I Need a Melatonin

 

Uncle Peg’s Chronicles

November 10, 2022

“I Need a Melatonin”

Number of pages in Outline Descendant Report: 127 (up from 126 last chronicle)

Number of pages in basic Descendant Report: 196 (up from 190 last chronicle)

 

Francis Holmes is # 1. I am now # 294. # 294, where I was last week, is still me.

Matthew Williams, Jane William’s grandson, is last at # 417, up from # 415, and his son is # ii.

#415 is now Angela Dawn Wellman.

This should change weekly, if I’m doing my job.

I am still doing my job, but mostly it’s revision and ancestral so there are fewer changes.

 

Friday night, late, upon my pillow. “Mary did you know” how many of these Ballantynes died of heart disease? Even the one who died “on the way to Bethlehem” Seattle on the train was assumed to have a heart attack, and he was a relatively young man. I wonder if Winston will like his Christmas books. Shopping rather wears me out now. I was rather excited to see that we are singing “Mary Did You Know,” even though I know one person will groan about that. I was excited because here was a song I know. Wrong. I have to unlearn the notes I’ve hummed along to for several years. How am I ever going to sing the ooos in the Shepherd’s Hornpipe? No that’s not the name of “Shepherd’s Pipe Carol,” but I call it a hornpipe. It’s so discordant and I do like that, but oh, those sharps and flats and trills. What other sources do I have to look at to compare to the details on the outline descendant report for Louisa and Robert? I’m so glad I found the Little Black Book; I had forgotten about that. How much time do I have for research before I go to practice in the morning? Oh my, but the church is going to look so lovely at the candlelight service, with a row of bells – large on the left and small on the right, from my loft perspective, with the candles reflecting on them. In front of us will be drums and guitars and amplifiers and whatnot. Where will our flautist stand? This hornpipe will be the death of me. Will we wear our gold robes or do I need to buy something to wear? I think I will take a before and after picture of my report, to show them how much I have to work on when I thought I was almost through. It’s always like that. I think I need a melatonin.

 Saturday night, late upon my pillow, was just as crazy, another melatonin night. But, enough of that.

~

Lest We Forget

Above is my grandfather, Floyd Orren Holmes, son of Charles and Phoebe (McMonagle) Holmes, and grandson of Daniel and Charlotte (Hoyt) Holmes. He is with his wife, Minnie (Colpitts) Holmes. He entered the war in 1918, shortly after they married. This is not their wedding photo. I trust this week you are remembering your ancestors who served in any war – at any time or place.

~

It wasn’t too long ago that I wrote about Jean Weatherbee and her husband, Gene Campbell. I finished revisiting and revising the descendants of Robert R and Sarah Louise Holmes Ballantyne – just working on getting it into tiptop book shape so I can send it off to my editors and beta readers, and took a peek at the descendants of William N and Anna C Heath Holmes. Up popped Jean and Gene again. In general, I only add the in-law’s parents and go no further back. I started looking for Gene’s parents. Nailed his mother – Bertha Deaton. Had his father as Harry Campbell 1891 – 1924. I was verifying that, and up came Clark E Campbell 1881 – 1944 as Bertha’s husband and Gene’s father. Same siblings for Gene: something wrong with this picture. Turns out that Bertha married twice, both times to a Campbell, and I see no relation between the two. (Sometimes, after a spouse died, the widow(er) married a sibling of their spouse.) Harry, the first Campbell, was actually the father of Gene, aka Eugene Thomas Campbell. That took a bit of time.

~

I am also going back to those three generations of Robert and Sarah’s descendants and deleting some sources. As I work on the Family Tree Maker “book,” I learn more every time I open it. I can add sources and it’s all done for me. There are so many sources. For instance, I might find three or four sources for a marriage (or birth, or death). So, I am looking at the sources and keeping only the best one or two and deleting the rest. That takes time and a good eye. I learn my lessons. Whenever I add a new person now, I know exactly what I want, not just willy-nilly facts.

~

Thursday afternoon, the 10^th, I look forward to an American Ancestors’ course, “Migrations: From New England To and Through New York.” We are encouraged to send in a question. I sent one, but I forget what it is. I think it had to do with the burning of Bedford records, and what to do about it now.

~

All week, on my own Facebook, I posted a paragraph from a high school essay Mum wrote in the fall of 1939, which she called “The First Month of the War.” The paragraphs were short. Someone said I was lucky to have it. You betcha. I found it in the trash, which she didn’t sort because, at the time, they don’t sort in apartments, even though the rest of us have to. Amidst the vegetable peels and used tissues, there was her essay. I learned some things from it.

 Genealogists love to unearth things – other people’s trash is often our treasure. Some of like to share things. When I put things out there, I realize that they might be shared, and I’m fine with that. If I don’t want something shared, I don’t put it on social media. Sometimes, I thank the person who shared in a personal message. What I really wish people would do is share and not copy and paste, although I don’t get all het up about it if they do c and p. If it is shared, the original poster can both get the credit, and the recipient can contact the original poster for more information. It’s one of the ways to find a “cousin.” What is most important, though, is that the information doesn’t get lost or trashed. I was surprised this week to see the “two old letters” shared via c and p.

~

One thing I haven’t done this week is to chronicle something everyday. I am so caught up in my genealogy and the decisions I am making and changing and changing and changing the “book.” I say “book” because that is what the program calls it. I find it will be easier to make four books and then amalgamate them: Daniel and Charlotte; Robert and Louisa; William and Anna; and Alfred and Carrie. As each day goes by, I simplify the book more and more.

I have done what I can on ancestry for Robert and Sarah. I have reviewed my binders, sources, letters, etc. I can almost say I am done except for my initial blurb. I came upon something interesting: a newspaper article that Paula found in the San Diego Union, dated 9/16/1982. It won’t go into the notes of the book, but it did trigger a memory. I wonder if Mr. D got the help he needed, and if he persevered. I have not included his name, but he is in the Robert and Louisa line. The reason for that is that I believe his widow is still living.

“Alcoholic Cures. SACRAMENTO – Alcoholics who quit their jobs in search of a cure are entitled to unemployment benefits, a state board said yesterday.

The Unemployment Appeals Board issued this precedent-setting ruling in the case of [Mr. D], 50, who quit his job of nine years as a grocery clerk for Albertson’s food Center in Ventura and moved to Portland, Maine.

D, the board said, took his doctor’s advice for a ‘change of environment’ to stop his drinking and save his marriage, the board said.

‘Under the circumstances of this case, we cannot say that the claimant acted unreasonably, and concluded he had good cause to voluntarily quit his most recent employment,’ the board ruled.”

Koodos to Mr. D. He has my respect. What memory did that trigger?

I worked for Mr. L, who was the manager of my bank branch and who was also an alcoholic. We (the staff) watched, as time went by, as he struggled to serve as our leader. Mr. L was by far my favourite manager. Even after all that happened, he still has my respect. Even though sometimes he had obviously been nipping before we arrived in the morning. Even though he drove an old beater of a car and wore bedraggled looking suits, one of which had a hole in it. Even though we knew he kept his wife waiting before picking her up at her place of employment, because they couldn’t afford a second car. Even though he was surprised when told that we all knew, and was surprised at how much we still cared for and respected him.

One day, a client of the bank dropped a small sample pack of Viagra on the floor, and we tellers found it. Had a laugh, and then I took it in to Mr. L, who also laughed, and stuck it in his drawer, just in case said unknown client came looking for it. Mr. L said to me, “I wonder what they will think when they come in to clean out my drawers.” My chuckles immediately turned to foreboding, as I knew what he meant. And come in they did; they took him out to lunch and he never came back. Well, he probably did, for the cleaning out of the drawers, but after all of us had left for the day.

Part of his severance package included a month’s stay at the local rehab center, which was not mandatory but highly recommended, both by his higher-ups and his wife. I was told that she agreed to stay with him as long as he sought help and gave up alcohol for good. She loved him, and he loved her. It was obvious. He did his stint at the rehab center. Whilst there, he wrote a letter to be read at a meeting, and in that letter, he said the four words that we knew, but he needed to say: “I am an alcoholic.”

He and his wife moved to western Canada. They both got good jobs, and he corresponded with a couple of my coworkers for years afterward. Last I heard, he was still clean.

And that is why Mr. D’s brief story resonates with me. He did what he felt he had to do: appealed his case, left his job, and moved far away. He fought for himself and won for alcoholics who decide to help themselves, at least in California. I hope his story ended well, for it was a difficult thing to do. I know: not from personal experience; but from watching a friend sink, hit rock bottom, and climb back up.

~

Tomorrow is Remembrance Day in Canada; Veterans Day in the USA. I remember, and think of those who now serve. To me, it is unthinkable that there is another war going on. Soldiers and civilians are serving, being injured, and dying in Ukraine and Russia in what seems to me to be an unjust, unnecessary war.

“For the Fallen”

By Robert Laurence Binyon

“They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old:

Age shall not worry them, nor the years condemn.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning

We will remember them.”