were getting band uniform orders from all over the country. In 1936 they bought the former National Bank building on the southwest corner of the square downtown and turned it into their office building. In September 1938 they received an order from the I.O.O.f. Lodge in the Dutch East Indies. In 1939 they made new band uniforms for the Warren, Pennsylvania V.F.W., a national award winning show band.

In 1940 they purchased the old post office building on the corner of East Main and Railroad Avenue and installed new sewing machines and a new sprinkler system for fire protection. A small fire in the main factory building during the night had been extinguished by the system and proved their worth. Clyde E. Ward died in 1943 and his son, Sterling, became president of the Company. Sterling died in 1946 and another son, Rodney, took over the business. Rodney was hit and killed by a train in 1968. Later that year the C.E. Ward Co. was sold to the Crowell Collier Co. of New York and several years later they sold the Company to the Oak Hill Camp and Gown Co. of Salem, Va. Oak Hill moved the operations to Salem and the C.E. Ward Company was then just a part of New London's history!

Ebay had one of these for sale and labeled it an antique fez.  It was selling for $80.00.  I'm going to donate this one to the Wisconsin State Historical Society since it doesn't have any personal meaning to me.

Letters from my father to my mother - January 19, 1952

This letter is dated January 19, 1952, very early in the morning.  My dad was at work, at what was known then as the 'graveyard shift'.

What was happening on that day in the world?  The NFL took control of the NY Yanks.  I guess that didn't last.  The PGA approved allowing black participants.  Amidst the events of the world are the words my father wrote to my mother.  I've left them as he wrote them, punctuation and all.  My father was an educated man.  He had a bachelor's degree, but his writing left something to be desired.  I assume he was in a hurry when he was dashing off these missives to my mom.  Overall, he was generally well-spoken.

The envelope has a rose motif on the inside of it.  Roses were my mother's favorite.  I wonder if my dad already knew this and that's why he chose this particular stationary or if it was just plain dumb luck?

January 19, 1952

Very early in the morning

Dear Gloria,

How do you like my heading, I'll bet you wonder what I doing, well I'm at work just at the beginning of my lunch period, and thought I better drop you a line tonight, instead of waiting until I get home in the morning because, when I get home, I have several thing to do around the house for my mother as she is still down in bed with the flu, so I do what I can to help her out around the house until I get good and tired and then I just fall into bed.  I was thinking of you down here on the job about 3:00 Sunday night, about how you probably hated to get up to catch that early train back, I'm glad you waited until then to go back so we did have out 4 more hours together, Gloria I sure have a wonderful time when your home, I only regret that it can't be more often.

It looked now that my planned trip to Milwaukee on the 30th will reach reality, I think the man I said was gone will be back for sure by then, as I inquired about him last night and they are expecting him back next Monday, but of course I'll say more about this in my next letter.  Or maybe I'll just come anyhow.  But like I say I will write you more definitely.

Not to much exciting since you left, as you know Adams, just go to work and come home.  I did run into a politican I know who is working down here, and I didn't know he was here os now I can fill in my extra work time to do about nothing, especially the graveyard.

I've heard a lot of comment around town in th two days about how woderfuf the day was Sunday over at the church everyone seemed to enjoy it quite well.

Gloria this is an awful short letter to se nd you but there isn't too much to say for your two days absence, I'll promise to write more in the next letter, unless you want to hear me put in some beefs about my job, but I think I'll save those until a future date.  Every one is kidding me about me not going to Washington for the inauguration, I sure wish I was but I'm not.  I'll do my best to be down on the 30th.  I'll see you then.  

Yours Jim.

My dad is referring to the inauguration of Dwight D. Eisenhower.  Dad always wanted to go into politics.  He never had a clear agenda and lack of money would have made mounting a political campaign almost impossible even in those days.  He always wanted to 'be somebody', and I don't think he ever attained his goal.  His claim to fame was saying the prayer at mealtimes for Thanksgiving and Christmas.  I used to get irritated because it would take so long and I was hungry and ready to eat.

Mom's notes on the letter speak to her level of organization.  She writes she received the letter on 1/21/53 and she answered right way on 1/22/1953.  She has written the name 'Helen' on the letter with what appears to be a phone number and the days of the week Tuesdays, Wednesday and Thursday.  I really don't know which Helen she is referring to.  I'm assuming she must have had the letter from my father close at hand and used it to write herself a note.

It's these little things that I would like to ask her now and of course, it's too late for all of that.  It's still delightful and enlightening to read his words to her.  I don't have the letters she wrote back to him.  Maybe I'll find them someday.

Letters from my father to my mother

My mom passed away 13 months ago as of April 2017.  While going through her effects, my sisters and I came upon a series of letters written to her by my dad over a couple of months in 1953.

They are powerful to me on a couple of levels.  The history, what was going on in the world in 1953, touching paper that was touched by their own hands, left me in awe, but most powerful of all is reading their thoughts and feelings toward one another.

Growing up, I experienced the middle of the decline of my father to alcoholism and all that accompanies that disease.  My mother enabled.  Of course, I didn't understand the mechanics or ramifications of this disease until much later in life.  That's why reading these letters was such a healing experience.  I got to read, in his own words and thoughts, how he felt about my mom during this time.  He loved her deeply and it seems that she reciprocated.

The year is 1953.  James Noel Curry and Gloria Marilyn Nelson have a long distance relationship that will end in marriage in 1954 and the birth of three daughters after that.

Adams is the tiny village in north-central Wisconsin where my father was born and raised.  My mother's family were originally from the area as well, but my mother's father had left Adams and moved the family to Cocoa, Florida before the birth of my mother.  Their families were familiar with one another so it was interesting how they even met.

My mom, who had moved to Wisconsin to be with her cousin, was a singer in a church choir.  A teacher of hers, a Mrs. Gladsen, knew my father's mother and apparently had put in a good word about my mother.  My father had some sort of limp and thought of himself as physically 'less than', and somehow these two hurt people found their ways to one another.

The first letter is postmarked January 3, 3:00 p.m., 1953 from Adams, Wisconsin.  It's from Jim to Gloria.  I looked up the date and one of the things that strikes me is how close after the New Year it was written, and how full of hope and excitement these two must have been.  I wonder if they made resolutions about their future together?   All of the letters are typed on my grandmother's trusty old typewriter.  I can still see that device in my mind's eye, sitting on her working table at her house.  She used to type letters and notes to her friends and colleagues.

January 3, 1953 was a Saturday.  From takemeback.to, the US president was Harry S. Truman (Democratic). In the UK Here In My Heart by Al Martino was in the top 5 hits. My Cousin Rachel, directed by Henry Koster, was one of the most viewed movies released in 1953 while East Of Eden by John Steinbeck was one of the best selling books.

The contents of the letter follows.

Dear Gloria,
Just arrived home, and got my supper eaten and packed myself a lunch, read to hit the dear old grave yard shift.  I don't mind working but that shift seems like its going to kill me every time I get on it, and I thought I would send off a couple of lines to you.

How did it go at work for you Friday, I suppose it was rough, we had quite a two day period there but it sure was fun, I really enjoyed myself.  I hope you can say the same, you know I was just thinking we didn't go to a downtown movie although our time was very well taken, that is one thing we will have to do next time.

I called your house Friday from the depot just before I got on the train in hopes that you might be home from work by then, but you weren't, but I was just going to call and say good by.  It sure is a shame when I think about it having to to come home just for one nights work and then get the weekend off, right away.  Oh well I guess that is life.  I should go to the Rapids during the week end, and I think that is what I'll do.  You know I was going up there when you were last here but just never got there.

Well Gloria I just wanted to dash off a couple of lines to night to you, to let you know I'm back home, and that I really had a wonderful time this weekend, and may we have more.  I hope you can come home foer that church celebration, be sure to write me and tell me if you are coming.
(Handwritten:  Yours/Jim)

PS  I hope you don't mind the typewriting of letters.

Mom was living with her cousin, Elna Horan, in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.  My dad would take the train from Adams to Milwaukee to visit and she would do the same in reverse.  Dad mentions the grave yard shift, so I'm not quite sure where he was working in 1953.  I know that by the time they married in 1954, he was working for Badger Army Ammunition Plant where he continued for the next twenty some years in a job he always called a 'timekeeper'.  I always thought of him as an accountant but it seems he really was checking the times that were punched on a manual clock by the workers in the plant who were making the gunpowder.  It must have been a full time job in those days.

The reason my dad types his letters is due to what he always referred to as his 'handicap.'  He had some sort of a shake that was severe enough that he couldn't write very legibly.  It was always interesting to me how his shake would become more severe the more stressed he became.  It was also noticeable that the shake was not evident so much when he was raising a glass or a bottle of beer to his lips.  I don't think I'll ever really know how much of the shake was physical and how much was mental, but it was there so we'll leave it at that.