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Showing posts with label Sepia Saturday Post. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sepia Saturday Post. Show all posts

Friday, January 24, 2014

212 Sepia Saturday Snow shoes and snow, yes!

Serendipity thrives betwixt  me and Sepia. Last weekend I had my first experience whilst spending this winter here in the Minnesota arctic north, I snow shoed.  I  have been curious about snow shoes ever since we moved here and well what better time than now to try it our while we are in the midst of polar clippers, non stop frigidity and  some sunshine on diamonds in the snow. Fresh powder snow doesn’t just look beautiful, it also swallows noise, making everything impossibly silent. But walking through deep snow is so strenuous that it’s nearly impossible to enjoy this simple pleasure — unless you strap on a pair of snowshoes.  Now  for the Sepianness, I found lots of information about snow shoes, that I never knew.  For example, did you know they were likely invented in northern Asia perhaps 6,000 years ago and then brought across what was at the time the Bering land bridge between Siberia and Alaska by the native Inuits and Native Americans when they migrated.  Because the materials don't last that long, there is no archaeological evidence. An interesting website is:  http://kaufmann-mercantile.com/wooden-snowshoes/  

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While these are not  Sepian photos by age but are current, taken right here in La Crescent, MN on January 18 and 19,  2014, this is me on my first snow shoe attempts.  I learned that it is easier on top of icy or packed snow, which provides a base for he shoes to glide, so it was far easier in the woods behind our home.  I shared more photos of my expedition on Facebook.  Here I am  strolling along the side of our home, as I came up the hill.  This year I believe I am wearing out my parka it has been arctic frigid and we have not been able to snowbird south as weather is not giving a break now. 

Me in the front of the house atop the mounds and hills of snow
On our visit to the Anchorage Alaska museum in August where we spent merely half a day and could have spent much more time  had massive  exhibits of the old wooden snow shoes used by the Natives. When I read that the Inuit and Athabascans, Algonquin, Attikamek, Cree, Naskapi, Labrador and Iroquois mastered the development of snowshoe making using various wooden weaving, I reflected on today's  snowshoes of different materials.   

Wooden and woven Native American snowshoe

Although snowshoes were also used in Europe, mainly in the Alps and Scandinavia, their development was not as sophisticated as of those across the Atlantic. In Europe there was a stronger focus on the development of skis to facilitate walking and traveling through deep snow. The snowshoe, in its advanced form, was introduced in Europe only when the first settlers brought them back from North America around 1600.  

My  snow shoes which I rented for the weekend were made of sturdy but very light weight aluminum with web fasteners and grippers  on the bottom. 
Sideways shot of my foot in the snowshoe
 It is almost easier, I believe,  to cross country ski to glide quickly so I can understand why skis were used in Europe and other parts of the world. Snow shoes require a lifitng of the feet and perhaps it is a bit more tiring.   Yet snow shoes played an integral part of the settling of the United States and were extensively used by the trappers and fur traders in these northern states.   Settlers usually bought their snowshoes from the Native Americans. Ironically, that a Native American invention helped European settlers spread across this continent.
Uncle Carl and horse drawn sleigh

To keep the Sepia theme, I share photos from the late 1930's in Pennsylvania and while not of snowshoes, they reflect winter and the one horse open sleigh.  These are of my late Uncle Carl and an unidentified man who were sleighing to get around and it looks as though they had at least one stop for adjustment to the horse or harness.   
Something needed fixed and it looks like
the horse stood for the repair
 
Was it really such fun to ride in a one horse open sleigh?
This  is my contribution to this week's theme.  To see what others in the international realm have contributed, go to the site at this link  http://sepiasaturday.blogspot.com/2014/01/sepia-saturday-212-25-january-2014.html

Friday, January 17, 2014

Sepia Saturday 211 World War I Unknown Soldier in my family

Sepia Serendipity is fully functioning this week; I was  puzzling once again over the photo of the unidentified young man in WWI  attire and what is the prompt for the week but World War I, the Great War as it was called then and now.  I believe I have shared my strange soldier before here but do so again along with the post card in the same album.  

The postcard features doughboys singing "Over There." A historical film clip on  YouTube  shows the US war declaration as Bill Murray, scratchy sound sings Over There. 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wbggEGUaE28

On the morning of April 6, 1917, newspaper headlines across America announced  that the United States had declared war on Germany after years of attempted neutrality. While most people who read the newspaper headlines that morning tried to comprehend how their lives were going to change, one man started humming. That may seem like an odd reaction to most people, but not for George M. Cohan, actor, singer, dancer, songwriter, playwright, and Broadway producer who had composed hundreds of songs, famous songs as “You're a Grand Old Flag,” “Give My Regards to Broadway,” and “I'm a Yankee Doodle Dandy.” So it is not completely surprising that Cohan's reaction to the morning headlines was to hum. By the time Cohan arrived at work that morning, he already had the verses, chorus, tune, and title of  "Over There." It  was an instant success, selling over two million copies by the end of the war. Perhaps the most popular version of "Over There" was sung by Nora Bayes, but Enrico Caruso and Billy Murray also sang renditions.

The song is about the "Yanks" (i.e. Americans) going "over there" (i.e. across the Atlantic) to help fight the "Huns" (i.e. the Germans) during World War I. In 1936, Cohan was awarded the Congressional Gold Medal for writing the song. 

 The chorus lyrics:
Over there, over there
Send the word, send the word over there

That the Yanks are coming, the Yanks are coming
The drums are rum-tumming everywhere


So prepare, say a prayer
Send the word, send the word to beware

We'll be over there, we're coming over
And we won't come back till it's over over there.
Over there.


The mysterious soldier is a full Sepia with only 1919 written on the back.  I have wondered about him ever since I found this wonderful album kept by my grandmother and late aunt.  Many photos lack names; they never thought so many years down the road I would be pondering.  Because he is in the section of photos of my late 2nd cousin and  my Grandma Rose's niece Annie Ostroski Kaluzny Gorlewski. I strongly suspect he may be Annie's first husband, Frank Kaluzny.  I found Frank's WWI Draft enlistment on Ancestry.com dated  June 15, 1917.  It was interesting that the handwriting on that card noted his citizenship "by virtue of father's papers."  Frank was born in Austria Poland) in 1887 and immigrated to this country with his parents. He died in 1927 in a Base Hospital and his grave marker identifies him as Private, U S Army.  He and Annie married August 1919 and had two sons Raymond and Frank. Annie who was my grandmother's favorite niece  said she had been a widow before she married her 2nd husband.  So salute to this man and the many millions of others who served in that War that was to end all wars.  Would that it had.  

This is my Sepia post for the week.  Visit the site to see what else is on about history and the Great War and other posts this time.   I hope this link works, strange Blogger again

http://sepiasaturday.blogspot.com/2014/01/sepia-saturday-211-18-january-2014.html

Friday, January 10, 2014

Sepia Saturday 210 Old books, photos and memories

This week's prompt appeals to me because I am a book lover a genealogist, amateur historian, and love to share family stories here.  It symbolizes memories drawn from discoveries over the last several years, with the passing on of elderly relatives, finding those old photos or documents was the good in the grief...just wish there were someone to ask about those new to me treasures. Wistful too because there will be no more discoveries in the backs of closets of relatives who have completed their earthly journeys, all having gone on now.  Well, I might rediscover something again here among our troves of albums and photos, something perhaps forgotten that reveals itself  while I hunt for something else.

Today I'm sharing a few photos from Jerry's album that was kept by his paternal grandmother, Emma Morrison who lived in La Crosse, Wisconsin.  When Emma died in 1987 at age 91, one of the aunts thoughtfully sent the album to us in California.  When that brown manila envelope arrived in the mail it was a most welcome surprise for which we remain grateful today.   Remember these, black papers with the  corner holders for photos, tied with a cord...Jerry was born in 1937 so this album, handsome still today,  is at least that old and if Emma had it before that date we will not ever know.  It's   brown leather with gold embossing, an iconic Indian in canoe, so reflective of Wisconsin, this Midwest, historical hearkening  to the era of fur traders.  In genealogy research we have learned a lot more about Emma Walker Morrison than Jerry ever knew, she was born in 1896 in Iowa in what was "Indian Territory" to a mother, Eva Mae who would abandon her and her sisters sometime before their father, William Walker, died.  Eva Mae herself  was a fascinating colorful character for those times, a brazen woman, she married many times, chased men it seems and  traveled or roamed  a wide area, from Iowa,  Illinois, Wisconsin, Indiana, the entire midwest.  But that is another long tale to be told later.  


Inside of the album cover is a  careful record of Jerry and his lucky number "7" in white ink, Emma's writing, she began in August when her newest grandson was 3 months old.  Jerry was so amazed when  he received this,  things he never knew.  His mother and father separated and divorced  and his mother as I have written before would not win motherhood awards and was not really playing with a full deck.  When we told her about this gift, she was quite snippy, I suppose she wondered just what the in laws might have written about her, but the Morrison's were not into gossip.  Emma was quite the woman, volunteering over 8000  hours to the Veteran's Administration in Tomah Wisconsin, we learned in her obituary.  She was an animal lover and requested memorials be to the Humane Society when she passed on.  
Jerry was in touch with his Morrison grandparents, especially Emma.  Here is a photo page from the album, appently Emma had a cat named Tom, and she was amused to have a photo of Tom and Jerry.  The photo on  the right that shows Jerry as a baby with his parents.  Emma labeled  all photos carefully.  76 years later the album is a testament to her efforts.  
Album page

The last  two photos  are of Jerry with Emma, the first from the album, 1937 and the last in 1980 one of our trips to this area, he always went to see his grandmother Emma Morrison.  I am glad that I got to meet her. 




This is my Sepia Post.. Blogger is acting up so the photos are not labeled individually. To see what others are sharing go to the Sepia site at http://sepiasaturday.blogspot.com/2014/01/sepia-saturday-210-11-january-2014.html

Friday, December 20, 2013

Sepia Christmas week 208 Dec 21--27, 2013

A very Merry Christmas and  Happy blessed New Year to all Sepian colleagues wherever you are in the world this season..finally a prompt that I just could not allow to go unanswered....

Every year with the postage increases, now at 46 cents, I consider "this year fewer Christmas cards to send out."  All the old folks who most enjoyed them are all gone now and today the people who keep in contact with us do so by text, email, Facebook or by cell phone. Sure the total number is down, yet annually, there are some with whom I  am compelled to exchange cards and this year a total 59 recipients indicates the number is growing again adding folks we meet on our travels and well, we live across the country from our many friends who have also moved around.  We are mobile in retirement. 

I have fully realized this year that our treasured friends are really our family.  This year we had a photo card pulled together to commemorate our Alaska adventure and our 46th year of marriage; really could not have done it without the expertise and software of a local friend, Ann who was able to crop out, edit and fix our photos to display just the two of us.  In every photo we took in Alaska, no matter how hard we tried to avoid it,  someone would be there, I suppose that happens on tours.  Fortunately, Ann has professional skills and software so she performed magic making our 2013 card just the two of us.  Because we only bought 40 of these at 90 cents each, some received another annual greeting card.  But here, Sepians is our 2013 greeting, which I share with you.   



Left to right starting on top, first  Jerry next to an Alaskan moose carved and assembled from trees, the two of us at the sign entering Alaska after a trip deep into the Yukon (Ann cropped 30+ others out of this), bottom it was raining in Anchorage when we arrived, middle is somewhere near Fairbanks (again Ann deleted all the extra people) and last is in Syracuse New York in May at the Good Sam Rally on our way to the rehitching ceremony where despite the thousands of couples renewing vows in a mass ceremony, we did not beat the Guinness records...ah well, this was 46 years for us and time to renew vows.  Here's my little secret, at our 1967 ceremony I was so fraught that I never said "I do"  and here in May, a potty call which was far from the seating was uppermost in my mind, so I did not say "I do" again..Jerry laughs and reminds me that the third time is the charm..

But there you have it a Very happy holiday season however  and whatever you do or don't celebrate, warm wishes....until 2014 Sepians.  The following is the link to our community of Sepians....warmest wishes, bloggers all.  http://sepiasaturday.blogspot.com/2013/12/sepia-saturday-208-christmas-new-year.html


Friday, November 22, 2013

Sepia Saturday 204 Life changing times

The week's prompt brings many thoughts and having been around the planet for 68 years, I have experienced many life changing events, some  heart warming, some tragic.  Here in the States we are marking 50 years post John F Kennedy's assassination; he was the first president I ever paid attention to and my generation's most loved politician.  Up until then it was innocence of beliefs, faith in all being right and no doubts about what might come next.  JFK's murder, for that's what it was is an event that cut a wide swath through my beliefs as a Catholic and girl of the 60's.  That particular day I was prone on a sofa in  the apartment in Sacramento, CA, fighting the most horrid morning sickness ever suffered by a pregnant woman, and yet stirred with the TV reporting what could not be happening in front of me.  As if it were not bad enough now that I knew I was in a big dilemma, across the country from all family and wondering WTH I could have been thinking to get myself into that pitiful, dreadful marriage anyway, my President was killed.   Ahhhh life twisted along from there some uphills, some flat times and some joy, some scathing downhill jolts. 

I did get out of that mess but found myself a young single Mom, determined to stay in CA and not to return to Pennsylvania and readily admit that my mother was right.  Oh I was 20, didn't I know everything?  Not so by a long way.   To my rescue then by rail road, journeyed my maternal grandmother aka Baba Rose alone across the country from Pennsylvania,  to stay with me, help me with the baby, get me on my feet  and provide  the love she had all my life. She did not scold nor say "we all told you so....." No none of that, she was absolute strength and support.  I regret that perhaps I did not appreciate her as much as I should have although she knew I loved her very much.   

Here she is in December 1965 with Steve who is  18 months old.  We were all surviving on very tight finances; I was working two shifts at McClellan AFB and she was encouraging me to go back to school, to finish college because she knew I was too smart to stay below what I could achieve.  Above all, she told me, "you will marry again, but next time be careful, don't jump into anything and choose a good man; you learned a lesson, don't  ever forget it."  Very prophetic as Jerry would come along shortly after she left.  Wish she could have met him.   

Rose was already only 70 years old here but looks much older.  She was the grandmother who raised me; she and the family helped Mom, her daughter who was a WWII widow pregnant with me.  Rose had experience in spades with us young Moms.  She stayed less than a year before returning home to Pennsylvania.  She helped me get my head on straight and never criticized my decision to stay there in California, on my own.  She said, "You'll make it, you are smart and pretty and headstrong, don't look back, look ahead."  Before she departed for home, she found another grandmotherly woman who would babysit Steve for pittances when I worked, and who would adopt us like family.  I don't know what would have happened without her, my grandma Rose who helped me in the crisis of a lifetime.    I did a lot of growing up then, fast, through a life changing time. 
1965 Steve at 18 months with his great grandmother,
my grandma Baba,  Rose Ostrowski Kochanowski
This has been just one life changing event for me.  To see what others in the Sepia community have to say this Saturday, click here to the site http://sepiasaturday.blogspot.com/2013/11/sepia-saturday-204-23-november-2013.html

Friday, November 15, 2013

Sepia Saturday 203 Doorways and beyond



While looking for doorway photos for this week's prompt, I found  two in my  file of mystery  people ... Their identities were likely well known to my relatives who kept the photos, but here in 2013 as the surviving person, I have not a clue.  This first iconic photo taken as so many with someone out the door and very close to the step of the porch.  But another person is  standing in the doorway.  This was with photos from my late Aunt Marge and among hers from 1941-42 in Cleveland, Ohio.  She was better than most at identifying the people in her photos but not here.  It might be in early fall or spring, the woman has a coat over her shoulders and open toe shoes, purse along side, ready to  come or just returning.  A story waiting to be told.  Aunt Marge lived in Cleveland when she was a young single hair dresser before marrying Uncle Carl and some of the time when he was away in the Army during World War II.   

The second photo is from Pennsylvania and while not in the doorway, behind her ,the lady is on the porch. This was in my late Aunt Virginia's collections..It could be my grandmother's sister, Mary who lived across the river from us in a house with a big porch. I've written before about Sunday's with my Great Aunt Mary and the Janosky clan.    The back of the photo has labeling which  identifies it as a "Kodacolor Print, Week Ending May 26, 1956."  Whoever she is, she means business and might be  just leaving  for church;  my grandmother and her sisters usually display that down to business look in their photos.   She has likely just come out the door, dressed in hat and coat, while the photo is fading the hat and coat were a pink shade.  While Aunt Mary might have splurged on a new spring coat, I cannot imagine it would have been any color but a basic serviceable dark, color, navy perhaps, but pink?  

Finally another photo that is more meaningful to me today with both Mom and our son, Steve gone.  Not a doorway, which they have passed through but still posed in front.  Taken in July, 1972 in Pennsylvania at my old home; Steve and I  were there for a visit from California, it was for my 10th high school reunion.  Steve is on the front steps and Mom, grandma, is behind on the edge of the porch. Her hands are on her hips while Steve has hung his thumbs inside his pockets.  It is pre-digital photo ability and not close enough for good detail, that we could get today.  I am also surprised that this was developed in black and white, but it was with Mom's things and likely taken by Barney, her 3rd husband.  They have both just come out the door; we hardly ever used the front door to that house where I grew up, we came in from the side or back doors only.  The front door opened into the living room and we would not have thought of entering there, that was for company.  By the way, relatives also came to the side or back doors, so it had to be someone special to come to the front door.  But after I left home, and would return to visit,  Mom allowed use of the front door.  Still, I would revert to the side door mostly, it's what I was used to, an old habit.  This is one of the few photos I have of the old home which is still standing but is owned by a nephew with whom I have no contact.  He has changed the house color and I know not what else, because after Mom passed in 2004 and Jerry  and I stayed there for the funeral,  I have never again been inside the house. 

From doorways and unknowns to dear departed loved ones, this has been a Sepia Saturday post.  To see what others in our international community are sharing this week, use this link

Friday, November 8, 2013

Sepia Saturday 202 Cloche hats and the same couple or?

Oh what a treat, I offer this week a couple unknown to me who posed sans camera and whose photo was  amongst those of my late Uncle John Irwin, grandson of the  very late JR Irwin last week's post.  I have suspected that this small photo might be of  Uncle John's parents, Ned and Jessie Irwin....but since it was not labeled, I am unsure.  If it is it is only one of two photos I know of Ned, his father.  The cloche hat and the auto in the background make me think of the early 30's.  I cannot identify what she is holding in her hand, a treat?  He appears to have a cigarette hanging from his mouth and his left arm has moved blurring the photo...And what's up with the man behind them?. Ned and Jessie traveled extensively, Europe and especially England, are they off to parts unknown or just returning?  Why is he bare headed when all other photos of this era have men in  hats?  She appears bundled up in trench coat and hat and he is sans overcoat too?  So many questions and suppositions, for this photo of mystery to me today a couple out and about, no beach no camera..

To see what others have shared this week, click here to the International Sepia site....
http://sepiasaturday.blogspot.com/2013/11/sepia-saturday-202-9-november-2013.html

Friday, November 1, 2013

Sepia Saturday 201 The Irwin Houses

Today's theme is houses while I had many thoughts, I'm sharing a couple that  I have mentioned in the past, the magnificent mansions of the Irwin family, of Freeport and Clinton,  Pennsylvania.  Here is the only photo I have of the magnificent Glen Irwin, the country estate built by John R Irwin,  the wealthy grandfather of my late Uncle John R Irwin namesake of the grandfather and who married  my late aunt Virginia, Mom's sister.  More on Uncle John elsewhere on this blog.  
From a newspaper photo run in 1960 to celebrate 100 years
 history in the Valley
Here is the summary the Leader Times of Kittanning, Pennsylvania included with the above photo you can click on the photo below to enlarge and read about Glen Irwin.  

It is a life of grandeur, the likes of which would have been a wondrous tale, a lifestyle which I imagine but have only read  about in history and novels or seen in glorious movies.  That same article continued about the tragedy and the aura of the mansion and Mr. Irwin.  Stories vary but Uncle John told me that his grandfather dropped dead in the doorway as he entered the mansion the day before they were to move in, August 18, 1895. JR would never live in the fabulous Glen Irwin whose name he had carefully chosen. At one time he owned all the land that has long since become Clinton Township.   What the following article does not reveal are the tales about  the widow Irwin, Margaret Truby Burns, aka Maggie, who was Uncle John's grandmother. She was a former washer woman, previously widowed and of great size and girth who snagged the  widower John Irwin shocking the likes of all society.  He was  a wealthy  tycoon who increased his fortune hauling iron ore on the Great Lakes and building a railroad in the last decade or so of the 19th century.    

By 1942, Maggie's daughter from her first marriage, Susan Burns had fallen, broken a hip and died bequeathing the property to her niece, Mrs Margaret Matthews of Huntsville, Alabama who sold off the  estate completely to pay taxes.  Glen Irwin was put on the auction block. We are fortunate to have inherited several wonderful antique pieces from the Glen Irwin era and home and if these pieces could talk, they might protest this much less magnificent home where they abide today in Minnesota; on the other hand, I can only fantasize about the servants who kept the fancy curlicues on the furniture gleaming back then; today all that dusting falls to  me and I doubt I do as meticulous a job  as  the paid help did back in the day.  Glen Irwin was bought by a lumberman but demolished many  years later,  reportedly he razed  the grand old home and built a  much smaller single level home in place, then sold off the land  to other builders. 

The Irwin's had a town home too built in about 1888 which still survives in Freeport, Pennsylvania but has become the Redmond funeral home.  This 1912 photo is from the Valley Dispatch, 1969 Special edition. The Irwin's are reported to have purchased this for $8400 in 1907.  When he married Margaret aka Maggie, she insisted on returning from Painesville, Ohio to her old hometown of Freeport  to show off her catch of the millionaire JR and to impress  the townspeople.  It was said that Maggie weighed 400 pounds, huge for the times and certainly beyond portly today, but he doted on her and commissioned a  carriage  specially built  with a double door to accommodate her girth and so that she could enter and exit in a grand manner.  Reportedly  despite her size she was loved and admired. She had an especial fondness for carriages and owned several including the surrey of President William McKinley, after his assassination   Uncle John  said that he remembered the carriage with the magnificent gleaming black horses adorned with solid silver bridles and harnesses and how they glistened.  After JR's sudden death Maggie withdrew quietly from most activities and  developed a phobia and incessantly built one house and another until her death in 1927.  
The Irwin town home in Freeport
We took these photos in 2008 in a visit to Pennsylvania while my late aunt Virginia was still alive.  Now a funeral home, imagine the tales this wonderful house could tell.

My Uncle John's father, Edwin B was adopted by Maggie and JR.  Edwin married Jessie Ayers, whom I knew as the grand old Mrs Irwin, or Grand Dame.  From my visits with her, I learned to sit  very properly and drink tea from the finest porcelain cups and saucers, some of which reside in my hutch today.  Edwin and Jessie ran a chicken hatchery in Freeport and I really did not enjoy having to visit with her, but as Uncle John would say, "Mother insists we bring you to tea today, Patty." When she insisted there was no way to not comply.  She gave me a magnificent old English tea pot along with a sizable check when I graduated from high school; I still have that lovely teapot today.   This last  photo  taken in 2008 is the last home for the Grand Dame, in Buffalo Township, Freeport, Pennsylvania.  It has not the same sense of grandeur it had it in it's day, but they ran the hatchery successfully and enjoyed traveling.  She survived into widowhood. died in January 1963 when I was away at college and was the only Irwin I knew besides Uncle John.  I spent many uncomfortable afternoons there,  a young girl and teenager, taking tea with the Grand Mrs. Irwin; she  had a fondness for me but because I always had to mind my p's and q's in her presence I dreaded the visits. Mom always alerted me to "be at your best with Mrs Irwin."   My aunt always  warned me, "don't fidget around her and be still,"  She was a formal lady, everyone I knew addressed her as Mrs.  I remember the inside of the home as dreadfully dreary; I wish I had paid more attention and knew more. 


Click here to visit other houses and posts by the international  Sepian community http://sepiasaturday.blogspot.com/2013/10/sepia-saturday-201-2-november-2013.html

Friday, October 25, 2013

Sepia Saturday 200 Rerun from Week 13 Frank Ostrowski

So here I sit at keyboard in Minnesota, USA looking back oh so fondly at how many years it has been since I first learned of and participated in Sepia posts. Sepia got me to blogging and researching my roots and afforded the way to use so many old photos. Now as we are celebrating our 200th week of Sepia posts, I have chosen my contribution from Week 13,  February 27, 2010.  I am excited about Alan's proposal to publish our collection into a volume for week 200. Here with very slight updating is  my Sepia Week 13 post about my great grandfather, Frank ( Francis) Ostrowski. 
Frank Ostrowski
Frank Ostrowski is my maternal great grandfather who was a coal  and sometimes iron ore miner in Poland, Prussia and in the United States. I knew my family was entirely Polish on all sides, (2013 note:but after submitting my DNA to Ancestry.com for analysis in 2012, I learned there is a very slight trace of Ireland or the British Isles as well, proof that the British Navy was everywhere in the world once.   I have found no connection to that Brit ancestry yet, despite periodic Ancestry.com suggestions of 8th or so cousins however many times removed).  However, I have learned a lot more since 2010 and my research indicates German, Prussian, and  Polish heritage matching with my study of  Poland's history that reveals how often it was invaded, conquered and annexed to another country.  Those Poles are a hearty stock though and do not go down without a  strong fight.

My grandmother and her sisters spoke Polish as did my mother and aunt; it was especially annoying to me as a child because I could not understand what they were saying. I know that was the reason they spoke it around me! But little by little I learned enough to eaves drop and discern the secrets.  I discovered Frank in 1977 when my great aunt Francie gave me the photo of the Ostrowski (aka Ostroskie) gathering which I posted last week on Sepia Saturday. I spent most of my childhood with my grandmother, Rose, Frank’s daughter from his second wife. How I wish I had known about him back then and could have asked my Baba (babacis in Polish) about her father. She talked very little about her family or else I paid little attention, but said that her father died of stomach cancer as did several others in the family; she feared that and sadly she died of pancreatic cancer and  diabetes; perhaps that was Frank’s diagnosis too.


Frank Ostrowski my maternal great grandfather
Coal miner, pick axe,  lantern hat and white shirt
After Aunt Francie gave me the gathering photo she also found this snapshot of Frank in his miner’s hat which I had copied and enlarged into a 5 x 7 Sepia print that has been prominently displayed in our home ever since.  It is a good conversation piece. My grandmother’s hand writing is on the back so at one time she had the photo but there is no date. I adore the old coal miner hat. Those were the most dangerous days of the mines and many Europeans flocked to the states to do the dangerous dirty work. My mother and aunt were of no help in verifying dates, saying that they never knew any grandparents but lots of aunts and uncles. Notice the clean shirt and the pick axe over his shoulder, arm crossed and holding hands with someone.  Likely this was not what he wore into the mine, but there must have been some special occasion to pose.  Someone really had to work at keeping that shirt clean and starched, back then, without today's automatic  washers and dryers.

Frank married three times and outlived two wives. By his photo he does not appear to be that handsome, but staunch, determined and I suppose an employed coal miner in America was a good catch for the times. If the historical fiction “A Coal Miner’s Bride “by Susan Campbell Bartoletti has any truth, the old miners wanted a woman to care for them. Frank fathered many children so that would also account for his need to remarry when one wife passed on. I notice he has one eyelid that droops and my grandmother had the same affliction; I in 2013 notice the same has happened to my right eyelid so that ultimately I will have to have that "fixed" or lifted..

The spelling of the name Ostrowski changes depending on who recorded it, Ostrowski, Ostroski, Ostroskie, etc.  I have two different years for his birth 1855 and 1857 and have been unable to confirm which is correct. However, the date of November 11 is certain making him my fellow Scorpio. Perhaps on our next trip to PA I can visit the Union cemetery in Arnold where he is buried and that may clarify date of his death. I should hope it will not add yet another date. (2013:  Note several years ago we visited the Union cemetery; the office building was not open but there was a note on the door that if one wished to locate a grave submit a letter in writing and pay a fee of $15 or more and allow several months.  We tried roaming and found some  caretakers who directed us to the area known as Polish hill, far in the back, with few gravestones, quite over grown with shrubs, etc.  No luck finding Frank's grave.  I suppose one of these days I will send that letter and the fee and wait and wait.  This is a strange thing as most older cemeteries are very helpful at no cost and willingly look in their records.) 

Frank was born in Prussia, Poland or Germany to Franz Ostrowski and Katazinea (Kor Catherine) Biegonski. who likely immigrated to America with the children, but the records of when and where they arrived are sketchy. His sisters were Kate, Mary and Pauline who is recorded to have been born in Cleveland, and a brother Maryn John. It is possible that they came through Canada, but I have hit a block wall with that as well.

Information shows Franz was buried in Detroit, Michigan in 1893 and Catherine died in 1910 and is buried in Cleveland, Ohio.  That date makes me wonder if the mystery Ostrowski photo taken in Ohio which I dated at about 1910 could have been for Frank’s mother’s funeral; perhaps confirming some of what my mother alluded to of a funeral in Ohio. ( I used that photo last week for my Sepia contribution; here is the link  http://patonlinenewtime.blogspot.com/2010/02/sepia-saturday-mystery-ostrowski.html  )While some of her research is flawed, I am grateful to my 2nd cousin who attempted to piece all this together with infrequent trips to PA. Maxine lives in Utah today is in poor health but as a member of the LDS church had access to many records. Still, I know she had some errors in the lineage and names and am skeptical of some of the information where dates show as "appx."   Maxine spent some time interviewing my grandmother in the 1960’s, but I know that my grandmother could be evasive as  were many of the Polish.  Whether they were untruthful to avoid attention or sometimes could not understand the questions,  I cannot determine. I know that they feared and respected government authority and as immigrants escaping tyrants or worse in Poland, or the old country, they kept quiet about many things. Someone usually knew someone back in “the old country” though and kept in touch, frequently sending some  cash along to help out.

Frank married his first wife Frances appx. 1877. Her last name is incorrectly recorded as my maternal grandfather’s last name on the documents so I know that is wrong. She was born in Poland and died appx 1888 in PA. They had three children Joseph (born 1878 with a twin John who did not survive the birth), John (the second son to be so named born appx. 1882), and Benjamin Frank who was distinctly given the middle name (born 1883 appx.) Years ago Sharon, a cousin I had not previously known, granddaughter of Benjamin contacted me. When I asked my mother and aunt about this, they shrugged their shoulders. While they knew nothing about a grandfather they recalled their aunts and uncles and made no distinction of their being half brothers and sisters.

Frank’s second wife who was my grandmother’s mother was Frances Swartz (aka Schwartz) whom he married about 1889. Frances came from Poland, was born in 1869, died in 1902 in PA. Sometime during this marriage they dropped the “w” from Ostrowski off and on. They had five children although I recall my grandmother mentioning that some of her brothers died when very young; there is no record of others. These were Walter  (born 1889 in Detroit, MI who went by Bill and changed the family name to Austin), Mary (born 1891 in Salamanca New York), Veronica Bernice (born 1892 in PA), and Rose (my grandmother born 1894) and Adam Maryan who died at birth in 1899 or shortly thereafter. My grandmother said he was her mother’s last child and did not live. I never referred to any of her sisters or brothers as "Great" they were all aunt and uncle to me; I  called them the Polish word for aunt, “czotczhe”.
Helen Sajikowski aka Sekoski, Frank's 3rd
and last wife

Frank married his third wife, Helen Sajowksi (aka Sekoski) in 1905. Their only child was Frances born in 1906 and was always known as the baby sister. Helen is seated next to Frank in the Ostrowski Ohio gathering, the photo I shared last week.  Helen would survive Frank who died April 19, 1915 making him either 60 or 62 depending on which birth year is correct.  My grandmother was fond of her step mother Helen and spoke well of her.   Whether Frank fathered more than nine children is unknown but each wife seemed to give birth annually. How they traveled around from Michigan, to Ohio, to New York and to Pennsylvania is a mystery; I suspect it was by rail car. They certainly did not own vehicles to drive. Tracing the different places the Ostrowski's moved from Salamanca area of New York, Michigan and Ohio before settling in Pennsylvania,  it appears Frank was following the mines in the heyday of coal mining; some how Pennsylvania must have offered him steady employment because he set roots there and his children did so as well. It was hard dirty work that the immigrants took on.  Today, his descendants are all over the eastern United States, Pennsylvania, New York, New Jersey, and on to Michigan and Ohio into Newfoundland, Canada as well as some in California. All my years living in California I was never aware of any Ostrowski relatives there. (2013 note:  A few years ago another contacted me from southern California where she still resides.  They spell the last name Ostroskie).  When I see the Ostrowski (Ostroski) name today I wonder if that is a shirt tail relation. Writing this piece I googled and found many; one example is Frank, a "falsely accused murderer in Canada" released on bail to his daughter. 


Coalfield in Pennsylvania, father,  Frank and son , John
Finally here is the last photo I have of Frank with his son, John. I found this in a drawer after my mother died in 2004. The back has the names and says "coalfield", but no date. My grandmother told that she learned to cook as a very young girl because her father was skinny but ate like a horse and said that her daughter, my aunt, Virginia took after him. Not all Frank’s progeny were as lean as this photo where Frank is poking John’s belly! John who was born in 1882 must be at least  20 years old here which would date this to 1902. I can only imagine what was being said.  But there he is my great grandfather, Frank Ostrowski, I wish I could have known him or learned more when my grandmother was alive. 
Click here to travel across the pond to the    http://sepiasaturday.blogspot.com/2013/10/sepia-saturday-200-26-october-2013.html   Sepia website and visit other posts from shared stories.

Friday, October 18, 2013

Sepia Saturday 199 Dressing up, down for around town 1983


1983 December almost ready to roll
            
Initially I considered some Halloween costumes for this week's prompt, as the day approaches, but while rummaging I found these of a happy time, almost twenty years ago now, when we lived in Newcastle, CA and when a friend and I decided to accompany the volunteer firemen on the  truck delivering sacks of candies to the children and the Indian homes. This was before the Indians went into the casino business and mightily enhanced their incomes after which they gave candies out at Christmas. This was known for a long time as one of Pat's brainstorms.   It was December 1983 and Shirley and I determined that the day could be brighter with our presence and the firemen could have an easier time if we volunteered to help with delivering the goodies to the homes.  It would end up with a stint in the little town where the children could talk to our Santa, portrayed by Bill Weber, a local grandpa.  
This little boy wanted the bag of candy but was not fond of
Santa and almost started to howl as this was snapped


Elf Shirley decorating the fire truck with tinsel before
we  depart for the local hillside
Just because it was California did not mean it was warm and sunny, in fact December could be quite cold, damp with the foggy over cast and downright cold hanging there off the back of that firetruck moving along with us  in the open air.  Santa Bill was a senior citizen and  smarter than Shirley and this (s)elf, he sat inside with the driver and waived through the open  window; he also kept warm and toasty with frequent nips from his flask.  The driver kept reminding Bill that he had to have children in town and not to empty the flask.  Bill did not heed that and kept himself merry.  Meantime, we elves and a couple firemen could hop off and on to the doors of the homes.  Really we hung on for dear life as the truck slowly wound down some very  bumpy, gravel, dirt and twisty country roads.  

 We dressed warm, layers and layers, but after an hour or so we were frigid and thankful to be done. I thought it would be fun and it was and we made quite the impression around town for some time but we did this one year only, one experience proved sufficient.   So here to the left is myself as elf, donning the down vest over which I would wear another down  jacket, underneath were layers of long underwear, a sweater, and a shirt, long underwear  on the legs and ski pants with some wonderful striped socks that I felt were just another whimsy. I had borrowed clothing form many people, especially the larger jacket I needed.  It had to be red or else the elfin affect would be diluted.  

 I tell you it was difficult to move, I waddled and I feared rolling down a hillside and not being able to stop with all this padding.  I suppose this was my equivalent of a fat suit.  Today I could have had a much more streamlined attire along with those packets of hand and toe warmers.  Well today this is a memory of younger times and not something I would consider.   I even made a top hat of sorts with ribbons and papers which did not fare well on the back of the truck, despite being attached  with numerous bobby pins and tied under my chin.  
Do I look puzzled or was I just frozen?


Don't ask me why but I thought I  would be more colorful if I had a red polka dot face, using lipstick.  I see looking back it might have more resembled some mysterious skin affliction. This was my first time elfing and it was fun to act out around the kiddies.  It was more fun after it was over and I could peel off all the layers and have a nip with Santa. Bill and Shirley are both gone now from this planet, leaving the elf to tell the tale.  

 Thankfully we prevailed.   These photos are fading somewhat as happens with those color ones from the  1980's.   So there you have it my dressing up as an elf, for some hours in time, back then.  

To see how others have dressed up their blogs with this Sepia  prompt, click here or above on the prompt photo to the international Sepia site.  
http://sepiasaturday.blogspot.com/2013/10/sepia-saturday-199-19-october-2013.html

Friday, June 7, 2013

Sepia Saturday 180 Life must be lived with fun

In this week's prompt, Alan  mentioned life and what about it?  I saw this quote recently,  "There are two great days in your life, the day you are born and the day you figure out why." The why is always the mystery isn't it?    I love our Sepia posts with glimpses of life and times here and there and what it meant and as in this prompt, what happened behind the scenes.  Today I went to my late Uncle Carl's albums, where I can always find something to share.  I laughed out loud at these photos, you will see why and maybe you will too.  I have written  a lot here about Uncle Carl, Mom's brother,  who took many photos and enjoyed himself  and life especially when he was out with the guys hunting, fishing, or just hanging out playing cards. 

It's 1982, turkey hunting season, sometime in the fall and it is time for the guys to arrive at their camp in Avonmore, Pennsylvania "outpost 39" as painted on Uncle Carl's sign in front of the place.  Avonmore is a borough in Westmoreland County, Pennsylvania, United States. The population was 820 at the 2000 census. Area: 1.6 sq miles (4.144 km) near the Kiskiminetas River.

 We have been watching TV reruns on the A&E cable channel of "Duck Dynasty" which is hysterically funny and is all the rage.  It is true to life  about a Louisiana family of sons, father, uncle, and their Duck Call business.  Uncle Sy is my favorite character in the series.   Well, Uncle Carl and his friends were far ahead of the Duck men.   They had their own comedy episodes.

What is this all about?  Turkey hunting?  Will the turkey fall down in hysterical laughter when this man appears?  I have shared here before, these men were out for fun...
On the back Carl wrote, "Cliff Andrea" I  do not know him. But this is funny!  Deer antlers with curls and an automobile insignia atop.. Fishing pole?


Sure enough, here they go on the turkey hunt. Notice the outhouse in the back...
and the serious hunter.  On the back Carl wrote Rich Debick & Cliff.  
 Is that a turkey call in Cliff's mouth?


At least one foul  was claimed evidenced above  by two more of the guys who look grizzly, camouflage and all. Some of the turkeys are huge and this one looks pretty big to me.  At least they are not wearing antlers on their head. 

I often buy  comical cards to send to folks on birthdays, etc.  I think I can use some of Uncle's photos to make my own...I need the right sentiments printed along with the photo.  

This  has been my Sepia Saturday post.  For more laughs and  so much more interesting information, check out the link to the host site where so many others have so much to share.
http://sepiasaturday.blogspot.com/2013/06/sepia-saturday-180-8-june-2013.html