Yearbook Fun!

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

1943

1948

WWII 

1942

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.

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.

Giraffe Lady

She was tall. Over 6ft. Size 11 shoes. She was Jessie of course, my great-aunt.

Jessie around 1912.

East Tech HS.

Aunt Jessie died about 6 months before I was born but it's possible for me to say that - I feel like I knew her. I've heard about her from everyone. 

When I was younger I was given some of her jewelry and we even have her hope chest in our house.

Aunt Jessie never married and I do not believe she ever worked. My father once described her to me like this, " Jessie tried. She tried really hard and really wanted people to like her but she just had kind of a bad way about her. ". Later I asked my mom about the "bad way" comment and was told Aunt Jessie , could be, quite nasty at times.

My cousin Cher talks about Aunt Jessie's back pack. As she didn't work, my grandfather likely supplied all of her funds, and she ALWAYS had a backpack full of gifts. 

L to R: (Back) Unknown Male, Dorothy Leisenheimer, Jessie Miles
(Front) Estelle Holan, Sterlie Abraham Miles, Sterlie Arthur Miles

Uncle Archie & Brownie

Archie Alexander Miles was my Great-Great Uncle. He was born on November 6, 1876 in Lynchburg, OH. He died on January 29, 1942.

Just this past year my Aunt Linda sent me a cool article about his death.

Faithful Dog Keeps Vigil as Master Dies

Cleveland Plain Dealer
January 30, 1942

Faithful unto death and still at her post even afterward. Brownie, a large brown mongrel dog, held police at bay while she stood guard over the body of her master last night.
Brownie had been the constant companion and guardian of her master, Archie Miles, 65 a cripple and when Miles died in his sleep some time yesterday morning the dog could not understand that her job of protecting her master was over.
Miles, a former teamster for the Excelsior Cartage Co. 1200 W 9th Street, who was crippled in an accident six years ago, lived alone above a blacksmith shop at 7212 Quincy Ave SE.
A grocery clerk who customarily brought Miles his supplies was unable to rouse him yesterday noting that smoke was not rising from the chimney, called the owner of the blacksmith shop, Frank W. Bauer 11332 Revere Avenue S.E.
Receiving no answer, Bauer called police, who gained entry despite Brownie’s protests. At the threshold of the bed room where her master lay dead in bed, the dog’s fiercely bared fangs forbade further approach.
Even when Miles’ sister, Mrs. Jennie Wheatley, 9524 Marah Avenue S.E. was called. Brownie refused to let anyone touch her master. Finally, Mrs. Wheatley managed to coax the dog into an adjoining room with food and shut the door.
Miles was the grandson of Abraham Miles, who settled on a farm at what is now Richmond Rd just north of Mayfield Rd. His maternal grandparents were Alexander and Jesse Hill who established a farm east of Green Road when Indians were still a familiar and sometimes fearsome sight to the settled pioneers.
For the last six years, since he had been injured, Miles who loved animals, had lived alone. Mrs. Wheatley said, where he could keep his pets without anyone objecting in the years. Miles kept pigeons and only a few days before his death he had bought a couple of injured birds into the kitchen to care for them.
“A home will be found for Brownie.” Mrs. Wheatley said today, “but the biggest problem facing us is what to do with a pet skunk. You don’t know anybody that wants one, do you?”.
The little black and white animal had been brought to Miles by friends who had found it injured in a trap. Through kindness, he had tamed it until it would follow him around and would permit him to fondle it like a pet tabby, but it still does not trust strangers.
Miles is survived by his son, Archie Jr. 13406 McCracken Rd, Garfield Heights and a daughter Leola, 22 who lives in Chicago. Also surviving him are another sister Mrs. A.M. Porter 2252 E 69th St and a brother. Sterlie A. Miles 8109 Force Ave, University Heights.

Brownie

The Recruiter at East Tech

Yesterday I learned that Congress designed May as Military Appreciation Month in 1999.  For that reason, I've decided that my entires for the month of May will focus on Veterans.

While researching some of the Veterans in my family it became clear that some had more "glamorous" service than others. Some sat on the sidelines, some never even left the city, some went across the globe to fight, some never came back, and some returned hoping to just forget the war.

My paternal Grandfather was, a US Navy Yeoman, Sterlie Miles of Cleveland, Ohio.

Circa 2004 I was taking PSYCH 101 at Mesa Community College. Coincidentally, the adjunct professor was a working Psychiatrist at the Phoenix VA Hospital. Even now, I can still recall the day she said something in lecture that clicked with me - it explained my grandfather's military service, more to the point, why. I had heard from my father why my grandfather never left the city during the war but I couldn't imagine it was systematic.

She started by saying the military previously used a policy of not sending educated individuals into combat. Off hand I want to say it was Alpha Something Policy but I'm grasping at straws with the name. Those individuals, that enlisted or were drafted - and had completed an education level higher than HS were kept out of combat as a matter of policy. There were instances where those with a higher education were sent into combat but it was very rare. Primarily, this occurred during WWII. A few years ago, I learned this same policy kept my grandmother's brother out of combat as well.

My Grandfather's mother Estelle was the daughter of Bohemian (Czech) immigrants. The family immigrated during a period of Czech discrimination. They undoubtedly faced slurs as "Dirty Bohunks". This, by all accounts, caused Estelle to stress the importance of education and propel my grandfather's education.

He was sent to East Technical HS in Cleveland, Ohio. The first trade school in the city. East Tech opened it's doors in 1908, the same year my grandfather was born, and counts many famous alumni such as Olympian Jesse Owens. For years, the school was an athletic powerhouse locally. In 1926 my Grandfather graduated and that same year became an employee of the Cleveland Board of Education.

After graduating from East Tech, his movements become a bit blurry. The below photo was taken circa 1927 at Patrick Henry Jr. High in Cleveland. My grandfather is the only adult in the photo. Of note, the student over his left shoulder is my grandmother's brother who would later become his brother-in-law.

Per the East Tech Scarab newspaper, my grandfather was teaching AV classes at Patrick Henry during this time. Perhaps he was trying to earn money for college tuition or was simply taking a gap year.

Circa 1928, he began his studies at Case (before it merged with Western Reserve to become Case Western Reserve) University. He earned a BS in political science and a MA in Science & Math before 1942.  In 1935 he began teaching at Patrick Henry and was hired on at East Tech in 1939 to teach social studies.

On September 29, 1942 he enlisted in the US Navy as a recruiter. The Navy promptly moved him to another office in the school while he performed his recruiting duties. That's right, my grandfather never even left his physical workplace (from before the war) even though his employer changed.

Since he was a teacher he was " prized for his affinity to connect with the target group ".  For the duration of WWII, my grandfather, worked as Navy Recruiter in the halls of East Tech HS.

During the war, he met and later married my grandmother Dorothy.

In March of 1946 he was discharged and resumed full time teaching duties. My grandparents went on to settle in Cleveland Heights, OH and raise 4 children. He was very involved in his Masonic Lodge. He was a 50 year Master Mason and served as a Grand Master of his lodge. Grandpa went on to retire from East Tech and died in 1988. 

The Broken Hearts Club September 6, 1956 - April 25, 2014

I'm all up to schedule! Although I'm writing this one day early, it is not who I intended to write about. You see I started this to write about only those who have passed. My Uncle Tom gave me the title of "family scribe" many years ago.

It is with a very heavy heart that I say Uncle Tom passed away yesterday. Cardiac Arrest. Dead on arrival. The youngest sibling. The frantic text messages. The crying. The phone calls.

I think it's safe to say many members of my family are members of the broken hearts club tonight.

As I write this, I can hear his voice in my head and him laughing or that little smirk he did. In honor of a very special man that is gone to soon, this family scribe would like to tell you about him.

I apologize in advance for any ramblings or typos - I'm going the best I can under the circumstances.

Thomas George Miles was born on September 6, 1956 in Cleveland, Ohio. The youngest child of the late Sterlie A. and Dorothy (nee Leisenheimer) Miles.

The Miles family can be summed up as Heinz 57. My Grandpa Miles was the son of a Czech mother & the Miles' were (probably but not proven) English/Welsh. My 2nd Great-Grandmother, Mary Ann (nee Hill) Miles was full Scottish.   My Grandma Miles' family was full German on her paternal side. Her maternal side (Grant & Jones families) were Scottish & Welsh respectively. My Miles line has deep roots in Cleveland - I'm a 5th generation Clevelander.

Circa (after) May 1985. Uncle Tom holding me and my sister standing. Taken at our house in Brook Park.

The few general remarks I wish to make are that he was a sensitive, caring, funny, smart, and compassionate man. He had the Miles "Black Thumb" and was wicked good with cars (as are his brothers) which isn't something that ran in the family. At Uncle Dave's funeral he was checking the air pressure of tires in the church parking lot.

He loved cartoons, Ren & Stimpy was a favorite.

Left to Right: My father, Uncle John, and Uncle Tom at Uncle Dave's funeral in 2007.

Some stories and facts about him:

Uncle Tom was supposed to be named Sarah after my Grandmother's Grandma (Sarah {nee Jones} Grant) but that didn't work out for obvious reasons.

He always worked as a laborer for as long as I can remember. I think he may have worked as part of the UAW for a period. We rarely saw Uncle Tom during this period as he was always working. He would sometimes sneak away to join on our annual shopping trip. My grandmother took Emily & I to the local mall (to shop at Sears - I believe it was probably Randall Park Mall) but I was little at the time. My grandmother treated Emily & I to a nice "sunday best" outfit when we visited Cleveland each summer. After shopping we would pay a visit to the Manhattan Grill with Uncle Tom joining us from time to time.


Grandma Miles took great pride in caring from Uncle Tom. From 1988 (when Grandpa Miles died) he lived with her (mostly full time). Grandma took her role seriously and packed him daily lunches. Grandma was a child of the depression and never let anything go to waste. She had stacks of food along the back kitchen windows and up the stairs. Those bags of Doritos? Stay away under penalty of Grandma! Those were for Uncle Tom's lunch, serious business to her, but we could have a melba snack she stocked for us. WTF Grandma? I remember the crazy amounts of cats, the bags of catnip in the basement, Uncle Tom still living in his childhood bedroom upstairs. The house on Roanoke had many memories for all of us.

My Grandparents house on Roanoke in Cleveland Heights. L to R: Grandpa Miles, Uncle Dave Morgan (holding my cousin Cher Morgan, and Cher is holding me), my cousin Dewey Morgan, Uncle Tom (holding my sister Emily). Circa summer 1988 before Grandpa died.

One Christmas, there was a mixup with Sears. Back in the day you had to order all of your items from the department store catalog, there was no store purchasing. Uncle Tom went on and on about Snagglepus. That year Sears mixed up the family order and Christmas would arrive late. How do you explain that to a young child that still believes in Santa?

As my father tells it, the whole family watched in horror as Uncle Tom ran down the stairs Christmas morning, tearing at the gifts looking for Snagglepus. One gift the family knew he would not find. Although it arrived a few days later, the story was never forgotten. Growing up the stuffed animal was always on the back of my grandparents couch. I wonder what became of him.

He had cats. He loved them - there seemed to be never ending Daisy's and Zoro's.

When Uncle Dave died I called Aunt Robin to ask about a place to stay for us girls (my sister & two step-sisters) in the small town they live in. Aunt Robin & Uncle John's house is a two bedroom house in the country. It is so rural that it's not even on satellites. I was walking down the isle of my aircraft, boarding, when I called her. I was holding back tears as I choked out words while other passengers stared at me. " Aunt Robin this is Sarah. I can't talk much now, I'm boarding in case you hear the intercom. I know it's short notice and a lot to ask but can us girls stay with you?" Her reply? " Uncle Tom already called and made arrangements for you girls to stay here. It's all sorted.". He was very thoughtful like that.

After the funeral he was tossing 12 packs of soda into the trunk of Dawn's car. I remember laughing thinking none of us even drink Orange Crush but his concern was that we have something for Uncle John & Aunt Robin's. It was his way of taking care of us. We had 1 car between all of us girls (with no AC either) that we drove down from Cleveland in - staying in very tight/cramped living quarters (only 2 people could fit on the bed in the guest bedroom - Michelle & I slept on the floor for two nights) - and we are all very cranky not to have cell coverage. That was the last time I saw him in person, July 2007.

On a more personal note, he had a knack for having his birthday card be the first to arrive. I received his 2014 card the day before he died. He sent me a really generous gift to use to buy myself something in Paris. That day I recall thinking I needed to send him a thank you card but then decided I would wait until after my trip so I could tell him what I spent it on while saying thank you. I'm crushed I will never get to tell him and birthday's without his early bird cards will never be the same. In some ways, I wish that next year someone starts anonymously sending me Uncle Tom cards.

As I cried over the cards (the last one) I received from him, I realized another relative was doing the same. I cried over the phone with my Aunt Robin. I'd never seen or heard her talk that way before. She spent the day digging out old cards trying to remember exactly when Uncle Tom had the stroke circa 2011. He wrote her a card she read to me, while her voice shook, " Robin thank you for taking care of me and helping me and all your well wishes. Your support means a lot." (I'm paraphrasing from memory). I have a deep love and respect for Aunt Robin and I have never heard her cry like that.

Perhaps I might add more but this is enough for now.

He was loved and will be deeply missed because Uncle Tom was amazing.

Edit: April 29 - http://www.clark-kirkland.com/obituary/Thomas-G.-Miles/Cadiz-OH/1377197

My cousin informed me that they were able to get a plot for Uncle Tom & Donella right next to Uncle Dave & Aunt Linda's in Cadiz.

Digging up old drama

One of my last posts was about my Great-Great-Grandfather, Frank Holan. Unfortunately, I know very little about him.

Various members of my family have voiced regret in not asking my late grandfather more about the family. Grandpa Miles died when I was 3 years old and was suffering dementia in the last years of his life. Even if someone had taken an interest back then, it would have been too late. My Great-Grandmother Estelle (Grandpa's Mom) was a Holan.

Several months ago I started getting emails about Clara B. Holan. Again, I know so little about that side it took me awhile to figure out who we were even talking about. Clara was my grandpa's first cousin.

Although it's not necessarily my family mystery, I inadvertently stumbled into Clara's mess by publishing my family tree online.

The email explained that Clara had a child, Vincent, out of wedlock in the 1930's allegedly fathered by an Italian man (possibly married). In the 1930 census Clara & Vincent are listed as "inmates" at a maternity hospital. She was likely sent away to have Vincent & was expected to return without him. He was named Vincent Wayne Holan but used the stage name Vincent Wayne.

Vincent's Headshot

From what I understand Clara was almost non-existent in Vincent's life. He was a talented musician on the verge of making it big. Perry Como gave him rave reviews. At a concert in 1959 he fell off stage, hit his head, and died. He was 29 years old & left behind 4 children.

Vincent's granddaughter, Tina (she lives in GA I believe), found my family tree & made contact. She wanted to know what I knew about the Holan family, if I knew anything about his father, etc. I reached out to all of my extended family & they all drew a blank on Clara and/or her descendants. It was crushing to have to tell Tina that I couldn't help her in her quest.

If Grandpa were still alive, might he have known something? As men knew so little of "womanly affairs" during this time I doubt my grandfather would have known much. If anyone at all, I think his sister Jessie might have known something. Aunt Jessie & Clara were about the same age. Unfortunately, Aunt Jessie died in 1984.

Months have gone by and then another email arrived. It was from a woman in Ohio named Holly. The email was almost identical to Tina's.

Holly's mother was a child of Clara's born about 4 years after Vincent out of wedlock ( I do not know her mother's first name.) Again, it was the same story - possibly an Italian father. There are not any records showing Holly's mom & Clara living together. Holly's mom was surrendered for adoption.

Clara "raised" Vincent & by all appearances doted on him. She periodically stayed in touch with Holly's mom but it was a very rocky relationship that did not endure.

Holly knew about Vincent - Vincent's family knew nothing of Holly's family. The last email I got from Tina said she'd spoken with her aunt (Vincent's daughter) who was adamant Vincent was an only child.  Imagine having all these cousins out there that you never knew existed, mind blowing.

Clara's grave marker only mentions Vincent ......

Today I put Tina & Holly in contact with each other. I'm not sure if Holly's mom & Vincent are full or half-siblings.

My belief is that ancestry DNA testing might break it wide open to lead us to the father. Now I can't help but wonder how many other children might be out there.

I find it sad that Vincent died so young & Clara treated them poorly. I hope these families can come together, find the answers, and finally heal from the damage.