Using tax records can be helpful. Some things you can learn by studying tax records is who lived in a certain place, who paid taxes, who moved, who possibly died, and which sons became of age. This can be helpful when trying to place ancestors in certain time and place.
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I could only find one maiden aunt in my family files. This was my great Aunt Ruth. Although I met her a few times when I was younger, I did not know her well and barely remember her. Ruth was my mom’s aunt. She was epileptic and never married. When she was young, she had a seizure when ironing and fell against the iron, which scarred her face. She lived with her mother until Grandma Copus died. Then she lived with her sister, Evelyn and later moved into the nursing home.
This is the house my mom grew up in. I don’t remember ever being in it, however I was. I don’t remember it because I was only 11 months old when my grandma passed away and the house was sold. Whenever we drove by it, my mom would point out that the house in the middle of the block on Delphos Avenue was the house she grew up in.
Although the house hasn’t been there for more than thirty years, I think of it and see it in my mind whenever I go past where it had once been. I don’t remember the pristine white exterior. Someone who later owned it painted or sided it in dark brown and that is the way I remember it. My mom and her siblings, of course, had a lot of memories, not just of growing up in that house but they were born in it. My mom’s oldest sister, Doris once told me, “I went to school one day and when I came home, there was Jean,” meaning that my mom had been born one September day when her siblings were at school. That’s just the way things were back then. More babies were born at home than in hospitals. The Cheney home was located across the street from the railroad tracks. Many of my mom’s relatives worked for the railroad, including her dad. One of her great uncles was an engineer. When Mom was a little girl, she would try to see who the engineer was when a train would go by. If it was Uncle Rufus, he would always wave at her. Being near the tracks also brought hobos to the neighborhood back during the Great Depression in the 1930s. The hobos weren’t bums. They were mostly men out of work because of the Depression who rode the rails seeking a little work somewhere. They would go to houses near the tracks and offer to work in exchange for a meal. Grandma Cheney frequently shared her home-cooking for some yard work or minor repairs. Before hopping the train out of Lima, the grateful hobo would make a large, chalked “X” on the sidewalk in front of the Cheney home. This was a signal to other hobos that this was a house where they could get a meal. The Cheney home had no refrigerator for many years. There was an icebox in the kitchen and the iceman would deliver large blocks of ice to keep it cold. When Aunt Doris went to work as a switchboard operator at the telephone company after graduating from high school, she saved her money and bought her mom a refrigerator. The house also had no indoor plumbing until a few years before Grandma died and the house was sold. Once or twice a week, a metal tub that was stored just inside the back door would be brought into the kitchen and water would be heated on the stove to fill it. No indoor plumbing also meant a trip to the little outhouse in the back yard to take care of business. Grandma Cheney’s grandpa, James H. Neely, built the house. I don’t know if he built it for them or gave it to them a wedding present or how my grandparents came to own the house or whether they ever lived anywhere else during their marriage. Grandpa Neely owned the whole block and built all of the houses on the block. My grandparents raised 5 children in this house. One grandchild lived there, along with his mother, my mom’s middle sister, for a few years when his dad was overseas during World War II. My parents lived there for about 6 months when they first married. My dad loved it because Grandma Cheney was such a wonderful cook and neither his mother or step-mother could cook worth a darn. I don’t remember who lived in all of the houses in the block, but the Dawson family lived in one of them. You could say that my aunt, next to the youngest Cheney daughter married the boy next door when she married the Dawson’s son, Darryl. My great, great grandma, Sarah Helen (Mason) Neely, whose husband had built the houses, at some time after his death, sold the farm and moved into one of the Delphos Avenue houses to be closer to town and family in her later years. Grandma and Grandpa Cheney didn’t like Grandma Neely being alone all night so they would send one of their two oldest children, Frank or Doris to stay at night with Grandma Neely. People didn’t have TV for their evening entertainment back then so Grandma Neely would entertain her great grandchild by telling family stories, that is, teaching the family history. My aunt Doris was in her eighties when I became interested in learning more and preserving our family history. Because of her good memory and many nights sitting at Grandma Neely’s knee, my aunt was able to tell me everyone in our family for 5 generations, including the female surnames and she showed me where they had lived and where they were buried. Not everyone is as fortunate to have someone who could pass on that much family history. I will be forever grateful. And so much of it started in this old homestead. If Misfortune followed someone, Albert Franklin Firestine was certainly who it followed. Albert’s troubles seemed to have started when he was a young man, some of it, possibly brought on himself. Apparently, he was not earning enough with his poultry farm so he became a mail order salesman for some additional income. The problem was, the goods his customers received were not the goods he promised. They paid top dollar for high quality merchandise and received junk. In 1901, Albert served some jail time for swindling people. When he got out, he tried to make an honest living to support his wife, Mary and his four children. He was hired at a factory in Sidney, Ohio that made butter churns. Life was finally going well or so it seemed. In May, 1902, Albert and Mary had a new son, who they named Floyd. Little Floyd only lived five months and died from pneumonia on October 17, 1902. By 1903, he and his family had moved to Bellefontaine where he took a job as a machinist at the A. J. Miller Carriage Factory. Misfortune struck again and Albert’s life took a turn for the worse. His wife, Mary passed away on October 3, 1903. Sixteen year old daughter, Mattie was devastated by her mother’s death. Albert said that Mattie “lost her mind” over it. Still trying to cope with the loss of his son and now having to deal with the loss of his wife and concern for his four living children, especially Mattie, Albert was distracted at work. Four days, after Mary’s death, he lost two fingers in an accident at the factory. He could no longer work as a machinist and had to find a way to provide for his children so turned again to something he knew could earn income immediately. He resumed his former position as a mail order peddler investing what little savings he had to purchase “notions”. He was doing it honestly this time, or so he believed. This went well for a few years. Having an income did not solve everything, though so he quickly remarried four months after Mary’s death. He jumped into this marriage too soon. His new wife, Minnie was not the person she had seemed to be. Albert had remarried to provide a home with two parental figures for his children. Minnie apparently had other ideas. She broke up their home, took his possessions, and when he was arrested for running a mail order scam and defrauding people, she kicked his children out to the street without food or shelter. Albert was helpless. He was in jail awaiting trial and could do nothing. Relatives must have taken in the children, because they all grew to adulthood and led good lives, including Mattie who was so distraught by her mother’s death. Albert seemed to genuinely believe that he was legitimately selling his notions, however, in 1905, he was again arrested as a con artist. He requested his colleagues from the wholesale houses who supplied him to be witnesses for him at his trial to prove his innocence. He claimed in an interview with a reporter from the Athens Messenger that he had a struggle with poverty and that, while he was not whining, his life had been one of thorns, not roses and that he was a man who used neither liquor or tobacco. He asked that his story be published as a rebuttal to what other newspapers may say about him and that his indebtedness to others only mounted to $36.94. Albert and another man were indicted and he spent a short time in the penitentiary. When he got out, he went through three more marriages and divorces before he eventually found the right woman. In 1918, he married the wife with whom he remained for the rest of his life. Misfortune seemed to have left him. He and Lola, his last wife, moved to Florida where he started another poultry farm. He raised “fancy” chickens and sold them and their eggs. Albert was a very intelligent man. He finally was able to use that intelligence and operated a successful poultry business. He also wrote numerous articles for several farm journals and magazines. Life finally come together for Albert. On September 15, 1812, the home of my 4th great grandparents and their children was attacked by Indians in the wilderness of what is now Ashland County, Ohio. A remnant band of Indians had hidden when the other Indians of the area, known as the Greentown Indians had been sent to a reservation. These renegades were angry and wanted revenge for their people who had been taken away and they were attacking settlers. A few days before my ancestors’ home was attacked, another family had been killed. My 4th great grandfather, Reverand James Copus opened his door and was providing cover for three soldiers as they ran to get in the Copus cabin. As he exchanged fire with the Indians, he was shot by one of them and died about an hour later. When he fell, his fifteen year old daughter, Nancy shut the door but before she got it closed, a ball caught her in the knee, which caused her to have a slight limp for the rest of her life. Two of the soldiers tore out some of the floorboards and barricaded the door with them. Nancy was lucky. Although the shot in her knee did not kill her, it could have. It was not a vital organ but it was quite common in those days to get infection or gangrene and die or have to have the injured limb amputated. Amputations were often unsuccessful back then and the patient died as a result of the amputation. Nancy was lucky. Her mother, Amy Church Copus must have been skilled or at least, very vigilant at keeping her daughter’s wound clean and dressed to prevent infection. Nancy healed with no more than a slight limp. She grew to womanhood, married, and had a family and a normal life. And a heck of a good story to pass down to her children and grandchildren. My 3rd great, great aunt, Nancy Copus was born on November 2, 1797 in Greene County, Pennsylvania. She and her husband, James Archer, Jr. raised a family of eleven children. Nancy died on August 22, 1875 and is buried in the Bethel Cemetery/Ten Mile Cemetery outside of North Baltimore, Wood County, Ohio. Old Tennent Church, originally built in 1632 and known as Freehold Church, Tennent, Monmouth County, New Jersey I recently learned about a 7th great grandmother who was definitely a strong woman. Janet Hampton was born in 1668 in Elphinstone, East Lothian, Scotland. She had to become a strong person at a very young age. Her mother, who is believed to have been Margaret Wade, died when Janet was a child.
Janet’s family were Quakers who came to the American Colonies to escape persecution from the Church of England. In 1683, she immigrated with her father, John Hampton, his wife, her step-siblings, and her uncle, Andrew Hampton on the ship, the Exchange from Leith, Scotland to Staten Island, New York. They settled in Freehold, Monmouth County, New Jersey. Janet’s first four years in America were spent as an indentured servant in order to pay for her passage to America. On January 9, 1690, she married another Scottish immigrant, Robert Rhea at her father’s home in Shrewsbury, Monmouth County. Robert was a carpenter by trade so an integral member of the growing community. Six children were born to Janet and Robert. After Robert’s death in 1720, Janet joined the Presbyterian Church where she became a leading member of the church for the remaining 30 years of her life. She was said to be a woman of strong mind and spiritual application, and a communion member of the Old Tennent Church. By 1731, the Scottish Covenanters in Monmouth County had outgrown the little log church on Free Hill. Land was purchased to build a new church at the bottom of the hill. Janet Rhea “seized the small cornerstone in her apron and, toiling to the top of the hill, set it down there, saying to the astonished onlookers: "Wha ever heard o' ganging doon to the Hoose o' the Lord, an no o' ganging oop to the Hoose o' the Lord?". Her point was taken and the church was built on top of the hill where the building replacing the original still stands today. Janet continued to be a devout worker in the Presbyterian community that built the Old Tennent Church, the first Presbyterian Church in New Jersey. She provided for the church and support of the pastor in her will. The farm that her husband, Robert had purchased, is now the site of the Visitors Center at Monmouth Battleground State Park. A road named Janet Rhea Road in her honor is nearby just west of the intersection of Routes 9 and 33. The loss of her mother at a young age, persecution by the Church of England in her homeland, and becoming an indentured servant at the age of 15 for 4 years in a strange land, losing her husband at the age of 31 with six children to raise, and her unshakable faith helped her endure these hardships making her an extraordinarily strong woman. Sources: www.oldtennentchurch.org William S. Hornor, This Old Monmouth of Ours (Cottonport: Polyanthos, reprint 1974) My great, great grandmother, Rebecca Love Cheney passed away on January 22, 1901 at her daughter, Julia’s home in Lima, Allen County, Ohio. She had written her will October 13, 1891. When she wrote her will, her husband, my great, great grandfather, William Cheney was living and he was the first heir named in the will.
William died on March 31, 1895. Rebecca did not revise her will so when she died in 1901, the will was annexed into her estate and distributed among her children, who were her other heirs. The facts that William died first, Rebecca did not revise her will, or that it was annexed into her estate are not what makes Rebecca’s will interesting, though. Apparently, Rebecca was a liberated woman before her time. In an era when women had few rights and little say, Rebecca produced a will boldly stating that her husband, William be given the right to use her real estate and personal property unless he remarried. Had William outlived her and remarried, he would have lost the rights to live in the family home or the entitlement to any of his deceased wife’s personal possessions. I found no deeds or proof that Rebecca ever owned any real estate but the reality is that Rebecca was not willing to let her home or her personal items go to a woman even beyond the grave. I admire her for being a woman who was not afraid to assert her wishes in a time when many would not have done so. My grandpa, Wilbur Silas Carder was a semi-truck driver back in the days when trucking was a young industry. Roads were not build or maintained with the safety standards set today and the trucks were not the sophisticated vehicles we see on the roads today.
Grandpa was awarded "Safe Driver of the Year" twice by the National Transit Company. His awards were Zippo lighters with "Safe Driver of the Year", his name and the company name. The lighters were inherited by his sons, Charles, my dad, now in my possession, and by my uncle Nick. Such a little thing, a Zippo lighter, but what a big thing it represents. A company who promoted safety and rewarded their employees back in a time when that was relatively unheard of and a man who took safety seriously enough to win that award two years in a row. I am proud of the small role my grandpa played in making the transportation industry safer. Wilbur Silas Carder was born February 20, 1909 in Painesville, Lake County, Ohio. He was the son of Nathan Isaac and Mary Alice (Alford) Carder. He died July 16, 1957 in Lima, Allen County, Ohio. My Valentine story isn’t a romantic one but one of tragedy. My grandpa’s first cousin, Gladys Carder married a man named Burke Valentine. Their marriage ended in divorce, leaving Gladys with two small boys to raise. Gladys remarried in 1933 to Elziel Risner. Alas, a lasting marriage was not meant to be for Gladys. In the ninth year of their marriage, Red, as he was known, had a cerebral hemorrhage and died three days later. Gladys was once again on her own to support her sons. In 1944, Gladys was the victim of a heinous crime. The rumor that went around and the way it was passed down to me was that Gladys was cheating on Red, which she clearly wasn’t, since he had passed away two years earlier. Supposedly, she was cheating on Red with a guy who worked at a dry cleaners in Bellefontaine, Ohio. Red caught them and one of them shot and killed Gladys. Not even remotely close to the real story. Research in local newspapers turned up greatly detailed accounts revealing the truth. Widowed Gladys took in boarders in her home to supplement her income. One of the boarders lost his job at the tank depot in Lima, Ohio. He returned to the Valentine home brandishing a 12 gauge shotgun, and threatened to kill Gladys. Her son, Arthur E. Valentine was in the Army stationed in England at the time but Billy (William J.) was at home with his mother when the boarder got violent. The newspaper accounts gave his age as eleven years old at the time, but the records found show his age would have been fifteen. He may have killed her son also, but Gladys yelled at Billy and told him to get out of the house and call the police. As Billy left the house, he heard a gunshot. Panic-stricken, he ran to Keck’s Restaurant, the only place with a telephone near their home. When the police arrived, they found Gladys’ still body draped across her bed and the boarder dead next to her. The official cause of death on her death certificate states "Shot thru chest at close range with shotgun." Perhaps, not as romantic as Romeo and Juliet but it is the real, true tragedy of the Valentines. I don’t really have a favorite name, but one of the names of my ancestors that I rather like is Keturah.
According to numerous internet sources, the name Keturah is a Hebrew name meaning fragrance or incense. Keturah was the name of Abraham's second wife in the Old Testament. Through their sons, Abraham became the "father of many nations." The Puritans popularized the name after the Reformation and it was revived as a popular name for girls for awhile during the 1990s. My fourth great grandmother was Keturah Owen. She was the daughter of Ebenezer Owen and Temperance Helme. She was the sixth of their nine children, born in 1748 in Orange County, New York. Keturah married Thomas Cheney who served in the American Revolution. After the war, they migrated to Harrison County, Virginia. Imagine what life must have been for a young woman from a civilized Eastern state living in a fort on the frontier! She and Thomas had nine children. Shortly after Ohio became a state, Keturah and Thomas moved to Champaign County along with some of their adult children. Keturah died in 1828 in Champaign County. Keturah must have been a favorite name of her children or they wanted to honor their mother. She had four granddaughters named after her. So, Keturah was a favorite name with my Cheney ancestors! |
Rambling Along the Ancestral Trail
******************** AuthorDeborah A. Carder Mayes is a genealogist, speaker, and writer in Ohio and Eastern Indiana. She has been researching her family history and actively involved in the genealogy community since 1998. SUBCRIBE
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Rambling Along the Ancestral Trail
Ramblings about my family history and tidbits about genealogy