Today is my Mom's birthday, so I thought I would share some photos of her childhood birthdays: And here is one of the birth announcements that my grandparents sent out when she was born:
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This is a photo of my maternal grandfather's family. His father (my great-grandfather), George Bellan (far left, seated) immigrated to America from Croatia in June 1893. He settled in Cleveland and five years later his wife, Ursula (far right, seated), made the journey. They had eight children, all born in the Cleveland area. They are, from oldest to youngest: Rudolph (tallest boy), Olga (tallest girl), George (right of Olga), John (seated, in dark suit), Edward (left of Ursula), Mary (short girl, standing), William (my grandpa, seated, in white suit), and Theresa (on Ursula's lap). I do not know the exact date of the photo, but I am estimating it at around late 1916 to early 1917 based on the sizes of the two youngest children. As far as I know, this is the only photo of the entire family in existence; John passed away in 1922 and Mary and Olga passed away in 1927 and 1928, respectively.
My maternal grandparents, William Bellan and Dina Licciardi were married on September 27, 1947 at Our Lady of Peace Catholic Church in Cleveland, Ohio. I am fortunate to have a nice collection of wedding photos from the event, some of which are posted below. Click on each photo to see a larger image. Getting Ready... Ceremony and Immediately Afterwards... Formal Pics... Reception: Euclid Ballroom at the Hotel Statler, Cleveland, Ohio
Dina's Childhood Doll Treasure Chest Thursday is a weekly blogging prompt from Geneabloggers in which we are encouraged to write about family heirlooms. I am looking forward to using this prompt every week or so to write my about ancestors' possessions AND to catalog those items of my own that I want my kids and grandkids to preserve for future generations. This week's post is about my maternal grandmother's childhood doll. She is currently sitting in a display cabinet in my mom's house, so, when we were visiting over Christmas, I took a few photos. Around the time my Grandma was preparing to sell her home and move in with us (mid-1990s), my Aunt Sharon took the doll to get cleaned and fixed up. The doll got a new dress and stockings, but she saved her original clothes and put them in a box (left pic below). In the box, Aunt Sharon also wrote down the doll's details (right pic below) - when Grandma got her, what she named her, and every address at which she "lived." I am so very thankful for these details; it makes this particular heirloom so much more personal than if we just had the doll itself. Grandma got the doll on her 10th birthday, which was 4 Sep 1924 and she called her either 'Doris' or 'Alice.' And, if I wanted to, I could now plot on a map every location in which Grandma lived during nearly her whole life. (For a geography nerd like me, that's pretty cool.)
Love this photo of my maternal grandparents, Dina Licciardi and Bill Bellan. They were newly engaged after having met at a USO function after WWII (They were both veterans.). Grandpa looks pretty happy, but Grandma looks kind of bored. My husband says it looks like Grandma is reluctantly holding Grandpa's hand - I'm generally not a fan of holding hands, especially in public - After seeing this photo, my husband says it must be genetic.
My grandparents were generally very social people. My grandmother loved having people over and entertaining; I'm sure they hosted many New Year's Eve parties of their own once they were married and had a home. When we were little, my brother and I would find those obnoxious old metal New Year's noisemakers in their basement and, of course, we'd drive everyone nuts with them. ©2012, copyright Emily Kowalski Schroeder ©2012, copyright Emily Kowalski Schroeder
Today is Pearl Harbor Remembrance Day. On December 7, 1941, Japanese forces attacked Hawaii's Pearl Harbor, essentially bringing the United States into World War II. My grandfather, William Bellan, fought on the Pacific Front in the War. He is pictured here along with other Cleveland, Ohio infantrymen from the 37th Division. It was published in the Cleveland Plain Dealer on April 10, 1944, with the caption: "Nineteen Clevelanders on Bougainville. Seasoned veterans of jungle fighting after nearly two years overseas, these 37th division infantrymen have fought for control of the Northern Solomons from New Georgia to Bougainville." I know that the Solomon Islands are somewhere in the vast Pacific, but I had to look up details about this military campaign because I don't remember learning about it. Bougainville Island is located in the South Pacific, not far from Papua New Guinea. Turns out that the Bougainville Campaign lasted almost two years, not ending until the Japanese surrendered in August 1945. The Japanese took it over in 1942, built several airfields and naval anchorages, and strategically it became very important in their quest to take the other Solomon Islands, as well as in disrupting crucial communication lines between the United States, Australia, and New Zealand.
For people of my generation, who are used to traveling pretty much anywhere we want with relative ease, it is difficult to imagine the thoughts of the servicemen and women who literally went halfway around the world to fight for our country. In a time before commercial air travel and interstate highways, average people of this generation rarely even traveled out of state, let alone to a different country or continent. The idea must have been, pardon the pun, foreign to them. But, they all had very specific jobs to accomplish, and I'm sure that the Armed Forces leadership didn't let them dwell too much on just how far away from home they really were. And I wonder how my grandfather's parents, who were immigrants from Croatia, felt about the possibility of one of their children becoming seriously injured or dying in a part of the world they had never heard of and one that was completely inaccessible to them. Probably not what they had in mind when they decided to come to America to live and raise a family. (My grandfather's mom passed away in April 1946; I'm not exactly sure when my grandfather returned from his service, but I do hope it was in time to see his mom before she died.) Today's lesson: You may find yourself WANTING to learn about moments in U.S. history if you know that one of your ancestors played an active part in shaping it. ©2012, copyright Emily Kowalski Schroeder Today, in honor of Veteran's Day, I am posting a photo of the flag that covered my grandmother's casket during her funeral. I'll explain why it's in my kitchen later... My grandmother, Dina Licciardi Bellan, was a member of the U.S. Coast Guard SPARS (Women's Reserve) during WWII. At some point, I plan on doing a more detailed blog post with photos about her time with the service, but for now I'll just say that she served most of her time in Miami, FL and that she made some very good friends with whom she kept in contact for most of her life. Here she is in Miami in September of 1945: So, Grandma's funeral was on a cold, cold January day during my senior year of high school. It was on a weekday - the first day of school I had missed since freshman year. I read one of the readings during mass. We went back to the funeral home and got ready to go to the cemetery. I drove my three younger brothers, while my little sister got to ride in the limo with my parents and aunt and uncle. (To this day, I have still never ridden in a limousine.) The cemetery plot was familiar; my grandfather had passed away eight years earlier. I remember standing there and being very cold while the prayers were read. (I wore a dark navy suit with a short skirt - not my brightest decision.) I was handed her flag and told that my grandmother had wanted me to have it, which didn't come as a huge surprise because my grandfather's flag had gone to my older cousin, and I was the second-oldest. I still felt honored to have it. I took it with me to college and graduate school, and it has always symbolized my grandmother's presence.
So, why is the flag in my kitchen? Grandma was a pretty darn good cook, and she LIKED cooking for her loved ones. I am not a good cook, and I do not enjoy being in the kitchen. On those days when I really don't feel like making dinner (pretty much everyday), I can always look at the flag and remember how much she enjoyed it. Sometimes it motivates me; sometimes it doesn't. And I'm always secretly hoping that some divine intervention on her part will make me a better cook. At least I was blessed with a husband who will pretty much eat anything. :-) ©2012, copyright Emily Kowalski Schroeder If you are Catholic, you probably know that today, November 1, is All Saints' Day. On this day, we celebrate and remember all of those souls who reside with God in Heaven. Usually, when we think of saints, we think of those who have been formally canonized by the Vatican because they lived exceptionally pure, kind, and compassionate lives and because miracles happened as a result of their intercession. What is intercession? There are plenty of reasons why I don't like Catholicism, but one of the reasons I DO like it is because of what the Church teaches about saints and intercession. We can ask the saints to pray to God for us; they can intercede on our behalf. Yes, we can also pray directly to God ourselves, but we believe that when a soul is so incredibly close to God in ways that really can't be understood from an earthly perspective, that God will indeed have mercy and grant what is requested. Catholics also believe that a soul does not have to be canonized to be a 'saint.' ALL souls in Heaven are referred to as saints. So, that means that each of us has ancestors who are saints and whose lives we can remember and celebrate on this day. AND it means that we each have people who we can ask to pray for us. I did this the other day; my leg was hurting pretty badly and I asked my grandma to pray for me. Yes, I suppose I am just assuming that she is in Heaven; I don't really know for sure. (If she didn't make it to Heaven, I have no chance!) Usually when I try to pray to a canonized saint, I'm always left with the impression of "Well, did they hear me? Did I get through amist everyone elses' requests?" But when I ask a loved one to pray for me, I'm SURE that he/she heard me and DID pray for me. And I am comforted by the fact that they can still be a part of my life even if they aren't here with me now. My Grandmother among the saints: So, I am grateful for the Feast of All Saints, and I am thinking of today as MY Saints' Day, a day when I can remember people in MY life who have passed on, who are hopefully with God in Heaven, and who will pray for me whenever I need it.
©2012, copyright Emily Kowalski Schroeder Like many of you fellow genealogists probably know, when you keep going further and further back through the generations, information pertaining to any particular person you may be researching gets more and more scarce. And, at some point, your family's history becomes more of just an impersonal paper trail of birth, marriage, and death records. You long to find something more personal, a photo or a journal, just to get a glimpse of what that person looked like or what the nature of his/her personality was. You say to yourself, "If only they had saved more..." I think about this question of "What to save?" a lot, because, just by my innate interest in family history and perserving memories, I have become the keeper of my family's memories. I am the photographer and the saver of momentos. I save receipts and ticket stubs from family vacations. I take photos of local signs and the places where we stay and eat along the way. I take extra brochures and business cards from tourist spots, so I can cut them up and include them in my scrapbooks. I understand that some people would see that as going a little overboard, but wouldn't you just LOVE it if your grandparents or great-grandparents had done that along the way? My grandmother was somewhat like me, because she DID keep a receipt that meant a lot to her and we just recently found it in some of her old stuff: This is my grandparents' reservation receipt for their honeymoon. From a genealogical perspective, it's not all that valuable - it lists their names and city of residence, but that's it. The sentimental value is much higher, of course. This piece of paper represents the start of their life together - just the two of them. Due to my great-grandfather's social and business standings in the Italian-American community, my grandmother had a large and ostentatious wedding and reception, probably much against her wishes. I can almost hear her breathe a sigh of relief when she and my grandfather arrived at this little inn in rural Indiana. Nobody they knew or had to talk to, no place they had to be - just a week of relaxation and spending time with each other.
So, if you are a saver like me, I say, "Keep on saving!" My great-grandchildren will have all these digital photos and probably a bunch of government documents about me, but it's the little, seemingly mundane stuff like receipts, ticket stubs, recipes, etc. that will help them know what I valued and what was special to me. ©2012, copyright Emily Kowalski Schroeder |
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