Sunday, December 20, 2009

Just Across the River: Hiram and Mary Ann Poole Hale


Hiram Hale and his wife, Mary Ann Poole Hale
(Me-->Dad-->LaVonne-->Harry Van De Riet-->Sarah Elmyra Hale-->Hiram Hale)

I have a little soft spot for this particular ancestor of mine. Hiram Hale was the first ancestor that I really thoroughly researched when I was first learning how to do genealogy at BYU. I guess I was interested in him because Hale is also Emma Smith's (the wife of Joseph Smith, founder of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints) last name. After lots of checking, I know that we are not related to the Emma Hale Smith family except for a long shot, probably back in England a few hundred years ago. The interesting and relevant part, though, is that Hiram and his wife Mary Ann were contemporaries of Emma, Joseph, Brigham Young, and all those people so important to my Mormon heritage, but they were NOT Mormon. AND they had to be aware of the dramatic happenings in the Mormon community at that time because they lived just two counties away from Nauvoo, Illinois, across the Mississippi in Wapello, Iowa. They also knew that they had a fleeting connection with Emma--that her maiden name was Hale--and they sympathized with the awful stories they heard about her mistreatment at the hands of the leaders. At least, I THINK they knew she was a Hale. Grandma LaVonne, a convert, used to say that her family's opinion of the Mormon church was not very good because, "They treated Emma just awful, and she was a Hale, you know." That is the extent of what I know of their opinions of the whole Mormon drama that unfolded at their doorstop, but I wish I could have asked them more about it. Hiram and Mary Ann were both pretty young at the time...they got married in 1847, just a couple of weeks after Brigham Young's company reached the Salt Lake valley. I would love to know if their families were among those that helped the starving Saints who were trying to cross Iowa.

I've had a little fun imagining what the Hales and the Pooles may have thought about the Mormons, and what they must think now that their descendants have joined the throngs. My favorite moment was when I took a copy of this photo into a print shop in Provo, Utah, to get it redone,etc. A big, loud man with a thick Southern accent was standing behind me in line and saw my photos. He pointed and said, "Those yo' ancestahs?" Yeah, I nodded proudly. "They was Mo'mon?" I snickered a little and said, "No, they probably shot at the Mormons." The entire shop went dead silent. I just laughed. It's the proud rebel in me.

I'll have to post more later about Hiram and his Civil War stories.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Dancing to Heaven: Lucy Elzada Hardy

Here are some excerpts from the life of Lucy Elzada Hardy Cheney, pioneer. The story I have been most inspired by since I've had children of my own is that she had her first baby in the back of a wagon on a pile of flour sacks. I wish I had her picture, but I think her imagined face is the one I have in mind when I sit serenely on my crisp hospital bed, receiving my epidural. I think she's saying, "Oh honey! Take the drugs! Take 'em for me!"

I also remember Grandma Pearl talking about her Grandma Cheney dancing to death, and thought, what a happy way to go, surrounded by your granddaughters in your best dress and dancing on into heaven.
(Me-->Dad-->Grandpa-->Pearl Drake-->Mary Jane Cheney-->Lucy Elzada Hardy)

From an interview of Pearl Drake Haynes, written by her niece Ortell Drake Wilson.


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…My Grandmother Cheney [Lucy Elzada Hardy Cheney] lived with us a lot. My mother is Mary Jane Cheney. That’s where you get the Marys. (This to Mary Kaye, Pearl’s daughter.)
My mother never lived polygamy, she said that is one thing she couldn’t do. Grandpa Cheney died young and my Grandma never remarried. She had her first child on the plains. The pioneers had hard times, I’ll tell you. When she had the baby she was laying on barrels of flour. The captain said they should put the flour in bags to make a softer bed, which they did. I was about fourteen or fifteen years old when she came to visit and she told me this....
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Here is a picture someone shared of Lucy.
Now I’ll tell you a little bit about my Grandmother Cheney. The night that Grandma Cheney died, that day she got all her nice blouses out and ironed them all up. She used to have some beautiful blouses and she loved to iron them. Her granddaughter asked why she was ironing her blouses and she said, “I’m going to a wedding tonight. You’ll see.” My grandmother was a great dancer and she loved to dance. That evening she told her grandchildren or great-grandchildren, I guess, to all line up on the over-stuffed and she would dance for them because she was going to this wedding and she would dance before she left. So she did and she said, “Well, I’m getting kind of tired. Move over some of you, and let me sit down.” She sat down and passed away on the sofa. She was a great entertainer. At a ward old folks’ party, they had my grandmother and her oldest daughter dance for them. They gave a dance recital. She was honored for being the oldest at this party."
Also, from the "Life Story of Ezekial Wells Cheney and Lucy Elizada Hardy Cheney", by Arlene Ellis Melis.
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Lucy was born February 24, 1829, at Bellfast, Waldo County, Maine. She was the daughter of Zachariah Hardy and Eliza Philbrook Hardy. This family also journeyed to Nauvoo and shared with the Saints in the persecutions of the mobs. Lucy's mother was a seamstress and during the family's stay at Nauvoo she made clothes for the Prophet's family. Lucy, being seventeen years of age at this time, worked for the Prophet's mother, showing mummy exhibits to people who paid to see them. When the family left Nauvoo, Lucy's father died of exposure as a result of battling the icy waters of the Mississippi while helping the Saints to cross. When the saints were burying Zachariah Hardy they were molested by the mob and had to leave him at the graveside and return later to bury him secretly at night. Many of the Saints were forced to leave Nauvoo with only those belongings that they could carry in their arms. Lucy's mother, Eliza had seven children when she fled from Nauvoo and was carrying the youngest in her arms.

Ezekial and Lucy were married at North Mt. Pisgah in March 1848. They had met at Winter Quarters where they had gathered with the Saints after being driven from Nauvoo. They were married when Ezekial was twenty years old and Lucy was nineteen. A year after their marriage, in 1849 they left Winter Quarters, with Ezekial's father Aaron, and traveled to Utah in what was known as George A. Smith's Company. Brother Smith was a cousin of the Prophet. On the way they suffered many hardships but fortunately were not molested by Indians. Three weeks after they left Winter Quarters, their first child was born near Elkhorn, Nebraska. They named the baby Eliza Ann.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

If you have to be a "holic": Charles Aaron Samuel Heagy

More from Grandpa Heagy's memories of his Dad today.
(Me-->Mom-->Grandpa Heagy-->Charles Aaron Samuel Heagy)
"At the age of 39 he married my mother Cleora Elizabeth Schlomer, age 26, at Fort Benton, Choteau county, Montana. He then worked for the Great Falls Brewery, two blocks from their home at 734 14th St. SW, Great Falls.
His later years with the brewery were spent at the Malt Plant. The Malt Plant was a brewery also at one time. It is now replaced with the new Federal Building in Great Falls. It is my feeling Dad took the job at the Malt Plant to get away from the temptation of the free beer at the Brewery and the opportunity to work alone. Seldom was there any one but himself working in the building. He still had an alcohol problem as did his father before him.
As he was returning home from work early one morning, he had a head on with two boys on a motorcycle. The accident occurred on the old wooden viaduct over the Great Northern Railroad. Both boys died. I never knew Dad to take a drink after. As the boys had been drinking also, an out of court settlement was reached."

I asked Mom a little bit more about this. She said that her Grandpa had pointed out to her Dad that alcoholism ran in his blood from both sides of the family and that "if he was going to be a "-holic", be a WORK-aholic". Luckily, our Grandpa has heeded this advice. It's a blessing in disguise, I think, that C.A.S.H. was in that car accident. If he hadn't been, maybe my own grandfather would have been inclined to drink, would not have been interested in joining the LDS church where you don't drink a drop, would not have married my Grandma, and we wouldn't be here today.

I also vaguely remember this story being told to me as a very young child, before Kindergarten because we were still living our first house. I think I had asked Mom why we don't drink, and one of the answers I remember was her explanation of alcoholism and the threat that if I ever took a drink, I would become addicted very easily because that runs in the family. Not that I was ever tempted to, but to remember this from that young of an age means it still made a serious impression on me.
PS. Hey Jake, now we know why you are such a workaholic. That bad gene had to find a positive outlet!!!

A lovely "rest of the story" to this post.  After writing this I talked to Grandpa a little more and asked him if he knew anything about the two teenagers that died.  I suggested that it might be nice to do his temple work.  At the time, the temple work policy included "a close, personal relationship".  (I read that to Grandpa and he quipped, "Like someone ya killed!)  Well, it touched a nerve and he and Grandma went to the courthouse to find out more about these boys.  They did do the temple work for them and I feel like it is a gift Grandpa Charlie Heagy would have wanted his victims to have, as a bit of recompense.

Saturday, October 31, 2009

Never Cry Witch: Our Family in Salem


I wasn't sure how many of you out there realized that we had ancestors living in Salem during the Salem Witch trials of 1692. We just have so many early colonials on our tree that it was bound to happen. Grandma Pearl Drake Haynes had multiple ancestors in the Massachusetts, some right in Salem. Ephraim Kempton and his wife Patience Faunce were possibly there, but I'm not positive because they had moved to Plymouth sometime between 1674 and 1707. However, the Ebenezer and Hannah Dodge Woodbury family was definitely there for all the action. Here is the trace up the tree: (Me-->Dad-->Grandpa Haynes-->Pearl Drake-->Mary Jane Cheney-->Lucy Elzada Hardy-->Zachariah Hardy-->Elizabeth Thorndike-->Robert Thorndike-->Elizabeth Woodberry-->Ebenezer Woodbury.) Phew! That's ten generations ago! So, anyway, I've checked the list of the 19 that were hung and a few more that were killed, and there weren't any of these last names among them. So, I guess our family tree is witch free! The bad news is, there were dozens in the jails and hundreds that were accused in the town, so who was doing all the accusing? I don't know but I hope it wasn't them!

There were some pretty wild goings on, so I'm sure no matter the level of our ancestors' involvement, I'm sure they were familiar with the key players and had an opinion of what was just and right. Wouldn't it be interesting to know?

Sunday, October 25, 2009

Short Surprise: Charles Aaron Samuel Heagy

Grandpa Heagy wrote me up a wonderful bunch of pages about his family and I am excited to share that with you (one bite at a time...). I also have questions about the stories now that I have read them, so Grandpa isn't off the hook as he might think. Here is a little bit about his Dad.

(Me-->Mom-->Grandpa Heagy-->Charles Aaron Samuel Heagy)

"My Father, Charles Aaron Samuel Heagy, was the fourth child of eight to Chalres Aaron Heagy and Martha Justine Cooper. CASH, his initials, was born 17 March 1895 [St. Patrick's Day] at Bureau Junction, Bureau, Ill., and died 5 March 1985. His family homesteaded in the Circle-Glendive, Montana area. While there, he mentioned how he enjoyed being a sheep herder. You couldn't call him a shepherd because of the great number of sheep each sheep herder tended. As I remember, it was the custom to have one black sheep for every one hundred white. The sheep herder could count the blacks to determine if all were accounted for. The sheep industry was a big thing before synthetic materials.

Charlie served under the Office of the Quartermaster as a cook during the First World War. At the age of 22 and 5 feet 5 1/2 inches tall he was inducted, September 18 1917, at Glendive Montana, and discarched 6 Feb 1919. he attained the rank of Sargent First Class, training at Camp Lewis, Washington. He then served the remainder of his time at Camp Bowie Texas. While in the service he had a good friend with either his given or family name of Ebert, and you know the rest of the story as far as my name is concerned.
I believe, but am not positive that after his discharge, Dad returned to the Glendive area to work his own or his dad's homestead."

Charlie Heagy
More later from this history. I was so surprised to learn that Great Grandpa Heagy was very short! We went to see him in the nursing home when we were little, but he was probably sitting down, so I didn't notice that my mom is at least five inches taller than he was! I also pulled out the map and saw how far away Glendive is, clear to the East side of the state. I wonder what made him want to come to Great Falls....maybe because that is where his wife Cleora's family was? He married her in Fort Benton.
Here is another fun quest if anyone is interested.  Wouldn't it be cool to check the military records of Charlie's group and find what Ebert our Grandpa is named for, and where his family is now?

Friday, October 16, 2009

Bump in the Road: Eunice Rosella Teeples

This month is the 50th anniversary of Eunice Rosella's death, so I thought I'd choose her next. I don't yet have any pictures of her, and very few stories, so I guess Grandma Heagy gets to be quizzed next. This is her maternal grandma. I particularly want to find a nice picture because then I can add a generation on my maternal line picture frame with all the women in the line at about the same age, around our wedding days. This story comes from Eunice's mother's personal history. Her name was Harriet Betsy Cook.

(Me-->Mom-->Beverly Ely-->LaRue McCann-->Eunice Rosella Teeples)

Harriet and her husband, William Randolph Teeples, were asked to settle in the Gila River area of Arizona. This is where Eunice was born. William Randolph Teeples died before they had been there long, and Harriet decided to go back to the Bear Lake area where the rest of her family was. In a wagon, with her children, by herself. Luckily, a young man, a neighbor, offered to help her travel when he heard the plan. Most of the history I have of her is about this wild trip they went on. Here is an excerpt.
"We started on the next day and while traveling along a side hill the upper front wheel of the wagon struck a large rock and the lower wheel dropped into a hole. It gave such a sudden jolt that it threw my three year old baby girl Eunice out over the front wheel into a sharp rock, and my fourteen year old boy was thrown over her, onto the ground. It did not hurt the boy, but the baby girl lay so still and white. I stopped the team and jumped out. Her brother had lifted her and ran to me with her in his arms. Her face was covered with blood and her head dropped down. I took her in my arms and ran to a little stream where I bathed her face in cold water. The fall had cut a large gash in her cheek through which I could see her teeth. She was some time coming to herself. This had all come so suddenly and I was so excited trying to bring her out of danger that I had hardly realized what had happened. When she opened her eyes and looked at me and began to moan, I began to shake and tremble and became so weak that I fairly tottered up and laid her on the bedding in the wagon. I then fell upon my knees and thanked the Lord with all my sould for sparing her life. She could not raise her head again that day but was much better the next morning."
This story makes me think of something I read this morning, Mosiah 9:17, "For we were awakened to a remembrance of the deliverance of our fathers." One thing I hope this collection of stories will do is to remind us how much the Lord loves us and has blessed our family and will continue to bless us.
Eunice Rosella Teeples McCann, wedding picture

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

John Schlomer comments




When I talked to Mom about my John Schlomer post she mentioned a few more things. I told her that Grandpa Heagy had told me the story over the phone and I had difficulty understanding him because his voice is so gravely and low and my phone just doesn't pick that up well. She laughed and said part of the problem is that whenever he tells Grandpa Schlomer stories he uses his EXTRA gruff voice because that is exactly how Grandpa Schlomer sounded--this is one of her memories of him from when she was a little girl. I forgot to ask if he still had an accent when she knew him, but now we know what he sounded like!
Mom also sent me some great photos of Grandpa John Schlomer. Here is her commentary:
Hi, One year, Lori, Bev, Ebert, Cleora, & Charlie loaded up in Bev & Ebert's little black VW Bug and went to the coast. One of the places we went to was Coos Bay Oregon to visit Lori's Great Grandpa John Schlomer. Attached are 4 pictures.
Grandma Cleora Heagy is in the black hair. Great Grandpa Schlomer is bald. I guess the woman he is holding hands with is his second wife. You will have to ask Grandpa Heagy about that.
My favorite is the one where Great Grandpa and I are holding hands and standing by the cars.
Enjoy. 0x0x0 Mom

Friday, October 2, 2009

The Kaiser's Request: John Schlomer

I really don't know very much about the Heagy side of the family, so I'm looking forward to learning more about them. I talked to Grandpa for a while the other day and he told me a little bit about his Grandpa, John Schlomer.

John Schlomer was a brewer (of beer) in Germany who immigrated to the United States. I need to find out if we have his immigration info, but I see that his daughter Cleora was born in Pennsylvania in 1908, so it must have been before that. Anyway, when World War I broke out, John Schlomer got a surprising letter. It was an official request from the Kaiser that he return to Germany and serve his native country in the army. John would have been around 35 and had already been in the US for a number of years. At this point in the story Grandma asked, "Did he write them back?" Grandpa laughed and said, "No. He just said, 'Go to hell.'" Now that's a proud American!

I'm certainly glad he didn't go. Grandpa Harry Van De Riet was already fighting on the American side, but that's another story. As far as I know, none of my ancestors have fought each other in the modern wars.
The Kaiser recruits John

(Me-->Mom-->Grandpa Heagy-->Cleora Elizabeth Schlomer-->John Schlomer)

After I got off the phone, I was wondering about what it would have been like to be German American around that time. I know that there was some prejudice, but I need to ask Grandpa if he knows if John Schlomer took any Anti-German persecution. Even if he didn't, I'm sure he was aware of the worst cases around him. I did a little research, and found this article about being German in America during WWI, courtesy of Wikipedia.

"During World War I, German Americans, especially those born abroad, were sometimes accused of being too sympathetic to the German Empire. Teddy Roosevelt denounced "hyphenated Americanism" and insisted that dual loyalties were impossible in wartime. A small minority came out for Germany, including H. L. Mencken, who believed the German democratic system was superior to American democracy."
World War I war bond posters depicted Germans in ways similar to modern hate-group caricatures.
Several thousand vocal opponents of the war were imprisoned. Thousands were forced to buy war bonds to show their loyalty. The Red Cross barred individuals with German last names from joining in fear of sabotage. One man was hanged in Illinois, apparently for no other reason than that he was of German descent. The killers were found not guilty of the crime and the hanging was called an act of patriotism by a jury. A Minnesota minister was tarred and feathered when he was overheard praying in German with a dying woman.  Some Germans during this time "Americanized" their names (e.g. Schmidt to Smith, Müller to Miller) and limited their use of the German language in public places. Newspapers also printed blacklists of names of Germans, including their addresses, headlined as German Enemy Aliens.
In Chicago Frederick Stock temporarily stepped down as conductor of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra until he finalized his naturalization papers. Orchestras replaced music by Wagner with Berlioz on programs. In Cincinnati,  reaction to anti-German sentiment during World War I caused the public library of Cincinnati to withdraw all German books from its shelves. German-named streets were renamed. For example, in Indianapolis,, Germania Avenue was renamed Pershing Avenue — for a World War I general of German descent. In Iowa, the 1918 Babel Proclamation made speaking foreign languages in public illegal. Nebraska banned instruction in any language except English, but the U.S. Supreme Court ruled the ban illegal in 1923 (Meyer vs. Nebraska)."

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Buttering Up: Harry Van De Riet, Sr.


Here is a lovely picture of Grandpa Harry and Grandma Bess on their wedding day that I scanned years ago. I wish I could have known these two. My Grandma always spoke of her parents in such worshipful tones, so I'm sure I'll be sharing several of stories about them. For now, though, I want to share a glimpse of what it would have been like to be part of this family. I think a lot of my own family's sense of fun came from these two.

Here is an excerpt from "On Becoming a Van De Riet", by Ruth Van De Riet.
(Me-->Dad-->LaVonne-->Harry Van De Riet)
"I was duly introduced to the rest of the family and very early on I realized that here was a force to be reckoned with! For example, at my first dinner with the family, Grandpa Harry passed me the butter and shoved it so my thumb stuck in it! Since things like that continued to happen frequently, I soon knew that one had to be on their toes.
Jack was recalled to active duty for the Korean War in August...We were married in Choteau. At the reception following the ceremony, brother Harry [Jr.] removed two shotgun shells from his pocket, handed them to the minister and said, "I guess we didn't need these after all!" I am sure we could all write a book full of such antics and remarks. Here I was, an only child, now part of this large fun family--and I loved it!!"
I'm going to have to bug Aunt Ruth for some more stories, I guess. And I need to start buying butter in the cube instead of the tub so I can do this to my daughter. She needs a little teasing.

Monday, September 28, 2009

Poison Apple: Jack Drake Haynes

I thought it would be great for my first story apple to post a story about apples! Our kids are going to hear this story tonight for family home evening. I'm going to include a scripture from the Book of Mormon, Alma 44:4, as the theme for the lesson. "Now ye see that this is the true faith of God; yea, ye see that God will support, and keep, and preserve us, so long as we are faithful unto him, and unto our faith, and our religion; and never will the Lord suffer that we shall be destroyed except we should fall into transgression and deny our faith."

Here is an excerpt from a personal history written by Jack Drake Haynes, (who I am named after).
(Me-->Dad-->Jack Haynes)
"Around this time [first grade], Seth [his older brother] and Wayne K. and I went out to Wayne's orchard to pick apples. I climbed up in the tree and tossed apples down. I didn't know the apples had just been sprayed with arsenic to kill bugs! I ate 2 or 3 apples...after a while I started feeling yucky! I lay down on Wayne's lawn and looked at his house. It was spinning round and round! It got blacker and blacker...and I was soon unconscious. I don't know if anyone figured out what was wrong with me, because Seth and Wayne didn't get sick. Someone took me home, but no one called a doctor! I was unconscious for several days! Finally, Dad and Brother Petersen gave me a blessing and I woke up. About a month later, my black hair turned bright red. Another month and it all fell out! I was bald as a billiard ball. I had to start school, (second or third grade) without any hair. My hair did finally grow back dark and wavy."
I've heard Grandpa tell this story a few times and one thing he usually mentions is that they figure Seth and Wayne didn't get sick because, having both hands free, they rubbed their apples clean on their shirts and didn't suffer the effects of the poison.
Glen, Verl, Seth and Jack, a few years after the apple incident.