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Sunday, December 25, 2022

CHRISTMAS MEMORIES: OH APPLE TREE, OH APPLE TREE!

 

(originally published in Dec. 2007)


My family was fortunate in that we never lived in the sort of place
where Christmas outdoor decorations becomes a blood sport.
Yes, people strung lights in their shrubbery or along their house
gutters but there was never anyone determined to turn their
front yard into the North Pole’s Southern Branch Office.

Now for light shows back then you went to someplace religious,
like Our Lady of La Sallette Shrine in North Attleboro or the local
cemetery with it’s entrance lit up, or even just cruised a stretch
of highway to look at the neighborhood lights that might be seen
from a distance as you drove by.


We didn’t really have outside lights ourselves until we left Boston
for Abington. Up until then the only lights other than on our
Christmas tree were the electric candles we put on windowsills.
But at the house Dad did the obligatory shrubbery and gutter
displays as well as one other spot: the apple tree in the front yard.


Dad had experience both with wiring and tree climbing so putting
a string of lights up in a small apple tree was a piece of cake. It
was the taking down part that didn’t seem to work at least for
the tree. One year, long after the other outside lights were down
and packed away, the lights still were hanging in the apple tree.
I’m not sure exactly when he took them down but I do know it
was well after Spring had sprung. I think they were even plugged
in one or two nights. I don’t know the reasons why they were
still there: my Dad’s sense of humor, perhaps? Or maybe an
instance where Dad’s Maine stubbornness and the Irish
stubbornness of my Mom brought about some impasse on the issue?


On my way home the other night from work I noticed at least
three of those large hot air snow globe scenes on front lawns.

Those families must have big electricity bills!



2010 Update: As I discovered in 2008, the apple tree  in
the front yard of the house is long gone. But a news report
the other night made me think of Dad. The holiday
lighting ceremony at Braintree has been postponed a week
because squirrels had eaten through the wires.

The lights had been left up all year since last Christmas!


2011 Update: The big snowstorms last winter had one
interesting effect. Some of the homes with heavily
decorated outside yards remained that way until
the snow melted. One home in particular had an inflatable
Santa and other decorations buried under snow drifts
and you could  just see the tops of them as you drove by
the house. I think they were there until mid-March!


2013 Update: It's a bit early yet apparently for the lights
to go up for Christmas around here. I don't work anymore
and haven't driven around much after dark so I haven't
seen any houses lit up yet. I did, however, spot two of
those big inflatable figures on someone's front lawn yesterday
afternoon.


2014 Update
 I'm not sure there be many houses lit up this year, or that they
will be many elaborate displays. The electric companies in the
New England area have raised their rates over 30% and that
may be too much for many people to afford to put up Christmas
lights.


2015 Update
There's only a few homes along the main streets in the area that have put up
their outside lights so far this year. But there are some in specific neighborhoods
and I've noticed word gets out via Facebook on where the best displays are to take
your kids to see them.


2016 Update:
Since my retirement I don't drive much after dark any more, so I haven't seen
any houses decorated so far. But there's a contest for best decorations going on,
and a Christmas Tree lighting going on at Island Grove as well,



2018 Update: 
There's a really good Christmas display over on Lake Street by Island Grove that gets a lot of  visitors every year. It looks like a lot of work to put together. But unfortunately some unusually high winds knocked over the big Christmas tree at Island Grove after it was lit just the week before.
  

Tuesday, November 22, 2022

DAD

 A lot of times when I think of Dad the mental picture I have of him is of the way he looked nearly everyday, dressed in work clothes, mostly in green but sometimes gray and wearing low cut tan work boots with white sox. A pack of Camels would be in the shirt chest pocket and he’d be sitting at the kitchen table, coffee mug in hand as he looked out the window. That’s how I usually found him when I got up for breakfast in the morning or when I came out to the kitchen just before dinner to help set the table. It’s appropriate that I see him in my minds eye dressed for work because except for the last month of his life Dad was a worker. As I’ve said before, he was born up in Bethel, Oxford County, Maine and grew up in Upton and Wilson’s Mills. He left there to enlist in the Army during World War 2 and ended up living the rest of his life down here in Massachusetts. But I think he was still a Mainer at heart. He listened more than talked in conversations, nodding or smiling at whatever someone said, then would finally make a comment or ask a question before going back into listener mode. A typical taciturn Mainer. Dad worked hard all his life at various jobs: landscaping; a stint in the fledgling electronics industry at Atlas Engineering, and LFE: Railway Express; and the Post Office. But for most part he worked in the glass business installing windshields, mirrors, and windows. He was good with his hands at building and repairing things. When we moved into the house in Abington he extended the concrete front steps of the house, converted the breezeway into another room complete with sliding glass doors, and built a playroom in the cellar that became my new bedroom after my little brother was born and my old bedroom was turned into Phil's nursery. He was not much for a display of emotions but he was there for us kids to put together toys and bikes and as we grew older to help us when our cars broke down. When Phil came along Dad almost acted out the joke about the nervous expectant father. Mom told him it was time and he got the suitcase in the car and was out the driveway before he realized he that had left Mom standing on the breezeway. If Dad had any regrets I think one might have been washing out of the Air Corps back during the war; he couldn’t take high altitude. When we were living in Malden he’d sometimes bring Cheryl and I over to the small Revere Airport to watch the planes land and take off. Maybe he was thinking of what might have been while sitting there in the car? Dad and Mom were quite active in the VFW from the mid 1960’s on and they were fixtures at the Saturday night dances at the Hall. Dad usually wore his blue blazer or tan sport coat for those. I don’t recall him as dancing to many fast dances when I saw him dance but slow songs would find him out there dancing with Mom. Life was never all that particularly easy for my folks financially. Like a lot of folks they had ups and downs and often were working more than one job. But they kept us fed and clothed and healthy. They were just ordinary people raising their family as best they could. One day after Dad died the song “Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head” came on the radio and Mom teared up. That's how I found out it was one of Dad’s favorite songs and that when they played it at the Saturday Dances Dad would actually sing it along with Mom as they danced. Dad? Singing? But I’ve thought about the lyrics to the song a few times since then and the more I thought about it I realized how that song fit my Dad: Raindrops keep fallin' on my head But that doesn't mean my eyes will soon be turnin' red Cryin's not for me' Cause I'm never gonna stop the rain by complainin' Because I'm free Nothin's worryin' me -words by Hal David, music by Burt Bacharach @1969

OUR HOWLAND MAYFLOWER DESCENT

 

About a year ago I discovered my West family may be descended from Mayflower passenger John Howland. But I hadn't had a chance to dig deeper . Looking into Probate files from AmericanAncestors.org. I found Mary West receiving part of the estate of James Bearce Sr. in 1728. 
 
Then I found a James Bearse (Jr?)taking guardianship of three sons of Elisha West's sons in 1738/9 after Elisha's death. 
 
Elisha West was married to Mary Bearce.
 
Mary Bearce was the daughter of James Bearce. and Experience Howland, whose grandfather was John Howland of the Mayflower.
 
That's all I could find so far that isn't behind a paywall.






 

ANOTHER HOPKINS MAYFLOWER CONNECTION

 

 Now that the John Cutter West brickwall has come down, I have new branches of the family to explore. Recently I took advantage of the week of free access to all the databases at the AmericanAncestors.org website to fill in some gaps. Many of my early West ancestors came from Barnstable County, Massachusetts and so far I hadn't found many documents online for them, but there were databases on AmericanAncestors that I was able to see during that free access week.

So I started in on investigating the family of my 5x great grandmother Sarah (Hamilton) West, tracing it back with vital records, probate files and town and family histories. Much to my surprise and delight, I found another connection to Mayflower passenger Stephen Hopkins. I had previously discovered one with his daughter Constance (Hopkins) Snow; this new one was was with his son Gyles/Giles Hopkins. Here's a relationship from Gyles/Giles to my Dad:






As I said, there are vital records and probate files for many of the people in this line, and I'll be discussing them  here as I go along. But I found other family lines that I will list in the next posts.

Sunday, November 20, 2022

MY ALLERTON AND WARREN ANCESTRY

 

  Whenever I am talking or writing about my Mayflower descent, for some
ironic reason I always forget about Remember Allerton. The reason for the
irony is that both my Dad's parents were Allerton descendants: Pop from
Remember Allerton and Grandma Bertha from Mary Allerton.:


Allerton #1 through Ellingwood Line

Isaac Allerton & Mary Norris
Remember Allerton & Moses Maverick
Abigail Maverick & Samuel Ward
Martha Ward & John Tuthill(Tuttle)
Martha Tuthill(Tuttle) & Mark Haskell
Martha Haskell & John Safford
Ruth Safford & Samuel Haskell
Martha Haskell & Moses Houghton
Sally Houghton & James Thomas Dunham
Florilla Dunham & Asa Freeman Ellingwood
Clara Ellingwood & Phillip Jonathan West
Floyd Earl West Sr  & Cora B Barker
Floyd Earl West Jr &  Anne Marie White



Allerton #2 through Barker Line


Isaac Allerton & Mary Norris
Mary Allerton & Thomas Cushman
Sarah Cushman & Adam Hawkes
John Hawkes & Mary(Margery)Whitford
Eva Hawkes & John Bancroft         Eunice Hawkes & Jacob Walton
John Bancroft & Mary Walton
Sally(Sarah)Bancroft & Francis Upton
Hannah Upton & Cyrus Moore
Betsey Jane Moore & Amos Hastings Barker
Charlotte Lovenia Barker & Frank W Barker
Cora B, Barker & Floyd Earl Wesrt Sr
Floyd Earl West Jr and Anne Marie White.

My Warren ancestry comes through my Ames line

Warren #1 Through Ames Line

Richard Warren  &  Elizabeth (?)
Mary Warren & Robert Bartlett
Mary Bartlett & Jonathan Mowrey(Morey)
Hannah Mowrey(Morey) & John Bumpas
Mary Bumpas & Seth Ellis
Mary Ellis & Ephraim Griffith
John Griffith & Mary Boyden
Polly Griffith & Jonathan Phelps Ames
Arvilla S. Ames & John Cutter West
John Cutter West & Louisa Richardson
Phillip Jonathan West & Clara Ellingwood
Floyd Earl West Sr & Cora B Barker
Floyd Earl West Jr and Anne Marie White.



Warren #2 Through Dunham Line:

Richard Warren & Elizabeth (LNU)
Ann Warren & Thomas Little
Hannah Little & Stephen Tilden
Mary Tilden & James Thomas
John Thomas & Abigail Dunham
Mary Thomas & John Dunham
James Dunham  & Cynthia Packard
James Thomas Dunham & Sally Houghton
Florilla Dunham & Asa Ellingwood
Clara Ellingwood & Philip J West
Floyd E West Sr & Cora Bertha Barker

MY ELLINGWOOD MAYFLOWER ANCESTRY

 

 Back when I first started researching the family genealogy online I was
thrilled to discover we were descended from several Mayflower passengers.
At one point I even carried around a small folded up piece of paper
in my wallet with the lines of descent to show when discussing genealogy
with some customer at the bookstore. But I lost that some time ago, so I
thought I'd post them here for other family members.

The first three lines come down through my Ellingwood ancestry from
Stephen Hopkins, Thomas Rogers, and James Chilton.

Hopkins Line
Stephen Hopkins and Mary____
Constance Hopkins & Nicholas Snow
Elizabeth Snow & Thomas Rogers
Eleazer Rogers & Ruhamah Willis
Experience Rogers & Stephen Totman
Deborah Totman & Moses Barrows Jr.
Asa Barrows & Content Benson
Rachel Barrows & John Ellingwood Jr
Asa F. Ellingwood & Florilla Dunham
Clara Ellingwood & Philip West
Floyd West Sr & Clara Barker
Floyd West Jr & Anne M White

Rogers Line
Thomas Rogers & Alice Cosford
Joseph Rogers & Hannah___
Thomas Rogers & Elizabeth Snow
Eleazer Rogers & Ruhamah Willis
Experience Rogers & Stephen Totman
Deborah Totman & Moses Barrows Jr.
Asa Barrows & Content Benson
Rachel Barrows & John Ellingwood Jr
Asa F. Ellingwood & Florilla Dunham
Clara Ellingwood & Philip West
Floyd West Sr & Clara Barker
Floyd West Jr & Anne M White

Chilton Line
James Chilton & ?
Isabella Chilton & Roger Chandler
Sarah Chandler & Moses Simmons
Moses Simmons Jr & Patience Barstow
Patience Simmons & George Barrows
Moses Barrows & Mary Carver
Deborah Totman & Moses Barrows Jr.
Asa Barrows & Content Benson
Rachel Barrows & John Ellingwood Jr
Asa F. Ellingwood & Florilla Dunham
Clara Ellingwood & Philip West
Floyd West Sr & Clara Barker
Floyd West Jr & Anne M White

Monday, October 31, 2022

"LITTLE ORPHANT ANNIE"

 (First posted on October, 2011))



When we were small our Mom occasionally would recite this poem and would tickle us when she reached the "Gobble-uns 'll git you ef you don't watch out!" part. Then when I was in the third grade at the Frank V.Thompson school in Dorchester I read the poem in our English text book. Years later I used to post it every Halloween on an email list for a fantasy role playing group. So it's a sort of Halloween tradition for me.


Anyway, it's the best Halloween poem I know. Enjoy.

And `ware th' Gobble-uns!

Little Orphant Annie

by James Whitcomb Riley.

LITTLE Orphant Annie ’s come to our house to stay,   
An’ wash the cups and saucers up, an’ brush the crumbs away,   
An’ shoo the chickens off the porch, an’ dust the hearth, an’ sweep,   
An’ make the fire, an’ bake the bread, an’ earn her board-an’-keep;   
An’ all us other children, when the supper things is done,         
We set around the kitchen fire an’ has the mostest fun   
A-list’nin’ to the witch-tales ’at Annie tells about,   
An’ the Gobble-uns ’at gits you   
        Ef you   
            Don’t           
              Watch   
                Out!   

Onc’t they was a little boy would n’t say his pray’rs—   
An’ when he went to bed at night, away up stairs,   
His mammy heerd him holler, an’ his daddy heerd him bawl,           
An’ when they turn’t the kivvers down, he was n’t there at all!   
An’ they seeked him in the rafter-room, an’ cubby-hole, an’ press,   
An’ seeked him up the chimbly-flue, an’ ever’wheres, I guess;   
But all they ever found was thist his pants an’ roundabout!   
An’ the Gobble-uns ’ll git you           
        Ef you   
            Don’t   
              Watch   
                Out!   

An’ one time a little girl ’ud allus laugh an’ grin,         
An’ make fun of ever’ one, an’ all her blood-an’-kin;   
An’ onc’t when they was “company,” an’ ole folks was there,   
She mocked ’em an’ shocked ’em, an’ said she did n’t care!   
An’ thist as she kicked her heels, an’ turn’t to run an’ hide,   
They was two great big Black Things a-standin’ by her side,          
An’ they snatched her through the ceilin’ ’fore she knowed what she ’s about!   
An’ the Gobble-uns ’ll git you   
        Ef you   
            Don’t   
                Watch          
                    Out!   

An’ little Orphant Annie says, when the blaze is blue,   
An’ the lampwick sputters, an’ the wind goes woo-oo!   
An’ you hear the crickets quit, an’ the moon is gray,   
An’ the lightnin’-bugs in dew is allsquenched away,—        
You better mind yer parents, and yer teachers fond and dear,   
An’ churish them ’at loves you, an’ dry the orphant’s tear,   
An’ he’p the pore an’ needy ones ’at clusters all about,   
Er the Gobble-uns ’ll git you   
        Ef you           
            Don’t   
              Watch   
                Out!

Monday, October 10, 2022

WHEN THE FROST IS ON THE PUNKIN" BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY

   ((Oddly enough, both my parents occasionally would quote a line or two from Riley's
two most famous poems. This is the one Dad would quote. I first posted this on 13Oct 2012)) 


We had the first frost of the fall season in parts of New England and it put me in mind 
how Dad would  sometimes recite "When the frost is on the pumpkin...". That's the only part of
the poem he'd say. I think he must have had to recite it in school when he was a kid and that's all
he remembered.

Reading it just now I had to grin at the line about the turkey since I've now had experiences with
a loud, "struttin" turkey here in my own backyard!




 "When the Frost is on the Punkin"
                          James Whitcomb Riley

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock,   
And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin' turkey-cock,   
And the clackin' of the guineys, and the cluckin' of the hens,   
And the rooster's hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence;   
O, it's then the time a feller is a-feelin' at his best,         
With the risin' sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest,   
As he leaves the house, bareheaded, and goes out to feed the stock,   
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.   
 
They's something kindo' harty-like about the atmusfere   
When the heat of summer's over and the coolin' fall is here—   
Of course we miss the flowers, and the blossoms on the trees,   
And the mumble of the hummin'-birds and buzzin' of the bees;   
But the air's so appetizin'; and the landscape through the haze   
Of a crisp and sunny morning of the airly autumn days   
Is a pictur' that no painter has the colorin' to mock—   
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.   
 
The husky, rusty russel of the tossels of the corn,   
And the raspin' of the tangled leaves as golden as the morn;   
The stubble in the furries—kindo' lonesome-like, but still   
A-preachin' sermuns to us of the barns they growed to fill;   
The strawstack in the medder, and the reaper in the shed;   
The hosses in theyr stalls below—the clover overhead!—   
O, it sets my hart a-clickin' like the tickin' of a clock,   
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.   
 
Then your apples all is gethered, and the ones a feller keeps   
Is poured around the cellar-floor in red and yaller heaps;   
And your cider-makin's over, and your wimmern-folks is through   
With theyr mince and apple-butter, and theyr souse and sausage too!...   
I don't know how to tell it—but ef such a thing could be   
As the angels wantin' boardin', and they'd call around on me—   
I'd want to 'commodate 'em—all the whole-indurin' flock—   
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.

Tuesday, August 30, 2022

PORTLAND, ME. LIGHTHOUSES 20AUG 2022 PT.1

 My sister Cheryl and I hadn't gone lighthouse hunting for a bit but a few weeks ago we took a roadtrip up to Portland Maine where there are five lighthouses quite close to each other. The ride up took longer than we expected but the trip was well worth it. We found all five and we got some nice photos.
Our first stop was Portland Head Lighthouse which was built when Washington was President and has been photographed many times. It's easy to understand why .





 

Nearby offshore is Ram Island Ledge Light which is visible from Portland Head. It's possible to get both lighthouses in one shot.




To be continued.