Native American or just American?

As I was growing up I was always told that we were part Indian (in today's politically correct world that would be Native American), I took this information passed down from great grandparents to grandparents to my parents and then to me to be true and indisputable. Three of my Great Great Grandmothers were supposed to be  full blood and someone on another branch as well.

Fast forward to August 2010 when I started my family research and decided to track down these Indians and find their Indian names.  

Shock of all shocks, I cannot find one ancestor with a non-Christian name.  Well heck, what happened ? where are my Indians? who are they? 

Fortunately one of my cousins, on my dads' side, had tracked down an ancestor, Elija "Elihu" Debord, with a Roll Number.  Never heard of a roll number? ("During the Indian Removal beginning in 1831 extensive records were generated through the turn of the century...http://www.accessgenealogy.com/native/rolls.htm )   I had heard of roll numbers but I did not know how important they were, and truthfully I always figured my Indian ancestors had hid from any "Government" men and therefore would not have been on any rolls. Okay now that she had found an ancestor with a roll number all she has to do is apply to the Cherokee Nation in Oklahoma  to be admitted to the tribe, right? Wrong. Our ancestor never made the Trail of Tears, as far as our research indicates he never lived on a reservation either. Okay, fair enough, he lived free but he was still a Cherokee.  My cousin did more research over several years contacting tribes and historians finally finding a small group of Cherokee Indians in Kentucky who had never left Kentucky and that is the small poor tribe we are members of. Cool so we get admitted right? 

Hold your horses, just because you CLAIM this Indian on the rolls is your ancestor doesn't make it so. Now you must PROVE your lineage to said person. 

WHAT???  These hill people, farmers, independent people probably didn't leave any proof behind , how to prove?   Thankfully my cousin did finally get census records with names of the parents and children until she came to our Great Grandmother who actually had a birth certificate.  Of course by now we are into modern times and our grandparents and parents do have birth certificates we can use for proof.  Cannot thank my cousin enough for proving our lineage. 

But hey , what about the other three Indian ancestors?

Truthfully I am still searching, connecting with people who are also descended from the same "Indian" on my tree.  One of the first things I will ask a new found cousin is "Have you ever been told you were Indian on this line?" Some people will say "Absolutely NOT! Not a drop of Indian blood"  others will say "Yes I was told I am 1/4 Cherokee but the ancestors didn't want anyone to know they were Indian so they never applied for "Headrights" "
Eliza or Elizabeth Arnett told my grandpa that she was a Cherokee Indian but did not register because her husband was an outlaw.

 Great great grandmother, Dafayette "Dave" Kimbal-Kimble-Kimbrel (not sure how either of her names were spelled) some family members think she was Cherokee others Choctaw,  was disowned when she married my white great great grandfather, okay fair enough , she married white and lived white. 

 My great great grandfather, Albert Pitts,  expressed that if he applied for Indian rights he would never be free again, once again , fair enough , except.. what the heck tribe were you?  I know this branch used to live in a covered wagon and would spend about 2 months every year living on an "Osage" reservation , but were they Osage? Am I? 

My quest continues and I invite you to ride along. 

Genealogy or Addicted to the Past

About 18 months ago I joined Ancestry.com and my addiction was instant.
I thought I knew who my ancestors were and where they were from; England, Ireland, Germany and Native Americans- Cherokee, Choctaw and Osage, however my research would prove that most of what I knew was inaccurate.

First I assumed (and you know what assumed means) that my ancestors knew how to spell their names, umm NO!, that they knew their birthdays, again NO! and that they would be truthful about what country they came from- another big NO!

I have connected with a bunch of new relatives and discovered that my hubby's sister-in-law is actually a cousin to me. Whoo hooo. A whole bunch of family right here in the town I live in.

I am currently researching the following families: Holman from Oklahoma; Pitts from Tennessee, Missouri and Oklahoma; Arnett from Missouri and Oklahoma; Little from Missouri; Hathorn-Hawthorn-Hawthorne from Alabama, Arkansas and Oklahoma; Woods from Arkansas; Couch from Arkansas; Goodwin from Arkansas, Texas and Oklahoma; Williams from Arkansas and Oklahoma; Debord from Kentucky; Minton from Kentucky; Stice from Kentucky; Baggs from Arkansas just to name a few.
What a task, the spellings of names change from census record to death. Ages change; my ancestors claimed to be older in order to get married or work. As the years progressed they would start saying they were younger - can't blame them, but makes research more difficult.

Anyway this is an introduction to my journey into genealogy, I will be posting stories of my ancestors soon.

Concerts I have Attended

I love music and just wanted to list all the performers I have seen in concert, enjoy

Country and Western

George Strait
Ricky Van Shelton
Merle Haggard
Buck Owens
Dwight Yoakam
Conway Twitty
Barbara Mandrell
John Conlee
The Judds
Charlie Pride
Neil McCoy
Ray Price
Ronnie Milsap
Pam Tillis
Rita Coolidge
Anne Murray
Tracy Byrd
Billy Ray Cirus
Oak Ridge Boys
Statler Brothers
Marty Stuart
Johnny Paycheck
Mickey Gilley
Gatlin Brothers
Clint Black
Patty Loveless
---------------------
Rock

Earth Wind and Fire
Donna Summer
Mac Davis
Weird Al
Aerosmith
Journey
Ted Nugent
Foreigner
KISS
Paramore
Collective Soul
Pearl Jam
CCR
Paul Revere and the Raiders
Barry Manilow
Wayne Newton
David Cassidy
Harry Connick JR
Santana
The Platters
Billy Ocean
Iron Butterfly
Ben Harper
--------------

If you attended a concert with me and I missed a group or performers name please let me know.

The Abyss of Discouragement.

Just after my 51st birthday, a friend posted a picture of me on Facebook. I was SHOCKED!! When did I get so fat? Wasn't I wearing last years winter clothes?

This prompted me to begin a fitness lifestyle. Not some celebrities program, not Jenny Craig or Nutri-system, just walking and watching calories. The more I walked and cut calories the more discouraged I became at how slowly I was losing weight but being a rather hard-headed, stubborn individual I persevered.

Three months into my new lifestyle I am now walking 5 times a week, hula hooping, floor exercises and some very light weight-lifting. I feel much better, sleep through the nights and have lost some inches, not an entire pants size but enough for me to see a difference.

And still everyday I fight the urge to fall into the abyss of discouragement.

I Lie to Myself

I lie to myself.
I can eat this donut, cookie, piece of cake, second helping.
I lie to myself.
I don't have to lose weight just yet.
I lie to myself.
I will start my diet tomorrow.
I lie to myself.
I look good for my age.
I lie to myself.

In Search of..

I was given a book for my birthday titled "Banned for Life" by D.R. Haney. The story is about a former punk rocker, his life, his music and his quest to find a former punk rocker who changed his life.

While reading the book I found myself contemplating how important music has been in my life. Each stage of my life can be described by the genre of music I was listening to at the time.

A distant faded memory began to take shape , my dad had an aunt who was a professional musician, Opaline (Little Judy) Bacon who died while on tour in Canada in 1966. Opaline was a mystery to me, I was so young when she passed away I have no memory of ever meeting her but I have strong memories of her picture proudly displayed in my parents home, of a record of hers being in the "special" cabinet. Instantly I "googled" Opaline Bacon and was thrilled to find four links attached to her name. Of course I clicked each link, discovered a duet she preformed with Wayne Kemp , a recording with her brother in laws band Shorty Bacon and his Rhythm Rascals ,I believe she is playing the piano . In a blog article referencing Opaline playing in several clubs in Southern California. The article claimed her brothers were also in bands, which triggered more memories. My grandmother, Opaline's older sister, telling me that all of her siblings were musically talented, her siblings sang, played the piano and or the guitar, but alas my Grandmother did not. Memories of black and white photos of Great Aunts and Great Uncles playing the guitar, or sitting at a piano. Memories of seeing my older 2nd cousin's name on sheet music as the "arranger" when I was in high school.


In Search of Opaline Bacon I found a connection with an ancestor, one I have no personal memory of but who influenced my childhood with her legacy of music. A connection with my Grandmothers family and their talents. A connection with the past that lives in me and my children.

No Filters

People frequently ask me "Why don't you work?" and my answer is "I don't have any filters"

What does it mean to not have filters? It means saying exactly what I am thinking without editing first, without considering the consequences, it means apologizing, embarrassment and sometimes laughter.

One example of something I said at work, when I did work.
Several co-workers and I were chatting when I said "You know the difference between women and men?" nervous silence "Women know they can have any man they want ....... for 20 minutes."
Male co-worker "What you doing the other 15?" 2nd co-worker "Smoking a cigarette."
Entire room erupts in laughter.

As funny as this was, and believe me we all had tears running down our faces from laughing, it was inappropriate and if I had even the tiniest of filters I would have kept my mouth shut.

So this is why I do not work, I have NO FILTERS.

WRONG NUMBER.. HANG UP OR HELP OUT?

I admit it, I LOVE to talk, I will talk to just about anyone, never met a stranger when it comes to talking.

Many years ago, I estimate 15 years, on Mother's Day, I was busy in the kitchen. I have a love/hate relationship with cooking and food. I tend to be around 20 pounds overweight and yet have also battled anorexia in my life- go figure. While I was toiling away , slicing,dicing and throwing together ingredients , my 7 year old son was playing phone monitor.

There is a rule, somewhere, when you are the busiest your phone will ring and ring and ring, this was one of those days. I had by this time of my role of being a MOM perfected the art of selective hearing and was not paying much attention to my son and the phone, when suddenly it occurred to me my son had answered a wrong number several times in a row.

I finally asked my son "James, who keeps calling?"
"It's some old lady asking for Mary." he says in his most annoyed voice.
"Well let me answer it next time, maybe I can figure out why she keeps calling our number." I barely finished before the phone rang again, I grabbed the phone and answered "Hello" a very frail voice asked "Is Mary there?"
"Mam there is no Mary here. What number did you dial?"
The caller rattled off MY phone number. "Well that is my number, how did you get this number?"
"Information gave me this number, I am trying to call my old friend "Mary". Her son was killed in Vietnam and my son passed away this year, I really wanted to wish her a happy Mothers day. We used to live next door when I live in Oildale on El Tejon and we were such good friends, I really regret that we have lost touch."

"El Tejon!! That's just two streets away from me. Why don't you give me your phone number and I will go over to Mary's house and let her know you are trying to call her?"

"Oh honey would you? That's so sweet!"

My son and I jumped in the car, drove over to Mary's house and knocked on the door. A bewildered older woman answered the door and I handed her a piece of paper with the callers' phone number and told her the "wrong number" story. Tears welled up in Mary's eyes, she thanked me and invited us inside. Unfortunately I had food in the oven and we had to leave.

Wrong number? I think not, that was an opportunity to teach me what Mother's Day is really about.

Juror or Judged?

I am sure it has happened to everyone, you open your mailbox and there it sits. A jury duty summons. And I am sure your reaction is the same as mine.."Oh hell!! I don't want to serve Jury Duty!"

I took the darn thing into the house, opened it up, noted the date and stuck it to the fridge with a magnet.

I called in Sunday night and could not believe they wanted me at 8am Monday morning, so I went to the website and yep, sure enough, I was going to jury duty at 8am Monday, ugggg.

Now I understand that with freedom there is responsibility, that our justice system only works if we each do our part, but I still don't like jury duty and I am going to delve into WHY I do not like it.

Everyone checks in, names are called and panels are taken to court rooms, so far everything is cool, comical even, and an opportunity to observe people. The trouble for me is once we are in a court room.

Remember no one volunteered , no one sent in a resume to be a professional juror, we are in a court room because we received an official summons in the mail, yet we are treated by the system as if we are criminals. If you do not answer when roll is called, the court can swear out a warrant for your arrest, what?? I was in the ladies room (I was here and ready at 1:30pm and by 2pm we weren't in the courtroom and I needed to pee, how was I to know that's when you would decide to call us into the room?)
There is a lot of hurry up and wait, waiting outside the courtroom for minutes and sometimes hours as mysterious activities are happening inside the courtroom.

Then there is the dread, dread of being called to the jury box to be a juror and the dread of NOT being called. Once you are interviewed you are either picked to be a juror or deemed unworthy and excused and go back to the juror room to either wait to be sent home or called to another courtroom. Until you are called to the box and interviewed you must sit in the courtroom, listen to regular folks stories and endure the boredom , irritation and frustration of the process.

Once you are called to the juror box the judge starts asking questions, and the defendant/s are sitting right across from you and sometimes the victims families are also in the courtroom. I am going to tell you I heard some very personal, private and heartbreaking information from prospective jurors, information that most people do not share with their best friends. The prosecuting attorney gets a chance to question you , dig a little deeper, poking and prying and lastly the defense attorney gets his chance.

example questions:
What is your profession?
Your spouse or significant other?
Have you or anyone close to you ever been charged with a crime?
Have you or anyone close to you ever been a victim of a crime?
(the court wants specifics, names of crimes, year, plea or jury trial, etc)


Now I just want to know, WHO IS ON TRIAL??? because to me, I am convinced the citizen doing his/her duty was the one on trial, judged, pried open and violated.

To Padre Hotel or Not?

Hubby and I love eating out, we enjoy being waited on and trying new food. Hubby's love affair with food started with his parents who were wonderful cooks. Eating food prepared by his parents was always an adventure for the palate. Hubby worked at "Freddie's at the Skyway House" as a teen and was a managing partner of a "Carrows" Restaurant" in Santa Fe, New Mexico. I on the other hand grew up on fried potatoes and pinto beans inspiring me to try new foods at every opportunity.

Due to a plethora of activities hubby has to attend this weekend we decided to celebrate Valentine's Day yesterday. Without the usual discussion of "Where do you want to go?" we instantly agreed on trying the newly remodeled "Padre Hotel" http://www.thepadrehotel.com/stay.php.

With great anticipation we dressed, modeled our outfits, "Does this look okay?" grabbed our umbrella and jumped into the pickup truck and off to The Padre Hotel we went. On the drive we discovered that neither of us had ever been to the Padre in the past, strange as it was a landmark. I did remember that a telephone answering service was housed in the Padre and that the answering service had been owned by a silent film star. Alas I could not remember the name of the service nor the film star.

We pulled into the valet parking area and were greeted by friendly and helpful valet staff. One young man opened our doors, held our umbrella and escorted us to the large glass double doors. Entering the lobby, hubby and I were like children on their first trip to Disneyland. We stopped and drank in the beauty of the newly remodeled Padre Hotel. The first thing you see when you walk in is a huge mural of a cowgirl, strange as I had "Old Hollywood" and art deco in mind. To the left is a large bar/grill that was PACKED with nicely dressed patrons all of whom appeared to be enjoying themselves, smiling, talking, drinking, eating and even playing pool.

Finally we made our way to "The Belvedere" , an upscale dining room. We arrived early, before 6P.M. and were quickly seated by the friendly hostess. I took a look around spying the molding near the ceiling reminiscent of old Hollywood and art deco, windows covered in a blue film decorated in oil rigs.

I must admit the service at the Belvedere is possibly the best, friendliest, most attentive service ever, none of the snobby attitude encountered at some of the local eateries.

Drinks were ordered and received promptly, the waitress delivered a sample of their tasty "lamb meatballs" compliments of the Chef. I recommend the pot stickers appetizer they were fresh and tender, the sauce was good without being overpowering. Our dining experience just got better and better, perfectly cooked scallops and shrimp, butter soft fillet mignon, coffee in a French press (better than the fancy coffees and lattes offered at some eateries)and then dessert, bread pudding with lemon custard. The lemon custard is tart, tangy and explodes on your tongue and delights the senses.

On the way home hubby and I plotted our next meal at The Padre Hotel.

picture graciously supplied by: Terry Telford

Drunken Crickets

I survived "The Great Dust Storm" and was working at TG&Y,"a five and dime"(imagine a miniature WALMART).

In the summer of 1977 or was it 1978? a plague of crickets descended upon Bakersfield like a scene out of a horror movie. I would walk out of the door at work and the sidewalk, parking lot and my car would be blanketed by the crusty bugs. Walking to my car, I would dodge crickets flying drunkenly through the thick smoggy air. Thank goodness camera phones and YouTube had not been invented as I am sure my wild weaving, jumping, and thrashing around to avoid the crickets would surely have gone viral.

One evening a gentleman came into the store to have a key copied. I went over to the key machine, matched his original with a blank, set them in the machine and started the grinding process. As I was standing at the machine , making idle chit chat with the customer, I felt a strange scratching on the inside of my thigh, and then felt a crawling sensation moving up towards my panty line.

I started screaming and jumping up and down, stomping my feet and shaking my pants leg trying to dislodge the cricket from the inside of my pants. After what seemed like a lifetime, probably 10 seconds in reality, the wretched creature fell to the floor and I stomped it to smithereens!!!

With the remains of the dead cricket at my feet I looked up to continue copying the key and my customer was GONE!! VANISHED!!

Nearly 33 years later and I still wonder what the poor guy thought and did he have another copy of that key at home?

Can you do the Twist?

Today Elvis Presley would have been 75 years old if he had lived.

Music defines every year, era and stage of my life.

My very youngest memory is connected to the song "Let's Twist Again" by Chubby Checker. I remember sneaking out of bed, very quietly tip-toeing to my bedroom door and peeking out to watch my parents and some of their friends dancing "The Twist" on the hardwood floor in our living room. Rapture, the music, the joy , then oops my mom spotted me. I tried to run back to bed but my dad came after me, picked me up and danced with me. Pure rapture.

My parents loved music and dancing. We danced in our house everyday, everytime a song with a beat came on, "Wooly Bully" and "Hey Good Lookin" are two that bring back very specific happy memories.

When I was 8 I had the maddest crush on Elvis. While watching his movies on TV I would run up and kiss the TV. This is the age I started buying Elvis records. My first was a 45 "In the Ghetto". I still have it.

Music evokes emotions , some happy, some sad, some sentimental. Music wakes sleeping memories, of people , events, places. Music stirs my soul.

Pizza or goodwill

My parents taught me through example, by the way they lived their lives , that helping others was indeed a magnificent way of life. Helping others gave me a sense of accomplishment, purpose and well being even at a very young age.

As a child my parents were always helping someone. I remember helping a complete stranger clean out a house she wanted to rent. The owner let her have the first months' rent free if she cleaned it herself. She was recently divorced with small children and very broke. If my memory serves me correctly quite a few neighbors pitched in to help.


Unfortunately youth today expects "The Government" to help. I was recently asked by a 12 year old girl, "Why didn't you get the government to pay for that?" and she honestly expects the government to take care of all needs. How much have today's' youth lost by NOT being expected to help others (without monetary compensation). The rewards, skills, and self esteem that are built by doing for others is immeasurable.

"Magnificent Obsession" If you haven't seen either version of this film , please do. I watched this film many years ago and was struck by how much I wanted to BE a member of this Magnificent Obsession. However I was raising kids, saving dimes for pizza night, I did not have the time or money to be a philanthropist.

Who am I?

Over the years I have been many different people. When I was young I was Connie -daughter, granddaughter , niece , cousin , child. Once I married I was Mrs & wife, soon I was Mom, mom to three children. At work I was , the gal who was great at answering the phone, great at detailed research of customers accounts, the gal who could get customers to pay their bill and be happy about paying. I was also the "Morning" person, the employee who always cleaned the breakroom and had coffee ready to go the next day.

Now I am GRANDMA and this is the most rewarding identity I have had so far.

As GRANDMA my job entails being my grandchildrens number one fan, their champion, the person who is always in their corner -NO MATTER WHAT. As a parent your job is to raise independent , self reliant, self sustaining adults-this is NOT my job!! I have no responsibilities -except to be the one person in the world who never judges only loves.

I worry that my own children may experience some jealousy , perhaps even harbor some small resentment in the change of my personality, however I hope they realize that being a Grandparent is completely different from being a parent. I wonder if Casey Anderson was unable to share her parents love, devotion with her daughter. Was jealousy and resentment a driving force in her actions? I don't worry that any of my children would ever commit such an atrocity but I do take measures to let my kids know that my love for their children is an extension of my love for them.

Do I have a point to this ramble, NOPE.. just wanted to say, the more you love the more love you have to give.

Happy Holidays

Wisdom or Smarts?

"Mother nature is older and more experienced than you. If anything should ever happen -Don't do anything stupid- you know your mother and I will always love you." Quote from my Father Royce Hawthorne .

My Father is not an educated man. He was student in the 40's and 50's before Hyper Active -Attention Deficit or Dyslexia were recognized and yes he suffered from all of these. My dad suffered through school, reading was slow and painful for him yet he had a teacher in high school who decided to read his tests to him and low and behold he earned his dipolma.

In some ways my father seems to be simple and innocent. Tell him a joke and most likely he will take it literally, not understand the subtexts. Yet my dad was and is a very wise man. Back in a time when most people were unaware of child molesters, child murderers my dad was ever vigilant and protective of me, his only child, and all children he came into contact with. My dad was suspicious of all strangers, most friends and family members. He saw through a persons looks and tried to see into their soul (for lack of a better term), looking for hidden evils. Many people considered my dad overly protective, paranoid and down right mean, however some of these same people were appalled and dismayed to find out their own children had been victims of "evil". While one cannot place blame on unknowing parents, one can recognize my dad's wisdom, wisdom beyond his education, beyond his appearance.

To say my dads over-protectiveness annoyed me to no end, made him the butt of many jokes and unkind remarks by others is an extreme understatement, but I look back and am more than proud and thankful for my father and his love and protection.

While being smart and educated is desirable, I think I value WISDOM more. I strive to be wise , kindhearted , loving, and protective of others as my dad is.

Thank you for reading and best wishes to you and yours.

Marriage

As most of you know yesterday was my 31st wedding anniversary, some of you asked how we made it to 31 years. Marriage is NOT easy, it is a constant work in progress, however I do have some tips that I have learned over the years.

Surround yourself with people who are supportative of your marriage. Easy you say, but take a moment and think of people you may know who slyly or openly are negative about marriage or your spouse. Over periods of time this negativity can worm it's way into your subconscience influencing your prospective towards your relationship.

Do NOT spend social time with people who cheat on their spouse. You may believe with all your heart that cheaters cannot influence you but marriage is forever, life can become dull , difficult, depressing, in times of stress your defences CAN be breached, protect yourself .

DATE NIGHT, schedule it, plan it, make it happen. Spend time alone with your spouse, turn off your cell phones, do NOT invite your children, friends or family, this time should be about the two of you . Do not discuss money problems, problems with your children, family or jobs. This time should simulate pre-marriage behavior.

Reflect, look at old photos and remind yourself why you fell in love with your spouse, look for those qualities in your spouse today. Try to understand how life, disappointments, illness, family issues, jobs and other infuences effect your spouse.

Most importantly FORGIVENESS - forgive yourself and your spouse.

Be your spouse's best friend, his/her champion and lover.

I am no expert but wanted to share a few things I have learned over the years.

Autumn

Here it is, the first rainfall of the season, not much rain just a steady sprinkling, the air soft and dewy.

My mind spins with all the chores I should be tackling, house cleaning, fundraising, promoting of causes, however my imagination is caught up in the smell of Autumn.

I am close to becoming an "empy nest'er" how will I fill the void ? Who will I pick up after? Will I just inherit a new set of worries? Yes, I will worry about The East Bakersfield Optimists Club, how will we raise funds to meet the needs of children in our community. Yes I will worry about the Kern County Sheriffs Activity League and how we will raise funds to help youth. Yes I will worry about Breast Cancer and Links for Life/Light the Town Pink fundraiser.

And yet today I play games on my laptop, listen to Pearl Jam , and check Twitter and FaceBook to see if any of my friends are doing anything interesting today, work and worry can wait until for another day.