Back to Ireland 2017

September 1st, 2017

Ian decided to go the Cambridge-Pembroke honors program over the summer and the BYU London Center in the fall. He had a ten-day gap between the programs. That led to a discussion about how I’d promised to go with the children to Ireland, as my father had done with me. The trip turned into a group project over the summer planning it. Joseph, Ian, Ariel, and Callie would travel with me to Ireland. Then, it became England and Ireland; and finally, England, Ireland, and France.

We used the Hopper iPhone App to hunt for and buy discount tickets. Ariel bought her ticket first, then Callie and me, and finally Joseph. All the discount fares were remarkably cheap but costs skyrocketed as we sorted through hotel accommodations and the rent-a-car in Ireland. Adding France meant either a flight or taking the Eurostar train from Paris, France to London, England. We thought it would be cheaper than a flight, but it turned out to be more.

With some of the hotels prepaid, we began getting nearer the departure day when we realized there was a totality solar eclipse two days before we flew to England. With some indecision initially, Ariel, Callie, and I finally left the day before the totality to avoid traffic, which was 8 August 2017. That became a wise decision when we learned the drive from Rexburg, Idaho to Salt Lake City, Utah would take over eight hours on Monday afternoon or Tuesday after the eclipse. We stayed with Joseph from Sunday until Tuesday evening, and we experienced the partial eclipse with him in his home in Harriman, Utah.

The day of the eclipse I took Callie to an oral surgeon because she had tooth pain. Unbeknown to me, she had had the pain for two months or more. When they took and displayed the x-ray of her mouth, it was obvious to me that the right upper wisdom tooth was the problem and it would need to be removed. However, we waited to hear what the oral surgeon had to say. He said the same thing, and we had the one wisdom tooth removed.

After removing the tooth, we filled her prescription and went back to Joseph’s town home. On his little balcony we watched the solar eclipse from a perspective outside of a totality. It was interesting because the temperature declined by about twenty and the light diminished significantly. Then, Ariel said she had tooth pain. Fortunately, I was able to schedule a dental appointment for Ariel in Riverton, Utah for Tuesday afternoon.

The next day, I got our Honda Pilot serviced in the morning and took Ariel to the dentist in the afternoon. She had two fillings but the dentist felt the problem was probably the lack of a crown on her molar that had had a root canal. Unfortunately, we couldn’t manage a crown in anything less than a week and a half or two weeks.

After Ariel’s dental work, we returned Ariel to Joseph’s town home. Then, Callie and I drove to the Springhill Suite at the Salt Lake Airport. I had tried to cancel the reservation but Marriott changed their policy from a 24-hour prior notice to 48-hour prior notice for cancellation and I was two hours too late to cancel the reservation. We had booked the hotel because originally our flight left at 6 a.m. but now it left after 10:50 in the morning. However, we decided to stay at the Springhill Suites because we were going to pay for it anyway and it let us sleep an additional thirty minutes.

We flew from the Salt Lake City Airport to the Dallas/Fort Worth Airport, and then we flew nonstop from Dallas/Fort Worth Airport to Heathrow Airport outside of London, England. After we cleared immigration and customs, we felt we had six hours or so before Ariel’s flight would land and Ariel would clear immigration and customs. We bought roundtrip express train tickets to Paddington Station and texted Ariel instructions to do the same when she landed.

The airport didn’t let you stay in an area with facilities once you arrived and cleared immigration and customs. Since Callie and I couldn’t wait inside the airport after clearing immigration and customs, we went to our hotel in the Kensington district of London where we were able to check our bags for the morning. Callie and I decided to get something to eat and go visit Buckingham Palace.

While we were outside of Buckingham Palace, we found out that Ariel cleared immigration and customs in a quarter of the time that it took us to do the same. We told her to take the express train from the Heathrow Airport to the Paddington Station where we would meet her. We then walked back to the nearest London Underground station and made our way back to Paddington Station.

Ariel also contacted Ian, and he came down from Cambridge to meet Ariel at Paddington Station, London. We all connected at Paddington Station. Then, we all went to our hotel in Kensington and checked in to the hotel. Ariel and Ian setup Ian’s new iPhone, which I’d brought from the United States. Then, we went to Harrods’s Department Store to get Ian an iPhone case because we’d failed to think about that previously.

It was surreal to finally go inside Harrods. It is a massive department store, that holds one of London’s Apple Stores. We got Ian a case to protect his new iPhone. At that point, Ian needed to leave to catch his train back to Cambridge. He still had a closing dinner to attend that night. Ariel, Callie, and I went to explore Kensington, find a grocery store for Ariel, and then walk back to our hotel.

That Friday, we got up and went to see the Tower of London, Parliament, Westminster Cathedral, and took a ride on the Thames from Westminster to the Tower of London. Ariel didn’t want to see the Tower of London, so we walked to Saint Paul’s Cathedral and explored the first floor and basement before we climbed to the top of the dome roof. It was 257 stairs to the internal balcony of the dome and 528 stairs to the top of Saint Paul’s Cathedral, which is approximately 360 feet or 33 stories. They told us we probably had the best view from Saint Paul in years because of the weather.

After ascending Saint Paul’s Cathedral, we walked across the Millennium Walking Bridge, which crosses the Thames. It’s the same walking bridge that is destroyed in Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince. We walked back to the Tower of London, but it was closed for the day. Then, we took the ferry from Tower Hill to Westminster for our return trip.

In Westminster, we explored Big Ben and Westminster Abbey before walking to Buckingham Palace so Ariel could see it. Callie and I had visited Buckingham Palace the previous. Then, we went back to Kensington, ate, and went to bed because we were tired – having walked over 9 miles for the last two days and climbed more than 45 flights of stairs.

We went back to the Tower of London on Saturday morning after eating. We beat most of the others who would visit the Tower of London and only a five-minute wait in line to see the crown jewels of England. We then took a tour of the Tower of London and wandered on the battlements. I was a bit disappointed in crown jewel display because they show far fewer items than they displayed during my earlier visits in 1986 and 1987.

We then walked across the new London Bridge and back. Then, we took the Underground back to Kensington to pick up our bags and went to Paddington Station to meet Joseph. Together as a foursome, we went to Kings Cross Station, which adjoins St. Pancras Train Station. We got something to eat outside the station, and explored the area around stations before taking the train to Gatewick Airport.

We discovered that the train to Gatewick Airport stops to pick up addition passenger at the Blackfriars station, which is on a bridge over the river Thames. The train has an excellent view of the new London Bridge from the left side when you’re travelling to Gatewick Airport. We stopped for about 5 minutes on the bridge enroute to Gatewick Airport, which gave Joseph a chance to see the new London Bridge.

We got to the Gatewick Airport with an hour to spare for our flight from Gatewick Airport to the Dublin Airport. We cleared immigration and customs without any problem, and then we waited for Ian’s arrival. Ian flew out of Stansted Airport, which was closer to Cambridge. Unfortunately, Ian left his bag on the airplane and we had a distended wait until he and his bag could join us. We got a cab from the Dublin Airport to the Crowne Plaza Hotel. We arrived very late and everything was closed. We would continue to arrive late throughout the trip, which meant we had few choices for dinner. We ordered Pizza, and it arrived a little after one in the morning at the hotel.

On Sunday, we returned to the airport to rent our car and drove into Dublin to walk around. We went to Grafton Street, Temple Bar Street, Trinity College, Dublin Castle, and meandered along both sides of River Liffey. It was a very enjoyable day. While we had planned two days in Dublin, everybody felt they had seen everything in Dublin and they wanted to add the Ring of Kerry to our itinerary.

We made the change and secured an Airbnb in Newcastle West, which is in County Limerick, Ireland. We made the decision based on the hotel desk saying we could check out early but then she corrected herself in the morning and said we’d prepaid and couldn’t check out early. Unfortunately, we now would have to pay for both accommodations. On Monday, we headed off to Newcastle West in County Limerick. Along the way we would stop at the Rock of Cashel in County Tipperary, which was marvelous. We also visited Cahir Castle in County Tipperary, which was also marvelous. Then, we drove to our Airbnb in Newcastle West.

We arrived in Newcastle West about 6:30 in the evening. Unlike big cities, there was no late night delivery service other than a seedy looking Chinese restaurant. We opted to go to the supermarket, which was open until 8:00 in the evening. We bought some prepackaged and sliced roast beef and turkey, bread, and drinks. We enjoyed the meal in our rented home, which was on the south side of the River Arra.

On Tuesday, we drove to Killarney and then counter clockwise around the Ring of Kerry. We went counter clockwise to avoid being stuck behind tour buses. We drove through Killarney to Ross Castle, which we stopped to visit and explore. Then, we drove through Killarney National Park and stopped at Muckross House, which is an eighteenth century mansion undamaged from the frequent tenant uprising of the 19th century. It has beautiful vista all around it.

After Muckross House, we began driving the Ring of Kerry and made our next stop at Mulls Gap. It was a stunning view of the valley through which we had driven. Callie was jumping for joy, as captured by Joseph’s photograph.

We stopped along the Ring of Kerry (N70) road at Tahilla. There was a pull out just west of the village where we took some excellent photographs and Joseph flew his drone.

This is us at the Rock of Cashel in Ireland:

McLaughlin’s Cavalry

July 26th, 2014

William McLaughlin was the brother of my second great grandfather, and the namesake of McLaughlin’s Squadron of Volunteer Cavalry. Like his brother Anthony, he changed the spelling of his name from McLoughlin to McLaughlin because it was politically astute. He came to the United States sometime around 1829-1830, as the story goes through Canada. He settled in Mansfield County. Anthony would latter settle in Galion County on the way to Mansfield.

William McLaughlin died in 1862 after the Battle of Middle Creek, which contributed to keeping Kentucky in the Union and forcing the Confederate forces to leave eastern Kentucky. It’s also the first major skirmish (few killed or wounded) that prepared the way for the invasion of Tennessee by Union forces. McLaughlin’s Squadron of Cavalry along with the 43rd Ohio Infantry were assigned picket duty and part of the reserve during the battle. They were involved in many skirmishes during and after the Battle of Middle Creek.

Kennedy Cousins

January 23rd, 2013

The Atckison family are related to the Kennedy family through the marriage of James Kennedy (1868) and Mary Atckison (1869). Mary is the daughter of Charles Atckison and mother of Hazel Kennedy who wrote a letter that circulates on the Internet. Unfortunately, the letter has some elements of truth and fiction.

Before I qualify her letter, I thought it would be important to provide the details on the Kennedy family’s origin before they arrived in Minnesota. James parents were Patrick Kennedy and Mary Dunn. Here’s their genealogy information:

  • Patrick Kennedy
    Born: Abt 1821, St. John, Newfoundland, Canada
    Married: 22 Oct 1852, Guysborough, Nova Scotia, Canada
    Died: 9 Sep 1899, Burns, Anoka, Minnesota
    Parents:
    Father: Donald Kennedy
    Born: 1791, Newfoundland, Canada
    Married: Abt 1822, Guysborough, Nova Scotia, Canada
    Died: 11 Sep 1874, Guysborough, Nova Scotia, Canada
    Mother: Bridgette
    Born: Abt 1787, County Kilkenny, Ireland
    Died: Bef 1874, Guysborough, Nova Scotia, Canada
  • Mary Bridget Dunn
    Born: Abt 1829, Guysborough, Nova Scotia, Canada
    Died: 3 Jan 1899, Burns, Anoka, Minnesota
    Parents:
    Father: Hugh Dunn
    Born: 1799, Merigomish, Pictou, Nova Scotia, Canada

Donald and James Kennedy appear to be brothers, and their father appears to be Issac Kennedy, mustered out from the Duke of Cumberland’s Regiment in Palisadoes, Jamaica the 24th of August 1783; and he subsequently was transported to Nova Scotia, Canada during the same year. He served in the 2nd Battalion in Captain Gideon White’s Company. The majority of the Duke of Cumberland’s Regiment was mustered from South Carolina loyalists and captured rebels held in Charleston prisons. Hugh’s father was William Dunn, and he mustered out from the Royal North Carolina Regiment in Nova Scotia in November 1783. The Royal North Carolina Regiment was mustered in 1779 from North Carolina refugees in Augusta, Georgia. It took major roles in the capture of Charleston, South Carolina; and was with Cornwalis at Yorktown when the British surrendered.

Patrick Kennedy and Mary Dunn were married and began raising their family in Salmon River, Guysborough, Nova Scotia, Canada. They resided in Guysborough, Nova Scotia, Canada until after the Canada Census, 1871; and they arrived in Anoka, Anoka, Minnesota after the Minnesota State Census in 1875. Donald and Bridgette are listed in the Canada Census, 1871, co-habitating with Patrick’s family; it appears that he’s their father. Here’s the extract from the 1871 Canada Census:

KennedyCanada1871

It’s unclear exactly when the Kennedy’s moved from Canada to Minnesota, but there are many from Nova Scotia that moved to Anoka County Minnesota and the vicinity. Patrick’s obituary indicates 1873 but it seems more likely that it was after his father’s death in 1874 and before 1875 as qualified below.

The Anoka Herald, 22 Sep 1899

Another Old Settler Gone

Patrick Kennedy of Burns died at his home last week Thursday, September 14, at the age of 76. His wife died about eight months ago, and from that time to the day of his death a gradual failing in his health was perceptible, but he was confined to his bed only a few hours before his death. Deceased was born in St. John’s, New Foundland, afterword re-moving to Nova Scotia, and coming to Anoka County in 1873, where he resided till his death. His children are four sons and three daughters, the former being John, James, Hugh and Richard, and the daughters, Jane, Judith, Eliza. Mr. Kennedy was a man of absolute integrity and uprightness and was esteemed and respected by a large circle of acquaintences. His funeral was held at St. Stephen’s church Saturday, and was attended by a very large number of his friends.

The obituary shorts the number of sons, and drops Donald and Patrick. The age from the obituary differs by two years; I’ve opted for the date provided in virtually all record sources because Patrick’s are listed very consistently. It also lists their arrival in Minnesota as before the Minnesota 1875 State Census (in 1873). Originally, I missed them in the Minnesota Territorial Census, but I found them and confirmed their arrival in Minnesota before 1875.

They are not living in Anoka county in 1875 but rather in Dayton, Hennipen county. The following is taken from the physical Minnesota Territorial Census, and demonstrates that both Patrick’s and Mary’s parents were born in Canada. Patrick’s were born in Newfoundland, and Mary’s were born in Nova Scotia; and this would put to rest where Donald was born except the 1871 Canada Census says Patrick’s parents were born in Ireland.

KennedyMinnesota1875

It appears that the Kennedy family moved to Anoka county after the 1880 Federal Census. A summary of the 1880 US Federal Census finds them still residing in Dayton, Hennipen, Minnesota.

KennedyUS1880

There are at least two arrivals in Boston for Patrick Kennedy. One with his daughter Judy in 1873 and one by himself in 1884. It seems clear that they had adequate funds to travel, but it’s unclear how they actually immigrated as a family. It appears that they traveled across Nova Scotia and probably through Toronto, as did most immigrants from eastern Canada to Minnesota. No records support this conjecture, and likewise no immigration records in Boston support the immigration of the entire family.

The frequency of Kennedy families in the area makes it hard to know who belongs in this family unless you have specific knowledge. My knowledge came from my grandmother, Margaret Mary Atckison, who was the niece of James Kennedy. Here are the children of Patrick and Mary Kennedy and the siblings of James Charles Kennedy:

  • Jane Kennedy
    Born: Abt 1856, Guysborough, Nova Scotia, Canada
    Married: 22 Feb 1897, Anoka, Anoka, Minnesota
    Whom: Michael Casey
    Died: 27 Oct 1935
  • Hugh Kennedy
    Born: 12 Aug 1857, Guysborough, Nova Scotia, Canada
    Married: Unknown
    Died: 8 Apr 1914, Anoka, Anoka, Minnesota
  • John Kennedy
    Born: Abt 1859, Guysborough, Nova Scotia, Canada
    Married: Unknown
    Died: 30 Nov 1905, Anoka, Anoka, Minnesota
  • Donald Kennedy
    Born: 7 Jan 1861, Guysborough, Nova Scotia, Canada
    Married: Unknown
    Died: 24 May 1891, Milaca, Mille Lacs, Minnesota
  • Judith Mary Kennedy
    Born: Abt 1864, Guysborough, Nova Scotia, Canada
    Married: Unknown
    Died: 25 Jan 1939, Milaca, Mille Lacs, Minnesota
  • James Kennedy
    Born: 30 Oct 1866, Guysborough, Nova Scotia, Canada
    Married: 26 Jun 1894, Anoka, Anoka, Minnesota
    Whom: Mary Catherine Atckison
    Died: 2 Feb 1930, Anoka, Anoka, Minnesota
    Burial: 5 Feb 1930, Anoka, Anoka, Minnesota
  • Patrick Kennedy
    Born: 4 Jan 1867, Guysborough, Nova Scotia, Canada
    Married: Unknown
    Died: 16 Oct 1892, Burns, Anoka, Minnesota
  • Richard Kennedy
    Born: 5 Jun 1869, Guysborough, Nova Scotia, Canada
    Married: Unknown
    Died: 21 Nov 1949, Anoka, Anoka, Minnesota
  • Eliza Kennedy
    Born: 1 Dec 1871, Guysborough, Nova Scotia, Canada
    Married: Unknown
    Died: 5 Dec 1909, Minneapolis, Hennepin, Minnesota

Here’s a screen shot from the Minnesota 1885 State Census before any of the children were married. Click on the image to see the full size view.

Kennedy_1885_Image

Having provided the correct information on the Kennedy family of Anoka, Minnesota, here’s the letter left by James’s daughter Hazel Kennedy with italicized parenthetical remarks qualifying grandparents and great-grandparents:

This is the way I have the history. There were two Atckison boys, Michael and Charles. Both born in London, England. it seems to me they lost their father and their mother married again. The stepfather was not Catholic and he would send Charles on to school if he would give up his religion. But he refused.

Mike left England and came to into the United States by the way of Canada. He got a job, saved his money and sent for Charles to come to the U.S. He also came to Minnesota by the way of Canada. (There are no Canadian records to support this, but it’s possible. However, immigration records can be found for Michael arriving in 1848 and Charles in 1851 through New York.) Finally, the civil war broke out and Mike, being older, enlisted at a very early age around 14 or 15. At first he was a drummer boy but as time went on he joined the Calvalry. I saw his saddle with bullet holes in it because he had it home on the farm. But when the house burned down, the saddle was burned also. He came through the war without being wounded. (Actually, Michael (Atchison) was 33 when the war started and enlisted in the 8th Minnesota Infantry and served as a private throughout the war. It should be noted that the 8th Minnesota fought as a mounted infantry regiment, and Company A represents enlistees from Anoka County. They were assigned to the Chippewa Agency in Anoka by December 1862, as a result of the US-Dakota War of 1862. They fought various indian skirmishes through 1864 when they were assigned to the 3rd Brigade, 1st Division, 23rd Corps; and they followed Hood to the Tennessee river. Lastly, they were assigned to North Carolina in March 1865 where they did provost guard duty in Raleigh until 12 May 1865 when they were ordered to Charlotte, where they were ordered home to Minnesota and mustered out of service 11 Jul 1865.)

Mike married a girl named Shay and Charles a girl named Kathleen Murphy. She was from Lama, Ohio. (No records support this claim.) I am not sure about the town. Her death was due to a blow on the head. One afternoon, she made a social call at the school to visit the teacher. On the way home, a neighbor, Mrs. Daly, approached her at the fork of the road and hit her over the head with a board. She was never the same after that. No doubt had a blood clot on the brain. She was sent away for treatment but it never helped much. If it had happened today there might be some hope. The reason for hitting her was that Mrs. Daly thought she was telling the teacher something about her. That was all wrong for her name was not mentioned. Kathleen was a very pleasant and jolly person. Was well liked in the community. (This is a fable constructed to protect the grandchildren, like Hazel, from knowing that Catherine [nee Murphy] Atckison suffered from what would be called post pardum depression and she died in a Sanitorium in Los Angeles. Those records are held by the Anoka County Genealogical Society.)

I was informed by some of the old timers that Charles had a beautiful tenor voice; they always had him sing at gatherings and parties. Mike has three children: George (never married), Frank (had one daughter – Anna), and Mary Jane. Charles: John (Children – Bertha, Margaret, Agnes, John, Genevieve and Evelyn), Jim (Children – Inez, Raymond and Ed.), Mike, Henry (had one child – died very young), David (died very young 15 Oct 1885 – a tree fell on him when they were cutting wood.), Margaret (died 1 July 1895) and Mary (7).

After my long search, I did find an old dilapidated book that Charles kept records for the school. He was treasurer for the School District 23 dated back to 1878. He was a very good penman (Interesting, since most records list him as illiterate.). He spelled his name Atckison (the more conventional spelling is Atcheson or Atchison and that would make the name of Scottish origin most like though the James plantation of Ireland after the unification of the crowns in 1603). Looking through, I found where they paid Hannah C. Ward for teaching – Uncle Jims wife. I also found when Grandmother and Grandfather died.

Grandmother (Catherine Atckison) – November 15, 1892
Grandfather (Charles Atckison) – August 5, 1902
David (Murphy) – October 15, 1885
Maggie (Honora Murphy) – July 1, 1895

No records of birth given.

As I understand it, the name Atckison is English. I think the boys kept their own name. The stepfather was connected with the English Parliment. (It’s surreal where this idea comes from because all state and federal census records state their birth as Ireland; and so do their immigration records.) I must say this was a long time coming. No one seems to know any of the background. I hope this helped you out.

Hazel Kennedy

p.s. the house on the Atckison farm is still there but the barn is gone. the land is being sold into lots.

The origin of Michael and Charles Atckison appears to be Ireland based on all state and federal documents. It also appears that Charles was living in Sligo, Ireland when the Griffith’s Primary Valuation was taken in 1851. Further research needs to isolate the parish and determine if there are records for that period. As a rule, written parish records don’t exist in the rural Irish parishes before 1829.

If you have updated information or source information you’d like added please email me through the contact page.

25 years so far …

December 13th, 2012

Twenty-five years of marriage and nine children, we could only marshall eight for the photo this year because Elise had to work that day. We hope to get a complete set of photographs early next year.

This seemed like a great picture to post since it has the boys, girls, and us in a collage. Next bench mark is probably 50 year anniversary, hope that I make it.

First LDS Missionary

September 18th, 2010

I was the first Latter-day Saint missionary in my family. My call took me to the Italy Catania Mission, which included the boot of Italy, the island of Sicily, the smaller islands around Sicily, and the island of Malta. The Italy Catania Mission ceased to exist on July 1st 2010 when it was merged with the Italy Rome mission.

When I served the island of Malta was closed to missionary work and none of the little islands or small towns had missionaries. All of these photos came from other Elders or Sisters since I hadn’t brought a camera on my mission.

The flights from Salt Lake City to Italy Catania took about 25 hours with layovers between flights. We checked out at 5 a.m. from the Missionary Training Center, and they drove us to the Salt Lake City Airport. We waited a couple hours before our flight to Denver, Colorado. There we waited a couple more hours for our flight to New York’s Kennedy Airport. We took off from Kennedy on a Pan Am flight to Rome, Italy. We arrived the next morning, and waited almost six hours before our next flight. The last flight went from Rome to Catania, and we were exhausted.

While we didn’t know that the airport was under construction, we landed at what appeared to be an old military airbase. There was no terminal. We went through customs and retrieved our baggage in what appeared to be an 18th century villa. There was a modern airport in Catania when I completed my mission. The photo to the left was taken of a plane taxiing as ours did in October 1980. The mission office personnel picked us up in an old Volkswagen bus and drove us to Catania. They took us through the narrow scenic gate that dates from the 17th century. They then deposited us in a pensione where we could get some sleep.

The next day we walked down to the mission home. The photo above looks straight down Corso Sicilia where the mission headquarters was located. The large palazzo (apartment building at the end of the street is where the mission president lived on the 9th floor.

My mission president was Lino Pablo Gambarotto. He was a wonderful man who served with great diligence. He was beloved by the members. President Gambarrotto was born in Italy but grew up in Argentina where he converted to the church. The image to the left was virtually the same for all Elders and Sisters who arrived in the mission when President Gambarotto presided over the mission. President Gambarotto would say, “Benvenuto, Anziano.” or “Sorella.”

The next photograph is the official mission picture of President and Sister Gambarotto. It was taken in their apartment. They were a wonderful couple and President and Sister Gambarotto took quiet and personal ownership of all the missionaries. They served all of us with great grace and comfort.

The in-processing at the mission home was a whirlwind. After the mission home, we went to the President’s apartment for dinner at 2 p.m. in the afternoon. There we met missionaries on their way home and saw a slide show about the mission. After the slide show missionaries who served in our assigned cities told us where we would first serve in the mission field. I felt blessed to only have to drive a short distance to my first city, which was the same city as the mission home. I was exhausted for several days. Elder Harrison took the photo the second day I was in the district before we went out to do missionary work.

My first assignment was to the mission home city of Catania. I had a wonderful companion named Elder Stewart. He was an avid hockey fan, which seems to be the rule across Canada. He came from the Ontario province of Canada. The photograph on the left was taken one evening after working hard all day, while the one on the right was taken on All Hallows Eve (Halloween) after we got soaked waiting for buses that never came. Buses often didn’t come when the drivers called a strike, which seemed to be a weekly occurrence sometimes.

A major requirement was to pass-off all of the missionary discussions word-for-word. I studied hard to accomplish that. Elder Stewart took the picture of me studying the discussions in early November 1980. I hadn’t quite got them all done before Elder Stewart was transferred to Bari.

Elder Shupe replaced Elder Stewart. We worked together for two months when he went home having served his two years. The following picture is the Catania District 1 and it was taken new years day 1981 from the top of the building where the President and Sister Gambarotto resided.

After Elder Shupe went home, my new companion was Elder Bartlett. He had just been released as Branch President in Lecce. The third week we found Giuseppe Privitiera. We taught him for 5 weeks before he, his wife, and oldest daughter were baptized. It was the week that I was transferred to Foggia.

April 1981 transfers brought two departures from the Foggia District. My companion Elder Tenney was transferred to Bari. Elder Smith’s companion was also transferred but I don’t recall where he went. Elder Smith and I are waving from the platform as the train prepares for departure (Elder Oaks took the photo). Elder Potter came the next day as my new companion and Elder Thomas became Elder Smith’s new companion. I believe Elder Neumann took this photograph.

While serving in the city of Foggia, we had responsibilities to teach in the city of Lucera, Italy. Lucera is an old Estruscan city. We took turns teaching there one day a month for each companionship. It cost almost 10,000 lira for a round trip for bus fare to and from the city. My companion, Elder Potter, took the photograph of me standing next to one of the two remaining statues of Augustus Caesar in Lucera. We climbed the walls in May 1981 because we had a couple hours after our appointments and couldn’t tract during the Italian siesta. Italians schedule lunch from 2 p.m. until 5 p.m., and tracting doesn’t work too well until after about 7 p.m.

Elder Potter took the preceding picture of me on the parapet of the Hohenstaufen Castle in Lucera. It was built by the House of Hohenstaufen, or by the Holy Emporer Frederick the II in the thirteenth century.

We had the opportunity to baptize Elio Constantino on 17 June 1981. It was interesting that we received permission to baptize him because his parents weren’t ready for baptism.

His parents were baptized later in the year. His mother was baptized in November and father was baptized in December. I didn’t get back to Foggia during my mission but stopped their three years later to check on them.

We went back as a district to Lucera on a preparation tourism day. It was 2 July 1981. It was after transfers and Elder Oaks had gone to Trapani, which was about as far as you could go for a transfer. Foggia was the second most northern city and Trapani was the western most city on the island of Sicily.

We took this photo on the east wall of Hohenstaufen Castle. The turret in the background is where Elder Potter shot the previous photo of me.

I was transferred to Palermo on 16 July 1981. It was more than a 1,200 kilometer transfer. A train from Foggia to Bari, another from Bari to Reggio Calabria, a ferry across to Messina, and another train from Messina to Palermo. I left Foggia a little after 3 P.M. and got to Reggio Calabria at about 6 A.M. the next day. The picture is of me on the ferry crossing with Messina in the background. I still had more than six hours before I’d get to Palermo. I arrived in Palermo 17 July 1981, and had a memorable taxi ride where the driver wanted a thousand lira per bag plus my fare.

My companion (Elder Parry) and I had the blessing of baptizing the first Sicilian member’s father into the church. He was 85 years old at the time of his baptism into the Church and a veteran of WWI. His name is Bernardo Giurintano. Unfortunately, Bernardo’s son is no longer a member of the church but his grand children are active members of the Palermo Branch. Bernardo was baptized on 26 July 1981 by my companion Elder Parry.

On August 12th, the zone leaders told me I was being transferred to the mission home as the supply manager. The photo to the right was taken on August 13th (my father’s sixtieth birthday) while I was waiting for the bus to Catania (taken by Elder Parry my companion). Fortunately, he provided me the original slide rather than a copy. Many of the copies that I had made during my mission turned out to be a bit blurry, which I didn’t really notice until they were digitized.

Unlike the almost five hour train trip from Messina to Palermo, I took the bus from Palermo to Catania. It took only two and half hours and was air conditioned. Such a superior arrangement to the train stopping at every small village without any air conditioning.

As soon as I got to the mission home, my training began. It took a month to learn my new responsibilities as the supply manager and assistant financial secretary. The following is a photo of my office with Elder Bingham teaching me my new job.

Return to Belmullet

September 6th, 2010

For years my father discussed how we would travel as a family to Ireland to visit the cousins. He just never got around to it. In 1984, a year after my mother’s death, I decided to go on my own. That meant I didn’t know exactly where they lived. I knew they lived north of Belmullet, County Mayo. I knew they lived on Fox Point. What’s odd, is that I drove up that dirt road until I got to the next to last home before I stopped. It happened to be their home.

When I got home and had some of my slides developed, I told my dad and showed him the photographs. He was quite bothered. He said we needed to go back with my aunt Margaret Therese Fedele (my dad’s sister) that year. I took an unpaid leave and my father picked up all the expenses.

We opted to fly through England because it was cheaper. We took the ferry from Liverpool, England to Dublin, Ireland. It seemed like a wonderful plan until I was detained by security. After about an hour of waiting for them to take some action to allow me entrance into the country, I asked how much longer it would take because my father and aunt were waiting. They were stunned to understand that they’d cleared customs while I hadn’t. After they decided to clear me into England, I asked why there was such a delay. She kindly showed me their book, or watch-list, for undesirables. It turns out there were many IRA terrorists with my same name.

We crossed the Irish sea on the Leinster. We had berths, and the night crossing was over quite rough seas. I learned two lessons on the crossing. First, I learned why the hand rails are provided on the ship when I needed to use the toilet that evening. The ship was rocking 30 degrees to port and starboard. Second, I learned you shouldn’t eat greasy food before crossing a rough body of water. I ate duck at the port restaurant before we sailed. When I got back to my berth from the toilet, I had to focus to avoid becoming ill.

My aunt couldn’t resist the on-board slot machines. I didn’t follow how many British pounds she lost but I’d guess five or so. While I took the upper berth, my dad took this photo while I was lying on his lower berth.

After we had breakfast in Dublin, Ireland at the local McDonald’s, it was the only place open at 7 a.m. in Dublin. We set out for southeastern Ireland to do some site seeing after we ate. We stopped at Jamestown because the village name struck my dad and toured Kilkenny Castle. The photo to the right side is of me standing in the entrace to Kilkenny Castle.

 

It was a long day, starting in Dublin at 7 a.m., but we drove all the way to Blarney Castle in Blarney, Ireland (outside of Cork City). We stayed at the hotel in Blarney, Ireland the first night in Ireland.

We stopped to let my aunt buy a gold Claddagh ring. We used the shop owned by a cousin of one of my friends from San Francisco, California. She graciously consented to take a photo (found above). Unfortunately, I no longer remember her name after 26 years.

We drove the ring of Kerry in the morning and then stayed near the Shannon Airport. My father was quite worn out, and my aunt and I left him to rest while we took a walk, ate some scones at tea time, and then visited until 6 p.m. when we collected him for dinner. We left the next morning and drove straight through to Belmullet. The preceding photo is the view looking west from our family’s farm. The next photo is of my father and aunt in front of Gerald and Mary McLoughlin’s farm house that they built in the 1960s.

After taking that earlier photo, we took one of the group gathered in the house. I don’t recall where Gerald or Joseph were but they were working on the farm. Those in the photo from left to right: front row are Mary McAndrew (Gerald’s mother-in-law), Kevin (the youngest of Gerald’s and Mary’s 19 children), my father, Mary McLoughlin (Gerald’s wife), and my aunt Margaret; and back row are me and my cousin Pauline.

I took a closeup of Mary and her mother, which is noted below. The McAndrew family lives about two miles east on the same dirt road that takes you to the McLoughlin farm. There are a lot of dirt roads in western Ireland, and not a lot of cars or traffic. Western Ireland is still rural. We’re related to both families and the Howard family that own the land on the east side of the paved road that runs north from Belmullet to Glenamoy and beyond.

A little later that day, we got Gerald and Kevin around the hearth. It’s a nice home where they raised their 19 children. They had a happy family and were very gracious hosting us. Next to the home is the same cottage where my great grandfather was born in 1853.

The next two photos are of that cottage, which has been used as a barn since 1963. My understanding is that only the Germans and rich Europeans seem to invest in thatch roofs because they’re not very pragmatic and have an extremely high maintenance cost. The first photo shows my father at the entrance and the second my father, aunt Margaret, and me.

Later that day, we took photos of my dad and his sister milking a cow. They’re shown below, and yes there was some teasing to get them to do it. Joseph McLoughlin (the next to youngest of Gerald’s and Mary’s children) helped them milk the cow. They chose the gentlest of the milk cows for the photos.

This is a great picture of my father relaxing by the fire in Gerald’s chair. He and Gerald had a strong connection. I didn’t realize how much until my father cried at their parting. I didn’t see my father cry at my mother’s funeral and he was lost without her when she preceded him in death. It was part of his generations mystique about suppressing outward emotions.

When we went to visit Gerald’s married daughter Una, I got this snap of Gerald in the pub at Portacloy, Ireland. He raised 10 boys and 9 girls with his wife, worked hard, and asked little of life. They had a wonderful family. Life is hard in western Ireland, and his face certainly shows the wear of living and honest hard work.

Lastly, the parish priest let us see the records for my first great grandfather and his two brothers. The oldest, Patrick had stayed in Ireland. Patrick is Gerald’s grandfather. These two photos show the baptismal font where they were baptized in the Church of the Sacred Heart, Belmullet, Ireland.

 

My cousin Maureen McAndrews is the only reason we got to see the records. They ran a shoe store in Belmullet and her son was in local politics. She was the parish priest’s secretary. He had denied me access earlier in the year but when Maureen asked, he consented. He asked my father if he were a Mormon, and he said no. Thankfully, he didn’t ask me or we may not have seen the records. The first picture is with my cousin Maureen on the left and aunt Margaret on the right. The second picture is with Maureen on the left and me on the right.

He also consented to sign a release form that he’d received from the LDS Family History Library. They’d filmed the records a second time in Ireland during the 1970s but according to the priest the LDS Church agreed not to disclose that they had filmed them. I’ve never been able to confirm this when I’ve inquired about it at the LDS Family History Library in Salt Lake City, Utah.

The priest hadn’t signed it while he’d had the release form for several years. He decided to sign it when I explained two things about the LDS Church Family History Library. One was that the LDS Church archives are used by people other then church members. The other was that fewer people would be coming to request access to the physical record, if he allowed them to become available through microfilm at the LDS Family History Library. Anyway, those films became available a couple years later.

A hot birthday party

August 21st, 2010

My sister Michele’s third birthday is one to remember. My parents bought a cake and had it decorated with an elaborate carousel because she loved riding the merry-go round at what would become known as the John F. Kennedy Park in Hayward, California on Hesperian Boulevard.

We invited my father’s immediate family to the party, which meant his parents, sister, brother-in-law, and niece. We met at Spenger’s Fish Grotto in Berkeley, California. My father knew the original owner of the restaurant (Mr. Spenger), and had reserved the banquet room for Michele’s birthday party.

Before the party, my father insisted on taking a couple photographs to record the event. He took the first one, which is shown to the left. My sister Lisa is almost a year and being held by my grandfather, Michael Joseph McLaughlin. From left to right, the other adults are Margaret Mary McLaughlin (my grandmother), Margaret Therese Fedele (my father’s sister), James Fedele (my father’s brother-in-law), and my mom Elsa (Elsie) Florence Carlson. Again from left to right, the other kids in the front are Michael Jimmy (that’s me), Maryanne Fedele (my first cousin), and the party girl, Michele Ann McLaughlin. She’s holding her new doll that she received for her birthday from my parents before going out to eat.

My mother took the other picture, which lets us see that special cake with it’s merry-go round peaking out above the top of the box. Unfortunately, she didn’t know how to adjust for the change in light, so when she backed up to capture the cake she over exposed the picture (just a bit). The only difference in the photo is that my dad’s in it and my mother isn’t. He’s the one in the middle of the adults in the back row with his arm around his mother.

I did get in trouble for tasting the cake’s frosting but that’s actually great in hindsight because I’m the only one who tasted any of it. When my father lit the fourth candle (the one to grow on) inside the banquet room, the carousel caught fire. It was a whoosh and then flames and smoke. By the time they doused the fire the cake was gone. While it struck me as a great time, it certainly tied Mr. Spenger and my father’s stomachs in knots.

Mr. Spenger saved the day after dinner because he had coconut covered cakes and ice cream for the kids. It brought a smile back to Michele’s face because the destruction of the cake was a proper tragedy for her party. The other presents also helped.

Carlsson Wedding Tintype

August 21st, 2010

CarlssonWedding1871Sven August Carlsson married Bothilda Andersd&#246ttor in 1870 in Sweden. Sven was 26 years old, and Bothilda was 21 years old. Thankfully, somebody made this copy of the tintype taken on their wedding day. Otherwise we wouldn’t know what they looked like as young newlyweds.

They lived in Tutaryd, Kronoberg, Sweden. Tutaryd is a parish about 20 kilometers from the city of V&#228xj&#246, Sweden. They raised a family of eight children. There were five boys and three girls in the family. The two oldest boys immigrated to America. During and after their immigration, they used the surnames assigned to them by the Swedish army. The Swedish army assigned names back then because they had too many Carlssons, Svenssons, et cetera. Through this process Carl Johan became Carl Frank, and Anders Leander became Anders Blomberg.

Carl Johan arrived in the United States on 16 Nov 1908 (taken from his naturalization document). Anders came sometime between 1908 and 1910. They were followed to the United States by their younger brother, Olaf Fritjof, who often went by Fritz. Fritz was also a violinist. He came under his own name because he didn’t serve in the Swedish military. Olaf Fritjof is living as a lodger in the 12th Ward of Boston, Massachusetts in the 1910 Federal Census.

CarlssonFamily1898

The rest of the family stayed in Sweden. How either of these pictures made it to America is a great question but I don’t know. The hand colored black and white print was an expensive item back then. It appears to have been taken in 1898 based on the ages of the children. The youngest, Hedvig was born in 1894 and she appears to be four years old in the photo. From left to right, you see Carl Johan, Johannes Hjalmar, Sven August (the father), Sanna Mathilda, Anders Leanders, Hedvig Marie, Olaf Fritjof (my grandfather), Bothilda (the mom), Sven Alfred, and Alma Martina.

Newlyweds in 1920 beyond

August 21st, 2010

MichaelMaggie1920This is a wonderful photo of my grandparents shortly after they were married in September 1920. It unknown where they took the photo but it appears likely that it was taken in Cleveland, Ohio. My grandfather Michael Joseph McLaughlin fell in love with my grandmother Margaret Mary Atckison in 1915 at a country fair. Nobody is sure which county fair but it is thought that it was most likely the Stearns County, Minnesota fair. He was 19 and she was 16 when they met. My Atckison great grandparents insisted that they wait until Margaret was 21 before they marry.

It worked out fine in the end, as my grandfather was busy working as a cowboy in Wyoming, and then serving in the US Army during WWI. He first served against Pancho Villa in the Signal Corps, and then supporting the 10th Cavalry in College Station, Texas. Support units at that time where composed of white soldiers, while the 9th and 10th Cavalries were composed of black soldiers. The black soldiers were known as Buffalo Soldiers.MichaelMaggie1943

My grandparents were married in Saint Stephen’s Catholic Church in Saint Cloud, Minnesota on 1 Sep 1920. They lived in Cleveland, Ohio and New York, New York. Specifically, they lived in Manhattan for a short time and then settled in the borough of Queens. My father told me they lived on the last street of Little Ireland in Manhattan. Apparently, it abutted Little Italy in Manhattan.

They returned to Cleveland, Ohio when my great grandfather Anthony John McLaughlin died in 1931. There they lived for a time in my great grandfather’s old home on Waverly Court. That’s near the intersection of Detroit and West 58th Street. My grandfather volunteered to serve in the Seabees because he was too old for any other service during WWII, and the Seabees needed his electrician skills in the Pacific.

MichaelMaggie1963

The picture above shows the adoration and pride my grandmother felt for her husband. That love and adoration never died, as we can see in the last photograph they took as a couple. At least the last photo that I know about. It was taken on Easter Sunday 1963 in Saint Joseph’s Cemetery in Fremont, California right after Mass. My grandfather would become more disabled from a disease he contracted in the Pacific during WWII. He would die from it in July 1965. My grandmother survived him by almost 8 years and missed him very much.

The picture brings me found memories because we would get to light candles at Saint Joseph’s statue with my grandmother after Mass. Then, we would stroll as a family in the graveyard. My mother would wait in the car while we attended Mass. Likewise, my father waited early every Sunday when we went to the Episcopalian Church with my mother. In the graveyard, the religious denominations were set aside and the family was together. Sometimes my Aunt Margaret (my dad’s sister), Uncle Jim, and cousin Maryanne would come with us to Mass at Saint Joseph’s after they’d attended Mass at Saint Felicitous in San Leandro, California.

We’d light those candels in the old wooden church before they restored Mission San Jose. They moved the wooden church because they finally got the money to restore the old mission. An effort championed by Lila Bringhurst, one of the descendant from early Mormon colonists to California (via the ship Brooklyn). The wooden church had been built on the site of the original mission. The original mission was destroyed by the 1868 earthquake along the Hayward fault.

Dear Blanda, greetings

August 21st, 2010

My other grandmother (my mother’s mother) was Esther Mattisson. She was born on December 17th 1894 in Ivetofta, Kristianstad, Sweden. She was the seventh child of Mathis Pehrsson and Elsa Christiana Carlsdőtter. She was the sixth girl of eight girls, and she loved and missed her mother once she immigrated to the United States. Ester named her first child (my mother Elsa) after her mother.

BromollaHouse

Esther was born in and her family grew up in a home in Bromőlla. The house was demolished in 1940 but my second cousin Mats Rasmusson provided a copy of a keepsake rendering of the home in 1977.

MattissonPostcardIvetofta’s easy to miss on a map because it’s the parish for Bromőlla. Bromőlla itself is easy to miss because it’s only a rail stop between Kristianstad and Sőlvesborg with a small limestone quarry and ceramics industry. It’s only important because the postcard was postmarked there.

Six of the sisters got together and took a photograph in 1912 that they sent to their sister Blanda as a postcard. The postcard is dated 31 August 1912 and it is addressed to Blanda’s at 36 Sason Road, Boston, Massachusetts. She had previously immigrated to the United States with the help of her father’s brother. His name was Nils Pehrsson and he immigrated to teach violin at Harvard University (unsubstantiated family lore). What ever he did for a living, he became the source of funds to pay for the immigration of Blanda, Matilda, and Esther.

They also dutifully paid him back all the money he advanced. Four of the sisters and their one brother remained in Sweden. Alma, Olga, Hulda, and Siri stayed with their brother Herman in Sweden, while Matilda and Esther immigrated to the United States. The oldest sister Betty died in Sweden in 1908 at the age of 26. The six sisters took this picture postcard before Matilda and Esther left Sweden. Blanda and Matilda never returned to Sweden.

MattissonSisters1912

From left to right, they are Siri, Matilda, Hulda, Esther, Alma, and Olga. Siri married Albert Wilhilm Jonsson and they had six children. They had four boys and two girls, and they raised them in Trolle-Ljungby.

Matilda married Eric Nilson in the United States, and they had six children (five boys and one girl) who were raised in Massachusetts. However, Matilda and Eric retired to Bakersfield, California. Olga married Martin Karlsson in Kristianstad, and they had one child, a daughter named Maj.

My grandmother, Esther, worked as a cook in a Boston restaurant in 1916. She met and conceived my mother with Arthur Smith (a Swede whose parents emigrated from Sweden). Unfortunately, Arthur Smith was married and unable to get a divorce until 1920. In the meantime, Esther met and lived with Olaf Fritjof Carlsson to avoid being placed in an unwed mother’s home. Esther lists Olaf as my mother’s father but DNA tells another story. Esther and Olaf married in the fall of 1918 and Esther conceived her second daughter Evelyn. Elsa was my mother, at least that’s what she thought but the birth certificate that she could never find in her lifetime says her birth name is Eliza Florence Carlson, and she was born in Fairhaven, Massachusetts. When Olaf went to a Tuberculosis sanitarium my mother said cousin Arthur supported the family until my mother married and left the home. Arthur came to visit us one in California, and while my mother introduced him as cousin Arthur he took quite an interest in my sisters and me. I’m not sure if my mother ever knew Arthur was her father but if she did know she never told us.

She rarely used Elsa and went by Elsie. Esther only returned once to Sweden, and that was right before WWII. She encountered tremendous problems reentering the United States because she had not acquired U.S. citizenship during her 25 year residence. Eventually, the entry issues were resolved and she returned to the United States. She never became a US Citizen.

Blanda (or Blenda as we knew her) immigrated first. She saw her son become a turret gunner and crew chief in a B-17 during WWII. His name was John Pearson. His plane was shot down in 1943 and he was interred for the remainder of the war in Germany. He often said that the Germans denied him medical care for a shrapnel wound because they viewed him as a Swede and therefore a traitor to the Aryan race. At least, that’s the opinion he formed as a POW. He regretted ever letting them know he spoke Swedish or German. He was deaf in his left ear as a result of the wounds received the day the plane was shot down.