Katherine

Back around 2019-20 while on Facebook doing some searching I came across a name I had not heard of in years, Katherine Davis. My late father had a cousin from the western part of Maine by that name, she was the neice of my grandmother Helen Seiders Small and daughter of Adeline Seiders Sawyer, and cousin of my father Joseph. When I checked out this Katherines FB page I discovered I had hit paydirt. Her profile photo showed a very close resemblance to my Grandmother!

I sent her a message and we started communicating and she supplied me with a lot of information on our family including photos of my Grandparents and my father. This past March 12th there was a post on Katherine’s FB page, she had passed away that morning. I found her Granddaughter Lauren’s FB page and sent her a message about my relation to her and how I ran across her “Mema’s” page. Lauren said her Mom mentioned how she had met me and how much she enjoyed our conversations about family. At one time I had mentioned my father telling me how their grandfather made sauerkraut on a regular basis. Katherine then forwarded the follow not to me:

11/27/2020 Notes from Katherine Davis RE Family HX

(Note: Richard mentioned in first line was my Father’s brother who died from injuries sustained in the wood stove accident. He is who I’m named for.)

“Ok...let's see...Joe's brother, Richard, was burned when his pj's caught fire.  He was trying to add kindling to the stove at my Mother's camp on Forest Lake.  I don't remember his age but pretty young.  My brother was named for this little boy, I believe.  My mother, Adeline, was born in the Robbins house in Union, now the Union Historical Society.  My Grandfather, Conrad, and my father made sauerkraut every Fall. It was kept in a large crock in the "cold cellar" of Grampa's cellar.  This took the place of a refrigerator.  When we visited on Sunday we would go down and fill a large glass jar to take home.  I got the last forkfull from the crock each time...I loved it.  We had it every Saturday night with beans and hotdogs all Winter.            Mary Alice Robbins..b. 1872.  d. 1963...daughter of Jason Robbins(son of Jason and Lucy) and Laura Messer.  My mother was born in 1899. d. 1989.  I have no info on Conrad other than what you have but sauerkraut is definitely in your blood.  Good luck finding the information you seek.  K”

Once again I’m back on the search for family history.

R.I.P. Katherine.

On and On It Goes

Bring on another round of digging and documenting. The reason I write this is because I like to try and stress the importance of keeping family records and starting to trace your roots. In today’s society, one that is so dependent on instant gratification, very few young people find the time to do any genealogy work other than surfing the net and taking for granted what’s online is fact. For years handwritten notes have been the norm, traveling afar, knocking on doors, visiting cemeteries, talking with strangers who are relatives in fact, copying old delicate photographs and documents. These are all part of the journey. If more do not partake in this trip, less will be known for future generations to rely on. I ask all that read this to consider starting on this great adventure, it is not boring…believe me! Do it for your family, do it now.

The Fun of Genealogy

I love it how when you are just nosing around and come across answers that you thought were not there. Looking for information on my great grandfather, Conrad A. Seiders, I was sloshing thru some sites and lo and behold. There he was, Conrad Arvidson Seiders. He was born in January of 1876, the son of Fredrick A Seiders and his wife Sarah Jane (Linscott of Palermo). Fredrick b. 1848, was the son of Henry (son of Jacob and Mary [Given] Seiders) and Mary (Whiting Starrett of Warren) Seiders………and yet there is much more to find. Some darn interesting, and fun!

WW II and Family Roots

Original May 9^th, 2011

WWII has been a point of interest for me in doing research and general studying. Dad was in the Army in WWII, participating in the D-Day invasion. Moving thru France, involved in the battles for Brest, with a story of hanging a flare off the Arc de Triomphe in Paris during a possible alcohol infused celebration. Stories of finding a wine cellar in a bombed out church and wrapping three vintage bottles in a sleeping bag for protection for a long Jeep trip thru bomb craters in the road, while forgetting that he also had his ‘tommy gun’ wrapped in the same sleeping bag. He claimed to have the sweetest smelling sleeping bag in WWII, after picking all the glass out of it. There were lots of such tales, and then there was the others; going onto Omaha off the landing craft and his first sight was half a soldier’s body, running to get cover and away from the sight and coming on to the other half of the body. Walking along with Gen Omar Bradley into concentration camps, dad was assigned to photograph the events; the stories of the sights were things nightmares are made of.

When I was 8 or 9 years old, my dad took me out into the workshop, his hideaway where he did electronic wizardry, taking a old metal box down from a high shelve he had me se\it beside him and he showed me pictures of the concentration camps he snuck home. I can still see those images after almost 50 years. A couple of years later, I asked Dad if I could look thru the images again..he handed them to me, but first told me some were destroyed in a leak the roof had developed. Well, it was the only thing affected and the only images destroyed were of the concentration camps. Ironic?

I also learned the day dad passed away that when he came home from Europe, my Grandfather, Joe Sr., went to the train station in Bangor, brought Dad home to their home on Bayview here in Ellsworth. Dad went right upstairs and never ventured down the stairs for a year and a half.

I now realized how that “leak” happened.

And there was my Uncle; Richard Linscott who I found out just before he passed, was a radio operator on a B-17 Flying Fortress...another story!

These are parts of our lives and those of our relatives that make each genealogy journey a great adventure and feed the hunger of those of us that want to discover how our families dealt with adversities. This is what makes this hobby so great.

 

Starting over: Becoming a Grandfather

Original posted 7/8/2011. I am now rejuvenating my 'roots' blog and am in hopes this stays afloat a tad longer than the past one! LOL

Being a grandfather….wow…..its going to happen this year. Am I happy? You betcha!

What’s all this got to do with genealogy? Well lots of course. See, with out Grandfathers we would not be here, would we!? In the past twenty-four hours my head has been spinning and lots of thoughts bouncing around upstairs. Being involved in genealogy we ask tons of questions to fill in all those blank branches of the trees we grow. Now another branch will be added to our family tree.

Taking all this into consideration I sat back and thought about my grandfathers and the one great grandfather I remembered, which lead to thinking of how my father, Joseph W. Small Jr. (Born: September 3, 1928 Died: January 7th, 1997) handled being a grandfather and also about my father in law R. Vernon Bickford (Born June 22, 1926) and how he continues being a great role model as both a grandfather and great grandfather.

My great grandfather on my dad’s side was Conrad Arvidson Seiders. I am still searching his past. I do know he was born in 1876 and died in 1960. My only memories of him was at a very young age I went with Mom and Dad to Portland to visit him in a nursing home. I was about 4 years of age. We took him for a ride around the Portland/Westbrook area so he could reminisce about his past. I knew little about him and he died shortly after our visit. So Conrad is on my Family Tree Radar!

I then think of Conrad’s son in law, my Grandfather Joseph W. Small Sr., born June 6th, 1899 in the Portland area. He died in Ellsworth on September 1st, 1984. “Grampy Joe” was a wiry man, wire-rimmed glasses with a neatly trimmed moustache. He was an outdoorsman who enjoyed fishing. From streams to the larger lakes of Maine, he fished them with passion. He also enjoyed the hunting that Maine had to offer as well. I remember him telling of walking down the driveway of his house in Union, crossing the small field on the other side and standing there within sight of his home and catching large brown trout. Grampy Joe worked the railroad from Bangor to Quebec. The mail car was his job. I noticed that he had a severe bend in his knee area and his fingers on his right hand were bent at an odd angle. The knee problem arose form hours of bracing himself against a bench for hours as the train car rocked back and forth, the fingers bent from sorting and throwing mail into bags and parcel slots on the walls. His love of the outdoors carried on to the gardens he and Gram had in Union, he also loved his Siamese cats that they always had. When Gram and Gramps health declined they moved to Ellsworth. Gram went into Courtland living center because of her severe osteoporosis. Gramp went to live with my parents with whom he lived until his passing in 1984. For a very short time he got to enjoy his Great Grand daughter Kayla who was born in August 1983. When she visited him you could see the love in his eyes, a look I will never forget.

Then there was my Grandfather on my mom’s side; Lyman Linscott born May 19th, 1905 and died July 1st, 1980. “Gugga” and my grandmother Phyllis divorced either before I was born of shortly after (yet another search!) I remember Gugga as a shot in stature man. A hardworking man whom I remembered working at Jordan’s Funeral home. He was a stonecutter working on gravestones and monuments. In his later years he cleaned stones freelance. Earlier in life he also worked for the railroad as a yard worker in Hancock working on the roundtable station. He also was a great outdoors man, I fondly remember him taking me to brook fish for trout out to Red Bridge here in Ellsworth, fishing from the shore down to Fox Pond in the Black Woods.

 He was lucky to be able to buy a large wooden boat with a motor and I remember a couple of trips down to Tunk. We shared some great times. In the 1970s I went to work for Jordan’s Funeral Home as well. Gugga would visit the crew while we played cribbage in the stone shed during the winter months…waiting for people to “pass”. Gugga was a passionate cribbage player and when I made a mistake whilst in the middle of a bruising 4-handed game, he would tune me up with a work glove..or two. Gugga came for a large family and loved them all.

Now whats all this leading too? Well each branch of our family has his or her own unique story which makes Family history such a great area to be involved in. And Grandfathers (and Grandmothers of course!) make the roots of our trees very strong.

I am in hopes that when the future granddaughter I now know I will be enjoying for years to come, looks back and sees some of the strong roots her Grandfather and Grandmother set down for her to grow on. Thank you Kayla and Mac…thank you, and I am waiting to meet you Claire!