Thursday, December 13, 2012

Advent Calendar of Christmas Memoires: Holiday Travel


For a brief period of time of about five years, my family meaning my husband and children traveled to Montana on Christmas vacation. We left on December 26th for four of those five years.

One fateful year we decided to leave on Christmas morning. I had the day perfectly planned. We had the first flight out of Chicago’s O’Hare Airport. I arranged for a three-hour layover time in Salt Lake City, Utah. Our connecting flight would get us to Montana in plenty of time for a lovely Christmas dinner with dear friends. Dinner reservations had been made at Bucks T-4 Ranch in Big Sky, Montana at a table in front of their roaring fireplace. It was a perfect plan.

We arrived at O’Hare Airport early that Christmas morning and waited eagerly for our flight to depart on time. It was the first flight of the day! What could possibly detain it? As things go, the pilot was late, very late. We suspect he was enjoying Christmas morning with his family leaving a planeload of people sitting in the airport for hours and hours. His tardiness resulted in our very late arrival in Salt Lake City.

To rub "salt" in our wounds, so to speak, we missed our connecting flight. Salt Lake City Airport was in chaos. You know you are in trouble when the “Red Coats” appear. I can best describe these gentlemen as crisis managers! Yes, they had a flight for us in first class the next day. We spent Christmas Day in the Salt Lake City airport with children crying and exclaiming that this was their worst Christmas ever!

That cozy dinner with friends in front of roaring fire never occurred. Christmas dinner that year consisted of a soup in a bread bowl and Cinnabons. Those sweet, cinnamon buns didn’t ease my children’s pain.

We pleaded our case and eventually boarded a flight to Montana at about 11:30 that evening. Our weary family eventually arrived at our final destination in the wee hours of December 26th.

It is a Christmas we will always remember.

Sunday, December 2, 2012

Advent Calendar of Christmas Memories: Holiday Foods




Christmas Cookies and Holiday Hearts,
That’s The Way the Holiday Starts!

My children sang this song in their Holiday programs at school and it has remained stuck in my mind ever since. Christmas cookie baking was an annual event in our home that ultimately led to sugar and flour scattered throughout the kitchen. This Christmas ritual repeats itself through the generations and is the one holiday food constant.

Mom was particularly good with the cookie press. She loved to bake peanut butter Scottie dogs, wreaths, trees and ribbons. My husband’s Aunt Flo had a talent for making butter rounds decorated with sprinkles. They were delicate and baked to perfection.

It takes a talent to bake cookies to perfection. My skills are far from perfect for a variety of reasons; lack of patience being one reason. That cookie press that Mom and Auntie Flo mastered with such skill is a source of frustration for me. Each year my husband must come to the rescue and magically press those cookies on my behalf!


The Dreaded Cookie Press: Will I ever master this beast?

Saturday, December 1, 2012

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!
 


Thursday, November 29, 2012

All I Want for Christmas . . .


Thoughts Silas W. Cobb and Sarah Cobb nee Hawks remain in my mind. Following the gift of the beautiful photograph of my fourth great-grandmother’s gravestone, I received yet another surprise

About a year ago, Mary Murphy of Vermont made contact regarding Sarah Cobb nee Hawks. Mary is the Commissioner of Cemeteries in Washington County, Vermont and the discoverer Sarah Cobb’s gravestone. Mary recently came across information about Silas W. Cobb and his family and offered to forward the information.

She tells me that Silas W. Cobb was born 15 October 1776! Silas W. Cobb’s children report both parents’ birthplaces as Massachusetts. Silas was interested in Ethan Allen and the Green Mountain Boys. I have a hunch that his father was a Patriot.

The Dooley research is on hold waiting for requested information to arrive. The search is on for the Hawks Family line and I am desperately seeking Sarah.

Can you guess what my Christmas wish is?


Wednesday, November 21, 2012

A Genealogical Thanksgiving


 I have so much to celebrate this Thanksgiving. November 6, 2012, brought my one-year blog anniversary. I let it pass without acknowledgement, however, I was mindful of the milestone. Throughout the first year, I often wondered would I make it a year. To date I have published 136 posts with 37 followers and 8,742 page views with plenty of stories yet to tell.

The best part of genealogy is the connections I make through this hobby of mine. As my anniversary drew near, I received an email from my third cousin, Lynda Henderson. She happens to live near my son in the Pacific Northwest. We planned on meeting this summer, but a flat tire spoiled our plans. We will meet one day.

On November 3rd, Lynda shared a photo of our mutual fourth great grandmother, Sarah Cobb nee Hawks. Sarah passed away in Vermont following the birth of her fifth child, Mary Ann Cobb. Little Mary Ann passed 5 December 1814 and Sarah passed in 3 January 1815. This must have been difficult times for the New England Cobb family.

The Cobb and Hawks families are of interest to me for they are my only familial connection to the American Revolution. I have searched for Silas and Sarah Cobbs parents, but have not yet located them. I will find them one day.

So here are my Great, Great, Great, Great Grandparents’ gravestones. Silas W. Cobb rests in the Northfield Oakwood Cemetery located in Northbrook, Illinois. Sarah Cobb’s final resting place is in Cobb Cemetery of Moretown, Vermont.

 
My Great, Great, Great, Great Grandfather born 15 October 1776

My Great, Great, Great, Great Grandmother: Sarah Cobb nee Hawks

Sunday, November 18, 2012

Writer’s Group


My local genealogical society has a very active writer’s group. In fact they have two writer’s groups. I plan on attending the morning group. The members are very nice and quite accomplished in their writing. Each member has a unique vision that they apply to their story telling.

I wish to write a proof summary of my Dooley research. It is a dry type of writing giving factual information to the reader and I am trying to find a way to tell the Dooley Family story in an interesting and organized fashion. It is not an easy task. Tomorrow morning I will read my summary and request their help. 

The following is my first attempt at a proof summary. Please bare with me as I refine my writing skills. Any and all suggestions will be greatly appreciated.

Thank you,

 
Linda



 
The Dooley Family of Chicago, Illinois

David Francis Dooley requested help in locating the origin of his Dooley ancestors.
Uncle Dave has made numerous visits to his ancestral homeland in search of his Dooley heritage He wishes to meet blood relations on his trip to Ireland in the summer of 2013 but then again, he states, if their name is Dooley we must be related somehow.

As Uncle Dave and I began this journey, our conversations immediately became confusing for the Dooley family name their sons one of three names: David, Stephen or William. To reduce confusion, each male child needs a description as not to confuse one David, Stephen or William from another. For example: Uncle David Francis Dooley is known in the family as “Red.”

The story of Dooley family of Chicago begins with William, the Irish immigrant, whom I label as the Dooley family patriarch.  William Dooley was most likely born between the years of 1829-1835 with a possible birthplace of Cork, Ireland.

The Great Hunger

Based on William’s possible birthdates, this Dooley Family Patriarch was coming of age during The Great Hunger. William may have been 10 to 16 years old during the devastating famine. How did William’s family fare during this terrible period of Irish history? We have yet to know their fate.

The Great Hunger or The Irish Famine had a devastating effect of the poor peasants of Ireland. Blight struck Irish potato crops between 1845-1852 resulting in massive starvation and death. The death counts were so high; victims were buried in mass graves. Yet the poor Irish peasants continued their struggle for survival and many chose to leave Ireland and seek a better life in America.

William Dooley was one of many poor, hungry Irish peasants who sought a better life in America. William embraced his new home by becoming an U.S. citizen filing his naturalization papers in March 1856. William may have made his journey to America alone arriving sometime before 1851. This date is based on a five-year residency requirement for naturalization.

Two possible immigration records have been located for a William Dooley arriving in New York. While both records match name and age range, the ship records lack additional evidence to make a definitive decision.

7 July 1848 SS Margaret Age 19 Laborer
25 October 1851 SS Robert Kelly Age 17 Servant



Regardless of his date and point of entry, William made his arrival in Chicago as early as 1856 when he submitted his naturalization papers in Cook County, Illinois. William was embracing his new country.

How or why William settled in Chicago is unknown. However, Chicago was home to a large Irish-born population. William’s native tongue was English giving him an advantage over other non-English speaking immigrant groups.

The Irish immigrants of Chicago worked as laborers. Many earlier immigrants worked on the Erie Canal and in Chicago the ? canal. Perhaps they sent word home to Ireland about plentiful work.

William Dooley and his fellow Irish Catholics faced discrimination due to their poverty and religious faith. The Irish of Chicago lived near their Catholic parishes as life in Chicago centered around the church. The spirit of community brought the feeling of Ireland to Chicago. The faithful Irish built numerous churches with Old St. Pat’s Church as their mother church.

Each St. Patrick’s Day, the Irish in Chicago gathered at Old St. Pat’s for mass. Following mass, Irish residents enjoyed a St. Patrick’s Day parade ……

At some point William Dooley met and married Ellen Hart who was born November 1842 in Cork, Ireland. Ellen arrived in The United States in 1854 at the age of eleven.  Her point of entry into the U.S. has not been determined as her immigration records have not yet been located. However, she also made her way to Chicago.

Together, William and Ellen raised a family of four sons. These four Dooley sons are the first generation Americans:

Stephen Clement Dooley, b. December 1864
William Dooley, b. October 1866
Michael Dooley, b. 1869 d. before 1870
David Francis Dooley, b. 1872

The Great Chicago Fire

Having survived The Great Hunger of Ireland and the passage to America, William and Ellen Dooley were mostly likely strong, resilient people.  God had prepared them for yet another tragedy.

In 1870 William and Ellen Dooley lived at 29 East Hinsdale in the City of Chicago.
Their home was in the path of the Great Chicago Fire. Chicago residents fled for their lives. William, Ellen, Stephen and little William fled to safety. Perhaps they sought refuge in Lake Michigan. Perhaps they followed the lake north to Lincoln Park. We don’t know how this little family survived but they did. The year 1872 found William and family living on Henry Street.







Sunday, November 11, 2012

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