Back when I was visiting England a lot, I got to know Ian and Denise. Ian was in a band called Magpie, they had a yellow Citroen Deux Chevaux they called Big Bird, I think. They had a leather couch and once, after an argument in which a tea/coffee mug was broken one of them created art with the broken pieces. I think I liked them because they seemed like the perfect couple.
When I was in 6th grade (and beyond) I had a crush on a boy named Jeff. For years I wondered what happened to him and finally found him via his grandfather’s obituary. We emailed and texted a bit — our mutual friend, Carol, was much more excited to have found Jeff alive and well.
I remember his family was well-to-do, at least more-so than mine.
I’ve kept some photographs of him, and at least one thing he drew on a notebook of mine. I know he’s mentioned in my online journals too.
As I find more photos and things I will add them here.
I’ve been meaning to write a post about this photo I found among my mother’s things. It is so faded that it is difficult to see the men, but it looks like it may have been taken around the Civil War years, based on the clothes and hair styles, but I am absolutely no expert on Civil War era fashion.
I assume they are ancestors of mine — possibly Tylers, although I don’t know what makes me think that. I suppose they could be McCornacks.
The photographer, J. M. Adams is mentioned on this blog post and a Facebook member of a group about Elgin History posted two of the photographer’s studio.
A faux alligator skin briefcase sat unopened in Mom’s attic for several years. I brought the briefcase home after one trip to Elgin. Its contents were a jumble of receipts for a Harriet G. Switzer of 270 Watch St. Elgin, Illinois; a newspaper clipping about a meeting featuring Seaborn Wright , a well-preserved Switzer family tree ; and tatting thread, needles and some unfinished bits of lace. I’ve carefully untangled the thread, stored it and the needles with my grandmother’s tatting supplies, I blogged about the newspaper clipping and now I want to discover who Harriet was.
According to Ancestry dot com, Harriet was born Harriet G. Van Volkenburg to Nancy Plummer and John Van Velkenburg in Hampshire, Illinois, September 1871. She married Howard Switzer on January 1, 1889. By the turn of the century Harriet and Howard, still living in Hampshire, Illinois, had two sons, Albert (9) and Elmer (1). Howard made a living at farming. Tragically, Howard died in 1904 at the age of 48.
The 1910 census lists Harriet as living with her 19 and 11 year old sons at 366 Yarwood Street in Elgin, Illinois. She is listed as being employed by the nearby Elgin Watch Factory as a polisher. Albert is listed as being a carpenter. Another tragedy befell the family when, in 1918, Albert, by then a farmer, died in Hampshire.
In 1920 Harriet and her son, Elmer were living at 332 St. Charles Street. Harriet still worked for the Watch Factory, but was now a “piece worker.” Elmer worked as a truck driver for a thread factory . In August of 1920 Elmer married Emma Sommerfeldt.
By July of 1921 Harriet had moved again, this time to 270 Watch Street. According to the 1930 census she owned this home. Harriet began furnishing her home with flooring, rugs and furniture from the Wait and Ross Furniture Company and A. Leith & Company .
Harriet not only furnished her home, but she hired O (?). W. Bayliss (Bayless?) to do some work around her house on 3 separate occasions beginning July 1, 1921.
She bought something from H. B. Cornwall in November 1921 for $40.
In March of 1923 she bought insurance from Ellis and Western for $12.
In March of 1924 she bought 3 years worth of tornado insurance worth $1250 from Edward F. Prideaux for $5.00.
In 1930, Harriet, now 59 years old worked in the spring department of the Watch Factory. Her home was worth $5000 according to the census.
Harriet continued to live on Watch Street until her death in 1943. She is buried in a small cemetery outside Hampshire called “Old Starks Cemetery.”
It’s been fun spending a morning and part of an afternoon learning about Harriet’s life. I’m glad she spent her last 20 or so years in her own house.
- which has been published in a book called Atlanta Beer: A Heady History of Brewing In the Hub of the South [↩]
- which was likely Collingbourne Mills, the same factory my Grandpa Green sold thread for and where Hyman Herron worked in the shipping department. [↩]
- I cannot find any mention of this company on the Internet [↩]
Here’s a list from 1973. My mom would have been 33. I especially like my dad’s addition near the bottom. And the back is priceless . I think Mom was simply creative and she really just wanted to draw. Draw and make lists — even for other people. I was not given a list, I guess. I wonder what my jobs were.
- to save space I only scanned the text and drawing [↩]
When I was going though a box of correspondence from my mom’s house I came across a small, folded note in an unmarked envelope. Now, my mom kept pretty much every piece of correspondence she received, so it was not unusual that she kept this, but it was a surprise to me and made me very uncomfortable because 1) I didn’t know anything about it and 2) it put me in a very bad light.
It took me a while to figure out that the note was from Julia. I thought, at first, that there was someone I’d been unkind to named Pat Knight who I’d completely forgotten, then I realized it was from Julia.
Readers of this blog may recall that I briefly had a roommate from England shortly after I moved out of my mom’s house and it ended badly. She was beautiful, blond, British and outgoing. At the time I felt much inferior to her, appearance-wise. We’d go to a bar and guys would be lining up to meet her. There were times guys seemed to want to get to know me because they wanted to get closer to her. To put it bluntly, I was envious of her looks and ease with men.
I actually looked forward to her returning to the States  as my roommate before she arrived; and I know we had some fun together. The part about me only allowing her to come back to the States because I owed it to my parents is not right — I may have said it, but that was easier to say than admit that I was jealous of her looks and accent and how guys acted around her. I also was not jealous of the relationship she was growing with my family .
I know I was difficult to live with, but at the time I felt as if I were the injured party. I paid the rent and she didn’t always have the cash for her part of the rent. I paid for her medical bills when she went to the doctor because she had no insurance. I did the housekeeping and did our laundry. I definitely resented her for a lot of things and I am sure it showed.
There were other things that I won’t mention here, but both of us were on shaky ground based on societal rules (and U. S. and state laws) of the time.
The part about the letter is probably true. I don’t remember writing it, but I hated how I was acting, I hated the jealousy I was feeling. I’d long felt that there was something wrong with me because I had such a short fuse and would explode at the slightest provocation.
For years afterwards friends and family members would ask me if I’d ever heard from her or knew where she was living. I didn’t until I got in touch with her brother, and then got in touch with her in 2010. This year we became friends on Facebook.
And as I told Julia in an email nearly 8 years ago — she’s why Dean and I are together. Dean and I dated a few times in 1979, but I wanted to date someone else. A year later Dean, who was a client of the salon where Julia worked, had her for a hair washer. When he heard her talk he asked if she knew me. She said yes and that he should call me. He did and the rest is history.Notes: