Showing posts with label SusanCarver. Show all posts
Showing posts with label SusanCarver. Show all posts

Mar 2, 2024

The Susie Situation - Episode 6 - Hot For You

This can be viewed as a YouTube video (below) or read as a blog post (below that.) Accompanying documentation is at the end.



How far would you go for your Significant Other? Would you eat the food she likes? Move to the city he loves? Would you change religions? If your man were big into blackmail, would you participate? 

If you are joining us for the first time, this is Episode 6 in a series. Kate, Melody, and Nancy have been exploring a family mystery involving Aunt Susie, whose family house and barn burned down in 1912, soon after she was shipped off to a school for girls. We found out that Frank Hamilton was arrested for harming Susie, but was there a trial? We think all of these things are related, and we think this fire marked the beginning of this family’s downward spiral into intermittent homelessness. We’ve hired a genealogist to help us find out more, and we’re anxiously awaiting her findings.

We've also taken a look at my grandfather, Orland Carver. Grandpa Orlie. We don’t like what we see. But what about his wife, Annis Hubbard Sholes Carver? How does Grandma Annie fit into this equation?

It's 2018. The MeToo movement goes global. Sears and Roebuck goes bankrupt. And I receive a 54-page packet of court papers in the mail. The genealogist tells me they are preliminary court papers. Most are handwritten, in a really fast scribble, chicken scratch legalese, and they are incomplete.

What does she mean by incomplete? Well, they do suggest that a trial occurred, but they do not say what happened at the trial. There are papers about the original arrest, about the trial being rescheduled to a later date, subpoenas for witnesses to appear, and some curious pre-trial testimony from Ruth Hamilton.

I have to switch glasses, magnify the writing on a big screen, and reread this really bad handwriting several times, but fortunately, I have some experience reading chicken scratch.

It's 1978. The TV Show Dallas debuts on CBS. Everyone at school is singing "You're the one that I want" after watching Grease for the 3rd time. And The Reverend Jim Jones shocks the world, leaving us all with a new saying, "Don't drink the Kool-Aid." I'm 19 years old, working my first college job, grading freshmen comp papers. These are handwritten. Scribbled. Chicken scratch. I get a lot of practice reading really bad handwriting.

Throughout the semester a parade of young men come through the English Department doors in search of homework help. One of these boys asks me out. I change college majors because of him, follow him to another town, even get a job where he works. One Saturday night he takes me out to dinner at our favorite Chinese restaurant. He says he has something important to discuss. He reaches into his pocket. Is he about to propose? I hold my breath as he extends his hand and opens it to reveal ... his key to my apartment. He says he needs to give it back because he has just proposed, to his other girlfriend, and she said yes. That's when I realize, my man-picker is malfunctioning. Broken down. In need of an upgrade!

Like grandmother, like granddaughter. And now I wonder, if I had married that man, after changing my major and following him to another town, how much would I have been willing to do to keep him happy? Watch his TV shows? Raise kids his way? Blackmail the neighbor of his choice?

It's 1888. Imagine Annie Hubbard, 19 years old, at a neighborhood barn dance in Mars, Nebraska. Chet Fields plays the fiddle. His brother Ed is there too. When the Fields brothers play, all the young people come. The air crackles with a mix of nerves and excitement. Annie tugs at the faded ribbon in her hair as she watches him across the rough-hewn dance floor. The new boy, with his sun-streaked hair and the beginnings of a shy smile. He glances her way, then quickly down at his boots. The music breaks off, replaced with the dance caller's booming voice. Annie turns to her friend, swallowing a surge of disappointment. But then she sees him, shouldering his way through the crowd. "Hello, I'm Charley. Would you like to dance?"

I don't know if that's what happened, but dances were popular in the area, and so was Chet Fields. By March of 1889, Annie Hubbard and Charley Sholes must have found a meeting spot much more private than a public dance hall. According to her divorce papers, Annis and Charles got married on October 9, 1889, and he then deserted her, on October 9, 1889. Daughter Florence was born on December 31, 1889. It looks like Annie and Charles never planned to live together. I don't know if Florence ever met him or his 2nd family.


And you know that little voice I mentioned last episode, the one that says, "You're no good; you should be ashamed; you need to know your place?" How loud do you think that voice gets in the head of an unwed pregnant girl in 1889? Or a divorced lady with a small child? So when Orlie Carver came along, willing to marry her, did Annie feel like she had many choices? Don't you just want to travel back in time, take her by the shoulders, and shout, GRANDMA, THINK THIS THROUGH?!!

What do we really know about Annie? Not a lot. Childhood stories suggest that the Hubbard children were playful, with a tendency towards mischief, and that they all had a solid education in Vermont before arriving in Nebraska. Not a college education, but good for the times. 

Dad said Annie was not particularly demonstrative. Orlie was more affectionate, when he wasn't being violent. He also said that Annie had a lot of anxiety in later years, and that once she almost gave up on life. It was some time after the fire, in a little spider-infested stone house in Kansas, the house that leaked like a sieve, where she tried to hang herself from the rafters, but Uncle Bob cut her down. Bob would have been quite young still, perhaps 9 or 10?

Bob also tells of her calmly removing my dad, little Willie, from the middle of the bed when he was a toddler, so that she could shoot a rattlesnake that she saw hanging from the rafters directly above where he slept. 

And Dad wrote about Annie's actions during the 1918 Influenza Epidemic, when she spent countless hours caring for sick neighbors.

We’ve heard that in the years after the fire, Annie’s children were often dirty and unkempt, that she was often sick, and that she had a tendency to forget what years her children were born when reporting their ages to school authorities, or to coroners.

And what was her relationship with Orlie? From Dad's description, Orlie was in charge, and Annie's job was to follow along. 

At the end of her life Annie lost a fight with colorectal cancer. She was 56 years old, and when the kids visited the hospital, they report that she was incoherent, probably from pain medication. I don't think that's how she would like to be remembered. I'd rather remember her as the lady who shot down the rattlesnake. Annie, get your gun!

But now we have a new story from Ruth Hamilton. Ruth paints Annie in a very different light. Of course, just like that dance story that I made up a few paragraphs back, we have no idea how much of Ruth's story is true. 

It's 1911. September 12. Annie is a mother of eight. She’s been living with Orlie for 14 years. The Hamiltons are neighbors. And here is what Ruth Hamilton says in her pre-trial testimony. She says that Mrs. Carver came to the Hamilton home after dinner and asked to speak with her husband, Frank, who was upstairs resting. He came down. Then Mrs. Carver said, "I am going to send you over the road for having Susie out all night, but I am willing to settle if you will give me your grey team."

Ruth asked Mrs. Carver if Frank had done anything wrong or harmed Susie in any way, and Mrs. Carver said that he had not, but that he had Susie out all night, and that was against the law, and that she would send him over the road for it unless Frank gave her that grey team. 

According to Ruth, when the Hamiltons turned Mrs. Carver down, she then said that she would be willing to settle for the bay colts, which were inferior to the grey team, not worth as much money. And when they refused to part with either the greys or the bays, Mrs. Carver proclaimed in a loud and angry voice, "I will make it hot for you and send you over the road."

Ruth goes on to testify that Carver and his wife live on a Kincaid homestead not far from the Hamilton's, and that on several occasions they've offered to trade the entire homestead for that grey team.

And finally, Ruth says that she ran into Mrs. Carver in front of the drug store in O'Neill on the same day after the preliminary hearing in this case, and she said to her then, “I hope you feel better since you swore to all those lies!" 

Whereupon Mrs. Carver started to cry and answered, "I had to do it, and if you were in my place, you would do it." 

Where do I start?

Everybody seems to agree that Frank had Susie out all night. Had her out where? What would a middle aged neighbor-man be doing all night with a 13-year-old girl that falls into the category of “not harmful”? Astronomy lessons? Feeding homeless cattle? I've wracked my brain. 

And what about the language here? Would somebody with Grandma's education level use phrases like "I will make it hot for you" or "I will send you over the road"? Maybe. 

Then there's this whole thing about the horses. The Carvers would do anything to get those greys. Would a set of horses really be worth an entire 600-acre homestead? And I'm remembering comments Kate used to hear from the family years ago, "The Carvers were nothing but a bunch of horse thieves." I didn't think they meant literal horse thieves, but ... maybe they did?

And finally, back to the language. 

  • I will make it hot for you. 

  • I will send you over the road. 

Doesn't this sound like something we should put on a set of travel mugs?

2018 was an eventful year, with all these court papers, and this new story about Grandma. Newspapers started to be digitized at a faster and faster pace. And I talked to Cousin Melody for the first time. You know that surgery I mentioned back in Episode One? It's Melody's fault I got that surgery to start with. If you want to hear more, check back next time!


Thanks to Amy Johnson Crow for providing a framework for people who don't know what to say next when writing about genealogy. We're loosely following her 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks framework. 

Photo Credits From the video

The Pre-Trial Testimony of Ruth Hamilton

I am going to put this in a separate post here.

Florence's Birth Year

We have several documents to help understand Florence's birth year. When put together, the evidence suggests December 31, 1889 as the logical birth date. Further evidence in the future may prove this incorrect; however, it is a reasonable conclusion at this time.

Birth Certificates, Announcements Etc
Unfortunately, no birth certificates were issued for this time frame, and so far I've found no church records or announcements in local papers. The Neligh Leader was publishing quite regularly at that time and seems to have covered the Mars area fairly well. I see a number of references to Cyrus and Mary Carver in 1889. In next door Knox county the Niobrara Pioneer was also in print. But, nothing about this birth, so far.

Whenever her birth month is listed, it is always listed as December, so I'm going to assume December is correct.

These state that Charles and Annis were married Oct 9, 1889 and that he deserted her on Oct 9, 1889. They further state that daughter Florence is 6 years old. This was initially filed on January 14, 1896 and then finalized on June 5, 1896.

Obvious thing here: it is all handwritten, and the 5 and the 6 look very similar. So I could be wrong in how I am reading that handwriting. But the part that says when they were married and when he deserted her is very legible.

This is in April of 1906 and states that Florence is 16. It is signed by Florence, Annis, and Orland. This would put her birth year in 1889 if birth month is December.

1900 Census Record
This was enumerated on June 28, 1900. It says that Florence is 10 and was born in December of 1889. The birth years and ages of the other children are correct, although I cannot tell you why Clarence is called Admiral here.








1910 Cen1910 Census Record
This was enumerated on May 10. It states that Florence is 19, which would put her birth year in 1890 if birth month is December.


1920 Census Record
Taken in January 1920. Age 30 in January 1930 puts birth date in 1889 if birth month is December. Note that this record is extremely accurate. All 8 children's ages are correct (according to the birth information I have for them) including the 3 youngest, whose ages include number of months. 


This gives a birth date of Dec 31, 1890, provided by husband Clarence. It wouldn't surprise me at all for Clarence to get the birth year incorrect. He's got 9 kids, no wife, and a funeral. He's getting ready to pack the whole bunch up and drive them all to Grandma and Grandpa's house so they can try to fit 10 more people into a 3 room abode where some of the Carver kids are already camping in the back yard. When does he have time for the finer things in life, like remembering what year his dearly departed was born?

Gravestone
Says "1889 - 1890" age 30. Since 2 out of those 3 facts are incorrect, I don't put much stock in the gravestone. It is wonderful that somebody put it there that, but it is not a good source for factual info. Probably put there later by one of the children?

Feb 18, 2024

The Susie Situation - Episode 5 - Stale Old Stories

You can watch this on YouTube (below). Copies of news articles are in the written version (below that.)



If you’re joining us for the first time, we are cousins investigating a 100 year old family mystery. We call it The Susie Situation. This is episode 5.

Jan 5, 2024

The Susie Situation - Episode 1 - Things That Burn

My family left us many things - a predisposition to cancer, diminutive stature, a distinct lack of generational wealth. They neglected to leave photos. We don't know what Grandpa looked like, or two of our three aunts. Those three aunts died way too soon and really needed to meet more men. That's what we've decided from where we sit -- three nieces and grand nieces, learning about Dad's three sisters, while we unravel a 100 year old mystery that we're calling "The Susie Situation." Our story starts with a fire.

This is available as a video (below) or as a written work (below that.) 


I wake up most mornings thinking that I'm getting old. Why is this at the forefront of my thoughts at dawn? Who knows.

Last year I had surgery to remove various body parts before they had a chance to acquire cancer. My father's family gave me the gift of being genetically hospitable to certain types of cancer, and I don't need those parts anymore, so it seemed like the thing to do, but ...

Something happens when they re-arrange all those parts inside of you. It must create free space for trapped air? After years of gas-free living (except for the summer of '69 - and we don't know what was going on there) I found myself waking up at 3am with copious amounts of excess flatulence.

My morning routine the first few weeks after surgery involved waking up, thinking about getting old, noticing which body part hurt most, remembering that I'm not going to be around forever, and then telling myself to stop whining, because I've outlived many women in my family. This series of thoughts might take anywhere from 3 minutes to 3 hours, after which, resolving to go about my day with dignity and grace, I would roll over, sit up, and fart.

Do I recommend this surgery? Well, it might have prolonged the lives of some of those women I've outlived. Even a little bit of standard medical care might have helped. I mean, I'm not a doctor, but I'm pretty sure aspirin is not the best and only painkiller for breast cancer. Uncle Clarence, I'm talking to you.

My father's three sisters all died before I was born. I don't even know what two of them looked like. Sometimes I hear rumors of photos. "My sister might have some, but she isn't speaking to me and won't share" or "My uncle had all the photos, and then his house burned down."

Things that burn. There's actually an old family story about a house and a barn burning down on the same day, back when my father was two years old. He wrote about this in a manuscript he left me. 

He says, “We were living on this homestead near Spencer, Nebraska. And Dad was away from home."

I guess the rest of the family was out getting the cows. Except for his sister Susie. For some reason she wasn't there. On their way home, a thunderstorm came up on the prairie.

"There was one really bright flash and then a hard clap of thunder. Then we saw smoke coming from our new barn. It was on fire, and we couldn't save it. Before we got to the barnyard, there was another really bright flash and another deafening roar, and smoke came pouring out of our house -- our new house!"

Now, when I was a kid, I noticed that if I asked the wrong question during a family story, I would often get an illusive answer.

"Dad, what are the odds of lightning striking two structures on the same land on the same day, catching them both on fire?"

"Well ... I couldn't say."

"Dad, where was Grandpa during this time?"

"Well ... sometimes he was away."

"Dad, where was Susie?"

"Well ... you know, I was only two years old."

As I got older I discovered that this lightning story was the official story, but there was an underlying suspicion. Subtext. Family lore. A suggestion that this fire was set on purpose. Why? Nobody explained. They hemmed and hawed and said, "Well ...."

So I set out to find other sources of information. For years I searched through newspaper listings and other resources in Boyd county, near Spencer. I got negative results. That's what the professional genealogists tell you when you hire them to look for things, and they don't find them. "I searched. I got negative results. That will be four hundred and fifty dollars, please. I prefer a check."

Then one day I broadened my search to Holt county, a few miles south of Spencer, and that's when I discovered a tiny little news article in the Atkinson Graphic, dated July 12, 1912: "Orlin Carver of Phoenix had the misfortune to lose his house and household goods last Friday night by fire. Mr. Carver lives on a Kinkaid homestead and the loss will be an especially heavy one for him."

It didn't mention a barn. And Grandpa's first name was spelled wrong - Orlin instead of Orland - but I've often seen it misspelled in this fashion. My dad was born in 1910, so he would have been 2 in 1912. I had no idea where Phoenix or Kinkaid were, but a quick look at a map showed that Atkinson is 41 miles south of Spencer. The dates are right. The place seems right. There were not many Carvers in the area. This looked like my family. Now what?

I reached out to my cousins, Kate and Melody. "HELP!" They were patient, letting me bury them in research, listening to my dramatic overshares and sighs of confusion. They passed information back and forth between me and their aging parents, adding information of their own, and suggesting new avenues for research. Over the last year we've pieced together large parts of this story while our own stories unfolded in parallel..

If we were writing the script for a movie, we would have to admit that the script is not complete. We're hoping that if we release some updates, a bit at a time, we'll figure it out as we go. Perhaps more of our cousins will provide feedback and help us add depth and clarity. Perhaps the final family narrative will be crowdsourced.

And perhaps I can change my morning routine. Wake up and think, yes, darn it, I'm getting old, but at least I've shared what I know. And also, finally, thank heavens, that farting has subsided.

Nov 25, 2018

In Flew Enza



Excerpt from journal of Orland William Carver Jr. Portland, Oregon, 1976.

Two doctors consult on the porch of a small wood frame house in the Smelter Hill district of Joplin, Missouri. Inside, four young people lie on pallets on the floor of the main room. A fifth child watches from the doorway of a back room. He is thin and pale and doesn't look particularly well himself.

The little house is usually cold, having no insulation to speak of, but the children's mother has tacked blankets over the windows and added extra wood to the fireplace. As a result, the main room is absolutely sweltering. Even so, some of the children shiver on their pallets.

It is 10:30 on Wednesday morning, November 27, 1918. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving day. The Joplin Herald calls for increasing cloudiness today, with a chance of rain tomorrow.

During the last few days these doctors have tried every remedy they can think of, from a special white powder to a contraption called a pulmotor, a portable ventilator housed in a large wooden suitcase. It looks like the grandfather of a modern day sleep apnea machine.

None of their remedies have helped, and now they've escaped to the porch for some fresh air while they discuss what to do next. "Let's try the white powder," murmurs the older doctor. The powder is in his doctor's bag. He plans to mix it with water. The younger doctor will use an eye dropper to dribble this mixture into Susie's mouth.

Susie is not really a child anymore. She is 20, but in Annie's mind, Susie is still her baby girl. Annie hovers, waiting to bring whatever the doctors need. As the doctors shake their heads and talk quietly out on the porch, she begins to pace and wring her hands, silent tears running down her face.

The powder doesn't help. At 11 Susie takes her last breath. Six hours later Clarence dies as well. A neighbor lady comes over to try to comfort the children's mother while they wait for Susie and Clarence to be taken to the morgue, but at this particular point in time, Annie Carver is inconsolable.

Annie's husband Orland is unreliable at best, so the family has become accustomed to sporadic stretches of hunger and homelessness, but the last few months have been rough, even for them. In July they packed up the wagon, hitched up the mules, and started the 220 mile journey from Enid, Oklahoma to Joplin, Missouri.

On the way young Ashton came down with typhoid fever. They were only 20 miles away from Joplin, but Ashton was too sick to travel, and the family was almost out of food. They stopped and asked for help. Kind local residents put them up in an empty house and called a doctor. They stayed for at least two weeks while Ashton recuperated.

Baxter Springs News (Baxter Springs, Kansas) · 30 Aug 1918, Fri · Page 2
Baxter Springs News (Baxter Springs, Kansas) 06 Sep 1918
Baxter Springs News (Baxter Springs, Kansas) - 13 Sep 1918
In mid-September they finally made it to Joplin, rented this house, and got settled. Susie got a position as a telephone operator. Clarence and Orland found work as well. But then, Orland announced that he was leaving. “Mother, children, the government has called me to work in the shipyards in Virginia, to help with the war effort.”

The family was shocked but not totally surprised. Orland had a habit of leaving like this, for days or weeks at a time. None of the kids knew where he went or what he did while he was gone, but they assumed he was working elsewhere or looking for work.

Somewhere during all of this hubbub, daughter Sina Belle complained of illness and took to her bed. A visiting nurse examined her and said that she had tuberculosis. The nurse helped Annie make arrangements to send Sina to the nearby Jasper County Tuberculosis hospital in Webb City.

On November 11 news spread quickly that the war was over. An armistice had been signed with Germany. The older kids stayed out late celebrating. Annie thought this was appropriate under the circumstances. Nearly everybody was out celebrating.

A few days later Susie came home with a cough, Clarence woke up with a fever, and Robby and Willie complained of headaches. They all had the Spanish flu, that super-sized worldwide pandemic that killed so many people in 1918.

During the weeks before they got sick, Annie spent countless hours helping sick neighbors. Now the neighbors helped her, bringing soup on Thanksgiving day and watching after the younger kids while she went alone to the burial.

For those of you who are counting, that's six kids having three scary diseases all within the span of about 90 days. In later years, Annie was to wonder if the kids caught the flu on Armistice day, out in the cold with all the other flu-ridden celebrants. It's hard to know. At the rate this strain was spreading, they could have caught it anywhere.

When my father (Willie) wrote this story down, he called it “The Valley of the Shadow”. He remembered things an 8-year-old would remember. Instead of influenza, the school kids called it “hen flew endways”. They also had a little jump rope chant: “I had a little bird, its name was Enza. I opened the window, and in flew Enza.”

Articles on the subject say that the Spanish flu of 1918 was unique, in that it was particularly hard on the young and the strong. In this case, it took the family's only sources of income. Fortunately Annie was able to find work to tide the family over until Orland returned.

Susan Viola Carver and Clarence Dean Carver are both buried in Fairview cemetery, presumably in pauper's graves.

Aunt Susie, Uncle Clarence, rest in peace.

Joplin News Herald 28 Nov 1918 Page 1

Joplin Globe 28 Nov 1918 Page 4

Notes: 
1) Despite the information in these articles and on their death certificates, Susie and Clarence would have been 20 and 18, respectively. 

2) I found a newspaper article dated Nov 2, 1918, that says both Orland and Clarence were called to Hopewell, Virginia to the munitions plant there. However, Clarence must not have gone.
Joplin News Herald 2 Nov 1918 Page 5

Jun 23, 2018

Susan Viola Carver Death Certificate 1918.11.27 Joplin Missouri

Description:
Susan Viola Carver Death Certificate
Note: She was actually born in 1898 and would have been 20, not 18.

Source:
State of Missouri Vital Records

Transcription:
Place of death
County: Jasper       City: Joplin (Smelter Hill)
Reg. District No: 411      Primary Reg. District No: 2002
Full Name:
Susie Carver (residence not listed)
Sex:
Fem
Color or Race: 
W
S/M/W/D:
Single
Date of Birth:
Mar 26, 1900
Age:
18 years
Occupation of Deceased:
(Not filled out)
Birthplace:
Nebraska
Name of Father:
Orland Carver
Birthplace of Father:
Wis
Maiden Name of Mother:
Annis Hubbard
Birthplace of Mother:
Vermont
Informant:
Mrs. Annie Carver
Address: Joplin, Mo
Filed:
Nov 29, 1918
Date of Death:
11-27-1918
I hearby certify that I attended deceased from:
11-27-1918 to Nov 27, 1918.
That I last saw her alive on: Nov 27, 1918. That death occurred on the date stated above, at 11 am.
The Cause of Death was as follows:
Lobar pneumonia /
Contributory: Influenza
Place of Burial:
Fairview Cemetery, 11-28,1918
Image: