The way we were. . .

Ok, not really the way we were or the way I was. I chose that title because of the part that precede it, “Memories, like the corner of my mind.” My

I mentioned in my first blog entry (long ago, back before the long lapses in time, before my new resolve to keep this going) that I only remembered snippets of family history. My Uncle Jack and I were talking about that on the 4th of July. He’s our family historian, working on our family tree, visiting old cemeteries, poring over census records. Of course, that’s only for one branch of the family, the Young-Shriner branch, my mom’s side of the family. But I’ve used his template to start a record of my dad’s family, of all of those Hartmans, Swartzes, and Starks. Truthfully, I haven’t made much progress on this, but it’s a start.

Back to the snippets of memory. Jack and I agreed that we remember little, though we were probably told much.

Consider the stories that we were told. One of my relatives, referred to as “Uncle Joe” or “Uncle Jim” or some other name, was a blind musician. He traveled by train, riding the rails, playing his harmonica for coins. He died when he slipped while stepping from one car to another. So who told me that story? Granny? Mom-Mom? I can’t remember which family this person was part of, let alone his name and the particulars of his story.

The stories were usually told while paging through photo albums. The problem is, I can’t even identify persons in those photos. My mother has one of those albums, formerly her mother’s, and let me take it for a while to scan and save the pictures. I have some of them identified, thanks to a list I made July 4, 2011, when my mom and her sisters studied them and told us the names of some of those depicted. Unfortunately, most of them remain unknown. For example, who was this paragon of virtue:

 Add to the unidentified relatives that we were sometimes given misinformation. Example: Uncle Harry. My grandfathers on both sides of my family were named Harry. My dad’s name is Harry. But my mother also had a brother named Harry. Actually, I think that he was a half-brother — either that or my grandmother gave birth to him when she was 11 years old. Yes, women wed early in those days, but not that early. And Harry Jr. was born 12 years before my grandparents were married. The next sibling was born 4 months after that wedding. Usually there weren’t that many years between babies. Anyhow, on to Harry Jr. Most of the photos of him show him in uniform, as a member of the Air Corps. I grew up hearing the story of Harry the 3rd, who lived only 4 days. I also knew that Harry Jr. died when I was young, too young to remember him. I thought he died in Korea and thought it was in the line of duty. Jack thought he died in France — also in the line of duty. Actually? Suicide, Manheim, PA. And to add to the murk surrounding him, a few weeks ago my Aunt Kaye made the remark that Harry Jr. may have been married to Goldie Mae Gallagher. May have been? Do I sense an interesting story here? 

 And the saddest part of the story? After Harry the 3rd, there were two more children, Linda and Terri. I think that they remained on the periphery for a while, until my grandfather died. But since then? I guess they are just a couple lost members of our family.