Remembering Past Homes

Have you ever sat down and counted up all of the places you've lived in? As I write this, the list grows and grows! I've called lots of places home in my life even though I'm not really the moving type. Here's a rather long autobiographical post about places I've rested my head at night.

When I was born my parents lived with my mother's mother in the 200-year old Barnes family homestead, a big colonial in Scituate, Massachusetts. The house, at 48 Booth Hill Road, was built by my sea captain ancestor Israel Vinal Sr. and given by his grandson Nathaniel to his daughter Polly Vinal at the time of her wedding to Joseph Barnes of Hingham. This house is the basis of my logo, shown above and on my business cards.

Oldest photo I know of:
48 Booth Hill Road, North Scituate, Massachusetts

Grandma had raised her five children there and when I was born my parents and three siblings were living with her. We moved from Grandma's house when I was a little less than three, but I still have a few hazy memories of being upstairs in a crib watching the shadows playing on the wall while I waited for my mother to retrieve me. The difference in age between my older siblings and me is so great that my eldest brother graduated from high school in Scituate before we moved away, and my sister stayed with Grandma so she could graduate that year. And then they were off to college, and my parents and brother and I moved to Marshfield.

After we moved to Marshfield we visited my grandmother in Scituate on Saturdays until she passed away when I was just seven. I loved my grandmother wildly. She was the only living grandparent I ever knew and she played card games with me every Sunday when she came to have dinner at our house. I thought she was very funny because when I'd need to pause for a potty break, she'd say, "Go for me, too, while you're in there, will ya?" Grandma was intelligent and civic-minded and extremely well-read. I wonder what we talked about? One of my fondest memories was the old stone wall in front of her house. I just loved walking along on top of the stone wall and holding her or my mother's hand. It made me tall, granted me a new perspective on my small world and gave me a sense of power. This is where my love of history began.

48 Booth Hill Road
Stone wall in foreground has been cemented over
Taken sometime in 2009

Our next house is the one I think of as my childhood home, where I "grew up." I played outside in the woods, climbed trees, played house, got my first cat, Pansy, and learned to read, ride a bike, cook, swim, play the flute, hula-hoop, and on and on! It was a small ranch on an unpaved road only a quarter of a mile from the Atlantic Ocean in Marshfield, one town away from Scituate. We lived there for eleven years and I loved it. I knew every nook and cranny of the neighborhood and felt confident there. I had friends a few doors down who treated me like family, and to this day, when I smell certain smells or something triggers a memory, they always come to mind.

Growing up

My parents moved back to Scituate when I was in the middle of 8th grade. Lots of people seemed to know and remember me, but they were all strangers to me since we had moved away when I was so young. We lived just three houses down from 48 Booth Hill Road, at 84 Booth Hill Road. It was an old house, built before the Civil War. The people who had lived there hadn't renovated it ever, except to add a bathroom. My parents had to install a heating system, even! This is the house I lived in from about age 13 until college, with the occasional stays until 1990. If I had to choose one house to call home, this would be it. My parents lived here from 1968 until 1990 or so. My brother inherited the house from my mother and lives there with his family.

84 Booth Hill Road
Painted for our wedding, in 1988

Updated 84 Booth Hill Road in 2008

Once I went to college things started to pick up. I lived in two different college dorms at UMass, Knowlton (all female––synchronized periods!) and Lewis. I worked at the Cape in the summers and lived in a rooming house (!) and a motel. The latter was distressing to my mother because I brought home "water bugs" aka cocroaches!!! in our minifridge at the end of the summer. Nasty.

UMass, Northeast area, circa 1977

As an exchange student in France, I rented a room from a very old woman and her daughter who invited me to dinner every Sunday night. The daughter, Therèse, had quite a beard going, and she would slurp her potage, fall asleep and snore loudly, leaving Madame Habeault and I to chat about World War II and other niceties. Again on exchange, this time for a summer in Quebec, I stayed in a house with several other students. All I remember is sparse. Then after college, I lived briefly in a double decker in Watertown until I moved to Italy.

In Rome I lived in lots of different abodes, including: a couple of different pensiones; a tiny, grubby, garret studio apartment; a nice apartment that I shared with two Iranian cellists (?); my office in Piazza Barberini; a horrible room in a horrible apartment rented to me by a horrible man (beard stubble in soap--shortlived); my temporary fiancé's mother's house, and a few other forgettable places. At that time I was living out of a huge suitcase, so the trauma of moving was minimal, but I hated not being able to put down solid roots. The fiancé thing didn't work out, so I returned home.

Piazza Barberini
Rome

Image via Wikipedia

After staying for a few months with my parents I moved into an apartment in Watertown, sharing a double decker with a different roommate. The place was okay, but the landlord was a creep and wouldn't fix things, so I moved to more cockroaches in Cleveland Circle, Brighton. Of course I didn't know it when I moved in, but a lady down the hall had extreme squalid conditions in her apartment and oh, never mind. Bad memories of wearing a hoodie to bed at night tightly ensconced under the bedclothes. As soon as I could I moved to a fine studio apartment in Central Square in Cambridge, walking distance from work. I loved that little place. So easy to clean, as opposed to the 10-room monster I now live in. No roaches, but you could hear the people in the next apartment via the oven vents and they sounded as though they were in the same room. Final working girl apartment was again in Watertown. Nice place, clean, one-bedroom, easy commute to work, easy parking. Loved it but finally moved when we married.

Me, my niece Aimee and my mother, Priscilla FitzGerald
Moving me from Watertown to Cambridge
1984

For someone who liked to feel settled, things weren't going well. Myles and I packed up our respective apartments and put it all in storage because we moved to England for a year so that he could get his Master's (Mahstah's) degree in electronic chip design at the University of Southampton. We lived in international student housing in a dear dwelling I referred to as the "Hell-Hole." Talk of sparse! There was a coin-operated machine in a closet via which we purchased electricity, and it took us three months just to get a telephone. The walls were moldy, despite the under-floor heating which just served to bring all of the hidden bacteria from countless past students to the optimal temperature to spread disease. Eww.

I made a scrapbook of our time there. Forgot all about this!

Back to live with my mother at 84 Booth Hill while we shopped around carefully for our first home. I was psyched! We ended up in Shrewsbury, just past Boston's Metrowest, because the cost of living was great, schools had a fine reputation and it was good commuting for Myles. We bought a little brown cape we nicknamed "The Snuggy Brown House." This is the house where I finally got to unpack my wedding presents two years after we married! Its where we brought all three newborn sons home, where they puked and pooped and drooled and ripped and scribbled their way through their early years.

Snuggy Brown House ca 1995

When we reached the point of having three kids share one bedroom, we decided to move, and finally came to our present home, still in Shrewsbury. It's big and comfortable and was brand new when we bought it. It doesn't have the character of an antique home, but new construction is so much easier to maintain. This is where my babies have grown up, gone off to college and where I've honed my genealogical skills. After this I don't think we'll live in more than one more place. Or I would have said that before writing this post, but seeing how easy it seems to have been for me to move, maybe I'll be proved wrong.

Current Dwelling Place

It's funny how quickly someplace can feel comfortable, become the spot where you unwind, the spot you crave when you are tired. Big or small, new or old, I remember that about all of my homes.

I'm Ancestor Approved!

A pleasant way to finish up the year 2010 was being notified that I've received the “Ancestor Approved" award from Kelly (Coghan) Holderbaum, author of Sunny Ancestry (http://sunnyancestry.blogspot.com/). Thank you, Kelly! I hadn't read Kelly's blog before, and am glad to have discovered it, it's really good!

The “Ancestor Approved Award” was created by Leslie Ann of "Ancestors Live Here" in March 2010, and has been passed along to many genealogical bloggers. Recipients are asked to make a list of ten things they have learned about their ancestors that have humbled, surprised, or enlightened them. Then they are to pass on the award to ten other bloggers who are doing their ancestors proud. 

Being a professional genie and all, I'd like to extend the criteria for the "Things I've Learned" list to include clients' ancestors as well!

1. I had a hard time letting go of Cotton Kimball as the father of Elizabeth Kimball wife of Nicholas Colby of Haverhill. Cotton has some great people in his line, especially fearless Hannah Duston, of scalping fame. But this year I replaced him with John and Mary (Kimball) Kimball, so now I have twice as many Kimballs as I thought.

2. I've learned how to say no when asked to help with volunteer activities. I already do too much and though I want to help all of the societies to which I belong, there just ain't enough of me to go around! To remedy this dilemma I just switch around from society to society. This is good for networking, also.

3. When working as a consulting genealogist at Ancestors Roadshows, etc., I've learned that most people don't have questions they want to ask me. Almost everyone simply wants to tell me what they've done and who their ancestors were. A little validation of their research techniques goes a long way! 

4. Tom Jones (Thomas W. Jones, Ph.D., CG, CGL) taught me that just because you write as you go along doesn't mean you're not going to have to write the whole danged thing over again because of something you discover towards the end of your journey. One little piece of evidence can make you have to reorganize the presentation of your data, and if you don't do it, you're not able to prove your point effectively. Thank you, Tom! 

5. I keep thinking of a trip we took to England when I was 6 months pregnant and my eldest child was 18 months old. The flight was delayed, he got completely hyped from being overtired and cried (screamed) his way across the Atlantic Ocean. We were mortified at the horrible experience we were providing for our dagger-eyed fellow passengers. We were seated in the middle of the 5-seat row and the hostesses totally ignored us, even when he threw up while we were landing. This took all of 18 hours from start to finish, I had my husband and good friend to help, and still I think of the trauma! Recently, I was researching a lady from the Azores who came over with her 2-year old and a 9-month old in 1907 by ship. Who knows if she may have been pregnant? I keep thinking of her now and being awfully glad we were able to fly to England rather than take a ship! What a whiner I am!

6. I've learned that it is much better to just hand over a not-quite ready gedcom file to a friend than to make her wait another ten years because I've almost discovered something else. This is humbling.

7. It makes me feel centered and calm to study the past. Researching ancestors and reading about the history of countless localities has an effect on you after a while. You see patterns in behavior, in the ways that people react to certain situations and it makes you feel like the past is not so distant. You feel like you can predict the outcome of so many events based on whether or not people are paying attention to the past.

8. Plenty of people know very, very little about their ancestors, even as close as their own grandparents. Most people cannot name their eight great-grandparents. While not beneficial to those people, it is good for the professional genealogist because it brings more clients our way, but more important, gives us the gift of telling people about their own families and seeing their happiness as a result. I love this!

9. Having a family reunion is a great way to get the entire extended family interested in genealogy. It brings out photos (Essie, I haven't forgotten your album!), introduces people with different political beliefs, or from different parts of the country to the concept that they have much in common with each other, starting with 99 percent of their ancestors, and makes for great deviled egg consumption!

My nephew John Kemmett, cousin, Esther (page) Klaiber
and brother Tim FitzGerald
Barnes Family Reunion 2010

10. Twentieth century research is tough! The completely new dimension of dealing with live people is introduced and suddenly we have to be conscious of people's feelings and sensitivities! This is scary, but worthwhile in that we get to bring families together!

Blogger awards are a great way to get to know my fellow bloggers because they usually have a requirement that you pass along the admiration, so below you will find my top ten favorite blogs. The challenge lies in winnowing down my list to just ten. I just can't believe how many great writers there are out there! And how fascinating the variation in people's approaches to genealogy. Some of them encourage me by their own dogged research, others keep me up to date on technological issues,  a few make me want to call them and enjoy a loooooong cup of coffee together discussing life and ancestors, and the rest are just plain entertaining! I hope you enjoy them all as much as I do!  I hereby pass the "Ancestors Approved" award to the following geneabloggers (in no particular order)!

1. Heather Rojo's Nutfield Genealogy

2. Bill West's West in New England

3. Marian Pierre-Louis's Marian's Root & Rambles

4. Anne Morddel's The French Genealogy Blog

5. Paula Stuart-Warren's Paula's Genealogical Eclectica

6. Mel Wolfgang's Mnemosyne's Magic

7. Stefania [unknown]'s L'origine della famiglia Basaba

8. Miriam Robbins' AnceStories: The Stories of My Ancestors

9. Susan Petersen's Long Lost Relatives

10. Caitlin GD Hopkins' Vast Public Indifference

Lost Souls of Children

Yesterday my historian pal, Harry, called to tell me his cousin had discovered a previously unknown baby buried in their family plot. Little Betty Richardson apparently lived about three years (1931-1934), had no gravestone and was not known to the family. She was born, died and disappeared. Harry and I discussed how this makes us want to visit her little grave and acknowledge her existence. Somehow we want to mark the fact that she ever walked the earth. It makes death seem a little less harsh if we imagine our memory outliving us, but how long can the memory of a three-year old live on? Once her parents are gone, who is there to perpetuate her memory? So today I await the outcome of a search for her parents in the Worcester City Clerk's office. But I don't even really need to know who her parents were. I just want to lay a Christmas rose upon her grave and mark the fact that she spent time on this earth, poor little soul.

My own family has a similar lost soul. My grandmother and mother, both genealogists, passed down to me that Israel Merritt Barnes (Senior) and his wife Olive Litchfield suffered a wait of 16 years after their daughters’ deaths before they welcomed another child –– Israel Jr. This was the reason that Israel Jr. was grew up to be so spoiled and squandered any money the family had managed to accumulate––he was just overly loved.

Israel and Olive had married in 1840. They first had Hannah E. Barnes on 7 June 1841. Then on on 18 October 1843 they welcomed another girl, Mandana Clapp Barnes. Both little girls died within eight days of one another in July of 1844, when they were 3 (of dysentery) and less than 1 (of bowel complaint). No further known children were born to this couple until 1861, when my great grandfather, Israel Merritt Barnes II (Junior), was born. This was twenty years after the birth of his parents' first child, and seventeen since they had lost their only children. They must have been elated at his birth! Israel Junior grew up in privilege, went on to speculate with the family fortune, and earned the moniker of "spoiled." At least there was a reason for his being pampered. One can understand his parents' grief and longing for more children, and commiserate a bit with their propensity to spoil a long-awaited child.

Israel Merritt Barnes II (Junior), only surviving child of
Israel Merrit Barnes I (Senior) and Olive (Litchfield) Barnes

Israel Junior, the spoiled one, was the father-in-law of our first known family genealogist––my grandmother, Vernetta. She passed her hobby and passion down to my mother, who, in turn passed it down to me. Many years passed and it came time for me to write a kinship determination project for my certification portfolio. I re-examined every family unit, in fact, every individual in my family tree, and while doing so, came across something I used to routinely ignore.

Online family trees, which rarely cite sources, can contain many errors. They should be used, if at all, only as a springboard for potential research. But occasionally they can open up a new avenue and provide insight into an undiscovered gem. Because of an online family tree I discovered another child of Israel and Olive. Ancestry World Tree (AWT) shows the birth of Webster, son of Israel M. and Olive (Litchfield) Barnes in Scituate on 12 January 1855, and a death in January 1855.

What????? They had another child? What made her say that? How many years after the deaths of the girls was this? Eleven. How old was Olive? Thirty-five. Why had we not heard of this???? Unknown. And this is six years before Israel Junior was born!

I was quite sure it was some strange kind of error. However, I checked the source, and it was from the daughter of a woman who had grown up on the same street as my mother, the street I lived on until I was two. How on earth did she know this when my mother and grandmother hadn't? So I contacted her. She told me she had found the information in her mother's notes and that her mother was now suffering from senility. [Robin Hayes, redwhittrobin@aol.com, family tree submission, Ancestry World Tree (http://www.ancestry.com : August 12 2007), citing GEDCOM file : 2800260.ged, 10 May 2004; gives a birthdate of 12 January 1855 in Scituate, and death there January 1855. When contacted, the submitter, revealed that the information was from notes written by her mother, Polly (Sylvester) Whittaker, a Scituate genealogist suffering now from senility. She was a friend of the Barnes family, though born much later than the birth of Webster, probably about 1920 or so. There could be reasons for a friend of the family to note the birth, as valid as any reasons for the Barnes family not to note it.]

I needed corroboration, so off to genealogybank.com I went. A newspaper announcement indirectly confirmed Webster's birth through a death notice. Sadly, he too, like his sisters before him, had died young and left his parents to grieve once more.

“Deaths,” Boston Press and Post, 4 June 1855, online subscription database linked to original images; GenealogyBank.com (http://www.GenealogyBank.com : accessed 1 March 2008).

There is no trace of either the birth or death of this baby in Boston City, Town of Scituate or Massachusetts state vital records. I searched for all Barnes babies born in 1855 across the state; all unnamed Barnes boys in 1855, all children named Webster. He has never been mentioned in the family genealogies. There is no gravestone for him at Mt. Hope Cemetery where his parents are buried. However, at the time of his death there was a Barnes/Vinal family tomb in which he could have been interred. To date, no records have been discovered for that tomb which is located directly across the street from the homestead. The Scituate Town Archives has a recent survey of cemeteries that mentions this tomb, but does not list who is buried there. When my 62-year old brother played there as a child the bodies had already been carried off, whether by animals or grave-robbers, we'll never know.

The newspaper announcement led in turn to a search of the records of the Unitarian Church in Scituate, which say: “June 1st, Infant child of Israel M. Barnes, 8 days.” [“Records of the First Church of Christ in Scituate, Mass.,” p. 97, Deaths, 1855; Scituate Town Archives.]

So now we have a conflict in dates. Two June 1855 sources, and a much later source. I go with the contemporaneous source (almost) every time, so I'm placing my money on little Webster dying on 1 June at eight days, and thus having a birth date of 24 May 1855. It is easy enough to mis-copy Jan. for Jun. The only place where he is named is in the newspaper article and the Ancestry World Tree entry, not in the family or church records.

These sources cannot be refuted, even though the birth and death never appear in official town or state records. There was no other couple named Israel M. and Olive L. Barnes in Massachusetts, especially in Scituate, at that time. There would be no other reason for this notice to be printed, no incentive to lie about such a sad event. Yet there are a multitude of reasons not to have the birth and death registered. If the child had been frail, they may have waited to report his birth. Since he passed away at only eight days, then the birth and death could in a way negate each other and the grief-stricken family may not have had the energy or inclination to bother with a simultaneous registration of birth and death. On the other hand, justification can be made for the minister and neighbors taking note of the events, as they were more subjective.

Scituate was a small town, a tight community where everyone knew everyone else's business. Thankfully, one of those neighbors took note of the birth of little Webster. If I could only locate his grave, I'd visit him with a Christmas rose, but in the meantime, I'll focus my energies on Betty Richardson.

Woman's Missionary Society, First Congregational Church, Shrewsbury, Massachusetts

Here's a little excerpt from a register of the minutes of the Women's Missionary Society of the Shrewsbury Congregational Church. It's quite interesting in how it reveals the women of 1915 dealing with women's issues. Just a few of the things they discussed were childrearing, immigration, education of women, missionary work overseas, and of course, religion. They sang, discussed issues of the day, held fundraisers, did crafts together, prayed and did all they could to learn about the world outside of Shrewsbury.

The very neatly written register. A joy to transcribe!

March 18, 1915

On Thursday afternoon, March 18th, the
regular meeting of the Woman’s Missionary Society
was held in the Vestry. The meeting was opened
by the president, Mrs. Cook, who read the account
of Christ’s being found in the Temple in serious
conversation with the learned doctors of the Law.
Prayer was offered and the secretary’s report
was read and approved. The usual offering
was taken. 

Miss Grace Marion Holland, one of the many young ladies who went abroad to serve as a missionary, in India. Her sister, Ruth, died of typhoid fever in Ceylon after she had served there for a little over a year, on 11 January 1921.

Letters from our missionary, Miss Abbie G.
Chapin, of Tungchou, North China, and her
friend, Miss Phelps, were read. They wrote
of their Christmas celebrations and told what
was done with the bags and handkerchiefs
we sent them (about 100 of each).

Mrs Willis Knowlton then took charge
of the meeting. A Gospel hymn was sung
and the last chapter of the study book was
considered––The child at work for Christ.
One or two selections were read from
the book, following which Mrs. Shepard
expressed her feeling as to what the children
of Shrewsbury need to have done for them,
and the importance of having a parish
house.

Miss Marble, our kindergarten teacher, spoke
of ways in which we may be of service to the
French and Italian children and mothers
at the Lake. Miss Marble has made a
thorough canvas of that district and has
found there one hundred children of
kindergarten age. The mothers are eager
to learn how to do things in the American
way; and Miss Marble thinks that after
the kindergarten at the Lake is started
and the teacher has won the confidence
of these mothers, there will be an op-
portunity for us to teach them cooking,
sewing, care of children, and care of their
homes.

The music consisted of singing by the
Sunshine Club, accompanied by Miss Doris
Donaldson.

The attendance was eleven members,
four adults visitors, and eight children––
total 23. 

Postcard found in the Shrewsbury Congregational Church Archives.
Float created by members of St. Mary's and St. Anne's parishes,
also in Shrewsbury.

Decorations of flags were furnished by
the flower committee, and a begonia in
full bloom.

Since our last meeting, one of our
members, Miss Mary L. Norcross, has been
taken from us by death, after a long and
painful illness. Her name first appears
in our records in October, 1901, when she
was chosen secretary of the society.
From that time until her last illness,
so far as her health permitted, Mrs. Norcross
was always ready to do her part in the work
of the society.

Ida L. Bement Sec’y.

An early view of the First Congregational Church of Shrewsbury, Massachusetts

Diary of a Medium, Georgianne (Hagerman) Jones, 1928

Georgianna Hagerman, 1888,  Fredericton, New Brunswick.
My mother's mother's mother, before life got to her, but already looking a bit glum.
She was variously called Georgia, Georgia Ann, Georgie, Georgianne, Georgie Ann, and Georgianna 

My first genealogical education was the National Genealogical Society’s Basic American Genealogy home study course. An early assignment was to interview a relative we had never met in order to practice interviewing and learn more about that branch. So my sister Ann and I went to visit my mother’s maternal first cousin, Jackie (Jones) Towler in July of 1998. My mother had passed away two years earlier, and since Jackie was in the older generation and from a side of the family I knew little about she fit nicely. Though there was a 17 year age gap between Jackie and my mother, they had always been very fond of each other.

Jackie had genealogical experience and understood my interest in family history. She had successfully researched my great-uncles’ births in Lawrence for my mother, but the birth of my grandmother, Vernetta Gertrude Jones was nowhere to be found––by Jackie, my mother, my Aunt Abbie, or even Vernetta herself, who was an ardent genealogist! 

Ann and I went to the home of Jackie and her husband, Herbert ("Red") in Lawrence armed with a video camera. Jackie had also invited her sister, Barbara, and they had gathered some old photos and assorted memorabilia. One item in particular just blew me away –– a typescript of the diary of Vernetta's mother, Georgianna (Hagerman) Jones. (See the variety of ways her name appears in records in the caption under her photo, above.) Jackie had given the original diary to her son Jared, and he transcribed and typed it. It looks like he transcribed it verbatim, but sometimes I can’t tell if he has made typos or if Georgianna did! So in my transcription of the transcription, I fixed the obvious ones (i.e. uncerstand, mornign, etc.). I surely would love to see the original, though! Apart from the obvious need to get down to the original for accuracy purposes, the diary is in Georgie's handwriting, which add would add so much depth to something as poignant as this.

Georgianna was a Spiritualist, and communicated regularly with the Great Beyond. She held dinner séances where guests paid a fee to dine and then chat with their dearly departed over coffee. My mother Priscilla (Barnes) FitzGerald was her granddaughter, and I can still see the childlike excitement on her face as she recounted visiting her grandmother and being allowed to collect money at these dinners, starting at the impressionable age of six.

Georgianna’s son, Frank Dewey Jones, died at the age of 29 on 4 December 1927. [1] His death certificate gives lobar pneumonia as the cause of death, but Jackie thought it might have been from tainted alcohol he obtained (Prohibition). The diary mentions his legs giving him trouble, but I do not know what that refers to. Georgie was obviously heartbroken, and used her diary as a way to comfort herself and make sense out of her painful world by channelling her son and documenting her own feelings. 

Jones/Barnes Gathering circa 1925, location unknown,
perhaps the Barnes summer cottage at Rivermoor, Scituate, Mass.
Back Row, L-R: Cecil Jones, Bill Barnes, Ernest Jones, Georgianne (Hagerman) Jones, Priscilla Barnes
Front Row: Louise Barnes, Frank Jones holding twin Anne Barnes,
Billy Barnes turned away, Jared Smith Jones holding twin Abbie Barnes.
Missing is Vernetta (Jones) Barnes, probably the one taking the photo, which has her parents, siblings, husband and children.

Georgianne's diary mentions other family members:

• Her husband, Jared Smith Jones, “Pa”;

• Sons Ernest Jared, born 1895; Clowes Warren, born 1900; and Cecil Roy born 1907. Cecil was Jackie and Barbara’s father.

• Daughter Vernetta Gertrude (Jones) Barnes, “Vernie”, and her husband “Bill” or William Otis Barnes (my grandparents);

• Bill's mother, “Mrs. Barnes”, Bethia Augusta (Clapp) Barnes, who had died on 6 February 1928--only five days before Georgianne started the diary;

• Vernie and Bill’s children, Priscilla (my mother), Louise, Billy, and twins Abbie and Anne, whose ages ranged from three to thirteen;

So far I have not been able to ascertain the identity of “Nolan.”

Jones family photos are rare. I have one that could be of Frank, but all it says, in my grandmother's handwriting, is "Uncle Frank 1920". He looks older than 22 to me, and is dressed in a fine suit, which seems exaggerated given his occupation as clerk. She usually labelled people by how they related to her, so it's odd that she'd call him "Uncle Frank." As far as I know she didn't have an Uncle Frank, though, so perhaps it is, indeed, him.

The diary is almost a stream of consciousness, which is why I love it. I’m including a few of her entries below to give you a feel for it. It is too long to include in its entirety, but when I get my act together, I will upload it to my website.

Detail of above, Georgianne (Hagerman) Jones
Born 3 Feb 1868, Queensbury, York, New Brunswick
Died 3 June 1932, Lawrence, Essex, Massachusetts

-------

Saturday 

Feb. 11th 1928 

Mrs. Barnes [speaking to her daughter's mother-in-law]

you have gone to your beautiful home over there. I have been thinking of you ever since you passed on

First you was always good, sweet and good to everybody. Always wore a smile and dear Frank liked you and you was good to him and all the boys and to all of us.

I know you are happy
Just gone on before
Through the open door
Where all the love ones met
you and I hear the soft
Murmur. Ah so happy so happy 

-------

Feb. 11th 1928

Ah spirit of light that has
guided you right
be though of good cheer
knowing we are here
sending rays of light
Around you day and night
ah though spirits we arte
to be attuned with the great divine
spirit until we shall rise above

all the trying and grey condirations. Each day may we ask guidance for that day. When the day is done give thanks for something good that has been done.

Knowing that God is lone power and strength sufficient for all needs. For all times and places. giving thanks at the end of the day

call all the wise spirits that you can each day at your command. Then soar in heights unknown until you are healed in mind soul and spirit heading back to earth that you have received in the silence when you ask and then receive, give thanks. Ah, though great divine spirit and loved ones that come close to me I give thank for the prayer that you answered when I said save my boy, the loved one of earth now in spirit. Who am I, so small, that

you heard the call and answered. Again I bow my head in thanks trying and believing that I will see that. I remain good and true always guided by truth love and have faith in thee.

Georgie

-------

march 12th 1928 

a letter from Frank was shown to me this morning. This is what it appeared to me. 

Dear Ma

I am alright and happy. Think of me just away doing well and that you will hear from time to time from me. Always thinking of home and love for all, hoping you will be as happy as you can be feeling in the space and time on rejoicing that I have gained a new place; not a stranger in a strange land but many faces. I see that seem to know me. And they lead me and guide me, with the thought always before me that I will be able to come into the home and you will know. And then I can help you. So don’t think it was a great sorrow that you have to dwell in but a great gain for you and me. Listen, Ma Dear the best place yep. Keep on thinking that yes, I see you. I went with you to see his mother. Keep on. Don’t turn to the right or left. Keep straight ahead. They would harm shall stand just where they are. Yes, poor Pa, I see him. I know when he thinks about me. I will (----) again like Clousy [Clowes] from Florida. Cecil heard me. Ernest thinks about me. I with he was happy now. He will soon be working. Better days are showing ahead

love oh love love

Frank

P.S. Bill, Vernie and all of them, I think of them and all the old times. Tell Vernie don’t cry, Vernie everything is all right. Good night.

Frank

-------

March 13th 1928

Dear Ma

No time, no place, just a great big place, always on the move. Always something new. I was glad everyone received my message. All but Clousy. It seems like collecting all your thought on one big whole. I am beginning to know and understand. I am not sorry it all happened as it did. It seemed like floating. Now I know. Don’t be sorry for anything. Just listen and I will be around. I wouldn’t want to be back in the old way. But glad I know that I can come into the home. The circle will never be broken. I am and will be one of you. That will be seen later. Of all the wonders that I passed through sometimes it seemed like being on a great wave that was always on the move. There came times when I could see through. Sometimes I would see you all--Sad- And I wished you could see it as it was, not with doubts and downcast. You heared me saying, Of course not. I could vibrate that and thought if I could of that I would be able to get something more through. I have heard ringing. something like this: The winds and waves, they shall all obey thy will. Peace. Be still. It sounded great. Something like the radio. There is a great wave that will wash over you. Then all old things will be washed away. Everything will be new. Remember I am alright. Just keep on to the end of the way. I will come nearly every day. Will go with you someday. I have no fear. Good ahead.

Love, Ah love

Frank

From out of the Silent throng 

-------

March 14th 1928 

Dear Mother

I come on the wave of the morning. You know I am not so far away. We don’t stand still. I haven’t got so very far but what I have learned is very clear and I am happy expecting something to be shown to me. I sense that I will see clearer and be able to get just a little farther. I was weary and my feet and legs bothered me so much that sometimes I go through again, but have been placed in the healing power class. I wonder sometimes how you learned it of knowing those things. There was no beginning you just tuned in. And I am going to find out a lot and tell you. Sometimes it’s light and sometimes clouded and shaky, but no grief. Know I think of you all, then I look and wonder, but will soon be so I will get it clear; the soldiers on the fields and the great white Pope that walked beside. You will get well and stand before the people as you have been told you would. I have a lot to work out yet but am happy you know. Yes love oh love

Frank

from a land that knows no sorrow

-------

I can feel her pain right in the pit of my stomach. The poor woman managed to calm herself this way, and at the same time, gives us an extremely personal peek into her heart. It's so touching. 

1. Massachusetts, Department of Public Health, Deaths, 1927, Lawrence, reg. no. 1056, Franklin D. Jones, 4 December 1927; certified copy issued by the Bureau of Vital Records and Statistics, Columbia Point, Boston, Mass.

My Mother's Genealogy Research Log/Travel Diary from May 1981

Three of four sisters and five siblings
Abbie (Barnes) Thompson, Priscilla (Barnes) FitzGerald
and Louise (Barnes) Sullivan, later Dodds
circa 1980, Scituate, Mass.

I miss my mother every day. She was so alive with curiosity and humor and integrity and love. Above all, she was really, really bright. Had a great memory and could, inter alia, calculate math problems in her head, knit argyle socks on size 0 needles, do the NY Times crossword in pen if she wanted (she was too humble to do so), tend a mean vegetable and flower garden, cane chairs, and she loved history and genealogy. She was patient and worked hard at everything and didn't get many official vacations, so she used everyday opportunities to have fun. I keep wishing she were around to experience genealogy on the web, and the big conferences, and all of the fun and rewarding things I get to do.

Happily, my mother, Priscilla, or "Ma," as I called her, kept the a few diaries in her lifetime. On this occasion, she and my Aunt Abbie managed to get away from their domestic duties long enough to go on genealogy tour! And happily again, she kept a diary of the trip. I just love this more than I can explain. I was flitting around in college at the time, totally NOT interested in genealogy, glad that my mother and aunt could have a grand time together, but thinking their research and interest in genealogy was, well, quaint. Now I'd forfeit a limb to have been on that trip with them. Such is life, I guess. "Don't it always seem to go," yada yada...

So, here it is, I know I have some photos of their trip in my office somewhere, but it will have to remain for another time that I unearth and post them. I added a few follow-up emails from my darling and equally brilliant Aunt Abbie which she wrote after I sent her the transcription.

Notes from Priscilla FitzGerald’s Diary, 

"Trip to Frederickton, New Brunswick with sister Abbie Thompson, for Purpose of Ancestor Hunting"

May, 1981

Wednesday, May 20, 1981

Left home at 9:45am. Take off at 11:20. Lovely seat, companion from Phoenix Arizona - said, "Don't make me look out the window or the plane will fall." Had to put down and go through customs in Yarmouth. Arrived in Halifax 2:30 or so. Had to wait for Provincial Air lines flight to Fredericton until 6:30. Arr. in Fredericton 7:25. Abbie already familiar with the city. Had late supper of seafood chowder which was yummy. Late to bed – long after 12. (In parenthesis in margin, "Called Jim.")

Thursday, May 21, 1981

Had breakfast at hotel (Hotel Beaverbrook). To the Archives at 8:30. Had lunch at Keddy Motel. To Archives until 5:00pm. Bought book at Archives autographed by author Rob't Fellows. Found that John Hagerman owned land where the Legislative buildings are (and Hotel Beaverbrook) and died on the way back to St. John after a trip to Fredericton. Shopped for food and booze, came back to hotel to sample same. Had a late supper and went to bed late. (In margin, "Called Hagermans to tell Doris we would be out Sunday.")

Friday May 22, 1981

Slept until 7:20. Five minutes late getting to the Archives. Found Peleg Tripp's parents were Peleg Tripp and Jane Ogden. Lovely late dinner – fish dinner. Sitting around relaxing and Abbie says, "One nice thing about this trip, no phones are ringing." Phone rang. Paul Brewer called and arranged to travel with us Saturday. Played 2-handed bridge. To bed late.

Saturday, May 23, 1981

Up at 6:00am - breakfasted on cheese omelet. Picked up Paul Brewer across the river and went to Tripp Settlement, Burtt's Corners. Jones Forks examining cemetaries. Saw where the Mactaquac Dam has risen and filled up the valley with water. Paul talked to a Harry Gilbey and he says that prob. Peleg Tripp (the first – Loyalist) was prob. buried on a ridge near Keswick Ridge on his own property. Said Peleg was supposed to be a wheeler-dealer. Had lunch at the lovely Mactaquac Country Club. Went shopping for booze for Jim, present for Polly and slippers. Raw and very windy out. Walked a long way looking for a book store – which was closed. Late supper and late to bed.

Sunday, May 24, 1981

Rose early enough, but didn't get under weigh until 7:20. Motored up to Hartland to see and drive over and back on the longest wooden bridge in the world. Came back down #2 highway and crossed the river at Nackawic. Had a little difficulty finding our Hagermans, but found them. First, we went to church and there was Neil Hagerman. (Passed a church with the steeple lying on the ground.) Doris and Neil Hagerman not very interested in our visit, but Donnie was there and we both loved him. He took us down to show us how high the river had risen – their house would be about one third of the way across the river – showed us all the pictures of the family and went with us to see the Bear Island Cemetery – where his father and mother, grandfather and mother and great grandfather and mother and Aunt Maud and Cousin Alma Lint are buried.*  Beautiful cemetery on a high hill. Donald is a lovely man. Weather fine. People boating on the river. Found that "Captain J. Hagerman d. 1838 aged LVI also May his wife died Dec. 26, 1849 aged 72 years." were bd. there. Mary was born in Long Island. Also buried, but with no stones were Isaac and Louisa and Jacob and Mehitabel. Myles Hagerman was buried in B. I. Cemetery also. (Donnie's brother.) Major domo at church presented Ab and me with a pen and key ring. All kinds of birds to be seen. Donnie stated matter-of-factly that Doris is "senile now." No apologies. No glossing.

Happy hour.

Had a fisherman's platter for dinner. (Ate junk food and nothing else all day.) Wrote cards. To bed late.

*Probably Cornelius, father of Jacob, and his wife are there, too, but nobody knows. Because of the Mactaquac Dam, Church, cemetery, inhabitants, live inhabitants and all were moved uphill. Interesting. Cornelius was son of Captain John. Donnie gave Abbie a piece of yellow brick for her fireplace. (In margin, "Called Jim, Louise and Anne.")

May 25, 1981 Monday

Up early and to Archives. Found that Betsey Smith's parents were Stephen Smith and Elizabeth Golden. A good find. Had lunch at the Keddy – onion soup and a poor drink. Back to Archives until 4:00pm or so and then to Harriet Irving Library and then to Geary to see the Carr Cemetery and then around Grand Lake to see Cumberland Point where John Stillwell was at one time – Sparsely settled. Looked in all the church yards but couldn't find any Stillwells. Crossed the St. John River on a ferry boat and came home the scenic way. Arrived at hotel 8:30 had a quick sherry and braised beef for supper. All the apple orchards are in bloom. Very pretty. Also found Grandmother Jones (Isaac Hagerman's family), and Jared Jones (Darius Jones' family) in the 1881 census list. He was 20 and she was 12.

Tuesday, May 26, 1981

Up early – breakfasted at hotel and got to Archives at 8:30. Didn't find anything new but tied up loose ends of a couple of things. Had to get stamps and get my money out of hotel safe, so we came back to hotel to have lunch. Returned to Archives and spent an hour or more and then took a tour up around Kewsick Ridge and Burtt's Corner and looked at 3 or 4 more cemeteries. Rain off and on. Returned to hotel about 7:30. Had happy hour and ate an enormous and delicious and expensive dinner across the street at the Victoria and Albert restaurant. Had 2 sherries, a tossed salad, lamb chops and braised tomatoes, and tasty mushrooms and then half a piece of fresh strawberry cheesecake and coffee. Saw beautiful scenes on our trip today and yesterday and Sunday and Saturday. Came upon 2 young men stranded in the wilderness but as I had a lot of money on me, we passed them by. But stopped at the first house we saw to report that they should be helped. Hope they were. (In parenthesis in margin, "Called Jim.")

E-mail from Ab. Oct. 1997

My Loyalist number is----MC  2041-80, and I think it was through John Stillwell. They wanted me to go through Hagerman because it was closer to my generation.  But I knew that would then go through Vernetta, and we had no birth for her. Stillwell came down through Jared Jones so was easier to prove. Maybe I can send you my line. If I can find it. Lots of Loyalists we have--Hagerman, Ogden, maybe Tripp, Smith, Stillwell, Boone, Burtt, Golden, Foreman, Carr, Whelpley, but not the Joneses. They were pre-Loyalist.

E-mail from

Ab. 11/7/97

Thank you for the diary of your Ma's re that week in Fredericton, N.B. Except when I was a little girl and sick a lot in winter & your Ma would read lovely books to me that week was the nicest time I ever had with Priscilla. We were doing what we both loved and had a peachy time besides.

Justice of the Peace Records and Silvanus "Who's Your Daddy" Savage, Part 2

Continued from previous post. This is the second of two paternity complaints sworn again the aptly named Silvanus Savage. Analysis will follow in yet another post.

 This is Part Two of a Three-Part Post. 

Click here for Post One.

Click here for Post Three.

-----------------
Polly Clark vs. Silvanus Savage¹

“To Michael Gill Esq one of the Justices of the Peace
within and for the County of Worcester ––

Complains Polly Clark of Princeton in said County
single woman that on the twentysecond day of february last she was
delivered of a Male Bastard Child and that Silvanus
Savage of Princeton aforesaid Blacksmith is the Father of
said Child   She therefore desires a prosecution against the
said Silvanus Savage and that he may be held to Answer
this accusation as the Law in such cases directs ––
Princeton May 27, 1802 [original signature] Polly Clark

Worcester ss. May 2[  ] [sic] 1802 The above named Polly Clark ––
personally appeared and made Oath to the truth of the
above accusation by her signed. ––
before me      [original signature] Michael Gill Just Pacis

The examination of Polly Clark of Princeton in the County of Worcester Single Woman
who saith upon Oath that on the twentysecond day of february
last she was delivered of a Male bastard Child and that
Silvanus Savage of Princeton aforesaid is the Father of said
Child he having begotten the same on the twentieth day
of June last at Princeton aforesaid
     [original signature] Polly Clark

Worcester ss Taken and Sworn to before me this twentyseventh
day of May AD 1802
  [original signature] Michael Gill Just Pacis

Transcribed verbatim, 13 October 2006, by Polly Kimmitt

1. Princeton, Worcester, Massachusetts, complaint of paternity, Polly Clark vs. Silvanus Savage,  executed and acknowledged 27 May 1802, Michael Gill, Justice of the Peace. From a private collection; unlabelled 9” x 15” blue vinyl 3-ring binder, second page (unnumbered). Provenance prior to present collection is unknown. 

------------
To be continued!

Justice of the Peace Records and Silvanus "Who's Your Daddy" Savage, Part 1

This is Part One of a Three-Part Post. 
Click here for Post Two. 
Click here for Post Three.


Justices of the Peace
In Massachusetts the Justice of the Peace was the official to whom minor complaints were made. He was entitled to take depositions, impose fines, order property seizures, perform marriages, and try small cases (no jury). Since this lowest court was usually held in the justice’s home, the resultant records are scattered about in repositories and private collections, and are extremely difficult to locate. These complaints would initiate a subsequent court case, so a search in the county courthouse may prove fruitful.

I'm lucky enough to have a good friend who is a historian with an encyclopedic mind and a great collection. When it came time for me to prepare the "applicant-supplied document" in my certification portfolio, he came up with two delicious documents for me to analyze. I will blog about them separately so as not to make my posts too long, but they are interrelated. I love them for the genealogical questions they bring up and because you can almost feel the emotions they generate.

They concern two distinct complaints of paternity sworn by two women against the same man on the same day! And the man has the self-fulfilling name of Silvanus Savage. Being a respectable woman and all, I can't tell you the translation from Latin form into Anglo-Saxon, but it makes me laugh.

 A Complaint of Paternity: Debby Smith vs. Silvanus Savage¹

"Τo Michael Gill Esq. one of the Justices of the Peace
within and for the County of Worcester––

Complains Debbyah Smith of Princeton in said
County Singlewoman That on this twenty seventh day
of May AD 1802 she was delivered of a Female Bastard
Child and that Silvanus Savage of the same Princeton Blacksmith
is the father of said child   She therefore desires a prosecution
against the said Silvanus Savage and that he may be held
to answer this accusation as the Law in such cases
directs.
Princeton May 27th 1802 –             [original signature] Debby Smith

Worcester ss. May 27. 1802. Debbyah Smith above named
made oath to the truth of the above Accusation by
her signed –– before me   [original signature] Michael Gill

The Examination of Debbyah Smith of Princeton in the
County of Worcester Single woman who saith upon
oath that on this twenty seventh day of May AD 1802
she was delivered of a female Bastard Child and that
Silvanus Savage of said Princeton Blacksmith  . is the father of said
child, he having begotten the same on the Ninth day
of October Last at Princeton aforesaid.
                                 [original signature] Debby Smith

Worcester ss. Taken and Sworn to before me the Subscriber one
of the Justices of the Peace for the said County of
Worcester this twentyseventh day of May AD 1802
  [original signature] Michael Gill”


Transcribed verbatim, 12 October 2006, by Polly Kimmitt.


1. Princeton, Worcester, Massachusetts, complaint of paternity, Debby Smith vs. Silvanus Savage, executed and acknowledged 27 May 1802, Michael Gill, Justice of the Peace. From private collection; unlabelled 9” x 15” blue vinyl 3-ring binder, first page (unnumbered). Provenance prior to private collection is unknown.

To be continued!

Treasures from a Church Fair

Sweet little church, Kings Landing Historical Settlement, New Brunswick

I was the Church Historian at the First Congregational Church in Shrewsbury for about six years. In 1998 I met my predecessor, Barbara Santon, when I was taking the National Genealogical Society's Basic Course in American Genealogy. One assignment was to go to a church and learn about their archives. Barbara was the Church Historian and was so friendly and welcoming I loved her instantly! We must have talked and laughed for three hours that day, and before I left she was already grooming me to take over, as I happened along just as her term was ending. Lucky me!

Barbara called herself "The Hat Lady" because she loved to wear fancy hats: not the Red Hat Society kind of hats, but classy, British wedding-type hats. Gloves, too! She was smart as a whip, a very snappy dresser, had a bawdy sense of humor and was a dedicated worker. Anyway, one of the many talents Barbara shared with the church was her ability to organize a church fair. She had a favorite poem which she had unearthed in the archives. Though it describes a springtime fair, I thought it appropriate for the season, as in New England, we tend to have lots of fairs in the Fall due to our gorgeous yearly pageantry of color.

The poem had no source attributed, but seemed to be written by the ladies in the congregation who were organizing the fair.

“LINES" ON AN EARLY FAIR 1838

Thrice welcome are ye all, kind friends,
To meet us here today,
Ye’ve called to see our fairy things
This twenty-fourth of May.

We welcome thee, for here thine eyes
With pleasure shall behold
A multitude of pretty things
All ready to be sold.

Here is a beau for some fair lass,
All dressed in sailor’s clothes,
He will ne’er give thee one cross look,
Nor will he come to blows.

Here is a lady gay and prim,
Say, will you buy her too?
Her clothes are fine, and then her cheeks
Are of the reddest hue.

Here’s pin-balls, cheats, and needle-books,
Of various form and size,
And hearts rejoice with Scripture lines
To make you truly wise.

Here’s dickeys, ruffled bosoms too,
For gentlemen to wear,
And for the ladies, turbans, nets
Which will preserve the hair.

Here’s tulips, cherries, flowers, to sell,
With baskets, boxes fine.
And racks to hold the ladies’ cards,
And useful in their line.

Come buy; the object’s truly good;
The poor and needy claim
A portion of your liberal hand;
They’ll thank you for the same.

It is more blessed, as we read,
To give than to receive,
And we shall feel the promise sure,
If we this truth believe.

And now we proffer you our thanks,
And ask you for a share,
And hope you never will repent
Of coming to our Fair.

First Congregational Church, Shrewsbury, Massachusetts

I can't find access info on this year's fair, but here's a newspaper announcement from a couple of years ago.

SATURDAY, OCT. 25, 2008

Church Fair — The First Congregational Church of Shrewsbury plans a Church Fair from 9 a.m. to 2 p.m. In addition to the “gems” at the always-popular Jewelry Table, there will be jams and jellies, baked goods, knit and craft goods and plants for sale. There will also be a Silent Auction, Flea Market and Cookie Walk. The First Congregational Church is the Church on the Green in the center of Shrewsbury at Main Street and Route 140. All are welcome.

Honoring Col. Timothy Bigelow

A few years ago our DAR chapter organized a ceremony to celebrate the restoration of a monument erected to our chapter namesake, Col. Timothy Bigelow. One of our members, Kay Kingsbury had worked for years to bring the project to fruition and for her preservation work she was recognized by the National Society as tops in New England.

A postcard of the monument
from a turn of the century postcard

Timothy Bigelow was a blacksmith in Worcester who raised a company of Worcester men and fought long and hard in the American Revolution. He died penniless in a Worcester jail. I won't say much about him now, but thought I'd include the few words I was asked to say on that occasion, as Regent of the Col. Timothy Bigelow Chapter.

Invocation
Let Us Pray.

Heavenly Father,
Grant us the wisdom to consider our past. In every age, You call upon us to defend the human family from oppression, tyranny, and evil. Since our founding as a nation "conceived in liberty," countless Americans have stepped forward to defend these principles. 

We gather today to remember Col. Timothy Bigelow, Worcester’s greatest soldier... It is good to commemorate brave deeds. It is an homage due to our heroic dead, and it reminds the living of the courage and self-sacrifice of earlier champions of our freedom and independence... Monuments are silent monitors, richly eloquent in the teachings of a bygone age... By honoring Col. Timothy Bigelow, Worcester honors herself. Help us to remember that what great Americans have achieved, we are expected to guard and maintain.

We ask Your blessing on all veterans past and present, and we pray for our troops and their families, and for the peace we all seek. Amen.

Thanks to Kay
On behalf of the Colonel Timothy Bigelow Chapter, Daughters of the American Revolution, I would like to thank Kay Kingsbury for her tireless efforts in the enormous project of the restoring this monument. She has been relentless in her pursuit of recognition of Colonel Bigelow, and is a great friend to the city of Worcester. Thank you, Kay!

Newly restored with a magnolia wreath

This monument was first erected 147 years ago. It was dedicated, 86 years after the Battle of Lexington started the Revolutionary War, on April 19, 1861. The dedication was not a small affair. Buildings throughout the city were festooned with red, white and blue bunting. Spectators thronged the streets. It was more than a ceremony to them. It was a remembrance of the sacrifices made by their ancestors to secure their freedom. And it was a patriotic rally, since at that moment, Worcester’s troops were enroute to the South, eager to do battle for their country’s imperilled rights in the Civil War. Sentiments were strong, and the air was thick with patriotic fervor. They did not take freedom for granted.

A cortege of carriages paraded through the streets, carrying honored guests such as present and past Mayors, ex-Governor Lincoln, Stephen Salisbury, Col. Lawrence Bigelow, and countless other dignitaries. They were accompanied by Captain Waldo Lincoln’s Company D, fire engines, hose companies, several bands, and Father Mathew of the Temperance Society. There must have been a lot of noise and activity on that April day as all were cheered on by the citizens of Worcester.

Today, our gathering is more modest, but we are here because we do not forget the sacrifices made for our benefit.

Benediction
Let Us Pray

Lord, protect us each and every one.
Inspire us to be peaceful on this planet we call home,
for all the world is our family.

We give our heartfelt thanks for America's independence
So courageously fought for and won, because of the bravery and strength shown by men like the one we honor here, Col. Timothy Bigelow.

With appreciation for others having cleared the way, ...
for a land of opportunity where freedom is a given for all...
We give our humble thanks.

Finally, we again ask Your blessing on all veterans past and present and we pray for our troops and their families. Amen.

Some members of the Col. William Henshaw Chapter of the SAR and
the Col. Timothy Bigelow Chapter of the DAR. Kay Kingsbury is front and center.