Is Meets Was

Greek Like Me - a flip book

noreply@blogger.com (Cathy) — Wed, 18 Feb 2026 23:18:00 +0000

Irish Like Me: The Fitzgeralds

noreply@blogger.com (Cathy) — Wed, 27 Nov 2024 22:55:00 +0000

It is the day before Thanksgiving, and I have FINALLY finished another book. The target audience is people like me with ancestors having the surname of Fitzgerald. My dad's mother was a Fitzgerald.

It is available with a hard cover, printed in color. At more than half the price, you can order the paperback version in black & white.

Irish Like Me: The Fitzgeralds paperback, black & white

Irish Like Me: The Fitzgeralds hard cover, in color

I hope you will give it a try.

Grammy Merrill's Album

noreply@blogger.com (Cathy) — Fri, 07 Jul 2023 20:58:00 +0000

Don and Grete (Downing) Goodwin, Cape Neddick, Maine, 24 October 2002.

About twenty years ago, knowing my love of family history, my cousin Grete's husband sent me an album that he found in a box in his garage. I determined that the album had belonged to my great-grandmother Maggie (Carroll) Merrill (1861–1945). Most of the photographs had been taken in the late 1800s in Franklin, New Hampshire.

If you have an ancestor with the surname of Carroll, Cunningham, Cushing, Dwyer, Hanley, Killigrew, Lynch, Meneghin, Merrill, Morrison, Munson, Rand, Roberts, Wall, or Wheeler, you may find a picture of them in Grammy Merrill's Album.

Goodbye Joyce

noreply@blogger.com (Cathy) — Tue, 04 Jul 2023 02:18:00 +0000

I started this post twelve years ago, and unintentionally, I did not click the button to publish it. Never too late?

In 2004, we visited our Canadian cousin, Olive Joyce Hudson, aka Joyce Burnell (1920-2011). Joyce regaled us with family stories, especially with tales of her personal adventures.

Kilquade in County Wicklow c. 1953

Kilquade, Joyce's childhood home in Ireland, came to life as she told us about its history and how her family came to live there.

Joyce Burnell, Nick and Cathy Paris, and Irene and Dave Stradtman

Filled with non-stop energy, Joyce put us to work picking plums and preparing them for canning.

Although she had been to Niagara Falls a gazillion times, Joyce personally guided us throughout the area.

Thank you, Joyce.

Meet Frank C. Bals (1891-1954)

noreply@blogger.com (Cathy) — Thu, 29 Jun 2023 01:00:00 +0000

When I think of Grandpa, I remember Limburger cheese, beer, the Brooklyn Dodgers, playing cards, and fun and laughter—memories of a young child visiting him in Brooklyn and later in Florida.

Also, I remember hushed conversations and the closing of the kitchen door to mask the words being spoken—memories from when Grandpa stayed at our home in Valley Stream, New York, during the Kefauver hearings on organized crime (1950-1951). Grandpa was a key witness.

And I remember Mom and Dad being away soon after Christmas 1953 because Grandpa was sick in Florida. A week or two after they left, Aunt Helen, who was looking after my brother and me while Mom and Dad were gone, climbed the stairs to my bedroom, and then she sat beside me on the edge of the bed. She told me that Grandpa had died. I knew I was supposed to cry, but the tears didn’t come. I was only 8 years old and unable to process the news of Grandpa’s death.

Throughout the rest of my life, I would always wonder about Grandpa. For years, I asked myself: “Is Grandpa truly dead, or is Grandpa just hiding?” My brother and I had been shielded from his funeral and wake, and his death never became a reality for me. Grandpa was quite the tease and a practical jokester, and he had taught me how to mislead my opponents while playing cards. Was he misleading the bad guys by pretending to be dead?

As the years passed, my thirst for knowledge about my grandfather grew. Grandpa was one of the most well-known detectives of his generation. I wanted to know more about who he was, both professionally and as a human being.

His reputation had been besmirched by the accidental death or murder of a prisoner/witness under the protection of Grandpa’s men, and a cloud hung over him and his family forever after.

Irish Like Me: Seasoned in New Hampshire

noreply@blogger.com (Cathy) — Tue, 25 Oct 2022 23:21:00 +0000

In the next few days or weeks, I am hoping to publish my book Irish Like Me: A Brooklyn Tree. Thinking that I should do a blog about this, my latest book, I went to my blog, Is Meets Was, only to discover that I had never published anything about my last book. Irish Like Me: Seasoned in New Hampshire.

I published Irish Like Me: Seasoned in New Hampshire at the end of last year using a self-publishing company, Lulu.com. The hardcover version, which is printed on premium paper, is available on Lulu.com's website. A paper back version is available from Amazon and other distributers of book.

This book tells the stories of Dot, Lib, Gilly, and Freddy’s early years and shines a light on the lives of their grandparents, parents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. Part of the Greatest Generation, Dot, Lib, Gilly, and Freddy were born in New Hampshire. Both of their grandmothers were Irish Catholic immigrants. One grandfather was born in New Hampshire, the son of Irish Catholic immigrants. The other grandfather was born in Maine, and his roots extend to the first wave of European immigrants, primarily English Protestants, who arrived in New England during the 1600s.

This book is non-fiction and filled with colorized images of the way it was. You will get a glimpse into the lives of people who once lived in the counties of Clare, Cork, and Kerry, Ireland. You will travel with them to the New Hampshire towns of Andover, Concord, Franklin, Manchester, Nashua, New Castle, New London, Penacook, Portsmouth, and Wilmot. If you have Irish blood which was seasoned in New Hampshire, this book will provide insight into your family’s history. If you have a Carroll, Cunningham, Cushing, Fitzgerald, Graney, Liddy, Lorden, McCormick, Merrill, or Sullivan on your family tree, you may find his or her story between the covers.

Oh, my gosh! That's Uncle Joe!

noreply@blogger.com (Cathy) — Tue, 27 Oct 2020 01:47:00 +0000

"Oh, my gosh! Is that Uncle Joe?" And yes, it was. There he was, front and center on my television set. I was watching Netflix and in particular, the two-part documentary, Sinatra, All or Nothing at All.

The dialogue of the film indicates that Joe Bals, the cop in the forefront with his hand spread wide, was protecting Frank Sinatra as he exited the Paramount Theater. According to the dialogue in the film, most nights at 8:45 p.m. in early 1943, Frank Sinatra left the Paramount, and he was swarmed by fans as he tried to get into the vehicle that would take him ten blocks away to the site of his nightly radio broadcast.

Great-uncle Joseph Bals (1897-1968) was a New York City policeman. He joined the force in 1923 and retired as a lieutenant in 1960. Most of that time he worked in the heart of Manhattan, giving him a unique opportunity to observe the rich, famous, and powerful people of his era.

Joseph Bals, 1923

Joseph Bals, date unknown

September 23, 1950, Lt. Joseph Bals escorting the Russian Foreign Minister, Andrei Vishinsky, after Vishinsky took insult to the words of the Governor of New York, Mr. Thomas Dewey, and abruptly left a United Nations dinner.

Greaney, Greany, Graney ... from the Dingle Peninsula

noreply@blogger.com (Cathy) — Fri, 16 Oct 2020 19:55:00 +0000

Called Betsy by those who knew her, her formal given name was Elizabeth. She passed into the mysterious beyond one hundred twenty-four years ago on 29 October—my great-great-grandmother Betsy Fitzgerald nee Graney.

No picture of her, tintype or otherwise, has been discovered. Was she an itsy-bitsy Betsy or a strong, big-boned farmer's wife? Was she brusque and self-absorbed or gentle and kind? In their later years, after they sold their farm to their son, why was she living in Concord, New Hampshire when her husband was living in Manchester? Did she leave her husband, or did he leave her? So many unanswered questions...

Betsy's children: Lizzy Spead c. 1870, James E. Fitzgerald c. 1880.

Perhaps her visage is reflected in the faces of her children. She bore ten of them, five in Ireland during the Great Hunger and five in Andover, New Hampshire in the decade before the Civil War. Even though I never met Betsy, and despite the fact that we never co-existed on this planet, Betsy bequeathed to me bits and pieces of herself that can be measured and described in my DNA. How those bits and pieces have shaped me, I shall never know, but their presence is indisputable.

Those centimorgans of DNA from Betsy have disclosed that she and her cousin Michael Graney, who owned a neighboring farm in New Hampshire, were not the only members of the Graney family who left the Dingle Peninsula or thereabouts for refuge in America.

About 1847, when he was a young man in his twenties, cousin Jerry, officially known as Jeremiah Greaney, left Ireland. Jerry settled in Northfield, Vermont, where he and his wife, Margaret Duggan, raised their seven children.

Betsy left Ireland in 1850 or 1851 and joined her husband, James Fitzgerald, in New Hampshire. In the same period, two men by the name of John Graney immigrated to Upstate New York. One was a few years older than Betsy, and the other was a few years younger than Betsy. One was perhaps her older brother or her uncle. His son Martin settled in Geneva, New York. The other was perhaps her younger brother or nephew. He lived in Aurelius, New York, eventually moving to Auburn, New York.

Rather than being a brother, uncle, or nephew, the older John, the younger John, or both Johns could be Betsy's cousins. To date, I have insufficient data on which to make a strong hypothesis. All I know is that I share about 30 cMs of DNA with a great-great-grandchild of the older John and about 27cMs of DNA with each of two great-great-grandchildren of the younger John. Now you know what I know.

Missing Tithe Applotment records for Kilgobban, Kerry, Ireland

noreply@blogger.com (Cathy) — Thu, 15 Oct 2020 23:48:00 +0000

The National Archives of Ireland is a wonderful resource for exploring your Irish family history, and it is an invaluable place to explore the Tithe Applotment Books*. Unfortunately, if your ancestors lived in the civil parish of Kilgobban [sometimes spelled Kilgobbin] in the county of Kerry, Ireland, you will NOT find them in the Tithe Applotment Books at the National Archives of Ireland. Fortunately for me, at least seven years ago, I downloaded a copy of the now-missing pages. Since then, I have been unable to find the website from which I downloaded these pages. Therefore, for the benefit of others seeking to find traces of their ancestors in Kerry, I am writing this post to provide a link to images of the twenty missing pages.

The pages for Kilgobban from the Tithe Applotment Books include the townlands of Killelton, Knockglass Beg, West Knockglass Beg, Knockglass More, Bonnaw, Curraduff, Glandine, Curracullenagh, Beheenagh, Upper Kilteenbane, Lower Kilteenbane, Cool, Camp, Ballinknockane, Ballygarret, Cunnigeroe, Knuckanavacuish, Cappaclogh East, Cappaclogh West, Scrallaghbeg, Foilatrisnig, Doonore North, Doonore South, Glannagalt, Glanmore, West Cappaclough Mountain, East Cappaclough Mountain, and part of Doonore South.

* Tithe Applotment Books. From 1823 until 1828, regardless of your religious beliefs or affiliation, if you owned or leased more than an acre of farmland, you were required by law to pay a tithe to the Church of Ireland, the prevailing Protestant religious organization. The Tithe Applotment Books were compiled during this period to record the head of households who owed monies, describing their land holdings and the payments due.

Who Is That Man With Great-Grandpa?

noreply@blogger.com (Cathy) — Wed, 09 Sep 2020 20:29:00 +0000

My family is very fortunate that we have two tintypes of one of my four great-grandfathers. My guess is that one of the pictures was taken about 1870 and the other about 1875. Although Great-grandpa Gilbert Samuel Merrill lived for about forty years after the tintypes were made, I have yet to find any other pictures of him. This is perplexing, but what is more puzzling is the identity of the man with him in the tintype from about 1870?

If you have any suggestions as to the identity of the man standing next to my great-grandfather, please send me a message at IsMeetsWas@gmail.com.

Gilbert Samuel Merrill was born to an older couple on 24 June 1846 in the town of Cumberland, Maine. His parents, Samuel Merrill and Hannah True Warren, were fifty years and thirty-eight years old when they married in nearby Pownal, Hannah's hometown. Twenty-five months after the wedding, Gilbert was born. Hannah became pregnant again in 1849, and tragically Samuel died of sunstroke before the birth of their daughter, Almyra. A few years later, Hannah remarried, this time to James B. Merrill, a widower and distant cousin of her late husband. James was from the town of Gray, but the couple decided to live in Cumberland. James's only child headed west to the gold fields of California, never returning home. James and Hanna raised Gilbert and Almyra. In childhood, Almyra suffered an injury that left her crippled. Family lore is that Gilbert was sent to North Yarmouth Academy, a private school which is still operational.

Hoping to find a clue to the identity of the man with Great-grandpa, I googled "Cumberland, Maine Black History." I found an article written by Sally A. Merrill, a distant cousin and one of the most memorable woman whom I have met. Her article published in 2017, Cumberland and the Slavery Issue, clearly exposes the conflicting views held by the people surrounding Gilbert when he was a boy. As in our world today, perceived economic self-interest and humanitarian concerns were driving people to vote for diametrically opposite candidates. And then too, some of the people in the pulpit were influenced by power and greed.

Seeing Grandma with New Eyes

noreply@blogger.com (Cathy) — Sun, 09 Aug 2020 22:54:00 +0000

Helen Elizabeth Nimmo, c.1908

I got caught in a time warp when I enhanced and colorized photographs of my grandmother taken when she was a child. Seeing the pain revealed on Grandma's face makes my heart reach for her in a way that it never did when she was alive. We spent a great deal of time together when I was young, mostly playing card games. Despite her physical proximity, there was always an emotional distance. Now I can feel her pain. If I only had understood then...

College graduation, Spring 1967

Above is the last photograph taken of Grandma and me.

The Last Pandemic: Mary Elizabeth Merrill (1886-1918)

noreply@blogger.com (Cathy) — Wed, 08 Apr 2020 02:13:00 +0000

Mary Elizabeth Merrill,

(1886-1918)

Commonly called the Spanish Flu, although it is now widely believed to have originated in the state of Kansas, the last pandemic had an irrevocable impact on our family.

On Thursday, 3 October 1918, our grandmother, Mary Elizabeth Merrill of 413 Lincoln Avenue in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, died from the Spanish Flu. Her death certificate attributes her cause of death to La Grippe. She had been sick for two weeks. During her last four days, she suffered from pneumonia. The family legend is that she was pregnant with her fifth child. Mary was only thirty-two years old.

Dot (Dorothy), Gil (Gilbert), Lib (Elizabeth Mary), and Fred (Frederic) Merrill, c. 1917

The whole family was stricken by the virus, and a nurse was brought to their home to care for the family. Mary’s four children recovered without any lasting physical effects. My dad, Gil, was five years old at the time. Dad told me that his earliest memory was awakening in his bed and being told by Grammie Fitzgerald, Mary’s mom, that his mother had died. Evidently, he coped with his grief by forgetting the years with his mother. His brother, my Uncle Fred, was only three years old, and he told me that he had no recollection of those terrible days.

Frederic Carroll Merrill aka Pup, c. 1917

Pup, the name we called our grandfather, was the Deputy Collector for the Internal Revenue Service’s office in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. Overwhelmed by the death of his wife, Pup sent two of the children to live with relatives. Only three years old, Fred went to live in the nearby town of New Castle with Grammy Merrill [Pup's mother] and Aunt Bud [Pup’s sister. Aunt Lib was sent sixty miles away to live with Pup’s brother and sister-in-law, Harry and Alice, in Nashua, New Hampshire. Uncle Harry and Aunt Alice had four children of their own: Cliff, fifteen; Ruth, thirteen; Florence, twelve; Louise. ten years old. The oldest child, eleven-year-old Dot, remained at home and looked after her brother Gil. My Aunt Lib was seven years old when her mother died and she was sent away. No stories have reached me as to how she coped with her grief. If I had just lost my mother and then had been separated from the rest of my family, I think I would have been traumatized by feelings of loneliness and abandonment. Did Aunt Lib feel that way? I don’t know.

Grammie (Jenny Fitzgerald), Maurice, possibly Uncle Charles Merrill, Francis, Gil, and Pup, c. 1918

Mary was survived by her mother, Jennie (McCormick) Fitzgerald of Andover, New Hampshire, and two brothers, Francis and Maurice Fitzgerald. During normal times, Francis and Maurice lived and worked on the family’s farm in Andover. World War I was raging in Europe. Francis, aged twenty-four, and Maurice, aged nineteen, were contributing to the war effort by working at the Portsmouth Naval Shipyard. Their draft registration cards indicate that they were living in Fred and Mary Merrill’s home at or about the time of Mary’s death.

The Spanish Flu originated in Kansas in March of 1918, and it was spread around the globe by American troops joining the war effort. In the Fall of 1918, the virus came back to this country on board Naval ships returning to places such as the Portsmouth Naval Shipyard where Frances and Maurice worked. Whether one of Mary’s brothers brought the virus into their home on Lincoln Avenue or whether Mary became infected by community spread, we will never know.

Within about a year of the death of Mary, Fred arranged for a live-in housekeeper, and Lib and little Fred returned to the household. Over the ensuing years, the children developed a close bond with one another and with their father. My cousins and I never heard any of them say a harsh word about their father or their siblings. Dot, six years older than the next oldest child, felt a strong sense of responsibility for the well-being of her father and her brothers and sister.

Pup, Dot, Lib, Fred, and Gil, Brooklyn, New York, c. 1927

Pup’s job in Portsmouth was a political appointment, and by 1924 he lost his position in federal service. He moved to Nashua, New Hampshire, and joined his brothers, Harry and Charles, in the ice box business. The job led to his relocation with the family to Brooklyn, New York in 1927. At some point around the time of the Great Depression, Pup was earning less and less money, and the family became dependent on the money which his daughter Dot was earning as a typist for an insurance company. Dot’s fiancé wanted to get married and move away from Brooklyn. Dot felt she needed to stay in Brooklyn to help her father and siblings. Her fiancé left without her.

Wilbur and Lib aka Mary Munson, 1940

Aunt Lib broke the norm for our family by starting her own family when she was just seventeen years old. Her family grew to six children, forty-two grandchildren, and over one hundred great-grandchildren. Aunt Lib always seemed happy. During their thirty-seven years together, Aunt Lib made every effort to spend as much time as possible with her husband, Wilbur Munson.

Charles Hanna (Uncle Chuck) and Dot, 12 October 1940

As my cousin Donna said: “Aunt Dot was really the saving grace. She was saint-like in generosity and patience, and she was so intelligent that she effortlessly encouraged growth.”

Over the decade of the 1930s, Aunt Dot was the principal provider for the family. Fortunately, she met Uncle Chuck. In 1940, at age thirty-two, Dot married Charles Hanna [Uncle Chuck]. Uncle Chuck was a man with a generous spirit and was willing to share in the support of Pup for Pup’s remaining years.

Dorothy and Gil Merrill, 8 November 1942

Betty and Fred Merrill, 7 February 1943

A couple of years later, Gil married Dorothy Bals, and Fred married Betty Gormley.The two brothers had homes just blocks apart in Valley Stream, New York. Their sisters lived in Brooklyn, a short drive from Valley Stream.

Pub with Lib's family, 10 January 1955

Pup with Dot and Gil's families, c. 1955

Pup at a family gathering, c. 1961

The cousins gathered for family celebrations and some made weekly visits–when Pup would give each visiting grandchild a dime, then something of value. Pup lived until he was eighty years old, passing in 1965.

Fred and Mary Merrill founded a rich family–close, thoughtful, creative, and loving. Although our grandmother died over a hundred years ago, and even though we never knew her, she is still missed.

by Cathy H Paris, edited by Donna Feary, 7 April 2020

Pioneers of Vanderveer Park on Kindle

noreply@blogger.com (Cathy) — Fri, 05 Apr 2019 20:25:00 +0000

After months of struggling to publish an eBook version of Pioneers of Vanderveer Park, I am happy to report that you can now download the book to your Kindle or the Kindle app on your iPad or mobile phone.

For those of you who have already acquired the printed book or the PDF version, I have greatly appreciated your personal feedback, and I hope you will translate that into a positive online review.

As most of you may already know, I have written this and my other books as non-profit ventures. The price charged at Kindle is the minimum price which Kindle would allow me to set. My reward is your reading and enjoying the book.

Why did it take months of struggling to turn Pioneers of Vanderveer Park into an eBook? Like many first time efforts, the biggest part of getting it done was learning how to do it. Now when I create books, the process of turning them into eBooks will be relatively easy.

© 2019, Cathy H Paris

Pioneers of Vanderveer Park

noreply@blogger.com (Cathy) — Fri, 23 Nov 2018 17:17:00 +0000

Free download or a printed copy is available now at Lulu.com.

The Epub version is coming soon to Amazon. com—Pioneers of Vanderveer Park.

This is the true story of two people, Conrad and Augusta, who began their lives in Germany when the Civil War was raging in America and Otto von Bismarck was leading Prussia into wars with Denmark, France, and Austria. Conrad and Augusta lived the immigrant's dream of finding opportunity in a foreign land and culture—pioneers.

Conrad and Augusta were among the leaders in the transformation of the farmlands in the middle of Brooklyn, New York into neighborhoods filled with homes. This development, whose name and whereabouts were familiar to all who once lived in Brooklyn, is now all but forgotten—Vanderveer Park.

Vanderveer Park and its sister development, Bay View Heights, included most of the area between Cortelyou Road and Kings Highway and between Flatbush Avenue and Troy Avenue. Conrad was the builder of the Cortelyou Club and many of the homes throughout this area.

I hope you enjoy this epic story (400 pages), filled with old photographs and other illustrations, of a family who happens to belong to the author and may belong to you too.

Pioneers of Vanderveer Park is my fifth book, but only the second shared with the public. My first book, Greek Like Me, was published in 2011. A revision to this book will be published next year. For the past eighteen years, I have been immersed in exploring our family history, and I am now focused on sharing my discoveries with others.

© 2018, Cathy H Paris

A Pea-picking Story and My Ancestor, Aquila Chase (1618-1670)

noreply@blogger.com (Cathy) — Sun, 10 Dec 2017 02:59:00 +0000

When religious and political differences in England tore the country apart with anger and hate, twenty thousand people left England and sailed across the Atlantic Ocean to America. One of the people was my 7th Great Grandfather, Aquila Chase. Aquila was born about 1618 in England. Aquila may have been born about thirty-five miles from London in the town of Chesham. Today you could drive from Chesham to London in about an hour. There were no cars when Aquila was alive. If Aquila went to London, he walked, rode a horse, or maybe took a carriage. The trip took a whole day. I don’t know if Aquila ever went to London, but I do know that Aquila and his brother, Thomas, sailed to America, arriving by 1640.

When Aquila and Thomas arrived, my 10th Great Grandfather, Rev. Stephen Bachiler, was already in America. The Rev. Bachiler was a tall, thin man with white hair, very dark eyes, and a prominent nose. He was obstinate and had firm beliefs. Although he moved and spoke slowly, his voice was strong and clear. In 1638, Rev. Bachiler led a group of people into the wilderness to build a new town which was named Hampton. Early the next year, Mr. Timothy Dalton, a man who later became the reverend's arch enemy, brought a new group of people to Hampton. Aquila and Thomas may have arrived in Hampton along with Mr. Dalton.

In 1640, Aquila was granted six acres of land on which he was to build a log cabin and raise a family. Aquila's six acres were south of Meeting House Green and near the marshes on the road to the Tide Mill. His acreage is part of an area that later became known as the Perkins homestead. In 1640, Aquila was 22 years old and didn’t have a wife or any children. Before too long, Aquila became engaged to Anne Wheeler, the daughter of Ann (Yeoman) and John Wheeler. Soon Aquila and Anne were married, and they had children who had children who had children and so on and so forth until I came along. Aquila Chase and Anne Wheeler are my 7th Great Grandparents.

Aquila was an active member of the community. On March 7, 1643/4, 29 men signed a petition for changing the law about military drills. Thomas didn't sign the petition. Aquila did sign it. A few months later, Aquila was granted six acres of upland meadow and swamp. In 1644, Anne gave birth to Sarah, their first child.

On February 23, 1645/46, Aquila was granted one share of the common lands, and his brother, Thomas, was granted two shares. The common lands were in the center of town and the best place to keep the livestock. By keeping livestock close to the cabins and in a common location, the townspeople could help each other protect the cattle from wild animals and other dangers.

Aquila and the other townsmen had quite a bit of land. They needed to work the land to provide for themselves and their families. There were no grocery stores. To feed themselves, they had to grow their own food, gather nuts and berries, hunt and fish, and raise livestock. People had very few tools to help them with their work and spent most of their time doing work to help put food on the table. In accordance with their interpretation of the Bible, the settlers worked very hard six days a week. On the seventh day, Sunday, they rested. On Sundays, the settlers gathered in the meeting hall to hear the preacher. Being so busy, you wouldn’t think that the people had much time to spy on each other and to quibble or get into big arguments. But history and Aquila’s story tells us otherwise.

In 1640, the Rev. Bachiler was the town's preacher. While the Rev. Bachiler impressed the townspeople with the power and the sanctity of his sermons, he got into a vicious feud with the town's teacher, Timothy Dalton. The feud led to the Rev. Bachiler leaving Hampton. The Rev. Bachiler must have left a strong impression on his grandson, William Sanborn, who happens to be my 8th Great Grandfather. Nonetheless, by 1645, the Rev. Bachiler was gone from Hampton, and William continued to live there.

In 1645, William Sanborn, was 24 years old and soon to be married. Aquila was 28 years old and the head of a family. One Sunday in 1645, Aquila, Anne, and Anne's brother, David, left the cabin and went to the fields to pick peas. They probably brought baby Sarah with them. William Sanborn and his friend, William Fifield saw Aquila in the field with his family picking peas. The Williams told everybody that Aquila, Anne, and David picked peas on the Sabbath.

Four times a year, a court was convened in Ipswich, a town about 20 miles or a day’s journey from Hampton. The court heard and made judgement on matters that were very important to the settlers. Can you believe that Aquila’s picking peas on Sunday was a matter of great importance?

On September 29, 1646, William and William told the Court that Aquila Chase, Anne Chase and David Wheeler picked peas on a Sunday. The court sent Aquila, Anne, & David a summons to come to the court on March 30, 1646/47 for picking peas. The summons was sent to Hampton.

Meanwhile, the leaders of the town of Newbury, a town which was ten miles south of Hampton, made Aquila a very enticing offer. They would give Aquila land in Newbury in exchange for his serving as a mariner for the town of Newbury over the next four years. You can find the written confirmation of their offer in the records of Newbury: "Granted to Aquila Chase, Anno 1646, fower acres of land at the new towne for a house lott and six acres of upland for a planting lott, where it can be had, and six acres of marsh where it can be had, also on condition that he doe goe to sea and do service in the towne with a boate for four years."

Aquila and Anne accepted the offer from the town of Newbury and moved to their new home. I am sure they were glad to say farewell to William Sanborn and William Fifield. By the time the summons from Ipswich arrived in Hampton, Aquila, Anne, and David were in Newbury. The following year, on March 28, 1647/48, the court in Ipswich brought closure to the pea-picking incident. They admonished Aquila and the others and remitted their fines.

Aquila’s pea-picking incident propelled him to great river adventures and a very full life in Newbury.

Aquila was the very first person to pilot a vessel across the bar at the mouth of the Merrimack River. (Joshua Coffin's History of Newbury.) After Sarah, Aquila and Anne had ten more children. Aquila was a free-holder in Newbury and had an interest in all the common lands. On May 4, 1653, Aquila and some of the other men of Newbury petitioned the General Court of Massachusetts Bay to remit a fine that had been imposed on Lt. Robert Pike. [Robert Pike is my 9^th Great Uncle and a man to whom I am especially proud to be related. He was a man of reason and character who was willing to speak against some of the injustices of his time. In 1653, he argued against the persecution of the Quakers and was fined by the court. Throughout his life he crusaded for reasonable justice. He is the man who succeeded in ending the Salem Witch Trials.]

Aquila's land in the town of Newbury was located at the northeast corner of what is today called Federal Street and Walter Street. At some point, Aquila sold his land in town to Robert Rogers who in turn sold it to William Moody on April 4, 1659. Presumably, Aquila moved into a house on the site of the land he had for growing crops. These six acres are located on the north side of what is now called North Atkinson Street, about 500 feet from its intersection with Low Street.

Presumably, Aquila lived on his farm until his death on December 27, 1670. Aquila was about 52 years old. Anne and eleven of the children were living when Aquila died. Sarah was 26 years old, and the youngest child, Moses, was 7 years old. Aquila's oldest son, Aquila, my 6th Great Grandfather, was 18 years old. Aquila probably was buried in the grave yard at Oldtown.

Aquila put his mark on his will on December 10, 1670. The wording of the will demonstrates Aquila's concern for his wife, Anne, and for his children. He provided for Anne as long as she was a widow, and also provided for her in the event she married again. He provided for each of his children too: Ann, Priscilla, Thomas, Aquila, John, Daniel, Moses, Sarah, Mary, Elizabeth, and Ruth.

Eighteen months after Aquila's death, Anne married Daniel Missilloway. Anne lived until April 21, 1687, fifteen years after her marriage to Daniel. She was about 66 years old.

In 1846, a story was circulated and published in at least one newspaper that the descendants of Aquila, Thomas and William Chase, who had immigrated to America around 1629, were heirs to a huge fortune in England. The circulation of this story caused a flurry of genealogical research by some of the descendants of Aquila, Thomas, and William Chase. Unfortunately, the story of a huge inheritance was just a story, and there was no inheritance to be found. After the circulation of the story in the 1840s, some researchers claimed that Aquila, Thomas, and William were the children of Aquila Chaase and Martha Jelliman of Chesham, County Buck, England. This belief was proven to be unfounded by John Carroll Chase and George Walter Chamberlain in their book, Seven Generations of the descendents of Aquila and Thomas Chase, first published in 1928. Aquila and Thomas were brothers, but William appears to be part of a different family. On May 11, 1667, Aquila and Anne signed an acknowledgement that Aquila had sold all of his holdings in Hampton to his brother, Thomas Chase, with the exception of a dwelling and one and a half acres that he had sold about twenty years earlier. This acknowledgement is the record that tells us that Aquila and Thomas were brothers.

Aquila and Martha Jelliman of Chesham, England had many children, but there was no record of their being the parents of our Aquila and Thomas. Because the surname of Chase is not very common in England, and because the name of Aquila is even less common, it seems likely that Aquila and Thomas are related in some way to the Chaase family of Chesham, Buck County England.

Given Aquila's seafaring abilities, are Aquila and his brother Thomas the sons of Francis CHAASE? Francis CHAASE is the son of Mathew, son of John, son of Thomas CHAASE. He was baptized in Chesham, England on September 20, 1601. According to the records of the Merchant Taylor's Company of London, at the age of 16, Francis was apprenticed on December 8, 1617 for nine years to Thomas Brown, a merchant adventurer to Spain and Barbary. Could Francis have left behind a pregnant wife?

Hopefully, during my lifetime I will discover the names of Aquila's parents and learn a little bit about them. Somebody else may already have discovered clues to his parentage, and I need only find a record of their research. But then again, the mystery of his parentage may still remain for somebody else to solve.

Note: This story is based on information in Seven Generations of the Descendants of Aquila and Thomas Chase by John Carroll Chase, published in Derry, New Hampshire, 1928. John Carroll Chase asserts that Aquila Chase and Martha Jelliman are NOT the parents of the Aquila and Thomas Chase who came to America. Many places online still indicate that Aquila Chase and Martha Jelliman are the parents of Aquila and Thomas. What do you think?

© 2002-2017, Cathy H Paris

Who gets married on Halloween? Answer: Fred Merrill and Mary Fitzgerald.

noreply@blogger.com (Cathy) — Tue, 31 Oct 2017 05:31:00 +0000

Amongst my collection of old photographs are pictures of my grandparents when they were in high school in Franklin, New Hampshire.

Fred and Mary played on the basketball teams for Franklin High School
[Fred is the rightmost young man in the middle row, and Mary is the leftmost young woman in the front row.]

Franklin High School, Class of 1902
[Fred is the rightmost person in the middle row.]

Pup, officially known as Frederic Carroll Merrill, was born in Franklin on 10 December 1884, the fourth of eight children born to Gilbert Samuel Merrill, a Yankee who at the time, was a foreman at the Winnipesaukee Paper Mill, and his wife Maggie Carroll. Maggie was only 14 years old when she immigrated to Franklin in 1875. Some of Maggie’s aunts, uncles, and cousins had already arrived in Franklin. This included the Cunningham, Cushing, and Sullivan families of Franklin. Maggie's parents and siblings started arriving in Franklin years later, but not long after Fred's birth. I am sure that they were not too happy about Maggie marrying a non-Catholic.

Franklin High School Class of 1905
[Mary is sitting below the leftmost young man.]

Mary Elizabeth Fitzgerald, my grandmother, was born on 20 September 1886, the second of seven children born to James E. Fitzgerald and Jenny McCormick. Jim and Jenny had a farm in Andover on the shores of Bradley Lake. [Years later, their farm morphed into Camp Marlyn, then into the Owl's Nest, and then into Bluewater Farm.] Mary worked in Franklin for the librarian in exchange for room and board, enabling her to go to high school. And there she met Fred. Fred and Mary became high school sweethearts, marrying on the Fitzgerald's farm on 31 October 1906. It wasn't until I was writing this post that I realized that my grandparents were married on Halloween. Who does that?

Thanks to my cousin, Brian Clogston, I have a transcript of Fred and Mary's wedding announcement which appeared in The Journal Transcript on Friday, November 1, 1906:

"Fred Merrill of this City and Miss Mary Elizabeth Fitzgerald of Andover were united in marriage yesterday forenoon. The ceremony was performed by Reverend Fr. Lennon of Enfield and took place at the home of the bride's parents, Mr. and Mrs. James Fitzgerald. The bride was attended by Miss Mamie Lorden of Andover and the best man was Edward Clark of Franklin. About 40 relatives and friends were present including Harry E. Merrill and Charles Merrill, brothers of the groom, Mrs. Barron Shirley, Mrs. W. F. Howard Newton and Miss Aglea Vallier of this City. Both the bride and groom are graduates of the Franklin High School, Mr. Merrill being a member of the Class of 1902 and his bride a member of 1905. They were both active in basketball during their course, he being manager of the boys' team and Mrs. Merrill manager of the girls' team. Mr. Merrill is employed in the office of Sulloway Mills. After a wedding trip to Boston and vicinity they will reside in Franklin, making their home for the present at Mr. Merrill's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Gilbert Merrill."

Fred and Mary with their children, c. 1918

After their marriage, Mary and Fred lived in Franklin for nine years. They had three children, and Fred worked as a clerk. In 1915, Fred was appointed Deputy Collector for the Internal Revenue Service. The family moved to Portsmouth, New Hampshire where Fred started his new job. Their fourth and last child was born in Portsmouth.

In 1918, Mary became a victim of the Spanish Influenza, whose ferocity was a hideous byproduct of World War I.

Fred relocated his family to Nashua in 1924. In 1927, he moved the family again, this time to Brooklyn, New York. Fred's zest for life died with his wife. He continued to grieve the loss of Mary until his own death in 1965.

James Fitzgerald, the Fortuitous?

noreply@blogger.com (Cathy) — Tue, 10 Nov 2015 21:30:00 +0000

Family Reunion at the old family farm in Andover, NH, July 13, 2013

Who knew we were canoeing on top of our families' great investment of 1866? Not me, at least not until last week. Also last week, my perception of my great-great-grandfather, James Fitzgerald, was radically changed by just a little bit of new information.

In 2002, 2003, and 2007, I visited the offices where the property records for Merrimack County are housed in Concord, New Hampshire. During these visits, I went through all the Grantee Books and Grantor Books, looking for property records pertaining to my great-grandfather, James E. Fitzgerald, and to his father, James Fitzgerald. I had copies made of the forty-three property records which I thought were relevant to their stories. These included mostly deeds and mortgages. As you can imagine, this was a fairly large stack of paper with lots of legalese.

In 2007, I spent painstaking hours extracting pertinent information from all this paperwork. At the time, I discovered that I was missing the image of one of the records. In February 1866, James Fitzgerald, a tailor from Wilmot, bought land in Andover for the first time. This was about 100 acres, more or less, for which James paid $1800. I knew that the missing deed was dated November 20, 1866. I knew that James Fitzgerald was the grantor and that John Proctor was the grantee.

For these past 8 years, I have mistakenly assumed the worst about James. In my mind, James, an Irish immigrant who had been living in America for about 16 years, had finally accumulated enough money to buy his own land. Good for James! But, James was only able to hold onto the land for 9 months. What had happened? Being a pessimist and thinking the worst, I assumed that James, who was a tailor by profession and couldn't read or write, had lost the property for failure to pay a mortgage. In my imagination, James was an Irishman who had gotten over his head, drank too much, and lost it all.

How wrong I was!

Two weeks ago, I decided to make another effort to get a copy of the missing deed. I checked to see if the property records for Merrimack County were now available online. I was delighted to find a website for the Merrimack County Registry of Deeds. Since I knew the date of the missing deed, I was able to easily find and download an image of it. The information in the missing deed led me back to a book, History of the Town of Andover, New Hampshire. Putting together the information from the newly read property record and the information from the history of Andover, this is what I have discovered:

James bought the 100 acres in 1866. This is the same year in which John Proctor bought the land where the water flows out of Bradley Pond and where a mill or mills had been previously built and operated for several years. This same year, John Proctor bought some other land in the area which was adjacent to a waterway and hosted one or more mills. John Proctor bought these properties in 1866, the same year in which James Fitzgerald bought and lost his land.

To increase the power generated at the outflow of Bradley Pond, John Proctor wanted to build a dam, about 12 feet high. Building the dam would increase the potential for powering a mill or mills Unfortunately, it would also flood some of the lower-lying lands at the northern end of the pond, including the homestead which James Fitzgerald had just bought. This meant that John Proctor couldn't build his dam without James' consent. He gained James' consent by buying James' newly bought farm for an undisclosed amount of monies. Why was the amount of money kept secret? I presume that James made a very tidy profit.

Did James buy the property because he knew about John Proctor's plans? Did James anticipate that John Proctor would have to seek his approval to flood the acreage which James bought? Or was James just lucky?

I had imagined that James was a failure because he had owned the land for only 9 months. Instead, this fact actually was an indicator of his success, whether by his acumen or good luck.

A company making harness hames was the most successful business in Andover for many years, powered by the newly harnessed outflow from Bradley Pond. It wasn't until 1874 that my James Fitzgerald again bought land in Merrimack County. For $1400, he bought another farm, not far from his original farm. In 1884, James transferred ownership to his son, James E. Fitzgerald, planning to live on this farm for the remainder of his life. Nonetheless, by 1890, James moved into a tenement in Manchester, New Hampshire.

His son, James E. Fitzgerald, sold the farm, moved to Penacook, and became the manager of a boarding house. A few years later, James E. Fitzgerald exchanged properties with his sister-in-law and again became the owner of a farm in Andover. Two years ago, we had a family reunion on the farm that James E. and Jennie Fitzgerald bought from his sister-in-law in 1893. This is the farm where my grandmother grew up and where my Dad and his brother and sisters visited in their youth. This farm is adjacent to the farm which James E. Fitzgerald's father had given him, lying along the shores of Bradley Lake at a spot overlooking what had been his father’s fortuitous purchase of land now largely covered by water.

The next time I return to New Hampshire to visit my great-grandfather's farm, I will look towards the lake and remember the old farm now covered by its waters, and thank the powers that be for the luck of the Irish.

-----------------

The below map shows the relative locations of farms that my family bought in Andover.

And for those that like a bit more detail, below is a synopsis of the associated real estate transactions.

A James Fitzgerald's Investment Property

In 1866, James Fitzgerald bought about 100 acres for $1800 in February and sold it in November to John Proctor for an undisclosed amount, enabling the pond to be dammed. With the building of the dam, the property was covered by water.

B James and Lizzie Fitzgerald's Farm

In 1874, for $1400, James & Betsy bought a farm and orchard from a widow, Flora G. Sargent.

In 1884, James & Betsy Fitzgerald give their son, James E., the farm and orchard provided that he takes care of them, shares the proceeds, and lets them live there.

In 1887, for $400, James & Betsy sells the farm & orchard to their son, James E.

In 1887, for $425, James E. & Jennie mortgage the farm to Henry Weymouth. The mortgage is paid in full in 1896.

In 1888, for $50, James E. Fitzgerald and Henry A. Weymouth sell the orchard to Ann J. Matthews.

In 1890, for $815, James E. Fitzgerald sells the farm to James Simpson.

C James and Jennie Fitzgerald's First Farm

In October 1885, for $250, Jim Fitzgerald bought about 60 acres on Bradley Pond. He and Jennie sold the land for $405 in 1887 to William A. Simpson. James E. Fitzgerald held a mortgage for the property which was discharged in May 1890.

D James and Jennie Fitzgerald's Second Farm

In 1870, for $1300, Michael Lorden, the father of James E. Fitzgerald's best friend, William, buys about 100 acres in Andover from Nicholas & Catherine Wallace.

In 1873, for $100, Michael Lorden buys about 6 acres from John & Elizabeth Proctor. (Were these 6 acres part of the farm that James & Betsy bought in 1866, a part that remained unflooded after the dam was built?)

In 1889, for $900, Ellen McCormick (Jennie's sister) buys the 100 + 6 acres from Michael Lorden.

In 1889, for $450, Ellen McCormick mortgaged the farm to Michael Lorden.

In 1893, for $1200, James E. Fitzgerald buys the 100 + 6 acres from Ellen. Ellen, for $1200, buys an acre in Concord, NH from James E.

In 1921, for lifetime support, Jennie gives the farm to her son, Maurice. A year later, Maurice returns the farm to Jennie.

In 1925, for lifetime support, Jennie gives the farm to her son, Francis. In 1928, Francis returns the farm to Jennie.

In 1928, for $1 and other valuable considerations, Jennie sells the farm to James Boyd Watson.

E William and Lizzie Lorden's Farm

In November 1883, about 80 acres were quitclaimed to Michael Lorden and James E. Fitzgerald for $250. They sold this land for $150 to William Lorden, Michael's son and Jim's best friend, in March 1887.

Frederic Merrill's Letter to Ma, 1937

noreply@blogger.com (Cathy) — Sat, 25 Apr 2015 00:33:00 +0000

Pup on the steps of 2047 East 54th St., Brooklyn

Have you found any letters written by your parents or grandparents or even by your more distant ancestors? My forebears either were not letter-writers or their letters have been lost or destroyed. Amongst my family artifacts, I have only one letter, a letter written by my grandfather to his mother in 1937.

I forgot that I had this letter. It was sent to me by a cousin several years ago, at a time when I was busy caring for my mother or otherwise focused on enjoying our newly arrived grandchildren. The note from my cousin, with the letter, got put into a stack to deal with later. And later finally came.

Today, I rediscovered the letter For his several hundred descendants, here it is:

Erasmus Hall High School's Class of June 1931

noreply@blogger.com (Cathy) — Sun, 22 Mar 2015 16:41:00 +0000

Erasmus Hall High School's Class of June 1931, Brooklyn, NY

As I approach 70, I feel compelled to accelerate the process of digitizing family photos and home movies. To this end, yesterday, I dropped at Costco several reels of 8mm film, quite a few video cassettes, and almost 200 slides for digitization. This afternoon, I opened a box with rolls of oversized photographs. I checked the pricing online and discovered it would cost me $15-$60 per photograph to have them scanned by a service. Then I remembered my Flip Pal Scanner. Using the Flip Pal, I scanned roughly a dozen 3"x 5" inch overlapping sections of the largest photograph. The original photograph is about 7.5" x 40". I stitched the dozen scans together using the software provided with the scanner. The result is shown above.

I only wish that the Flip Pal scanned at a higher resolution than 600 dpi. However, I decided to proceed with scanning the rest of my photos at 600 dpi. The ease of us and economic advantages of the Flip Pal make it more likely that I will finish my digitization projects than if I use a scanner that produces images of a higher resolution.

The back of the photograph was signed by a number of the graduates. I also created scanned images of the back and stitched them together too. See below. Visit Steve Morse's website for more information about Erasmus Hall's Class of 1931.

Opening Our Grandmother's Trunk by Patricia Jones [Pat Aronica]

noreply@blogger.com (Cathy) — Wed, 24 Sep 2014 20:43:00 +0000

Donna (front, center); Cathy, Leila, Pat Aronica, Mary Heilig,
family friend, Richie (middle row); Gil (back, center). c. 1948
at Uncle Fred and Aunt Betty's place in Bergen Beach, NY.

I can’t remember the year, or exactly how old I was.

Mary (Hanna) Heilig and I had convinced Aunt Dot to let us look inside the trunk which contained our grandmother’s belongings.

Trunk shown in the Spring edition of Sear's 1906 catalog.

[Our grandmother, Mary Elizabeth [Fitzgerald] Merrill died from the Spanish flu when our parents were still young children. Her husband survived another forty-seven years, forty-seven years in which he never ceased to mourn his loss.]

I can tell you that we were sworn to secrecy. We were never ever to tell “Pup” that Aunt Dot let us look inside the trunk. The look of sheer terror on Aunt Dot’s face was enough to let us know not to breathe a word to anyone.

Dorothy aka Aunt Dot (top), Mary
[aka Lib & Pat's mother-to-be],
Gil, and Pup c. 1915 on the stoop
in Portsmouth, NH

[Pup was the name given to our grandfather when he was still a young husband and father. The name "Pup" was bestowed on him by his youngest daughter who had sat on the front porch, day after day, heralding his arrival for dinner. “Pop is home for supper.” Many times later, the call became: “Pop is home for sup…” And then: “Pop … sup.” Finally, my mother’s announcement of her father’s arrival to dinner was shortening to its final form, the name that we all came to call him: “Pup.”]

Actually, there were two trunks, but we were interested in the one that contained Mary Elizabeth’s clothing. There were high-buttoned shoes, one pair obviously newer than the other. They were still buttoned up to about where she could slip in and out easily. A special hook or tool was with the shoes. There were big hats, fans, and gloves. Everything was folded and placed very carefully as if it was just packed.

There was a blouse the color of pale peach. It had pintucks all along the bodice. These were ironed and still in place. The sleeves were long and the neck high. There were tiny buttons down the front. The fabric seemed to be cotton, but almost sheer. I do remember my mother telling us that she made most of her clothes, and she had a very strict schedule for days she did laundry, ironing, and sewing. I can just imagine the time it would take to get those pintucks ironed just so.

I seem to recall a skirt or two, either dark blue or black. There were some underwear, scarves, and hankies … I don’t recall any beads or jewelry.

There were aprons and housedresses. But it was that peach blouse that made the most lasting impression.

The shoes were fun. I tried using the hook to unbutton one of the buttons. My attempt failed.

My mother did say that our grandmother used flat irons that were heated on the stove and rotated as they cooled. It was especially hard in the summer months. My mother also said it was their mother that taught Aunt Dot how to sew.

I asked Mary Heilig to recall her impressions of what we found. Of course, everything we touched had to be placed right back to where it was. There was no time to open the other trunk. I understand it contained books, papers, maybe pictures but my sister Mary said she got to look inside it one day, but doesn’t remember much.

Apparently, after helping Aunt Dot and Uncle Chuck to move, my brother Fred convinced them to get rid of the trunks as they were buggy and falling apart. It’s too bad as they probably held some important papers, pictures, etc.

Why Didn't We Visit?

noreply@blogger.com (Cathy) — Fri, 12 Sep 2014 16:36:00 +0000

When I first became hooked on genealogy, I quickly focused on my mother’s side of the family. Mom's grandparents must have been an integral part of the first couple of years of my life.

My brother and I about 1947 on East 35th St.
near Flatbush Ave.

I remember walking from our apartment on Flatbush Avenue to their home on Albany Avenue in Brooklyn, N.Y. It was a perfect summer day, and I was feeling very happy. I was walking with my mother and brother. I remember I was wearing one of my prettier dresses and my perfect, white, Buster Brown shoes. We were passing a neighborhood park with a wrought iron fence. I forgot to watch my steps, and I smelled my mistake. I had stepped in dog poop, and my little white shoes were no longer perfect. I looked up at Mom, and I could tell she was very annoyed. I began to cry. This was not my first misadventure with dog poop. I had been repeatedly cautioned to watch my steps, but I continued to get lost in the world around me or in my personal imaginings. And so I had erred again.

And whether or not it was this day or another, I can’t quite recollect, we reached a familiar house, climbed a few steps, and Mom knocked on the door. It was opened by a woman who filled the entranceway, and she embraced each of us, smothering us with hugs and kisses. She was my Great Aunt Marie. I remember my brother trying to squeeze between Aunt Marie and the door jam, trying in vain to escape untouched past Aunt Marie’s welcoming and overpowering embraces.

Once inside, all was somber. And it was made clear that we were not to make any noise. I remember being ushered into a room with a huge bed, standing so close to it, and my eyes just reaching the top of the mattress. A very old person was propped up on pillows. It seemed like I stood there for a long time. Eventually, we were ushered from the room, and …

That is all I can remember.

Maria Augusta (Schulze) Bals
(1866-1947)

The very old person must have been my great-grandmother, Auguste (Schulze) Bals, who died not many days after my second birthday.

After that day in 1947, I don’t remember ever entering that house again, although I may have and just don’t remember. My great-grandfather lived six years thereafter, and I don’t remember ever visiting him. I have wondered why I have no more memories of visiting Great-grandfather Conrad Bals after I was two years old. He was alive until I was 7 1/2 years old.

I asked my mother: "Why didn't we visit your grandfather?" She always sidestepped giving an answer. Now, I will never know why.

As the years passed, I heard mentions of Aunt Marie, Uncle George and Aunt Gert, Aunt Lil, Aunt Anna, Aunt Gus and Uncle Charlie, Uncle Joe and Aunt Grace, and Uncle Pete and Aunt May. These were my Mom's aunts and uncles on the Balses' side of the family. But they were just ephemeral names in conversations around me, and never entered my life, that is, until I got the genealogy bug. And then I was driven to learn more about the BALS branch of my family.

More to follow ... in future postings.

© 2014, Cathy H Paris

REMEMBERING CHAUNCEY STREET 15.Babies by Patricia Jones [Pat Aronica]

noreply@blogger.com (Cathy) — Tue, 24 Jun 2014 11:00:00 +0000

Jim and Fran with their first child, Jimmy (1951).
Jimmy was my parents' first grandchild.

My brother, Jim, and his wife, Fran, got married and had their first child, Jimmy, when I was ten or eleven years old. I was delighted to have a child in the family who I could watch. Eighteen months later, Karen was born. Fran had to be hospitalized after only three days. The children were left with my mother until Fran was better and able to care for them. I can remember running home from school so I would get there in time to feed the baby. She was the color of peaches and cream. Just beautiful. Anna and Billy’s daughter was born a few weeks before Karen, but I didn’t get to see her very often. Anna’s mother watched her while Anna was at work. Billy was still in the service and stationed in Germany.

Dotsy and Lou weren’t married for quite a year when they had their first baby, Johnny. On their first anniversary, Dotsy and Lou went away for the weekend. They left Johnny with me (and of course, with Mom too.) I remember taking Johnny to Sunday Mass and holding him in my arms as if he belonged to me.

As time went by, there were many babies. For some reason, I thought that they should all belong to me. Could that be why I had ten of my own?

THE END

REMEMBERING CHAUNCEY STREET 14. School by Patricia Jones [Pat Aronica]

noreply@blogger.com (Cathy) — Tue, 17 Jun 2014 11:00:00 +0000

Me, Mary (my cousin), and Freddy c. 1944.

I guess it is time to mention education. I started elementary school when I was four, and apparently, I was not mature enough to leave my mother. On the second or third day of school, it rained. According to tradition at P.S. 137, the children were to line up in the basement of the school. The basement was more like a cellar, and a very scary place. At least, I thought so. I objected to lining up as I was told. Push came to shove, and I kicked the teacher. My sister, Mary, was summoned to the scene. Very embarrassed, she took me home. Boy, did I get it from my mother for embarrassing Mary.

The following September, I started school again at P.S. 137, and I still didn’t do well. The result was that I was enrolled in St. Benedict’s school located at Fulton St. and Ralph Ave. The good sisters did their best, and I did graduate with a Regents diploma in 1959. Although I went to high school on a scholarship, I told Sr. Thomas Angela, I wanted to become a Nun. I said that I would have to enter the convent as a domestic since I was not smart enough to teach. She agreed with me. I never did become a Nun. I became a wife and mother instead.

© 2013, Patricia Jones

REMEMBERING CHAUNCEY STREET 13.Playing by Patricia Jones [Pat Aronica]

noreply@blogger.com (Cathy) — Tue, 10 Jun 2014 11:00:00 +0000

Freddy on a hot summer's day on Chauncey St. c. 1948

Chauncey St. was designated a PAL street for the summer. The street was closed to traffic. Delivery trucks, fruit men, and junkies were all diverted. The city provided camp organizers, games, craft materials, permission to use the fire hydrants, and mostly anything needed to keep the neighborhood kids busy for the summer. We had use of pick-up-sticks, jacks, art supplies, playing cards, and a shower attached to the fire hydrant. We would be outside from early mornings ‘til the street lights turned on, unless, of course, our mothers called us in for meals. On especially hot nights, we were allowed to stay out ‘til 9:00, as long as we stayed on the stoop.

My sister, Mary, was interested in dress design, and somehow she acquired “modeling dolls.” They were similar to Barbie dolls, which we didn’t have then. When I was sick or alone, I got permission to play with these dolls. Using scraps of fabric, scarves, and ribbons, I could design all sorts of elaborate outfits for these dolls.

Patsy played Potsy

I’m sure everyone interested in games of this era has heard of stickball, boxball, Johnny on the Pony, hopscotch, jump rope, street skating (with metal wheels), roller rink skating (with wooden wheels), handball, and on and on. We did not play hopscotch. Instead, we played a similar game called Potsy. The boxes for Potsy are arranged in a different configuration. To us, it was a very significant difference, like being a Dodger as opposed to being a Yankee fan.

Whenever a mother’s clothesline broke, we would rejoice. The old clothesline became a new jump rope for the kids in the neighborhood. Never mind the poor mother. Her wash lay in the dirty alleyway, and it would have to be washed again, on a wooden scrub board by very chapped hands. Jump rope was a big sport. I can still turn double-dutch, although I don’t think I could jump it anymore.

REMEMBERING CHAUNCEY STREET 12.Swimming and Skating by Patricia Jones [Pat Aronica]

noreply@blogger.com (Cathy) — Tue, 03 Jun 2014 14:40:00 +0000

I remember the blizzard of 1947 when the city was at a standstill. The mountains of snow piled along the sidewalks were this kid’s dream. I had a wooden sled. My brothers convinced me that it was far superior to the flexible flyers that the other kids had. I remember playing for hours on that sled. When our mittens got wet, we placed them on the radiators to dry. Meanwhile, we went outside with socks on our hands. This worked just fine.

Maybe once a year in the summer, we went to Coney Island. I remember my father taking us one time. Mostly my mother took us on those safaris to Coney Island. We were allowed one ride each on the Steeple Chase. Since I was too young or too afraid to go on it, or on the racehorses, the cyclone, or on the slides, I got to go on the merry-go-round.

Dotsy c. 1949.

Mostly, we went to Cypress Hills’ swimming pool. We took the El train from Chauncey St. and Broadway Ave. After a couple of stops, we got off and were right by the pool. Most people didn’t know, or maybe they have forgotten, about the roller skating rink that was in the back of the pool. It was part of the same recreation facility. Once we got to the pool, if the weather looked like rain, we would opt to skate.

Swimming was my preference, but my sister, Dot, loved to skate. She was very good at skating. As time went by, she would take me skating every weekend, sometimes on both Saturday and Sunday.

Dotsy could dance on the skates and was determined to master every glide, turn, and move possible. How she put up with me, I’ll never know. I did learn a dance called the glide waltz. Once, Uncle Chuck was at the rink and was duly impressed with our performance. Of course, Dot just about carried me through the routine, so we would look good.

Lou c. 1954

After a while, Dot learned where other rinks in the area were located. We traveled to Hillside Rink and the Empire Rink. Dotsy acquired a pair of competition skates and continued perfecting routines. In time, she met the floor guard at the Empire Rink. And here, entered her future love and husband, Lou.

One summer late in the day, I got a chance to go to the pool with Billy, Anna, Mary, Joe, and maybe Freddy. I don’t remember who else went. I begged Billy to teach me how to dive. So, after a bit, he told me how to curl my toes around the edge of the pool. While I was concentrating on these instructions, he took hold of my ankles, and dumped me into the pool, head first. Billy said: “Now you can dive.”

© 2013, Patricia Jones