Baseball at the Grove

                                  Old Fashioned Baseball at Spiegel Grove, Fremont, Ohio

 

© 20  August 2008, Desktop Genealogist Unplugged, Teresa L. Snyder 

His Eyes were Gray

His eyes were gray. A man of small stature, he stood five feet six inches tall. The recruiter noted his dark hair, his dark complexion. He was 42 years old when he showed up at the recruiting station in Chillicothe, Ohio on that March day in 1865. 

In an area of the state where most men were miners, he listed his occupation as farmer. He had come that day with other men from Vinton County, many of them kinfolk. He was given a uniform, a canteen, a knapsack and a haversack. All told, the value of these items was $30.13. 

His papers listed his place of birth as Louisa County, Virginia, a fact often assumed and now confirmed. A large X where his signature should have been, signified that he could neither read nor write. According to his papers, he had signed on for a year. Lee’s surrender the following month ensured that he would not see the full term of his enlistment. 

On October 24, while stationed in Washington DC, he mustered out of Company D, 194th Ohio Infantry and out of the Union Army. He resumed his life as a farmer in Wilkesville Township of Vinton County, Ohio. His name was Nimrod Nicholas Thacker. He was my 4th great grandfather and his eyes were gray.

Note: Yesterday’s mail brought the compiled military file of Nimrod N. Thacker that I had ordered from NARA This was request number five from my “7 Days, 7 Requests” series. Request number three also came back and unfortunately, they could not find a record of a marriage between Thomas Jacobus and Catherine? in Essex County, New Jersey for the time, I had specified. You win some. You lose some.

© 19  August 2008, Desktop Genealogist Unplugged, Teresa L. Snyder 

A Gift from an Internet Cousin

I work out of my home office. The arrangement has it perks, one of which is having my own honest to goodness window. Having worked for fifteen years in a building that had no windows, this is a very big deal. My view overlooks my front yard. From there I can see some of my trees, my flowerbed, and most importantly, I can see my mailbox. 

Last week, the mailbox and the glorious mailman who delivers my mail, were the focus of my attention. My Internet cousin, Dee, whom I have written about previously, had told me she was sending me “some” photographs. I could hardly contain myself. Dee thought they would get here sometime midweek. I figured Friday. They arrived on Saturday. 

When they finally arrived, I barely managed to make it indoors before I ripped open the package. Inside the envelope were fifty-two pictures. Pictures that Dee had taken to her local Walgreens, copied, and then had taken the time to label EACH ONE. I can’t imagine how long a process this was, but oh my, what a wonderful treasure Dee has sent me.

Among the pictures is one of my ggg grandfather Daniel Lynch’s brother, William Lynch. There is a picture of William’s son John, a mighty handsome man judging by his photograph which was taken sometime before his death in 1885. Though John lived his entire life in Illinois, he managed to marry a Seneca County, Ohio lass, Rebecca Feasel. 

Rebecca is also related to me through my Feasel line. (My relationship calculator tells me that Rebecca and I are first cousins four times removed which happens to be my relationship to her husband, John, though through a different line.)

Frank Armstrong, who was a double cousin of my great grandmother, Laura Jane Feasel Lynch was also among the pictures that Dee sent. A very stern picture of my great great grandmother, Catherine Good Lynch lay on top of the picture pile. 

My favorite picture in the group is one of my two great grand aunts, Ormena Lynch Pendergraft and Laura Jane Lynch Wetsel taken in 1934. I’ve researched those two ladies for a very long time. I can’t tell you how rewarding it was to see their faces finally, and to see them standing together side by side – amazing!

I am very humble at Dee’s generosity. I don’t think I can ever repay her for this gift. I wanted to say publicly what I have already said privately – thank you, thank you, thank you. 

Until Next Time – Happy Ancestral Digging!

© 18  August 2008, Desktop Genealogist Unplugged, Teresa L. Snyder 

Who Knew

Me - sitting in our living room with my fingers laced, covering my eyes, tiny spaces between each finger open just wide enough so I can see parts of the screen as I am watching the movie “Untraceable.”

My husband shaking his head, “Why did you get this movie, if you knew you wouldn’t be able to watch it?”

“I like Diane Lane,” I say behind the curtain of fingers. 

“Yeah, me too. I hear she told Josh Brolin she’d kick him to the curb, if he didn’t stop drinking.”

Fingers now dropped, I am staring at my spouse, as three rapid-fire thoughts fly through my brain. 

This is the kind of conversation I miss having with female co-workers. And - Who are you and what have you done with my husband. And – Really, she said that to Josh Brolin? 

All of which must have played across my face because then, the perfect man looked at me, shrugged and said simply, “AOL.” Well, okay then. After 19 years of marriage, my husband can still surprise me.

© 16  August 2008, Desktop Genealogist Unplugged, Teresa L. Snyder 

Genea-bloggers Galore!

Wow! When Jasia’s Carnival of Genealogy came to town last week, there were a whopping 39 entries. A Carousel Edition, many of the entries were from newbies to the Carnival.

If that weren’t enough, when the footnoteMaven published this month’s Smile for the Camera Carnival, she had 40 participants who wrestled with the problem of picking their favorite photo. 

Again, there were first time Carnival participants. Kudos to both ladies for giving a forum to genea-bloggers and family historians across the Internet! Thanks for all your hard work!

© 14  August 2008, Desktop Genealogist Unplugged, Teresa L. Snyder 

What's in a Name?

My friends call me Terry, but my real name is Teresa. The story goes that mom wanted to call me Terry, but Dad insisted that Terry wasn’t the proper name for a girl. So, I became Teresa.

 For financial, legal, medical, and employment purposes I am Teresa, for everything else I am Terry. (When I was 10 and decided I was going to be a singing star, I briefly went around signing my name as Tee Tee Brown – mostly on home chalkboards. Alas, my vocal chords did not live up to Tee Tee’s name.) 

My little sister called me Tissy, her toddler contraction for Terry and Sissy. Since this is the sister whose eyes I tried to poke out, I guess I’m lucky she did not call me Evil Fingers. 

When I was very young, my dad would often call me Trish Kalish. He’s the only person that has ever used this particular nickname He stopped using it about the time I went to kindergarten. But when he left me on the steps of Shepherd College's Gardner Hall at the beginning of my freshman year, his parting words to me were, “Bye, Trish Kalish.” I still get all teary -eyed thinking about it. 

I have signed my emails and letters, “TS,” “Ohio Terry,” “Yo Momma” and to one of my stepsons, “Your Evil Stepmother.” (Just say YES?) 

One of my favorite names is “Grandma Terry,” or even better, “Maw T-U, ” which is the name that my eldest grandson , now four, bestowed on me when he was beginning to talk I couldn’t have been prouder or happier with a name. 

 I’ve answered to Sloanie (derived from my maiden name Sloan), Terry Lynn, Babe and even, “Hey, You.”

A hundred years from now, should anybody be interested, I wonder which of my names will survive? When they start poking around in the ashes of my life, will they uncover its secret? That it has been my good fortune to drink deeply from the jug of familial love and that my thirst was quenched.

Until Next Time – Happy Ancestral Digging! 

Written for the 54th Edition of The Carnival of Genealogy

© 14 August 2008, Desktop Genealogist Unplugged, Teresa L. Snyder 

Wordless Wednesday - The Bridge on Lamereaux Road (Huron County, Ohio)

© 13 October 2008, Desktop Genealogist Unplugged, Teresa L. Snyder