All My Ancestors

I guess they are amigos. I can’t think of another reason to have their picture taken together.

I don’t think they are brothers, though they do appear to have the same seamstress. And maybe they are brothers, though I don’t think they look alike.

On the reverse is written “Uncle John Unruh left.” If they were brothers, wouldn’t the name of the other person be given as well?

Do you think he’s the same person as the one in this photo?

The handwriting on the back of the first picture looks like my grandmother’s, which would make John Unruh her father-in-law, not uncle.

But maybe it’s not her handwriting. The only John Unruh I can find in my database that would fit this approximate time period is my great-grandfather John B. Unruh, the same man in the second photo.

What do you think? And how about those overalls?!

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About 10 years ago, I worked with a woman who would tell me about her son-in-law every time I mentioned my then teen-aged son’s band. Her son-in-law lived in NYC and was a professional musician. I don’t think she intended it as a competition, but it sort of felt like one every time I talked about my kid.

My son’s group practiced in my living room–I didn’t mind. In fact, I kinda liked it. We had a really grumpy neighbor next door to the garage, and, at the time, the band played lots of covers from the Beatles, Elvis, Eric Clapton–classic rock I still love. They won the talent contest every year at their big suburban public school–except the last year when my son invited everyone up to dance and got suspended for his efforts. (It all ended well–he didn’t know that had been specifically forbidden by one of the newer “I’m on a power trip” vice principals. The suspension was suspended and the vice-principal was not back the next year.)

Anyway, one of the annual events that seemed to bring up the son-in-law vs. teenaged son tangle, at least in my mind, was Jazz in June in Norman, OK. Musician Son-in-Law would always travel back to play in it. Son and Band were playing local gigs and my living room.

Listening to the local NPR station, the one out of Norman, I keep hearing the ad for Jazz in June, so I decided to check out their site. Here’s what I found–

There they are!

They’ve played on both coasts and in NYC and many points in between. They “got signed” last year. They’ve produced 3 cds. They are a successful group. But I’m particularly gratified that they are playing the first night of Jazz in June.

I am not petty.

Nor competitive.

I’m not.

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Here in Oklahoma, we’ve heard a great deal about the “time capsule” of the 1957 Plymouth Belvedere that was buried at Oklahoma’s semi-centennial in 1957. There have been lots of news stories, both local and national. There’s a website devoted to the car.

Today I was at work and one of our regulars came by the desk to show me what he’d found in the 1957 Ardmore newspaper.

His grandmother had won a brand new 1957 red and white convertible Plymouth Belvedere 50 years ago. He’d found the newspaper story about her win and a picture of the car. He was trimming the articles and putting them onto a sheet of paper. He said his grandmother was still living and that she’d told him the story. He could hardly wait to get home to show her.

She told him they drove it home and then sold it the next day. They needed the $1800 or so that the new Plymouth cost at that time. I encouraged him to let some of the media know about his story–I thought it was a great corollary to the Tulsa story. I hope I read or see his grandmother’s story soon.

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When it appeared in my “Bloglines” a second time, I went back to read the comments posted at Simply Recipes in response to an entry entitled Rendering Bacon Fat. There were lots of questions about whether it has to be refrigerated and how long it will keep. What really surprises me is that there are people who had no idea that bacon fat, aka bacon grease, as the author points out, would be a good thing to use in cooking.

It made me think of the small brushed aluminum canister that used to sit on our stove at home–it had a strainer inside–not wire mesh but with little pin-sized holes in it that fit right around the lip of the canister. You had to take the strainer out if you wanted to dip out the fat. Both of my grandmothers has similar containers on or near their stoves as did nearly any one else’s kitchen of the era.

Was it a “southern thing?” I don’t remember when they disappeared–I just remember really yummy vegetables seasoned from that canister–and one of my friends’ mom made hot bacon salad dressing that she poured over young leaf lettuce. It was to die for.

It sounds kinda gross writing about bacon fat in this day of health-consciousness. But when I read all the questions and comments on that blog, it made me think again about my family and friends and the food we ate–growing up in the Texas panhandle wasn’t exactly “the South,” but the roots of those folks were definitely southern–Alabama and Tennessee.

What does it mean if I say I’m glad no one has to explain bacon fat to me?!

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Today I received this in the mail. Remember I posted about this great-grandmother who some sources say died in St. Louis. I still don’t know if this is she, but this column is from the St. Louis Post, from 22 January 1897, p. 3. St. Louis Public Library sent an invoice for $1.25, which, of course, I will pay. But I would like to have a copy of the beginning of the column–note that it says this is continued from page one. There might be a bit more information about the permits or there might not be, but it would be worth another $1.25 for me to know. Or, perhaps this newspaper is available through my GenealogyBank subscription. I’ll check.

The age for this person is right as is the name, but there were lots of Cromwells and lots of Elizabeths. I checked Rudy’s List of Archaic Medical Terms, aka Antiquus Morbus, to see what was meant by “chronic enteritis.” It appears to be a inflammation of the intestine, particularly the small intestine.

To be continued . . .

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Today I was reading Kimberley Powell’s posting of the same title.

My first thought goes to the irksome Christopher Osborne. He’s the one that I can’t get beyond. He may be my immigrant ancestor, but I can’t find his origins so I don’t know for sure. I’ve written about him before, including what I found by going with the DNA test.

But I’d also like to talk to my 3rd great-grandmother, Elizabeth Landrum Cooper. I’d like to know more about her mother and father, and I also would like to talk to her about her losing 4 sons in the Civil War. Would knowing about her descendants and their admiration for her provide any comfort? What was the impetus for her and her family to pull up fairly deep roots in Tennessee and move to Texas in 1841?

And then there are those enigmatic Germans from Russia–the person from that line who I’d most like to talk to is probably my great-grandmother Matilda Amanda Buller Unruh. Yes, she’s the one who shot herself, and I do have some questions for her about that violent act. But I’d also like to know some more about her family and their journey from Russia to Philadelphia to Kansas to Oklahoma. She wasn’t on the original voyage, but her parents were and I guess I think talking to her would be the “most efficient” way to find out about her and her ancestors. And maybe knowing more about her descendants would bring her some peace as well.

The bottom line is there are too many I’d like to talk to. And while it’s not perfect, searching for details about their lives is the only way I know to converse with them. I’m determined that Christopher will give up his secrets.

We’ll see.

Do you have any ancestors you’d like to meet?

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