E-mail Subscribers

     The service which allows email subscribers is going away. I am trying to figure out how to keep my 29 Blog subscribers. I will attempt some blogs in July. My blog can always be accessed through www.margietolsdorf.blogspot.com. More updates to come.

Happy Birthday

 Often I think of noting birthdays of my many ancestors. Of course, this would involve some research and time that I do not seem to able to muster lately.  There are a few of these ancestors that I can pull out of my memories' hat but most would take some investigation.  I still like the idea, maybe someday I will achieve this.

What I can do is note birthdays of my decendants. For example, today is the 12th birthday of my youngest grandchild. He is our only boy grandchild so he will be the one to carry on the family name. I hope I can interest him in genealogy someday.

Happy Birthday, Jake.

Daughters of the American Revolution

     I finally did it. I submitted my application to the Daughters of the American Revolution. I have been meaning to do this for years. Mainly I wanted to make it easier for my granddaughters to apply in the future if they should become interested. My patriot is Abraham DeHart on my father's side. I am fairly certain I can follow the line back on my mother's side as well. I would be willing to give it a try if a maternal cousin is interested. 

     The lineage is as follows:

Abrabam DeHart-patriot who fought for our independence in the Revolutionary War.

 Samuel DeHart- son of Abraham of West Virginia

George DeHart-grandson of Abraham. I have visited the grave of George in DalHart, Texas.           He and his brothers fought in the Civil War on the side of the Confederacy

Emma Susan DeHart Borden -great granddaughter of Abraham and my great grandmother whom I knew well as a child.

Nina Frances Borden Wright-great great granddaughter of Abraham and my paternal grandmother.

LaVerne William Wright- 3rd great grandson of Abraham and my father.

Margaret Ann Wright Tolsdorf- 4th great granddaughter of Abraham DeHart.

Away

     Many years ago (many=40) when I was in my mid-30's, life was busy, busy, busy. I was a full time elementary teacher with two elementary age children. My husband worked extended hours which left me dealing with daily life on my own at times.

     Now here it is so much later in life. So many changes. So much living. And now it seems so long ago.

     I found a cartoon in the paper one day that seemed to summarize my young mother and wife existance. This was so me in those days.

Suddenly, life rushes by and all one has are those memories.  And how grateful I am for them all.

Only in a Small Town

     Recently, I was on a walk with a friend and told her a story about a near fatal accident some years ago.  Little did I know I would come across a written version of that saga only a few days later. I didn't remember that I had even written about it.  The missing piece of this story is the year. I detailed the date but not the year. It was somewhere between 2006 and 2008.  The original title was just what I have written here; Only in a Small Town. Then I renamed it A Tale of Two Fridays. Either title is appropiate. Take your choice.

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     On December 16, my husband, Tom, his mother, and I headed for St. Louis to spend the week-end with the kids and granddaughters three.  About 10 miles or so into the trip, Doris, Tom's mom, remembered that she had forgotten to stop her mail.  Tom said we could just call the post office on the cell phone, but Doris did not know the number.  However, she did know the number of the congregate meal site where she drank coffee every mornng. ate senior lunches, and quilted in the afternoons on Monday and Friday.  Tom called the number and Carol, the cook, answered. Carol was one of the 34 graduates in our Scranton High School Class of '63. (that is 1963 not 1863 as some of you might think). So, we knew her well. Tom asked her to look up the number of the post office. She was glad to do it.  She also volunteered to do it for us if we wished. No, indeed we could do it.  Tom then called the post office.  Of course, they were happay to put a hold on Doris' mail, but Friday's mail had already gone out.  Tom's reply to the next question was, "If it isn't too much trouble."

The question posed after explaining Friday mail had already been dispatched was, "Would you like us to go pick it up and bring it back?" Aaaah, life in a small town.

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     Little did I know what the next Friday would bring. Hence, the inspiration for the second title to this piece.

     On Friday, December 23rd, we had the opportunity to the "call any number in Scranton for help phone technique" but for a much different reason.  This time we were trying too get in contact with Dad's insurance agent. Tom called the  insurance office first but it was closed for Christmas.  Then he called the only other number he knew, the bank's. He called the bank number so someone could look up the insurance agent's home number.  He was not home, but his wife gave us his cell phone number.  Our agent was passing by Glidden ( 9 miles west of Scranton) when Tom reached him.  He went straight to his closed office to look up information for us.

     This is why we needed the information.

     About 25 miles west of the Quad Cities on our way to Springfield on the 23rd, Tom moved into the passing lane to go around a semi. About half-way around, we suddenly couldn't see anything.  Tom was doing about 72 miles per hour.  Evidently, a wind gush or vaccum pocket caused our van's hood to pop open and smash into the windshield. Now remember we were doing 70+ miles per hour and could not see because the hood was blocking the view. The windshield stayed in place but was shattered.  The snow, ice and slush complicated the situation. And we were driving blind next to a semi on our right.  Tom managed to slow the van to a speed in which he could pull over to the middle median and get stopped.  All, I remind you, without being able to see.  We were so lucky on so many counts.  The main one is probably that I wasn't driving.  I think I would have just closed my eyes and screamed before dying.  It still gives me the chills to think about how lucky we were.  Meanwhile, our insurance agent spent time on the phone looking for a place where we could help. It was the Friday before Christmas and everything was closing. His was not an easy task. As we slowly continued in the dismal weather almost feeling our way along, our agent found a place in Davenport where we could get the exact windshield and they were ready for us when we arrived.  One and one half hours later, we were back on the road to Springfield and the repair shop closed as we drove out of the lot.  Just as Dickens ends his Tale with memorable wordage, I will try to do the same with mine.

    I will enjoy today.  Tomorrow may not come my way.

Who knows?

If I made a New Year's Resolution for 2021, it would be to get all my photos in some sort of order. I am starting realize my time is running out.

One of the photos I recently came across baffled me. Certainly those are my parents, Mary and Vern, but where are they? I finally figured it out but can you?

Any ideas?

Happpy Anniversary

 On December 16, 1941, my parents, Mary Grisso and Vern Wright, were married in the parsonage of the Methodist Church in Scranton, Iowa. Their only witness was my grandmother, Nina Smith Grisso.

This would be their 79th wedding anniversary.

How did Grandpa's truck get to California?

While sorting ( because I am always sorting) I came across some newspaper articles about the time my grandpa Bert Grisso had his truck stolen out of the yard south of Scranton, Iowa.  I remember the story well because his truck ended up in California. I was 10 at the time and thought this was a really, really big deal. And I guess it was.

Veteran's Day

I thought it would be interesting to show some of the military photos from my family.  This my maternal grandfather, Bert R. Grisso, in his World War I uniform. I really don't know much about it. Something to research. His sister, Edith, also served. 

I thought this Family Veteran's post was such a great idea. Of course, this was several months ago. Lots of time. Oops. Time is up and I am missing many photos.

This is my Uncle Bill, son of Bert Grisso pictured above in his WWI uniform. Bill served in WWII and was aboard his ship when the flag was raised on Mt.Suribachi on Iwo Jima. The cheers were heard all along the coast where his ship was located.

Bert Grisso had four sons who served in the Military. They were all Navy men. In addition to Bill, there was John Grisso, Marvin Grisso,

and Donald Grisso. Marvin made the Navy his career and was buried at sea at age 49.

Bert's brother-in-law, Dale Smith, was in WWII and remained a career Navy man.

When I think of WWII, I am reminded that my dad's first cousin, Russell Wright, did not come home from that conflict.

Maybe another time I can add more details about some of our ancesters who participated in the American Revolution, Civil War, and the conflict in Viet Nam. 

As proud as I am of all my family members who served in the military, I have to show the pictures of a couple of my favorites.

My husband,Tom, served in the Iowa National Guard for 12 years. He was a helicopter pilot.

Our son, Scott, is our most recent family Veteran. He served in the Navy for 9 years. He was a submariner assigned to the USS Albuquerque.

Thank you to these Veterans for their service and all the others to whom we owe our freedoms.

The Necklace

 

The purpose of this post is to show the necklace inherited from my great aunt Neva Smith Walker.  She wore it proudly at special functions and family events. This necklace was dear to her because it had belonged or her grandmother, Ginevra Withrow Vorhies. Ginevra was my great great grandmother.

Ginevra "Neva" Mary Small Walker, is pictured above wearing the necklace. I wonder if GGGrandma Vorhies gave it to her because they shared the same name. Neva was apparently named for both of her grandmothers.  Her paternal grandmother's name was Mary.

The date on the back of this picture of Ginevra and John M. Vorhies says 1888. Sadly, this picture does not show the necklace.

This picture of my husband and me was taken  approximately 100 years after the photo of Ginevra and John M. Vorhies. I am proudly wearing my gggrandmother's necklace.

Tulip Time

 This picture was taken when I was about 4 or so. Those pictured are my Great Aunt Neva, my mom in saddle shoes, and my Great Grandmother, Estella Smith in her stylist hat.  We are at the Tulip Festival in Pella, Iowa. The fun part of this picture for me is that I actually remember that day. I wonder if all those beautiful tulips is what made such a lasting memory.

Of course, this would have been a better post at Tulip Time in May. However, I needed a post for today so I could wish some other descendants of Estella Smith a happy birthday.

Happy Birthday to David and Liz.

My Very Old Great Grandmother

 This has always been one of my favorite pictures. I was about 5 months old sitting on my great grandmother's lap in front of her house. I may have already posted this in the past, but I hadn't stopped to make the following realization. Grandma was only 69 years old. I think she looks about 99. However, she died at about 82 so of course she wasn't that old. Why am I going on about this?  The baby in that picture (me) is six years older now than Grandma Estella is in this picture. Do I look 99? Do not answer that.

Hawkeye Girls State

Someday my great grandchildren might read my blog. Just in case, here is a newspaper article so they can know a little more about me.

FYI

It is great and yet frustrating to be blogging again. Great because I have many stories to tell from my genealogy research and hand me down boxes of pictures and articles.

 It is frustrating because sometimes my posts go on line but those who are regular viewers of COUSINS do not receive a notice.

The first time was with the post about Mary Kate. I was very excited about that post but it did not go out to regular readers.

Then it happened again with a story about a fire. I have returned that post to draft form and will try again another day.

I hope you receive this post.

This is a test.

Friends' Phone Conversation Ends in Tragedy

The following article written by Dave DeValois appeared in the Des Moines Register in 2000.

Sherill Walters thought it was odd when her friend, Cyrena Meyers, suddenly dropped the phone while they were talking Tuesday afternoon.  A few hours later, she found out it was tragic.

Meyers, 63, died in a house fire north of Des Moines that started about the time the conversation ended, authorities said Wednesday.

Walters said she had been talking on the phone with Meyers ab,out 12:45 p.m. when the call was abruptly disconnected. "The deputy told me I was probably the last person to talk to her.  That kind of freaks me out."Walters said.

Meyers didn't say anything to indicate she was in trouble. "She never screamed or hollered or nothing," Walters said.  She said the phone was still out when she tried to call back five minutes later.

When she tried again in a half hour, the phone rang but there was no answer. "I thought this was strange," she said. "But she was the kind that if she didn't want to talk to someone, she'd pull the phone (cord) out."

Walters said she figured that if there was a problem, Meyers' companion, Don Grisso, would help her. Grisso, who lived with Meyers at 5001 N.E.12th St. in Saylor Township, wasn't home at the time.

Walters found out about the blaze from a TV news show later that afternoon.

Authorities said careless smoking started the fire.  They said Meyers was found near the front door late Tuesday afternoon.

A woman who witnessed the fire said the body should have been found more quickly.  Carol Patterson said the Saylor Township firefighters act as theou they assumed the house was empty.

"I'm not an expert, but I was concerned," she said.  "I thought they should have moved a little faster."

Patterson, who works nearby, said she stopped by the scene soon after the fire started.  She said firefighters didn't appear to check for victims.  She said that if the volunteer firefighters had done a better job, Meyers would not have been burned beyond recognition. "The family could have at least had an open casket at the funeral."

Assistant Fire Chief Tom Clark said firefighters tried to enter the house at least four times.  The problem, he said, was that flames had engulfed both the front and back doors.  Firefighters tried to look through windows but were unable to see anything because of smoke, flames and clutter around the house, Clark said.

"There was so much stuff in there that it was impossible to see anything," he said.

George Howe, a state fire investigator, said it would have been virtually impossible to contain the flames.  He said the house was filled with papers and other flammable debris.  "Really, I think the fire department acted fine," he said.

This sad story is part of our family story. Don Grisso, was my mother's youngest brother. He and Cyrena were always at family events.

Memorable Exit

Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in Heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy.

This is such a comforting phrase and one our family needed to hear over the past week.

My husband's brother, Jim Tolsdorf, celebrated his 81st birthday with two sibling and their spouses on July 31, 2020.  There were two rhubarb pies for 5 people.  This family loves rhubarb.  It was a good day.  Jim made one pie and later told another sibling that it was probably the last pie he would ever make.  We did not see this as a sign until later.  There other odd comments made that day but nothing to prepare us for his passing.  On Monday, August 3 , he was found by a caregiver who worked three days per week at his home.  There will always be the mystery of when he passed.  But, we all agreed he was ready even if we weren't.

The next week was spent making arrangements, making needed notifications, all that necessary detail that comes when a life is through.  Visitation proceeded as anticipated, but the next day, August 10, 2020 is a day to remember.

Everyone arrived at the funeral home in time for a 10:30 a.m. service.  About half way through the Pastors word of comfort we began to hear rain coming down.  At first this was a sound met happily due to the drought we had been going through.  The lights flickered a bit.  We could hear the wind intensifying.  And then, we could hear sirens off in the distance.  The sirens and the service continued.  The Pastor said he was 4 minutes from the end of his message when the funeral home people said there was a tornado warning (meaning a tornado has been sighted ) and we needed to proceed to the lowest  level of the building. Cell phone lights were our only means of illumination. During the next 20 minutes or so the wind blew furiously. (Later reports stated in some parts of the area winds were clocked at 99 and 106 miles per hour. It was not feasible to leave the building for some time. We were due to drive about a mile to Jim's church for lunch.  The route was littered with branches and whole downed trees.  Passage was a bit tricky but we arrived.  The church was also without power so we ate by tiny candle light which was not as romantic as one might think. ( And of course, the power had gone out before the coffee could be made, but I digress). 

Burial was to be at the Scranton Township Cemetery. Jim joined his wife Ann, who had been interred in 2012 and four generations of ancestors.  It should have been about an hour and one half drive to Scranton.  The burial service was to be at 2:00 p.m.  The Pastor was anxious to go because he wanted to get back to Des Moines where there was limb and tree damage in his own yard.

We left the church with flowers and extra food from the lunch and started north on Interstate 35.  A few miles north of Ankeny the traffic began to slow.  We were seeing semi tractor trailers blown over. We also noticed no traffic coming from the north.  Later information confirmed a semi tractor trailer on fire ahead and 17-18 rollovers.  Having lived in this area years ago we decided we needed to get off the interstate where we could be stranded for what might be hours.  This turned out to be a big mistake.  We made it to the small town of Madrid and were shocked at the sights of the wind effect on corn fields.  Some were totally flat. This is something I had never seen before.  We saw the Grain Elevator in Luther damaged as well as numerous farmsteads. We just kept pointing out the devastation which was unlike anything we had ever seen.  It looked like the aftermath of a tornado but far too wide. Wreckage everywhere.

And then it got worse.  We arrived in Madrid where we planned to take Highway 17 north to Highway 30.  Lights were flashing at the intersection and confusion seemed to be everywhere.  We were unable to turn north because some electrical lines and trees were down on the highway. Our plan was to continue west for a few blocks, turn north another couple blocks and go back east to the highway to get around the problem. So we started through residential blocks and saw more destruction.  At times, trees turned the streets into one lane passages. Others streets provided no passage at all. It was constant.  Tree after tree. Yard after yard. Street after street. Finally, we arrived back to Highway 17 a few blocks north of the intersection.  Turns out the power lines were down much farther to the north. We began our backtrack through the maze of debris. We could not seem to get out of this town. At one spot there was a tree over half the road and another hanging branch on our side of the street. A woman grabbed a branch and pulled it back so we could continue on.

At last we were out of town heading west. We decided to try the west, north, east plan again. After a few miles going west, we turned onto a gravel road going north and took the road east at the intersection.  There were three vehicles ahead of us, one pulling a flatbed trailer.  They didn't seem to know what they were doing.  At last, we determined they were turning around and going back west.  The truck with the trailer, however, was only backing up. It angled from side to side and then back again. Once they were out of the way, we made our way to Highway 17. For as far north as one could see to as far south there was nothing to see but utility poles lying across the highway.  There was now nothing to do but join the parade heading back to the last intersection. We moved at a snails pace for about a mile behind the incompetent driver of the truck and trailer. 

From that point on we made good progress. We were about 45 minutes away from a service that was to start in 15 minutes.  Amazingly, we were not the last to arrive. Finally all the family was there and the Pastor conducted the brief service. Military honors were given by servicemen from Offutt Air Base.  They had arrived one and one half hours early for a service that started almost an hour late.

Our day was wrapped up with a final family gathering at our country home about 8 miles away. There was trepidation driving toward home after all we had seen.  Luckily our only physical damage was a tree across the lane which had been removed by a friend.  We continued to enjoy each other's company, snack a bit, and reminisce about Jim and the unusual day. This was done WITHOUT electricity. 

Our power came back on around 9:30 p.m. which put us in the lucky category.  Power will be out in other areas for days.  The news reported 10 million acres of ruined corn.  We learned this weather phenomenon is called a derecho wind.

Or I suppose we could say that Jim made a memorable exit of this life.

Jim Tolsdorf

 It has been a sad week for my husband, his siblings, nieces and nephews and his brother's children as well as many other relatives and friends.  His brother, Jim, passed away August 3, 2020. This was not an expected passing.

Two siblings and spouses had lunch with Jim on his 81st birthday just a couple of days before he passed.  He enjoyed phone calls and other visits to help him celebrate the day.  The family feels comfortable that we were all able to show love in his last days.

Mary Kate

I have looked for Mary Kate Withrow for years. She was the oldest child of Joseph and Sarah Jane Withrow. Prior to moving to Greene County in 1876, the family lived in Jasper County, Iowa. Mary Kate’s next oldest sibling was Ginerva, my great great grandmother. They were only about a year apart in age. They were both born in Ohio before the young family started west. Ginevra was married  27 May 1875 age 20.  Her just older sister, Mary Kate, died of consumption 29 March 1875, age 21. The Withrow home must have been on a roller coaster of emotions. 

The family left Jasper County and arrived in Greene County in February 1876 just before Ginevra delivered her first child March 23, 1876. ( This was my great grandmother Estella Smith who I have mentioned often).
What happened to Mary Kate? I assumed she was probably buried on the farm where they lived, lost to eternity.

One of the thrilling parts of genealogy study is discovery. A couple of my most thrilling discoveries were finding the manifest for the ship Oldenburg with the name of my husband’s grandfather and family who arrived in Baltimore on 27 May 1892 from Bremen. Germany. Another exciting find was the identification of Carrie Platt. She was my maternal grandmother’s first cousin. I have a great picture of them together. I spent a good year trying to figure out who she was, maybe more.

And now I have located the grave of Mary Kate. She has a lovely stone marking her grave in a little country cemetery called Bethany Cemetery near Sully, Iowa. It has been renamed Dairy Grove Cemetery for what reason I do not know.

Meet a Few of My Cousins

In honor of National Cousins Day I want to share a few photos of some of my many cousins. 

Grisso Cousins in Maui

Wright Cousins in Oregon

Christmas long ago with second cousins.

Favorite Cousins in Favorite Photo

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I don't even know what to say.

July 24, 2020

Happy National Cousins Day.