Saint Agnes School, Mifflin Township, Allegheny County, Pennsylvania, circa 1910

Saint Agnes School, Mifflin Township, Allegheny County, Pennsylvania, circa 1910, originally uploaded by confections.

One of my Dad's cousins shared this old photo with me from her archives. Three of my great uncles are in this photo taken circa 1910 in Mifflin Township, Allegheny County, Pennsylvania.

[If you click on the photo, it will take you to my flickr website where there are notes indicating which of the boys are my paternal grandmother's little brothers.]

I knew all three of these great uncles, but the one I remember the best was my Great Uncle Dose (for Theodosius). When he would visit us, he would always have a treat for us kids, often Kraft caramels or spearmint leaves.

As I have pieced together my family tree, I have learned more about the trials of Uncle Dose's life. His wife left him early in their marriage and took their young daughter Florie away and he never got to see her grow up. He was asthmatic and died at a relatively young age in a family where longevity is the norm.

I attended this same school (from second through fourth grades), as did my father, his brothers, and both of my Dad's parents. Even in the days when I was in attendance (1957-60), it was the equivalent of the fabled one-room school house, with many grades intermixed.

I remember having the distinct privilege one day in third grade of ringing the handbell out of one of the windows of the second storey classroom, signaling the end of the school day--a very 19th century tradition that lasted well into the 20th at my parochial school.

When I was in fourth grade, a new school was being built across the street. I attended it for half a year. We moved that winter and the next fall I went to public school, leaps and bounds ahead of my new schoolmates academically. I credit the very demanding nuns for my good educational foundation. I especially loved learning to read music and remember the special tool Sister Mary Anselm used to draw the music staff with chalk on the blackboard.

The old school and the 19th century church (where my grandparents were married and celebrated a Mass in honor of their 50th wedding anniversary) burned to the ground in the 1970's--the end of an era.

My Grandfather & My Brother, 1956

My Grandfather & My Brother, 1956, originally uploaded by confections.

My paternal grandfather, age 71, and my little brother, about 8 months old, circa April 1956.

I love this tender study of my grandfather holding my baby brother. I remember this corner of the dining room very well. Usually there was a rocking chair at this spot, where both grandparents would rock the babies of the family.

My grandmother would sing "Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean" or "We are Marching to Pretoria" or "Are you an angel, my glad heart sings, are you an angel, where are your wings? Are you an angel, are you an angel? Tell me, dear."

My grandmother's indoor plants are visible on the little side table. Her glass-front china cabinet was in the opposite corner, and the sideboard that held the cookie jar was just to my grandfather's right.

I loved exploring the contents of that sideboard reverentially. In addition to the cookie jar and lovely embroidered linen scarf beneath it, the drawers and cubbies of the sideboard held many treasures. I recall thumbing through my grandmother's yellowed copy of The White House Cook Book which she kept on an inside shelf.

Above and behind my grandfather was a photographic portrait in an oval frame of my grandmother in high-button shoes at about age six--lost to posterity as far as I know.

My grandfather's preeminent realm, however, was the basement (in my child's mind, at least). He had an old-time crank Victrola and an extensive collection of 78 rpm records. We played a lot of foxtrots, as I recall, and danced around.

Every year he made sauerkraut in huge crocks, following a tradition that I'm sure he learned from his grandfather. I have a vivid memory of going with him and my parents to Trax farmstand in Allegheny County, Pennsylvania, to buy bushels full of cabbage in preparation for this ritual.

He made potent red wine that aged in the cellar where my grandmother kept her canned tomatoes and piccalilli and homemade ketchup. He, alongside my father, built a cabin in the Pennsylvania woods that served as a hunting and fishing camp and family gathering place.

He and my grandmother cultivated flower and vegetable gardens and five strapping boys and lived to celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary, a grand fest which was documented on 8mm film by my uncle.

I'm still trying to solve a family mystery about the identity of my grandfather's father. I have a few clues, but no hard primary data. The genealogical research continues.

I know I have mentioned this just recently, but I reiterate: please conduct oral history interviews with significant people in your life. Future generations will thank you.

My Grandparents' Wedding, 1914

 

My paternal grandfather was born on this day in 1885. As I have been pursuing genealogy earnestly over the last few years, I have filled in many blanks in my Ahnentafel; however, many are still awaiting discovery on my grandfather's father's side. Most of the oldtimers who might have had answers for me are long gone, including my own father.

My grandparents married in January 1914 and saw their 50th wedding anniversary plus two. The witnesses pictured here are my grandfather's sister and my grandmother's brother.

One of my cousins generously shared a copy of their wedding certificate with me. It is in German--the small community where my grandparents were born was settled by German/Alsatian immigrants. I have a prayer book in German that had belonged to my grandfather's maternal aunt, from whom I got my middle name of Ann.

I'm already looking forward to the release of the 1940 census, which will happen in 2012. Many more answers will unfold for the genealogical community when that treasure trove is made public.

My Grandmother with Her Hand-Braided Rugs

My Grandmother with Her Hand-Braided Rugs, originally uploaded by confections.

I just scanned some 1940's vintage photos of my paternal grandparents and their home. This photo shows my grandmother with some freshly laundered braided rag rugs hanging on her clothesline.

This was probably taken during World War II; my grandparents had five children--five sons--and four of them served in and survived that war (my fourth uncle, too young for service World War II, served in the Korean War). I cannot even begin to imagine the fortitude they drew upon to endure that time in their lives. Both of my paternal grandparents lived into their eighties and were active and creative until the very end.

I remember my grandmother (Mollie) teaching me how to embroider on her front porch on lazy summer afternoons like we are having now. She was a quilter and a rag rug maker and baked a mean loaf of bread. I think she would enjoy knowing that I spin quilting fabrics into rag yarn (Ragamuffin) as part of my continuing fascination with the fiber arts.