Cashman and Clark

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THE ELUSIVE ANCESTOR: HIDING RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY FACE

I know you’re there!  I just need to find a way to find you. - E.B.

The proverbial brick wall can be likened to a nagging headache that continues unabated until it is solved. I don’t know anyone who engages in the business of genealogy, who doesn’t have at least one pesky ancestor, who wandered away from the fold and vanished into the ethers.

There are people who die and are never identified. There are those that vanish by their own volition, change their name and disappear into the crowd, but not very many. Almost everyone has a paper trail. If someone is looking for them, they will be found.

I experienced my first brick wall when searching for a long lost uncle, who boarded a train and eventually lost contact with his family. I remember sitting at my desk day after day, staring at his vital statistics. No one in the family knew what happened to him. No one had a clue. I believed the answer to the mystery was hidden somewhere on that page and indeed it was staring back at like a huge red flag.

My missing uncle served during the Spanish-American War. After some research on military records and a flurry of phone calls, I was able to retrieve a copy of his military pension file. The mystery was solved. The pension file was a road map of his life after he left Northampton, Massachusetts. Affidavits told the story of his travels through the West and his encounter with a stranger, who attempted to steal his identity and his military pension. Most touching was the hospital records that documented the details of his death and the funeral home records that described the suit he was buried in.

At the end of the day, I came to realize that a good working knowledge of resources and well-developed analytical skills are the keys to finding an elusive ancestor. When I consider all of the trial and error internet searches, phone calls to relatives and days spent pouring over the same information, I shake my head. Everything I needed to know was on that tattered sheet of paper.

When confronted by a brick wall, think about other resources that might contain the information you are seeking. As an example, instead of relying on an internet search or census records to locate children, consult the parent’s will or probate record. Research newspapers for obituaries for known family members, which will name next of kin.

Stick with it. Your elusive ancestor is hiding right in front of your face.

Need assistance with your genealogical research? Go to: http://www.eabanasgenealogyservices.com or write to Elizabeth Banas at fh_research@hotmail.com.

I have carried these tidbits with me through my adulthood. I hoped that my visit to the Coolidge Presidential Library might help confirm the stories told by family. -E.B

Last week Geo and I set out for the Calvin Coolidge Presidential Museum and Library in Northampton, Massachusetts. The library and museum are located on the second floor of the Forbes Library in “The Calvin Coolidge Memorial Room,” which is exactly as the name implies. The collection is a small exhibition of artifacts related to President Coolidge, which includes the door from his office on Main Street in Northampton, along with the original furnishings, as well as his personal library, family portraits and campaign memorabilia. Personal possessions, including a pair of cowboy boots and an Indian headdress are among some of the unexpected objects displayed.

I was looking forward to touring the library and museum. However, I had an ulterior motive for my visit.

My ancestors settled in Northampton, Massachusetts in the 1880’s.  Many of the stories passed down through the generations refer to events and local people, whose influence extended far beyond Northampton and the surrounding villages. President Calvin Coolidge was one of those people.

Calvin Coolidge was born in Vermont in 1872. He attended Amherst College and later practiced law in Northampton. He became involved in local politics, served as governor of the State of Massachusetts and was elected vice-president in 1920 under Warren G. Harding. He succeeded Harding in 1923, after his untimely death from heart disease. In 1924, he ran for a second term and was elected President. Despite his successful political career and his tenure in the White House, throughout most of his adult life, he called Northampton home.

For many years, the Coolidges resided in a two family house on Massasoit Street not far from Bay State Village where my grandmother was raised. My grandmother, who had a way of imparting important information, as if it was mundane fare, told me that she and Calvin Coolidge took the same trolley to work. “He never spoke a word to anyone,” she said. “He never looked at anyone. He never said a word.” A politician who didn’t talk to anyone?  How strange. I never forgot that morsel of information.

I have also been told by the grandson of my late great-aunt Julia Foran, that she and her husband John knew the Coolidges through various associations in the community. Though it has been said that they loved Mrs. Coolidge, few words were spoken about the President.  

Another anecdote recounts an encounter between Julia and Mrs. Coolidge the day the president died. Apparently, Mrs. Coolidge frequented the dress shop where Julia worked in downtown Northampton. According to her grandson, Aunt Julia said Mrs. Coolidge came to the dress shop the day the president died.  She gave no hint that anything was wrong nor did she mention the president was ill. When word went out that the president had died later in the day, she was shocked.

I have carried these tidbits with me through my adulthood, wondering if there was any credence to the stories. I hoped that my visit to the library might help confirm the family buzz.

The luck of the Irish was with me that day. It was a slow afternoon at the museum and Julie Bartlett, the library’s archivist was able to spend some time talking to us about the library and the Coolidge family.  I repeated the anecdote about the president’s demeanor on the trolley and she noted that it sounded like him. She also described the events that preceded the president’s death noting that he suffered from a bit of indigestion a few days before he was stricken. Indeed, Mrs. Coolidge was out shopping in Northampton the morning of the day he died. When she returned home later in the day, she found him lying on the bedroom floor-deceased.

Even though I have no tangible evidence Aunt Julia saw Mrs. Coolidge that fateful day, the story coincides with the historical record of what transpired and I cannot confirm my grandmother’s story. However, having driven past the Coolidge home on Massoit Street and noting  it’s proximity to Bay State Village, it is likely that my grandmother saw Calvin Coolidge on the trolley. I have since learned that Calvin Coolidge was known as “Silent Cal.” This is additional evidence of that her story is an honest portrayal of her observations.

Even though these stories coincide with history as it has been written, I will never be able to prove beyond a doubt the authenticity of the narratives. Still, they are interesting tidbits that should be included in a family history, accompanied of course, by a careful explanation of the sources.

I am always skeptical of family stories, but I never discount anything as a flat out lie. I am glad I went the extra mile to try to confirm the family’s tales of the Coolidge family and now that my curiosity has been satisfied, I am thinking about how I might confirm stories about other illustrious historic figures whose names I have heard bantered about for so many years. Researching the Kennedys and James Michael Curley is going to take a little more time.

Sources: 

Wikipedia.  http://www. Wikipedia.org : 2012.

Forbes Library. Calvin Coolidge Presidential Library and Museum. http://www.forbeslibrary.org/coolidge/coolidge.shtml : 2012.

   *I would like to thank James Bills for sharing the muster photo below. I would also like to thank Andrienne Clark for the wonderful newspaper tribute to James "Jimmy" Clark.  Below: Jimmy Clark and Steve Farrell.                                                   

Before there was television and million dollar contracts, there were the Hose Racers. E.A.B.

Since childhood I have heard family discussions about James Clark’s athletic career. He was an energetic, charismatic personality I am told, who died prematurely. He was not a wealthy man.  His legacy was the races he ran and the competitions in which he participated. That said his claim to fame was his association with the W.E. Bailey hose running team.

Jimmy’s life was never easy. He and his twin sister Mary were born in the Cheapside section of Deerfield, Massachusetts on June 23, 1868 to John Clark and Hannah (Madigan) Connors.[1]  Cheapside was a poor, crowded and unhealthy environment to raise a family. The headstones at Old Calvary Cemetery in Greenfield, where countless Irish immigrants are interred, are a testament to the harsh conditions in Cheapside. At the time of his birth, Jimmy’s father was a grinder at John Russell Cutlery. However, sometime after John Russell relocated to Turners Falls, the Clark’s moved to Buckland, where his father found employment at the Lamson & Goodnow cutlery.[2]  In 1883 the family relocated to Northampton, where the family settled into a home in Bay State Village on the corner of Main (now Riverside Drive) and Norwood Street, a stone’s throw from the infamous Clement Manufactory, which employed Jimmy’s father.[3]  On February 26, 1895, he married Mary Ann Cashman. However, the marriage did not dampen his athletic endeavors. [4] Mary Ann was perhaps, one of his strongest advocates.

In the early part of the 20^th century, Jimmy was also employed by Clement Manufacturing, where he worked alongside his father. However, when he was not grinding knives, he was a volunteer fireman at the local station, which was located in the bend in the road at the end of Riverside Drive. Undoubtedly, it was through this association that he was introduced to the W.E. Bailey team.

I must admit that until I began researching Jimmy’s career as a runner, I did not have a clue about hose racers and I was hard pressed to find a satisfactory explanation of the sport. However, a 1913 retrospective, which appeared in the Springfield Daily News, named Jimmy as a team leader and provided a brief explanation of the sport: “In hose racing, they use 15 men on a team. They have to draw a reel that weighs 700 pounds or more, including 250 feet of hose. The men run 100 feet, lay 200 feet of hose, break the coupling and put it on the nozzle.”[5]

“Steve Farrell and James Clark were the leaders of the team. They were the only men that wore harness on the team because they would lead the pace and others would follow. The others did not wear a harness because after running 200 yards they would be all in and drop out.”[6]

The venue for hose running and other firemen’s competition were musters. The musters were carnival like festivities, which often included a parade with fireman decked out in full regalia, food and other forms of entertainment.

Increasingly through the 1890’s, musters were a major entertainment venue and firemen who competed were the equivalent of rock stars. Their performances were widely reported by the media, analyzed at the local watering holes and discussed on street corners.

The events were held all over New England and across the United States.  Interestingly, fireman contests were the first organized athletic competitions in the United States. The contests were so popular the “Paris organizers invited volunteer and professional fireman’s teams to compete at the loosely structured 1900 International Exposition and Olympic games. The Kansas City, Missouri, firehouse won the world’s professional fireman’s championship cup.”[7]

Though I have been told that Jimmy participated in the Olympics in Paris, I have no evidence to support that report.

However, there is evidence that Jimmy Clark was a well-known and well-respected athlete in his own time.  Apart from the many newspapers reports which mention him, a piece that appeared in a local newspaper in 1927, shortly after his death tells the story of Jimmy Clark and W.E. Bailey Hose Runners:

       A friend and admirer of the late James Clark told us the following: “One of the greatest all-round athletes that wore a spiked shoe in Northampton passed on with the death of James Clark of Bay State last week.”

     Two decades ago his fame as an athlete was known wherever field sports were held, not only in Northampton, but all over New England and other states where he went and competed.

     Jimmy Clark, as he was called by his hundreds of friends, was, according to our informant, one of these real sportsmen who were absolutely on the level, his heart was always in his work and he was most loyal to his friends.

    An idea of how good an athlete, he was, may be had from his mark of 6 feet three inches, which he made in the high jump in Philadelphia, winning the event in a national meet in which were intended the best men in the country. He was equally good in the broad jump, hop step and jump and the so-called hitch and kick.

     His fame here in all these sports was great, but it was as a runner that he captured the popular fancy, and it was as leader of the great bunch that composed the never-to-be-forgotten W.A. Bailey’s world’s champion hose running team that he will be best remembered.

     For five years this Northampton running team swept all before them at firemen’s musters wherever they were held. And leading them always was the slender, but sinewy Jimmy Clark. And well he might lead, for he was close to ten seconds for the century everytime he speeded over the 100 yard distance. According to Maurice Landry, who was a close second in all-around sports to Clark, and who also was one of the sprinters on the Bailey team, Clark many times ran the century in 10 seconds. The Bailey running team is holder of the world’s record for 800 feet, which they made at Ware, Mass., and their mark has never been beaten.

     It came to pass at field meets, at least in this section, that when Clark and Landry entered the other athletes withdrew to the sidelines and watched the pair from Bay State do their stuff.

    The break-up of the Bailey running team was almost tragic when, at a cattle show, the team with such runners as Fred Britten of Fairview, one of the star sprinters of the day, teamed with Clark, and with the then holder of the mile record, Tom Carrol, of Boston, as well as, Maurice Landry, Charlie O’Neil, Tom Keneavy, Billy Chatel, Joe Tichy, and other fine runners, they swept down the course away ahead, in time , of any of the others, one of whom was Bailey’s greatest rival, the John H. Ashe team of Chicopee Falls. But disaster that they had evaded come to them, for before over 15,000 people, the late J.A. Boudway, the fastest man who ever broke a coupling, failed for the first time in the team’s history, to make the hitch and the team that for five long years never met defeat, felt its sting for the first time. How much their heart was in their work was attested when many of them broke down and sobbed.

     The team never raced again for various reasons, but to thousands memory will bring back the sinewy boy who so often led them to victory.[8]

     James Clark died on August 22, 1927 of double lobar pneumonia.

Two weeks ago I wrote about Cutler's Lung. I wondered if Jimmy suffered from that condition. While, it appears that the team broke up, I will always wonder if his employment at Clement Manufacturing contributed to his death. I have  in my possession a copy of the Western Union Telegram addressed to Mary Ann from Robert T. Lee, owner of the plant. It states: "Deepest sympathy to you in the loss of Jim whose friendship I will always cherish." Somehow I think it was just another day for Robert Lee. Elizabeth Banas (great-granddaughter)

 [1]     Franklin County, Massachusetts, birth certificate no.45 (1868), James Clark; Town Clerk’s Office, Deerfield. Franklin County, Massachusetts, birth certificate no.46 (1868), Mary Clark; Town Clerk’s Office, Deerfield.

Pity the poor cutlery man! Another breath, closer to death.   

Four generations of men in my family were employed in the manufacture of cutlery at Clement Manufacturing in Bay State Village, a section of Northampton, Massachusetts. Despite the reports about the noxious air quality in the factory, I never linked their deaths to their employment, until I began assembling their vital statistics. It was then, that a pattern began emerge.  All of their deaths related to some form of  lung disease.  

The newspaper archives are filled with obituaries for young men, who worked in the Bay State Village manufactory.  A cousin once told me that an uncle, who had been a cutler at Clement for many years, was told by his physician that the condition of his lungs was similar to a coal miner. My grandmother, the daughter of a cutler, who was raised in Bay State, also commented that there were many deaths due to the cutlery. Her father was one of the casualties.

By chance, while researching for last week’s blog, I happened upon a passage in a book entitled Plagues and Epidemics: Infected Spaces Past and Present.  A chapter entitled “Everyday Mortality in the Time of Plague,” contained a fictional description of a man with a condition referred to as “cutlers lung,” which caused him to cough violently.[1] I wondered if my ancestors deaths were hastened by this condition.

My research led me to an article in The Atlantic Monthly, entitled Occupational Disease and Economic Waste. The article was a discussion of the health risks associated with factory work. One passage spoke to the high rate of Tuberculosis among the cutlery workers of Northampton, Massachusetts. “… the cutlers at Northampton, Massachusetts die from Tuberculosis at four times the normal rate.”[2]  While this statistic is stunning, a letter from a doctor, who examined a cutler post mortem around the turn of the century, was an appalling revelation.

  The following letter, written  five years ago by a physician in a New England Town is more vivid than pages of   figures:-

“I have been in practice in East Douglass since 1863 with the exception of some thirteen years   following 1873. I have seen quite a number of cases of so-called grinders consumption. I have examined one case post mortem. I found the smaller bronchial tubes

thoroughly   filled with grindstone grit; the lung and the lower part looked and felt like the liver after cooking. The symptoms are excessive dyspenea on slight exertion, dry cough, and great prostration.[3]

Short of an autopsy report, a determination cannot be made as to whether or not my ancestors suffered from “cutlers  lung,” ( also known as grinders consumption) but it would seem likely that a human being,  whose lungs are assaulted on a daily basis by metal  particulates, would  suffer damage to his respiratory system and though, I do not have a professional opinion of the state of  the  men’s lungs at the time of their deaths,  a discussion regarding their working environment and its  possible ramifications to their health is an important detail about their life, which I will include in the narrative I am preparing to write.

Taking into account, the details of an ancestors environment, as well as the socio-economic and political forces that were at work in their lifetime affords a better understanding of what shaped their characters, propelled them forward or dragged them downward during their lifetime. Genealogists call it, “placing an ancestor in an historical context.”  Though, we seldom think of ourselves as historians, in truth, that is part and parcel of our occupation. We are keepers of the past, looking toward the future.

*This subject brought to mind my great-grandfather Jimmy Clark, who was cutler by trade and an athlete in body and spirit. He will be the subject of  the next post.

Before there were computers and cyber crimes, there was a wily cowboy named Walter A. Timbrell, who turned the world upside down for an unsuspecting stranger…

There was no reason for Uncle Roger to board a train in Northampton, Massachusetts for Nevada in the early 1920’s. However, he was an adventurer at heart and the West was calling him. His family was sad to see him go and though Roger wrote regularly and returned to Northampton several times over the following three decades, in the last years of his life, he ceased contact with them. Roger’s disappearance from their lives was a mystery that was often discussed among members of my generation.Through Ed Murch, a distant cousin and genealogy enthusiast, I learned that Roger served in the Spanish-American War. It was by way of Roger’s military pension file, I was able to piece together the events of his life and the story of a fateful meeting with a criminal in 1928, who stole his identity in an attempt to collect his military pension.

A military affidavit written in Roger’s hand, places him in Reno, Nevada in January 1928. According to the affidavit, it was there, that he met ex-convict Walter Timbrell. Roger wrote: "Jan.1928. I was living in Reno Nevada. While there I first got acquainted with Walter A.Timbrell, We got to talking, and I told him I was in the War with Spain, he asked, me many questions about my service, where and when I enlisted, in fact all about my enlistment, he even took down notes of what I told I saw him many times for about six months. He told me that he also served, but I never saw his discharge and have no way of  knowing anything about his war service except what he told me." 

In 1930, Roger applied for a military pension. By then, he was residing in Stockton California. The response which was forwarded to Roger’s attorney was stunning. It stated the claim had been rejected and that he was aware of the rejection, by way of a letter sent in 1928 to Walter Timbrell, who served as Roger Cashman.

Timbrell’s bogus pension application filed on 10 January 1928 was among the papers in Roger’s file. Though crafty, Timbrell was not an intelligent man. The phony application contained testimony regarding his personal status. According to his statements, he was married at the time he made the application and was divorced from Ilah P. Crigler of Chadron, Nebraska.

While I was appalled by Timbrell’s gall, I was intrigued that he was capable of conceiving such a scheme. The information regarding his former marriage was all I needed to launch a investigation of him.

I was able to obtain a copy of Criglers petition for divorce, filed 9 August 1899 from the Clerk of Courts in Broken Bow, Nebraska. This document contained intimate details of her marriage to Timbrell. The petition stated: "… that he was a habitual drinker of intoxicating liquors and gambled away all of his earnings,therby being guilty of extreme cruelty to this plaintiff; that since the said defendant so abandoned the plaintiff he has been convicted and sentenced to a term in the state prison of the state of Wyoming , where he is now confined." 

It was apparent to me that Timbrell was no stranger to crime. I queried the Wyoming State Archives and much to my amazement, I received a copy of his inmate file, which included a mug shot, a  physical description of Timbrell, his occupation (rancher) and the reason for his incarceration; the crime of Grand Larceny with a one year sentence at the State Penitentiary in Rawlins, Wyoming. The physical similarity between the two men was so strong, that I wondered if Roger and Timbrell were one in the same.

I was able to put that theory to rest, when I located an obituary for Timbrell, who died in 1941 in Lander, Nevada.

It took years and many hours of Roger’s life to untangle the web Timbrell spun. His pension file is filled with affadavits and letters to the Veterans Administration. In 1947, he enlisted the help of Senator E.P. Carville, who intervened on his behalf. With Senator Carville’s influence, the application was accepted and Roger received a pension of $300 per month. 

The older I get, the more I believe there is nothing new under the sun. Roger’s story of victimization and the many years he spent struggling to regain his identity is as old as time and can be summed up in one sentence.

Once upon a time, before there were computers and cyber crime, there was a wily cowboy named Walter Timbrell, who turned the world upside down for an unsuspecting stranger, who just happened to look a bit like him.

Postscript: I will never know why Roger ceased communicating with his family. However, the military pension file provided letters and affidavits conceived by him and written in his hand. There were details of his life contained in those pages which I am sure were unknown to his family.When he died on 10 March 1955, the many telegrams sent to the family from the Veterans Administration were undeliverable, probably due to the misspellings of names and the lack of complete addresses. His sister Mary, who often spoke of him and cried over his disappearance, died just five days after he passed, never aware of  what became of her brother. A brother-in-law tried to convince Roger’s sister Julia to contact the VA about his disappearance, but she remained resolute in her belief that he would walk through the door any minute. So sad, one phone call may have brought their lost brother home.

For years, I have heard rumors and discussions regarding an alienated line of my family. No one in my line knew what or who caused the feud. However, the animosity between family members was so deep and painful, it seeped into subsequent generations.

Recently I stumbled upon an old deed which revealed a great deal about the relationships within the family of my great-great grandparents, John and Hannah Clark. The deed, which conveyed the family home to Jane, the youngest Clark sibling for one dollar was executed in May of 1895, less than two weeks after the death of Hannah.  It stated in part: “I, John Clark in consideration of one dollar and other valuable consideration, paid by Jane E. Clark, my daughter, of said Northampton, who has lived with and assisted in supporting us…”[1.]

I have a good working knowledge of this family. I know that both Thomas and William Connors, Hannah’s sons by her first marriage, received very little education. Both were working in cutleries at an early age. Thomas was still residing at the family home at the time of her death. It would appear that they contributed to the household for many years. Twins, James and Mary from her marriage to John Clark, also went to work at an early age, ostensibly to contribute to the household. The Connor brothers never attained home ownership. James and Mary were able to buy homes, but much later in life, when their children were nearly grown. I wondered what forces were at work that ledmy great-great grandfather to transfer title of his house to his youngest daughter, while forsaking  the other children, who contributed to the economic stability of the family for so many years. Was there bickering and strife between father and sons? Was he duped by his daughter or infirm? Or was he resolute in the sentiment he expressed in the deed?  I was certain that this was the event that caused the legendary feud, but where was the proof?

I will never be privy to John Clark’s private thoughts or his conversations with his youngest daughter. I will never hear the other Clark siblings tell their side of the story. Though, I strongly believe this singular act may have been the undoing of the Clark’s as a family unit, I will not state my opinion regarding this matter in the narrative I am preparing to write. Personal opinions have no place in sound genealogical research and reporting. At the end of the day, there is no evidence that the transfer of the family home to Jane caused the rift.  

It is human to form opinions and analyze the behavior of others through the prism of our personal experiences. I reread the document several times before I concluded that it was a personal life experience which led me to a premature opinion of what occurred within this family.

My father, who passed away two years ago on January 16^th, made an observation regarding our family history.  He said that it seemed that history was repeating itself; that it was “all happening again.” Considering recent events, he may have been looking into the future when he made that statement.  

I seldom quote scripture, however this verse from Ecclesiastes holds special meaning for me. “What is has already been, and what will be has been before; and God will call the past into account.”  ( Holy Bible, New International Version, Ecclesiastes 3:15).  Dad knew it and I know it, too.

1.     "Hampshire District Recorded/Registered Land,"digital images, Masslandrecords.com (http://www.masslandrecords.com : accessed  28 Dec 2011), Clark to Clark, deed, 16 May 1895, citing Hampshire County, Massachusetts, Deed Book 475:177.

My busy schedule did not allow time for a blog entry this week. However, I have posted vital statistics for the Cashman family of County Cork and Northampton, Massachusetts on my website http://www.cashmanclark.org.

Photos formally on the Cashman page will be replaced in the album on the homepage, as time allows.

Enjoy!

What could be more annoying than to perform a search for an ancestor or relative and find them listed on a family tree with people that have no connection to your family? That is exactly what happened to me. Several years ago, I performed a search on a paid subscription site using my maiden name. My surname is uncommon, if not rare. There are few people who carry this name, who are not related to me.

I expected the search to return results for trees that were published by other family members. It was quite a surprise when the search produced a result for a long deceased aunt on a tree that had been published by a woman in another state, whose name was not familiar to me. At first glance, I thought the compiler must be a relative from a collateral line. Most of the information relevant to my aunt, such as her birth date and her parents’ names was correct. However, the name entered for her husband was incorrect. Furthermore, I didn’t have a clue as to how this person fit into our family. What I did know was that he was never married to my aunt. I wrote an email to the compiler and explained that she was error. She admitted she didn’t know where she got the information. I then notified my aunt’s son, who contacted the tree owner. The erroneous information was removed from the site.

This is not the only instance of mistakes I have found in on-line trees. Despite overwhelming evidence one relative refuses to acknowledge that our great-great grandfather died in Massachusetts. It is certainly easy enough to verify this information. I have personally offered to supply him with documentation. However, he has declined to even look into the matter. Talk about annoying!

Here is the lesson for my newbie genealogy friends: The next time you are searching for an on-line tree that is a match for your family, remember that just because it’s on-line doesn’t mean it is correct information. On-line sites do not require records and facts to be accompanied by evidence or documentation.

One last word to the wise: There are no genealogy police on the internet. Anyone can hijack an on-line family tree and claim it is their own