Bazinga!

I was watching Big Bang Theory recently as Sheldon and Amy Farrah Fowler were recording his new Fun with Flags video series.  Yes, that speaks to the exciting life we have here now that Ryan's gone back to school.  Anyhow, a note on the chart behind his head said "Featuring your Father's Grandfathers' Flags".  What a great blog topic!  Don't click out of here just yet.

Dad's grandfathers were William H. Ryan and William Edward Pierce and somehow I never noticed they were both named William until this blog research.  William Ryan was born in 1862 in Gloucester.  At that time, the United States flag had 34 stars.  This flag only lasted a couple of years before new stars were added and therefore the only President to serve under this flag was Abraham Lincoln.

By the time he died in 1934, the flag had 48 stars.  That flag lasted 47 years until Alaska joined the Union followed a few months later by Hawaii.

William Edward Pierce was born in 1864 in Argyle Nova Scotia Canada.  Nova Scotia had not yet joined the Confederation of Canada, but did so only 3 years later along with the rest of the provinces. This flag was only 6 years old at the time William was born. 

William Pierce died in 1942 in Gloucester under a US flag of 48 stars.

Our ancestors lived through very interesting times and the flags of their time on this planet tell this story.  Both Williams were born into political turmoil as their homeland struggled to unify and to create the great democracies now in place.

BAZINGA--got you didn't I?  It's interesting, isn't it? - to think about the history they saw probably without even realizing the impact.

Welcome to the world Tylee!  Who knows what history you will witness?

RIP Dad

Things that I do that remind me of Dad:  re-arrange the dishes in the dishwasher.  This used to make me nuts when I saw Dad endlessly rearranging and now I find myself doing the same with probably nearly the same level of irritation.

Get upset when I can't find the screwdriver.  I made my own set of tools and placed them near where I would be able to get to them when I needed them.  It was so convenient that now this set has been taken over and the screwdriver occasionally goes missing. 

Misspelled signs.  Don't need to say more there.

What about you? 

2945 Estero Blvd

It's been so darn cold these last few days, it's hard for my thoughts to stay here in New York.  They've been wandering back several years to Fort Myers Beach.  Visiting Nanny and Weenie was always a big deal for me--a real treat.  Weenie always seemed so touched that I would save money to fly to them for vacation but it was "win-win" for me.  Warm weather and spoiling?  Who could say NO to that?  I went to Florida instead of the senior trip and never regretted it.  I will admit the story might be different if we still lived in Silver Creek when senior trip time came along but that wasn't the case so off to Florida I went.

 This is 1973--back in the day when you would dress up to get on the airplane.  And you could debark and have your picture taken entering the terminal.  I think we look pretty good here!  There was nothing like stepping outside the terminal to breath the air.  Immediately you knew you weren't in Kansas anymore!  The tropical air has always had an immediate healing affect on me.  It's similar to filling my lungs with Gloucester sea air--it acts to heal and ease stress. 

We'd drive over the big bridge and enter the park driving very slowly as per the resident rules and general common sense.  There was a store right there on the street as you turned into the park.  I liked shopping in that place--there was a little bit of everything there at all price ranges it seemed to me. 

Nanny and Weenie's spot was a double wide so there was plenty of room comparatively speaking.  The car would go under the carport, you'd enter the Florida room (aptly named) where Nanny's typewriter often resided.  There were steps up into the trailer and you'd immediately be greeted by the cozy atmosphere tinged with the distinct cigarette odor.  Nanny and Weenie each had their own chairs distinguished by their accessories--for Nanny, a knitting basket; for Weenie, a newspaper. 

There were rules to follow that Nanny laid down in a way that you knew she meant business.  One I remember especially was clearing up as much leftover water as you could in the bathroom after a shower so as to avoid mildew and such.  Another was respecting the pool hours for guests.  She would make us turn over our plane tickets for safekeeping.  It was from her that I learned to always take a change of clothing in my carry on in case my suitcase went astray.  This practice has come in use many times over the years!

She strictly watched over our sunbathing habits but sometimes a sunburn would still occur.  We reached the beach by walking across the street (a busy street) and down the walk way reserved for the park residents.  I especially loved walking along the beach with Weenie up to the pier and back.  The walks were part of his heart regimen I believe.  Hard to imagine he needed to walk for his heart since he worked so hard under Nanny's thumb on his "yard work".  I think his yard work covered the same square yardage as my desk here. 

These are fond memories and I can almost smell the tropical air right now. 

Call me anything but late to dinner

This is one of my favorite pictures of Weenie.  I believe it was taken on one of those infamous Dorset Lake Ontario Canada fishing trips with the Nevins family.  How handsome!  His fingers are straight and it looks like he's got some guns going for himself!  Although it looks a little bit like he's wearing sneakers, I doubt it as I don't believe that would have been the normal fishing footwear of the time. 

I've been listening to people describe the endearments given to their grandparents and the stories have been so interesting!  Seems everyone has a story.  Until I heard these stories, I hadn't thought too hard about Weenie's name.  Weenie was always Weenie--our beloved grandfather.  Did you ever stop to think about the fact that EVERYONE called him Weenie, so his grandchildren were calling him the same thing the other church usher was calling him?  It would be like calling Dad Paddy.  I suppose he was really used to it but it never never dawned on me that "Weenie" meant anything other than "My Grandfather". 

As you probably know, Weenie had us calling his brother John "Uncle 4-5"--of course, he was actually Mom's Uncle John and I don't remember ever hearing her call him that.  Always 4-5.  And Fat Aunt Marg.  Skinny as Weenie but "Fat Aunt Marg".  He must still be smiling about that little joke on his brother and sister in law. 


We had Nanny for both grandmothers and Grampie for the other grandfather.  Pretty ordinary.  Gammy Flynn and Gammy Nevins.  I remember Gammy Flynn just barely.  I didn't like the way she smelled but as I view the old movies, I see she was fun loving.  As Mom would say " Weenie didn't lick it off the ground"!

Cards are a very fond memory of time spent together in multi-generational joy!

Beer, cigarettes, coins and cards.  It's all there.  These are cherished memories.

2012? Really?

Wow! 2012---it seemed like such a big number when I first saw it on my retirement benefit profile in 1979 (!).  Last night just before I fell asleep I was thinking about this post and realized 2012 will be the 10th anniversary of Mom's death.  Ten years!  I wasn't sleepy anymore upon that realization.  So I guess I've been thinking about dates and life timelines (or lifetime lines).

Nanny and Mom were each married at the age of 22 (or nearly so) and had their first child at age 23 (or nearly so).  Amy's 23.  When I was 22, I started working in Harpursville so it's kind of a nice transition between the generations.  I was almost 40 when Mary Jane died.  We moved to Walton when Mom was almost 40 and I don't think her life was ever the same again after that.  All other events seemed to be categorized "before" or "after" these points on the lifetime line.

Other kinds of life events help fill out the details of the lives of those that have gone before us.  Did you realize Weenie was our closest bloodline first generation American?  Both his parents were immigrants and he was their first child.  Born in America.  Born in Emporium PA among members of his mother's family.  I don't know if Weenie ever met his German grandmother but I do know his Irish grandmother had died before he was born.  This demographic must have impacted his life and I truly wish I'd realized that many many years ago when I could have asked him about it.  He's been gone almost 30 years now yet the memories still seem rich and detailed to me.

Anyway, I had a bit of a breakthrough with the Irish Ryans!  I finally found a birth record for the first of our Ryans born in America!  Catharine Ryan was born in Boston in 1856.  She had two older siblings born in Newfoundland so that helps me place the family prior to their journey to America.  I'd been looking for them in Gloucester but on a hunch, I tried Boston and there they were!  Just waiting for me to find this one little line buried in the record books over 150 years ago.  Now that I know they were in Boston in 1856, it helps piece together the puzzle of the old fisherman Timothy (the furthest back Ryan I've found so far)--it appears that perhaps the naturalization record I have does actually belong to him.  NCIS has nothing on me.  So I know you're just praying I'll share it with you.  Wish granted:

Click to enlarge.  I told you it was hidden.  Happy 2012.