Saturday, December 11, 2010

Anticipation . . .

I feel like a youngster waiting for the arrival of Santa and his sack filled with goodies. My anticipated goodies are of a different nature – the promised key to unlock several genealogical puzzles.

My quest to discover the parents of my great-great grandfather began many years ago, and like other family history research it was picked up and put aside numerous times up as I went about volunteering in the community, and serving as president of the local historical society and arts commission.

A few years ago I made great progress when I discovered that a sibling of my great grandmother was buried in Green-Wood Cemetery in Brooklyn with others of the same surname. So, I set about researching those buried on the lot. In small forays I made progress learning about each of them and how they fit with the family.

Then, Robert entered my life. Although we have never met face to face, his "random acts of genealogical of kindness" for me, and for other Faron researchers is a debt that can never be repaid.

Out of the goodness of his heart, and I suspect for the thrill of the hunt, he has done hours of research since he first said he'd look up a few things for me. The middle section of this notebook is filled with nearly 200 pages of research notes contained in the copies of our emails sent back and forth over the past fourteen months. My search that began years ago with one man named Faron has now expanded to nearly 500 people – four generations worth of people related in some way to my ancestor Robert Faron.



Nearly a year ago I posted a story titled, Benton to Brooklyn to Wilmington. It starts the story of two Roberts – now an update on the serendipity, and a couple of the weird and amazing unexplainable coincidences and discoveries along the way.

Shortly after Robert and I first met online he said, "I almost feel that our paths were destined to cross. Just a couple of days after my last message to you, I was reviewing my old notes taken in Greenwood Cemetery in anticipation of putting them in order, and there was the name Faron along with many others which I had noted more than 2 decades ago in a particular area of the cemetery." Robert's grandfather was president of the New York City Rotary Club in the 1920s about the same time one of my grandfathers was helping to charter a Rotary Club in North Carolina. Of course, this all began because Robert was searching for information on a family member who had a summer home in our community. How fortunate for me that the email for our local history museum comes to me.

All the things that I have an affinity for are interwoven into this story. All my life I have been fascinated by the Civil War stories of the monitors. Could it be that my fascination comes from the fact that it was my Faron family who designed and built the monitors, or that one member of the "family" lost his life when the Tecumseh went down in Mobile Bay?

For many years I have known that my mother's paternal great-grandfathers came to Illinois before the Chicago Fire. Through research years ago, I learned that her Kirkley great-grandfather came to Chicago as the blacksmith for the Galena and Chicago Union Railroad and that he worked on the Pioneer – the first steam Engine in Chicago. That engine is on display at the Chicago History Museum and I played on it as child never knowing its connection to my family. I also learned that Mom's Faron great-grandfather came to Chicago to work in the new Chicago Water Works. Of course, when I learned all this, my children were nearly grown, my grandfather was long dead, and my mother was not interested in what I considered amazing links to Chicago's beginnings. If you know me, you are beginning to see the connections. steam – water - museums - the stuff of my life!

I have a deep and abiding love for steam engines and am drawn like a magnet to boats and to water. I marvel as I watch steam engines at work. Watching tons of steel propelled by steam always brings me great joy and the blast of that steam whistle reaches down and draws upon my memory bank – real or genetic I'm not sure. Then there is water – from running brooks to vast oceans these bodies of water reach deep into my being as if they, and I, are one at peace with the world. They calm me and replenish me as nothing else does. It is as if they reach my soul.

This past year, on my own, and with enormous help from Robert, I have learned about my Farons and placed people, whose relationship to each other I have not known, into family groups with several connections to my life today. I have learned that my Farons also were drawn to steam and to water. The story goes they came to America with Fulton who designed the first steam vessel and the first two American generations worked designing and building ships. In fact, at one time the name Faron was associated in some way with most every great ship built in America. They were the chief engineers on the ships as they crossed the oceans in war and peace time and later generations worked in the first water plants in Brooklyn and Chicago distributing water to residents. Of course, Mike spent the last ten years of his career at the Winnetka Water Plant and our youngest son works at the Northbrook Water Plant doing what his ancestors did more than 100 years ago.

So now I sit here like a six-year-old child waiting for the gift Robert has promise he will send me. Last week he wrote, "I am on the verge of one and a half important breakthroughs based on recently acquired information which will surprise and please you. I am going to go back to the mun. archives to look for additional evidence, probably Wed. so I can report to you Thurs." When it finally gets here, I wonder where this gift will lead me and the others. I can hardly wait!

Friday, November 19, 2010

Impressions –Our 2,643.9 mile long road trip

A beautiful fall drive through America - Land Between the Lakes, Ft Donelson, Stone's River, Cornith, Shiloh, Natchez Trace, Natchez, Vicksburg, Memphis, The Great River Road, Hannibal and home. The following are things I wrote down as we made this road trip through Midwestern and Southern states.

These random thoughts are in no particular order of travel or importance.

• Most beautiful rest stop on the Interstate beside Rend Lake


• The magnificent fragrance of blooming flowers and bushes in a Tupelo hotel parking lot.

• Never know what intresting sights you'll see at Natchez Trace rest stops. The first of several was near the northern end of the Natchez Trace where emerging from a nature trail through the woods suddenly appeared a gaggle of giggling postulates, dressed all in white.

• Peaceful, quiet woods, streams, hills and dales where once booming cannons caused carnage - Shiloh


• The sound made by raining leaves and pine straw hitting the car windshield

• Old oak trees

• Sleeping dogs

• The amazing beauty of cold steel cannons set among the colors of fall




• Park Rangers going out of their way

• Cloudy day, old barn in field with roof caved in – would be beautiful picture with sun streaming into the interior

• Cornith, Mississippi - not what I expected. It definitely was not the small
rural town of my imagination. I was expecting old Hobgood or Scotland Neck - two of my favorite towns from travels through rural NC on our way to
Morehead City

• Open fields and vistas stretching as far as the eye can see


• Trains across the fields look like model railroads

• A quiet so loud that only the leaves blowing in the wind and the call of birds is heard

• Eagles soaring and cannons standing guard over the Tennessee River at Ft. Donelson


• Politics – clutters our highways and airways

• Hawks soaring overhead

• The nostalgic sound of a train-whistle echoing through the stillness


• The varying colors of the soil

• Where have all the cotton fields gone?

• Serenity and peace abounds among the those laid to rest in hallowed ground


• The changing sounds of a car moving on asphalt and concrete

• Magical shapes of trees

• Travelling on roads that began as wagon traces


• To pedal the Trace - 60 miles a day = 6 ½ days to complete the ride

• Magical rainbows are all over the wall. Sun casting mini rainbows on each tile as the light streamed through a fluted window at a Trace comfort stop atop a hill.

• Families from Quebec dry camping on a secluded hilltop near the grave of Meriwether Lewis


• Gray-haired boys of summer atop their big Harleys

• Picnic areas along the Trace filled with bikes – motorized and pedal

• Split rail fences - Natchez Trace


• Company farms – not family farms

• Miles and miles –still no place like home

• Blue skies, blue water = peace to the soul


• Horses and cows in peaceful, hilly meadows

• Old family cemeteries at the end of gravel roads

• Burls and other natural occurring tree parasites of mistletoe and moss

• Back roads

• Wonder how the entitled North Shore would handle living here

• Not another car in sight


• Cows resting in the shade of a single tree

• Roads dappled in shade from the tree canopy overhead

• Ups and downs and curved ribbons of roads following the contour of the land




• Natchez – a little less than anticipated

• What's up? Oh, yes, it's Sunday and everything is closed

• Wide river vista – a great view out the hotel window – we could/should have stayed here for days




• Limestone quarries

• Tunnels into bluffs

• A few beauties still - Rosalie, Endicott Hill, Stanton Hall, Monmouth and Dunlieft


• Getting old – iron bladder no more - Ahh!! Blessed relief

• Entitled to better

• The antebellum south brings to mind hoopskirts and gracefully gliding down the grand staircase


• Amazed anew at the vast and changing Midwest landscape – dotted with small towns, farms and manufacturing

• Stone houses in river towns

• Swamps and trees draped in moss


• Treeless Mississippi delta

• Desolate

• Cotton fields in all stages of picking - still not the fields I remember

• Desolate and monotone landscape with crops harvested

• Fascinated by water ways


• The family farms of southern Illinois are golden shades of brown - only splashes of color are an occasional tree or barn

• Wrack and ruin

• Abject poverty

• Abandoned churches, schools, village centers


• Houses with too much stuff discarded every which way outside

• Black cows with white stripes like Hampshire pigs

• River traffic at a stand-still in upper Mississippi

• Beautiful, muddy Mississippi flowing south

Monday, September 13, 2010

Yes, I know that a tomato is a fruit – to me it is God’s candy.

Knowledge is knowing that a tomato is a fruit. Wisdom is not putting one in a fruit salad.

Tomatoes, green beans and peppers – picked moments ago give a new meaning to vegetables. Delivered fresh from the garden by a friend who knows how much you love tomatoes gives a new meaning to friendship.

As I opened the bags, the wonderful aromas took me back to my childhood. In my mind I was sitting on a front porch under the shade of a live oak tree snapping beans with baskets of fresh produce beside my feet. Tomato sandwiches here I come.

I’m in heaven.

Monday, August 30, 2010

This one is for you Anne


I have spent thirty or more years searching for this document referenced in family papers – including an unsuccessful trip to the National Archives. Tonight I found it on the Internet. Samuel Meacham Withers is my great-great grandfather. He died in 1864 of a disease he caught while enrolling soldiers to fight in the war we know as the Civil War.

With my cousin Anne, I've stood on his land, sat beside his grave, and held his Bible. Now, I finally found the proof to go along with family stories.

Next year is the 150th anniversary of the "War Between the States" - or as cousin Anne reminded me on an earlier post the war is sometimes called, "The Late Unpleasantness."

Time to go back to some of those battlefields and visit some new ones.

Friday, August 27, 2010

Too Much


It is a busy life - not enought time to do all I want to do. Unfinished research, unfinished book and unfinished doll house.

Life, please slow down so I can catch up.

Let me have time to play with Cassie


Jamie


Finn

and Maude

Sunday, January 17, 2010

The Dollhouse

Many years ago two little girls were thrilled to get a huge dollhouse for Christmas. Made by hand, the structure was already about 20 years old when we got it. With a beautiful wraparound front porch attached to the front facade. Both the front and back facades were removable. The rooms were papered with wallpaper from our house. The bedroom had the same wallpaper we had in our room.

Our kitty loved the dollhouse too. She used to sleep on the staircase.

Then, our daughter Patti played with the dollhouse. We gave it to her for her third birthday after I tracked it down and bought from an antique dealer.

At Christmas I asked Lauren, our three-year-old granddaughter, if she wanted to help me paint the dollhouse. She's been so excited about painting and getting the dollhouse ready to play.

The first time she came we talked about colors and then we went online so she could choose furniture and a family to live in the dollhouse. On a visit to Wal-Mart she insisted that she and her mom go to the tool department to buy paint brushes so she and Mimi could paint.

Finally, last week Lauren came to paint the house. She had so much fun.




Wish there were photos of Susan and me playing with the dollhouse. Have to look through the albums to see if there are pictures of Patti playing with it. As least there is a video showing Lauren painting it.