Forebear Friday – John Q. Adams

John Quincy Adams had a successful and adventurous life, but then, his family had already established a culture of adventure.  His great- grandfather was a founder of St. Johnsbury, Vermont, he and wife Submit being the first settlers.  John’s grandfather, Martin Adams with his brother, were among the founders of Newport (then Duncansborough), Vermont, and Martin was a Revolutionary War patriot.
John Q., the son of Abial Adams and Irene Gray, was born 12 Jul 1831 in Newport, Vermont, the sixth of sixteen children.  At the age of 16, he moved himself to Burlington, Vermont, to attend college, supporting himself and paying tuition by teaching school.  He did this for two years, and then returned to the house of his father.  The following year, in 1851, he made his way to Stephenson County, Illinois, and decided to try his luck in the California Gold Rush, heading west in 1853.  He spent five years there, after which he returned to Stephenson county with $1,000 and purchased a 240 acre farm in Florence township.  He married Julia Van Brocklin, daughter of Florence township pioneers Conrad and Harriet Van Brocklin.   About 1900, he was engaged as a store keeper,  but otherwise farmed and worked as a carpenter. 
He sold his farm in 1901, and relocated to Sutherland, O’Brien County, Iowa.  His wife died in 1905, and he in 1907.  They were both buried at Waterman Cemetery, just outside of Sutherland.

Adventures in Gardena

While transcribing old letters written by my great-grandparents, Peter C. and Ella Christensen, I came across the following story, related by Pete to their daughter Lillian in a letter dated Dec. 20, 1946.  Pete and Ella had just moved to Gardena, California from Huron, South Dakota, where their daughter and her family still lived.

“I suppose Mother told you about our bad luck with the car, but I know she really didn’t know how it happened so I’ll tell you, ha ha.  We went out to Silver Lake, that is where my sister Katrine is living.  We stayed there all night as we didn’t have our gas and electricity turned on.    So in the morning we went out to our car, it was parked on a hillside, almost a mountain.  The brake alone would stop it from going down hill so I left it in low gear.  You know it was foggy in the evening so the windshield was clouded over.  I got a rag and started to clean it off.  Mother climbed in the car.  And first thing I knew the car started down hill, very slowly at first.  She tried to get out but was afraid to let go of the car.  There she was half out and half in, and I had to pull hard on her to make her let go.  It’s a wonder she did not get hurt.  You know when she got in the car she pushed the lever with her legs and got it out of gear.  Next time I’m going to leave it in reverse.  The car went across the street and dropped about 10 ft then over another garage and a drop almost straight down of about 20 ft and landed up against a house.  It made a big dent in the wall of the house.  I’m glad it was not a brick wall.  The car never even turned over.  A Ford can really take it.  Estimated damage to car $180.00 The man who owns the house claims damage to house and lot $3000.  A darn good thing I had insurance, don’t you think?  It cost $25 to get the car hoisted up to the street again with a crane and 2 trucks.  I was able to run the car after it was pulled up.  It had one crumpled fender, two damaged running boards, 3 broken windows, broken grill and bent bumper.  I’m sure it could never do that again, and be able to run.”

He went on to describe “city driving”:

“You should try to drive a car in San Diego or Los Angeles.  They pass you on both sides and if you have to make a right or left turn, and aren’t in the right place it’s just too bad.  They are smashing cars every day.  I don’t want a new car for awhile. “

Forebear Friday - John Henry Seemann

John Henry Seemann was born in 1800 in Schleswig-Holstein, Germany, the son of Hans Seemann and Christina Petersen Moldt.  He married Maria, and they were the parents of 8 children. 
In 1853, sons Hans and Detlef left Germany for the United States, in particular, eastern Iowa.  The following year, John and Mary boarded with Germania, traveling from Bremen to New York, with sons Johan and Henry.  Most, if not all, of their children ended up coming to Iowa.  John and Maria purchased land in Jackson county, Iowa later that year, but by 1856 had moved in with their son Hans in Clinton county, just to the south.  By 1870, they were back in Jackson county, this time with their son Henry and his family. 
John died on 09 April 1873, and Maria went back to Clinton county to son Hans’ home; however, in 1884, Hans’ family sold the farm and moved to South Dakota, and Maria apparently went back to Jackson County, where she died on 26 Sep 1889.
On a trip to this area a few years back, we decided to visit Evergreen cemetery in Jackson County.  It’s a beautiful cemetery located next to the backwaters of the Mississippi River, and true to its name, lots of fragrant evergreens dot the landscape.  We located the graves of John and Maria, in a family section which included the graves of their son Henry, Henry’s wife Catharina; their daughter Mary Blossfeld and her husband William and daughter Lotta.  In another part of the cemetery, John and Maria’s son Peter is buried.

Mountain View Cemetery, Part Two

Again, many thanks to my dad and stepmother for sharing these wonderful photos of this cemetery near Casa Grande, Arizona.

A grassier section ~



A few more graves ~



The very simple, but touching marker of Rena

 

Forebear Friday – Abel Parlin Adams

‘ Abel Adams and his wife, Eliza Hudson

Abel Parlin Adams was the son of Abial and Irena (Gray) Adams, born in Vermont.  He left his home in Orleans county, and headed for Massachusetts, there marrying Eliza Hudson, a native of Canada, in 1853 in Lowell, Middlesex county. 
Two daughters, Nettie and Jennie, were born about 1857, and in 1859.  During these years, Abel worked as a pattern maker, first in Lowell, and later in Fitchburg (Worcester county).  He served during the Civil War, spending 4 months and 8 days in Company A, 7th Regiment of the Massachusetts Light Artillery.
He and his family settled in Springfield, Massachusetts, between 1870 and 1880, and after his wife died in 1901, he moved in with his youngest daughter Jennie and her husband, Charles Martensen.  There he lived for the next twenty years.
There is a death certificate for Abel in his hometown of Newport, Vermont; I have no doubt that this is his death.  However, it states his “usual residence” is in Newport, which is somewhat confusing.  He died August 4, 1920, in Newport.  But in January of 1920, when the census was taken, he was still living with his daughter Jennie in Springfield, at the age of 87 years.  Did he moved back to Newport?  If so, why?  And with whom did he live?  His oldest daughter was in Chicago, so it wasn’t her.  Was he visiting there when he died?  Was the “usual residence” an error on the part of the city clerk?
Abel was buried with his wife in Oak Grove cemetery in Springfield.

Mountain View Cemetery

Recently my father and stepmother decided to pay a visit to Mountain View Cemetery, near Casa Grande, Arizona.  They have shared photos they took of a few of the incredible memorials they found there.  I was awestruck by how personalized some of these burial sites are, and how strikingly different they are from the cemeteries I’ve visited.  I would love to see this cemetery personally.




Above: An overview of one section of the cemetery – the mounds are interesting, and quite a contrast to another section, below:

And still another section:

In looking at the cemetery photos, the incredible personalization of the burial sites was very touching.

More photos of some of the other unique graves to come ~

And we lived to tell about it...

I was just transcribing one of my great-grandmother’s diaries, telling of their trip to the Oahe Dam in South Dakota.  The year was 1956; they all piled into my Uncle Ray’s station wagon: Grandma and Grandpa, their two daughters and sons-in-law, and 6 kids on a mattress in the back of the wagon.

Reading this, I could almost feel my brother’s elbows in my ribs, and getting squashed by a gaggle of cousins on any of the road trips we took under similar conditions.  Sometimes there were so many kids piled in the backseat that we really weren’t sure whose foot that was...  and to make things even more exciting, there were oftentimes a dog or two in the mix.

Sometimes we’d pile into the back of my dad’s yellow pickup truck for a ride; I can still feel the wind whipping my hair around violently like it was just yesterday.  It was so exhilarating...

Awhile back in our local paper, there was an article about winter safety, and they mentioned that pulling sleds with vehicles wasn’t safe.  Even with a long rope, out in the middle of a field?  No!!  I felt a pain through my very heart!  Again, another portion of my beloved childhood memories were relegated to the Hall of Shame.

I’m not saying any of this is good, or bad, just that it’s different.  Times change.  The world changes.  Are we better off?  I don’t know.  Did the parents of the 1950s look back at past generations and think them nonchalant where safety was concerned?  I wonder.  I know only one thing ... that I won’t be telling my grandchildren about the time we ... never mind.


Image courtesy of office.com