All My Ancestors

Despite the 7+ hour round-trip, this year Hubbo and I went to the Texas and Oklahoma panhandles to do a little ancestor acknowledgement on Memorial Day. The trip is just long enough to be almost too much for a day trip, but I can’t get comfortable with the idea of staying overnight in a motel in the town I grew up in. Dunno what that is about.

The two cemeteries we visited are both out in the country in two states. One is about 12 miles south of town. It’s the main cemetery for Ochiltree County, Texas, and was established when the town of Ochiltree was down there.

Ochiltree Cemetery, Ochiltree County, Texas

Lots of my family are there–both maternal and paternal grandparents, a great aunt and uncle who are the brother and sister of my grandparents, various cousins and other aunts and uncles. It’s a place I’ve gone all my life–I recognize more and more of the names. The gate was built with the help of the WPA, and there are still a few elms from that era hanging on as well. There are usually some calves grazing in the pasture to the north and some traffic checking the wells to the south. What can I say? Life in the panhandle goes on.

The other cemetery is about 15 miles northeast of town–really out in the country. It’s a small country cemetery in Beaver County in the Oklahoma pandhandle that’s been there for years. One of my great-great grandmothers was buried there in 1915, and before her, my grandmother’s younger 4 year old brother in 1911. It looks like it’s in a desolate place but to those of us who know the names from the community, it doesn’t seem quite so lonesome. In some respects, my maternal grandparents should have been buried there–they went to school in that community and lived nearby early in their marriage. But they wouldn’t make the decision–there was talk about rattlesnakes and sunburnt grass. So when my grandmother died first, my mom opted to have her buried in the cemetery where my dad’s family are buried, and where Mom and Dad would eventually be buried. It was an ok decision–they spent more time in the town in Texas than they did in the one in Oklahoma and lots of people from Beaver County are buried in Ochiltree Cemetery.

Anyway, out at Blue Mound, I noticed a lone tombstone this time next to a great grandfather, a great-great grandfather, and the above mentioned great uncle who’d died as a child. I don’t know why I’d never noticed it before but it was apparently a Civil War Soldier. It provided only his name, Peter O. Preuett, and the name of his regiment, Co. B, 1st Ark Cav. There were no dates for birth or death.

At first glance, I assumed he’d been a Confederate soldier–he’d served in Arkansas and was buried in Oklahoma. Probably part of the reason I’d never noticed him is that his name was not familiar to me–I focus on all the Andertons, Cromwells, Morrises, Padgetts, Pattisons–names I know. But when I started doing a little research, I discovered he’d actually been a Union soldier. I suppose I should have noticed the shield engraved behind the name and unit, but I was too busy operating in my world of assumptions. This man was born in Tennessee, lived in Arkansas at the time of the war, lived a bit in Texas, came to Oklahoma and died there. He must have died about 1908 or 1909 as best I can determine. He’s in the Choctaw Nation in Indian Territory in 1900, to enroll his wife on the Dawes Rolls according to some accounts. His widow and family are in Grand Valley Township in Beaver County, Oklahoma in 1910. By 1920, they are back in Texas.

I uploaded a photo to FindaGrave, but I think I’ll take a flag for his grave next trip out there.

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Today I was reading through the index to the oral histories at the library in the Research Division of the Oklahoma Historical Society. There are lots of categories of oral histories, but I wanted to see what the holdings were for the Germans from Russia. My maternal grandfather’s family immigrated from Russia in 1874, from an area called Volhynia. They came with with the wave of Mennonites that came to escape having to serve in the Russian army. They first went to Kansas, but when the land opened up in Oklahoma Territory, they moved south to what is now Goltry in Alfalfa County.

I didn’t find any of my family members interviewed–didn’t really expect to. Most of the interviewees appeared to be from families from the Volga region. But I remember I used to ask my grandad why he didn’t speak German because both of his parents were the first generation born in the US. His older sister, my great-aunt Edna once showed me her school books from when she started school–they were in German. She said she only went to that school one year. I asked her why and she said the German schools were closed after that.

When I went back to check the dates, I found that was about the time of World War I. That’s what I saw today in the interviews–the effect of WW I on the Germans who settled in Oklahoma. Several of the families lived out by Shattuck, in Ellis County, Oklahoma. Shattuck isn’t too far from where I grew up in Ochiltree County, Texas, and, in fact, lots of folks went to Shattuck for medical care at Newman Clinic. My family from Beaver County, Oklahoma, talked about it a lot. But what caught my eye today were the number of people who said that at the time of the first World War, they were not welcome in Shattuck. They were viewed as “clannish” and were not allowed to speak German–the merchants didn’t want them there.

As a result, they went just over the state line to Higgins, Texas. Higgins is in Lipscomb County, and is a little town with an interesting history. Will Rogers worked there as a young man, for example. Seems like I remember some connection between Higgins and Dan Blocker, aka Hoss Cartwright, but I can’t remember or find the connection just now.

Anyway, what I read in the interviews made me think about the current brouhaha about immigrants–of course people stick with the people they know–no matter if they’re from Germany or Mexico or Oklahoma. And the anti-German sentiment probably accounts for the discontinuation of the German schools my aunt started in.

My husband and I lived in Shattuck for a little over a year about 1976–I remember there were lots of German names in the community. And the grocery store sold some wonderful homemade German meat pies called bierocks. yum. Wonder if they’ll be selling tamales in that grocery store in another 60 years or so?

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Some things are just too good not to share. One of the joys of working in a library and doing research for others is the entertaining items encountered in old newspapers and other sources. I’m not related to anyone in this story as far as I know, but it begs to be shared.

from the Oklahoma Times Journal 24 July 1895

Stone’s Sudden Death

E.O. Stevenson of Mulhall started Saturday night to Ohio, where he took the body of James Stone of Stillwater, who died Friday. His death was a strange one. He lost his speech some time ago and regained it suddenly in the store the other day. At this he was so rejoiced that he capered around like a boy, got into a scuffle with another clerk and burst a blood vessel. He died in one hour. —Leader

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This is a photo of my great grandmother and grandfather and 9 of their 10 children. Great grandfather George Charley Cooper and great grandmother Sarah (Sally) McLendon Duvall Cooper are seated in front. The tall man on the right end is my great-uncle George Merrimon Cooper, and the woman next to him is my grandmother Rachel Cooper Osborne.

I assume this picture was taken at their home outside of Lubbock, Texas. There is a rural school system south of Lubbock that is named for my great-grandfather–he was a member of the school board in that area, advocated consolidation of several small schools, and evidently served with distinction. I do know that education was very important to him–most of his daughters had college educations and he had been a teacher as well. Sally had been one of students.

When I started trying to date this picture, I noticed that there was a young man on the left side of the picture. I knew that there were only two brothers in this family and one of them had died young. I grew up knowing Uncle George, so the other young man must be the other brother known as John D. His middle name was Duvall and he was the youngest of the clan. I knew from talking to another member of this family, my great-aunt Marge (Margaret Cooper Crabtree) that John D. had died in 1931 when he developed peritonitis after an appendectomy. So this photo had to be before 1931.

Another member of the family, Nannie Rush, died early as well. She died in December 1929. Since there were 9 “children” in this picture, 7 daughters, I thought it was possible that Nannie Rush might not be there. But if she didn’t die until December, and even in Lubbock, the weather and lack of coats made me know this photo wasn’t taken in the winter. I thought that probably Nannie Rush was in the photo. And then I remembered that my dad was born in September 1929.

When I started looking harder at my grandmother, I decided she indeed appears pregnant with what can only be my dad. The one brother that was younger than him wasn’t born until 1935, 4 years after John D’s death. Grandmother Rachel is standing by her brother, George M., for whom my dad worked much of his life. These are the two of this group that I knew the best, though I was able to establish a very close relationship with Aunt Marge late in her life.

I’m pretty sure that somewhere I have an identification of all of these persons. I probably got the picture from Aunt Marge and she told me who was who. She was just older than John D., so she was probably just starting college at Texas Tech. John D. was in college when he died–he was studying to be a Presbyterian minister. He’s the only child enumerated at home on the 1930 census.

1930 Lubbock County, Texas Census for George C. Cooper Household

I wish I knew the occasion for this photo–in December of 1929, George C. and Sally would celebrate their 41st wedding anniversary. October 1929 would be George C.’s 70th birthday. But I believe this photo was taken prior to my dad’s birth in September. Perhaps it was Aunt Mary and Uncle Newt’s wedding–they were married 2 June 1929. George M. and Rachel would have traveled about 250 miles from their homes in Perryton. Oldest daughter Anna and her family lived in Amarillo. Aunt Bettie and Uncle Wes lived in Midland. Most of the rest of the family lived in Lubbock–I need to dig out the identification to see which daughter is missing.

I was glad to have enough information to date this photo–looks like summer from the dress and the trees. The family configuration and my grandmother’s pregnancy were all clues as to the date and place.

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For over 50 years, my Osborne family has been looking for information about Christopher Osborne (c 1732-1789). I have copies of my great Aunt Fannie’s correspondence with her “Cousin Fred” from the 1950s. I’ve been searching almost 20 years myself.

We have a copy of Christopher’s will and we know he died in Mecklenburg County, North Carolina, but where did he come from? There are lots of Osborne families, of various spellings, in western North Carolina at the same time as Christopher and his son Jonathan. When DNA tests became available, I thought this would help provide the link that we’d been struggling with for so long. There were other Osborne families in the area who had similar naming patterns–Jonathan had 10 sons and there were several families with the same names–Enoch, Ephraim, John–even a Sherwood or two–who were well documented. Surely we could link up with one of those Osborne family’s who knew the path of their immigrant ancestor.

I persuaded my brother to submit a cheek scraping–he was a little paranoid since his fingerprints are on file from doing a grad school internship at a state prison–but I assured him it would be safe.

Relatively soon, I got a notification of a match with a man with a different surname. We match on 36 out of 37 markers. The literature says there’s probably no close relationship with a person who doesn’t share a surname or a similar name, but this man’s relative was in the same area of Wake County, North Carolina, at the same time as mine, so I think there’s probably a relationship. He says they know his ancestor had 3 children out of wedlock (as they say) so I think there’s a strong possibility that we’re related–that sort of puts a new spin on surnames not matching for this case, I think. My results were posted at the Ausburn/Osborne DNA website for almost a year and a half before I got another hit. About 6 weeks ago, I got a perfect match with someone on 12 markers–her family name was Ausburn. When we corresponded, I encouraged her to upgrade her test to 37, hoping against hope that we’d have a match on those markers. Sure enough, all 37 markers match–we’re among the closest matches in the family project. That means, I think, that we have about a 97% chance of sharing a common ancestor within 8 generations. I’m the 7th generation from Christopher.

The bad news, so to speak, is that Rhonda can only track her line back to 1875. Her great-grandfather appears in south Georgia from North Carolina about this time, marries in Decatur County, has a son, leaves to build some railroad depots, and doesn’t return. That’s the family story.

She and I have consulted on how to verify these stories and to try to track her great-grandfather. I’m lamenting that I’ll have to learn to research another state. (Not seriously lamenting, you understand, but I’ve not known I had family in Georgia until now. AND, not only Georgia, but right down on the Georgia-Florida line, so you know what that means!)

Part of me is thrilled to have found a match–it’s a whole new day. Great Aunt Fannie and/or Cousin Fred had a story devised about how the Osborne name came to be spelled with an “e” on the end. Something about Aunt Hattie adding it when she came back from boarding school. What would they say if they knew the DNA shows a perfect match between an Osborne and an Ausburn? Those of us who do genealogical research know that how a name is spelled is not all that important, but Fannie and Fred lived in a different day and I doubt they had an understanding that fixed spellings of surnames is really a fairly recent phenomenon.

Rhonda and I have lots of research to do. I’ve posted much of what we know at my All My Ancestors site. Rhonda had always heard her great-grandfather’s name as James F. Ausburn, but when she got her grandfather’s death certificate (James Alexander Ausburn, the son of her great-grandfather), the name for his father was given as John A. We all know the problems that can arise from the information on a death certificate, but this “new” twist on the given name has to be considered. It was provided in 1937 by James Alexender’s wife–the daughter-in-law of the man who appears in south Georgia about 1875. We should be able to find him living in a household in 1870 or 1860 or maybe even 1850, right? Evidently, that’s too easy. We have some possibilities, but with such common names, we need more evidence to be able to narrow down the field.

So, despite the great hope for the problem-solving potential of the DNA test, we have instead lots more questions. It’s the nature of information, though, isn’t it? Answer one question and at least two more emerge. Tell people what they want to know, and they’ll want to know more. We know we have a match, we know we have a common ancestor, but the question remains, who is that ancestor? And where does Christopher fit?

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About a month ago, Brenda Dayne, of Cast-On:A Podcast for Knitters had a wonderful essay about knitting memory. I had a fleeting moment of thinking this might be about stretchy yarn, but Brenda didn’t disappoint. She talked about the memories that come when she knits–whether it’s what she was doing the last time she picked up the piece or the memories of the person who taught her to knit–the connectedness she feels as she creates. [Note: This doesn't begin to do justice to Brenda's elegant essay on the creative process and memories. Be sure to listen to it for yourself on her website.]

Today I was sewing and, as usual, my mind went to my mother and her old Sears sewing machine in the back bedroom in our house after we moved to the “big house” (not that big house–just one that more than doubled the 800 sq. footer we’d been living in). My mom and I didn’t get along all that well–what a surprise. Her trying to teach me wasn’t a smooth process–she came from a father who drilled holes in wood before he drove in nails, and I thought I already knew everything and certainly didn’t need her perfectionistic approach. Anyway, I thought I wanted to learn to sew and I proposed starting on doll clothes. She said doll clothes were too small and too hard so she thought I should start on an apron. An apron?!! Looking back on it, that’s probably her first sewing project in home ec in the late 1940s. I turned my nose up at taking home-ec–after all, I could already cook better than my mom and she could teach me to sew. Besides, it wasn’t quite cool to take home-ec, at least as far as I was concerned. But I still know how to gather a skirt and do a blind stitch and a hem stitch from that first project. Don’t know that I ever wore it. I also have an unfinished doll coat I “designed” in those beginner days–solid red on one side and reversible to red polka dots on white. Too small for any of my dolls, of course. So much for proving that point.

She learned to sew from her mother-in-law. She always said she was grateful for the teaching. My grandmother was an excellent seamstress–she bought good fabric and made beautifully tailored clothes–everything from her housedresses to her winter coats to her Sunday best as well as some of her hats and belts. I remember accompanying her on a couple of shopping trips to Amarillo, the big “city,” to shop for accessories–hats and jewelry, as I recall. I don’t remember seeing her wear any shoes other than her black tie-up, mid-heel oxfords, so I don’t think we shopped for shoes. I had no sense of style then–it was the 1960′s, man–what did I know?

My mom went with my grandmother to what was called Home Demonstration Club. They met in the member’s homes and I can remember being served some pretty yummy food. It was sort of like home-ec for grownups, I guess. They would sing the Texas state song (“largest and grandest” in those days), say the pledge to both the US and the Texas flags and probably called the roll. I just remember going into immaculate living rooms that had the shades drawn against the summer heat and listening to the “lesson.” It was usually a lesson on a particular sewing technique or some updated cooking method–I remember Mom and I trying out the hobo-meals one day after a club meeting–and then there was the time we used ham and pineapple rather than hamburger and potatoes. It was pretty good, as I recall, and a welcome change of pace from all the beef we ate.

Anyway, when I sew, I think about those two women. Memories of garments my mom made me through the years float through my mind–I remember opening a box when I was at college and pulling out a wonderful blue and green dress–even the buttons were blue with smaller green ones set inside. I loved that dress. Of course, it was double-knit–no more ravelly seams or dry cleaning or ironing. It’s probably still extant in a land fill somewhere. But I think of my sewing as a way to connect with those women–my maternal grandmother sewed a little but her skills weren’t up to those of my mom and my grandmother. It was a very proud moment one day when, as an adult, I asked my mom to sew something for me and she said, “Oh, honey, you sew better than I do now.” She may have just been trying to wriggle out of making whatever it was I wanted at the time, but I still like to replay that one.

She graduated to a much better sewing machine–I think she actually bought her Bernina after I did. I was married and we were moving, and I took out the $800 some dollars that were in my teacher retirement account and bought myself a Bernina based on the recommendation of a woman in our church. (It was probably a much better investment than leaving the money in that still struggling system.) I loved it from the beginning and I still have that machine. When my mom died, I wanted her machine for sentimental reasons, but that would have made 3 for me and that seemed a little excessive. My niece has it and I hope she gets to participate in the memory chain of the women in her life who have sewed–Mom certainly made her lots of clothes on that machine. And when my dad’s sister told my mom I couldn’t have my grandmother’s machine because I already had one, it really left a void for me. That was the one I really wanted–it might have had a motor on it, but the treadle was still there. The bobbin cases were smaller than a pencil and only about 1/4 as long. I didn’t want that machine to sew on, though I’m sure it still worked perfectly–as I said, my grandmother had cranked out some gorgeous garments on it–it was just the thought that this had been such a part of her life, and through my mother, one of her 6 daughters-in-law, part of mine. I did get a quilt top and I have her sleeve board. Oh, well. When my mom died about 8 years ago, it was a needle and a spool of thread that my dad chose to add to her side of the monument as an homage to that important part of her life.

So what am I to make of the fact that the garment I’ve been working on for a couple of weeks now doesn’t even come close to fitting? crap! [see doll coat above]

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I find myself wanting to record some of the stories I’ve heard about and from my family members as well as wanting a place to muse about some of them. This seems to be a way to do that. We’ll see how it goes. I’m still working on getting my info up on the web at www.allmyancestors.com–my lack of knowledge about php keeps me from doing all I want to do, but I have helpers. Thanks, guys!!

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