F is for Family

As our family historian, it is my job to track down all the missing ancestors. It's amazing how finding just one leads to another until it is an all consuming task. Along the way, the missing ancestors stop being just names and become real people again. You find yourself pulled in by their joys and sorrows. That how it is with my grandpa's sister, Delia.

Mack Henry, Delia, Roy, Jessie, Carrie, George, Sidney and John, around 1905. 

Fidelia Florence Rhea was born on August 11, 1877, in the rural area outside of Sneedville, Tennessee. She was 6th of nine children.

She married Mack Henry Hatfield when she was 16. Together they had 10 children, Roy being the oldest. One would expect with that many children, life would be busy and it certainly was for Delia. My great grandmother writes on October 10. 1919, "Delia has a boy they call him Luke Michael". On January 1, 1919, she says, "Roy Hatfield say he is homesick."

Roy Hatfield was homesick and ill as well. I don't know anything about soldiers being "gassed" in World War I but he was and never really recovered. He was 25 years old.

I suspect these pictures were taken before he was sent overseas. He seemed to be awfully close to Maud Conard but when he came home he married Nola Seals.

Roy and Maud Conard and various brothers and sisters, crossing the Clinch River. 

Roy and Maud Conard with Uncle Victor and Aunt Cornie in the background

Uncle Victor and Roy Hatfield with Mossie and Maude Cope, friends of the family. 

I guess Roy Hatfield has been on my mind. Tennessee recently released the death records for the years I am looking for and I found Roy's. We know he was admitted to the National Home for Disabled Soldiers with chronic arthritis in 1928. In 1930, he had moved to the National Soldiers home in Virginia, into the Mental Patients Unit. We don't have a record of his release date but on August 15, 1938, he took the shotgun from the house and went into the forest and shot himself.

Jessie, Carrie, John, and Edna lived into their 90's.
George to almost 70.
Sidney committed suicide at 70 in 1972.
Grant was in his 70's passing away in 1974.
Rhea died of lung cancer at the age of 42 in 1956.
Little Luke died at age 18 in 1937 in a car accident.

Delia passed away in 1961 at the age of 83. Mack Henry Hatfield died in 1947 at the age of 81. He also committed suicide so it left Delia to hold the family together. While she was still living, she lost Roy, Rhea, and Luke and her husband.

Hats off to Delia. Our family is built on strong women. I grieve for her losses but also take joy in the fact that her great grandchildren talk about her in glowing terms. She survived to share her joy with her grandchildren and great grandchildren and that a glowing testimony to her spirit.

E is for Easter

A day or two late posting this one. 

Easter is a family memory as sweet today as it was then. My mom would make my dresses but we always shopped for my Easter Bonnet. Of course, I would get new white shoes. They were shoes I wasn't allowed to play in and only wore them on Sundays.

We always had a ham. It is inconceivable to think of Easter without ham. We got Easter baskets and went outside to look for eggs. We always went to church. Well, we went to church every Sunday but Easter was special.

My brother and I in 1952

My brother and I in 1954, right after we moved into our brand new house.

Same swing set in 1955. I am surprised my mom let me swing in gloves although I am thinking this was staged because I don't look so happy.

September 1956, not Easter but a regular Sunday morning. The two younger women are Patsy and Sandra Peach who lived with us, My dad is holding my brother and there's my mom. Again, I am not looking to happy. I didn't like pictures.   

 Hope you had a wonderful Easter. 

D is for Reverend and Mrs. Drake

I don't remember these people but the names stay in my memory. Reverend Drake was the pastor of our little church in La Puente, California and of course, Mrs. Drake was his wife. I have a couple photos of them taken by my mother long ago.

Immaunel Baptist Church was started in Revered Drake's house in 1953. 

By 1958, the church on Francisquito Ave. was completed. 

Mrs. Maddox, Mrs. Cockrell, Reverend Drake, Mrs. Crane, Mrs. Drake, 1958, Immanuel Baptist Church

Where the Drake house once stood turned into a parking lot, progress at its best. 

Mrs. Drake, Mrs. Crane, Reverend Rich, and Reverend Breland, who was the Pastor in 1958. In West Covina where Rev Drake's home stood when Immanuel Baptist Church was organized.

C is for Christine Edmonds

Christine Edmonds died much too young.

Ella Christine Edmonds was born on July 29, 1930, the middle child of my Aunt Ruth and Uncle Marcus. This is where I share I am always surprised when I see her name because she was never called Ella. Both girls went by middle name and her brother by initials only. Duh, my aunt never went by her first name either so now it makes sense.

The little one is Annette, the older one Christine, both of them holding my mom's hands. The photo was taken in about 1936, somewhere in Texas, probably Wichita Falls. 

 As children, we spent a lot of time in Texas with my Aunt Ruth. Uncle Marcus passed away when we were young and Aunt Ruth went back to school to become a nurse to support her children.

Christine and Martin Wilson. Donna Ruth, David and I. 

Christine grew up and married Martin Wilson in 1948. They had three children although only the youngest was not born when this picture was taken in March of 1953. This in on their farm in Sweeny, Texas. We got in so much trouble after this picture was taken when we discovered the down pillows in the shed. Pillow fights are fun until your parents find you covered in feathers and all the pillows destroyed.

Christine Wilson died on March 11, 1978 after a sudden illness. We were all shocked and saddened by her early death. She was very involved in her community and the lives of her children. She might be gone (and it has been a while) but she has lived on in my memory and was never forgotten.

B is for Bernice Elaine Bergstrom

Bernice Elaine Bergstrom is my "Aunt Bernice".

 

I am going to say that knowing her was an opportunity missed. It wasn't until I was an adult (middle aged at that) before I understood her. As a child, she was a formidable figure who slightly frightened me.  No, she was not mean or threatening in any way, she was just a presence that was larger than me.

Bernice was born on July 4, 1912 in Minnesota. Her father arrived from Sweden in 1880 when he was a toddler. Her mother was born in Iowa. How they met or gravitated to Minnesota is not known but Aunt Bernice was very proud of her Minnesota roots. She was the oldest of five children and was very partial to her brother Kenneth.

I haven't done the research to find where she met my uncle but I do remember when they came to see us after they were married on September 2, 1955.

They made the trip from Montana to Southern California. One of my parent's favorite things to do was to take family to Los Angeles and eat at Clifton's Cafeteria in Downtown. (Clifton's has been closed for years but is reopening soon and I am so looking forward to a trip there.)

Me, Uncle Ralph, Aunt Bernice, my mom Ruby, my dad Ernie and my brother in September 1955 at Clifton's. 

We saw a lot of Uncle Ralph and Aunt Bernice but even as a teen I never felt quite her equal. She was exceptionally smart and had an opinion on everything. She and my dad had spirited discussions and sometimes I think he took the opposite viewpoint just to stir the pot.

Howard Rhea, Anne Rhea, Ralph Rhea, Bernice Rhea, Ernie Rhea, and Ruby Rhea in Walnut Creek, California 1970's.

The Rhea's brothers got together at least once a year. The three couples took the train from Williams, Arizona to the Grand Canyon. Uncle Ralph and Aunt Bernice went to the World's Fair in Tennessee with my parents. If they weren't visiting us, we were visiting them.

It wasn't until years later when my husband and I made the trip to Yellowstone National Park and Billings that I finally understood my aunt. She was in an assisted living facility. It was then I realized she was a kind person with a no-nonsense exterior. I wish I'd seen that before but I treasure the week we spent with her and my uncle.

Bernice Elaine Bergstrom passed away on August 1, 2005.

A is for Alan Philbrick

One of the biggest highlights of my life was a road trip we made from California to Maine. It was a three week journey full of wondrous sights. The idea for the trip came from a visit from the father of a friend.

Alan Philbrick had never been to California. Spending most of his life in Maine, the cross country trip he made also filled him with wonder. He couldn't get over the red rocks in Utah and Arizona. He was in awe of our mountains towing over the valleys.

When he left to go home, he invited us to spend some time in Maine, taking a trip with him on his lobster boat. An educator by trade, his passion was teaching about lobsters, the history of Maine, and then, providing his passengers with a lobster bake in Camden Harbor.

Captain Alan aboard the "Lucky Lady"

We traveled to Maine on Route 66, following it all the way to Chicago. We stopped at so many places and visited friends along the way. We spent several days in Erie, Pennsylvania. We made a stop at Niagara Falls and did the touristy thing on the Maid of the Mist. 

Still, the highlight of the trip was the lobster tour Alan provided. Instead of including us on one of his tours, he took us out all by ourselves. He taught my husband how to navigate the waters around the harbor, we pulled our own lobsters out of his traps, and saw all the lighthouses. We also learned everything there was to know about lobsters. Alan called them the "Serial Killers" of the sea. He told us lobsters used to be prison food until the prisoners complained. Lobster was the easiest and cheapest food available. So much of what he shared is still with me. 

Gary banding a lobster to take back. 

We returned to Alan's house in Rockland to spend an enjoyable evening, pigging out on the lobsters we pulled from the harbor. 

As a family history person, it is important for me to share these pictures since we have lost touch with the family. I don't know if Alan is still living but he looms large in our memory. He is a wonderful teacher, friend, host, and we can never thank him enough for taking the time to share his world with us. And...we will never eaten lobster again because there is no way to recreate the experience of pulling our food from the sea and eating it fresh.  

Thanks Alan!

A to Z Theme Reveal is today

This is easy. The Ancestor Photo Box is pictures of ancestors. They are not necessarily my ancestors but those of family friends and coworkers of my parents and other family members. Some don't have names, some do. Some I can identify by the location only.

I am a family historian with tons of pictures that still have not been scanned or identified. These people had family who loved them and would be delighted to find them. This is the only way I have of making them available to people who are actively searching for family.

Mrs. Drake, Mrs. Crane, Reverend Rich, Reverend Breland, Pastor, 1958. In West Covina where Rev Drake's house used to sit when Immanuel Baptist Church was organized.

This is just one of many. I was a little girl when this was taken. I remember the names but not the people.

I was recently overwhelmed when I joined a Facebook group for the area where I grew up and someone (out of the blue) posted my 2nd grade picture. I had pictures of another member's sister. We spent weeks sharing what we had. What a blessing it was to provide pictures they didn't know existed. We had so much fun!

My dad's Army Air Corp buddies, Dave Waterman and Harley Smith, Sheppard Field Texas, 1944

With hundreds of pictures to scan, there are some gems. In the pictures of my dad with Dave Waterman and Harley Smith, he looks happy and carefree. Most of the pictures of his early years are posed and serious so these are just fun.

I don't know anything about Dave Waterman or Harley Smith. I only have memories of him talking about the fun they had. So, if you know Dave Waterman or Harley Smith, please feel free to copy the pictures.

 Dave Waterman on left, my dad, Ernest Oliver Rhea on the right

Ernest Rhea, Dave Waterman, and Harley Smith

Immanuel Baptist Church, La Puente, California, Church history from 1953 to 1958

Immanuel Southern Baptist Church was my church home from 1953 to 1965. My memories of the church and all those who attended with me seems to take on a magical feel. We lived in the same neighborhood, attended the same schools, and went to the same church. We were a close group that lasted until we went to high school. My mother documented much of the early history in pictures.

Reverend Drake started the church in his home in 1953. That was the same year we moved to La Puente, California. Photo taken in 1954 with my brother and I with Faye Drake, wife of our first pastor. 

In the Spring of 1955, ground was broken for the first building of the new church location at 15847 Francisquito Ave, La Puente, California. My brother and I are in the second picture. I am the one in front of the sign, shading my eyes and my brother is in front of me. 

At the time of the groundbreaking, the church was meeting at the Women's Clubhouse in La Puente, California. The 1954 Mother Daughter banquet was held there. I am in the center picture. 

In 1955, the Mother Daughter Banquet was still at the Women's Clubhouse. Ruth Linda Wadley, my best friend, was sitting between her mother, Lida and big sister, Dorothy 

I am in the center of the picture below. 

September 4, 1955, the first building was dedicated.  Rev. Benny Bates, P Boyd Smith, Rev. Glen Smith, Pastor, Mrs. George Myers holding the Pastor's daughter, and George Myers are gathered at the front door. 

The church was a long rectangular building. In the front, there were church offices, then the sanctuary. In the back was a crying room where parents could still here the message and take care of the baby at the same time. There was no nursery to drop the little ones off and everyone went to church together. This is a picture of the crying room.

September 1956, my family at church. The two young ladies are Patsy and  Sandra Peach.

My mother directing the Primary Choir in April 1957. This was the day of the ground breaking for the 2nd building. 

Most of the work was done by the church family. This is Oscar Moser doing the cement work for the foundation. 

2nd building going up but the church it didn't get in the way of Vacation Bible School. 

The only one I recognize in these pictures is me, scowling in the top photo and Birdie Baker, corralling the kids. She is on the left next to the building. 

The Reverend Clyde Rich was the pastor at the time of the groundbreaking. There would later be a third building, a sanctuary on the corner of the property. I don't have pictures for that but do have lots and lots of memories of the church and the kids I grew up with. I am posting these pictures in hopes that someone will know some of these people. 

I believe that this Southern Baptist Church is no longer active but that does not take away from the time we spent as a church family and the work that God did through this church. 

Helen and Gerald Rawson

Not relatives but very much family. Helen and Gerry were newlyweds the same time as my parents. They shared a house in Los Angeles for a short time but both families ended up in La Puente, California.

Helen and Gerry lived in a big two story home, set back from the street. I remember big trees. I think Helen watched us for a time when we were smaller when my parents were at work.

Gerald Rawson was born in Los Angeles on March 11, 1925 and passed away on December 14, 2008 in South Paris, Maine. Helen was born in Auburn, Maine on March 14, 1927 and passed away on December 29, 2001, in Augusta, Maine. They had four children.

David was born a couple of weeks after me. Rachel was born the same year as my brother. I was five when Johnny was born and eight when Claudia was born. Her birthday is easy to remember because it's also my birthday. All us kids grew up together and I have so many memories of the times we spent together.

Rachel passed away on January 1, 1983 at the young age of 31. My husband and I attended her service and spent the day with the family. Rachel was a sweetheart and is still missed. Helen and Gerry attended my parents 40th wedding anniversary party in 1987. Right now I can only find two of the pictures so those are the ones I'm sharing here.

 Helen is the woman on the right. This picture was taken at my parent's home in Nuevo, California. I don't know the people in the middle but the man on the left is my Uncle Johnny.

Uncle Johnny is now on the right and Gerald is sitting on the piano bench. My sister-in-law Julie is on the left. 

Although I can't seem to find any other pictures, I know they are here somewhere. Still, right now, it's good enough because they are not just names and dates on a chart, they were loving and wonderful people.