Wednesday, October 31, 2007

Early Childhood B



One day I was walking in the kitchen and banged my head. I had been in the habit of walking right under the kitchen table, but this time I banged my head! I was growing. But this small body could see things others couldn't. I asked my dad "How come the paint stops at the edge, and it's not painted underneath?" He said "Because no one can see it." But I could see it.


Grandpa Blankenburg once had come down to visit. He was standing by the front door. I walked up to him and noticed the veins on his hands were protruding slightly, and I felt of them and asked why. He and my dad just laughed and said, you just wait, and some day yours will be just like that. Well, the day has come, in fact quite some time ago.

Grandpa Blankenburg would often take the trolly from Rockville down to Ogden's Corner, then walk the better part of a mile to our house. One day I went with him up to his tobacco shed on the front Penny lot. (A tract he had bought from the Pennys, and before he sold it to my parents). There they were measuring out fertilizer, and Grandma was doing the calculations. They were bagging it as they were weighing it. The Mazon brothers were growing the tobacco on shares, and the Blankenburgs were providing all the capital. Well, on the way back, we went past a patch where Grandpa had planted watermellons. One looked ripe, so he picked it, and then got out his jack knife, opened it, and plunged in into the ground a few times. I asked why. He said, to clean it. It was the first I knew you could clean a knife by dirt.

Before the years of school began, I had just two friends on a regular basis, Irene Worcester, and Charlie Thrall. I had an extra "kiddy car", so when Charlie came over to play, we would ride up and down the front walk (those flagstones inhabited underneath by ants). The Thralls and the Worcesters both had "running water", i.e. with inside plumbing, but we didn't. Thrall's was obtained from an artesian well atop a hill the other side of the state highway, and it ran by itself with no pumping required. Worcesters, however, was pumped by a little gasoline powered pump. Neither family had electricity yet. Thralls were close to it, but couldn't afford it. Worcesters were quite far from the state highway power line, and we were much further away.

In the springtime our road would get tremendous ruts in it, being so muddy. In the early springtime we would tap all the maple trees and my mother would use the kerosene stove to boil it all down to get maple syrup. The depression came about the time I was old enough to start school.

Time's up for now.

Early Childhood A

The Blankenburg children (now grown) left a lot behind on the farm, including children's ski's, snowshoes, and when older, trunks in the barn, even a one-horse open sleigh up there in the barn. The main section of the barn was also built with hand-hewn beams, and in one area of the barn, with bad flooring, were scycles to harvest wheat in a bygone era prior to International Harvesters products. Up there in the loft also was an old Edison wax cylinder phonograph with a bunch of cylinders to play. We never ever did take the sleigh down and hitch it up to a horse and go. Eithe too much bother, or maybe it needed repair. But I once did get to ride in a neighbor's sleigh. One cold week-day morning, Mr. Natziski and his son Joe stopped out front of our house, and gave me a ride to school in their one-horse open sleigh.

In my pre-school years one of my favorite occupations was to feed sugar to the ants that lived between the flagstones of the front walk that connected our front porch with the road out front. I would spent hours just watching them work. My buddies. Then horror of horrors, my mother would come with a broom and sweep them away with all their sand, sugar and all! To my mind this was cruel and unusual punnishment, but heartless people that they were, they just laughed, saying, oh, they will build it all up again (the sand piled up by the ants around each ant hole).

Another fun thing was roosters. In those days my dad bought baby chicks unsorted by sex, so for a while they were 50 - 50. Then later he would leave a few, but sell most as "broilers". The remaining ones always tried to out-do each other in crowing. I joined in to "egg them on".

Early Childhood








Prior to the move from Tolland, one day my Uncle Bill Neill came over with his camera, set up a ladder, and got me to step up on it. Then he asked me to go up on a higher rung, and took my picture. I remember it distinctly, and here is the photo.












In those days, people liked to give names to their places. So our place in Tolland was called "Hollyhock Hill". In Tolland, we became good friends with our neighbors, various Clough families, all yankees (original English). One family was there only summers, as he was a teacher somewhere on Long Island. Their daughter Doris became great friends with my sister Barbara, and would often visit us long after we moved to Vernon.

Here are a couple of photos of us on the farm in Vernon during the haying season. Doris Clough and Barbara are up on the load of hay. Standing, left to right is our hired man Bill Hulse, then my Dad, then Grandpa Blankenburg holding my hand.














Here is a picture of the load of hay taken into the barn. On the left is Grandpa Blankenburg, then Doris Clough, me, and then Barbara.













One Clough family I remember visiting after we moved to Vernon were a couple probably in their 90's, and he had a white beard. They had a big grandfather clock, and the place was loaded with knick-knacks. He first heard of President Lincoln being shot by reading it in the newspaper. Other Cloughs, closer neighbors to us in Tolland had a typical yankee characteristic that slightly irritated my dad. They always wanted to know how much you paid for something, but would never tell you what they paid for something. Once my dad, who had always told them when asked, what he paid for something, asked point blank "How much did you pay for this?" Clough just laughed, and said "Oh, I'll tell you sometime, Tom."

Then there were the Emery Cloughs who lived on a hill, had a peach orchard, a son and a daughter. From Vernon, once we went over there and bought from them a peach basket full of peaches, which is 1/2 bushel. In high school the son was known as "Clutch Clough", and he died of a nose infection. The daughter, I think not quite out of high school, ran off with a man in his 40's.

The year 1927 when we moved to the old Blankenburg farm in Vernon, was during the height of a brief period of prosperity. My dad took over the farm, and my Blankenburg grandparents moved to an apartment in Rockville, where they enjoyed the modern comforts of indoor plumbing and electric lights. Some of the same animals my Uncle Arnold was familiar with, I was also, when we discussed it years later in Kansas. There was the old Holstein cow, "Crooked Face", who had been kicked by a horse when a calf.
There were the two horses, "Prince" and "Jerry", shown in the photo here, taken in Jan 1930 with me feeding them. There were the two cats, "Ougen" (German for "eyes"), and "Loungey" (short for lounge lizard).



My Dad had somwhat different ideas than my Grandpa Blankenburg. Blankenburgs had pigs. My dad wanted nothing to do with them. Grandpa Blankenburg once said, "Every fool has a dog, and every damn fool has two dogs." We got "Fido", a little terrier.









Here is a picture of our family, newly moved to the farmhouse in Vernon, all together, with my Dad holding "Fido". Then is my sister Barbara, and Mother, with me standing in front.




Did you know that dogs are liars? Fido was. There was a rocking chair he was NOT allowed to sit on. One winter morning, dad got up, came down stairs with the kerosene lamp, came into the dining room where the rocker was. It was rocking, but Fido was "sound asleep", curled up in a corner.

So I grew up the same place my mother did. She would tell me of things relating to the place when she was a little girl. There was "Old Dan Janes", who lived up the hill where the Newmarkers now lived. He would drop down and tell of bygone days when there was a terrible drought, and farmers would come from miles around to water their livestock from our well in the backyard of our house.




Here is a picture of our farm in the 1930's, with the camera facing east. Note the tall Norway spruce tree that I used for mounting my antenna. The little white building on the right is the milk house Dad built. The long building on the left is for chickens, with a grain room in the middle.



Our place was full of history. The farm apparently originally had been the location of at least 3 houses and a blacksmith shop. The blacksmith shop had been located about 1,000 feet north of Dart Hill Road, on the left side of Skinner Road. One house had been located on the same side of that road, about 1/4 mile further north. The cellar hole was still there, as was the well (but covered over with a large rock). We used to go up there and pick currents from the current bushes surrounding the cellar hole. Then my mother made current jam.

The other former house location was on the south side of Dart Hill Road, lining up directly with Skinner Road. It also had a cellar hole and a well. I believe the Blankenburgs built a "rooster house" on it, because that's how it was while I was growing up. We kept roosters there. Years later, our former hired man, John Booth and his wife build a nice house there.

We had a wood stove in the kitchen, and in the summer also used a kerosene range. It was my job to split wood, and bring it in to fill the wood box behind the stove. On the front of the stove were the words "Beacon Hub", and "Ebony Finish". Saturday night was bath night. You got out the big wash tub, took a dipper and from the hot water reservoir attached to the kitchen stove, you dipped out hot water to fill the tub. Maybe you also used auxiliary supplies of hot water from pots and pans on top of the stove. Then you would put a big container in the sink under the pump spout, and pump up sufficient cold water to add, if need be. One night per week was enough of that business.

Christmas would be with Grandpa and Grandma Blankenburg in Rockville, with all our aunts and uncles. Thanksgiving would be at Grandma Neill's, where also lived Uncle Bill, Uncle Dave, and Uncle Joe.

I must go and take care of other things now. But I have vast quanitites of things to tell.

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Beginnings Cont'd D

Continuing with my Dad, Thomas J. Neill (I). At least since the time Dad was at the Worlds Fair in St. Louis in 1902, their family lived at 51 Franklin Street, Rockville, Ct. The place is still there and has been restored to its original condition. I used to have a lot of envelopes of Dad's letters home from St. Louis.


While growing up, we used to have an atlas with a map of the United States, and on it in pen, my Dad had inked his 5-year (approximately) odyssy around the country, primarily as a commercial artist.
Here is a sample of his work at that period.
To back up a bit, just as an interesting asside, a classmate of his at the Lockwood Art Studio in Duluth, was Gifford Baker from Toronto. Now you know the rest of THAT particular story! I remember that the Bakers came down to Connecticut and visited us once. My Dad was in communication with them as late as when we all lived in East Hartland, CT. But they ultimately all died off with no descendants.

I believe Dad's travels began more or less in NYC. But times were not good. He told me that some places there, there were signs of help wanted, but along with that was the notation "No Irish need apply". Dad took a steamship from NYC down to Savannah, GA, and I think went from there to Atlanta. I believe he was a commercial artist in NYC, then in Atlanta. While in Georgia, he teamed up with another fellow from the North. (Remember, it was not that long after the Civil War, and Northerners were not always that welcome). But his buddy must have liked to live dangerously, and as they were walking through a certain section, he began to whistle the tune of the march called "Marching Through Georgia". But nothing happened. Maybe the local people were not familiar with the tune.

In another incident in Georgia, my dad was all alone in a semi-wilderness area going across a long railroad tressle (you could step off it if a train came). In the distance two black men were approaching from the other direction. When they came closer, in order to protect himself, Dad put his finger in his coat pocket to make like a gun, and kept walking forward. The two black men stepped to one side and he passed.

From Atlanta he may have gone to New Orleans, and from there (for sure), he was in Dallas for a while. He mentioned that in Dallas at night you would always hear a lot of gun shots.

Let me regress a bit. Back when Dad went out to the wheat fields in the Dakotas, his buddy Ed Siedel wanted to go with him, and they would hop a freight. Dad said "Nothing doing". He bought a train ticket, and never ever hopped a freight.

Times were usually pretty bad, like a continuous depression, and it was not easy to get work as a commercial artist. Also, he was not able to crank out the work as fast as they would like, so sometimes he had to take other jobs that might be available.

I guess from Dallas dad may have gone directly to Los Angeles. And from there to San Francisco, and from there to Seattle. He may have then gone back down to southern California, because in 1915 he had a night watchman job at a garage in Santa Monica, CA. I don't know his exact 5 or so year itinerary. Maybe he went from Seattle to Chicago, and from there to Kalamazoo, MI. At one time I had a calling card of his saying Thos. J. Neill, Commercial Artist, with a Kalamazoo address. I thought I gave it to my son Tom.

My mother I believe was the one who initiated things between them. Probably she was attracted to him when he worked on their farm years earlier. But I have no doubt Blankenburg family-wise there would have been two strikes against him. One: hired hands were to be looked down upon, and Two, he was Irish. He didn't come from a "successful" family for obvious reasons - his dad died 5 years after my dad was born, and his mom had to raise 4 boys all alone, but with help I'm sure from relatives.

I remember reading one letter she wrote to him, when he was out West, referring to a time when he was working on the Blankenburg farm. It was rather touching. I have a more subsequent letter from her to him when he must have still been "out west". I have a photo copy of it. It is about 4 pages long in which she finnaly says "I love you".









Here is a photo of the two of them prior to their marriage, sitting together on a flat stone wall.

















Here is a picture of of Dad's home family in 1907: Back row, Left to Right, Alec Johnson (probably a cousin), then Uncle Joe, who looks quite young, and kind of a "hot sketch", ready for anything. Next is Dad who looks distinguished with his hat, then Bob Johnson (probablyanother cousin), and at the far right, rear is Uncle Dave. In the front row, Agnes Johnson (cousin?), then Mrs. Rock and then, third from left, front row is my Grandma Neill. The last at the lower right is Mrs. Johnson, maybe holding John Johnson. Uncle Bill is missing from the photo. Maybe that is when he was in NYC studying electricity.




Here is a photo of Dad as a young man sitting on a lawn with an Irish setter dog - maybe uncle Bills hunting dog, if he had one, I don't know.













Anyway, Dad was not able to make a living for two as a commercial artist. As my dad put it, "We couldn't afford to get married, so we got married anyway." They got an apartment in West Hartford, and my Dad went to work at the Royal Typewrter factory in Hartford. My sister Barbara was born when they lived there. He used to run to catch the trolly to get to work, and the trolly was jam full, and with stale air. When this happened he developed chest pains. Oh, I should have mentioned that Dad was a "health nut", and didn't believe much in doctors. Once in San Francisco he developed severe pains where he appendix was. He stopped eating for 3 days and cured it. On another time on a long train trip his head hurt. He believes this is what people call headache. It was his only experience of this. He was a follower of the well-known natural health man, Bernar McFadden, who made a parachute jump into the Hudson River in his 80's.

Pardon my digression. Chest pains of my Dad. He determined to do something about it. Did he rush to a doctor? Of course not. He searched and found a little house in Tolland, CT, out in the country, with almost no land with it, but just enough to raise laying hens. Mother stayed in the apartment, went back to work as a school teacher, and they hired a baby sitter for Barbara. Dad got a Model T Ford, and began an egg route, and at the same time worked as a janitor at the bank in Tolland. After about 6 months apart, mother was able to quit her job and join him in Tolland. When my dad had tahe egg route, one time a little dog ran out and bit him in the leg. The lady said "Don't be afraid, he doesn't bite much". My dad said, "She was right, he didn't bite much". But he did bite!

My Dad had a philosophy of his own. He had no use for big cities. Once I asked him, "Would you like to come along with us to NYC for the day? It's been many years since you were there." His response was in the negative. All big cities were alike, and he wouldn't give two cents for a look at any one of them. Another quote of his: "These big executives know how to make a lot of money, but they don't know how to live."

While Mother and Dad and Barbara were living in Tolland, I was born in 1924 at the Rockville Hospital. Some years prior, apparently there had been a mis-carriage, so they were taking no chances, and I was born in the hospital. That building, if it still stands, is no longer a hospital; it overlooked East Distirict School.

My Grandpa Blankenburg had done very well on their farm, and especially so during WWI, when prices went sky-high. So they were able to retire in 1927, and sold the farm, or the main part of it, to my mother and father. I remember our move there. Sometime around that time, my sister later confessed to me, she dropped me on my head, landing behind my right ear. I don't know if she ever confessed to our parents or not. Anyway, after some time it created a horrendus, and extremely painful infection for which pennecilin had not yet been discovered.

I was taken to Dr Dwire in Manchester, and they put me in the hospital there and operated, removing a section of bone to get at the mastoid. I still have a big scar there, and section of bone missing. I remember Dr. Dwire gave me a peppermint stick candy, and also on another visit put me under ether. (Remember, I was 3).

Now I must refer you to my sister Barbara's story (which I illustrated with photos) of her growing up on the farm in Connecticut.

Well, it's getting late now, so I guess I'll quit and get ready for bed.

Beginnings Cont'd C






In the middle or late 1930's, aunt Esther Blankenburg took a freighter trip to Cuba. There she bought a box of guava paste. The box was of wood, about 2" x 3" x 12". In the middle, running the length of the paste was a section of guava jelly, about 12/" x 1/4". She sent it to me and it was delicious! On the box was the name & address of the source in Cuba, so I wrote them a letter of appreciation to which they responed "con mucho gusto".

My uncle Charlie Blankenburg was the next one born. In those days, boys were required by state law to work at home on the farm until they were 18. But I found out from uncle Arnold in Kansas that Charlie ran away from home prior to age 18, and went to work for a farmer in Maine. Arnold asked me why Charlie ran away from home, but I didn't even know that he had done that, it was the first I had heard of it. I think he laater went to business college. After he was established, he became Sales Manager of the woolen (?) mill in Talcotville. He married Mae McCallum and they and her brother Charlie McCallum lived in a nice house owned by the mill in Talcotville. Uncle Charlie used to come up to our house (the farm house at Skinner Rd & Dart Hill Rd in Vernon) and play checkers with my Dad.

Here is a photo presumably of uncle Charlie Blankenburg as a young man watering a team of horses. In the background you can see a two-story building that had been used to house the hired help. I also have a photo of him with Mae McCallum standing in the middle of Dart Hill Road (a dirt road), and in the background are cows in the pasture and a few chickens. I also have a short movie clip of him with his wife Mae, and later after she passed away, another clip of him with his second wife Eve, whom he met on Price Edward Island in Canada.

Next born was my aunt Florence. She died early from breast cancer. She went to business school and became an accountant. That is probably how she met her husband, my uncle Irving Dodge. He was the owner of C. N. Dodge grocery store on Main Street in Hartford, CT. It was a "high end" grocery. They lived in a fancy neighborhood in maybe Windsor, across from the Pratt's (proabably of Pratt & Whitney). when we visited with aunt Florence and Uncle Irving, I used to play with Aaron Pratt. Irving and Florence had a cottage down at the sea shore, and they had my sister and I come with them one week. We were very poor, but I didn't know it. Irving and Florence used to mail me the "Funnies" from the Sunday paper every week.

Aunt Florence had her own car, a 2-door coupe, and used to come over to visit us. I remember she used to call my mother "Em". Later, when Aunt Florence passed away, Uncle Irving used to come over on Sunday afternoons and take us all on very long rides through the country. He also was attracted to my Aunt Cora, but nothing came of it; I think he liked her better than she liked him. He later married a close friend of Cora and Florences, Louise Rau. When I was born, she sent us a congratulations card which I still have.

Next born was my aunt Cora Hattie Blankenburg. She hated her middle name and changed it to Harriet. She went to Port Chester, NY, and with training became a Registered Nurse. She was very pretty, and I should have pictures of her. I believe at one time she worked in the same hospital as Dr. Hepburn, father of the movie star Katherine Hepburn. Dr. Hepburn had a terrible temper, and was known to have thrown things at the nurses. After my parents got the Blankenburg farm, sometimes Aunt Cora used to come over, go up to the hayloft where her trunk was stored, read old letters, come back down and you could tell she had been crying. She married very very late in life. Her intention was to wait until my mother passed away and then marry my Dad, but it never happened. My Mother was still alive, and went to Cora's wedding to Jim Moraio, who was a widower, and I believe a commercial greenhouse flower grower. I visited them once, stayed for dinner and stayed over night, while working as a consultant for Regent Controls in Stamford, CT, not so terribly far from Rye, NY.

Next in 1901 came my Uncle Fred Blankenburg. He was quite ambitious and wanted to do everything for his Mom. I think I have a photo of him as a young boy with a long stick, fishing in Bolton Pond. My parents bought the Blankenburg farm in 1927. In the 1920's there was no electricity within nearly a mile of the place. But Uncle Fred got some second-hand Edison batteries, a D.C. generator, and an old Model T Ford engine, and created a 32 volt d.c. source for the place, wiring up the kitchen, dining room, and the barn. The lights were not so very bright, but they worked, except when the batteries were down and had to be re-charged. They even had a Hinnman milking machine for the barn. But it didn't work all that wonderfully either. while I was growing up, the batteries were about at the end of their life and we had no money to replace them, so we reverted to kerosine lamps.

Uncle Fred was very mechanically oriented, and was always working with his brother Arnold on cars and other things. They strung a big, long antenna from the Norway spruce tree way over to the top of the big maple tree on Skinner Road, and did short wave sending and receiving via Morse code. I have a photo of Fred sitting next to his Mom in an open Model T car. She is sitting behind the steering wheel (as a joke, because she never drove). Fred worked for Socony Vacuum in Hartford as a mechanic. Fred was always very frugal and never threw anything of any value away. He collected things. He once married a divorcee with children. But the marriage only lasted partway through the honeymoon to Florida. I never heard the details.

Last to be born was Uncle Arnold. Here is a photo of him as a little boy playing in the sand pile in the back yard just outside the kitchen window. In the background are posts where we put the milk pails, and you can see the pump on the well, and further in the background is the barn. It is nearly identical to where I used to play at the same age. Unlike Fred, Arnold liked to "dress up" and look real fine. I believe he was, as it were, a "lady's man". When I was little, Fred and / or Arnold used to go "out west" for fairly long periods. Eventually, Arnold settled in Herndon, Kansas and married my Aunt Edna. Later they moved to Oakley, and he established "Blankenburg Chevrolet", and was a very successful business man. He was able to sell the business and retire quite comfortably. They had two daughters, Judith and Lila. Both died before their parents. Judith never married, but died in Backsburg, VA, teaching at, I believe, the university there, and working on a Doctor's degree. Lila did marry, but they had no children except two adopted ones in Texas. Arnold and Edna, with kids, visited us after the 1938 hurricane, and helped up with the restorations.

Years later, on occasion we (my wife and our kids) would visit Arnold and Edna in Kansas. Also, once, Arnold took a trip around the world on a Dutch liner, by himself because Edna didn't want to go. They called at Tahiti, and many other exotic places. He got off the ship on the east coast of Australia, took the trans-continental railway, and caught the ship again on the west coast at Perth. My attic is full of 5,000 of his slides, covering maybe 15 or 20 years. What shall I do with them?

Well, let's move on to my Dad. As a boy, he and his family at least once rode trolly cars and went to Nantasket beach in Boston. He remembered seeing sailing vessel gradually disappear over the horizon there. He went through 8th grade, and then had to go to work to help support the family by working in the woolen mill. He told me once that the teacher wanted to teach them music, but none of the kids were interested. She said "You will be sorry". Later, yes, he was sorry. As a young man he first left home and went to upper New York state apple-picking. Then later still, he went to the wheat fields of North Dakota for work on the harvest. There he got a wheat chaff in his eye that caused him considerable trouble for some days until it finally came out. His biggest first main experience was when he went to St. Louis during the World's Fair in 1904, and worked as a bell hop at the Christian Endeavor Hotel there for 6 months. It gave him time to take in the whole fair in detail. One impressive exhibit was a full-sized locomotive going at full speed on an endless track. Another exhibit was a man in one room writing with an electrical instrument connected by wire to another instrument in another room, reproducing the same writing.

One story of his bell hop experience: A lady came with a complaint that her room light didn't work. She turned on the thing, but nothing happened. (It was a gas light). He told her, "You have to use a match!"

Some time later my Dad went to art school in NYC, and later also the Lockwood Art School in Duluth, MN.

Time to quit, I need to go somewhere with my wife Lydia.

Monday, October 29, 2007

Beginnings Cont'd, B

Lets go to the Neill side of the family. James Lisk married somebody and they produced John Lisk, who married Sarah Ann Herron. They produced William Lisk, his brother John Henry, and sisters Ellen who married a Russel, Lanna who married a Beyans, Rachel who married a Cinnamon, Matilda who married a Rock, Eliza Ann who married a Russel, Sallie who married a Hall, Margaret who married a Johnson, and Isabel who married a McCabe.

The above William Lisk (my great grandpa), married Sarah Johnston in the Drum Kree church in 1848, in Portadown, Armagh County, northern Ireland. She had a brother named John Johnston. Wm & Sarah Lisk produced my grandma Neill in 1855 who died Feb. 2, 1937 in Rockville, CT. But they also populated Rockville, CT with vast quantities of Lisks (& others), as John Lisk who produced Benjamin & William, Frank who produced Wm, Jas, Jn, Sam'l, Fred, Lilly, Sarah, & Paul; Samuel who was a bachelor; James who produced Wm., Jas., Stewart; Matilda who married Thos. Lutton, and they produced "the Lutton Girls" Sarah & Annie (Lilly) plus Thos. & Wm.; Elizabeth who married Edw. Quinn, and they produced Julia, Edw. & Iola; Thomas who produced Pearl, Lorenzo, Eugene, and Warren; George who produced Linie, Charlie, Henry, Harold, Naomi, Florence, and Anita. My grandma Neill (Sarah Lisk Neill) came to the US with her large family at about age 16 in a sailing vessel. She had blue eyes and a very strong Irish accent. She was a very strong believer, but I think maybe the only one in her family.

One of "the Lutton Girls", Sarah or Lil, had gall bladder trouble and went to the hospital. The doctor wanted to remove the gall bladder. She asked "Why?" He said "Because it is not functioning." She said, "Well, if you remove it, it still won't function, will it. Get me my clothes, I'm going home!" Later in life only one of them had a drivers license, but she was virtually blind. So they always travelled together, and the one who could see told the driver where to steer. Don't believe the girls ever married. The Luttons had a bottling works, and also owned the Silver Dollar Tavern in Rockville. In Rockville High School, my English teacher, Natalie Ide was related to me, as were three of my classmates, Wilton Lisk, Eleanor Lisk, and Donald Neff.

Let's go back to the Neill side of the family (rather than the Lisk side of the Neill family). To the best of my knowledge, Patrick Niel married Mary Forscythe, and they produced my grandpa Neill and at least his brother. My grandpa Neill (Joseph Niel / Neil) was born in 1845, and died Sep 15, 1887, buried in Aspen Grove Cemetary, Ware, MA, now under Quabbin Reservoir (but the cemetary was removed to dry ground somewhere, I saw it once).

My grandpa Neill (Joseph Niel / Neil)and his brother came from County Kildare in what is now the Irish Republic, and went to Iowa and took up land. They both married and had a dairy farm together. But my grandpa's wife died having a baby, so he abandoned his half of the farm, and went east to Massachusetts, and married my grandma, Sarah A. Lisk. He never shaved in his life, and his beard was as soft as the hair on your head. There used to exist a nice photo of him. He died at an early age, after waisting away for about one year, believed by my Dad to be tuberculosis. They lived in Gilbertville, MA (now under the reservoir), and also in Manchester, CT. When he died my grandma had 4 boys and moved to Rockville, probably to be close to her parents and relatives. The census of 1880 shows: Joseph Neil, age 40, occupation Weaver, parents birthplace, Ireland. Wife Sally Neil, age 32, occupation housewife, parents birhplace, Ireland, Daughter Nellie Neil, age 1, parents birthplace, Ireland. It is probably them, though Joseph Neil's age isn't right. I believe their only daughter died shortly therefafter.

My grandparents, Joseph Neil and Sarah Lisk produced 4 boys: William (bachelor) b. 1880, d. Jun 9, 1952 in Rockville CT, Thomas James (my dad) b. Feb 15, 1882 in Manchester, CT, d. Mar 16, 1973 in Tenafly NJ, David Alexander(bachelor) b. April 10, 1885, d. Mar. 22, 1971 in NJ., and Joseph Samuel, b. 1888 in Gilbertville, MA, d. Mar 17, 1965 in St. Petersburg, FL. He had married Pearl Pease, but they married late in life and had no children.

When my uncle Bill (William Neill, above, who was the oldest) started school, he came home and told his dad that the teacher said we weren't spelling our family name correctly, and it should be with two L's, not one. His dad told him, "I don't care, spell it any way you want." When uncle Bill was grown, he went to New York and studied electricity, but never did much with it He stayed home and took care of his Mom, who became blind from cataracts; later after she died, he stayed home and did the housekeeping while his brother Dave worked in the mill. My uncle Joe was a sergant in WWI, and went to France, but was behind the lines training troops.

My dad, Thomas James Neill, hated working in the woolen mill, and got out of there as soon as he could, working instead on various farms, etc. He worked for Fred Dart, who used to have a farm as you go west on Dart Hill Road in Vernon, and up the hill to where it levels out. He was one of the "hired men". They ate with the family. Once Mrs. Dart made some green tomatoe pie. She asked how it was. My dad said "Fine", so as not to hurt her feelings. The hired hand next to him immediately said, "Here Tom, you can have mine." Fred Dart needed a bigger house, so he raised his house on jacks and built another story under it. This was before the days of gas engines and electricity being available there on the farm.

But my dad spent a lot more time working as a "hired hand" on the Blankenburg farm. He had lots of stories about what it was like. The Blankenburgs had 7 children, but only 3 were boys, who probably were still too young to do much work. So there were hired men. Here are some random stories. Once in a while my grandma Blankenburg would get help from a neighbor lady to help with the washing of clothes (a big deal in those days, all done by hand). Thus the noon meal (the biggest meal, "dinner" in those days), was late. Mr. Blankenburg would come in from work with the hired men, find out the situation, and say, in a provoked tone "The wash is on!"

Another time, Mr. Blankenburg was across the road in the pasture trying to coax a horse so he could catch and harness him to take a load of produce up to Rockville to sell. All the Bankenburg children were just looking out the window watching him and laughing at him. None offered to help.

When my uncle Arnold (the youngest) was a tiny tot, planing in the sand pile outside the kitchen window (right where I played 20 years later), his brother Fred had caught an earthworm, took it over to his little brother, held it up to him and said "Essen", which is "eat" in German. I told this story to my Uncle Arnold in Kansas when he was an old man. He asked "Did I eat it?", but their Mom rapped on the kitchen window and stopped the shennanigans.

Another story: A close friend of the family had graduated from Renssalier Polytechnic Institute, in New York State, majoring in electrical engineering. But he contracted tuberculosis, and was dying. Late in the stage, he got someone to take him by horse and buggy to visit the Blankenburg family, but when he got there, he was quite weak, and just stayed sitting in the buggy to visit a bit. My aunt Esther came out to visit with him, and she said "Oh, how well you look!" But then Mr. Blankenburg came along and said right there to Esther "What are you lying to the man for!"

Mrs. Blankenburg (my grandma) saved up money and had a lead pipe put in, running from the well to a hand pump at the kitchen sink. It is also what we used when I was growing up.

The Blankenburg children were all quite bright. They all loved their mom, but you could not say they were all that "close" to their dad, especially the boys. My mother Emma was the oldest. She graduated from New Britain Normal School, in the standard college training of that time for teachers. Then she taught school for quite a number of years prior to marrying at age 30. Later in life she resumed teaching during WWII while I was in the Navy.

My aunt Esther was rather unusual. She was always full of stories, but I can't vouch for the accuracy of them all. She claimed that we were related to Benedict Arnold. I'd like to check out his ancestry some time to see if it is true. She used to go on cheap vacations by getting a state room on a 'banana boat" fruit freighter, and go to countries in the Carribean. She once borrowed $4,000 from her dad and formed an opera company, and put on an opera in Waterbury, CT, hiring famous singers such as Rosa Ponsell, etc. But the venture went broke and she lost all the money. I believe she attended a well-known college in Ohio for a year or two before she ran out of money. Later, when she settled in Providence, she attended art classes at Brown. I had one excellent oil painting of hers, an ocean view. She lived with my great aunt Louise Blankenburg in Providence in the governers former mansion, while my great aunt's health was in decline. Later she had her own apartment in Providence, and corresponded with cousin Ellis Arnold in Los Angeles, and also was "buddies" with Esther Hinderlighter. The two Esthers considered themselves "family outcasts" . She became a Christian Science member, but I went to visit her once, she wasn't home (she had been taken to a nursing home with a stroke but I didn't know it). Her landlady said that aunt Esther and another lady used to go to synagoge on Saturdays. I asked the landlady, "Was the other lady Jewish?" She answered, "She was as Jewish as she could be!"

Well, it's after 10 PM, and time for bed. And I haven't gotten much into my Dad's life, let alone mine!

Beginnings Cont'd, A

The vital statistics of my mother and her siblings:
Emma Louise Blankenburg b. Jan 21, 1887 in Rockville, CT, d. Aug 5, 1957, Rockville, CT
Esther Selma Blankenburg b. Sep 20, 1889 " , d. May 2, 1965, Providence, RI
Charles William " b. Mar 7, 1892 in Vernon, CT, d. Jan 4, 1973 in Newington, CT
Florence Carrie " b. Mar 31, 1897 " , d. Mar. 5, 1937, Hartford/Windsor,CT
Cora Hattie " b. Jul 18, 1899 " ,d. Mar. 26, 1961, Rye, NY
Frederick Richard " b. Jun 22, 1901 " , d. Oct 25, 1993, Vernon, CT
Arnold Edward " b. Apr 13, 1905 " , d. in Oakley, KS




Here is a photo of the house in Vernon where we all grew up, taken in 1892, with my grandma as a young woman, holding my aunt Esther as a baby, and my mother standing next to her as a little girl. My mother's grandpa Backmann is standing there under the small maple tree. The yard is surrounded by a picket fence, and the house has shutters. The house still stands, but is so remodeled it is unrecognizable. My mother could speak only German until she was 4 years old, as thats what they spoke at home. Her Backmann grandparents lived with them. In fact, the house was bought as a reposession from a bank, and Mr. Backmann proveded the ernest money to bind the bargain. The house itself had hand-hewn beams in the basement, and the floor in my bedroom upstairs was made of chestnut.

Let's look at the Backmann side of the family. We will go back to 1832 when Christian Wilhelm Backmann was born. He was also known as William C. Backmann. He died Mar. 15, 1894 in Vernon, CT. He married Wilhelmina Kranert who was born Aug 11, 1839, and died June 223, 1902 in Vernon / Rockville, Ct. she had one sister who married Mr. Young.

Christian Backmann and Willimina Kranert had 3 daughters and 2 sons as follows: Carolinn Albina, ("Aunt Carrie")b. Feb 22, 1868 or 1869; Albina (Bertha) Liberte (My Grandma), b. Triebes, Germany, June 22, 1864, d. Rockville, CT Jul 7, 1947; Wilhelm Franz, ("Uncle Frank") b. Apr 3, 1867, Married May 17, 1888, had a number of children, lived in Shelton, CT, then they moved to Ann Arbor, or Interlocken, MI in the 1930's; William C. Jr. ("Uncle William"), b. Jan 25, 1870, d. Dec. 11, 1934 probably in Springfield, MA. We inherited a butcher knife and an alarm clock from him, and the clock was given to me. But it made so much noise I had to keep it in the chest of drawers. Then there was finally, Selma Marion ("Aunt Selma"), b. Mar 30, 1874 in Rockville, d. April 27, 1923 in PA. She was the Blankenburg childrens favorite Aunt. She married a Gibson, and they had a daughter Esther Gibson who was in the Army for a while, and married a "ner-do-well" by the name of Hinderlighter, about which I can tell you a few stories later.

That's about all the vital statistics on the Blankenburg side, but there are plenty of stories to tell another time. I must go and take care of falling leaves.

Saturday, October 27, 2007

Beginnings

My earliest known ancestor: (I had an old German hymnbook inscribed "Corslin Sonfin Arnold", from Greiz, Germany, 1768). He was the father of Frank Arnold (or Franz Louis Arnold, whose name was inscribed in a Lutheran bible of 1829). He, in turn, was the father of Louise Arnold (Born 1835? in Greiz, Died 1882? in Norwich, Conn). She was the mother of Richard Blankenburg, my Grandpa, who was born Feb. 21 or 26, 1864 in Greiz, and died Jan. 27, 1935 in Rockville, Conn. I used to have a photograph of Louise Arnold (Blankenburg), holding a baby (my greaat aunt Louise), and a little boy (my grandpa Blankenburg).

The aforementioned Frank Arnold / Franz Louis Arnold married Louise C. Scharschmidt, born 1812 (I used to have her baptism certificate), and died about 1900 in Olnyville area of Providence, RI. I have a faded photocopy of a photo of her as an old lady. She raised Louise Blankenburg. She had one sister who stayed in Greiz, and married a Baumgartl, and they had a daughter who married Mr. Dubler.

Now Frank Arnold and Louise Scharschmidt I believe had four children: Willimina, Louise, Maurice, and Henry. Willimina married Frank Argus, and their son Albert settled in California. I used to have his photograph, and I believe he had brothers. Maurice Arnold married, and they had a son, Ellis Arnold, who with his wife lived at 6716 Miramonte Blvd, L.A., Calif. His wife preceeded him in death, and they had no children. Henry Arnold never married.

Now going back in time to another branch, (no dates available), Eduard Blankenburg married Wilhelmina Hoffman, and they apparently had two sons, Edward and Frank. Edward went to Nebraska and married, probably in North Platte. They had two daughters, Tillie and Jesse, plus two sons who were bachelors and settled in California. My mother used to correspond with Jesse. Frank Blankenburg was born in Greiz, Germany and died in Providence RI maybe about 1912. He was a travelling musician and never home. That's why my great aunt Louise was raised by her grandmother rather than her mother.

Frank Blankenburg and Louise Arnold had at least three sons and a daughter. The sons were Otto, Richard, and Werner. The daughter was my great aunt, Louise Emilie Blankenburg, born about 1874, and died about 1954 in Providence, RI. She was a housekeeper for the Governor of Rhode Island, and when he died he gave her the life-use of his mansion in Providence. We used to visit there. She never married. My grandfather was Richard Blankenburg, born in Greiz, Germany Feb. 21 or 26, 1864, and died Jan. 27, 1935 in Rockville, Conn. One of his brothers changed his name from Blankenburg to Blank, moved to NYC and was never heard from again.

My grandpa Richard Blankenburg came with his parents to USA when he was about 2or 4 years old. They came in a sailing vessel which took a long time to cross, and according to my Aunt Esther, they were headed for Argentina, but were blown off course, and wound up in Rhode Island.

My grandpa Blankenburg only had about 1/2 of first grade for schooling, and could only write his name. He did teach himself how to read, however, and was a hard-working man, although something of a character. I have plenty of stories about him, and will try to cover them in time. Anyway, he settled in Rockville, CT, met and married my grandma, Albina (Bertha) Liberte Backmann. They were both 21 when they got married, and I used to have a photo of them together at that age. In that photo you could see the likeness of all their 7 children.

Early on, my Grandpa and Grandma Blankenburg quit their work in Rockville, and took up farming at the NW corner of Dart Hill Road and Skinner Road, in Vernon, CT where their 7 children grew up (and later on, my sister and I also). He did a lot of "truck gardening", raising vegetables and selling them retail in Rockville. Also he had dairy cows, pigs, and some chickens, plus he raised broadleaf tobacco. As the farming succeeded, he added more land.

My grandparents, Richard Blankenburg and Bertha Backmann had four daughters: Emma Louise (my mother), Esther, Cora, and Florence. They had three sons: Charlie, Fred, and Arnold. Their vital statistics to be continued in next blog.