The Word is Hydroxy…

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Snapshot of Betty Lou Bucklin in the 1949-50 yearbook for the Hathaway High Hornets in southern Louisiana.

I’ve thought about writing a post about this topic for quite a while now, but I have to admit that it is a really weird topic.  But lately I keep hearing the word hydroxycholoroquine in relation to possible medical treatment for Covid-19.  Every time I hear the beginning of the word, it reminds me of one of my mom’s favorite words. 

I can’t remember the first time I heard the word.  I seem to think it was back when I was learning the word supercalifragilisticexpialidocious in 2nd grade or so.  I’m sure we must have been learning the song for school choir or something like that.  So my mom must have decided to tell me about her favorite word.  That favorite word was hydroxymercurobenzolphenonasulfate.

So I learned that word and have remembered it ever since then.  And now lately I’ve been thinking about it more often.  It’s not a word that comes up in conversation very often, if ever.  I assumed it was a word she might have heard in a science class or something.  I have tried to find out what it means or what its purpose is, and I’ve only been able to find one reference to it.  And it wasn’t online anywhere.

A note to Betty Lou from Flutina. Hathaway High School, Hathaway, Louisiana, 1949.

I found it in my mom’s old yearbook from 1949-50.  It was a message written to Barry Tone c/o Miss Betty Lou Bucklin.  (It’s a play on words.  My mom played the baritone in band.)  The message was from one Flutina the Flute.  I don’t know her identity, but her message says, “Dear Barry, They say life is hard.  Don’t let its problems get you down.  If they do, I advise the quick way out – Take some hydroxymercurobenzolphenonasulfate.” 

My only thought about it when I found it was that it was just a cute little phrase that mom and her friend joked about.  Kinda like “Wheatavitavegimin, it’s tasty!”  I didn’t think it was anything dark –  my mom taught me the word when I was a wee lad!  But when I showed it to Chuck to tell him what I was going to write about tonight, he thought it was a bit dark.  He’s right!  How did I never see that before.

Then when I looked it up online, the closest results came up with poisons and an icon with skull and crossbones.  Oh my!  I decided to write about it anyway.  Did I tell you that it was one of my mom’s favorite words?  I’m sure I did.  And I like it too!  And I know for sure my mom was not trying to encourage me to harm myself in any way.  It’s just a fun word to say.  Try it.  Hydroxymercurobenzolphenonasulfate!  See?  No harm in saying it.

Hathaway school band circa 1950

I’m still curious to know who Flutina the Flute is.  I have a photo from that yearbook and it shows a picture of the Hathaway school band.  My mom labeled a few people in the photo.  She is in the photo, as well as her sisters Alma and Loris.  She also labeled Gayle (Groth I presume).  And there on the back row is Flutina the Flute.  Of course, she is playing the flute, but I don’t know her real name. 

But I think I might know one of her favorite words!  You think?

 

 

My Dad’s Maternal Line

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I try to switch back and forth between my father’s side of the family to my mom’s side of the family.  It’s only right that I give them equal time.  Plus I have stories to tell about both sides of the family.  Then I try to cover each of my grandparents’ lines about once a month.  But then a great story will come along and throw everything off, because I just have to share it with everyone.

So according to my figuring, it is time to write a Patureau post.   I looked through my info and decided on a story of my dad’s maternal line.  The only problem with that is that when you follow the maternal line, the surname changes every generation.  But my dad’s line is unusual.  He was a Bob Landry and his mother was Germaine “Erie” Patureau.  His grandmother was Marie Therese Landry.  His great grandmother was Marie Amelie “Belite” Bujol.  Belite was the daughter of Anna Adele Landry.

Death notice for Mrs. Amedee Bujol on March 14, 1899

So how is that for a Patureau story?  It’s full of the Landry name!  I shouldn’t be surprised, because everywhere you look in his tree you’ll find a Landry.  But then again, almost all of the Patureau families in southern Louisiana, Texas, and beyond descend from a Landry.  The Patureau immigrant Ferdinand Patureau was married to Marie Emma Landry, the half first cousin to Anna  Adele Landry.  So we’re all one big happy family anyway.

The impetus for this post is this death notice that I “found” last year.  Actually it was shared with me and other cousins by our cousin Daphne – she of the “Secret Collection.”  The death notice only identifies the deceased as “Mrs. Amedee Bujol,” with no indication of her first name or maiden name.  Then at some later date someone (my grandma Erie -better known as Mee Maw – or my dad) typed in more information.  But that information is only more facts about Amedee Bujol and not about Mrs. Amedee Bujol.

Well let me tell you who Mrs. Amedee Bujol was.  She was Anna Adele Landry.  She was born on June 21, 1817, in St. Gabriel, Louisiana.  Her parents were Manuel Landry and Celeste Bruneteau.  When she was 22 years old, she married the infamous Amedee Bujol (full name Joseph Hubert Amedee Bujol) and took his name.  Over the next thirteen years they became the parents of ten daughters in a row!  Finally in 1856, they gave birth to a son.  Amedee died the next year from exhaustion!  Not really.  He did die, but I don’t know what the cause was.  He was buried in Brusly, leaving Adele a widow with nine small children.  (Twin daughters had died in infancy in 1851.)

In the 1860 Census she was listed as “Widow A. Bujol” in the household of “Leveque & Bujol” in Iberville Parish.  It identifies Leveque & Bujol as planters, but there was a Louis Leveque in the household and he was a lawyer.  He was a first cousin of Amedee Bujol (his mother was a Leveque) and it looks like he may have been in business with Adele.  So they had a plantation or worked with a plantation in pre-Civil War times.  But the war was not too far off.

On April 26, 1861, Brusly had a big celebration with their citizens to cheer on those young men who were going off to fight for Southern Freedom.  There were bands playing and crowds cheering as the military men showed up with their new uniforms and armament.  Adele Landry Bujol (known as the Widow or Veuve Bujol) played a part in that celebration.  She and some of her “beautiful” daughters sewed a new company flag for the Acadian men of the Tirailleurs.  Her daughter Amelie “Belite” would later marry one of the war heroes from the Tirailleurs – Trasimond Landry.

My dad’s family tree showing maternal line to Anna Adele Landry Bujol

In the 1870 Census, Adele is listed as “Amedee Bujol,” a 52 year old female with three daughters, one son-in-law, and a domestic servant.  I can see being called the Widow Bujol, but it seems strange that she would be known by her husband’s name years after he died.  Finally in 1880, she is listed as Adele Bujol when she was living with her daughter Belite and Belite’s second husband Magloire Babin.  Belite did not stay a widow for very long like her mother had.  In fact, Trasimond died in Feb. 1879 of yellow fever and Belite gave birth to a child by Magloire Babin on May 31, 1880.  So she was married at least within seven months of Trasimond’s death.  Not that there’s anything wrong with that.  It’s just such a difference from her mother being a widow for 43 years and her grandmother (Marie Francoise Leveque Bujol) being a widow for 51 years.

Before I found that death notice for Adele last year, the 1880 Census was the last record I could find for her.  So for her death, all I could know for sure was that it was “after 1880.”  So I was excited to finally find the exact date of her death.  It looks like she died on March 13, 1899, at the house of her daughter Mrs. J. A. Fourrier (nee Anaise Amenide Bujol) at 821 Main Street in Baton Rouge, Louisiana.  That’s not far from where I live.  She was buried across the river at the Catholic Cemetery in Brusly.  I would think she would be buried near Amedee.  I found his grave at the Brusly cemetery, but didn’t see hers. 

So ends my story of Mrs. J. H. A. Bujol.

March 27, 2020 – I went by the address where great great great Grandma Adele took her last breath.  This is not the house that was there in 1899, but it is the same location.

“Howdy, Y’All”

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Betty Lou just a swingin’

How can you not like this photo?  Right?  Such a cheerful little photo.  I think I may have posted this photo before with another one as a comment on a blog post.  I thought it was time for it to have a blog post of its own.  Being that we are right in the middle of a coronavirus lock-down, I thought something a bit cheery was in order.  That “middle” definer in that last sentence might be a bit optimistic as well.  We shall see.

If you don’t already know, this is a photo of my dear sweet Mama.  Funny how that phrase reminds me of something so particular.  When I was in college, I went home one weekend.  Part of that weekend included washing my clothes.  I’m pretty sure that she was the one doing the washing!  The next week I put on a shirt and noticed something in the pocket.  I fished out a stick of gum that had a note attached that read, “From your dear sweet Mama!”  That’s my mom, a sweet one for sure.  I saved that little note, though I haven’t seen it in a while.  If I ever find it again, I’ll have to add it to this post.

So as I was saying, this is Betty Lou Bucklin Landry.  She was born in Hathaway, Louisiana, on May 20, 1933, with Dr. Fletcher from Elton in attendance.  At the time that this photo was taken, she was around 17 years old.  She was either a junior or senior in high school at Hathaway High.  Go Hornets!  She’s sitting on a swing in the china ball tree next to the old ice box.  Her dad Fred Bucklin had a plant nursery back then and you can see part of that in the background.  Just a quiet day in little old Hathaway in the early 50s.

When I first started writing this post, it looked like she was saying a big hello.  Now it looks like she is saying, “See you later!”

From Acadian to Cajun: Part 4 – Hebert/Melanson

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Paul Hebert and Marguerite Melanson were my 5X great grandparents who came to Louisiana from Acadie via Maryland.

It’s time for another installment of the series about my ancestors who went through the Grand Derangement.  This was when the French-speaking inhabitants of Acadie were Exiled from their homeland by  the British.  The year was 1755 and there was a war going on between England and France.  So this made the English leery of those people who spoke funny and followed the Roman pope.  They were just altogether different and not to be tolerated.  So off they were sent with minimum belongings and maximum uncertainties.

Pierre Paul was the son of Paul Gaston Hebert & Marguerite Josephe Melanson.

The family line I’ll talk about this time is the most common Acadian/Cajun surname in Louisiana – or so I’ve been told.  I’ve always thought that the Landry name was the ‘Smith’ of southern Louisiana.  But I’ve been corrected by some of my Hebert kin.  It seems that the Hebert name is the most common.  But that’s okay with me.  I once said that I am a Patureau.  Well, now I am saying, “I am an Hebert.”  Let’s look at that connection.

Record of the 1736 marriage of Paul Hebert & Marguerite Josephe Melanson. The title of the entry shows Marie Josephe Melanson, but the body of the entry shows the correct name of Marguerite Josephe Melanson

 On April 13, 1712, my 5X great grandfather Paul Gaston Hebert was born in St. Charles Aux Mines, Acadie.  His parents were Guillaume Hebert and Marie Josephe Dupuis.  On November 6, 1718, my 5X great grandmother Marguerite Josephe Melanson was born in Grand Pre, Acadie.  Her parents were Phillip Melanson & Marie Catherine Dugas. 

Paul and Marguerite  grew up in their parents’ households in Acadie before the Great Upheaval, as did several generations of their family before them.  Their great great grandparents had founded Acadie a hundred years previously.  Many generations had been born there and died there. Marguerite lost her mother in 1733, and she would be the last of this line to be buried there.  This also meant that her mother was not present when Marguerite married Paul on May 14, 1736, in Grand Pre.

In 1737 Marguerite and Paul had their first child, a son named Pierre Paul.  He was my 4XG grandfather.  Another son Joseph was born in 1739 and I don’t descend from him.  In 1745 they had a daughter named Anne Marie.  I descend from her.  Twice.  Oh, no.  That’s not right.  I descend from her three times through her two husbands.  But now I’m getting ahead of myself.

Marguerite and Paul had a total of nine children before the Grand Derangement in 1755.  The names were Pierre Paul, Joseph, Charles, Marie, Anne Marie, Ignace, Madeleine, Jean Baptiste, and Armand.  Considering some of my ancestors that were deported to Virginia and consequently to England where there was lots of disease and disasters, the Hebert family was fortunate to be sent to Georgetown, Maryland, for their period of Exile.  It was still no picnic in the park and I wouldn’t wish their treatment on anyone that I know.  They were expelled from their homes and shipped to an unwelcoming foreign place.

1763 Georgetown, Maryland, Census

And yet the family continued to grow.  During their first five years of Exile in Maryland, Marguerite and Paul had three more children:  Antoine, Paul, and Marguerite.   They had their youngest child in 1760, which was the same year that their oldest Pierre Paul got married.  He married a fellow Acadian Exile by the name of Marguerite LeBlanc.  I’m not certain of her parents, but I think their names were Antoine LeBlanc and Marie Babin.  I do know that Pierre Paul and Marguerite had a son named Charles in 1762.

So when the 1763 Census in Georgetown was taken of the French Neutrals, there were lots of Heberts to be found.  That is easy to see from the list of names.  The first group of names starts with Francois Hebert.  He was a first cousin to Paul Hebert.  Francois’s wife Marie Joseph Melancon was first cousin to Paul’s wife  Marguerite Joseph Melancon.  The next group listed is Paul and Marguerite.  Then there is Pierre Paul, Marguerite, and their new little son Charles.  The next three families listed are a Granger, a Babin, and a Brasseux.  The next one listed is Ignace Hebert, who is a brother of Paul.  The last family group on this page starts with the name Marguerite veuve Bellony LeBlanc.  That means that Marguerite was the widow of Bellony.   She was the sister of Paul Hebert, which shows that there were many family members present with them in Georgetown.

There is not much more information about their term of Exile in Maryland.  There is a marriage registered by Rev. Joseph Mosley in his journal.  It reads “26 Dec. 1765 (Thu) married Joseph Hebert and Anne Mary Landry; witnesses John Blake, Mrs. Witherstrand, and many French; second and third degree dispensations.”  That would be Paul Hebert & Marguerite Melanson’s son Joseph.  I think the dispensation was due to fact that the two lovebirds were cousins through the Melanson family name.  I’m sure that did not deter the “many French” from passing a good time!

When we next hear of this family group, they are among the Acadian Exiles who settled in St. Gabriel, Louisiana, on July 27, 1767.  According to the records, they owned one axe and two trunks.  Really?  Couldn’t they fit that axe in one of those trunks?  That just tells me that they weren’t very good packers!  Or maybe there was some significance to the axe that I’m not aware of.

In 1769 Anne Marie Hebert was 24 years old and at a good age for marrying.  So when she met another Acadian Exile who had settled in Louisiana, that’s just what she did.

But that story is for another time.

_____

Here is my family tree showing the shortest link to my Hebert ancestors.

For other installments of the “From Acadian to Cajun” series, just 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 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 in a short story called “Finding Home”

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

Addie May WIth a Son and a Cow

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Roy Bucklin with his mother Addie May Hine Bucklin discussing cows.

For some reason I always seem to like photos of cows.  I also like paintings of cows.  So when I come across a photo of an ancestor with a cow, you know I’m gonna like it.  I’ve already posted a photo of my paternal great grandfather with a cow.  That’s because Grampa Max (Patureau) was a veterinarian.  Now it’s time to share a photo of my maternal great grandmother with a bovine companion (or two).

Addie May was her name, and cattle was her game.  Grandma Addie was born in Noblesville, Indiana, on Sept. 23, 1876.  Her parents were George and Sue Stanbrough Hine.  In the 1880 Census, George is identified as a farmer in Marion Township in Boone County, Indiana.  So little Addie grew up on a farm, which probably had at least a cow or two.

Farm journals of Louis Bucklin

The family moved to Louisiana in 1894 where George continued his farming on a homestead in the China community.  Addie met and married (in 1898) Louis Bucklin, whose family had been homesteading in the area since 1884.  Louis kept a journal that talked about all of the goings on at the farm.   He started them in 1893 and continued writing until his death in 1927.

Addie continued the farm and raised cattle with her sons Roy and Herbert.  I don’t really know that much about it, but I have seen newspaper articles that mentioned them showing their cattle and winning prizes at the Jeff Davis Parish Fair as well as regional showings.  I can’t find any of those articles right now, but I promise you there are several.  I know that Roy’s daughters Jeannette and Doris also got in on the act and made a name for themselves.

Van, Bob, and Betty Bucklin Landry visiting the old Bucklin farm truck of Addie Hine Bucklin in 2015. (Thanks to cousin Joseph for the photo.)

Addie died in 1960 a month after I was born.  Her sons Herbert and Roy took over the farm, as well as the truck that Addie used to drive to take care of her farming business.  That truck has long since retired, yet it is still around.  It is used as part of a stage in a cool barn in the Hathaway area.  I went to visit it with my mom and dad back in 2015 for one last nostalgic outing with them.

Nostalgic indeed.

Aunt Framay Has Passed Away

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The Landry family had sad news this week.  My dad’s youngest sister Frances Mae Landry Raley died on February 26, 2020.  She was born May 6, 1934, to Robert Joseph “Rob” or “Pappy” Landry, Sr. and Germaine Erie (our beloved Mee Maw) Patureau Landry.  She was the seventh of eight children.  She was the youngest of four girls.  And she was a real sweetheart.

The Landry and Raley cousins visiting in June 1964 in Jennings, Louisiana.

My earliest memories of her were when I was just a kid.  Aunt Frances would not be considered a dainty woman at this point.  So when she came toward this little 3-year-old boy with her loving heart and big kisses, I was a little bit intimidated!  Like in this picture from June of 1964, she is bending down to greet me with a kiss and I am nowhere to be seen! 

My dad’s Landry family tradition of kissing one another in greeting was off-putting to my mom’s sensibilities and I probably took after her when I was a kid.  But don’t get me wrong.  I always liked my Aunt Framay, but I did avoid those kisses from time to time.  It wasn’t like with Cousin Tez.  We avoided her like the coronavirus.  We didn’t want to catch those bumps.  There is a huge difference.  If you don’t see it, then I didn’t explain it well.

July 4th picnic in Lake Charles circa 1965. Rob Landry, Colleen Raley, Joe & Frances R., Jodie, Van, Betty, and Jamie L., Greg R., Al L., and Scott (I think) R.

This photo is from a year later when the family got together in Lake Charles.  I’m sure it was a July 4th get together for the whole Landry family.  But this picture again shows mainly the Bob Landry family and the Frances Landry Raley family.  I’ve always liked this photo even though it is overexposed. 

Mama is smiling nicely in the photo and Aunt Frances is acting all nonchalant like she’s not thinking about sneaking a kiss from me.  But as you can see, I’m not buying it for an instant!  I’ve got my head turned slightly, just in case she tried a sneak attack.  That woman was light on her feet!

I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t talk like that, especially since she is recently deceased.  But she had a great sense of humor, so I’m sure she’d approve.  The only thing I’ve thought about this photo before tonight was that I wished I had been looking at the camera.  There were no worries about a sneak attack that I can recall.

Me with Aunt Frances at my parents’ 50th wedding anniversary in 2002 sharing a laugh.

What I do remember about Aunt Frances was that not only was she very loving, there was a strength about her.  Very specifically at two tragic events.  The first one was at Mee Maw’s funeral in 1973.  It was the first time I remember witnessing my dad crying.   I also remember him being comforted by his sisters, particularly by Aunt Frances.  She was an emotional rock for the family.   The other event was the funeral of my sister Jodie in 1989.  My parents were really torn up at the loss of their firstborn child.  Aunt Frances’s hugs and kisses were exceptionally comforting on that day.  She had a big heart.

I remember her being a comfort to me at my parents’ deaths in 2017, but at that point her superpowers were starting to wane.  Not that she was any less loving, that power continued until the end of her life.  But her body was giving out slowly as it does with age.  There was no more sneaking around with her powerful hugs and kisses.  That was a definite shame.

There is a line from one of my favorite movies that goes something like, “I can’t continue being stingy with my loving.  Before this I would measure it out and only return what I was given.  Now I see that one must get on with one’s loving.  Giving love is what matters.”  That is the way I saw my Aunt Frances.  Always ready to love.

Even silly little boys who didn’t know what love was when it smacked them in the face! 

Kudos for VMP’s Veterinary Skills

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Article from Saturday July 18, 1908, in the Weekly Iberville South in Plaquemine, Louisiana.

My cousin Wade posted a few old newspaper articles about our great grandfather Vincent Maximilian Patureau recently.  Those old newspaper articles are great.  In small towns they’ll talk about who is visiting who, and in some cases they’ll say how the people are related.  Those have been really helpful to me many times in the past.  The ones Wade posted were helpful in figuring out when Grampa Max relocated his family to Lafayette (April 1912).   I thought I’d post a few newspaper articles talking about his work as a veterinarian.

There are quite a few old articles about Grampa Max, both in Plaquemine and in Lafayette.  Either people were interested in what he was doing because he was an influencer in his time, or he was instrumental in getting the articles published.  Of course sometimes the two go hand in hand.  In fact the first one I have here is a letter that was send to Grampa Max from E. B. Schwing.   It looks like he gave the letter to the newspaper for publishing.  A rave review indeed.

The Weekly Iberville South published this article on June 26, 1909.

I’m glad I found these articles, because before I found them, I questioned his abilities.  In a previous blog I pointed out that he was self-taught and hung a shingle calling himself a veterinarian.  So I enjoy seeing that he was respected and appreciated for his work in the community.  Also in those previous posts I included a photo of a horse and one of a cow.  I wonder if those animals were among the ones he saved for his clients?

I just noticed something after I placed the article titled “Card of Thanks.”  I didn’t recognize the name A. T. Bennett at all.  The Schwing name I have seen in other articles.  It seems to be a respected name in the community.  I think that maybe Mr. Bennett was African American, since he  encouraged his “colored friends” to use the services of Grampa Max.  It sounds like he treated all of his clients well.  That’s a good thing.

Articles from August 9th and 13th, 1912, in the Lafayette Advertiser

It also looks like Max made sure to look after his human customers as well.  A Mr. Begneaud and his son were bitten by their yard dog, which had also bit two other dogs and two cows.  When one of the cows died and another one began to show signs of sickness, Grampa Max came to the rescue with his handy bag of verterinarianish tools!  When he noticed that the dogs were showing signs of rabies, he used his most lethal tool he carried – his Colt No. 2 derringer.  Dr. Patureau strikes again!  He did carry that gun around with him on rounds for that very specific purpose.  Sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do!  He also made sure that Begneaud & Begneaud received the proper treatment in New Orleans.

Now I’ll say it again – Dr. Patureau strikes again!  This time it is in reference to him providing the newspaper with a letter he received showing what a wonderful diagnostician he was.  Grampa Max provided the lab in New Orleans with a sample of the infected cow’s blood and it showed the results he had suspected.  So it looks like Grampa Max knew what he was doing after all.  He deserves a bit more respect.  Maybe I should refer to him as Dr. Patureau more often.

Here is a photo of VMP doing his work in Lafayette around 1912 or so. After reading those newspaper articles, it makes me wonder what Dr. Patureau is going to be doing next.

Soldier’s Joy by HC in ’43

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I got the recording!  Whoo hoo!  I was thinking that I would go ahead as I usually do and write a post about my dad’s side of the family since I wrote about my mom’s side last week.  But I couldn’t get this catchy little tune out of my head.  And besides, I didn’t want to keep you waiting when I already had access to the songs I mentioned last week.  So I decided to continue from last week’s post.

It really is an amazing recording.  Not that the songs all sound wonderful, or it’s a great recording of the songs.  It’s just such an historic record of my great grandparents playing music.  I recorded just a clip of one of the tracks on my iPhone.  It starts off with one of the Phenice family women (if you are able to identify who it is, please let me know) introducing the music by saying, “June the twelfth nineteen hundred and forty-three (1943) will very likely become a memorable day to all the members of this Phenice family, because for the first time we are to have a phonographic record of our family reunion instead of the usual photographic one.”  I’m so glad that they said the date. 

Since they said the date, I thought I’d find a photo from around the same time.  So I looked in my Phenice folder and found a good photo.  I had posted a version of the photo previously, but in the meantime I have obtained a better quality image.  At least I thought I posted it before!  I just looked again and can’t find it anywhere.  I guess I posted it on Facebook before I actually started this blog over four years ago.  My how time flies!

I had estimated the date of the photo as 1943 based on the age of my uncle Austin Bucklin.  He is the toddler in the front of the photo.  But then when I looked at the photo this time, I realized that Grandma Phenice (my mom’s maternal grandmother Daisy Keys Phenice) was holding a baby.  I looked through my family tree information and found that in 1943 Daisy had a new granddaughter named Linda Phenice.  She’s the one who got this recording to me!  So the photo was taken a few months after March of 1943, which is pretty close to June 12, 1943.

I wonder if the photo was taken on the same day as the songs were recorded?  She says on the recording that it was a Phenice family reunion.  This photo is a Phenice family group.  But in the recording she says that they were making a phonographic record of the family “instead of” a photographic one.  So maybe it was on a different day.  Or maybe she meant to say “as well as” in her statement and she misspoke.  You know how it is when you talk on one of those newfangled recording instruments – you get a little nervous!  Then again, Sylvan Phenice is not in the photo and he was the one that made the record.  He could have taken the photo, but then his wife Mary would have been in the photo.  Oh, well, we know that the sound recording and the photo were taken close to the same time.

The rest of the clip of the recording that I’m sharing this week is a song called “Soldier’s Joy” with Harry Clifton Phenice on the fiddle accompanied by his wife Daisy on the piano.  It’s a very old timey sounding fiddling song.  I looked it up and it originates from around the mid 1700s and has its roots in Scottish fiddling tradition.  There has been some talk that the Phenice family and name may have Scottish origins, so I find that fact fascinating.  The song was associated with the Civil War, too.  HC’s dad Samuel was a soldier in the Civil War, so I wonder if he thought of his dad when he played it.

The song is not only associated with the Civil War, but the term “soldier’s joy” came to refer to the combination of whiskey, beer, and morphine used by Civil War soldiers.  In fact, when talking about it Wikipedia quoted these song lyrics:

Gimme some of that Soldier’s Joy, you know what I mean’
I don’t want to hurt no more my leg is turnin’ green

That kinda made me laugh because Samuel was shot in the leg in the Battle of the Wilderness during the Civil War.   While staying in the hospital, skirmishes around the area kept medicine from being delivered and Samuel ended up getting gangrene.  I hope he got some morphine eventually!  That sounds mighty painful! 

So enough talking about the song.  It’s time to listen to it.  Just click on the link below.  And now I can say that I did my part in making June 12, 1943, a memorable day for this Phenice family!

 

Musical Keys and Phenice Family News

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I’ve had some exciting news about the Keys and Phenice family lately.  Sometimes I look for things and can’t find them, which can be frustrating.  Other times I find hints about them and have to track them down for a while.  Sometimes I give up altogether and go searching for something else.  Occasionally something that I’ve given up on will fall right into my lap.  That’s what happened in the first part of this blog.

Clockwise from top left: Irma Hetzel Phenice, Daisy Keys Phenice, Marguerite Phenice, and Sylvia Bucklin. This photo was taken around 1932 in Hathaway, Louisiana.

Before I tell you that story, I thought I’d share a related photo.  I’ve been thinking of sharing this one for a while.  There is an old timey charm about it.  I took a photo of a photo at the Keys Family Reunion in 2017.  I can’t remember who shared it with me, but I do appreciate it.   The older woman on the right is my great grandmother Daisy Keys Phenice.  She was my mom’s maternal grandmother. 

The younger woman on the left is her future daughter-in-law Irma Hetzel.  She would marry Daisy’s son Henry in 1934.  The dark-haired girl in the photo (her face can’t be seen) is Daisy’s youngest child Marguerite.  Marguerite would marry Thomas Hill in 1943.  The youngest person in the photo is my aunt Sylvia Bucklin.  She was oldest daughter of Myrtle Phenice Bucklin, who was the middle daughter of Daisy.

I’m not sure what they are doing in the photo, but it looks like they could be listening to music.  This brings us back to the story I was wanting to tell.  Many years ago, about 1972, my mom somehow got a collection of old records from her Uncle Sylvan.  He was a son of Daisy and he was big into sound systems and recordings.   He had a company for many years called Sylvan’s Sound Service and one of the things he did was put intercom systems in the schools of Calcasieu and surrounding Parishes back in the day.

So if you are from that area and are old enough, you probably heard your morning news at school through the sound system of old Uncle Sylvan.  But the recordings that my mom got were even more special than that.  He had some old recordings of family conversations and singalongs from back in the 1940s or so.  I’ve shared some of those before.  I shared my grandmother Myrtle singing a few songs and my mom’s paternal grandmother Addie telling a story.  It’s nice to hear those old voices from the past.

I had some of the recordings, but not all of them.  I heard somewhere along the way that there was a recording of my great grandparents Daisy and Harry singing “Daisy Bell (Bicycle Built For Two)” together.  There was also a recording of Harry playing a song on the fiddle.  Supposedly, a recording was given to my dad and he was going to digitize it for them.  So when we were clearing out my parents’ home, I was on the lookout for it.  That’s when I found the recordings of Myrtle singing and Addie telling her story.   I couldn’t find the recordings of Harry and Daisy.  I even went through the archives at my sister and brother-in-law’s house, but it was nowhere to be found.  I gave them up for lost.  I didn’t tell you all about that, because I don’t like to tell sad stories.  (Ha!)

I’m telling you now, because it’s a happy story!  One of my mom’s cousins sent me a note that said that she has the recording of Daisy and Harry singing, as well as the recording of Harry playing the fiddle!  Whoo hoo!  She said the recordings were in bad shape and needed some help.  I offered to help.  Even if I didn’t know how to do any editing, I would have offered.  I would have learned just so I could hear those old wonderful recordings that I had thought were lost forever.  Don’t get too excited, because I don’t have them yet.  I think they are near and I hope to get them soon.  Then I will share them with everyone.  Remember, patience is a virtue.

The other news I have is a bit more rewarding.  While the other is a preview of something in the future, this is a realized view of something from the past.  A couple of years ago when I was looking at the Phenice side of the family, I came across some information about Grandma Myrtle’s first cousin.  Her name was Doris Enola Phenice and she lived in Colorado.  Like my grandmother she was a schoolteacher for many years.  When she was an elderly single woman, she befriended a couple who ended up caring for her at the end of her life.  They also put together a book about her life and her family that included photos and such.  There was some contact information, so I wrote them a note and said that I’d be interested in seeing that book.

So I waited patiently.  I didn’t hear anything back from that first message I sent.  I mentioned it to a distant Phenice cousin and she tried contacting them the same way and got a response.  She shared the phone number of the couple who put together the book.  I tried writing an email again…  And waited again.   Sometimes I think I confuse forgetfulness with patience. 

Anna Armina Stockton Phenice and Chauncey Phenice in Victor, Colorado, in 1900.

Then one day recently I was looking for some information about a DNA match.  This person was a descendant of Chauncey Phenice.  Chauncey was the oldest brother of my great grandfather Harry Phenice and he was the father of Doris Enola.  I found the phone number of that couple and decided to call.  The woman is still alive, but sadly she recently became a widow.  She was very friendly and said that she would be glad to send me a copy of the book that they put together.

She followed through and now I have the book!  I found out a few more interesting things about the Phenice family, but the thing I was most excited about was finding a photo of Chauncey.  I have several photos of Harry’s sisters and his brother Edd, but I didn’t have any of his brothers Chauncey or William Emory.  Now I just need to find one of William Emory!

The picture of him is when he and his wife were living in Victor, Colorado.  They went there with Will (William Emory) for a short time to try their hand at gold mining.  One of my favorite photos of my great grandfather Harry is one of him in a gold mine.  I didn’t realize that gold mining was a family tradition.  You can see from the photo that includes Harry and Edd that there is a family resemblance in the three brothers that are in the photos.

1906 in Nebraska. Top row: Daisy Keys Phenice (wife of Harry), Lola Myrtle Phenice, Emma Orra Phenice. Bottom row: Harry Clifton Phenice and James Edmund “Edd” Phenice.

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