A Few Leaves From the Family Tree

Unless a discussion on pedigree occurs at Madison Square Garden and at least one of the subjects under discussion is wagging a tail, then there is nothing more boring than burying others under one's own pedigree. So! That said, allow me bore you to tears.

New genealogical finds:

1. U.S. Census, 1930, in Manhattan New York, for my Mother's family. It was so cool seeing familiar names pop up; Hello Aunt Grace & Uncle Calvin!

Charles Carter (45 yrs) Grandpa
Adele Carter (40 yrs) Grandma
Vanessa Carter (15 yrs) <=== I'm guessing this is Aunt Verona Norma Carter (7 yrs) MA!
Calvin Carter (5 yrs) Uncle
Sigroy Carter (3 yrs) Uncle
Grace Carter ( ) Aunt Grace
Brantford Phillips (22) my Grandfather's brother-in-law

There were still two babies still on the way, Uncle Walter and the youngest, my Aunt Arna who was often called 'peanut'.

2. U.S. Census 1920, for Cristobal, the Panama Canal Zone

Being able to find my father's family in Panama no less, was a HUMONGOUS surprise, .

William Miller (50 yrs) Grampa! Gives an estimate for his birth at 1870
Caroline Miller (45 yrs) Grandma!
William J Miller (11 yrs) DADA! The J is for Junior
Herbert L Miller (9 yrs) Uncle Herbert
Edgar I Miller (8 yrs) Uncle Edgar (Philip's twin)
Phillip O Miller (8 yrs) Uncle Philip (Edgar's twin 'natch)
Fred Graub Miller (6 yrs) Uncle Fredrick
Alexandra L Miller (5 yrs) Aunt Louise Cool name like Alexandra & they called her Louise? Dang. Had no idea she was named Alexandra. She was the youngest and only girl.
Miller Brycoe (age 67) Great Grandma Amelia and if I'm right this is the appearance of her long lost last name! Or is it still lost? Since the name is attached to Miller, maybe it is a relative from my Grandfather's mysterious family? GAK! Someone still alive has got to remember who Brycoe Miller is.

3. Last but not least it's a triple header for my matenal Grandfather, Charles Carter. I found:

• some work discharge papers
• His U.S. World War II Draft Registration Cards, 1942
• records of him arriving in New York City on the ship, General George W Goethals from Haiti. And, this all takes place in the time of the 1920 census, in October of that year.

Of course as is common with genealogy research, you 'solve' one mystery and a b'jillion more pop up to take its place. This week's big mysteries:

1. The 1910 census put my paternal Granddad's birthplace as Missouri. WHAT? He was born in Jamaica. I am certain of it because an old pass port of my father's had scribbled notes in the back that give a date and Kansas as the location for Grandfather's naturalization. It even lists the judge who presided over the event. If he'd been born in Missouri he wouldn't have needed naturalization (unless he'd previously given up U.S. Citizenship - I doubt that.

2. Is Brycoe the correct spelling? If true, it's easier to research a unique name than a common name. Is Brycoe Granny's last name? I'm hopin my grandfather's military papers, which I have already sent for, will explain.

3. Continuing mystery. Is Edward Archer Cordle really my maternal Great Grandfather? If so, is he also the father of my Grandmother's brother Cuthbert? I think may well be. But - if that's so, then are John C. Cordle and Mary Elizabeth Nunes truly Grandpa Cordle's parents? If he is my grandfather, the records on line revealed his parents are in fact, John and Mary. If that is true, then I have roots in Virginia. GAK! Was not expecting that. I wonder if someone has photos of them? That's the first generation that could have had their photos taken. So Charles Carter worked on ships sometimes as did my father? Apparently so!

Here is my family tree, another pair of possible maternal Great Great Grands included.

Ooops, I jumped the gun again. The birth dates for the presumed parents of Edward Archer Cordle have them being born prior to their son's birth. Oops. I'll have to prune them from the family tree.

My New Project

Prompted by realizing this month is my father’s 100th birthday aniversary, I took it as a kick in the arse toward at-long-last, working on my family genealogy. I’ve been meaning to do so for ages.

For starters I went through the notes I have from my maternal side, whose information was previously gathered by my Aunt Grace. I also dug into my paternal side. Loads of material was available from a pamphlet printed on the occasion of a celebratory family party held in New York for my father on his 91st birthday (he celebrated one additional birthday after that). Please note the buttton to add 'husband' to my little corner - how optimistic. Juan and Dolores are in there, but they don't show.

Click here for expanded view
The upper, paternal side of my tree are the Millers & Johnsons.

The lower maternal side of my family, are the Carters & Cordles.

And the past few days here is a tidbit I’ve added to to what was previously known.

Parma (the ship) Passenger Manifest page

I know this is the genuine article because my maternal Grandmother Adele was raised by her aunt, who is the someone-or-the-other Lofety whose name appears on the manifest. Cool, eh? My Aunt Grace had tentatively concluded that Grandma came into the U.S. through Canada. I vaguely recall Grandma may have entered the country on two different occasions. I’ll be skimming Canadian records to get to the bottom of that. But this document shows Grandma entered the country in July of 1916 when she was 23 years of age and she made the trip companioned with another young lady of the name Elelia Edwards. I have no idea if they were related or not; something else to dig up!

I also discovered there is a book, Encyclopedia of Latin American and Caribbean Literature, 1900-2003 by Daniel Balderston, Mike Gonzalez which mentions another maternal ancestor, Edward Cordle. He wrote a serial newspaper column based on a fictitious pair of characters Lizzie & Joe; their stories were written in the patois vernacular of Barbados, which in those days was a daring thing. I don’t want to kick in the $90 necessary to purchase the Encyclopedia volume. But I understand – or perhaps misinterpret, there is another book too, entitled Overheard which was published, or so I believe, in 1903. I’d pay $90 for that book – if I can find a copy.

Now for the real challenge! On my paternal side, pretty much everything is a mystery. I am going to have to stop being a freakn’ arse and call my father's nieces - in particular Sandra and Anita - if I ever hope to puzzle out at least the stuff that is still remembered first &/or second hand. For example, here is a photo of my maternal Grandma, Caroline Josephine Johnson Miller.

I have no idea either which lady is grandma, or the names of anyone other than Grandma Caroline. I only know they are here, all British citizens living in Jamaica.

Family story: My father told a story how on one of his first ship voyages out of Panama, he stopped in Jamaica to visit his mother's sister (half sister?) hi Aunt, whom he'd heard about from his mother Caroline. When he got there, his Auntie horribly snubbed him [the bitch]. She wouldn't let him in the front door, making walk round to the back door to let him in. After that uneasy visit my father still stopped by another time and by then the entire Jamaican branch of the clan had gone back to England - no forwarding address. Someday I hope to drop in on my unsuspecting British cousins and get snubbed first hand for myself [the bastards!].

For better or worse, the whole Brit thing pops up in my family on both sides, no surprise as both sides are firmly rooted in British colonies of Jamaica, Barbados and to a lesser degree in Trinidad. My maternal grandmother Adele never gave up her British citizenship. My father used to razz her about it all the time. 'You love that damned John Bull, don't you? What's that flag and crown ever done for you, eh?' Indeed!

Daddy probably had a point. Still, whether it did anything for us or not, the Brit influence might just explain my fascination with the Beatles and Harry Potter and wine gums . Really – you have no idea.

%$#@!!!!

Rum is a very clever kitty. I mean, he's wild as a hare, but really intelligent. Several years ago, I had him locked in the house so his injured paw could rest. There was a sliding metal pane that covered the cat flap - guaranteed to lock your pet in or out. Rum, when released from the back room, sat in front the pet flap, staring at it. Then quickly, he put a paw under the metal sheet, expertly flicked it up, as if he'd been doing such a thing for decades, then he raced through the opening before the metal sheet could guillotine his tail. It took that kitty-bugger 20 seconds to figure out how escape through a cat flap that was guaranteed to thwart your pet.

On to new kitty challenges.

The kitty flap is long gone. Now there is a pair of French doors. Rum has to 'ask' to get in. He grabs the screen with one paw and whacks it against the glass door. I had company one day who asked, 'who's that knocking to get in your back door?'

Well hell, it's just the damned cat telling me to get a move on, he wants IN.

Over time, Rum's claws have torn up the screen door. So, the horse being already stolen so-to-speak, I decided to protect the last few strands of screening (yes, I am much slower to catch on than Rum is). I used binder clips to hold a sheet of thick plastic over the door.

"Ah ha!" I grumbled. "Let's see you deal with THAT Mr. Rum-kitty." Now the little hairball wouldn't pound on the door because he could not get at the screen behind the plastic sheet.

Tonight I came home; plastic screen lying flat on the back porch, binder pins flung far and wide. So - what am I to think? That some complete stranger came round the back, tore down the plastic and threw the binder pins around? Or did Rum have a kitty 'Ah ha' moment, stuff his paws under the plastic and pull hard, making binder ricochet off the porch steps.

I'm hoping it was an inept burglar.

Try and lock ME out... %^*$%&.