Do you ever think about your family roots and the stories surrounding your heritage and ancestry? If so, please join Olney Library at our upcoming Genealogy Workshop with the Montgomery County Historical Society on Saturday, October 27, at 10:30 am. No pre-registration is required.
The idea for this event started when former Olney Senior Librarian Adrienne recounted her genealogical journey in our March 2018 blog post. We greatly appreciated Adrienne's willingness to share her personal story. It was such a moving experience for her, uncovering a branch of father's family tree and meeting previously unknown relatives, that we wanted to provide an opportunity for others to start their own research using MCPL and other free genealogical resources.
Thus, we invited the Montgomery County Historical Society and genealogist Lorraine Minor back for another workshop. In the meantime, Adrienne's story has continued to resonate with Olney staff and customers alike. For this reason, we're sharing a few more family tales from Olney staff. These open up a whole new dimension about each person that may have been previously unknown. At the same time, we're reminded of how complex, rich and unique every family is. All good stories fire our imaginations and help us to reflect on our own lives and families. We hope you enjoy them, and are inspired to join us on 10/27!
Peggy: "Our Legacy Rose"
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| The rose bush is over 8 feet tall |
"You can tell it isn't a modern rose. The stems are thickly covered in thorns, large and small; very painful if you happen to brush your arm against them or accidentally impale your fingers, rather like getting stuck by porcupine quills. And unlike the elegant single long stems of today, these roses often come in clusters of small deep reddish pink flowers, a ready-made arrangement for a bud vase.
This very old-fashioned rose is one my grandfather planted around 100 years ago. He'd returned from serving in France in World War I, married my grandmother, and they bought their first and only house around 1918 in Pennsylvania. He planted the rose for her in their newly made garden. I remember that every Armistice Day (now Veterans Day) or special occasions my grandfather would put one of the small buds in his lapel. After my mom and dad married and bought their first house in Rockville, MD, my grandfather brought them a rose cutting to plant in their first garden. As my parents moved to make room for their growing family, they always received a new rose cutting from my grandfather to plant in their new garden.
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| Ouch!.. so many thorns |
The original rose was still there when my grandparent's house was sold in the early 2000s, following the death of my family's last occupant of the house. I don't know if it is still there. Our legacy rose, which we tend with great care, is thriving at our house. It has grown to over eight feet and in early spring and summer, it is continuously covered in clusters of roses that last and last until October. I think my grandfather would be very pleased."
Amy: "King Road Drag"
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| D. Ward King |
Amy's paternal great-grandfather is D. Ward King, inventor of the horse-drawn "King Road Drag," forerunner to the modern-day road grader. He invented it in 1896 while living in Missouri and later patented the idea in 1908. According to the Lemelson Center for the Study of Invention and Innovation at the Smithsonian Institution, "So influential was King's split log drag that it inspired a poem for the Western Mutual Life Insurance Company of Council Bluffs, Iowa... The poem was intended to stimulate interest in his drag and make companies realize that good roads help business everywhere." You can read it here.
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| Diagram of the "King Road Drag" (1909) |
Amy says she grew up hearing stories about D. Ward King, as "there are many genealogists in the family." A few years ago, the National Museum of American History started work on an exhibition on American Roads and the "Good Roads Movement." It was at that point that Amy's mother, Dr. Helene W. King, decided to donate the family's original blueprints, correspondence, publications and black & white photographs to the museum, "instead of keeping them in her attic." The donation is now officially part of the Archives Center at the Museum and can be accessed online.
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| Car pulling the King Drag, undated |
D. Ward King himself wrote about the benefits of what he called the "Split-Log Drag" in a 1908 Farmers' Bulletin, published by the U.S. Department of Agriculture: "There are at present in this country about 2,000,000 miles of such roads, most of which must be maintained by some means more or less inexpensive. The split-log drag is of great service on roads of this class, and an increasing mileage of the rural highways of this country is being kept in repair economically and well by the use of this simple implement." According to the Smithsonian archives, King was able to make "a decent living for years" on the lecture circuit. He was an "eloquent, dynamic speaker" and his "talks were often sold out."
Carol: "Lloyd Really Did It"
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| Lloyd Smeltz |
"When you start doing genealogical research, you can often find the most unexpected, and sometimes shocking, family stories. I've been exploring my family history for many years. At times you stumble upon threads of a story and try to re-create events and understand the motivations of people. In the end, a story like this remains a mystery that continues to fascinate and boggle the mind. Here I lay out the snippets of facts I've gleaned from primary sources such as newspaper articles and archived public records. But so much still remains unknown.
This photograph is my paternal grandfather's first cousin, Lloyd (that would be my dad's second cousin). Lloyd allegedly shot his father, John, on February 2nd, 1922. They had lived on a successful dairy farm outside of Harrisburg, PA. John was shot in the head at about 11 PM on that fateful night. His son, Lloyd, was charged with the murder, but he blamed 'auto bandits' for the death. Lloyd was put in jail, along with his brother, Edward, who was held as a witness. At the time, Lloyd was 22 years old.
The next year, Lloyd was acquitted on the murder charge. According to a local newspaper account, the trial cost the county '$1,154.42, not including jury fees and hotel expenses.' When the acquittal was announced, 'pandemonium broke loose in the courtroom. For more than a minute the 200 or more spectators... clapped, cheered and stamped their feet.' The paper stated that Lloyd went to his mother, John's widow, who was very happy about the outcome: 'Tears of joy streamed down her cheeks.'
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| Local newspaper article (1923) |
After the trial, Lloyd went back to live at that farm. That same year, he married and his wife gave birth to their son, Lloyd Jr. (According to the marriage license, he had been previously married, but it ended because of adultery. By whom, we're not certain.) Lloyd died in 1967, while his son Lloyd Jr died in 2003.
When I discovered this story, I asked my dad about it. He only said he remembered 'hearing something about it.' It was never talked about in our family; my mother didn't know, and we were not in touch with that part of the extended family. When I dug deeper into the story, I found an article about Lloyd's dad, John, who started a barroom brawl, challenging every man in the bar to fight him.
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| Death Certificate for John Smeltz |
So many questions remain. Why did the courtroom erupt in cheers after Lloyd's acquittal? Why was his mother so happy? What kind of person was his father, John, to evoke that kind of reaction by family and members of the community? We will never know the answers. But based on the few facts we know about the crime, the consensus in the family is that Lloyd really did it."
Valarie: "For the Love of Dance"
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Carole Ross Hoover
at Olney Library last week |
"I learned about my mom's dancing past one story at a time, in tales she told my siblings and me during our growing-up years. We also took joy in uncovering the 'artifacts' of Mom's minor local celebrity, such as the taffeta and tulle costumes in a box under Mom's bed, which we soon recycled for Halloween, dressed as princesses and fairies. Later we discovered, one-by-one it seemed, photos around the house of my mom, Carole Ross Hoover, singing to soldiers at a local officer's club, tap dancing at a U Street venue, or instructing students at her Tenleytown, D.C. studio in the 1950s.
Then we hit the motherlode: we found a scrapbook of news clippings and photos compiled by Mom's own mother. My grandmother once had dreams of becoming a concert pianist herself, dreams cut short by the Great Depression when she turned down a conservatory scholarship to find work to support her parents and younger siblings. By day, she sold hats in a Philadelphia shop, by night, she played piano for silent films. Grandmother's dreams of performing were taken up by her dancing daughter duo, as Grandma managed their gigs and took pride in their success.
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Carole (right),
with sister Diane (left) |
My own mother never wanted celebrity, she just loved dancing and music. "Your Grandmother once arranged for us to perform at our all-girls Catholic high school, but the nuns pulled us off the stage when they saw our costumes," Mom told us, with a rebellious twinkle in her eye. The sisters' performance income paid for their college educations. In the D.C. and NYC nightclub scene, the sisters were known for their talent and seriousness. "While the other girls on the [chorus] line were drinking and socializing, we were studying in the dressing room between acts," Mom recalled. "Everyone thought we were crazy."
Here are a couple of photos from my mom's illustrious past as a semi-professional dancer and singer.
In the studio photo, my mom Carole is at right, and her sister, Diane, is at left.
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At D.C. supper club
"Casino Royal" (early 1950s) |
With her dark hair and green eyes, my mom resembles the French Canadian side of our family. Her blond sister, Diane, looks more like the German side.
The other photo was taken from a D.C. supper club called the Casino Royal in the early 1950s. Mom performed as the opening act for headliners such as Dinah Washington and guitarist Charlie Byrd.
Hard to believe I could be related to a starlet like this. I always saw my mom as beautiful, outgoing, and at ease with everything. Only in recent years have I realized mom is more like me than I thought, a dreamer and introvert at heart, who acquired her stage presence and poise from years of performing."
Carolyn: "The Tale of the Piano and Its Player"
Note: Carolyn was Olney's Acting Branch Manager until late September 2018. She was promoted to Branch Manager at Little Falls Library, but we had already intended to include her story before her departure! 😊
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Joseph Fink,
known as 'Flat Top' (1992) |
"My father, Joseph Fink, was a professional pianist. Every day, when I was a child, my dad would sit at the piano in our living room for hours and play. I grew up thinking that everyone had a dad who could play the piano and was surprised to learn that was not the case. I discovered that when I was nine years old and was allowed to go to a friend's house unaccompanied by my parents for the first time. I arrived at my friend's home and exclaimed, "When is your dad going to play the piano?" My friend was stunned by my outburst and told me his dad did not play a piano, but he could repair televisions. As it turned out, my friend's dad owned a television repair store.
My dad began playing the piano when he was five years old. His family was poor, so they could not afford to purchase one, leaving my dad to wander around the Bronx and then Queens, NY, looking for friends and neighbors who did. He would go to those homes as often as he could and play the piano. He continued doing this throughout his teen years and began to sing, too. One day someone at one of the gatherings noticed him and asked him to play in a public setting. That fortunate day became the first of many, many musical events in which my father participated.
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| Joseph Fink with his fans (1989) |
In his heyday, my dad recorded a couple of vinyl records, was on the radio, and played at conventions in New York City. He became a multi-instrumentalist, playing the guitar, ukulele, banjo, accordion, organ, harmonica, maracas, and more. He was also given a nickname, 'Flat Top,' because of the haircut he sported when came home from serving in the Army. Over the years, my dad continued to play at private parties, local restaurants, and at one of his favorite spots, the Veterans of Foreign Wars (VFW).
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Caroline and Joseph Fink,
circa 1940s |
Eventually he met and married my mother, Caroline, and they moved to the suburbs and started a family. I am one of three, the middle child. When I was about three years old my dad began to teach me to play the piano. One of my earliest memories is sitting on the piano bench next to my dad, with him pointing to the black and white keys in the order he wanted me to strike them. When I was five, my parents decided to give me formal lessons. For the first time, my dad was going to have the opportunity, through me, to learn how to read sheet music. As it turned out, he did not need to do that. He had perfect pitch and played by ear. He truly did not need to have anything perfected, he was perfect in his own way! When I was young, I used to accompany my dad to some of his venues. He would play and I would sing, or we would sing together. I knew he wanted me to follow in his footsteps, but I decided on a different path. Although I did not pursue a career in music, I did have many years of fun, singing along with him at a number of events.
As my dad grew older, he downsized, moved to a smaller place, and gave me his piano. I was honored to have it! A number of years later, my husband Barry and I moved out of state. We brought the piano to my daughter's home as it was too difficult to move it to Texas from New York. When my daughter was married, I hired a company to restore and tune my dad's piano, and had it brought to her wedding venue. What a time we had, sitting around my dad's piano while he played for everyone during the cocktail hour. We, of course, joined in on all of the tunes he sang and had a grand old time while the videographer captured it all for posterity.
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Carolyn's grandson plays
her father's piano |
Today, my dad's piano sits in my daughter and son-in-law's living room. My twelve-year-old grandson, Andrew, takes lessons. How I wish my dad was still around to see that! I know he would be so proud of him, and amazed that his piano is still putting out beautiful music.
My father never retired as he absolutely loved music, and playing and singing for others gave him tremendous pleasure. He played until several months before he passed away at the age of 90, due to failing health. Not many people can say they did something they loved for 85 years. I do believe it was 'love at first sound' for my father rather than love at first sight. What a lucky man!"
BTW, you can learn more about Adrienne's family history journey, as well as that of Olney staff member Carol in our podcast episode all about genealogy.
Labels: History, Olney, Olney staff, Research
