With all the Halloween stuff out, houses trimmed and the lights aglow with ghosts and gobblins, I couldn't help but think about how different it is now than: "way back when". I don't remember our having anything outside of school until after we moved to Belgrave Avenue in 1938. Then the kids in the neighborhood talked about "trick or treat". As I recall, there was a lot more planning than there was participation by the general population. Decorations, none. Even pumpkins were not out at every door like we have today.
When we did find a house that had something to share with the kids, it was usually something they had around the house. Cookies, apples, oranges sometimes even a pennie. They were few and far between. I don't think we did much tricking, but some of the older boys got nasty and soaped a few windows when they didn't get something.
Costumes were made up from what we could find around the house. A lot of bums, old ladies, etc. Wouldn't have found much help in any of the stores. They just didn't do those things back then. You have to realize it was the ending of the Depression and money was not used for things that weren't useful past one wearing. We didn't miss it because it just wasn't part of the norm for the time we were kids.
I think the place I noticed the most excitement about Halloween was when I lived in Utah. They seem to go all out for it there in a very big way. Lots of houses decorate up nearly as much as they do for Christmas. String orange lights and have scenes on their lawns. More and more it seems to spread around, but it still doesn't meet the high standards here in California that it has reached in the State of Utah.
It is sad to me that something that is so Kid oriented has been turned into a time when parents have to be so careful because of a few "nut cases" that would do harm to children having such a wonderfully clean and wholesom run in the community. I am greatful for the Church and the way they have planned things that will give the kids a safe way to enjoy Halloween. Putting the Wards together to make it more fun is even better. Costumes can be such fun and they don't need masks to make them expressive of what the individual wants to pretend for the social activity. It seems to be a time when parents are ready to take the small ones out and let them
meet neighbors and have a good experience at the same time.
The little ones are so darn cute in their costumes, and so shy when they first have a Halloween.
A shame the older kids can't control their "free spirits" better. I am sorry to see so many good
pumpkins smashed in the streets, just for a lark. I guess there are some things that just have to be excused in the face of the excitement of all the activity and hipe that goes with such a time.
Anyway - Halloween has grown into quite a different time than when I was younger. I have seen it become so much more than it was "way back when". Not that I think it is all that bad, it
is just that it seems so much is crammed into so little time from the end of October till the end of December. Then it isn't something that could be changed seeings it has to do with Harvest time
and all. Nothing like the smell of Hot Apple Cider and cinnamon cookies or donuts. Of course there is bobbing for apples too.
How fortunate I am to have lived at a time when I have been able to witness the growth of things that make the life of children so enjoyable. To have been a and watched my children participate in such fun things and then set back and enjoy grand-children and now great -grand-children thrill to the excitement that Halloween brings. Just remember - too much candy isn't good for your teeth, and can keep you from feeling ready for the good food we all need to grow into healthy and happy families - because we do know that OUR FAMILY IS FOREVER! I love you each and everyone!
Writtne this 28th day of October 2009
by: Eileen C. Rosenberg
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Pictures and Genealogy
I just received a new disc from my brother Ron today and have been , thanks to the help I got from Nemiha, putting them on our Family Records. I never knew just how they would bring back so many memories for me. You know the family left the East when I was just 6 years old. Mom and I went back for a visit in 1938 and that was the last time I saw the family all
together. A couple of Moms brothers came to California a few times, but I was much older,
and wasn't around when they were visiting. They stayed with Uncle Bill in South Gate.
I thought it might give you some insight into some of the individuals when you look at their pictures as you never met any of them.
Uncle Daniel Luther Hall - was a potter by trade and raised prize Chickens and was a Chicken Judge at the Fairs in Ohio. The oldest of the Hall Family, he carried a pretty heavy load when
James Madison Hall deserted the family in 1902. He married and had a large family of his own.
Uncle Simon Clarence Hall - was a potter by trade but was also a business man. Had trained as
a bookkeeper and had a lovely handwritting. Back then, men were the clerks, etc. and needed to be able to write a fine hand. He owned his own market for some years and was a good butcher
as well. His wife Bertha was a large raw-boned women. She was sweet and a delight to be around. She worked in the store with Uncle Simon so they had Auth Lib come and keep house for them and care for their children while they were at the store. Made a lovely home for Aunt Lib who was the younger sister of Grandma Hall.
Eunice May Hall married Ode McKinzie. She knew the family was poor, so planned a wedding that would not make things hard for them. I didn't know Aunt Eunice well. She was so much older than Mom. We visited their home, where I learned to love the family. Aunt Eunice was a large boned lady, a great cook, and very neat house keeper.
Martha Olive Hall married Harry Ellsworth Akins. She was a small woman with very narrow feet. I know that because Mom use to have to wear her hand-me-down shoes and Mom had a
Medium width foot. She developed corns on her toes from wearing Olive's shoes. There were always a great many things the family had to do to make sure everyone had what was needed.
Olive had a hard life. Her oldest daughter died as a teen ager, and her second daughter was
crippled with Polio. They had three brothers who I am sad to say were very mean to Grace. She wore braces and was very deformed from the illness. I never met anyone who was more lovely in spirit than Grace.
William James Hall had to be about the best. He married twice and I loved both of his wives. His first Naomi was a lovely lady. She was a great cook and house keeper. She could peel a potato so the skins were almost transparent. Mom said she was so jealous of Bill that is why their marriage never lasted. I suppose not being able to have children was a great sorrow to her. She never remarried and I believe she loved Bill until the day she died. His second wife Clara moved with him to California where they worked in the Potteries. They married shortly after they arrived in California. They bought a home in South Gate, CA where she raised her "dogs" and he raised his Banty Chickens. He was a Chicken Judge and was President of the Chicken Judges Association. He was well know and liked. He made all the major Fairs in California. He became our seragate dad when ours was killed. He was always there for us kids, and we loved having him with us on Holidays. He and Mom were very close.
Oliver Edward "Dick" Hall was the handsome one of the family. Mom said he didn't have to chase the girls they wouldn't leave him alone. She wondered how his wife put up with it for so many years. I guess that is what true love is, long suffering. They had a family of boys. The only daughter they had was killed when she was small when she was struck by a car.
John Richard Hall was the last son in the family. He was a potter as well. I never knew him too well. He moved with his wife and son to California and we saw them a few times, but they did not make that many visits and I was surprised they didn't keep in touch with Mom or Uncle Bill all that much. The Son was quite a business man. In an out of one thing and then another. I don't believe that is why they called him Jack instead of John, but then what do I know?
Uncle John's wife was a frail little thing and not very out going. I thought she was very attractive, but not near as easy to get to know and love as the others.
Mom was the baby of the family and she could hardly have been known as spoiled. It was always her lot to remember not to upset their mother. The effects of that left some pretty big emotional scars on Mom. Ones I was not aware of until I became much older. She resented not having a Dad like other kids.
Lets see: Luther was 14 when their Dad left the family. Simon was 13, Eunice was 11, Olive was 10, Bill was 8, John was 3 and Mom was 9 months old. Luther and Simon became the bread winners in the family. Luther worked in the Potteries and Simon went around the farms as a day laborer. Slept in barns and was paid a small amount plus his food. Every extra pennie he had he sent home to help the family. When Grandma opened a boarding house, Eunice, Olive and Mom had to help with the household chores as well as cooking. When Grandma was out on a nursing case, they were totally in charge of keeping things going.
In my day the way parents tried to keep their children in line, they told stories about how far they walked to school in the snow. When we were kids, our parents had to do little but rehearse their lives. Mom with hers and Dad with his coming from England where things were pretty great, only to find a Step-mother who wasn't the nicest person in town and a Dad who worked hard just to keep things together. Both my parents had to go to work when they were very young. I'm not sure about Dad, but I know Mom went into the Pottery when she was 12 or 13.
I knew all these people. They were brought up with great strenghts. They were bound together in a family unit that took care of each other, but mostly kept appearances up to shore up their
Mother who had been so badly treated by the man she loved and trusted.
A heritage is pretty special, especially when we can look back and see how far we have come. I had a pretty well matched set of parents. They found each other at a time when things were just moving forward following the War to end all wars. The First World War. Things were suppose to be better, but the hard times were not yet over. It would take another War and sending their sons off to fight before their fortunes would turn out better.
When doing without was the norm and stretching what little was had to go all the way around was behind them, they were still frugal and never bought on credit. If they did not have the cash, they could wait. I don't believe we kids ever knew just how much they did for us. I know we were not demanding, because no one we knew had anything more than what we had. I had wished many a time I could have a bought dress rather than one that was home made, but it
was never a big deal. I always had plenty.
I guess what I am trying to put down here is I came from a pretty amazing family. They never gave up trying to find their Dad. They never did. It was only after 95 years that the truth of
where James Madison Hall/Eaton left that the threads of the fabric were knit back together.
I am sorry the family did not realize they were within a stones throw of him most of the time.
They were pretty sure he had changed is name, but had no idea where he was. Thank goodness for a cousin who wanted to know more about her Grand Father that she started doing Genealogy. In a wild chance, she sent a letter to every "J" Rosenberg she found in Califronia.
There were 9. Bingo she found me, and I have been able to piece together from my side what they needed for their side. We have joined into an extended family and keep in touch with each other. Ron and I made a trip for a mini reunion with most of the family in Canada. What a neat trip that turned out to be. We were offically adopted by the Eatons. Since then I have learned
that Eaton is really the family name and not Hall. Not that it changes anything, but it does answer a great deal of the questions I had. So really, what is in a name? I am still trying to find out.
Written this 24th day of October 2009
by: Eileen Charmaine Smith Rosenberg
together. A couple of Moms brothers came to California a few times, but I was much older,
and wasn't around when they were visiting. They stayed with Uncle Bill in South Gate.
I thought it might give you some insight into some of the individuals when you look at their pictures as you never met any of them.
Uncle Daniel Luther Hall - was a potter by trade and raised prize Chickens and was a Chicken Judge at the Fairs in Ohio. The oldest of the Hall Family, he carried a pretty heavy load when
James Madison Hall deserted the family in 1902. He married and had a large family of his own.
Uncle Simon Clarence Hall - was a potter by trade but was also a business man. Had trained as
a bookkeeper and had a lovely handwritting. Back then, men were the clerks, etc. and needed to be able to write a fine hand. He owned his own market for some years and was a good butcher
as well. His wife Bertha was a large raw-boned women. She was sweet and a delight to be around. She worked in the store with Uncle Simon so they had Auth Lib come and keep house for them and care for their children while they were at the store. Made a lovely home for Aunt Lib who was the younger sister of Grandma Hall.
Eunice May Hall married Ode McKinzie. She knew the family was poor, so planned a wedding that would not make things hard for them. I didn't know Aunt Eunice well. She was so much older than Mom. We visited their home, where I learned to love the family. Aunt Eunice was a large boned lady, a great cook, and very neat house keeper.
Martha Olive Hall married Harry Ellsworth Akins. She was a small woman with very narrow feet. I know that because Mom use to have to wear her hand-me-down shoes and Mom had a
Medium width foot. She developed corns on her toes from wearing Olive's shoes. There were always a great many things the family had to do to make sure everyone had what was needed.
Olive had a hard life. Her oldest daughter died as a teen ager, and her second daughter was
crippled with Polio. They had three brothers who I am sad to say were very mean to Grace. She wore braces and was very deformed from the illness. I never met anyone who was more lovely in spirit than Grace.
William James Hall had to be about the best. He married twice and I loved both of his wives. His first Naomi was a lovely lady. She was a great cook and house keeper. She could peel a potato so the skins were almost transparent. Mom said she was so jealous of Bill that is why their marriage never lasted. I suppose not being able to have children was a great sorrow to her. She never remarried and I believe she loved Bill until the day she died. His second wife Clara moved with him to California where they worked in the Potteries. They married shortly after they arrived in California. They bought a home in South Gate, CA where she raised her "dogs" and he raised his Banty Chickens. He was a Chicken Judge and was President of the Chicken Judges Association. He was well know and liked. He made all the major Fairs in California. He became our seragate dad when ours was killed. He was always there for us kids, and we loved having him with us on Holidays. He and Mom were very close.
Oliver Edward "Dick" Hall was the handsome one of the family. Mom said he didn't have to chase the girls they wouldn't leave him alone. She wondered how his wife put up with it for so many years. I guess that is what true love is, long suffering. They had a family of boys. The only daughter they had was killed when she was small when she was struck by a car.
John Richard Hall was the last son in the family. He was a potter as well. I never knew him too well. He moved with his wife and son to California and we saw them a few times, but they did not make that many visits and I was surprised they didn't keep in touch with Mom or Uncle Bill all that much. The Son was quite a business man. In an out of one thing and then another. I don't believe that is why they called him Jack instead of John, but then what do I know?
Uncle John's wife was a frail little thing and not very out going. I thought she was very attractive, but not near as easy to get to know and love as the others.
Mom was the baby of the family and she could hardly have been known as spoiled. It was always her lot to remember not to upset their mother. The effects of that left some pretty big emotional scars on Mom. Ones I was not aware of until I became much older. She resented not having a Dad like other kids.
Lets see: Luther was 14 when their Dad left the family. Simon was 13, Eunice was 11, Olive was 10, Bill was 8, John was 3 and Mom was 9 months old. Luther and Simon became the bread winners in the family. Luther worked in the Potteries and Simon went around the farms as a day laborer. Slept in barns and was paid a small amount plus his food. Every extra pennie he had he sent home to help the family. When Grandma opened a boarding house, Eunice, Olive and Mom had to help with the household chores as well as cooking. When Grandma was out on a nursing case, they were totally in charge of keeping things going.
In my day the way parents tried to keep their children in line, they told stories about how far they walked to school in the snow. When we were kids, our parents had to do little but rehearse their lives. Mom with hers and Dad with his coming from England where things were pretty great, only to find a Step-mother who wasn't the nicest person in town and a Dad who worked hard just to keep things together. Both my parents had to go to work when they were very young. I'm not sure about Dad, but I know Mom went into the Pottery when she was 12 or 13.
I knew all these people. They were brought up with great strenghts. They were bound together in a family unit that took care of each other, but mostly kept appearances up to shore up their
Mother who had been so badly treated by the man she loved and trusted.
A heritage is pretty special, especially when we can look back and see how far we have come. I had a pretty well matched set of parents. They found each other at a time when things were just moving forward following the War to end all wars. The First World War. Things were suppose to be better, but the hard times were not yet over. It would take another War and sending their sons off to fight before their fortunes would turn out better.
When doing without was the norm and stretching what little was had to go all the way around was behind them, they were still frugal and never bought on credit. If they did not have the cash, they could wait. I don't believe we kids ever knew just how much they did for us. I know we were not demanding, because no one we knew had anything more than what we had. I had wished many a time I could have a bought dress rather than one that was home made, but it
was never a big deal. I always had plenty.
I guess what I am trying to put down here is I came from a pretty amazing family. They never gave up trying to find their Dad. They never did. It was only after 95 years that the truth of
where James Madison Hall/Eaton left that the threads of the fabric were knit back together.
I am sorry the family did not realize they were within a stones throw of him most of the time.
They were pretty sure he had changed is name, but had no idea where he was. Thank goodness for a cousin who wanted to know more about her Grand Father that she started doing Genealogy. In a wild chance, she sent a letter to every "J" Rosenberg she found in Califronia.
There were 9. Bingo she found me, and I have been able to piece together from my side what they needed for their side. We have joined into an extended family and keep in touch with each other. Ron and I made a trip for a mini reunion with most of the family in Canada. What a neat trip that turned out to be. We were offically adopted by the Eatons. Since then I have learned
that Eaton is really the family name and not Hall. Not that it changes anything, but it does answer a great deal of the questions I had. So really, what is in a name? I am still trying to find out.
Written this 24th day of October 2009
by: Eileen Charmaine Smith Rosenberg
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
School Days, School Days, Ah! How I Remember
Funny how one small thing brings to mind something you haven't thought of in years. At dear old Pacific Blvd. Elementary School we had "hall monitors". The whole idea was to make sure the kids went to class. The one picked to be a "hall monitor" had to be pretty reliable. When the Teacher singled you out, you were given the "arm band". How exciting. It was a brass cirlce with a blue bell in the center and the title around the outside edge. You put it on your right arm and strapped it down with a blue band that had a safety buckle to keep it on tight. Well if you had a blouse that had shorter sleeves, the darn thing would turn your arm green. A small price to pay, however, for being the chosen one to keep the halls cleared after the bell had rung.
I don't remember what the time such an honor was held, but I know it was a real "big thing" to be able to put that arm band on and wear it all day. I am not sure it struck fear into the hearts of any of the other kids, but it sure made the wearer pretty proud.
Of course in Elementary School we didn't change classes, so the duty was limited to the First Bell to start the day and the one that signaled the end of the Lunch Period, oh, and the Playground time too. There was one of those in the morning and again in the afternoon. From First Grade to the Sixth Grade there weren't a lot of kids who hung around longer than allowed. We did not have Kindergarten back then in the School District. Surprisingly most of the kids were pretty good at coming on time and moving when the bells sounded to commence classes again.
We didn't have a Cafeteria at the School either. No one lived close enough to go home, so it was
either a brown bag, or lunchpale. How I hated that. I have never been a sandwich eater, and I
thought the stale smell of the lunchpale was disgusting. No matter how much Mom would wash
and air it, it always seemed to smell awful!
Back in those days, they didn't have a lot of the dessert items that are common today. Mom would bake cookies, but I found the "waxed paper" wasn't a very good protecter for them. Most of the time they were reduced to crumbs from being swung around in the lunchpale. I doubt a brown bag would have been much of an improvement. Yes, back in those good old days there were no sandwich bags or plastic wrap. We had Waxed Paper, and it was good for keeping out
moisture, but stiff and not very good for keeping things in any kind or original shape.
Then there was the sad deal of a piece of Mom's pie. There was a real mess for you. A lot of licking went into finishing up lunch. Well, it tasted good, but left a lot to be desired in the visual department .
Apples were treated carefully, but still got bruised and bananas, well that was a whole other thing. An orange ment getting juice all over you. Back then there were no neat little plastic boxes to cut the fruit up and keep it contained until lunch time. Oranges and bananas had to be peeled before consuming and and apple well bite by bite it had to be eaten. The small thermose always had milk. I believe I have already told about the day I tried to take Root Beer. What a disaster that was.
There were no book bags back then either. All the books were carefully piled on a notebook and balanced while walking to and from School. Of course there was one arm for that while the other was occupied with that lunchpale. As I recall there was a great deal of shifthing, arm to hand and back again. It was quite a long walk. Everyone did it, there was no bus service, and there were no two car families. In fact there were few cars period.
Amazing we survivied. Walking in the heat before Summer and during the bad and wet weather in the winter. We were a pretty healthy lot back then. Either we were hearty or so use to the dirt and fresh air, we didn't get over taken by the germs surrounding us. Then again when I think of it, Mom fixed breakfast for us which was always wholesome and everyone sat down at the dinner table together and ate a well balanced meal. It might not have been fancy, but it was cooked well, and balanced to the best of what was known at the time. We rarely had anything but water or milk to drink. Those were the days before all the "extras" of life were around.
Well, we did have the "Good Humor" man who drove the Ice Cream truck around the neighborhood with his bells a chiming. Not everytime he came around, but once in awhile, there was enough change in the household to have a treat of an ice cream bar. They were only ten cents a piece, but with three of us kids, that was thirty cents, and there were many a week that amount of money was needed to buy a quart of milk and a loaf of bread for the family.
Were they hard times? I don't believe so. We didn't know anything else. A treat was a treat, and we all knew they were not something we got all that often. The folks were always so giving that when No was the answer, we didn't argue. Hearing Mom and Dad take council at the end of the week as how much they still had before payday, we were pretty aware of how things were.
Gosh, it is fun to remember then. I am so sorry for the children today. They may never really know how much fun can be had with so little. I know they will never appreciate their parents more than we did. As a family we were close and worked together. No dishwasher. We took turns washing or drying. Setting the table or clearing things away after the evening meal was something we just did. No TV and for sometime not even a radio. We had friends and playing in the street or over the various yards of the neighborhood was our turf.
How fortunate that we had all ages to mingle with. The older ones took care of the smaller kids and no one thought anything about it. No Little League or Pop Warner. Vacant lots were the ball fields and every age and size was included. Teams were divided off among those who were
available. Not everyone had a ball, so the lucky one was willing to share. Yes, we were lucky in a lot of ways. It just takes time to set and think back to realize that those were the best of times and imagination was used continually to make up games and fun times. I guess that is when we learned that is was not what you had but what you did with what you had that was important. We may not have had much, but we did have each other, and I am so greatful for that.
Written this 21st day of October 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
I don't remember what the time such an honor was held, but I know it was a real "big thing" to be able to put that arm band on and wear it all day. I am not sure it struck fear into the hearts of any of the other kids, but it sure made the wearer pretty proud.
Of course in Elementary School we didn't change classes, so the duty was limited to the First Bell to start the day and the one that signaled the end of the Lunch Period, oh, and the Playground time too. There was one of those in the morning and again in the afternoon. From First Grade to the Sixth Grade there weren't a lot of kids who hung around longer than allowed. We did not have Kindergarten back then in the School District. Surprisingly most of the kids were pretty good at coming on time and moving when the bells sounded to commence classes again.
We didn't have a Cafeteria at the School either. No one lived close enough to go home, so it was
either a brown bag, or lunchpale. How I hated that. I have never been a sandwich eater, and I
thought the stale smell of the lunchpale was disgusting. No matter how much Mom would wash
and air it, it always seemed to smell awful!
Back in those days, they didn't have a lot of the dessert items that are common today. Mom would bake cookies, but I found the "waxed paper" wasn't a very good protecter for them. Most of the time they were reduced to crumbs from being swung around in the lunchpale. I doubt a brown bag would have been much of an improvement. Yes, back in those good old days there were no sandwich bags or plastic wrap. We had Waxed Paper, and it was good for keeping out
moisture, but stiff and not very good for keeping things in any kind or original shape.
Then there was the sad deal of a piece of Mom's pie. There was a real mess for you. A lot of licking went into finishing up lunch. Well, it tasted good, but left a lot to be desired in the visual department .
Apples were treated carefully, but still got bruised and bananas, well that was a whole other thing. An orange ment getting juice all over you. Back then there were no neat little plastic boxes to cut the fruit up and keep it contained until lunch time. Oranges and bananas had to be peeled before consuming and and apple well bite by bite it had to be eaten. The small thermose always had milk. I believe I have already told about the day I tried to take Root Beer. What a disaster that was.
There were no book bags back then either. All the books were carefully piled on a notebook and balanced while walking to and from School. Of course there was one arm for that while the other was occupied with that lunchpale. As I recall there was a great deal of shifthing, arm to hand and back again. It was quite a long walk. Everyone did it, there was no bus service, and there were no two car families. In fact there were few cars period.
Amazing we survivied. Walking in the heat before Summer and during the bad and wet weather in the winter. We were a pretty healthy lot back then. Either we were hearty or so use to the dirt and fresh air, we didn't get over taken by the germs surrounding us. Then again when I think of it, Mom fixed breakfast for us which was always wholesome and everyone sat down at the dinner table together and ate a well balanced meal. It might not have been fancy, but it was cooked well, and balanced to the best of what was known at the time. We rarely had anything but water or milk to drink. Those were the days before all the "extras" of life were around.
Well, we did have the "Good Humor" man who drove the Ice Cream truck around the neighborhood with his bells a chiming. Not everytime he came around, but once in awhile, there was enough change in the household to have a treat of an ice cream bar. They were only ten cents a piece, but with three of us kids, that was thirty cents, and there were many a week that amount of money was needed to buy a quart of milk and a loaf of bread for the family.
Were they hard times? I don't believe so. We didn't know anything else. A treat was a treat, and we all knew they were not something we got all that often. The folks were always so giving that when No was the answer, we didn't argue. Hearing Mom and Dad take council at the end of the week as how much they still had before payday, we were pretty aware of how things were.
Gosh, it is fun to remember then. I am so sorry for the children today. They may never really know how much fun can be had with so little. I know they will never appreciate their parents more than we did. As a family we were close and worked together. No dishwasher. We took turns washing or drying. Setting the table or clearing things away after the evening meal was something we just did. No TV and for sometime not even a radio. We had friends and playing in the street or over the various yards of the neighborhood was our turf.
How fortunate that we had all ages to mingle with. The older ones took care of the smaller kids and no one thought anything about it. No Little League or Pop Warner. Vacant lots were the ball fields and every age and size was included. Teams were divided off among those who were
available. Not everyone had a ball, so the lucky one was willing to share. Yes, we were lucky in a lot of ways. It just takes time to set and think back to realize that those were the best of times and imagination was used continually to make up games and fun times. I guess that is when we learned that is was not what you had but what you did with what you had that was important. We may not have had much, but we did have each other, and I am so greatful for that.
Written this 21st day of October 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Tomorrow - October 7th - is Dad's Birthday!
By Dad - I mean - John Charles Smith, was born in England in 1898 and brought to the United States in 1900. Too young to remember the trip her and then back to England where he shows up on the 1901 British Census living with his Mother Eliza Bunn Smith and his Grand Parents John Bunn and Maria Chatting Bunn.
Some time after this listing, he was given to his Grand Mother Ellen Frost Horton Smith to raise. She brought him back to the United States in 1909. By then his Father Charles Smith had remarried Carrena Maybell Bowman McIntire Smith.
In all my research, I have never been able to find out what happened to Eliza. I was told she died, but she is not listed in any death record in England, so if she died, it was not as Eliza Bunn or Eliza Smith. If there was a divorce, I have no knowledge of that either, but know my Grand Father would not have remarried unless he was legally free to have done so.
I have written a history on my Dad so will not go further into it at this time. I just felt like a short rememberance of him when it is time for the date of his birth. 7 October 1898 - He would be 111 if his life had not been cut short in an Auto Accident in 1955.
Happy Birthday Dad - where ever you may be - I love you - Charmaine!
Some time after this listing, he was given to his Grand Mother Ellen Frost Horton Smith to raise. She brought him back to the United States in 1909. By then his Father Charles Smith had remarried Carrena Maybell Bowman McIntire Smith.
In all my research, I have never been able to find out what happened to Eliza. I was told she died, but she is not listed in any death record in England, so if she died, it was not as Eliza Bunn or Eliza Smith. If there was a divorce, I have no knowledge of that either, but know my Grand Father would not have remarried unless he was legally free to have done so.
I have written a history on my Dad so will not go further into it at this time. I just felt like a short rememberance of him when it is time for the date of his birth. 7 October 1898 - He would be 111 if his life had not been cut short in an Auto Accident in 1955.
Happy Birthday Dad - where ever you may be - I love you - Charmaine!
Grandma Hall's favorite - Chicken Wings!
I guess I had to turn 80 and be immursed in Family History before my mind began to churn on this one thought. Well, that, and the fact that Chicken Wings are pretty much a "thing" today. You can buy them in about any flovor you can think of. They are good hot or cold, and can be bought at just about any place on the globe. Then why, so many years ago, did Grandma Hall pick them out of all the rest of the Chicken as her favorite? Then there is that other question that I hadn't thought of in years. Why did my Mother always boil the chicken first then dredge it in flour and fry it? Well boys and girls I guess it takes growing up to figure out just what such perplexing questions REALLY mean!
Now, here is my take on it all. Grandma Hall was left with 5 growing boys and 3 girls to raise by herself. She ran a boarding house, which would have brought a mouth or two more in to feed every morning and evening. Taking stock of just how many pieces there are to a cut up chicken it isn't hard to figure out that the wings would be just about the only part of the bird that no one else would grab off the plate first, or last for that matter. Deduction! Grandma made her choice seem pretty special. "I like the wing the best!" Naturally her doting children would leave that
part for her, and of course the boarders would take the biggest and best for the price they were paying for their honor of being part of the "family". Then why did Mom learn to boil the chicken
first before frying? That one isn't hard either when you think about it. By boiling the chicken first they had stock for soup, or Chicken and Noodles another day. The back was pretty sparce
on meat, so that would furnish the little bit of meat for the Noodles. Mere deduction kids. I never remember having "fried chicken" in my home as a child. It is not a practice I kept when I started "housekeeping" myself. Jay liked his "fried chicken".
I guess taking time to find out just what might have been at the bottom of both of these questions I gleaned just a bit more into the wonderful women that preceeded me in this family.
A grandmother that was quick to let her children think they were doing her a favor, and a mother that carried on the frugal habit of making a chicken stretch into at least two meals. We
today don't think of such saving habits. We are so use to going to the store and buying what we need and then bringing it to the table with as much taste and look so to tease the appetite of the family that set at the table.
Grandma would have to raise the chickens in her yard, taking great pain to see they were fed properly and watered so they would grow as big and fat as possible. The choice of what kind of chicken to raise would have been concidered as well. Maybe that was why Mom always looked for Rhode Island Red Hens when she went to the Poultry Market on Pacific Blvd. in Huntington Park. No question, they were always fat, and tasty even when boiled before frying, not to mention the great chicken and noodles they produced in Mom's kitchen. It is the little things we seem to miss when we are young that stand out so when we reach old age.
Grandma always had an herb garden, and raised a great many things that were put into medicines that she used in caring for her patients when she was nursing, another way she helped keeping her family.
You know today we read and hear of all kinds of help single mothers have in keeping their families together. There were no such things back when Grandma found herself left with such a large family to care for. Oh, her children helped. The oldest boys went to work outside the home to contribute. It seems the girls found husbands early so they could leave the home to ease the burdens. When she moved to Ohio from Iowa with the family her oldest was 14 and the youngest was only 9 months old - that was Mom. Everyone had to pitch in. There was no griping or grumbling allowed. The older ones made sure the younger ones learned not to make waves or cause any extra stress for Grandma. A close knit family, they cared for each other and had such great respect for their Mother.
Well, that is the story of Grandma Hall and her favorite "chicken wings". You know I heard that when I was a kid, and to this day my favorite part of a chicken is the "wing". I never really knew my Grandma Hall. I saw her once when I was 8 years old. By then she was in her 60's and seemed to me to be a very sad lady. I asked Mom about her one day what she was like. Mom said she was fun to be with and smiled a great deal. Something I did not see her do while I was with her. It was my pleasure to submit her name to the Temple and do her Ordinance work. I am sure she is happy and smiles a lot where she is now. You know what? I bet she still takes the wing of the chicken if they have such things there.
Written this 6th day of October 2009
by: Eileen C. Rosenberg
Now, here is my take on it all. Grandma Hall was left with 5 growing boys and 3 girls to raise by herself. She ran a boarding house, which would have brought a mouth or two more in to feed every morning and evening. Taking stock of just how many pieces there are to a cut up chicken it isn't hard to figure out that the wings would be just about the only part of the bird that no one else would grab off the plate first, or last for that matter. Deduction! Grandma made her choice seem pretty special. "I like the wing the best!" Naturally her doting children would leave that
part for her, and of course the boarders would take the biggest and best for the price they were paying for their honor of being part of the "family". Then why did Mom learn to boil the chicken
first before frying? That one isn't hard either when you think about it. By boiling the chicken first they had stock for soup, or Chicken and Noodles another day. The back was pretty sparce
on meat, so that would furnish the little bit of meat for the Noodles. Mere deduction kids. I never remember having "fried chicken" in my home as a child. It is not a practice I kept when I started "housekeeping" myself. Jay liked his "fried chicken".
I guess taking time to find out just what might have been at the bottom of both of these questions I gleaned just a bit more into the wonderful women that preceeded me in this family.
A grandmother that was quick to let her children think they were doing her a favor, and a mother that carried on the frugal habit of making a chicken stretch into at least two meals. We
today don't think of such saving habits. We are so use to going to the store and buying what we need and then bringing it to the table with as much taste and look so to tease the appetite of the family that set at the table.
Grandma would have to raise the chickens in her yard, taking great pain to see they were fed properly and watered so they would grow as big and fat as possible. The choice of what kind of chicken to raise would have been concidered as well. Maybe that was why Mom always looked for Rhode Island Red Hens when she went to the Poultry Market on Pacific Blvd. in Huntington Park. No question, they were always fat, and tasty even when boiled before frying, not to mention the great chicken and noodles they produced in Mom's kitchen. It is the little things we seem to miss when we are young that stand out so when we reach old age.
Grandma always had an herb garden, and raised a great many things that were put into medicines that she used in caring for her patients when she was nursing, another way she helped keeping her family.
You know today we read and hear of all kinds of help single mothers have in keeping their families together. There were no such things back when Grandma found herself left with such a large family to care for. Oh, her children helped. The oldest boys went to work outside the home to contribute. It seems the girls found husbands early so they could leave the home to ease the burdens. When she moved to Ohio from Iowa with the family her oldest was 14 and the youngest was only 9 months old - that was Mom. Everyone had to pitch in. There was no griping or grumbling allowed. The older ones made sure the younger ones learned not to make waves or cause any extra stress for Grandma. A close knit family, they cared for each other and had such great respect for their Mother.
Well, that is the story of Grandma Hall and her favorite "chicken wings". You know I heard that when I was a kid, and to this day my favorite part of a chicken is the "wing". I never really knew my Grandma Hall. I saw her once when I was 8 years old. By then she was in her 60's and seemed to me to be a very sad lady. I asked Mom about her one day what she was like. Mom said she was fun to be with and smiled a great deal. Something I did not see her do while I was with her. It was my pleasure to submit her name to the Temple and do her Ordinance work. I am sure she is happy and smiles a lot where she is now. You know what? I bet she still takes the wing of the chicken if they have such things there.
Written this 6th day of October 2009
by: Eileen C. Rosenberg
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