Shelves

A thin flat piece of material (usually wood) fastened horizontally at a distance from the floor to hold objects is defined a shelf.  Of course, the objects placed upon the shelves are completely left to the one owning the shelf.  The following picture is such a group of shelves.

These shelves belonged to my Granny Ewen.  The picture was taken in the early 1960's. [Not sure of the exact date.]  It contains the items that Granny thought were important to her.

Let's see.  There are cups and plates along the lower most shelf.  It would certainly be helpful in getting to them when all the family was around to eat.

The next shelf contains a radio, clock and some unclear items.   Music and time...or time for music...or just what time is it...could all be handled from this shelf.

The third shelf contains plants.  It looks like ivy.  Plants growing over the plates, clock, radio, and those things below.  Granny must have been a good plant "grower" and "waterer"  to keep things out those objects below.  [She did love plants.]

The forth and fifth selves contain some objects that were probably not needed very often.  Jugs, fancy cups, a plate nailed to the side, etc., etc...those kinds of things you want to show, but not have any touch. [Or break when I was around.]

The shelves of our lives contain all kinds of stuff.   They tell others what is important to us in a way that nothing else can tell.  These were Granny Ewen's shelves.  What do your shelves tell about you?

IT

Can you believe it.  It is just hanging there.  Move it a little this way...that way...ouch it hurts.  I can't sleep...I can't eat...I can't smile because of it.   Dad just wants to grab hold of it and yank it out.   Mom wants to wiggle it a little at a time until it just falls out.  My brother wants to tie a string around it, then tie the other end of the string to the bedroom door knob, and slam the door shut on it.  What...are you kidding me...it won't work.  

Anyway, it has got to come out sometime.  Maybe if I just pretend it doesn't exist...maybe it will just go away... or fall out all by itself.  Nope...doubt it.   Hey...life will go on in spite of it.  Well enough already...it is time to go out and play... or is it?

Special Events

For most of us, the memory of our first pet is special.  It might have been a puppy, or kitten, or fish, or turtle, or even a snake, or some other sort of critter.  But just having that first pet, becomes a special event.  "You will have to feed it"..."You will have to take care of it"..."You will have to train it"..."You will have to clean-up after all its messes"... were often some of the requirements. 

Here is a picture of Linda Carol.  It must have been one of those special events.  A puppy it is.

My puppy...my puppy!   I have got it safely tucked in my arms, and I will feed it, take care of it, and clean up after it, and sleep with it, and...and give all my love.    Not enough hugs to go around.  Here, take this picture of my new puppy and this special event. 

The Real Jewel of Alfred The Great

A Saxon kingdom in southwestern England produced a fellow named Alfred [also spelled Aelfred] who is given the name "Alfred The Great".  He is credited with saving the Saxon world from the Danes, and ignited the Saxon world with learning and literacy. [It is felt by some historians that the writing of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle began during his life (b. 849-d. 899 AD).

An elaborate gold ornament was found in 1693 with an inscription stating: "Alfred ordered me to be made".  Now just imagine what it would be like to be able to order a "gold" ornament consisting of an enameled plague with your figure in the middle, and your "order" written on the side.  It has become known as "The Alfred Jewel".  It measures about 2 and 1/2 inches, with a sketch of it shown above.  It must have been special to Alfred since it was found near Athelney, Somerset where Alfred took refuge from the Danes in 878 AD.

The sketch of this jewel as drawn above is found on the cover of the book published in 1873 and entered according to "Act of Congress" by Leypoldt, Holt & Williams, in the Office of the Librarian of  Congress.  The title page from the book is shown below.

A hand-book of Anglo-Saxon and early English.  At one time it was owned by Winfield S. Moody, Jr. who has written his name in the upper right.  Now it was Alfred who invited scholars to his court to help him make available books that were "...most necessary for all men to know".  He also directed that all young freemen of adequate means must learn to read English in 887 AD.  Can you believe it.  All this time the jewel of Alfred has been felt to reside in a museum at Oxford clasped in gold and enamel.  But old Hiram Corson knew the truth.  The "Real Jewel of Alfred The Great" lies in the book above.

Imagination

To form a mental image of something not present to the senses can be a powerful tool.  This is especially true for those of us who at times what not to confront and deal with a problem.  Or, it may actually help us deal with the problem.  Childhood trains us to use our imagination.

Here stands Will and Ian, two of my grandsons.   They are trying on their imagination.  Their creative ability has certainly been directed toward shields and capes, but hey...their capes are colorful, and their flying ability is yet to be tested.  "Here we come to save the day", they seem to be saying.   A creation of the mind it is.  At least they shared this day in their world of fantasy.  Childhood is such a world of exploration...and imagination.

School Plays

It would certainly be expected that most children's elementary education includes school plays.  You know those plays that require group participation, cooperation, acting, and those stomach butterflies that generally tell us that something unusual is about to happen.  Getting up in front of people and pretending that you are some character not usually part of the normal day, can produce a lot of these butterflies.

A "bunny rabbit " all dressed up and no place to go except to this school play.  Yelp...there I stand in all my glory, floppy white ears, crossed arms, and plenty of butterflies.  There were a few other kids dressed up a bit, but not like me.  Mom always thought I looked extra cute, but you can judge for yourself.  I was suppose to hop across the stage and not slip on the recently waxed floor.  Overall, I was pretty successful, and for this picture I got to stand right behind the princess that was suppose to come to life after I hopped by her pillowed rest.  Ah...those were the days.  Lights...action...let the school plays continue to train us for life's bigger stages.

Coconut Trees

Trees were a part of my growing up years.  Many days were spent climbing them, eating cherries, apples, pears, and walnuts from them.  Sitting under the shade of them on hot summer days with a little breeze making its way through the branches and leaves.  Now there were plenty of them around my neighborhood, but a palm tree was not one of them.

The picture above shows my Mom [to the right], her sister Faye [to the left], and a first cousin they called "Sissy". [In the middle of course.]  Sissy appears somewhat larger in statue than both Faye and my Mom, but Faye and Sissy seem to share the same facial features, including the red lip stick.   Mom may be about 14, and Faye about 16, and Sissy...well not sure, but would guess she is several years older.  Mom tells me that she usually did not wear lipstick or makeup.  Together, they are pausing for this picture in time.

The picture is taken in front of a back drop that contains a palm tree.  Now I didn't see my first "real" palm tree until our family took a trip to this new place called "Disneyland".  No branches, no real leaves, a lot of funny looking bark, and only a large black fruit called a coconut that you had to use a sledge hammer to get into.  Humm...a coconut tree in Winchester, Kentucky used as a back drop to take pictures.  I imagine that not many folks growing up in Kentucky during WWII would ever see a real palm tree.  That is unless you were in the military and got to that part of the world that had many of them. 

The back drops to our life.  We stand in front of many to get that picture just right.  On this day Mom, Faye, and Sissy shared this back drop.

Friends

Friends are friends forever...or so the saying goes.  True friends from childhood, true friends from high school, and true friends from college or work can often last a lifetime.  How many "true" friends are there?  The English word is derived from the Anglo-Saxon freon (to love), which is thought to derive from the word freo (free).  It implies that one is attached to another by affection or esteem.  It means one that is not hostile.  Thus, one is "free" from worry about "hostility" in a relationship that is built on affection and esteem.  Would life not be so simple.

The Anglo-Saxons also had a word for "enemy", i.e., one that is hostile.  The words are very close to the same except for the letter "r".   That's right.  One small letter of the Saxon alphabet made all the difference between friend or enemy.  "R" you friend or foe?  Can you imagine what might happen if you got tongue tied during a first encounter.  Perhaps this is where the old pirate saying..."aryee" comes?  "Aryee" ye friend or foe?  At any rate, how you say something can often make the difference between friend or foe.

My Genealogy Tree House

Building a tree house was always a challenge.  The neighborhood gang worked days on how one might go about getting an old dog house up to a branch some 6-8 feet off the ground.  It was an old oak tree with many firm looking branches, and would be an ideal location of a tree house.  After several days of trying, neighborhood kickball seem more practical and beneficial.

Needless to say, my genealogy tree house was a little more practical to build, and to climb.  Its branches are filled with family stories, family pictures, family memories, and much discovery.

The drawing above is my imaginary "genealogy" tree house.  You have to climb up the side using the rope ladder, but if you make it, you can climb out any of the branches.  In reality my blogs are the branches to my imaginary tree house, but they can be climbed at any time by the computer.  Just type in the "title" [subject], followed by blogspot.com, and there you have it.

Started July 7, 2010, the first branch is thejonesgenealogist.blogspot.com.  Stories, stories, and more stories are there.  How I got started doing genealogy...where I got started...when I got started....etc.,etc....you get the picture.

Started July 31, 2010, the results of more than 50 years of research into the JONES surname is presented in the blog: thejonessurname.blogspot.com.  Everything you wanted to know and were afraid to ask about the JONES surname. [Believe it or not, try it out.]

Starting August 8, 2010, a number of branches were added that had to do with some "how to's" for those who might have their own interest in starting some genealogy.  Blog spots called "ge-ne-al-o-gy" were written and can be climbed at:  ge-ne-al-o-gy101.blogspot.com, ge-ne-al-o-gy201.blogspot.com, and ge-ne-al-o-gy301.blogspot.com.  [For those just beginning their own tree climbing.]

Starting September 4, 2010, my interest in DNA and genealogy got to be utilized by trying to help the genealogist understand this complex subject.  My years as a physician, and my medical training, helped me put together a series of posts on DNA.  Of course, the focus is on the JONES surname.   jonessurnamedna.blogspot.com

Things would not be complete if those interested in the JONES surname would not be interested in Welsh genealogy.  This blog spot begins at the beginning of course.  welshgenealogy.blogspot.com [December 13, 2010]

Other branches that have been added since 2010:

  thebrickwallprotocol.blogspot.com [for those facing their "brick wall"]  August 6, 2011

  cadwalladerjones.blogspot.com [my favorite grandfather and his documents] Nov 4, 2011

  tjgresearchnotebooks.blogspot.com [An index and description of my genealogy research.] July 6, 2012

Wow, there you have it...sort of.  Come climb around my tree house...genealogy for generations...the branches are firm.

The Jones Genealogist Newsletter

In 1989, after some 30 years of tree climbing, starting a family newsletter seemed like a good idea.

 Little did I realize that some 22 years later all this blogging and posting would take over.  At any rate, The Jones Genealogist (Newsletter) was the beginning of many years of letting folks know about the JONES surname.

The figure above is a copy of the 10th year of publication.  Each year was bound and made available to those who might have an interest.

 

The figure above is an example of one page of the newsletter as it was published 1999.  Starting with the IBM-XT, then the IBM-AT, the newsletter took its own life so to speak.   The Wisconsin Historical Society maintained its subscription throughout the years, and pretty much has a complete file of the newsletter.  Hard copies of the originals [and duplications] are now located at the Joseph Wheeler Jones Memorial Library, Danville, KY.  It contains much of the genealogy research results of my first 30 years of tree climbing.  Some of the old copies are still available.  It is now an Internet world.

TAXI (II)

My Dad tells me that he believes this picture to be that of his father, Joseph Wheeler Jones, and not that of his Grandfather, Edward Turner Jones.   Dad relates that Pap paw (Wheeler by some, and Jay by his sisters) was somewhat of a "card", "cut up", and liked to get in the picture.  He believes that this was one of those times when Pap paw wanted to show his view of life.  How he (Pap paw) ended up this service car is unknown. 

Can anyone tell the year of this Model-T?  It would appear to be a model made in the 1920s.  Well Pap paw, I guess the truth did come out and you got in this picture.  Let's call it TAXI II.

TAXI

Taxi service was available in North Middletown.  North Middletown was located almost half-way between my hometown of Winchester (Clark County) and Paris (Bourbon County).  It must have been named from Winchester since it would have be "South" Middletown coming from Paris.  Bourbon County was formed 1785, just three years after the end of the Revolution.  At the time, there was a general feeling of indebtedness of the new nation to the French royal house of Bourbon.

The picture shows my great grandfather, Edward Turner Jones driving the "North Middletown Service Car".  It must have been in the 1920s since he lost his leg to diabetes later in his life, and would have had a difficult time driving this vehicle.  The gentleman sitting next is unidentified, and seems uninterested in this picture taking.  I suspect that Edward Turner took advantage of every picture taking opportunity.  He seemed to like his derby hat and his straight line JONES simile is seen.  Top down, wind in the face, and hat firmly pulled down...lets go this taxi...on to the streets of North Middletown.

A New Blog...Again

Eleven of them...can you believe it.  Blog-O-Rama as some might say.  This blog was started to list the content and outline of my genealogical research from the last 50 years.  This research was organized by subject, then content, and numbered from the spider webs of my mind, beginning with notebook #1 to...well not really sure yet. [A final number is yet to come.]  At any rate, the object was to list the content (subject) which was researched, and give a chance for the reader (genealogist) to find a topic which might be of help.  Not many folks would tend to look at a tree branch like I would often view them.

The blog site contains a "search" gadget  on the right hand section.  This gadget will allow the reader to investigate the notebooks and see if there is a match with this topic/subject.   This will give the notebook and its number, hopefully allowing the genealogist to identify the reference.   The notebooks are physically located at the Joseph Wheeler Jones Memorial Library, Danville, KY.   They can be utilized by the researcher on site, or one can contact me [jonesgenealogist@aol.com] by e-mail to see if the content contains useful items.

Hopefully this blog will give access to my research for those who are seeking help or looking for a particular tree branch.  Remember that my particular family tree is JONES, and much of the research deals with this surname.  The site is: http://tjgresearchnotebooks.blogspot.com.  [tjg = The Jones Genealogist]  I did not want to write this long name again.  Come, join the search, and climb a few branches with me.

Happy Birthday Dad

Here stands my Dad.  May 9, 1948 is written on the back.  Suite, tie, hair perfectly combed, and big smile in place.  I am really glad to be here, he seems to be saying.  Life is good, and I am happy to be part of it.  The first day of my new married life this is. [Mom and Dad were married May 8, 1948.]

He is standing in front of his home on Broadway, and I guess Mom must be taking this picture.  Careful study of this picture shows Broadway to be of brick, and I do remember riding my bike on this surface trying not to get the front wheel caught between the bricks. Of course it would be a couple of years before my appearing , and many years before my bicycle would hit the bricks.  A "Gulf" gas station sign can be seen in the background, and it had a air pump where my bike and I made frequent exchanges.  But on this day in 1948, Dad was the center of attention, this newly married man of one day.  Here I am world, let's go.

Well today Dad has the center of my attention.  It is his 86th birthday.  Imagine, 86 years young, and a marriage going on 65 years.  He still smiles, and goes to Wal-Mart to walk almost every day.  He still manages to cut the grass, and has a new interest in this thing called the computer.  Well, "Happy Birthday Dad".  It has been a number of years since this photo was taken in which you look so proud.  Today it is I who am proud of knowing this man of 86 years...thank you for my gift of life.

SKY-VUE

Summer months passed fast enough for those of us who wanted to stay out of that prison called school.  One activity that help occupy this free time was "SKY-VUE, Drive In Theatre".  Located on US 60 some miles out of Winchester, you had to have a car, or a friend who had a car, to get there.  The picture shown is that taken directly across US 60.  Sitting on a fence in front of the house that Granny and Grandad were living at the time, this view was seen showing the front entrance with sign listing the movies that were being shown.  What a sight I thought, this big screen under the stars.  Would I ever get there...sighed I.   Mom, Dad, Henry, and of course me, would come and visit Granny and Grandad on many occasions, but it took Cecil B. DeMille, Chariton Heston, and Yul Brynner to bring our family to this picture show.

October 5, 1956, the movie everyone was waiting to see was released.  I am sure it took a while to get to this little drive-in, but we were there one night under the stars to see the Red Sea part.  What color, what story, what action, what fun was that night under the stars.  Buttered popcorn,  Moses and Pharaoh going head to head, and a speaker inside the car...what more could a guy ask for.  It was nothing like any Bible Story Book that I had ever seen. 

COPYRIGHT NOTICE

A number of items have come to my attention.  The following is my copyright notice which has been filed since 1989.

You may not use the contents of this site (blog and post) for commercial purposes without explicit written permission from the author and blog owner.  Commercial purposes includes blogs with ads and income generation features, and/or blogs or sites using feed content as a replacement for original content.  Full content usage is not permitted.

Jerry E. Jones, MD, MS, The Jones Genealogist, Library of Congress No. 6192-01064476.

1st Cousins

It was May, 1956, and a group of the Ewen clan were gathered for what looks like a birthday party. Standing on the from row, second from the right, is my brother Henry.  He was born in May, and it might be a picture of his birthday party.  It would have been his seventh year, and most of the folks look pretty dressed up for this event.  A single light bulb illuminates the room, and most seem to want to get this picture taking over.

"1st Cousins", I would call it.  A product of a large family.  Myrna Jean [my Mom] was in the middle of 12 children.  Nine were to reach adulthood, and would add their chromosomes to this group of party goers.  You can imagine what a family get together was like.  This front row seemed to be involved in the enjoyment of that long straw full of powered sugar that you had to open at one end, and shake onto your waiting tongue.  A lot of work for very little reward, or least for me it seemed that way.

Speaking of me, I am that glowing face high in the background with fingers in the mouth.  At five years of age, always ready to provide some extra entertainment to the festivities, I would often make faces to the camera.  I had some good ones saved for special occasions.  They were not always well received by the adults of the camera, but the other kids seemed to enjoy them.  Occasionally, I would get a whole group making faces. [Crossing eyes was my specialty!]

Anyway, here we were, 1st cousins to the end.

True Laughter

The year, 1950...the month is May...the smile is big...and the shirt says "Let's Hide".  It is a picture of my older brother as a young un', what a deal!

I came across this photograph last evening while looking through a group of family pictures.  It had never passed before my eyes, and I smiled as wide as Henry seemed to be smiling.  My older brother as a young child of one year of age.  Not many times do you get a chance to see your older brother in his life before you were born.  He certainly seems to have enjoyed his first year.

"Man that was a good one", he seems to be saying.  "Got another one to keep me laughing?"  It must have really been hard to keep those one year old kids laughing while you tried to get a good picture taken.

Well Henry, you got a good one taken here.  True laughter comes from within.

A New Blog

An interest in history has helped me to explore many facets of my own family tree climbing.  It has added depth and color to the leaves and branches.  Many of these branches have lead to Kentucky, its history, and early settlement. [Richard Henderson of Transylvania Company is a g.g....grandfather on the maternal side!]

A new blog titled: Historic Danville, KY gives me a way to express this interest by writing about the early history of Kentucky.  Moving to Danville some 12 years ago, I became interested in how it came to be named.   My years of research forms the foundation of this blog.  Come join me if you have an interest in this..."Dan(s)...ville".

The Music of Life

Life is our existence as we know it. Existence is our reality as we experience it. Experience is our conscious perception of the environment that surrounds us. Our perception of this environment is brought to us through an organic platform made up of trillions of cells that somehow have figured out a way to function in concert. A concert that provides our conscious existence with this experience. Beginning at the union of 23 chromosomes to make that first unique cell [seems to take 46 chromosomes to get things working well], our existence and experience play their first note ... ah yes, the music of life.

Adam's Rib...sort of...

Expressing one's thoughts has been a goal of mankind for generations. Taking what is in the mind, and placing it as an image on things that will remain, seems to be an activity from the earliest times. From the first "doodle" [an aimless scribble, design, or sketch] to the "Mona Lisa" [a master piece], mankind has left such markings.

The sketch to the right is a tracing from one of the earliest human images. It is an engraving on a bone, thought to be a piece of reindeer bone. Some believe it to be an image of a man. The lines are certainly purposeful. A man...or a bird... or a... what do you think? The bone was found in a limestone cave [Pin Hole Cave], Derbyshire, England. It must have been one of those long winter nights with spare ribs for dinner. After eating, what does one do to pass the time. Let's take this little piece of flint and carve into this bone while it is still soft. Legs, arms, head... an eye... maybe could use a knife in hand... a little chunky maybe. Oh well, try again next time.

Wow, I thought... Adam's rib it is. The first to draw an image left to us...sort of.

The tracing is made from a picture shown:

Piggott S., Daniel G., A Picture Book of Ancient British Art, Cambridge, University Press, 1951. plate I.

Also shown in:

Hadingham, E. Secrets of The Ice Age, A Reappraisal of Prehistoric Man, Walker and Company, NY, 1979. p.226.

Pin Hole Cave is discussed in:

Dyer, J., Prehistoric England and Wales, Penguin Books, NY, 1981. p.99.

What would you have drawn?

A Gate to Nowhere

Gates open and close. They keep things in, or they keep things out. They often set boundaries which give definition to neighborhoods, or declare limits to traffic, public or private. Gates are all around us. They are built by man to imply that if you are on one side, you might want to get to the other. [All that green grass and stuff.]

The picture to the right shows a gate. It was taken after the destruction of a tornado that removed all boundaries. It was just about all that was left standing, blown open by the wind of an F-5 monster. An "act of God", some folks would call it.

Pretty useless this gate stands now. No boundaries, no landmarks, no anything that remains. A gate to nowhere I thought...have you experienced one?

Hours of Our Days

Passing another year above ground is a good thing. [Just passed 61 years!] Most of our ancestors are below ground and that is the way it is supposed to be. Life, death... time passes... one generation to the next.

This past birthday was special with daughters and grandsons making special trips to help celebrate this passing. My youngest daughter left her words on a card :

"I am thankful for how God imagined our family into being... how he saw us singing in Wales, roughing it in the wilderness, striving to raise our families in love & wisdom. Generations after generation he knew the boarders of our land and the hours of our days. Thank you for sharing these days & these boarders with me. I am better because of it. I love you dearly, Ellen"

Oh yes, thank you Ellen. I love you dearly. How important are the hours of our days.

Marine Robin 19 - 20 : The End

I can't imagine how long it would have taken to line all these folks along the side of the ship. Seven to eight rows deeps, and running the length of the entire ship. It would certainly seem that most of the folks wanted to get their picture taken. Something about that... having your picture taken. Especially after returning home, to remember the voyage.

No names, only faces are shown. Lines and lines of faces that have seen life in a setting unknown to most of us.

Here we are. The last two pictures of a long series of photographs that records the faces of these folks in 1946.


The end for some...perhaps the beginning for others.

Marine Robin 16 - 18 : Standing on The Lifeboat

Lots of folks, and lots of pictures. Not sure how you would be able to pick yourself out of the crowd. Seems like you would have to remember some kind of land mark or structure, and place yourself at the front, middle, or end of the ship.






How about a lifeboat? Can you imagine thinking, I will know where I am in this picture because I am standing on a lifeboat.
At least four guys seem to be standing on the lifeboat in picture 17. I wonder how they got up there? At least they would know where to look among all these pictures.

Wow, standing on a lifeboat. Perhaps, the whole ship was the lifeboat.

Marine Robin 13 - 15 ; On Down the Line

Rows and rows of folks... it keeps going. Most have the standard military hat showing. A few have sun glasses.

Some are squatting , some are hanging on to any thing that will support them. What a crew it is.









All line up in rows...on down the line.

Marine Robin 10 - 12 : All Lined Up

Following orders must have been part of the game plan. Just imagine what it would have taken to get all the hundreds and hundreds of folks all lined up in a row. In some places it appears to be six to seven rows deep. "Stem to Stern" or what ever the right term is suppose to be.



Cooperation would have been paramount! Just imagine if a few of the folks said, "Man...not me... I'm not going to the side and stand there!"



What would our world be like today if these folks had not worked together to bring to close the issues of the day... all together.... all on this ship... all lined up.

Marine Robin 7 - 9 : Women among 'um

Moving on down the ship at a closer range, one can see the folks lined up along the railings. Lots and lots of them are seen. Anyone know how many?

The "bridge" [control center] is packed top to bottom and you would wonder how anyone had control of the ship. It was certainly exciting times for all those aboard.

The number of life boats seem to be few and far between.

I guess after all these folks have been through, life boats were not top priority.



Frame 9 shows at least 12 women present on this day. Can you imagine what this must have been like for these women among all these men?

Does anyone know the story associated with these women among all these men? Please post.

Who would have thought, these women "among 'um".

Marine Robin 4 - 6 : A Boat Load

It would certainly be difficult to estimate the number of individuals traveling on the Marine Robin. The whole number seems to be lined up along the railings and ship sides. I guess they all wanted to see the skyline of New York City on that docking day.

Starting at the front (bow), the men [and some women yet to be seen!] must have been told to come on deck for the series of pictures.

Numbers 4 - 6 are shown, and I guess they are taken at various distances from the dock.

Anyone have additional information and stories regarding this ship please post in the comment section. Hundreds and hundreds of men and some women, certainly a boat load.



A boat load indeed!


Pictures 4 - 6 out of 20 total, taken 1946.

Marine Robin 1 - 3 : Finally Home

A reader of this blog has asked for help with information regarding the "Marine Robin". He tells me that his grandfather returned on this ship in 1945 from Germany. This reader has wanted to build a ship model in honor of his grandfather. He asked for any information regarding the plans, color, dates, etc...etc. on the Marine Robin. My Dad also returned from Germany on this ship, and I am sure that there are other "relatives" of this adventure that would also share an interest.

I have copies [1-20] of the pictures taken of this ship in 1946. As the troop ships would arrive in harbor, a photographer would take a series of pictures of the docking with hopes of each returnee buying the copies. My Dad was one. They are numbered 1 - 20 and I will try and copy the pictures in sequence as they are numbered.

Anyone with information regarding this ship please post or give the information you have regarding your ancestor. My reader tells me that he has not found a blueprint of the ship or any record of this ship. Does anyone know if such a blueprint exists? My Dad states that it was called a "Liberty" ship.


My Dad tells me that he remembers seeing a "lot of rust everywhere", and does not recall a specific color pattern. His "bunk" was in the back [stern] of the ship, and he remembers hearing the sound of the propellers going at all times. The beds were metal bunk beds stacked floor to ceiling. He volunteered for K.P. [kitchen police] so that he could eat at all time in order to keep the "sea sickness" under control. I asked what they did for the bath room, but he does not remember. I can't imagine all these folks not going to the "head"! He does remember seeing folks "throw-up" in their beef stew which was served frequently.

The next several post will give the pictures in order of the docking that day in 1946. Dad says, that the most impressive thing was seeing the Statue of Liberty and feeling that he was finally home.

The Naming of Danville, KY

Beyond the Allegheny Mountains, the colony of Virginia had laid formal claim to the "dark and bloody ground" with the establishment of Fincastle County, VA in 1772. Under the British government, this claim followed the existing land laws. All this was to change at the start of the Revolutionary War. The Virginia legislature change the name to Kentucky Co., VA. A bill was signed by Patrick Henry [1st governor of VA] on December 7, 1776, to become law effective December 31, 1776. A new beginning it was.

As the war for independence was moving towards its final days, the Virginia assembly was attempting to exert its "controlling power" for the better management of the civil and military affairs of the "District of Kentucky". [May 6, 1782] A supreme court of "...judicature of original jurisdiction..." was organized for the new defined district with a man name Walker Daniel appointed as the first Attorney General. This Walker Daniel presented his commission to this newly organized court on March 4, 1783. It was here that he and John May were "...to make choice of proper and safe place for holding their terms, somewhere in the neighborhood of John Crow's Station...".

On June 18, 1784, Walker Daniel obtained an "Indenture"[deed] from John Crow for 76 acres of land. It is here that the DANVILLE is first used in the pages of history, as the "town lands of Danville". Unfortunately , on August 12, 1784, Walker Daniel was killed. His business partner Issac Hite, took responsibility for building the first courthouse, and jail for this new district court.

Several years later, a petition sent to the General Assembly of Virginia, date November 19, 1787 reads:

"Petition of inhabitants of Danville and others, proprietors of the lots therein, that Walker Daniel, late deceased, in his lifetime purchased of John Crow 76 acres for the purpose of erecting a town. Walker proceeded to lay off a part of the land into lots and streets and disposed of some of the lots. Since his death Robert Daniel the elder brother and heir at law of Walker Daniel laid the remainder of the land off into lots and streets and disposed of them."

In response to this petition, the General Assembly on December 4, 1787, approved the town of Danville.

"... Be it therefore enacted, That the lots and streets so as aforesaid laid off, shall be, and they are hereby established a town, by the name of Danville...".

Wow, there you have it, the naming of the town of Danville, Kentucky.

The cover of "KEN - TAH - THE "..., is shown above. It is from this text that the information for this post is taken. Detailed references are given in the text. This text was written after several years of research into the naming of Danville, KY.

Copies are available at cost, soft bound, at $28 + tax and S.H. To order a copy call  859-583-2053.

Yet To Be

May 9, 1948 is written on the back of this picture. Let's see. That would be around three years after World War II, and just about the start of the "Cold War". War does not seem to be a big issue on either face, but hey, this was Winchester, KY. Far removed from the politics of the world at this time it was.

It is a picture of my grandfather (Joseph Wheeler Jones, we called Pap paw) and his baby girl (Linda Carol). Fathers and daughters have a special relationship. [Having three daughters of my own I have a little experience with this!] The look on Linda Carol's face is precious. "My daddy", she seems to be saying... standing here with my dad, how special.

This was also three years before I was even born. Hard to imagine that I was not even in existence when this picture was taken. Yet to be. Funny how that sounds now looking back in time. That Y-chromosome had been passed down to my Dad, but it was yet to be passed on to me. I can not imagine all the things that happened during this period before I was. Mom, Dad..." first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby carriage..." as we use to sing. That's what our ancestors are...all the things that happened before we were. Us...mostly the sum of them. How about that! We all at one time were yet to be.

After 20,235 Views: The Top 10

My blog experience began with The Jones Genealogist, July 7, 2010. Now after some 20,000 views I thought it would be of interest to list the top ten post viewed by those reading this blog. Thanks to all, and I hope more to come. The title of the post is given, followed by its date. On the blog page is listed "blog archives", and this title can be clicked to bring up a listing of the posts by dates. Here goes:

1) To Genealogist Everywhere: We are The Chosen - Nov. 12, 2010.
2) 50 Years of Genealogy - July 7, 2010.
3) Ping-Pong Genealogy - Dec. 17, 2010.
4) True Tree Climbing - July 8, 2010.
5) Jones Genealogy - June 15, 2011.
6) When Genealogy Becomes Geography - Dec. 10, 2010.
7) World War II Victory Medal - Nov. 22, 2011.
8) Adolescence - Dec. 2, 2011.
9) Gunter's Chain - Feb. 3, 2011.
10) Looking Back: Book About Walker Daniel and Early Danville - Aug. 24, 2011.

Wow! Hard to imagine 20,235 views.

Flatrock Township 1834

Recorded 15 October 1835, in Deed Record 87, page 126, Indianapolis, IN is an "Act of Congress", United States, to Nicholas Jones, Sr. Just short of one year before, on 12 November 1834, 160 acres was deeded to this Nicholas Jones located at the "Southwest Quarter of Section 36, Township 10 North of Range 6 East". [Tract Book, page 67] This area became known as "Flatrock Township, Bartholomew Co., IN" In his Revolutionary War Service Record (S16169) it is recorded that on the 18th of May 1835, Nicholas Jones personally appeared to declare that he was the same person who formerly belonged to the company commanded by Capt. James Johnson, of the First Regiment of VA militia. He had been placed on the pension roll of the state of Kentucky from where "...he has lately removed..." because "His children and grand children removed from said state of KY to Indiana, and on account of his age and infirmities he was inclined to follow them."

The above picture is that of his headstone. It is located 1/2 to 3/4 mile east of Northonburg, IN on the south side of the road. In 1972, this cemetery was recorded by Mary Frances Urbahns, who describes the headstones, and their identity. Known as the JONES cemetery [also called YELEY cemetery] she describes a field stone, carved on in very fine writing JONES. She reports that an N was present before the JONES, this headstone was believed to be the marker of the Revolutionary War Soldier, NICHOLAS JONES. When my Dad took this photograph some twenty years later, all writing was gone.

The drawing to the right is my attempt to outline the township, section 36. The 160 acres were located in the southwest corner. Ten acres was set aside for this cemetery. It is recorded that it was to be "...a certain lot or parcel of ground for the use of the public as a burying ground 150 feet deep and 50 feet wide..." and "...known by the name of Jones Grave Yard...". It is recorded by Ms. Urbahns that the "...very fine writing..." indicated that Nicholas was "...born ? Nov. 1760 died Oct. 18, 1842". My own research found Nicholas Jones, b. 14, Nov. 1762, and died Oct. 18, 1845.

Hello, grandfather Nicholas Jones. Thanks for your life. Your great, great, great, great, grandson.

Circle The Wagons

Wagon Train and Rawhide were sitcoms back in the days when only black & white TV existed. It is hard to imagine that there was such a day, but believe me I was there! "Head'um up...move'um out...Rawhide..." was the song I sang many a night while watching those cowpokes whip those cattle into shape. I guess you could really call it the dark ages.

Now Wagon Train was a little different. You had families moving westward on a long, long trip. It always seemed they never really got there, but they sure tired hard to make their way along those bumpy trails. Tough times were around every bend, and you never quite knew when those Indians would attack. "Circle the wagons...!" was a cry to let everyone know that pulling together would help all get through those arrows and bullets. Not everyone would make it of course, but on the whole most of the wagons kept moving. Helping one another along the way was the message.

The picture above shows my grandchildren with their aunt Lesley. Sam (the son of my oldest daughter Lisa), followed by Will(the middle), and little Ian (the youngest, and both sons of my youngest daughter, Ellen). They appear to have circled their wagons, and were ready to face any challenge awaiting them this day. No one ahead, no one behind... just imagine.

Families are like this I thought. Tough times around every bend in the road. Pull together and we will make it along our way ... circle the wagons.

"Grandmother, Grandmother"!

Looking through a stack of family pictures this morning I was impressed by the picture shown to the right. Gertrude Patterson Monroe Jones, born 1904, I remembered. What flashed through the canyons of my mind was a memory of the black and white TV version of "Heidi" where Shirley Temple [Heidi], lost in the forest, was yelling "Grandfather, Grandfather!". When lost in many of my childhood forests, it must have been "Grandmother, Grandmother", we called her "Mam Maw".

Her house on Jackson street was certainly a forest to a very young mind. The back yard extended to a deep drainage ditch where much of the rain water flowed. Here a tall peach tree stood with those tasty peaches calling from above the ground. [Those that had already fallen had flies, worms, or rot surrounding them which was not first on my menu of the day.] Throwing sticks would often be successful at knocking down a choice morsel, but this activity was often left unrewarded.

Now climbing this tree was a real challenge. It was at least 6-8 feet before you could even see the first branch! How was one to do this? Stacking up rocks...no, no, too heavy; jumping from the fence post standing nearby...no, no, too flimsy and too far...; getting help from big brother...no, no, I can do this...; on, and on, it would go! Many times I would punt and move to the cherry tree much nearer the house. It had a V-shaped trunk just 2-3 feet off the ground which provided a much easier access. However, the cherries had those large central pits which made for hazardous chewing at times, and you always had to spit a lot.

The day finally came when I was determined to climb this peach tree. Moving a wheelbarrow near and under the lowest branch..., balancing perfectly in the center..., jumping carefully... I could just touch the bottom of the lowest branch. I can do this. Position, jump, grab, climb, and one of those tasty peaches would be mine!

At least the first three items were completed successfully. However, instead of the "climb", I experienced "the fall". Landing flat on my back, I had the wind knocked out of me. I could not breathe! Looking up through the leaves dancing in the summer's wind, I thought this is what it must be to die. Summer, sun light sprinkling its rays through the leaves... and that peach smiling down at me from above..."Grandmother, Grandmother!"

"Ship Ahoy!" Coming Home

It was called the "Marine Robin" out of Philadelphia. Hundreds of men [and a few women] were on board returning from Germany...coming home, 1946. It must have been an overcast day, but this robin was certainly chirping. All smiles, at least in the heart, I would guess.

Folks were lined up on all sides! Standing, looking into the camera, as a series of pictures were taken. At least a total of twenty since these photos are from my Dad's collection, and he was there. He tells me he once knew where he was among this army of men and women.

A tug boat named "BENJBBRADY" is shown coming along side. I suspect it was pronounced "Benjamen B Brady". I wonder how many times it was called on to do its job.

The final picture shows just a fraction of the men and women who were coming home. Some clearly smiling, some are not. Some are in complete uniform, tie and hat, some are not. Some standing, some squatting, some leaning, some holding on to anything close by...what would be in their minds? What was seen and done would forever change these lives. How many times yet to come? "Ship Ahoy" I say, welcome home.

First Snow Fall of 2012

Several days ago, my wife Nancy called me to our large front door to view the first snow fall of these winter months. A sprinkling here...a sprinkling there...not the white Christmas that is sung about I thought, but a white touch to the new year. How special it has always seemed to see the first snow flakes of winter. [The picture to the right shows our house at its first dusting.]

Having grown up in Kentucky, you were always uncertain as to when this event would happen. It might even happen before Christmas, but often it would wait until January. However, twenty five years of experiencing snow falls in Kentucky did little to prepare me for my first Iowa snow fall. Here it seemed that winter snow started around Thanksgiving, and the ground stayed covered with snow until Easter! Piles and piles of it, blown by the snow plow to stacks that at times seemed 10 feet tall. [Rough estimate from this UK Big Blue disciple!]. Natives frequently started our conversation with..."You're not from here, are you?" [Perhaps my chattering teeth gave me away.] "I am from Kentucky", I would say. "Oh, you're from the South then", often came the reply. Five Iowa winters taught me a lot about hard working folks who knew how to turn winter into play time. [My three daughters were all born in the corn fields of Iowa!]

Then moving to Alabama some years later [Roll Tide!] I looked forward to Alabama winters. No snow, no plows, no icy roads were in my expectations. Not! [As was frequently said!]. My first Alabama winter was spent at 6 degrees below zero (Fahrenheit)! "...You're not from here, are you..?", was often asked. "I'm from Kentucky" was my reply. "Oh, you're from the North", came the response. What!? North!? I thought I was from the South! Who would have guessed! I could be from both the North and the South!

Wow, I thought...maybe that is what it means to be from Kentucky. Our State Motto is: "United We Stand, Divided We Fall". Perhaps we need to spread it around a little bit. Funny what the first snow flakes of winter will bring to mind.