Sepia Saturday 203 Doorways and beyond

Every doorway, every intersection has a story. 
Katherine Dunn 

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

http://sepiasaturday.blogspot.com/2013/11/sepia-saturday-203-16-november-2013.html

Pumpkin time

My healthy carrot pumpkin muffins

It's pumpkin flavor time of the year.  But, with my participation with great success in the nutrition program at the Y I have become a fat detective investigating all foods.  I am not baking  nor buying some pumpkin treats I most enjoy, pumpkin pie, pumpkin pie cake and Culver's pumpkin frozen custard although I am saving room for pumpkin pie on Thanksgiving and will build an allowance for that in my daily consumption tallies. 

 In my search for more pumpkin to fill the void, I remembered a healthy, low fat muffin recipe from several years back that used a can of pumpkin in a chocolate cake mix...but I did not want chocolate, I wanted pumpkin.  Why not  a healthy muffin, cakelike and moist, carrot pumpkin.  I seldom post recipes on this blog, but have been so happy about this modification that satisfied my pumpkin seasonal craving that I share it  today.    It is a very easy thing to put together.  These are good for a breakfast treat as well as a desert or snack.  The fat grams are minimal and since that is what I watch, it's a winner....

Here's my adapted recipe:

• 1 box butter pecan cake mix       Do not use a brand with pudding in the mix as it adds to the fat.. This is what I had in the cupboard but you could use spice, carrot or plain yellow cake.    The entire box of mix had only 3 grams fat and 170 calories.
• 2 eggs    The original recipe calls for 3 egg whites, lower fat content, but I do not like to throw away the yolks, so I use  the entire egg.  That adds 9 grams fat and 150 calories.
• 1 16 oz can of pumpkin     Not pumpkin pie mix, just plain pumpkin.  This adds only 2 grams fat and 160 calories.
• 1/2+cup very finely diced carrot bits  No fat appx 25 calories
• 1 teaspoon each  all spice, nutmeg, ginger, mace, pumpkin pie spice,  sugar    No fat  15 calories from the sugar
• 2 teaspoons cinnamon  No fat
• 3/4 cup water
• 1/4 cup rum  Can use brandy instead or omit liquor if you prefer and use 1/4 cup more water. No fat in rum but one ounce has 65 calories, so 2 oz is about right for 1/4 cup  adding 130 calories. 

Set carrots aside and beat  everything else together with mixer until completely smooth.  Add diced carrot bits  at last...and blend or stir well.  Fill 2/3 into paper lined cupcake tins.   Makes 20 cupcakes/muffins.   Sprinkle each on top with a dash of sugar, less than 1/8 teaspoon of sugar for each.  

Bake 350 degrees for 32-38 minutes.  My oven took only 32 minutes, but some take longer.    Test with toothpick in center to ensure done, when toothpick comes out clean  muffins are ready.  Cool a bit and serve...enjoy.

Each muffin has about 33 calories  and 1.5 grams fat.  My daily fat gram allowance is 33.  Jerry is not a pumpkin fan so I had plenty muffins to share  and have frozen others.   I can take out one, thaw and or nuke it in the microwave and good to go.   

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

Turkey Time

Grandma's old washer
adorned for autumn.  Foot
of the stairs 

The TV camel might say, "Guess what month it is?  GUESS WHAT MONTH IT IS?"  November, the most wonderful month of the year!  That's so because it is my natal month and this year I will be in the last of the 60's as I celebrate my 69th year here in less than a week.  I am very fond of November but as our current weather has turned a bit too frigid too soon, my outdoor walks have partially given way to physical activities at the Y.  The diabetes prevention program I started in September has been eye opening especially in nutrition and healthy eating changes and left me  20  pounds lighter, more than the weight I was tasked to lose, a  few more pounds that I felt would be just for good measure. No more though lest I begin to  appear too gaunt in the face. Now it's maintain, especially through the holiday eating season here upon us again, all too soon.  

This year since we will not snowbird fly aka depart until January, I pulled out my small collection of ceramic and glass turkeys and other decor.  I am still pondering whether or not to participate in the annual Thanksgiving day  5 K turkey trot run or walk across the river in La Crosse; I guess it will depend on the weather..it is an early AM event and 8:00AM can be chilly. The event's orange t shirts are quite cute and reward is a 5 inch  pumpkin pie at the end; the last 5 k Jerry and I did was in 2007 in the hills of La Crescent during Applefest, this route is flat.  We shall see.

Cherubic pilgrims

 I have not added to the autumnal Thanksgiving decorations for many years nor have I been tempted with today's all made it China trinkets.  I know if I could spot some older pieces in antique or thrift stores they might find a place with the rest of the collection.  There are three Fontanini figurines from my extensive collection that I amassed for years in California; although most Fontanini's are part of the Christmas village these three share space on the Thanksgiving  tables, Hannah, Judah and John.   They are  from Italy and all hand painted although a type of resin that has been the Fontanini specialty.  All were limited editions and long since out of production.  The tones of the colors are remarkable. 

Hannah another Fontanini

Fontanini figurines Judah in front and
John in back, holding sheaves

 

















And a few select turkeys beginning with the pair of salt and peppers that are the oldest, from Jerry's late  Aunt Marie; faded, paint wearing demonstrating the long years of prior use including a chip on one side of one. 

I think these were the first turkeys I purchased, nothing overly valuable but neither were they made in China.  I love these brilliant oranges and reds. Unlike Aunt Maries's these were never used as salt and peppers but they looked grand. 

I remember when I discovered this old gobbler turkey gravy boat at a thrift store in California, just the kind of thing that most folks might not care to store away and use once a year, but that's been it's task in our household ever since the late 80's.    The detail in the ceramic is truly artistic. 

And for today's post, last photo, not the total collection is a wooden hand painted Angel of Thanks from Penryn, CA  where a local gal and friends opened her eclectic farm home several times a year, selling their crafts.  I always went to each showing and always acquired something unique, very unlike  mass crafting I see so much of today where people buy precut things at Michaels or elsewhere and slap some paint atop hoping to make good money for less effort.  To her left is a small November angel who joins the Thanksgiving celebration.

.  There, for today, a post of gratitude for sharing another year on the blog and allowing me to share with you a few of my favorites.  

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

Senior slips or fidgety blips

The phone rang as I was checking one last thing on the computer, right  afterwards I'd  venture out into this grey dreary day for a walk.  I  have nearly conquered this cold that has bothered me a  few days and am really  missing my physical activities while my body demanded a couple days rest to recover.  We are waiting word from a roofer and the contractor  who did our addition in 2007 about a seeping in the roof line over the guest bedroom,  that happened some time ago, we are not sure when but noticed a spot on the ceiling when we had the windows washed this month.  Lots of things going on, but I am used to juggling  many things at once, being a multi tasker driven sort while Jerry is a one thing at a time no rush kind of guy.  I might have known it would be this kind of a day when  I immediately began to gather clothes for a washer load, as I walked out to the kitchen this AM.  Usually I first get a big glass of water, take my meds, and  make a cuppa, but with the cold and sore throat I've  resumed hot tea instead,  likely I am lacking caffeine alertness. 

As soon as I answered the phone and heard Barb, the dental  hygienist who cleans my teeth every six months say, "Pat I expected to see you an hour ago?", I shreiked "OH NO"   I completely forgot my dental appointment  which might not sound like that big of a deal but it is bugging me.  I had to call their office to confirm this appointment a couple weeks ago; it was on my calendars on my  tablet and smart phone, neither of which I use much or look at  while at home and it was on the kitchen calendar which I walk by mindlessly entering the kitchen.  Jerry sits right near the calendar reading the daily newspaper with his morning coffee and usually looks at it and can remind me of things but he said nothing today either.  Well Barb laughed to hear I had just flat blanked out and said, "senior moment?" Because I never miss my appointments, she called to be sure I was alright.  We rescheduled for a couple of weeks from now and I circled the day in red on the kitchen calendar....now I have to look at it.  

I  Googled and reaffirmed what I  have learned that such things can just happen; here's a  link to interesting info on  a Psychology today website.  http://psychology.about.com/od/cognitivepsychology/p/forgetting.htm

Ebbinghaus Forgetting Curve and Study

Forgetting like this or being absolutely mindless may seem no big deal, but to me whose Mom had Alzheimer's, I  worry.  I think many of us aging pre and  baby boomers worry about dementia, memory loss, and certainly the big A more than other generations.  We have seen more of it and are more aware.  Jerry shrugged and counseled, "well it's not fatal, no one died, go on about your day, be happy."  I did leave for my walk, out into the misty grey to clear my cobwebs and I started to hum  "don't worry, be happy" the old Bobby McFerrin . Released in September 1988, it became the first a cappella song to reach number one on the  Billboard 100 chart, a position it held for two weeks. It was a philosophy I never quite adopted but here it came back clear as a song.  

Maybe I shouldn't worry about my senior moment so much or is it a blip from my fidgety?  Must I begin to pay better attention, one thing at a time?  Certainly  I must look at that calendar each morning first thing.  Here in retirement I make my own schedule but live a rather uncomplicated routine.  Deliberate forgetfulness or mindlessness?  I have  heard that simply forgetting is nothing to show concern  about unless it becomes routine and or unless one does not immediately recall when reminded, as I did in horror today.  That's my Halloween fright 2013 style. 

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.

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