Time Out for Family (and Family History) Instead
I’m in the middle of my first vacation from writing. It’s so rare, I thought I’d make a post about it. I’ve been writing nonstop since I started nearly three years ago. Only now and then, do I allow myself a day off. Never a week!
Do you worry about taking a long break from writing and losing your momentum; losing those carefully woven threads that latch onto your brain like tentacles constantly tapping out scenes? My pod people have been prominent in my head since they first made an appearance and demanded I write their stories. I wake up most mornings with a scene playing out from one of my works in progress and can’t wait to sit down and pound it out at the computer.
This week, I let those tentacles detach and float away. My characters receded, and I enjoyed time with my family.
We had a beautiful June wedding last weekend. A family member offered up their stunning property in front of Mount Shasta and the weather cleared that day for a perfect photo op. They worked unbelievably hard and unselfishly putting it all together.
Joey MacLennan is a lifestyle photographer, and this scenery couldn’t have been more perfect for his wedding to my niece.
The next morning, my 81 year old dad served up sourdough pancakes to nearly 30 people, with some help from others, of course. But still, way to go Dad!
The Family History Part of my Week
Then, I came home and stayed in that family zone by going through boxes of photos and uploading them to my Ancestry tree.
I’ve been building my family history in Ancestry.com for close to fifteen years. My father’s mother got me started when she handed over several boxes of family photos. Very old photos. Both her lines go back to Colonial America; Virginia and North Carolina, one as far back as 1610. That ancestor was a colonist who made several trips back to England to recruit more colonists for the Crown, which garnered him more land. The first such voyage was on the ship that crashed off the coast of Bermuda. The passengers all survived and built two smaller ships before making it the rest of the way back to Virginia where they found the colony nearly decimated. I’ve always wanted to travel to Bermuda and see the replica of the Deliverance. The shipwreck is said to be the inspiration behind Shakespeare’s The Tempest.
Another ancestor served in the North Carolina militia during the Revolutionary War, two tours, was captured by the British and escaped. I’ve seen images of his pay vouchers, though I lost track of them. His offspring migrated to the southern Indiana Territory in 1808. My fourth great grandfather (one of the offspring) built his home by a spring (a plaque memorializes Organ Springs and the mill that was torn down there in 1946) and lived in that house until age 95. It’s said when he came to New Albany, it was all woods, just one store, a blacksmith shop and a cabin or two. My third great grandmother raised her family next door.
Sadly, I’ve never been there. All my information comes from Ancestry cousins I’ve corresponded with, my own research, and stories from the family boxes. I acquired a copy of the Salem Democrat’s Pioneer Pickings, September 6, 1876, which features an interview with David Voiles (below), “one of the old men and old settlers of this county.”
David said he was “a descendant of ‘imported stock’. His father was a Welshman, and his mother was an Italian, and that the peculiar traits of both nations could yet be seen, more or less, in their descendants.” He said of himself in the early days that “being of an iron constitution and a strong robust physical frame, he, with the aid of his industrious and economical wife got along splendidly.” He described the woods as full of wolves, bear, wild cat, panthers, wild turkey, deer and rattlesnakes. There’s even a story of a bear hunt. He concluded in the present time by saying, “he is now hale and hearty (89 years old)… he always was a democrat and always will be… and expects to vote this fall for the Democratic Ticket and believes that it will be elected, and does not know but that it will be the means of extending his pilgrimage a while longer on this mundane sphere.”
How wonderful is that to have such an account of a pioneer ancestor?
My grandmother and I had so much fun working together on her history up until she passed at 100 and a half years old in 2014.
Then, I slowed down. But by then, I had gained the reputation as the family historian after meticulously confirming photos and uploading them to the matching family member’s profile, building the tree leaf by leaf, then trying to share with others who really don’t get this exercise at all. I’m hoping future generations will benefit from all the hard work.
Lorena Pearl Bury
This Week’s Boxes of Treasures
This week, I finally pulled out three boxes I was given by my Aunt who saved them for me when her husband and my mother (siblings) cleaned out my grandpa’s home seven years ago. Thank you Auntie. If you hadn’t taken a stand, all the treasures would have been thrown out.
I can’t believe they’ve been collecting dust since then. Where has the time gone? Well, I spent hours this week snapping photos of hundreds of photos and records. This time on my Mom’s side of the family.
One favorite ancestor was my grandmother’s grandpa, Commodore Perry Lieuallen, Civil War veteran, Co. G., 12th Tennessee Cavalry. There was a stack of documents he had to submit to get accommodation in the Dakota Soldier’s Home in Hot Springs South Dakota. There are all kinds of colorful stories about Grandpa Lieuallen. First, the papers all spell his name Lewellyn (this is my maternal side – yep I have Lewellyn’s on both sides, no relation… as far as I can tell). Perry apparently changed his spelling when he married in 1870. My uncle had his war issued Smith and Wesson revolver. And he was said to know Calamity Jane and Wild Bill Hickock. But we’ll never know that for sure.
In this batch of photos, I discovered more about the veteran’s home, which still exists today. He was a rancher in Weld County Colorado, but when he died, he lived in a home that was more like a hospital ward with only a bed to his name. He died with $8 in his pocket. Still, his family took him on lots of outings and visited him till the end.
My grandmother, Faith Dorothy Oldenburg. She was the youngest of three girls. Her sisters were ten and twelve years older and she lost her mother at age eight. She and her dad lived in the house above until she graduated high school and went to California to visit a sister who had moved there just prior. She met my grandpa, and here I am.
Thanks to both my grandmothers for preserving those boxes of treasure!
By D. L. Lewellyn 