Author: Van

Rob Landry in WWI Company 2

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This is a great old photo from 100 years ago.  I haven’t known about it that long, though.  The first time I saw it and the other one like it was in 2019 when a few cousins got together to share old photos.  Those two were in the Tin Can Collection that Aunt Wana had in her attic for many years.  The photos are not only old, but they are also very long.  Actually, they were rolled up in a tube.  So they weren’t actually in the tin can per se, but I still refer to them as part of the Tin Can Collection.  I had to scan the photos in three separate scans and then stitch them together.  The main difference between this photo and the other one is that the men are not wearing their hats in this photo.

But look at this great old photo.  It’s definitely worth it.  I cleaned it up a little also to make it look a bit more cared for.  The photos have writing on them, and they give the date of August 1918.  The group is identified as Co 2 Advance Detachment E.O.T.C.  I’m not really sure what that means.  It was taken at Camp Humphreys, which was in Virginia.  My grandfather Robert Joseph “Rob” Landry was stationed there in1917 to 1918 for training purposes.  He joined the military when he was 24 years old.  

He seemed to have had good memories of his time in the service.  There are several photos of him by himself, with friends, and in large groups.  There’s even some of him playing his favorite sport – baseball.  He wasn’t having fun the whole time, of course.  Like I said, he was there to train.  One of the things he was training on were large guns, like cannons.  It’s the reason he had hearing loss for the rest of his life.  He also never saw action.  Just a few months after this photo was taken, the Great War came to an end.  He was honorably discharged on Dec. 4, 1918.  Those papers say he was in Company 1.

Here is a crop of the photo so you can see which one is my Pee Paw.  He’s in the middle of this one.

Samuel Phenice With Grandkids

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It’s time for a Phenice photo.  It all started this morning when I received an email about an old Phenice photo from the 1880s.  Someone wants to find relatives of the subjects of this old studio portrait made in Kansas.  She was trying to find someone who knew about the family.  I think she found the right person.  I know who the people in the photo are and I know who some of their current descendants are.  I haven’t seen the photo yet, but I look forward to seeing a photo of my great grandfather’s first cousins as children in 1880s Kansas.

In the meantime, I’m satisfied with looking at some old photos of my great great grandfather Samuel Charles Phenice.  You remember him, right?  He fought for the Union Army during the Civil War out of Pennsylvania.  He only fought in one notable battle – the Battle of the Wilderness.  But one was enough.  He was injured on May 5, 1864, in Spotsylvania, Viriginia.  While recovering from his injuries, he was stationed at Ford’s Theatre in Washington, DC, as part of the Veteran’s unit.  He was there the night of the Lincoln Assassination.  I don’t have any early photos of him in military garb.

Samuel Charles Phenice with grandchildren circa 1927 in Nebraska. From the Lincoln Collection.

I do have photos of him in his later years.  That’s because he lived such a long time.  He made it to the ripe old age of 95 years.  But in the photo I’m sharing with you, he was only 83.  He’s standing with four of his grandchildren.  They are his youngest grandchildren.  He had grandchildren much older than these four.  In fact, some of them were already parents themselves.  Samuel had about ten great grandchildren at this point.

They are his youngest because these grandchildren are the children of his youngest child.  He and my great great grandmother Cathrine “Kate” Foster Phenice had their last child Emma in 1889 when he was 45 years old.  That’s bit older than the average parent.  Then Emma had her last child Harry in 1927 when she was 37.

There is another interesting Lincoln connection here.  Harry was born on February 12, 1927.  February 12th is the birth date of Abraham Lincoln, so Harry was given the middle name of Lincoln.  Harry Lincoln Quillen.  I’m sure Samuel must have told little Harry his story of the Lincoln Assassination.  Harry lived to the age of 90, dying on his 90th birthday.  This photo came from that line of the family through Harry’s daughter Emma.  Thanks again for the photo.  I refer to the photos that she shared with me as the Lincoln Collection.  It seems appropriate.

There is a little bit of confusion about the subjects of this photo.  The caption was written by Samuel’s daughter Emma Phenice Quillen.  I think the people are called out in two rows.  The back row starts with Papa – Samuel Phenice – at the left.  On the right we have “Emma” holding Harry.  I don’t think that is Emma, who was 37 years old at the time.  I think it is her daughter Erma who was 15.  That’s why I call this photo Samuel and His Grandkids.  The two boys in the front with ties are Dean on the left and younger brother Harold on the right.

Samuel lived in Nebraska near Beaver City at least until 1930.  I’m thinking this must have been a visit to Grandpa’s house around 1927.

 

 

My Favorite Finds From 2025

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I thought I’d write a post about the favorite things I came across in my family history ramblings last year.  I found two really good stories about my ancestors doing commendable things.  And the other thing was an old record that was found from hundreds of years ago.  I’m always on the lookout for things like that and like to share what I find with everyone.  That way family members can see some information about their ancestors, and I’ll have a way of recording it so I don’t forget about it!  The downside is that I don’t give resources for the things I find.  I figure if people what to verify it is true or not, they can do an online search and find it, too.  At least they know what to search for.

“French Peasant” by Kevin Leveque circa May 19, 2020 (the day he posted it online).

The first image I’m using in this post is of a painting by a cousin.  The painting is called “French Peasant” and it was painted around 2020 by Kevin Leveque, a third cousin from my Landry great grandmother.  He posted a photo of the painting on Facebook, and I commented on how much I liked it.  It always makes me think of my French and Acadian ancestresses who lived and worked on farms through the years.  Kevin and I have many common ancestors, including two of the maternal ones I’m talking about here.

The first discovery I’m talking about is the discovery of Michelle Aucoin’s birth record.  She was born in LaRochelle, France, on January 29, 1620.  Her parents were Martin Aucoin and Barbe Minguette.  The family made the crossing to the New World in 1642 and were some of the founders of Acadie.  Many of those early founders’ birth records are a mystery.  There have been people looking for them for years with no luck.  So when one is discovered, it’s kind of a big thing.  At least for those of us who are looking.

Daddy had her in his tree with the correct birthplace and a close estimated birth year.  He also had the father’s name correct.  He didn’t have the correct mother and hadn’t made all of the connections to her, but I’m always amazed at all of the information he discovered.  He put in most of the branches on the tree, while I’m just fine tuning and pruning a bit.  My work is based on the groundwork provided by him and Mee Maw.  I know they would be excited with the new information being discovered.

The second discovery had something to do with a witchcraft trial in Quebec in 1684.  Though the trial was in Quebec, the events that were being questioned occurred in Acadie and involved our ancestors Francois Pellerin and Andree Martin.  The witchcraft part of the story was intriguing, but my favorite part was about the actions of my great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great grandmother Andree Martin.  That’s right, she was my 8X great grandmother.  It was a long time ago.  By the way, Michelle Aucoin was also my 8X great grandmother. 

Anyway, Andree was visiting her sister one year.  As they were walking along, they witnessed a man harassing a young girl.  Instead of ignoring the situation, she asked the man to stop, then made him stop.  I love that she did the right thing.  It was not the last of their unpleasant interactions, though.  That may have led to her accusing him of using witchcraft to kill her husband.  She might have believed it, but she may have said what she needed to so the man would be stopped.  It worked.

The last of my favorite discoveries has to do with the Hine line in my mom’s tree.  This event occurred over a hundred years later than the first two stories, and it has to do with my 4X great grandfather John Hein.  He was born in 1747 in Dillenberg, Germany, to Johannes Jacob Hein and Ann Schober.  He immigrated with his father and stepmother in October 1753 to Broad Bay, Maine.  They later moved to Wachovia, North Carolina, which is where our ancestor John performed his heroic act.  He and two friends were attempting to cross a flooded creek to respond to some request for help.  All they had was a shabby canoe, and they decided to make the attempt anyway.  The canoe sank and Brother Hein was the only one that knew how to swim.  Despite the strong currents, our John was able to save his two friends.  Commendable indeed!

So now we’re on to another year.  I’m hoping for new discoveries, new photos…new everything.  We’re living in the future.  Happy New Year to everyone.

Landry Christmas 1958

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Can you believe it?  I almost forgot about writing a post today.  I was reminded earlier, and it slipped my mind.  Then we started watching a movie.  It was interrupted by a phone call.  When the caller asked what we were doing, I was reminded again about it.  You would think after doing this for ten years that I wouldn’t forget about my Thursday night obligation.  Not that it’s really an obligation.  I forgot about it last Christmas, too, and was two days late with my post.  Not this year.

Landry Family Christmas Eve Get Together in 1958 in Lake Charles, Louisiana

I thought I would go ahead and do another Christmas post this year since it is Christmas Day.  Merry Christmas!  It’s what I had planned all along.  Three Christmas post this year seemed right.  The first one included a photo from the 1970s.  The second one had a photo from the 1960s.  So I thought I’d follow the trend and include a photo from a decade earlier.  

This photo is from 1958 in Lake Charles, Louisiana.  That’s a long time ago.  I wasn’t even born yet.  But I would soon be joining these siblings and cousins in the Landry Christmas traditions.  Back then the event would occur at my grandmother’s house in Lake Charles.  She was born in Crescent, Louisiana, which is near Plaquemine.  She was given the name Germaine Erie Patureau, though she usually went by Erie.  She would grow up in Crescent and Lafayette, get married to Robert Joseph “Rob” Landry, and then reared a family in Lake Charles, Louisiana.

She became a grandmother in 1948 when my cousin Shirley was born.  We call her “The First” because she demands it.  It was at that point that my grandmother went from Erie and Mama to Mee Maw.  My grandfather was called Pee Paw and he was around for most of these earlier cousins, but he died in 1957, so I never knew him.  I didn’t think about all of those things back then.  I just knew that we all loved going to be with our aunts, uncles, and cousins at Mee Maw’s house.  You could tell that she loved all of her grandchildren very much.  I’m pretty sure I was her favorite, though.

But in 1958 I wasn’t there, so someone else must have been the favorite at that point.  It could have been Shirley.  She was the first, as we all know.  And I will admit that she is loveable. But then my sister Jodie was pretty special too.  Doesn’t she look angelic in her pink dress?  She was the first in my family.  That’s always a special thing.  Look at Doug, who is in the black shirt in front of Jodie.  He was the first in Aunt Germaine’s family.  He looks really happy.  Maybe Mee Maw told him that he was her favorite (so far!)

I think that’s what she wanted.  How could she not love all of those little kids who were her grandchildren?  She wanted them to feel special and that she loved them best.  I think she accomplished that.  She had lots of love to go around.

IPSIWHFT

Bucklin Christmas 1963

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Christmas day was spent at my grandparents’ home in Hathaway, Louisiana.

When I was a little kid, our Christmas Day was spent at our Bucklin grandparents’ place.  Their names were Fred Bucklin and Myrtle Phenice Bucklin, and they were my mom’s parents.  My mom’s name was Betty Lou Bucklin Landry.  But I always knew them as Grandpa, Grandma, and Mama.  My mom and her parents were born and raised in Hathaway, Louisiana.  Not at the same time, obviously!  Previous generations of their families were born in various places like Pennsylvania, Indiana, Massachusetts, Ireland, and England.

We would spend Christmas Eve in Lake Charles at my dad’s side of the family.  I was only three years old in 1963, so I was too young to stay up for midnight mass.  We were living just north of I-10 in Jennings at that point.  I remember when we were opening presents on that Christmas morning.  I don’t remember what I got, I just remember thinking that the things we got came from a midnight visitor. 

And that midnight visitor had left some evidence of his visit.  There were like two empty burlap bags found outside on the ground.  We just knew they were from Santa.  When I looked up burlap bags online just now, it showed a burlap bag that had “Santa’s Bag of Coal” written on it.  But that was for naughty little boys and girls, and I was not a naughty boy!  I’m assuming that after we finished opening our presents and looking through our stockings, we went to Grandma and Grandpa’s.  It was only about fifteen minutes away.

Christmas 1963 in full color in Hathaway.

We weren’t the only ones that went there.  My mom was one of five children, and in 1963 Grandma and Grandpa had fifteen grandchildren.  It was a lively place to be back then.  You might not think that from looking at that black and white photo from the 1963 event.  I do like that photo.  I like the way my mom is looking down at me, except it wasn’t me that she was looking at!  I’m pretty sure that is my cousin Keith, the second son of mom’s sister Loris.  He was born a couple of months after me, so we were about the same size back then. 

My dad was Robert Joseph “Bob” Landry, Jr. and you can see him sitting and yawning as he looked at something Jodie was showing him.  Jodie was my oldest sister.  In front of them you can see my brother Al playing with an airplane.  I’m right next to him fooling with something out of sight.  It could have been my grandmother’s sock monkey that she had back then.  I remember going to get it when we first arrived at their house.  I’ve always been a big fan of sock monkeys.  In the foreground you can see a shock of blond hair.  That could be either my sister Karen or my cousin Rhonda.  Rhonda is the daughter of my mom’s sister Alma.

Rhonda can be seen in the color photo from that same event.  She’s in the red sweater behind that amazing contraption.  What is that thing?!  And who did it belong to?  It’s vaguely familiar.  I can see the arms flying out as the yellow bullets spun around to spin its tiny inhabitants upside down.  It seems to be the hit of the party.  Standing up on the right is Brent, the older brother of Keith.  In front of him is Paul, who was one of the sons of mom’s older sister Sylvia.  He seems to be intensely working to get the contraption to operate correctly.  Across from him is his younger sister Lynn. 

I wished that I had been in this photo, too.  Maybe that was me on the left edge of the photo?  No, that looks more like Al.  But then when I compared it to the other photo, I realized it was Keith who had upstaged me yet again.  The young boy above him doesn’t look like me or Al, so I’m thinking that it was probably Aunt Sylvia’s youngest boy Kevin.

I like both of these photos, yet they are so different.  The second one is in color, is much sharper, and seems more cheerful.  The first one is black and white, is very blurry, and is definitely moodier.  Both bring up memories of being in my grandparents’ house with all of the cousins.  There was lots of laughing and playing.  There was lots of good food to eat.  I remember my grandmother’s dark roast gravy that she prepared in her black enamel roaster (graniteware?).  Plus, she made the best desserts, especially her divinity.  I wonder if there are photos of that.  

Hey, cousins, if you have any photos from this Christmas, share them with us in the comments.  I know I don’t have all of the photos.  Surely there was another photo taken on that roll of color film.  It would be interesting to see if there were photos that show the event in an even different mood.  You never know.  For now, these are the ones I have to share.  Enjoy.

 

The Carol of the Star

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I don’t usually have a blog based on music, much less an individual song, but I think this one deserves it.  I’ve actually shared the song before.  That was five years ago, and the post was about the music that my dad – Bob Landry – had directed many moons ago at the Northside gym in Jennings.  Our family moved to Jennings, Louisiana, in the early 60s.  At first he taught at Elton, but then he moved to Northside Junior High in Jennings.  I don’t really remember the two years he taught at Elton, but I remember those early years at the Northside gym.

Jennings Northside Jr. High School summer band program 1966.

I have lots of memories from the band programs there.  I wasn’t even in school yet, but my siblings and I would go to the summer band program every summer.  I think it was a way to give my mom a break from taking care of the six of us.  We would go to that old un-air-conditioned gym in the heat of the summer and think nothing of it.  It wasn’t just a gym.  There were aisles of schoolrooms on either side of it.  We would go to a classroom, take out our ukuleles (guitars for the older kids), sit in our seats, and sing and play the songs shown with the overhead projector as the fan oscillated back and forth across our slightly sweaty faces.  It was heaven!

We’d sing songs like “Down in the Valley” that only had a few chords.  At first you really had to concentrate to get the fingerings right for that C or G chord and try to sing along as you strummed the ukulele to the right rhythm.  You would improve and then it was easier to play songs like “This Land Is Your Land” that had more chords.  We even learned to sing a little Spanish with “Cuando Calienta El Sol.”  We learned about our brave military heroes from the song “The Ballad of the Green Beret.”  Those songs all evoke such memories when I hear them now. 

But the song that evokes the most memories is the song “The Carol of the Star.”  The chorus at Northside would sing that every year at Christmastime at the gathering for the end of the fall semester.  My dad made recordings of some of those concerts on an old reel-to-reel recorder.  He kept them in the kitchen closet for many years.  I’m sure the old 1959 Harry Simone original recording of the song was in there as well.  It was such a fun song to sing.  There were lots of harmonies and echoes, and the older boys got to sing the best “Bum pa dum pa dum, bum pum” part.  It’s a great Christmas song that you don’t ever hear anywhere.

This recording was made fifteen years ago.  My brother Al recorded me singing the first verse over the phone when he was in Chicago and I was in North Carolina.  He also recorded himself and my sister Jamie singing the second and third verses.  My sister Karen, and my mom and dad sang some harmonies for him before he worked his magic and combined them all together.  I don’t know how he got Jamie’s husband Allen to sing the “Bum pa dum” part.  I’ve never heard him sing!  Al did multiply it and do some editing on it.  It’s a shame that my brother Rob wasn’t in on it.

The song is very moving to me.  I like to listen to it with my ear buds in, so there is no external distraction.  When I start the song, I can hear myself singing, and then Karen joins in right beside me.  Like in olden days.  As other voices join in, I really do get transported to those early days of singing this song.  It’s like my parents are right behind me again making sure we all know the words and the melody of the song.  Sometimes it seems like Jodie was still around singing along with us, but she had died long before the recordings were made.  Her voice was similar to mom’s and my sisters’ voices.  It’s like we are all together again.

I’m sure that many of my dad’s students from back in the day have a similar experience when they hear this song.  I’m including the old recording from 1966 at Northside.  I think they did a great job for junior high school students.  When I hear it, I can picture that old gym so clearly.  When I posted this song previously, I did get comments about it doing the same for other students from then.  It’s not too soon to share it again.

Landry family Christmas 1974 in Jennings, Louisiana.

I also have to share a photo from an old Christmas in the past.  Some people won’t look at a post unless there is an interesting photo to look at.  My interesting photo is an old family photo from the Christmas of 1974.  It’s a photo Rob sent to me a while back.  He had his new Minolta camera with a timer on it.  Everyone can be in the photo!  From left to right (and top to bottom) are Rob, Al, Van, Betty (mom), Jamie, Dennis Franklin (Jodie’s first husband), Jodie, Karen, and Bob.

I hope that was interesting enough.  I think the song is more than interesting, but that’s me.  Hopefully others will find a connection to it.

 

Myrtle Phenice Bucklin in 1945

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Myrtle Sylvia Phenice Bucklin in 1945 in Hathaway, Louisiana.

Myrtle Sylvia Phenice Bucklin in 1945 in Hathaway, Louisiana.

I’ve used this photo of my maternal grandmother before, but that was 10 years ago.  I’ve decided that I can reuse some of those old photos from before if it has been a while.  This one qualifies.  Besides, it’s a wonderful photo of her.  I’ve acquired a few more photos of her in the time I’ve been collecting old family photos, but this one is still a favorite.  So, I decided to give it a fresh upgrade with the updated photo software that has developed in that time.  I didn’t really change it that much, but I did get rid of a few distracting errors on it.  It’s the new and improved Myrtle.  I hope you like it, Grandma!

And this time around I’ll write a bit more than before.  That first post using this photo was only as long as that first paragraph.  So now you get more of everything!  And the price has not gone up during the past ten years!  How many things can you say that about?  

My grandmother’s name was Myrtle Sylvia Phenice when she was born on December 19, 1906, in Hathaway, Louisiana.  Her parents were Harry Clifton Phenice (1874-1955), and Daisy Henrietta Martha Keys (1876-1952).   She graduated from Jennings High School in 1925.  She went to Southwestern Louisiana Institute (SLI) after that and received her teaching certificate (good for life) in 1928.  She taught for two years, got married to Fred Bucklin, and then stopped teaching when she started having children in 1931.

She and Fred had five children together: Syvia in 1931, Betty Lou (my wonderful mom) in 1933, Alma in 1935, Loris in 1937, and Austin in 1942.  When Austin was a few years old, she went back to teaching.  Or so the story goes!  When I posted this photo before, Aunt Loris agreed that the photo was from 1945.  It was supposedly the first year that Grandma went back to teaching.  Aunt Loris even sent me a photo of her own class in 1945 when Grandma was her teacher.  It looked like the same age as this photo.  The photo shows that they were in the 3rd grade, which is the grade that she always seemed to be associated with.  In Grandma’s history from her memorial, it showed that she returned to teaching in 1946.  Ok.

But then I was looking at something my mom wrote on the posts that I put together for Mom’s Memories.  On page 19 she said that Grandma was her teacher in the 6th grade.  She said it was a trying year and that it was “not fun at all!”  I’ve always felt the same way about having my dad for a teacher.  Everyone else says how wonderful he was – “He was a legend.” – but I didn’t experience it that way.  Anyway, when I was looking at this other piece of information tonight, I was wondering when Mama was actually in the 6th grade. 

So, I did some ciphering.  If she was in 12th grade in 1950-1951, that would put her in the 6th grade from 1944 to 1945.   I wonder if that was correct.  If so, Grandma’s first year back wasn’t in 1945 or 1946.  When I was trying to clear it up, I looked at the 1951 Hathaway Hornet yearbook.  It was mom’s senior year, and Grandma was a teacher that year.  But she wasn’t teaching third grade, she was teaching fourth grade.  Maybe it was because Austin was in the third grade.  Or maybe it was before she settled into teaching third grade regularly.

I’d still like to know for sure if my mom had her mother as her teacher in the 6th grade in 1944.  If you have a Hathaway Hornet yearbook from that year, send me a shot of my mom in her class.  That would be an amazing thing to see.  I have some of her later class photos, but I’m always interested in seeing more.

Erie in the Nebula

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I decided on a photo for tonight’s post and decided to edit it before I used it.  I thought I’d delete the lines, scratches, and small spots that were all over the photo.  Light spots in the dark areas and dark spots in the light areas.  They were all over the place and it took way longer than what I wanted to spend.  As I was zoomed in on certain areas, the image reminded me of images seen from the James Webb space telescope.  It’s like I was extinguishing stars in a large nebula!  When I would zoom out, I could still see my grandmother Erie with her group of friends and/or family.  Hence the title.

Lafayette, Louisiana, circa 1920.

The photo is of a group of seventeen young adults from around 1920.  I’m thinking that the photo was taken in Lafayette, Louisiana, which is where my grandmother was living back then.  My dad’s mother was Germaine Erie Patureau before she married Robert Joseph “Rob” Landry in 1921.  She was born in Plaquemine, Louisiana, but the family moved to Lafayette around 1912.  

Erie went to SLI and got her teaching degree and then worked as a teacher for a few years in Lafayette.  I don’t think this is a picture of a group of teachers.  It looks more like couples.  Maybe not.  There are more than twice as many women.  I compared the men to the photo of her graduating class, but I couldn’t make any certain connections.

In the photo, Erie is fourth from the right.  She’s looking down and to the left and is wearing a dark coat.  She doesn’t really seem so happy, but I still like the photo.  They seem like a tight little group.  I really wish I knew who they all were.  I’m pretty sure that one of them is her youngest sister, Sylvie.  The one I’m talking about is the one that is fourth from the left.  She’s standing, wearing a dark coat, but she’s smiling and looks somewhat happy.

Maybe it’s because she is wearing moss around her neck.  She’s not the only one.  The two young women sitting in front of her are also wearing the moss.  I didn’t notice it until I was cleaning up the photo.  I was getting ready to get rid of it because I thought it was a bad scratch or something.  Then I realized it was moss and that a few of them were wearing it.  I don’t recognize the other two wearing moss around their necks.  They could be cousins, but they don’t look like Patureau sisters.  But the two young women between Erie and Sylvie (tentative ID) look like they could be. 

So, this might be a photo with at least four Patureau sisters in it.  It’s a bit nebulous.

 

Ten Years

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Can you believe it?  I’ve made a whole ten years of writing these family history blog posts without missing a week.  I’ve even wrote a few extra along the way, so I have more than 520 posts.  I had no goal when I first started posting old photos that I started to collect when looking into the history of my different family lines.

Those first posts were just sharing old photos and identifying who the people were.  I started adding the connections I had with the people.   Then I started telling stories about the information I was finding.  Most of the times I was talking about photos, but I also wrote about letters, musical instruments, death notices, artwork, a bed, or any other item that was associated with my family one way or the other. 

I’ve learned a lot about my family over the past ten years.  Lots of times I write the information I have found so I won’t forget it.  It’s also so other people in the family can learn about their history as well.  I have no idea how many people read it or whether they are saving copies of some of those old photos I’ve found.  I don’t really keep track of it.  Of course, I do like it when I get positive comments and people share information that they remember about certain family members and events.  

I thought I’d post some of my favorite photos that I’ve discovered while doing these posts.  When I’m running out of photos, it encourages me to seek out old photos from various sources.  I’ve even had people send me photos that they had found so I can use them for these posts.  I’ve gotten together with cousins who are so good about sharing their old photos. 

Patureau family in 1864

So my favorite photo is also one of the oldest photos that I have.  I had an old version of it for many years.  It was just an old Xerox copy of the Patureau family from 1864.  My dad must have gotten it from a cousin years ago.  His mother was a Patureau.  I tried editing it a few times, but it wasn’t really good.  I used it in a post in 2018, but I was always on the lookout for a better version.

In 2021 I found out about the Pierre Ferdinand Patureau Collection at the Tyrrell Historical Library in Beaumont.  One of the Patureau cousins had donated a huge collection of items associated with the family.  I went there to see it and one of the things I was looking for was that old 1864 photo.  You cannot imagine how thrilled I was to see that original photo in excellent condition.  I stood up from where I was sitting and wanted to hoop and holler!  I could barely contain my excitement.  I got a little choked up and maybe even shed a tear.  Definitely the strongest reaction I’ve ever had to a photo.

George Hine circa 1900

And now for second best.  At times like this when I realize how many wonderful old photos I have.  I’ll have to go with an image I cropped from an old family photo on my mom’s dad’s side of the family.  I love the original photo.  My mom had an old photo of the photo that I never really paid attention to.  

When I started researching, I got in touch with mom’s cousins and got lots of Bucklin photos.  I even got an original framed print of this photo of the Hine family.  My grandfather Fred Bucklin’s grandfather was George Hine.  I edited the photo from a scan that my cousin Joseph had done.  I spent a lot of time on that photo! 

But what struck me the most when I was doing that was the face of George.  There’s so much character in that face.  So I made a crop of the face and worked to get it looking just right.  I have a framed enlargement hanging in our bathroom.  

My grandfather Robert Joseph Landry is the Man in Black in the middle of this photo. January 1912

My third favorite photo that I’ve gotten during this time is a photo of my grandfather Robert Joseph Landry, Sr. in January of 1912.  I think it came from my dad’s collection that I got when my parents moved into Assisted Living.  I don’t remember seeing that photo before then.  He had several other great photos that I didn’t know of, including one my Mee Maw when she was a young girl known as Erie Patureau.  That one almost made the cut.

But the one of my grandfather with a group of friends/cousins is definitely a favorite.  And my favorite version of it is this colorized one.  I’m not usually a fan of colorized photos, but for some reason it works for this one.  I like it because some of the cousins in the photo are also related to some of my coworkers.  I have a copy of it hanging in my cubicle at work.

Harry Clifton Phenice in Cripple Creek Gold Mine circa 1906

I can’t talk about favorite family photos without mentioning my old gold mine photo.  My mom had it as long as I can remember, and now I have it.  It’s a photo of her grandfather Harry Clifton Phenice (man sitting front right with mustache) in a gold mine in Colorado around 1906.

I don’t know how they took such a great photo in a gold mine back then.  You can even see the candles they were using to be able to see down there.  I spent a bit of time on this one, too.  If you saw the original, you wouldn’t think that it would scan well.

Tez would travel with my Mee Maw (on the right), who was Tez’s aunt. circa 1970

Besides having favorite photos, I also have some favorite posts where the main focus wasn’t a photo.  I’d have to say my favorite was the one about the Bumply UG.  It is a story loosely based on my dad’s cousin Therese Wynhoven Mouton.  She was known by various nicknames such as Tez, Wynie (sounds like Whiney), and by some as Cousin Wart. 

So many of my cousins could relate to the story, because they had stories to tell about Therese as well.  I think I got more comments on that post than any of the others.  The story and the comments always make me laugh.  Tez was a character, and she liked to travel with my grandmother.

On a more serious note, one of my other favorite posts was about a much sadder situation.  In 2020 I decided to write about the experiences that my Acadian ancestors had been through during the Grand Derangement or Great Expulsion.  If you don’t know about that, it was back in 1755.  A group of French people settled the area of Acadie in North America in the 1600s. 

They were some of the earliest settlers in the New World.  But the area they lived in was disputed between English and French for many years.  In 1755 the English got fed up with the Acadians and decided to Exile them.  They burned their homes, destroyed their churches, slaughtered their livestock, and forced them onto ships to the English colonies.  I had read about this for a while and decided to try to find out the stories of my ancestors.

There are so many sad stories.  So many people lost family members.  Lots of times they lost touch with most of their families and didn’t know whether they lived or died.  While looking through all of those family tragedies, one of them stood out.  It was the experiences of Marie Magdeleine Granger.  So many personal tragedies.  I won’t go into all of the details again, but she really does personify perseverance. 

So there you have it.  My looking back at my looking back.  I hope you keep enjoying them.

Grandma Addie Circa 1937

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Addie May Hine Bucklin in Hathaway, Louisiana, circa 1937.

Here is a photo of my mom’s grandmother back when my mom was just a kid.  It’s not the best photo, but it is kind of interesting.  She’s standing in front of the family home in Hathaway, Louisiana.  It looks kind of ghostly in the background.  Grandma Addie must have been standing in the shade while the house was in full sun.

Addie May Hine was born on September 23, 1876, in Noblesville, Indiana.  She was the youngest of my mom’s grandparents, though she was only a few months younger than mom’s other grandmother.  Mom’s oldest grandparent was Addie’s husband Louis Charles Bucklin, who was born in 1873.  There wasn’t much difference in all of her grandparents’ ages.  But my mom never met her paternal grandfather because Lou Bucklin died in 1927.

Addie was only the second generation born in Indiana.  Her father George Henry Hine had been born there, but his parents had been born in North Carolina.  His family names included Hine, Cox, Miller, and Vestal.  Her mother Susan G. Stanbrough was from Indiana as well, but her parents had been born in Ohio.  Her family names included Stanbrough, Mills, Hester, and Brown.  The further back along the tree brings your further east and eventually to Europe.

Addie grew up in Indiana with her five younger brothers.  The family then moved to southern Louisiana in 1894.  A few years later she married Lou Bucklin and they started their family together.  They had twelve children, though she only had ten pregnancies.  That’s because she had two sets of twins – one set of identical boys and a set of fraternal twins of different sexes.  My grandfather Fred D. Bucklin was one of the identical twin boys.  He grew up and married Myrtle Phenice.  Fred and Myrtle had five children, including my mom, Betty Lou Bucklin.  

Little Betty Lou was born in 1933, and I’m thinking that this photo was taken around 1937.  This is around the time my mom had her earliest memories.  I think it was a year earlier when she had her most hated haircut.  It was cut really short and little Betty Lou did not want to look like a little boy. But she always had fond memories associated with her Grandma Bucklin.  I’m assuming that this means that her Grandma Bucklin was not responsible for that life-scarring haircut!  

But who couldn’t like Grandma Addie?  She sounds like a sweet woman.  Sure, sometimes it looks like she’s scowling in some of those old photos.  But if you heard her tell the story of her little dog Sammy getting hit by a truck, you can hear the kindness in her voice.  And actually, this photo is kinda growing on me.  Like I said, she’s not scowling.  Plus she looks very pensive.  She surely must have known that the person with the camera was standing there, yet she shows no evidence of that.  It seems more candid and timeless in some way.  I think I’ll just sit and stare at it for a while.

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