Happy Juneteenth: Calling My Ancestors' Names

Do you (or did you) know your great-grandparents? We each have 8 biological great-grandparents; they are our parents' grandparents, and they existed whether we knew them or not. I never had the pleasure of meeting any of mine, but thanks to 31 years of genealogical research, I at least know and can call all of their names - and I can tell you a little something about each of them and their families of origin. Unfortunately, I don't have photos of any of my formerly enslaved ancestors, so I must only imagine what they looked like. However, my research has led me to many documents that allow me to tell parts of my ancestors' stories. This Cohabitation Record for my great-grandparents, Calvin and Precilla Yarborough, was one of the first I found that confirmed their status as persons who had been formerly enslaved.

On this special day - this JUNETEENTH* holiday - I pause to call the names of my known formerly enslaved direct ancestors who were alive to see freedom, in 1865. Three of those were my parents' grandparents, but they were deceased before my parents were born, so they never met them, either. ALL of these Ancestors were of an age to have known their status as enslaved and to have been already providing unpaid labor to their enslavers at the time of Emancipation. Many, as you'll see below, had lived long lives as chattel, and were blessed to live out their final years as free people. Again, these are only my direct ancestors, but of course they had siblings, aunts, uncles, and cousins who shared their status as enslaved, and who may have been able to join the jubilee shout - "We'z FREE now!"

Great-Grandparents:

Calvin Yarborough - 25 years enslaved

Precilla (Shaw) Yarborough - 23 years enslaved

Pinky Tredwell- King Howell - 9 years enslaved

Great-Great-Grandparents:

Louis Neal - 50 years enslaved

Mary Neal - 55 years enslaved

Mack Tredwell - 52 years enslaved

Amy Littlejohn - 50 years enslaved

Lewis Davis -16 years enslaved

Dolly Ann Crutchfield -10 years enslaved

Asa (Asy) Brown - 22 years enslaved

Louvenia Ross Brown -10 years enslaved

Third-Great-Grandparents:

Elsy Littlejohn - 69 years enslaved

Everett Ross - 35 years enslaved

Minervia Dobbins - 35 years enslaved

Fourth-Great-Grandparents:

Essex Ross - 69 years enslaved

Chaney Ross Thornton - 70 years enslaved

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 And, these are the known names of my direct ancestors, who were enslaved, but either didn't live to see "freedom" or whose death date is currently unknown. They are all my third-great-grandparents.

Peter Littlejohn (1782-1855) - husband of Elsy

Lewis - father of Lewis Davis

Lavinia - mother of Lewis Davis

It has become my life's work to research my ancestry and to share what I've learned with my family and with the larger community. I pay homage, every day, to my ancestors - those who were "free" before 1865 and those who were enslaved. Let no one tell you that you can't find your ancestors before 1865 - or before 1870, when formerly enslaved persons appear, by name, on Federal Census records. That's a LIE; and, every name you see above is proof of it! I knew nothing about my ancestry, before I started asking questions and doing the work, in 1993. If you're reading this, and you want to explore your own family history, let this post be incentive to you. There are more resources available to you than ever before, and you can get started with this research right from the comfort of your own home. YOU CAN DO IT! By Juneteenth 2025, you can be calling your own ancestors' names!

Thanks for reading - and happy Juneteenth!                                                                                        Renate

* "Juneteenth," officially Juneteenth National Independence Day, is a federal holiday in the United States. It is celebrated annually on June 19 to commemorate the ending of slavery in the United States. The holiday's name is a portmanteau of the words "June" and "nineteenth," as it was on June 19, 1865, when Major General Gordon Grandger ordered the final enforcement of the Emancipation Proclamation, in Galveston, TX, following the end of the Civil War. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Juneteenth)

52 Ancestors - Week 2 - Origins

 Last week (Week 2), I revised a post from 2011 for the theme "Origins." I realized, after that fact, that doing it the way I did would not result in that post showing up in order with my other responses to the 52 Ancestors prompts. Therefore, I'm inserting this post so that weeks will all be included and in order - and I'll know to do other reposts a different way!

So, to read my Week 2 post, of 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks, please click here. If you're one of the 500+ people who've already read it, as of this posting, I appreciate you!

Thanks!

Renate

MY Black History! Mary Anne Hill Hoggard Yarborough

The month of February is recognized in the United States as "Black History Month." For me, every month is Black History Month, but, in alignment with the February theme, I've decided to share a little bit about my own family - my BLACK family - to be added to history's annals. When possible, I'll be using obituaries and/or other already-published media, because my time isn't what it needs to be for me to write all there is to say about each person, at this time.

I'll begin this venture by telling you about my mother, Mary Anne Hill Hoggard Yarborough. 

Age 10 - 1944

 

My mom was born in 1934 in Norfolk, Virginia, to parents Mary Davis and Daniel Webster Hill. She grew up in a still-established neighborhood, called Lambert's Point. Her father abandoned the family when she was four years old - never to return. She didn't know or remember him, at all, and she lived with the shadow of his abandonment, all her life. It wasn't until just a few years before she passed that I discovered, while researching my grandfather, that he'd actually died in 1940 - less than two years after he left his family. My mother had lived her entire life feeling that her father had simply never come back - never cared enough to contact them - when actually, he'd met his demise when she was just 6 years old. Although I have a photo that I believe might be of my grandfather, my mother had never seen a picture and had no memory of what her father even looked like, so she was unable to verify that it was or wasn't him.

 As a child, Mary Anne learned to play piano and became very accomplished, playing for several churches in the area, when she was just a young teen. My mom was very smart. She was an honor student at Booker T. Washington High School, from which she graduated in 1951, already a young mother and wife to her first husband, Edgar "Red" Hoggard.

Booker T. Washington 1951

My mom went on to further her education, first at the branch of Virginia State College which became Norfolk State, and then at Hampton Institute (now University), where she was a member of the band and the choir, and from which she matriculated with a degree in Education (with a minor in Music), in 1956. A young divorcee, she remained in Hampton to begin her teaching career, at her beloved Aberdeen Elementary School, but, during that time, met the military man (my dad) who would sweep her off her feet and get her to leave what she had started, to join him in Bremerhaven, Germany, as his new bride. My mother became Mrs. Arthur P. Yarborough.

Mom in Germany with sons, Henry and Edgar. 

My mom secured employment in a DoD school in Germany, while adjusting to being a new wife, as well as mother to her son, Edgar, and stepson (though we never used that term), Henry, who had been adopted by my father and his first wife. Her life as the wife of an Army officer, mother, teacher, and homemaker left never a dull moment!

Before leaving Germany, my parents welcomed a son - their first child together - Arthur, Jr. Soon thereafter, the family of five would return to the States, and settle in Cleveland, Ohio, where their next blessing would arrive. A GIRL! Just what they'd wanted the first time around - the German name was waiting for the baby's arrival. "Renate" was here!

                          

                              Mom with baby Arthur in Germany

                        

                            Mom with baby Renate in Ohio

Mom with Arthur and me on church steps

 In 1964, Mary Anne and her family returned to her beloved Hampton, Virginia - her "home by the sea," and set up residence in the historic Aberdeen section of the city - first in "East Aberdeen," on Jordan Drive, and then to the home they'd waited for, in the newly built Granger Court East. She was able to return to teaching at Aberdeen Elementary, the school where her teaching career had started. In 1971, after many years as a 6th grade teacher, Mary Anne, secured her Master's of Education degree, and was granted a position as Assistant Principal. She spent a few years in that role, before finally getting the principalship of Tucker Capps Elementary School - a magnet school program with a fundamental theme that she was able to design, implement, and secure as a model for schools locally and statewide. As they say, though, "all good things..." (you know the rest) - and as is custom in our local school systems, Mary Anne was eventually transferred to what would be her last school, Burbank Elementary. Though she was saddened to leave Tucker Capps - having led there for 10+ years - she took her brand of excellence to the new building, and retired from there in 1990, having left a positive impact. Throughout her profession, Mary Anne demonstrated (and demanded) excellence; and she was rewarded for it with many professional recognitions and accolades, often appearing in the local newspaper for her accomplishments.

Daily Press (Newport News, Virginia  - 23 Jul 1987

Daily Press (Newport News, Virginia) · 25 Feb 1993, Thu · Page 59

Mary Anne and Arthur built a good life together for their family of six, although the marriage was tumultuous, at times. Though their relationship became a struggle, they made a decision to stay together until the last child graduated from high school. So, in June 1979, just a few days after my graduation, the marriage was over. 

The Yarborough Family

Mary Anne was very involved in her community. She continued to keep her hand in education, after her retirement, by supervising student teachers at Christopher Newport University. She was deeply involved in her church - Queen Street Baptist - on the Board of Christian Education, as a Sunday School and Vacation Bible School Teacher, as head of the Educational Outreach Program, and as the much-loved Director and Pianist for the Millie Patrick Children's Choir. She also worked with the Boy Scouts and the Pastoral Search Committee. She was a member of the Delta Kappa Gamma International Sorority for Women Educators and she always maintained a supportive and loving relationship with the church of her youth, Jerusalem Baptist, in Norfolk.

This photo shows Mary Anne wearing her Delta Kappa Gamma pin.She was always known as a "sharp dresser," a trait her daughter, Renate, didn't inherit. (She was always perfectly "put together" - hair, makeup, and clothing were always on point! .

Mary Anne Yarborough fought a battle for the last years of her life with a movement disorder that was never fully diagnosed. It was first said to be Parkinson's Disease, but didn't follow the patterns, so that was ruled out, as was Lou Gehrig's and many other suggested disorders. Though she lost the ability to care for herself, and her voice weakened to where it was difficult to hear or understand her, Mary Anne remained lucid and clear of mind until just before her death. Early on Christmas morning, of 2013, after spending Christmas Eve with her daughter and granddaughters, God invited my mother to her heavenly home, and she joined Him as she was sleeping. Though her last years were not what she'd dreamed of or hoped for, I thank God for the years He gave my mother. I know that she is rejoicing in heaven with her mother, brother, and especially with her son, my brother, Arthur. May she rest in heavenly peace.

To read my mother's obituary, click here.

                                  Mary Anne (on right) with her brother, Howell (on left) and two unknown children.                                     They are standing in front of their house, in Norfolk.

Mary Anne with her mother (center) and grandmother (Minervia Davis)

Mary Anne in NYC in the 50s

Mary Anne with granddaughters, Natasha and Natalia

Mary Anne enjoying her favorite thing: a "Coke-a-Cola"

                 Siblings, Mary Anne, Howell, and Jane with

                     their mother, Mary Davis Hill Thomas

I love you, MOM! :)

Sad, Sad Saturday - Death of Walter Davis

This won't be a long post. Right now, I don't even have enough words to express the jolt of sadness I'm feeling this morning after reading this very descriptive article about the death of my maternal great-grandfather, Walter Davis; but I must honor him right this minute, by sharing (what I know of) his story, here on my blog.

Walter Davis was born July 16, 1875, in Brunswick County, Virginia to parents Lewis Davis and Dolly Ann Crutchfield.
He spent his childhood in Warren County, NC (which is the only place I'd known the family to live until recently discovering his tie to Virginia). In 1895, 20-year-old Walter married Minerva Brown, and by 1900, the couple (still residing in Littleton, Warren County) had given birth to two children, Samuel (1896) and my grandmother, Mary (1897). By 1910 the family was living in Norfolk, Virginia, where Lewis was a Foreman (Coal Trimmer)* at the coal piers, located in the same Lambert's Point section of the city where the family home stands to this day. Sadly, little Samuel is no longer with the family and is presumed to have passed away.

Just about a year ago, I obtained this photo of my great-grandfather, Walter, who I'd never seen a confirmed photo of, before that point.

Walter Davis

I'd been told by my mother and her siblings that their grandfather had died in a tragic accident at the coal piers where he worked, but I never knew the of the gory details that are included in the following article. At the time of this tragedy, my mother would have only been 15 months old. Her brother, Howell, was 3. Their sister, Jane, wasn't yet born. My great-grandparents, my grandparents, and my mother and uncle all shared a home in Lambert's Point, so this loss had to have hit the entire family very hard; although it gives me comfort to know that my great-grandmother, Minerva, was not alone during this horrible time. However, what makes this even more dismal is that, 12 years earlier, my grandmother, Mary, had lost her first husband in just as tragic an accident. at the same location that had now claimed the life of her father. I wrote about that calamity in my post, "Sentimental Sunday - My Grandmother's Loss".

Just looking at Walter Davis in this photo, I sense that he was a hard-working, very determined, and perhaps serious-minded man. I can't help but wonder if there is something more to this story. Didn't he hear the bell ringing? Did he not get off the tracks on purpose for some reason? Could someone have pushed him onto the tracks?

My heart is truly aching this morning after reading this article. (Click to enlarge.)

                     

Update:
Not too long after composing this post, I was able to obtain my great-grandfather's death certificate, on a visit to the Library of Virginia. This document further confirms the family tradition, as well as the newspaper accounts of Walter Davis' very sad, extremely tragic death.

Death Certificate of Walter Davis, stating that he died of "Shock following multiple injuries to whole body" with the contributory source being "Steam Rail Road Accident".

Walter Davis, I say your name. 
May you forever rest in peace.

Your great-granddaughter,

Renate

Thanks for reading.

* A coal trimmer or trimmer is a position within the engineering department of a coal-fired ship which involves all coal handling tasks starting with the loading of coal into the ship and ending with the delivery of the coal to the stoker. 


Sources: 
Coal trimmer definition  (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Coal_trimmer)

HOLD FINAL RITES FOR ACCIDENT VICTIM. (1935, Jul 06). New Journal and Guide (1916-2003) Retrieved from https://search.proquest.com/docview/567336517?accountid=44788

Library of Virginia, Accession Number 36390: Walter Davis, Certificate Number 14008, June 28, 1935.

Permalink to this post: http://justthinking130.blogspot.com/2017/05/sad-sad-saturday-death-of-walter-davis.html

Sentimental Sunday - Remembering My Beloved Ancestors

Today is just one of those days.  As a matter of fact, it's been one of those weeks.  Well, to be truthful, it's just been one of those MONTHS!  Many of you know the kind I mean - those time periods where you just can't seem to stop thinking about those loved ones who've gone on to join the Ancestors. Everywhere you look, there are reminders.  Your mind seems filled with memories - some that make you smile (or even burst out into spontaneous laughter), and some that brings tears to your eyes or cause you to start weeping at even the most inopportune times. Yep, that's what the month of April has been for me.

To honor those whose spirits have instigated the roller coaster of emotions I've been experiencing, recently, I dedicate this post to their memory.  So here they are, the folks I haven't been able to get off of my mind:

My brother, Arthur YARBOROUGH, Jr. (August 23, 1960 - April 6, 1984)

Arthur and me - Probably Easter 1968

My daddy, Arthur P. Yarborough, Sr. (June 24, 1924 - October 4, 1997)

Me with my Daddy - Probably on his (and my daughter, Natasha's) birthday 1983



My grandmother, Anna GREEN Yarborough (January 18, 1891 - February 17, 1977)

My grandma and me - Probably 1968 or 1969



My cousin, "Uncle" George Royster Greene, Sr. (October 5, 1930 - March 17, 2013)

My "Uncle George" in his judge's robe, probably in the 1980's. 
He and my father were first cousins, but considered each other brothers. He was very special to me.
Stay tuned for a post about him, soon.



My grandmother, Mary DAVIS Thomas (December 26, 1897 - June 12, 1986)

My Grandma Thomas (Looks like she'd just come from church!)

These are the folks who have been on my mind, along with a few more, who weren't family members.  I've experienced a lot of loss in my life, and most of it was at a young age.  Not only have I been thinking of these loved ones, but I've also been reflecting (even more heavily than usual) on those of my Ancestors whom I never knew, and in many cases, never even knew about until I began my research.  I hope to get back to writing, so that I can share my thoughts (and revelations), and bring more information about those who've gone on to the LIGHT. :)

Thanks for reading.

A very sentimental,

Renate


The permanent link to this post is: http://justthinking130.blogspot.com/2013/04/sentimental-sunday-remembering-my.html

Tombstone Tuesday - Perseverance PAYS!

Subtitle: Success in the Cemetery!

I'm posting today to share my excitement about a victory (of sorts) that I've had.  I thought that this was going to be more of a follow-up post, however, upon searching my blog, I've discovered that I never did write about the search for my maternal grandmother's grave marker.

My mother's mother, Mary Thomas, died in 1986.  She was buried in Calvary Cemetery, an historical burial ground in Norfolk, Virginia.  Because I spent the first 14 years of my genealogical journey completely focused on researching my paternal ancestors, it wasn't until just a few years ago, when I turned my attention to my mother's folks, that I decided to head over to Norfolk to visit my grandmother's grave.  Once I did, I was disappointed to discover that the spot where she rested was covered only by green grass, and wasn't marked in any way.

I was 24 years old when my grandmother died, and of course, I attended her funeral.  However, not being a cemetery or genealogy buff at the time, I can't say that I paid any attention to how the grave was marked.  But, what I did know (or at least what I thought) was that my mother and her two siblings would certainly have put some kind of a marker on their mother's grave.  I inquired at the cemetery office, but long story, short, they had no records related to the markers or headstones.  Their records only pertained to the actual burials.

At the advice of the person in the cemetery office, I contacted Hale Funeral Home, to see if they had any records pertaining to my grandmother's burial.  (I called right from the grounds of the cemetery, hoping to just drive right over!)  Unfortunately (and quite sadly), the person I spoke with told me a story of transferred management after family deaths, and records which had actually been THROWN AWAY.  If I recall correctly, all of the pre-1997 records of this funeral home, which has been serving African-Americans in the Tidewater area for 100 years, were destroyed during changes in management.  Needless to say, I was disappointed, and appalled.  Not only were the records of my own ancestors gone - I actually have several who were serviced by this funeral home - but so were those of hundreds of others. 

After this troubling revelation, it seemed that there would be no way for me to prove that there'd once been a marker at my grandmother's gravesite.  My mother told me that my uncle had handled the burial transactions, and when I asked him about it, he said he no longer had any of the paperwork, but reiterated that he "thought" there was "some kind of stone, or something" at the grave.  With nothing else to go on, I just kind of put this to the side, but vowed to one day get to the bottom of it. (No pun intended.) :)

Anyway, life and genealogy went on, and then one day, quite by accident, I ran across this picture, while going through some things at my mother's house:



My nephew, Robert, and my daughter, Natasha, beside the freshly-covered grave of their great-grandmother,
Mary Thomas.

So, there ya go!  You'd better believe I was doing the genealogy happy-dance, for here was all the proof I needed (and more)!  As soon as I saw this picture, I knew for sure that this was my grandmother's burial location, because it was the exact spot on which I'd stood with the cemetery caretaker, but all that was there was grass.  But here were my nephew, age 6, and my daughter, age 4 obviously not too long after my grandmother had been buried.

With this picture in hand, as well as the actual receipt for the 6-vault burial plot that my great-grandmother had purchased in 1935,  I took the 35-minute drive over to Norfolk last Monday, ready for battle.  I called ahead to let them know I was coming, and "Bret", the current manager of the cemetery, after hearing my plight, said he'd pull his records and be ready for me.  Once there, he and another employee in the office were very kind and accommodating towards me, so no fight was necessary. :)  Bret verified the location of my family plot (yes, it's a family plot, but I'll write about that in another post), and printed out a new map for me using their fancy-smancy new program.  Then, off we went, armed with my proof-providing picture to do a "test-dig". 

I couldn't believe how excited I was about this, but I was almost beside myself.  When we got to the plot, I used the picture to help Bret locate the exact spot in which to drive his shovel, and after just a couple of hits in that spot, we heard it - the unmistakable clang of metal against stone.

Bret marks the spot for the dig.

           

And so we began...

As Bret chiseled and dug, I continued to "coach" him, directionally.  After just a few minutes, I had all of the confirmation I needed.

Do you see what I see?




At this point, tears began to well up in my eyes, as I realized that we had, indeed, found my grandmother.  Of course she was there all along, but there was just something about the grave being unmarked that was very unsettling to me.  Now, I knew for sure that we were in the right spot, and presumably my grandma, along with her husband, her parents, and her uncle were all right there where they'd been laid to rest. 

Bret continued his work, commenting to me, "You were exactly right about it.", as he dug, more gently now, around the step.  In reverence to my ancestors, I remained silent, as he uncovered the unmistakable match to my photograph.

And there it is, the THOMAS surname, clear as day.

Just a few minutes after the step was completely revealed, as Bret was explaining to me that it would be raised and reset before the end of the week, a truck drove by with the very men who would be doing it. He summons them to stop, and they came over and heard the whole story.  Everyone involved (including Bret) seemed surprised and baffled that the marker had been allowed to sink like that, since the cemetery is well, and consistently cared for, but what happened, happened.  I'm just glad that they were so amicable about it, and willing to do the work (at no cost to my family, of course) to right the situation.  I didn't go back yet, but I'm guessing the work has been done.  I plan to go over this weekend to see.

There was so much more to this post, but, unfortunately, I hit a wrong button last night was I was creating it, and lost all but the very first part.  Time only permits me to redo this much for now, but thank you for reading.  Needless to say, my heart is glad. :)

Thanks for reading.

Renate



#52Ancestors: Week 2 - "Origins" - WHERE I'M FROM

This post is being updated on January 8, 2023, for inclusion in Week 2 of Amy Johnson Crow's "52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks" writing initiative. The original post was written and shared in 2011. I remember being very proud of it, then; and, I feel the same way now. Only the slightest of changes have been made.

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July 24, 2011

Thanks again to Randy Seaver of Genea-Musings for providing us with a fun, engaging activity.  This week's assignment, was to use write a poem entitled, "Where I'm From", using the template. To visit Randy's site and read the entire challenge, please visit http://www.geneamusings.com/2011/07/saturday-night-genealogy-fun-write-poem.html

I enjoyed working on this poem, but found it challenging in some ways, as I had to grope for ideas for a few of the items. However, most came easily, and I found myself smiling, and even laughing as I reflected on memories of days gone by.  I encourage everyone to give this a try, and to share it with your family members, too. :) 
Here's my poem:

Where I'm From

By Renate Yarborough Sanders

I am from bell-bottom pants, stacks and afros. I’m from Hostess Twinkies and Now & Laters.

I am from the historic black neighborhood of Aberdeen (Built by Blacks for Blacks), paved streets, big yards, filled with children playing while mammas watched from every window, and where you’d better get home before those street-lights come on.  I'm from playing on the "Big Hills", waiting for the Ice-Cream Man or "The Truck", and from where switches came off trees faster than you could get the last disrespectful word out of your mouth.

I am from azalea bushes and crepe myrtle trees, and from my grandma’s prized roses.

I am from holding hands during mealtime prayers, and persevering above the odds; From Anna Beatrice GREEN and Mary DAVIS and YARBOROUGHS, NEALS, DUNSTONS, HILLS, ROSSES, BRYANTS and BROWNS. And, like it or not, I’m also from HAWKINS, JONES, MACONS, DAVENPORTS and more.

I am from the head-strong and faithful. I’m from, “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say nothing at all.” And, “Pretty is, as pretty does.”

I am from Baptists, and Presbyterians, and from the foot-stomping, dancing-in-the-aisle United Holiness Church. I’m from folks who love the Lord with all our hearts, souls, and all that is within us!

I'm from Cleveland, Ohio, by way of Franklin, Warren, Tyrrell and Washington Counties, in NC; Norfolk, VA; and somewhere in Africa where people spoke the Bantu languages and watched their families torn apart, chained, and loaded onto ships like somebody’s cargo. I’m from Nigeria, where my ancestors walked proudly, heads up – backs straight, until that fateful day when they were forced to bend by men whose descendants would one day be my kinfolk.

I’m from blue-crabs steamed in a touch of vinegar and seasoned (heavy) with Old-Bay; I’m from collard greens and macaroni-and-cheese, with hot, buttered corn bread on the side.

From Anna Green, a runaway transplant who shared her life with Nathaniel Hawkins, and bore six kids by him; from Arthur P. Yarborough, who after a stint as one of our nation's first black Marines, reenlisted and worked his way up to the rank of Major in the United States Army, only to be cheated out of his next promotion by the stronghold of racism.

I am from the house my grandfather built in Louisburg, the property my grandmother and mother fought to keep in Norfolk, from the last house on the left on the corner lot in Granger Court. I’m from the metal safebox which always sat on the top shelf of my parents’ closet, but now rests in mine. I’m from photo albums filled with pictures of the known and unknown, from manila folders labeled with surnames and CD-ROMs that hold pictures and documents that provide proof of my history - most of which has migrated, in digitized form, onto my laptop and my external hard drive, since the time this piece was first written.

I’m from all of this, and so much more. I’m from America.

Thanks for reading!

Renate

P.S. If you'd like to get in on the 52 Ancestors fun, just click here for more info!

Permalink to this post: https://justthinking130.blogspot.com/2011/07/saturday-night-genealogy-fun-where-im.html

Sentimental Sunday - My Grandmother's Loss (Part 2 of 3)

This is the second in a series of what will be three posts dedicated to the life and memory of my grandmother, Mary Davis Walker Hill Thomas. I began this series of posts after receiving copies of several articles from the Norfolk, VA Journal and Guide, which confirmed, and in some cases, revealed stories about my ancestors.  To read the initial post, which explains how I came into possession of these articles, please click here. Part 1 

In writing this series, I hope to make amends with my grandmother's spirit.  I was 24 years old when she left us for her reward, and up to that point in my life, I didn't have the knowledge, nor the maturity, to empathize with what her life must have been like, after experiencing the loss of three husbands, and then, ultimately, living out her last 36 years as a widow.  Being a person who always reaches out and tries to understand and connect with others, I feel just awful for not knowing her better, seeing her more clearly, and/or loving her more dearly.  In my grown-up, intellectual mind, I know that I really have no fault, especially since I was never told of her hardships; but the sentimental, emotionally-connected part of me is heavy-laden with a feeling of guilt, every time I think about how I distanced myself from this grandmother, in favor of my paternal one. Mary Thomas' outer-shell was deservedly hardened.  I imagine she must have lived each day that I knew her constantly protecting and shielding her heart from further pain.

Part 2: Daniel Hill

Sometime after the (literally) crushing death of my grandmother's first husband, James Allen Walker, in 1923, she met Daniel Webster Hill.  I have no idea how they met, or how their relationship developed, but the article below - another of the nine sent to me by my genealogical benefactor, shows where it went.

  It seems that Mary had found love again.  She married my grandfather, Daniel W. Hill on July 11, 1926.  According to this article, the couple moved to Philadelphia  (another fact I never knew), but by the 1930 Census, they are back in Norfolk, living in the family home with my great-grandparents, Walter and Minerva Davis.  (Note:  By all accounts, and from what the records show, my grandmother, Mary, was the homeowner.  She purchased the home after the death of her first husband.  I presume she must have used whatever insurance money she received to buy the home.)

I know nothing about my maternal grandparent's marriage except that it happened, and that they had two children together; my uncle, Howell Webster, born in 1931 and my mother, Maryanne, in 1934.  However, this third article from the Journal & Guide at least hints at the fact that my grandmother may have been living a happy life.  She was already active in the church she was a member of, and funeralized in 53 years later. Her son was winning baby contests, and she would, just two months after this, conceive my mother with her husband, Daniel.



At some point, the happy days ended for Daniel and Mary. For whatever the reason(s), my grandfather  abandoned his wife and children when my mother was just four years old.  The family never saw or heard from him again, and I, in my 14 years of research, have been unable to track him down to find out where he went, or what happened to him.  In a recent interview with my uncle who only vaguely remembers having a father, he recalled Daniel Hill as being a "mean man".  My mother doesn't remember her father at all, and neither of them have a clue what he even looked like. 
So, for my grandmother, this was blow #2.  Another marriage dissipated, but for a completely different reason.  This time, she was left with two children to raise.  She'd just lost her father (in 1936), but thankfully, had her mother there to help her.  Though she was saddened by this loss, she was not broken.  Help (and another chance at love) was on the way.  

To read the third and final segment of this series, click here.

Sentimental Sunday - My Grandmother's Loss (Part 1)

A few weeks ago, I was the recipient of a random act of genealogical kindness. A fellow researcher provided me with several articles from the Norfolk, Virginia "Journal and Guide", which featured, or pertained to some of my maternal ancestors. If you missed the post about this, and would like to read it, you can click here.

It has taken me some time to be ready to post about the article which affected me most, but now the time has come. If you follow this blog, you probably already know, or at least sense, that I was extremely close to my paternal grandmother, Anna Green Yarborough. However, my relationship with my maternal grandmother, Mary Davis Thomas, was more distant, even though she lived in closer proximity to me. I never spent much time thinking about this - it's just the way it was. I loved her, and I knew she loved me, but we just didn't have a very intimate personal connection. Grandma Thomas didn't say much (not around me, anyway), and unfortunately, though I saw her often, and she even lived with us in her later years, my memories of her as a quiet, and rather stoic person, make it difficult for me to truly recollect much about our interactions. This said, I'll now admit that when I received the email from Hollis Gentry, with the links to to the nine articles about my family, the very first one I read, which saddened and stunned me, caused me to reflect long and hard about life of the woman whom I'd only known as my, "Grandma Thomas", whose young adult life was impacted and shaped by a series unfortunate events through which she (as seems to be the case with all of the women in my ancestry) persevered, overcame, and maintained her Christian faith.

James Allen Walker - Part I

My grandmother, Mary Davis, with her first husband, Allen Walker.

I did not grow up knowing that my grandmother had been married before or after she married my grandfather, but when I found out as an adult that she had, and I asked what had happened to the first husband, I was only told that he'd "died on the railroad". So, when I opened this first article from Hollis, and really came to terms with what my grandmother, then a young bride must've gone through, I began experience a feeling of mourning, as if I'd been there with her when she got this terrible news, and experienced the first, of what would eventually be three spousal losses.

Yes, my maternal grandmother's first marriage ended when her husband, only 27 years old, was crushed between two train cars.  They'd not had any children, so I'm assuming that the life they'd been building together came to an abrupt and unexpected end when Allen left for work that morning. 

Thanks for reading.

Renate

To read Part 2 of this series, click here.

News on the Maternal Side - A Random Act of Genealogical Kindness

Recently, I've posted tributes to my two grandmothers, Anna Yarborough, and Mary Thomas.  In, "The Stuff I'm Made Of  and Grandma's Hands (for the CoAAG), I noted some of the hardships, sacrifices, and losses that each of my grandmothers had to overcome in order to successfully raise their families and maintain the homes which they were each left to manage alone.  I recognized, as I wrote, and then read over these posts, that the inner strength, tenacity, and perseverance which I possess are not traits that I developed on my own, but instead are deeply ingrained survival skills which have been passed on to me, not only from these two strong and resilient women, but, also from their mothers and grandmothers before them.

I return to this subject now, because yesterday, I was the recipient of a magnificent, and very surprising act of kindness on behalf of another researcher.  Hollis Gentry, a professional genealogist and DAR researcher, had been a part of a discussion which I was involved in on Afrigeneas a week or so ago, where the conversation was centered around the free preview that ProQuest was having for some of it's holdings - specifically a few African-American Newspapers.  As excited as I was, the one newspaper that I was interested in searching, the Norfolk, VA Journal and Guide, was not included in the free preview.  However, this researcher, who apparently had taken note of my disappointment, craftily visited my blog, pieced together what she could of my Norfolk ancestors' names and surprised me yesterday with an email which had attached to it NINE newspaper articles related to my maternal ancestors!  As it turned out, Hollis (whom I've never met and had never chatted with before) had made several attempts over a few days to get the articles to me, to no avail.  But her persistence paid off, and like magic - she gave me the most direct and personalized view that I've had, to date, of my mother's family.  I was, and still am, overwhelmed with gratitude towards Hollis for the the time and effort she has put towards finding and sharing these documents with me.  Not only that, but in subsequent emails, she has complimented me on my writing and my blog, and as a person with roots in Norfolk herself, has given me vital encouragement as to how to move forward in researching my maternal ancestors.  So, Hollis Gentry, I do hope you're reading this because I would like to publicly thank you for all you've done!

Stay tuned for upcoming posts in which I will share the articles that Hollis found for me.

Blessings, all!
Renate

CoAAG - Grandma's Hands: Grandmothers and Their Influence On The Family

The second installation of the Carnival of African-American Genealogy, "Grandma's Hands", is, in the words of its host, Sandra Taliaferro, "all about Grandmas".  Since I recently posted tributes to both of my grandmothers on a Sentimental Sunday, I'm going to simply repeat that post here, with just a few revisions (and a couple of new pictures)!

When I first began my research 13 years ago, I did so in an attempt to discover who I am.  I didn't know anything at all about my ancestors, beyond my maternal and paternal grandmothers, both of whom I personally knew.  I didn't grow up hearing family stories.  As a matter of fact, I really didn't have any sense of there being a "history" of my family.  My maternal grandmother, Mary (Davis) Thomas, lived just 30 minutes away from us, in Norfolk, VA, but it was my paternal grandmother in Louisburg, NC, Anna (Green) Yarborough, with whom I was closest.  Both of these women were constants in my life, and my grandma Thomas even ended up living with us during  my last couple of years of high school.  Therefore, despite the fact that I knew little to nothing of my grandmothers' past, or of the ancestors who preceded them, each of these ladies were threads the fabric of my life.

These women who raised my mother and father each had a significant impact on my development into the person I am today.  And not only that, but when I look in the mirror, I see them both in my reflection - the body of one, and the face of the other.  As I've learned more about their lives, and the hardships they each faced, I beam with pride as I recognize what it had to take for each of them to have managed and sustained their households in the loss of their husbands and in the face of repeated financial blows and/or significant family stressors that would have brought many others down.  But, both of my grandmothers stood tall in the face of adversity and beat the odds of their time.  As single parents, they raised successful children and both managed to keep their homes, which are still in our family today.  Through hard work and faith in God, Mary Thomas and Anna Yarborough lived well, and left a legacy of self-sufficiency, perserverance, and good will towards others.  Many times I've been complimented on the way I've raised my children and managed to rise above the many hard times I've been faced with in my adult life, and I'm often asked the question, "How do you do it?"  Well, now I know, and I have the perfect answer:  "It's the 'stuff' I'm made of!"

Anna Beatrice Green Yarborough

Anna Green Yarborough

Anna Beatrice Green was born on January 18, 1891 to parents John Wesley and Susan Dunstan Green.  She was the daughter of Nathaniel Hawkins and Anna B. Green (who she was named for). Anna was born in Rolesville (Wake County), NC. The family soon moved a few miles north to Louisburg, in Franklin County, but returned to Wake County when Anna was in her teens.  She had two sisters, Mabel and Blonnie, and three brothers, "Little Johnny", Joseph, and William; however only Mabel, William, and Anna lived to adulthood.  I know very little about Anna's early life, but in 1919, she married my grandfather, Calvin R. Yarborough, Jr., a widower with three children.  Anna moved to into the Franklin County home that was built by her new husband and his brother, and became step-mother to Vida, Priscilla, and Frederick Yarborough.  Over the next five years, she gave birth to her own three children, Susie, Calvin III, and Arthur (my father).  Unfortunately, Calvin began to suffer with the symptoms of tuberculosis, the cause of his first wife's death.  He fell ill, and passed away in 1929, leaving Anna to raise six children alone.  Anna, who was, at the time, involved in the creation of a new church in Louisburg (Mt. Hebron United Holy Church) relied on her faith and worked hard keep the taxes paid on the house that her husband had built, and to keep her children fed, clothed, and educated.  She worked as a laundress, as well as for private families as a housekeeper and nanny.  She also took in sewing, all the while maintaining a leadership role in the church she'd helped to create. She had a sweet disposition and was known throughout the little town of Louisburg as, "Miss Anna".  Anna walked several miles each day to and from her jobs on the "white side" of town.  She never did learn to drive.
As Anna grew older, her three biological children helped to support her so that she no longer had to work.  (The older three died of various causes in their 30's and 40's.)  Her greatest joy was in spending time with her four grandchildren, all the children of her youngest son, Arthur.  She was an excellent cook, and was known for the wonderful cakes she baked.  She took pride in her house and her yard, and gave special care and attention to her "award-winning" rose bushes in her front yard.  She loved to sit out on her in her porch in her brown, wooden rocking chair and wave at all of the passers by, many of whom would stop for a chat.  Some of my fondest memories are of warm summer evenings spent sitting on that porch with my grandma, and yes, I remember her hands - soft and wrinkled, I loved so much to trace the bluish-green veins that showed so clearly through her pale, almost-white skin.  I remember my grandma's hands.

In February, 1977, when I was 15 years old, my grandmother, Anna Yarborough, died of complications from colon cancer.  She is buried in the family plot on "the hill", which is the Louisburg City Cemetery (formerly, "Louisburg, for the Colored").

This is me with my Grandma Yarborough, probably around 1968 or 1969.

 In addition to the Sentimental Sunday post, mentioned above, you can read more about my Grandma Yarborough here and here. 

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Mary Davis Walker Hill Thomas

Mary Davis Thomas

My maternal grandmother, Mary Davis was born December 26, 1897 in Littleton (Halifax County), NC to parents Walter and Minerva Brown Davis.  According to the 1900 Census, Mary had a brother, one year older, named Samuel, and in 1910, the Census states that her mother had actually born three children, but only one (Mary) was living.  It is likely that Mary never knew or remembered her two siblings, because she never mentioned them to my mother, or to either of her other two children.  Mary's maternal ancestors were her grandparents, Asa and Luvenia Ross Brown, and great-grandparents, Everett and Minerva Ross.  Her paternal grandparents were Lewis and Dollie Davis.  Mary's large extended family all lived in the Littleton and Roanoke Rapids areas of North Carolina.

Around the turn of the 20th Century, several members of the Davis family migrated to Norfolk, Virginia, seemingly to work as longshoremen.  Walter, Minerva and Mary were part of this migration.  By 1910, they, as well as several of their family members are living in the Lambert's Point section of Norfolk.  In 1915, a young Mary was wed to her first love, Allen Walker, at the St. Marks AZUA Church in Norfolk.  Allen worked as a brakeman on the Virginia Railroad.  He and Mary were quite in love and lived happily, sharing a home with her parents until his untimely death, which occured sometime early in their marriage. 

Mary, though heartbroken, had to go on with her life.  At some point, she began doing hair in the porch room of the home that she'd shared with Allen, and she petitioned the owner for it's purchase.  In 1924, the house in Lambert's Point was hers, and it is still in our family today.  Sometime later, Mary met Daniel Webster Hill, and they were married in 1929 in Philadelphia, PA, and in 1930, Daniel, had joined Mary and her parents in the home.  Mary began her family with Daniel; first giving birth to a son, Howell, and then, in 1934, to a daughter (my mother), Mary Anne.  In 1936, Mary's father, Walter, died, but she still had her mother, Minerva there to help her with the house and the chldren. Unfortunately, sometime around 1938, Daniel Hill abandoned his family for reasons unknown, and was never heard from again.

Once again, Mary was left on her own, but this time, with two children. Mary was able to carry on with her very successful hair-care business. True love struck again, and she married Charlie Thomas, a railroad worker with whom she fell deeply in love.  Mary gave birth to her youngest daughter, Jane, in 1940.  Charlie was a loving and caring provider to his wife, daughter, and step-children.  It seemed that the family had finally found joy, but tragedy struck again, as Charlie was killed in a railroad accident, leaving Mary a widow, once again. 

Understandably, Mary lived the rest of her life without a spouse.  She continued to do hair, and also worked as a secretary and receptionist at the local YWCA.  Her mother, Minerva, who was her partner in raising the children, died in 1960, after they were all grown and gone.  Mary carried on, living alone in the home that she'd purchased in 1924.  At some point, she joined, and became a faithful and comitted member of Jerusalem Baptist Church in Norfolk. In the mid-70's, when Mary's health began to fail, she moved in with her daughter Mary's family in Hampton, VA, and later into a nursing home in Chesapeake, close to where her son lived.  Mary Davis Walker Hill Thomas, who'd lived to see three generations of her descendants, died in June, 1986, at the age of 89.  She is buried in Calvary Cemetery in Norfolk, VA in a plot with several family members, including her parents, and her beloved last husband, Charlie.

 I've wanted to use this picture on my blog for so long; I think now is the perfect time!  I find this photo so intriguing, because it show my grandmother in a light that I would have never imagined.  Here Mary Thomas poses on an unknown beach - date also unknown.

Both of my grandmothers, Anna Yarborough and Mary Thomas, had a "hand" in shaping me, as well as the rest of their descendants.  They've each left a legacy of strength, determination, hard work, and perseverance; character traits which have been passed down and have led generations of our family to stand tall in the face of loss and struggle, and to each become successful citizens in our own right.  May they rest in peace.

Renate