Didn't Get Away

May - 1909, South Cramden, Wisconsin, is written on the back of this picture.

The ones that did not get away is certainly shown.  Three fellas are standing with their catch of the day.  No names are recorded, but they appear somewhat fatigued after hanging all these fish.

Granny Ewen (my grandmother) told of a time when her family went to Wisconsin to live. [She was a Morton then.]  It must have been a real change from the mountain life in Kentucky.  I guess this photograph was taken during this family adventure.  Lots of fish there are to be cleaned, eaten, and stashed away for those long winter nights.  She told me that they could only take one winter, and back to Kentucky they came, but not before all these fish that didn't get away.

Ms Blue Racer Revisited

For a split second, time can be caught in a picture.  The memory can then be relived in the imagination of the one who finds this picture.   Such is the one shown below.

Ms Blue Racer and siblings. The story has been told in previous posts: 1) "The Blue Racer", Tuesday, July 13, 2010, and 2) "Ms Blue Racer and Family", Tuesday, September 28, 2010.


Here she stands.  A little older, and probably much wiser, in the treatment of snakes and such creatures.  She is shown with her younger siblings and a couple of neighbor children.   They are in front of the rail road track that ran next to their house at Slade, Kentucky.  Rail road tracts were common during this time, and folks would ride the train to come to Natural Bridge which was just up the road.
There is a rest stop now just off the Mountain Parkway that occupies this location in Powell County, KY.   But here, in this picture, my imagination joins them this summer day.  A train will soon pass, and time will move on down the rail.   Hello Ms Blue Racer and friends...revisited. 

Those Thousand Words

The Henderson side of the family comes through my great grandmother Ellen Dorcas Henderson.  Family records show that  "Richard Henderson had a son named Samuel Henderson who had a son named William Henderson who had a son named: Abraham B. Henderson (nickname Sonny)...".  He was born October 22, 1843 and died April 12, 1908.   He married Armilda Berryman (nicknamed Millie) who was born January 12, 1844 and died November 14, 1914.

The picture above is Sonny and Millie.  Their faces appear stern... foreheads wrinkled... and a determined look that seems to say life is rough, but we are determined to press onward.  Sonny's beard is full, hair kept, and a penetrating look that passes through the picture that seems to say...I've seen a lot...done a lot...and know a lot about life's difficulties.  Millie shares the same facial expression, but her eyes are a little softer.  Her hair is parted carefully down the middle, and must have been pulled tightly into a bun at the back of the head. What stories they could tell.  Their faces already speak those thousand words.

Circa. 1920

"Gertrude Monroe Circa ; 1920" is written on the back of this family photo.  We knew her as "Mam maw".

She was born August 11, 1904, and she would be around 16 years of age when this picture was taken.  I have never thought of Mam maw as ever being a teenager until this picture crossed my path this morning.  Flipping through a stack of family pictures, this one caught my attention.  Mam maw as a teenager!  What a deal.  She certainly looks like she is ready to go to where ever life was to lead.  Maybe it was one of those first dates with Pap paw.  Hair fixed, purse in hand, and a hat of some sort that helped block the sun from the eyes.  I am ready to go...she seems to be saying.   There is a lot of life yet to live.   She certainly did.

She died March 17, 1989 at the age of 84 years.  She introduced me to cinnamon toast, coffee, and a great number of family stories that remain alive in my heart.  Thanks Gertrude Monroe Circa. 1920...it is good to see you as a teenager.  Your coffee cup sits on my mantel as I write... still dancing with your stories.

The Eyes Have It

Here she is, in living color.  Taken around 1890, this photo is unique among the many, many, family pictures that have been captured  among my ancestors.  It is the only color picture taken during this time period that seems to have survived.

 Her name is Lillie Henderson, and she was the older step sister to my maternal great grandmother Ellen Dorcas Henderson.  Not much is recorded of her life among the family records.  Her mother's name is not even recorded, but her father was Abraham B. Henderson (nickname Sonny) who by a first marriage had two children.  She is recorded to have died around the age of 16 years.

Red hair, blue eyes, and  a determined look, fills the camera.  There is a certain sadness about her... shoulders straight, hair perfectly combed, blue dress and a red bow that surrounds a high necked, laced collar.  But it is the eyes that captured my heart.

Some say that the eyes are the windows of the soul.  In this photograph of a long forgotten ancestor, the eyes have it.

Catch Me...If You Can...

Playing "tag" always involved several folks.  At least three or more would be necessary to make it exciting.  Of course "hide and seek" could be played with two, but in "tag" chasing the same person around got less interesting as you came to recognize all the other's moves.

Now on a summer day, being alone would make it much more difficult to play any of the above.  The following picture shows my Dad on such an occasion.

 June 10, 1929...3 yrs...Henry Edward Jones...is written on the back.  It must have been high noon since the shadow is perpendicular.  The yard is grassy, with bushes, trees, and shade...even some possible hiding places.  A man in the background is oblivious to this picture taking as he crosses the street.  Anyhow, take this picture if you must.   Then lets play...catch me...if you can.

Four Generations Side by Side

A few days ago, I noticed these pictures my wife had placed on some of our kitchen cabinets.  They were positioned  pretty much as shown, the black and white on top, and the color picture below.  Four generations I thought.    Looking carefully, I saw myself in both pictures.  About the same age [when the pictures were taken], about the same position [the right hand side], the same round head, the same eyes and nose,  is my youngest grandson Ian. 

The upper picture was taken in the 1950s.  The lower picture was taken not so long ago.  My family and me, and my youngest daughter Ellen and her family, are shown some 50 years apart.  The smiles look much the same.  Four generations on film side by side, how about that.

Front Porches

Facing the world around us comes from all sorts of opportunities.  Sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and touches give us all types of input.  A little here, a little there...and off we go into this thing called life.  How we learn and grow is often a result.

My Dad is shown in one of his opportunities.

It would be around the year 1926 - 1927, and he would have been less then one year of age.   There is this look of deep thought which must have been from seeing a passing bug, or perhaps caused by one of those diaper filling events that parents get to enjoy on many occasions.

A front porch it would seem to be.  He has been placed in one of those wheelie things that give you a chance to move around once you have figured out how to navigate the contraption.  There is a small chair placed to the side, but I bet Dad would not sit still to occupy this space for very long.  Let's get rolling!  Got to take advantage of this opportunity to explore this front porch.  Where did that bug go anyway?   Life, and the front porches...let's get going...opportunities await.

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.

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.

With Love, Henry

The world had changed in 1945-1946. Most of this world had been involved in a war that was to impact many, many lives for generations to come. Indeed it did.

It was the picture to the right that caught my attention. It was taken in 1946 below one of the most famous mountains in the world. To the French it was "Mont Cervin". To the Italian it was "Monte Cervino". To the Swiss, it was just called "Matterhorn". Straddling the frontier between Switzerland and Italy, all 14,691 feet stands proudly. No war was going to change me it seems to be saying. My Dad stands here. The picture has in his hand writing, "With Love, Henry".

What? Love in the mist of all this mess? How was one to deal with all the hatred, death, killings, destruction, war...war...war! Some thought it would never end. But, here is my Dad, sending a picture to his family, with love. The folks below would have received it.

This picture shows Dad's younger sister, Ray. She is recording a picture with her Mom, my Mam maw... that shared moment in time caught by the camera of life. Ray was still in high school, and Mam maw was working outside the home. There were three younger siblings some ten years younger, but I guess this picture was one of those mother-daughter adventures, known only to moms and the oldest daughters.

The world goes on...1945-1946...With Love, Henry.

What Memories - Trick or Treat

It is that time of year again when those little ghost and goblins show up on your steps and front door asking for goodies. Just how this all got started is certainly a mystery, but it was a favorite time of year for me. Dressing up in all those different costumes, running from house to house, and looking at all those carved pumpkins made for an interesting evening.

French Avenue was the best place in Winchester to "trick or treat". [I got better with the tricks as age increased.] This was the part of town that had all those old houses with the very large porches, and many single, old women, who would invite you into their houses. The tables were often set with all kinds of candies, and you were allowed to help yourself. [A hand full or two was certainly possible!] They would laugh, and admire your costume, and make over the excitement of event. Of course you always had to say "trick or treat" several times.

The picture above shows one of the cousins in their skeleton costume. It had to be one of the cousins since I do not remember every wearing a coat while going about the business of collecting all those goodies. [It would usually take me two weeks or so to get through my sack!] Plus, I would have never stood so still having my picture taken in such a getup. At any rate, such was the times...mask, sack, and outfit. Trick or Treat...they say...what memories.

Row, Row, Row Your Boat

A family reunion was always a big deal in my growing up years. This was especially true on the Ewen-Morton side of the family tree. We would often gather at Natural Bridge State Park which was just a hop, skip, and a jump up the road from Slade and Nada where Mom had spent most of her growing up years. This natural wonder had a trail to the top which had "fat man's squeeze". This of course was one of my favorites since I was small and skinny and well, many on my Ewen-Morton side were a littler larger than I.

The picture shows a boat load of cousins. The autos in the background suggest this was taken around 1956 and my brother Henry is sitting high in the stern. [That's the back of the boat.] I am the one leaning over the side with my hand in the water, feeling the coolness, wanting to jump right into the clear stream. [On the most part, this was pre-pollution days.] Water was to play an important part in my life yet to come, being a swimming instructor for many years. [I taught most of Winchester how to swim.] At any rate, on this summer day, my cousins and I shared an adventure on the waters of time...row, row, row your boat.

Calling Uncle

For most of us upon this earth, we grow up around uncles. The brothers to our mom's and dad's who may or may not play an important role in our early childhood development. [Husbands to our aunts are also called uncles, but somehow they seemed not as involved.]

Six uncles were involved in my childhood. Four on my mother's side [Ewen], and two on my father's [Jones]. The picture to the right shows my two uncles on my father's side in their own early school days. Both red headed, uncle Gayle was six (extreme right), and uncle Gene was eight years old. They were attending Hickman Street School, where many of my Jones family had walked the halls. World War II was about to end, and I suspect they had their own struggles during their growing up years.

Uncle Gayle looks a bit disturbed by all this first grade picture taking. That horizontal Jones smile (or frown) is in place. I have had a bad hair day so lets get this over with, he seems to be saying. Uncle Gayle introduced me to scouts and taught me to tie square knots.

Uncle Gene has a little different look. Almost smiling, his hair is carefully combed, and his expression seems confident. Here I am world, make way, he seems to be saying. He was the story teller of our family, and I spent many hours soaking in the verbal acrobatics that made, well Gene, Gene. I was not always sure I could believe every story that was told, but the laughter and joy in the telling covered most of my suspicions. He opened many doors to my childhood imagination. Laughing so hard sometimes, I had to call...Uncle.

Linda Carol and Ghost Stories

The first baby sitter I can remember was Linda Carol. We always called her "Linda Carol". Not "Linda" or "Carol", but her full name was used. The reason for this was not clear since there was not another Linda in our family to get her confused with. Besides, when my middle name was added to my first name, "Jerry Edward!"...it usually meant that I was in some kind of trouble. [Mostly Mom and Dad used this word combination to tell me to begin to examine my ongoing activities.]

Linda Carol was the baby sister of my Dad with some sixteen years between them. She was one of my favorite aunts. The picture to the right shows her at the summer of her "horse picture" around 1947-48. Her red hair and easy smile shows through, and it was her continued smile that brought my brother and me through many baby sitting episodes. She was very good at telling ghost stories... and at night, on the side porch, with the street light streaming dancing shadows along the stone steps, was the ideal area. Just as my heart started to pound, and just as the ghost started to arrive...Boo!...she would say, laughing from ear to ear.

Linda Carol, thank you for all those baby sitting days, and all those ghost stories...enjoy your ride.

Twenty Years Before

The last post showed a picture of the "Ewen Clan" at the 50th Wedding Anniversary of Grandad and Granny Ewen. The picture to the right shows pretty much the same clan some 20 years before.

My Dad had just starting dating Mom, and the year would be about 1947 plus or minus a year or so. The family was taking another picture which always seemed to be part of the gatherings. Dad is standing at the far right with his hands in his pockets. Not many smiles in this picture. Maybe this was just before eating time, and every one was a bit hungry? Maybe they had just finished a round of horse shoes and the losers were a bit upset? At any rate, Dad was making his required family visit with everyone else making their judgement about this left-handed, red head who wanted to marry Myrna Jean. There was even Junior's wife Juanita standing between Mom and Dad! Everyone seems tightly packed except Dad, who is leaning a little to the left. Mom has a young one before her and I am not sure who this little girl is. Dad was not quite a member of this family yet!

J.C. (John Clarence) does not seem to be in the picture, but he appears to be the only one missing. [Maybe he was taking the picture.] Wow, some 20 years before, how we change.

A Good Celtic Mixture

The last post showed a picture of my Dad's brothers and sisters with their mother. [Pap paw had died before this picture was taken.] All six of them with their distinctive red hair, fair skin, and freckles showing through [before they turned gray].

The picture to the right shows the brothers and sisters of my Mom, with their black "Ewen" hair, dark skin, and dark eyes. This was taken at the 50th Wedding Anniversary of Granny and Grandad Ewen. [March 21, 1968.]

From left to right: Sidney Brent Ewen, b. 1924 [we called Junior]; Kenard Darrell Ewen, b. 1942 [the baby of the family]; Myrna Jean Ewen, b. 1930 [my Mom!]; Charles Ronald Ewen, b. 1939 [we called Charlie, who took me on my first tree climbing experience!]; Eva Faye Ewen, b. 1928; John Clearence Ewen, b. 1922 [we called J.C.]; Cordius Allene Ewen, b. 1926 [we called Allene, and it was at her house I watched the landing on the moon 1969!]; Edith Delorese Ewen, b. 1934; and Wanda Bernice Ewen, b. 1937.
Nine of twelve children to have survived. All are standing behind their parents, Sidney and Stella. [We called Grandad and Granny.]

Scottish and Welsh would meet in the Bluegrass of Kentucky, resulting in my brother and me. A good Celtic mixture.

First Encounter

My genealogy days are thought to have started some 51 years ago while playing hide and seek in Granny Ewen's closet. [See post "50 Years of Genealogy", July 7, 2010.] That was until I found this picture of my brother and me at Nada cemetery standing with Granny Ewen. It seems that I was about four, and my brother about six years of age. Granny has her arm around Henry's right shoulder, and I have my hands folded respectfully. Henry is holding the flowers which I guess were to be placed among those already evident. It must have been mid-summer since our summer attire was in place, [See post "Shorts and Nothing Else", Dec. 30, 2010.], except we needed to wear shoes so we didn't mess our feet up. This might even had been that same summer we had our picture taken on Danny!

We must have been facing the head stone of George Washington Ewen. I do remember seeing a headstone with some kind of funny markings on it. This must have been the Mason's symbol faintly seen now in the picture to the right. The headstone clearly shows the wear and tear of time, and vandals, since it was placed more than a century ago. This is also where three daughters of Granny had been buried so we could have been saying hello to them. I certainly seem to be standing stiffly which means I must have been unsure as to what to do around these dead folks. Making silly faces would not seem quite right. [Pictures of the head stones are shown in the post "Nada cemetery", Aug. 14, 2010.]


The last picture shows the church that was standing behind our backs. This picture taken at just about the same angle, and just about the same position. It was our family's Sunday go to meeting church shown in the post of January 25, 2011. The fence line has grown, and crowded out the front. It seems that many other things have crowded out this small structure used by my family so many years ago. Only the graves remain.



George Washington Ewen and his wife Susan Francis (nee Cole) are buried there...just beyond the gate.

My brother and I were there some 50 years ago...saying hello.

"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.

Best Friends

The world would never be the same after M. Daguerre took his first photo. It appeared in the Gazette de france, Jan. 6, 1839 edition, and since this point, an untold number of images have been caught. These images have been called "Daguerreotypes".

By 1856, a quickly made, inexpensive product, was produced ultimately called a tintype. [At first they were called ferrotype or melainotype but who could say these words.] They came in various sizes from a whole plate (6 1/2 inches x 8 1/2 inches) down to a 1/9 plate (2 inches x 2 1/2 inches). They were produced on very thin sheets of iron involving certain chemicals which gave a very sturdy surface. These images could be carried easily and mailed easily. They captured the Civil War period in America in amazing fashion. They became the "folk art" of the day.

The picture above shows such a tintype from my families' collection. It is a 1/2 plate, measuring 4 1/2 x 5 1/2 inches. [An inch scale and millimeter scale are shown.] It has a plain back ground and dark surface common to the tintype. It shows a man with his dog. [I have been unable to identify his name, but I believe him to be a Ewen.]


The picture to the right is an enlargement of this tintype. You needed to sit still around 30 seconds to capture the image. Not much showing on this fellows face. Coat and tie are in place. Sitting stiffly. He seems to be holding his dog comfortably, and the dog has his paws upon the right knee. What an experience. Holding a dog still for any amount of time is a challenge. I wonder who he was.

A man and his dog...best friends.