Gone Too Soon

***This post was transferred from the Finding Horace blog.***

Originally published on Finding Horace 26 Feb. 2023.

My grandfather was Matteo (Martin) Francisco Palermo.  Everyone called him Mike. At the young, young age of 38, Grandpa Martin succumbed to…something.  My grandmother claimed he died because the nurse left the window of his room open after a surgery.  My mother suspects he died from mesothelioma because he worked in the naval stockyards.  I believe his death certificate cites pneumonia. My dad doesn’t have anything to say concerning it because Grandpa Martin actually died the February before my dad was born.  Grandpa left behind 1 daughter from his first marriage, Dolores, and 2 children (my aunt, 3, and dad, unborn) from his second marriage. 

Honestly, I grew up thinking my step grandfather, Ralph, was my actual grandfather. I don’t remember when I found out about Grandpa Martin, but I do know that when I did, no one mentioned he had an additional child from a previous marriage.  I would eventually find her children through the magic of Ancestry.  By then, she was long dead, so I couldn’t ask her anything about what Grandpa Martin had been like.  The lovely photo included in this post is her with Grandpa Martin, and he certainly looks like a doting father.  

I’m not sure where I’m trying to go with this except that, at 38, he should have had the best years of his life ahead of him.  He should have been there to laugh with my grandmother over the antics of the children. Maybe they would even have added another child or two to the mix. He should have lived to see those children grow up and get married. His beautiful smile would have stolen the show at any momentous occasion. He should have lived to share his jokes with his beloved brothers and sisters-in-law in their various homes in New York.  (It is worth noting that he is buried next to my great grandparents - his in-laws; they wanted it that way.) He should have been able to spend his waning years with his beautiful wife by his side and his grandchildren at his knee.  He would eventually have 7 of them, 6 girls and one boy.

He missed out on his son and all 7 of his grandchildren. From what I have been told, we missed out, too.

Martin Palermo - Gone Too Soon

August 25, 1910 - February 9, 1949

Family Gatherings

***This post was transferred from the Finding Horace blog.***

Originally published on Finding Horace 7 Jul. 2024.

As far as I am aware, we have never had any family reunions on either side of my family.  We get together primarily for wedding and funerals (sad, but true - it is the same for many other families).  Below is a picture of the most recent family gathering on my dad's side, my cousin's wedding.  In the photo are his wife, sons, mom, sisters, and nieces and nephews, but it also includes his aunts, uncles, and cousins from both sides of his family.  Ever the genealogist, I made sure to get one that was just the first cousins, too.  😇

While there have never been any official reunions, for many years a friend of my mom's side of the family hosted an annual Glögg party.  Glögg is a type of mulled wine that originated in the Nordic countries around 3000 years ago. It eventually became associated with Christmas, but it was also a popular drink for any kind of social gathering.  Chuck and Ozzie (Arlene) Walley were friends with my grandmother, Marilyn (Swanson) Pearson.  Consequently, their parties were attended by Pearsons and Swansons alike.  These holiday parties continued well into my late teens, and I remember the annual argument about how long the drink should burn.  (Traditional glögg is set on fire in order to completely dissolve the sugar granules, but you don't want to burn off all the alcohol!)  Chuck and Ozzie threw a heck of a party, and I have many memories of the warmth and scent of them.  Maybe some of the attendees weren't blood relatives, but they were family anyway.

Cousins

***This post was transferred from the Finding Horace blog.***

Originally published on Finding Horace 22 Dec. 2023.

Believe it or not, I am quite at a loss for what to write for this post.  I considered writing about Cuzzin Heather, but I've covered her quite a few times before.  Then I got the bright idea to write about a group of cousins I have discovered through the wonder of AncestryDNA.  While I'm fairly certain they have a Pearson connection, I have no idea what it is.  Alas, I have already written about them as well.  So, since I have done my best to maintain only Pearson (or Pearson-related) stories for this year's #52Ancestors, I'm just going to write about ALL my cousins.

I was lucky to grow up with my cousins all around me.  I don't have a ton of them, but I spent my earliest years hanging out with the cousins from my dad's side.  One of my favorite memories with them is of my uncle making breakfast for all of us.  We were living in Australia at the time, and Australia is known for a spread called vegemite.  It's similar to, but not the same as, England's marmite.  For those who don't know what either of those are, they are dark, salty spreads frequently applied to toast.  My cousin, Tracy, hated vegemite.  (I imagine she still does, but she's not likely to encounter it here.)  However, she really enjoyed "well done" toast.  Uncle Alan, joker that he was, managed to slather her toast with vegemite in such a way that it just looked like burnt bread.  I don't remember if she took a bite before realizing it, or if the texture was a giveaway, but I do remember that she was MAD.  Uncle Alan just laughed.

Later on, Tracy was my babysitter.  She's 9 years older than me, so in my eyes, she knew everything.  She told me all about kissing boys.  😂  Her sister, Brandy, is closer to me in age.  She recalls that I was a spoiled child.  I can neither confirm nor deny this report, but Brandy, if you're reading this, I will concede that you are probably right.  Brandy is my source for all things Palermo and Aloisio because she seems to enjoy being the repository for all my Grandma Rose's stories.  Tracy and Brandy's brother, Michael - the middle child of the cousins on my dad's side, stayed in Australia when the girls moved back to the States.  When Tracy got married, he surprised her by coming to the wedding.  I don't think I've ever seen a happier bride.

On my mom's side (Pearsons), I have four more cousins (1st cousins, at any rate).  Adam is the closest to me in age at just a year older.  As such, we spent a lot of time together when we were just tots.  I don't remember it, but my mom likes to tell the story of how Adam punched me, and my dad pulled him aside to have a "man-to-man" chat.  Adam's sister, Bonnie, came along in 1985, but they were no longer living in the same area as my family by that time.  When I was getting ready to graduate from high school, I went out to visit them in Virginia.  We had a couple of enjoyable days together, but on the morning of my departure, Adam didn't get up to say goodbye...because, that's just what cousins do?  He and I are both married with daughters now, but I still mention this instance of rudeness to him from time to time.

My other two first cousins are significantly younger than me because my Aunt Jenny is significantly younger than my mom.  In reality, they are more like younger siblings.  I have a picture of me holding William right after he was born.  I was in high school.  I also have a picture of Christian holding my daughter not long after she was born.  I think he was probably in junior high at the time.

That's the beauty of cousins.  They are kind of like built-in friends when you're young, and if you're lucky, they're still your friends when you get older.

Friends and In-Laws

***This post was transferred from the Finding Horace blog.***

Originally published on Finding Horace 22 Oct. 2023.

When my husband and I got engaged, my mother was interested in what I can only describe as 'hanging out' with my husband's parents.  I found it odd, but my mom explained that, when she was growing up, her Pearson and Swanson grandparents regularly spent time with each other.  As unusual as I think it would seem today, my Pearson and Swanson great grandparents became fast friends after their children married, as evidenced by more than a few pictures.

My grandparents, Marilyn Swanson and Jerry Pearson, married June 12, 1954.  At the time of their marriage, my Swanson great grandparents resided at 10756 Ave. G in Chicago.  My Pearson great grandparents were literally less than a 5-minute walk away at 10743 Ave. J.  They made the walk regularly, visiting at one household or the other. I'm not 100% certain, but I believe the picture below was taken in Great Grandma Thelma/Great Grandpa Oscar Swanson's dining room.

Starting in the back left corner and moving clockwise, we have Grandma Marilyn, my Aunt Linnea, Grandpa Jerry, Great Grandma Thelma (Swanson), Great Grandpa Ben (Pearson), Don Swanson (Marilyn's brother), and Great Grandma Lena (Pearson). I imagine Great Grandpa Oscar was taking the picture.  Based on Aunt Linnea's age, I would guess this photo to be from 1957/1958.

I have countless photos of parties and fishing expeditions that include both sets of great grandparents.  Rather than the stereotypical in-laws of today's sitcoms, Thelma, Lena, Ben, and Oscar legitimately enjoyed each other's company.  

The address plate in this photo seems to say 10733. I'd have to doublecheck with my mother, but this is likely outside my Pearson great grandparents' place.  Left to right: Oscar and Thelma Swanson and Lena and Ben Pearson - in-laws and friends.

Newest Photo Discovery

***This post was transferred from the Finding Horace blog.***

Originally published on Finding Horace 25 Aug. 2023.

When my grandfather passed away in April 2022, I was the recipient of a large tote of pictures and documents.  My grandmother had passed away in January 2018, so the tote contained pictures of both her side (Swansons) and my grandfather's side (Pearsons).  Separating the sides has been something of a chore.  I'm still not finished (I probably never will be), and I'm certain to have misidentified a picture or twelve.  A frustratingly small number of pictures are labeled, but I did come across one envelope that said, "Swedish Relatives - Signe Elizabeth's family."  Signe Elizabeth was my great grandma Thelma's mother, but I had never seen a picture of her.  Alas, I didn't find one in the envelope.  However, I did find a few (labeled!) pictures of her sisters.  

Elsa (left) and Ruth - Signe's twin sister (right)

I put them back in the blessedly labeled envelope and continued digging.  Some time later, I came across a picture of a woman with a little girl.  The little girl looked oddly familiar and so did the woman, but I couldn't immediately figure out why.  

I'm sure you've already figured it out.  If you look at Ruth and then down at this photo, it looks like you're looking at a slightly older version of the same woman. And the reason the little girl looked familiar to me is because great grandma Thelma had eyebrows that gave her a slightly quizzical look in many of her pictures.  You can see that very look in the little girl.  Not one to jump to conclusions where photos are concerned, I went to one of my favorite Facebook groups: Genealogy CLUES - Dating Old Photographs.  I posted the photo and asked for their expertise in dating both the age of the photo and the age of the people in the photo.  The comments had me head over heels:

"I would say child is 3 or 4. Mother in her 30's?"

"1911-1912 ish Girl is about 3 1/2."

1911-1912 would put my great grandmother at 3-4 years old.  Her mother would have been 25-26, and she does look a bit older, but I have a theory.  In early 1911, her husband died from tuberculosis.  Tuberculosis is not a fast-moving disease, so Signe could have been caring for him for months, if not years.  She also would have been caring for her toddler at the same time.  I think she looks a little older because of that.

And so, I present to you:

Signe Elizabeth (Johnson) Robertson Erickson and her daughter

Thelma Linnea (Robertson) Swanson

Circa 1911

💕

The Great Outdoors (Water Edition)

***This post was transferred from the Finding Horace blog.***

Originally published on Finding Horace 10 Jul 2023.

My mother often tells me of the trips she and her family took to Minnesota when she was a little girl.  There are pictures upon pictures of my grandparents and my aunts and uncles holding strings of fish.  It wasn't until my grandfather passed and I received a large tote of pictures that I realized that his parents, my great grandma and grandpa Pearson, were also avid fisherpeople.

These pictures are all from the same trip to Fall Lake, MN.  The back of the pictures indicate that this was a May 1973 excursion and that on this particular day, Great Grandpa Ben and Great Grandma Lena caught the limit on walleye.  Great Grandpa is 84 and Great Grandma is 77. Look how proud they are!  While I hadn't really considered it before, I guess a love for fishing/the water makes sense for both of them. Great Grandma Lena grew up not far from Lake Michigan, and Great Grandpa Ben grew up by the Ohio River.  On top of that, fishing was another way to supplement family meals. I could really go for some fried walleye right about now...

My Swanson great grandparents were also lovers of the water. Below, you can see my Great Grandpa Oscar's brother, Harry, in his fishing boat.  Harry was also quite fond of sailing.  I believe he took the picture on the right.  The back reads, "It don't seem very long Oscar that I took this picture and brother Harold is just taking it easy that day.  He was the captain to all of us and I sure hope his family are all well."  Harold (not Harry) passed away in 1936; he is leaning up against the mast.  My Great Grandpa Oscar is on the right. This picture of the brothers (not sure who the man on the left is) enjoying the great outdoors seems to be a bittersweet memory for Harry.

Great Grandpa Oscar and Great Grandma Thelma grew up within spitting distance of the shores of Lake Michigan, and while I have pictures of them fishing (sometimes with my Pearson great grandparents), they also appeared to love the beach.  

I love this group photo that includes my great grandparents.  Grandpa Oscar is bottom right with his hat askew, and Grandma Thelma is in the center being hugged by another woman.  I cannot identify anyone else in this photo, but they are clearly having a good time!  I imagine they spent the day eating, talking, perhaps playing some games, and just generally enjoying their time together.  This particular photo does not indicate where the picture was taken, but the film was developed in LaCrosse, Wisconsin.  Looks like they have some pretty nice beaches there...

Living the Slow Life

***This post was transferred from the Finding Horace blog.***

Originally published on Finding Horace 24 Jun. 2023.

The six Wedberg sisters - Nellie, Bothilda, Cecilia, Anna, Louisa, and Lena (not in that order), circa 1905

Now, I don't think anyone would ever accuse me of "living life in the fast lane."  I enjoy quiet time with my family, and I prefer to entertain my friends in my home rather than getting together at a bar or restaurant.  I do not find the idea of a girls' day out at the mall relaxing, and I still haven't given up possession of my flip phone. Essentially, given the choice, I prefer not to have immediate access to all things at all times, and I certainly don't actively seek out humanity or mass consumption.

And yet, as much as I (metaphorically) drive in the right hand lane, I know the world moves much faster for me than it did for those who lived 100 years ago (heck, even 50 or 25 years ago).  Lucky for me, one of my ancestors thought to record what the slower life was like when her family left their home in Sweden and moved to Hegewisch, Illinois, in 1891/92!  The following are various excerpts from Cecilia Ingrid (Wedberg) Hendrickson, my great grandmother's sister.

"He [my father] left Sweden, Nov. 1891, coming to his sister’s home on Brandon Avenue.  And in the summer of Aug. 21, 1892, my mother came with 6 children." Here is our first look at the comparatively slow movement of the times.  Travel from Sweden to the United States would have been by boat (possibly multiple boats) and not airplane.  The trip would have taken weeks, not hours or days.  Of course, the move was also slow in that the family did not make it together.  10 months passed before husband and wife were reunited in Illinois.  Cecilia also noted that her mother (along with 6 children - one only 5 months old) "had sat in Union Station 2 days.  Only one train left [for Hegewisch] a day." Today, we would call a taxi or an Uber and be at our destination in no time!

Cecilia also noted how families passed the time in those days. "Mother had brought her spinning wheel from Sweden, and living at 13227 Brandon Ave., the school children would come by and get up on the porch to watch her spin...There were no TV’s or radios and not many automobiles.  Our entertainment was work and study also a house party once in a while.  At those parties we played games such as kiss the pillow (this is how Lena met her 1st husband), post office, and guessing games.  Then the nickel shows started coming – a nickel was money in those days." Imagine walking home from school and stopping to watch your friend's mother work her spinning wheel.  Nowadays, I suppose it might cause a sensation as very few people would know what it was!  The children of today would consider the entertainment options meager as well.  No TV's?  No radios? Certainly no video game systems or cell phones...  And yet people still managed to enjoy their leisure and find life partners. 

(***If you want to know what those games were all about, here is what I found as I attempted to footnote Cecilia's account.

Kiss the Pillow: A boy takes a pillow and throws it at the feet of the girl he likes best, and kneels upon it; she must also kneel upon the pillow and kiss the boy.  She then takes the pillow and throws it at the feet of one of the boys and kneels on the pillow; he then kneels down, kisses, the girl, and takes his turn with the pillow – The American Home Book of In-door Games, Amusements, and Occupations, by Caroline L. Smith, page 54.

Post Office: First all players involved in the game must be divided into two groups. After the division, one of these groups will go to another room. This room will be referred to as the "Post Office."  Every individual from the group that is not in the post office must visit the post office one at a time. Everyone in the post office must kiss the visitor.  After everyone from the outside group has visited the post office, the groups switch places. Now the new post office members must kiss the visitors who arrive one at a time from the former post office group - http://www.ehow.com/list_7216807_post-office-game-rules.html***)

Obviously, Cecilia's mother was not spinning for leisure (as some do today); she was spinning because it was necessary in order to be able to clothe herself and her children.  Somehow, though, even their work sounded relaxing.  Cecilia recounted, "At that time the woods were full of flowers and wild grapes and apples which we would pick for jelly."  And you could just pick them!  You didn't have to worry that the woods belonged to someone, and no one need be concerned about having to pay for what grew from the trees and vines.  Today, we fork over money for the privilege of picking a basket of apples or choosing our own Halloween pumpkins.  It is something we do for relaxation, for recreation, for memories.  As with the spinning, though, it was something my ancestors did for survival - to ensure a full pantry.

Would I have enjoyed living this much slower lifestyle?  I like knitting the occasional sweater and making pickles and jellies from our garden's harvest, but they are not integral to my survival.  Instead of these activities, I work to have the money to pay for clothing and food.  Is this way of living any more fulfilling, though?  I doubt Great Aunt Cecilia would think so.

So Many Descendants

***This post was transferred from the Finding Horace blog.***

Originally published on Finding Horace 10 Jun. 2023.  

I have my pick of families with "so many descendants," but I think I'll focus on my grandfather and his brothers and sisters.  As Uncle Toot (sounds like the "toot" in Tootsie Roll) recalled, there were more children than he could remember, but he did his best one day to list all of them for my dad.  Somewhere, there was a cassette recording of this discussion.  I'm assuming it was tossed a long time ago, but maybe it will materialize one of these days.

Including my grandfather, I have recorded 10 children born to Francisco (Frank) and Santa Palermo.  My grandfather's oldest sibling was Antonino (Tony) Francisco Palermo born in November 1904.  Uncle Tony and his wife, Mary, had 4 children - 1 boy and 3 girls.

Next was Rocco Palermo, born on Independence Day in 1906.  Sadly, there is little to tell about Rocco, who was named after his grandfather, Santa's father.  Rocco's death certificate relates that he died of typhoid fever in September 1912.  He was six years old.

The first girl born to Frank and Santa was Paola (Pauline) in January 1909.  She was named after Santa's mother.  Pauline was married twice. The first marriage was to Salvatore Vantimiglia, and they had at least one son, Joseph Frances Vantimiglia, in 1935. After Salvatore’s death, Pauline married Archibald Madison.  This was a late-in-life marriage, and I don't have any children recorded, but writing this post reminds me that I need to look further into this.  

Grandpa Martin was born in 1910.  In his brief life, he was married twice.  His first marriage to Rose Tomasek produced one daughter, Delores Rose.  His marriage to my grandmother resulted in my aunt and my father.

Next came another girl, Francis T., in April 1912.  I don't know what the "T" stands for because the only documentation I have that Francis existed is her death certificate.  She succumbed to bronchial pneumonia at only 16 days old.  Her headstone reads "Francis T. Palermo - Sweet Baby Girl."

Salvatore Rocco Palermo (Uncle Toot) was born in May 1913. Because both Rocco and Francis passed before his birth, I wonder if he knew to include them in his list of siblings.  Are there other siblings who died in infancy that came later, and I haven't found them?  Once again, writing this post reminds me to revisit the Missouri Digital Birth Records to see if I can locate any additional Palermo children.  Uncle Toot married Dorothea Lischer in 1935 and had 3 children with her, 2 girls and 1 boy.

Nicholas Palermo was born in December 1914.  Once again, I see that I need to revisit this particular sibling of Grandpa Martin's.  I have two marriages recorded for Nicholas, but I don't have any children noted.  A quick search for the 1950 census reveals two stepchildren, presumably children from wife, Marie's, first marriage. 

Anna Marie Palermo was born in January 1917. She married Richard Wegman and had at least one daughter with him.  The last time I researched this side of my family, the 1950 census was not yet available.  One of the first things I will do once I am done with this post is seek out those census records. As Richard and Anna's daughter was born in 1937, it is quite possible I will find additional children on the 1950 census.  The same goes for many of Anna's siblings.

Anna's sister, Beatrice Rose, was born April 1919. She married Charles Zammit, and they had at least one son.  Once again, the 1950 census and/or another scouring of Missouri birth/death records may unearth more.

The final (as far as I know) child born to Frank and Santa Palermo was Francisco Antonio (Frank Jr.) in 1921. Frank and his wife, Christine, had at least 4 children - 2 boys and 2 girls.

That tallies up to at least 16 grandchildren for Frank and Santa. I'm certain I have larger families who produced more descendants, but I'm glad I chose to write about this particular generation of Palermos.  I don't know nearly enough about them, but that is something I will try to rectify as soon as I hit "Publish" on this post.

Beards

***This post was transferred from the Finding Horace blog.***

Originally published on Finding Horace 20 May 2023.

To be honest, there is a noticeable dearth of beards in my immediate family. My husband has one, and my dad has had one from time to time, but other than that, clean-shaven or mustaches seem to be the order of the day. Allow me to demonstrate:

My grandfathers

My great grandfathers

A few great great grandfathers

Not much to see there.  Cuzzin Heather suggested my cabinet card book of unknown Swedish folk.  Surprisingly, it was much of the same.  There were two bearded men in my collection, but fortuitously, I *did* have an identification for one of them - this bearded fellow:

Meet Sven Svensson (and family)

That is quite the lush beard. The tall blond girl on the left is Esther.  The stern looking woman in the back is Nilla, my great great grandfather Ola's sister. I suspect the remaining children are Sven Jr., Nils, Axel, and the baby is likely Ruth.  I was able to identify them through the wonder that is Ancestry. Someone had this photo of Sven:

His hairline has receded somewhat, but there is no doubt about the facial hair (and the ears)!  So there, you have it, folks.  Enjoy the beard of the husband of my second great grand aunt. 😂

Pets

***This post was transferred from the Finding Horace blog.***

Originally published on Finding Horace  6 May 2023. 

The picture is of my dad's Aunt Nell and her beloved Boston Terrier, Trouble (#1).  This was taken at Aunt Nell and Uncle Sal's home on 259th St.  It was a small home with a beautiful backyard garden.  I envision a young Trouble capering through the gardens and maybe getting into some mischief digging holes or otherwise damaging the greenery.

Later on in their marriage, Aunt Nell and Uncle Sal moved to a large and lovely home at 34 Emerson Ave. It had 5 bedrooms and 5 bathrooms, but that wasn't because they had dozens of children to raise.  In fact, they had no children of their own. Instead, Uncle Sal (though he had married into the family) took in any of his wife's family who needed help.  At various points in time, my dad's grandparents, his Aunt Eva, and his Aunt Tani and Uncle Jerry lived with them.  Tani and Jerry's kids, Pete and Sara, also lived with them for a time.  Of course, Trouble lived with them, too, and he snurfled into stiff and cranky old age in a beautiful house with multiple staircases, a grand piano, and one of those rooms that everyone looked at but no one went into.

My dad tells the story of how Pete and Sara wanted a dog of their own.  They got Cindy.  Dad didn't remember what kind of dog Cindy was, but she was large and rowdy and considerably younger than Trouble.  As Dad put it, Cindy would be tear-assing around the house, and you could hear Trouble snurfling around trying to get out of the way.  Trouble was too old to get up the stairs easily, and Cindy would go flying past, and Boom!  She would knock Trouble over.  Poor Trouble.  I guess Aunt Nell must have felt sorry for him, too, because after he went to that great dog park in the sky, Aunt Nell got another Boston Terrier, and she named him Trouble 2. 

Memberships

***This post was transferred from the Finding Horace blog.***

Originally published on Finding Horace 25 Mar. 2023.

Kristian (Christian) Nilsson Wedberg is my great great grandfather, and he is the reason why I am familiar with Woodmen of the World.

I first encountered mention of the organization when I was looking at Kristian’s headstone on Find-a-Grave. I remember asking my mother if she knew what it meant.  She didn’t, but she looked quite mortified at the idea that he was somehow part of some secret society.  

Ultimately, I found out that Woodmen of the World wasn’t anything sinister.  It is simply a fraternal society, founded in 1890 in Nebraska, that practiced philanthropy and spearheaded community outreach projects. As with many other fraternal societies from this time, it offered private life insurance as a benefit of its membership. Also, until the 1920’s, Woodmen of the World provided each member with a tombstone.  Based on the cost of modern tombstones, I imagine this had to be a nice perk of membership. Some of the provided headstones were quite ornate as evidenced by the picture below (Wikipedia).

In later research of a different (but similarly Scandinavian) line, I discovered a newspaper article that discussed the wedding of my great great grandparents. Hugo Robertson and Signe (Johnson) Robertson were apparently members of something called The Independent Order of the Svithiod. Like Kristian, Hugo and Signe were in my mother’s direct line, so I questioned her again, and again, I was aware of a slight mortification. She apologetically explained that my grandfather was a member in good standing with a society whose name she could no longer remember.

At any rate, being a part of the Svithiod wasn’t any more embarrassing than being attached to Woodmen of the World.  My great great grandparents were simply part of a community of Scandinavians devoted to preserving Scandinavian culture, heritage, and education. For a bit more information on this order, visit their website: https://www.svithiod.org.

I’m sure there are some questionable memberships out there, but until you’ve done some research, don’t assume they are anything of which you should be ashamed!

Unlucky

***This post was transferred from the Finding Horace blog.***

Originally published on Finding Horace 10 Mar. 2023. 

Several posts on this blog mention that Heather and I have an inordinate amount of relatives who lost limbs in railroad accidents.  Horace, the initial inspiration for my other blog, was quite unlucky to lose both of his legs when he was only a boy.  Here's the story of a man who lost the same leg twice!

Nils/Nels Magnus Wedberg was my great grandma Lena's brother.  Like Horace, Nils found himself on the wrong side of a train - that would be the underside - when he was quite young.  I don't have the details of the accident, but needless to say, he was lucky to survive being run over by a train - especially in the early 1900s!  Unlike Horace, Nils lost only one leg.  Also unlike Horace, who lost both legs at the hips, Nils was able to get a prosthetic that allowed him a normal range of mobility. In spite of what had to be a terrifying experience, Nils did not avoid the railroad - quite the opposite.

In 1912, Nils was in his late teens and working as a crane operator at the Standard Steel Car Works in Hammond, Indiana.  On the morning of December 7th, as he was stepping into his crane, another crane - passing too closely - snagged his artificial leg.  Yanked from his crane, Nils narrowly escaped being crushed; his artificial leg was not so lucky. That evening, Munster's The Times ran the following story:

Man escapes death but loses leg.  Man escapes death but loses replacement of the initially lost leg.  I'm not sure you can get much luckier than that.

Creativity

***This post has been transferred from the Finding Horace blog.***

Originally published on Finding Horace 15 Jun. 2024.

Holding place until I get a better picture

Uncle Sal LaCagnina was married to Aunt Nell, and he was a furniture builder by trade, but Uncle Sal was also an artist.  I don't know if any of his work still exists other than this painting in my dad's house.  It's not a great quality photo, so you probably can't appreciate the detail and color of the parrot on the vase of flowers, but it is a beautiful piece.

The 1910 census (Uncle Sal would have been about 15) indicates that he was an apprentice in a lawyer's office.  I like to imagine he rifled through case briefings and affidavits and discovered he had no desire to partake in the profession.  Certainly, by the time he completed his draft card for World War I, he had realized his disinterest in law.  He was working for International Shade Company in Springfield, Massachusetts, and listed his occupation as 'art glass.'  A quick search on Google revealed an International Shade Company floor lamp with a stunning stained glass shade.  It is my assumption that those are the types of items Uncle Sal created.  In 1930, he identified himself as an 'artist' employed in furniture wholesale.  In 1940, he was still listed as an artist, but the column indicating industry reads 'church work.'  Considering that he had worked in glass, perhaps he was creating stained glass windows.   Or maybe he did scroll work on pews. because, in the 1950 census, his occupation was listed as a "furniture decoration," which I assume means he did things like designs and detailing on hardwood furniture.  

Whether the medium was glass, woodwork, or painting, it seems clear that Uncle Sal certainly preferred creativity to the court room.

Nicknames

***This post was transferred from the Finding Horace blog.***

Originally published on Finding Horace 30 May 2024.

Matteo Francisco (Martin/Mike) Palermo

When I first discovered my Cousin Carol via the wonders of Ancestry, I remember composing an email in which I tried to explain my connection to her.  (This was before DNA tests were popular and before that was an option Ancestry offered.)  I introduced myself as best as I could and then wrote "my grandfather's name was Martin/Mike/Matteo Palermo."  I definitely stared at the sentence for a while before sending my email.  I was new to genealogy at this point, and I wondered if my information was incorrect.  Surely my grandfather didn't have three different first names...  That was, however, the case. He was likely named for his great grandfather, Matteo Palermo (1826-1896).  Most of his siblings, though, opted for more Americanized names, and Matteo became Martin.  And then everyone called him Mike.  Would we call this a double nickname?  Regardless, it certainly made recordkeeping a bit dicey.

Taking Care of Business

***This post was transferred from the Finding Horace blog.***

Originally published on Finding Horace 30 May 2024.

My great grandfather, Mariano (Mario) Aloisio, and his brother, Cosimo, emigrated from Sicily in the early 1900s.  To them, 'taking care of business' meant finding a way to earn a living in their new country.  Cosimo was a tailor.  I assume this is a skill that he had practiced in Sicily, as it takes a certain level of precision.  Mario is listed as a plasterer in the 1900 census and on his WWI Draft Registration card.

Tailoring, as a profession, has been around since the Middle Ages.  At that time, though, tailoring wasn't nearly the art form that it eventually became.  It had more to do with covering the body and less to do with being specifically made to fit the wearer.  Once tailors moved from utilitarian clothing to clothing fitted to the individual, actual skill became a necessity.  Tailors needed to have an eye for detail, the ability to do fine needle work, knowledge of different types of fabric, etc.  Master tailors took on apprentices who wanted to fine tune the basic skills of measuring, cutting, and sewing.  Thus, I think it is likely Cosimo had acquired this skill in Sicily.  He was already in his early 20s when he came to America, and all documents indicate this was his profession for the entirety of his lifetime.

Mario was in his mid-20s when he arrived in New York, and the first mention of an occupation is the 1910 census where it is indicated that he is a plasterer in the building industry.  This job would have required some level of skill in terms of being able to lay even layers of plaster, but it wouldn't have necessitated the same level of training as a tailor.  I think it is likely Mario learned how to plaster on the job.  His WWI draft registration card indicates he was still in the business of plastering in 1918.  I have not found a 1920 census, the 1930 census is illegible, and he is not working on the 1940 census.  Nonetheless, both these men did what was necessary to take care of business and take care of their families.

Source:
"Working Lives - and Workers' Organizations," WCML, Working Class Movement Library, www.wcml.org.uk/our-collections/working-lives/. Accessed 30 May 2024.

Step Parent

***This post was transferred from the Finding Horace blog.***

Originally published on Finding Horace 19 Apr. 2024.

My Great Grandma Thelma's biological father, Hugo Robertson, died from tuberculosis in 1911 when she was not even three years old.  Signe Robertson, Thelma's mother, did not marry again until 1923, and her new husband was Simon (Sam) Erickson, pictured above.  Great Grandma Thelma was already 15 by then and probably wouldn't have been blamed for not forming a close relationship with her stepfather, but all evidence suggests that he treated her as his daughter (he had no biological children of his own), and she treated him as her father. 

In 1930, Thelma was still with her mother and stepfather, but she married my Great Grandpa Oscar in 1931.  In 1940, Sam and Signe were living with my great grandparents, and in 1950, even though Signe died in 1948, Thelma's stepfather, Sam, was still living in my great grandparents' home.  My mom remembers "Grandpa Sam," as she calls him, and says that he lived with his stepdaughter for the rest of his life.  He enjoyed spending his time at the Swedish Club, and Great Grandma would often opine that he was "drinking and gambling" down there, and then she would send my Great Grandpa Oscar to retrieve him.

School Days

***This post was transferred from the Finding Horace blog.***

Originally published on Finding Horace 9 Apr. 2024. 

Interior of Swedish School House, circa 1877

As mentioned in a previous post, my great grandmother's sister, Cecilia Ingrid (Wedberg) Hendrickson was kind enough to leave behind a handwritten account of her earlier years.  I have done my best to accurately transcribe and, in some cases, annotate it. What follows is Cecilia's description of a fire that burned a Swedish school house - and much of Baskemölla, Sweden.

One day, [my parents] accompanied Captain Flink to see him off on one of his sea journeys and while at Simrisham, Sweden, saw that a great fire had broken out at Baskemölla. It started in the school house above our home. Being a windy day, it spread fast and before long the village was on fire. The people ran to the Baltic Sea to keep out of flying debris and from getting burned. Our maid, Kristiana Lovedall, was concerned about saving belongings. Our clerk came up from our store and asked if she had all the children. At that time, sister Annie was asleep in one of the beds that the fire had already reached in a room, but he grabbed her in time. Nelly and I became frightened and ran on stocking feet to Vik where some people knew who we were and said in Swedish, “Deta ar Wedberg’s barn.”  Tillie was the first to come and say that the school was on fire. We were having dinner or brunch, which consisted of salt pork and eggs.

Our parents saw the fire from the city. Father jumped into his buggy leaving Mother. He drove so fast the wheels flew off and he jumped on the horse. He reached his home in time to pull a dresser and desk of valuable papers and money. He rushed in just as the walls caved in. As he was coming out, women had pails of water which they threw on him. I have a little drawer which was in that desk. The orchard – also some stock were lying dead on the ground.

Finally, Mother reached the outskirts of town where friends came to meet her saying, “Mary, you need not hurry. All yours is gone.” It was indeed sad, for people who had lost all they had in those days had little insurance and most – none.

Father, being a contractor, had more than he could handle.  He had to build the town and a beautiful home for ourselves.

A few notes of clarification/annotation:  

1. I am uncertain as to whether or not the schoolhouse adjoined the Wedberg home. Perhaps their home was simply the next building down from the school house.  Descriptions of Swedish communities suggest buildings were close together and constructed from highly flammable materials.

2. “Deta ar Wedberg’s barn" translates to "These are Wedberg children."

3. Although I am not a fan of using Wikipedia for research purposes, I did find this very useful information in the Baskemölla entry: 

 “Three large fires, 1889, 1894 and 1913, destroyed almost the entire community. In 1889 the fire began in the schoolhouse and then spread rapidly due to the strong wind from the sea. 37 houses and 5 farms burned down, and some 50 families became homeless in a few hours. The housing issue was initially difficult to solve, but many surrounding villages came up with help so that the families received temporary housing."  Based on the mention of the strong winds in Cecilia's account and the fact that her family was no longer in Sweden by 1894, the event described was clearly the 1889 fire. Oddly enough, outside of the Wikipedia entry and Great Aunt Cecilia's anecdotal evidence, I can find no other mention of the fire.

4.  When Cecilia noted her father had to build the town, that was not an exaggeration. The same Wikipedia article identifies him by name saying, "In 1890 it was decided to build a new, larger school building. Builder and tradesman Christian Wedberg, a resident of the community, made a bid of SEK 5,000, which was accepted. The new school housed halls for high school and junior school as well as a teacher's residence to the east."  Later in Cecilia's account, she indicates that the construction did not progress as her father wanted, so in 1891, he began planning his family's immigration to the United States.

All because of a school house...

Least Favorite Recipe

***This post was transferred from the Finding Horace blog.***

Originally published on Finding Horace 31 Mar. 2024.

My grandmother was Sicilian, so she had plenty of delicious recipes.  Her Sunday sauce was, of course, top notch.  Honestly, I'm not sure anyone could pick a favorite recipe from her repertoire, but I can tell you that my father's least favorite recipe was/is something called escarole and beans.  As a kid, I didn't know what it was.  I just knew it must be awful because it was the only food my dad admitted he hated eating as a kid.  Even the mention of it has my dad putting a hand to either side of his head and groaning dramatically, "Ack!  Escarole and beans!"

Escarole is a bitter leafy green which Dad claims is inoffensive enough when it is served raw as part of a salad, but something sinister happens when it is cooked...or maybe the sinister part is when the white beans are added.  I'm not sure.  Everything I've read says that cooking escarole minimizes the bitter taste, and the rest of the recipe consists of broth, garlic, onion, olive oil, salt and red pepper. Those are usually safe ingredients to add to most any dish.

Anyway, as my father tells it, any time Grandma Rose prepared steak and fries for dinner, Dad and Aunt Chris knew the dreaded escarole and beans was also on the menu. This unpalatable item was served first and had to be consumed before the much more desirable steak and fries could be eaten.  Alas, Dad couldn't even sneak the unpleasant slop to the dog under the table.  It wouldn't eat the escarole and beans either, and even if it were so inclined, the dog was only the size of a teacup.  Not much help when it comes to getting rid of food.  I asked Dad if he ever managed to make it to the steak and fries.  He said he did eventually, but by that time, it was already cold.  He also pointed out that there weren't any microwaves back then, though I doubt microwaving a steak would improve it any.  😞

Here's the funniest part of the story, though.  When I graduated from college (at least, I think that's what we were celebrating), we all went out to a great little chain Italian restaurant called Buca di Beppo in the suburbs of Chicago.  They had escarole and bean on the menu.  My dad, in a fit of optimism, decided to order it, thinking that maybe his palate would have changed since he was a kid.  Sadly, it had not. 😆

Worship

***This post was transferred from the Finding Horace blog.***

Originally published on Finding Horace 24 Mar. 2024.

I don't have much in the way of information concerning when and where my ancestors chose to worship.  I do know that the Swedish Lutheran churches kept fabulous records, and I have appreciated their diligence on several occasions.  For this post, though, I thought I would look at this 1954 news article that discusses the 50th anniversary of my great grandparents, Frank and Santa Palermo.  It reports that they celebrated a renewal of marriage vows in the same place they had been married in 1904 - St. Charles Borromeo Catholic Church in St. Louis, Missouri.

St. Louis Post-Dispatch, 28 Feb. 1954, p. 16.

I had hoped to find that the church on Locust Street still existed, but research uncovered that it was demolished several decades ago. St. Charles Borromeo Catholic Church had been founded by Father Caesar Spigardi in 1900 at Nineteenth and Morgan streets in the area known as "Little Italy."  However, Father Spigardi soon began looking for a larger building to house his increasing number of congregants.  By 1902, he was able to raise enough funds to purchase the former St. John's Methodist Church on Twenty-Ninth and Locust Streets. An Italian from Mantua, Italy, Father Spigardi's parish consisted of a large number of Sicilians.  My Sicilian great grandparents had been in America 7 years (Frank) and 1 year (Santa) when they married in 1904.  This church, with its familiar people and language, undoubtedly felt welcoming to them.  

 

Photo Credit

As Frank and Santa were married in March of 1904, and their son, Antonino, was born before the end of 1904, it is likely he was baptized in this church along with the myriad of brothers and sisters who followed in later years. Father Spigardi passed away in 1931, and by this time, the number of active families had decreased from 1,500 to just 100.  Based on those numbers, it seems likely that the Palermo family had moved its worship elsewhere, but perhaps not.  After all, Father Spigardi was followed by another Italian, Father Fiorenzo Lupo.  Either way, the parish must have meant enough to Frank and Santa that it was important for them to renew their vows there.  Sadly, Santa passed away just nine months after their vow renewal.

St. Charles Borromeo Catholic Church (pictured above) on Locust Street closed in 1982.  

For more information on the history and architecture of St. Charles Borromeo Catholic Church in St. Louis, go here. 

Additional Sources:

"A Catholic Church That One Man Built," St. Louis Star and Times, 20 Nov. 1933, p. 15. 

Radio Technology

***This post was transferred from the Finding Horace blog.***

Originally published on Finding Horace 23 Mar. 2024.

Although radio technology had been around in some form or another since the late 1800s, entertainment broadcasting didn't take off until the early 1900s.  According to an article on the PBS American Experience website, "The period between the late 1920s and the early 1950s is considered the Golden Age of Radio, in which comedies, dramas, variety shows, game shows, and popular music shows drew millions of listeners across America."    In Chicago, in 1924, the Southtown Economist newspaper had a radio station with a WBCN call sign.  It was on this radio station that you could hear the dulcet tones of my great grandma Lena's brother, Berger Wedberg. 

Suburbanite Economist, 29 Apr. 1926, p. 5.

He frequented other radio stations as well, and his radio popularity led to many other non-radio jobs.  Newspaper articles tell us Berger sang at at a football benefit for the Maywood Boosters in 1926.  In 1929, Berger was supposed to sing at a police benefit, but beforehand, a thief made off with his overcoat and sheet music.  It seems that Berger was still able to perform, though.  In 1928, he sang at the Greater East Chicago-Indiana Harbor Exposition. An article detailing the exposition referred to Berger as the "golden-voiced tenor who is known to radio fans over the entire country."  In 1934, Berger even sang at the funeral of Hammond, Indiana's locally famous boxer, Jimmy Clabby.

The Times (Munster, Indiana), 22 Jan. 1934, p. 1.

In his later years, Berger switched to a slightly older 'technology' to work for the railroad.  (If you've followed this blog at all, you'll know that railroads were a dangerous place for my relatives.  Among other incidents, one of Berger's brothers, Nels, lost one of his legs to a railroad accident.)  The article below details much of Berger's musical life, and I imagine not all of it would have been possible if not for the advent of the radio.

The Times (Munster, Indiana), 7 Apr. 1952, p. 3.

Sources:

"The Development of Radio," PBS, www.pbs.org/wgbh/americanexperience/features/rescue-development-radio/. Accessed 22 Mar. 2024.

"Sings a Maywood Booster Dance," The Times, 23 Nov. 1926, p. 18.

"Theft of Tenor's Coat and Music Endangers Ball," The Times, 12 Nov. 1929, p. 15.

VFW Auxiliary

***This post was transferred from the Finding Horace blog.***

Originally published on Finding Horace 15 Mar. 2024.

In 1914, the Veterans of Foreign Wars Auxiliary was formed to honor and support veterans.  The aim of this organization was to improve the lives of servicemen and women and their families through community assistance programs. 

Carmela (Aloisio) LaCagnina - Aunt Nell, as she was affectionately called - was my Grandma Rose's sister.  Aunt Nell's husband, Salvatore - Uncle Sall - was a veteran of World War I.  Aunt Nell's brothers, Bud and Pete, were World War II veterans.  Both brothers served in the 104th Infantry division known as the Timberwolves.

I don't know if Aunt Nell's family directly benefited from any of the VFW Auxiliary services (which include - but are not limited to - medical care, scholarships, and monitoring legislative concerns specific to veterans), but the program must have meant enough to her that she felt compelled to run for a post in the VFW Auxiliary in her area.  Just before the end of World War II, in April 1945, Aunt Nell became president of the Queens County VFW Auxiliary.  The picture below shows her looking on as the new commander of the Woodhull Veterans of Wars Post is installed.

Long Island Star-Journal, 26 Apr. 1945

I am uncertain how long she remained in this post, but the newspaper clipping below indicates she was still president as of April 1951.

Daily News, 29 Apr. 1951

She must have been well-respected as part of this organization.  When Nell's mother died as a result of a house fire, two different VFW Auxiliaries made donations to the Nassau Medical Burn Center in Sophie Aloisio's honor - the State of New York Ladies Auxiliary VFW and the Queens County VFW Auxiliary of which Nell had been president.

Furthermore, while I don't know of any personal achievements in this post, Aunt Nell will forever be associated with the greater achievements of this organization. According to the VFW Auxiliary site, from 2019-2021, the VFW Auxiliary provided over 660,000 volunteer hours in VA Medical Centers and other health-related services, made over 200,000 legislative contacts regarding important bills affecting veterans and their families, awarded nearly $300,000 in scholarships, and distributed more than 600,000 U.S. flags.  Not every achievement is an individual one.

Grandma's Sayings

***This post was transferred from the Finding Horace blog.***

Originally published on Finding Horace 6 Mar. 2024.

Me and Grandma, 1982ish.

Last Christmas Eve, I posted on Facebook about my Grandma Rose.  My daughter had asked us what she was like, and what transpired was a flood of remembrance that centered around some of Grandma's oft-uttered sayings.  After I posted it, my dad and my cousins all chimed in with the sayings (and one unfortunate driving incident) they most remembered.  It seems that Grandma left her mark through her use of language...and in more than one language!  I thought it would be fun to record everyone's recollections here.

I told my daughter that if Grandma Rose were still here, there are two sayings that would be ingrained in her mind.  At least, they were the sayings ingrained in my mind.  First, you never used the word “hey” to get Grandma’s attention. She would look at you, probably raise a dainty eyebrow, and respond, “Hey/Hay is for horses.” That ended the conversation before it even started. Two, if you happened to ask Grandma, “Why?” she would respond with, “Because y is a crooked letter.” Still not sure what she meant by that. In fact, I even tried to Google what the saying meant, and opinions were varied.  Everyone agreed, though, that whatever its potential meanings, its intent was to put an end to an irritating string of 'why' questions.  Sounds like I was an inquisitive child...

Cousin Tracy, and later Cousin Michael, offered their favorite - "I may not always be right, but I'm never wrong." I honestly don't remember hearing that one, but it doesn't matter.  It's just the sort of thing that Grandma would say.  She would have said it quite matter-of-factly and without even a hint of irony.   

Slightly less humorous (and certainly more than a little macabre) was another Cousin Michael offering - "When the devil caresses you, he wants your soul."  Again, I didn't remember that one, but Brandy clarified that Grandma would say it in Italian - Quannu u diavulu ti accarezza, ti voli l'anima.  If I was around when she said it, no one ever translated for me.  This is apparently an old Italian saying used to warn about the dangers of flattery.  Essentially, flatterers want something from you.

Finally, Brandy contributed this one.  "Man may propose, God will dispose."  When I looked up this saying, I discovered it was actually a paraphrase of The Bible, Proverbs 19:21, and it essentially means that you are welcome to make plans, but that God decides how things turn out in the end. I think I was just too young to appreciate the lessons behind many of Grandma's favorite sayings, but at least they are now recorded for posterity.