Did They Know Their Independence?

[This post was written for the 51st Edition of the Carnival of Genealogy.

While most of my fellow genea-bloggers participating in the 51st edition of the Carnival of Genealogy: Independent Spirit will undoubtedly "name names" and describe specific male or female ancestors, I've decided to focus on the "spirit" rather than the person.

If you've been reading this blog over the past year, you know that there is a long line of women in my family who overcame many challenges and did so in their own way. Either by death or divorce, some of these women were left to fend for themselves and navigate life armed only with their wit, scrappiness and savvy. They raised children on their own, put food on the table, held down one or more jobs - all in a day when doing so was not the norm and often frowned upon.

And some of these women with families intact still had a sense of independence and freedom that other women dare not pursue. They had careers or they were engaged in their communities through volunteer and political works. And they had opinions - strong ones that were vocalized frequently. No shrinking violets were they.

What I find most true about all these women, is that if you ever asked them questions such as: "Do you consider yourself a feminist?" or "Were you a women's libber?" or "Did you march in the Suffragette movement?" - these women would never admit to being extremists, which is how they pictured women involved in these movements.

I've often thought why this is so. Did they not want to risk losing the life they had worked hard to build? Were they concerned about the opinions of their families and neighbors? I think that their lack of identification with a specific movement proves their independent spirit. These women were not about to be shaped and molded as men or their peers thought was best.

My mother, grand-mother, great-grandmother and great-great-grandmother all used their common sense and inner sense of self to guide them. They did not need to carry a placard, or to march, or to protest. And they certainly never asked permission - whether it was to move long distances with several children and no money or to tell their clergyman what they thought of their churches' teachings on women, sex, children, or justice.

And from whom did they learn what power they had? In my family, the women mentioned above are not along a mother-daughter line. It is more mother-in-law, daughter-in-law, etc. type of line. Perhaps their own mothers were absent and so they learned from their mother-in-laws? Or being truly independent, they just saw a problem and went to work trying to solve it.

From whomever they learned this wisdom, I'm just thankful they did. My life, and the lives of many of my family members would not be the same. And to answer the question, "Did they know their independence?": of course they did. But they'd never let on. They all knew that their independence could be achieved from within existing social, political and family structures. They were more comfortable being on the inside and making change there, than being on the outside and pointing out what was wrong.

They knew. Believe me, they knew.

Will the Circle Be Unbroken?

This post was composed for the 44th Edition of the Carnival of Genealogy.

This is a video slide show created using Adobe Photo Elements 6.0 with an accompanying sound track. So turn up your volume and enjoy!

A Dinner of Remembrance

This post was written for the 41st Edition - Carnival of Genealogy

For Sleep’s Sake

“Finally!” I said out loud to not another living soul in the room as I turned off the computer. Between work and genealogy projects not to mention the menial tasks of daily life, I was exhausted. And it was late.

As I got ready for bed and hoped for a decent night’s sleep for a change, I pondered the theme of the next Carnival of Genealogy: If you could have dinner with four of your ancestors who would they be and why? For some reason, even after having read that on Jasia’s blog over 10 hours ago, I couldn’t free my mind from its grip. What was it about the question that would not let me turn my brain off? Was it having to select only four dead ancestors? Was it having to decide which ancestors? Or was it the fear of the actual event of sharing a meal and interacting with these people? Would I try to get answers to questions which I already knew would be difficult for them to answer and whose answers I would surely have difficulty understanding?

“Too many questions, Thomas. Now go to bed!” As I hit middle-age I found myself talking in this “outer voice” to myself but still no one could hear me. I hope.

And so I tried to drift off into a long awaited and needed slumber.

* * *

In Dreams

Drifting away into a deeper and deeper sleep, I could barely hear a conversation, or so I thought. But in dreams people often interpret real noises in the exterior world as different noises in the dream world. Sort of how a bell ringing in a dream is really the alarm clock.

Clarence’s Voice: You sent for me, sir?

Franklin’s Voice: Yes, Clarence. A man down on earth needs our help.

Clarence’s Voice: Splendid! Is he sick?

Franklin’s Voice: No, worse. He's discouraged. He’s trying to decide which four ancestors he should invite to a dinner. He’s afraid that he’ll find out more than he bargained for or that he won’t be able to interact and get along with these people.

Clarence’s Voice: Oh, dear, dear! Then I've only got an hour to dress.

Franklin’s Voice: You will spend that hour getting acquainted with four ancestors of Thomas MacEntee. Convince him that his life is made up of the influences these people had, whether directly or indirectly. If they hadn’t existed, neither would he.

Clarence’s Voice: But why does he have to interact with them? Can’t he find out all this information through his research?

Franklin’s Voice: Research will only take him so far. Sometimes in family history there are so many questions left unanswered that ancestors take with them to the afterlife. Why? Because there was no one there to challenge them, to question them. Not only does Thomas need to see that the challenge must be made, show him what his life would be like without those people or those answers.

Clarence’s Voice: Sir . . . If I should accomplish this mission –– I mean –– might I perhaps win my wings? I've been waiting for over two hundred years now, sir –– and people are beginning to talk.

Franklin’s Voice: Clarence, you do a good job with Thomas, and you'll get your wings.

Clarence’s Voice: Oh, thank you, sir. Thank you.

Franklin’s Voice: If you're going to help someone in this situation, you’ll want to know something about those four ancestors, won't you?

Clarence’s Voice: Well, naturally. Of course. But which four are you proposing he should invite and why?

* * *

And so, Franklin began telling a story of Thomas’ ancestors that stretch back over 500 years but the focus right now was from 1865 up to the present day. The four ancestors that Thomas had been pondering during those hours since he first read the theme of the carnival, were as follows:

- Bridget Farren McGinnis, a maternal great-great-grandmother of Thomas’ born about 1865 who died about 1930.

- Anna Henneberg Austin, Thomas’ maternal grandmother born in 1912 who died in 1965.

- Dulcide McCrickert Sidden, one of Thomas’ 1st cousins twice removed who was born in 1921 and died in 2006.

- Jacqueline Austin MacEntee, Thomas’s dear mother, born in 1941.

Clarence’s Voice: But sir, what is the death date for his mother? Is she still alive?

Franklin’s Voice: Yes she is, Clarence. But wait for all the details and you’ll understand how she fits in with this mission.

Clarence was able to get all the facts as Franklin went over details of the lives of each of these women. But it was more than details that Franklin imparted – at various points in “the telling” he would also describe not only the character traits which Thomas inherited, but also the questions that seemed so mysterious to him and why Thomas needed these four ancestors to be “completed.”

An Irish Girl from Belfast

Bridget Farren arrived in New York on May 25, 1885 aboard the ship Aurania. She was traveling with friends, or possibly the family of her sister, Mary Farren Martin, according to the passenger manifest. The city that she arrived in was on the cusp of greatness: in 1885 the cables for the Brooklyn Bridge were being laid; in 1886 the first cross-town trolley would start and the American Telephone and Telegraph company was founded and developing a new device called the telephone. But Bridget’s main concern was getting settled, finding employment and securing a husband.

Where or when she met Matthew McGinnis is unclear but they were probably married around 1887 in New York. He had come from Ireland, which part is not known, earlier in 1883 with his brother. He married Bridget and then became a naturalized citizen in September, 1888. Over the course of the next 12 years, he and Bridget would have six children – five girls and one boy – all of which would grow into adulthood, save for the boy, his namesake, Matthew McGinnis who died in 1893 at age 18 months.

With four children you can be sure that Bridget had her hands full in February 1899 especially since her fifth and final child, Gertrude would be born within days. She could use every bit of help she could get. But as fate, not luck, would have it, her husband Matthew died on February 15, 1899. And their daughter was born one week later on February 22, 1899.

Life wasn’t easy for Bridget in Ireland nor would it prove to be so in New York either. But as it has been for women centuries before and would continue to be so for many more, she gathered her strength, was bolstered by her faith, and rounded up her children and made a life for herself and them. Things were tough, no doubt, but over the next 25 years, those girls would grow into beautiful women. They would all be married off into their own lives, with their own children by 1923 and gather around Bridget when she took her last breath in 1930.

In the ensuing years, Bridget’s daughter Therese Rose and her husband, John Ralph Austin would give birth to their first son Alfred Austin who would then marry Anna May Henneberg and give birth to a daughter Jacqueline, mother to Thomas.

A German-American Girl from The Bronx

Born in The Bronx, New York in 1912, one month after it had become a county independent of New York county, Anna May Henneberg was the eldest child of Richard Henneberg and Frances Pressner. They both had arrived from Germany sometime around 1906, each of them at the age of 18.

Anna, known to her grandchildren as “Nanny” would first marry Lars Larson around 1932 and then give birth to a daughter Ann Patricia in 1933. Whether by divorce or death, Anna somehow was apart from Lars and soon married Alfred Austin, the eldest son of Therese Rose McGinnis and John Ralph Austin, in 1935.

Over the course of the next 14 years she would give birth to 11 more children for a total of 12 – eight daughters and four sons. Raising a dozen kids, even with the help of a husband, was difficult in Jersey City, New Jersey, especially coming off the Depression years. Years later there would be tales from the children of fights over food at the supper table, having to take what you could get the first time, since there were no “seconds.” Clothes were always hand me downs and probably threadbare by time they reached the littlest one.

And when not pregnant, Anna would continue to work as a nurse in local hospitals. Sometime in the mid-1950s, the entire family would move up to the “mountains” as they called the Catskills back then. Anna had spent time up at the retirement farm owned by her in-laws and would often send the children up for the summer to escape the dirt and heat of the city.

Separated from Alfred for much of the late 1950s and early 1960s, most of her children would be married by time she died on May 4, 1965 in Liberty, New York of a cerebral hemorrhage.

An Irish American Girl from Long Island

One of many grand-daughters of Bridget Farren, Dulcide Veronica McCrickert was born in 1921 and would spend her entire life on Long Island in New York until her death in early 2006. She was the daughter of Elizabeth Agnes Veronica McGinnis and John B. McCrickert. She was the middle of five children, with sisters Ethel Agnes and Grace Elizabeth and brothers John Bernard and Matthew Thomas.

Life was much easier for Dulcide’s family than it had been for her mother or her grandmother. Del, as she was called, would grow up into a stunning young woman who married Harold Sidden in late May, 1946. But within two weeks, tragedy and heartache would set in: her youngest brother Matthew, age 20, would die in a military plane crash in Freehold, New Jersey.

Del and Harold had two children Elizabeth and Harold who were also raised on Long Island. And then in late 1955 and early 1956 both of Del’s parents would pass away within six short weeks of each other.

It was sometime after their deaths that the relationship between the siblings somehow seemed to implode, over what and why is not clear. But the stubbornness of not wanting to talk to one another would persist for some of these children until their deaths many years later.

A German Irish American Girl from The City

Jacqueline Austin was born in New York City but raised in Jersey City, New Jersey most of her life. She is the sixth of the twelve children of Anna May Henneberg and Alfred Austin and, as typical of the “middle” child, was the peace broker and negotiator in the family, up until her untimely illness beginning in 2000.

Clarence’s Voice: Wait, so Jacqueline is still alive?

Franklin’s Voice: As I said before Clarence, yes she is. But when a person suffers from Alzheimer’s Disease, especially the early on-set type that strikes in their mid-50s, they become a shell, a husk of their former self. The disease robs them of the same pleasures and joys that death does, but only over a course of time that is painful for families to watch. That is why Alzheimer’s is often called a “death in slow motion.”

Clarence’s Voice: Oh, I see. But being someone who raised him, why would Thomas still have questions about his mother?

Franklin’s Voice: Please, let me continue.

Jackie or Suzi as she was called (the practice of nicknames totally unrelated to their given names was sort of an inside joke played by the Austin family), spent her early life in Jersey City but moved up to the Catskills in upstate New York by the mid-1950s. She graduated from high school and then married her high school sweetheart, Richard MacEntee in 1961. Within 13 months she would produce two sons, Thomas and Michael and along with her husband try to raise them as best as possible. But Richard soon left, they filed for divorce, and soon Jackie was left in much the predicament of her great-grandmother, Bridget: alone, and supporting children by herself.

During much of the 1970s life was not easy but using smarts and determination she managed to secure a well-paying job, buy a house and settle into a life filled with family and friends. Her two boys would take off in the 1980s, one for college and one for the military, but there were many homecomings, celebrations, cookouts and even a wedding.

As well, she felt blessed to be able to care for and house her great-grandmother, Therese McGinnis Austin, during the mid-1980s until her death in 1986. And she would do the same thing for Dulcide’s sister, Ethel McCrickert Hannan until she died in 2002. But by that time, the Alzheimer’s Disease had already taken root to the alarm of her family. While the “death” happened in slow motion, the legal and financial plans behind the scenes which helped to protect her couldn’t happen fast enough.

With time, Jackie would progress from early retirement to in-home care to long-term nursing home care. Nowadays Thomas makes the trip from Chicago back to New York several times a year to check on his mother and to work with other family members who lend their valuable time and support in her care.

* * *

Clarence’s Voice: Ok, so I think I have all the facts. Now comes the easy part, helping Thomas form his questions, prepare him for what may not be easy answers, and assure him that he needs to do this in order to find not only his ancestors but himself, right?

Franklin’s Voice: Correct and incorrect. This will not be easy. But it will be worthwhile and, Clarence, you will earn those wings.

* * *

Call Me Angel in the Morning

“Who the hell are you?” I said to the darkness as I awoke suddenly. I wasn’t sure if my mind was playing tricks on me or if it was just the half-awake extension of my dream.

“I’ve come to help you with your dinner,” said a voice still without form, only black space.

“Great, just what I need, a caterer that I can’t see!”

“I’m not a caterer. I’ve been sent here to assist you in selecting the ancestors you want to invite and what questions you need to ask.”

“Need to ask? You make it seem so important. Like I’ll die if I don’t do this.”

“Well, I could easily show you what things would be like if you had never been born. But there isn’t time – they’ll be here in a few hours,” said the presence as he made himself known more clearly. What stood before me could best be described as a very short, balding, elderly man but with a strange, not quite American English accent, wearing some sort of a nightshirt. I wasn’t necessarily frightened but more amazed. Wanting to ask “who” exactly sent him, but sensing the fleeting hours, I sat on the side of the bed and began to pepper this phantasm with questions.

“Who are you? What are you? Where do you come from?” I asked.

“My name is Clarence Odbody, A-S-2, and I come from heaven.”

“Heaven? And A-S-2, what’s that?”

“Angel, Second Class.” Clarence stated.

“Great. Now I have some angel on my hands that wants to convert me or something. And besides, where are your wings?” I said with skepticism. Perhaps this was just one of the “over served” at the bar down the street.

“Oh, I have to earn them and that’s where you are going to help me. And I’m going to help you.”

“How?”

“I’m here to help you pick those dinner guests and formulate the questions you should ask, have to ask,” said this quirky but increasingly lovable character. “Sure, life will go on even if you don’t hold this dinner and get those answers, but life will be so much better. You’ll see how all the pieces of your family puzzle fit together. And which ones are still missing.”

“Why can’t you just give me the answers and we can do away with this whole production?” I figured, why not just get to the obvious? But my response surprised even me since I wasn’t raised to look for shortcuts. I had been taught that anything truly valuable and truly desired had to be earned, just like wings.

“Don’t you know everything being an angel and what not? I bet you could even tell me who wins the primary here in Illinois next week!”

“Not so easy. If I knew everything, wouldn’t I have my wings already? And besides, elections and politicians are handled by a different department - down below,” Clarence eerily said with a hush and a pointing to his bare feet.

“So where do we start? I have some ideas as to who I want to invite, what will be served, how to set the table . . .”

“Don’t bother with inconsequential details – you probably won’t even get to serve the meal, nor will these dead ancestors be able to eat it. Just go with the four people you thought about right before you fell asleep last night.”

It was already morning then, I realized. Being late January, and with the winter grey in Chicago, it was hard to tell exactly when the sun rose or set anymore.

“So I should invite Bridget, Anna, Dulcide and my mother, Jackie?” I asked hesitantly to the angel.

“Yes,” he said. “The four strong, independent and persevering women who’ve given you so much but still leave so much unanswered.”

“Well, now that we’ve got that settled, here’s the hard part: What do I ask? I have so many questions? Will I aggravate them? Will I annoy them? Will they avoid answering?”

Clarence cut me off by saying, “Hold it! You’re annoying even me right now! Why not do this: where you would normally have small menu cards on each plate, just print five questions for each person. Then see how it goes.”

“Ok, then what? Do I just sit and wait all day for them to show up? Will they appear all at once? Will they knock on the door or just scare the crap out of me by calling from the darkness like you did?” I was impatient and Clarence could tell.

“Your problem, kid, is going to be keeping this list to five questions each! So get cracking.” Clarence was dusting off his nightshirt and started to retreat into the darkness of the bedroom which was just beginning to fill with sun.

I yelled, “You’re not going are you? You have to help me with this!”

“No. You know what you want to ask. You just need to get the right mix of questions to produce the answers you want and need. My role is to simply act as a muse and to lend inspiration from time to time. I’ll be right here,” he said.

“But how will I know if it’s right? What if I don’t get it right?”

“You’ll know. Now go ahead. This time tomorrow you’ll have had a wonderful, albeit too short a visit with these women, and you’ll have some but not all of the answers, or at least leads for research, and I will have my wings.”

And with that, Clarence was gone.

* * *

A Menu of Questions

I can’t tell you how the dinner went or what I found out since it hasn’t happened yet. I’m still waiting. But since Clarence disappeared over four hours ago, I was able to assemble the following menu cards:

Menu for Bridget Farren McGinnis

Appetizer

What prompted you to make the long journey to America?

First Course

How did you feel during those first 15 years in the United States, having gotten married and having six children?

Second Course

How did your husband Matthew McGinnis die?

Side Dishes

What did you do for an income after his death?

Dessert

Did you have any role models or did the determination to survive and raise your daughters simply come from within?



Menu for Anna May Henneberg

Appetizer

How and why did you and Lars Larson become separated?

First Course

Was it your choice to have so many children?

Second Course

Did your second husband, Alfred Austin abandon you?

Side Dishes

Were you ever abused?

Dessert

Why do your letters to your mother-in-law sound so sad and desperate?



Menu for Dulcide McCrickert Sidden

Appetizer

Did you get along with your older sisters Ethel and Grace?

First Course

What was it like to endure the death of your youngest brother Matthew?

Second Course

What led to the rupture of the relationship between you and your siblings?

Side Dishes

Did you want to contact your sisters and did you try?

Dessert

Did you know where your sister Ethel was living near the end of her life, and if so, why didn’t you attempt to contact her?



Menu for Jacqueline Austin MacEntee

Appetizer

Can you describe the descent into Alzheimer’s and how it feels?

First Course

Did you always feel caught in the middle being the sixth out of twelve kids?

Second Course

Did your father abuse you and your sisters as I suspect, and if so, did you tell anyone?

Side Dishes

Why did you try to find your missing sister after she had disappeared after 35 years?

Dessert

Do you know you are my hero, my role model?

Copyright January 29, 2008 by Thomas MacEntee
Inspired, in part, by the screenplay “IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE” by Frances Goodrich, Albert Hackett, Frank Capra, and Jo Swerling

Civil Rights and Diversity: Serving Witness, Giving Voice

Miriam over at AnceStories2: Stories of Me for My Descendants has an interesting journal prompt this week. Entitled Civil Rights and Diversity, she asks her readers to write about the various challenges that families faced in terms of racial, religious or other forms of discrimination. And even if your family was not a target of such practices, if you remember other families, friends or neighbors who were told that they lived outside the margins of the rest of society.

Before I start I want to thank Miriam for this post and challenge. Very often as we pursue our own genealogy or family history research, we can do so with a set of "blinders" on and not realize what others may have experienced in our ancestors' communities. I've often wondered if my ancestors owned slaves or were abolitionists, if any of my female ancestors were suffragettes or women's libbers (that's a term I haven't heard or used for a while!), if any of my relatives practiced forms of discrimination or helped to break down barriers put up against others. I try to remind myself, from time to time, to step outside of "my family" and look around at what was going on at that time, then step back in and put my family in perspective.

What was the racial, ethnic, or religious situation in the community where you grew up? Was your family part of a racial, ethnic, or religious majority or minority? Were there differences in your community or family such as developmental disabilities, mental illness, or social class differences? Were there bi-racial or mixed-faith families?

I grew up in Liberty, Sullivan County, New York which is part of the Borscht Belt of Jewish resorts made famous during the 1940s and 1950s. By the time I grew up, the community had a very sizeable Jewish presence with a bakery and deli that closed on the High Holy Days. Our school also had off for Yom Kippur and Passover. Many of my friends in school were Jews and through them I became very familiar with religious practices and customs especially the Bar Mitzvah and Bat Mitzvah.

The concept of mixed-faith families was a hot button issue in the late 1960s as was mixed-raced families. Keep in mind that inter-racial marriage was still illegal in some states up until 1967. I knew several mixed-faith families and because of certain prejudices it often meant that there would be turmoil especially around holidays.

How did this affect you and your family? Did your family experience discrimination or prejudice, or were family members prejudiced against others? Have you ever feared for your life because of prejudice?

Growing up, my mother was one of the only divorced women in our town. This was at the time when the Roman Catholic Church no longer considered divorce a reason for excommunication from the church. Having attended parochial school for the first three grades, I always felt "set apart" when it came to interacting with other students. When questioned about my father and why he didn't live with us, I often declined to answer. Even I myself did not really understand it at that time in my live.

I have found quite a bit of prejudice, especially against Jews and Blacks in my family. My mother was a big advocate of taking me and my brother aside after a visit to relatives where someone made bigotted comments. She explained that those views were not shared by her or by open-minded people. She also made it clear that we were not to make those comments either. I think it is only actions like these that help break the chain of prejudice in a family.

In my research of letters and diaries from the 1940s through the 1950s, it is disturbing to see my relatives, some still living, use derogatory terms to describe others. It also puts me in a difficult position of deciding whether or not to include such terms when transcribing documents. As a family historian, as much as it may cause commotion and strife, I believe I need to be true to the document. And I shouldn't try to "explain away" why that person used such a term. I can, however, put it in context of the times, much as we do slavery in this country. It doesn't mean it was right, but it gives witness to the fact that it did happen, and that it had and still has consequences.

What were you taught about people who were different from you? Do you still believe this? Why or why not? If not, what made you change your mind?

Sometimes I still laugh at one piece of bigotry that a family member tried to pass on to me: that Jews had horns on their head. I never believed it, nor did I embarass myself by asking school mates to show me their horns. It was only in college that I found out how this bit of "urban legend" came about: as I studied Art History, I noticed a statue of Moses by Michelangelo. Moses is stunningly executed but also with horns on his head. Through my research I found out that Michelangelo relied on a translation of the Bible that mis-interpreted the Hebrew term karan (meaning "radiate light") to mean "grew horns" (similar to the Latin "cornutam").

Thankfully I am a true skeptic and live up to my first name. If I read or hear something which just doesn't fit for me, I am off to research it and try to get as many facts and differing points of view as necessary. My mother taught me to do this and to not accept at face value what people say.

Were there households in your neighborhood or community where a couple was co-habitating rather than being legally married? Were there gays and lesbians in your community? Or did you grow up in such a diverse household? What was your family's or the community's reaction to this?

Being gay I have a somewhat advantaged perspective on the LGBT issue. I am also the only self-identified (I dislike the term "out") homosexual in my family of over 100 living relatives. My family overall has been very accepting (I agree with Miriam on the use of the word "tolerant") and to be honest it is a non-issue. My partner (I'll call him Fang) and I travel home and visit relatives and are invited to gatherings and celebrations just as any couple would be. Since I made the decision in 1983 to be open and honest with my family about my sexuality, I am amazed at not only how far my family has progressed, but how the rest of society has as well.

But it wasn't always easy. While my family and work environments were always free from any discrimination or bigotry, there were times when school and even living with neighbors was difficult. Many don't know that for a short time in my life, I was a seminary student, and an openly-gay one at that. I was involved with a denomination that permitted LGBT people to practice ministry and thought, at that time, it was a career to pursue. I had my challenges but the seminary supported me 100 percent. And more recently, Fang and I were in a difficult situation with a neighbor involving some hateful behavior directed towards us. We eventually had to move out of our home but thankfully due to civil rights protections in Illinois, we were able to get a monetary settlement for what we endured for two years.

Do you remember the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s or the AIM movement of the 1970s? What about the Equal Rights Amendment or the AIDS epidemic? What were your feelings or thoughts on these matters? Did they affect you directly, and how?

I don't remember the Civil Rights Movement as much as I do the American Indian Movement or the push for the ERA amendment. And the AIDS pandemic was just beginning when I came out in 1983 and in the ensuing years it would affect me directly. I lost so many friends and acquaintances that I stopped writing names in ink in my address book. I couldn't stand to see so many people crossed-out especially when they were less than 40 years in age.

What do you remember about meeting someone for the first time who was different from you in some way? What preconceived ideas were dismantled as you got to know this person as an individual, rather than as a symbol of your differences?

While I didn't have any pre-conceived notions as to others who were different, I relished the opportunity to meet people of different races and faiths. Going to college at age 17 was an eye-opener for me, especially since it was in a culturally diverse city - Washington, DC. We all think of it as the capital of the United States but once you live there, you realize how many different cultures and faiths inhabit that area. I worked in jobs with many Ethopian, Somalian, and Filipino people - I enjoyed celebrating various holidays and sharing different foods.

If you are a person considered "different" by the mainstream, do you have a successful experience to share where you were able to change someone else's preconceived ideas about your diverse situation? How did that occur?

Being a "different" person (and I don't mind that term), I think being able to convince my family that I was still the same old Thomas has been my biggest success. I am able to show them that not everyone defines success as having a wife and children and that the word "family" represents different concepts to different people. I also believe that living my live in an honest fashion is the best testament to success - it helps to break down people's prejudiced views as to what a gay person is or how they act.

Are there any oral histories in your family about being able to vote or own land or other civil rights for the first time? What about stories were rights were denied? Are there events in your family history where ancestors or relatives triumphed over social injustice? Were any of your ancestors social reformers? Are you?

So far, my research has not turned up many social reformers or "agitators" as I like to call them. And then there is me. During the 1990s I was very involved with several movements including increased funding for AIDS research. I also was part of a group that stood vigil at the funeral of Randy Shilts (author of And The Band Played On) against actions threatened by the Rev. Fred Phelps and other members of the Westboro Baptist Church in Topeka, Kansas.

Women's China Painting in the 19th and Early 20th Centuries

What started out as a simple Ebay purchase of a bowl that held my fascination, soon turned into not only a collecting obsession, but an education in the subect of women and the arts. So what is it, what is the history behind it, and how does it relate to my own family history?

How Does It Fit In With My Family History?

The family history connection is more of a dotted line. I remember seeing similar pieces in my great-grandmother's china cabinet growing up. Unfortunately, most if not all were lost in the fire at her home in 1979. So when I saw this piece staring back at me from the porcelain lost and found on Ebay, ready to be adopted (for a price, of course), it brought back many memories. Years later, when I was cleaning out my mother's house in New York, I found other similar pieces that had been collected by my great aunt Ethel McCrickert Hannan.

What Is It?

Simply put, this is a hand-painted Limoges china bowl from the studio of Julius H. Brauer in Chicago dated ca. 1910. It was the first piece of hand-painted china that I had purchased and it started me on a journey of collecting similar pieces to the point of obsession. I am partial to the poppy pattern since the color scheme in the main rooms of my home is paprika and pale lemon. I am also a big fan of the Arts & Crafts movement of the early 20th century and this piece is obviously from that era.

How Was It Made?

Beginning in the 1870s, "blank" china pieces were imported from all over Europe, mostly the hard porcelain unique to the Limoges region of France. Art studios had been set up which employed china painting artists to decorate these items later purchased for the home. These bowls, vases, and other items were meticulously decorated by hand - there was no involvement of transfers or mass production. Some pieces were signed and some were left unsigned.

While the Limoges manufacturers had their own in-house studios, most notably Havilland, many blanks were shipped to the United States to be decorated in studios across the Atlantic. It has been said that over 18,000 barrels of Limoge pieces were exported to these shores during the mid to late 19th century alone!

Most of the decorating studios in the United States were located in Chicago - in fact by 1912 there were 49 decorating studios which employed artists working with these blank china pieces. By 1916, the number had jumped to 102. Some of the more famous studios were Pickard, Julius H. Brauer, Whites Art Company, Pitkin & Brooks, and Stouffer.

Who Were These Artists?

Beginning in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, not many of these studios would employ female artists. Yet some of the most collectible pieces have been executed by women. How did this come to be?

China painting became a very popular pastime beginning in the 1870s and lasting up until World War I when the importation of Limoges blanks was very limited. Just like knitting parties today, women very rarely painted china alone. Groups would gather weekly to work on similar pieces and show off their handiwork. China painting became so popular that even Caroline Scott Harrison, wife of President Benjamin Harrison held such gatherings at the White House.

Blanks could be purchased at fine department stores and studios by these women who probably had enrolled in a local china painting club or society. It was there that they would take painting lessons and progress to completing entire sets of china service.

Did Your Ancestors Paint China?

Unfortunately women artists who painted china and executed some fascinating pieces were considered "amateur" as compared to the "professional" artists of the various studios. Yet the majority of pieces that still exist were more likely painted by an ancestor rather than purchased at a studio. I have several pieces that are signed by women, some including dates, that attest to this particular art movement.

So, right about now, how many of you are getting up to go look at your china cabinets for any hand-painted pieces that could be a connection between you and that female ancestor artist?

Note: a warning to those of you who want to begin collecting hand-painted Limoges, especially the pieces by "amateur" artists. Many items for sale in antique shops and on Ebay might be faked - from the porcelain blank down to the painting. One trick is to actually use transfers but then add some hand-painting so that the stamp "hand painted" can be used on the bottom. Familiarize yourself with the various marks, the artists, and the types of pieces. A good start is looking at the various guides posted at Ebay or purchasing a book containing identification marks and methods of determining whether a piece is true or fake.

This post has been written for the 3rd edition of the Cabinet of Curiosities hosted at Walking the Berkshires on January 21, 2008.

The Weather Gets Colder - That Means Only One Thing . .

. . . more genealogy work! During the summer, who wants to be stuck inside going through websites or images? Well, given our weather here in Chicago this past summer, there were days when I relished being in my condo with the central A/C running!

But now that more reasonable temperatures prevail (highs in the mid 70s, lows in the low 50's at night), I've been spending more time on genealogy. Plus I think it is great to take breaks every now and then. Those of you who work on genealogy know what I'm talking about - you will bang your head against the wall trying to figure out a relationship or why your great-great-great grandfather married his wife's sister after his wife died (more common than you think). And don't you eventually put it aside and move on to another part of your family tree and come back to the vexing problem later? And often, I find that I have a different perspective and usually find what I am looking for.

I've made two great advances - both of which are not yet posted to the Austin database.

First, I have been able to locate information on my great-great-great grandmother Catherine Sullivan O'Keefe. The "Sullivan" is the important part - I never had her maiden name and had no information whatsover. All I had were some pictures of her from about 1917 (see above) taken at the family home on Elm Place in the Bronx.

Catherine Sullivan was born in Albany, New York in 1837 and died in the Bronx in 1928. That means she was about 90 or 91 when she died (longevity runs in my family but alas, mostly among the women). It is unknown when she married David O'Keefe but she spent most of her entire life in Lowville, NY. I was then able to trace her parents, Daniel Sullivan and Mary Griffin Sullivan who both immigrated from Ireland, probably during one of the early potato famines around 1830.

Second, and this one has me so psyched, I have been able to trace my 4th great-grandmother on my mother's side - her name is Margaret De Wandelaer. This one has perplexed me for well over a year - I was giving up hope and figured she was dropped down upon Fonda, NY by aliens or gypsies or alien gypsies. The problem was her last name.

The 1916 printed family genealogy listed the name as DE WANDERLEAR. I knew through my research that there were many DE WANDELAERs in upstate New York especially around Albany and Schenectady. And the Genalogical and Family History of Northern New York by William Richard Cutter published in 1910 said that she was the daughter of "one of the sons of Johannes De Wandelaer" born in 1756. So it could have been Pieter De Wandelaer or Herman[us] De Wandelaer. As luck would have it, I knew using early census records would be a challenge since most records only listed the head of household by name and didn't list the wife and children until 1850 or 1860 (see, again, women didn't count!).

First, I headed over to the Records of the Dutch Reformed Church of Albany, New York 1683 - 1809 and scoured through baptismal records looking for either a Pieter or Herman De Wandelaer who had a daughter Margaret. I was able to locate a Johannes De Wandelaer who had married Gerritje Gansevoort in 1777 in Albany, New York. From there I was able to locate Pieter and Herman De Wandelaer and get information on their births, baptisms and marriages. Herman De Wandelaer married Rachel Ten Eyck and they had a daughter Margaret born in 1809 which matched the age of my Margaret De Wandelaer.

Well it took me much of one weekend to work through early census records using the Ancestry website (for which I have a subscription and believe me it is well worth it) where I discovered this: the early census records showed the family last name as WANDLER. I've come to the conclusion that a) the early census takers probably had a limited education and their writing skills were not the best; and b) those being counted probably had a limited education as well. The census taker probably only heard the "wandler" part and by 1840 or so it was pronounced more as an English surname than a Dutch ("de van de lar") surname. Funny since the original name is acutally French as in DE FRONDELAC.

So, now I've added five or six more generations off of this one person. And the tree continues to grow.

History + Women = It Sucks

I am amazed as I am working some of the genealogy information of my ancestors, namely the New York Dutch families such as Putman, Mabie, VanAntwerpen, etc. how royally screwed women were back in the late 1600s and early 1700s. Even the turn of the last century such as 1916 when The Descendants of David Putman and His Descendants was written by G.W. Putman.

This is what I realize: the details offered for the birth, birth place, christening, and death of women is very scarce. However, the marriage info is always included as well as the information on offspring. But if their siblings are male, then there are reams and reams of information to the point of mind boggling minutiae.

So it appears that either a) information for women was simply not recorded or important or b) the researchers at the end of the 19th and beginning of the 20th century simply didn't care enough to delve into the same level of detail as they did for the male members of the family.

This reminds me of some famous quote on a woman's name being in the newspaper: when she's born, when she marries and when she dies. Sad.

An Answer Back

Well, I didn't expect this so soon, but I received an answer back from an email to a long-lost cousin, so-to-speak. Earlier today I went through a folder of old family emails and tried to re-establish contact with some cousins that I've not heard from (or I've not tried to contact) in years. Mostly I just updated them on Mom's condition, where I am and what I am doing these days, and of course asking for some info on recent births, marriages, deaths, etc.

One cousin, Ronald Mulholland, who is actually my second cousin once removed, is someone I remember growing up. He is the son of my aunt Dorothy Austin Mulholland(actually my 1st cousin twice removed) who I remember fondly - we went to her huge house on Elm Place in the Bronx (more about the family home on Elm Place in a later post) and often saw her at my great-grandmother's house in Grahamsville during the summers. A photo of Ronald Mulholland with Catherine O'Keefe Austin c 1942 is shown above.

Well, I received an email response back from him in only a matter of hours! I did a search on Google and landed on an alumni site for Marist College where he went to college. Luckily they had an email address and I figured I'd give it a chance. Ron wrote me back and said he wondered why his mail to my mother kept getting returned.

Mom was very close to Aunt Dorothy - in fact while I was cleaning out the house this summer, I found a picture of the last visit Mom made to see her in Wheeling, West Virginia. Not soon after Aunt Dorothy passed away.

I remember all the older women in my family - Aunt Dorothy and her dog Tilly, Aunt Loretta McGinnes Murtha(my great-grandmother's sister) and her Parliament cigarettes, Aunt Ethel McCrickert

Hannan who lived in Ft. Myers, FL and many more. These women were wise beyond their years, very opinionated - which was cool, and really held the family and its traditions together. Gosh, I miss them.