Wordless Wednesday

Wordless Wednesday

Wordless Wednesday

Wordless Wednesday

Who Are the Skilled Tradesmen in Your Family?

The first Wednesday in May was chosen to celebrate the skilled trades in this country.  A company in Youngstown, Ohio founded National Skilled Trades Day to bring attention to the importance of skilled trades and to the shortage of skilled tradesmen in this country.

So I'm going to write first about my father, who was indeed a skilled tradesman.  He was a mechanic, and by all accounts a very good one.  I knew this from growing up and hearing people talk about his work.  When my family moved to Australia, it was based on his skills as a mechanic.  At the time, Australia was looking for skilled tradesmen to come as potential immigrants, and we qualified because of my father's skills.

This was really brought home to me when I wrote a blog post about my father and included an advertisement from the Sydney Morning Herald (Sydney, New South Wales, Australia) in which he was shown working with a piece of equipment.  A friend of mine who reads my blog immediately recognized the machine as a Sun 1120 Engine Analyzer and said that you had to be a pretty smart mechanic to be able to use one.  My father confirmed that my friend had identified the machine correctly.  I figure if you have an independent assessment of your skills like that, you must actually be pretty good.

Wordless Wednesday

Saturday Night Genealogy Fun: Your (or Your Ancestor's) Personal History Timeline

Tonight's Saturday Night Genealogy Fun challenge from Randy Seaver (via Taneya Koonce, one of my genealogy buds) sounds like a fun exercise.

Your mission, should you decide to accept it (cue the Mission:  Impossible! music) is:

1.  Taneya Koonce wrote a happy birthday post about her own life in Quick Tip:  Create Your Personal History Timeline:  The Birthday Edition 🥳.  What a great birthday idea.

2.  This week, write your own personal history timeline:  every 5 or 10 years, or the most important events.  If you don't want to do yours, write a history timeline for one of your ancestors.

3.  Share your personal timeline in your own blog post or in a Facebook, SubStack, BlueSky, or other social media post.  Leave a link to your post on this blog post to help us find your post.

Thank you, Taneya, for the idea!

Here's mine!

1962 (age 0):  I was born in Los Angeles, California in the County Hospital, the first child of Bertram Lynn Sellers, Jr. and Myra Roslyn Meckler.  My mother listed her address on my birth certificate as being in Whittier, which is where my godmother lived.  I don't know if my parents actually lived with her or if that was strictly a contact address.  I don't remember anything about Whitter.  I do remember County Hospital, only because many years later I volunteered in a pharmaceutical test and went there for the visits.

1967 (age 5):  My family was living at 537 Lochmere Avenue, La Puente, California.  We apparently were at that address at least from sometime in 1964, when my sister was born, until some point in 1968.  Also in the family was my brother who was born in 1963.  At the age of 5 I was probably in kindergarten.  I don't recall anything about kindergarten.

1972 (age 10):  In 1972 when I turned 10 my family was living in either Maroubra Junction or Pagewood, both suburbs of Sydney, New South Wales, Australia.  I was attending 5th grade at Woollahra Demonstration School, a school for advanced students that had 5th and 6th grades.  I remember having a sewing class and a physical education class, although I don't remember the names of my teacher(s).  Somewhere I still have my school uniform and my physical education uniform, along with some of the projects I made in my sewing class.

1977 (age 15):  My family lived in Villa Tasso, Florida and had been there for about four years.  I was in 10th grade, attending Niceville Senior High School.  I was in advanced classes; I may have taken calculus that year.  I think my elective was French.  My siblings and I took the school bus 10 miles into Niceville to attend school.  I was a social misfit and did not attend school events.  I think I was working at my grandfather's stamp and coin store.

1982 (age 20):  I was living in Los Angeles, California in the dormitory at the University of Southern California during the academic year.  I was a junior and was on track to graduate the next year as a French major.  I was a work-study student in the Office of Overseas Studies; my boss was Connie Horak.  That summer I went on a student exchange program to Bordeaux, France and managed to take a one-day trip to San Sebastian, Spain.  At the end of the trip, when all the students gathered in Paris, we found a theater that was screening Pink Floyd — The Wall, which was even more surreal with French subtitles.  We went to see The Rocky Horror Picture Show in another theater, where we totally flummoxed the French attendees by doing all of the participatory things people do here.  When I returned from France I went to San Antonio, Texas to visit my family; I almost didn't recognize my mother at the airport, as she had gained a significant amount of weight after quitting smoking.  Back in Los Angeles I worked in the dorm cafeteria at the end of the summer and lived in one of the fraternity houses, which rented out rooms to bring in some money.

1987 (age 25):  In 1987 I was still in Los Angeles; I was either living in a small apartment or had moved to the lower half of a duplex with three housemates.  I had a female gray Russian blue-Persian mix cat named Tamara.  I was working at USC in the French and Italian Department and was in the Trojan Marching Band (The Greatest Marching Band in the History of the Universe).  One of my work-study students in the department was Brian Rhodes; we were co-uniform managers for the band.  At the beginning of the year the band had gone to Florida to support the USC football team, which had competed in the Florida Citrus Bowl.

1992 (age 30):  In 1989 I had moved to Berkeley, California; in 1992 I was living in an in-law house at the back part of a property there.  I still had Tamara.  I was working at Chessex Manufacturing in Berkeley, where I was the assistant production manager.  To celebrate my 30th birthday I took a trip to Hawaii with my then-boyfriend.  We were there when the Rodney King riots occurred; it was surreal to watch the news and see parts of Los Angeles where I had lived being burned, etc.

1997 (age 35):  I bought a house in Oakland in 1993, and I was still there in 1997.  The boyfriend from 1992 was now a former boyfriend but still one of my best friends, and he was my housemate.  I was working at Chaosium in Oakland, where I was an editrix and the convention schnook.  I think the pets in the house were dogs named Cody and Kirby and cats named Hank and Napoleon.  I don't remember anything distinctive about the year, though.

2002 (age 40):  I was still in the house in Oakland, although who else was living there had changed.  The housemate/former boyfriend had moved out; I had had two other housemates in the interim, but I think I was the only person at this time.  Hank and Kirby were still with me, but I had surrendered Cody to the Humane Society because she no longer got along with Kirby.  Napoleon had died a couple of years previously.  I had added a new cat named Sassafras, Sassy for short.  I was no longer working at Chaosium but had moved on to the Seismological Society of America, a scientific membership association, where I was the publications coordinator and the junior Web geek.  My friends helped me celebrate my 40th birthday by throwing a big party at a Mexican restaurant whose name is not coming back to me at the moment.  I also had started volunteering regularly at the Oakland Family History Center two years earlier, and I spent a lot of time there researching and helping others.

2007 (age 45):  Still in the house in Oakland, but at a different job.  I was working for a transcription company in downtown Oakland, where I learned a lot about the history of Kaiser, who was one of our major clients.  I also commuted for the first time in my life by bus, which was a much better choice than trying to find parking near the office.  Hank, Sassy, and Kirby were still there, along with another cat, Noodle, plus a guinea pig named Pulga.  I also had added birds:  Peaches (blue and gold macaw), Ray (sun conure), and Zach (green-cheeked conure).  Having eight pets was enough to keep me busy when I wasn't at work or the Family History Center.

2012 (age 50):  Still in Oakland, amazingly enough, considering how much my family moved when I was a kid.  The pet line-up had changed, though:  Ray, Zach, Hank, Sassy, Kirby, and Pulga had all passed away.  I still had Peaches and Noodle, and Caesar and Brandy had joined the family.  Just before I turned 50, I started training to become a train operator at BART, which I really enjoyed.  My friend Anne set up a huge surprise for my 50th birthday; at a costume event commemorating the launch of the RMS Titanic, she managed to coordinate having a band play "Happy Birthday" and about 150 people singing along.  I had announced I wanted a fuss for my birthday, and I certainly got one!

2017 (age 55):  The big event for me in 2017 was moving from Oakland, California to Gresham, Oregon, which I did at the end of the summer, arriving at 9:30 a.m. on September 1.  I still had the same furred and feathered children:  Noodle, Brandy, Peaches, and Caesar.  I sold my house in Oakland and found a similar-sized one in Gresham that had enough room for me, the pets, and all my belongings (which took more than an entire truckload to bring here).  The early part of the year was spent preparing for the move, and the months after arrival were taken up with unpacking as much as I could.  But I did start volunteering at the local Family History Center within two weeks of arriving, and by the time I moved here all five of my grandchildren were within relatively easy driving distance.

2022 (age 60):  This was during COVID, so not a lot was going on anywhere.  I had shoulder surgery in 2020, during the heart of COVID, and was still recovering from it for the majority of the year (it usually takes about two years to fully recover from shoulder surgery, and it did this time).  So on top of COVID, I wasn't doing much of anything else anyway.  The list of pets changed again.  Noodle died in 2018, only a few months after we moved, and I added Frankie to the household to be company for Brandy.  Then a macaw needed a home in 2020, and I welcomed my first female bird, Angel.  Later that same year Brandy passed away, and I fell in love with a gorgeous little female Siamese.  Unfortunately, she and Frankie didn't exactly get along, so they lived in two different parts of the house.

And that's my life broken down into 5-year synopses.  As usual, Randy remembers far more details than I do, but I hit the highlights.  All my grandchildren were born in in-between years, and I couldn't figure out how to weave that in well.  Maybe I'll revise this post later after thinking about it for a while.

The Second Tuesday of Next Week

The International
Date Line

While I was growing up, my mother was known for using interesting turns of phrase.  She would talk about the "oneth of the month" (the first day of the month).  She and my father both used Spoonerisms deliberately, so we saved Chublip Stamps instead of Blue Chip Stamps and ate chotato pips instead of everyday potato chips.  One of my favorites, though, was my mother threatening to knock us into the second Tuesday of next week when we were being, um, precocious.  But, of course, there is no second Tuesday of the week.

Until there was!

When my family moved to Australia in 1971, we flew on a Pan Am 747 and crossed over the International Date Line.  When we did that, the day we lost was a Tuesday.

When we returned to the United States in 1973, we took a Greek cruise ship, and of course we had to cross the International Date Line again.  On that trip across the date line, we happened to repeat a Tuesday.  So not only did we make up for the Tuesday we lost, we finally had the second Tuesday of next week!

And yes, we gave my mother a bunch of crap about all the times she had said that to us.  She had somehow finally succeeded in knocking us into the second Tuesday of next week.

Unfortunately, my parents have both passed away, and neither my brother nor I remember the specific Tuesday we repeated.  But we know we came back in March, and the Tuesdays in March 1973 were 6, 13, 20, and 27.  So I picked today to write about it.

And I am pretty sure my mother would love the fact that I still remember.

My First Musical Instrument Was the Recorder

I bet it was for a lot of people.  Wasn't it a standard thing around 3rd or 4th grade to introduce young students to music by teaching them to play the recorder?

I always figured that had become established because the recorder is a relatively easy instrument to learn to play (although it does take time and effort to learn to play well, without sounding like a screeching cat; recorders are kind of like clarinets in that way).  Once they were available in plastic, they were also pretty affordable.

Whatever the original impetus for schools was, I think I learned to play in the 4th grade, while I lived in Australia.  I don't remember the recorder from when I was in the 3rd grade in California.

And why am I writing about recorders today?  I guess you didn't know that today is Play the Recorder Day, did you?

Play the Recorder Day (PtRD), celebrated on the third Saturday of March, grew out of a one-day event held in 1989 to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the American Recorder Society (ARS).  ARS started PtRD in 1992, to be an annual event.  Play the Recorder Month came after that, just to promote the recorder even more.

I have to admit, after originally learning to play recorder, I didn't do too much with it, even though I kept my instrument through several moves (kind of like keeping my Barbie dolls).  That was until I started participating in the Renaissance Pleasure Faire (the vestiges of which are currently called the Original Renaissance Pleasure Faire and owned by a for-profit corporation, but not the for-profit corporation that bought it when the original in which I participated ran into financial problems and was sold).

And hey, I suddenly had a place where I could play my recorder!  So I did!  And I had a lot of fun!

We didn't use plastic recorders at the Faire, of course, because they wouldn't have that "period" look.  I found a very nice wood recorder and played in the opening and closing parades.

I continued to play for several years.  I became interested in expanding my range from the standard alto recorder and picked up a soprano recorder.  I experimented a bit with tenor and bass recorders also.  I could produce decent notes on a tenor, but I had problems with the bass.  I never invested in purchasing either one, though, sticking to my alto and soprano recorders.

I haven't played either of my reorders in many years, but when I found out about Play the Recorder Day, it encouraged me to reminisce and document a little bit more of my personal history.

Hooray for Barbie!

No, I'm not talking about the movie (which I have seen, and once will be enough, thank you very much, dear daughter-in-law).  I'm talking about the actual doll.

March 9 is National Barbie Day because the Barbie doll was introduced at the American International Toy Fair on March 9, 1959, so today is Barbie's 66th birthday, making her older than I am, if not by much.

I don't remember if Barbie was my first doll — I might have had a baby doll before that? — but she was the first doll I remember, and I still have my first Barbie.  I think my second doll was a Stacey, which I recall as a redhead.  (I might have been given Stacey as a gift because my sister's name is Stacy.  Hey, they should have come out with a Laurie doll!)  Number three I believe was Midge.

I have taken my dolls with me from California to Australia, when my family moved there, then back to the United States when we returned in 1973, and across country when I moved back to California in 1979.  Then they moved with me from Los Angeles to Oakland in 1989, and up to Oregon in 2017.  I have never left a single doll behind.

I never got into the collectible Barbies, because I didn't want to leave them in the packaging ("never removed from box").  I wanted to take them out and play with them!  I have only one collectible Barbie, which a friend bought me for Christmas one year.  It's Barbie as Scarlett O'Hara in Gone with the Wind, in the green and white barbecue dress.  And yes, I took her out of the box.

Barbie is what really got me into sewing.  I had a sewing class in the 5th grade while my family lived in Australia, and when we came back to the States I started making clothes for my dolls.  I have dozens of patterns for Barbie clothes, most of them officially licensed by Mattel and produced by the big pattern companies.  The majority are from Simplicity, some are from McCall's, and a few others are from different companies.  I also have a few unofficial patterns, including some for Elizabethan clothing a friend gave to me when we were both performing at an Elizabethan faire.

Unfortunately, most of my dolls are still boxed up and in storage from when I moved to Oregon.  Not long after my arrival I tore my rotator cuff, and I've never regained the momentum I had for unpacking since then (it was probably the momentum that caused the tear in the first place).  But I've been adding to my collection since discovering groups such as Buy Nothing on Facebook.  It is amazing how many people give away Barbies and their accessories.  Now I have things I could never afford when I was younger, such as a Barbie airplane, car, condo, and house.  Soon I will be adding an RV!

One of my recent acquisitions, obtained specifically to pair with my dolls, is a dollhouse in the style of Victorian painted ladies.  I'll need to find (or make?) some patterns for Victorian clothing so that my dolls will look totally at home in their beautiful residence.

j

Happy Birthday, Sydney Opera House!

Today, October 20, 2024, is the 51st anniversary of the opening of the iconic Sydney Opera House.  While my family lived in Australia, the building was coming closer to completion, and we apparently went there one day, because my father took photographs.  Maybe it was an "open to the public day" to get people excited?

I think that's me in the lower left corner.

We left Australia in early 1973 (I really need to find out what day it was and when we arrived back in the United States), several months before the opening and inauguration, and so did not have the opportunity to go inside or attend anything.  According to Wikipedia, in 1973 they were finishing the interiors of the building.  The outside certainly looks pretty finished in my father's photos.

When I visited Australia in 1988 with the USC Marching Band, we went on a tour of the building, which was beautiful.  I'm sure I took photos, but I haven't found any.  And I can't find any 1988 Opera House photos in USCTMB stuff online, just one from the year 2000.  Well, foo.

But this is a photo of the band in Brisbane, where we performed at Expo '88.  I guess that will have to do.

Seeking Assistance with a Hyena, a Shipwreck, Woodbine, and Route 66

This year National Volunteer Week runs from April 21 through 27.  The week, observed in Canada and the United States, is designed to honor volunteers and the contributions they make.  I use it to highlight the work that volunteers do within the family history world and projects that can currently use their assistance.  And I know about a few projects right now that would like your help, if you have the information they're looking for.

Judith A. Yates is a criminologist who is writing an all-encompassing book on Irma Grese, the "Hyena of Auschwitz."  She is seeking people to interview who came into contact with Grese, who was employed at:

• Ravensbruck, July 1942 to March 1943
• Auschwitz, March 1943 to January 1945 (mostly at Bergen-Belsen)
• Belsen, March 1945

Yates would also like to interview:

• people who attended the Belsen trials
• people who know about Grese's home town, Wrechen (Neubrandenburg County), North Germany
• people who can discuss the general life of female guards at either camp (behavior, where they lived, how they lived, etc.)
• people who did not have personal dealings with Grese but knew "of" her personally
• family members of survivors
• anyone who can provide information, including photos and documents

You may contact Yates at truecrimebook@yahoo.com.  Her site is http://www.judithayates.com/.

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Descendants of victims from an Australian shipwreck are being sought to share their stories.

The SS Nemesis disappeared in 1904 on its way from Newcastle, New South Wales to Melbourne, Victoria.  Thirty-two crew members were on board the ship, and they left behind more than 40 children.

The ship's wreckage was found in 2022 and confirmed to be the Nemesis this year.  After the first call for descendants, twenty grandchildren and great-grandchildren, from almost every Australian state, came forward, including relatives of the ship's captain.  Heritage NSW is asking more relatives to share their stories so they can be saved and archived.

An article about this story has more details and includes contact information for Heritage NSW.

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Do you remember Route 66?  (I don't, I'm too young!)  Have any great stories?  The National Trust for Historic Preservation wants you to share those stories so they won't be forgotten!

Leading up to Route 66's centennial in 2026, the National Trust is hoping to receive (at least) 2,026 stories to celebrate the famous highway, and it's asking community members, travelers, historians, and everyone else to contribute.  More details and a link to the submission form can be found here, along with many stories and photos that have already been shared.

[I just discovered by reading the Wikipedia page about Route 66 that it was established on November 11, 1926.  Although this was commemorated as Armistice Day, it was not yet a holiday (that didn't happen until 1938).  And November 11 is a special day in my family because it was my mother's birthday.]

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Stephen A. Diamond, Ph.D. of New York City is in the planning stages to film a documentary about the Jewish Agricultural Colony of Woodbine, New Jersey.  The filming is likely to happen this summer, but the exact scope and content are still under discussion.  He is looking for descendants and others from the extended Woodbine family who have anecdotal information or memorabilia related to the colony to share that information and/or to participate in the documentary.  You may contact him at diamondesllc@gmail.com.

Saturday Night Genealogy Fun: Christmas Weather

Tonight's topic from Randy Seaver for Saturday Night Genealogy Fun should be interesting!

Come on, everybody, join in and accept the mission and execute it with precision.  Here's your chance to sit on Genea-Santa's lap (virtually) and tell him about your Christmas weather experiences:

1.  What Christmas-time weather have you experienced?  Does it snow at Christmas time where you live?  What are the likely temperatures at Christmas time??

2. Tell us about them in your own blog post, in a comment on this post, or in a Facebook Status post.  Please leave a link on this post if you write your own post.

My Christmas weather experiences cover a range of very different locations.

From when I was born to just before I turned 9, my family lived in east Los Angeles County.  So Christmas weather was similar to Randy's experience in San Diego:  warm and sunny, mild and cloudy, to cool and rainy.  The closest we came to snow was when my father and Uncle Tony drove up to Mt. Baldy in a pickup truck, filled the back with snow, and came back with it.  We played in it for a while, but I suspect it melted relatively quickly.

From Los Angeles my family moved to Sydney, New South Wales, Australia and lived there and in the suburbs for two years.  This is another location with warm and sunny or mild and cloudy weather in the winter, but in the Southern Hemisphere, Christmas comes during the summer!  So we had beautiful summer weather for Christmas for two years.

Back to the Northern Hemisphere, I next lived for six years in and near Niceville, Florida, in about the middle of the Florida Panhandle, with my family.  Although most people think "hot and muggy" when they think of Florida, the Panhandle does actually experience winter.  We regularly had below-freezing temperatures at some point during the winter, but mostly it was cool and rainy for Christmas.  On January 19, 1977, which I realize is after Christmas, we had one day with enough snow that it actually stuck when it hit the ground and did not melt immediately (that's also the day there were snow flurries in Miami).  We got the rest of the day off from school, but by the time everyone got home, the snow was gone.

After Florida I moved back to Los Angeles.  The weather had not changed in the intervening years, although it wasn't quite as smoggy as it had been.  On the other hand, I was in South Central Los Angeles, not east Los Angeles County, so that might have explained the improvement in the air.

I lived in Los Angeles for ten years and then headed north to Berkeley.  I was there for almost four years and then bought a house in Oakland, where I stayed for 24 1/2 years.  Christmas in the Bay Area was often rainy and almost always slightly cool.  I never saw snow where I lived, but I believe that sometimes in the Berkeley and Oakland hills they occasionally had dustings of snow.

And now I'm even further north, in the Portland Metro area of Oregon.  I'm in Gresham, east of Portland and at the west end of the Columbia River Gorge, so it's usually a little colder here than in Portland proper.  It is normal for the area to have at least a day or two of snow during the winter, sometimes around Christmas.  My first year here we had a hard freeze with no snow on Christmas, and I was stuck in my house for three days with the cats and the birds.  But a couple of years ago we had a beautiful blanket of snow in the front and back yards for Christmas, and it was beautiful.

Smoking versus Not Smoking

Image by Alexas_Fotos

Today, November 16, is the 2023 observation of the Great American Smokeout, observed on the third Thursday of November, one week before Thanksgiving.  The day is meant to get tobacco smokers to quit smoking, either by quitting that day, not smoking for just that day (as a first step), or making plans to quit.  (And when will we start trying to get pot smokers to stop that smoking????)

I grew up with smokers.  Both of my parents smoked, and my mother's best friend, Aunt Sam, also smoked.  I remember at least one or two years that my mother asked my brother, my sister, and me what we wanted for Christmas, and we responded, "We want you and Daddy to quit smoking!"  To which my mother replied, "Yeah, what do you really want?"  So even when we were very young, well under 10 years old, we knew smoking wasn't good for people.

Yet sometimes you get what you wish for.

Shortly after my family moved to Australia in 1971, my mother and father made a bet with each other about who could quit smoking longer.  I have absolutely no memory of what prompted their bet.  Maybe cigarettes cost significantly more in Australia and they wanted to save money?  Whatever the reason, they made the bet.

My father gave up after three days.

My mother, even though she had already won the bet, continued not to smoke.

And became more and more irritable and unpleasant to be around.

To the point that we children actually begged her to start smoking again.

Which she finally did.  And became our regular mother again.

And there was great rejoicing.

Don't get me wrong.  I know smoking is bad for people.  It's better for your health to stop, sooner rather than later.

But sometimes there are extenuating circumstances.

Saturday Night Genealogy Fun: Four Things!

Well, I certainly haven't posted in a while!  My last post was January 15 for my blogiversary, and before that it was December 1.  I have nothing but my health to blame, but I've decided I need to start writing again anyway, and what better day to start than on my birthday?  I turned 60 today, and coincidentally Randy Seaver provided a theme for Saturday Night Genealogy Fun that works nicely with a birthday — writing about myself.  So let's get back in the blogging habit!

Your mission, should you decide to accept it (cue the Mission:  Impossible! music here), is:

1.  Let's have some genealogy fun tonight and answer some family-history-related questions with four responses (Four Things!).

2.  Share your answers with us in your own blog, in a Facebook or Instagram post, or in the comments on this blog post.  Please leave a link to anything you post elsewhere in a comment.

Okay, here are my answers.

Four Names I Go By
1.  Janice
2.  Jan-Jan (but only for my maternal grandmother)
3.  Bubbie
4.  Amanda Rycroft (Faire character)

Four Places I've Lived (Resided)
1.  Maroubra Junction, New South Wales, Australia
2.  Niceville, Florida
3.  Oakland, California
4.  Gresham, Oregon

Four Ancestral Places I Have Been
1.  Mount Holly, New Jersey
2.  Manhattan, New York
3.  Miami, Florida
4.  Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Four Interesting Places I Have Been
1.  Athens, Greece
2.  San Sebastian, Spain
3.  Melbourne, Victoria, Australia
4.  Tallinn, Estonia

Four Favorite Ancestors
1.  Ann (Ridgway) Gaunt, 1710–1794
2.  Gershon Itzhak Novitsky, ~1858–1948
3.  Minnie Zelda (Nowicki) Meckler, ~1880–1936
4.  Moses Mulliner, 1741–1821

Four Favorite Genealogy Record Collections
1.  Historical newspapers
2.  Religious records (all, not just BMD!)
3.  Probate files
4.  Military pensions and service records

Saturday Night Genealogy Fun: Your "Place Line"

Randy Seaver is floating a new concept tonight for Saturday Night Genealogy Fun.

Here is your assignment, should you decide to accept it (you ARE reading this, so I assume that you really want to play along; cue the Mission:  Impossible! music!):

(1) We're all familiar with timelines — date, location, event, etc. — for events in our lives.  This week, create a Place Line for your life, or for the life of one of your parents or grandparents — your choice!  In that Place Line, tell us the location (address if possible), inclusive dates (if possible), and events.  Consider categories such as residences, schools, churches, employment, etc.

(2) Tell us about it in your own blog post, in a comment to this post, or in a Facebook Status post.  Please leave a link in a comment to this post.

Place lines, huh?  Well, let's see where this goes.

Residences

• Well, I could copy them all again, but since I created a list of my residences for a Saturday Night Genealogy Fun post a mere four years ago, I figure I'll put a link to that post:  Janice's residences through August 31, 2017.

• As I mentioned at the end of that post, the total was 27 residences, and I was about to move to my 28th.  That's where I still am, 1009 NE 196th Avenue in Gresham, Oregon, as of September 1, 2017.  I plan to stay here another 20 years or so.

Schools

• Hey, what do you know?  In February 2017, for Saturday Night Genealogy Fun Randy had us write about all the places we went to school!  So here's a link to that post:  Janice's schools from 1967–2000.  I have not added any formal education to my list since that time.

Churches

Well, this is a really short list.

• While my family lived in Pomona, I occasionally used to go to church with the Lamey family, who lived across the street.  I think it was an Episcopalian church, but don't hold me to that, and I have no idea what the address could have been.  This would have been in late 1970 and early 1971.

• When we moved to Niceville, Florida, I went regularly (at least for a while, probably 1973 to maybe 1974) to the First Baptist Church (now the First Baptist Church on Bayshore), 622 Bayshore Drive, which was across the street from my grandfather's house.  We probably went there because that's where Grandpa went.  I remember the church had a bus that went around town and picked people up; I boarded in the trailer park where we were living.  I had perfect attendance on the bus (don't remember how long that took) and earned a personalized King James Bible.  Not long after that I stopped going, not because my goal had been to earn the Bible, but because I just couldn't take that much organized religion.

And that's it for me and churches.  I have never attended a synagogue on a regular basis; I think I've been to services two or three times in my life (and one of those was in Paris, France).  I never saw my mother in a synagogue, but I went to Midnight Mass with her more than once while we lived in Niceville, at what was probably the only Catholic church there at the time.

Employment

• Another great coincidence!  For Labor Day a few years ago, I created a list of the jobs I have held, and that post is right here.  I have nothing to add to the list since leaving BART as a train operator.

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I don't have as many actual addresses as Randy does.  As usual, I am impressed with the amount of detail Randy remembers about years past, while I am lagging behind quite a bit in that department.  But I did find it amusing that I had already created three of the lists he suggested for tonight's post.  And now I have collated that information together so one of my relatives can learn where I lived, was educated, and worked.

Saturday Night Genealogy Fun: Your Father's Work History

As I expected, with today being the day before Father's Day, Randy Seaver has chosen fathers as the theme for Saturday Night Genealogy Fun:

Your mission, should you decide to accept it (cue the Mission:  Impossible! music), is:

(1) Sunday, 19 June, is Father's Day.  Let's celebrate by writing a blog post about your father, or another significant male ancestor (e.g., a grandfather).

(2) What was your father's occupation?  What jobs did he have throughout his life?  Do you know his work history?

(3) Tell us all about it in your own blog post, in a comment to this post, or in a Facebook Status post.

I don't have a detailed work history about my father.  Unlike my grandfather, who created a chronological listing of every job he had held, my father didn't do anything similar (but then again, who does?).

What I do know is that most of the jobs my father held during his life had something to do with cars.  During his younger years, most of those jobs were as a mechanic.  While my family lived in the Los Angeles area, he owned at least one garage of his own, and I suspect he worked at more for other people.

While we lived in Australia, he was again a mechanic.  (In fact, that's part of the reason we moved to Australia, because they were looking for skilled tradesmen at the time as potential immigrants.)  I know the name of one place he worked:  Frank Woodham Ford in Maroubra Junction, a suburb of Sydney, New South Wales.  And I know that because a photo of my father working with a Sun 1120 Engine Analyzer (probably spelled Analyser in Australia?) was used by Woodham Ford in a newspaper advertisement, and my father saved a copy.  I used that photo with a blog post (coincidentally, one for Father's Day), and a fellow BART train operator recognized the machine.

When my family returned to the United States in 1973, my father was still a mechanic.  He had his own garage again by 1975, in Niceville, Florida, because that's where my family and my father's business partner sheltered during Hurricane Eloise.

As he started getting older and his arthritis became worse, he really couldn't do the mechanical work anymore.  I know he worked in at least one auto parts store for a while.  I think that was in Fort Walton Beach.

Part of the reason I'm having trouble remembering a lot of specifics was that my father's work history was apparently a little sketchy.  I remember him telling me when he hit retirement age that he was shocked to learn he had never worked more than five years at any job.  While that is not unusual nowadays, especially in the tech field, for someone born in 1935, it was not common.  He started selling stuff on eBay to help supplement his Social Security income; I don't know if that counts as a "job."

My Uncle Gary

Gary Steve Meckler, February 12, 1951–July 24, 2019
Photo: Hot August Nights, Reno, Nevada, August 12, 2018

Last week, on July 24, my aunt called me to let me know that my uncle Gary had died that day.  He had been ill for some time, more than he had let on.

My mother was the oldest child, so both of her brothers were younger than she was.  Gary was the younger of the two, born seven years after his older brother and eleven years after my mother.  I asked my grandmother about that age gap once, and she admitted that Gary had been a little bit of a "surprise."

Gary's Hebrew names were Gershon Sholem.  Gershon was for his father's maternal grandfather (my great-great-grandfather), Gershon Itzhak Nowicki (Novitsky here in the United States).  Sholem is more complicated.  That was for his mother's sister-in-law's mother, Scheindel.

These are a few of my favorite memories of Gary.

My mother was close to her family, so my siblings and I grew up knowing her side of the family well.  Gary visited us several times while we lived in California.  He was kind of like an older brother for my brother, my sister, and me because the age difference wasn't that big.  He taught us to eat ketchup on our scrambled eggs and gave us the phrase, "You don't cheat fair!"

Gary even visited us while we lived in Australia.  He brought us a present, a book titled 101 Alphabets.  It was mostly alphabets in different fonts and styles, but one of the examples was the Greek alphabet.  So I learned the Greek alphabet when I was 10, because I thought it was pretty cool, and because my uncle gave us the book.  I think I still have the book.

One of my favorite photos of Gary is from when he was stationed in Vietnam with the U.S. Army.  I love snakes, and I still think this is a fantastic photo.  I don't know if Gary had a copy of this of his own, because when I posted it on my blog several years ago, he saved my digital copy and posted it to his Facebook page.

We will all miss Gary very much.

Saturday Night Genealogy Fun: Favorite Winter Activity Growing Up

After a couple of weeks of "classics", Randy Seaver has a new topic this week for Saturday Night Genealogy Fun.

Here is your assignment, if you choose to play along (cue the Mission:  Impossible! music, please!):

(1) Winter arrives this month all over the northern hemisphere, and the daily routines of work, education, and play change along with the seasons.  

(2) What were your favorite winter activities when you were a child and teenager and young adult?

(3) Share your memories on your own blog post, in a Facebook post, or in a comment on this post.  Please leave a link as a comment on this post if you write your own blog post so that everyone can read all about it.

Thank you to Linda Stufflebean for suggesting this topic.

I grew up in warm-weather areas — Los Angeles County; Sydney, Australia; and Florida — so the types of things that people think of as "winter activities" weren't usually something we did.  Sure, we might get some rain (and it actually can get below freezing in the Florida Panhandle, which is where I used to live), but overall not the kinds of locations that come to mind when you say "winter."  Neither of my parents were into ice skating or skiing, so we didn't go anywhere to do that.

But while my family lived in Los Angeles County (we were there until 1971), we did have a tradition for at least a couple of years where my father and Uncle Tony (not really our uncle, but a close friend of my father) drove up to Mount Baldy (which I've just learned is officially named Mount San Antonio; never heard that name before!) in a pickup truck and filled the truck bed with snow.  They then brought the snow back to the house, and we were able to play with it for a while before it melted.  I don't remember if it lasted long enough for us to make anything resembling a snowman, though!

As a young adult I lived in California again, actually in Los Angeles, so it was still pretty temperate in the winter.  I think the closest thing I had to a winter activity was spending Christmas break visiting my parents while I was still in college.  At least that's all I can remember now.

Saturday Night Genealogy Fun: How Did You Get to School?

I am revisiting my childhood for this week's Saturday Night Genealogy Fun from Randy Seaver:

Here is your assignment, if you choose to play along (cue the Mission:  Impossible! music, please!):

(1)  How did you get to your school(s) through high school?

(2) Tell us in your own blog post, in a comment to this post, or on Facebook or Google+.  Please leave a comment on this post with a link to your post.

It's obvious from Randy's comment about having gone to three schools (only three!) that his family didn't move around as much as mine did (there's a reason my mother earned the nickname "the wandering Jew").  Let me see how many I can recall . . . .

I don't really remember how I traveled to elementary school, or actually how many schools I attended during the years my family lived in California.  We left in March 1971 while I was in 3rd grade.  I know I was at Rorimer Elementary in 1st grade; that is in La Puente.  When we moved to Pomona I'm sure I went to a different school, so that's at least two.  I think I went by bus when I lived in Pomona.  Maybe my mother drove me (and my sister?) to Rorimer, or maybe my sister's mother did?  I guess I should ask my sister about that to see what she remembers.  But there may have been a school between Rorimer and Pomona.

In Australia I attended two elementary schools:  Daceyville Public School for the 4th grade (which I was in for only the second half of the school year) and Woollahra Demonstration School for the 5th grade.  I remember my mother driving me to Woollahra, because she complained about it, but there may have been a bus to Daceyville.

When my family returned to the United States, we moved to Niceville, Florida.  I had three months of the 6th grade, at James E. Plew Elementary School.  (And for those who are counting, that makes at least five elementary schools I attended.)  I rode the bus to school there.

I remember telling my mother that whether she moved or not, I wanted to go to the same school for all my years of junior high school and high school and not have to be the "new kid" in school.  I actually managed to accomplish that.  I rode the bus to school at C. W. Ruckel Junior High School and Niceville Senior High School, even after we moved 10 miles from Niceville out to Villa Tasso.  We moved while I was still in junior high school.  The school bus picked us up in Villa Tasso on County Line Road, because Niceville is in Okaloosa County and Villa Tasso is in Walton County, just over the county line.

When there was really bad rain, however, my mother sometimes drove us to school from Villa Tasso, because we didn't have paved roads, and they often flooded in the rain, so we couldn't safely walk to the bus stop.  And if the temperature was below zero (which does happen in the Florida panhandle) she might drive us also.  Sometimes she just drove us to the bus stop, though.

Until now, I have never thought about whether we were actually in the residence area for Niceville schools once we moved to Villa Tasso.  We must have been, because the bus came out there.  And really, we were so far away from everything else in Walton County that it wouldn't have been practical for Walton to bus us anywhere.  I guess the counties worked out something.