Wordless Wednesday Revisited on Thursday

George, Kathryn and Bob

I love this photograph of my uncles and their cousin. I love it and I am jealous for this is how I would like to live life. Uncle George, Uncle Bob and Cousin Kathryn are completely at ease with each other. Heads gently touch and arms are comfortably draped around each other drawing them close together. Their smiles are genuine and warm my heart.

George was the oldest born in 1916. Bob was born in 1920 and Kathryn was the youngest born in 1923.  Life wasn’t always easy for the family. Challenges of the Depression didn’t dim their spirit. So much trouble yet George, Bob and Kathryn had so much to look forward to. Are they aware of the looming conflict of World War II? I don’t know. These three appear to be living in the moment.

Linda

Wordless Wednesday

Fathers Day

1625 Lincoln Avenue

This is the last photograph taken in front of my childhood home, 1625 Lincoln Avenue. It was a small home, but a good one. We did a lot living in the fifty years at 1625 Lincoln Avenue.

This photo holds bittersweet memories. It was St. Patrick’s Day and my parents were moving. Dad was looking forward to the move into a condominium. My Mother was on the verge of tears at the thought of leaving her home. I think mixed feelings are a common occurrence when making life changes.

Little did we know that Dad was seriously ill. He was diagnosed with ALS shortly after the move. Mom and Dad were able to enjoy the condo for a few months before he began experiencing the effects of his illness.

 

Linda

Memorial Day, 2013

 

I thank God for my Grandmother Meyer. Her Bible holds The Meyer Family treasures and each time I turn the pages of her Bible I find a new treasure. Here is a newspaper clipping from 1942 and a photograph of the sons she prayed for.

Alvin, Marvin, Paul, Bob and George Meyer

First Day of Advent: Oh, Christmas Tree

My Mother and Father loved Christmas. They had one hard, fast requirement for their adult children and that was our presence on Christmas Eve. They earned the well-deserved nickname of Mr. and Mrs. Christmas.

These children of The Depression loved watching their children and grandchildren open mountains gifts around the Christmas tree.  Mom and Dad had two Christmas trees. The nicest tree could be found at the living room picture window. Mom’s favorite ornaments and carefully arranged garland would grace that tree. It was Mom’s “Good Tree.”

The lesser tree would be placed in the basement. The large space accommodated our family in a comfy way. The basement tree was a hearty and artificial for it needed to withstand dashing children, airborne balls, darts, and other flying projectiles.

It seemed that Christmas Eve celebrations around that basement tree would never end. But end they did as all good things sometimes do.

My Father passed away December 5, 2005 and Mom passed away September 6, 2008. Each Christmas season I place a small Christmas tree at my parent’s grave. Yesterday I made my trip to Town of Maine Cemetery to visit and decorate their grave with their Christmas tree.

As I made my way, “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas” played on my car radio and there were the words . . .

Through the years

We all will be together,

If the Fates allow. . .

If the Fates allow . . . I never imagined Christmas without my parents and it is the reason why each Christmas season I place a small Christmas tree at my parent’s grave in memory of all the love that surrounded a lifetime of Christmas trees. 

Mom and Dad's Basement Christmas Tree waiting for the grandchildren to arrive!

 

Veteran’s Day 2013

 I miss my World War II Father and Uncles. My Grandparents had four of their five sons serve during World War II. Today’s photographs are of my grandparent’s home.

It was a blessing that their four boys came home safely when so many young men did not get that opportunity. I hope everyone understands and remembers the courage and sacrifice of The Greatest Generation.

My sons were interested in my father’s war stories; which Dad gladly shared. I remember one night when Dad was telling about how he crossed the English Channel. He spoke of seasickness and of being fired upon. My very young son innocently replied that he would just dive under the water and my father told him bullets go under water too.

In Loving Memory of Bob, Al, George and Marvin Meyer

Happy Birthday, Mom!

Today is my Angel Mother’s Birthday. I must say I miss her more than ever. I find myself wishing for her wisdom; which is something I rarely did in my younger years. It would be nice to have her shoulder to lean on rather than being the shoulder that others lean on.

Please enjoy this small video remembering my mother’s eightieth birthday celebration for it was her last healthy birthday.

Earlier this summer I had submitted an essay to Lynn Palermo’s “The Moment You Knew,” writing challenge. Lynn Palermo is the author of The Armchair Genealogist. I enjoy reading Lynn’s blog as she focuses on writing family stories. You may find The Armchair Genealogist AND my essay at: http://www.armchairgenealogist.com.

Lynn selected my submission to be published today, July 12, 2012.  This date just so happens to be my Mother’s birthday. I cannot tell you how grateful I am to Lynn for her kindness.  

As always this post is written with gratitude.

Linda

In Flanders Field

In Flanders Field

In Flanders Fields the poppies blow

Between the crosses row on row,

That mark our place; and in the sky

The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved and were loved, and now we lie

In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders Fields.

By Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD

Canadian Army

Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, M.D., “In Flanders Field,” Arlington Cemetery (http://www.arlintoncemetery.net/flanders.htm : accessed 28 May 2012).

This Memorial Day I visited two locations.

In search of  Memorial Day treasures, my first visit was to my Grandmother Meyer’s Family Bible. Dried poppies from Flanders Field were a gift from her son, Robert. Uncle Bob, a World War II veteran, visited Flanders Field in 1941 and sent this poppy home for his mother. My Grandmother preserved another flower; this one came from Korea. Her son, Paul, followed his older brother’s lead and while serving in Korea sent a Japanese Rose home to his mother. Both wartime gifts were obviously appreciated as they were saved in her Bible.

My second visit was to the gravestones my World War II Veteran Father and my Mother. My Father was a medic during World War II. He built hospitals, drew blood and retrieved the wounded throughout Europe. 

For some reason, my father never got on the American Legion Veteran list. As a result, his grave is not decorated with an American Flag. Each Memorial Day I place a flag by his gravestone. I don’t mind.

The cemetery was quiet, as usual, until I heard a single trumpet. A young man standing in the center of the cemetery was playing taps in honor of the veterans of the Town of Maine Cemetery, Park Ridge, Illinois. It was very somber moment. That sound took me back in time to my father’s funeral. I last heard taps played on a very snowy day in December, 2005. 

I must honor my other veteran ancestors of the Town of Maine Cemetery.

The Town of Maine Cemetery has a Civil War Memorial. My family and I passed by this Memorial for my entire life and never realized that Ferdinand Meyer, Civil War Veteran, was a paternal ancestor.

I must also mention my Uncle Dick Dollen. He was killed in an accidental fall while painting his ship in dry dock shortly after enlisting in the Navy. His safety harness failed.

 

With Gratitude For All Those Who Serve.

Life Happens In The Kitchen

I remember my Grandma Meyer’s kitchen. It was a big kitchen with white cabinets and a large kitchen table. My grandmother would bake blueberry buckle for us. During thunderstorms we would find our way to the kitchen and sit under her kitchen table.  If it wasn't storming, you might find us playing Bunco there.  Her kitchen was spacious and fit her large family nicely.

The kitchen has always been and most likely will always be the perfect place for people to congregate and so it was with Grandma’s kitchen. It was there, surrounded by my girl cousins, that I heard my grandmother tell of an important event that just occurred in our family.

Grandma’s first-born granddaughter, Kathy, had become our families’ first college graduate!  Grandma was filled with such pride and joy. I remember watching her face and listening to her words. It was the first time I heard the word . . . College. That day in the kitchen when I heard that word, my entire world opened up and I began to contemplate my future. If Kathy could go to college, so could I.

I am reminded of this moment after viewing my grandparent’s 1940 census records.

Last night I played with the 1940 census attempting to locate my grandparents, George and Olga Meyer. I did not expect any major revelations, as I know my family very well.

There is nothing like searching your hometown records. As I browsed page by page, those familiar street names transported me back home to my beginnings even though 1940 was before my time. I did look at the records for my childhood home, 1625 Lincoln Avenue. It was the Palmer's home in 1940.

Finally I located Grandma and Grandpa’s home and it were right where it supposed be on Spruce Street. Each census asks different questions. In 1940 census takers asked this question: What was the highest grade in school completed? I did just mention how I knew everything about my Meyer family, right? Well, I was wrong. And now for my surprise . . . Grandpa Meyer completed seven years of school and Grandma Meyer completed eight years of school. I was humbled.

Now I have a deeper understanding of my grandmother’s excitement when her first grandchild became a college graduate. Other grandchildren followed in Kathy’s footsteps: Mike, Alice, Dick, Jeff, Holly and myself. Robin entered into the family carpentry business. I wonder what her thoughts were as each grandchild earned a college degree. 

This is my grandparent’s home today. Though they reside in heaven, this home that was built by my grandfather will always be theirs; at least in my eyes.  I hope you have a chance to view the 1940 census records sometime.

The 1940 U.S. Census Has Arrived!!!!

For those involved in the genealogy world, the long awaited day has arrived. The National Archives released the 1940 census for viewing. Naturally, the servers are overworked with anxious genealogists trying to get a peak at the newest census records. 

I was working on Ancestry.com last night and as the clock turned to a new day Ancestry posted an announcement about the 1940 census being opened. What an opportunity! I thought I might be the first one to actually perform a search. That was not to be as the census went live at 8:00 a.m. not midnight.

As with anything new, there will be a learning curve in finding ancestors in this census for records have been organized by enumeration districts. Enumeration districts are divisions within a township or county. Census takers were assigned an enumeration district. Each E.D. has a number. If you know the enumeration district your ancestor resided in, it should be pretty easy to locate their census records. However, if their residence is unknown, the task will be much more difficult.

My grandfather, George William Meyer, lived in the enumeration district 16-2200.  I entered his name, state and enumeration district number into the appropriate places at The National Archives website thinking I would receive information on one E.D. Naturally, this district is divided into two sections. As I don’t know which section he lived in, finding his information would require searching on a map of the area. The National Archives browsers are swamped with eager genealogist research requests and I couldn’t pull the information in a timely way. Patience will be required.

Please meet my grandfather, George William Meyer. His sons and two of his future daughter-in-laws surround him in their family home. Alvin leans against the door frame. Paul kneels and is wearing the reindeer sweater. My father sits on the floor with my Auntie Betty's arm around his shoulder. Grandpa sits in his rocker happy to have his sons safely home from war. Bob and his future bride, Arlene, are in the right hand corner of the photo. This photo was most likely taken by George, the family's photographer.

Grandmotherly Love

Yesterday’s Wordless Wednesday post was a family photograph. I chuckle when I see this photograph because it speaks volumes about my grandmothers.

The subject of the photograph is my maternal grandmother, Henrietta Evelina Danker Dollen Haskins. As you can see, my grandmother loved to have a good time! She was a flapper. She was engaged twice prior to marrying at the age of seventeen.

So, there she is, my mischievous, maternal grandmother with streamers around her neck and party poppers inserted in her nostrils and ears! It must be New Year’s Eve as she is raising a glass in a toasting gesture. Grandma Haskins is thoroughly enjoying her moment. She is the life of the party!

Let your eyes wander to the back of the photograph and you will see my paternal grandmother, Olga Bertha Louise Schumann Meyer. This grandmother is cradling my brother, Jeff, in her arms.  Jeff is about six months of age. Grandma Meyer is completely in love with the little boy in her arms and thoroughly enjoying her moment.

Those grandmothers of mine are radically different people! They are both beautiful, loving women who lived life in the own unique style.  Watching each of my grandmothers in action makes me treasure this photograph.

The boy with the patch on his eye is my brother, Dick. He had lazy eye and needed to wear the patch to correct his vision. His left arm did not get into the picture. If it did, you would have seen his arm in a cast.

 

That is me on the left. I am that half a girl watching my silly grandmother!

Primary and Secondary Information

Life returns to normal and I return to my genealogy world with time to breathe, think and write!

My last post of December 16, 2011, focused on my Uncle Robert Meyer. I am always struck by coincidences. December 16  marked my uncle’s birth date, the beginning of the Battle of the Bulge and his participation in that battle. December 16 was most certainly a significant date of his life!

Family lore can be very interesting. My uncle was present during the Battle of the Bulge and was a credible witness to the event. He told his story to the males of our family. In turn, I heard the stories from my father, my brother and my husband. Unfortunately, my uncle passed away and I lost my primary informant.

This presented a problem. Initially, I wrote the post by telling the story I had heard from my father, brother and husband. It was a good story! Just prior to posting I gave my cousin, Robbin, a call asking him for details of his father’s war experience.

Robbin became my secondary informant. While he was not present during his father’s war experiences, he did hear the war stories from his father. My secondary informant supplied me with details of his father’s battalion, battles he fought in and the story of the birthday cake. He told the personal side of his father’s war experiences.

Here is the story I heard from my father, my brother and my husband.

On December 16, 1944 my uncle slept on the second floor of a German farmhouse located in the Ardennes Forest of Belgium. There was a knock on the farmhouse door. The sleeping soldiers knew Germans were at the door as no American would ever knock. They immediately rose, grabbed their gear and jumped out the second floor window. They ran for their truck, and sped away throwing grenades at the Germans. The Germans had come in the front door as my uncle jumped out the window!

Uncle Bob’s battalion was missing in action. At the end of the war, my uncle was in Austria busy cleaning up pocket of resistance. He continued fighting until someone informed him that the war was over. There was no need to fight any longer.

With his whereabouts unknown my grandmother began writing letters to newspapers and Congressmen asking for help in locating her son. He eventually returned home due to her letter writing campaign!

Please compare this story with my December 16 post. Genealogical research strives to find accurate information from informants who were as close to the event as possible. My cousin, Robbin, provided greater detail of his father’s war experience.

Robbin does not know exactly where his father was sleeping that morning of December 16. While possible, he could not confirm that he slept in a German farmhouse.  The Ardennes Forest is a thick forest and this suggests that he most likely slept in trenches.

My version comes from stories told by my uncle to my father. My father told my brothers and my husband. I heard them but did not pay close attention. With each retelling and my poor listening skills, details may have changed.

My grandmother most likely wrote letters looking for her son’s safe return though I doubt her letters were the sole reason for his return. To my knowledge no letters exist.  Most likely a combination of events occurred both here and in Europe.

With the desire to provide accurate information, I rewrote my post.

Intersections of Life

  

Robert Helmuth Meyer

December 16, 1920 - October 30, 2011

Today I honor my Uncle Robert Meyer.  He was the third of five sons born to Olga and George Meyer. They were a happy family who weathered the Depression then found themselves facing World War II as many Americans did. Four of the five sons served during World War II.

The Meyer Home

Uncle Bob was a radioman in the 535^th AAA Battalion. His battalion was attached to the 99^th Infantry Division;  which was a companion to the 101^st  Airborne. Wherever the 101^st  was, my uncle was not far away.

AAA stands for anti-aircraft and automatic weapons. Uncle Bob’s battalion protected bridges and airfields. He helped defend the famed Remagen Bridge. During the Normandy Invasion, he landed in the first wave on Utah Beach with the job protecting the battleships in the channel.

Intersections of Life: He continued to fight throughout Europe occasionally crossing paths with his brothers. One time my Dad was traveling in a truck when he saw his brother, Bob, sitting in a tree beside the road. Dad quickly jumped out the truck and the lucky brothers were reunited.

Intersections of Life: His path also intersected with older brother, Al. Al drove a tank named “The Destroyer.” One day Uncle Al was sitting in his tank when a guy came up to him and asked him if he had a brother, Bob. Bob and Al were just one mile apart! Al was granted permission to see his brother. Backtracking a mile Uncle Al and Uncle Bob were reunited. I can only imagine how happy they were to see each other.

Intersections of Life: In December 1944 Uncle Bob found himself in the Ardennes Forest of Belgium. His birthday was December 16^th and had received a birthday cake baked by his mother. There was no time to enjoy if for The Battle of the Bulge had begun. There are stories of Germans using captured jeeps and uniforms to imitate American soldiers. So when the battle began, his first responsibility was to destroy his radio and all papers and abandon that birthday cake.

Uncle Bob was on the front line and stationed in Krinklet, Belgium when the German Panzers rolled over the 99^th Infantry. The battalions scattered and the 535^th was listed as lost in action for a very long time.

Americans created deep trenches in this heavily wooded forest by bombing the ground. The large holes were cleaned up and topped with tree. A final layer of pine boughs were added creating warm, safe trenches. The Germans bombarded American forces by firing high above the Ardennes Forest. Bombs exploded in the air, tops of trees were blown off and shrapnel rained down on American soldiers. My uncle feared thunderstorms throughout the rest of his life. The rolling of thunder sent him back to the Ardennes Forest.

Back to the birthday cake…. It is said that a high-ranking German official inspected the vacated trenches and found a birthday cake. There are reports that he knew the war was lost. Germans had trouble getting necessary fuel, but an American could receive a birthday cake? I have read comments that the cake came from Iowa or New York. I wonder if that German official came upon my uncle’s cake from Illinois? You never know.

Uncle Bob continued to serve his country now as a MP. He made his way to Austria and then to Paris. World War II officially ended 2 September 1945 and men were beginning to return home. Uncle Bob’s battalion was not rotated home for they were still considered lost in battle. His Captain angrily asked,
“Why aren’t my men going home?” Eventually Uncle Bob returned home. His service to our nation began in October 1942 and ended 6 December 1945 just in time his twenty-fifth birthday!

One Christmas season, Uncle Bob sent his Christmas card making note the anniversary of the Battle of the Bulge. My husband belongs to an organization that spans the globe and sent my uncle’s Battle of the Bulge story out to membership of the organization. Several members had British roots and responded in thanks for the “Yanks” who bravely defended them. I sent those responses on for Uncle Bob to enjoy. I regret not saving a copy of them for my growing genealogy collection.

Linda

The Fifth Day of Advent = Outdoor Lights

Chevy Chase’s antics in the movie Christmas Vacation makes me chuckle every Christmas season! My Dad was our family’s “exterior illumination specialist.” He always did a great job lighting the outside of our home minus Chevy’s antics.

Dad decorated our home with strings of beautiful red, green, yellow and blue colored bulbs. They were the big, old fashioned bulbs not the tiny ones of today. Dad pulled out his trusty ladder and decorated our home in all kinds of weather transforming our little home into something magical. Oh, how we waited in anticipation as he worked away.

As we grew older, kids in the neighborhood changed. They started spoiling Dad’s fun by cutting the strings of lights. Out he marched wondering what on earth happened only to learn the truth. Never fear, out came another string of lights to replace the damaged ones. No one would stop our lamplighter from brightening the Christmas sky!

What better day to pay tribute to my lamplighter, Father! On December 5, 2005, Dad passed quietly away. The Apostle Paul tells us that what we see is temporary and what we don’t see is eternal. God Bless my Father, Marvin Otto Meyer. While I no longer see him in person, his light shines in all whose lives he touched.

With Loving Gratitude,

Linda

Worldless Wednesday

Home Is Where Your Story Begins

Everything begins at home. While 1625 Lincoln Avenue was neither my first home nor my last, it was my childhood home. It is here that I lived during my formative years and where my childhood memories reside. 1625 Lincoln Avenue gives me warm, fuzzy feelings. If stories begin at home, I can think of no better title for this blog of mine for this is where my story began.

My family home was built in 1953. My parents purchased it on 20 November 1957 from A. Edward and Alice Leclair. Mom and Dad lived at 1625 Lincoln Avenue for fifty two years! Failing health necessitated the move to a condominium on St. Patrick’s Day, 2005. 

Our last family photograph at 1625 Lincoln Avenue!

 

We grew up happily in our three bedroom, one bath home! Creative problem solving skills were perfected with four children (two of them teenagers) and one bathroom. My father got first “dibs” on the bathroom every morning, which meant he needed to rise early for his chance at the bathroom! Sorry Dad!

My Dad was a pretty smart man. I think he might have been an engineer had he had the opportunity to attend college. Necessity was the object of my father’s inventions. Tired of living without air conditioning, Dad decided to air condition our home. He designed and built the ductwork from scratch and installed the compressors by himself! He also designed, built and installed our garage door opener. He would get a little frustrated when asked, “Are you sure this is going to work?”

Genealogists search court records for deeds and property transfers. Acquiring deeds from Cook County is on my “2012 To Do List.” Lucky me, I have my parent's original Warranty Deed from the purchase of their home at 1625 Lincoln Avenue. That warranty deed informs me that in 1957 my parents made a down payment of $10.00 to Mr. and Mrs. Leclair! Times have changed!

 

On the fun side . . . Please check out the website, http://www.dearphotograph.com.  Dear Photograph offers the opportunity to travel in time in a most fun and modern way! Here is the photograph I am going to submit. I wonder if they will publish it?

Dear Photograph, My childhood home revisited Thanksgiving 2011.

Treasures From The Dollen Past

We call ourselves the Dollen Girls. We are seven strong and growing. Only two have had the good fortune of actually growing up with the last name of Dollen. I am a Meyer. We have Lemkes in this little group too. My cousin, Sharon, is a Small!

Whatever our maiden names, we all descend from a long line of Dollen farmers. Sharon is in the unique position as she descends from a long line of family historians as well. Her Grandmother Eva and Aunt Evalyn both had a keen sense of family history. Not only did they save family treasures, they took notes about each item! Eva and Evalyn seemed to know that those yet to come would be interested in their lives.

Upon entering Sharon’s home, she directed me to hang my coat on the coat rack. As I hung up my coat, she gently informed me that this rack was our Great, Great Grandmother Emma Dollen’s coat rack. Amazed, I ran my hand over the wood. I wonder if Sharon delighted in watching each of our facial expressions when she spoke those words. Was this a coat rack used for company? Did their children or grandchildren actually hang their coats on this rack? It does not look large enough for so many coats.

Great, Great Grandmother Emma Dollen's Coat Rack. Coats were removed to see her coat rack!

We lunched in Sharon’s kitchen. Sitting around the table she pointed out different family treasures. Her Grandmother Eva’s coffee grinder hung on the wall with coffee beans inside ready for use. This was a special place.

During lunch I learned of her life on the farm. Their cozy home is heated by a wood burning furnace. Her husband, Gil, chops and splits the wood himself. Their apple trees provide fresh apple cider that is made using their apple press. As I drank my warm cider, small birds perched by her kitchen window then flit away!

 

Dishes piled in the sink and we offered to help. But there would be no dishwashing for us and there would be no dishwasher for Sharon! This “city mouse” knew she was learning about a different way of life. It is simpler way of life that the Dollens once knew. 

My cousin, Elaine, possesses those Dollen genes too. Living in a small town, she dreams of a farm. Elaine has a green thumb and grows the most spectacular vegetables. In fact, she even shares farm fresh eggs with this “city mouse.” 

After lunch, we move to the dining room and get down to business . . . Dollen business! As we sit down, Sharon let’s us in on another little secret: the table we sit around is Emma Dollen’s dining table complete with 14 leaves! It is a table built to fit her large family of eleven children. Family gatherings must have been an event! My imagination wanders. My Great grandfather, William most likely sat at this table. I wonder if my grandfather sat there as well. Was Emma a good cook? What did she serve? I cannot believe that I am at my Great, Great Grandmother’s dining table!

This is what I love about genealogy. It has taken me places and shown me things I never could have imagined!

I Dedicate My First Post to My Grandmother

Olga Bertha Louise Meyer nee Schumann is my paternal grandmother and mentor. She meticulously, though not always accurately, recorded family milestones in her Bible. She believed in those four words: Who, What, When and Where!

She included information about her children, her husband and in-laws, parents, grandparents, siblings and their spouses. Let’s not forget her nieces, nephews, grandchildren, their spouses and of course her great grandchildren. Photographs, cards/notes and a poppy from Flanders Field are just few of the treasures that reside in her Bible. She gave me a gift. Her Bible is my reference book and I treasure it.

Bibles are great resources. Thank you to those who felt the need to record the details of family life and to those who feel the need today. Next week I am off to meet with my second cousins on my Mother’s side. I am really looking forward to this gathering. My cousin, Sharon, is bringing our Great-great Grandfather’s Bible! I can’t wait!