Samuel Charles Phenice Lost a Son

I wasn’t sure what I was going to write about tonight.  I was busy at work this week, so I didn’t really think about it.  There were a few things that happened outside of work that made me consider a topic.  But I wasn’t sure.  Last week I talked about my dad’s side of the family, so this week it was time for a post on my mom’s side of the family.  Specifically, it was time for a Phenice post.

I looked through the folder of Phenice photos a little, but then thought it might be interesting to find something that happened 100 years ago.  I didn’t know what that might be, so I looked at photos in the 1920s.  Nothing stood out, so I looked at my family tree to see what was happening with the Phenice family 100 years ago.  There wasn’t anything specifically in 1924 that I saw, but I did see an event that happened in 1922.  On 2-22-22 (February 22, of 1922) my great great grandfather Samuel Charles Phenice suffered the loss of his first son Chauncey.

This was actually the theme I had thought of writing about this week, because my godmother lost her son this week.  It’s such a tragedy when a parent loses a child.  When my oldest sister died in 1989, it hit my parents really hard.  My goal for the rest of their lives was to take good care of myself so they wouldn’t have to go through that kind of loss again.  I succeeded.  But things happen sometimes outside of our control.

In the case of my great great grandfather Samuel, the death of his first child came just after a year of losing his wife of fifty years – Cathrine Jane “Kate” Foster Phenice.  Most of the time when I think about them, I focus on obvious things.  They had a long marriage of fifty years – a family tradition in this line – six generations with 50 years or more.  Of course, I tell about Samuel being in the Civil War out of Pennsylvania.  Yes, he was a Yankee!  He also was a witness to the Lincoln Assassination.  Kate had a tragic end to her life.  Her clothes caught on fire and she died as a result of her injuries.  As a result, Samuel dealt with the loss of his son without her.  Chauncey was their first – he was the one that made them parents.  

It’s kind of surprising that Samuel didn’t outlive more of his children.  When you live to the age of 95 like he did, it seems to happen.  My great great grandmother Belite Bujol outlived five of her seven children, and she only lived to be 80 years old.  There are sad stories in every family.  Yet it is the family who can help in these times.  Nothing you can say can repair the hole left behind when a loved one dies.  But the love and support from family and friends can make it a bit easier to endure.

This one is dedicated to my godmother and her son.