12 Ancestors in 12 Months, My Family Tree, Paternal Side

Month #8: Helper

Today I am going to share with you my helper in my genealogy search. She was my first cousin once removed who I only think I ever met in person once when I was in second grade and long before I ever became enchanted with my family history. At that time, I was a girl who loved the Muppets and I showed her a really cool science experiment (that I sometimes still do to this day to be honest). In November 1980 when I had my tonsils taken out Darlene Reese Prosser got me “The Muppet Book” for me to peruse while recuperating. I did and then some. I’m fairly certain that book is up in my attic struggling to keep it together as the binding came completely apart. But I loved that book as it had so many of my favorite sketches in type and colored photos for me to remember (I was always fond of Veterinarians Hospital and Pigs in Space).

But it was Darlene I turned to when I was in college and began a slight interest in working on my family history. She had sent me copies of family group sheets she had on our shared ancestors of the Blair’s to help me get started. I held onto that envelope of merchandise and scanned them into my own records that I have a few years ago (she also sent me a hat of my dad’s she had taken and finally returned to him, it’s still in the same envelope, she apparently took said hat when they were kids. Darlene was 5 years older than my dad and they were both born in Gary, Indiana.

It was also Darlene I have turned to off and on from 2016-2020 while I became obsessed with researching my family tree. She had begun working on our tree back in the 1980’s when everything was done with letters or in person, talking to her was always the perfect food for thought for my own research as we would discuss people and it would really click sometimes and send me on a new adventure of trying to find Andrew and Suzanna (yes, she was stuck there, too). When her daughter sent me the gedcom of Darlene’s research I was so excited and was amazed we had almost all the same information at least people-wise.

But today I am going to share with you the story of what I know of Darlene Reese Prosser, my genealogy helper, who I wish was still here to guide me.

Darlene Reese

Darlene Reese was born 9 May 1937 at St. Mary’s Mercy Hospital in Gary, Lake, Indiana to Charles Randall Reese and Vada Blair (Vada was the oldest sister of my grandfather, Leroy Blair) at 2:07 am.

Copy of Darlene Reese’s birth certificate found on Ancestry.com

Darlene was the youngest child of her parents, following the birth of her older brother, Charles Blair Reese (more commonly known as Buddy) in 1929.

As my Grandma’s caption states, Darlene (baby) and her older brother, Buddy in 1937 (from the personal collection of Anna Maria Morgart Blair)

In the 1940 census, the Reese family was still living in Gary, Indiana where Charles was a mechanic and Vada a housewife.

Copy of the 1940 Census found at Ancestry.com, they are the first family listed at the top of the page
Darlene Reese with her dad, Charles Reese. Photo from the Anna Maria Morgart Blair private collection

I find it interesting that one of the photos my Grandma had of Darlene was from 1943 and I liked it so much that I put it in the header of my blog. I think she is so cute and just stands out amongst all the faces in my collage.

Darlene Reese in 1943 from the photo collection of Anna Maria Morgart Blair

At some point in time between 1940 and 1950, Charles, Vada, and Darlene moved to Arizona where they ran a hotel on Buckeye Road in Phoenix. I asked Darlene’s daughter if she knew why they left Indiana and moved to Arizona and her reply was “Charles got disgusted with it raining for X days straight in Indiana and decided to move west. They intended to go to California but stopped in Phoenix and stayed. Maybe he figured it would never rain in a desert as opposed to living on the West coast”.

Her daughter also elaborated, “They gave her (Darlene) total freedom to be a kid. This included riding the bus alone to go downtown to movie theaters when she was young. She’d sit behind the driver, so no weirdo would bother her. If they followed her, she’d cross the street. If they were in the theater she’d move. I swear she must have had a guardian angel”.

From the Anna Maria Morgart Blair photo collection

More from her daughter: “Throughout her life, she got her way most of the time. She’d done exactly as she wished as a child, and she carried on doing exactly that until the end of her life. She also tried to make sure those she loved also got their way.

She was endlessly loving, but she also had a temper – and she let you know when you made her mad. She had no problem putting the words together to say exactly what you’d done wrong, what she thought of it, and why you should never so much as think about doing it again in the future”.

Darlene Reese circa 1953 (from the Anna Maria Morgart Blair photo collection)

Meeting Robert Lee Prosser

One of the specific questions I’d asked her daughter was how her parents met, as Darlene got married to Robert Lee Prosser on 18 March 1956. “My parents both went to West High in Phoenix. He was a senior when she was a freshman, and she knew of him only because: 1) he played drums for the band at the school dances; 2) he was cute. The year after he graduated, he broke up with his girlfriend (a redhead, as my mother liked to point out) and then asked a mutual friend if he know of any “petite girls”. The friend thought of my mother because she was 5’2″ and maybe weighed 100 pounds.

The friend introduced the graduate to the sophomore, and that was that. They dated until she graduated and for months after that. My father spent a lot of time at my mother’s house, sleeping on their sofa, until my grandfather told her to marry the guy because he wanted his sofa back”.

Darlene’s daughter was not sure when they got engaged, “but I think it was after she’d graduated. She often went to Pennsylvania to her cousins in the summers. She told me she didn’t want to come back the last year she went because she knew she’d get married.

They never set a date for the wedding, Mom was still living at home and Dad at his mother’s when they were out on a double date one evening, and the other couple asked when Bob and Darlene were getting married. No time like the present? So, Mom went home to get a dress and told her mother she was getting married. My grandmother didn’t believe her. They went to a justice of the peace (no idea how they reached him that night) and were married by him. I don’t know whether it was at his home or at a city hall. Don’t know where they went afterward.

They rented an apartment but a few weeks later Dad got drafted into the army. Spent 2 years away, most of it stationed in France. Mom said they likely would have gotten a divorce if he hadn’t been drafted because she wasn’t mature enough to be married. She moved back home and could have gone to France with him after his basic training was done but she refused. She got a job at AT&T tracking payments/accounting and said she spent her salary on phone calls from France.”

Robert Prosser & Darlene Reese around Christmas 1957-58 (from Anna Maria Morgart Blair photo collection

And Baby Makes 3

“From the time she was a teenager, she wanted a daughter, and she wanted to name her what she named me. When she was expecting me, her doctor told her she was having a boy (no idea how he knew). She cried for days.” Their daughter was born in December 1959.

I came on schedule, and she had me on a rainy Monday (rare for Phoenix) at 4:58 am.
She didn’t have labor pains until the final stage – go figure. She walked the hospital
corridors out of impatience, to move things along. Which likely didn’t work.

Dad couldn’t deny I was his: I had a cowlick in the same place and looked like he had as a baby. Mom had thick black hair. Dad had curly auburn hair. So did I when I was born. Then it fell out and came in blond. She never held it against me. She just made me grow it long and loved playing with it when I was a child and permed it for me when I was a teenager because it was dead straight.

Vada Blair, Charles Reese, and their granddaughter September 1960 (from the photo collection of Anna Maria Morgart Blair)

Her Daughter’s Memories

I was fortunate enough to get 7 pages of memories from Darlene’s daughter with stories about her mother. I’m including everything for the simple fact that I enjoyed each and every word.

“I gave her a strawberry cake once, and she told me her mother nicknamed her Strawberry because she looked like one when she was born.

She always had a short-haired black cat while I was growing up because she loved them, though she loved all cats, black was the one that most fascinated her. Dad and she had a running joke that she was a witch because of this. She collected black cats throughout her life – knick-knacks, elegant Egyptian-like statues that book-ended our living room window, pictures, books. People would give them to her, and she’d prowl thrift stores for them.

She loved second-hand stores, junk stores, as she called them. Goodwill, Salvation Army, St Vincent de Paul’s, any used store. Their prices were terribly cheap in those years, and she bought a lot of clothing, books, decorative items for every room, Christmas and birthday presents for everyone. She traveled a lot for years with my Dad (who sold John Deere industrial machinery, and whose territory was all of Arizona north of Phoenix) and always had to check out those stores.

We all had a lot of used clothes. Her reasoning was once a new piece of clothing was washed, it was used, so no shame in wearing used.

She sewed a lot of clothes for me while I was in high school. My inseam is 33”, so it was impossible to buy pants long enough for me, so she’d make them. Occasionally she’d find used pants that were long enough or buy men’s Levis on sale from western-wear stores, then take in the waist.

I grew up in the 70s, when maxi-dresses were popular, and wore them to church and
dances. She’d take me to a fabric store and have me choose wedding-dress patterns I
liked. She’d then have me choose the fabric and would make me a dress.

She let me be a kid because she’d gotten to be a kid. She was having me hang my Christmas stocking at the fireplace, and giving me Easter baskets, well into my 20s. I didn’t say a word; I knew I had it good.

There was a bath every Saturday night. Afterward, she’d roll up my wet hair on fat pink rubber rollers and make me sleep in them so I’d have curled hair for church. Dressed me in pretty dresses with scratchy net slips, and colored leotards that never fit right because my legs were too long. Put me in a red coat, patent-leather shoes, scratchy hats, and made me carry a muff! One of her favorite child movie stars was Margaret O’Brien. I wasn’t a Shirley Temple, so I think Mom turned to Margaret for inspiration.

She never forgot anything that happened, or anything someone told her. Woe betide you if you lied; she couldn’t stand being lied to or being betrayed. The flip side to this was that if she knew you liked something – a book, a movie, a performer, whatever the thing was – she’d keep an eye out for it/them in her travels and get it for you. All you had to do was mention it, and at Christmas or birthday or out of the blue, she’d present it to you. She loved hunting for treasures that way, and she always thought of others – that they’d like, what would make them happy.

Throughout her life, she got her way most of the time. She’d done exactly as she wished as a child, and she carried on doing exactly that until the end of her life. She also tried to make sure those she loved also got their way.

She was endlessly loving, but she also had a temper – and she let you know when you made her mad. She had no problem putting the words together to say exactly what you’d done wrong, what she thought of it, and why you should never so much as think about doing it again in the future.

When I was four or five, and she was on the phone, I took a bottle of blue India ink out of her secretary and carried it around the corner, into the living room. I then opened it on the coffee table and promptly spilled it on myself…and on the carpet. Not on a rug, on the CARPET. She was furious – not only with me for touching her things, but also for herself for being on the phone. She covered up the stain (no getting that out) with a rug and couldn’t afford to replace the living-room carpet for the next five years or so. She never stopped mentioning to anyone who’d listen how I’d ruined her carpet. She was still mentioning it the year she passed away.

She had used a fountain pen while taking shorthand in high school, and she used the pen while keeping a diary for years – hence the reason she had India ink. When I was 12, she gave me a Sheaffer school fountain pen which took ink cartridges or bottled ink. This started my lifelong interest in fountain pens, so she got her revenge. I also learned my lesson: I’ve never spilled another bottle of ink on any surface (knock wood).

When I was 11, Kurt Weinsinger moved to Flagstaff and went to our church. He was a music professor at Northern Arizona University who also directed our church choir. Through his influence, Mom began singing the opera / musical theatre choir at NAU, and I got to watch. She sang in Carmen, Die Fledermaus, Faust, and Camelot. I fell in love with Camelot / King Arthur, she had the Broadway soundtrack, and I decided I wanted to learn to sing like Julie Andrews. I didn’t tell her. Whenever I was home alone, I snuck-sang with her musical LPs, and told Weinsinger I wanted to sing. The first time she knew of it, I got up in church to do a solo, and she thought, “Where did that come from?” I wasn’t shy, I was introverted, but no one understood that, then. I was also terrified of piano recitals yet had no problem singing in public.

She encouraged me to keep singing. In addition to piano lessons, she supported me to the point I was able to sing in the top high-school choir, madrigals, perform in drama, and make it to regional and state choir. The audition for the state choir took place at West High – which I think was then a community college and no longer a high school. Years later, I also ended up singing with the same musical-theater director she’d had for Camelot and the operas. And Weinsinger gave me voice lessons for years at NAU. So that’s what you get for dragging your kid to The Sound of Music, Camelot, Funny Girl, and the like. She was always too shy to do anything in public, whether it was teaching Sunday School or singing a solo, but she seemed to be proud of what I was doing. No matter what I became interested in, she supported it. Except for wanting a horse. She and Dad didn’t want me getting hurt, so there was never a horse in my life.

When I was ten or so, she decided she wanted to take a trip back east to visit relatives and do genealogical research. This was pre-internet, so any seeking of birth/death certificates, civil records, etc. had to be done in person or through the mail. She and Dad owned a 1965 Chevy truck with a camper shell and foam-rubber mattresses in the back. The plan was for Mom, Grandma, and me to stay in KOAs along the way for this 6000+ round trip. Dad later said he expected her to turn around after 200 miles or so and come back home. Didn’t happen.

Did I mention she could be stubborn? (Before I forget to tell you, her method of dealing with anything she didn’t want to entertain or discuss was to meet your query or comment with silence. She could ignore things into oblivion.)

I spent the trip reading books in the back, and I have sporadic memories of the entire trip. But it does involve memories of your grandparents because it was the first of two times I visited them in Akron and went to the farm. One of the trips was the year a PBS special on Leonardo da Vinci was airing, and it was important to me that I saw it every week we were on the road. Your grandfather was amused I was interested in da Vinci.

I didn’t meet your Dad because he was in the military at the time, but I slept in his bedroom. He had a ticking alarm clock that I put under the bed and covered up because the ticking bothered me.”

She went into more details about my grandfather that I did cut just because this is about her mom, not Pappy. But she did say my Grandma had great pies, and she did.

“I remember my mother was given an antique round table in Pennsylvania on that trip. Into the back of the camper it went, and we climbed over its top and pedestal for the rest of the trip. I also remember visiting an old, old graveyard whose headstones were weathered to the point of being unreadable – at least to me. One had even been taken over by a tree growing next to it. Maybe Mom told you about this trip.

She loved antiques. My grandfather and she would go to auctions, and she’d buy boxes full of piano sheet music for cheap at the last auctions of the day, when most everyone else would have gone home. No one wanted 19th-century furniture in the 50s. Grandpa had a store – mainly a shed and a yard on Buckeye Road – where he’d sell appliances and furniture. (This was after giving up on the motel).

Photo of Vada & Charles home/shop, you can see where the hotel was as well (from the Anna Maria Morgart Blair photo collection)

Mom had her pick of the antiques. Among other things, she chose an upright piano (that was later taken to Flagstaff, and I learned on it), a secretary, a cedar chest, a tapestry featuring Spanish galleons in port, two brass incense burners, and an assortment of big and small tables (but not the kind you eat on).

She didn’t like domestic chores or cooking. She wanted her freedom, to explore her corner of the world and see what there was to see. She loved Christmas and would take far too long traipsing through the woods in search of the perfect tree for Dad to cut… to the point of exasperating him. She’d wander off – not only in the woods (after he’d told her not to), but in Costco as well, leaving my Dad and me to fulfill the shopping list and wait for her in the commissary section. She’d get her own goodies…she did love a good treasure hunt, after all.

She was a beautiful woman, inside and out, who loved with fierce loyalty, compassion, and caring. I couldn’t have asked for a better mother, or Dad for a better wife. He always commented that she took good care of him, and she did it for years. She took good care of her mother and me as well. She didn’t really let others take care of her, except for Dad. He’d get her a box of dark-chocolate nougats every Christmas. She loved those, and black licorice.

Bob Prosser and Darlene Reese 1959 (from Anna Maria Morgart Blair personal photo collection)

I remember taking her to see Ladyhawke. The theatre was empty except for a few other people. Matthew Broderick / Mouse’s lines made her laugh out loud.

She loved Barry Manilow long after he was a pop music icon and inherited the LPs of him that I’d collected in the 70s and lost interest in. She took me to one of his concerts because she liked him, but she also took me to one of Michael Crawford’s in the 90s because I liked him. My best friend loves Kermit / Jim Henson, and Mom got tickets to an exhibition on Henson in Phoenix more than a decade ago… and bought Jim Henson videos for her whenever Mom ran across them. My friend was also into dressage and Arabians and Anglo-Arabian horses, so Mom was always on the lookout for things she’d like.

I hope she’s off in the Afterworld exploring everything and anything that interests her, spending time with Weinsinger and other friends who have moved on. I hope she and Dad are travelling together, and that she’s getting to do all of the things she didn’t have time to do.

I miss hunting treasures in second-hand shops with her and talking with her for hours on the phone. I miss hearing her laugh, and her endless questions about my life. I miss her”.

Her Next Chapter

Darlene passed away on 6 March 2020 after having a fall. For a woman I had only met in person once when I was 7, her death really affected me. Until reading her daughter’s memories I learned I had more in common with her than even family history, I love Barry Manilow, too, and always get lost in stores because I’ll just stop to look at something and not care what whomever I’m with is doing. And I like to think she has met Andrew and Suzanna in the afterworld and is somehow trying to get me to next level up in our family tree. Or at least I can hope she is.

Rest in Peace, Darlene. You were one in a million and are missed.

12 Ancestors in 12 Months, Paternal Side

Month #6: Conflict

One of things I wish I could achieve in my genealogical journey would be to join a lineage society, specifically Daughters of the American Revolution (as I am a huge fan of the Revolutionary War). However, with this goal also lies one of my largest conflicts in my family history as I would like to join under my 5th-great-grandfather, Peter Morgart, simply because this is through my Grandma Blair’s (Anna Maria Morgart) family, as I had always had a special bond with her and my obsession with genealogy began as I was missing her back on 10 August 2016, and I signed up with FamilySearch and the rest is now history.

My conflict exists because both my Grandmother’s birth certificate and death certificate have the same incorrect name listed for her father. Instead of the correct name of Charles Jackson Morgart, A Jackson Morgart is listed instead.

Certificate of Birth for Anna Maria Morgart, obtained through the Pennsylvania State Archives
Death Certificate of Anna Maria (Morgart) Blair obtained at the Summit County Health Department

Now, in my dad’s defense, who was the informant on her death certificate, his paternal grandfather’s name was Andrew Jackson Blair, so I can relate to his boo-boo in his time of grief. But no one was more surprised than me when I ordered up my Grandmother’s birth certificate from the Pennsylvania Historic and Museum Commission back in January 2020 to find her dad’s name would once again be listed as A Jackson Morgart instead of Charles Jackson Morgart.

To cause me more grief is the fact that Charles Jackson Morgart committed suicide on 24 July 1917, and with my Grandmother being born on 2 April 1914, there is no census that has both listed on the same document as father and daughter. I’ve also never found an obituary or death notice in the newspaper to shed light on his death, so nothing that would state that he had a daughter named Anna Maria Morgart (or at least not yet).

I do have her marriage license that states her father’s name is Charles Jackson Morgart, but would that document be enough?

The above marriage certificate was found on FamilySearch as part of Indiana Marriages, 1811-2007

I suppose if I needed more evidence I could hope that the birth certificate for his older son, Charles Edward Morgart, which does have the correct name listed would work, and that I could hope that I have a DNA match with one of his descendants which could give me the argument I need to prove I am his great-granddaughter, and connect me to the rest of the lineage that would lead to Peter Morgart.

Has anyone out there in cyberspace had this sort of genealogical problem? How did you get around it? Is the marriage license enough?

Maternal Side, My Family Tree, Paternal Side

Who Did You Find in the 1950 Census?

Ever since the clock struck midnight on Friday, April 1 the genealogical world has gone crazy trying to find their ancestors in the newly released 1950 census. Were you prepared to know where you had to search for your loved ones? I was a last-minute person, looking up the enumeration district for my mom and giving my dad a call to find out what state he was living in when 1950 rolled around. You see this was the first census my parents are in so I will admit I was a little excited.

I contemplated staying up until midnight when it was released to the world, but I was so tired I knew I wouldn’t have been able to stay awake that long. So, I made sure I got up at my usual 6:11am (the time I normally get up to get ready when my kids are going to school, they happened to be on Spring Break last week, so I was able to sleep in an extra hour), got ready, ate early and made sure I had a good solid hour before having to head out the door to focus on the 1950 census.

My Mom

Of my parents, finding my mom was a little easier. I thought initially she and her parents were already living on North Main Street in Akron, Ohio but I was wrong. I am glad I took the time to look up their information in the City Directory to find them living in Cuyahoga Falls, which is where I myself was born and raised (and it’s literally a 2-minute drive in either direction from where I live presently). It made it even easier for me to find except I selected the wrong enumeration district. Where they lived on Second Street there were multiple choices. It was odd though, I never had paid attention that they lived there before and here I drove by where their house was every day when I took my kids to school, or when I was a member of the Natatorium a few years back. (It appears that it’s a vacant lot where the building once stood).

I found my Mom in the 1950 using the National Archives website in enumeration district 77-69 for Summit County, Ohio. They were of course on the very last page. Harold Fairhurst was the head of household.

On my mom’s side of the family, I found her parents, Harold Fairhurst, Alberta Lou Fairhurst, herself, Cynthia Anne Fairhurst, and her younger sister, Terry (Teri) Mildred Fairhurst.

My Dad

My dad was a little trickier. I had called him the night before to ask if he knew if they were in Ohio yet, or if they (he and his parents) were still living in Indiana. My dad would have been 7 in 1950 and apparently all of his schooling was here in Ohio, so that narrowed it down. However, when they first moved to Ohio, they didn’t live in Akron, they lived in the Village of Lakemore, which was near Akron. This is one of those places that I have heard of, but I am not sure if I have ever been there.

I threw “Lakemore” into the enumeration district page to see if anything came up, but it wasn’t helpful. Luckily Google exists. I searched Lakemore, Ohio and luckily it came up and I was able to discover the zip code for it.

I then went to the Ancestry.com and they had a tool you could throw in your zip code and such and it would provide the enumeration districts for the area. So, I put in 44250 and I was able to narrow my search to 77-114, 115, 116, or 117, which translates to about 100 total pages to scan.

I lucked out, they were halfway through 115, and not only did I find my dad and grandparents, but my grandfather’s brother was living right next door with two of their kids as well! So, the total family I found for my dad was his dad, Leroy Blair, his mom, Anna Maria Morgart, his uncle, Donald Blair, his aunt, Anna Smzrlich, and two of their children.

My grandfather, Leroy Blair, is about 4 people down and is the head of household. This can be found at the National Archives website.

Everybody Else

I’ll admit I have hundreds of people I am sure I need to look up and find in the 1950 census. My great-grandparents on all sides of my family would have all been alive and kicking still, but I’m more than happy to wait until I can search by name and save it that way. I figure if I come across someone else that I just need to find, I will, but I have time (and not fully understanding the layout of Pennsylvania towns, who knows how long it would take me to find them).

Did you enjoy the fun of finding your ancestors in the 1950 census? How many people did you find? Share in the comments below!

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks, Maternal Side, My Family Tree, Paternal Side

Week 51: Holidays

All my life my favorite holiday has been Christmas. My mom always preferred Thanksgiving because family would get together for simpler things: family and food, she felt with Christmas and Easter the gifts and candy were the reasons people got together. But it wasn’t just gifts that have made me love Christmas, it was the tree and all the decorations, baking cookies and that little bit of magic that all the very special ornaments and lights can bring.

As I have gone through the photographs that once belonged to my Grandma Blair (aka Anna Maria Morgart) and her mother, Margaret Dora Wise, I saw photographs of Christmases past. This delighted me to no end, as it made me feel that my love of Christmas was something that is in my soul, and that I have inherited from those who came before me.

Christmas 1953 – Margaret Dora Wise standing in front of her tree.
My Grandparents – Leroy Blair and Anna Maria Morgart in their home on Christmas Day, 1963 (You can see the photo of my dad as he was off in the Navy at this time).

But not on just my dad’s side of the family, oh no, my maternal grandmother, Alberta Lou Fleming, loved Christmas as well. I have so many photos between Christmas day and her yearly Christmas Eve parties when she returned from living in Florida.

Here is a photo from Christmas 1949 of Santa, my aunt, Terry (Teri) Mildred Fairhurst, and my mom, Cynthia Anne Fairhurst.
This one is from Christmas 1957 and has all my mom’s siblings. From left to right is Alberta Lou Fleming, Howard Fleming, Cynthia Anne Fairhurst (in blue), Mildred Laura Dunbar (in red), and the other blue-grey jumper is my aunt, Terry Mildred Fairhurst. The other three are still alive so I’ll respect their privacy.
This was either the late 80’s or early 90’s at a Cardinal Village home that my grandparents use to manage in Bedford, Ohio. My mom, Cynthia Anne Fairhurst, is seated to the left, her face partially covered by her hand), standing is my Grandma Metzger (aka Alberta Lou Fleming, and facing the tree in red is her husband, James Edward Metzger.

Though Christmas is my favorite, to me the holidays more or less begin on Thanksgiving and don’t really end until New Year’s Day. So many wonderful memories throughout the years and sometimes they all just flow together. If no other time family gets together, it’s a holiday. We get together with my husband’s family on Memorial Day and Labor Day each year. We changed it up and have gone to my cousin’s on the 4th of July (which is nice as it’s our shared uncle’s birthday, too).

All in all, holidays are just very special days, no matter how you celebrate them. It’s just extra special to share them with those you love.

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks, Maternal Side, My Family Tree, Paternal Side

Week 38: Fun & Games

Fun and games is the topic for this week’s writing challenge for Amy Johnson Crow’s 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks. I’ve been so busy and lately the prompts have gone more in depth than what I know about my relatives, so I’ll share what I know.

Anna Maria Morgart

My gosh I wish I didn’t have them so packed away as I would have dug out my Grandma’s porcelain dolls that are located in a box up in my attic. Her request when she was getting ready to pass was that I would get them as she knows I am the pack rat she is and I would take care of them. Knowing the dolls are over 100 years old has them wrapped up and tucked away in the space but my goal is to display them when I have the space up there to do them justice (and then I’ll add a photo to this post). My Grandma loved her dolls and took excellent care of them.

My Daddy

My dad’s big hobby growing up was reading. He read every chance he could, so much so that he often claims it was the reason that he spent many summers attending classes to make up for the assignments he didn’t do throughout the normal school year.

He also claims that he must have liked summer school as he may have changed his habits if he truly hated it.

When I called and asked him what his favorite book was he said he didn’t really have one from back then. His favorite books were history books that were 156 pages long published by Random House. The books featured stories about Guadalcanal, the Revolutionary War and Daniel Boone (to name a few). He said they were a good size, he normally read them in about a day, while he was in school.

My dad is pretty sure this was the first book he read. I found this at Thriftbooks.com

I know I have inherited my dad’s love of reading (however I read at home or during Study Hall). He still loves to read and is finishing up a trilogy on World War 2 that I purchased for him for Christmas, his Birthday and Father’s Day.

My Mommy

I can honestly say I don’t know what all my mom did for hobbies. She wasn’t a reader, that is for sure. I always remember her telling me stories of how the Gorge was her playground/ The Gorge is part of the Summit County MetroParks that people hike, ice skate, picnic, and fish at each year.

For example the photo of the pipe she claims she walked across. I find this hard to believe as she was afraid of heights. Like majorly afraid of heights. But maybe she was more daring as a kid/teenager.

The above photos were all taken by me – the top is looking down on the Falls that is about to be taken out and the originals restored. The rock formation is Mary Campbell Cave where Indians had apparently abducted a girl and that is where they held her, and lastly is the field where in the winter the skating rink is located. Weather hasn’t really allowed for any ice skating the last few years, but I know my mom and her siblings had wonderful memories there.

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks, My Family Tree, Paternal Side

Week 26: Conflict

When it came to finding conflict in my tree, as that is the theme for this week’s 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks, one of my biggest puzzles is how George Mullen is related to my to my 2nd-great-grandmother, Anna Maria Leighty.

Supposedly George is Anna Maria’s son, but I don’t have any concrete proof that he is her son. I will confess I do have him listed in my family tree software as her son, only because of the below note on the picture of Anna Maria Leighty and her husband, Jonas Wise that my first cousin once removed, Hope, found left behind at a Wise Family Reunion in the 1990’s.

My great-great-grandparents, Anna Maria Leighty and Jonas Wise (shadow in my photo is my husband)

The note states:

Jonas Wise 1856-1913 Passed away at age 57 and was stone deaf

Anna Maria Leighty Wise 1849-1933 84 years of age, 15 children only 5 lived

George, Henry, Riley, Mary Ann, Maggie

Even the note is incorrect, Anna Maria first shows up on a census in 1860 because she was born in 1851. Most documents support Jonas being born in 1855. Their death years are both correct.

When you put all the pieces of the puzzle together, the only other piece of information that helps me think for a moment that he was her son is that she was living with him and is listed as his mother in the 1920 census (though i know you can’t always go by what the census says).

Within the red box on this 1920 Census, you can see George Mullen listed as the head of household, and on the bottom line is Maria Wise, Mother.

George Mullen was also supposedly born in 1874 but he is not living with Anna Maria Leighty in the 1880 census. He is listed with his grandmother (Anna Maria’s mother) Mary Ellen (Adams) Mullen and her 2 sons (who are younger than Anna Maria), William and Michael Mullen in Carbon, Huntingdon County, Pennsylvania. George is also listed at this time with the last name of McCre. I do realize he may have been visiting, but I don’t have any record of his living with his mother.

On this 1880 Census, in the red box you can see where my 3rd-Great-Grandmother is listed as the head of household with her sons, Michael & William Mullen, and then her grandson, George McCre.

In the 1880 Census, Anna Maria Leighty is married to Jonas Wise and they were living in Coaldale in 1880 with their oldest son, Henry (next door to my 2nd-great-granduncle, George Washington Blair – one of my infamous brick walls). Henry was born in 1876.

The 1880 Census of Coaldale, Bedford County, where Jonas Wise and Anna Maria Leighty were living with their oldest son, Henry (see above my Blair relatives, George Washington Blair, and his family)

Now I did know one of George Mullen’s children, his daughter, Anna Mary, who my grandmother did consider a cousin, but I was little and didn’t think to ask questions. I know Anna Mary died in the early 1980’s and I always thought it a bit peculiar that she carried a doll with her everywhere. I now know she probably had dementia or Alzheimer’s but I didn’t understand as a child of 6, why I couldn’t carry a doll everywhere too. The other thing I think of when I think of Anna Mary is that she was a huge supporter of Nixon, I had a bunch of jewelry supporting Nixon that I was given to play dress up with when at my Grandma’s, I’m sure it was thrown away when my Grandmother passed away, but it would have been an interesting keepsake.

Anna Mary Mullen

I never would have known until examining the 1920 census that George was Anna Maria’s son if it weren’t for Anna Maria Leighty’s page on Find a Grave. There are so many inconsistencies for whomever it was that wrote out the information that it makes my head hurt.

The person who wrote it was the grandchild (or possibly a great-grandchild) of William Mullen, who was the son of Mary Ellen Adams, half sibling of Anna Maria Leighty. They proceed to list all of George Mullen’s children, and as an after thought lists Anna Maria’s children with Jonas Wise (Henry, Riley, Mary Ann and Margaret). They list Margaret “Maggie” Wise as marrying a Blair, it was her daughter, Anna Maria Morgart who married a Blair. Anna Maria was also never a Mullen herself, her mother was, and I have a feeling since she more than likely raised George, he eventually took on her last name (which at that time was Mullen). Regardless, he was raised by the family and is one of us, I am just trying to figure out if he belongs where others have placed him.

So I’m sure you can understand my conflict.

Lastly, I share no DNA matches with anyone named Mullen. I find this interesting that George and his wife had 9 children and not one of their offspring has taken a DNA test. Or they have and they don’t match. I have even used the Thrulines tool on Ancestry and I have matches with descendants of Henry, Riley, Mary Ann and another for my own great-grandmother, Margaret Dora Wise. But not 1 match for George Mullen. After looking at my other DNA matches though, none of them have George listed as a child of Anna Maria Leighty, either.

Which once again leads to my conflict.

Working on this article I’ve learned that I have a lot to do on my Leighty family. I am missing many censuses for my great-great-grandmother (Anna Maria) and several of her siblings (Mary E., John Quincy, Joseph, George, Uriah, and Sidney). Joseph married an Ellen McCray, could this be a relation to the McCray that is supposedly the father of George?

I also think I am going to try to reach out to anyone who may appear to be a descendant, or at least someone who has researched George Mullen and his family to see if any of them have tested their DNA to see if there is a match. I know it may just be grasping at straws but this may give me insight on who George’s parents are, and confirm if it is my great-great-grandmother.

To be continued….

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks, My Family Tree, Paternal Side

Week 24: Father’s Day

My dad has always been a low-key kind of guy who prefers books to most people (this is not that he doesn’t like people, he just loves to read!). So with this week’s theme being Father’s Day and me not knowing a whole lot about my Pappy (aka Leroy Blair, my dad’s dad) I took a moment before the day began today to ask my dad some questions about his dad.

A little background on him. Charley Wilmer Blair was born 13 February 1912 in Todd Township, Huntingdon County, Pennsylvania to Andrew Jackson Blair and Bertha Childers. He was their oldest living son. I’m not sure how long he had the name of Charley Wilmer before his mother decided she liked Leroy better, but this was the name he went by the rest of his life (I always think it’s funny she just decided she liked something better).

Charley Wilmer Blair, 1912

Favorite Memory

My dad didn’t really have one particular favorite memory of his dad, but was always amazed how quickly he could make up a meal. They would often go for a drive in nature and his dad would stop the car and pull out the Coleman stove and a pressure cooker and could have a meal made up in moments.

So funny that he had this memory because when I was scanning my grandmother’s photos, she had noted on the back of a photo of how they had stopped and Leroy had made a wonderful beef stew in the pressure cooker.

My favorite memory my dad had told me was how Pappy went to my dad’s school one day and excused him from class and decided to drive across the country to Arizona with him. What a trip that had to have been for the two (his older sister Vada lived in Arizona with her husband Charles and daughter, Darlene).

Not sure if this is the trip he took with my dad, but this is my grandfather, Leroy Blair on the truck and Charles Reese touching the cactus in February 1954

What Leroy Was Like

My dad has always described his dad as being a fairly simple man. They would go fishing but it was more of it being a quiet hobby because he (Leroy) never caught any fish. This is something that my dad must have inherited as he doesn’t catch fish very often either (luckily I am able to catch a fish but just about always throw them back).

My dad told me in the past that Leroy was also an excellent hunter. I had actually asked him about this because I know his (Leroy’s) brother Donald did. It surprised me to hear this as my grandparents house was never filled with the heads and other trophy animals that his younger brother’s house had. My dad then went on to tell me that once my grandfather was able to provide for his family and buy meat at the grocery store, he no longer went out and hunted for food.

I do know that he liked farming. My grandfather had a farm in southern Ohio and oddly enough where his potato fields were was the same spot that I always wanted to build an A-frame home. The field is surrounded by apple trees and the smell is so wonderful when they are in bloom. And it’s nice and quiet. My dad was always the buzz kill because he always made sure to tell me it would cost a million dollars just to build the driveway.

How I Wish I Had Gotten to Know Him

Of all my relatives I wish I had gotten a chance to speak to, my Pappy is at the top of the list. I wish I could have known him, as my Grandma Blair always said I was just as stubborn as he was, and that I had inherited his odd shaped feet.

I know he (Leroy) wasn’t always fond of my mom but even she was always upset that I never had a chance to know him. He always wanted to go in and see me when he visited, it didn’t matter that my mom had just put me down, I was always miraculously awake when he came out to the kitchen asking if he could hold me. “The baby’s awake” he would say.

I often wonder if he would have been the strong, silent type with me as he was with my dad. Or would have been a little more forthcoming with his granddaughter? I’ll never know. He died of a heart attack on 14 May 1975.

Leroy Blair, myself and Anna Maria Morgart (Blair) on 25 Dec 1974

Luckily I have always had a good relationship with my dad. He is the best buddy a girl could ask for as we always did stuff together when I was growing up such as fishing, going to the movies, playing catch with a baseball in the backyard (despite my never trying out for little league or anything) and I’m sure a ton of other things that were just so commonplace they aren’t standing out. But he was always this strong presence. Still is today.

So as I write this on Father’s Day, I know my dad had a good dinner (we had cheesy brats and hamburgers with some calico beans and potato chips with cherry cupcakes and vanilla marshmallow frosting) and it was a good day with family.

Wishing all of the dad’s out there a very Happy Father’s Day!

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks, Maternal Side, My Family Tree, Paternal Side

Week 21: At the Cemetery

Growing up my parents never took me to cemeteries to view the headstones of our dearly departed. My grandfather, Leroy Blair, who passed away when I was 2 years old, was cremated, so we didn’t have any gravesite to visit.

The first death that affected me was that of my great-grandmother, Mildred Laura Dunbar. She passed away 8 January 1982 which was my cousin Jaclyn’s birthday, who turned 4 that day. My mother always remembered Jaclyn sitting on her lap, telling her that she bet “Great Grandma probably already has her wings”. It was the perfect sentiment for my mom about one of her most favorite people in the world. Mildred did have a gravesite but I only ever remember visiting a couple of times. There was extremely frigid weather taking place around her death, so it took a bit before she was able to be buried, if my memory serves. There was no cemetery portion of her funeral, it all took place at McGowan-Reid & Santos Funeral Home in Cuyahoga Falls (I don’t think it’s called that anymore).

Then I remember hearing issues about Mildred’s gravestone. They kept setting it incorrectly and water kept accumulating all around it. No matter what they did it just never seemed right. Both times we went, there were puddles.

Sadly as an adult I haven’t gone to visit my Great-Grandmother’s grave, but in the past year someone has added it to Find a Grave. The photo above was taken by Kedillow.

My next gravesite I found was that of my grandma, Anna Maria Morgart. She had everything all arranged prior to her passing so my parents had little to do but the finalized ceremony. I don’t think my parents ever went to my Grandma’s gravesite after the ceremony at the cemetery. We didn’t have the one at the gravesite, but my brother-in-law stood by while the men buried her. Apparently he did that as one of his past jobs. I’m often glad my parents skipped that portion, I don’t think I could have handled watching my Grandma be put into the ground.

It has been a few years (not sure exactly how many) when I decided one day to go find my Grandma where she was buried at Rose Hill Burial Park in Akron. My husband pulled in and all I could remember was that she was under a tree, and I knew she had chosen a good spot because she would have liked the shade. But as we tiptoed trying to find her from a memory at least seven years prior, I was so happy when I finally found her headstone. It was a flat one in the ground. And though I had stepped so lightly and was so cautious to not step on anyone, lo and behold I was standing right on top of Grandma. But I laughed, if anyone would have forgiven me it would have been her.

Once I began getting involved in my genealogy seriously, I became extremely focused on finding my Great-Great-Grandmother, Mazie Lorenia Warner, and found her I did. It took a while as she is not listed on any of the cemetery sites, and the cemetery she is buried in, Mount Peace Cemetery, also in Akron, Ohio, doesn’t have her listed. But I contacted the office and they were able to send me over the invoice copies of when she purchased both plots back in 1938 when her second husband, Samuel Randol, unexpectedly passed away. I was so excited when I went on a whim with my husband to find her, I did it so I could show my mom more easily on a lunch hour one day.

But that lunch hour excursion never happened. I found Mazie and Samuel in September 2017 and my mom wasn’t feeling up to ever meeting me at the cemetery. I figured I would the next year, but just 8 months later, she had passed away too.

Like my Grandfather Blair, my Mom opted to be cremated. I understand, there is a great deal of expense when burying a loved one. But I will admit, I wish I had a cemetery plot to visit so I could hash out the worldly problems with my her. Especially on days like today, the 3rd anniversary of her death.

Two years ago I went back to Pennsylvania and spent an entire day visiting the graves of my direct line ancestors on my paternal side (with some bonus extras I found in the same spots). There was something so wonderful to be so close to where they had their final resting place, to be so close to them. But in that one day I was able to visit with at least 22 direct-line grandparents (probably more as I know some where buried in the vicinity where I was standing, but probably didn’t know for certain where they were buried due to their headstones being gone).

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks, Maternal Side, My Family Tree, Paternal Side

Week 13: Music

The theme for Week 13 of Amy Johnson Crow’s 52 Ancestors in 52 Week’s is Music. I know I myself absolutely love music – all kinds from pop music, classic rock, alternative, classical, Broadway tunes, and due to my son being in a volunteer band while learning to play the trumpet in school, I’m evening expanding into jazz.

But when I think of my relatives and music, both of my grandmother’s come to mind and below you will read about these special ladies and their love of music.

Alberta Lou Fleming

My maternal grandmother, Alberta Lou Fleming, loved music. She was one of those people who loved to dance and listen to the big band music of the 1940’s. When chatting with my Aunt she was able to tell me how when she was growing up, every Sunday they (Alberta, and her children) would go over to their grandma’s (Mildred Laura Dunbar) for dinner and they would put on the big band music and sing their heart’s out and dance. That must have been something to see in her living room.

Alberta Lou Fleming, New Year’s Eve at her friend, Margie’s, house (I love how she is all dressed up to dance and party, just wish the photo hadn’t looked like it had partied too)

I know my Grandma’s (Alberta) favorite song was “In the Mood”. I can’t say that I blame her, when I hear songs from that era, it is one of the ones that really gets my toes tapping as well. I can imagine it would be hard to not get up and dance.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_CI-0E_jses

Terry Mildred Fleming

The apple didn’t fall far from the tree when it came to a love of music. My Aunt, who would have been 72 years old today (April 2), loved music as well. Her younger sister told me that her favorite was music by the Beetles. Here is a photo of my Aunt Teri (she changed the spelling over the years) from her High School Yearbook – she was always so fashionable and I love this photo.

Can’t you just see her dancing? Photo from the Cuyahoga Falls High School Yearbook

Though I was unable to confirm it, I thought I remembered my mother telling me how she had bought my aunt a life size doll to dance with. I asked my other aunt (my mom and aunt Teri’s younger sister) and my own sister, but neither remember. Initially I wasn’t going to add it, but it seems to me I wouldn’t have ever thought to make something like this up, but I like what my aunt also said, it totally sounded like something my mom would have done. So if she didn’t, I’m sure she must have thought about it.

Anna Maria Morgart

My Grandma Blair (as I know her) loved to hum. It didn’t matter what she was doing, she hummed. When she did dishes. When she crocheted. She could be sitting in a chair and daydreaming and she would hum. Even when I called her on the phone and there was that slight lull in the coversation.

She would also listen to her radio to church music and the like as well. But when I think of her I think of her humming. And there are times now that I am older when I am doing something and I don’t have music on, I hum too. (Just to add, today, April 2, would have been my Grandma’s 107th birthday).

Grandma Blair (aka Anna Maria Morgart). Not necessarily a moment when she was humming, but it is a photo that makes me smile (I believe she had finished dishes and was flinging water at us with her fingers). Not sure when this was taken, but it was in the mid-late 1980’s in her kitchen)

To me nothing brings back memories better than music. Often a song will come on the radio and it’s as if I am going through all the emotions of the that moment as if it just happened. No other sense is as powerful for me. So when I hear “In the Mood” I think of my Grandma Metzger (aka Alberta Lou Fleming) and how she made me laugh with her fabulous sense of humor that I wish I had, or when I find myself humming in a room by myself, I smile as I know wonderful people before me did the same.

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks, My Family Tree, Paternal Side

Week 7: An Unusual Source

This week I have been scratching my head about how to proceed with this week’s theme of Amy Johnson Crow’s writing challenge 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks. The goal is to examine your sources of information and share the unusual source that helped you solve a mystery (or even a basic find). Sometimes there are other ways you can interpret a prompt, I wish I could be creative enough to find an alternate meaning with this one, but nothing is coming to me in any form.

I’m Boring

I’ve come to the conclusion I’m boring. In a hope of discovering an odd source I’d forgotten I’ve analyzed a 67-page report of all my citations in my genealogy program. I have the regular bunch of standard items: censuses, birth certificates, death certificates, city directories, marriage licenses, newspapers, courthouse records (wills and deeds), and lastly DNA. But I guess I don’t find any of these to be “unusual” sources.

My Husband

I even asked my husband his interpretation of the prompt. He took a while to respond but was way off of what the exercise was, but hey, at least he tried.

My Unusual Source

A question I never thought to ask my Grandma when she was alive was how did she (Anna Maria Morgart) and Leroy Blair meet (to be fair, I never asked my Grandma Metzger how she met my grandfather, Harold Fairhurst, and no one seems to know that either). Even my dad never thought to ask. I wondered if maybe it happened at a Fourth of July picnic hosted by by Grandmother’s aunt, Mrs. Bartley Noggle (aka Anna Rebekah Morgart). Below is a newspaper article from the Everett Press on Friday, 7 July 1933 and for a while I really thought this picnic was how they met.

Other thoughts from when I initially found the newspaper article was how thrilled I was that my Grandma still had a relationship with her dad’s family (as he died when she was 3 in 1917).

Mrs. Wilbur May, also mentioned, was the wife of my Grandfather’s cousin, Wilbur May, who was also his best friend. My dad said he only ever saw his dad cry once and that as when Wilbur died of cardiac failure at the age of 46 in 1957.

But over the past year I have been going through photos in boxes and I recently found the following note on the back of a photo she had taken in 1933 where in her own handwriting states that she met Leroy in April 1933.

Talk about being bummed!

So it just goes to show you can come up with solid theory’s but sometimes you don’t know where you will find a fact that will shatter it. I think I preferred my Fourth of July picnic better, as now I’ll never know how they met. Unless there is another nugget of happiness on the back of a photo I’ve not yet uncovered.

As for my Grandma – along with Joe I too liked her a lot. There is a photo of him with her in this grouping of photos. But we will have to find out about him another day.