Landry | Family History

Marie Carmelite Revisited

April 5, 2018 Van One comment

Two weeks ago my post was about my great great grandmother Marie Carmelite Hebert Landry. Since I wrote that post, I received my DNA test results at AncestryDNA.com. I really wasn’t expecting much there because I had tested at 23andMe previously and all of the Cajun DNA from cousins marrying cousins is very confusing. I found a few Patureau and Landry 2nd and 3rd cousins, which was interesting. Then I came across a DNA match who was a Wilkinson.

Marie Patureau Wilkinson and her first cousin Germaine Erie Patureau Landry in the early 1960s.

I recognize that name Wilkinson because I have a photo of our dear beloved Mee Maw (paternal grandmother Germaine Erie Patureau Landry) with her first cousin Marie Caroline Patureau Wilkinson.

I didn’t do much research into the Wilkinson line when I first saw that Marie had married a Wilkinson, but then I found another Wilkinson connection to the family. Our cousins Byron and Dana Patureau, son and daughter of Elmo “Pat” Patureau, had a grandmother who was a Wilkinson. When I discovered that, I was interested to see if I could find a connection between the two Wilkinsons marrying into the Patureau line.

Come to find out, Marie’s husband William was the first cousin of Pat’s mother Geraldine. William Wilkinson, Jr. was the son of William Wilkinson, Sr and Emily Rivet. Geraldine was the daughter of William, Sr.’s brother Herman Wilkinson. I was glad to be able to find a connection at that time. And then along comes a DNA match with a Wilkinson at Ancestry.

So my first thought was that this match would be a descendant of Marie. I think I sent a message to her son at some point when I found his family tree online. I never heard anything back. But I knew what his family tree looked like, and the Wilkinson DNA match did not have the same tree. The thing that really struck me at first was that the common ancestors were identified as Diego Hernandez and Anne Theotiste Babin. Remember them? Of course you do. Diego was the grandfather of our little Marie Carmelite. His daughter Marie Marthe married Simon Hebert in 1800, they had Marie Carmelite in 1802, and Simon died a few months later.

Marie Marthe then married Pierre Rivet, and they had three sons together. I reported that the three sons had died as infants, but that I hoped that my information was wrong. Well, when I looked at my Wilkinson DNA match closer, I realized that the actual common ancestor was Marie Marthe Hernandez. (They had her listed as Marie Marthe Marca Hernandez.) And they showed that they descend from her second marriage to Pierre Rivet! (I’m referring to my DNA match as ‘they’ because I later found that another sibling is a DNA match to me as well.)

Emily Rivet Wilkinson on the left. Her mother-in-law Frances Johnson Wilkinson is on the right and she is holding Emily’s son Joseph B. Wilkinson. Circa 1904

So Marie Marthe’s third son Auguste Rivet did not die as an infant. His full name was Auguste Valmond Rivet and he lived long enough to have four children of his own. So our Marie Carmelite had a brother that survived to adulthood, and she was aunt to his children. That’s nice to hear after the many tragedies in her early life.

Auguste Valmond’s second son was Joseph Premelia Rivet and he married Marie Amanda Landry (his second cousin through Diego Hernandez!). They had a daughter name Mary Emily Rivet. And when little Emily grew up, she married a Wilkinson.

I know you saw that coming. I already mentioned Emily Rivet marrying William Wilkinson, Sr. earlier on in this post. So come to find out, Mee Maw’s paternal first cousin Marie Patureau married Mee Maw’s maternal half third cousin William Wilkinson, Jr. I wonder if she was aware of that? She might have been because she was into family history and family connections. I know her brother Vincent would pick her up in Lake Charles and they would visit cousins in New Orleans, which is where Marie lived.

One of the fun things about this discovery was the old photo of Emily with her son and mother-in-law from 1904. And since Emily’s brother-in-law was Herman Wilkinson, she is not an ancestor of Byron and Dana (and others in the line of Elmo Leobon Patureau, Sr. and Geraldine Wilkinson) and neither is Marie Marthe. But Frances Johnson Wilkinson is. The woman in the old photo holding the little boy is their great great grandmother.

Since this family line (and DNA match) comes from Mee Maw’s Landry side of the family, it is also in Pee Paw’s line as well. No wonder we have common DNA with them; we got a double dose of it. But since they are half cousins, that should reduce the amount of DNA that we would have in common. I will leave it up to you to determine the relationships involved and what the expected amount of DNA in common should be. Get your calculators out and have a few aspirins ready!

Marie Carmelite’s Story

March 22, 2018 Van Leave a comment

My dad Robert Joseph Landry, Jr.’s family tree showing his paternal great grandmother Marie Carmelite Hebert.

Marie Carmelite Hebert was born on February 3, 1802, in Brusly, Louisiana. Her parents were Simon Hebert, 24, and Marie Marthe Hernandez Hebert, 21. This was during Spanish rule of Louisiana and Brusly was a small town on the west bank of the Mississippi River in what is now known as West Baton Rouge Parish.

Though Simon and Marie Marthe look like they might not be related since their last names are Hebert and Hernandez, they are in fact related. They were third cousins through their common Acadian great great grandparents Anthony LeBlanc and Marie Bourgeois. They also have common Landry, Dupuis, and Babin lines. Marie Marthe, though, was the daughter of Diego Hernandez, who was seemingly Spanish. His ancestry is not known. Her mother was Theotiste Babin, an Acadian Exile.

On April 17, 1802, Simon Hebert died. This left young Marie Marthe a widow with a two and a half month old daughter. There are court documents that discuss Simon’s inheritance and the guardianship of Marie Carmelite. Her paternal grandfather Pierre Hebert was named guardian. On March 5, 1806, Pierre appears in court and relinquishes guardianship and passes the responsibility over to his son Ely Hebert. Pierre then dies sometime within the next ten days.

I’m not really sure why Marie Carmelite needed a guardian since her mother Marie Marthe was alive during that time. In an 1803 court record it shows that Marie Marthe received her own share of her husband’s property and that Pierre Hebert received Marie Carmelite’s share since he was the guardian. I don’t know the dynamics of the relationships nor am I familiar with all of the Spanish laws that were in effect at the time, but it sounds like it could be a difficult time for the young mother and her daughter.

Marie Marthe then married Pierre Rivet in 1807. Her brother was also married to a Rivet. Marie’s brother was married to Pierre’s sister. Marie Carmelite was an only child until this point. Her mother did have three sons with Pierre Rivet. Pierre was born in 1808, Louis was born in 1810, and Auguste was born in 1812. According to my information they all died within a year of their births. That sounds really tragic, so I hope the information I have is wrong, especially for little Marie Carmelite’s sake. If it is correct, at the age of 11 she would have experienced the death of her father, her grandfather, and all three of her siblings.

I thought about warning you that this was a sad story, but I held back on that. I only have birth dates and death dates available to me, so I really don’t know the overall experiences of her life. But having your father die at an extreme young age is rather sad. At least she had her mother for a dozen years. That’s right. Marie Marthe died in 1814 at the age of 33. So that left Marie Carmelite an orphan at the age of 12.

Marriage record for Narcisse Landry and Marie Carmelite Hebert in St. Gabriel, Louisiana.

She still had her grandfather Diego, but then he died the next year as well. At least her grandmother Marie Theotiste Babin Hernandez survived until Marie Carmelite had reached adulthood and gotten married. From the court documents it seems like the different family members in both the Hebert and Hernandez families were willing to help.

She married Narcisse Landry on February 13, 1819, in St. Gabriel. As you can see in the marriage license, both of Narcisse’s parents were deceased at the time of their wedding. He was 10 years older than she was and did not lose his parents at as young of an age. Still, he was only 27 and both of his parents had died.

I hope they had a happy life together. During the next 25 years they brought 8 children into the world. I’m glad they kept going until #7 and #8, because #7 is my great great grandfather Trasimond Landry and #8 is my great grandfather Alcide. It was a different life, though. Her whole life was spent during slavery times in southern Louisiana. She and her husband lived on a plantation in Brusly that incorporated slave labor. It was a terrible institution to be involved with.

She died in 1856. I am glad that it looks like she did not have to experience the death of any of her children. With such an abundance of deaths to deal with in her early life, that was a relief to find out. I wish I had a photo of her and old Narcisse. They are the only two great great grandparents that I don’t have photos of. As it is, I only have one photo each of the two sons I descend from.

Of course, photos were not as widespread as they are now. I suppose there could be a portrait of them somewhere out there, but I haven’t heard of such. We’ll just have to be satisfied with the few bits of information about them that we can piece together. So ends the story of Marie Carmelite.

The story continues…

Me and My Sisters

February 22, 2018 Van Leave a comment

I had a hard time deciding what to write about this week. Not really. I just didn’t have anything that stood out this week for my mom’s side of the family. Since I wrote something about the Landry family last week, I thought it should be time to write about her side. I was thinking that the Keys family was due a posting. There were some interesting things going on with the Keys family this week, but there wasn’t a good photo to go along with it.

I also thought that the interesting thing about the Keys this week wouldn’t be interesting to too many people. “What was it?” you ask? Ok, I’ll go ahead and tell you. I had a couple of new DNA matches at Ancestry this week. Actually they are matches to aunt Loris. She’s the only one I tested there until recently. I sent a DNA sample in recently, but haven’t got my results yet. I did a DNA test in 2013, but that was at 23andMe. The interesting thing about the Keys matches is that I think Ancestry has finally passed up 23andMe as far as Keys family members who have tested. There are about 40 descendants of Henry Keys and Martha Cook who have tested. And now that I think about it, if I count all of Julie’s family that have tested, 23andMe still has more.

So the interesting thing that happened this week with the Keys family didn’t really happen. Now I’m glad that this post is not about that! So the other thing that happened this week is that my brother Rob sent me some old photos that he took back in the 70s. They were really fun to see, but I didn’t think I would be using any for Throwback Thursday. Throwback Thursdays are for things that happened a long time ago and the 70s were only 40 years ago.

Then a post that I wrote almost two years ago started getting some attention. A few people liked it and made a comment about it, and that was that. But when I was thinking about a theme for this week, I remembered these seemingly unrelated events. And there was a common theme. The post that got the attention included a photo of Daddy with his sisters, and one of the photos that Rob sent me was a photo of me and mine.

Van, Jamie, Jodie, and Karen in 1974 under the old mimosa tree.

I had even edited it and got rid of the spots and dust that show up on scans of slides. So here is a photo of me and my three sisters. My name is Van and I am the boy in the photo. I estimated that I am thirteen years old in this photo. This is based on the fact that I’m not wearing glasses and I got contacts in 1974.

Then there’s my sister with the longest hair in this photo. That’s my younger sister Jamie and she didn’t have long hair much longer. She cut her hair really short either in late 1974 or early 1975. So that would put the time as the summer of 1974. Jamie and I were in junior high school then. I was probably still a paper boy, too.

Continuing counterclockwise (and to shorter hair) brings you to Jodie. She was the oldest of all of the siblings. She graduated from high school in 1971 and had gone off to college. She was the oldest, yet she lived the shortest amount of time. She died in 1989 at the age of 36.

And that brings us to Karen. She also got contacts in 1974 (as did Al), so I know that it wasn’t just me taking a photo without my glasses so I’d be cuter. (Something I never did! Big clunky black glasses in every photo!) Karen was just starting her senior year in high school (or getting ready to) because she graduated in 1975.

This is my favorite photo of me with my three sisters. Actually it’s the only one that I can think of. I probably looked for one when I wrote those posts about sisters two years ago and couldn’t find one. But now I have one. Thanks, Rob. I’m glad you climbed up in our old mimosa tree all those years ago and snapped that picture of us. It’s a keeper.

Landry

Landrys in Louisiana

February 14, 2018 Van 3 comments

Before there were digital cameras or computers; before there were footprints on the moon; before there was FM radio, photography, or Morse Code; before there were cars, dandy horses, or hot air balloons; and before there was a Declaration of Independence; there were Landrys in Louisiana. Or was it Louisianne or Luiciana? Whatever you want to call it and whoever it was owned by, a Landry was there two hundred and fifty years ago.

In St. Martinville, a wall was erected to honor those Acadian Exiles who made it to Louisiana. You can see our ancestors Augustin Landry, Marie Madeleine Babin, and their son Joseph Ignace on the list.

After spending about 100 years in Acadie, which is the area of modern day Nova Scotia, our Landry family was part of the Grand Derangement that was started in 1755. Thousands of Acadians were driven from their lands by the English. Even though the Acadians tried to maintain a neutrality in their community in North America, they still fell victim to the ravages of wars between England and France in the 1700s. After their homes were burned and they were separated from their families, they were boarded onto ships and carried to places where they were mostly not welcome. Some of them didn’t survive the passage.

Some of those survivors were our Landry family, who at the time consisted of Augustin Landry (b. 1719) and his wife Marie Magdelena Babin (b. 1725). With them were a daughter named Marie and a son named Joseph Marie from his first marriage, a son named Joseph Ignatius (b. 1748-our ancestor), daughter Marguerite, and a son Mathurin. There was another child, too. He was either Louis (according to Daddy), or she was Madeleine (according to the Wall). (I have found further documents that show that there definitely was another daughter named Madeleine. No Louis, so my dad was incorrect this time. It happens.) (2021- Oops. More investigation shows that there was also a Louis Landry born in 1769. So there was a Madeleine and a Louis. Daddy was correct after all!) The family spent some years in Maryland where one or two of the youngest children may have been born.

There were other family members that were exiled in Maryland as well. I don’t know all of the details, but some of Augustin’s close family were there. He actually had two sisters (Bridgitte and Anne Marie) that died in Maryland during their time of exile there. They did not have many fond memories of their stay in Maryland.

Then there was a spark of hope in 1767. The Spanish crown was in possession of land along the Mississippi River and they were looking for people who were willing to populate the area. Somehow the Landry family heard this news and it sounded promising. So they loaded up all of their worldly possessions – two trunks is what they were known to have – and went to Louisiana. And sure enough, they were given a land grant encompassing 8 arpents frontage along the Mississippi River at St. Gabriel (about 6 miles from where I work).

And now we get to the whole reason I am telling this story! I found a document the other day that I was very excited to find. I had read about it on someone’s information about Augustin, but had not seen it. After Augustin had been in Louisiana a couple of years, the Spanish king must have gotten a little worried about the people he had given land to. So once they had grown accustomed to having the land and putting much labor into developing it, they were required to swear their allegiance to Spain. After decades of arguing with the English about oaths of fidelity and trying to maintain neutrality, the only thing it got them was a harsh eviction notice and a dozen years of being nomads. They were probably read to just sign on the dotted line.

August Landry made his mark to signify his unconditional oath of allegiance to Spain in 1769.

In this case, it was more of an “X marks the spot.” Obviously Augustin could not read or write. At least that’s what I infer from someone who cannot write his own name. Wouldn’t that be the first thing you’d learn to write? Not that I’m implying that there was something wrong with him. We are all a product of our time and our experience.

And if he couldn’t read or write, it amazes me how people learned the news of their relatives in different places. There was no TV or telephone, but the Acadians did hear news of their families in Louisiana one way or another. I suppose those that could write wrote to those that could read. The news spread, and many more of them came here to start anew. And the Landrys were among them.

When the cotton gin was invented and made its way to Louisiana, a Landry was there to use it. When the telegraph came around, I’m sure some of those Landrys could read and write and make use of it. The same could be said for many more innovations through the years.

In fact one Landry in Louisiana is typing words on a computer this instant and a short time after that quite a few other Landrys and their kin all over the world will have access to those words. Quite a bit of a difference from the ancestor they will be reading about.

Have read about.

For more information about my Landry family’s Exile experience, check out this post:

From Acadian to Cajun: Part 1 – Landry/Babin

Landry

Back to Beginnings

January 25, 2018 Van Leave a comment

With the anniversary of my dad’s death yesterday and the anniversary of my parents’ joint funeral on the 28th, my mind has still been preoccupied with memories of their last days. I wrote such a sad post last week, that I fantasized about printing it up, ripping it to shreds, and then burning it. It will be a while before I want to read it again. So this week I decided to do something a little lighter. (That should be easy enough to accomplish!)

The subjects of this post will still be my mom and dad. But instead of writing any more about their endings, I thought I would write about their beginnings. Not in any detail, I just want to post a few early photos of them that capture a bit of their personality. The two photos that I picked also happen to be the childhood photos that were included in the slideshow of their lives that was played at their wake and visitation.

Betty Lou Bucklin circa 1939

The first one is this one of my mom. How can you not smile when you see this photo? I think it perfectly captures her playfulness that she allowed those close to her to see. This is young Betty Lou Bucklin when she was around 6 years old or so. She grew up in Hathaway, Louisiana, during the Great Depression and this left her being satisfied with whatever she had. She didn’t desire anything grand or fancy.

She was the second of four daughters and they had a younger brother as well. It was a simple life in the country. Her grandparents had all come from different parts of the country (and one was from England) to homestead the prairie land in that area, so they didn’t really have much either. But they had family and they enjoyed getting together and celebrating with music and festivities.

My mom had this photo on her dresser during her last years. I don’t know of any story associated with it, but it must have been a photo that brought her fond memories of her childhood. That’s one of the main reasons I like it so much, but it is a cute photo in it’s own right.

Bobby Landry around 1936

This next photo is one of my dad when he was probably a little bit older. This is Robert Joseph Landry, Jr. when he was maybe 7 years old or so. From what I can gather he was mostly called Bobbie at this point. It’s what his siblings and cousins always called him. He grew up in Lake Charles, Louisiana, during the Great Depression, but his family was larger with eight children. He was one of four boys and four girls.

The main thing that strikes me about this photo is the brightness of his eyes. Too bad it’s not a color photo, because he had pretty blue eyes. Besides looking a bit inquisitive and intelligent, it also looks like he has a secret. Usually that secret would be the punch line of his most recently discovered joke. He always liked a good joke. And of course they were not suggestive or dirty jokes. Just something that would make him laugh, and he’d share them with others in hopes that they would enjoy them too.

So there you go. My recollections of my parents this week. Something to make you smile. Though I have to admit that it brought a tear to my eyes writing this, because I do miss her impish smile and his hearty laugh. Bittersweet is the appropriate word.

The Longest Hallway

January 17, 2018 Van 2 comments

“How am I going to do this?” I wondered as I walked down the longest hall I had ever walked, “What am I going to say?” Those were the thoughts going through my mind last year as I was wondering how to break the news to my dad that his wife of 64 years had passed away. Those same thoughts crossed my mind the past few days when I was thinking about writing this post.

My mom died on January 19, 2017, at 10:27 am at Lake Charles Memorial Hospital in the presence of my sister Karen and my brother-in-law Brian. She was 83 years old and had been suffering from Alzheimer’s for a few years, but she died from a stroke. It has almost been a year now. Sometimes it seems like it just happened. Other times it doesn’t, because she had been disappearing for a few years before her death.

One of the last outings I had with my parents was a visit to Hathaway on May 23, 2015. It was just a few months before they moved into assisted living.

We moved my parents into assisted living in August of 2015. They had been barely holding their own living in the family home in Jennings. They didn’t want to leave, but things were getting unmanageable. Broken bones, failing memory, and limited movement continued to worsen. But when Mom started taking medicine at any time because she had forgotten that she had already taken the daily dosage, Daddy knew that it was getting to be more than he could manage. He was losing sensations in his hands and feet, so he was starting to need assistance as well. They were in their 80s after all.

So they moved into Brookdale in Lake Charles in a nice little apartment. Karen and Brian brought them to church with them on Sundays and afterward they would all have lunch at their home. My dad can be a particular eater and is not reluctant to let you know how things could be better. As Mom would say, Karen and Brian earned a lot of “brownie points” with all the help they provided Mom and Dad.

The beginning of the end was in October of 2016. Mama fell and broke her hip (she had broken the other one a few years before) and shoulder somehow and she had to be taken to the hospital. My brother Al flew down to help out. When he and Daddy were getting ready to go to the hospital, Daddy fell. It wasn’t so much that he broke anything, it was that he didn’t have the strength to keep from falling.

So when Mom was having surgery to repair her hip and shoulder, Dad was being admitted to see what was going on with his health. We were all a bit baffled about what was going on. He was diagnosed with congestive heart failure and cirrhosis of the liver. Cirrhosis of the liver? He never drank at all his whole life! We were doubtful of this diagnosis at first, but his condition never really improved much. He slept a lot and there was minimal interaction with us when we visited.

He was getting much worse in January and on the 18th I got a call from Karen. She said that Hospice was telling her that Daddy would probably be dying sometime soon. A sobering call, to say the least. We all could see it happening. The grandkids had all come to say their goodbyes and reminisce about times with Grammy and Pappy. So the call was not a complete shock.

The more shocking call was the one I got later that night. Actually it was at 2 o’clock on the morning of the 19th. Mama had fallen and hit her head and the doctors said it could be a “terminal event.” It seemed like everything that was happening with them could be considered terminal events. She had fallen before, and when you went to see her she would smile and say, “Hey!” with a smile as if nothing had happened. So I went back to sleep.

The news the next morning was that there was no improvement. It looked like she had had a stroke and fallen as a result. I decided to go to Lake Charles and thought about letting Karen know I was coming, but to make sure she didn’t let mom “wait” for me. Not that she would or could, but you hear about people doing this. I wouldn’t want her to suffer any longer. She had said she was ready to go. It was a moot point, because I got notification that she had passed away. So Chuck and I went to Lake Charles. Thankfully, Chuck drove.

I was assuming that the hospital called the funeral home and that they would have removed ‘the body’ before we got there. I talked to Brian and he informed me that the hospital had not called the funeral home. He asked if I wanted them to wait until I had a chance to visit her. Of course I wanted them to wait. I shouldn’t say ‘of course,’ because I remember distinctly that Mama did not want to go see her father’s body after he had died. He had donated his body to science, so she wouldn’t have a chance to see him at a funeral. I thought she might want to, but she didn’t. So I didn’t go see him at the time, even though I wanted to.

So we went to say our goodbyes to Mama in room 208 at Memorial. I won’t tell you everything about the visit. Some things were disturbing. Others were not. I kept expecting her to breathe. She didn’t. It was sad. It was a relief. Something funny happened. As we were walking out of the room, I pulled her toe and said, “Bye, Mom.”

We then went downstairs to the emergency room to check on Karen. She had fallen as she was leaving the hospital room and cut her eyebrow. They were waiting for her blood pressure to stabilize. She had been through a lot with everything happening with my parents. We all decided it was best that she go home and get some rest. That left me with the task of informing my dad that Mom had died.

That was not something I had ever considered when dealing with my parents’ failing health. If I ever thought much about it, I would think that if one of them died first, the other one would have been with them when it happened. With my dad being on his ‘death bed’ and receiving the last rites that morning, he was in no condition to go see what was going on with his wife. Karen was in need of rest and Jamie wouldn’t get there until later, so it was up to me.

Did I say that it was a long hall? It really wasn’t. It just seemed really long at the time. I stopped at one point because I got choked up. How was I going to do this? But I had to do it. He needed to know and it had to be one of us. And by that I mean one of his kids. I have a tendency to speak in the plural when talking about my childhood. “We played ghost in the graveyard.” “We ran away from Tez.” You know, the usual childhood stuff. So one of us was going to do it and I was there.

I finally made my way into the room and went to his side. He knew that something was wrong because he had been there when they took her from their room. I think he was waiting to hear the news, maybe hoping for a “Hey” and a smile as if nothing had happened. Not this time. When his eyes locked on mine, I broke down. I just started crying and so did he. I think he knew at that point that things were not the same.

I didn’t say anything at first, we just cried together as he held my hands. I was surprised at how strong his grip was at the time. He had seemed so weak previously. He then asked a few questions about what had happened. I told him that she had had a stroke and had died. She was no longer suffering and he didn’t need to worry about her any longer. That is when the wailing and moaning began. It was heartbreaking.

He and my mom had been happily married for 64 years. How does someone ever deal with something like that? Weeping and saying, “I’m going to miss her,” was just the beginning of it. He did settle down after a while. He was worn out. When Jamie and Allen came in later, he went through the same thing with Jamie. It was heartrendingly touching. Though he did have her in somewhat of a headlock. Jamie was surprised by his strength too. She teasingly reprimanded him by saying, “What do you think this is? Your birthday or something?” It was a phrase he always used for our birthday if we were saying or doing something questionable. It was the last time I heard him laugh.

A little later in the visit, I heard him say, “I’m finished.” It was the last thing I heard him say. He died five days later.

Go Tigers!

December 28, 2017 Van Leave a comment

Sorry about that misleading title. I couldn’t resist. I was trying to think of something to get people’s attention that was related to the story I’m going to write. “Go Tigers!” seems to be attention grabbing. But this article is not about LSU tigers. Not that I have anything against LSU tigers, my dad and I both got our graduate degrees at LSU. The tiger in this story is mainly just a tiger head that my mom made for me when I was a kid.

Jamie and Van Landry in early 1970s.

As you can see from this photo, it wasn’t just a tiger head that she made. She also made tiger-print pajamas for me and a leopard-print nightgown for my younger sister Jamie. What made me think of this photo was the cold weather we are having. I’m not much of a fan of cold weather and never really have been.

I don’t remember if it was that cold on the day that we got this sleepwear, but I do remember that it was a surprise when we got home from school. And it wasn’t a hand-me-down! Something new and decidedly fun. Who wouldn’t want tiger-striped pajamas? Any LSU fan would surely agree. Of course, I had no awareness of LSU’s mascot at the time. I just liked my new flannel pajamas with the matching tiger head. It was warm and cozy and something that our mama had made us.

Another warm memory of my mom was a few years later on. When I was in junior high, I had a paper route in the neighborhood. And we were like the post – neither rain, nor sleet, nor blah blah blah could keep us from delivering those newspapers. So every day after school – while reruns of “Star Trek” were playing mind you (now that’s dedication!) – I would faithfully go out and deliver my paper route. Sometimes I would even do my brother’s as well if he had something to do!

Betty Lou Bucklin Landry in the 1960s.

During the winter it could get particularly cold riding that old Schwinn bicycle in the elements. If it was raining, I would really be miserable. I don’t know how often she would do this, but I remember my mom having a warm blanket to wrap around me when I would finish my paper route. I’m not sure if she kept the blanket warm in the dryer or just started it running when I got home, but I remember it being nice and toasty and definitely comforting.

I’m sure that my brothers and sisters have warm memories of my mom as well. It’s not like I was the only one she treated that way. I think she loved being a mom, taking care of her children and showing them that she loved them. This carried on to her grandchildren as well.

Though later in life her failing memory caused her to be reticent in dealing with people, sometimes even her children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. Too bad they weren’t able to experience the full warmth of her love. It was a wonderful thing.

The Ancient Family Plot

December 14, 2017 Van One comment

Van Landry taking selfie with great great great grandfather Amedee Bujol at St. John the Baptist Catholic Cemetery in Brusly, Louisiana.

Most of my posts are about photos of my ancestors, which is somewhat limiting because photography hasn’t been around very long, genealogically speaking. I don’t have any photos of my great great great grandparents. I have photos of most of my great great grandparents. The only set of great great grandparents that I don’t have photos of happen to also be my great great great grandparents.

The couple in question are Narcisse Landry and his wife Marie Carmelite Hebert Landry. They were Pee Paw’s (my paternal grandfather) grandparents and Mee Maw’s (my paternal grandmother) great grandparents. There, that makes everything clear.

Since I don’t have photos of the individual, sometimes I’ll take selfies with their headstone. Isn’t that sweet? Or is it morbid? Either way, I do it. I have one of myself with Martha Ann Cook Keys and now I have one with Amedee Bujol.

I took this photo almost two weeks ago. It was a Sunday afternoon and I was thinking to myself, “I want to take a picture of myself with dead people!” No, not really. I had a few spare hours and thought I’d take a quick hop across the Mighty Mississip to check out the Brusly cemetery. I knew that we had some ancestors buried out there and it was a nice overcast day. Cemeteries are downright miserable in the summer. Out in the burning heat and there are usually no trees for shade.

Graves of several family members are located in this small area of the cemetery.

But on a day like that, it is perfect for ‘digging up bones’ as my mom liked to call it. It took me maybe 15 minutes to get from my house to the spot that I parked in that you see in this photo. I just pulled in a little ways into the graveyard and got out of my car to start looking.

It didn’t take long to find what I was looking for. I actually couldn’t have parked any closer. The main person I was looking for was 1) Marie Francoise Leveque Bujol, my 4th great grandmother. Francoise was the mother of 2)Amedee from the selfie and he was the father of Amelie ‘Belite’ Bujol who married Trasimond Landry. They were the parents of Marie Therese Landry Patureau, who was Mee Maw’s mother that died in 1909.

I had seen photos of Francoise’s headstone, so I knew what to look for. The marker has the writing “Veuve Sylvester Bujol” which means the widow of Sylvester Bujol. I didn’t see his headstone, but I know that he died in 1824. With her death given as 1875, that means she had been a widow for over 50 years when she died.

Her son Amedee’s wife Anna Adele Landry also outlived her husband. She was known as the Veuve Bujol as well and is referred as such in the book about Trasimond Landry called “The Tirailleurs.” Her grave is not at this cemetery. (2020 Update – I found the death notice for Anna Adele Bujol, so now I know that she outlived her husband by almost 42 years. It states that she was buried in this cemetery, yet I haven’t been able to find it.)

It is rumored that Trasimond is buried at this cemetery. There is a headstone for his mother 3) Marie Carmelite Hebert Landry. She was the wife of Narcisse Landry. The rumor also states that Narcisse could be buried here as well. The rumor comes from family members who have been searching for those graves. When you look at Marie Carmelite’s grave, you can see plenty of real estate around it. It is thought that Narcisse and Trasimond are buried on either side of her.

Marie Carmelite and Narcisse are my great great grandparents because they are the father of Simon Alcide Landry. He moved to the western part of the state in the mid to late 1880s with his family and he was buried in Lake Charles.

And though Narcisse may not have been buried in the St. John the Baptist Catholic Cemetery, we know for sure that some of his brothers were. I found two of their graves.

The most important brother that I found was Narcisse’s half brother 5) Emmanuel Landry. The reason I claim his importance is because I also descend from Emmanuel. He was the father of the Anna Adele that I mentioned earlier. Not only that, he was the father of Clarissa Doralise and Marguerite ‘Baselite’ Landry, the two wives of my great great grandfather Joseph August Leveque (also buried in Lake Charles).

His wife 4) Celeste Bruneteau Landry’s headstone is at this cemetery as well. As you can see from the photos, they are large concrete graves that are above the ground. Sitting on top of Celeste’s grave was a broken marker for Valerien Landry. His grave must be nearby. He was another brother of Narcisse Landry. I don’t descend from him. Imagine that.

So I descend from Narcisse through two of his sons. Then I descend from his half brother Emmanuel through two daughters. Through these connections, I am my own double half 5th cousin once removed. And that’s not all. I descend through Narcisse’s brother Onezime through his daughter Marie Emma Landry, the wife of the Patureau immigrant Pierre Ferdinand. They are the progenitors for all of the Patureaus in southern Louisiana that I know of.

J. H. Amedee Bujol died June 28, 1857, in his 42nd year. He was full of honor, esteemed, loyal, always sincere. He was always a good son, a good husband, and a good father. (roughly translated)

So the people in these graves are part of the great entanglements in my family tree. I can’t really complain about any of that, because if any of that would have been different, I wouldn’t be here. And neither would a lot of you reading this.

It’s always interesting to me to see the final resting place of some of my people. Even though it is a place for the dead, I know that many of my family lived and breathed at this same location. Mourning their loved ones who came before them. The cycle continues.

I thought I’d put the family tree for my paternal grandmother on here since all of the graves I found are in her tree. I also thought I’d add the numbers that are associated with the graves pictured in the second photo on this post.

Family tree showing my grandmother’s ancestors. One correction – I have since found that her maternal great grandmother Anna Adele Landry died on Mar. 13, 1899.

Follow-up Friday: From Betty to Bob – I’m Yours

December 8, 2017 Van Leave a comment

“Follow-up Friday?” you ask, “What’s that?” Well I’ll tell you what it is. It’s when you obtain some added information that you want to add to your latest post, but you’re too eager to wait for Surplus Sunday. I know that I made it very clear in my most recent post that you would not be reading any long lost love letters, but I can now happily report that I was wrong. This is the best thing that I’ve ever been wrong about!

My sister Jamie and I had discussed those long lost letters during the Thanksgiving holiday and neither of us had any idea where those letters had gone to. We assumed that either our mom or dad had destroyed the letters after we found them and read them. So I wrote my post on Wednesday and shared it with y’all.

Then this morning I woke up and found a text from Jamie. She had found a few letters! I was so excited and when I read them I have to admit that I got a bit choked up. I also laughed a bit because the letters my mom wrote have quite a bit of humorous points to them. I was relieved that at least a few letters survived. From the letters that did survive, it’s clear that they were writing to each other daily. It is also clear that they were in love.

His letter was written on July 5, 1952, (which is exactly 10 years before our Jamie was born) and he starts out with a “Hi, Baby.” Not long after that he says, “I sure miss you, cutey.” He talks about how busy he is with training and not sure he will be able to write every day, but don’t be surprised if some day there isn’t a letter. (This sets up for a funny exchange in the next letter.) He then signs off, “All my love.”

I’m not sure of the date of the letter mom wrote, but it starts with “Hi Honey.” This is a term of endearment that they both called each other for the rest of their lives. I had been wondering if it had been used that far back, and now I know. The letter continues as a response to his letter about not writing daily.

She was not expecting a letter and her sister Alma must have known this. So when Alma went to check on the mail and saw a letter from Bob, she didn’t let Betty Lou know right away. She then asked mom if she’d rather look through the new catalog or read the new letter from her beau. Mom says in the letter, “I could have choked her.” But she doesn’t, because she is “so nice.” Now that got me giggling again.

But the rest of the letter is full of the same funny and sweet content. She uses terms that she did for the rest of her life. She said that she was gaining a “teeniny” bit of weight. She was glad of that because she had lost weight because she was so lonesome.

As you can tell, I really enjoyed seeing these old letters that I had thought destroyed. They do give a bit of a window back to the time when they were young, in love, and separated by some distance. I’ll let you read them now, if you have a mind to.

Letter written on July 5, 1952, by Bob Landry who was stationed at Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonio for basic training. He was writing back home to his fiancee Betty Lou Bucklin.

Saturday July 5, 1952

Hi Baby,

Watcha know? We are now having/ our first free time from 7 to 9 P.M. I/ sure miss you, cutey. Our basic is/ only 8 weeks. So maybe around Sept./ Huh, Hon?

If I miss a day or two writing/ don’t be surprised. You can’t tell/ how long it’ll be until there’s time/ to write another letter. These ser-/geants are very unpredictable.

Our T. I. (Technical Instructor) is/ O.K. I will probably get transfered/Into a Band Squadron next/ week.

I’ll hafta close now. I have/ lots to do.

Be Good

All my love,

Bob

Page 1 of 2

Wed. nite 9:30

Hi Honey,

Hows my man tonight./ Thought you said I wouldn’t get/ a letter this morn. I didn’t/ expect one. Alma got the mail/ + she just fooled around and/ pretty soon she asked if I’d/ rather look at the new catalog/ or read your letter. I could/ had choked her. But I didn’t/ cause I’m so nice, you know.

I sure do like that picture./ Every time I look at it it/ looks more fanciful. Yummy!

Just got back from an/ ice cream social. Had a bunch of fun. Got to see all my old/ gal friends. Got to tell them/ all about my darling + showed/ them some pictures of you. We/ really gabbed. One of the other/ girls has her a Bob too but I/ bet he ain’t as sweet as mine. (End of page one)

page 2 of 2

(page 2) Didn’t do much today. Just/ worked. Hoed this morn + worked/ in the house the rest of the day.

I believe I’m gaining a teeniny/ bit of weight. It’s about time./ I weighed less that I have in 3 or 4 years. Everybody thought I looked skinny. I’ll probably get it back. I feel better. I/ believe I was just too lonesome -/ being with the family makes/ it much easier. anyhow I be/ doing good for myself now.

I reckon that’s all the/ news I can think up. Guess/ I’ll go to bed. Sleep tight honey.

Be real good.

I love you, Bob

I’m yours

Betty Lou

(end of letters)

So there you go. That’s what remains of the long lost love letters. I can picture my mom being “beside herself” because of what her sister Alma pulled on her. I’m sure she cursed her out! Not really, that wasn’t her style. She probably said something like, “You stinker, you!” and went to her room to read her latest letter. I’m sure Alma got a good chuckle out of it. I know I did. I hope you did too.

Love Letters Lost

December 6, 2017 Van Leave a comment

Before you get too excited that you are going to be reading some long lost letters that have been found, I want to tell you that you won’t. The letters are still lost. At least to me. Some of the contents of the letters are still available, but the letters themselves have been lost or maybe just destroyed. Yes, they could have been intentionally destroyed!

The letters I’m talking about were letters written by my parents in 1952. Daddy went off to basic training for the Air Force in San Antonio after he and my mom were engaged to be married. I’m sure they missed each other when they were miles apart and my mom was not someone who liked to talk on the phone much. Besides, it was expensive to make long distance calls in those days. There weren’t many plans to choose from! So they sent letters to each other and included photos of some of the things they were doing.

Of course the main thing that was included were pictures of themselves for their enfianced. This is my mom Betty Lou Bucklin looking sweet for her beau Bob Landry. I used to always think of my mom as a naive young girl who got lost easily and wasn’t very assertive.

But in retrospect, I think I was wrong. My mom got exactly what she wanted out of life. Her dream was to find a nice young man that she would want to marry, have lots of children, and have a family band together. She didn’t hang around her quaint little country home town of Hathaway to see what would happen. She went to the big city of Lake Charles and gave herself an option of an education to fall back on as a standby. The standby was never needed.

This second shot is a photo Betty Lou with her sisters Loris and Alma. This must have been in the summer of 1952, which was a few months before my parents’ marriage in early November. On the back of this photo my mom wrote “anything to make you happy.” I suppose my dad must have appreciated these photos, because he saved them and we’re looking at them today.

Here is one of the photos that he sent to her. This was taken at Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonio in August of 1952. His photos were a little more serious than my mom’s. After all, he was a young man in training for the military. That’s pretty serious business.

I’m not really sure how frequently they wrote to each other, but it was nowhere near what would be exchanged between people nowadays. They’d be sending texts and photos every day. Times were a bit different then.

One of the other differences is that they didn’t have the cloud to save all of their information for them. They had to put the photos in boxes or albums and the letters in a file or drawer somewhere. They did do that, because me and my sister Jamie came across those letters years ago. And being the nosy children that we were back then, we opened up those letters and read them. I don’t really remember much about the contents of the letters, but I do remember giggling a lot.

We got into trouble for that, which was another thing we giggled about. But we never saw those letters ever again. When we cleared out my parents house, we kept an eye out for them, but we could not find them. I’m afraid that I will never see them again. I’m not giggling about that.

Lagniappe – Thought I would add these two other photos to this post. One of them is my mom with her younger brother Austin. The other one is my mom’s Pin Up photo. A photo of her in a two piece swimsuit.

Update! Don’t want to give a spoiler, but that lack of a giggle was wiped off my face.

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