The American public's first notice of me was in the 1920 census.
It is census time again (2010), as our country begins its every-ten-year count. A recent newspaper ad was publishing the need for census takers and support staff. I debated with myself as to whether or not I should apply. The "not" won out as I determined that a guy my age wouldn't have the strength to go door-to-door seeking information.
The census is a valuable government tool. Not only does it set their standards for government regulations and appropriations, it is a must for seeking information on family roots. Finding some facts, previously unknown, made me want to seek more data.
When Dear Wife and I first visited Ireland, in 1988, I determined to search the roots of the Madden family. We visited the church in Balinasloe, County Galway, where my great-grandparents, John and Elizabeth (Connor) were married - what a thrill! We were put in touch with a local "personality," Matty Glaney by name, but Matty couldn't offer much help. "Too many Maddens here, both dead and live," he said.
John and Elizabeth came to America in the 1860s where my grandmother Mary was born. The question I seek to answer is just where that took place. So far, not much luck, but I will continue to search.
So, dear readers, respond to the census-taker when he or she shows in your area. You certainly will want to be a "vital statistic" in the land of the free.
More, later.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
WOODMAN, WOODMAN, SPARE THAT TREE
A familiar line? I think it continues with "chop not a single bough."
What brings this to mind is the birthday of our first president, George Washington and the myth of his chopping down a cherry tree and confessing to the same.
When I was a youngster, the birthdays of presidents Abraham Lincoln and Washington were school holidays. Preceding each holiday there was a school play depicting each president's life. For President Lincoln, it was usually about his honesty as a storekeeper. For President Washington it was the tree myth or the Crossing of the Delaware. I'm not sure how school children today observe these days, or if they do so at all. The merger of the two dates now as one federal holiday seems to diminish interest in the history.
At home, Mother always had a cherry pie for dinner dessert and we each received a gift of a tube-shaped cardboard axe filled with cherry candies. It was a small gift, but it was always received with delight.
Another event that always took place in our neighborhood on February 22nd (it had nothing to do with President George), was in the home of my friend Joe. His family dismantled their CHRISTMAS TREE! Why they had it in that place for so long, I don't know (neither did Joe), and I'm sure it wasn't because they were a Polish family. However, it's a secret that will be locked away forever!
More, later.
What brings this to mind is the birthday of our first president, George Washington and the myth of his chopping down a cherry tree and confessing to the same.
When I was a youngster, the birthdays of presidents Abraham Lincoln and Washington were school holidays. Preceding each holiday there was a school play depicting each president's life. For President Lincoln, it was usually about his honesty as a storekeeper. For President Washington it was the tree myth or the Crossing of the Delaware. I'm not sure how school children today observe these days, or if they do so at all. The merger of the two dates now as one federal holiday seems to diminish interest in the history.
At home, Mother always had a cherry pie for dinner dessert and we each received a gift of a tube-shaped cardboard axe filled with cherry candies. It was a small gift, but it was always received with delight.
Another event that always took place in our neighborhood on February 22nd (it had nothing to do with President George), was in the home of my friend Joe. His family dismantled their CHRISTMAS TREE! Why they had it in that place for so long, I don't know (neither did Joe), and I'm sure it wasn't because they were a Polish family. However, it's a secret that will be locked away forever!
More, later.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
BE MY VALENTINE
February 14th is a magic day for many people, a "day of the heart," you might say.
The day, in memory of a Christian martyr, originated with Pope Gelasius I, in 496A.D.. It became associated with romantic love during the High Middle Ages, when courtly love flourished. It reached new heights of popularity in Great Britain during the 19th century. In 1847, Esther Howland, of Worcester, Massachusetts, developed a successful business with hand-made valentine cards based on the British model.
When I was a school-aged youngster, giving valentines to classmates was an exciting event. The unsigned comic valentines were not about love (heaven forbid!), but humorous renditions pointing out idiosyncrasies, with emphasis on the physical, eg; Looking too pudgy? Lose that fat! A readhead? Shave your head! Freckles? Hide them with shoe whitener! The valentines were on an 8 x 11 sheet of paper and cost a penny each. What a deal! Most of the recipients enjoyed the fun, but there was an occasional hurt shown (mostly by girls).
The U.S. Greeting Card Association estimates that approximately ONE BILLION valentines are sent worldwide each year, the second largest card-sending holiday of the year, after Christmas.
So, dear readers, there is no excuse for not sending valentine greetings just because you are traveling, for they can be found in most countries of the world.
More, later.
The day, in memory of a Christian martyr, originated with Pope Gelasius I, in 496A.D.. It became associated with romantic love during the High Middle Ages, when courtly love flourished. It reached new heights of popularity in Great Britain during the 19th century. In 1847, Esther Howland, of Worcester, Massachusetts, developed a successful business with hand-made valentine cards based on the British model.
When I was a school-aged youngster, giving valentines to classmates was an exciting event. The unsigned comic valentines were not about love (heaven forbid!), but humorous renditions pointing out idiosyncrasies, with emphasis on the physical, eg; Looking too pudgy? Lose that fat! A readhead? Shave your head! Freckles? Hide them with shoe whitener! The valentines were on an 8 x 11 sheet of paper and cost a penny each. What a deal! Most of the recipients enjoyed the fun, but there was an occasional hurt shown (mostly by girls).
The U.S. Greeting Card Association estimates that approximately ONE BILLION valentines are sent worldwide each year, the second largest card-sending holiday of the year, after Christmas.
So, dear readers, there is no excuse for not sending valentine greetings just because you are traveling, for they can be found in most countries of the world.
More, later.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
GONE FISHING
A recent picture in our newspaper shows a solitary fisherman ice fishing. That triggered my memory bank once again.
Fishing has been a favorite sport of mine, beginning with my teenage years, and I have my Uncle Charles to thank for introducing it to me.
Uncle Charles was a childless widower when he met my mother's sister Sarah. They eventually married but were childless. As I reflect on our warm relationship, I think he may have considered me the grandson he never had. Until he died we enjoyed each other to the fullest.
Uncle's outdoor passion was fishing and he was good, real good at catching fish when others around him went home with empty buckets. It made no difference the time of year, or of the day's weather, he was ready to cast out and "reel one in!"
Some of our best times were winter fishing. What, you say, winter fishing in New Jersey? Yep. Not far from our homes was a series of lakes that did not freeze over, and they were our targets. I can still recall standing with him and casting our lines for a HUGH pickerel (he always thought BIG when it came to fish) ! He was so patient while teaching me the art, and so happy when I reeled one in.
Nothing beats sitting in a quiet fishing spot and allowing the rest of the world to go on its hectic, messy way.
More, later.
Fishing has been a favorite sport of mine, beginning with my teenage years, and I have my Uncle Charles to thank for introducing it to me.
Uncle Charles was a childless widower when he met my mother's sister Sarah. They eventually married but were childless. As I reflect on our warm relationship, I think he may have considered me the grandson he never had. Until he died we enjoyed each other to the fullest.
Uncle's outdoor passion was fishing and he was good, real good at catching fish when others around him went home with empty buckets. It made no difference the time of year, or of the day's weather, he was ready to cast out and "reel one in!"
Some of our best times were winter fishing. What, you say, winter fishing in New Jersey? Yep. Not far from our homes was a series of lakes that did not freeze over, and they were our targets. I can still recall standing with him and casting our lines for a HUGH pickerel (he always thought BIG when it came to fish) ! He was so patient while teaching me the art, and so happy when I reeled one in.
Nothing beats sitting in a quiet fishing spot and allowing the rest of the world to go on its hectic, messy way.
More, later.
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