A Move Not Made

I found an unused pack of business cards for Dad. Anaconda, Cincinnati, Ohio. Dad never transferred to the Cincinnati office.

He worked for Anaconda in St. Louis, transferred to Detroit, and again to Los Angeles. The family lived on Stanley Hills Drive in Hollywood in 1939 and during the Second World War. Not an easy time, but they liked the Southern California winters more than those in the Midwest.

Dad left Anaconda when they wanted to transfer him to Cincinnati. He took a job in San Diego with Pacific Wholesale Electric Company in 1945. I was born in San Diego rather than Ohio.

And that made all the difference? Who knows?

Anna Sarah Townsend Claycomb

The woman in the hammock is my great-grandmother, Anna Sarah Townsend Claycomb (1864-1892), wife of Frank Erwin Claycomb.  She is at a TB sanitarium in southern California, possibly Pasadena.  The year is about 1892.  I can’t prove it, but the family story is that the toddler is her youngest child, George Francis Claycomb, born 1889.  George becomes the father of the ‘Idaho Claycombs.’

Her residence was in Sycamore, illinois, but she made this trip to improve her health.  It wasn’t successful.

The photo is interesting because of the formal dress on people (family?) and the Asian care takers.  I’m glad they are included in the photograph.

Julia Bressler and Clara Ellis

Julia Bressler is my great-grandmother.  I’m guessing that Clara Ellis was a friend, perhaps from church.  I never heard of Clara, but I love this photo.  I like the similarity of their pose, their hands, and the fabric print of their dresses.  They are wearing lace-up shoes with low heels.  From the look of Clara’s ankles, her feet hurt.  Julia was born in 1859; she’s 86 in this photo.  February 1945.  Probably Wayne, Nebraska.

Uncle John’s Letter 1920

A letter written to my father (Frank Claycomb) when he was 5 years old. From his Uncle John (Bressler).

June 11, 1920

Dear Frank:

Has your pony come yet? Tell your Daddy I have been by Mrs. Snyder’s several times, but have never been in. What do you do all the time?

I will send this letter to you by airplane to Omaha and then from there to Wayne on the train. With love, Uncle John.

Ida Duncan Yelvington

The mystery of Ida Duncan Yelvington was solved just over 20 years ago.  Ida married into my Duncan family – married Francis Duncan, adopted son of Thomas Cation Duncan.  Francis died shortly after their marriage.  So Ida is a bit on the fringe for me, but they had moved to San Diego where my family lived.  So I was curious about what happened to her.  Actually it’s a fascinating story, just not close to me (I wrote more about it here.)  So I asked Mom about Ida, any idea what happened to her.  No, Mom didn’t remember anything.  Finally I found a second marriage for Ida – to Calvin Yelvington.  I shouted to Mom ‘I found her!’  To which Mom replied, ‘Oh, I knew Ida Yelvington.’  Sigh.  But that’s how our memories work.  I understand that more now that I’m older.  I think I just remembered her maiden name – Utley.

Here’s a card Ida sent to my folks, probably in 1939 when my sister was born.  I love seeing the signature – the whole signature.

Hairy Heirloom

It’s more properly called a friendship album.  I got a chance to see one with a distant family connection.  It was made by Emma Osborn with help from her sister Erista, beginning in 1860.  Emma married my great-grandfather’s brother, Thomas C. Duncan in 1866.  Besides poems and obituaries, the book contained locks of hair – from children, friends, and deceased folks.

The woman who generously shared it with me – and provided these photos – found it at an estate sale.  Her research brought her to my blog.  I’m grateful for her diligence.  If the book had a more direct line for me, I would have considered buying it.  It later sold for several hundred dollars.

T. C. Duncan served in the Wisconsin cavalry in the Civil War.

An entry for Francis Osborn Duncan, the adopted son of Emma and T. C.

Lots of genealogical information here.

Hair from a deceased woman braided.

A child’s lock of hair. I think the black ribbon indicates the person has died.

One of Emma’s poems.

A lot of hand work has gone into these tributes.

More intricate designs.

A funny story from our visit is here.

2027 Stanley Hills Drive Hollywood California

This is where my parents lived when they first came to California in 1939.  They rented 2027 Stanley Hills Drive in the Hollywood hills.  The house was built in 1938.  They may have been the first tenants.

2027 is at the center of the photo – part of a duplex.

It’s fun to compare it with a Google Earth shot taken in December 2017.