Rose Ring 1973-2013

A while ago, I did some posts telling the story of some of my cherished possessions.  They included Mom's baby shoes, a charm bracelet from Nanny Ryan and Weenie's lighter.  It is important to document the stories behind these things so that, someday long into the future, our children can make informed decisions about what to do with them.  This is such a story.

My rose colored ring was part of my first major purchase once I had a "real" job at Brooks' in Walton.  I bought another ring at the same time from the jewelry store in town--Paveglio's maybe.  They were on sale.   The other ring had a small purple stone in it that fell out several years later but I had an engagement ring to wear on that finger soon after so I didn't miss that one very much.  But I've worn the rose ring every day since about 1973.

Until about a year ago.  I was gardening and went to dump the cart when my ring got caught in a nasty yank.  My finger was sore for several days and the ring was badly misshapen. 

The picture doesn't really do the damage justice.  Anyhow, I thought I could live without the ring.  I wore the "root beer" ring in my little finger instead but I came to the conclusion that I really missed wearing that ring so I took it in for repair.  Initially, they told me it would be about $40 to reshape the ring.  I figured $1/year maintenance wasn't a bad price to pay for something I was really missing. 

But, of course, it can't be that easy.  The phone call comes from the jeweler that the ring needs more significant repair at a price that was probably about 3 times its original cost.  Understand that this wasn't real high quality gold or anything, it just meant a lot to me because it was the first thing I bought with my own money (and it was pretty too), so the original cost wasn't more than I could pay on a part time minimum wage salary from Brooks.  Reluctantly I told them not to continue with the repair. 

Then--epiphany.  This ring is a symbol of my work life.  It was shiny and pretty back when I first started in the work world.  With retirement looming, the ring gets stretched and pulled so far out of shape that it can no longer be worn.  Perfect analogy for the ending of my professional career.  I left teaching feeling kind of wrecked and bent out of shape.  So I'm pleased to keep the ring to symbolize my working years.  And when I'm gone, it can be too.

A Father's Day post about our great grandmother

This started out as a post about my memories of Grampie for Father's Day.  You will soon see how far off base I've gone, if you haven't already figured out that Father's Day was last weekend.  I hope all the Dads and Dads-by-proxy out there had a great day.

I received this picture of our great grandparents William Ryan and his wife Katherine Bentley Ryan.  This must have been taken some time before William died in 1934.  I would check on women's fashions for the time period to narrow down the possible date but you can imagine how distracted I would get then!  Perhaps another day......  Anyhow, William died at a hospital in Danvers and I wonder if this might be a picture taken on a visit??

Katherine Bentley Ryan was the daughter of Captain John Bentley, a middle child out of six children.  Her father was lost at sea when she was about 14 and her mother died just 3 years later.  I've often wondered what those years must have been like for that family.  It must have been difficult for all of them and I'm quite sure these experiences impacted their adult lives.

Katherine and William had 9 children; Grampie was 6th in line.  Katherine spent 11 years as a widow following William's death.

Another cousin, George Handran, gave me a packet of papers many years ago originally regarding Katherine's death.  You can see it in the lower left corner above (if you click the image it will become larger and more read-able).  I've included nearly the whole page since it was so interesting to see the article about Cape Pond Ice preparing to harvest the ice that January.  Also included on this page is the notification that the World War II efforts would be requiring "every able bodied young man"--Dad included (though I don't think he was drafted).  Even more interesting is the "Lively Spirit" article about an event held in East Gloucester, which Dad participated in.  George was very pleased to point this out to me.  Dad was 17 years old at the time--I can only imagine how PERT those observations must have been.

Anyhow, Katherine died alone in her upstairs apartment and her son Paul (Grampie) was the one who alerted the firemen for assistance.  The article is mistaken that she was the daughter of William Bentley but otherwise listed survivors accurately.  It was one survivor, her brother Martin, which led me on another merry chase as I was preparing this post.

Of course, I mine such article for names and to make connections.  One name here, Joseph A. Fialho, verified a family connection I had pending.  I've had these articles many years and still find new stuff contained within!  You note that Dad was a pallbearer for his grandmother.  Katherine was buried in a different cemetery than her husband for reasons yet to be discovered (though I have some suspicions). 

Hey, wanna have lunch together?

One thing I have to say I miss in retirement is interaction and conversation with adults other than the tight social group with whom I choose to spend time.  This week's news and media storm over Bowe Bergdahl's release in exchange for Guantanamo prisoners just begs for lunchtime banter with a variety of people who get their news from an even wider variety of sources. 

I have formed some opinions but I wonder how they will hold up in public discussion.  Having people around every day (more than) willing to share their own opinions helps to structure and validate my own.  So I feel a little adrift without such an anchor in my everyday life. 

We generally surround ourselves with people of like minds so those people may not offer those other viewpoints that are so important when forming opinions on popular topics.  Sometimes we feel very strongly about something and we don't need or want validation from others.  We'll stick to our guns regardless.  I'm not referring to such times in this case.

As I said, in this case with Bowe Bergdahl and the surrounding controversies, I have formed some opinions but am open to discussion and further input so I can solidify my stance.  Our cats do not help me with this and they are the ones I usually share my lunch with these days.  So--to the adults in my past life--I miss you even if I may have thought you idiots in the not-too-distant past. 

Having said that, I am not one bit sorry I retired.  The transition feels nearly complete--I was told it takes about a year and I guess that means I'm right on schedule.  It does feel very weird to be a "retired" person.  Aren't those people old???

Random Stuff

Some randomness for you as you enjoy your long weekend and remember our veterans. 

1.  Can anyone tell me when (or why) the word I used to know as "yeah" or "yea" become "yah"?  I realize this sounds a bit like Dad, but taking the "e" out of that word also takes the "e" sound out of it, correct?  So, for me, "yah" should sound like the German word for yes: Ja.  (Shout out to Emmy).  It bugs me when I see this.  Let's put the e back into circulation when we are cheering.

2.  Overheard yesterday:  "Could you take a selfie of me standing over here?"  Hmmm.....(again sounding like Dad)....shouldn't a selfie be taken by the "self" involved????  I wanted to scream the same thing that woman in one of the insurance commercial says:  "It doesn't work like that.  None of this works like that."

3.  Speaking of Dad, I was thinking of him as I was madly trimming overgrown bushes in the garden this weekend.  Before I knew it, it was down to its nubs but it seemed like the thing to do.  Now I get it, Dad.  I do. 

4.  Those bushes I was trimming to their bases are spirea bushes.  I believe those are the kinds of bushes we had outside the front window on Dennison Road.  They had pretty white flowers and I wanted the same for my own house.  I wasn't able to find the white ones, but I did plant other varieties.  Recently I read this article that suggested that spirea was "old school". 

I believe our Dennison Road spirea came with the house, and Dad may have tried to kill them.  But I am the one that wants to bring it back to my own life.  Interestingly, those bushes I trimmed to their nubs had a tag at the base that I found when I made my way there.  Spirea.  Now nubs in my garden.

Bam!

I have made it my mission lately to try to "close the door" on the open-ended ancestors' lives.  There are no fewer than 820 living relatives currently in the family tree.  Of course, a number of these are people like you and I.  And then there are those who probably died over 100 years ago.  And I'd like to close that door by finding the death information for these people thereby lowering that number of living relatives to something closer to a reasonable number such as those you might invite to a wedding. When I find a death date and enter it into the family tree, I exclaim "BAM!" out loud.  Even when alone.  Retirement allows me many more opportunities for "BAM!" than ever before.  (I'm not sure that came out the way I intended)

I randomly select one of those living relatives that should be long-dead and start looking.  Pretty soon I'm wandering down a tangled road of maybe and perhaps and uncovering potential stories.  Sometimes I get lost and forget to blog. 

I thought you might be semi-interested in one such story.  Grampie Brown (Nanny Flynn's grandfather) had 5 brothers and sisters.  He had one older sister Drusilla and one younger brother Walter along with three younger sisters Jane, Elizabeth and Ida.  This family lived primarily in Buffalo until the children became adults.
Drusilla, Jane, Elizabeth, Ida and Grampie are all accounted for with full stories from birth to death. 

But Walter does not and he has bothered me for a long time.  I want to find his story, but Walter Brown is a fairly common name especially in a city like Buffalo NY.  Two of the sisters married and lived in Michigan.  Michigan is much more open than New York in sharing vital records like marriage, death and cemetery records so I was able to track them even though females are harder because you may not know their married names.  I was lucky to obtain their father's will which listed each of the children and their residence at the time. 

Furthermore, I was lucky that the youngest daughter Ida married a man with an unusual name Ivah Bradt.  They lived in Ellicottville and their mother lived with them after her husband died. Take note of this tidbit from the Ellicottville NY Post April 1889:

Take note of station agent I.N. Bradt losing his goose.  These people had a hard time keeping track of their geese (maybe you remember another lost goose during the Civil War period.....and maybe you don't).

Anyhow, my laser-focused attention on Walter's life has not produced anything definitive yet.  He might have married a Sarah Armstrong and lived in Buffalo himself.  Or it was another Walter Brown.  Sigh.  I'm going to put Walter aside and try for another "BAM!"  See you on the other side.

I have just returned from a quick visit to Erie to see Amy and help with some wedding planning.  I thought this would be a good time to update you all as well so you could plan appropriately.  Amy's wedding to Michael Heisler will be held in the Erie PA area in August 2015.  Although the venue has not been confirmed, she is planning to be married Sunday Aug 16 2015.  So--yes, the wedding is in Erie PA on a Sunday in August.

She is debating between two venues.  Nick's Place and the Ambassador Center.  I think you can get a hint from their names of the major differences between the two sites.  She has some tough decisions to make in this regard!!!

Nick's Place is 15-20 minutes from Erie closer to Edinboro (a college town).  If she chooses Nick's Place, we would probably arrange for rooms at a Comfort Inn in Edinboro as well as for rooms in Erie PA for those that might prefer to be closer to the highway and city life.

The Ambassador Center is conveniently located just off the highway in Erie and has two hotels available at the site.  If she selects the Ambassador Center, the reception would be held from 6-10 PM as per their policy.

In either case, it is her intention to hold the ceremony at the reception venue.  We understand this is both long into the future as well as a long trip for most of you so I wanted to get the word out for you to start thinking about your plans.  If you are interested in what goes on in Erie PA, check out www.visiterie.com 

Wedding planning is stressful for all as it tends to say a great deal about the personalities of the couple while at the same time attempting to appease the interests of the families involved.  Amy told me her main focus will be on making the day wonderful for her guests.  I remain uncertain of how to behave as a future mother-in-law.  When you have children, there are some helpful guidelines provided for how to be a good parent.  Not so much in this world of in-lawing.


Of course, this all brings to mind other Ryan weddings.  I think about what Mom and Dad must have been feeling.  It wasn't new to them as it is for us, but each child and spouse carry their own weight with their parents and in laws. However, to keep tradition alive, we will try to remember to provide a scoreboard to keep track of favorite uncle points :)

School Days

I recently found Mary Jane's kindergarten report card and gave it to Jessie to share with her sisters.  I think Mary Jane had Mrs. Rocker and so did I.  It got me to thinking about my days in school.  I think I can remember all of my elementary teachers.  I have memories of each year which I cherish. 

Although I don't remember it, the story goes that I missed my first day of kindergarten due to poison ivy.  This would have been the fall of 1961 when grades K-2 were housed in the Babcock School .  I think I remember the kindergarten rooms were to the right after you entered the building.  I kind of remember the cubbies and the general layout of the room.  Perhaps I was a little sickly because the story is also told that I missed the Valentine's Day party that year and Russell Stebbins (and his mother) delivered my valentines to me at home.  I do remember that Russell was my boyfriend that year. 

First grade was Mrs. Millar.  Maybe because it was the way things were done then, Mrs. Millar tried to get me to use my right hand to write but Mom insisted I be allowed to use my left hand.  I can recall the Dick and Jane books and that there was a word that appeared in the title of the next chapter that I did not recognize.  I saw that word on television that night and asked what it was--it was something like "too"--and I felt extraordinarily proud of myself for figuring that out before we got to that next chapter.  In later years, I babysat for the Millar family.  I think they had a lumber yard.

Second grade was Mrs. Smith.  I remember reading groups were called by bird names--I think I was a Bluebird.  We did clock faces and clock faces and clock faces to learn to tell time.  I guess all that needs to be done today is to teach students to recognize numbers.  Reading a clock is becoming a lost art. 

For third grade, you moved to the Main Street school.  I had Mrs. Lesso.  I think she was Mrs. Smith's sister.  My outstanding memory from that year is returning to school with my first pair of glasses.  I clearly remember being able to see every minute mark on the wall clock.  We must have had lockers because I remember standing outside the classoom looking down the hallway into the room with my new glasses and being able to see so clearly!!!

In fourth grade I had Mrs. Moore.  I liked her a great deal.  She had kind of a deep gravelly voice.  I'm friends on Facebook with her daughter Darra.  I think they lived on Olive Street across from the house we lived in before we moved to Dennison Road.  We did lots of math that year.

Mrs. Langer was my fifth grade teacher and those rooms were upstairs.  I shared a locker with (probably) the only black girl in the school.  I thought that was pretty special.  I remember I had trouble with the word vineyard one day and Mrs. Langer gave me the hint that we had them all around our house so I could come up with the right word.  Today I realize this means she knew where we lived and now I know that our house was on the very edge of the district, I wonder how she knew.  Her husband was a science teacher in the high school.  That was the year that I was apparently chosen to participate in chorus but somehow never knew that and I was asked why I wasn't attending the rehearsals.  Can you imagine anyone choosing me for chorus?  Maybe it's a false memory........but I don't think so.

Miss Sullivan was my 6th grade teacher and no one wanted mean old Miss Sullivan.  I remember we were assigned some kind of project--I think it might have been ancient civilizations.  We were given these packets of stuff to present to the class about the topic.  It was brand spanking new stuff and I loved that.  Miss Sullivan told me I'd be presenting first.  Too bad I can't quite recall the actual topic.  I do remember being very jealous of Sheree Restivo (first of all--what an exotic name) because she wore STOCKINGS and they made her legs look so soft.  I really wanted my legs to look soft like that but Mom's rule was no stockings til Confirmation.  Now my legs look soft without stockings. 

The Babcock Elementary was completed in 1952 so it was still a fairly new building when we went through there.  In 1986 it became apartments.  I'm not sure what is there today.  The Main Street school building still stands though it is in very rough shape.  Sometimes when I have trouble falling asleep, I walk myself through that building from classroom to classroom and office in my memory.  Mr. Hall was the principal and Paula made her debut on the stage in that auditorium, if memory serves correctly.  It was in that auditorium that we were gathered to be informed of the results of our music tests to see what instruments we might be best suited for.  Clarinet for me.  Short lived career.

It had previously served as the high school.  There was a big parking lot behind the building that faced the elementary school so these buildings were very close to each other. 

I know some of you don't have these specific Silver Creek school memories, but I hope you have some memories of the years you spent in school that bring smiles to your face every now and then.