2019 - Gratitude Month #4 - Grandchildren

Gratitude day #4

Today I am grateful for my grandchildren.

And, I have a whole gaggle of them!

You couldn't live much further apart in the United States than where they live - California and Maine! Every year we have been able to visit both of them. This is the first year we are not able to see either of them.

And, I'm telling...it's difficult.

These young people like us. And, we have such joy when we get to come and just be grandparents. Because of the distance, we aren't able to physically be there for birthdays and holidays, for Grandparents' Day at school, and other momentous times in their lives. I can't begin to describe how difficult that is.

But, in our minds, these children are perfect. They have all been brought up well, and are kind and decent in their behavior. When eating in restaurants, it's easy to see that their parents have worked with them teaching them manners. Those who may have cringed when they saw so many children come through the restaurant door soon notice that they will behave better than most of the adults in the room.

Kerry and I pray for each one of them by name every day. It's not a very nice world to grow up in, and we pray for their safety, that they will make good choices, and that they will love life like their grandparents do.

We cherish their letters and cards to us, their phone calls and texts, and just everything about them.

Like I said, they're perfect. And, we are so grateful for them.

2019 - Gratitude Month #3 - My home

Gratitude day #3

I am so grateful for my home. It is the most beautiful building in all of North America; perhaps the world.

We don't move around much. We have lived here for over 35 years, and I want to stay in our home for as long we are able to.

Kerry found our home while delivering mail to a bank. There was a catalog there that shows different properties for sale in the area, and he picked one up. On the back page was this house. It had been part of a foreclosure, and was available at a good price.

So, he brought it back to our other house to show it to me.

I was not interested at all. We had three children and I was heavily pregnant with the fourth. The third child had been in and out of the hospital. My mom was dying.

There was no way.

Kerry decided to bring me out and show it to me. That was all it took. A short time later, a realtor opened it up for us to see, and a lilac bush was in full bloom, whose scent was filling up the entire downstairs. It was Mother's Day weekend.

Our first offer was accepted, and we made our plans. While I was delivering Erik in the hospital, men from our church were moving our household. We now lived in a 16-room house on 1 1/2 acres of land.

It has been one of the greatest blessings we have ever had.

Birthdays, Christmas mornings, camping in the backyard, Kerry climbing trees with the kids, holiday meals, Family Home Evenings (gathering with only our family every Monday night, and shutting the world out), piano lessons, teaching the kids how to harmonize, funeral gatherings, taking shelter during tornado warnings, hunkering down during snowstorms and sub-zero temperatures, etc.

I think our beautiful home has seen it all.

One particularly tender memory comes from the many times the six of us would arrive home late at night. I was dog-tired, and would go in the house...alone. Where was everyone else?

They were in the yard with their dad looking up at the night sky as he showed them the stars and the constellations. We have no light pollution here in the country, so he would be teaching them in either the front yard or on the deck. All five of them would have their necks craned upwards as they marveled. Kerry was also teaching them to look heavenward for many reasons.

Our house burst with joy at each new accomplishment we would have - learning to walk, being potty trained, getting a good grade, and welcoming someone home.

And, our house wept as we said our goodbyes to our oldest child, whose voice would no longer be heard within its walls.

I guess the important thing is that if something ever happened to our house, I would still have a home, which is much more than the physical structure. Kerry and I planned our home before we ever owned one.

Today I am grateful for my home, the learning that has taken place within its walls, my shelter for keeping the evils of the world out, and for the people who grew up within its embrace.

That would include me.

2019 - Gratitude Month #2 - Dad

Gratitude day #2

Since Gratitude day #1 was about my mom, it would be only fitting that this day shows my gratitude of my father.

Just like my mom, Dad was born in the eastern hills of Kentucky; the middle child of a large family. He would often tell me of some of the escapades he and his brothers would get into, and I sat there in horror! I grew up as an only child. I just couldn't imagine.

There wasn't much opportunity to better your life in those early days of the 1900s. His father and brothers had gone to West Virginia to work in the coal mines, then came on back across the Big Sandy River to Kentucky. Later, Dad would return to West Virginia and join his brothers working in the mines.

Dad only went to sixth grade, and spent three years in the fourth grade. Mom had gone to eight grade. Dad particularly valued any opportunity for education, for the opportunities didn't exist for him.

He and Mom met each other at some sort of a country church function, and were married in Kentucky. It could have been a dance, or Sunday School, or just "dinner on the ground." She was always sort of vague about it.

Their first two daughters were born in Kentucky. Shortly after, Dad took his family to West Virginia, where one more daughter was born in a town that no longer can be found - Ethel, WV.

It was from there that Dad was drafted into World War II to serve in the US Navy at Pearl Harbor. From what I can recall, he was the only one from that coal camp to be called up. Thanks to the kindness of friend Randy W Whited, who retrieved his military record for me, I learned a whole lot more about his Navy service than I ever knew before. Even my sisters didn't know some of the things in the record, for they were very young when he was gone.

Dad arrived in Pearl Harbor after the attack, but could still recall with a shudder how the base looked. They were still retrieving bodies to be shipped home. While he was gone, my mother became deathly ill, and his service record shows the tremendous amount of correspondence written to get him back home. Finally, it was approved, and he came home on a cargo plane, not realizing that he was riding among dozens of coffins.

Mom recovered, Dad went to work as a plant manager for the Pepsi-Cola bottling company, and all seemed well...until those Mormon missionaries came along. Mom and my sisters were so pleased with the decision to join; Dad wanted nothing to do with it. Plus, the missionaries were pushing Dad.

You just didn't push my dad.

So, as with so many others who were taking the highways north for better jobs, Dad made a trip to Ohio. He was looking for three things:
1. That better paying job.
2. A better opportunity for education for my sisters.
3. No Mormon Church.

He found exactly what he was looking for, and moved the family in a blizzard on January 1, 1950. Just four months later, the Church opened up the area for proselyting, and two missionaries knocked on my mom's door.

My beer drinking, cigarette smoking Dad began to listen, and was baptized two years later. He was Bishop of the local congregation when I was baptized.

Dad was a good man that I never had to fear. His talent amazed me, for there was nothing he couldn't build if he needed it. He built me the best wheat grinder out of a washing machine motor he found at the dump, which I still have and use to this day. He was an engineer without a degree.

I was my dad's "boy". He had started his own refrigeration and air conditioning business, and often took me along on his service calls. He taught me not to be afraid of taking something apart to figure out why it wasn't working. Open it up. Keep all of the pieces in order. Examine it to see what's working and what's not working. Carefully put it back together. Trust it to run better.

It worked for washing machines.

It works for life. If your life isn't quite working out well, do the above steps. Then, trust what you've done to get it in order.

I miss Dad. It's because of the sacrifices made by this hard-working man that I am who I am today. He wasn't the kind to gush and tell me I did a good job, but he would certainly tell everyone else how proud he was of me.

It's okay. He brought me ice cream; and it works the same way.

Mom and Dad started me on the genealogy path, for joining the Church taught them the value of talking to those who were still alive to tell their stories. I went with them everywhere, for my spelling and my handwriting was a bit better than theirs. While my friends were at the beach, I was in a graveyard somewhere.

I am grateful for both of my good, good parents. And, I can hardly wait for their embrace...

2019 - Gratitude Month #1 - My Mom

Gratitude month #1

It's November. And, it's when I do my daily gratitude posts.

I know it's probably cheesy, and it may be something you just want to scroll on past. But for me, it gives me cause to stop and reflect on what I do have to be thankful for.

And, as in the past I begin the month with gratitude for my mom; Ida Stevens Clemens.

Mom was born 106 years ago today in the back hills of eastern Kentucky. She was the oldest in a large family, and was the only girl. There was a baby sister who died at age three from being "liver growed" (ask me), but Mom held her own with all of her brothers.

She survived the 1918 flu epidemic that took several of her brothers and many of her cousins. Both she and her mom were stricken, but made it through. She recalled leaning up on one elbow to look out the window, only to see row after row of coffins with no one well enough to bury them. She kept a snippet of a journal recalling that terrible time, which I transcribed and sent in to either the History Channel or PBS. (I forget.)

She married my Dad in 1932, who was the middle child in a large family. I asked her what it was like getting married and living in the Great Depression. She said they didn't even know one was going on. They were poor.

Mom, Dad, and my three sisters were living in West Virginia when two missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints knocked on their door. Mom listened to what they had to say, and knew they were offering her much more than what had been in her life. Being a strong woman in 1948, and against the wishes of her husband, Mom and my three sisters were baptized.

I am amazed. She was a "don't mess with me" type of person, and when I came along several years later, I grew up with that same attitude. Weakness was not in her nature, nor my sisters', and certainly not in me.

Mom passed away in 1984, just a few months after her last grandchild was born. Sometimes I am jealous of my sisters, who had her more years than I did. When she died, I was only 29.

I miss her so much, for not a day goes by that I can't think of what she would have done, or what she would have said, or would she just have said nothing at all, and give you "the look".

We all know "the look". If I was naughty at church and happened to see her at the end of the hall, I knew that shortly she would be marching down that hall, her arms pumping and smoke coming from her nostrils. Don't even bother trying to outrun her. She had nine brothers.

I had the Mom that was meant for me to have. And for that, I am grateful.

And, I can hardly wait to see her again...

PS...I constantly get comments about how much I look and act like her. And best of all, think like her. The double photo below is her on the left, and me on the right holding one of our preemie grandsons. When I first saw the one of me, I was trying to recall where Mom was when it was taken. It wasn't her. It was me!

Orphaned for 35 years

I don't know how I've lived 35 years without her.

Mom died on this date in 1984 when I had four young children, and could have used her advice and influence through the years.

She had her first heart attack when she was the age that I am now, and seven years later, after years of heart attacks and strokes, she took her last breath.

Mom was the oldest of a huge family, all boys! Diabetes and cardiovascular disease ran rampant in the family, so she and her youngest brother were the only ones to make it well into adulthood. She always told me you didn't have to be stronger than the boys; just louder.

She was born and raised in the hills of eastern Kentucky, where she met and married my dad. They had two children before moving to West Virginia and having one more. They were all girls.

Mom did the best she could do with what she had. Dad worked in the coal mines, and was the only one in that coal camp to be drafted into World War II; he was sent to Pearl Harbor.

While he was gone, mom became extremely ill with a goiter that wrapped itself around her blood vessels. Back in Kentucky, her father could sense something was wrong, and drove to see how Ida and the girls were doing. He was alarmed at mom's condition, and brought her back to his house, dropped off my sisters, and drove straight to Columbus, where they saved her life. It made for an early release for my dad. (Thanks to Randy W Whited obtaining a copy of dad's Navy file, I learned more about the situation than my sisters did, for they were all young.)

Mom came roaring back with strength, and a few years later when LDS Missionaries knocked on her door, she listened. And, she listened some more. And, some more. In 1948, when many women didn't have the say so that is found today, and against the wishes of my dad, Mom and my three sisters were baptized. (Dad was later baptized, and was Bishop of our local congregation when I was baptized.)

I came along when my parents were practically empty-nesters. She was of menopausal age, but felt something was "off". A doctor visit enlightened her when they told her she had "Cupid's Tumor". All she heard was "tumor", and was ready to faint. When she learned what it really meant, she was truly ready to faint.

I know it probably wasn't easy to secure a crib, rubber pants, and childproof the house, but she did. And I came along, being raised pretty much as an only child by people who were the ages of my friends' grandparents.

She had perfect aim. My sisters reminded me of my dad pulling a fork out of his hip after he had made a smart-aleck remark to my mom in another room. She flicked that fork, and made her statement without ever opening her mouth.

She taught me how to shoot. On one of our many trips to Kentucky, she took me out behind the tobacco barn and set up all kinds of targets. She was hard to satisfy, but I finally passed "her" test.

She took me through the woods on several occasions and taught me about everything I could survive on if I ever became lost. Or, poor.

But, due to her age, her blood pressure, and her heart, she wasn't able to be there to help me when I brought home our babies. One of the hardest days of my life was when Peter was just a few days old, and she told me she had called my dad. He would be coming to pick her up in a couple of hours.

"But, mom!!!! What in the world am I going to do? I've never been around babies. I was the baby!"

She told me I would be fine, and the best thing for her to do would be to let me discover that.

I cried.

Even at the age I am now, I could use her wisdom, and her "pull up your britches" moxie. I remember the times when I would whine about something. She wouldn't lecture me. She just looked at me with one eyebrow raised.

And, I hushed up.

So, she's gone. I miss her more than I can describe. She was born in the day of kerosene lamps, yet lived to see the moon landing.

Because of her, knowledge was instilled in me that I will see her again. She will not be the older woman who raised me, and who became sick. She will be in her prime.

I can't wait.

So, I remember her and honor her today, waiting for the day I can call out, "Mom!", and go running to her, and to Dad, and to Peter.

Ida Stevens Clemens

1 Nov 1913 - 14 Sep 1984

This is What I Have Been Waiting For!

I have been given a wonderful gift!

This past Saturday, I was a presenter at a Family History Day at Cleveland Public Library.

My genealogy colleague and friend, Sunny Jane Morton also happened to be speaking, and pulled me aside to show me something.

I was gobsmacked!

Sunny had been updating me on a book that she was co-authoring with Harold A. Henderson, and told me it would be released this summer.

And, it is a book that is definitely needed in the genealogy community!

That's right!

It's a book on finding your family's history using Church Records.

Now, why would this be so needed, especially when current polls point to a downward turn in religion?

Because, our families relied on churches to anchor them and their families, and to turn to for comfort when times became bad for them.

I have taught a Church Records course with the Rev. David McDonald at GRIP, and I wish there had been something like this to help me as I put together my presentations. There have been so many divisions and break-offs from core religions that it can be difficult to trace what you may need back to its original beginnings.

This book can help you do that.

It covers the major American religions, and what you may expect to find as you search their records. To quote from Chapter 1, "What's In Church Records?", just look at what you may find when you delve into denominational records?

• Births
• Relative's names
• National origin or ethnicity
• Baptisms
• Confirmations
• Marriages
• Memberships and migrations
• Deaths, funerals, and burials

And, these are just snippets of what you will find throughout the book.

This is a one-stop place for researching all of these religious denominations that would have you going from place to place on the internet.

I commend Sunny and Harold for writing this book. And, I am really grateful for the advance copy Sunny presented to me as a surprise. I had classes ahead of me to teach that day, and the only thing I wanted to do was go into a corner and peruse this book.

This book belongs in any serious researcher's toolkit, and will be kept within arm's reach at my own desk.

If you would like to order this book, which was released yesterday, here is the link: https://library.genealogical.com/printpurchase/3Rg6l
AND
It's on Amazon, too!
https://www.amazon.com/Find-Family-History-Church-Records/dp/0806320958/ref=sr_1_1?crid=2RS66RPI64S4Q&keywords=how+to+find+your+family+history+in+u.s.+church+records&qid=1562113467&s=gateway&sprefix=how+to+find+your+family+history+in+u%2Caps%2C162&sr=8-1

A New Chapter in My Life

There have been a few people who have figured out why I am in Salt Lake City for two weeks.

I am now part of the Ancestry ProGenealogists team!

This decision did not come easy. After one of my presentations at #RootsTechfour years ago, I was approached by one of the founders, who gave me his card, telling me to contact him if I ever wanted work.

But, it would have meant moving to Utah.

So, time kept moving forward. I saw on their FB page they were looking for specialists in southern research. I clicked, filled out a couple of lines, decided no, and backed out of it.

Then, I received an email. Then, a phone call.

After about 2 1/2 months, I decided this would be a very good thing. And, I said yes. And, it's all because I can do it remotely from Ohio.

My first day was Monday at the headquarters in Lehi. That whole area is undergoing tremendous technology growth. It is lovingly called "The Silicon Slopes".

The moment I walked in, I was greeted by people calling out "Hello, Peggy!" How in the world did they know me. Even the man grilling chicken in the cafeteria knew me.

Today, my training was in SLC, and it continued to be wonderful and thorough. Again, people were calling out their greetings to me like they knew me. I met many friends I hadn''t seen in awhile, and some I only knew from FB.

And, Mr. Kerry has totally supported me in every move I have made. He made it clear this was my decision to make, and that no matter what I decided, he was behind me all the way.

Now, will I still continue to do presentations at conferences and teach at institutes? Yes. I will still do webinars. It will come down some. For instance, I did 73 last year. This year I will do 53, and am not apt to accept any more for this current year...unless you beg. I don't think I have to worry about that.

The people here are wonderful, and they treat each other well. As a new employee, they have made me feel welcome and valued.

I happened to ask why in the world they would ever want someone like me at my age. He said, "You are exactly what we want. Many people today only know how to research using technology. But, you have been in the trenches of cemeteries, courthouses, libraries, and archives."

So, I am beginning a new chapter in my life. It took me awhile to make the decision, and I dragged my feet a bit.

But for now, it's the right thing.

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