Another Mystery Solved

About a week ago I mentioned that I was trying to learn the origin of the names of two towns. One was Laboratory, Pennsylvania, and the other was Forks of Ivy, North Carolina.

A basic search of the Internet told me that Laboratory, PA was originally known as Pancake, PA because a man named George Pancake ran a tavern there. I guessed that the name had to be changed in order to get a Post Office; at the time, Pennsylvania had two towns named Pancake.

I sent a request for information to the Washington County Historical Society in Pennsylvania. Here is the response sent me by Janet Wareham.

Earle Forrest wrote about this area in his 1926 History of Washington County, Pennsylvania in the chapter on South Strabane Township.  He discusses first George Pancake, then Jonathan Martin and adds this paragraph:

“About thirty years ago the late Dr. Byron Clark, who resided near the end of East Maiden Street, Washington, established a chemical laboratory for the manufacture of patent medicine, which he sold throughout the country.  He had a post office established and named the place Laboratory, by which it is still known, although the original name of Pancake still sticks.”

The only part I had right was that the U.S. Post Office was involved.

Now, let’s see if we can solve the mystery of Forks of Ivy. Maybe a member of the Forks of Ivy Baptist Church can help us.

A Little Touch-up

In yesterday’s post, I painted my big brother, Lew, (as opposed to my other brother, Lew) as a man with a dedication to perfection and a temper to go along with that disposition.

Like most of us humans, both of the twins had multifaceted personalities. Bill’s idiosyncrasies were more difficult to pin-point due to his predominantly easy-going nature. However, Lew was more of a man of extremes. Actually, in Lew’s case, I should make that present tense… he still exhibits some of those old tendencies from time to time.

Lew, the man who got so angry with himself that he threw a bowling ball out of a window on the fifth floor of a building, was the same man who annually rented an Easter Bunny costume and bought a case of eggs.

Dressed in that costume and sweating profusely, he’d sit in the window of Vrabel’s Dairy Store and dye those eggs. Parents would bring their children to see the Easter Bunny getting ready to make his rounds.

In the evening, Lew would have someone drive him to each of the area hospitals so he could pass out candy and eggs to children who were spending Easter in the hospital.

I was his driver on a few occasions. When nurses asked me who was in the costume, my answer was, “If I told you that, I’d be the first person to be killed by an Easter Bunny.”

The man has a heart of gold. But he also loves to tease.

When I was in high school and he was not yet married, he’d wake me for school as he was leaving for work. However, there were times that I’d come out of the bathroom, all ready for school, and find him lying in his bed laughing. When I checked the clock, I’d see that it was shortly past midnight. Lew had just come home from whatever he was doing that evening and was playing with me.

Of course, I’d return the favor when he let me use his car. I’d spend an evening cruising with my friends and return the car with an empty gas tank.

Soon, he learned to loan me his car and his gas credit card. He’d often give me a few dollars for spending money if he knew I had a date.

One more story before I start thinking about tomorrow’s post.

We were rebuilding the porch on my sister’s home in Greentree. Gert’s husband, Mac (real name A.J. Cronin), was there, as were his sons, Terry and Keith, and Lew and I.

At one point Gert asked if we’d like lunch. She was offering bologna sandwiches. Lew said he’d like one with yellow mustard… but he wanted the mustard on the meat – not the bread.

Unless Gert gave him multiple slices of meat (which she wasn’t about to do) there was no way to tell where she put the mustard. Naturally, when he got the sandwich, he complained that she had done it wrong.

Like I said, the man loves to tease… even his big sister.

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On a somewhat related note…

When I was in college at Edinboro, I received a letter from Gert. The return address stated it was from A.J. Cronin. My roommate, Roger Frazier – an English major, had picked up the mail and was all excited that I was receiving mail from A.J. Cronin.

When I said simply that it was my brother-in-law, he flipped out. To be honest, I’d never heard of the A.J. Cronin he was referring to. Needless to say, Roger was grossly disappointed when he learned the truth.

Me and My Siblings – Part I-A

A while back I began writing about my oldest brothers. To review what I’ve written so far, click here.

Our last family portrait

I left off at a point where both Bill and Lew (Seward and Somers to family members) had been discharged from the Navy and had moved back in with our parents. We’ll pick up the story from there.

By 1953, both of the twins were home. They each had a car and a job. Lew had an office job with American Standard and Bill was driving a local delivery truck for Hammel’s Express. I don’t recall the exact amount, but they each paid our parents for room and board.

Lew didn’t last long with American Standard; he hated being cooped up in an office. He took a job as a truck driver for Fort Pitt Plumbing Supply. Years later, when they went out of business, he went to work for a company called Dilner that operated a facility for loading and unloading river barges. Somehow during that employment he came into contact with asbestos and now suffers from a lung disease caused by asbestos.

It wasn’t long before they each took jobs as bartenders in the evenings to supplement their incomes. After all, it cost money to go to all the sporting events they attended with their friends. They both had season tickets to the University of Pittsburgh football games and often went to away games. In fact, one year they took me along to a game in Syracuse, New York.

They also went to Pittsburgh Steelers games, Hornets hockey games at the Duquesne Gardens, as well as Pitt and Duquesne basketball games. Of course, they went to many Pirate games too.

In addition to watching sports, they took part in bowling leagues and played football and softball. My guess is that they also played more than their share of basketball and golf.

Sometimes it seemed that the sports in their lives outweighed their desire to spend time with the ladies. However, they did manage to go out on dates from time to time. That’s when I played the part of a valet for them.

I often shined their shoes for special events and made many trips to Swartz’s cleaners to have their dress clothes cleaned and pressed. I don’t recall if Mr. Swartz did shirts or not because, for whatever reason, the twins opted to have their dress shirts laundered by Brandi Cleaners – a company that picked up and delivered to our house.

Both of my brothers liked having nice clean cars to drive. They often paid me and our other brother (the other Lew) to wash those vehicles. If memory serves me, while they both liked newer cars, Bill was the more conservative. He began with a 1953 Pontiac that he traded in for a 1956 Pontiac. That car gave way to a 1959 Pontiac which was eventually replaced by a 1955 Ford. (I’ll explain that move shortly.)

In the meantime, his twin went from a 1953 Plymouth to a 1955 Buick. The Buick was replaced by a 1958 Oldsmobile that was quickly replaced by a 1959 Cadillac. The Caddy was a real shock to my parents’ systems. At $6,500, it cost three hundred dollars more than our house.

Lew soon tired of the Cadillac and traded it in for a 1960 Buick convertible. I really liked that car because I was about to turn sixteen and had high hopes of one day driving it. However, the combined costs of all the new cars caught up with Lew. By the time I got my driver’s license, he was driving a 1955 Chevy.

Eventually Lew got his finances in order and bought a new 1962 Chevy. He’s had so many cars since then that I couldn’t begin to keep track. The major factor is that he learned his lesson and only drives what he can afford to drive.

In 1959, Bill got engaged to Rose Macino. Bill was a thirty-two year old bachelor and Rose was a nineteen year old girl from a large Italian family that owned a corner grocery in the Elliot section of Pittsburgh.

While some fathers of nineteen year old girls might’ve been upset with their daughters getting involved with older men, Mr. Macino was delighted. That’s because my brothers were well known in the area and had sparkling reputations. They were seen by most to be great ‘catches’.

Bill and Rose were married on Memorial Day of 1960. Bill liked the idea because he’d always be able to remember their anniversary. That’s before the government stepped in and changed the official date of Memorial Day. Thus, if you can remember when Memorial Day used to be, you’d know the date they tied the knot.

For Bill, the jump from paying mom and dad for room and board to paying rent and buying groceries for two came as a surprise. That’s why he sold the 1959 Pontiac and replaced it with an old Ford.

By 1961, Bill was the proud father of Lynne. Over the next several years, Rose would give birth to Amy, Billy, Richie, and Mark. Each of those children will tell you there was never a more loving – and forgiving – father.

In the meantime, Lew held out. It wasn’t until 1965 when he finally married. His bride was a widow by the name of Dorothy McConnell. Dot, as she was known, had Elizabeth (known to all as Snookie), Dee, Dick, and Patty.

This marriage made things rather interesting for me. Dick and I had graduated from high school together, and Patty – who I dated from time to time – was a year younger.

Because of my sisters, I already had three nephews and a niece close to my age; now I had nieces older than me! In fact, Snookie and Dee were already married and had children. I became an instant ‘great’ uncle!

Both of the twins settled into married life and were fantastic fathers – whether their children were their own or not. They continued to be great sports fans, but had to give up the road games and many of the home games. They continued to bowl and golf, but long ago gave up football and softball.

We lost Bill to cancer a few years back, but Lew is still going strong.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t say something about their differing personalities… and the fact that I often felt as though I had three fathers.

Bill was the more laid back of the two. While he always encouraged me and his own children to do our best, he readily accepted whatever effort we made and praised us for our successes.

Lew, on the other hand, was the perfectionist. He was probably harder on himself than he was on others, but sometimes that was difficult to see.

I recall one time when the three of us (the other Lew was in the Army at the time) were building a new back porch for our parents. We were at the point of putting down the flooring. I was measuring, Bill was cutting, and Lew was nailing.

If a board was a thirty-second of an inch off, he’d throw it back at us. If it was too long, he wanted more cut off. If it was too short, he wanted it discarded.

The porch was about twenty feet long across the back of the house and came out about ten feet. We were laying the boards perpendicular to the house and at the rate we were going, the scrap heap was bigger than the porch. We would soon run out of lumber and have less than half the floor laid.

Then Lew received a phone call. When he went in to answer the phone, I ran up on to the porch with a stack of the scrap. I began nailing the boards while Bill handed more up. By the time Lew got off the phone and came back out, I had two thirds of the flooring down.

He took one look at the jagged edge, yelled at me for turning it into a hillbilly dump, and stormed out of the house and drove away.

While he was gone, Bill and I completed the flooring. I then took the electric saw and, starting at one end, cut the boards to make them all the same length.

The subject was never again brought up for discussion.

Lew’s temper and need to be perfect cost him a few golf clubs… that were either thrown into lakes or bent around trees. However, the event that caused him to rethink his attitude and led to his mellowing occurred at Alvin’s Southside Bowling Alley.

Alvin’s had five floors with about six alleys on each floor. One evening, Lew was bowling on the fourth or fifth floor and having a terrible night. Please note that ‘terrible’ is a relative term. He may have been averaging over two hundred for the three game set; but if he thought he should be averaging ten pins higher, to him, it was terrible.

When his anger got the best of him, he walked over to an open window and threw his blowing ball into the alley below. Fortunately, there were no pedestrians in that alley.

Taking driving lessons from the two of them was a “good cop, bad cop” experience. Bill would concentrate on what I was doing right and Lew would do the opposite.

To a great extent, I believe my personality was shaped more by my brothers than my parents. I’m sure my children will tell you that at times I could be compared to each of their uncles.

There is so much more I could say about Bill and Lew, but I’ve already gone my self-imposed limit for words. I’m sure my writings will continue to reflect on them as well as my parents, sisters, and other brother.

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I never gave it any thought until now that the twins were always referred to as Bill and Lew or Seward and Somers. Bill (Seward) was the oldest… by a few minutes, so I guess that’s why we never said Lew and Bill or Somers and Seward. I’ll have to ask Lew if that ever bothered him.

New Jersey Aunts & Uncle

The Crowley residence

This house on Shore Road in Somers Point, New Jersey, was the home of my two ’spinster’ aunts – Mary and Josie Crowley. It would appear that when Uncle Lewis B. Leeds married Nellie Crowley, it was a package deal.

The Crowley girls had been born and raised in Pittsburgh and Uncle Lewis met Nellie sometime after he and dad rode double on a motorcycle from South Jersey to Pittsburgh. That trip to find employment occurred in 1910.

I’m not sure of the time frame, but at some point Uncle Lewis and the girls moved to Florida. A few years later, they moved to South Jersey. That’s where they were living when they each eventually passed on.

Uncle Lewis' home in Linwood

The entire arrangement is one I never thought about until the last few years as I learned various details from my cousin, Ruth Morris.

According to family rumors, Aunt Nellie refused to allow Uncle Lewis to consummate their marriage. In the meantime, Aunt Josie may have had at least one secret affair that was consummated.

My sister, Gert, somehow found herself as the executor of Aunt Josie’s will. Josie was the last of the group to pass away. During the process, Gert learned that Josie had left everything (which turned out to be a negative number) to some woman who could only be contacted through a church. Unfortunately, the woman could not be located, but it is surmised that the lady in question might have been Josie’s daughter – born out of wedlock and given up for adoption. We’ll never know the whole truth behind that one.

In the meantime, when we would visit Mary and Josie in the 1950s, there was a blind man living with them – a Mr. Biddings. Again, the rumors insisted that Mr. Biddings was Josie’s live-in lover. Another thing we’ll never know for sure.

According to Ruth, Uncle Lewis and the ladies also had a habit of checking out of hotels without bothering to pay the bills.

That’s one of those rumors that, on the surface, doesn’t make sense. I’m not sure what Uncle Lewis did for a living prior to becoming a politician, but he eventually became a Freeholder in Atlantic County. I, being a little boy at the time, bragged to my friends that he was a freeloader. I might have been right!

I’ve been told that a freeholder in New Jersey is the equivalent of a county commissioner in other states. I have no idea how much he was paid in that capacity, but I do remember he drove a big Cadillac.

Aunt Josie worked at a mental hospital in Pleasantville. She called it the Looney Bin. Uncle Lewis used his political clout to get her the job. Considering some of her idiosyncrasies, she may have made a good resident of her place of employment.

For one thing, Josie refused to drive faster than thirty-five miles per hour. I can recall riding with her on the Garden State Parkway. I was greatly relieved that we only traveled a short distance on that superhighway.

When Uncle Lewis died, Josie inherited the Cadillac as she was the only sister who drove. She immediately had her garage remodeled. The finished product had doors on either end so she would never have to back in or out.

Aunt Mary was the chief cook and bottle washer in the family. I should note that when Uncle Lewis died, Aunt Nellie sold her home and moved in with her sisters.

Eventually, Aunt Josie was the only one left.

One time I had a business trip to Philadelphia. I decided to take my middle son, Kenn, and planned a side-trip to Atlantic City. Kenn was around twelve years old at the time. We dropped in on Aunt Josie and both Kenn and I soon realized what we were dealing with.

Aunt Josie repeatedly asked me how Jimmie was doing and I repeatedly explained that I was Jimmie. The house was a total disaster and Josie kept offering us something to eat. She finally went into the kitchen and invited us to follow. She pulled out an apple pie that was covered with mold and offered us each a slice.

It was then I decided the visit had lasted long enough. I stretched the truth a bit and explained that we had a dinner reservation in Atlantic City and really had to be going. Kenn was pleased that we had escaped without being fed.

About a month later, Gert was in the area and stopped in to see Josie. To Gert’s surprise, Josie was royally angry at me. After Kenn and I left, she had prepared a meal for us… and we never returned to eat it!

There is one more memory I have of Aunt Josie. When Aunt Mary died, Josie had her body shipped back to Pittsburgh for burial. I went to the funeral and rode in the limo with Josie to the cemetery. They had a very nice memorial service in the chapel. When the service was over, Josie insisted on seeing her sister’s coffin lowered into the ground.

The undertakers and cemetery officials were not prepared for that and tried to talk her out of it. She was adamant… as were they. Fortunately, I bumped into another undertaker, Ray Brusco, whom I knew through the Lions Club. I explained the situation to him and he pulled some strings.

Later I learned that the main reason for Josie’s insistence is that she did not trust the undertakers. She was afraid they’d open the casket and steal things from Mary’s corpse.

Just think, I could get ornery and crotchety when I get old. Nah, that would never happen.

Me and My Siblings – Part I

My favorite niece named Debbie, who is currently living in England, has encouraged me to write about our family… mainly because her father – my brother – provides very little accurate information to his children.

I’m sure he’s hoping that someday I’ll forgive him for telling his eldest two daughters, Jackie and Debbie, how much I loved Jello. That’s how they greeted me on my first visit to their home in California. Because of my brother’s lying ways, I was forced to eat – not just one – but two bowls of the only food on this earth that I detest. Each girl had made a different flavor… just for me!

Thus, if those two girls, as well as their brother, Charles, and younger sister, Cathryn, ever hope to get the true story of our family, it will have to come from a more reliable source. In the meantime, I trust our older sister, Gertie, will read this and comment on any errors or omissions on my part.

At our last family reunion

I believe the above photo was taken in 2000. It was the one and only time I was able to say, “I’d like you to meet my brother Lew. This is my other brother, Lew. And this is my wife, Lu.”

This reunion was the first time in many years that all three of my brothers, our two sisters, and I were at the same place at the same time. After much discussion, we concluded that it had been more than thirty years since we were all together. Sad to say, it hasn’t happened since, and it never will again – at least not in this world. Our oldest brother, Bill, died of cancer in 2002.

I’m not sure the five of us remaining siblings were all able to attend Bill’s funeral. The ‘Old Lady’ of the family will correct me if I’m wrong.

Bill is on the far left in this photo. The other men are – from left to right – Douglas Lewis, myself, and Lewis Somers. The ladies from left to right are Wilda and Gertrude.

I entitled this post ‘Me and My Siblings – Part I’ because I hope to provide information – as I remember it – for all of my siblings… but not all at once.

For no good reason, I’ll start with the twins. The oldest boy in our family (born in 1928) was Bill. His full name is William Henry Seward Leeds, Jr. His birth was followed shortly by Lewis Somers Leeds. Their combined birth weight was over twenty pounds.

In 1945, at the age of seventeen, they dropped out of high school and joined the Navy. Dad had to sign papers to allow them to do it, and although I’m sure he struggled with the decision, he was proud to send them off to defend our country.

It should be noted that Dad had terrible eye sight that kept him out of the service during World War I. Dad was turned down by every branch of the military and even went to Canada to see if the Canadian Army could use him. (Quite a bit different view of Canada in regards to the U.S. military!)

Dad finally was accepted in the U.S. National Guard and lasted for nineteen days. That’s when they finally got around to giving him an eye test. He was immediately honorably discharged.

Prior to Bill and Lew joining the Navy, Wilda and Gertrude had already joined the Navy as Waves. Thus, when Lewis (Doug) and I were toddlers, our four older siblings had all left home.

Each of the twins became Sea-Bees – members of the Navy’s Construction Battalion. Before going any farther, it’s interesting to note that Lew failed his eye test during his pre-induction physical. His eye had been damaged when his brother Bill had hit him with a brick.

Lew asked if he could return the next day and try again. Granted permission, he sent Bill to take the test for him. Bill passed and they both became sailors!

After their first four year enlistment period ended, they both re-enlisted for another four years. Of course, by this time the war was over, but there was still a lot of reconstruction to do.

During that time, both of our sisters married and moved out permanently. So, aside from when one or both of the twins were home on leave, we had the house to ourselves.

Between the twins (I can’t remember who was stationed where), they were sent to Alaska, Cuba, French Morocco, Guam, and Haiti. Neither spent much time aboard a ship. Most of the time they were on land building something.

In 1947, Bill was on a ship for one of the few times in his Naval career. He was part of the detachment observing an atomic bomb test on the Bikini Atoll. If you’d like to read a letter he wrote based on that experience, go to Something Different – a post I added in July of 2008.

Lew (Somers) was in South Africa – as I recall – when he came down with Hepatitis. It was assumed he had caught the disease while he was stationed in Cuba. He was hospitalized somewhere “over there” until my parents enlisted the aid of our Congressman. It took a while, but Lew was finally transferred to a VA Hospital near Pittsburgh. He was honorably discharged in 1952. I remember that year well because Dad welcomed him home by giving him our 1949 Chevy, which he promptly traded in for a 1952 Plymouth.

He soon got a job with the American Standard corporation. I’m not sure exactly what he did for the plumbing outfit, but at one point he was transferred to New York City. It then became a daily exercise for mom, Lewis, and I to watch the Today Show and try to see him wave to the camera on his way to work.

In the meantime, Bill finished his second enlistment period and came home in 1953. Dad gave him money for a down payment and he purchased a 1953 Pontiac. Within a short time, Bill was driving a truck for Hamel’s Express. He stayed with them until his retirement.

There is a lot more to tell about my older brothers, but I’m running short on time today. So I’ll end this post with those all too familiar words:

To be continued…

The Writings of Others

The Weather’s hot, days burning eye
Doth make the earth in favor fry,
Dick on the Hay doth tumble Nell,
Whereby her Belly comes to swell.
The Dog star now we hot do find,
And some have Dog tricks in their mind.

That verse was written in 1714 by Daniel Leeds. I am a direct descendant of Daniel and the grandfather of another Daniel. Perhaps that is why I have such an interest in writing and humor. We’ll have to wait and see if the newest Daniel has the same interests.

In 1706 (and again in 1708) Daniel Leeds printed the following in his almanac:

Lo, here’s a Trade surpasseth all the rest;
No change annoys the Lawyers’ Interest:
His Tongue buys Land, builds Houses without Toil,
The Pen’s his Plough, the Parchment is his Soil.

Daniel published his first almanac in 1687 and continued the task for twenty-seven years. He often used lawyers as the brunt of his jokes.

It’s a pity that most Americans are familiar with Poor Richard’s Almanac and the sayings of Benjamin Franklin. Daniel Leeds was using maxims in his almanac forty years before Franklin’s Poor Richard was first published. For example, in 1710, “We think lawyers to be Wise, but they know us to be Fools.” In 1712 a Leeds jingle informs us that poor “Will Woodcock” is spending all his money on lawsuits.

He lost one case:

Another which he hoped to have try’d,
Is by Demurrer at present laid aside:
Nothing effected, only all his Money,
Is by the Lawyers swallowed down like Honey.

In 1714, Daniel’s sons Titan and Felix took over the publication. In 1726 Titan playfully accuses the lawyers of fomenting fights in the best bear-baiting tradition.

He wrote, “Lest Bear Defendant and Plaintiff Dog should make an end on’t,” the lawyers…

Do strive and toil with Writs of Error,
Reverse of Judgment and Demurrer;
To let ‘em breathe a while and then,
Cry Whoop! and set ‘em on again.
Until with Subtil Cobweb Cheats,
They’re catch’d in knoted Law like nets,
In which when once they are imbrangled,
The more they flip, the more they’re Tangled;
And while their Purses can Dispute,
There’s no end of th’ immortal Suit.

In his 1729 almanac, Titan Leeds wryly comments on the “Marriage State”:

In Marriage are two happy Days allow’d
A Wife in Wedding-Sheets and in a Shroud,
How can the Marriage State then be accurs’d,
Since the last Day’s as happy as the First?

In case my bride reads this, let me re-emphasize that these are the writings of others.

My Early Days

Original Art by Emma Fae Sloviksy

I’m not sure what Emma had in mind beyond that fact that she loves her muggaw (her pet name for Grandma Lu) simply because she does… love her.

I’ve recently made contact with some distant cousins. Frank Leeds III and his son, Oliver, and Barbarajean Leeds. After answering questions about my past, I feel very strongly that I need to pull a project off the back burner and get back to it. So far, I’ve written two or three chapters about our family history – beginning with Thomas Leeds who was born in England in 1620.

The next chapter will deal with William Leeds who was born sometime after 1670. A number of sources state that William sailed with Captain Kidd. At least one source claims that he was, in fact, Captain Kidd himself. Since Captain Kidd was captured and executed in 1701 and William died in 1739, little credence can be lent to the assertion that William Leeds was using the alias William Kidd – unless of course, someone else was hung in London.

I have yet to learn how William earned the money he bestowed upon the churches in Shrewsbury, New Jersey. Those who say it was ill-gotten gains insist he was offering the money as a tribute (penance) against his feelings of guilt. They may well be correct.

To hear the rest of the story, you’ll have to wait until the book is published.

Getting back to my background, I included Emma’s art work because I’m sure I did similar portraits for my parents when I was Emma’s age. So it reminds me of my early childhood.

I was born in 1944, the youngest child in a family with six children. In truth, we considered it seven, so as not to ignore our brother, Richard, who died at birth.

My oldest sibling, Wilda, was born in 1921. The next oldest, Gertie, was born in 1923. We believe Richard was born between the two girls, but we failed to ask our parents about it before they passed on.

Next came the twins who were born in 1928. The oldest, Seward, was named after Dad. His twin, Somers, was named after a childhood friend of my father.

Then came the dry spell. It wasn’t until 1942 that my brother Lewis was born. Shortly after his birth, the family moved to a new neighborhood. It wasn’t long before the gossips decided Lewis was the son of either Wilda, who was 20 at the time, or Gertie, who was 18.

In 1942, having a child out of wedlock was worse than having a scarlet letter branded on one’s face. So, in 1944, I was brought into the world to save my sisters’ reputations.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it!

By the way, if you recall, my three brothers were name Seward, Somers, and Lewis. Outside the family, they are known as Bill, Lew, and Doug. It’s a long story.

For whatever reason, my parents failed to send me to kindergarten. (That may explain a lot of things.) I began first grade at Scheafer School in the Crafton Heights section of Pittsburgh. My favorite subjects were finger painting and playing with the small box of blocks that we each had in our desks.

Our teacher was Miss Beggs, with whom my sister, Gertie, still maintains a friendship.

The memory that stands out in my mind is the day I found myself in a real dilemma. My parents had taught me to hold up one finger if I had to urinate and two fingers if I had a more urgent bathroom need. They failed to tell me what to do if my problem dealt with my stomach.

As I sat there trying to decide what to do, my stomach got tired of waiting. It was then I realized why our school so often smelled of vomit. Obviously, nobody told their children how to let the teacher know of stomach problems.

Second grade was taught by Miss Jacobs. Two significant events happened during the 1951-52 time frame. First, Tony Civello moved into the neighborhood. Tony became one of my best friends and, to my knowledge, became the most successful businessman among our high school classmates.

The second event came about on my brother Lewis’ tenth birthday. As the family was preparing for the celebration, my mother noticed my rash and called Dr. Crumb. Back in those days, doctors still made house-calls. He arrived within the hour and diagnosed me with Scarletina. I was told that it was a mild case of Scarlet Fever.

Scarlet Fever is highly contagious. That meant my brother got to kiss his birthday party good-bye. Perhaps that is why, years later, he told his young daughters that my favorite dessert is Jello. I had to eat two bowls of the stuff I absolutely hate… to avoid disappointing my nieces.

I missed a good bit of school because of my disease. Years later, one of my older brothers asked me the time. When I told him the big hand was on the seven and the little hand was on the nine, we came to realize I’d missed the part of second grade when children are taught how to tell time.

In truth, I didn’t need to learn how to tell time. I had my mother telling me it was time to get up, time to eat my breakfast, time to go to school, time to come in from playing, time to eat dinner, time to get a bath, and time to go to bed. Who needs a clock when someone else keeps you on schedule?

Speaking of time, it’s time for me to get busy with other things. I’ll continue this story at a later date. In the meantime, here’s another work of art by Emma.

Self Portrait by Emma Fae Slovisky

I may be making a mistake in guessing this is a self portrait. I know it isn’t a picture of me because my hair isn’t that long and you’d be hard pressed to see my ribs.

Future Generations

My youngest son, Matt, recently commented on his Facebook page that his sister’s kids are too cute for words.

I’d agree with that even if they weren’t my grandchildren. But Matt needs to expand his horizons. His brothers’ children fall into that same category. And I’m not at all prejudiced.

So, that takes care of nine of our grandchildren – Tyler, Rachel, Alexis, Maggie, Ellie, Ariana, Landon, Daniel, and Liam. But, again, with not a prejudiced bone in my body, I also have to attest to the cuteness of Emma, Dominic, and Anna.

My guess is that our grandchild who is scheduled to be born in a few months will be equally cute.

Now, beyond the cuteness, I can honestly say that each and every one of them is also delightful. Their parents might not always see it that way, but for some strange reason, children don’t usually sass their grandparents.

My bride and I get along fine with all the grandchildren. I’m sure the future of our land is in good hands.

How Times Have Changed

Family reunion in the fifties

This photo was taken in the back yard of my Uncle Lewis’ home in Linwood, New Jersey. The three couples are (from left to right) Seward and Cathryn Leeds, Lewis and Nellie Leeds, and Fred and Gertrude Ulmer.

Three of those people are also in the next photo.

Classmates in early 1900's

The second and fourth from the right (in the first row) are Seward and Gertrude Leeds. The first boy on the left in the second row is Lewis Leeds.

Thus, the photo of the three couples is a family reunion for three siblings.

My parents are the ones on the left – Seward and Cathryn Leeds. Dad’s name was ‘officially’ William Henry Seward Leeds, but everyone in the family called him Seward. Naturally, his co-workers called him Bill.

Dad was the youngest of the three siblings who survived to adulthood. He was born in 1891.

In 1910, he and his brother rode from Northfield, New Jersey to Pittsburgh (double on a motorcycle) in search of employment. They both succeeded in not only finding work, but in finding wives. Dad married Cathryn Mary O’Hare and Uncle Lewis married Nellie Crowley.

At some point, Uncle Lewis and his wife, along with two sisters-in-law moved to Florida and later back to New Jersey. Dad and mom remained in Pittsburgh, but I believe dad’s heart remained in south Jersey.

Aunt Gertrude moved to Philadelphia to find work shortly after she graduated from high school. She was the only one of the three to finish her formal education; the boys had to drop out of school and go to work to help support their widowed mother. Gertrude eventually met and married Fredrick Ulmer.

Uncle Fred and Aunt Gertrude became the parents of three children. The most famous of the three was Fredrick who was instrumental in a bombing raid on Tokyo and later became curator of the Philadelphia zoo. I wrote about his exploits sometime ago. Click on “A Tribute to an Unsung Hero” if you’re interested in learning more about him.

Unfortunately, I only got to know one of the three. Ruth Ulmer married Ed Morris around the same time as I entered this world. She, and most of my siblings and cousins are a good bit older than I; thus, when our family visited my aunts and uncles, my cousins were off raising their own families.

I finally got to meet Ruth about three or four years ago. She is a delightful woman and full of information about our family’s history. Her brother Fredrick died a number of years ago, and her brother Leeds, passed on a few weeks ago.

Uncle Lewis and Aunt Nellie were childless. That’s why I have two brothers named Lewis.

I apologize for rambling about my family, but one picture leads to another and one sentence tends to do likewise.

My original intent was to point out the clothing worn in that first picture. It was not at all unusual for adults of that time to dress up for events that seem trivial in today’s society. For instance, it was not unheard of for men and women to put on their Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes to ride a Greyhound bus to another city… or simply to take a shopping trip to the downtown department stores.

Airplane trips were a big deal back then and anyone in less then business suits or dresses would have been totally out of place.

On the day the group photo was taken, my parents were joining the others for a meal at a restaurant. Notice I did not say ‘fancy’ restaurants. There were very few of that variety back then. There were very few of any variety in those days. Most women were called ‘housewives’ and they stayed home and cooked for their families.

One fancy restaurant reasonably close to where my Uncle Lewis lived was the Smithville Inn in Galloway Township. The siblings and their spouses may have been headed there, but I have my doubts. That place might have seemed too expensive to my frugal parents.

In any case, about fifty years later, my wife and I, along with a group of nephews and neices went there for dinner. We wanted to celebrate our little family reunion by dining in the ‘Leeds Room’ which was named for Jeremiah Leeds… an ancestor who once owned most of what is now Atlantic City.

Our attire clearly demonstrates how times have changed.

From fine dining to casual

There are many who would point out that the clothes we were wearing when this photo was taken would be considered by many to be the Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes of the twenty-first century.

My, how times have changed!

The Truth about Family Trees

Exhibit Number 1:

The Priors and Vicars of St. Nicholas

This picture was taken at the St. Nicholas church in the village of Leeds, in Kent, England. Note that the city of Leeds is in Yorkshire… more than a hundred miles north of the village.

Although some genealogist state that our family’s roots are in the City of Leeds, I’m convinced we will someday be able to trace our line back to the village. For one thing, Daniel Leeds, who was writing an almanac years before Benjamin Franklin was born, said his father was a gentleman from Kent.

But that’s not why I placed the photo at the beginning of this post. It’s there to serve as a rebuttal for those people who insist they can trace their bloodline back to Adam and Eve.

Look closely at the names on the wall. The first person to be identified by more than his first name is Adam de Maydenstan, My guess is that he was a gentleman named Adam and he was born and raised in Maidstone. Admittedly, that’s nothing more than a guess, but prior to Adam – in 1285 – none of the men listed had a surname.

And that is why it’s impossible to trace a family’s roots much beyond the thirteenth century. The exception – there always has to be an exception – is found with royal bloodlines. Historians kept better records of Kings and Queens.

I believe our surname came from someone who was born in the village of Leeds. I can just picture old John, from Leeds – not to be confused with John, from Maidstone – stopping for a pint at the local pub. Had John been practicing the trade of Thomas – our oldest known ancestor who was born in Kent in 1620 – our surname might well have been Cooper. Thomas was a barrel maker and practiced the art of coopering. If you don’t think making a barrel is an art, try to make one yourself!

I’m sorry if this information burst someone’s bubble, but I believe myths are made to be busted.