Sentimental Sunday - Remembering My Beloved Ancestors

Today is just one of those days.  As a matter of fact, it's been one of those weeks.  Well, to be truthful, it's just been one of those MONTHS!  Many of you know the kind I mean - those time periods where you just can't seem to stop thinking about those loved ones who've gone on to join the Ancestors. Everywhere you look, there are reminders.  Your mind seems filled with memories - some that make you smile (or even burst out into spontaneous laughter), and some that brings tears to your eyes or cause you to start weeping at even the most inopportune times. Yep, that's what the month of April has been for me.

To honor those whose spirits have instigated the roller coaster of emotions I've been experiencing, recently, I dedicate this post to their memory.  So here they are, the folks I haven't been able to get off of my mind:

My brother, Arthur YARBOROUGH, Jr. (August 23, 1960 - April 6, 1984)

Arthur and me - Probably Easter 1968

My daddy, Arthur P. Yarborough, Sr. (June 24, 1924 - October 4, 1997)

Me with my Daddy - Probably on his (and my daughter, Natasha's) birthday 1983



My grandmother, Anna GREEN Yarborough (January 18, 1891 - February 17, 1977)

My grandma and me - Probably 1968 or 1969



My cousin, "Uncle" George Royster Greene, Sr. (October 5, 1930 - March 17, 2013)

My "Uncle George" in his judge's robe, probably in the 1980's. 
He and my father were first cousins, but considered each other brothers. He was very special to me.
Stay tuned for a post about him, soon.



My grandmother, Mary DAVIS Thomas (December 26, 1897 - June 12, 1986)

My Grandma Thomas (Looks like she'd just come from church!)

These are the folks who have been on my mind, along with a few more, who weren't family members.  I've experienced a lot of loss in my life, and most of it was at a young age.  Not only have I been thinking of these loved ones, but I've also been reflecting (even more heavily than usual) on those of my Ancestors whom I never knew, and in many cases, never even knew about until I began my research.  I hope to get back to writing, so that I can share my thoughts (and revelations), and bring more information about those who've gone on to the LIGHT. :)

Thanks for reading.

A very sentimental,

Renate


The permanent link to this post is: http://justthinking130.blogspot.com/2013/04/sentimental-sunday-remembering-my.html

Sepia Saturday - Mom At the Beach

I think this is my first time participating in Sepia Saturday, but having recently rediscovered this picture of my mom, I couldn't resist.  This is my mother, Maryanne Hill Yarborough.  I don't know where or when the picture was taken, but my guess is that it was sometime in the mid- to late 1950's on one of the beaches here in Hampton Roads, VA.  (She would have been between 20 - 25 years old.) Since the beaches were still segregated at that time, she was probably either at Ocean Breeze or Sea View in the Virginia Beach/Norfolk area, or (less-probably) at Bay Shore in Hampton.

On the slim chance that the picture was taken a bit later, say in the early to mid-60's, I'd most certainly say that this is Buckroe Beach in Hampton, where we moved in 1964. However, by that time, my mom would have had 4 children, and I just think she looks a little too relaxed for it to have been then.  But, you never know!

My mom is obviously "stiking a pose", and I think she looks very pretty, and even "sexy".  (Is one supposed to say that about one's mother?) :)  I plan to visit the area beaches to see if I can locate this spot, based on what I see in the background of the photo.  Wish me luck!

Renate

PS... To see a picture of my grandmother (my mother's mother) in all her swimsuit glory, please take a look at my previous post, "Fun in the Sun - Grandma Thomas, Back in the Day!" which was posted in 2010 for the 95th Edition of the Carnival of Genealogy.






  To participate in Sepia Saturday, click here!

                                              

My Special Cousin - (A post inspired by Ann Coulter's ignorance)

At the time of this posting, our country is nine days away from a presidential election, in which America's citizens will exercise our right choose our country's leader for the next four years.  As the campaign season comes closer to an end, more and more high-profile people are stepping into the media spotlight to express their views, and in more than one instance, they are exposing their "true colors" to the world.  One such example occured this past week, when conservative social and political commentator, Ann Coulter, referred to the President of the United States as a "retard" in a post from her Twitter account.

Deservedly so, Ms. Coulter's remark has instigated a monumental backlash from multiple demographics, the most notable response being an open letter from Special Olympian, John Franklin Stephens, who so eloquently and maturely gave Ms. Coulter a verbal "spanking" for her comment.  I applaud Mr. Stephens, whom I had the pleasure of seeing and hearing Thursday night on a CNN segment of "Piers Morgan Tonight". 

However, the unfortunate statement by Ms. Coulter (for which she blatantly gives no apology), also was the impetus for another piece of writing, which has effected me deeply, and personally, and has caused me to reflect on a yet untouched aspect of my genealogical research and family history.  As a result of our first ever reunion of the descendants of Nathaniel Hawkins and Anna Green, which occured this past July, I've met several new cousins, either in person, or electronically (via Facebook).  One of these cousins, Jamila Taylor, who lives in Seattle, Washington, composed a tribute to her twin brother, William, in response to Ms. Coulter's remarks.   Her well-written, articulate essay moved me greatly, and immediately after reading it, I contacted my cousin to ask permission to reprint it, on my blog.  Here, in it's entirety, is her letter:

My Special Twin

by Jamila E. Taylor on Wednesday, October 24, 2012 at 10:27am

After reading the eloquent open letter to Ann Coulter by John Franklin Stephens (http://specialolympicsblog.wordpress.com/2012/10/23/an-open-letter-to-ann-coulter/) about her remark using the "retard" word in reference to President Obama, I thought I'd share my thoughts on my twin brother, William. As some of you may know, my brother has learning disabilities. That open letter and my brother both embody the heart of the matter -- true character.

If you see us together, we still enjoy the brother-sister banter and yet, he is a very significant reason of why I am so driven. My parents aptly chose to enroll him in schools that could best address his academic development. Out of the 12 years of public education, we only attended 3 years of school together. While I was in advanced classes, my twin was in special education. In our early years, the doctors and specialists didn't believe he would graduate high school; He did that. They said he would never step foot on a college campus as a student; He did that. They said he would never get his driver's license or drive a car; He did that -- and I dare say he has a spotless driving record. They never imagined he'd appear in the local newspaper. And yet, He did that.

Willliam's photo from Eugene's Register-Guard in 2004 when he worked at the Oregon Ice Cream factory.


William is a paradox of expertise. If the family needed someone to set up the new electronics, we call on William. On many occasions, you could hear my mom or dad affectionately yelling, "William! Come set up the VCR so that I can record my show." His video gaming expertise has always been top-notch. I hated losing to him ALL of the time. He could finish a newly-released game in the first week. What's interesting is how he immersed himself into the gamer world in such a diligent way. He'd subscribe to the gamer magazines, read them thoroughly and then explore the video game in a whole new way with the new tricks he learned. After all, he is from a research-focused, academic family. Why would he be any different?

As an adult, William struggles to find employment although he's probably one of the most reliable and consistent people around. He's always on time, rarely misses work, and willing to learn. William puts forth a meticulous effort in his tasks.

William is a keen observer of the world around him. He learned early on to carefully, quickly, discern someone's character. He is my protector in so many ways. At 6'4" he is the absolute tallest in our family and he towers over all of us. He stands out and sees what we don't. He chooses his words with much effort. When he speaks, I listen. Sometimes I pretend not too. Come on, I'm still his sister. It's easy for me to feel comfort and protection just being in his presence. I look forward to the day when he gets to be the loving uncle to my future children.

William is known by many, friended by few, loved by us.

I've never met my cousin William.  Beyond entering his name on my numerous family trees, I've known nothing of his existence.  But, thanks to his sister, I now know who he is, and it would be my pleasure to meet him (and Jamila), someday.  Reading this tribute to him has brought to my attention the fact that I've never even considered looking back into my family history to determine if any of my ancestors may have had intellectual disabilities.  I have profiled them according to where they lived, types of employment, diseases and causes of death, literacy levels, whether they owned land or not, racial characteristics, evidence mental illness, and more; but it never even occured to me to see if our family has any history of intellectual disability, or what used to be referred to as,"mental retardation". Furthermore, in the many years that I've been a part of the online genealogy community, I haven't encountered a discussion on this matter.  (I'm not saying it hasn't happened, but I just haven't run across or been a part of it!)

That said, I am going to make this a focus area for my next segment of research.  In thinking about the family members that I do know of, I can only come up with one person in my direct bloodline who's had a documented intellectual disability, but there have been several in our extended family tree.  I know that it will probably be challenging to uncover this kind of information, espescially since prior to about the 1950's, quite often people with intellectual differences may have been hidden, or institutionalized, but I'm going to start digging.  If anyone has ideas about good resources to check, please share them in the comments section.  (I will be looking for resources in North Carolina.)

Thanks for reading, and thank you, again, Cousin Jamila for your insightful tribute to your brother, and my cousin, William.

Renate

Permalink to this posting:  http://justthinking130.blogspot.com/2012/10/my-special-cousin-post-inspired-by.html









.

Amanuensis Monday - Dunston - Arendell Bastardy Bond

Hi Folks,
I know I have posted in a long time, but LIFE has taken me in other directions, so I haven't been very focused on the family history or the blog.  Hopefully, I'll get back to posting more regularly at some point, but for now, I've decided to at least try to pop in and do some of the memes, using content that I have readily available, or (perhaps) reposting some of my earleir messages.

Today, for Amanuensis Monday, I'm sharing a document that I took a picture of a few years ago during one of my trips to the North Carolina State Library and Archives.  This document is a bastardy bond, taken out for Hillory Dunston, who is the purported father of a "bastard" child born to Florence Arendell.  My interest in this was because I do have Dunston ancestors rom Franklin County, and I'm sure Hllory must've been related to them, but I have not yet established the connection.

Dunston-Arendell Bastardy Bond
(Click to enlarge)

Transcription:

State of North Carolina

Franklin County

To any lawful officer
Whereas upon the examination of Florence Arendell this day taken on oath before me, it appears that she has been delivered of a child which child is a bastard and may become chargeable to the said county and the said Florence Arendell has confessed that Hillory Dunston of the county aforesaid did beget the said child and has charged him with the same. These are therefore to command you to apprehend the said Hillory Dunston and bring him before me or some Justice of the Peace for the said county to answer the said charge.
Given under my hand and seal this 13th day of 1870.

H B Well JP (seal)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I was unable to locate Florence Arendell in either the 1870 or 1880 Census, so unfortunately, I couldn't ascertain the name or gender of the child who is the subject of this document.  I always wonder though, if the descendents of the children for whom these bonds exist, have ever seen them, or if they know their ancestry.  Certainly, having a copy of one of these "bastardy bonds" could help to confirm family lore, in many cases, although, in some situations (such as my own, but more on that in a future post), it may actually end up causing more confusion!

Happy reading, all.

Renate

PS... One other thing:  I don't know if this Florence Arendell was Black or White.  The Dunstans had been Free Blacks prior to 1870, and, although most of them partnered with other people of color, many of them could pass for white, and could have easily chosen to cross racial lines.  Hillory Dunston was a well-known character in Franklin County, for many reasons.  He was active on both sides of the proverbial "tracks", judging from the number of times and instances that I've run across him in my research, but still, my sense is that this Florence Arendell was most likely not White.

Wordless (Wedding?) Wednesday



Jessie Green (maybe?)


Yes, this is supposed to be "wordless", but this time, I'm asking for your words!  I took a snapshot of this photo at a recent family reunion, but I'm hesitant to agree that it is the person who the owner of the picture had it labeled as.  If anyone can date this dress for me (even approximately), it would be very helpful in helping me to make my case.  Also, do you think it looks like a wedding dress?  I do.

Thanks!
Renate

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday - Ancestor LOVE

On my inaugural visit to Roanoke Chapel Baptist Church Cemetery, I stumbled across this little "message" from my great-great grandfather, Asa Brown, and other ancestral family members whom I'd found buried there.  Needless to say, my heart was warmed in this touching moment.

Renate

Tombstone Tuesday - Perseverance PAYS!

Subtitle: Success in the Cemetery!

I'm posting today to share my excitement about a victory (of sorts) that I've had.  I thought that this was going to be more of a follow-up post, however, upon searching my blog, I've discovered that I never did write about the search for my maternal grandmother's grave marker.

My mother's mother, Mary Thomas, died in 1986.  She was buried in Calvary Cemetery, an historical burial ground in Norfolk, Virginia.  Because I spent the first 14 years of my genealogical journey completely focused on researching my paternal ancestors, it wasn't until just a few years ago, when I turned my attention to my mother's folks, that I decided to head over to Norfolk to visit my grandmother's grave.  Once I did, I was disappointed to discover that the spot where she rested was covered only by green grass, and wasn't marked in any way.
I was 24 years old when my grandmother died, and of course, I attended her funeral.  However, not being a cemetery or genealogy buff at the time, I can't say that I paid any attention to how the grave was marked.  But, what I did know (or at least what I thought) was that my mother and her two siblings would certainly have put some kind of a marker on their mother's grave.  I inquired at the cemetery office, but long story, short, they had no records related to the markers or headstones.  Their records only pertained to the actual burials.

At the advice of the person in the cemetery office, I contacted Hale Funeral Home, to see if they had any records pertaining to my grandmother's burial.  (I called right from the grounds of the cemetery, hoping to just drive right over!)  Unfortunately (and quite sadly), the person I spoke with told me a story of transferred management after family deaths, and records which had actually been THROWN AWAY.  If I recall correctly, all of the pre-1997 records of this funeral home, which has been serving African-Americans in the Tidewater area for 100 years, were destroyed during changes in management.  Needless to say, I was disappointed, and appalled.  Not only were the records of my own ancestors gone - I actually have several who were serviced by this funeral home - but so were those of hundreds of others. 

After this troubling revelation, it seemed that there would be no way for me to prove that there'd once been a marker at my grandmother's gravesite.  My mother told me that my uncle had handled the burial transactions, and when I asked him about it, he said he no longer had any of the paperwork, but reiterated that he "thought" there was "some kind of stone, or something" at the grave.  With nothing else to go on, I just kind of put this to the side, but vowed to one day get to the bottom of it. (No pun intended.) :)

Anyway, life and genealogy went on, and then one day, quite by accident, I ran across this picture, while going through some things at my mother's house:



My nephew, Robert, and my daughter, Natasha, beside the freshly-covered grave of their great-grandmother,
Mary Thomas.

 So, there ya go!  You'd better believe I was doing the genealogy happy-dance, for here was all the proof I needed (and more)!  As soon as I saw this picture, I knew for sure that this was my grandmother's burial location, because it was the exact spot on which I'd stood with the cemetery caretaker, but all that was there was grass.  But here were my nephew, age 6, and my daughter, age 4 obviously not too long after my grandmother had been buried.

With this picture in hand, I took the 35-minute drive over to Norfolk last Monday, ready for battle.  I called ahead to let them know I was coming, and "Bret", the current manager of the cemetery, after hearing my plight, said he'd pull his records and be ready for me.  Once there, he and another employee in the office were very kind and accommodating towards me, so no fight was necessary. :)  Bret verified the location of my family plot (yes, it's a family plot, but I'll write about that in another post), and printed out a new map for me using their fancy-smancy new program.  Then, off we went, armed with my proof-providing picture to do a "test-dig". 

I couldn't believe how excited I was about this, but I was almost beside myself.  When we got to the plot, I used the picture to help Bret locate the exact spot in which to drive his shovel, and after just a couple of hits in that spot, we heard it - the unmistakeable clang of metal against stone.

Bret marks the spot for the dig.

            

And so we began...

As Bret chisled and dug, I continued to "coach" him, directionally.  After just a few minutes, I had all of the confirmation I needed.

Do you see what I see?




At this point, tears began to well up in my eyes, as I realized that we had, indeed, found my grandmother.  Of course she was there all along, but there was just something about the grave being unmarked that was very unsettling to me.  Now, I knew for sure that we were in the right spot, and presumably my grandma, along with her husband, her parents, and her uncle were all right there where they'd been laid to rest. 

Bret continued his work, commenting to me, "You were exactly right about it.", as he dug, more gently now, around the step.  In reverence to my ancestors, I remained silent, as he uncovered the unmistakeable match to my photograph.

And there it is, the THOMAS surname, clear as day.

Just a few minutes after the step was completely revealed, as Bret was explaining to me that it would be raised and reset before the end of the week, a truck drove by with the very men who would be doing it. He summons them to stop, and they came over and heard the whole story.  Everyone involved (including Bret) seemed surprised and baffled that the marker had been allowed to sink like that, since the cemetery is well, and consistently cared for, but what happened, happened.  I'm just glad that they were so amicable about it, and willing to do the work (at no cost to my family, of course) to right the situation.  I didn't go back yet, but I'm guessing the work has been done.  I plan to go over this weekend to see.

There was so much more to this post, but, unfortunately, I hit a wrong button last night was I was creating it, and lost all but the very first part.  Time only permits me to redo this much for now, but thank you for reading.  Needless to say, my heart is glad. :)

Thanks for reading.

Renate