Struck by Lightning

Thomas Linton Roberts & Elizabeth Morrisette Roberts of Camden, North Carolina were my 2^nd great grandparents on my maternal side.  Thomas was a farmer and they married in 1855.  The couple had 9 children, their daughter, Jane, was my great grandmother, and I was named after her. 

Thomas was only 50 years old when he died in a sad and unusual incident.  The family was having a picnic meal under a large oak tree in their yard one summer afternoon and Thomas was struck by lightning and killed. It is said that it had thundered only one time and the lightning struck a pine tree and then jumped and came over to the oak tree that the family was under.  Thomas had just said the blessing and had taken up his knife and fork when he was struck.  He died along with the family dog that was at his feet.  Everyone else was knocked away from the table.

Some details about Thomas and Elizabeth’s life are known from handwritten notes written by their granddaughter, Ida Ophelia Roberts Robertson.  And a distant Morrisette cousin has taken those shared facts, and written the story of Elizabeth and Thomas’ life in the form of an open letter from Elizabeth to her family, and uploaded it online at Ancestry.  This is longer than my usual blog post, but I think you will enjoy reading about Elizabeth and Tom in the following narrative:

Were It Not For Stories Passed Down

By Stephen M. Morrisette

5 Jun 2011

 

The heart of this story, the very core facts, were recorded by Ida Roberts Robertson.  She was the daughter of James Monroe Roberts, the youngest child mentioned in this story.  The handwritten notes eventually fell into the hands of Monica who is the great grandchild of Jestine, also mentioned in this story.  Thanks to Monica for transcribing the original handwritten letter into readable bullet statements and posting them on Ancestry.

 

I took Monica’s bullet statements and converted the story into a narrative format.  This required me to suppose certain facts.  For instance I state that at the time of the incident Elizabeth had to leave Tom lying in the rain.  That fact was not passed down to us but we were told Tom was a large man and we were told Elizabeth was a slight woman.  It was also supposed that it was raining.

 

[I wrote this story because I am a Morrisette, not a Roberts.  Elizabeth is very distantly related to me, so it is my family history too.]

 

 

Dear Cousins,

 

My name was…. well let’s see…. for the last 15 years of my life I was known as the Widow Roberts.  For 26 years before that I was known as Mrs. T.L. Roberts and before that I was just plain Elizabeth Morrisette.  I suppose some of my family called me Lizzie or Beth or even Bettie but why don’t you just call me Elizabeth?

 

I was born in Camden County, North Carolina about 1834; nobody seems to remember exactly when.  I was always a small girl.  I had black hair and black eyes like the Indians but my skin was fair, like regular folks.  When I was young they used to tease me that they were going to give me back to the Indians.  That threat always scared me even though nobody was serious and there wasn’t any Indians left to give me back to.  I used to have nightmares about it.  I had lots of nightmares when I was little.

 

My father was Phillip Morrisette.  I had no memory of him because he died when I was quite small.  He died some time after my baby sister Harriet was born, in 1837.  My mama, died when I was little bit older.  I had some memories of her, but not many.

 

I was put up with any number of relatives until my half-brother William Jones Morrisette took me in, permanent.  He was 16 years my elder and by the time I moved in he was married to Julia Burfoot.  William and Julia had a big home in Camden.  They were some of the sophisticates in the county.  This was the closest thing I had to a real home, when I was young.  I was raised right along with my cousins; Henry Clay, Mary and the babies Willy and Cornelia. 

 

My father’s estate was pretty big and each of his children was to receive a large amount of land, but I never received my share.  But William received his.  He was well educated and had plenty of money.  He was always into politics of one sort or another.  William eventually became a Representative of the North Carolina Government.  I was given a proper primary education.  I was taught to walk erect and sit straight, never letting my back touch the chair.  I had become something of a lady and William and Julia saw something in me that I never caught site of.

 

When I was of courting age I was attracted to a big man with Sandy hair and blue eyes.  His name was Thomas Linton Roberts.  He was a local farmer.  But William and Julia kept introducing me to some of the more gentile men in the county.  Most of them were nice enough but none of them held a candle to that big farmer Tom.  William would not have it and I had to wait until I was at the age of majority to finally stand my ground and announce that I was going to marry Thomas.

 

Still, my brother objected and refused to allow the wedding to take place in his home.  But my half-sister Chloe and her husband Jeremiah offered their home for the purpose.  I guess you could say it was my home too because it was the home of my father and mother.  Some folks said Jeremiah and Chloe got my share of my Father’s estate. 

 

In any event, on Thursday, the 22^nd of February, 1855, Justice of the Peace Thomas Palmer performed Tom and my nuptials, in the parlor of the home I was born in.  We didn’t use a church or preacher because Tom was not much of a church going man.

 

It seems like everyone wants to start their stories by stating they had the worst winter ever recorded.  Well, I don’t know about that but within days of our marriage Camden was hit by a terrible storm.  The snow was as high as a four-rail fence and a lot of folks lost a lot of livestock that February.

 

But Tom and I had moved into a home in Camden in a part of town they called Dog Corner.  Tom’s aged mother moved in with us.  She stayed with us until she died, 17 years later.  We had two children before the war.  Nancy was born in 1855 and Mary came along in 1858.

 

Oh, that damned old war.  There was conflict between the North and the South as long as I could remember.  We just each did things different ways.  Nothing much seemed to happen but talk; always the talk.  My brother, William was always talking up the Confederacy in his high faluting meetings.  But it all came to a head when Mr. Lincoln was elected President.  The Confederacy was created and war was declared.

 

Damn you, Mr. Lincoln.  So many boys went off to war and never came back.  So many boys went off to war and came back missing arms and legs or worse.  I was so afraid Tom would get called up.  There were always recruiters coming through the county. 

 

In 1862, our little Jane came along.  We named her after Tom’s older sister.

 

There seemed to be no end to the war and it was going badly.  We didn’t have a lot of battles in North Carolina but we gave more boys to the war than any other state.  It was time for me to realize the war was going to take Tom too.  In preparation for his departure he bought a little farm just outside of Riddle on the south side of Sanderlin Swamp.  We grew cotton for a cash crop.  We had a vegetable garden and a nice orchard.

 

We had a large house made of juniper logs.  It was 30 feet by 15 feet.  It was a one story affair with a loft.  The house even had a ceiling.  It had a separate kitchen.  The outbuildings included a barn, a stable, a cow shelter, a hen house and a crib.

 

Our fourth child, another daughter, came in the spring of 1863.  I named this little girl after myself; Elizabeth Morrisette Roberts.

 

I was a member of the Shiloh Baptist Church but I could not get Tom to attend.  He was a good Christian man but he had differences with the people of the church and the pastor, Charlie Williams.  He did however get along famously with Pastor Williams’ father, Sim.  In fact, when Sim went off to war, Tom loaned him his muzzle loading shot gun and asked Sim to bring himself and the gun back in one piece.  Sim obliged him.  Sim and the gun returned and were both a little worse for wear and the gun had the name S.W. Williams carved on the stock.

 

In April of 1865, Richmond fell and we burned the city ourselves.  Can you imagine we burned our own capital!  Tom was finally called up and he answered the call.  We got the crops into the ground.  It was so hard watching Tom work the fields not knowing how I would harvest the crops, in the fall.  I experienced the terror that so many women had faced before me. 

 

The day finally came.  My heart was in my throat.  The kids that were old enough cried and begged their father not to go.  But Tom was called and he marched off to Elizabeth City to then be taken to Roanoke Island by boat.  I had no idea if I would ever see him again.

 

Perhaps all of that praying I had done at church paid off.  Shortly after Tom left us, a neighbor woke me in the night by pounding on the door.  He said General Lee had surrendered to General Grant and the war was lost.  I held my breath for his next sentence.  He said he had seen Tom in Elizabeth City and that Tom would be home later that very night.

 

Tom came back home without firing a shot.  His only injury was the loss of his rifle which he had to surrender to the Union Army.  This was most grievous to him especially considering he had never fired it at a Union soldier.  We celebrated as only a husband and wife could.

 

Our cash crop came in that fall and another season of life unfolded on our little farm.  The following year little Martha was born.  She was also named after Tom’s sister, Martha Jane.  Then, three more seasons before our little Jestine came into our lives.  She was named after another of Tom’s sisters.

 

Then in 1872, after giving birth to six daughters, as a tool in God’s hands, I finally gave Tom a son.  He was named Thomas, after his father.

 

Next came a season of tears.  God took back Mary and Martha.  They were just 17 and 9 years of age.  Our grief was lightened with the birth of our second son, George.  Then in 1876, we lost our oldest child Nancy.  She was in her prime and just 21 years old.  None of the girls we lost were able to fulfill the full measure of their creation.  Tom, not being a church going man, had an especially hard time with the loss of three of his girls.

 

But I took Tom back to our marriage bed and despite my age God blessed us with one more child.  In 1878, James Monroe Roberts arrived in our home making for three sons to carry on the family name.  Tom was pleased and for the first time in a number of years, at peace.

 

Then, three years later, my life was forever changed.  The date was 8 July, 1881, about 4:00 in the afternoon.  All of the family that was still at home had gathered at the watermelon table, under the big Oak, in our gate yard.  My daughter Elizabeth was married and at her own home.  My darling Jane was visiting Elizabeth.  

 

I had set dinner out and Tom had just finished saying grace.  I saw a lightning bolt strike a pine tree in the swamp but I did not see that the bolt had split and also struck the Oak we were sitting under.  I was knocked unconscious.  When I woke up, I could see that we had all been knocked away from the table.  Tom and Jestine were lying, motionless, on the ground.  The three boys were not seriously hurt but were terrified.  I crawled over to Tom and saw that he was dead.  I then crawled over to Jestine.  She was alive but I could not wake her.

 

I gathered the boys around me.  Tom was 9 years old, George was 6 and Jim was just 3.  I sent Tom to get help.  I somehow got the little boys into the house and managed to carry Jestine to her bed.  We had to leave Tom lying out in the rain.  Before long, Ambroze Dozier and Neil Riggs showed up and tended to Tom’s body.

 

We nursed Jestine all that night and she finally came around the next day.  Another neighbor, Dorsey Knight from over to Indiantown built Tom’s coffin.  It had to be a big coffin for a big man.  We buried him in the Camden cemetery.

 

There was nothing to do but carry on.  Jestine and I recovered from our injuries and we all slowly got used to life without Tom.  The brothers from the church helped bring in the crops that Tom had planted. 

 

It was hard but we got by.  I stayed there on that farm for another 8 years mostly raising my surviving children.  The Oak tree that changed our lives still bore the scar the day we drove off of the farm.

 

We moved to the Luke Lamb place about one mile outside of Shiloh. We stayed there for four years.  During that time, Little Tom married one of the Sanderlin girls.  In 1893, we moved again.  We rented the Will Shaw place, over in Shawboro in Currituck County.  The following year, we moved to the Margaret Baxter place, renting it from Joe Bell.

 

I stayed there until pneumonia took me in 1896.  Mr. Charles Lewis Perkins took me back to Camden and buried me next to Tom.

*  *  *  *  *

Key Individuals:

     Thomas Linton Roberts  (1830 – 1881)

     Elizabeth Morrisette Roberts  (1834 – 1896)

             Nancy Roberts  (1855 – 1876)

             Polly Roberts  (1858 – 1875)

             Jane Roberts   (1861 – 1933)

             Elizabeth Morrisette Roberts  (1863-1941)

             Martha P Roberts  (1866 – 1875)

             Jestine Morrisette Roberts  (1869 – 1940)

             Thomas Marcellus Roberts  (1872 – 1945)

             George Lewis Roberts  (1875 – 1950)

             James Monroe Roberts  (1878 – 1962)

- Jane Scribner McCrary

John Howland overboard on the Mayflower

In October 2020, my blog post was about our family Mayflower connection and my research that connects our family back to the Mayflower voyage along with possible provenance gaps in the documentation. 

It is well known that John Howland and his future wife, Elizabeth Tilley, were among the 102 passengers aboard the Mayflower in 1620.   John boarded the Mayflower as an indentured servant to John Carver.  The three month voyage aboard the Mayflower was a difficult journey for the passengers and crew with turbulent weather and lack of proper rations.  After arriving in New England, the group was decimated with almost half of the passengers dying in the first harsh and cold winter.

According to the accounting of William Bradford, John Howland nearly lost his life while traversing the icy Atlantic Ocean aboard the Mayflower. 

“In sundry of these storms the winds were so fierce, and the seas so high, as they could not bear a knot of sail, but were forced to hull, for divers days together. And in one of them, as they thus lay at hull, in a mighty storm, a lusty young man, John Howland, coming upon some occasion above the gratings, was, with a seele [sail] of the ship thrown into the sea; but it pleased God that he caught hold of the topsail halyards, which hung overboard, and ran out at length; yet he held his hold (though he was sundry fathoms under water) till he was hauled up by the same rope to the brim of the water, and then with a boat hook and other means got into the ship again, and his life saved; and though he was something ill with it, yet he lived many years after, and became a profitable member both in church and commonwealth.”

 

Howland was smart enough to grab a loose halyard rope that was hanging off the ship and clung for dear life until the crewmen were able to pull him back on board the ship.  This narrow escape with death allowed John to have a long life and a prominent place in history.

John Howland was the son of Henry Howland and his wife, Margaret.  John was born around 1592 and was believed to have lived in Fenstanton, England for most of his childhood.  He was not a son of a wealthy family as evidenced by his having been an indentured servant as a young man.

Prior to the ship’s landing at Plymouth, John Howland was among the men that signed the Mayflower Compact, an important document outlining the self-government of the colony.  The document was a democratic acknowledgement of their liberty in a community of law and order with each person having the right to participate in the government.

About a year after the arrival of the Mayflower in America, John Carver, the first Governor of Plymouth and the person to whom John was indentured, became sick and died.  Carver’s wife died five weeks later and they had no children or natural heirs entitled to the Carver estate. It is believed that John Howland may have been kin to Carver and likely inherited some or all of Carver’s possessions and land rights.  In 1621, after Carver’s death, Howland became a freeman. 

William Bradford succeeded John Carver as the leader of the Plymouth Colony.  Bradford’s journal revealed that Elizabeth Tilley was the daughter of John Tilley and his wife, Joan Hurst Tilley.  Elizabeth was born in Henlow, Bedfordshire, England and she and her parents were passengers on the Mayflower.  John Tilley and his wife Joan both died the first winter as did John Tilley’s brother, Edward Tilley, and his wife Ann.  Elizabeth was left an orphan and so she was taken in by the Carver family. 

When the Carvers both died, part of their estate was inherited by John Howland, and Elizabeth became his ward.  By 1624, John Howland was considered the head of what was once the Carver household when he was granted an acre for each member of the household including himself, Elizabeth Tilley, Desire Minter, and a boy named William Latham. 

Around 1623 or 1624, John Howland married Elizabeth Tilley.  Within several years, John served at various times as a selectman, assistant and deputy governor, surveyor and as a member of the fur committee.  Young John Howland became a leader in the Plymouth colony.  

Together John & Elizabeth raised ten children that all lived to adulthood.  And they lived remarkably long lives as they both reached at least 80 years of age..  John Howland and his wife, fellow Mayflower passenger Elizabeth Tilley, had 10 children and more than 80 grandchildren.  Today, an estimated 2 million Americans can trace their roots to this couple.

*  *  *  *  *

Key individuals:

       John (the Mayflower) Howland  (1592 – 1672)

       Elizabeth Tilley Howland  (1607 – 1687)

 

Notes:

Now for an update concerning lineage provenance from the General Society of Mayflower Descendants.  In my October 2020 blog post titled “A Mayflower Connection, or not” I outlined what I believe is our line of descent from John Howland & Elizabeth Tilley Howland as noted below: 

   John Howland (1592-1672) m. Elizabeth Tilley (1607-1687) [Mayflower]

      John Howland (1627-1702) m. Mary Lee

         Experience Howland (1668-1728) m. James Bearse/Bierse

            Experience Bearse (1692-1735) m. Dennis Edgerton

               Experience Edgerton (1725-?) m. Benjamin Howland

                  Abraham Howland (1762-1853) m. Anna Staples

                     Islethera Howland (1802-1843) m. David Scribner 

And then I cited a 2007 comment from the General Society of Mayflower Descendants that indicated that it “has never been proved that John and Mary (Lee) Howland’s daughter/son Experience married James Bearse, and the Mayflower Society does not accept this line as a Mayflower lineage.”

Next, in correspondence dated April 30, 2020, the Society accepted that Experience Howland did indeed marry James Bearse/Bierce, however they only recognized 4 of their children, namely James, Priscilla, Rebecca and Shubael.  We were getting closer, but still needed recognition for another daughter named Experience to prove our line.

I wrote the General Society of Mayflower Descendants after I posted the Mayflower Connection blog asking for an update, and was pleased to see that there has been progress.  In a responding email to me it was noted: 

“Until recently, it was not known whether Experience Howland, child of John Howland and Mary Lee, was a male or female, so lineages going through Experience Howland and James Bearse were not accepted by the Mayflower Society. However, recent research has proven this lineage to be valid. The Mayflower Society now has a manuscript of a Bearse Genealogy which will help prove your Howland lineage through your 6th generation: Abraham Howland m. Anna Staples. You may use this manuscript to help prove your Howland lineage!” – Erin Gillett, Research Assistant, GSMD 

I haven’t pursued this anymore since I was never actually interested in applying for membership in the Society of Mayflower Descendants.  However if this interests you, then you will be pleased that several more generations on our line have now been accepted as proven by the Mayflower Society. 

With this update, you should be able to have your application accepted in time by providing marriage and birth documentation for the generations beginning with Abraham Howland and Anna Staples down to our present day. 

 – Jane Scribner McCrary

My Gram – Grandmother Scribner

My Gram, Theresa Eugenia Gordon Scribner, known as “Jean”, was born in Brooklyn in 1888, the fourth child of John Calvin Gordon and his wife Helen King Gordon.  Her mother was the daughter of Irish immigrants.  John was a carpenter in his younger years, and a local Brooklyn, New York builder by the time that Jean was born.  The couple had six children between 1883 and 1902.   In 1912, at the age of 24, Jean married Henry “Harry” Dickinson Scribner and they made a home in Brooklyn.

It was several years after they married before Jean and Harry’s first child, Virginia, was born.  In recent years, I have learned that Jean spent some of that time working as a nurse or Red Cross worker.  This was during the time of World War I, and I expect that many wounded soldiers were returning home for medical treatment.

My Gram was always quite proud of her early family history connections.  One Christmas I received a cute small purse that was made with the blue & green wool of the Gordon clan tartan – I still have it.  My brothers got Gordon tartan ties that same year.  Gram also knew that her grandmother was a Snedeker and that her Snedeker ancestors were early New York settlers in the Oyster Bay and Flatbush areas dating back to the 1600’s [see the blog posts for An Early Snedeker Immigrant, February 2021, and Echoes of a Past Epidemic, April 2020 for some of her Snedeker family history].

Jean’s mother, Helen King Gordon, died unexpectedly in early 1919, possibly from the Spanish flu epidemic, while visiting one of her daughters, Lillian, in Washington, D.C.  After that, Helen Marie, the youngest Gordon sibling, came to live with Jean and Harry for a couple of years until Helen married.

Jean and Harry had three children during their early years in Brooklyn, and later moved the family to a home in Huntington, Long Island.  In 1943, Harry died when my father was 19 years old.  Jean continued to live in their Long Island home for another 27 years.  Theresa Eugenia Gordon Scribner died in late 1970.

 

My memories of my Gram were limited because as a military family, we never lived near New York.  There were always phone calls with my parents, and occasional trips to New York to visit, probably over the holidays or summers, and several times that she came to visit us when we lived in Florida, Arizona and New Mexico.  I remember her lovely home, a grandfather clock sticks in my mind, and also big holiday meals, Thanksgiving, Christmas or both in her dining room.

Gram was always quite proper, and we usually had to do a lot of spring cleaning before she arrived at our home for a visit; and then once she arrived, we had to be on our best behavior.  It sounds like she was difficult to get along with, and maybe she was, but I’m not sure that was really the case.  I remember that Gram was kind, and I think that everyone was just careful because we knew that she had high expectations for most everything in life, and my brothers, sister and I simply weren’t around her enough to be really comfortable with her.  

I always knew that Gram was a generous person.  Each birthday each of us would get a card with a little cash, and she would send each of my parents a generous check on their birthday with clear instructions that they were not to spend the money on family needs, but were instead to buy something special for themselves.  I remember that my mother would cash her check and then keep her birthday money in an envelope in her dresser.  Sometimes it would be months before she spent it.  I can remember shopping with Mom when she would decide to buy something with her birthday money – it was a real treat for her.

Another thing that my Gram very much believed in was for her granddaughters (she had 3 granddaughters and 7 grandsons) to know that we should always be willing to, and able to, support ourselves.  Good advice from someone who spent much of her life as a widow.  

*  *  *  *  *

  

Key Individuals:

     John Calvin Gordon  (1860 – 1945)

     Helen Teresa King Gordon  (1861 – 1919)

             Theresa Eugenia Gordon Scribner  (1888 – 1970)

             Henry Dickinson Scribner  (1880 – 1943)

 

Notes: 

I recently came across a note that Gram wrote to me in 1970 while I was in high school and living in New Mexico.  In the note, you can also tell that she felt the loss of our family not living near enough to see her very often.  I must have sent her a school picture.  It reads:

“Dearest Jane, Thank you for the darling picture of you, it is nice to have and see how you have grown up, very pretty indeed; if I may say so, without you thinking of me as a foolish proud Grandma, but I have missed the pleasure of living near enough to enjoy those early years... Take care of your parents and much love to all.  Gram”                                           

Another Gram story had to do with my desire to get my ears pierced in high school.  The answer was definitely not until I was 18 years old, and was accompanied with the comment that “Your Gram would roll over in her grave.”  And, yes, I had my ears pierced once I turned 18.

- Jane Scribner McCrary

The Grandfather I Never Knew

I’ve decided to stay with the family of my Scribner paternal grandparents for the next couple of blog posts.  My paternal grandfather died before my parents even met, thus I never knew him at all.  But I do know about him and will share some of that in this blog post.  Henry Dickinson Scribner, known as Harry, was born in the Mystic area of New London, Connecticut in 1880, probably at the home of his widowed grandmother, Mary Ann Brown Dickinson Hale.  

Harry’s parents were Captain David Alba Scribner & Virginia Augusta Hale Scribner.  Harry was David & Virginia’s second child, with an older brother, Wallace Flint Scribner.  Unfortunately, Wallace died of illness when Harry was only a year old.

After the loss of young Wallace, the family grew with the subsequent addition of two sisters Mary and Ella.  For the first 12 years of Harry’s life, Virginia and the children accompanied Captain David on his clipper ship voyages, also spending time with grandparents in Maine and Connecticut between trips.  The trade routes at the time were mostly between New York and San Francisco going south around the Cape Horn of South America.

 

In the 1890’s the decision was made to settle the family in Brooklyn, New York mostly so that Harry could begin formal schooling.  The family eventually moved to a brownstone home on Garfield Street in Brooklyn in 1894, and New York became the home port for Harry’s father, Captain David A Scribner. 

As a young man, Harry attended the Brooklyn Polytechnic Institute where he studied to become an electrical engineer.  He worked for New York Telephone Company for 40 years, as a Vice President in his later years. 

Henry Dickinson Scribner married Theresa Eugenia Gordon in 1912.  They lived first in Brooklyn, and then in 1929 the family moved to a new home in Huntington, Long Island.  Harry & Jean had three children – two daughters, Virginia and Jeanne, and a son Robert.  The children were all born in Brooklyn, and later Long Island became home.

My dad told the story that his father would bring home and install another telephone whenever a new model was introduced that he liked.  He said that they probably had a dozen phones in their house, at least one in each room!  One day when my dad was looking at the above photo of their home, he pointed out that there were lots of telephone wires running to the house.  As a benefit of Harry’s employment, the Scribner family didn’t have to pay for phones or phone service.  Even long distance calls which were quite expensive were free for the family, and that benefit continued for many years after Harry’s death until his wife, Jean, also passed on.

Harry Scribner had many interests. He was very active with local scouting organizations.  And he enjoyed sailing, boat building and playing tennis, as well.  Harry even built a clay tennis court in the back of their home in Long Island.  

Harry was an avid photographer and was involved with both the Huntington and the Brooklyn Camera Clubs.  Several of his photos were even recognized at camera competitions, and at least one was accepted and hung in the Annual Exhibition at the Brooklyn Institute of Arts and Sciences in 1930.  Several of his photographic prints from that time have been kept in the family, I’ll share a few:

The son of a mariner, Harry always retained his love for the sea and frequently enjoyed sailing small boats and yachts.  My Dad remembers helping his father build 14-foot catboat in the cellar of the Long Island house when he was young.  According to my Dad, “It was built out of oak ribs and cypress planking, and believe me it was heavy. After it was built in one winter and caulked, we hoisted it out of the cellar by block and tackle.  We were lucky that our back door was opposite the cellar door so it was a straight shot outside after we had removed all the trim around the doors.  We almost had to grease it to get it through the doors.”  Harry shared his love for boating and the sea with all of his children, and they loved it as well.

Henry Dickinson Scribner died unexpectedly from a heart attack at 62 years of age when my Dad was only 19 years old.  Harry died before any of his 10 grandchildren were born, and I believe before he retired from New York Telephone.

*  *  *  *  *

Key Individuals:          

     Capt David Alba Scribner  (1840 – 1911)

     Virginia Augusta Hale Scribner  (1848 – 1940)

             Henry (Harry) Dickinson Scribner  (1880 – 1943)

             Theresa Eugenia Gordon Scribner  (1888 – 1970)

- Jane Scribner McCrary

An Artist in the Family

My last blog was about a somewhat recent time, that of my parents' generation, and included some of my memories when I was young.  I think I will stay with that time period for this blog post as well.

I was blessed with a diverse and loving extended family, however since we were a military family we never really lived near family members.  We mostly saw aunts, uncles & cousins on vacations and special visits.  My Aunt Jeanne, one of my father’s two older sisters, was quite talented and I would have loved living near her just to soak up some of her vitality and interest in art.  It seemed to me when I was young that she could do anything.

Jean Marie Scribner was born in Brooklyn in 1921.  She began spelling her name as Jeanne, however, as a young adult.  She grew up mostly in Huntington, Long Island and attended the New Jersey College for Women (later to become the Douglass Residential College - Rutgers University).  After college she worked for Good Housekeeping and later became an editor for the Ladies’ Home Journal of New York.  In 1949, Jeanne married Thomas Harrell Cashin and the family grew with the addition of their three boys.

With boys in the family to keep up with, it is no surprise that Jeanne was athletic.  I remember her as tall and very statuesque.  Family holidays were often spent swimming in the summer and skiing in the winter.  And Jeanne could usually be found on the tennis court year round.

I don’t know when Jeanne developed her interest in art, but she was always busy with crafts and projects.  In addition to her passion for watercolor painting, Jeanne also worked some with oil paint, and she also designed and created lovely silver jewelry.  I have found several stories in newspaper archives about art shows noting that Jeanne showed her watercolor paintings in the 1960’s and 1970’s.

Below, I will share some of the artwork that Jeanne Cashin created that presently belong to various members of the Cashin and Scribner families.  Included are paintings, a couple of her Christmas cards, and several of her silverwork pieces. 

 

Aunt Jeanne died in 1981 after a lengthy illness.  I wish I had had more time with her.

*  *  *  *  *

Key individuals:

        Jeanne Marie Scribner Cashin  (1921 – 1981)

        Thomas Harrell Cashin  (1922 – 2008)          

 

Notes: 

One of my memories of Aunt Jeanne was that during one of her visits to our home in New Mexico, she would occasionally pull out her knitting as a pastime.  And during that visit she took the time to teach me the basics of knitting.  Then after she went back to New York, I got a package from her with a lot of puffy pale yellow yarn and the knitting instructions to make a sweater.  And yes, I did make that sweater and was quite proud of myself, though I seldom wore it because I thought it made me look heavy at a time when Twiggy was the ideal! 

It seems that artistic talent might run hit-or-miss in our family.  Jeanne’s oldest son is quite talented with his ability to carve and sculpture in stone.  And one of my brothers also has an artistic talent and love for making silver jewelry. 

In recent years, I have begun to experiment with watercolor painting, and while not as talented as my Aunt Jeanne, I often wish that I could turn to her for help with that.  Inspired by her, I have borrowed Aunt Jeanne’s idea of incorporating her watercolor work each year in her Christmas cards.  And, I have enjoyed using my own watercolor art on our family Christmas cards for several years now.

 – Jane Scribner McCrary