February 01, 2019

In My Mother's Footsteps

I've spent some time in earlier posts describing my mother's stories about growing up in Jamaica. When she was in her late 80s or early 90s, she took a biography writing class from Windward Community College. The essays she wrote as assignments in that class inspired me to do the same for my early years. Now that I'm retired, I've decided to act on the inspiration.

I enrolled in a semester-long seminar entitled, "Memories and Memoir: Writing Personal Histories." Our first meeting today included a few first-timers, and several repeat students. Students and instructor are all retirees, and the seminar is one of many offered by the Renaissance Society on the California State University - Sacramento (CSUS or Sac State) campus.

Our first assignment is to determine the outcome we want from the class (vignettes, stories, book, ...) and the audience. Then we are to write stories of up to 800 words to read aloud in class. The instructor will offer guidance for developing characters, creating story lines with tension and resolution, and for determining whether we can make the story stronger by including fiction enhancements.

Most are there to - of course - write about themselves or their parents for their children. Everyone has an interesting story, and I'm looking forward to the journey.

July 15, 2010

The following letter is among my mother's correspondence. Una is her mother. I believe "Uncle David" to be Simon Soutar's brother. Simon was Una's father, and the subject of the "tribute" mentioned in the letter. The "Family Magazine" referred to at the end of the letter used to make the rounds of the far-flung families, each family adding its current news and deleting its old news before sending it on to the next family. Mother referred to it many times, calling it a "round robin", but I believe it ceased circulation in the years after this letter was written.

5 Wood Street
Dennistown
Glasgow
24th April 1923

Dear Una,

I received your letter also that for Aunt Sara & forwarded the same to her. I have seen her since & she hopes to be able to send you a reply. She has been failing during the last 12 months her deafness has increased & now her memory is often at fault. Uncle Alick is not too well either & he worries about her. Still they say that the change back to Scotland has in some ways benefitted them. Their new address is
8 Corse Terrace
West Kilbride
Ayreshire

Agnes lost the sight in her right eye a few weeks ago. The Dr traced it to a piece of broken tooth left in the gum. It has been extracted & the sight is coming slowly back.

Sarel [?] (age 13) is in the Scouts. Martin (10) is in the "Cubs", but is having to give them up for a time as under Dr's orders he has to go to bed at 6 P.M. in order to rest himself thoroughly. His heart is weak but the Dr says he will grow out of it. Queenie (9) is in the "Brownies" & is taking part in a "Display" which takes place tomorrow night. Her proper name is Sara Margaret but we call her "Queenie".

Aunt sent me the "Jamaica Papers" I was much impressed by the tributes they paid to your fathers character his enterprise & public spirit.

I have just been reading Uncle David's Journal of his voyage to the West Indies. Uncle Simon & he left Southhampton, on Jan. 18th 1858, on board the good ship R.M.S. Parana 2048 Tons. Its destination was St. Thomas. From there they took a packet, the "Dee" which proceeded via Puerto Rico & Haiti. They landed at Port Royal on Sunday 7th Feby & put up at the Date Tree Hotel which had been recommended as the "first in the island." The journal closes in time for dispatch by first mail.

The "Family Magazine" (which had gone astray) has just come to hand this afternoon.

With kind regards from all to all,

I am
yours sincerely
Oscar S. Bailey

December 18, 2009

Advent calendar of Christmas memories

I stopped adding "memories" posts, because they all led to the same thing. It was a good idea, but I ran out of memories.

We did make a few memories of our own, though. For every Christmas since we moved to California in 1991, we've gone to a tree farm to cut our own tree. The freshness is incomparable to the sorry trees we used to get in Hawaii from the Pacific Northwest.

We used to go to Union Mine Pines in Amador County, where Roz and Bob Deutsch have a small tree farm. However, it is a long way to drive, and Highway 49 is hilly and twisty, and the tree tied to the roof of our small car never seemed quite secure. (That's a part of the tradition, too - checking the tree every few miles to be sure it's still tied down tight.)

Roz used to work for Sacramento Public Library, and she grew up in Hawaii, so we had some memories to share. She, too, was in Hawaii on the day Pearl Harbor was bombed. They have a cute cabin on the farm, all decorated in red and green and with a nice wood stove in the living room. Bob collects antique farm equipment, and has lots of stories about them and how they were used. They have a Santa cut-out, and offer hot chocolate, candy canes, and Polaroid photos of the families with their freshly-cut trees. (I should find ours and scan them - good way to see the kids growing up each year!)

Lately, we've been getting our trees from Davis Ranch in Sacramento County. This year, as always, we got the perfect tree. The weather, however, was not perfect last Sunday. We managed to arrive at the ranch between showers, and tromped through the rows of mud to make our choice. Husband lay down on a tarp to saw it off, and then we netted it, loaded up the trunk, and brought it home. The kids are long past the days when they were eager to go find a tree, but Daughter did a beautiful job decorating our tree this year. Not sure what we'll do next year, because we may be empty-nesters by then!

December 09, 2009

December 7, 2009, 68th Anniversary of the Pearl Harbor Bombing

My cousin"Pickles" Picadura shared this story yesterday by e-mail in a comment on a snow video I had just uploaded to YouTube:

Just think U & Marty did dis on...Pearl Harbor Memorial Day.... I remember da day real well. My dad took 8 mm movies and da US Army came to our house & took da movie film from my dad, plus da telescope he used to film da event. We neva got back anything they took. It seems telescopes was contraband items during da Marshall Law days. At least we got to see da movie he took before da army came to get it. They found out we had it from da film company who developed it. I remember seeing da Japanese pilot when they flew over our house in Kaimuki, he was so low, that my dad thought he was going to crash into da house & told everyone to get out of da house & Rosemarie cried. He flew over many times in a circle like he was looking for something. Kaimuki in those days was only residences & only Kaimuki Town was 3 blocks long on Waialae Ave. Today Kaimuki Town runs from 5th Ave to 13th Ave. on Waialae & Harding Aves. A big change ... unbelieveable buildup from 1950 to present. Catch U later.

December 08, 2009

Advent Calendar of Christmas Memories

December 7 - Holiday Parties
Did your family throw a holiday party each year? Do you remember attending any holiday parties?


Our family believed that holidays were for family, and since we had a large family, it turned into a party. The only exception was Christmas eve, when we invited neighbors with children over after dinner to sing Christmas carols and have cookies and punch - a way to keep excited children busy and distract them from the pile of tantalizing gifts under the tree.

December 8 - Christmas Cookies
Did your family or ancestors make Christmas Cookies? How did you help? Did you have a favorite cookie?

Gramma Schulmeister baked sugar cookies every year, dozens and dozens. She would make and roll the dough and let us go to town with the cookie cutters and sugar sprinkles. We felt like we were doing our part to bring Christmas when we stacked cookies in waxed-paper-lined cookie tins to bring home with us. We didn't frost them, but colored them with red, green and yellow sugar sprinkles, and the multicolored little round ones, too. For many years, she bought silver balls and we'd add them to the Christmas trees, wreathes, and stars.

Over time, other cookies became favorites: date bars, macadamia snowballs, and peanut butter blossoms made with Hershey's Kisses. And ginger snaps, too, flattened with the bottom of a drinking glass dipped in sugar.

When I was in college, the Honolulu Advertiser published a recipe for an authentic German gingerbread house. I still have the original clipping and cardboard templates for cutting the pieces out of the baked cookies. Now my daughter has shown an interest, and she and her friend made one last Christmas from the same recipe!

December 06, 2009

Advent Calendar of Christmas Memories

December 5 - Outdoor Decorations
Did people in your neighborhood decorate with lights? Did some people really go “all out” when decorating? Any stories involving your ancestors and decorations?

No one in my family or my neighbohood ever did anything more than outline windows with colored lights. At my own house, the only lights were on the tree, except the 2 years we ran a long indoor/outdoor string of mini lights around the back garden fence.

December 6 - Santa Claus
Did you ever send a letter to Santa? Did you ever visit Santa and “make a list?” Do you still believe in Santa Claus?

Letters to Santa weren't a huge thing with us. I believe, when I was first learning to write - so, Grades K-3 - I did write to Santa and entrust the letters to my parents to mail. My own kids also wrote letters to Santa, but not every year, and for only a few years. In the early '80s, I discovered JRR Tolkien's "Father Christmas Letters", which I borrowed every year from the library and read to the kids if they would sit still for it. The (mis)adventures of the North Polar Bear and the Red Elves gav me giggles every year!

We had no fireplace, no chimney, so we left one window open for Santa to come in. I was 8 when I learned there was no Santa. I woke up during the night and, since I could see down the hall from my bed, I saw my parents carring boxes and presents from their bedroom to the living room. That was my lightbulb moment, but I didn't spoil it for my younger brothers until the next year.

My kids believed in Santa till they were about the same age, because of the ashy boot-prints on the hearth, and they left him cookies and milk faithfully. One year, Daughter's pre-school sent home Reindeer Food in a baggie (rolled oats mixed with glitter) with instructions to strew it on the lawn to attract Santa's reindeer. (It worked.)

December 04, 2009

Advent Calendar of Christmas Memories

December 4 - Christmas Cards
Did your family send cards? Did your family display the ones they received? Do you still send Christmas cards? Do you have any cards from your ancestors?

When I was a small girl, the only way mail came to Hawaii was by boat. We would receive letters weeks after being written and mailed, and we read each one eagerly, before composing a reply that would take equally long to get delivered. Christmas cards had to be sent about 4 to 6 weeks before the date you wanted them to arrive, especially those that were going to other countries, like Canada, Jamaica, and England.

Mother had a silver tray that she placed on the coffee table the day the first Christmas card arrived, and would read and re-read all the notes, letters (not at all like today's Christmas "newsletters", and photos that were included. She had a wide circle of friends and relatives who would share family news and personal greetings every year, and as I grew old enough to decipher the handwriting, I , too, got to know them all. Children grew up, married, and had their own kids; elders passed on; local news was shared about neighbors, neighborhoods, and institutions. We marveled at the beautiful, funny, glittery, gilt, and cut-out cards - every one different, just like snowflakes. Mother was a very good correspondent.

Daddy's father, though, was not. Postcards and letters from his sister and cousin in Austria always admonished him to write more often. They obviously had great affection for him, sending photos and postcards of the family in the Old Country with news of the war, of Papa's health, and the fate of the restaurant they owned. I transcribed one Christmas postcard during the first year of this blog, but I will repeat it here:

Attnang, 25. / IX - 915

Lieber Pepi!
Dir und Lucy und Euren Kindern fröhliche Weihnachten und ein frohes Neues-Jahr! Wir Alle sind gesund! Unser Hans steht in Serbien. Toni ist noch in Brooklyn gibt seine alte Addresse! Unser Bruder Karl steht in Russich-Polen in der Front. Mein Mann ist daheim, ist vom Militärdienst befreit, unsere Eltern sind wohlauf. Sorge Dich um uns nicht! Schreib doch ofters! Grüße und küße Dich, sowie Deine Lieben Alle, Deine Schwester
Marie.

Attnang, 25 Nov. 1915
Dear Pepi,
To you and Lucy and your children, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! We are all in good health! Our Hans is posted in Serbia. Toni is still in Brooklyn, gives his old address! Our brother Karl is posted in Russian-Poland on the Front. My husband is at home, is released from military service. Our parents are doing well. Don’t worry about us! But write more often! Love and kisses to you, as well as to all your loved ones, your sister
Marie

We do not own a coffee table. So when the first Christmas card arrives - and it has - I hang a snowman card-holder on the wall in the dining room, and add the new cards as they come. More and more, my correspondents do not write news in the card itself, but include a word-processed newsletter recapping their year. Some even forego the card, and just send the newsletter. This year, I expect more of my friends and family will e-mail their news. That's OK, I guess, but unless we print and post them our kids might never have the pleasure of getting to know our extended family and friends, who span the globe from Singapore and Saipan, Hawaii, the United States, Canada, Jamaica, and United Kingdom and Ireland. Husband's friends range even farther afield, to Europe.

December 03, 2009

Advent Calendar of Christmas Memories

December 3 - Christmas Tree Ornaments
Did your family have heirloom or cherished ornaments? Did you ever string popcorn and cranberries? Did your family or ancestors make Christmas ornaments?
Popcorn and cranberries: never! Hawaii is a warm place, and also very humid. The combination of climate and food attracts bugs - huge inches-long roaches - that will come after dark to eat anything not properly stowed away. No, no food on the tree - not even candy canes in wrappers!

I already mentioned our origami ornaments in a previous post, so I'll write about a different way we've collected ornaments over the years. We have the requisite "First Christmas" lovebirds and "Baby's First Christmas" ornaments. We also have stuffed sheep, koalas, and needlepointed plastic canvas shapes. We have angels and Energizer Bunnies a-plenty. We buy balls every couple of years, or so, as they break or lose their glitter.

But we also have a collection of one-of-a kind hand-crafted ornaments representing gifts I've made for library staff over the past 15 years. I started this tradition when Daughter was an infant, by crocheting lacy bookmarks for select staff I worked closely with. The following year, I decided to include everyone on the Central Library staff, and the year after that, I included everyone who worked in the building - up to 150 people! I forget what the first ornament-gifts were, but they included, over the years, Crocheted wreathes, crocheted snowmen, little Christmas boxes with a Hershey's Kiss inside, felt mice with candy-cane tails, red and white woven heart baskets, woven 3-D ribbon stars, gathered lace snowflakes, braided raffia wreathes with tiny bows and bells, and stuffed felt Teddy bears with Santa caps. I saved one of each to hang on our own Christmas tree.

I made the Teddy bears as a special tribute to a regional library manager in Hawaii. Edna's daughter made the bear pins as a Girl Scout project, and Edna distributed them to her staff. I was impressed by the amount of time they gave in showing their appreciation for us, and it became the inspiration for my own gifting. My original Teddy, shown in the photo, is now about 25 years old, and I still wear it every year. However, he's showing signs of wear, and I wanted to create a successor. What better way than to pass along the goodwill that Edna spread so long ago?

I didn't make gifts the last two years, due to travel and lack of time off, but I hope to pick it up again this year. Maybe it's time to reprise the mice or something small and easy to crochet. Happy Christmas, everyone! I appreciate the work you do, and the many ways you make my work easier.

December 02, 2009

Advent Calendar of Christmas Memories
December 2 - Holiday Foods
Did your family or ancestors serve traditional dishes for the holidays? Was there one dish that was unusual?
Fruitcake, light and dark. Sugar cookies in Christmas shapes with colored sprinkles. Date bars rolled in powdered sugar. Macadamia snowballs, ditto. Gingerbread House made from scratch and held together with toothpicks and royal icing. Bean soup on Christmas Eve.

Baking commenced weeks before Christmas, sometimes longer if the fruitcake was to be alcoholic. Mother made a traditional Jamaican fruitcake one year that involved soaking the fruits in alcohol for the month of October, then baking and wrapping the cake in cheesecloth early in November and dousing it a couple times with rum or whiskey, and letting it ripen until it was time for the marzipan coating. On Christmas Eve, when it was brought out with great ceremony, it was the richest, smoothest, yummiest fruitcake in the world!

Gramma made two kinds of fruitcake, dark and light. I preferred the light because it was so colorful: creamy white center, golden crust, and filled with red and green maraschino cherries and candied citron. Over time, though, I came to prefer the rich, dark fruitcake, and would eat it by the handful.

Gram was also the queen of sugar cookies, churning them out by the dozens, and willing to let us help her decorate them with colorful sugar sprinkles. Stars, trees, crescents, circles, santas, gingerbread boys, all filled with butter and eggs and vanilla and Christmas love.

Mom, who raised four kids and taught piano after school to supplement the budget, liked to make date bars and macadamia snowballs. Sometimes she branched out into shortbread or peanut butter "flowers" with Hershey's kisses pressed into their centers while still warm from the oven.

To keep her antsy children from driving her crazy, Mom started a tradition of inviting the neighbors and their children over on Christmas Eve after dinner to sing Christmas carols, and then to enjoy the fruitcake, cookies and eggnog, hot chocolate, or punch.

My son, who doesn't do chocolate or sweets, developed a particular liking for the date bars, so I am careful to always make a big batch of them every year.

Here's Mom's recipe for Date & Nut Bars:
1/4 c. melted butter
1 c. sugar
3 eggs, well beaten
1 c. flour
1/2 tsp. baking powder
Few grains salt
1 c. dates, cut fine
1 c. nut meats, chopped

Mix ingredients in order given. Spread in pan 14 x 8 inches, lined with waxed paper. Bake 15 to 20 mins. in mod. oven (350). Cut in finger-shaped pieces and roll in powdered sugar while warm. Makes 40.

December 01, 2009

I was scanning through my feeds in Bloglines tonight, and came across this post. Since I am such an irregular writer, I thought this might be a good way to contribute more stories to my 'blog cabin'. So - Here begins my Advent Calendar of Christmas Memories. (Click the link to see the entire list of prompts, if you'd like to start your own calendar of Christmas Memories.)

December 1 - The Christmas Tree
Did you have a real tree or was it artificial? How big was the tree? Who decorated the tree? What types of Christmas trees did your ancestors have?

We have always had a real tree. For a short time, we also had an artificial 18" tabletop tree, but it was considered decorative, and it never replaced the full-sized tree we always purchased, lit, decorated, and watered.

When I was an infant, the family solved the small-child/ornament-grab problem by standing the tree on a table inside the playpen, with the presents under the table and out of reach. I so loved waking up in the morning to the smell of Douglas Fir! Gives me goosebumps even today!

Because firs and pines are not Hawaii natives, trees were shipped in on a boat, and arrived brown and dried. Shopping for a tree was a calculated affair, because you didn't want to get one too early, nor did you want to wait until there were no trees left. Supermarket and box store parking lots were filled with all kinds and sizes of trees. Needles fell off liberally as we thumped prospects on the ground to determine freshness, and we could only keep them in the house for about a week before they became fire hazards. Christmas tree lights got hot enough to burn little fingers!

Once the tree came home, the entire family participated in tree decoration. Dad built a wooden platform out of 1x4s, to which was screwed the actual tree stand. Dad strung the lights, then we children and Mom hung all the ornaments, including the star at the top. We used foil "icicles" to make the tree all shiny, but, being short, balled them up and hurled them at the top branches. Mom always protested, and after we kids went to bed, she would painstakingly re-ice the tree, untangling the silvery strands and re-hanging them strategically so they would shimmer in the breeze that came through the open doors and windows. (It's warm in Hawaii in winter.) When the tree was done, we would gather round the piano and sing carols.

We used the same ornaments every single year, and they eventually grew quite shabby. One year, when I was about 13 or 14, Mom threw out every single one, because she was embarrassed by their condition. That was the year we made origami ornaments out of jewel-toned paper: cranes, frogs, balls, camels, and cut-out white snowflakes; and the tree actually looked quite festive! But origami doesn't last, so the next year, we bought new ornaments.

After I married, the tree we had for my son's first Christmas was a Norfolk Island Pine. These "pines" are native to islands, and last weeks indoors without shedding. As when I was small, we displayed the tree on a table-top to keep the decorations and lights away from tiny hands. Norfolk pines are difficult to light and decorate, so we tied ribbons to our Christmas cards and hung them from the branches - more in scale with the space between the branches.

Today, in California, we go en famille to a Christmas tree farm and cut a fresh 5' tree about two weeks before Christmas. We used to go to Union Mine Pines in Amador County, and the BIG issue, after cutting and netting the tree, was tying it onto the roof of our little sedan. Even with the purchase of the Ford Escort wagon with the roof rack, we always went through the ritual of the towels, duct tape, twine and tiedown bungees, crossing our fingers that we'd make the 40 miles home with the tree still attached. Depending on the selection, we might bring home a fir or a Scotch Pine. Now that my kids are grown and only one is still at home, decoration is less of a festive affair. We play Christmas music while Daughter and Dad string the mini-lights, reminisce over each unmatched ornament and how/from whom we acquired it, and place them on the branches. We do not hang foil icicles. We are again standing the tree on a table - albeit a low one - in order to be able to put gifts under it, out of the traffic pattern. Because the tree is fresh, we often need to top up the reservoir with about a quart of water every day for the first several days, and we can keep the tree indoors for several weeks. Every year, we seem to find the best-looking tree we've ever had!

April 12, 2009

While visiting Mom in Kailua last week, I found and transcribed some of her essays, and will publish them here, because they describe daily life in a far different place and time. This is an essay Mom wrote for a class she was taking at the Windward Community College. I think it was a biography writing class.

Old Nana

With great affection I recall old “nana”, a black woman who had been nursemaid to my aunts and uncles and my mother. In the British Colonial West Indies of the late eighteen and early nineteen hundreds such family servants closely bonded with their employers for a familial affectionate relationship.

When I knew Nana she was confined to her room by the infirmities of age. Her room was part of a barracks for the servants on my Grandfather's estate, Richmond Penn. As a child of about seven or eight years I enjoyed visiting with her, and felt important that I was able to read her Bible to her.

Nana's room was furnished simply – a small cot, a plain table on which she kept her Bible and some religious pictures, as well as her comb, some ointments, and a ewer and basin for washing. She was always sitting in an old, well worn rocking chair. She could not read, but enjoyed singing hymns, and visiting with the other servants. It was the custom of the women servants to paste over the bare walls of their rooms colorful pictures cut out from Mail Order Catalogs. I used to enjoy helping old Nana with this, using home-made paste of flour and water.

Before I was too much older Nana died. My first experience with death, I was more curious than upset. I remember visiting her for the last time when women from her church were preparing her body for burial. She was laid out on her cot dressed in a white cotton gown, and seemed in pleasant sleep. But then, they commenced to comb her hair. Her short, frizzy white hair was carefully parted into small sections, and neatly and tightly braided into short plaits. As they pulled and plaited, I was disturbed to see how her head was jerked about. But soon it was all done, and Nana was again still, her head now elaborately wound about by a white cloth.

That afternoon there was a great gathering at the women's quarters. All the estate servants and laborers, and the Minister and congregation from her Church. I stood on the verandah of the big house and listened to the glorious rise and fall, the rich instinctive harmonies, of all those voices.
All the history of these people, their sorrows, their tragedies, their patient endurance, colored their hymns in a heart-rending way. Nana was properly mourned.

It was their custom, nine days after death, to come together again and celebrate the liberation of the soul - “nine-Night”. This was a joyous occasion and food and rum were plentiful. The singing was now vigorous and accompanied by foot-stomping and hand-clapping. The bodies jerked and swayed, the happy faces sweated, and all sorrow was forgotten for that night.

Fay Schulmeister
August 1990

February 01, 2009

Patrick Owens and Mary Kent

I was clearing out my inbox this afternoon and discovered a message my brother-in-law sent a year ago with numerous attachments. I had looked at a couple of them, and found they were mostly forms or requests for vital records.

However, this afternoon, I discovered that one was a copy of the marriage certificate of Patrick Owens, Marty's grandfather, and Mary Kent. They were married in Manhattan on January 17, 1915. Patrick was a widower at age 39, and it was Mary's first marriage at age 33. Marty's dad said Patrick had had a wife and family in Ireland before he emigrated to the United States.

The marriage certificate names Patrick's parents, Timothy Owens and Bridget King, and says he was an "elevator man". Mary's parents are Martin Kent and Bridget Cotter. Martin Kent was the uncle of Eugene Kent, whom we visited in Ireland in 2006.

September 13, 2008

Not exactly family news, but gratifying nonetheless: I finally found a long-sought album of Jamaican songs last night on iTunes. Grannie Crosswell sent the album to us when we were small children, and we wore it out. Literally. Until the vinyl disk was too scratched to listen to and finally cracked. Over the years, I've been trying to find another copy, to no avail. I couldn't remember the artist's name, and no one else could recollect it, either. But - now I've got the entire album downloaded, and am planning to burn it to CD and give a copy to Mom for Christmas.

So - what is the album? It is "Songs From Jamaica" with Edric Connor and the Caribbeans.

January 29, 2008

I scanned Mother's photos of the Richmond Pen and put them up on Flickr. They are the last four photos in the Jamaica album - three of the Pen and one of Mom, Noel, and Rowley lying on the lawn there.

Mom said five complete families lived in that house simultaneously - her grandparents and several of her aunts and uncles, with spouses and children! She tells of the fun it was, growing up with all the cousins to play with, of an aunt who was not normal and who was kept in private rooms, and of her Grandpa, Simon Soutar, sitting in his office on the top floor - it was the only room - and looking through his spyglass towards Kingston harbor when one of his ships was due.

Here's what she wrote about living there (the "family" consisted of Simon, Jessie, and 10 children):

"The family at first lived at Temple Hall, in the mountains of St. Andrew, a 1200 acre estate about 25 miles from Kgn. When the children became of school age, he bought Richmond Pen, 100 acres about 5 miles from Kingston , near the little village of Half-Way-Tree . On this estate was the foundations of the farm house, two-feet thick stone walls enclosing a cobbled floor. The interior was divided into several compartments with [?????] doors and windows - all surrounded by a cobbled walk-way edged by thick stone arches. Upon this foundation Grandpa built, pagoda-like, 3 storeys containing 10 bedrooms, large dining room, drawing room & another room he called the front piazza. This opened on to the veranda which encircled this first storey.
"I spend the first 20 years of my life in this house, which I will try to describe.
"When I was about 8 yrs Grandpa died. He had been for his early morning walk around the estate apparently, felt ill, and lay down under one of the trees. The dog that accompanied him ran barking back & forth. My brother, Noel, followed the dog to Grandpa. He passed on peacefully, his hat over his face. He had no religious affiliation & is buried in the cemetery of St. Andrew Parish Church at Half Way Tree."

For a class she took, mom wrote an account of weathering a hurricane at the Pen.

January 09, 2008

Day 4 - The Party

After lunch, Peter and I went to see Ainsley Henriques, who is a leader in the Jamaican Jewish community, and who has been working on a huge project to index and map the Jewish cemeteries. We know our Ur-Ancestor, Noel Crosswell, is buried in a Jewish cemetery, and I thought it might be neat to see if we could find his grave. Ainsley said many graves no longer have stones, and Noel's name is not in the index. He was able to give an educated guess as to where it might be. However, we ran out of time, and had to return to Fee's house for the big family get-together and dinner.

At 6 p.m., the elder family members began arriving: Mother's cousins, Joan and Farren, an in-law, Audrey, and their assorted children with spouses. By 7, everyone else began walking in. We also invited Noel Vaz and Mr. and Mrs. Wycliff Bennet, people who knew mother. Many had not ever seen the family portraits, and they became the center of the conversation for a while.

Soon the house was full, and Glenn, the Bar Man, was filling everyone's hand with some liquid cheer. Maxine prepared a repast that included crackers and a spread made from salt fish and tomatoes and onions; there was also boiled green bananas, roast chicken, rice and peas, a salad, and I'm probably missing something. Nicola brought the desserts: home-made individual pavlovas, cheesecake, and another cake.

Velia sang, accompanied on the piano by Lloyd Hall, and later Yekengale. I was so busy circulating that I only took about four photos. I am depending on the others, Peter, Velia, Fee, and Nicola, to share the ones they took. We talked, laughed, caught up all the news, ate, and sang until the wee hours, and finally, as the guests took their leave, Peter brought us to his house in May Pen, as he had to preach the sermon at Mass the following morning. Velia and I were so wired up from the party that we talked until 2 a.m.

Nest morning, Peter commented that "every living relative on the island" came to greet me. I was genuinely moved by their friendliness and kindness, and wished with all my heart I didn't have to leave so soon. My cousins, who were children and teens when we last visited, all grew up to be remarkable and interesting adults, many with spouses and children. We are expecting to stay in touch from now on.

January 01, 2008

After 40 Years

I am going back to Jamaica tomorrow for the first time in forty years! I was invited by two of my cousins to come and visit, and since I had already requested this week off from work six months ago, I decided to use it by taking them up on their offer. Forty years ago, we were all teenagers; now, we all have adult children. Mother's cousins were my age, then; now, they are her age: 90s. I think this will be a good visit.

I am also blogging the trip on my other blog, Halona, the Peering Place. You may find photos thers.

April 05, 2007

Today is Holy Thursday. It's been a long time since I went to Mass at Eastertime. I was thinking about the traditional things we used to do during Holy Week, because Laurel said something about not getting Easter baskets any more, now that she's no longer a little kid .

Tomorrow is Good Friday. I decided, since I'm off on Fridays, to make Hot Cross Buns. I found my grandmother's recipe, handwritten and slipped between the pages of a scrapbook she used to hold her recipes. Typically, for her, she included only the ingredients, and not the directions.

Gramma Lucy (Picadura) Schulmeister was a baker by profession, making the bread served in the Farrington High School cafeteria in the 1940s and 1950s. We used to enjoy home-made breads and rolls regularly, usually tied to seasons of the year, but not always. We had malasadas on "Malasadas Day" (mardi gras), hot cross buns and sweet bread (Pao Dulce) for Easter, and fruitcake and Three Kings Bread for Christmas. And white bread at other odd times during the year, when the spirit moved her.

So, tomorrow, I'm off on an adventure - to re-create the Hot Cross Buns she used to make every year on Good Friday. Here's her recipe:

HOT CROSS BUNS
2 package yeast, 1/4 cup luke
warm water, 1/2 cup sugar
1 cup milk, 2 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup shortening, 2 eggs
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/8 " " nutmeg,
1/2 cup raisins
1/2 " mixed glazed fruits
5 cups flour soften yeast in warm
water

March 10, 2007

This is a reaction paper my mother wrote for a biographical writing class she took at a local community college 17 years ago. While visiting her last week, I came across several of her papers, and decided to transcribe them for the purpose of sharing with the family. Here is the first.


9/2/90 “HURRICANE” Fay Schulmeister

Learning Log

I enjoyed the author’s economical use of language, which nevertheless gave vivid descriptions of the passage of the hurricane. He also managed to reveal his personality. I got the impression of a sturdy, practical person and a perfectionist. I admired his gut instinct to leap to what he saw needed to be done. I appreciated his recognition of the forces of nature, to be accepted and dealt with.

The description of the onslaught of the hurricane, and its passage, reminded me vividly of hurricanes experienced in Jamaica In my youth, although my experiences were inland. One particular occasion I recall particularly.

We were a large family, of three generations, living in a five-storey house built of stone, stucco and wood, with many windows, jalousied walls, and doors. At the warning everyone sprang into action, through long practice knowing exactly what to do. Doors, windows and jalousies had to be battened. Storm lanterns were gathered, cleaned and wicks trimmed, then filled with oil. Matches were put to hand. The estate workers and house servants waited it out in the stone-enclosed first storey. The family gathered on the second floor.

We felt the changing atmospheric pressure, saw the lowering black clouds, heard the light wind and rain. Then, all at once, came the impact of raging winds hurling what seemed like leaden sheets of rain against the house. There were sounds of creaking wood, of tree branches snapping and being blown against the house. We wondered if the roof would hold – one crack and the wind would roar in and lift it of. It was awe-inspiring to watch tall coconut trees whipped almost to the ground, and not breaking.

Then came the threatening silence of the eye. We braced ourselves. Suddenly, with unimaginable viciousness, winds and rain raged, seemingly from every direction.

After several hours all was quiet. We were thankful the roof held, and set about unbattening doors and windows. No one had been hurt, our house had withstood damage, and soon there was a joyful chattering as we all exchanged observations.

I was impressed by the author’s use of unusual verbs and similes to convey the impact of the rage of the elements; for example “The wind …. Ripped the water like a black sheet. It hammered like a fist.” I also remarked his winding down to normalcy, with his whiskey, and his return to peaceful placidity.

(Instructor’s note: “Do you think he was right to cut the ropes on the other boats? I enjoyed your description of the hurricane you experienced. (+) )

March 04, 2007

Among my mother's photos, we came across this one, labeled,"1921 St. Andrew's School." Mother says she is in the first standing row, on the left. In the back row, the left-most boy is her brother Rowley, and two heads over to the right is her cousin Simon Soutar, grandson of the Simon who came from Isle of Man. Between them, in the next row down is Eily Soutar, Simon's next-older sister.

I wish I had found this before I took the other photos of Una Soutar to be scanned and copied to a CD. It is in very fragile condition and the mat is falling apart in my fingers. I am going to order some acid-free archival storage boxes to store this and other artifacts in, and maybe preserve them from further deterioration.

February 28, 2007

I am taking the opportunity, while visiting mom this week, to look through her old photo albums. In particular, I am looking for mom's scrapbook and that of her mother, chronicling their theatre days in Jamaica. Nicola is looking for photos and information for inclusion in a book about the theatre in Jamaica that will be sold as a fund-raiser for the restoration of the Ward Theatre.

Dave has a scanner, but he says it saves files in tiff format and they are huge. I guess I'll have to find a Kinko's somewhere, where I can scan the photos and articles and save them to my flash drive.

I found some wonderful old photos of the "Soutar Sisters", as well as photos of my dad's side of the family. When Earl and Aunt Jo come on Friday, we'll go over them and try to date them and name the individuals pictured.