Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts

Monday, September 3, 2018

Family and Friends

To those who might enjoy a follow-up photograph to the one posted 2 November, 2015 titled "Just Another Day".  The photo in this post is shown below.  [This post has received 3265 visits.]


Evelyn Jean is seated just to my right side in the picture.  Of course yours truly is seated in front with both fingers in my mouth sharing this moment in time. 

Now some years back the following photo was taken.  Just Evelyn Jean and I sharing this moment in time.


We are in the same position as shown in the first picture, and certainly haven't changed a bit.
[NOT!]  We had not seen one another for at least three decades, and enjoyed catching one another up on all the happenings important to us.  Just another day in our lives, but a little to old for tree climbing, rock throwing, snow ball fighting and the like...on this day in time, we were just family and friends.

Tuesday, May 8, 2018

A 70 Year Anniversary

On this date, May 8, 1948, the folks shown below were married. 



A newspaper article described the home event, and it can be read at the post of 22 August, 2010 titled: "Red Rosebuds".

Well, today is 70 years from this event.  Can you believe two folks making it together along the roads of life for this many years.  Not many I guess.  A Happy Anniversary  to you guys from the family who loves you... two sons and their wives...seven grandchildren and their husbands and wives...and seven great grandchildren with the marriages yet to come.  Your example and love still leads this family tree.

Saturday, January 20, 2018

Quilted

Not so long ago, quilts were part of the family.  They were often handed down from mother to daughter to keep the memories that they held alive.  During my growing up days in the 1950's, this quilting stuff was generally left up to the maternal side.  [Do not remember any males involved in this family activity.]  The females of the family would come together to quilt, showing the younger the secrets of the stitch, organizing the pieces, layers, materials, etc., etc., all joining together to make a new bed cover for the one who needs it.  For my Ewen side of the family it was often needed since 12 members of bothers and sisters had many to cover on those cold evenings before furnaces and central air.  Such is the quilt shown:

It usually covered a good size group.  The pattern became a distinct work of art, in many cases taking it own name.  A closer picture is shown.

Just imagine the number of threads woven.   Each little piece of cloth being shaped and placed in the pattern selected by the group.  A final picture is shown.

Overlapping circles joined together by a common bond.  A family quilted together, indeed it is.

Thursday, March 23, 2017

Almost 40

Looking back in time is usually the major part of a genealogist's activity.   Family ancestors uncovered, and their story recorded is often the goal.  Today however... in the present... finding this picture of my oldest as a child, brought to mind the realization that she is about to turn 40. 


Here she stands.  Hair blown, investigating everything around her, it was difficult at times even to get her to stand still long enough for a picture.  This must have been one of those days.  A birdhouse with Cardinal was in front leading the way. [Kentucky State bird it is.]  That look of ..."what's next"...graces the face.  Wow...almost 40 years ago.   The future is still being explored, and the present is still being lived.  Hum...more family stories to be written.

Monday, November 2, 2015

Just Another Day

Life at Granny Ewen's house was always fun.  At any one time, you would have a number of first cousins ready to join in the day's activities.  Such is the picture shown.

Let's see now...on this day there was Stella Ewen to my left who was a couple of years older.  Then my older bother [Henry] is almost directly behind and above my glowing face.  Next is Evelyn Jean who was about two years older, and was the only "girl" who could keep up with me on most of these days. She would wear jeans instead of the usual dress expected.  And finally David Ray, who was just one year older.  [We became best of friends.]  He only had one finger in his mouth, but I had both fingers in mine!

The black and white TV set is above us all.  They were just coming out, and I am not sure if this picture was taken to show this phenomena and we just happened to be in the picture.  The youngest among this group of first cousins I am. [Probably why I had both fingers in facial derangement mode.]

At any rate, here we are.  Our shirts checkered and colorful, the girls in white blouses and dresses...oops except Evelyn, and maybe we were just getting ready to watch this amazing square box called "TV".  At Granny Ewen's, it was just another day.

Tuesday, July 8, 2014

88 Birthdays

My Dad is 88 years old today.  As a child growing up in the 1950's, I thought reaching the age of 60 years was getting "really old".  Now reaching the age of 88 is not that usual, and not that "really old" since I have passed the age of 60!   How times change.  The following is a picture of Dad some 88 years ago.


Facing the world in is walker.  Let's get going into these 88 years he seems to be saying.  Happy Birthday Dad this July 8, 88 Birthdays later.  Let's keep going.

Friday, April 18, 2014

An Appalachian Child

On this day, some 84 years ago, my Mom was born.  This was during that time in American history known as "The Great Depression", and even today she has a hard time throwing anything away.  A childhood picture is shown below:


This item was recently found among a box of family pictures which had been stored away.  Another one of those "thousand words" it is.  Those eyes tell much.  Is it hope?  Is it despair?  Is it a longing to see the future, or a resolve to accept the present?  Growing up in the hills of Eastern Kentucky could produce a lot of things. [Including Blue Racers.]

Mom does not remember having this picture taken.   It must have been during her years at Slade, KY.  She was the middle child of 12 young'uns, and only four remain alive at this birthday.  Out of the depression years, into the hills of Appalachia, and "click" a photo was taken.  What she must have faced growing up an Appalachian child.   Happy Birthday Mom...you have spoken those thousand words throughout your life.  I have learned from them along the way and hold your love in my heart.

Saturday, March 15, 2014

U.S. Army Air Forces

Say what?  Army...Air Forces...the U.S. Army Air Forces...I thought the Army was on the ground, and the Air Forces were in the sky.  Well, lets get some things worked out.

In 1908, the U.S. Army purchased their first aircraft.   The 1st Aero Squadron of the Aviation Section, U.S. Army Signal Corps it was called.  It was the first American unit to gain air combat experience in the Mexican Expedition forces of March 14, 1916 - February 7, 1917.

In World War I it became the U.S. Army Air Service, and flew in 8 campaigns on the Western Front.

By World War II it was called the U.S. Army Air Forces, and flew in three theaters of war: 1) The American Theater, 2) the Asiatic-Pacific Theater, and 3) the European-African-Middle Eastern Theater.


This is the patch that came from my Dad's uniform during the U.S. Army Air Forces era.  The European-African-Middle Eastern theater it was.


The Ninth Air Force it was.  The above shows a pin from the era, and the symbol of the Ninth.  A five point star carried by wings is on the patch.  A nine in a gold circle carried by wings is on the pin.

I believe it was in 1947 that the U.S. Air Force became to its own.   Finally off the ground and into the air.

[The information given above is taken from: United States Air Force, Combat Medals, Streamers, and Campaigns, by A. Timothy Warnock.  For sale by the Superintendent of Documents, U.S. Goverment Printing Office, Washington, D.C., published 1990. ]

Friday, January 10, 2014

Sam's Dragon

Thoughts and ideas come and go.  Something in the mind produces these activities which often help organize a belief or opinion.  Creativity is frequently a result, and human expression comes into existence.  The power to imagine...what a deal!

When the thought of "Grandpa" comes to mind what ideas enter the arena.  For each of us these may be a variety of memories and emotions.  Some may be good, and some may be bad.  For my eight year old grandson the follow is one expression.


"Dear Grandpa" it begins.  "I hope you enjoy this dragon." it goes on to say.  " Love, Sam." is the ending.  A wonderful dragon it is Sam!  I love it.  Grandpa...:-)).

Thursday, April 18, 2013

Happy Birthday Mom

On the 18th of April, 1930, my Mom was born.  Her family had moved from Kentucky to Indiana trying to find work at the period of our history called "The Great Depression".  Being in the middle of 12 children born to this Ewen family, she would have to make her own way among the four brothers and four sisters. [two sisters had died earlier]

Myrna Jean Ewen was the name given.  Myrna being an unusual family name, most in the family just called her "Jeanie".  Here is her sixteenth year picture just after the family had moved from Slate, KY to my birthplace called Winchester, KY.

School days 1946 - 47 it reads.  She was about to meet my Dad around this time and start that relationship that was to make our family.

Some two years later, she appears as Myrna Jean Jones in this photograph below, which was taken the second day of her married life.

May 9th, 1948 it would be.  That "just married" look is evident.

Happy Birthday Mom!  Thanks for your life, and giving our family such love.
Your heart pumps in my chest, and your gift of love will echo through our family for generations.

Saturday, June 2, 2012

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.

Monday, March 26, 2012

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.

Sunday, January 29, 2012

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.

Sunday, July 17, 2011

"Our Home is Gone"

Devastation has been part of many lives this past year. Forces of nature have taken much toll all around the world. The actions of wind (tornadoes), earth (earth quakes), water (tsunami and floods) , and fire (wild fires) continue to remind us that no matter how much we think we are in control of our lives, some things are beyond our control.

The first picture to the right shows our home in Tuscaloosa, Alabama. We lived, fought, and loved as a family in these four walls for just about 10 years. The front of the house is shown at springtime, when the azaleas were in full bloom. A welcome sight coming home in the evening.




2001 1st Avenue, it was called. It was built by Edward Montgomery who owned a wood working business. He put a lot of his skill as a wood worker into the details. He even had a bomb shelter built during the "cold war" thinking this would provide some form of protection from that thing called the "A-bomb". We were the second owners to live in the home. Little did he know that a different type of bomb would hit. This bomb could be called a "T-bomb".

Several families have lived in the house since we sold it, when we moved back home to Kentucky. My youngest daughter still lives with her family in Tuscaloosa, and experienced the "T-bomb" first hand. The day after the tornado, she called and said, "Our home is gone".





The last picture shows what she meant. Not much of the house still stood, and large, black letters now identified the property. Complete devastation, what more can one say. The house is gone, but the memories will remain.



Forces beyond our control. Good bye 2001 1st Avenue. Anyway, home is where the heart is.

Monday, June 20, 2011

Posing For a Memory

Faintly written on the back of this picture is: "this is the 5 Dolls at Lexington, Ky". Five numbers are given with the names (left to right) 1 = J.C. Ewen, 2 = J.B. Bam..ehan ?, 3 = G... Ewen, 4 = T.S. Jackson, and 5 = J.B. Goldon? They are standing proudly, each touching down the line from J.B. Goldon to J.C. (called Jake), posing for a memory.

I would take it that J.C. Ewen (b. 1887) was the anchor of the crew since they all seem to be leaning on him. He was an older brother of my grandfather, Sidney Brent Ewen (b.1899), who would have been a young child when this picture was taken. The middle person was Green Ewen, a younger brother to J.C. and another older brother to my grandfather Ewen. Both Ewen boys had mustaches just like their father George Washington Ewen. [See post and picture "The Sod Rest Lightly", August 17, 2010.] All wore hats except Mr. Goldon who seems to be wearing an apron, and certainly did not want to get his carefully combed hair disrupted. [Perhaps a bartender who served the boys on their big trip to Lexington, KY.] The second in, J.B. [could not make out the spelling] shows his pipe, a symbol of manhood. [See post "Brothers", March 16, 2011, for my great grandfather Jones, E.T.] What a crew. It must have been mother Susan [who else would have called them "Dolls"?] who scribbled lightly on the back of the picture hoping to keep this event and memory alive. The boy's big trip to Lexington from the hills of Eastern Kentucky. Friends, posing for a memory in time.

Saturday, January 8, 2011

Casting Shadows


Dad and his folks standing together. How many times does it happen? Standing with your folks (or family) for a picture. The picture to the right shows Mam maw and Pap paw holding Dad. Well it looks as though Pap paw is really holding Dad and Mam maw is holding Pap paw's arm. It must have been early morning (or late afternoon) since the shadow is cast at a fairly sharp angle. Mam maw has her watch on her left wrist, and Pap paw has his pocket watch chain on his belt. Keeping time must have been a part of their lives. I guess this is around 1927 - 1928. Dad, maybe a little more than a year old. Pap paw has his hat titled slightly to the left and glasses firmly in place. This picture must also have been taken before Pap paw's dynamite explosion and loss of his right eye. Ironically, there is a telephone pole showing in the back right of the picture.

Dad almost looks like he is about to smile. Pap paw has his horizontal mouth position in place, and Mam maw seems to be saying..."hurry up and get this over with, my arm is killing me!" Dad cast no shadow. Only the shadow of the parents reach the ground. Parents cast shadows in our lives, sometimes only for seconds...sometimes for the rest of our lives.

Saturday, November 6, 2010

Generations

My Y-chromosome in Kentucky comes down to me in the follow way:

Me = The 50's Generation = The Vietnam War Generation

Dad (Henry Edward Jones) = The WW II Generation

Pap paw (Joseph Wheeler Jones) = The WW I Generation

E.T. (Edward Turner Jones) = The Re-construction Generation

W.C. (William Carter Jones) = The Civil War Generation

Thomas Jones = The War of 1812 Generation

Nicholas Jones = The Revolutionary War Generation.

How sad that almost each generation can be grouped by war! What generation are you?

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Family Treasure


The photo to the right shows a family treasure. It was found among my Granny Ewen's papers. It is a marriage certificate dated 21 March 1918. It is titled: "Certificate of Person Performing Marriage Ceremony". It was to be delivered to "Parties Married". It reads:

"I James W Harding a Minister of the Gospel of the Church of Christ do certify that on the 21st day of March 1918, at Winchester Kentucky, under authority of a license issued by H C Skinner Clerk of County Court of Winchester Clark County, State of Kentucky, dated 21st day of March 1918, I united Sidney B Ewen and Stella Morton as Husband and Wife, in the presence of Mabel Harding and Thomas Townsend.

Given under my hand, this 21st day of March, 1918.

James W Harding"

What a family treasure.

Friday, August 6, 2010

A Glass Eye

Perplexed was I. What was a glass eye doing in Pap paw's night stand? I would have to put on my Sherlock Holmes hat and investigate this further.

My first step was to examine Pap paw's face in a new light. I had always assumed that the closed eye lids on the right side were due to his stroke. It was not hard to get a closer examination since no sight was possible on his right side. The eye socket was slightly deformed and the lids retracted somewhat. There were small scars on the right jaw area. The right orbit was deformed and it became evident that something more had happened to Pap paw's face besides a stroke.

My second step was to broach the topic with Mam maw over our coffee and toast. What happened to Pap paw's face, I asked? Dynamite blew up in his face a long time ago, came the reply. Dynamite! What was Pap paw doing playing with dynamite? What?!!, I asked? At this point it became evident that Mam maw did not want to talk about it. I had learned to leave well enough alone when she appeared to lock her memories up like Fort Knox locked up its gold.

My third step was to ask dad. How did dynamite and Pap paw come together. Dad said that Pap paw had an accident while working for the phone company. Some dynamite had gone off in his face. Dad could only remember that this happened before he had started first grade, and did not know much about the accident. Let's see,...hum... before first grade...1926 plus 6 would place the accident before 1932. I wondered if the court house would have a record?

Exploring the last room to the left, there were numerous gray files with dates posted on the outside. Where do you start? 1930 I thought. Opening the file drawer labeled 1930, I faced a hundred or more folded papers with a name and date on each. They were not in order or arranged in any useful way. Man, this was not going to work!

Over the years I would remember Pap paw's glass eye, and wonder how one might go about investigating this further. It was not until both Pap paw and Mam maw died that I found a newspaper article which had been tucked among other papers, clip from a unknown source without a date. It was titled:


" $20,000 SOUGHT FROM BELL FIRM "

" J.W. Jones Suit In Clark Circuit Court For Allege Permanent Injuries "

The body of the article as written:

"A suit asking $20,000 damages was filed in Clark County Circuit Court, by J.W. Jones against the Southern Bell Telephone and Telegraph Company, charging negligence on the part of the company for injuries which he sustained while in their employment.
In his petition, the plaintiff stated that the defendant negligently blasted holes in the ground during the drilling process in such a manner that all of the dynamite placed in the ground did not explode, and that when he, without knowledge that it did not explode, undertook to drill the holes that had been shot, the unexploded dynamite was set off causing him permanent injury to one of his eyes. The plaintiff further alleged that due to the injuries and loss of time from work, he was damaged to the extent of $20,000 which sum he asks and all proper costs."

For the first time in my life, I understood Pap paw's glass eye. He would have worn it after he recovered from the dynamite explosion. He seems to have recovered well enough to obtain an "Operator's License" dated July 26, 1954. The "Color of Eyes" was listed "Blue", "Color of Hair" was listed "Lt.", "Height" was listed 5 ft. 8 in., and "Weight" was listed as 160. His signature was written clearly and beautifully "J.W. Jones". For the first time I saw Pap paw in new light. What a man! Courage, grit, determination, hard work...John Wayne would have nothing over Pap paw. I saw Pap pap anew through his glass eye, Joseph Wheeler Jones, 1898 - 1972.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

A little ring

Turning onto Broadway or Washington eastward, the first street past the railroad tracks was Vine Street. Six more streets followed in a fairly symmetrical order forming a series of equal sized blocks. Let's see, there was Smith Avenue, Jackson Street, Park Avenue, Franklin Street, Ashland Avenue, and Johnson Street. On past Johnson Street, Broadway and Washington ran together forming the Irvine Road. It was generally believed that Washington Street became Irvine Road, but I knew that it was really the junction of Broadway and Washington forming a Y type intersection. Washington Street followed a higher ridge out of town as compared to Broadway because starting at Jackson Street, you had to climb a long stretch of Broadway to get to Ashland Avenue. Washington Street also had yellow lines painted down the middle which made it look much more official, whereas Broadway narrowed to a little country road before it sliced into Washington.

This was my neighborhood. Looking down from the air (by satellite now) it must have seemed like a ladder leaning against the earth with each rung being one of the streets. Each block was usually cut in half by a fence row which separated the blocks right down the middle. This produced two sides, each house facing the street which named it, ours being 25 Vine Street. I often thought that our street must have been named after the large number of grape vines that grew along the fences. There was also honey suckle, mulberry, wild strawberry, milk weed, black berry, red roses producing thorn bushes, and lots and lots of poison ivy! Mam maw and pap paw lived on Jackson Street, two blocks further up Broadway. It was just a hop, skip, and a jump to the cinnamon toast and coffee. It was just a chain I often thought. A chain that ran through pap paw and mam maw, to dad and mom, to me.

A little ring
Encompasses our lives
And many generations
Link the rings of theirs,
Thus forming a chain
That is without end.

Goethe