From Acadian to Cajun: Part 11 – The Ones That Didn’t Make it

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It’s time to finish up my Acadian to Cajun series that I wrote throughout the year 2020.  I’ve covered all of the lines of my family that came to Louisiana from Acadie.  I’ve learned a lot while writing this series.  Before I started doing the research, I only knew that my family lines had been deported to Maryland and France.  I discovered that other family lines were deported to Connecticut, Pennsylvania, Virginia, and Massachusetts.  Some other family members had made their way to Ile St. Jean which was under French rule until 1758.  From those places, they made their way to England, France, and St. Domingue (Haiti) before arriving in Louisiana –  if they survived long enough. 

It’s time to talk about the ones that didn’t make it.  Obviously the ones that I descend from that didn’t make it were adults who had children already.  I didn’t talk about all of the family members who were affected by the Grand Derangement in the original installments.  Either I didn’t know about them or I didn’t want to overly complicate the stories at the time.  But they deserve a mention.

Installment 1 was about the extended families of Augustin Landry and Marie Madeleine Babin.

From Installment 1 of my Acadian to Cajun series, I’ve already talked about Pierre Landry.  He was the father of Augustin Landry who brought his family to Louisiana by way of Upper Marlboro, Maryland.  I talked about him in my post about Landry Grandfathers.  Augustin’s wife was Marie Magdelena Babin and her mother was Marguerite Bourg.  I talked about Marguerite in Installment 10.  But I didn’t talk about  Marguerite’s father Alexandre Bourg who was still alive at the time of the Grand Derangement. 

Can you imagine your whole life turning upside down  at the age of 84?  That’s what happened to Alexandre.  He moved to Ile St. Jean sometime in the early 1750s.  He was living with his daughter Anne and her husband Joseph LeBlanc in 1752 in Port Toulouse.  He somehow escaped being Exiled after the fall of Louisbourg in 1758.  He had been a royal notary for many years, so he may have still had some political connections on both the French and English sides of the conflict.  He was 87 years old at the time.  He was 89 years old when he died in 1760 in Richiboucton, New Brunswick, Canada.

Installment 2 covered the family of Antoine Breau and Marguerite Landry. Antoine’s mother Claire Trahan is listed below him. I could find no information about the ancestors of Marguerite Landry.

In Installment 2, I talked about the Charles Breaux family who was Exiled to Port Tobacco, Maryland, in 1755.  Charles died in Port Tobacco sometime around between 1763 and 1765.  His wife Claire Trahan made it to Louisiana where she lived a short while.  Claire’s mother was Marie Helene Pellerin and she was alive in 1755, but she was living in Ile St. Jean which was still under French rule.  She died August 27, 1756, at the age of 87.  She was my 7x great grandmother.

In Installment 3, I talked about the Pierre Breaux family.  Pierre was the brother of Charles Breaux.  Some of his family were also Exiled to Port Tobacco and Pierre died before 1763.  In the meantime his son Honore had been deported to Virginia and was sent on to England and France.  He eventually married Elizabeth LeBlanc.  She was the daughter of Victor LeBlanc and Marie Aucoin.  I talked about the tragic deaths of Marie, her parents, and two of her young children by her second husband Gregoire Maillet.

Installment 3 was about Honore Braud, Elisabeth Le Blanc, and their extended families

But I didn’t tell you anything about Victor LeBlanc’s family.  I doubt that anybody noticed because I was talking about so many people.  The other reason I didn’t write about it was that I wasn’t sure about his family.  When I looked around for information about him, I found different parents than what I had .  My dad had obtained that information from Acadian researcher Bona Arnsenault.  But recently more information was discovered that showed he was from a different family.  I needed time to “Let go of” his previous parents and make the changes. 

His parents were Pierre ‘dit Pinou’ LeBlanc (1685-1769) and Francoise Landry (1693-1767).  I descend from siblings of both of them, so there were no new lines to add to the tree.  Francoise was the sister of Pierre Landry who I mentioned earlier.  Pierre LeBlanc and Francoise Landry were Exiled to Shrewsbury, Massachusetts. They both showed up on a 1757 Census of Acadian Exiles, as well as another one conducted in 1763.  After the Seven Year War was over, many of the Acadian Exiles in Massachusetts decided to return to Canada.   Around May 17, 1767, Pierre and Francoise, along with the family of their daughter Angelique (married to Germaine Dupuis, the first cousin of my ancestor Joseph Dupuis from Installment 9), boarded the schooner Abigail bound for Quebec.  They arrived in Quebec on June 18.  Sadly, Francoise died a few months later on October 3, 1767, in Lavaltrie, Quebec, at the age of 74.  Pierre died on October 22, 1769, in Montreal at the age of 84.

Pierre Paul Hebert’s and Marguerite LeBlanc’s families were discussed in Installment 4.

In Installment 4, we talked about the Hebert family.  They were Exiled to Georgetown, Maryland.  If you’re keeping track, my ancestors were deported to four locations in Maryland:  Upper Marlboro, Port Tobacco, Oxford, and Georgetown.  They seemed comparatively the safest places to be Exiled.  I could be biased since my ancestors survived being deported there.  We descend from survivors of catastrophes through the ages.  Just because a person is a Holocaust survivor doesn’t mean that they had an easy time of it.  And it’s not like they had a choice.

I mentioned in that installment that Marguerite LeBlanc (the wife of Pierre Paul Hebert) was the daughter of Antoine LeBlanc and Marie Babin.  I am a bit more sure of her parentage than back then and have found out more information about them.  To make things perfectly clear, I found out that Antoine LeBlanc and Victor LeBlanc were double first cousins.  That means that his father Antoine was the brother of Pierre ‘dit Pinou’ LeBlanc and his mother Anne Landry was the sister of Francoise Landry.  Antoine LeBlanc (the grandfather of Marguerite) died before the Grand Derangement in 1739 in Grand Pre, Acadie.  His wife Anne Landry (my ancestor) was Exiled to Massachusetts like her sister.  She also died in Quebec in 1767 like her sister.  Anne was 79 years old when she died.  The younger Antoine LeBlanc (father of Marguerite) died in 1744 at less than 40 years of age.  It is believed that his wife Marie Babin (my ancestor) was deported to Virginia, which is very unfortunate.  They were sent on to England where they were treated poorly.  Many of them suffered from smallpox and died.  It looks like Marie was one of those that died in 1756 in that group.

Installment 5 discussed the families of Joseph Bourg and Marie Magdelene Granger.

In Installment 5, I told you about the very tragic story of Magdelene Granger, my 6x great grandmother.  Her first marriage was to Alain Bujol.  They had two children together in Ile St. Jean, but were later deported in 1758 at the fall of Louisbourg.  She was the only survivor of her little family due to the circumstances of being Exiled.  I found out that her father Joseph Granger was alive at the time of the initial deportations in 1755.  I descend from his first wife Anne Richard who died in 1751.  Joseph remarried shortly after that (he was 54 years old) to a Marguerite Gautrot.  They had two sons before the deportations began.  Joseph’s family was deported  to Virginia. (cue the somber music) They were on a ship that arrived in England in June of 1756.  There was no sweet reunion for Joseph and Magdelene.  When she was married in 1760, Joseph is listed as deceased.  She is my inspiration for perseverance! 

Installments 6 and 7 were about the families of the brothers Etienne and Joseph Bugeaud. I descend from both of them.

In Installment 6, Joseph Bujol and Anne LeBlanc were sent into Exile with their family to Oxford, Maryland.  I bet you were relieved to hear that they weren’t sent to Virginia!  This history is so full of tragedies.  Thankfully this little family fared well during their time in Exile.  The family stayed intact and actually grew during their time in Maryland.  This wasn’t true for their extended families.  Anne’s mother Jeanne Bourgeois was Exiled to Cambridge, Massachusetts.  She arrived in December 1755 and it was the last that was heard of her.  Three of her children died in Liverpool, England, in 1756 and another one died in France in 1759.  Jeanne was probably not aware of their deaths since those events happened across the ocean.  We know that she had died before the 1763 Census at the age of about 70.

The story in Installment 7 was about Joseph Bujol’s brother Etienne and his wife Anne Forest.  Anne was another of those with a tragic story.  She lost her first husband during the Exile.  What I didn’t mention in that installment was the fate of her parents Pierre Forest and Madelaine Babin.  They were alive when the Grand Derangement began and they were deported to Weymouth, Massachusetts.  He died within the first year of Exile at the age of 62.  Madelaine shows up on the November 10, 1756, Census in Weymouth as a widow.  There are no records of her after that time.  So she probably died shortly after that before the age of 60.

Joseph and Etienne’s extended family was not Exiled during the initial deportations of 1756.  They had several younger brothers and sisters who moved to Ile St. Jean with their parents Joseph Bujol and Josette Landry.  They were there by the time of the Census of 1752.  So while Joseph the younger and Etienne were Exiled with their families in 1755, other family members were able to stay at Ile St. Jean until 1758.  It was at this point that Joseph the elder died.  Either he died prior to the deportation or as a result of it.  He was 59 years old.  Josette and some of her children fled north with the help of a son-in-law who was part of the Acadian militia.  They surrendered to the British and were held in Nova Scotia until the end of the Seven Year War.  They made their way to Quebec and settled there.  Josette eventually died on June 8, 1778, in Bonaventure, Quebec, at the age of 77.  She did not see her sons Joseph and Etienne during the last 22 years of her life.

So that’s it.  I previously covered the extended families of the ancestors I discussed in Installments 8, 9, and 10.  I don’t think I’ll ever think of the Grand Derangement or even Acadie in the same way ever again.  Hopefully I’ll always be aware of the difficulties my ancestors had to endure in order for me to be able to call myself a Cajun.  Even though those I mentioned in this post didn’t survive the Exile to make it to Louisiana, I will still consider them honorary Cajuns!  I think of it as a title of respect and they definitely deserve it.

For other installments of the “From Acadian to Cajun” series, click on the following links:

From Acadian to Cajun: Part 1 – Landry/Babin

From Acadian to Cajun: Part 2 – Breau/Trahan

From Acadian to Cajun: Part 3 – Braud/LeBlanc/Gauterot/Aucoin

From Acadian to Cajun: Part 4 – Hebert/Melanson

From Acadian to Cajun: Part 5 – Bourg/Granger

From Acadian to Cajun: Part 6 – Bujol/LeBlanc

From Acadian to Cajun: Part 7 – Foret/Bujol

From Acadian to Cajun: Part 8 – Hernandez/Babin

From Acadian to Cajun: Part 9 – Dupuis/Dugas

From Acadian to Cajun: Part 10 – Bourg/Babin/Landry

Mitochondrial Sisters

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Fred and Myrtle Phenice Bucklin family circa 1950 in Hathaway, Louisiana.  The children from left to right are Sylvia, Loris, Austin, Alma, and my mom Betty Lou.

This post is coming together from several things that I’ve been working on lately.  I’ve been editing a lot of old photos from different eras.  It’s also time to look at my mom’s side of the family.  I think I’ve neglected them a bit lately.  I did post this really nice edited photo of my mom’s childhood family recently just to give that side of my family a little bit of family history crumbs.  But it wasn’t a bona fide post.  I’m including it in this post to make it official!

The other thing that helped me to focus the theme for this week was a new DNA match at 23andMe.   He is a grandson of Aunt Marguerite, my grandmother Myrtle Phenice Bucklin’s younger sister.  Since he matches through his mother as I do, our mitochondrial DNA (mtDNA) is the same.  The mtDNA is passed on from mothers to their children without any changes most of the time.  From time to time there are mutations.  Since 23andMe only gives an estimate of the mtDNA and those estimates are slightly different,  I’ll just say that our designation is H1.  Some of the close relatives get an -n or an -h at the end, but we’re all basically in the very common group H1.

Grace Phenice Sowder, Myrtle Phenice Bucklin, and Marguerite Phenice Hill in their young adulthood.

I also had edited photos of both Marguerite and their other sister Grace.  I recently got a blog comment from Grace’s nephew by her husband Ray Sowder.  He commented about how Grace seemed to be out of his uncle’s league as far as looks are concerned.  I have to admit, those Phenice sisters were attractive young women.  I was thinking of sharing those photo edits, as well as a photo of my own sisters that I had completed recently.  It made me realize that there are several generations along this maternal line with three or more sisters.  So I decided to make this post about all of those mitochondrial sisters.

Alma Bucklin Waldorf, Marguerite Phenice Hill, Betty Lou Bucklin Landry (my mom), Myrtle Phenice Bucklin (my grandmother), Loris Bucklin Woolley, and Sylvia Bucklin Pilcher at Grandma’s house on Alice Street in Jennings, Louisiana, on January 22, 1984.

I found several photos of my mom with one or two of her sisters, but none of just the four sisters by themselves.  I also wanted one of them as adults.  The one I decided on was this photo of Grandma with her sister Marguerite and her four daughters after the funeral of Grandpa in 1984.  It’s a good photo of all of these H1 carriers.  It includes two of the generations that are the focus of this post.  Too bad they didn’t think to include some of the granddaughters in this photo, but that wasn’t the focus on that day.  This was one of the most difficult times in my Grandma’s life and it’s nice to see her surrounded by those she cared about the most.

There are two generations before and after these two and I keep changing my mind about which two I will talk about next.  I suppose I will go with the previous generation since I’ve shared those photos before.  I’ll save the new photos (in all living color!) for the end.

Rosetta Ruth Keys Bryan, Daisy Keys Phenice, Mabel Keys Miller in 1894.

So that brings us to the Keys sisters Daisy, Ruth, and Mabel.  I’ve posted about them previously.  They all immigrated to Louisiana from England with their mother and brothers in July 1887.  Ruth lived in Jennings, Daisy lived in Hathaway, and Mabel lived in Kinder.  They stayed pretty close to where they originally settled after arriving in the United States.

Those lovely girls were the daughters of Martha Cook Keys, the brave woman that brought her five children to America after her husband had passed away.  She was a dressmaker and shop owner in London at a time when a revolution in clothing manufacturing was taking place.  I always took it for granted that she made her clothes with a sewing machine – a machine that seems so common.  But it was a newfangled thing back then.  Before that, people went through the painstankling process of sewing everything by hand.  She was part of a revolution.  I found this out from a TV program I saw when I took a break from writing this post to take a lunch break.  I have a bit more respect for old Martha now.

Martha Cook Keys and Henrietta Cook Keys were from Great Wigsborough, Essex, England. They were married to Keys brothers.

I only have one photo for both of Martha and her sister.  I think the one of Martha is a photo of a painting.  At least we have something!  She was born in 1836 in Great Wigsborough, Essex.  She was the first child of Job Cook and Ruth Horsnell. Henrietta was born in 1839 and she was the last child of Job and Ruth.  That’s because Job died the following year at the age of 38 from “phrenitis.”  Otherwise I’m sure there would have been at least one more daughter.  All the other generations that we know of had three or more daughters.  Henrietta passed that H1 down to the present also.  I have a DNA match that came directly down from her through a line of daughters.

Ruth (1816-1880) was the daughter of William Horsnell and his wife Ann (1774-1859).  We don’t know Ann’s last name.  Since I don’t know her last name, and she is the originator of the H1 DNA for all of these women, I think I may put her last name as H1.  Somehow that seems appropriate.  Ruth had two sisters, so Ann started the trend of having three or more daughters along this line.  It could have been started earlier, but we don’t know that history.

Jamie, Jodie, and Karen in 1978

Jamie Landry Perry, Jodie Landry Rhodes, and Karen Landry Fontenot on Christmas Eve 1978 in Jennings, Louisiana.

Let’s get back to the more modern era.  I had three sisters.  My two older sisters have died.  My sister Karen died this year, so that was another reason I wanted to write this post about sisters.  This photo was a photo that my parents had on a small table in their living room for many years.  It’s from 1978 and it’s a good photo of all three of my sisters.  I can see why Mama wanted it where she could see it frequently.

Jodie did not continue the tradition of three daughters.  She had two children and they were both boys.  Karen did a little better.  She started out with a son, but then did better by having two daughters.  (Just kidding, James!)  Then Jamie decided that she had to keep the tradition alive.  She had three daughters.  She really did have three daughters, but you surely know I’m joking about her trying to keep up a tradition.  It’s just a trend that happened through the years.  Mostly it was the result of large families and the law of averages.  If you have lots of children, about half of them will be female.

Sarah, Beth, and Jill Perry

Sarah, Beth, and Jill Perry in November 2020 in League City, Texas.

Here is a very recent photo of Jamie’s three Perry girls.  This was taken last month at the wedding of her youngest daughter Beth.  Weddings and funerals are usually such big family events for us, but this was the year of Covid.  Karen’s funeral had very limited attendance due to precautions for the virus.  The high point was that the cousins in Lake Charles gathered around in the distance at the graveyard to show their love and support.

Beth and Glen’s wedding was postponed from the spring because of the pandemic.  I was looking forward to the family getting together for their wedding in early November.  But Covid struck again and Allen (the father of the bride) came down with a positive test.  So we had to have a virtual attendance to the event.  It’s not as good as being there in person, but it’s much better than missing the whole thing!

Now that she’s married, she can start thinking about carrying on that tradition!  I know, I know.  It’s not really a tradition, but we can’t let that stop her.  Jill already has one daughter.  They could make it fun – like it’s a contest or game.  Our family likes games.

Let the H1 continue!

Christmas Eve at Mee Maw’s

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Landry Christmas 1966

Christmas Eve at Mee Maw’s in 1966.  That would be Germaine Erie Patureau Landry’s home in Lake Charles, Louisiana.

Last week I talked about one of the traditions of our family during the 1960s.  That one involved the music at the junior high school where my dad taught in Jennings, Louisiana.  This week I’m looking at the other family traditions from that same time period.  I realized a few weeks ago that I really hadn’t written much about Christmas traditions in the Landry household, even at the Christmas time of year.  I also realized I had lots of Christmas photos that need to be shared.

So that’s what I’m doing – sharing some Christmas cheer by way of old family photos.  It’s what you do on a family history blog, right?  And the big event for the Landry family aunts, uncles, and cousins was the Christmas Eve get together at Mee Maw’s house.  As you can see from the photos, there were lots of family members!  My dad was Robert Joseph Landry – better known as Bobbie by the family – and he was from a family of eight children.  His mom was Erie Patureau Landry and she was the matriarch of this large group.  And she loved family.

The Christmas Eve get together in 1967.

She had to if she was willing to have this large group of people in her house!  It started out with her, her children, and her daughters- in-law and sons-in-law.  That’s seventeen people, and by the time I was born, there at least fifteen grandchildren.  It continued to grow for a while longer, so in 1966 there were lots of excited little children around.  What’s even more amazing is that she had a gift for every one of her grandchildren at this event.  And since we were Catholic, we all had godparents.  So we got gifts from our godparents as well.  At some point we drew names and bought gifts for the person we picked.  That’s a lot of gifts in one place!  I remember how the people handing out gifts had to be careful not to step on anyone or anybody’s newly opened present!

From an old family recipe. Pate’ de fois gras made by Greg Raley (#73 in photos). He and my brother Rob are two from my generation that are keeping the tradition alive.

The other part of this get together was the food.  Everyone brought food to share with the family.  There was always plenty to eat and it was all tasty.  One thing that we used to have at some of these events seems to be unique to my family.  My grandmother had an old family recipe for pate de fois gras.  It was a spread made with goose or pork livers.  I never have liked liver, but I did like the pate.  My dad would make it and we would make sandwiches with it and eat it for breakfast.  We would eat our liver pie sandwiches after dipping them in coffee milk.  Sometimes my dad and his siblings would bring a sampling of their latest batch and compare it with each other.  I’m trying to find out the origin of this recipe, so if any extended family are familiar with the history, let me know.  I’ve been wondering if it comes from our Leveque line.

When it was getting later at these Christmas Eve gatherings, I remember going outside with the cousins and looking up in the sky to see what could be seen.  Some of the older ones would say, “Is that Santa there?”  I would look to see if there was a telling red light trailing across the sky.  Those were such days of wonder and longing.  Waiting for Christmas day seemed like forever.  The family gatherings were such a highlight.

I think of those events from time to time when I’m doing my family research.  With my dad’s ancestry being French and Acadian, the old records are written in French.  I’m able to make out most of what is written on a birth or baptism record.  The first word I was familiar with was the word for godfather – parrain.  That’s because I remember getting a gift from Uncle Johnny (my godfather) one Christmas and it said it was from “Your Parrain.”  I started learning about my family history at a young age!  But I wouldn’t enjoy my family history as much without having such great family memories of my own to recall.

Merry Christmas everyone!

IDs –  I can’t leave without letting you know the names of everyone in the photos.  I got most of them, but some I couldn’t tell.  That’s bad when I can tell who is who in photos of my great grandparents’ siblings, but can’t tell who my own first cousins are from 50 years ago.  Like I said, there are so many of them.  And not all of them are looking at the camera.  I can’t see some faces clearly, so I appreciate any help with identifications.  I went ahead and made a list of names and used the numbering system of the list for both photos.

List of my Mee Maw and her children and grandchildren

Christmas in the 1960s in Jennings

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One of the memorable things for me while growing up in the small town of Jennings, Louisiana, was the Christmas Concert at Northside Junior High School.  At least I think it was a Christmas Concert.  My dad was Bob Landry, the man – the legend.  Sorry.  I had to put that in there.  One time I was talking about my childhood and I mentioned my dad.  The person stopped me and said, “Your dad is Bob Landry?  He’s a legend!” (or something similar) Actually he was the chorus and band director at the junior high school for many years.  He had been in Elton, Louisiana, for two years and then started in Jennings in 1965.  I mentioned that in a previous post and talked about the summer band program that was so memorable.

Jennings Northside Junior High School gym circa 1965.

But the thing I didn’t mention was the Christmas Concert.  I saved that for later.  That time is now.  I even have a photo to go with the story.  It’s from the same time period, but I don’t think it’s from a Christmas Concert.  The photo looks more like an end of the year Awards Ceremony.  My dad is at the mic talking about something.  He’s directly behind a table that has two trophies on it.  I’m not sure what that was about, but they look like they could be for music.  I can see that one of them has a harp symbol for musical instruments on top of it. (Directly below one of his elbows.)

I also see Lou Gaudet sitting down next to the flag behind him.   There also seems to be some other teachers or administrators for the school sitting on chairs  in the front.  Behind them is the band.  I can recognize my oldest sister Jodie in a blue dress between my dad and the tuba.  Then to the right is the chorus.  I’m sure they’re all ready to make some music. 

If this was the Christmas Concert I’d know for sure one of the songs they would be singing.  It seems like we sang it every year.  We loved singing it.  It had some interesting harmonies and echoes, and the older guys wanted to be the ones singing, “Bum pa dum pa dum, dum dum” in a deep voice.  The name of the song was  “The Carol of the Star.”  At least that’s what we called it.  It’s a great song and I’ve never heard it since that time from any other place.  I’ve searched for the song for years.  It seems like I’ve searched for it online for over 15 years.  And I never found it…until today.

My story was going to be that I never could find it and how amazing it is that you couldn’t find something on the internet.  I searched for the first few words of the song today and came up with a result.  The song is originally called “The Love Star” and it was recorded by Harry Simone and His Orchestra in 1959.  I’m sure that’s where my dad found it.  It sounds like something he would listen to.  I listened to it, but it doesn’t compare to the way we sang it back when we were kids at Northside Junior High.  It doesn’t have any “Bum pa dum pa dum, dum dum” in it.  Not a one!  And that’s what makes the song!

So here it is!  The original recording from the 1966 Christmas Concert of Northside Jr. High.  That’s right!  My dad had recordings of all of his concerts and such.  For the longest time, those reel to reel recordings sat in the kitchen closet at 758 Lucy Street.  I used to wonder who was ever going to want to listen to those recordings!  Now I’m so glad my dad did that.  It makes me want to sing his praises and call him a hero.  I’ll stop short of calling him a legend, though.  But if you want to call him that, please feel free.  Enjoy this old version of “The Love Star,” better known as “The Carol of the Star.”

 

I might as well put the other songs from that 1966 Christmas Concert on here.  This is the song “Lo How a Rose.”

 

And the last one from 1966 is “Silent Night.”

 

Fast forward to 2010.  I was sitting at my desk in my house in North Carolina and I got a phone call from my brother Al.  He asked me if I remembered the words to “The Carol of the Star.”  I said, “Of course,” and started singing it.  Unknown to him, I had reached in to the top drawer of my desk and pulled out the sheet music for the song.  I had put it in there a few weeks earlier, so it was very handy.  I was able to recall every word of that old song.  He was suitably impressed.  I did explain to him what I had done.  He decided to record me singing the first verse of the song.  He later got recordings of my sister Jamie singing another verse.  Her husband Allen even cooperated and sang a few “Bum pa dum pa dum, dum dum”s for him.  Al also recorded my sister Karen singing some harmonies.  My mom and dad (Betty and Bob Landry) were alive at the time and they participated as well.  Al combined all of the voice tracks and made us all sound great.  It’s like we had been singing the song our whole life!  Here is the 2010 Landry Family Band version of “The Carol of the Star.”

The Snow, a Coat, and a Secret

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I decided to write this post because I’ve seen so many people posting memories that are related to snow.  Plus I was chatting with my sister Jamie earlier in the week and we exchanged copies of photos from the Big Snow Event in Jennings, Louisiana, on January 11, 1973.  I just made up that name.  Nobody called it the Big Snow Event.  There was barely enough snow to make a small snowman.  It was Jennings, Louisiana, and it was the first time I remember having snow there.  We had been living at 758 Lucy Street for less than 10 years, so it was due for a snow.  We don’t get snow that often and it’s usually not very much.  But that doesn’t stop kids from being excited about it when it does fall!

The Great Snowstorm of 1973 in Jennings, Louisiana.

We took quite a few photos of us kids in the snow.  I think it was my mom who took the photos.  I’m pretty sure the date is correct, but I’m kinda doubtful.  For some reason I was thinking Rob had come home from college, but he didn’t graduate from Jennings High School until May of 1973.  In the photo is Karen, Jamie, me (Van), Al, and Rob Landry.  I’m pretty sure it was a school day, and we were let out of school because of all of the snow!

The other thing about this photo is that it’s the last photo I have of that big coat I’m wearing.  It was a reversible coat.  The side you see here is the shiny, coppery side that was good at blocking the wind.  On the other side was nice, thick brown fur.  It wasn’t real fur.  We didn’t have fancy stuff like that.  In fact it was handed down to me from Al.  That’s what happens when you’re the third of three boys – you get hand me down clothes.  I survived it.

I hinted at a secret, so I suppose I will have to reveal it.  It’s not really anything big.  It kinda makes me laugh.  It has to do with the coat.   I was in junior high school at Northside.  Anybody who’s lived in southern Louisiana knows that a cold morning can turn into a warm afternoon fairly quickly.  That’s what happened one day at school.  I was wearing this big coat when we went out for recess after lunch.  It wasn’t long before I started to get warm, so I took the coat off and threw it to the side so I could continue what I was doing.  When the bell rang, I didn’t have a thought for that big coat and went inside with everyone.

I realized a few days later that the coat was missing, but I couldn’t find it anywhere at school.  Then one day it turned up and it had been rained on.  I could see the fur inside and it looked like a mangy dog or something.  I seem to recall someone asking if it was mine.  I just shook my head no.  I turned my back on that poor coat after it kept me so warm in the snow!  I kinda felt bad about that.  Then when my mom asked me what had happened to my coat, I claimed ignorance!  For some reason I’ve never told many people this story, so let’s just keep it as our little secret.  You can go ahead and tell it to one or two of your closest friends if you like.

Before I go, I thought I’d share another photo.  This is a photo Jamie sent me the other day.  You can see the snowman that I mentioned earlier in the post.  She reminded me that we had cheated a little bit when we made the biggest part of the snowman.  There wasn’t much snow, so we formed that part around our basketball!  What’s funny is that it’s still a tiny little snowman.  Yes, he’s the little white man standing in the middle of the photo with the red, white, and blue bandana on his head.  That was Rob’s donation, because you can see he had that on his head in the first photo.  Thanks for the photo, Jamie!  I had forgotten about how cute that little snowman was.

Is Erie Engaged in the Chair?

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Today we will be discussing my paternal grandmother Germaine Erie Patureau.  I’ll use her maiden name, since I think she was single at the time.  It would be later that she would acquire the last name Landry and then be known as Mama.  A while later on she would be known by us grandkids as Mee Maw.

Poor quality photo of Erie in the chair.

But at the time of this photo she was usually known as Erie.  So that’s what we’ll call her. I had this old, poor quality copy of a photo of Erie sitting in a chair.  I’m not sure where it came from, but I didn’t really care for it.  Other cousins seemed to like it.  Maybe that’s because at least one of them had a much better copy of it!  As you can see I kept it, but I always hoped to get a better copy of it.

In August 2019 some of us cousins got together to share photos and documents.  I’ve told you that before.  But what I didn’t tell you is that we hugged, stood next to each other, and breathed near each other.  Even Shirley!  Those were the good old days.  Now we’re all keeping a distance and hoping the Covid vaccine comes out sooner than later.  But last year we got together and I was able to get this new improved version of the photo.

Erie Patureau circa 1921 probably in Lafayette, Louisiana.

Isn’t this one much better?  It’s so much clearer and it’s not washed out.  You can also see so much more detail on her dress.  Not to mention that you can see her feet.  Of course she was being very proper, because even though the dress ends a bit above her shoes, you still don’t see her ankles.  That would have been scandalous!  I’m surprised she got away with those see-through sleeves she’s wearing.  That seems a little risque!

The other detail I noticed was the Apple watch that she’s wearing.  I wonder if it was keeping track of her daily activities for her?  No, that can’t be an Apple watch.  That was way before any idea of such a thing was in existence.  But I do see a ring on her finger that I wasn’t able to make out in the old fuzzy photo.  And it is on the ring finger of her left hand.  I’m thinking that this must be an engagement photo.  It is a rather formal photographic sitting.

Erie Patureau in July of 1921.

When I compare it to the photos taken in July 1921, it looks like she’s the same age.  Here is a crop of the photo to compare.  I also notice that she was wearing a ring in that photo as well.  Those were the more casual photos that she took when she was engaged.

So I’m saying, “Yes, Erie was engaged,” when these photos were taken.  I guess they are the closest thing that I have to a wedding photo of her.  Why have I never seen a wedding photo of my grandparents?  I’ve shared a photo from her sister’s wedding in 1933.  It looked like a big formal affair that their father (Grampa Max) provided.  There were lots of flowers and lots of photos of a rather large group of family.

Maybe it was a tough time for Grampa Max.  He went into hiding in 1920.  Not really, I just can’t find him on the 1920 Census.  Wait!  There’s another clue I just remembered.  There was a reception after Mee Maw & Pee Paw’s wedding that was attended by family and friends.  I don’t have a photo of the event, but I do have this newspaper article from the Daily Advertiser in Lafayette, Louisiana, from November 12, 1921, the day of their wedding.

Newspaper article from the Daily Advertiser in Lafayette, Louisiana, on Nov. 12, 1921. Germaine Erie Patureau (they spelled her name incorrectly) married Robert Joseph Landry.

Thanksgiving 1959

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When I think of Thanksgivings in the past, I think of the times I spent with my Bucklin cousins in Hathaway.  Of course, not many of them were Bucklins because my mom had three sisters (Sylvia, Alma, and Loris) and only one brother (Austin).  So they were gatherings of Bucklins, Landrys, Pilchers, Seals, and Woolleys. 

Thanksgiving 1959 with the Bucklin sisters.

I don’t have many photos of these gatherings.  I guess we were too busy having fun instead of taking photos.  So I found this old photo from 1959 and I have it dated as November 1959.  It shows a fresh crop of Bucklin cousins that were born that year.

From left to right we have my aunt Loris Bucklin Woolley with young Brent who was born in February.  He is being examined by older cousin Lynn Pilcher. (or is it Toni?)  In the middle is my mom Betty Lou Bucklin Landry with young Al who was born in July.  On the right is the oldest sister Sylvia Bucklin Pilcher with the newest member of the family Kevin, who was born in August. 

I was going to say that it wasn’t every year that there were that many new cousins.  But then I thought of the very following year when I was born in October.  Two months later Aunt Loris had Keith, and a month after that Aunt Alma had Rhonda. (Finally another girl!)   I just realized for the first time that there isn’t a photo of us three who were born even closer together!  What’s up with that?  Maybe it was because Brent was Loris’s first child?  That doesn’t seem like a good reason, because Rhonda was Alma’s first.  We were robbed!  We were deprived!

I was going to say that we needed restitution, but that would not be a good example of being thankful.  And that’s what today’s topic is supposed to be about.  Though I am missing some of my family who are no longer here, I am very thankful that I have had such a wonderful family to share Thanksgivings with through the years. 

From Acadian to Cajun: Part 10 – Bourg/Babin/Landry

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Finding Home

Magdelena Babin was in charge.  She didn’t necessarily want to be in charge, but she was.  So many others had died.  She had been through it so many times before, even been on the receiving end of it four times.  That’s not nearly as many times as other women in her family.  Back in Acadie it was considered a true blessing to have twelve children.  So she had lots of experience.

But she had a wonderful teacher.  The best.  People from all over Pisiquit would send for her mother any time there was a question or problem related to childbirth.  Marguerite Bourg could tell the sex of the child just by looking at a pregnant woman.  And she always knew the right thing to say to the expectant mom to soothe her worries.  She had a lifetime of experiences.  She was at the birth of at least ten of her younger siblings starting at the age of 7. 

Of course her mom’s Grandmere Bourg had been the midwife then, and little Marguerite became more helpful with each birth.  By the time she was 17 and Grandmere died, she had learned a lot of those skills.  She had a knack for it and loved those little babies.  With her mom’s last two children, there was no need for anyone else but Marguerite.  Little Jean died after just a few months, but it wasn’t due to anything she had done.  Marguerite always said that God must have needed him more than they did.  A few years later Marguerite got married and started having children of her own. Giving birth herself had given her a different view of the whole thing.  It helped her to be more compassionate than she was previously.  It was a calling that she followed happily.  Marguerite always knew what to do in any situation.  If only she was here now.

But she wasn’t.  Magdelena hadn’t seen her since that horrible day that the ships left Home almost twelve years ago.  They hadn’t believed that it would actually happen until that day.  Even with all of the threats they had heard, they didn’t believe it.  “How could they send us away from our homes?” Magdelena asked for the thousandth time, “We didn’t want to leave our homes, so they burned them down!  They slaughtered our livestock and poultry.  We started believing then.  But it wasn’t real until they boarded us on those stinking ships and we left our beautiful harbor.  It’s the last time I ever saw anything beautiful.”

Maryland had been a place of death and despair.  Though she had heard whisperings of worse situations for others from Acadie.  She still had her husband Augustin Landry and their children, so she gave God thanks every day.  But two of his sisters died during that time.  People didn’t die in their thirties and forties back in Acadie.  It was a hard life in Maryland and it changed a person. “None of the Old Ones are around anymore,” Magdelena mused, “Tante Dorothee had been with us in Maryland, but she died in those first years.  She was only 50, but would have been 60 now.  That’s barely old, but she knew some of what Mama knew.  Mama would be 66 now if she was alive.  Oh  my Jesus, let her be alive.  Blessed Virgin, protect her.”  She always thought that the intercessions of the Blessed Virgin were particularly powerful since they were traveling on a ship that bore her name – Virgin.

Yes, they were finally getting away from Maryland and they had hopes for something better in this place they were going called Louisiana.  “Yes, a glimmer of hope if God so wills it.”  Being aboard a ship added further to her predicament.  “Nobody wants to give birth on a ship, yet Teetsy was due any day now.”  Teetsy was the nickname that she and her mother had for Magdelena’s first cousin Theotiste Babin.  Theotiste and her husband Dique were expecting their first child.  They had been trying for a few years and now the time was approaching.  A first child after that situation can be tricky, but on a boat?  Not the best time to be in charge of being the midwife.  Teetsy’s mom Annemarie couldn’t do it.  She was one of Augustin’s sisters that had died in Maryland.  So Teetsy requested Magdelena, and Magdelena accepted.

“Any day now,” Magdelena told Theotiste, “Things are moving along nicely.”  She tried to be as encouraging as she could.  New mothers seemed to worry more than most.  The baby’s head wasn’t quite in the right position.  She had tried to make an adjustment, but the baby did not want to cooperate.  She wasn’t worried.  Not too much, anyway.  She decided to go up top for a breath of fresh air.  It was a bit stuffy down below.  Not like it was on the Dolphin when they came out of Acadie.  “That was the worst,” she thought as she shuddered.  “It wasn’t the temperature like it is on this ship.  It was being crammed into the hold and treated like cargo.  Best not to think of those times.”  She started praying the rosary to take her mind off of those sorrowful times.  “Best to think on God’s Glory.”

On deck things were happening all around.  They had been at shore at St. Domingue now for over a week.  She was hoping that it would be a short stop so Teetsy could have the baby once they arrived in Louisiana.  It didn’t look like that would happen unless they left immediately.  That was something that she was not in charge of.  As she finished the rosary, she continued to worry about delivering that baby aboard ship.  She was the one in charge and the baby wasn’t cooperating. “If only Mama was here.  Dear God, let your will be done.”  As she said that, she noticed a young woman running on the dock.  Something about  her looked familiar.  She ran up to a group of people, including an older woman.  They then disappeared behind a building on the dock. 

Her breath caught.  “Could it really be?” she wondered.  The young woman reminded her of her younger sister Marie.  Marie had been 12 years old the last time she had seen her.  She would be twice that old now – a young woman like the one she saw running.  And she ran to an older woman that reminded her of her mother.  She knew that some of these people on the docks were other people who had been from Acadie.  She never knew where her mother and sister were for all those years.  How could they have made it down to here?  Her father Jean Babin had died before the Terrible Times.  At least he was spared that.  “God forgive me,” she prayed quickly, “I don’t mean to be ungrateful!”

She decided to make her way to where the new passengers were coming onto the ship.  She just had to see one way or another.  She prepared herself for disappointment.  She had become really good at that.  Her legs were shaky as she got closer.  She even saw someone else being greeted by a long lost loved one.  She was happy for them.  “Miracles do happen!” she thought as she let out a long steady breath. 

And then she saw her mother’s face for the first time in twelve long years.  She watched her walking for a while.  Her gait was a little unsteady and she had a slight stoop.  The years had been hard on her.  When their eyes met, tears fell quickly from her eyes.  “Glory to the most loving God,” she heard herself saying, “Thank you, Dearest Virgin, for prayers always answered.”  Her mother had stopped in her tracks when she saw Magdelena.  Marie stopped, saw that her mother was looking at something, and looked to see what it was.  As she saw Magdelena she gave a big toothy grin and shouted, “Hey, Magdelena!”  Magdelena was surprised that she could hear her from that far away with the din of all the people with their arms waving.

“My baby girl,” Marguerite whispered as she greeted Magdelena with a hug and kisses to both cheeks, “Let me look at you.”  They stood and looked at each other a minute.  “Praise God from whom all blessings flow.  I prayed for this day so many times.”

“Me, too,” replied Magdelena, “With hope against hope.  We lost Tante Dorothee in Maryland.  There were so many deaths”

“Yes,” she said as she acknowledged the death of her sister with a sign of the Cross, “So many deaths.  Tante Marie died here in St. Domingue a few years back.”  Marie was her older sister.  They began sharing their stories of their sufferings over the past twelve years.  Magdelena was surprised that her mother had endured so much.  Maryland seemed a bit tame compared to the situation at le Mirebalais in St. Domingue.

Magdelena realized that her mind had been completely taken away from the matters at hand.  “Wait,” she said suddenly, “We’ve got to go check on Teetsy!”

“Teetsy’s here?” asked Marguerite,  “Is she okay?”

“Yes, she’s been with us all along.  The whole family was in Maryland with us.  Tante Annemarie and cousin Dorothee passed away a few years ago.  Teetsy and her husband Dique are expecting their first child any day now.  Everything will be fine now that you’re here.”

“I’ll do what I can do,” Marguerite said, “but God’s will be done.  Is it a boy or a girl?”  When Magdelena indicated that she couldn’t tell, Marguerite gave her a studied look for a while.  “It’s a girl.  As soon as I get that head into position, everything will work out fine.  She’s still got a few days to go.”

Magdelena was stunned, “How could you know that?”

“I feel it in my waters,” was all she replied.

And so it came to pass.  That baby girl was pleased to move her head wherever Marguerite directed it.  The ship pulled out of port and headed to Louisiana.  As the ship made its way into the Mississippi River, the baby girl made its way into the outside world.  She was named Marguerite in honor of her aunt.  As Magdelena held little Marguerite in her arms for the first time, all she could say was, “What a beautiful thing the Lord has made.”

My grandmother Germaine Erie Patureau Landry (my Mee Maw) with her youngest daughter. They descend from the women in this story.

I decided to write this story after I saw how the lives of several of my ancestors came together on the Virgin as it made its way to Louisiana.  But the main impetus was that I found out that the mother of Magdelena Babin Landry had also made it to Louisiana.  And that’s what this series is all about.  I’m trying to put as much information together that I can find from those days of Exile.

In Installment 1 I talked about Augustin Landry and his wife Magdelena Babin.  I didn’t talk about her parents because her father Jean Babin had died in 1751, which is before the Grand Derangement.  He was “spared the Terrible Times” as Magdelena says in the story.  I didn’t really know what happened to Marguerite at that point, so I left her out of the installment.  I didn’t think she had made it to Louisiana.  I didn’t see her name on the Wall in St. Martinville, so I figure she died sometime around 1755.

In Installment 8 I talked about Diego or Dique Hernandez and his wife Theotiste Babin.  She and Magdelena were first cousins, though Magdelena was about 18 years older than her cousin.  I descend from both of them.  Theotiste’s father Joseph Babin made it through the years in Exile and to Louisiana, but his wife Anne Marie Landry died in 1763.  Theotiste and Dique were expecting their first child when they boarded the Virgin in Maryland and had their daughter shortly before arriving in Louisiana.  They named her Marguerite.

Marie Marguerite Bourg Babin is listed as Marie Veuve Babin on the Wall in St. Martinville, Louisiana

When I discovered that Marguerite Bourg Babin had survived the years of Exile and showed up in New Orleans at the same date (July 23, 1767) as her daughter Magdelena, I figured out what had happened.  There was a hint of St. Domingue in one of the sources I found about her.  That tied in with what I had written in Installment 9 about Joseph Dupuis.  He had been in Connecticut and found his way to le Mirebalais, St. Domingue in 1764.  Several of his family members died at that point.  One of Marguerite Bourg’s sisters died at le Mirebalais in 1764 as well. 

I also knew that Joseph Dupuis had joined the Acadians on the Virgin in 1767 and he arrived in New Orleans on the same date as Marguerite Bourg, Magdelena Babin and Augustin Landry & fly., and Theotiste & Diego & little Marguerite who was only a few days old at the time.  So Marguerite Bourg was reunited with her daughter Magdelena either at the port of St. Domingue or in New Orleans.  For the sake of the story, I put it at the port of St. Domingue.  On the August 1767 Census, Magdelena and her family were living next to Marguerite and Marie in St. Gabriel. It appears that Marguerite lived out the rest of her life in St. Gabriel near her family.

I don’t know if Marguerite was a midwife or not.  There is no record of that.  And Marie may not have had a toothy smile!  But with Theotiste giving birth during the voyage, I thought it would be likely that she would turn to an older female family member to be of assistance.  So I wrapped all of these facts up into a story with lots of fictionalizing to season it.

I do know that they were very Catholic, so I added that into their characters.  While a lot of what happened wasn’t real, my main focus was on the fact that a mother and daughter reunited after 12 years of Terrible Times.  So when the two women’s eyes meet, it was my eyes that were shedding tears.  Reuniting with your mother would be like Finding Home.

For other installments of the “From Acadian to Cajun” series, click on the following links:

 

From Acadian to Cajun: Part 1 – Landry/Babin

From Acadian to Cajun: Part 2 – Breau/Trahan

From Acadian to Cajun: Part 3 – Braud/LeBlanc/Gauterot/Aucoin

From Acadian to Cajun: Part 4 – Hebert/Melanson

From Acadian to Cajun: Part 5 – Bourg/Granger

From Acadian to Cajun: Part 6 – Bujol/LeBlanc

From Acadian to Cajun: Part 7 – Foret/Bujol

From Acadian to Cajun: Part 8 – Hernandez/Babin

From Acadian to Cajun: Part 9 – Dupuis/Dugas

From Acadian to Cajun: Part 11 – The Ones That Didn’t Make It

Grandma Phenice and Her Chickens

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I’ve been thinking of writing about this for a while.  I’ve thought about the subject when I wrote other posts about my great grandmother Daisy Keys Phenice (mother of my maternal grandmother Myrtle Phenice Bucklin), but inevitably the posts ran longer than I wanted and there was no room for this topic.  I try to make these posts short and sweet, despite what you may think when you see all the words I sometimes write.

My great grandmother Daisy Keys Phenice with her granddaughter Marilyn Phenice in 1938 in Elton, Louisiana.

So I decided to write about Great Grandma Phenice and her expertise with chickens.  Then I went looking for a photo to go along with it.  This is the photo I first thought of and I think it works, even though it’s not a photo of her with a chicken.  That’s actually her young granddaughter Marilyn Phenice, my mom’s first cousin.  The photo was taken at a Keys family get together.  I posted a photo of the whole group two years ago.

According to Aunt Marguerite in some of her writings (Marge’s Memories), Daisy knew and loved her chickens.  Living out in the country in southern Louisiana in the early 1900s, raising chickens was a necessity.  I doubt that Daisy learned that as a young girl growing up in the city around London, England.  She was busy learning sewing and making things associated with her mother’s dress shop.  But when her mom (Martha Cook Keys) brought the family to Louisiana when Daisy was 11 years old, Daisy and the other children had to learn some new skills.

So as an adult, Daisy had become an expert with her chickens.  She knew when they were ready to set or lay eggs that could be hatched for a new group of chickens.  They wouldn’t set unless they were ready, and Daisy could tell when that was.  Maybe that had to do with the fact that when the family first moved to Louisiana, they had to live in a chicken coop until their house was built!  She was a chicken whisperer.  When she would see a storm coming, she immediately thought about her chickens.  She would run out into the storm to help the chickens into safety at her own risk.

The chickens produced lots of eggs, of course.  They were able to barter the surplus for other staples at the local Piggly Wiggly.  The family ate the eggs and the meat as well.  Like I said, Daisy loved her chickens!  When she was ready to fry some chicken, she gathered up some feed in her apron and went out in the yard.  I remember my mom telling me when I was a kid that her grandmother was the best at wringing a chicken’s neck.  Just a quick turn of the wrist was all it took.  She was quick about it, too.  From the idea of cooking some fried chicken to the point of serving it to the family only took a couple of hours.  Not exactly fast food, but that wasn’t available back then.

Mom’s Memories page 12

According to my mom, her Grandma Phenice’s fried chicken was especially tasty.  It was worth a mention in her memory book that she kept when she was getting older.  So it made it into Marge’s Memories and Mom’s Memories.  That must have been some fried chicken.

As my mom wrote, “It kept us a little warmer on the way home on cold nites.”  I think little Betty Lou loved Daisy’s chickens, too!

 

Who Is Mrs. P. M. Babin?

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Van Landry, a great great grandson of Mrs. P. M. Babin, taking a selfie at the St. John Cemetery in Lafayette, Louisiana, on October 24, 2020.

As you can tell from the photo, it must be a family member.  Otherwise I wouldn’t be taking a photo of myself with her grave.  Right?  I don’t take a selfie with just any old grave!

Maybe you can be like Sis and ask, “Who is Grandma Babin?”  That is a question that she asked my dad many years ago.  Daddy laughed and eventually explained it to her.  I have made references to that question a few times in these blog posts.  I really shouldn’t make fun of Sis, she’s been so good about sharing photos and information with me.  In fact, I’m sharing one of the photos in this post.

St. John Cemetery in Lafayette, Louisiana.

Here are some clues.  This is a photo of the area showing other related graves.  In the foreground is the grave of Wana C. Landry.  Some of you may be familiar with her.  This is not my Aunt Wana.  Everyone knows that she was Wana Lidwin.  Wana C. was a granddaughter of Mrs. P. M. Babin.  She was never married.

Next to Mrs. P. M. Babin is P. M. Babin.  This is her husband.  If you don’t know who Mrs. P. M. Babin, this other grave doesn’t give you any more information.  The next two graves are for for Louis  J. Landry and Mrs. L. J. Landry.  Directly above them in this photo is a whitish grave with a black top.  That grave is for Henry Louis Landry.  He is the brother of Wana C. and they are the children of Mr. and Mrs. Louis J. Landry.

What’s that you say?  Yes, you are right!   Mrs. P. M. Babin is Grandma Belite.  You are so very clever.  For those of you still not sure, Grandma Belite’s full name is Marie Amelie “Belite” Bujol Landry Babin.  Her name is so long because I include the nickname she went by, the last name of her first husband Trasimond Landry, and the last name of her second husband Pierre Magloire Babin.  Mrs. P. M. Babin is such a lacking name for her headstone.  No given name, no nickname, and no maiden name is given.

I didn’t know where her grave was for a while, but then I asked a third cousin Chip.  He was able to provide a photo for me and told me where it was.  So I decided to go find it the other day when we were in Lafayette.  I realized the graveyard was between a friend’s house and the I-10.  I wandered around the cemetery looking for it and eventually found the group of graves.  Grandma Belite’s daughter Clemence is the one named Mrs. Louis J. Landry.  She was my Mee Maw’s (Germaine Erie Patureau) half aunt.  Clemence’s husband Louis was the brother of my Pee Paw (Robert J. Landry Sr.).

Therese Wynhoven Mouton, Emma Patureau Mouton, Grandma Belite, and Grampa Max in 1921.  This was probably taken in Duson, Louisiana.  (Thanks to Sis for providing the photo.)

Here is a photo of Grandma Belite in 1921.  She is in the middle of the photo and her son-in-law Max Patureau is on the right.  He was married to Belite and Trasimond’s daughter Marie Therese Landry.  She died in 1909.  She and Max Patureau are buried in the Patureau tomb in Plaquemine.  But Max isn’t just Belite’s son-in-law, he’s her half second cousin by their Landry mothers.  Also in the photo are Max’s daughter Emma Patureau Mouton and her firstborn daughter Therese Wynhoven Mouton.  We knew her as Tez.

So there you have it.  Mrs. P. M. Babin with her family, where even her in-laws are related to her.  She was known by those buried by her as Grandma Babin.  But to those who descend from her Landry children, she was known as Grandma Belite.

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