Monday, August 14, 2017

Can Anyone Help?

I ran across a group of photos that have no identification on the back. My mother was always insistent that photos have identification on the back. This leads me to believe the pictures are from my father's side of the family. Well, also I believe they came to me through one of his deceased sisters.





This nice looking gentleman could be my great-great grandfather. George Jackson DeHart. (1835-1916)

And then again, it could be someone else.

Another photo in this group, could be his daughter, Carolyn.  For some reason, I think she resembles my grandmother, Nina,  who would have been Carolyn's niece.

Carolyn was a 1/2 sister to Emma Susan DeHart Borden. They were the daughters of George Jackson DeHart.





And lastly, there is the woman below. Could she be Great-Great Grandpa DeHart's second wife, Carolyn's mother? If so, her name is Sarah Caroline Corey. 






Saturday, August 5, 2017

Suicide of Early Settler

 
In the post Charles and Jennie Wright, I promised a sad family story. This is it.
Well, yes. This is impossible to read.  It is an article taken from the Sycamore True Republican newspaper on March 1, 1913.
 
 
 
 

It says:
 
A shocking suicide of one of the earliest settlers of this place, a well known and respected farmer of mature age has convulsed with excitement the people of the northern part of this town.  On Saturday last, at about 1 o'clock p.m., Mr. Royal Wright cut his throat from ear to ear and died a few minutes later.  He had been ill for several weeks and in a depressed state of mind resembling melancholy insanity.  For seven or eight days and nights he had not slept, and he complained much of his condition of health, and there was evidently a general serious derangement of health.  At the same time, he had come deeply interested in a series of religious meetings held in the neighborhood and his mind dwelt in gloomy mood on the state of his soul.  He was at times happy in the hope that sins were forgiven and again he became gloomy and disparing.  He became sure he would not live much longer, and settled his business, closed his accounts, rented his farm and paid for and stopped his newspaper, gave direction for selling his livestock, and made preparations for death.
 
Saturday Dr. J.W. Garvin called and prescribed for him, he was gloomy and absentminded.  He sat for an hour in the company of J. Siglin his father-in-law, Devine Dean and others, with his little girl of three years on his knee.
 
And while he would answer questions, he took no further part in the conversation.  At about 1 o'clock the doctor left the house, but had hardly turned his horse toward home, when Mrs. Wright screamed from the door that her husband has killed himself.
 
He had passed into the pantry, fastened the door after him, took a razor from the shelf, and cut a fearful gash in his throat under the chin and down to the bone.  He died in one minute.
 
The sad event is ascribed to the religious excitement, but Dr. Gavin states that under the same pathological conditions excitement from any other cause would have produced the same result.
 
He leaves a wife and eight children.
 
 
************************************************
Charles Wright, my great-grandfather whom I knew, was the son of Royal.  He was the fourth of these eight children and only 11 years of age when his father took his own life.
 
 
 
 
 


Saturday, July 29, 2017

Charles and Jennie Wright

 
Recently, I came across this picture of my great-grandparents.  I don't think I have ever seen it before.  It is not very sharp, but shows a good likeness of Grandma up in years.  It appears there is a cake between them. It might be a birthday or their anniversary.  They were married 2.5 months short of 70 years.  Charles and Jennie are the parents of Albert Wright and grandparents of Vern Wright, my father.
 
  

Charles was the son of Mary Siglin and Royal Wright.  Charles father, Royal, leaves his descendants a sad story. 

 Coming soon to a blog near you.

Monday, July 24, 2017

Big Blue House

The Statler Brothers sang a song called "This Ole House".  It went like this:

I ain't a gonna need this house no longer ain't a gonna need this house no more
Ain't got time to fix the shingles ain't got time to fix the door
Ain't got time to oil the hinges nor to mingle the window panes
I ain't gonna need this house not longer I'm gettin' ready to meet the saints
This ole house once knew my children this old house once knew my wife
This old house was joy and comfort as we fought the storms of life
This old house once rang with laughter this old house heard many a shouts
Now she trembles in the darkness when the lightnin' walks about
I ain't a gonna need this house no longer.............






This is a needle point picture I made for my parents in the 1970's. 
They moved to this house 48 years ago. It was a house full of laughter, joy, heartache, and sorrow. And even though the physical shell is now gone, the memories made in this house will last forever in the minds of those who loved to spend time here.

 Rest In Peace, Big Blue House.

Tuesday, July 11, 2017

Grisso Side



I believe one of these WACs is my grandfather's sister, Edith. This could be a fun rabbit trail to follow someday.


Little Grissos

One never knows what one might find looking through old family photos.



 
 

Wednesday, July 5, 2017