tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14251914487497677592024-03-13T08:11:44.960-07:00Bob & Debbie's Next BIGGS AdventureBob and Debbie Biggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12866490446167348655noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425191448749767759.post-71710540663933083012016-04-17T09:32:00.000-07:002016-04-17T09:32:19.098-07:00First Annual Redwood Rally in Texas!<br /><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Last month, early March, we attended the first Annual Texas Regional</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> Redwood Rally in Canton, Texas! This was the first of several regional</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> rallies that Redwood RV has scheduled for this year. Then in August,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> Redwood/Crossroads RV will be holding the National Rally in Shipshewana,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> Indiana. We had the blessing of attending the National Rally last summer </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">and look forward to attending again this year!</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The front of the Great Lodge at Mill Creek Ranch Resort.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At Mill Creek Ranch Resort, the sky and clouds in Canton, Texas.......lot of rain!!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The rally in Canton was held at Mill Creek Ranch Resort, a <i>beautiful</i> resort right down the road from where First Monday Trade Days are held. (To those of you who have never attended First Monday in Canton, it is a <i>huge</i> open market, with vendors that are selling anything from food to furniture to tools to arts and crafts items. It is quite an adventure to attend!) The resort has numerous RV sites with full hook-ups. It also has lovely small cottages for purchase or for rent, several small lakes with fishing docks/piers, paddle boats, a large lodge and very sweet concierges and staff!</span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY1M9PNzMgLv12SXZxDChOHmF56tX0rf1PKM-SiDX1ZqH8P1IXW867Rr5tARKgopnp0eqEnkOuAdxFZ2yFte0CCcYx7q30lBp_qprbwL5Vcf2K4GEP-sfm-xtzImv6Pi3JwJ7yXK90KQw/s1600/IMG_20160312_114007411.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY1M9PNzMgLv12SXZxDChOHmF56tX0rf1PKM-SiDX1ZqH8P1IXW867Rr5tARKgopnp0eqEnkOuAdxFZ2yFte0CCcYx7q30lBp_qprbwL5Vcf2K4GEP-sfm-xtzImv6Pi3JwJ7yXK90KQw/s320/IMG_20160312_114007411.jpg" width="180" /></a><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> We were well taken care of by the resort! We were also spoiled a bit by Redwood! We each received a great tee shirt and we were treated to a delicious catered meal ---- from a local BBQ shop (Baker's Ribs) --- OUTSTANDING FOOD!!! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> As you can see, we all enjoyed the BBQ very much, and even had some leftovers for the next day's potluck! Thank you Redwood!! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">A few days prior to the rally, Terry Cooper, The RV Professor, held a 3 day maintenance course that Bob attended. There were 5 other "students" in the class, and each one said that they learned invaluable information. In the class, they had classroom information in the morning and the afternoons were hands-on (at least as much as they could, as we had torrential rains every day, except the day that we left). Since then, Bob has checked numerous things on our rig that he learned about in the class! (Every refridgerator that the class looked at had at least one issue that was able to be fixed ...)</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Certification Time!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We had several excellent presentations given</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">during the rally....... Nino, our area's Redwood representative had a great Q & A, Evan from Explore USA was there to answer questions for us, plus sessions included: the RV's refridgerator, our tires and brakes (thanks Ron!), the electricity in our units.....and even a wonderful presentation by Evada Cooper, The Professor's lovely wife, about the kitchen and cooking in our RV's. The sessions were all lively and fun as well as beneficial.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bob and "The Professor" Terry Cooper, Evada Cooper has her back to us......<br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">World Famous, Y'All!!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We also had plenty of social time, making new friendships. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> For lunch one day we went to Canton's Dairy Palace, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">a fun diner with a vintage feel, and excellent food......</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC8K60d1utkJ4C-hjU6waYGiGLjOHWtd9eyA3mGyr5MMYaqLTRgcpDekHK00qL3ET26uRDY55LocaammNxM_jH6oHJHwotSdO-MwRppkggrlCwyGLYYaBGv5H3GnXR7i1oHzRM4gjZ2yE/s1600/IMG_20160311_124315217_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC8K60d1utkJ4C-hjU6waYGiGLjOHWtd9eyA3mGyr5MMYaqLTRgcpDekHK00qL3ET26uRDY55LocaammNxM_jH6oHJHwotSdO-MwRppkggrlCwyGLYYaBGv5H3GnXR7i1oHzRM4gjZ2yE/s320/IMG_20160311_124315217_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">YUM !!!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">they even had the Texas favorite: Blue Bell ice cream! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We had hoped to be able to a few campfires together, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">but the rain never let up until we left, so we hope to work</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> that in next year!</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blue Bell has its very own counter!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The week went by so quickly! We truly had a wonderful time, as I am sure everyone did. We are looking forward to next year's rally! Our thanks to Redwood/Crossroads RV, Terry and Evada Cooper, Mill Creek Ranch Resort, Baker's Ribs and everyone who did so much to make this first annual rally a success!</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thanks Shelley for sending me this photo! Our Texas Regional Rally crew, minus 2.<br /></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Until next time. . . . . . .</span></div>
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Bob and Debbie Biggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12866490446167348655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425191448749767759.post-65986691211162897202015-08-11T10:05:00.000-07:002015-08-11T10:05:06.188-07:00<br />
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<b style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>REDWOOD RALLY </i></span></b><br />
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<b style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>SHIPSHEWANA, INDIANA</i></span></b></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful Indiana.........Shipshewana is also known as Amish Country</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Hello Dear Family and Friends!!!! As many (or most) of you know, we </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">live in our 5th Wheel Travel Trailer full time. Our 5th Wheel is a Redwood, </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">and this past long weekend, we went to our very first Redwood Rally! We really</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Own Texas Rose at the Rally.......<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My goodness!!! There were just under 70 Redwoods in attendance, and this was only</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">their 4th Annual Rally! Bob and I loved </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">seeing all of the Redwoods lined up and down the lanes! Our friend Dean Landmesser was able to travel along with us, and his Bigfoot Trailer was parked in amongst a forest of Redwoods!</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Redwoods up and down, with the occasional Motorhome in the mix!<br /></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We met some fabulous folks and oodles of new friends. Redwood spoiled</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">us all.....and we all loved it! We were showered with goodies from the company,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">from the </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">campground and from our Redwood Owners Group........ They fed us </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">multiple delicious meals and treated us to minor service repairs on our rigs! We learned</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">about the workings of our slides, our roofs, our fridges, propane, and more!</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Terry Cooper, "The Texas Professor" sharing some insights about our propane that we all have onboard<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: left;"> We also had some "ladies" seminars, setting up and breaking camp and how our kitchens can work </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: left;">for us......learning about induction cooking and convection ovens! Evada, "Lady E" Cooper and her husband, Terry "The Texas Professor" were wonderful</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: left;">"teachers," and I know that EVERYONE came away with new tidbits of </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: left;">knowledge----Thank You Evada and Terry!!!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We have loved our </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Redwood from the very beginning, and having met and listened to the owner, Andy, and GM, Jim, I </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">not only feel as though we have been blessed with our "Texas Rose" (our </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">name for our Redwood), but we have been blessed with more family, our Redwood Family! We have 2 quite wonderful young women who are our own liaisons</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">with the company......Go Christian and Taylor! (They are both full of energy, concern and a true desire to give of themselves, and to go to bat for the Redwood Owners if need be. AND, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">they both give wonderful hugs!)</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taylor is on the left and Christian is on the right----look at those smiles!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The night before the official beginning of the Rally, we had a Ladies' Night Out! We went to a salon in Sturgis, Michigan and had some pampering with manicure and pedicures.......</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">then ended the evening with a </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">delicioso</i><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> meal at Maria's Mexican Restaurant! I had some wonderful Fish Tacos...... (Bob and Dean and I made a return visit to Maria's on Sunday after the Rally!)</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">YUM!!!!!!<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">The campground that hosted us was the Shipshewana Campground, South. The staff</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">here at this campground were <i>fabulous!!!!!</i> They had wonderful</span></div>
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goodie bags ready for each one of the rigs, they worked hard to group us all together</div>
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and did whatever they could to make our stay most enjoyable. Thank you, thank you, thank you for all you did to make our stay comfortable and enjoyable!!!! We had cows and horses</div>
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on 3 sides of the campground ( :-) ), plenty of trees around, and the wonderful</div>
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<i>clip-clop</i> of the horses pulling the Amish buggies down the road was heard throughout the day.</div>
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The sites were grass and gravel, full hook-ups, we had internet available and our Jet Pack worked</div>
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like a charm!</div>
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The sights and sounds around Shipshewana were wonderful! We loved the</div>
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feel of country even in the city, well, town. We saw several farmers (Amish) who were working in their fields with their teams of draft horses---beautiful horses! Some of the Papas were teaching their sons to work the teams..... We saw women and lovely young ladies hanging out wash, working in their gardens, playing with the family dog....... lots of smiles!<br />
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On our next trip there I hope to have a few more days to head to the Cheese and Meat shoppe and the E & S, bulk shopping experience! Not to mention the quilt and fabric shops! We DID get to eat at the 5 and 20 as one of Bob's cousins recommended---delicious! We splurged on a breaded pork tenderloin sandwich......not a sandwich that we can find in Texas......seems to be a Hoosier thing!<br />
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Our Sincere Thanks to Redwood / Crossroads, to our Redwood Owners Group and to the Shipshewana Campground South for making our week such a wonderful experience........You all are <i>THE BEST!!!</i></div>
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We are both looking forward to next year.....AND to our regional Rally in Texas!!!!</div>
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Sending you all hugs and blessings.......</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How beautiful!!!!<br /></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>Till Later . . . . . .</i></b></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sunset over the campground on our first evening there........</td></tr>
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Bob and Debbie Biggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12866490446167348655noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425191448749767759.post-32904279375609003462014-04-28T20:36:00.000-07:002014-04-28T20:36:34.433-07:0052 Week Challenge #13 Ingham Starkey<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>INGHAM STARKEY</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Bob's 3rd Great Grandfather</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">or</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">~Bob's Mother's Father's Father's</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Mother's Father~</span></div>
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Ingham Starkey was born circa 1820 in Ohio,</div>
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possibly Muskingum County, to</div>
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John Starkey and Polly James Starkey.</div>
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There were 9 children that we are aware of</div>
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born to John and Polly Starkey, of which</div>
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Ingham was the 4th eldest.</div>
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Ingham's younger years were spent in </div>
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Ohio, the family moving to Indiana circa 1829.</div>
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Ingham's father, John, died circa 1838-1839, and </div>
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Guardianship papers were filed for Ingham Starkey,</div>
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granting guardianship to John Parker on the 13th of September, </div>
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1839.</div>
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Ingham was soon to find his future wife, Ruelma Rowe.</div>
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( http://bobdebbiebiggs.blogspot.com/2014/02/52-week-challenge-5-ruelma-rowe.html )</div>
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They were married on the 5th of May in 1842</div>
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in Tippecanoe County, Indiana. The ceremony was</div>
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officiated by A. M. Roe, Justice of the Peace.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7HtxU4EBg_vKQqspci4tf5kHAsgoHywnIzfCOR82MWeat7xpKfO74U7CJd99PPQKKzbQ5T8AfNzseF6fJjwjtCLnYN24d65tG0XvwLgoLD0Wn-Npk_XDhzd499t80kUKBXt6ubYDww1A/s1600/MarriageLicense_Starkey,+Ingham+&+Rowe,+Ruelma.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7HtxU4EBg_vKQqspci4tf5kHAsgoHywnIzfCOR82MWeat7xpKfO74U7CJd99PPQKKzbQ5T8AfNzseF6fJjwjtCLnYN24d65tG0XvwLgoLD0Wn-Npk_XDhzd499t80kUKBXt6ubYDww1A/s1600/MarriageLicense_Starkey,+Ingham+&+Rowe,+Ruelma.PNG" height="381" width="640" /></a></div>
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Above is a copy of the Marriage Record for Ingham and Ruelma.</div>
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Ingham and Ruelma were blessed with 3 children, Harriet,</div>
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John W. and Mary Elizabeth or "Lib," as she was called.</div>
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(Bob's line flows through Harriet.)</div>
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Ingham is a Sawyer by trade. A Sawyer was a</div>
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carpenter, or someone who worked with wood.</div>
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One of Bob's cousins, who</div>
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has worked diligently on the</div>
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family genealogy, found what I feel</div>
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is a wonderful</div>
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bit of documentation;</div>
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on</div>
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November 5, 1850</div>
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Ingham Starkey purchased a Bible</div>
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for his wife Ruelma in </div>
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Wyandotte, Indiana for $1.50.</div>
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Ruelma faithfully entered the family's events</div>
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into her treasured Bible.</div>
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What a lovely gift for Ingham to give.</div>
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Ingham and Ruelma did not have many years</div>
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to share together . . . .</div>
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Ingham died at the young age of 33.</div>
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It was Christmas Eve, December 24, 1853 that</div>
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Ruelma entered into her Bible for the date</div>
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of her young husband's death.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxi6obNfiYwRM9aGHX97DkqIR85Av_dncnBwZI2bv6g3Efmwb_0BCeEBGaczTdYkC_KAm1H6C2hHlG7TESJkZdIFBnPp5ts-xdbwppaVwwBGEZ1zVW1eORIzdRAdVEE8BIr53E9c9bLyc/s1600/Memorial_Starkey,+Ingham_Journal+&+Courier_.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxi6obNfiYwRM9aGHX97DkqIR85Av_dncnBwZI2bv6g3Efmwb_0BCeEBGaczTdYkC_KAm1H6C2hHlG7TESJkZdIFBnPp5ts-xdbwppaVwwBGEZ1zVW1eORIzdRAdVEE8BIr53E9c9bLyc/s1600/Memorial_Starkey,+Ingham_Journal+&+Courier_.PNG" height="400" width="258" /></a></div>
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The above article was found in the Lafayette newspaper,</div>
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The Daily Courier, December 27, 1853.</div>
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Below is a photo that is believed to be Ingham Starkey and his </div>
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son John W. Starkey.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDWg_hVe577g8BAE7m8YXnkoqlV0ZaggWl6xF5zPqwA9oq-W_ms9oY1uzDIiJXqnqgVP66_z-8CPSLcQbJi9ihe9CjwJVbtknlk9RjFXAIfZVtv4nrgI5wBxU7WAW1fUf87OxKh-Ktz7g/s1600/Starkey,+Ingham+&+John_edited-1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDWg_hVe577g8BAE7m8YXnkoqlV0ZaggWl6xF5zPqwA9oq-W_ms9oY1uzDIiJXqnqgVP66_z-8CPSLcQbJi9ihe9CjwJVbtknlk9RjFXAIfZVtv4nrgI5wBxU7WAW1fUf87OxKh-Ktz7g/s1600/Starkey,+Ingham+&+John_edited-1.png" height="400" width="321" /></a></div>
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Ingham is interred in Dayton Cemetery,</div>
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in Dayton, Tippecanoe County, Indiana.</div>
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Bob and Debbie Biggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12866490446167348655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425191448749767759.post-75110941414597380842014-04-22T14:52:00.000-07:002014-04-22T14:52:10.955-07:0052 Week Challenge #12 Claus Oscar "C.O." Carlson<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Claus Oscar Carlson</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>(Klas Oskar Carlsson--Swedish spelling)</b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOIST0ff1CephKKE8GDc4ad9bla0vzsPcE2nfWBMfymAxxigVLGHJ1bNnneBrOfL88VcoDZvg-B_1p9nroyz1YOWX0T1iHCWOL94N3QUjgyBSIOmHxKtWEuUAqXSDeNsjk2FT_Xf2yXno/s1600/Carlson_ClausOscar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOIST0ff1CephKKE8GDc4ad9bla0vzsPcE2nfWBMfymAxxigVLGHJ1bNnneBrOfL88VcoDZvg-B_1p9nroyz1YOWX0T1iHCWOL94N3QUjgyBSIOmHxKtWEuUAqXSDeNsjk2FT_Xf2yXno/s1600/Carlson_ClausOscar.jpg" height="320" width="237" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">a.k.a.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>C.O. Carlson</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">or</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Oscar Carlson</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
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Claus Oscar Carlson was my</div>
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Great Grandfather, my</div>
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Mother's Father's Father.</div>
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He was most often called Oscar or C.O.</div>
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Claus Oscar Carlson was born in Oja, Flen,</div>
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Sodermanland, Sweden. He was born on the </div>
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24th of March in 1869.</div>
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Oscar's parents were Karl Erik Eriksson</div>
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and</div>
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Johanna Augusta Andersdotter.</div>
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Oscar was one of 10 children, Karl Johan "Charlie", Elin Augusta,</div>
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Erik Gustaf "Gust", Klas Oskar "Oscar", Anders Axel "Axel", </div>
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August Conrad, Vilhelm Tonnes, Anna Maria, Erika Johanna</div>
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and Olivia Viktoria.</div>
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The family is pictured below:</div>
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Oscar is the young man on the far right.</div>
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The photo was taken circa 1880 in Sweden.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk9fr2J1pAQ3kBE0FX6jOsOQlXRS6urIhn39vhe3mTPC4yUHuCP8GOq4omqGoQqy_pndUMj_rkjrGpWs6QNSupu53zEGckk7WJoGphaWPUvLnbcbMxmPWgQR3LFaLZ4gn3SPLtLcSIkes/s1600/Carlson+Family.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk9fr2J1pAQ3kBE0FX6jOsOQlXRS6urIhn39vhe3mTPC4yUHuCP8GOq4omqGoQqy_pndUMj_rkjrGpWs6QNSupu53zEGckk7WJoGphaWPUvLnbcbMxmPWgQR3LFaLZ4gn3SPLtLcSIkes/s1600/Carlson+Family.jpg" height="466" width="640" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
As children most of, or all of, the children of the family played</div>
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a musical instrument and/or sang. I can imagine that</div>
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it was a lively and joyful household</div>
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I wish that I knew more about Oscar and his sibling's growing up years.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I have been able to find birth and death records, written in the</div>
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original Swedish! I am still looking for</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the marriage record for Oscar and Anna. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Circa 1892, Oscar married Anna Christian Carlsson.</div>
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(<a href="http://bobdebbiebiggs.blogspot.com/2014/03/52-week-challenge-9-anna-christina.html%C2%A0"> http://bobdebbiebiggs.blogspot.com/2014/03/52-week-challenge-9-anna-christina.html </a>)</div>
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Two months to the day before Oscar and Anna's first child was</div>
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born, (June 30, 1893) Oscar left Vadsbro, Sodermanland and on</div>
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July 4, 1893 he boarded a ship in Gothenburg that was</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
bound for America.</div>
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Oscar went to Chicago, Illinois, where a couple of his siblings had</div>
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already immigrated to. Oscar found work, a place to live and made ready</div>
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to receive his little family.</div>
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Within what seemed like 2 long years, Oscar's wife Anna, and their </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
sweet little daughter Ellen Maria Olivia Carlson joined him</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
in Chicago.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Within approximately a 10 year period, 8 of the Carlson siblings</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
had immigrated to America, most living in the Chicago area. Two </div>
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siblings stayed in Sweden, Tonnes and Conrad.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A photo of the "American" Carlson siblings:</div>
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In the back row, from the left: Gust, Axel, Elin and Oscar.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy1cHDPaeX_INLqDafyBvjkk20QXVk481GyfYorZgDZYLWuFWODf1xDQWVOKLHlqRzjdEoDpwLD-4ku3-UHiHpjIsS-6PJGDM_VRzl97AIWaNwO3RglBJqbdWmEvptz4qNQJXxUCkfe08/s1600/Pic_7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy1cHDPaeX_INLqDafyBvjkk20QXVk481GyfYorZgDZYLWuFWODf1xDQWVOKLHlqRzjdEoDpwLD-4ku3-UHiHpjIsS-6PJGDM_VRzl97AIWaNwO3RglBJqbdWmEvptz4qNQJXxUCkfe08/s1600/Pic_7.jpg" height="424" width="640" /></a></div>
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In the front row, from the left: Charlie (he was not able to be there for the photo, so the photographer inserted his image to complete the group), Erika, Anna and Olivia.</div>
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The family was close-knit and gathered frequently, entertaining one another with music, songs and </div>
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plays!</div>
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In this photo below, Oscar is the gentleman in the back row with the violin.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNULmfNkc_4a495cBFMZBLUvMSHm808ydr5-YVQ-ltHDvTN3Pj3pMAR2U5EC8dHQsEzfF4-LTmbgB5UgENVksPNIcpF03dv4PXvsAeCDIpOPIByj1zkUmVH5WP0HMtP7yF03WgyXl8hjk/s1600/Pic_8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNULmfNkc_4a495cBFMZBLUvMSHm808ydr5-YVQ-ltHDvTN3Pj3pMAR2U5EC8dHQsEzfF4-LTmbgB5UgENVksPNIcpF03dv4PXvsAeCDIpOPIByj1zkUmVH5WP0HMtP7yF03WgyXl8hjk/s1600/Pic_8.jpg" height="436" width="640" /></a></div>
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I had mentioned how the Carlson family were all musically inclined . . . .</div>
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When my Great Grandfather Oscar Carlson immigrated to</div>
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America, he paid his way on the ship by playing his violin for</div>
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the entertainment of the passengers.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4TseU74NMtOXUS_oKWkM6yTP-GhkY0qjvglBVlPjwhA88SuVuVuLoqQ0wMqvhtGL6r8T9kuq1wy8ZppwD1SaaOWhjsZyCyMTK7vJUMi-ciGDzDyZti_GfWXR_yQz4xGN0OXtNHlzwOIQ/s1600/Carlson_C.O..jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4TseU74NMtOXUS_oKWkM6yTP-GhkY0qjvglBVlPjwhA88SuVuVuLoqQ0wMqvhtGL6r8T9kuq1wy8ZppwD1SaaOWhjsZyCyMTK7vJUMi-ciGDzDyZti_GfWXR_yQz4xGN0OXtNHlzwOIQ/s1600/Carlson_C.O..jpg" height="400" width="291" /></a></div>
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Oscar was a Foreman in Construction in the Chicago area. </div>
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One time my Grandfather (Evar, the elder son of Oscar and Anna's)</div>
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told of being allowed to "go to work" with his Father.</div>
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Oscar was working on a roof not too far from</div>
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their home. He had Evar climb up the ladder first and asked for a</div>
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hammer . . . . . . Well, Grandpa Evar handed his Father the </div>
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hammer, but let go before Oscar had an opportunity to get a hold</div>
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on the hammer, and the hammer promptly fell on Oscar's head! </div>
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Grandpa Evar was sent on home, and he </div>
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said that was the last time that he was invited to </div>
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"go to work" with his Father!</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiX4HE8FjOC8M9agMx1xuNJevQ_0fn5AGgOEQxMrPf_9VJZmTVvMZg3_6Wmo2LzU8_j86_c7NBW1unuDDFO6oYxNt2WQQdXiIgbSWA07Kb58I_8NbLULFEsssCRDn2pSB5tbm4_QLdLTY/s1600/Claus+Oscar++Carlson+_Anna+Christina++Karlson_0077.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiX4HE8FjOC8M9agMx1xuNJevQ_0fn5AGgOEQxMrPf_9VJZmTVvMZg3_6Wmo2LzU8_j86_c7NBW1unuDDFO6oYxNt2WQQdXiIgbSWA07Kb58I_8NbLULFEsssCRDn2pSB5tbm4_QLdLTY/s1600/Claus+Oscar++Carlson+_Anna+Christina++Karlson_0077.jpg" height="640" width="456" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Oscar Carlson Family.<br />Oscar and Anna seated in front.<br />Back, left to right:<br />Herbert, Ellen, Evar and Florence.</td></tr>
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Oscar and Anna had at least 9 children,</div>
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only 4 of whom, lived to adulthood.</div>
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When Oscar was just over 50 years old, he changed careers.</div>
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He, Anna and their sons Evar and Herbert, moved from Chicago to</div>
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Amber, Michigan, where their eldest daughter had just been widowed.</div>
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Oscar took over the farming of his daughter</div>
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Ellen and her late husband's farmland.</div>
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It was on this farm that both Oscar and Anna</div>
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lived out their days, lovingly cared for by their children. </div>
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Oscar died of Acute Myocardial Failure on the </div>
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8th of April in 1953.</div>
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He was laid to rest in Brookside Cemetery in Scottville, Michigan</div>
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beside his wife Anna and surrounded by their children.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0u0T97ac4etYGn5IOWuD9GBhMAuP-7NmEDueAc5R85dcbbAhjZcwfd0gAr1g9Pthnm7xS3N6GdyZIL3evAJ_nVU29r8JU5N4QISdKyQPmi_Pe3phvbouaB0Ia3thPsjNaBKHltzWO4WU/s1600/Carlson_Claus+Oscar_abt+1952.jpg" height="362" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">C.O. Carlson, circa 1952<br /></td></tr>
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Below is the Obituary that ran in the Ludington Daily News, </div>
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April 8, 1953, Page 5, Column 3.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_21xbLBuNMCg6A5HmYegRygJv-HwIu8ynk_H43UDTPOsWO81jZbxN8phf-AcYlsrRfROwHg2VUMpNMb72t8h7LtlSTmiqLdoftyv4xUM3t9Ai0EV4YTavW_L1FniLXUnbh34ItW4nhQ4/s1600/Obit_Carlson_ClausOscar_Crop.tif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_21xbLBuNMCg6A5HmYegRygJv-HwIu8ynk_H43UDTPOsWO81jZbxN8phf-AcYlsrRfROwHg2VUMpNMb72t8h7LtlSTmiqLdoftyv4xUM3t9Ai0EV4YTavW_L1FniLXUnbh34ItW4nhQ4/s1600/Obit_Carlson_ClausOscar_Crop.tif" height="640" width="208" /></a></div>
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Bob and Debbie Biggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12866490446167348655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425191448749767759.post-38316393296433149372014-04-01T21:13:00.004-07:002014-04-01T21:13:22.673-07:00In Lewisville, Texas For a Bit!<div style="text-align: center;">
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We have been in the Lewisville area </div>
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now for the past month.</div>
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It has been great to spend time with</div>
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family here!</div>
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Plus we get to do fun things like </div>
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take Grizz and Bailey to </div>
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the Vet for their 6 month</div>
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checks . . . . </div>
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Get our dental and physical</div>
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checks . . . </div>
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all fun stuff!!! :-)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-9l8TrOco5ffB64CYbUSuGcxyIhOoQiZ5RHnQRljACGVUQC36_gwCilBd0_Mf_I3zgAADHhoYV60zS_MlxGbrf8SyFx6c_c6cURnXdsqdaYYePjGRZ9jbevJbZ7UO8Dd6sPRp95onsrY/s1600/DSC_0814.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-9l8TrOco5ffB64CYbUSuGcxyIhOoQiZ5RHnQRljACGVUQC36_gwCilBd0_Mf_I3zgAADHhoYV60zS_MlxGbrf8SyFx6c_c6cURnXdsqdaYYePjGRZ9jbevJbZ7UO8Dd6sPRp95onsrY/s1600/DSC_0814.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">We spent a month at a campground that</span></div>
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we stayed in quite a bit when</div>
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we first moved down </div>
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to Texas, Pilot Knoll Campground.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7CKeFycAMyzkQiLx764EXLoB2RGTkelp3JfVylJJjPTR66m3AsHcGidtnRTkIyBTtSrFcBpWN7MZ3eYDJecp0kwxKv5yCaNI_Pi1Sq0XS0c-MJprX-twFQ4ifm6VzO9dpA555yzmVxHQ/s1600/DSC_0836.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7CKeFycAMyzkQiLx764EXLoB2RGTkelp3JfVylJJjPTR66m3AsHcGidtnRTkIyBTtSrFcBpWN7MZ3eYDJecp0kwxKv5yCaNI_Pi1Sq0XS0c-MJprX-twFQ4ifm6VzO9dpA555yzmVxHQ/s1600/DSC_0836.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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We really enjoy it there,</div>
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the sites are large, lots of trees, lake view from most all sites,</div>
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just really lovely.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-mrNLgURZEilTrI_cBwItrSVZZNqwoHHAWQgU0pZ5c1vJjy9N-rDcD9zobqs02ai46eMNf_9Pm9nFxUVTeVtjmQuxxF4Y1VjtiI_ONnlwxMB_IQN0NkwAkO58M62yuWX9EKDK62hsL0I/s1600/DSC_0780.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-mrNLgURZEilTrI_cBwItrSVZZNqwoHHAWQgU0pZ5c1vJjy9N-rDcD9zobqs02ai46eMNf_9Pm9nFxUVTeVtjmQuxxF4Y1VjtiI_ONnlwxMB_IQN0NkwAkO58M62yuWX9EKDK62hsL0I/s1600/DSC_0780.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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Above, Robert has the fire pit ready</div>
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and going . . . .</div>
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Heather, Kevin, Mace and Kaelan</div>
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and Mary Ellen and Kelcy</div>
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were able to come out for the</div>
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evening and we</div>
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cooked "Hobo Dinners" over</div>
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the fire, and rounded it out with </div>
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S'mores! YUM!</div>
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<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje49YrrLDuwg3ArqUWXnlwZzgEdpYNcuwMP-cB2318W1Cj4481amroxqBhvcwrNt-xyBWxBRkcqS7puFCcmG2P6ceXJp_kMYVvR4E89wV5__iCVHtChecUb8DvkE4H5JIgAij4ZE_wU84/s1600/DSC_0789.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje49YrrLDuwg3ArqUWXnlwZzgEdpYNcuwMP-cB2318W1Cj4481amroxqBhvcwrNt-xyBWxBRkcqS7puFCcmG2P6ceXJp_kMYVvR4E89wV5__iCVHtChecUb8DvkE4H5JIgAij4ZE_wU84/s1600/DSC_0789.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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Mace looks like he is telling a story . . . . </div>
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and below, </div>
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KJ and Kev pose for a photo.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9slUwpx3xkhjiLG4brUNiHerpRPvqmSSOSzRGzmBzH9mtW63Q3SSaJPayQ-Tz_bN3KmEXpWw0MaFEql2NgLbxDCgrgKqnVqoTvIJ6O6j5Al4QtzYXr2praOQ13vE8jEZ5M5H6HcALV0E/s1600/20140307_220533_Android%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9slUwpx3xkhjiLG4brUNiHerpRPvqmSSOSzRGzmBzH9mtW63Q3SSaJPayQ-Tz_bN3KmEXpWw0MaFEql2NgLbxDCgrgKqnVqoTvIJ6O6j5Al4QtzYXr2praOQ13vE8jEZ5M5H6HcALV0E/s1600/20140307_220533_Android%5B1%5D.jpg" height="640" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mary Ellen and Kelcy and Mace in the background<br />There was much laughing, of course!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF-hls9-Shmp38tC6Zp_8j1HSVG8WCk3xXCNZTBlIKmD0V2q_F8X4vW_lfglgsgiUx9YCzM7mF5Ouy4ISha13ahOd7prMmC0PkxWcFJI3yprKKpnSDz3g30DLUcTXtm5VbWAn_-1EKrlo/s1600/20140307_222530_Android%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF-hls9-Shmp38tC6Zp_8j1HSVG8WCk3xXCNZTBlIKmD0V2q_F8X4vW_lfglgsgiUx9YCzM7mF5Ouy4ISha13ahOd7prMmC0PkxWcFJI3yprKKpnSDz3g30DLUcTXtm5VbWAn_-1EKrlo/s1600/20140307_222530_Android%5B1%5D.jpg" height="640" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mary Ellen and Kelcy--- we all had a good time!</td></tr>
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We don't get to see MaryEllen and </div>
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Kelcy as often as we would</div>
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like, as they live </div>
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a bit further, </div>
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in North Richland Hills.</div>
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They both have busy</div>
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work schedules . . . . . . . </div>
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(We can relate . . .)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We were just missing Jason</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and family and Derek</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and family. . . . </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Next time!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCCPOFmN9h9odFalrt5hSd4N3S0qYQ2PtWDPAbSIJjHXku6WzEdmvPeoxDtSUWRY0YW8iYLVJYWmt_Em7z5dkpxzAXAUOQu_qhVUAbsnNdqMXumI9YVkGRtPMmEols8kVw8iSnBJpsFOA/s1600/DSC_0781.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCCPOFmN9h9odFalrt5hSd4N3S0qYQ2PtWDPAbSIJjHXku6WzEdmvPeoxDtSUWRY0YW8iYLVJYWmt_Em7z5dkpxzAXAUOQu_qhVUAbsnNdqMXumI9YVkGRtPMmEols8kVw8iSnBJpsFOA/s1600/DSC_0781.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
We also had the treat of being able </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
to go to another Track Meet!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
This Meet was one of Mace's ----</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
his very first in fact!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Mace throws Discus for his track </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
team.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGDHmUSOpJafscy1AYUnqHnCyv8mr6RYibfLQ-lR0TIkxMkctKcaAwBtZcansm88JjQNy3G0qqZdQrTIm9yLRJ0udY9gzurEYI0xZ4mBCoLIl7LhiM8EmlkzSYOcbBg5fJIN62jp35rYY/s1600/DSC_0913.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGDHmUSOpJafscy1AYUnqHnCyv8mr6RYibfLQ-lR0TIkxMkctKcaAwBtZcansm88JjQNy3G0qqZdQrTIm9yLRJ0udY9gzurEYI0xZ4mBCoLIl7LhiM8EmlkzSYOcbBg5fJIN62jp35rYY/s1600/DSC_0913.JPG" height="640" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"The Wind-up"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF5RkNgNf8fgITBqXAu8qpcfF6NZmviowFWWtoKvkadxjsyhZkeHcz7XUkQmD9anZ1sdgXHq9j6Drkodm4vflBDiImFiAFggvVQ6AwzPGOZzLuqJRsGMwWJlB9nCVtCQ2i2kadUVjO04I/s1600/DSC_0927.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF5RkNgNf8fgITBqXAu8qpcfF6NZmviowFWWtoKvkadxjsyhZkeHcz7XUkQmD9anZ1sdgXHq9j6Drkodm4vflBDiImFiAFggvVQ6AwzPGOZzLuqJRsGMwWJlB9nCVtCQ2i2kadUVjO04I/s1600/DSC_0927.JPG" height="640" width="312" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mace does 2 "wind-ups" and on the 3rd time,<br />he throws</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIclY1nlXLIoKI4xMpNGdjiSpFGBoX__uWuIkYhHClRS8rmYGbque9rQwuDrLbYvmneV9brdsvnXUXFpear4aIyqY6WJVSJLw-66ppCyboMBaQYxYgPbfV_04dMG3dkVIdj6JbJwXoW1Y/s1600/DSC_0936.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIclY1nlXLIoKI4xMpNGdjiSpFGBoX__uWuIkYhHClRS8rmYGbque9rQwuDrLbYvmneV9brdsvnXUXFpear4aIyqY6WJVSJLw-66ppCyboMBaQYxYgPbfV_04dMG3dkVIdj6JbJwXoW1Y/s1600/DSC_0936.JPG" height="640" width="226" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Above, when he threw the discus, his glasses came up onto his forehead!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Power!</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrlID401WVQRDgqqVoJYza2y4vW0L7QfND0Uta76Fn4WUhYTPucrLrh4pm6c_4t-W38nnVl2g4sVUIFqxsOpogIWKdmbPkWlcHnnr4bBI0XbalqI6I0I-K9s1wbeARTG2tuWLq2-gtCCI/s1600/DSC_0946.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrlID401WVQRDgqqVoJYza2y4vW0L7QfND0Uta76Fn4WUhYTPucrLrh4pm6c_4t-W38nnVl2g4sVUIFqxsOpogIWKdmbPkWlcHnnr4bBI0XbalqI6I0I-K9s1wbeARTG2tuWLq2-gtCCI/s1600/DSC_0946.JPG" height="640" width="296" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Checking his throw distance</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Mace took 4th place in the Meet and</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
came in 3rd place for his team.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Pretty good for his first time!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg-tJOoqOMw3sXVUGa5MLfJwWDnZ9swwlazQK_OgPqzSlC8zaL9itLBbT7Jh2kdF3ndmQRnyi4SXNfhkBxZBvq42X9WSmYnvbM59xn-Nt0XHRgH_YxlWvRMH0RvLs4WZNRpxeGgCi6pjM/s1600/DSC_0936+close+up.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg-tJOoqOMw3sXVUGa5MLfJwWDnZ9swwlazQK_OgPqzSlC8zaL9itLBbT7Jh2kdF3ndmQRnyi4SXNfhkBxZBvq42X9WSmYnvbM59xn-Nt0XHRgH_YxlWvRMH0RvLs4WZNRpxeGgCi6pjM/s1600/DSC_0936+close+up.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Mace is in 7th grade now. He </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
is taking all the pre-AP classes that he can.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
He is in his 2nd year of playing viola</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
in his school's orchestra. (He has improved</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
so much since last year, and he loves it!)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
He is the grandchild who used to</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
say "Grandma, do you have any</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
music without words. . . .</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
you know, like a soundtrack to</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Lord of the Rings"!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(He is also the one who knew that I would </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
love the PianoGuys!)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
He loves school, loves reading, researching</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and has been working on writing</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
his own "Marvel" type comic strip.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGricCK6jPDcry_0al9EqRtOHsNioL70BZnT9IaEbkovtIaW-H6PLYRhwg_dGPRgBqSe5j19MYFYOyMSIYKUd6luXcEWYhg4kN0quiJjMA5Y_hnfUFnSVjxgA1vavfcFDNUCRE8zS4188/s1600/DSC_0863.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGricCK6jPDcry_0al9EqRtOHsNioL70BZnT9IaEbkovtIaW-H6PLYRhwg_dGPRgBqSe5j19MYFYOyMSIYKUd6luXcEWYhg4kN0quiJjMA5Y_hnfUFnSVjxgA1vavfcFDNUCRE8zS4188/s1600/DSC_0863.JPG" height="320" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Kaelan is in 1st grade. He loves school, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
adores his teacher (Heather said that</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
she learned early in the year not to</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
challenge anything that his teacher said!)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
cannot read enough!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
He is still a lover of cars of all sorts,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and planes. He knows most cars</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and planes on sight . . . .</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
he is quite the gamer---playing racing games!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
He is energy incarnate!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
He talks non-stop . . . . Gramps says you can</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
tell when KJ (his nickname) is asleep . . . </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
he is quiet!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
KJ is also a lover of music, but tends to</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
go for "Mom's Music"---rock. :-)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
He loved the song "What Does the Fox Say"! </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWZjlt-0YsdgP2kNc3afrsZfXIpgpGMa-4Md-Jse9zCENpUpfmJc6ElpuZnFm-brMHmVfJ2ytmok5tnrQDTVwkXP5Bbu78L0v4ouzyaKibxMgUSCCSLgsk3_AFdczsLQiBN1V4Yf2D1Wo/s1600/DSC_0796.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWZjlt-0YsdgP2kNc3afrsZfXIpgpGMa-4Md-Jse9zCENpUpfmJc6ElpuZnFm-brMHmVfJ2ytmok5tnrQDTVwkXP5Bbu78L0v4ouzyaKibxMgUSCCSLgsk3_AFdczsLQiBN1V4Yf2D1Wo/s1600/DSC_0796.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Good-bye from Texas. . . . . </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Till Later, Y'all!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Bob and Debbie Biggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12866490446167348655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425191448749767759.post-13138915291223213112014-04-01T19:37:00.000-07:002014-04-01T19:37:17.651-07:0052 Week Challenge # 11 Edith Esther Koup<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Edith Esther Koup (Coup) Stetler</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Edith Esther Koup</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
was Bob's Father's Mother's Mother,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Bob's Great Grandmother Stetler.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I find it difficult to write a bit of a bio for someone</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
whom I know little about.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
That is where I find myself this evening.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I have Edith's</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
date of birth,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
her date of marriage,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
her date of death</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the pertinent census records,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and yet I feel as </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
though I really do not have </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
much of a feel for <i>who </i>she was . . . . .</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
There have been no family stories</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
that have been passed down</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
about Edith, to color in the facts a bit,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
making her come a bit more alive.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Just recently, I found Edith's</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Obituary . . . .</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
At last, a teeny tiny glimpse of this </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
dear woman from whom</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
my husband descends!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Edith Esther Koup was born to </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
George W. Koup and Letitia Patrick </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
in March of 1835.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The Koup family was in Pennsylvania</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
at the time of Edith's birth, and had perhaps even</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
begun their westward travels</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
to Rossville, Clinton County, Indiana.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Edith had at least 8 brothers and </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
sisters, and was the eldest </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
daughter.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Edith grew up in Rossville with her siblings.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A gentleman by the name of </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Simon Peter Stetler </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
came into Edith's life in the mid-1850's.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Simon and Edith were married in </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Clinton County on the 24th of </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
September in 1854.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Edith and Simon lived most of their </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
married lives in Howard County, Indiana, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
moving to Tippecanoe County, Indiana</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
prior to 1895.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The 1900 U.S. Federal Census states that </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Edith had 12 children, and that in </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
1900, 7 of those children</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
were yet living.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Four of their little babies died</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
very young,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
leaving a mother</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and father with breaking </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
hearts.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
In April of 1895, Edith became a widow, losing her </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
husband of 41 years.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Twenty one years later, Edith passed away, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
stepping from this life into life eternal</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and the open arms of her Lord.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Edith died March 3, 1916 in Independence,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Fountain County, Indiana at the home of </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
her son, Oscar Stetler.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfjN7olblTme2usi8uMl5A7nG6NkxlNjaws7kCaiNGGzxZih5YyHCSmq6FXwxJQ6X09G-VIEaZBJG1J2C0J9hvjetO2UbG9AKvlL19MfuWJBIJBnpNVRFOvYN-y3FMYlXGBipYwZhPyXs/s1600/Obit_Stetler,+Edith+Koup.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfjN7olblTme2usi8uMl5A7nG6NkxlNjaws7kCaiNGGzxZih5YyHCSmq6FXwxJQ6X09G-VIEaZBJG1J2C0J9hvjetO2UbG9AKvlL19MfuWJBIJBnpNVRFOvYN-y3FMYlXGBipYwZhPyXs/s1600/Obit_Stetler,+Edith+Koup.PNG" height="320" width="220" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Above is the Obituary for Edith Esther Koup Stetler.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It ran in the Williamsport Review Republican</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
on March 9, 1916, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
on page 4 and column 4.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Bob and Debbie Biggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12866490446167348655noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425191448749767759.post-55790812013925580262014-03-25T09:23:00.000-07:002014-03-25T09:23:42.857-07:0052 Week Challenge: #10 Etta E. "Ettie" Flood <div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Etta E. "Ettie" Flood</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Ettie Flood was my paternal Great Grandmother.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The Mother of my Father's Mother.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
As a family, we know very little of Ettie, we know of</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
no photos of her. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Her story is short, but fraught with pain and</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
heartache.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Little Ettie was born at home in August of 1867.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Home was in Lake County, Ohio and her parents were</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Franklin Flood and Jerusha Kirby Flood.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I learned from her father's Military Pension</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
file that her Grandmother, Julia Ann Rossman Kirby</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
attended her birth. (Julia was said to be a nurse in the</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Military Pension file of her son, Oscar.)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Ettie had one sibling, a brother,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Eugene Franklin Flood, who was about 10 years her junior.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Ettie's father, Franklin, had fought in the Civil War</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and was wounded at the battle of Rocky Faced Ridge, losing</div>
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about 2 inches from one of his legs. The injury</div>
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never healed properly, and Franklin soon found himself</div>
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in the Dayton National Home for Soldiers.</div>
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Franklin died on the 14th of February, 1880. Ettie</div>
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was just 12 years old, and her brother just 2.</div>
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In the 1880 United States Federal Census, Ettie and Eugene</div>
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are not listed with their mother, and I have not found them</div>
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living with neighbors or relatives as of yet.</div>
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What a difficult time for this little family. The pension that</div>
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Jerusha received was very small, making day to day life</div>
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quite difficult for them.</div>
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I find Ettie next in marriage records.</div>
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On the 25th of February in 1885, Ettie married</div>
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John Purtell/Purtil. She was just 17 years old.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ5SnCq6moJLIPhfu-u_UegOhm3I9kl5gT_ibn4S_v3LUNt-FD7qYD0-vwiA7TF61e9gJjSrHWuMav9Nk_VGKmE7Zn_Tf9CbUDDVMBFLDAvaYv_Cx8pLk6lbg1gDTVEwAgXRm1ge_XtFE/s1600/MarrCert_Flood,+Etta+&+Purtil,+John.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ5SnCq6moJLIPhfu-u_UegOhm3I9kl5gT_ibn4S_v3LUNt-FD7qYD0-vwiA7TF61e9gJjSrHWuMav9Nk_VGKmE7Zn_Tf9CbUDDVMBFLDAvaYv_Cx8pLk6lbg1gDTVEwAgXRm1ge_XtFE/s1600/MarrCert_Flood,+Etta+&+Purtil,+John.jpg" height="512" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The marriage documents (left side) for John Purtil and Etta Flood.</td></tr>
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With the help of a very sweet volunteer in Painesville, we</div>
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found that Ettie and John divorced in December of 1895.</div>
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I have a copy of the divorce file.</div>
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Ettie filed, and won the case, retaining the right to </div>
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return to her maiden name. She filed for gross</div>
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neglect. John had ceased to care for her, and she charged him</div>
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with drunkeness, he had stopped working and had lost all that </div>
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they had. She had begun to rely on her own family for sustenance.</div>
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(Information from the divorce file.)</div>
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In January of 1896, on the 16th, Ettie Flood married</div>
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William H. Gaffney, my Great Grandfather, the son of Patrick H. Gaffney</div>
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and Julia Maria Mosher Gaffney.</div>
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They were married at home (most likely the Gaffney/Mosher home) in</div>
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Leroy, Lake County, Ohio. The Reverend R. J. Hibbard was the</div>
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officiating minister.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZUGawbqcTkfFSwpFZjVH64PCPZWL99nMrhZuWvRzZmOMM-MfMujHC1iahKS_ngYCdZ2mhL3ExrIyQtsE4YyH_-7qPAOzLFl4_-jhrHCYSoDKjhi8MFx1wN1865NdN2euR1cDx6zdOkZs/s1600/MarriageLic_Gaffney,+William+&+Flood,+Etta.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZUGawbqcTkfFSwpFZjVH64PCPZWL99nMrhZuWvRzZmOMM-MfMujHC1iahKS_ngYCdZ2mhL3ExrIyQtsE4YyH_-7qPAOzLFl4_-jhrHCYSoDKjhi8MFx1wN1865NdN2euR1cDx6zdOkZs/s1600/MarriageLic_Gaffney,+William+&+Flood,+Etta.PNG" height="640" width="416" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The marriage documents for William Gaffney and Etta Flood</td></tr>
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William and Ettie had 4-5 children between 1897 and 1903.</div>
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Two of these babies died at birth,</div>
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Katie Estell died in her infancy, only 2 months old</div>
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and little Frances lived a bit longer,</div>
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but was not yet a toddler, being very young when she died.</div>
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Only one of their children lived to adulthood,</div>
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my Grandmother, Evelyn Frances Gaffney, born in 1902.</div>
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How heartbreaking, to lose so many sweet little babies . . . . .</div>
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The end of May in 1904, Ettie became ill. She</div>
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had Grip, or La Grippe. Merriam-Webster Dictionary (online)</div>
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says of grip: "grippe: an acute febrile contagious disease . . . . . Influenza."</div>
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In a few days, Ettie was dead, leaving a </div>
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grieving and heartbroken husband and a little 2 year old</div>
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who didn't really quite know where her Mama was.</div>
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(A note here: my Grandma said that her first recollection was</div>
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not really a memory, but a sense . . . . . a sense of deep sadness.)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjILf17evvZ9WXK6aPO8vkzk2fBf4ismckFj0GCKIiYL2Sy31i1UdwCDrqXhgX1ZBOZc24Hcix3-kVU_XKgdXmEEZPx1s_UC80EZqn9IKY1NPfSeTOfPAX1Pq0_C7N3UJIQD2zAU7xz6w/s1600/Obit_Flood_Etta(Gaffney)_PainesvilleTelegraph_1904-6-2pg1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjILf17evvZ9WXK6aPO8vkzk2fBf4ismckFj0GCKIiYL2Sy31i1UdwCDrqXhgX1ZBOZc24Hcix3-kVU_XKgdXmEEZPx1s_UC80EZqn9IKY1NPfSeTOfPAX1Pq0_C7N3UJIQD2zAU7xz6w/s1600/Obit_Flood_Etta(Gaffney)_PainesvilleTelegraph_1904-6-2pg1.jpg" height="335" width="400" /></a></div>
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Grandpa Will buried Grandma Ettie in Evergreen Cemetery</div>
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in Painesville, Lake County, Ohio.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh499kI5ggBk-yPuAHwp0QyjjTWB2VDC-j3j1LJNCTqZqEVtykQE9ZG54nL6ySNrArMqOnrdOjmdU-1qeTg9oY23eOeiBG-Z0-XR0gmiCeRfoCJVPPLVRMsTasDlRkZEJN6imcJgn0nxRM/s1600/Obit_Flood_Etta(Gaffney)_PainesvilleTelegraph_1904-6-9pg8c4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh499kI5ggBk-yPuAHwp0QyjjTWB2VDC-j3j1LJNCTqZqEVtykQE9ZG54nL6ySNrArMqOnrdOjmdU-1qeTg9oY23eOeiBG-Z0-XR0gmiCeRfoCJVPPLVRMsTasDlRkZEJN6imcJgn0nxRM/s1600/Obit_Flood_Etta(Gaffney)_PainesvilleTelegraph_1904-6-9pg8c4.jpg" height="325" width="400" /></a></div>
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Perhaps the Lord felt it was time to relieve Ettie from the pain of loss,</div>
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. . . . time to hold her close, perhaps for her to hold her</div>
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babies and to give her</div>
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eternal comfort.</div>
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1425191448749767759" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnvGNMbjaZQ1gFn_XVrjQCiNuASXpnKmt6zB9FKqkGHer8XR244mEk4vRbzj0U7L683-HzxHKlmhFVSkxUXDxdcrqAJWq8V5y0UucSxcNtRXN2jBh4R4QkhloPx2BR3oeLrN75cdVFGME/s1600/CemeteryPhoto_Gaffney_EttaFlood_taken+by+Brad+Campbell.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnvGNMbjaZQ1gFn_XVrjQCiNuASXpnKmt6zB9FKqkGHer8XR244mEk4vRbzj0U7L683-HzxHKlmhFVSkxUXDxdcrqAJWq8V5y0UucSxcNtRXN2jBh4R4QkhloPx2BR3oeLrN75cdVFGME/s1600/CemeteryPhoto_Gaffney_EttaFlood_taken+by+Brad+Campbell.jpg" height="432" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Q_eRqWk2tZHcv2NBaMrFwMKkOxPNl8tAIubCtiIsJiDXUuzVyBNpFYdspkO9kJapqNDxFSXivr16eW0OE97pBwsYh8PtoGICVPlWPFxoux5PHtjrHzXLY_nIiZNbFjMDyd4U-OzLxEY/s1600/CemeteryPhoto_GaffneyEttaFlood2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Q_eRqWk2tZHcv2NBaMrFwMKkOxPNl8tAIubCtiIsJiDXUuzVyBNpFYdspkO9kJapqNDxFSXivr16eW0OE97pBwsYh8PtoGICVPlWPFxoux5PHtjrHzXLY_nIiZNbFjMDyd4U-OzLxEY/s1600/CemeteryPhoto_GaffneyEttaFlood2.jpg" height="255" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two of Ettie's very cute Great Great Grandchildren visiting her grave site in Ohio.</td></tr>
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Bob and Debbie Biggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12866490446167348655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425191448749767759.post-32584693218901917552014-03-18T14:22:00.000-07:002014-03-18T14:22:23.328-07:0052 Week Challenge # 9 Anna Christina Carlsson Carlson<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Anna Christina Carlsson</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Anna Christina was my Mother's Father's Mother.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Grandma Carlson.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Anna was born on the 28th of August</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">in 1870. She was born to</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Carl Johan Carlsson and Johanna</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Charlotta Petersson.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Carl and Johanna were living in </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Sankt Nicolai, Nykopings, Sodermanland,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Sweden.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBcqE7gRl7dXeERXS34POkXw9G0y71wTy1sn8n7OtmnabNVpENzydq7hHU82lpIBj4bKdTmhCr6FQd4LKkS-VXR2JXKjn4DDh4nwWcaIFamd9r2vP1s7TyYzR2FdBn4M6OC4fVT5Nnuk4/s1600/Anna+Christina+Carlsson+Record+of+Birth.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBcqE7gRl7dXeERXS34POkXw9G0y71wTy1sn8n7OtmnabNVpENzydq7hHU82lpIBj4bKdTmhCr6FQd4LKkS-VXR2JXKjn4DDh4nwWcaIFamd9r2vP1s7TyYzR2FdBn4M6OC4fVT5Nnuk4/s1600/Anna+Christina+Carlsson+Record+of+Birth.PNG" height="158" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is a screen shot of Anna's Record of Birth. It is written in Swedish, and the writing is faint in<br />some spots. Anna is the 2nd listing, and her parents' names are the 3rd and 4th listings right across from her name,<br />under the heading: Forsamling.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Anna had 2 elder brothers that we</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">know of, but more research is needed</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">on the family during the 1800's in Sweden.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">(How I wish I knew how to say more than</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Good Day," "Welcome," and "I Love You!")</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Anna married Klas Oskar Carlsson in Sweden</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">circa 1891-1892.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I have not found the record for their marriage</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">as of yet.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Shortly after their marriage, Klas Oskar (known as</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Claus Oscar, Oscar or C.O.) immigrated</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">to America---to Chicago, where he had several</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">siblings who had already immigrated. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Klas Oskar immigrated in 1893, found work and </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">secured a place for the family to live, and</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">sent for his wife, Anna, and their tiny </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">daughter, Ellen Marie Olivia.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Anna came to America with little Ellen, who was </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">not quite 2 when they left Vadsbro in Sweden </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">on the 20th of April in 1895.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHouIUjsk6rUEvv6TsUDRaBgWjj41wgELqUnexvKdR8oEvx8cIScs-QTF4m_5Diu16ko-JhIb8OnpEP9WBUwBdLOVsBFw2wB-vPZBpjvQocGVIOG53lH6x0r54V94WR_-fIn-Q9Yebvpo/s1600/Image281.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHouIUjsk6rUEvv6TsUDRaBgWjj41wgELqUnexvKdR8oEvx8cIScs-QTF4m_5Diu16ko-JhIb8OnpEP9WBUwBdLOVsBFw2wB-vPZBpjvQocGVIOG53lH6x0r54V94WR_-fIn-Q9Yebvpo/s1600/Image281.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo taken circa 1895</td></tr>
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In the photo above, </div>
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Anna Christina and Ellen Marie Olivia Carlson, just before</div>
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joining Klas Oskar in Chicago.</div>
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Anna and Oscar Carlson (Americanized names)</div>
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had at least 8 children. Only 4 of their children lived to </div>
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adulthood: Ellen, Florence, Evar (my grandfather) and </div>
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Herbert.</div>
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Edwin was 5 years old and playing by the side of the</div>
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curb of the road, and was kicked in the head by</div>
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the horse of the milkman. He died soon after.</div>
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Olga and Rudolph were twins.</div>
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Rudolph died of pneumonia before he was 1 year old.</div>
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I believe that Olga died of Scarlet Fever.</div>
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Aunt Ellen remembered there being a black </div>
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wreath on the door as a notice to others.</div>
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And the baby of the family, little Esther, died before</div>
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she was 1 year old, again of pneumonia.</div>
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How difficult for Anna and Oscar, the death of</div>
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even 1 child is beyond traumatic, but they lost 4 within </div>
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a very few number of years.</div>
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In the mid 1920's, Anna and Oscar moved north,</div>
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to Amber Township in Mason County, Michigan. </div>
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Their eldest daughter, Ellen, had just suffered the loss of </div>
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her husband, and his mother, with Ellen being </div>
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the care-giver to both. Ellen had lost a great deal of</div>
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weight, and her health was at risk, so her family, including her</div>
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younger brothers, Evar and Herman came north</div>
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to help out on the farm that she lived on.</div>
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The Techloff Farm became the Carlson Farm, </div>
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Old Homestead.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOiRdzW8pph4SyorPdL2b18kEZCp8hos37qZV78AoO0-pmQQAH5n9YfEykHzxmqEYQhNFa_uSlcDQEE8cjGCMOSrXd3OBVPPOv5WCY07iAPlYNmaGA7_KDH9psharKFCv-VcpoBAfuV5w/s1600/Image552.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOiRdzW8pph4SyorPdL2b18kEZCp8hos37qZV78AoO0-pmQQAH5n9YfEykHzxmqEYQhNFa_uSlcDQEE8cjGCMOSrXd3OBVPPOv5WCY07iAPlYNmaGA7_KDH9psharKFCv-VcpoBAfuV5w/s1600/Image552.jpg" height="246" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo of the Carlson Farm, ca. 1970. Old Homestead is painted on the barn.</td></tr>
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Anna was a very social person, involved in her church</div>
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and with the Ladies Aid groups there, as well</div>
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as in her community.</div>
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Throughout her life she kept in close contact with her </div>
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family back home in Sweden, as well as her</div>
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family in Chicago. Family was of utmost importance </div>
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to her.</div>
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Anna loved to laugh, and to have a good time . . . .</div>
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passing that joy along to her children </div>
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and the generations that follow.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJdQiYtW5KNKqVYtifcYZwYnP_rClbZGSjiLJDMBZqRhc9KE5oylk-AevbOWODX8v_lRGy-62OYeFSmd0GwOo6_Ijfv3da2yelLwuA1B2DSEEiF8RzbZQyehoWJbTuQhyphenhyphenTqyLI-AWBR30/s1600/Grandpa+Evar+and+Grandma+Carlson+his+Mama+at+the+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJdQiYtW5KNKqVYtifcYZwYnP_rClbZGSjiLJDMBZqRhc9KE5oylk-AevbOWODX8v_lRGy-62OYeFSmd0GwOo6_Ijfv3da2yelLwuA1B2DSEEiF8RzbZQyehoWJbTuQhyphenhyphenTqyLI-AWBR30/s1600/Grandpa+Evar+and+Grandma+Carlson+his+Mama+at+the+.jpg" height="640" width="454" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A photo of Anna and her son Evar at the World's Fair in Chicago.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSIdhoH4qXsT6xtIyJMcFkGTdZgMjwtxAgJ7v-0ZDRRl2rhB3C5O6gfS1qQMqedZK85Gdei4feGXgbRAiBSPYWd6dkbJ_f9NBYXetzegwUoKs8zOkEtcfCTK28EegKG5cwglXZEAHWPiQ/s1600/Claus+Oscar++Carlson+_Anna+Christina++Karlson_0077.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSIdhoH4qXsT6xtIyJMcFkGTdZgMjwtxAgJ7v-0ZDRRl2rhB3C5O6gfS1qQMqedZK85Gdei4feGXgbRAiBSPYWd6dkbJ_f9NBYXetzegwUoKs8zOkEtcfCTK28EegKG5cwglXZEAHWPiQ/s1600/Claus+Oscar++Carlson+_Anna+Christina++Karlson_0077.jpg" height="640" width="454" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Carlson family.<br />In the front, seated, Oscar and Anna.<br />In the back, from the left: Herbert, Ellen, Evar and Florence.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Anna Christina Carlsson Carlson died on the 9th of March, 1937.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The cause of death was Chronic Vascular Hypertension and</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Auculer Fibrilation causing a Cerebral Hemorrage (information</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">from Anna's Certificate of Death).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Anna is buried beside her husband, Claus Oscar</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">and their family in Brookside Cemetery </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">in Scottville, Michigan.</span></div>
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Bob and Debbie Biggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12866490446167348655noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425191448749767759.post-25677341392632239542014-03-12T10:04:00.000-07:002014-03-12T10:04:09.297-07:00Life in Our 5th Wheel . . . .<div style="text-align: center;">
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Bob and I will mark our 9th month of</div>
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living in our RV this month.</div>
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We often get asked if we are</div>
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"still enjoying it."</div>
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Yes, yes and yes!!!!</div>
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We are so grateful for the opportunity to make </div>
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this decision . . . . .</div>
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It fits us just right.</div>
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Family ~ Ah, family! One of God's greatest gifts!</div>
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We have been able to spend much more</div>
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time with our children and grandchildren . . . . </div>
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we will be going to Indiana this spring to spend</div>
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time with Bob's Mom, without having to turn around and</div>
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head home because of work.</div>
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We look forward to spending time with </div>
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family that is scattered hither and yon in this</div>
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amazing country . . . . .</div>
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and to be able to see friends that we have</div>
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not had the opportunity to see in way too long!</div>
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We have been able to slow down, </div>
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and live at a less stressful speed, to enjoy</div>
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the moments that each day brings.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx0Wj6JD1gNIddUBTsLyHN9NRYyylLC13PeOtacDdwTh1g_mgHLpb5Ixkj8XzAwg5cYhrjUapNECVEgeExy-3SXHHHXgVTDxm-v3x24b4dalEY1Z4yTFJzmwkKKyn60JDivhHhwAirJhM/s1600/DSC_0399.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx0Wj6JD1gNIddUBTsLyHN9NRYyylLC13PeOtacDdwTh1g_mgHLpb5Ixkj8XzAwg5cYhrjUapNECVEgeExy-3SXHHHXgVTDxm-v3x24b4dalEY1Z4yTFJzmwkKKyn60JDivhHhwAirJhM/s1600/DSC_0399.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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As far as living in a small space, we really do </div>
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enjoy it. I still cook, we eat out less. And who</div>
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can beat a meal cooked out over a wood fire???? (In the photo above,</div>
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I am making hash browns with onion and jalapeno</div>
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to be added to Migas that I was making</div>
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for breakfast. Yum!!!) I do have a convection/microwave oven.</div>
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I am still experimenting with the best way to cook various things</div>
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in my convection oven. (It only goes up to 425 degrees, so </div>
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I bake some things a bit differently.) </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXb4C9UTbPWGDbN1-C27aSA7fAUG-LqXKcIo6Pgooc6zO_FZfhk5ojv1wQvra6tKTsRyP6BVOhh_Tt1RbAs_w7drrnU-qWcGY6mhmqkTDgSqp130exkuHJ1G_z4Fr6x1J9gy3QwQpX63Y/s1600/DSC_0398.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXb4C9UTbPWGDbN1-C27aSA7fAUG-LqXKcIo6Pgooc6zO_FZfhk5ojv1wQvra6tKTsRyP6BVOhh_Tt1RbAs_w7drrnU-qWcGY6mhmqkTDgSqp130exkuHJ1G_z4Fr6x1J9gy3QwQpX63Y/s1600/DSC_0398.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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The above photo is in my kitchen, I have a few very special family</div>
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things that I put out each time that we set up.</div>
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It is a daily joy to see a few things that remind us of our</div>
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parents and grandparents, as well as our kiddos and grandkiddos!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEcFagpZX3H9M1YBj7kqRA-iYsVaaAekAl56Knre88dDYHeJJj80nbd5yWeZWbmMTW-Z6DATn4rxJalDh9S9AOncAr0kaTzHoaiOFWDLA6Ljozc4wpPjp1_oRJoes9yQqFQjP-pVTtlAQ/s1600/DSC_0372.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEcFagpZX3H9M1YBj7kqRA-iYsVaaAekAl56Knre88dDYHeJJj80nbd5yWeZWbmMTW-Z6DATn4rxJalDh9S9AOncAr0kaTzHoaiOFWDLA6Ljozc4wpPjp1_oRJoes9yQqFQjP-pVTtlAQ/s1600/DSC_0372.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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As Bob and I discussed the possibility of this change in our way of living, </div>
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we spoke of the things that we did not want to give up</div>
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in the moving from a house to an RV.</div>
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For myself, genealogy and quilting were up there at the top, as well</div>
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as cooking. This winter, Bob and I figured out how to set</div>
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up a "sewing center" for me----it takes a bit of floor space in the </div>
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kitchen, but works great! Above are some "mug rugs" that </div>
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I made, here in the 5th wheel, as a gift.</div>
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Trying to figure out what to do about a computer and genealogy</div>
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area was rather tricky. We tried one fold away table </div>
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that really was just too large for the livingroom (that became</div>
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my sewing table).</div>
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One evening we went to the local IKEA store with Heather, Kevin, the boys,</div>
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and Kevin's parents, Calvin and Marsha. Kevin and I were both</div>
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looking for something to resolve laptop using issues.</div>
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We looked and looked at all sorts of possibilities, when Marsha</div>
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said, "What about this smaller sized ironing board?" </div>
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PERFECT!!!!</div>
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Bob wanted to be able to have our bikes to ride, to </div>
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walk more and to read more----</div>
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maybe take up fishing eventually.</div>
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Well, we found perfect cruiser bikes for us, and a carrier for</div>
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the back of the 5th wheel. Bob loves riding---</div>
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I am trying to build up my "knee power" slowly, he can</div>
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ride circles around me . . . . . literally!!!! :-)</div>
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And we both keep our Kindles busy with reading. Bob just re-read</div>
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"Killing Lincoln" by Bill O'Reilly and is reading</div>
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Charles Krauthamer's new book.</div>
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Grizz and Bailey delight in any walk we might want to take,</div>
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and they certainly benefit us all! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq178cyanuO5JNWVwc51F53sYXJMjMZm-zf01v4U0BarYWIRMHMnp1P-erBkaDcWLy9bTelVHwWyY9E1upxTwLbYKCQAhGJVKgFaO2hZhcWqnl5Ekb4p6MRvtTEclBv5_uH421yv-tOb4/s1600/DSC_0358.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq178cyanuO5JNWVwc51F53sYXJMjMZm-zf01v4U0BarYWIRMHMnp1P-erBkaDcWLy9bTelVHwWyY9E1upxTwLbYKCQAhGJVKgFaO2hZhcWqnl5Ekb4p6MRvtTEclBv5_uH421yv-tOb4/s1600/DSC_0358.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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And so, as the sun sinks slowly in the west . . . . .</div>
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<br /></div>
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~ Chuckle ~</div>
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We send you all big hugs!</div>
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Till Later . . . . .</div>
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Bob and Debbie Biggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12866490446167348655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425191448749767759.post-48588939709935049492014-03-11T18:56:00.000-07:002014-03-11T18:56:31.129-07:0052 Week Challenge # 8 Clara Belle Stetler Biggs<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">Clara Belle Stetler,</span></div>
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Bob's paternal Grandmother.</div>
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Clara Belle Stetler was born on</div>
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the 16th of August in 1880</div>
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to Simon Peter and Esther Edith Koup Stetler.</div>
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The Stetler family was living in Clay,</div>
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Howard County, Indiana.</div>
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Clara Belle was the next to the</div>
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youngest of her siblings, and had the</div>
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nickname of "Clarrie."</div>
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According to the 1940 Census, Clara had</div>
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an 8th Grade education.</div>
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Clara married Elias Martin Biggs on</div>
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November 2, 1897 in Lafayette, Tippecanoe County,</div>
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Indiana. Elias was the son of </div>
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Green and Olive Young Biggs. </div>
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( <a href="http://bobdebbiebiggs.blogspot.com/2014/01/a-teeny-bit-of-biggs-family-history.html">http://bobdebbiebiggs.blogspot.com/2014/01/a-teeny-bit-of-biggs-family-history.html</a> )</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin20RuqghCrXtaEZsd-W_XAVTSBdqQkQiCCEAaGOPTVX482x7nhmvncSgH2nx3LHg7nFkroIa0i2l09IqV3cZGdPdKTGu0LN5jmeYMuL6GBbEcXLacflQ0Ek4uZuR76sHk_If0zjF7na4/s1600/image0-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin20RuqghCrXtaEZsd-W_XAVTSBdqQkQiCCEAaGOPTVX482x7nhmvncSgH2nx3LHg7nFkroIa0i2l09IqV3cZGdPdKTGu0LN5jmeYMuL6GBbEcXLacflQ0Ek4uZuR76sHk_If0zjF7na4/s1600/image0-4.jpg" height="640" width="460" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clara Belle Stetler Biggs<br /></td></tr>
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Clara and Elias lived in Warren County, Indiana, in Green Hill, a</div>
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small town in Medina Township. </div>
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Clara Belle and Elias' marriage was blessed with 9 children.</div>
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Clara was widowed at 59, but did not remarry.</div>
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I am told by grandchildren who knew Clara, that she loved</div>
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her flowers and that she was quick to smile.</div>
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One recalled her being a wonderful cook, and </div>
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how they loved her beans!</div>
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But most of all, they remember her love,</div>
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her gentle ways with them,</div>
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her protective spirit encircling them.</div>
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She loved to sing the old hymns, and at least one of</div>
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her sons, used to think of her</div>
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every time he heard or sang</div>
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"In the Garden."</div>
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She was deeply loved by her children</div>
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and by her grandchildren, a gift without measure.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmVMkGRn3fHP2tOnK5hwB6KalNmKhm6-LOZ_1FTLNP3gSDt-WWTQbHdRx9kuAR60Z905GuE1psfxaxSyNmxIWVicxxKUIXC-39yKPSsAzqu9iEMUbd2YXMVvMMKTNDScbIg9XrDg6nmwE/s1600/Clara+Bell+and+Children.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmVMkGRn3fHP2tOnK5hwB6KalNmKhm6-LOZ_1FTLNP3gSDt-WWTQbHdRx9kuAR60Z905GuE1psfxaxSyNmxIWVicxxKUIXC-39yKPSsAzqu9iEMUbd2YXMVvMMKTNDScbIg9XrDg6nmwE/s1600/Clara+Bell+and+Children.jpg" height="460" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clara in the center (noted as Mama) and 5 of her children.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia47fDlHalLH0cAeCr5HCT4mmEb7OyVyMHAm4-5X8Q1XplcOHVPu-xmomQK2I1mgkVnPHPAf6peUfElpzICh_sonLRK4AkRtRY7qMjY164kQktcJja3UIyLGw4Dh5MHFlS9qYNohvMuyI/s1600/Clara+Belle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia47fDlHalLH0cAeCr5HCT4mmEb7OyVyMHAm4-5X8Q1XplcOHVPu-xmomQK2I1mgkVnPHPAf6peUfElpzICh_sonLRK4AkRtRY7qMjY164kQktcJja3UIyLGw4Dh5MHFlS9qYNohvMuyI/s1600/Clara+Belle.jpg" height="200" width="154" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqJkRpH4qkE8gqGKjrKDrSI0PWBYXxYHDCb_1txtT-n7llB5FKmIi1D7vu__fOzAyibvwft2RA1Hswu6AS2_rNDQG7fjWCUnaZgyDHgE9eKifAz9jgIzbzoTd43pPbGIJQBliGEGcvkz0/s1600/Stetler_ClaraBelle(Biggs).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqJkRpH4qkE8gqGKjrKDrSI0PWBYXxYHDCb_1txtT-n7llB5FKmIi1D7vu__fOzAyibvwft2RA1Hswu6AS2_rNDQG7fjWCUnaZgyDHgE9eKifAz9jgIzbzoTd43pPbGIJQBliGEGcvkz0/s1600/Stetler_ClaraBelle(Biggs).jpg" height="200" width="139" /></a><br />
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Clara Belle had a particularly </div>
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interesting habit that her grandchildren</div>
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recall with smiles . . . . .</div>
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She smoked a corncob pipe.</div>
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However, she only allowed herself</div>
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to smoke after all the chores were done. </div>
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One grandchild recalls her </div>
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and her pipe while she was fishing,</div>
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another special love of hers.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbrOrDkZU3fFg6NOfGc2kMnWv3sILRqt5BVBLS8jccfoGxzD65cMkG87UnAFPk5DiUioy9h09gNVBqKXO7zp1porSUa65rVro9pFwV8Nc5L4cMjIL-b8bXC1hVUuoYWv-Pm9921ka5VSQ/s1600/Biggs_ClaraBelle.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbrOrDkZU3fFg6NOfGc2kMnWv3sILRqt5BVBLS8jccfoGxzD65cMkG87UnAFPk5DiUioy9h09gNVBqKXO7zp1porSUa65rVro9pFwV8Nc5L4cMjIL-b8bXC1hVUuoYWv-Pm9921ka5VSQ/s1600/Biggs_ClaraBelle.bmp" height="340" width="400" /></a></div>
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Clara Belle Stetler Biggs died May 29, 1957 in Green Hill,</div>
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she was 76 years old.</div>
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She is buried by her husband Elias in </div>
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Davis Cemetery in Green Hill, Indiana.</div>
Bob and Debbie Biggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12866490446167348655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425191448749767759.post-25461728611827266342014-03-04T16:33:00.002-08:002014-03-04T16:37:46.692-08:00Lake Arrowhead State Park<div style="text-align: center;">
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While we were visiting Jason and Kerry</div>
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and the Grands in Burkburnett,</div>
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we camped in Lake Arrowhead State Park.</div>
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It was about 30 miles south and east of</div>
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Burkburnett, to the south of Wichita Falls.</div>
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We really enjoyed it there!</div>
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I think that it was the solitude that made</div>
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the park so nice for us! </div>
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The RV spots are in circles, or cul de sacs,</div>
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with 6 spots per circle.</div>
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We had our circle to ourselves most</div>
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of the time that we were there!</div>
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Above is our campsite--the only trees were the short mesquite trees in their winter mode,</div>
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the only green on them was the mistletoe! </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This oil derrick was across the road from us, it was often the only sound we heard!<br />
Burkburnett's nickname is Boomtown, and has derricks all over!</td></tr>
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The park service has cut in paths to make getting from one spot to another easier.</div>
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They also have a few trails.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Danny fishing---not even a bite this particular morning.</td></tr>
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Danny has a passion for fishing and he came out to spend a night with us.</div>
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We went down to the lake the next morning for him to fish,</div>
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and for us to explore a bit.</div>
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As you can see in the photo below, Lake Arrowhead is extremely low. </div>
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We asked one of the park employees about the lake, they said that it was </div>
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at 24%, or 17 feet down. So sad! So many dead fish along the dry</div>
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bottom. The area of Wichita Falls is in an extreme drought,</div>
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in fact, they have begun cloud seeding this month.</div>
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Above is the main pier in the State Park.</div>
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Danny told us how the water used to be close to the pier walk way.</div>
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This Canada Goose (yes, that is the proper term :-) ) was one of many</div>
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in the area where we had stopped. I kept getting closer and closer to it</div>
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and taking photos . . . . . . </div>
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It was not a happy goose, squawking as it took off . . . . .</div>
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See it's feet tucked up behind it?</div>
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He escaped me in the water . . . . . . enjoying it's solitude.</div>
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In the photos below were some of our neighbors there at the park! </div>
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Prairie Dogs! They have a very large Prairie Dog Town there</div>
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in the park.</div>
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These little guys chirped and barked, ran to their holes,</div>
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wagged their little tails in alarm . . . .</div>
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all showing their general displeasure with us being in the area!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOSkNFdyniOf0p5fIHz8fgQTufjsyXPQ3yaRcfwoUPu1vQTPHyTQxmK-GBC1kUoQ3l0v9sf1z5-vaGgrfmmcM1Xe1fak1UEHZsPtsIPmys_MZViWlkPwX2FjowdimfGyYZx2Nk9q-s6po/s1600/DSC_0557+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOSkNFdyniOf0p5fIHz8fgQTufjsyXPQ3yaRcfwoUPu1vQTPHyTQxmK-GBC1kUoQ3l0v9sf1z5-vaGgrfmmcM1Xe1fak1UEHZsPtsIPmys_MZViWlkPwX2FjowdimfGyYZx2Nk9q-s6po/s1600/DSC_0557+(2).JPG" height="508" width="640" /></a></div>
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They were so fun to watch . . . . running hither and yon, disappearing down </div>
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their tunnels, and then another would pop up in another </div>
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hole nearby!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrERFJOoh1fH72QDOEId7P_SdrRNdjIvNx0vuEs66P38bmAZuqe-uNyXpVyM_cuLlqC3jx70sTuo6GB8DrbqMi_u-w38zIR6imu8sktfUPs0K221tM1-k-AIbutWwq-ykBW84jVwy6HkU/s1600/DSC_0560.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrERFJOoh1fH72QDOEId7P_SdrRNdjIvNx0vuEs66P38bmAZuqe-uNyXpVyM_cuLlqC3jx70sTuo6GB8DrbqMi_u-w38zIR6imu8sktfUPs0K221tM1-k-AIbutWwq-ykBW84jVwy6HkU/s1600/DSC_0560.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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These little guys and their tunnel openings were everywhere!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZrLkMzZkWp2A0IF3sDNqJIHfQRbp8hXKuVcN3I4DBH-lPt5Wc2DGCncz_tZmLc1aUUlfmq5puQRbo5LRBQ6tEWzlUknwxESKNLslpFLspgaD2cZCHnSe22FNW56lDognbGcOYTTDGsaA/s1600/DSC_0579.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZrLkMzZkWp2A0IF3sDNqJIHfQRbp8hXKuVcN3I4DBH-lPt5Wc2DGCncz_tZmLc1aUUlfmq5puQRbo5LRBQ6tEWzlUknwxESKNLslpFLspgaD2cZCHnSe22FNW56lDognbGcOYTTDGsaA/s1600/DSC_0579.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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They were very alert little critters . . . . . the one above</div>
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looks like he is giving me the "evil eye!"</div>
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Isn't he cute!!!!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ30fNi04qn7a5Oqy2no8FAnqB8VmTvMmhMJ0N8SdNLlvLVU2gfk1B5rlDzYnJfnZb6LSciVbdHW7ExkJymRd30eaDaurLsvWA6AaUeb10UmLlG2Ngmwc6clcoTlOQdkoHzGluuMCueX8/s1600/DSC_0595.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ30fNi04qn7a5Oqy2no8FAnqB8VmTvMmhMJ0N8SdNLlvLVU2gfk1B5rlDzYnJfnZb6LSciVbdHW7ExkJymRd30eaDaurLsvWA6AaUeb10UmLlG2Ngmwc6clcoTlOQdkoHzGluuMCueX8/s1600/DSC_0595.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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One of the reasons that they are so alert, is in the photo below . . . . . .</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGu8AET5ZJ67UqfzsPgvF-mHGnqwkfZWdQV8QbjHtsR4rD9PH5cghxjpDNHqjKpfJffIEG4KBMd5joLWftJ8-EocGL5HnBrxUYM_y_nByUv2peCP60sVZxBv5907UXUqLRAAGipRj8N70/s1600/DSC_0607+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGu8AET5ZJ67UqfzsPgvF-mHGnqwkfZWdQV8QbjHtsR4rD9PH5cghxjpDNHqjKpfJffIEG4KBMd5joLWftJ8-EocGL5HnBrxUYM_y_nByUv2peCP60sVZxBv5907UXUqLRAAGipRj8N70/s1600/DSC_0607+(2).JPG" height="640" width="540" /></a></div>
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Hawks were plentiful in the park, as their prey was also plentiful . . . . </div>
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snakes, prairie voles, prairie dogs . . . . . .</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaNuqOemMyXcN-_VLeBtbUEWRnkkucuS9TOSC6loyg5kPDg136wwRtNzcjK3-OZJMbSIZV3QBKNkg4fN259ckELW9B4R0a2TbyUrkOFuQyfJNPH4JmxiIruqo0cfq0r7wxRgez08ym6Is/s1600/DSC_0612+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaNuqOemMyXcN-_VLeBtbUEWRnkkucuS9TOSC6loyg5kPDg136wwRtNzcjK3-OZJMbSIZV3QBKNkg4fN259ckELW9B4R0a2TbyUrkOFuQyfJNPH4JmxiIruqo0cfq0r7wxRgez08ym6Is/s1600/DSC_0612+(2).JPG" height="640" width="506" /></a></div>
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Isn't it beautiful? </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5MoD-kq7TUaCSqcGJpjTP8T6Fx2_8kLfoNYRhHDqOLBKyeijKYuI8hnqoLhVqpbsWTiKNsuwcwbHjt0pNs5JW8p0YlViMkPEfeEuHXJfQWigrOP0w_Xv9JfuD2-9nXO7xBMGqdtYV0bk/s1600/DSC_0624.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5MoD-kq7TUaCSqcGJpjTP8T6Fx2_8kLfoNYRhHDqOLBKyeijKYuI8hnqoLhVqpbsWTiKNsuwcwbHjt0pNs5JW8p0YlViMkPEfeEuHXJfQWigrOP0w_Xv9JfuD2-9nXO7xBMGqdtYV0bk/s1600/DSC_0624.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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This little fella above says "So long from Lake Arrowhead State Park!!!!</div>
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Come see us!!!"</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCFbZNJzJJHKsBpK5f_8U9qwj5hAuMqw5vi9S3-CPbtMa3BCfbvtAejozznBL2LUMY1ubtxMT2EMXbmNu2JO_lgOuotnPPU4GHsSMWUunjU2G_ax5rsLGUc0PVlWBHlL06oHc51000t3s/s1600/DSC_0503.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCFbZNJzJJHKsBpK5f_8U9qwj5hAuMqw5vi9S3-CPbtMa3BCfbvtAejozznBL2LUMY1ubtxMT2EMXbmNu2JO_lgOuotnPPU4GHsSMWUunjU2G_ax5rsLGUc0PVlWBHlL06oHc51000t3s/s1600/DSC_0503.JPG" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
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<br />
The dry prairie grasses were so pretty, you can even<br />
see them beginning to green-up!<br />
<br />
Hugs!<br />
<br />
Till next time . . . . . . .</div>
Bob and Debbie Biggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12866490446167348655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425191448749767759.post-87876933291772490952014-03-03T10:59:00.000-08:002014-03-11T18:01:43.074-07:0052 Week Challenge # 7 Caroline Meyer Dostal<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The story of Caroline Meyer Dostal's life that I know</div>
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has been handed down to me through</div>
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my Grandparents (her youngest son and his</div>
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wife) and my Father and my Aunt.</div>
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I am going to pass along her story, as it has been</div>
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told to us. Much of it has no formal</div>
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documentation, but it is her story, nonetheless.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirwmEUDNobErX4tbDTunNkWe5bCkeZHGRBbZj4-qAD3ceViH76E2VAEVdfajUlmg3-1i08xvXasP5bm4UPc6Pyy8VkuJ7E4aNIpq6PNT5yBAwCqIgzH3jvr-kABgI2vNR1NE8yiLRQXmo/s1600/Caroline+Meyer+Dostal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirwmEUDNobErX4tbDTunNkWe5bCkeZHGRBbZj4-qAD3ceViH76E2VAEVdfajUlmg3-1i08xvXasP5bm4UPc6Pyy8VkuJ7E4aNIpq6PNT5yBAwCqIgzH3jvr-kABgI2vNR1NE8yiLRQXmo/s1600/Caroline+Meyer+Dostal.jpg" height="640" width="516" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This painting of Caroline was done from a photo of her. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Caroline Meyer was born in what she called "Western Prussia" (now Germany)</div>
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on March 24, 1855. It is believed her parents were </div>
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Ludwig Meyer and Anna Gustina. Caroline had at least</div>
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one sibling, an older brother, by the name of John.</div>
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Caroline's life was jolted by tragedy as a child. Her mother</div>
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died when she was quite young. Her father</div>
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remarried, however Caroline's step mother did</div>
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not give love and acceptance to Caroline.</div>
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Caroline's young world was about to suffer an even greater</div>
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loss. She was an adolescent when her father</div>
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died, leaving her an orphan in the eyes of her step mother.</div>
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Caroline was sent out into the world to make her</div>
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own way in the world by her step mother.</div>
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Caroline's brother John had already left home and was on</div>
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his own, so she decided to set out to find him.</div>
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Caroline was found in tears by a kind Polish woman.</div>
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This lovely woman took our Great Grandmother home with</div>
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her, bringing her into her own family. Caroline</div>
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became part of the family, learning to speak Polish while there.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdS0aGN-YyUzKI1ZjEmqDBKbewphhxYrkF8LJdMxolpVmiPrM5M69YOOyaPuM4PIYs_NLPuiywhiRMLe_3srlXlsH5ZryY6ZAkwkuLqReSd5E5tLRdQuPcWon-Ve31r_oyvnrgRSCIIJU/s1600/Image017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdS0aGN-YyUzKI1ZjEmqDBKbewphhxYrkF8LJdMxolpVmiPrM5M69YOOyaPuM4PIYs_NLPuiywhiRMLe_3srlXlsH5ZryY6ZAkwkuLqReSd5E5tLRdQuPcWon-Ve31r_oyvnrgRSCIIJU/s1600/Image017.jpg" height="400" width="328" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Caroline Meyer Dostal, circa 1922, with one of her rose bushes.</td></tr>
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Eventually, Caroline met and married Karl Dostal,</div>
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( <a href="http://bobdebbiebiggs.blogspot.com/2014/02/52-week-challenge-6-reat-grandfather.html">http://bobdebbiebiggs.blogspot.com/2014/02/52-week-challenge-6-reat-grandfather.html</a> )</div>
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our Great Grandfather.</div>
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(They would have married circa 1876-1878.)</div>
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Together they worked very hard to build a life for themselves and</div>
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their children.</div>
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Caroline and Karl worked for wealthy land owners, I believe for </div>
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most, if not all, of the time that they were in Prussia.</div>
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Caroline worked in what she called the "Big House."</div>
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She cooked and did cleaning for the land owners.</div>
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Her days were long and filled with hard physical labor, just as</div>
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Karl's were, out in the fields.</div>
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Caroline spoke of making dinner for the family in the Big House,</div>
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then coming home and fixing dinner for her own family,</div>
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locking the children in the house for safety and</div>
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going back up to the House to clean up and get the </div>
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next days' food begun.</div>
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Caroline and Karl had contact with Caroline's brother John. He had</div>
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immigrated to America, to a place called Ludington,</div>
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Michigan. Caroline and Karl decided to immigrate as well,</div>
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hoping for a better life and future for their children. </div>
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Caroline said that John sponsored them, and they</div>
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immigrated in 1884. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTMsPO0VHxMm2jd_xsOCo9XS5MVB4s_okbg5kh7XXaDnH22W_jzLydrTNQWoqDvamL43bbktE7BVTKugwNs4rzpUFjMupp-5lkn4a92eMqFwZLgAtWjLkr0auZ1ThTwYeO0cyuL620Npo/s1600/Karl++Dostal+_Caroline++Meyer_0072.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTMsPO0VHxMm2jd_xsOCo9XS5MVB4s_okbg5kh7XXaDnH22W_jzLydrTNQWoqDvamL43bbktE7BVTKugwNs4rzpUFjMupp-5lkn4a92eMqFwZLgAtWjLkr0auZ1ThTwYeO0cyuL620Npo/s1600/Karl++Dostal+_Caroline++Meyer_0072.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Caroline and Karl Dostal (seated), their daughter Helen (between them), and their son Fred (our Grandfather)<br />
on their farm in Amber Township, Mason County, Michigan.</td></tr>
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They entered America at the Port of New York, it was before Ellis Island, and so must</div>
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have been Castle Gardens. </div>
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Once again, Caroline had deep sorrow come into her life.</div>
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When Caroline and Karl left Germany, they had three </div>
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children, who were, of course, traveling with them, Emil, Herman and Amelia.</div>
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The travel in the ship had many difficulties to deal with,</div>
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not the least of which, was illness.</div>
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Upon arrival, many were quarantined, Caroline said the children were </div>
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separated from the adults. She was separated from her children</div>
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at some point before she left the ship. </div>
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Caroline was told that two of her children had died, Herman and </div>
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Amelia. She asked to see them, to hold their little</div>
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bodies. She was denied any access to them. Emil was </div>
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reunited with his parents, without his brother and sister.</div>
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Caroline was in a panicked state, as I can only imagine---to be told</div>
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of the loss of two children, and not to have the opportunity to hold them once again.</div>
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Caroline told how the rumor was that many young children </div>
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who came into port with immigrating parents were taken and sold</div>
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to people who wanted to adopt children, especially those</div>
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children with blue eyes and blonde hair. She said that she felt deep in her</div>
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heart that is what happened to her babies. . . . . that her mother's heart</div>
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would know if they had died.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_gwtgVyIjIRwvPISpY9TJovEEy-sED1ZlHNMMh2Wtco5489y4kp0zrfve3nD9viVF9AILY6Mlb1Y_MjW9hdYOl0oEI8yjdSNa7YF6pqQq9ppISCutB2LfsCoG06DCb_oHNKAQaDo6sco/s1600/Image067.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_gwtgVyIjIRwvPISpY9TJovEEy-sED1ZlHNMMh2Wtco5489y4kp0zrfve3nD9viVF9AILY6Mlb1Y_MjW9hdYOl0oEI8yjdSNa7YF6pqQq9ppISCutB2LfsCoG06DCb_oHNKAQaDo6sco/s1600/Image067.jpg" height="640" width="540" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Great Grandma Caroline bringing milk up to the house---my Father said he walked that path many, many times.</td></tr>
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Caroline said that they spent about three months waiting for the</div>
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quarantine. While there, Caroline actually was</div>
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able to help with some of the immigrants coming in, as not only did she speak</div>
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German, but she also spoke Polish.</div>
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They made their way to Ludington, Michigan, reuniting with Caroline's brother</div>
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John and his family. How wonderful the reunion . . . .</div>
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According to the 1900 census, Caroline said that she had had thirteen children,</div>
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yet in 1900, only five were living. The children that we know of were:</div>
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Amelia, Herman, Emil, Otto, Charles (died in Michigan of Bright's Disease), </div>
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William, Frederick and Helen.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5_8wgA77qPMJpwUx4BeYiiUFw80Xki0Gggn6AVIoMDpy4X1jY7x2ZXVcHHizmnTYxBiKrrM5ogkrQSyYng4jwUZ3RSf2IWxy0QTphEFqtPTri_pIEP-RsKwFOU-OI7pXpv9x8WMwZHK8/s1600/Dostal.jpg.bmp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5_8wgA77qPMJpwUx4BeYiiUFw80Xki0Gggn6AVIoMDpy4X1jY7x2ZXVcHHizmnTYxBiKrrM5ogkrQSyYng4jwUZ3RSf2IWxy0QTphEFqtPTri_pIEP-RsKwFOU-OI7pXpv9x8WMwZHK8/s1600/Dostal.jpg.bmp.jpg" height="518" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From the left: Caroline and her children: Helen, Fred, William, Otto and Emil. circa 1923.</td></tr>
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Caroline and Karl eventually were able to purchase their own</div>
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land and farm the land, having their own livestock and home. My</div>
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Grandmother Evelyn Dostal loved to tell of the great kindnesses that Grandma</div>
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Caroline showed, and how she loved children, going out of her way</div>
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to be especially kind to them. (She had personal knowledge of that importance. . . . .)</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGsgXB5-UI2B7Si4OajybHBydnsnPaqyLA3-t5vYuBqq8pXXoRxKOpPF9m9T9v74XterwLABMDLdEbdZeCMlc6ZVKOiSY4gU4TrukcNsxyfjlUsZj-mddT7RnIcJqgg1aLF5vQvFvM6Q8/s1600/Image068.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGsgXB5-UI2B7Si4OajybHBydnsnPaqyLA3-t5vYuBqq8pXXoRxKOpPF9m9T9v74XterwLABMDLdEbdZeCMlc6ZVKOiSY4gU4TrukcNsxyfjlUsZj-mddT7RnIcJqgg1aLF5vQvFvM6Q8/s1600/Image068.jpg" height="280" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grandma Caroline feeding the chickens . . . . .</td></tr>
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Caroline wanted all of her children to be able to have a life that was easier than</div>
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the ones that she and Karl had lived through.</div>
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This is an excerpt from her obituary,</div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>"She was richly content, declaring that her life had yielded her richer blessings</i></div>
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<i>than she ever expected. She had lived to see her wish fulfilled for</i></div>
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<i>her children, all of them educated for ?? life work, happily married, and</i></div>
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<i>prosperous. She declared that, though she would be happy to remain longer with </i></div>
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<i>them she felt that life for her was finished and was content to go."</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Above excerpt from The Ludington Daily News, February 12, 1928, </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Page 1, Column 7 and Page 8, Column 3.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWmZ4IXfGrA9lgvz7sD2DyYzKZAAwKpyv3CV4kIPLLREIMsFdut2hy36CGGr-X5_Az3dko7msMf7coIeqi9agcyc3FlMlybbU_dUKMkjhYvAj89SNgZLE_I_2ABmy5YM1QxQ7yP49ifng/s1600/image-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWmZ4IXfGrA9lgvz7sD2DyYzKZAAwKpyv3CV4kIPLLREIMsFdut2hy36CGGr-X5_Az3dko7msMf7coIeqi9agcyc3FlMlybbU_dUKMkjhYvAj89SNgZLE_I_2ABmy5YM1QxQ7yP49ifng/s1600/image-1.jpg" height="378" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Caroline (front and center), her son Otto to her right and his wife, Frieda Schudlich on the left. To Frieda's left, we believe is her sister.</td></tr>
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Caroline Meyer Dostal passed away on the 10th of February in 1928.</div>
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She died just six hours after the birth of a little granddaughter, Jean Dostal. Caroline was too </div>
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ill to be able to receive the information.</div>
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Caroline Dostal is buried in Lakeview Cemetery in Ludington, Michigan, across the </div>
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street from Lake Michigan. She is buried next to her husband, Karl, and </div>
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is surrounded there by her family.</div>
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<br /></div>
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The love and kindness, not to mention strength, that Caroline showed </div>
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lives on through her descendants, keeping her legacy alive.</div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSBfHitLp6NYZEja1l98E1FLUykOZMwrJ3baQewAZfIb5N3X5jUOXtRAp5NPeXzXkc9o7WZsZ3ObHOdo6qcKBdeyEwoLt3vBo4XC7M2x37-ZCUmHmTKNBP_mO5nKFG3b2pzOWNeRFN1CA/s1600/Caroline+Meyer_0038.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSBfHitLp6NYZEja1l98E1FLUykOZMwrJ3baQewAZfIb5N3X5jUOXtRAp5NPeXzXkc9o7WZsZ3ObHOdo6qcKBdeyEwoLt3vBo4XC7M2x37-ZCUmHmTKNBP_mO5nKFG3b2pzOWNeRFN1CA/s1600/Caroline+Meyer_0038.jpg" height="640" width="456" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is a photo of Caroline Meyer Dostal (Grandpa Fred Dostal's Mother) and<br />
William H. Gaffney (Grandma Evelyn Gaffney Dostal's Father). Both<br />
Caroline and Will lived with our Grandpa and Grandma Dostal on the Dostal Farm in Amber.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Bob and Debbie Biggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12866490446167348655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425191448749767759.post-45729108856649059952014-02-24T20:43:00.003-08:002014-02-25T08:03:56.442-08:0052 Week Challenge #6 Great Grandfather Karl Dostal<div style="text-align: center;">
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Karl Dostal is my Great Grandfather, my </div>
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father's father's father.</div>
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Karl was born October 11, 1849 possibly in</div>
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Danzig, West Prussia, according</div>
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to family tradition. His father was </div>
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Michael Dostal and was a "wandering veterinarian."</div>
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His mother was Anna Zivarth Dostal. Karl</div>
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had 2 sisters that lived to adulthood, </div>
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Anna and Louise. </div>
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The family traveled together, from<br />
town to town, following the need for a veterinarian. </div>
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Some of the towns that my Grandfather</div>
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remembers his parents mentioning were Potsdam,</div>
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Lindenau, Danzig and Liepzig.</div>
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Not much is known to the family</div>
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about Karl's parents, beyond their names and </div>
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knowing that work was hard and often scarce</div>
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for them. Karl's mother Anna, died when he and</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc3Bw3sUcH5CPrnvTb3E6I0FWY3s99QJL9_JyWUWlRfzUdflnnH-e33HPoTZhnn5ZptDRngDCRKc5Av5yqyOga8kJyZmAw7c5duJZK93sVU4X8Dh2bK-nKbYElzNJTatLeLezPs5LfhAU/s1600/Karl+Dostal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc3Bw3sUcH5CPrnvTb3E6I0FWY3s99QJL9_JyWUWlRfzUdflnnH-e33HPoTZhnn5ZptDRngDCRKc5Av5yqyOga8kJyZmAw7c5duJZK93sVU4X8Dh2bK-nKbYElzNJTatLeLezPs5LfhAU/s1600/Karl+Dostal.jpg" height="320" width="246" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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his sisters were pretty young. The children were put in</div>
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other families to be taken care of.</div>
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How difficult for the children. How </div>
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young to learn such sorrow.</div>
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Karl Dostal married Caroline Meyer circa 1878.</div>
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Together they worked hard to make a life for themselves </div>
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and their children. Karl and Caroline were</div>
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not land owners, or business owners, </div>
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nor did they have wealth passed down through the family.</div>
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Karl worked the land for the wealthy</div>
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landowners. It was likely during this time that much</div>
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damage was done to his back and hips.</div>
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He carried a yoke across his shoulders that held</div>
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2 buckets (full of water or manure) out to the fields</div>
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time and time again . . . . daily . . . . . fertilizing and watering</div>
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the fields. </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>*My Grandfather told of how his father walked, bent, with his</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>legs together from the hip to the knees, and the walking</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>motion coming from the knee to the foot, not the hip. His </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>back and hips gave him great pain, but it did not</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>hold him back from work. Grandpa also said that his</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>father, Karl, was never ill, and worked every day without fail."</i></span></div>
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With the thought of a better life, Karl, Caroline and their</div>
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3 young children immigrated to America in 1884.</div>
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(I am still in search of their passage records and Karl's</div>
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Naturalization record.)</div>
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Caroline had a brother in Ludington, Mason County, Michigan,</div>
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and so it was Ludington that was their destination. It would</div>
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be good to be with family.</div>
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After stepping onto American soil, it took 3 months before they</div>
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were able to get on their way to Ludington. The</div>
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processing for their immigration seemed endless.</div>
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The early months in America were certainly</div>
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not easy . . . unable to communicate easily, no home, little money.</div>
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Maybe it was not the dream that they were hoping it would be.</div>
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Karl and Caroline wondered if they</div>
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had made a mistake in making the decision to leave Prussia.</div>
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Once Karl and Caroline reached Ludington,</div>
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Karl began working at the Stave Mill. They lived</div>
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in an area of town called "Smokey Road," where many of the</div>
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immigrants lived.</div>
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As time went along, money was </div>
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saved and the day came when they were able to</div>
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buy their own farm! I can only imagine how</div>
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that must have felt to them---their own farm!</div>
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Grandfather Karl was now a Farmer, a Farmer of his own land. I wonder</div>
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if he had dreamed of this day, if he wondered if it would ever come </div>
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to pass. It was on his farm, out on his land that Karl fell down, </div>
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in great pain and paralyzed on his left side. He was taken </div>
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carefully to the house, and it was there that Karl left the pain </div>
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of this world to join his Savior.</div>
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Karl Dostal died September 23, 1914.</div>
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He is buried in Lakeview Cemetery along Lake Michigan, with </div>
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his family.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh0QQHgvS_RBmY3B_hFAiUdwanyDnZz9o2KFRnRni8RrMbcFpPlBwV7f-agFEaL2k7W2mcHpRLC6GICp_Gijxawdf6hvEYze_EOTIcqBxZTX34fAZlQ7-Bwrx5jEHzrhZMstESRuTGWV0/s1600/Karl++Dostal+_Caroline++Meyer_0073.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh0QQHgvS_RBmY3B_hFAiUdwanyDnZz9o2KFRnRni8RrMbcFpPlBwV7f-agFEaL2k7W2mcHpRLC6GICp_Gijxawdf6hvEYze_EOTIcqBxZTX34fAZlQ7-Bwrx5jEHzrhZMstESRuTGWV0/s1600/Karl++Dostal+_Caroline++Meyer_0073.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Dostal Home. Karl and Caroline seated in chairs, youngest child, Helen standing, and my Grandfather, Frederick seated on the ground with the dog. Holding the horses is thought to be their son, Charles.</td></tr>
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<br />Bob and Debbie Biggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12866490446167348655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425191448749767759.post-41802458983749820712014-02-24T18:46:00.000-08:002014-02-24T18:46:02.293-08:00Visiting in Burkburnett . . . .<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Hello from Lake Arrowhead State Park, </div>
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near Wichita Falls, Texas!</div>
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The early part of this month, we moved </div>
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north and west a bit from Lewisville (in the </div>
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Dallas-Fort Worth area) to the </div>
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Wichita Falls area to</div>
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spend some time with Jason, Kerry, </div>
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Danny</div>
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Karen</div>
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and </div>
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Ashley Mae.</div>
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They live in Burkburnett, Texas,</div>
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about 20 miles from the campground that</div>
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we are staying at. Burkburnett is also about miles from<br />
the Oklahoma state line and the Red River.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-gBsQTBhUwmrm6U1ldok-tYzxt75cptUW1Y4D5_GKZSFkmhSWrhpvQYvKKlVTE7aHzLYEoSnqklIGrbfhJt9RGdeTudRwNfz3pULsBtl4GUDLC9FC49HmysG6KCkgylixqIbejeZh1i4/s1600/IMG_20140213_191154_edited.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-gBsQTBhUwmrm6U1ldok-tYzxt75cptUW1Y4D5_GKZSFkmhSWrhpvQYvKKlVTE7aHzLYEoSnqklIGrbfhJt9RGdeTudRwNfz3pULsBtl4GUDLC9FC49HmysG6KCkgylixqIbejeZh1i4/s1600/IMG_20140213_191154_edited.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is Danny holding the Texas State Flag at his function. (Taken with phone camera)</td></tr>
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Danny is very active in the Jr. ROTC at his High School. He<br />
is a leader within the ROTC, and loves it. (He began in<br />
Jr. ROTC last year as a freshman down in San Antonio.)</div>
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Shortly after we got here,<br />
he had a function to attend. . . . he was part </div>
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of the Color Guard! We got to see him in full uniform . . . . .</div>
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Wow! </div>
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Danny also runs Cross Country and is part of the Varsity Track Team. </div>
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He has been running for a few years now, but last week we</div>
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had the blessing of seeing him run during a Relay Meet. Danny ran</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZOW0z4Bv3cMaFTTPHtYqSlgiJ28OADxsMZdqFZd1Hhny3KuFEnKBp0A3IIxg2wgj2cQkL1lGOqH5_RYWBnwQm2Kzohl3EiWVcQ7iLUHyHt8768T-MOULVayaDkmIjknqcjcMYuwPQQ4Q/s1600/DSC_0640_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZOW0z4Bv3cMaFTTPHtYqSlgiJ28OADxsMZdqFZd1Hhny3KuFEnKBp0A3IIxg2wgj2cQkL1lGOqH5_RYWBnwQm2Kzohl3EiWVcQ7iLUHyHt8768T-MOULVayaDkmIjknqcjcMYuwPQQ4Q/s1600/DSC_0640_1.jpg" height="640" width="300" /></a>a relay with 3 other team members, he called it a </div>
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"distance medley relay." He ran 3 laps and he was the first one of his team</div>
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to run, he put the team in a solid 2nd position, and they ended up </div>
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placing 2nd! He prefers Cross Country to</div>
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short runs, but enjoys the camaraderie of being part of the Track Team. He seems to be a natural motivator to his team mates, and is most always smiling and upbeat.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grandpa watching the relays . . . . . </td></tr>
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Ashley Mae is growing up to be such a lovely young lady! She still loves all things Beatles and Elvis . . . . but her passions are art, and wolves and drawing. Above you can see one of her recent drawings. She has done some amazing pictures. She recently made a card for her dad and it had horses, done in a soft and fluid outline, and they were running . . . . . just lovely! (Like her!) She also loves to play the video game MineCraft, and often plays it online with her cousin Georgia, who lives in</div>
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England! Ashley loves being a Texas girl, she has a growing collection of cowboy boots and hats, and loves a great belt buckle --- obviously she has GREAT taste! </div>
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The photo above of Ashley, and the photo below of Kerry and Karen were taken</div>
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at the Track Meet. I edited the coloring and some bits on both photos. We</div>
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had a really good time, we got quite chilly after the sun went down and the wind</div>
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picked up! :-)</div>
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Karen Lee is our fashionista! :-)<br />
Kerry says that Karen is the family "Social Butterfly!"<br />
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She is also one of our family's many musicians . . . . She plays 1st chair French Horn</div>
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in her school's band. She plays 2nd chair French Horn in the </div>
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District Band, AND, this winter, she auditioned for,</div>
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and became a member of, the Wichita Falls Youth Symphony Orchestra.</div>
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This weekend she was measured for the gown that she will</div>
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be wearing for their performances. How Fun!</div>
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Her musical interests do not stop with the French Horn, she also plays</div>
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acoustic guitar, electric guitar (plays both beautifully), some drums, and is</div>
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beginning the piano. She has a good ear for music, and it shows </div>
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when she plays. She also can text faster than anyone I know! ~ smile ~</div>
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This weekend, Jason and Kerry had us over for a delicious smoked brisket, with Jason's recipe BBque sauce and their own recipe of Ranch Style Beans. Yes, we over-ate . . . . and it was soo good! Wish that you all could have joined us . . . Jason has smoking the brisket down to a fine science, and Bob and I both agreed that we have never had any that good! It was not fatty and the bark was crisp and delish! Jason and Kerry have put together a notebook of their own recipes, along with some family recipes that have been passed down.<br />
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The day was wonderful---it was in the low 70's, abundant sunshine, lots of smiles and laughter and excellent company, not to mention the wonderful food! <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Danny playing with the dogs out back</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ashley in the never-ending wind :-)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDnkOetUvl9YPX8QLuYsMyTWuo81Lqf9B_wNhYY6flNUse6CTv3TcuKrTpc6w2vmPOv0iF0vSXr6lvhOpbWc28Xqbm777J6TNHhci04lo38C-4EUPGNaFBrkyz0AcBXZSynXPnOO56PG8/s1600/DSC_0727.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDnkOetUvl9YPX8QLuYsMyTWuo81Lqf9B_wNhYY6flNUse6CTv3TcuKrTpc6w2vmPOv0iF0vSXr6lvhOpbWc28Xqbm777J6TNHhci04lo38C-4EUPGNaFBrkyz0AcBXZSynXPnOO56PG8/s1600/DSC_0727.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grizz was peeking at me from under the grill.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-7VRQ__bbm8QghT-eCYZ8bwRZf6bg6jOiZ6LdykhEQjFbhZkzoefOHsWpI1mmL-f8fpuVvaJrF6GvISEeVgIuINxLrEA7gzoHOEGrj0bQSgmn8CSQy98V1kyx2_ubrZ9MOR4zkgO0O2o/s1600/DSC_0728.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-7VRQ__bbm8QghT-eCYZ8bwRZf6bg6jOiZ6LdykhEQjFbhZkzoefOHsWpI1mmL-f8fpuVvaJrF6GvISEeVgIuINxLrEA7gzoHOEGrj0bQSgmn8CSQy98V1kyx2_ubrZ9MOR4zkgO0O2o/s1600/DSC_0728.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just imagine that heavenly fragrance . . . . . .</td></tr>
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Jason made his smoking grills, and this weekend, all of them were working away!</div>
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Good night from the Red River Valley!</div>
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Till next time . . . . . .</div>
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<br />Bob and Debbie Biggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12866490446167348655noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425191448749767759.post-41473941721686029342014-02-17T19:46:00.000-08:002014-02-17T19:46:37.027-08:0052 Week Challenge: #5 Ruelma Rowe<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This is Ruelma Rowe Starkey Barnhart. Isn't she striking? Ruelma is Bob's </div>
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Great Grandmother (his mother's father's father's mother's mother).</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJEWdG6GiAzdi8uH4WCodESn1s2YGPZJbqCvRg2pgIkJma_cjvm0QIWzrDfp7DHe8uDphFIGCB2aVUIIcyzcVImds-4osbzU0eY9rT3HI5AkKvwqlpb3LmflIhQ69cywjoSL5s5nOZaE4/s1600/Ruelma.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJEWdG6GiAzdi8uH4WCodESn1s2YGPZJbqCvRg2pgIkJma_cjvm0QIWzrDfp7DHe8uDphFIGCB2aVUIIcyzcVImds-4osbzU0eY9rT3HI5AkKvwqlpb3LmflIhQ69cywjoSL5s5nOZaE4/s1600/Ruelma.jpg" height="640" width="454" /></a></div>
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Ruelma was born circa 1818 in Chillicothe, Ross County, Ohio. We are uncertain of the names of Ruelma's parents, but we do know that she had a sister by the name of Mary Ann R. Rowe.</div>
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The parentage and ancestry of Ruelma has been of great interest to the family for </div>
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many years. </div>
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The interest comes from the family tradition of Ruelma being a descendant</div>
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of Chief Joseph Brandt. </div>
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The scan below is what is written on the back of the above photo. It is presumed to be</div>
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written by one of Ruelma's grandsons.</div>
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"<i>Reulma Row Starkey Barnhart Died in year 1885 Sept. 16th</i></div>
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<i>PS) Born among the Wyndott Indians east of Lafayette Indiana</i></div>
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<i>her Mother was Cheif Joseph Brants Daughter</i></div>
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<i>he was a mohawk Indian from New York.</i></div>
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<i>her Father was a scout for Mad Anthony Wayne</i></div>
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<i>at fallin timbers about ?? miles east of Fort Wayne, Ind.</i></div>
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<i>the present City wher the Fort Harmar was</i></div>
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<i>located"</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXeMnLg9AvowKOVphF6F7YvMhJwTRihQPhmMvvmaBzoOUvP574vW73HBgax9SX0u1SysXvLGRl1lRMGmio-6e-M_H2Zh7RlDIu-our61GzxKTp5oVFgQnAS4Wyvo-Zeaf09MXA2wqd4ts/s1600/Ruelmas+family.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXeMnLg9AvowKOVphF6F7YvMhJwTRihQPhmMvvmaBzoOUvP574vW73HBgax9SX0u1SysXvLGRl1lRMGmio-6e-M_H2Zh7RlDIu-our61GzxKTp5oVFgQnAS4Wyvo-Zeaf09MXA2wqd4ts/s1600/Ruelmas+family.jpg" height="640" width="454" /></a></div>
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The search continues for documentation . . . perhaps down the road, </div>
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DNA testing will help to answer some questions. </div>
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In May of 1842, Ruelma married Ingham Starkey in Tippecanoe County, Indiana.</div>
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Together they had 3 children:</div>
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Harriet "Hat" (who married Daniel Dewitt Cole)</div>
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John W.</div>
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Mary Elizabeth "Lib"</div>
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On the day before Christmas in 1853, Ruelma's husband Ingham died. Harriet</div>
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would have been 10 years old and Mary Elizabeth, the youngest, 6 years old. I am </div>
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sure that the children must have been such a comfort and a help to Ruelma </div>
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in the years right after Ingham's death. </div>
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Ruelma met a German immigrant by the name of Peter Barnhart.</div>
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They were married August 30, 1858. </div>
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Soon the Civil War would erupt and both Ruelma's </div>
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son John and his stepfather Peter, would go off to war. </div>
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Peter came home, but John did not. </div>
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John was severely wounded during the Battle of Mission Ridge</div>
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in Tennessee. </div>
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He died on March 14, 1865 of small pox in one of the "small pox hospitals" in </div>
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Huntsville, Alabama.</div>
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Below is a photo of Ruelma and her 2nd husband, Peter Barnhart.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6PNx8oaU_nvwtWBDIMGyLKq6Hn_rDta3rTbsFxmGxQ9lkWb1XN9BMB8ICs-75d87-YXZxgDZTfkZGOsRmnjYQbchZraM8FzjW6H3gVObDbVZjjcg9vMwZOZulD_DdZMP6oJBjIMT_-a8/s1600/Ruelma+and+Peter+Barnhardt408.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6PNx8oaU_nvwtWBDIMGyLKq6Hn_rDta3rTbsFxmGxQ9lkWb1XN9BMB8ICs-75d87-YXZxgDZTfkZGOsRmnjYQbchZraM8FzjW6H3gVObDbVZjjcg9vMwZOZulD_DdZMP6oJBjIMT_-a8/s1600/Ruelma+and+Peter+Barnhardt408.jpg" height="640" width="544" /></a></div>
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Ruelma lived to the age of 67, dying on the 17th of September in 1885.</div>
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The search for her story goes on . . . . . .</div>
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Bob and Debbie Biggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12866490446167348655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425191448749767759.post-49889404497967610912014-02-11T08:20:00.003-08:002014-02-11T08:20:17.154-08:0052 Week Challange: #4 Hiram Hart<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Hiram Hart</i></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTSGb4RwvVZI-fuSfsbedhqhtN-8-Dg17I7EdCf_tos-26iZ4BC3dlUJPvUT1BA006ETo26KCSPXOJ6Rr_GV5C9PxJiEGgl-fNstEHrOgrn2jkfFmwElU3Qt3WP-wCKyZDQii42afsGkU/s1600/Hiram+Hart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTSGb4RwvVZI-fuSfsbedhqhtN-8-Dg17I7EdCf_tos-26iZ4BC3dlUJPvUT1BA006ETo26KCSPXOJ6Rr_GV5C9PxJiEGgl-fNstEHrOgrn2jkfFmwElU3Qt3WP-wCKyZDQii42afsGkU/s1600/Hiram+Hart.jpg" height="400" width="301" /></a></div>
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Hiram Hart is the father of my mother's mother's father's mother (whew!)</div>
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Or, my 3rd Great Grandfather on my mother's side.</div>
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His parents were Rodman Thomas Hart and Lorinda Granger Hart.</div>
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Hiram was born about 1816 in Junius, Seneca County, New York, about</div>
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a year and a half after his parents moved there from Farmington, Ontario County, also in </div>
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New York. His father had purchased a 50 acre farm.</div>
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Hiram's mother died when he was just 7 years old. Rodman Hart remarried 5</div>
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months after his wife Lorinda died. He still had young children in the </div>
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household. Hiram had one sister, Rebecca, the eldest of the </div>
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children, and 5 brothers, 3 elder, Haddasha, Henry and</div>
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Samuel, and 2 younger, Jacob and Gahazi.</div>
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Not much has been discovered about Hiram's younger years. I would</div>
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imagine that he helped his father and brothers with the </div>
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farm. </div>
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Circa 1839 he met and married Angeline Cushman, the daughter</div>
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of Solomon and Salina Cushman of Floyd, Oneida County, New York.</div>
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Together they had at least 4 children, William H., Lorinda Rebecca, </div>
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Thomas Rodman and Clara S.</div>
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In the 1840 U.S. Census, Hiram and family are living in Junius. In the</div>
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1850 U.S. Census, Hiram and his family are living in Rose,</div>
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Wayne County, New York. Hiram is farming there. We </div>
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find the Hiram Hart family in Rose again in 1860 with </div>
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Hiram still farming. The Rose city directory from 1868</div>
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states that Hiram is a farmer and also a shingle maker.</div>
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The lure of moving a bit westward . . . . . .</div>
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so many families left the familiar, family and friends to head west.</div>
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Hiram, Angeline, their daughter, Lorinda and her daughter, </div>
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Myrtle are next found in the 1870 Census in Charlotte,</div>
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Eaton Co., Michigan. In October of 1870, Hiram and </div>
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Angeline sold their land in Rose to Henry Garlick.</div>
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September of 1873 brought sorrow to the Hart household when </div>
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Angeline died. Two years later, in March of 1875, Hiram</div>
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married Angeline's youngest sister, Susan P. </div>
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Cushman. This was Susan's first marriage.</div>
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Susan and Hiram had 5 short years together. Hiram fell ill with typhoid</div>
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pneumonia, and died in March of 1880, leaving Susan </div>
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widowed. </div>
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Hiram is buried in South Center Eaton Cemetery in Eaton County,</div>
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Michigan.</div>
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<i>The photo below was taken in Lyons, New York, not far from Rose.</i></div>
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<i>It is a photo of Hiram and Angeline Cushman Hart.</i></div>
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<i>How I love this photo! I look and look, trying to see little hints of </i></div>
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<i>"who they were."</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh67Nc2fZbRfsIE2dsBU5M1UYGcAtEiI9R6QnY5zfSpBQuOktyOYHDch4ZI4vUbs13RePMl4VueOgv3Ks7Cny4ews4jU_EwwsdZ1K0NPnAuqEQis51GT3WfpOofuv1BSeGWe_EauJHpMBU/s1600/Hart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh67Nc2fZbRfsIE2dsBU5M1UYGcAtEiI9R6QnY5zfSpBQuOktyOYHDch4ZI4vUbs13RePMl4VueOgv3Ks7Cny4ews4jU_EwwsdZ1K0NPnAuqEQis51GT3WfpOofuv1BSeGWe_EauJHpMBU/s1600/Hart.jpg" height="400" width="263" /></a></div>
Bob and Debbie Biggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12866490446167348655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425191448749767759.post-67040472669155126992014-02-04T12:54:00.001-08:002014-02-04T12:54:46.493-08:00The Quadrangle on Fort Sam Houston, San Antonio, Texas--September 2013<div style="text-align: center;">
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This past September, we spent the greater part of the month<br />
camping at the</div>
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campground on Fort Sam Houston. <br />
We were there in San</div>
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Antonio helping Jason, Kerry and the kiddos get ready for </div>
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their move to Burkburnett.</div>
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While we were there, we had the<br />
opportunity to spend a </div>
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bit of time being tourists on the Army Post. <br />
When we lived here</div>
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in the 1980's, we did not have the chance<br />
to check out</div>
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Fort Sam----apart from the great amount of time</div>
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that we spent at BAMC<br />
(Brook Army Medical Center).</div>
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Mary Ellen had 2 major surgeries there, and many,</div>
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many minor procedures.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Hzdhhi5LzovWrBFHZjk2Pv0MRKHiQT5V6LRrkqe5ylpi7afc-Qfcs1C68BLOQMzQOdXaUdql1kpaJU_nLcxBBHURK7lH07dLKJ1BkOnWevEXYQ-mjW_VMXlmTw6hJE2znsMpqhpVfLg/s1600/2013-09-10+Camping+at+Fort+Sam+Houston+003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Hzdhhi5LzovWrBFHZjk2Pv0MRKHiQT5V6LRrkqe5ylpi7afc-Qfcs1C68BLOQMzQOdXaUdql1kpaJU_nLcxBBHURK7lH07dLKJ1BkOnWevEXYQ-mjW_VMXlmTw6hJE2znsMpqhpVfLg/s1600/2013-09-10+Camping+at+Fort+Sam+Houston+003.JPG" height="419" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the Old BAMC. This is where Bob, myself and MaryEllen spent many hours, and several nights. The building is still being used, just not in the Medical Field.</td></tr>
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It was fun having the time to poke around a bit!</div>
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Wow! What an amazing and history-laden post! I wanted to share with </div>
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you all some of the photos from there, and especially from the </div>
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beautiful Quadrangle, right there on Fort Sam.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD-Dr5quiVJI9ucgT1DtRyfCIBjeUTOEfqLqGbLmhkR_JgScfvIm-EvTDRM6is1V7dNlsBuWP-OthyphenhyphenlWZkSwEu5QlZmiDP6quyWMm-s-jXq3_-6tDS3B4exSa_YrnPdVjeqb7Nry857tU/s1600/WP_000676.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD-Dr5quiVJI9ucgT1DtRyfCIBjeUTOEfqLqGbLmhkR_JgScfvIm-EvTDRM6is1V7dNlsBuWP-OthyphenhyphenlWZkSwEu5QlZmiDP6quyWMm-s-jXq3_-6tDS3B4exSa_YrnPdVjeqb7Nry857tU/s1600/WP_000676.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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Above is the view from outside the Quadrangle, by the parking lot. There are several static<br />
displays of artillery, helicopters, tanks, etc. The palms were such<br />
a beautiful backdrop, and some were so tall!<br />
The construction of the Quadrangle began in 1876 and one year later the Quartermaster<br />
Depot moved into it. The Quadrangle was the original Fort Sam Houston and is<br />
the oldest building on the Army Post today, and is still in use.<br />
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The following photos show a few of its wildlife residents . . . . .<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjauu3I1rzRPIt3UpDr6diF6yZqPqyOwOWmt1Rs3awHKMLTOIDi2PkS8J-gn90PubLcpkL876sDF9o0F3gca23yR7_Bd9ltPl682b7kOmRzJ99SrMbLrD7BllQTRHRJdLLNKfcUJzmWLfU/s1600/WP_000691.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjauu3I1rzRPIt3UpDr6diF6yZqPqyOwOWmt1Rs3awHKMLTOIDi2PkS8J-gn90PubLcpkL876sDF9o0F3gca23yR7_Bd9ltPl682b7kOmRzJ99SrMbLrD7BllQTRHRJdLLNKfcUJzmWLfU/s1600/WP_000691.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I loved this goose, we dubbed her/him "Mother Goose!"</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxQ_PNnqRYbbgGjvFvzzmqCt7Gc09vqQXalaxcQH4Vr_8suWIcmdtyLoKnWDS-0aIA-Y6L5Jbk7HuJmbtAN7MiuviQp0lx_UQU16FMzQu4-N8RSHEWSeNx6EkpxMeC42pxe_CQ9GwJgQ8/s1600/WP_000694.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxQ_PNnqRYbbgGjvFvzzmqCt7Gc09vqQXalaxcQH4Vr_8suWIcmdtyLoKnWDS-0aIA-Y6L5Jbk7HuJmbtAN7MiuviQp0lx_UQU16FMzQu4-N8RSHEWSeNx6EkpxMeC42pxe_CQ9GwJgQ8/s1600/WP_000694.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There is food for the wildlife for sale inside the Quadrangle. They all expected that everyone would be passing out food!</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL_-2X0u7TS1DK-P9Lr5LXu0HVC26mB-9lad8Doh9I9AIG83XNx2aQK-0oWgCbUUVH8vtk3SaqnA2N_5evwSp8IlcAvbwJC7dwzOFEfhipErdK5ALrivPJxg0D5WCuKfSDQVxF2QYvkP4/s1600/WP_000699.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL_-2X0u7TS1DK-P9Lr5LXu0HVC26mB-9lad8Doh9I9AIG83XNx2aQK-0oWgCbUUVH8vtk3SaqnA2N_5evwSp8IlcAvbwJC7dwzOFEfhipErdK5ALrivPJxg0D5WCuKfSDQVxF2QYvkP4/s1600/WP_000699.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
<br />
This is a beautiful live oak tree in one corner of the courtyard inside the<br />
Quadrangle. It was so very peaceful the day that we went,<br />
and it was lovely to sit on the benches provided by the tree and just<br />
enjoy God's goodness!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipt6GBAAsWjT46LWrbfGpe2nLDQqTuKXzcFpC5j7DkpCWBkadvGRrFnxaChdzlaRg2XeiL2mVjW6pOn4oAMAZCK6Zgc37X0xEOlc9udP0EDm31daIXGVaTSZ_sk58k2uOfs0S-4u-1O9s/s1600/WP_000700.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipt6GBAAsWjT46LWrbfGpe2nLDQqTuKXzcFpC5j7DkpCWBkadvGRrFnxaChdzlaRg2XeiL2mVjW6pOn4oAMAZCK6Zgc37X0xEOlc9udP0EDm31daIXGVaTSZ_sk58k2uOfs0S-4u-1O9s/s1600/WP_000700.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_qv9VOH0YLvdIejCnAmU-cx00Tor8qolqnF61zOMMLhwWTZ1s3r4NCz28HZa2LUv2rZv-tCN26UzCTSkLXkzAJO-BcjHRfxMYUF7OdDkZjJ6AIBZ0H1Ie0ieMSx0NTlvFx5QEM-8s1Xw/s1600/WP_000704.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_qv9VOH0YLvdIejCnAmU-cx00Tor8qolqnF61zOMMLhwWTZ1s3r4NCz28HZa2LUv2rZv-tCN26UzCTSkLXkzAJO-BcjHRfxMYUF7OdDkZjJ6AIBZ0H1Ie0ieMSx0NTlvFx5QEM-8s1Xw/s1600/WP_000704.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This guy was a hoot! He was not shy or skidish, he posed so nicely for me!</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTQur5kTS3R1KEMIv1_7lQHjtB_E3jKL8A3PXJ9ywalmJERUshLWdaz1EwfqwWjrEi3zP6qaj74cWkj1YXtDxxlKWpQh2p9W9mFV9i9PjJlkhbJKLC1lZbaJe9N2EoFRGdzbEtZyymHgE/s1600/WP_000705.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
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And yes, there were deer right there grazing. They would come right up to you to take the<br />
grain from your hand. They were wary, but not fearful. Beautiful!<br />
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The courtyard of the Quadrangle had many peaceful areas, we loved this one above. As we were walking away, we saw that there were chickens under the foliage! (It was a hot morning, and they were seeking shade.)<br />
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In 1886, Geronimo, the Apache Chief, and about 40 of his tribesmen, were held there at Fort Sam Houston (which was the Quadrangle at the time) before their exile to Florida. Some say that the tradition of the animals in the courtyard started then, that soldiers brought wildlife into the courtyard for Geronimo and men to "hunt." That is not validated, but the story<br />
continues on . . . . .<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHS5GeupMxPJSaIJRiOzvyvUcLa1OlaV_XTAdFNsue6plmFlbLUVaSo_NAIeMUSMTsyAh7fcfyEDIwb4LAPYMdNm791JSirrspFbbPa8sJQSuUuynpID7RNFTSLmEQqN_1-ER7T58UIYE/s1600/WP_000718.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHS5GeupMxPJSaIJRiOzvyvUcLa1OlaV_XTAdFNsue6plmFlbLUVaSo_NAIeMUSMTsyAh7fcfyEDIwb4LAPYMdNm791JSirrspFbbPa8sJQSuUuynpID7RNFTSLmEQqN_1-ER7T58UIYE/s1600/WP_000718.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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Above is the water/clock tower in the Quadrangle. It is 90 feet in<br />
height and used to hold the water tower and<br />
a watchman's station at 60 feet.<br />
Another tale of Geronimo is told in conjunction with this tower.<br />
The tale says that Geronimo had climbed to the top windows of the<br />
tower and was going to jump to his death, not wanting<br />
to be a prisoner of the "white man"--wanting to have<br />
control over his own life and death.<br />
Hence, when a young person jumps from a place of some height<br />
they call out "Geronimo!!"<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyHm4zscr6pNSeaqXvagXfIcfq1mwujclvuqSf0TuCF1yZKrqGjulerF339phqJjPgcIjqX3T_Ss3KwUEfTqsbGi8_Zg43bbMsC-YwTd6_vPQU-_GQBG-vKXgFSZ08Q37_fejsrd-oysM/s1600/WP_000722.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyHm4zscr6pNSeaqXvagXfIcfq1mwujclvuqSf0TuCF1yZKrqGjulerF339phqJjPgcIjqX3T_Ss3KwUEfTqsbGi8_Zg43bbMsC-YwTd6_vPQU-_GQBG-vKXgFSZ08Q37_fejsrd-oysM/s1600/WP_000722.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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Below is one of the plaques by the tower:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo9-kn8IXGwFMsw4q5AYXPP3JMtCtxtgiiz65t22lMsZB5sHM-2LY0K9mUZB9I5SUVzsdfz72sHoobFBaqxkc4Tl8JGiiCnNO5SJRsvQwuBJfQr7UyYr1_wR-nTvLGLE3T7oHNsfvJjCA/s1600/WP_000724.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo9-kn8IXGwFMsw4q5AYXPP3JMtCtxtgiiz65t22lMsZB5sHM-2LY0K9mUZB9I5SUVzsdfz72sHoobFBaqxkc4Tl8JGiiCnNO5SJRsvQwuBJfQr7UyYr1_wR-nTvLGLE3T7oHNsfvJjCA/s1600/WP_000724.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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Below was one of the plaques within the Quadrangle . . . .<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU98Hmw6cgwQ5kdL16JsG2J3AgpfxHPZpFGp9j80tS69H7GXmZIrzi40r3KFORZUUxSh07_0KZsfrvOBc7TrYTVZopxWRSJIxZo-FbK8z1XjeTYo42Y-R6cK5FsaiF06nNxO0shwjutRU/s1600/WP_000726.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU98Hmw6cgwQ5kdL16JsG2J3AgpfxHPZpFGp9j80tS69H7GXmZIrzi40r3KFORZUUxSh07_0KZsfrvOBc7TrYTVZopxWRSJIxZo-FbK8z1XjeTYo42Y-R6cK5FsaiF06nNxO0shwjutRU/s1600/WP_000726.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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If you ever get to San Antonio, and enjoy history, a brief tour of </div>
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Fort Sam Houston is well worth your time. President D.W. Eisenhauer</div>
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was once stationed here, as was General Pershing. Both of those homes</div>
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are on the driving tour. President Teddy Roosevelt was</div>
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also a visitor to the Post.</div>
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There is also a Museum of Military History to include much of Texas'</div>
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military history as well, undergoing a major upgrade. We had the pleasure to</div>
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be able to visit with the curator for a bit one Sunday afternoon. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwrKghdaSfgr7kmoFApRKhhggOiZ2lg4hauzP8ZVgLNRY0rsJ_wq-hN0El264H2gx-iKIfnjf7CnJatyog5zb8vZkLCc4dwveOu_-PGfzRqr010-X9MtEDR_rWu4uYfavmePhgom0m79E/s1600/2013-09-10+Camping+at+Fort+Sam+Houston+006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwrKghdaSfgr7kmoFApRKhhggOiZ2lg4hauzP8ZVgLNRY0rsJ_wq-hN0El264H2gx-iKIfnjf7CnJatyog5zb8vZkLCc4dwveOu_-PGfzRqr010-X9MtEDR_rWu4uYfavmePhgom0m79E/s1600/2013-09-10+Camping+at+Fort+Sam+Houston+006.JPG" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
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Texas sky after a bit of rain---so beautiful!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1ydhewLgwJ0Bk1Mts02uhzOl_Iayw9EFCO2yHVVQzGQp73ShYhSQ4Ly54U4Gw8YOcVfV_97mR8YcsjUzE6ddu67S2lfgJqn8LjW_zBAu_D7e6LXMc2EES5Eutmp9qmOvfgWYLy4z38zQ/s1600/2013-09-10+Camping+at+Fort+Sam+Houston+011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1ydhewLgwJ0Bk1Mts02uhzOl_Iayw9EFCO2yHVVQzGQp73ShYhSQ4Ly54U4Gw8YOcVfV_97mR8YcsjUzE6ddu67S2lfgJqn8LjW_zBAu_D7e6LXMc2EES5Eutmp9qmOvfgWYLy4z38zQ/s1600/2013-09-10+Camping+at+Fort+Sam+Houston+011.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This sculpture is amazing! The detail provokes emotion---seeing the rifle used to hold the IV bag for the wounded . . . . Took my breath away. This is in front of the Medical Museum on the Post.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeKDOig9SC4G16N7BeYBMX0fcucCLFEL5Cj4XjNOHenKIp1vop06hVS4_62guwH-urPhS33sucJkEyPQSIf6DcjCpzFzbwFmWSmfYXFZAN8R4Lz978sxB8W1sQR9h8-GfFOPNv4qiq0wk/s1600/2013-09-10+Camping+at+Fort+Sam+Houston+019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeKDOig9SC4G16N7BeYBMX0fcucCLFEL5Cj4XjNOHenKIp1vop06hVS4_62guwH-urPhS33sucJkEyPQSIf6DcjCpzFzbwFmWSmfYXFZAN8R4Lz978sxB8W1sQR9h8-GfFOPNv4qiq0wk/s1600/2013-09-10+Camping+at+Fort+Sam+Houston+019.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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Bob, Grizz and Bailey checking out some of the vehicles from the past, also at the Museum.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh09VYeqB99VxsZf540wPyxWaKZIfYRLdRiP571fVFR9Y2NLYuT-s1z9k8kSe8oCdXPkUkvVLSB2IaW4w1nwCmfssbCAeWwKmRDsTTtS1392gcfXKl1_TBbtM8n73PW3ThCBz3P5zwj44Y/s1600/2013-09-10+Camping+at+Fort+Sam+Houston+025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh09VYeqB99VxsZf540wPyxWaKZIfYRLdRiP571fVFR9Y2NLYuT-s1z9k8kSe8oCdXPkUkvVLSB2IaW4w1nwCmfssbCAeWwKmRDsTTtS1392gcfXKl1_TBbtM8n73PW3ThCBz3P5zwj44Y/s1600/2013-09-10+Camping+at+Fort+Sam+Houston+025.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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And I HAD to get a photo of the M.A.S.H. copter!</div>
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Wish you could have been there with us! </div>
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Till later . . . . .</div>
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Bob and Debbie Biggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12866490446167348655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425191448749767759.post-71541777691379296392014-02-03T18:49:00.000-08:002014-02-03T18:49:24.162-08:0052 Week Challenge: #3 Mabel Irene Parmelee <div style="text-align: center;">
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Mabel Irene Parmelee was born on the 18th of August in 1881 in either </div>
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Ludington or Amber Township in Mason County, Michigan. </div>
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(No birth certificate can be found at the County Clerk's Office.) </div>
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Her father was Fay Platt Parmelee, the son of Erastus Parmelee</div>
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and Maria Clarissa Shaw Parmelee. Her mother was </div>
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Villa Moore Parmelee, the daughter of Michael Moore </div>
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and Mary Jane Day Moore. Mabel was their eldest daughter. </div>
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Mabel had two brothers born before her, Edwin and</div>
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Edward, but they both died in infancy. I am sure that having already lost two </div>
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children made Mabel and her siblings born later </div>
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even more precious to her parents. There were five more siblings </div>
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born to the Parmelee family, Ella, Mae, Walker,<br />
Eugene and Gladys, all but Gladys lived to adulthood.</div>
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Mabel was my Great Grandmother, my Mother's Mother's Mother.</div>
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I had the good fortune to know my Great Grandmother, and to</div>
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have spent many of my own early years close by. How I loved to </div>
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hear the stories that she would tell me! </div>
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As a child, Mabel and her family lived in Amber, Michigan. Her </div>
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Grandparents and then her own parents ran "Amber Station."</div>
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Amber Station was a stop, a depot, along the train route to Ludington. Her</div>
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parents took in the local mail from the depot, and had a store there</div>
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at the station. Her father also had a blacksmith shop there.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW4MJDP3ctGtzQnplhHCC2l3iyQ106SP6FcLmndfxjOJi_5X47lO28iZIAIV0mkmsyRl6QZUIJhLb1ZECbW2itl2T_C1_xwg0Z_yVaIJ9iTDKo1tuaHMfEKO1Za_5DGrv7O9-Nl2lhV-s/s1600/Amber+Station.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW4MJDP3ctGtzQnplhHCC2l3iyQ106SP6FcLmndfxjOJi_5X47lO28iZIAIV0mkmsyRl6QZUIJhLb1ZECbW2itl2T_C1_xwg0Z_yVaIJ9iTDKo1tuaHMfEKO1Za_5DGrv7O9-Nl2lhV-s/s1600/Amber+Station.jpg" height="504" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Above is a photo of Amber Station taken circa 1901. In the photo, number 12 is Mabel Parmelee, the man and woman in the back row to the far right are her parents, Fay and Villa Parmelee, and the man in the back row on the far left with the wonderful beard, is Mabel's Grandfather, Michael Moore, her mother's father.</span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
One of the stories that Mabel would tell is of when the local Indians would</div>
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come to trade at their store. Usually her parents were</div>
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there to do the trading with them. One day in particular, Mable told </div>
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me, her mother had gone out to the fields to bring in the cows, and </div>
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her father was out as well, and the neighboring Indians came</div>
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to trade. Mabel was quite young, and became very </div>
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afraid of the men with the stern faces. She told me that</div>
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she ran and hid, leaving the poor customers without any</div>
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help at the store. Her mother returned after a time, and </div>
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took care of the trading that was to be done, and the men left,</div>
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with their goods in hand. Mabel did not come out</div>
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until well after they had left. She said she must have been around </div>
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five years old at the time, and scared "near to death!"</div>
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There was another event that happened in Mabel's childhood that </div>
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impacted her for the rest of her days. Mabel had a bicycle</div>
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that she enjoyed riding in the yard. Around the age of nine,</div>
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Mabel was riding her bicycle in the yard, and </div>
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she ran into the water pump. The pump hit her in the knee</div>
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area of her leg, and did a great amount of damage.<br />
There was no ambulance to call, no 911, not even a car to<br />
run Mabel into town to the Doctor's office.<br />
When they did get to the Doctor's office, it was determined that<br />
the damage to Mabel's leg was too great, and they had<br />
to amputate her leg, at the knee.<br />
As time went on, the healing was not going too well,<br />
and soon they were back to the Doctor's as<br />
gangrene was beginning to set in. <br />
So, Mabel endured amputation number two,<br />
losing more of her leg.<br />
This time the healing went well and was closely<br />
monitored. Grandma never told me how<br />
she felt at that age about the amputation,<br />
but she was a very strong woman, and could be, well,<br />
stubborn at times. Perhaps that served her well during<br />
her healing and the slow learning to move about in new ways.<br />
Mabel learned to walk with crutches, run with crutches<br />
and to use those crutches as handy "arm extensions!"<br />
She also used a prosthetic for a time as an adult,<br />
but she had told me that it was a bit of a pain and slowed her down!<br />
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Great Grandma learned to play the piano (loving music), learned to sew,<br />
loved quilting, tatting and crocheting.<br />
She had a great love for her Lord and Savior and<br />
I am sure that her faith (and that of her family) had a<br />
great hand in the healing of her leg.<br />
Mabel had a wonderfully dry sense of humor, and loved to play games--<br />
she loved to laugh!<br />
She also loved to read, as a child and as an adult,<br />
and sought to instill that love in her Grandchildren.<br />
(Her father, Fay Parmelee, was also a lover of<br />
the written word, considering his books as<br />
his friends.)<br />
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How I would have loved to have known my Great Grandmother as<br />
a child!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Zfs49iuaWRFUetdFMYApQWy6FgoKiq0PYpyY3_NQ-jeiOEPI10SlDtBgjEdst0gEsbfxohn8N-fty-JQMlqroos6WfuyYjAZJ1xtxYJ7q5hcHD6UV78AFJzTCRZKqJJCV7XSXZZQpmo/s1600/Cooper,+Mabel+&+Lila.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Zfs49iuaWRFUetdFMYApQWy6FgoKiq0PYpyY3_NQ-jeiOEPI10SlDtBgjEdst0gEsbfxohn8N-fty-JQMlqroos6WfuyYjAZJ1xtxYJ7q5hcHD6UV78AFJzTCRZKqJJCV7XSXZZQpmo/s1600/Cooper,+Mabel+&+Lila.jpg" height="400" width="322" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is a photo of Mabel Irene Parmelee Cooper (on the right, and her daughter,<br />Lila Mae Cooper on the left).</td></tr>
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Bob and Debbie Biggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12866490446167348655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425191448749767759.post-3616887247317740062014-01-24T19:00:00.000-08:002014-01-24T19:17:48.763-08:0052 Week Challenge: #2 Julia Maria Mosher Gaffney<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">JULIA MARIA MOSHER</span></div>
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Julia was the youngest child of Walter Mosher and Eliza Magee Mosher. She was born on the 10th of February in 1841 in Leroy, Lake County, Ohio. Lake County butts up to Lake Erie and is quite close to Pennsylvania. Julia had two older brothers, Hugh Wesley Mosher and Norman Goodwin Mosher, both of whom fought in the Civil War. There were two other children born to Walter and Eliza, but Marintha Mosher and Lucian Mosher did not live to adulthood. A cousin of Julia's was also raised in her family home, Sally Mosher's father, Henry had died and Sally made her home with Walter, Eliza and their family. <br />
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I don't know much at all about Julia's youth. Her grandparents lived close by, as did many aunts and uncles.</div>
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A gentleman by the name of Patrick Henry Gaffney came into Julia's life, and a romance ensued.</div>
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<span style="font-family: georgia,palatino; font-size: x-small;"><i>"Family traditions and stories can often be, well, a bit far from the truth sometimes. It is interesting to learn the bits and pieces of the true course of events, and put them up against the lovely family stories.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: x-small;"><i>A favorite family story is one of my Maternal Grandmother's Grandmother and Grandfather, and how they met and fell in love.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: x-small;"><i>Growing up, we were told how our Grandfather Patrick Gaffney was befriended by the two brothers of our Grandmother, Julia Maria Mosher. Her brothers were Norman and Hugh Mosher. They had both fought in the Civil War, for the Union side. The story goes that after the war, as they were making their way home to Leroy, in Lake County, Ohio, they happened upon a Southern Gentleman in Virginia. They became fast friends, and encouraged their new friend to come along with them. [Some cousins remember hearing that this Gentleman (our own Grandfather Patrick Gaffney) had fought for the Confederate Army during the War Between the States.] So, Patrick decides to go along with Norman and Hugh, back to Ohio. The trio at last reached Leroy. When Julia meets Patrick Gaffney, it is apparently "love at first sight" for both of them. They married not long after.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: x-small;"><i>As I began trying to research our Gaffney line, I came across several documents that began to clarify some of the details of our own "family fairy tale." </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: x-small;"><i>Patrick Gaffney and Julia Maria Mosher were married on the 31st of December in 1859. Hmmm, a few years before the Civil War began. Many of the documents that I have found state that Patrick was born inIreland, so while he may have had the manners and bearing of a Southern Gentleman, he was apparently an Irishman. Some information leads me to believe that Patrick came to Painesville with some of his siblings, at least with a brother Edward/Edwin. They were in the boot/shoe making business together. Norman and Hugh may have made a new friend in Patrick whenever they met him, and they may have brought him home. Quite possibly Julia and Patrick did indeed fall in love at first sight. . . . At least I like to think that they may have! </i></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">It is good to have a few fairy tales in our family stories, and to have bits of mystery that provoke our imaginations!</span> " 2011 by D.Biggs</span></i></div>
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The photo above is presumed to be the wedding photo of </div>
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Julia Maria Mosher </div>
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and </div>
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Patrick Henry Gaffney</div>
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What a handsome couple!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqp0rsrk0DvyNLQVtNVae2J87d4GiL0l4cxASX_yXM1jh1vqNQ6SPdaqZ-bFzeEYnE8i9tbR5BIbWXTNGSdXy09-AUz-747XIatRNulOOvvK_19U4Z4G0iMF1uxnVIP8hepfIARPfsK1w/s1600/Marriage+Record_Gaffney_Mosher.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqp0rsrk0DvyNLQVtNVae2J87d4GiL0l4cxASX_yXM1jh1vqNQ6SPdaqZ-bFzeEYnE8i9tbR5BIbWXTNGSdXy09-AUz-747XIatRNulOOvvK_19U4Z4G0iMF1uxnVIP8hepfIARPfsK1w/s1600/Marriage+Record_Gaffney_Mosher.jpg" height="640" width="464" /></a></div>
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The top entry of this above document is the Wedding Record for Patrick and Julia.</div>
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Julia and Patrick had eight children that we know of: </div>
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William "Will" (my Great Grandfather)</div>
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Mary Eliza "Aunt Liz"</div>
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Edward</div>
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Stephon</div>
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Henry P.</div>
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Katie Estelle</div>
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Cora May</div>
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and </div>
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Walter Stephon Douglas.</div>
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The sons Edward, Stephon and Henry P. were all born in the mid 1860's</div>
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and all died prior to 1870. </div>
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They are buried in the North East Leroy Cemetery.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyilcLqkIX4T28QIuLWjmKwbN6pdKVeLqrHCSvKarL_6Dl8NHiMhVltVs_VBHE0FiqlLPTmobvheqJnWszsyBk768OSn42kJ0vHSrLzprSx_PUXqbYYxi63o7TRzxoEKenCcTUFKKE7D0/s1600/Gaffney%252C+Julia%252C+Cora+%2526+Katie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyilcLqkIX4T28QIuLWjmKwbN6pdKVeLqrHCSvKarL_6Dl8NHiMhVltVs_VBHE0FiqlLPTmobvheqJnWszsyBk768OSn42kJ0vHSrLzprSx_PUXqbYYxi63o7TRzxoEKenCcTUFKKE7D0/s1600/Gaffney%252C+Julia%252C+Cora+%2526+Katie.jpg" height="640" width="446" /></a></div>
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This is a photo of Julia (on the right) with 2 of her</div>
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daughters, Cora and Katie Estelle.</div>
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In 1897, Julia's husband, Patrick, was hospitalized with mental illness.</div>
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He was in the Newburg State Hospital in Cleveland. It was there he died in 1901.</div>
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I can only imagine the strain and the pain Julia must have went through.</div>
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In May of 1904, Julia and Patrick's eldest child, William suffered the loss</div>
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of his wife, Ettie Flood Gaffney. Will and Ettie had a little two year old</div>
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daughter, Evelyn Frances Gaffney, my Grandmother.</div>
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Evelyn went to live with her Grandmother Mosher in Painesville.</div>
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She lived with her Grandmother for six years. </div>
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Evelyn often spoke of those years with Julia and said that they</div>
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were the happiest years of her life, until she met and married</div>
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my Grandfather, Frederick August Dostal.</div>
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She felt wrapped in love and completely cared for.</div>
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She said that her Grandmother was unselfish with her love and with herself.</div>
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On the 18th of March, 1910, Julia Maria Mosher Gaffney</div>
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passed from this world to the next. </div>
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Among those who mourned her loss, was a little eight </div>
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year old Evelyn, who had now lost her 2nd mother figure in her</div>
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short little life.</div>
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The legacy of love that Julia passed to her children and to Evelyn</div>
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lives on and on through passing generations.</div>
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Julia is interred in Evergreen Cemetery next to her husband Patrick.</div>
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Bob and Debbie Biggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12866490446167348655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425191448749767759.post-28251120235368660882014-01-24T17:29:00.000-08:002014-01-24T17:29:11.346-08:00Winter In Texas . . . . .<div style="text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhREpsstzdzi3xREJdes9eDIEmnj1CgUThDFuiM_iJyMmCjeWg0WnSaPoAnZRPcmfovkCnL5T17GRJajHElYuRR0ZYMg3vKshS0oGJz9zYp60VK-bmM7PwLyBNGvqRxJAT4CRLcqp9gXc0/s1600/DSC_0363.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhREpsstzdzi3xREJdes9eDIEmnj1CgUThDFuiM_iJyMmCjeWg0WnSaPoAnZRPcmfovkCnL5T17GRJajHElYuRR0ZYMg3vKshS0oGJz9zYp60VK-bmM7PwLyBNGvqRxJAT4CRLcqp9gXc0/s1600/DSC_0363.JPG" height="427" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">January 7th, 2014, sunset view from our trailer</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">One of Bob's favorite things about Texas, next to our Kiddos and GrandKiddos being here, is the weather in the winter!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We have our cold days, even below zero, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">sometimes snow or sleet.</span><br />
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In early December of this winter, we had a sleet storm. There was tiny bits<br />
of snow mixed in, but what you see is sleet.<br />
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Grizz gets excited and romps around like a pup, grabbing his leash and<br />
trying to chomp at Bailey or Bob's flanks!<br />
He LOVES snow and winter weather!<br />
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Sleet does not deter Bailey from being on "squirrel alert!"<br />
There are tons of squirrels in the park, so she doesn't relax much if she is awake.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNadiSyaoBHHWyMmd5SMj1x2ZsScr1SUmNbp8NGMGXKrDkfJLNWuQExwTuo9ovaCjzeHTWSHtRPlV-fmUr1bfdLFqIrv0u2DTv_aa2bEhyphenhyphenFddkfqInKoRvPQO9eZxRN2gIRg2SRaZKkdw/s1600/2013+December+6_Texas,+Lewisville_Grizz+&+Bailey+in+Snow-Sleet+019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNadiSyaoBHHWyMmd5SMj1x2ZsScr1SUmNbp8NGMGXKrDkfJLNWuQExwTuo9ovaCjzeHTWSHtRPlV-fmUr1bfdLFqIrv0u2DTv_aa2bEhyphenhyphenFddkfqInKoRvPQO9eZxRN2gIRg2SRaZKkdw/s1600/2013+December+6_Texas,+Lewisville_Grizz+&+Bailey+in+Snow-Sleet+019.JPG" height="640" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It looks like Bob is trying to encourage Bailey to hurry along!</td></tr>
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The poor Silverado! The door was frozen<br />
shut for a few days! We stayed very cold<br />
for nearly a week--unusual for here.<br />
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Cold, yes . . . . but oh so beautiful!<br />
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Here in the Dallas-Fort Worth area, the cold is usually pretty short lived.<br />
As you can see, we were right up to shorts weather in<br />
a short bit.<br />
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This was such a lovely evening . . . . the sun was showing off</div>
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God's works of art!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWtQ-9hDVE8t2WSHtYD0pBhistnAOGWAFcm2JfavM7x-mv81AEJ9JLAyzJyiJCLIgO145Aux_ChytYCn7YjPnxqYEuaEne4Wk1SEuWHzGTrJjN3ev29RfGLyJis-TpBG7DZbCbQ5H2tzk/s1600/DSC_0375.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWtQ-9hDVE8t2WSHtYD0pBhistnAOGWAFcm2JfavM7x-mv81AEJ9JLAyzJyiJCLIgO145Aux_ChytYCn7YjPnxqYEuaEne4Wk1SEuWHzGTrJjN3ev29RfGLyJis-TpBG7DZbCbQ5H2tzk/s1600/DSC_0375.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Nearly at that magical time between day and night . . . . .</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I love the colors of dusk, the softness and the depth, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">it's as though every color is magnified.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Last night we had a freeze again---it was down to 16 degrees this morning.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And, tomorrow it is supposed to be in the 60's and on </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Sunday, the 70's . . . . . Then another cold front comes in on</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Monday. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Winter in Texas . . . . . </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkw8u5iX_ai7VXcchC7V5Dy3cNkd7z8_xGPWjKQNFrTUk5uC9rylOkaqAWMijkLgwWuI9wuLJeugwb2foua5450TSU5DABhT71L6nWUsD5MzRbdmBmc-3JkjxClRiPkZF4KtLbWOMSvLQ/s1600/DSC_0388.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkw8u5iX_ai7VXcchC7V5Dy3cNkd7z8_xGPWjKQNFrTUk5uC9rylOkaqAWMijkLgwWuI9wuLJeugwb2foua5450TSU5DABhT71L6nWUsD5MzRbdmBmc-3JkjxClRiPkZF4KtLbWOMSvLQ/s1600/DSC_0388.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Until later Y'all!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">~smile~</span></div>
Bob and Debbie Biggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12866490446167348655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425191448749767759.post-18174066931288128322014-01-08T15:04:00.000-08:002014-01-09T09:44:40.453-08:00A Teeny Bit of Biggs Family History: 52 Week Challenge: #1 Green Biggs<div style="background-color: white; background-image: none !important; border: none !important; color: #333333; float: none !important; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.727272033691406px; line-height: 17.27272605895996px; padding: 0px !important; position: static !important; width: 479.0909118652344px;">
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A few steps into the past . . . . .</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC3507pXiOS1jFjfi1RiX55dGSUa8GTBI2cuFi6UrnopqAo_KTWI2KbqUk1NbdBejP9PLoWvftM2jioxNCYwt2jBvbh4doJ6CiEnsZVILppR356M2A4L_91NjgMpIuBnjQz6FXKve7RHA/s1600/IMG_4374.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC3507pXiOS1jFjfi1RiX55dGSUa8GTBI2cuFi6UrnopqAo_KTWI2KbqUk1NbdBejP9PLoWvftM2jioxNCYwt2jBvbh4doJ6CiEnsZVILppR356M2A4L_91NjgMpIuBnjQz6FXKve7RHA/s1600/IMG_4374.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bob and our grandson Mace beside the memorial stone for their Great Grandmother and Great x3 Grandmother Olive Young Biggs, and her son, little Almer Biggs. This was in Floral Hill Cemetery outside of Hoopeston, Illinois.</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'andale mono', times; line-height: 17.27272605895996px;">As I work through our families' histories, every so often, I come across relatives that I am researching that take a special hold in my heart. That was certainly so with Green and Olive. They had captivated me even before I knew much about them. So often, events in the lives of our ancestors, how those events shaped their lives and their responses to them, touch our lives even today and add a bit to </span><i style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'andale mono', times; line-height: 17.27272605895996px;">who we are</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'andale mono', times; line-height: 17.27272605895996px;">. </span><br />
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<div style="background-color: white; background-image: none !important; border: none !important; color: #333333; float: none !important; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.727272033691406px; line-height: 17.27272605895996px; padding: 0px !important; position: static !important; width: 479.0909118652344px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIQ0IDcVRB0jrwOBJUflloHLMRyxZfDCXuNLDiEbpaf_hgNGKXH8Htw-_ukij0N82yi8BSlwtSkvjoVLUGa5iR5qNdUxN0I8WXqKUgSgp6ljeWtZXUqeBF9546AEsxnbWRrRPZ7oPIYRA/s1600/CemeteryPhoto_Biggs_Green5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><span style="font-family: 'andale mono', times; font-size: small;">Green Biggs was born to Reuben Biggs and Olive Wilson Biggs on January 12th in 1835. Reuben and Olive were separated at the time of Green's birth, and they were divorced the next year. Both Reuben and Olive were living in Fountain County, Indiana at the time of his birth, but Olive was living with her parents when Green was born. Records show that on the 8th of November in 1836, Olive Biggs married Benjamin Jones in Fountain County, Indiana, but it does not appear that Olive and Benjamin took little Green to live with them. Green was raised by his grandparents, John Wesley Wilson and Lydia Ellen "Lida" Green Wilson and can be found with them in the 1850 U.S. Federal Census. </span><span style="font-family: 'andale mono', times; font-size: small; line-height: 18.18181800842285px;"> On the 13th of May in 1856, Green married Mary Goings in Clay County, Indiana. They were only married briefly, and divorced in 1860.</span><span style="font-family: 'andale mono', times; font-size: small; line-height: 1.3;"> I have a transcription of their marriage, and in Green's military enlistment interview, he states that he is divorced.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIQ0IDcVRB0jrwOBJUflloHLMRyxZfDCXuNLDiEbpaf_hgNGKXH8Htw-_ukij0N82yi8BSlwtSkvjoVLUGa5iR5qNdUxN0I8WXqKUgSgp6ljeWtZXUqeBF9546AEsxnbWRrRPZ7oPIYRA/s1600/CemeteryPhoto_Biggs_Green5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIQ0IDcVRB0jrwOBJUflloHLMRyxZfDCXuNLDiEbpaf_hgNGKXH8Htw-_ukij0N82yi8BSlwtSkvjoVLUGa5iR5qNdUxN0I8WXqKUgSgp6ljeWtZXUqeBF9546AEsxnbWRrRPZ7oPIYRA/s1600/CemeteryPhoto_Biggs_Green5.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Green's gravestone was in 3 levels, This level shows his military Company and Regiment.<br />
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<span style="font-family: 'andale mono', times; font-size: small; line-height: 1.3;">According to Green's Military Service Records, Green was a farmer by trade---following in his father's footsteps and his father's before him. I was able to order the Military Service Records for Green from the National Archives. It was amazing to read all the documentation enclosed. Green Biggs was in the 60th Regiment of the Indiana Volunteer Infantry and the Indiana Veteran Volunteers, in Companies D and K during the Civil War. His health was effected by his time of service in the Civil War. After his discharge from the Union army, Green met and married Olive Young, the daughter of Jesse Young and Sarah Jane VanCamp Young.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Above: the front side of Green and Olive's marriage license and Below: the back side, with the note from William Glaze.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'andale mono', times; font-size: small; line-height: 1.3;">Green and Olive were married on the 20th of April in 1865 in Rossville, Vermillion County, Illinois. On the back of their marriage license, is a note written by Olive's brother-in-law, William Glaze, stating that Olive had lived with them in the Vermilion County, Illinois area for about 3 years. Green and Olive's union was blessed with 5 children (that we are aware of), 2 of them a set of twins. Their children were: William Sherman (26 Feb 1866 - 1 Jul 1927), Jesse Grant (26 Sep 1867 - 20 Feb 1955), Elias Martin (28 Aug 1869 - 12 Jan 1940), and twins Almer (15 Sep 1878 - 14 Mar 1882) and Alma Jane (15 Sep 1878 - 7 Apr 1946). (Green's obituary also speaks of a son, Francis, but I have found nothing at this point concerning him---it may have been and error in the information given to the paper.) </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The small headstone for young Almer Biggs.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Olive Young Biggs and Almer Biggs grave marker</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'andale mono', times; font-size: small; line-height: 1.3;">Green apparently got "Kansas Fever" and took his young family by wagon westward. The twins were born along the way in Missouri Valley, Iowa. They family ended up in Prairie Dog, Kansas. They lived in a sod home, by the river. Shortly after arriving, Green's wife Olive became gravely ill with what turned out to be cancer. She ended up having to take the twins and young Elias and go back east to Hoopeston, Illinois to her sister and brother-in-law's home (William and Isabell Glaze). She would have the care of her sister and doctors. She died there a short time after arriving, and little Almer, one of the twins, just four years old, died a few months later of diphtheria. Green must have been heartsick, plus had his hands full with the daily care of the home and the older boys and trying to "prove up" on the land. The west was still fairly wild and the challenges were daily for the little family group. It appears as though Elias and Alma Jane stayed east with Olive's family, not returning to the west with their father. Green's son Jesse was later interviewed by a reporter for the Journal and Courier, the Lafayette, Indiana newspaper about some of his memories of life on the prairie. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A close up of the engraving on Olive's side of their marker.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Green's grave marker is straight ahead, just to the left.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Green Biggs' grave marker in Armstrong Cemetery</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'andale mono', times; font-size: small; line-height: 1.3;">Green eventually ended up moving back to Indiana. His health was failing him as time moved on, losing all of his hearing in one ear and much of his hearing in the other. His pension file includes reports from his physicians, they state he had much suffering from heart issues as well. Green Biggs died on the 27th of October in 1918 in Tippecanoe County, Indiana. He was 83 years old. He is buried in Armstrong Cemetery close to his son Jesse Grant Biggs.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bob, his brother Ed, and our grandson Mace . . . .<br />
some of Green Biggs and Olive Young Biggs descendants.</td></tr>
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Till next time . . . . .</div>
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<!-- Blogger automated replacement: "https://images-blogger-opensocial.googleusercontent.com/gadgets/proxy?url=http%3A%2F%2F1.bp.blogspot.com%2F-owKUyZm2gXY%2FUs3Ixixm8_I%2FAAAAAAAAGvc%2Fz2234ob9Vf8%2Fs1600%2FCemeteryPhoto_Biggs_Green5.JPG&container=blogger&gadget=a&rewriteMime=image%2F*" with "https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIQ0IDcVRB0jrwOBJUflloHLMRyxZfDCXuNLDiEbpaf_hgNGKXH8Htw-_ukij0N82yi8BSlwtSkvjoVLUGa5iR5qNdUxN0I8WXqKUgSgp6ljeWtZXUqeBF9546AEsxnbWRrRPZ7oPIYRA/s1600/CemeteryPhoto_Biggs_Green5.JPG" -->Bob and Debbie Biggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12866490446167348655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425191448749767759.post-89191769859619699502013-11-20T08:58:00.000-08:002013-11-22T12:52:58.118-08:00Beautiful, Beautiful Mountains . . . . .!<div style="text-align: center;">
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A few weeks ago,<br />
Bob and I had the blessing of being able to spend 4 days in the Blue Ridge Mountains.</div>
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We stayed at a beautiful campground in Maggie Valley, North Carolina.</div>
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We had a gurgling stream right outside our back window, and the mountains on all 4 sides of us!</div>
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There were lovely tall trees and we were even treated to a very heavy frost one morning! :-)<br />
We <i>love</i> the mountains!!! Some years ago, when Mama and Daddy moved<br />
back to Michigan from Washington state, Mama had called to apologize<br />
to me for the move . . . . . I told her that I was thrilled that they would be back "home"<br />
and asked why on earth she would apologize . . . . . She said that she knew how much Bob and<br />
I loved the mountains, and she was sorry to be taking that trip away!!!! <br />
What an amazing Mama---she always put our likes and loves above her own . . . .<br />
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This was the view directly behind our trailer . . . . . love the smokey mist in the mountains! (Hence, the Great Smokey Mountains . . . .)</div>
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This a a shot of the campground and the mountains to the front of us.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxdez6A4Rwj9VFVm6h6DqJOViFXV43J53rRGdW2EnINImNvQSRG5l1tNFwjg64d1cvxEhyphenhyphenNF_in7752Qburt45w9B9rOYOQ7UID95rpFnHMMXvmYFwwYx7GzJHXe5xZ3T9PXXzJpZA1es/s1600/2013-11-07+2013+Novemeber+7_Maggie+Valley,+North+Carolina+011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxdez6A4Rwj9VFVm6h6DqJOViFXV43J53rRGdW2EnINImNvQSRG5l1tNFwjg64d1cvxEhyphenhyphenNF_in7752Qburt45w9B9rOYOQ7UID95rpFnHMMXvmYFwwYx7GzJHXe5xZ3T9PXXzJpZA1es/s640/2013-11-07+2013+Novemeber+7_Maggie+Valley,+North+Carolina+011.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Another shot from the campground ---- every view was so beautiful!</div>
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Above: Home Sweet Home!</div>
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We were in Maggie Valley the first week in November, and the tourist season was ended, so we did not have the traffic and tourist busy-ness to contend with, it was nice being able to enjoy the beauty at a slower pace and not be rushed along.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQM3Nuu94tJ1QPxIp2TwNL64_spW8FMVDbDmh9deU6MONTZ5vULB2brma4320JFpxOdh-Vp2HkjjDOd4QxC9NmqBi3f_P_AOeCdA7a-ZqQ5WoLnw7b1p0kJg6U8GqbAt9W_I_qcaSp2-Q/s1600/2013-11-04+2013+November+4_Maggie+Valley,+North+Carolina_Great+Smokey+Mountains+National+Park+001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQM3Nuu94tJ1QPxIp2TwNL64_spW8FMVDbDmh9deU6MONTZ5vULB2brma4320JFpxOdh-Vp2HkjjDOd4QxC9NmqBi3f_P_AOeCdA7a-ZqQ5WoLnw7b1p0kJg6U8GqbAt9W_I_qcaSp2-Q/s640/2013-11-04+2013+November+4_Maggie+Valley,+North+Carolina_Great+Smokey+Mountains+National+Park+001.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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The photos above and below are taken on the outskirts of Maggie Valley, and are said to be the "most photographed area in the Smokey Mountains."</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvm3o5IqHi5WtcEwQYc-KIhuY3o88aGNTxqg36QNJ2MfeWAnQ6jUEXc4RqJFsseoNjn72nRQmiG_eJb1-qH0NWFbgZXgpQDi5KCzlMipb0Z8IJCcfVh0xx0MnknI-8JnL_B5lNw9LgdlM/s1600/2013-11-04+2013+November+4_Maggie+Valley,+North+Carolina_Great+Smokey+Mountains+National+Park+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvm3o5IqHi5WtcEwQYc-KIhuY3o88aGNTxqg36QNJ2MfeWAnQ6jUEXc4RqJFsseoNjn72nRQmiG_eJb1-qH0NWFbgZXgpQDi5KCzlMipb0Z8IJCcfVh0xx0MnknI-8JnL_B5lNw9LgdlM/s640/2013-11-04+2013+November+4_Maggie+Valley,+North+Carolina_Great+Smokey+Mountains+National+Park+002.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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While in Maggie Valley, we had the Great Smokey Mountains National Park <i>very</i> close by, and also the Blue Ridge Parkway, so we took advantage of our proximity! </div>
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Both the park and the parkway are amazing to visit . . . .. we had not been to the park since 1973 and the parkway since 1998---the beauty seemed to have multiplied!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia46nleTV_it306uNJKT-1egwAS86K1PYzsAibCriavmJ7FM2OvEuecdJKMEoEXOOvih8Nheq0a1KN-RbPEVYFdSHUAzcEeomWNAtWre4pG1QCJhga38sRqTWJIZgA61QFx48cwE_RUFo/s1600/2013-11-04+2013+November+4_Maggie+Valley,+North+Carolina_Great+Smokey+Mountains+National+Park+034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia46nleTV_it306uNJKT-1egwAS86K1PYzsAibCriavmJ7FM2OvEuecdJKMEoEXOOvih8Nheq0a1KN-RbPEVYFdSHUAzcEeomWNAtWre4pG1QCJhga38sRqTWJIZgA61QFx48cwE_RUFo/s640/2013-11-04+2013+November+4_Maggie+Valley,+North+Carolina_Great+Smokey+Mountains+National+Park+034.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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The park has a few entrances, we entered from the Cherokee, North Carolina point, and went on over to Gatlinburg, Tennessee, got fuel in Pigeon Forge and then exited back in Cherokee.</div>
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This pioneer village is at the visitor center in the park. On our way back to Maggie Valley that late afternoon, we saw around 6-8 elk in the open meadow area right by this village---unfortunately it appeared as though <i>everyone</i> in the park had all stopped to watch and take photos, so we missed our </div>
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photo . . . . . Next time!</div>
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The drive we took followed this lovely stream much of the way . . . . . it was wonderful to just listen to the gurgling and the rushing! What a delightful sound!</div>
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Usually I am the one behind the camera lens, but Bob changed </div>
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spots with me, he indicated we needed some visual proof that I was there too! :-)</div>
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<i>"The mountains are calling, and I must go." John Muir</i></div>
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Grizz and Bailey really enjoyed being out in nature, the smells, the sights, the TREES that must have squirrels!!!<br />
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They would have preferred to be able to be out of the truck at all times, and to run free with no leash . . . . Bailey would have had her nose to the ground and off on a hunt :-)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqknyUJ_briJbnZxVmt3pxXoml6tCZGQn3arBeqcBF1g9qO2dGZxz6CrgLlcRkbdwm7WEg-Vl_fQxdOtTjeEFdiFBSMBUi01LpJxdt46aIw2w6wTElj80iCvvhp3pwTwF5L_oCkASitlI/s1600/2013-11-04+2013+November+4_Maggie+Valley,+North+Carolina_Great+Smokey+Mountains+National+Park+120.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqknyUJ_briJbnZxVmt3pxXoml6tCZGQn3arBeqcBF1g9qO2dGZxz6CrgLlcRkbdwm7WEg-Vl_fQxdOtTjeEFdiFBSMBUi01LpJxdt46aIw2w6wTElj80iCvvhp3pwTwF5L_oCkASitlI/s640/2013-11-04+2013+November+4_Maggie+Valley,+North+Carolina_Great+Smokey+Mountains+National+Park+120.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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I could never grow tired of this view! I imagine that the Lord</div>
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smiled when he created this area, knowing how the views, the power of being surrounded by</div>
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His workmanship, would render us speechless.</div>
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There was no view that was unappealing</div>
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Such a lovely contrast of colors. . . . .</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRSGMA-rUo8XmK81obyQDGdW-ISzNEHC6a5QZQEWXn6n0I3EkXDoHGsFgGuROCTT6_ggy2lYBowDsfdX7Rlmt8U9fbN-SOjJvBRZ02XMVQtMnwl1iAH3O4GGUOFLVty4KPUbLsX9YIbVU/s1600/2013-11-04+2013+November+4_Maggie+Valley,+North+Carolina_Great+Smokey+Mountains+National+Park+154.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRSGMA-rUo8XmK81obyQDGdW-ISzNEHC6a5QZQEWXn6n0I3EkXDoHGsFgGuROCTT6_ggy2lYBowDsfdX7Rlmt8U9fbN-SOjJvBRZ02XMVQtMnwl1iAH3O4GGUOFLVty4KPUbLsX9YIbVU/s640/2013-11-04+2013+November+4_Maggie+Valley,+North+Carolina_Great+Smokey+Mountains+National+Park+154.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Out for a bit of a walk . . . . .</div>
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As you can see, the day was amazingly beautiful! (This is one of my favorite photos) The temps were cool, I had to stop and </div>
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get a sweatshirt on the way---but it felt so good, so very refreshing!</div>
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The road was <i>chiseled</i> into the mountainside! Look how this rocky overhang looks like </div>
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a face . . . . . see his eyes looking down to the road, or further on down the </div>
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mountain . . . . . .</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB3Q7h6AEcI84AOS90cXPy2OygdNZcXlPPFOe8nSfMDthiCPBRR63W_IuaE0QbcoVMpDgx2rJDMmD2wVytsol4k9yH-SFfUebgKKjZXz_Piox-J4GZZG9Ws_YA6GRaPr_i-9zFWkTU0a8/s1600/2013-11-06+2013+November+6_Great+Smokey+Mountains+National+Park__Cade's+Cove+159.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB3Q7h6AEcI84AOS90cXPy2OygdNZcXlPPFOe8nSfMDthiCPBRR63W_IuaE0QbcoVMpDgx2rJDMmD2wVytsol4k9yH-SFfUebgKKjZXz_Piox-J4GZZG9Ws_YA6GRaPr_i-9zFWkTU0a8/s640/2013-11-06+2013+November+6_Great+Smokey+Mountains+National+Park__Cade's+Cove+159.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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This is in Cade's Cove, a very popular area of the park. There were beautiful meadows, old, old churches and homes---much history!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbWfIHnpO0IweDknAj9DE7jhNDj81gw1_OUj8AONJEMpwy6YxY2nlpa1Ouj9RjVBi76CPLYB9aCruB7apHvCD8La24YhqvnKnMolEaYhO2AZwoolNGmeEb7tzULN2kRnejv15a_PYhLeQ/s1600/2013-11-06+2013+November+6_Great+Smokey+Mountains+National+Park__Cade's+Cove+265.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbWfIHnpO0IweDknAj9DE7jhNDj81gw1_OUj8AONJEMpwy6YxY2nlpa1Ouj9RjVBi76CPLYB9aCruB7apHvCD8La24YhqvnKnMolEaYhO2AZwoolNGmeEb7tzULN2kRnejv15a_PYhLeQ/s640/2013-11-06+2013+November+6_Great+Smokey+Mountains+National+Park__Cade's+Cove+265.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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One of the old cabins in Cade's Cove. This one belonged to Carter Shields.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLYpB82YvTScpWEAKslN2UDaZMtNWkV7hZjBOn-Ekux3rydraUvUTANLS5-7QlMWHPPXKB1iy90G84MBgw8J-A2G-3s7_jQoyA3YM7ZNlxg4bfYEUl63rjbndA2lC8U79F6tOvoUMmzQI/s1600/2013-11-04+2013+November+4_Maggie+Valley,+North+Carolina_Great+Smokey+Mountains+National+Park+221.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLYpB82YvTScpWEAKslN2UDaZMtNWkV7hZjBOn-Ekux3rydraUvUTANLS5-7QlMWHPPXKB1iy90G84MBgw8J-A2G-3s7_jQoyA3YM7ZNlxg4bfYEUl63rjbndA2lC8U79F6tOvoUMmzQI/s640/2013-11-04+2013+November+4_Maggie+Valley,+North+Carolina_Great+Smokey+Mountains+National+Park+221.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i>"Reading about nature is fine, but if a person walks in the woods and listens carefully, he can learn more than what is in books, for they speak with the voice of God."</i><br />
<i>George Washington Carver</i><br />
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These peaks are called "Chimney Rocks"<br />
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This was taken on our drive back to the trailer. There was so much I wanted to capture with<br />
my camera, but time moves on, and the veil of evening's darkness falls much more<br />
quickly in the mountains<br />
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So, we made our way back to Maggie Valley, both exhilarated and exhausted!<br />
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The next outting was to the Blue Ridge Parkway!<br />
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Till next time dear family and friends . . . . .<br />
Bob and Deb<br />
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Bob and Debbie Biggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12866490446167348655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425191448749767759.post-72042367218543076022013-10-30T19:09:00.000-07:002013-10-30T19:24:44.414-07:00<div style="text-align: center;">
In September, Bob and I had the treat of being able to help Jason, Kerry, Danny, Karen and Ashley Mae move from the San Antonio area to Burkburnett, Texas.</div>
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Jason just retired from 20 years of service in the U.S. Air Force! We are very proud of, and grateful for, his service to our Country. </div>
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<i> ***Let me take just a minute here to thank each and every one of you, and of your family members, who are reading and who are serving, or have served, for the sacrifices that you both made, and were willing to make, for each and every American.</i> <i>Freedom comes at a high price, and far too many citizens do not understand or appreciate the cost. We thank you!***</i></div>
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Jason is finishing his Master's Degree and hopes to begin his Doctorate's soon after. Kerry is about to graduate with her Bachelor's Degree in Education (she is carrying a 4.0 + average and will graduate with honors!) and hopes to be teaching soon in the Burkburnett school system. Before being transferred to San Antonio, Jason was stationed at Shepperd AFB in Wichita Falls (10 miles from Burkburnett) for several years. They loved it there, and that is where they decided to retire.</div>
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So, it is fun for them to be able to see friends that they made while they were there, and the kiddos are not entering a school system that they are unfamiliar with . . . . . . . </div>
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<u>LABOR DAY COOKOUT AT THE CAMPGROUND</u></div>
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We camped at Fort Sam Houston, an Army Post in San Antonio while we were there. It was a great campground, clean, good sized lots, very nice folks . . . . .</div>
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Labor Day, we had a cook out there by the camper. The canopy worked great to help keep the sun and heat off of us . . . . . . that is, until a great gust of wind tried to take it away! Bob and Jason moved quick as a flash and grabbed the poles! . . . . . . Making Memories . . . . . :-)</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK1QUiAYzggUFaR5JPFNAJAx59o9Nj1_qgCbTdukHV55K4E5QjGUvkpJA9Y0GjWnadMtNh_oLXr38K3P_OEX45AiBeCeK8fxidbJHpVWQpI1zUzxsup2UvB99_jNR336Hl7VBRJfRT6dQ/s1600/2013-09-02+2013+Sep+2+Labor+Day+Cookout+Fort+Sam+Campground+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK1QUiAYzggUFaR5JPFNAJAx59o9Nj1_qgCbTdukHV55K4E5QjGUvkpJA9Y0GjWnadMtNh_oLXr38K3P_OEX45AiBeCeK8fxidbJHpVWQpI1zUzxsup2UvB99_jNR336Hl7VBRJfRT6dQ/s640/2013-09-02+2013+Sep+2+Labor+Day+Cookout+Fort+Sam+Campground+002.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Danny on the left, Robert and Karen on the right.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1vZw2_dgpV_GzabD83bBf4Z3lTUAokXX2xzr_RPjfFr9aEE_bMOK1-V3kqMDVmGOar2b68iJXhlw7qBjvfQ8GjBOnjEHsJ4nJj0IDZI2PTGKdEDDE6h91gfkBv8oLVZr2YKJJENnswB0/s1600/2013-09-02+2013+Sep+2+Labor+Day+Cookout+Fort+Sam+Campground+003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1vZw2_dgpV_GzabD83bBf4Z3lTUAokXX2xzr_RPjfFr9aEE_bMOK1-V3kqMDVmGOar2b68iJXhlw7qBjvfQ8GjBOnjEHsJ4nJj0IDZI2PTGKdEDDE6h91gfkBv8oLVZr2YKJJENnswB0/s640/2013-09-02+2013+Sep+2+Labor+Day+Cookout+Fort+Sam+Campground+003.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tex, alias Jason, or J.D. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXmpFPlPzRA85sQhrUkBknbJKLHzjucDBbLiZ0sK2L4TXNNLwqbnIBY3wSbDAdGY5uYTqtcNgBVRo9aHrb-ItJCGMZa3j9VF0e8bnqamkXHVMpNOSUFCBpBgrI1Y1ZWV-hfmUCNh8jbIs/s1600/2013-09-02+2013+Sep+2+Labor+Day+Cookout+Fort+Sam+Campground+004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXmpFPlPzRA85sQhrUkBknbJKLHzjucDBbLiZ0sK2L4TXNNLwqbnIBY3wSbDAdGY5uYTqtcNgBVRo9aHrb-ItJCGMZa3j9VF0e8bnqamkXHVMpNOSUFCBpBgrI1Y1ZWV-hfmUCNh8jbIs/s640/2013-09-02+2013+Sep+2+Labor+Day+Cookout+Fort+Sam+Campground+004.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kerry and Duke . . . . .</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlGwC2_DbmaOpnZQyzshdDuGTNONVNTCVpxJcTi7BuX_l5TIMFhJEjXo97h0AKj1vbJ50m_RuCHHE083ZxzwUwTN3bt63CmMm1lx-Irk2-6rga5TnIpgdQM6TsGl9_KBiRytN7oyLZE5E/s1600/2013-09-02+2013+Sep+2+Labor+Day+Cookout+Fort+Sam+Campground+005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlGwC2_DbmaOpnZQyzshdDuGTNONVNTCVpxJcTi7BuX_l5TIMFhJEjXo97h0AKj1vbJ50m_RuCHHE083ZxzwUwTN3bt63CmMm1lx-Irk2-6rga5TnIpgdQM6TsGl9_KBiRytN7oyLZE5E/s640/2013-09-02+2013+Sep+2+Labor+Day+Cookout+Fort+Sam+Campground+005.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kerry was telling us a story . . . . .</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb7iVn5QNIb4pQnki7kRIKDk0_cyD5IuRM3acCI0GfqGeOVmcj-ccNDkUuvt6IFS9ViVLVuE3JkNC3pFSlsozU-67S5k0mSajgYn4rHRg8BRRvypo4EAShvIb6_abVXc8gq-CvvOlVZ1M/s1600/2013-09-02+2013+Sep+2+Labor+Day+Cookout+Fort+Sam+Campground+012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb7iVn5QNIb4pQnki7kRIKDk0_cyD5IuRM3acCI0GfqGeOVmcj-ccNDkUuvt6IFS9ViVLVuE3JkNC3pFSlsozU-67S5k0mSajgYn4rHRg8BRRvypo4EAShvIb6_abVXc8gq-CvvOlVZ1M/s640/2013-09-02+2013+Sep+2+Labor+Day+Cookout+Fort+Sam+Campground+012.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Ashley Mae----our Cowgirl :-)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ6K58g3yqqPTxCZ0RPMtc_g45LBxn-Rrrf2Yg5qIvqXC6pRm-j8hgv5d_7OL7i8iqw0bT6IUT5HJlryg4mNHSgxOuaZ_jkc3wOrgLPKSYda-nmnAT0kDFjuVWBGJc_nzQaI2sFRc3uR8/s1600/2013-09-02+2013+Sep+2+Labor+Day+Cookout+Fort+Sam+Campground+013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ6K58g3yqqPTxCZ0RPMtc_g45LBxn-Rrrf2Yg5qIvqXC6pRm-j8hgv5d_7OL7i8iqw0bT6IUT5HJlryg4mNHSgxOuaZ_jkc3wOrgLPKSYda-nmnAT0kDFjuVWBGJc_nzQaI2sFRc3uR8/s640/2013-09-02+2013+Sep+2+Labor+Day+Cookout+Fort+Sam+Campground+013.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Karen keeping the text messages going good . . . . .</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_TkbDEOKS5NSiy6C6do4PCTKLiRTWEWXAM0wakXft9ZOO4Phqmj8U3WXNPBNwuqNy11abiORt3pbesbNVE5nVgFVk4hfY7kwtRxKswZX5KrV-m_TK8zRNTzIjHzoSbTAW59Mz3ENjWmY/s1600/2013-09-02+2013+Sep+2+Labor+Day+Cookout+Fort+Sam+Campground+016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_TkbDEOKS5NSiy6C6do4PCTKLiRTWEWXAM0wakXft9ZOO4Phqmj8U3WXNPBNwuqNy11abiORt3pbesbNVE5nVgFVk4hfY7kwtRxKswZX5KrV-m_TK8zRNTzIjHzoSbTAW59Mz3ENjWmY/s640/2013-09-02+2013+Sep+2+Labor+Day+Cookout+Fort+Sam+Campground+016.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Danny is growing into such a young man . . . . . .</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjudQPHvSxJtn8SFAiiukLz_AKO49wOWqqRj9PJg_RfrwfP_15Yhk0mJAhn2tjFc6phkWYiaeQ0kgt4_hSJd50VnI0ux4k8BuWPg4BYtFJyERNnyX7G3PQh65BpS53JiDLyyUnu27ZM7dM/s1600/2013-09-02+2013+Sep+2+Labor+Day+Cookout+Fort+Sam+Campground+018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjudQPHvSxJtn8SFAiiukLz_AKO49wOWqqRj9PJg_RfrwfP_15Yhk0mJAhn2tjFc6phkWYiaeQ0kgt4_hSJd50VnI0ux4k8BuWPg4BYtFJyERNnyX7G3PQh65BpS53JiDLyyUnu27ZM7dM/s640/2013-09-02+2013+Sep+2+Labor+Day+Cookout+Fort+Sam+Campground+018.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Duke, or the Dukester!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha0xVzNMv6CQ1YdKBBJr8S6gDHqiTqdtlI-vkf6iPlsoRwjM0Pwfa4c20wwQkN1aKxQH8BDx2h6i9g11aERSHWgGY_0PL4ls_AjT1-ve0Peqkh7QuUIQw_NH4oRAwkniR4v9kBfhMMot0/s1600/2013-09-02+2013+Sep+2+Labor+Day+Cookout+Fort+Sam+Campground+019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha0xVzNMv6CQ1YdKBBJr8S6gDHqiTqdtlI-vkf6iPlsoRwjM0Pwfa4c20wwQkN1aKxQH8BDx2h6i9g11aERSHWgGY_0PL4ls_AjT1-ve0Peqkh7QuUIQw_NH4oRAwkniR4v9kBfhMMot0/s640/2013-09-02+2013+Sep+2+Labor+Day+Cookout+Fort+Sam+Campground+019.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bob giving Jason some OJT on retirement!!!!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZa04xsDceNe7DI8OFmo5trhrOSV90Aqtq_2jI0dr2R_z9fheh1dUt-y7p4cv-Lt1Jn31N-s8ZBJGEqQs9i2zzjde5OqgO2qZKf5BLRkgrVgCDIYvrGcn9oYkfpzygHPnlPgYqdd11iAQ/s1600/2013-09-02+2013+Sep+2+Labor+Day+Cookout+Fort+Sam+Campground+022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZa04xsDceNe7DI8OFmo5trhrOSV90Aqtq_2jI0dr2R_z9fheh1dUt-y7p4cv-Lt1Jn31N-s8ZBJGEqQs9i2zzjde5OqgO2qZKf5BLRkgrVgCDIYvrGcn9oYkfpzygHPnlPgYqdd11iAQ/s640/2013-09-02+2013+Sep+2+Labor+Day+Cookout+Fort+Sam+Campground+022.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The colors of the sunset were so vibrant, I couldn't capture the colors very well, but it was a beautiful ending to such a wonderful day!<br />
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This is amazing to be able to be able to pull up stakes and head south to be available to Jason and Kerry! In the past, with work, the flexibility just was not there. We are so thankful!<br />
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Plus, it is great to get them closer to the DFW area once again! <br />
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Blessings and Hugs----till next time!<br />
Bob and Deb<br />
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Bob and Debbie Biggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12866490446167348655noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425191448749767759.post-23071780105011953712013-10-29T10:51:00.000-07:002013-10-29T10:51:29.334-07:00A Beautiful Misty Morning In South Carolina . . . . . .<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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A beautiful good morning from Abbeville, South Carolina! This morning we were greeted by a light mist that was so lovely, I had to get out the camera!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmWJeEvZTf0ynbjTHvGszhnlsrIl4MXj_GqJVNUZSDMYkZH52oVok4udbZR1p6t8xlCpNFliGhPQHJcHUrctZ03CuBigkX7plUBBEnojpNvSwhuqFSieY_ljfJsBs1hlDvYhgEEfG7w68/s1600/2013-10-29+2013+October+29++Abbeville,+South+Carolina_Dean's++Morning+Mist+018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmWJeEvZTf0ynbjTHvGszhnlsrIl4MXj_GqJVNUZSDMYkZH52oVok4udbZR1p6t8xlCpNFliGhPQHJcHUrctZ03CuBigkX7plUBBEnojpNvSwhuqFSieY_ljfJsBs1hlDvYhgEEfG7w68/s640/2013-10-29+2013+October+29++Abbeville,+South+Carolina_Dean's++Morning+Mist+018.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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This month, we have been visiting a very good friend of ours, Dean Landmesser. Dean was the first person that Bob met at Myrtle Beach Air Force Base, all those years ago----well, in 1974.</div>
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Dean, like several of our friends from those days and through the years, have become family.</div>
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Dean has a love of the outdoors and camping, and has warmly shared his home, his family and friends, and his heart with us . . . . . blessings all the way around!</div>
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These photos on this blog today are from Dean's place in Abbeville.</div>
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Many of you know my love of history and genealogy. . . . . well, this wonderful home is on Dean's land. I was immediately intrigued. It once belonged to a Doctor in the area. It has no electricity or water running to it. There is also a smaller home on the land that once belonged to the Fortisque family, who worked for the Doctor. We have not discovered the good Dr.'s name yet, but it has been fun to try to trace some information on the land and its prior owners. Maybe one day we can share these photos with descendants ...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGqsWERWI_xNA9i8ikmUPQv2H4WkGwV_OTWUwfPb2a5MJF8Zt-0oAPmQ4w9rkflqwBK1svWLn1C9AzMvli1ndUBp1v8bsDpAdy0Y2yDV3X715st6qERpyMJHJ0YM0AvT2VLp7MDSrwfx0/s1600/2013-10-29+2013+October+29++Abbeville,+South+Carolina_Dean's++Morning+Mist+006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGqsWERWI_xNA9i8ikmUPQv2H4WkGwV_OTWUwfPb2a5MJF8Zt-0oAPmQ4w9rkflqwBK1svWLn1C9AzMvli1ndUBp1v8bsDpAdy0Y2yDV3X715st6qERpyMJHJ0YM0AvT2VLp7MDSrwfx0/s640/2013-10-29+2013+October+29++Abbeville,+South+Carolina_Dean's++Morning+Mist+006.JPG" width="426" /></a></div>
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The photos above and below show a few clips of the Dr.'s home.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGYLglwsUlZtedl3i-qMBZuLhkk97Wh8uyGT7VDn4mNoRW8W3fyIdL1UKj_GfxsbE_h7QrfVLXnygWxug7_dBcsVqXgVLk7iF9ziFmN5AVUPry7Sx9aRUpshqrmj50t5Rzj0eSda9-1As/s1600/2013-10-29+2013+October+29++Abbeville,+South+Carolina_Dean's++Morning+Mist+007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGYLglwsUlZtedl3i-qMBZuLhkk97Wh8uyGT7VDn4mNoRW8W3fyIdL1UKj_GfxsbE_h7QrfVLXnygWxug7_dBcsVqXgVLk7iF9ziFmN5AVUPry7Sx9aRUpshqrmj50t5Rzj0eSda9-1As/s640/2013-10-29+2013+October+29++Abbeville,+South+Carolina_Dean's++Morning+Mist+007.JPG" width="426" /></a></div>
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The rays of sun coming through the mist in the trees was so beautiful . . . . .</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQRKcwod3LeYxw1NJHKOoM3wv7Ou0wMnvGFfMpLd7UEiJqyLE7_pqT_vggcieNBszWusrw-KSaJ0Zt96K3d-qR0OuCPpjctPJ0vPAAVBZ2C5iGDRidQxPL6otGoB0Q_spEpiEgyA21KQY/s1600/2013-10-29+2013+October+29++Abbeville,+South+Carolina_Dean's++Morning+Mist+013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQRKcwod3LeYxw1NJHKOoM3wv7Ou0wMnvGFfMpLd7UEiJqyLE7_pqT_vggcieNBszWusrw-KSaJ0Zt96K3d-qR0OuCPpjctPJ0vPAAVBZ2C5iGDRidQxPL6otGoB0Q_spEpiEgyA21KQY/s640/2013-10-29+2013+October+29++Abbeville,+South+Carolina_Dean's++Morning+Mist+013.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Everywhere I turned there was another "beautiful shot . . . . ."</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKVR8LClkYPs0xycroaTlqQCgF067AAM11EeFQQuzyY6QafAAoZ9vB-cJdnUX8moQTfXbBmz0LT9Da6jMLFfpnbhDjIkHYIBAScXXs5KORQS7wAWmgzAD9UxcvzTCvZ7jdkhN8ShwKZEk/s1600/2013-10-29+2013+October+29++Abbeville,+South+Carolina_Dean's++Morning+Mist+016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKVR8LClkYPs0xycroaTlqQCgF067AAM11EeFQQuzyY6QafAAoZ9vB-cJdnUX8moQTfXbBmz0LT9Da6jMLFfpnbhDjIkHYIBAScXXs5KORQS7wAWmgzAD9UxcvzTCvZ7jdkhN8ShwKZEk/s640/2013-10-29+2013+October+29++Abbeville,+South+Carolina_Dean's++Morning+Mist+016.JPG" width="426" /></a></div>
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"Thus says God the Lord, he that created the heavens, and stretched them out, He that spread forth the earth, and that which comes out of it, he that gives breath to the people upon it, and spirit to them that walk therein." Isaiah 42:5</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz1DgwyHM2nlxbps7kkIF2Bd18Upw3JRmp-9EFMxolrgSKNXJcwdw-dLWRoW4dPwSt7eh1k-Soxz1L6-CaC-0SKlmXsn6g2f-IrqMuWLVwdW6blhyphenhyphenGh9uoaKKCBqLRDE9P-6Ck8LOYz4g/s1600/2013-10-29+2013+October+29++Abbeville,+South+Carolina_Dean's++Morning+Mist+017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz1DgwyHM2nlxbps7kkIF2Bd18Upw3JRmp-9EFMxolrgSKNXJcwdw-dLWRoW4dPwSt7eh1k-Soxz1L6-CaC-0SKlmXsn6g2f-IrqMuWLVwdW6blhyphenhyphenGh9uoaKKCBqLRDE9P-6Ck8LOYz4g/s640/2013-10-29+2013+October+29++Abbeville,+South+Carolina_Dean's++Morning+Mist+017.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Dean has LOTS of red cedar on his land.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYjbEpdho_8A8GPKhuD1PpU24QVIYgGV9cXyxuEiG8P8IgrHnpzIvNUlG6jQ7HwSgsXs2iXd3lSiveNHkHT_HtN9UWojBmLieUGXDwNUemwRSkhsFL2SUmDkSaXWy64n1RJFfJ9PEE-fI/s1600/2013-10-29+2013+October+29++Abbeville,+South+Carolina_Dean's++Morning+Mist+019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYjbEpdho_8A8GPKhuD1PpU24QVIYgGV9cXyxuEiG8P8IgrHnpzIvNUlG6jQ7HwSgsXs2iXd3lSiveNHkHT_HtN9UWojBmLieUGXDwNUemwRSkhsFL2SUmDkSaXWy64n1RJFfJ9PEE-fI/s640/2013-10-29+2013+October+29++Abbeville,+South+Carolina_Dean's++Morning+Mist+019.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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It was so quiet and peaceful, one could almost hear the footsteps of the angels . . . . and feel the smile of the Lord!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6deFPpfACNM4lZIENDR6C62Vhb5xnZzBjXNn8WI56lGEURlDjETRoxaoRDywA9XOdQ_N0KDIBW7xN-dOe3kDr48nMB8bGG4XW5jDSqvjClPG8TDE6wG0JiqCIEnR6F3dURU64wbn7hmc/s1600/2013-10-29+2013+October+29++Abbeville,+South+Carolina_Dean's++Morning+Mist+020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6deFPpfACNM4lZIENDR6C62Vhb5xnZzBjXNn8WI56lGEURlDjETRoxaoRDywA9XOdQ_N0KDIBW7xN-dOe3kDr48nMB8bGG4XW5jDSqvjClPG8TDE6wG0JiqCIEnR6F3dURU64wbn7hmc/s640/2013-10-29+2013+October+29++Abbeville,+South+Carolina_Dean's++Morning+Mist+020.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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So very grateful this morning for the beauty surrounding us . . . . . and for the love and companionship that we area blessed with through our family and dear friends!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2D3prEhy1TaTItEcvwb0YlSwhQ2jj8GxrfDUspDaSWcaf-aay0H9cyZXS6OLRZDx3eiieuPAzF0W5qSmlPsc0h17i9U_UOfISyfC9RxWtp-G9-xNHSJLjw743JXmL02S4owjn5mYXlK4/s1600/2013-10-29+2013+October+29++Abbeville,+South+Carolina_Dean's++Morning+Mist+021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2D3prEhy1TaTItEcvwb0YlSwhQ2jj8GxrfDUspDaSWcaf-aay0H9cyZXS6OLRZDx3eiieuPAzF0W5qSmlPsc0h17i9U_UOfISyfC9RxWtp-G9-xNHSJLjw743JXmL02S4owjn5mYXlK4/s640/2013-10-29+2013+October+29++Abbeville,+South+Carolina_Dean's++Morning+Mist+021.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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What is it about a bit of a mist . . . . . . it seems to add an element of the mysterious and emotional . . . . . it touches the soul it seems.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZshx0DP5LPNRc20T7JOdVQ7lJspK2Gd4LAaWfkurntT92p7cGBT5FV1fUhmQdvUozW5_3po6xn-m7kDtt4BgpIhgTuU9ghyphenhyphenQVi51WKicGDamZSfhitf4028agvSDXq_97bA7j9B2VWnc/s1600/2013-10-29+2013+October+29++Abbeville,+South+Carolina_Dean's++Morning+Mist+022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZshx0DP5LPNRc20T7JOdVQ7lJspK2Gd4LAaWfkurntT92p7cGBT5FV1fUhmQdvUozW5_3po6xn-m7kDtt4BgpIhgTuU9ghyphenhyphenQVi51WKicGDamZSfhitf4028agvSDXq_97bA7j9B2VWnc/s640/2013-10-29+2013+October+29++Abbeville,+South+Carolina_Dean's++Morning+Mist+022.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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These photos were all taken from the front "yard" area of Dean's land-----it is another adventure to walk down into the woods behind the house. There is a spring . . . . .and a pond . . . . </div>
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"The earth is the Lord's and all that is in it, the world, and those who live in it, . . . ."</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFg8YlOJnIPuJ7WgS4cwxi_2Ny2SJm-DWA0sPaAWszZ2HS97HrNzyoe8Obq43NKMd6EaELHcwc3uBrvnBs1inWqMSuZilINA2qwPL68CEQE_6UCYr3eDc3TcEbsmrOzvDCjdgnua_4PPY/s1600/2013-10-29+2013+October+29++Abbeville,+South+Carolina_Dean's++Morning+Mist+008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFg8YlOJnIPuJ7WgS4cwxi_2Ny2SJm-DWA0sPaAWszZ2HS97HrNzyoe8Obq43NKMd6EaELHcwc3uBrvnBs1inWqMSuZilINA2qwPL68CEQE_6UCYr3eDc3TcEbsmrOzvDCjdgnua_4PPY/s640/2013-10-29+2013+October+29++Abbeville,+South+Carolina_Dean's++Morning+Mist+008.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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And here is our trailer nestled behind this stand of red cedars. . . . .the wooden building is the well-house. Behind us, is Dean's house.</div>
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Blessings, hugs and love to each of you!</div>
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Till next time-------- Bob and Debbie</div>
Bob and Debbie Biggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12866490446167348655noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425191448749767759.post-25050653755737313702013-10-11T10:24:00.000-07:002013-10-11T10:24:33.472-07:00A Bit of Arkansas <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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After we left Indiana, we headed toward Arkansas. We drove on a bit of Arkansas Highway 7 . . . . . . Beautiful!!!!! One of our first "scenic stops" was overlooking the Buffalo River Valley. The view was amazing! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKexnX-_2FREl4BI8uFnzOeaub1R6BKsZmqAsS2FCG2H4hTIe1cfQ9Q6c9YuxOoXsXnBaoON4UxbqQ3WpjClHOm99lRLNaUzJWu3XDmo1AowTtvb72i671k-Pwn9C9J36QDGqq-nqXRWc/s1600/2013-08-18+August+2013+Trip+006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKexnX-_2FREl4BI8uFnzOeaub1R6BKsZmqAsS2FCG2H4hTIe1cfQ9Q6c9YuxOoXsXnBaoON4UxbqQ3WpjClHOm99lRLNaUzJWu3XDmo1AowTtvb72i671k-Pwn9C9J36QDGqq-nqXRWc/s640/2013-08-18+August+2013+Trip+006.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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More Buffalo River Valley . . . . . .</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE-rkP8rS5kPIP6TvnbG2cCYw1AyOJrdLvjyaY-q460sdSLg7BsFI9whaOB4xXhK1slBu8stx_okvsnZ5PC-c5EQFNXYGsWAiNX5RYvjwr8kkFYQ1yh5gYyx8w7TRzk03O6FFMuPglHkc/s1600/2013-08-18+August+2013+Trip+016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE-rkP8rS5kPIP6TvnbG2cCYw1AyOJrdLvjyaY-q460sdSLg7BsFI9whaOB4xXhK1slBu8stx_okvsnZ5PC-c5EQFNXYGsWAiNX5RYvjwr8kkFYQ1yh5gYyx8w7TRzk03O6FFMuPglHkc/s320/2013-08-18+August+2013+Trip+016.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mace on his way up the lookout tower stairway.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking out from the top of the tower.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY9FJavU2J5DiVi2GLPr9ivmP4xuLAo3mdmV-2RA6icVSQKL47Wln1a2ObBr0l87zLysMdsnGx9suI28urDo3PzSppuWWW3NMaOwvA5UR48-pIW11Hr8X8kzshr5cB2_TkN38jsJVaRCM/s1600/2013-08-18+August+2013+Trip+020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY9FJavU2J5DiVi2GLPr9ivmP4xuLAo3mdmV-2RA6icVSQKL47Wln1a2ObBr0l87zLysMdsnGx9suI28urDo3PzSppuWWW3NMaOwvA5UR48-pIW11Hr8X8kzshr5cB2_TkN38jsJVaRCM/s640/2013-08-18+August+2013+Trip+020.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Both photos above and below taken atop the lookout tower. The clouds and the sky were just beautiful for us!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdKblKZ6gY_9ZyPRS3XTCBFLxS42E2nNlFaPPtO2GpkpnmD6EjTGkruGQq_MbMmLXBKoffihpAIxurPXnuOOdST00fLodBbIGYI42XhuL_-hvRTiMqveAK2_4NpMYaP1dxLzFB8B578Mg/s1600/2013-08-18+August+2013+Trip+024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdKblKZ6gY_9ZyPRS3XTCBFLxS42E2nNlFaPPtO2GpkpnmD6EjTGkruGQq_MbMmLXBKoffihpAIxurPXnuOOdST00fLodBbIGYI42XhuL_-hvRTiMqveAK2_4NpMYaP1dxLzFB8B578Mg/s640/2013-08-18+August+2013+Trip+024.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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As we neared Petit Jean State Park, where our reservations were, we drove into Yell County . . . . . those True Grit aficionados out there will recognize that name. We drove a bit further, and we drove into Dardanelle! Mattie Ross (from the True Grit book and movie) proclaimed herself to be from Dardanelle, in Yell County Arkansas! </div>
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The day after settling into our camping spot at the State Park, we headed back toward Dardanelle, and up to Mount Nebo State Park. Mount Nebo rises 1350 ft. up above the Arkansas River Valley. The drive up the mountain did not allow vehicles over 24 ft to go up. The road was so fun! Major hairpin curves, narrow road, no side rails, and lots of 10 mph signs! More beauty everywhere we turned . . . . .</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk3I-N5BHzut52IWyruNdB2fq99AMsUdmglP2mXBPTM1OG6Zw_lvMHkMvxTpUyQXAg2ccuMUPyI9t_Sk0ZeYJ-9vxp56y_7nbaRV75zgbUtIBIg3bnVnHF5vR98L4oiMIhQi60PBjj0Hc/s1600/2013-08-19+August+2013+Trip+007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk3I-N5BHzut52IWyruNdB2fq99AMsUdmglP2mXBPTM1OG6Zw_lvMHkMvxTpUyQXAg2ccuMUPyI9t_Sk0ZeYJ-9vxp56y_7nbaRV75zgbUtIBIg3bnVnHF5vR98L4oiMIhQi60PBjj0Hc/s320/2013-08-19+August+2013+Trip+007.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvE01PyuOl-0_F8LTNrE2YDjE-M4ReLq543rINjLtMfgnzxBUUBjd1HmnlaBeabJl9OPqW8qjbbvBzpyxPIwbBxtz6YFPYGPGgR7PcxwisnkiZYyU6QBAxp9jU6iyQPHaa30XZlgcLjmA/s1600/2013-08-19+August+2013+Trip+015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvE01PyuOl-0_F8LTNrE2YDjE-M4ReLq543rINjLtMfgnzxBUUBjd1HmnlaBeabJl9OPqW8qjbbvBzpyxPIwbBxtz6YFPYGPGgR7PcxwisnkiZYyU6QBAxp9jU6iyQPHaa30XZlgcLjmA/s640/2013-08-19+August+2013+Trip+015.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Looking out over the Arkansas River Valley---this was taken outside the gift shop at the top of Mount Nebo.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrMPX8gSHn0TiEVKcgKLXC1cLvI4BiXZKfDp2_4HAwPQU9b91frSBhKj8E2jEwFJOcq4-rlyMcCohESP3ZuceiCbFUSzq9dPBH1A0OKhcXk7Lqmo5kdDe8-7wgsbBP9nuGgtS1aYpHbmA/s1600/2013-08-19+August+2013+Trip+027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrMPX8gSHn0TiEVKcgKLXC1cLvI4BiXZKfDp2_4HAwPQU9b91frSBhKj8E2jEwFJOcq4-rlyMcCohESP3ZuceiCbFUSzq9dPBH1A0OKhcXk7Lqmo5kdDe8-7wgsbBP9nuGgtS1aYpHbmA/s320/2013-08-19+August+2013+Trip+027.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
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Mace enjoyed all the high rock formations, and we got lots</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_lfOCtstV_o705st5e5Umxiv6V1RY4XL08DhwYheB-_91Vb63i7ypxAXnNGVXvJQXWXsppBc4d-O7XbRBFH8M23u9eMOQxaFADIMU46Ug1lHWoZv47fU0_O5k8bCxJR8rmliDL_Pavlg/s1600/2013-08-19+August+2013+Trip+018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_lfOCtstV_o705st5e5Umxiv6V1RY4XL08DhwYheB-_91Vb63i7ypxAXnNGVXvJQXWXsppBc4d-O7XbRBFH8M23u9eMOQxaFADIMU46Ug1lHWoZv47fU0_O5k8bCxJR8rmliDL_Pavlg/s320/2013-08-19+August+2013+Trip+018.JPG" width="213" /></a>of photos! Right along here is a trail entry to the Rim Trail, which has safety warnings at the beginning. We had the dogs with us, so did not take the trail.</div>
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Some of the flora and fauna, and bumblebees!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A beautiful stone garage or workshop atop<br />
Mt. Nebo</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEMp9XdnfIglF3HC6h1-heGWDDUF62Ioe5e4nI5fdaVSNn30Jxk_ynpoSKhCqJSM-iPnfEGmbrOxntE9YrCgFZ3hCX0wYLllkfGXiJuI5-ghe_fLNyB-wNiZ6FWImP87d2Ev37I8fMCRk/s1600/2013-08-19+August+2013+Trip+041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEMp9XdnfIglF3HC6h1-heGWDDUF62Ioe5e4nI5fdaVSNn30Jxk_ynpoSKhCqJSM-iPnfEGmbrOxntE9YrCgFZ3hCX0wYLllkfGXiJuI5-ghe_fLNyB-wNiZ6FWImP87d2Ev37I8fMCRk/s320/2013-08-19+August+2013+Trip+041.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Driving back down the Mountain . . . .</td></tr>
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We left Mount Nebo and headed to a spot that Bob and I and the kids and my brother Derek had camped at about 25 years ago . . . . . Mount Magazine and Cove Lake. Mace had heard our family stories of Mt. Magazine and was so excited to be able to finally see it. It is a lovely park. One of the places that we had taken a photo out on a ledge is now fenced off for safety, but it was beautiful nonetheless.</div>
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The above photo was taken from the truck, looking up the side of the mountain. You know that God had to have had so much fun during creation! </div>
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I love being surrounded by His creation, rather than seeing </div>
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concrete, asphalt, formed metal and the like . . . . . . </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On Mt. Magazine<br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVCULYLsMQPoEtfNQTM6t6d5muw1P-UhumASgMXWyom4ARNVwLEDVGf4AJSOiqCBMshAhaj8PDC0DNJ4ZtCorWY97YBdqD0E-Dt3dJIZeEqVMgphkZcWzYxmj_LsCxdga42is5mzeFhdE/s1600/2013-08-19+August+2013+Trip+064.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVCULYLsMQPoEtfNQTM6t6d5muw1P-UhumASgMXWyom4ARNVwLEDVGf4AJSOiqCBMshAhaj8PDC0DNJ4ZtCorWY97YBdqD0E-Dt3dJIZeEqVMgphkZcWzYxmj_LsCxdga42is5mzeFhdE/s640/2013-08-19+August+2013+Trip+064.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of our Happy Travelers!</td></tr>
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Petit Jean State Park was beautiful!!! It sets upon Petit Jean Mountain. It was named for the legend of a beautiful French girl who disguised herself as a young cabin boy and followed her beau across the ocean. Here is a link to the history of Petit Jean Mountain: <a href="http://www.petitjeanstatepark.com/history/history_of_petit_jean_mountain.aspx">http://www.petitjeanstatepark.com/history/history_of_petit_jean_mountain.aspx</a> </div>
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We took a couple of the trails there . . . . . .</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih1-9hmgnS4daAdK71d7TIwX4YgkW2Y-0tVxqiVVSf5GzhB8qEz4BUPZd1syxPVue3bnDphBSuDXq9U_9szPzfOuivzudXIfbVS5ty5qcngtExtN25CSW4Ci4KcZQiZTYqeVMQpKuP2o4/s1600/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih1-9hmgnS4daAdK71d7TIwX4YgkW2Y-0tVxqiVVSf5GzhB8qEz4BUPZd1syxPVue3bnDphBSuDXq9U_9szPzfOuivzudXIfbVS5ty5qcngtExtN25CSW4Ci4KcZQiZTYqeVMQpKuP2o4/s640/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+009.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The initial walkway was nicely done and so easy to navigate<br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQJK1cj8Rv_qHFlxqTkmP21BgeLt07dmVxI6bFtQD61XVdxn8y91tyVaLMR6ieVVbMwFINhyphenhyphen2b5Jj57sCzMsxUsQi7U3YvISCIVcYGHzLz24e21pdieIa9zqmZreRTldfImCnnZPCXLds/s1600/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQJK1cj8Rv_qHFlxqTkmP21BgeLt07dmVxI6bFtQD61XVdxn8y91tyVaLMR6ieVVbMwFINhyphenhyphen2b5Jj57sCzMsxUsQi7U3YvISCIVcYGHzLz24e21pdieIa9zqmZreRTldfImCnnZPCXLds/s640/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+015.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The drop was amazing . . . . . .<br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjliLkugIceHz9Pt1oqtWQZJ0EMUgsSxehqLokNrXosSY9QjxSuUP16p6IRkwuMnL2Avsxf4FhLcTUmvQyYTGo6BPa8Iqb90UiPVMoVrlooMuvpnNu0E7UhGj8qPn2yHMZW69YvtFS1xiU/s1600/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjliLkugIceHz9Pt1oqtWQZJ0EMUgsSxehqLokNrXosSY9QjxSuUP16p6IRkwuMnL2Avsxf4FhLcTUmvQyYTGo6BPa8Iqb90UiPVMoVrlooMuvpnNu0E7UhGj8qPn2yHMZW69YvtFS1xiU/s640/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+018.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ahhhhhhhhh, so peaceful here!<br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7IY2_xbqoJxWuscPZKDXrZ-tGgkA64LqaVqn7d4RGtJTdAGUAIz-4WWqDSQmCGH5_vX9HTM_s83EUOb8RxfiOZBViCq-8MkQCVdJxayt_6l2OLXqb8d6mVttUMtVvQWiQTn-XGoO56M4/s1600/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7IY2_xbqoJxWuscPZKDXrZ-tGgkA64LqaVqn7d4RGtJTdAGUAIz-4WWqDSQmCGH5_vX9HTM_s83EUOb8RxfiOZBViCq-8MkQCVdJxayt_6l2OLXqb8d6mVttUMtVvQWiQTn-XGoO56M4/s640/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+022.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A great spot to relax a bit!<br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_AQTCBT8Dp4c1P64jlIuV35wvGhqXGty2xF9rxDpXIT9Mp5rbA7SLXO_QFbcOnhrDGewYGQ-9KNfPo0KHwS9ts1s3q_Ifnc7JRzXGaU_7gM6vLJsx-ECttbu4FlMjnmscZKyIY2HQZsM/s1600/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_AQTCBT8Dp4c1P64jlIuV35wvGhqXGty2xF9rxDpXIT9Mp5rbA7SLXO_QFbcOnhrDGewYGQ-9KNfPo0KHwS9ts1s3q_Ifnc7JRzXGaU_7gM6vLJsx-ECttbu4FlMjnmscZKyIY2HQZsM/s640/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+027.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The trees were like spires, all trying to be the one to reach the furthest into the sky . . . . . .<br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTndAp1qS9lkWZigpkht6ZgucHWvWm5MDpxuwb6uWvxVSMxv1Xm9SjWTNibpOvMA3aAi9JCOR6lY4u6pM_zfVEcnYmAF1U8SNAynLy_sgwKd3arB6MJRcHSbpuwW7wFEibDTz1xMpKyxw/s1600/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTndAp1qS9lkWZigpkht6ZgucHWvWm5MDpxuwb6uWvxVSMxv1Xm9SjWTNibpOvMA3aAi9JCOR6lY4u6pM_zfVEcnYmAF1U8SNAynLy_sgwKd3arB6MJRcHSbpuwW7wFEibDTz1xMpKyxw/s640/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+035.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of the signage along the trail . . . . . . .<br /><br /><br /></td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Bear Cave Trail was so much fun for us all! We were up and down rocks and boulders, on trails, in caves and through a formation called "Eye of the Needle."</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge7RuRDq5VHj0629QMOXxAAwyK9fO3tHMhZdYpKc1NrPvT4ndw5uv40_xVEjb1JDqkv7ZuhcH67dRizlD83mxBGoHs5_v-rXV7R3b2_MbJODkeGb9iCGrHfZG_m3Qy94rVh81YlkYH6pE/s1600/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+058.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge7RuRDq5VHj0629QMOXxAAwyK9fO3tHMhZdYpKc1NrPvT4ndw5uv40_xVEjb1JDqkv7ZuhcH67dRizlD83mxBGoHs5_v-rXV7R3b2_MbJODkeGb9iCGrHfZG_m3Qy94rVh81YlkYH6pE/s640/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+058.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mace giving us an idea of a "Bear Cave" :-)<br /></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhASWHeGZLUuUofB02Q1kOuqssj3vhk0pq3_Uleng45hbcMBEvILukOV9O8BZUdMWVQObRo4hk5EpJc1d0TVxRjjTWu_o00a8xVmcuYQR42uQCyfk1tKsxtqrJurnHa4TKhIH0TYbQPfs/s1600/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+069.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhASWHeGZLUuUofB02Q1kOuqssj3vhk0pq3_Uleng45hbcMBEvILukOV9O8BZUdMWVQObRo4hk5EpJc1d0TVxRjjTWu_o00a8xVmcuYQR42uQCyfk1tKsxtqrJurnHa4TKhIH0TYbQPfs/s400/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+069.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiqaYi68vAgXwS-6anH1-0p080x2nA8mhZ3N0IWE0jBdlEeAXDLmK3gvU_gUUKbgJUI3CuodryvAyi-WBy1P2bc_eFRlCGOlFypFsmzFeYYHfRrOGuOzvtD6OxJ0awGER1jQaeeYAUpws/s1600/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+062.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiqaYi68vAgXwS-6anH1-0p080x2nA8mhZ3N0IWE0jBdlEeAXDLmK3gvU_gUUKbgJUI3CuodryvAyi-WBy1P2bc_eFRlCGOlFypFsmzFeYYHfRrOGuOzvtD6OxJ0awGER1jQaeeYAUpws/s400/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+062.JPG" width="266" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbVmnSg-VaNF6EoZGRp60N-U1Mbdxd-9lMFxGM5QEdVxXWAFixBvkanGSNAEo4WsKIhmZWDcIDZcMcnekq1IdpXzNZ7pgzGGTa5rQxy9TNmcP8eCqdnLX5y3Ji4K5aJecR8-e1fMn8WmE/s1600/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+073.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbVmnSg-VaNF6EoZGRp60N-U1Mbdxd-9lMFxGM5QEdVxXWAFixBvkanGSNAEo4WsKIhmZWDcIDZcMcnekq1IdpXzNZ7pgzGGTa5rQxy9TNmcP8eCqdnLX5y3Ji4K5aJecR8-e1fMn8WmE/s400/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+073.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbgRyUhO8-5cPlAxENMtbSg8HuVnw8vDA9ILUy-tco7IlolnRghE4b6CiNluKoKGvX4JaK2NaGJPaqcByDDK6b_tPpiKX5yHUGn5GB_j8Z5R7Z9P-_ov_tiD88sTPDqQZ-v8tVA_fdBE4/s1600/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+080.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbgRyUhO8-5cPlAxENMtbSg8HuVnw8vDA9ILUy-tco7IlolnRghE4b6CiNluKoKGvX4JaK2NaGJPaqcByDDK6b_tPpiKX5yHUGn5GB_j8Z5R7Z9P-_ov_tiD88sTPDqQZ-v8tVA_fdBE4/s640/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+080.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Bob and Grizz and Bailey were in the lead on the trail. They came upon this cave, got up into it and waited . . . . . quietly, of course . . . . .</div>
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As Mace came by, Bob let out a good "Bear Growl" ------ Mace jumped good I hear, and then when I, pulling up the rear, came by, they growled for me too! What fun! </div>
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We all got up into the cave, it was bigger than it looks here.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigJNUL-9a4b-T_egBMP8v2YE-D3SHSqEp_KA935kCnrDkIXsgHzVoTg2wpNyKndG3uM2JqR8fy3bJLioSXSfsHlmCu7ZAUZAyxBmnviRVD0snz90LlR-S2MH9yn_9waja-57AOW6Yupyc/s1600/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+093.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigJNUL-9a4b-T_egBMP8v2YE-D3SHSqEp_KA935kCnrDkIXsgHzVoTg2wpNyKndG3uM2JqR8fy3bJLioSXSfsHlmCu7ZAUZAyxBmnviRVD0snz90LlR-S2MH9yn_9waja-57AOW6Yupyc/s640/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+093.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This reminded me of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade . . . . .</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1vewmffEFCG7tyCrWiqFnAl40O2hHQsqetXVMnTO8E2SJvDRUHE0d9rr3wvnNTouRAQS-BzgPdO5OaMzbj9L9Vf1R7sqvPv_iiCsacEuVnSnQ8phcfOqxTd2jTWsxY-4q17IKJ19dMpk/s1600/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+094.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1vewmffEFCG7tyCrWiqFnAl40O2hHQsqetXVMnTO8E2SJvDRUHE0d9rr3wvnNTouRAQS-BzgPdO5OaMzbj9L9Vf1R7sqvPv_iiCsacEuVnSnQ8phcfOqxTd2jTWsxY-4q17IKJ19dMpk/s640/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+094.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpjP6VL4xMvwGwM1KlvRxEcZd09mMeMVDwy55LLllCbp_201r_xBz6rjTDe8UdCRhkr7It8d-2M8_TRh6jm70n26eMkvqHRKHvS9TFrJwq65EAIDLC6jm_EXaAMeWBHoEvdE5b0gq3mAw/s1600/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+097.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpjP6VL4xMvwGwM1KlvRxEcZd09mMeMVDwy55LLllCbp_201r_xBz6rjTDe8UdCRhkr7It8d-2M8_TRh6jm70n26eMkvqHRKHvS9TFrJwq65EAIDLC6jm_EXaAMeWBHoEvdE5b0gq3mAw/s640/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+097.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What fun we had!!!!! Look at this great team!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRHjlEMXrhinIQOg0l2VlcegXys82auIduNltTc7gGKN0cTtzeYe3ul-0uIhNoR3luYFfDe9hI7xj5XW9lboieeu0AsOHuyhyOd9IYrkOrzfekQ9HnlhArp6ZemZGJ89Lv65ODbJvkE5s/s1600/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+099.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRHjlEMXrhinIQOg0l2VlcegXys82auIduNltTc7gGKN0cTtzeYe3ul-0uIhNoR3luYFfDe9hI7xj5XW9lboieeu0AsOHuyhyOd9IYrkOrzfekQ9HnlhArp6ZemZGJ89Lv65ODbJvkE5s/s640/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+099.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mace in what we figured must be the "Eye of the Needle"</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFoL_souv-iTNAHLfzr_GqZBctT4VrcfLlbK_9v6AmiS2lL88bXiztOAGd1_z96Zo90maNps1Wr4GaRya5-yZl4YUaMbLI9IsINMECKNPraRBJyNvhtVWocKtnqnC007Anq2cZWKVS1lU/s1600/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+105.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFoL_souv-iTNAHLfzr_GqZBctT4VrcfLlbK_9v6AmiS2lL88bXiztOAGd1_z96Zo90maNps1Wr4GaRya5-yZl4YUaMbLI9IsINMECKNPraRBJyNvhtVWocKtnqnC007Anq2cZWKVS1lU/s640/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+105.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walking about in the rock formations<br /></td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
This was taken the morning we got back on the road. This was a scenic pullout on Petit Jean Mountain.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAAW4-j2PRLRtqUJBX3Ay0HyGxyCGQ1GlmCvUGXFn3m6GoizFIGgs2ARBPgD4pnFDp8ka-dEaCZONioP6sBOK5e8nH0WRXGnCl-8-JAqXcij5PxAiQJ4Ur1dMcWhpqIpPrPxEJpytOsIs/s1600/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+123.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAAW4-j2PRLRtqUJBX3Ay0HyGxyCGQ1GlmCvUGXFn3m6GoizFIGgs2ARBPgD4pnFDp8ka-dEaCZONioP6sBOK5e8nH0WRXGnCl-8-JAqXcij5PxAiQJ4Ur1dMcWhpqIpPrPxEJpytOsIs/s640/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+123.JPG" width="426" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNxW1Xcfk1YmdcbIhw2fZS_A3MkJsgN1-bJe-RZukAA1NzmHEaOumQRPetbNWkebUcsoPlP_SOeaTInZHyC7IvxfPzKVExAw9Xrs4pNSGoOgiB-h4UhK3UBalY-Ai-yVZFF8dFTbnhGCE/s1600/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+126.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNxW1Xcfk1YmdcbIhw2fZS_A3MkJsgN1-bJe-RZukAA1NzmHEaOumQRPetbNWkebUcsoPlP_SOeaTInZHyC7IvxfPzKVExAw9Xrs4pNSGoOgiB-h4UhK3UBalY-Ai-yVZFF8dFTbnhGCE/s640/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+126.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What splendor!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">About to hook up and pull out. This was out campsite. It was extremely generous in size, and the view was lovely!<br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from our campsite</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7rnsb0IOIwALN9mOEcS0B-0Jx-BvIRe5nCtXHlrnFaA96NxDkAF4McsFP1WOcCpyg91-7HUIGLCXIuMKtkeyKWO6GC7_b4Vw2sjsKEtEP4NxQCP99jIrUPvJzKCT5nQbRqurRgbAUL2k/s1600/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+047.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7rnsb0IOIwALN9mOEcS0B-0Jx-BvIRe5nCtXHlrnFaA96NxDkAF4McsFP1WOcCpyg91-7HUIGLCXIuMKtkeyKWO6GC7_b4Vw2sjsKEtEP4NxQCP99jIrUPvJzKCT5nQbRqurRgbAUL2k/s640/2013-08-20+August+2013+Trip+047.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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And so we say farewell to an amazingly beautiful spot and state . . . . . full of gratitude for God's blessing!</div>
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Wish you all could have been here with us!</div>
Bob and Debbie Biggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12866490446167348655noreply@blogger.com0