My 2014

I've sat down to write this several times but walked off each time. It seems like a lot a work and perhaps it is emotionally.

Quite simply put, my 29th year was not what I expected. It was better, it was more, and I could have never imagined how I would grow.

The year rang in with an awful call center job, soul sucking. I put in an application at Origami Owl to work 2nd shift emails support. I didn't care, I just needed out. I was so confident I got the job after my interview I walked out of my other job. End of story, I got the job.

On March 15, my estranged sister had an emergency cesarian section to deliver her daughter. I started Origami Owl the next day. We began slowly texting over the months.

On April 25, I awoke to a panicked phone call from my cousin Cher. Uncle Tom had suddenly died. My Dad's baby brother. His funeral was on my birthday. His loss was deeply painful for all of us.

Rapid changes occurred and eventually we became full time (regular business hours) phone reps.

At the end of May, my mom and I, embarked on a trip of a lifetime. Sentimental as it was important. This sounds silly but we both likened it to a curse on our family, like the movie holes. Paris was amazing. Normandy was emotional. We cried for my grandfather, Uncle Steve, ourselves, our cousins, everyone that was robbed of knowing Nick but most importantly Nick that didn't get to live a full life. I remember placing my hand on his grave and whispering, "I'm so sorry this happened to you". I left Normandy with an inner peace.

Upon return I did confront the solider that shot Nick, he was a coward. I know and I tried - he has to live with that - not me.

When I returned to work I was asked to work back up to the front desk. Eventually I was asked to take over. From there I was asked to interview for the front desk position at our other site that came with progressively more duties. I learn something new everyday in my role and adore all my co-workers there. I've learned to be more social, outgoing - hell I wear dresses and skirts most days. I grew up and I became more professional. I'm proud of the person I'm becoming.

In July I got to meet my niece Audrey. She is perfect but tiny. It's very strange to see how things have come along with my sister. I don't think things are perfect and they won't ever be but they are good. I've grown and tried really hard to let things go because I want my niece to know her silly Aunt Sarah. She's a small, amazing, beautiful little girl - my cupcake.

I was able to mend some friendship by just letting go. My Aunt gave me the best advice " water over the dam" let it go. Do not spend time  dwelling or being angry instead of living the life you could be living.

Next year is my 30th year. I hope to visit my cousin Cher and go to Vegas for my 30th birthday. And of course, spend more time with my cupcake:)

Yearbook Fun!

I found some fun photos and information on my grandfather last night:

1943

1948

WWII 

1942

Ukrainian Crazy

My Great-Grandmother, Eva, is a bit of mystery. Not even a photo of her exists.

The only story I know about her, from Aunt Arlene, is that she had a temper  - and she was nuts.

She would get so upset she would smack her kids around with skillets and the only thing that would calm her down was vanilla ice cream. Aunt Arlene recalled several late nights of running out for ice cream (along with Uncle Steve whom she was dating at the time) so she'd stop beating the kids.

Marge

I didn't know my maternal Grandmother but despite dying suddenly at age 53, she lived a colorful life.

She was born Margaret Mary on April 11, 1922 in Cleveland, Ohio. The circumstances of her early years can be found in previous blogs (See Tag: Evans).

Her friends and family called her Marge. She went to South High School and was quite popular. During a game in which her school played Holy Name, my grandfather asked her out. She had been asked out by a suitor from her home team and eventually declared she'd go with whomever's team won. My grandfather's team won.

In 1943 she enlisted in the Women's Army Auxiliary Corps. According to a cousin she did this by running away to Columbus, and was then stationed in Florida. She did this due to an affair with a married man gone wrong. After 3 months she was discharged due to a skin condition the Army was tired of attempting to treat despite the humid location aggravating it.

She married my grandfather and raised 4 kids.

On 4th of July weekend in 1975, she suddenly died to a ruptured cerebral aneurysm.

Thanksgiving

Gosh, when did life get so busy?

I wanted to write a VERY quick post for Thanksgiving.

Every year my Grandma Miles brought the same thing to dinner, nobody liked it. Nobody wanted to eat it. She would even put it on your plate.

Rutabaga's .... gross!

DNA

I wanted to share some of my results between myself, my mother, and my father's first cousin (my first cousin 1x removed).

Presidential Memorial Certificates

I learned about this service this past week. Thought I'd pass it along.

Still hunting for the death certificate for my Grandma Marge but I've mailed in requests for the others.

The link is pretty self-explanatory.

Aunt Sarah

The best part of having a legacy name is knowing the face that goes with the name.

Meet Sarah Jones Grant. My Great-Great-Grandmother that I was named for.

A hidden family tree...

A few months ago, my Uncle Tom suddenly passed away. Taking care of his affairs has been, mostly, handled by my cousin.

My cousin is slowly going through his things, including 300 some odd book pages when he came across this gem.

I have a lot more work to do but it's more than I've ever known about the family. My Dad said it was drawn up by he thinks (Herbert) a relative that visited in 1976 from Germany. It was made at my Grandparents home likely with his siblings, Uncle, and cousins. The relatives should all have copies but this is the first time any of us have seen it!

I'm so excited!

May the wind always be at your back ...

Link Roundup

A few (or a lot!) of links to round up this week:

Uncle Nick:

Cleveland Plain Dealer
Find a Grave
American Battle Monuments Commission
ABMC Facebook Post
Omaha Beach Memorial
Les fleurs de la Memoire
505th RCT Page
Special Forces ROH
Cleveland Veterans Memorial
AMBC: We Remember
ABMC: Mom visits Uncle Nick's Grave

E-Bay Round Up:

Isaac Evans (my great-grandfather) - Cleveland Press , Milking a Cow

Dorothy : God's Gift

I'm doing pretty good at this challenge and I'm only a bit behind. I've been putting off writing this one. Mostly, I have a lot to say - or I don't know what to say. How do you begin to write about a woman you greatly misunderstood in life but came to understand in death?

Dorothy is a Greek name and it means God's Gift. Click your heels? No, no - she was my grandmother.

Grandma was born in June 1917 and had an older brother, Bob. Her father was HJ and her mother Isabel. During the 1929 crash the family continued to do well due to HJ's business skills but do not mistake that she was very much a child of the depression.

They went to Europe often. Grandma had a run in with the Gestapo. My father says it didn't happen, my Aunt Linda says it did.

After she died I was able to read her diary. She received a diamond ring for her HS graduation. She graduated Ohio Wesleyan. Her mother died during her college years. She married my grandfather after college and they settled in her native Cleveland Heights. Grandma was a Librarian and kept the schools plants. She carted them home each school break to care for them.

As a child, I thought she was a hoarder. It was her depression upbringing coming into view. Bread bags were lunch bags, stocking held onions, etc.

Grandma loved arts : Ballet, Orchestra, Opera, Museums, etc. She adored the Nutcracker, something that makes me miss her more around Christmas.

She hated pictures, I'm assuming because she literally buried every member of her family (and in-laws) over her life. All she had left was the family she created - children and grandchildren.

We all miss her, I wish I would have known her better but she died a few days after my 14th birthday in 1999.

Dorothy, Isabel, and HJ.

Aunt Edith

I have a love/hate relationship with the next relative I want to share a bit about.

Edith Evans was the older sister of my maternal grandmother. She married her husband, James Sullivan, at age 16. Her daughters were Anna Mae & Lois.

When Edith’s mother, Mary died, my grandmother was 12 years old and lacked any other female figures. Her father and brothers did their best to raise her.

Growing up, I was told Edith was “cruel”, “nasty”, “unkind”, and “not just to your grandmother Marge but to her own children, poor Anna Mae “. It remains unknown to me if she was physically, mentally, emotionally, or all of the above abusive towards the girls. 

Edith died in 1962 following a stroke she suffered some time prior.

They don't throw things away.

I received a neat but also humorous email from my Dad the other day ..... take it away Dad!

I found this interesting. In the wedding photo, my folks are reading a Western Union Telegram. In times past these were used for the most important communications. In the second picture is what I believe the actual telegram. Note the similarities. This was from Sam Mora & his wife Marion from a cabin? in far off Canada. Sam & Marion are buried several graves down from Henry & Isabel at Lakeview. Some things never get thrown away in this family.

John T.

Alliance City Cemetery.

Born in Wales in 1833.

Cousin Skinner

Skinner aka Patrick Joseph Logan was my Great-Great-Uncle.

I don't know much about him except he came over with my Great-Grandmother, Mary Logan Evans, from Ireland when they were small.

I'm not sure why he was called Skinner or why we all call him cousin instead of uncle.

d#: 0208702
Name: Logan, Patrick J. (Skinner)
Date: Jan 13 1949
Source: Source unknown;  Cleveland Necrology File, Reel #050.
Notes: Logan, Patrick J. (Skinner), beloved husband of Emma (nee Godenschwager); father of Mrs. Farrell Finnerty (Bertha), James, Doris; brother of Catherine Parderski, Agnes Herbison, and grandfather; at his late residence, 9309 Bancroft Ave. Friends received at James P. Mullancy Funeral Home, 9811 Miles Ave. Funeral Friday, Jan. 14. Holy Name Church, 9:30 a. m.

Lois Grant Mora

Lois was my grandmother's aunt.

Technically, she was born Hannah Lois Grant but hated her birth name. My grandmother, was given her middle name in her honor, Lois.

Lois was born on June 12, 1890 in Troy, NY. She was the eldest of three.

In 1913 she married George Mora. They never had any children and she died on September 3, 1958 in Lake, Ohio. She was interred at Lake View Cemetery in Cleveland.

Harriet

This is going to be one short post.

Harriet P William born circa 1815 in MA.

She marries Abraham Miles in December 1835 in Cleveland.

They appear on and off in the census for the Euclid area.

Harriet dies May 9, 1892 in Cleveland. Her body was sent to Independence Township Vault by a municipal Cleveland Cemetery.

That's it. I know nothing more. Harriet is a true enigma.

The Library Cleaner

My mother's grandfather was Issac Evans. Isaac was a twin and the youngest of many born to Welsh immigrants in Cleveland. His parents William & Christianna immigrated from Wales. 

Isaac worked as a fireman, labor jobs, and most notably - a library custodian at the Miles Park Branch.

Isaac suffered memory lapses in his later years and not much is known about his family. He died in 1945 and is buried with his wife, Mary, in Calvary Cemetery. 

The Cheese Spread

I'm going to divert this weeks blog from Isaac Evans to a 4 legged friend. Pets play an integral part of our lives. In my mother's family, we are known as the "animal Polachek's".

My mother's eldest sister Linda was born with a physical disability. She has never let it stop her; however, she has limitations. Growing up she began learning about animals, caring for them, etc. Unfortunately, I'm not able to find the exact article but her budding animal career is mentioned in the papers. One recalls the "strange incidents at the Frank Polachek household" namely when Stash the armadillo smashed all the bleach bottles in the middle of the winter. Or the time tree frogs jumped all over my grandmother. I could go on and on with family stories that involve animals. Birds, herps, exotics, they had them all.


Growing up, we had two cats as my father did not like dogs. We had a rotweiler for awhile but that didn't work out. Tiger was adopted from the APL. Mr. J was found wandering the tracks in Cleveland while my father was on patrol and as he put it , " it was a one way ride to the APL ". Mr. J was an orange tabby. Tiger was a tiger/white cat. Tiger got into moth balls and died when we were young. Mr. J was ride or die.

Mr. J was "drugged" by the vet and moved to AZ with us (in the car!!!). I remember his fat ass burrowing under hotel beds and us trying to coax him out. He loved sleeping in the pilot light of the furnace.

In 1995, Mr. J started missing the litter box and having problems. We took him to the vet. Kidney failure. We made the decision to put him down and we cried for days.

For my 13th birthday I really wanted an orange tabby like Mr. J. My Aunt Kathy had recently found an abandoned litter, no mother in sight, near deaconess hospital in Cleveland. One cat was a skinny runt they named little boy. Little boy was neutered and declared healthy. I didn't know it yet but he was bound for Phoenix.

Fighting the USDA weather restrictions on live shipments of animals, he was flown from Cleveland to Atlanta and finally to Phoenix around my birthday. He was so calm that he didn't require anesthesia or drugs of any sort.

I had no idea he was being flown in. We got a call and mom said we had to go to Terminal 2 Cargo Hold. There we found a scared orange tabby in a big red box. It was Crackers.

From there, he was mine. We lived in Arizona and travelled to California, Oregon, and Washington. He rode shot gun in my car.

I'd like to keep my other memories private, something I can hold on to.

Thank you for being my friend Crackers but most importantly - thank you for being my family.