Roots;Land and Water

Maternal Grandfather came from London ("Home" Kent, England) on The Saint Louis, (1910) as a young man of 20. Plans were to come to America to be a barber and to send money back home to his Mother. He was sponsored by a family (farmers) in the town of Ontario and worked for them until he purchased a farm, settled in the Town of Ontario, became a Father, and played coronet in the Ontario Fireman's band.

He never returned to England. Two of his brothers traveled England to America then back, then returned to America from 1909 to 1920. His brother purchased a ticket for the Titantic voyage but at the last minute "missed the boat" by a "change in plans".

Grandma Sarah (paternal line) came from Holland (farmers) with her family; Mother and Father ages 24 and 25, with three young children (born to that date) all under the age of five. Sarah, age 1, became ill on the voyage (The Veendam) and years later it was summized by the nature and lengthly period of time of her liver illness that she had contracted hepatitis on the journey. Her passing left 6 children ranging in ages from 2 to 16 to be raised by my Grandfather, the oldest children, and extended family.

2006, my parents celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary. To mark the occasion and for the gathering of family and extensive list of their friends of all ages I put together a scrapbook. I honored the fact that Mom's Dad (age 52) had passed the year prior to their marriage and Dad's Mom (age 40) had passed when he was 14 years old; neither of them living to be a part of that day in 1946.

I wrote this in loving memory to "the Grandparents I never met" and to include them on this day, 60 years later, in celebration of their children:

God, watch over me and mine I pray

Your Ocean to cross so vast.

Dream You planted in my heart just as deep

Your Promise be true, what I sow may I reap.

Set my sail to horizon -America, there may

Mother Liberty open her arms.

Captain my ship as she sails on the Sea

Me a lad or babe, Mother praying over me.

Farmland rich for Your Hands did make.

My gifts all I bring, from Thee.

My hands able to labor and music I play

Send Your Love and Guide my way. Amen.

Maternal family line; Great-Grandma and Grandpa. His family came from Holland sometime before the Civil War...stories were recorded by newspaper that he remembered the day President Lincoln was shot (about 5 years old at the time).

My Grandma had a green thumb for vegetable gardens and flowers. Memories of her many; spading dirt by shovel in the Spring and tending her gardens each Summer through Fall, a gift she inherited and learned from her father and then passed on to my Mom.

Photos taken near the Water, down on her Lakeshore; Ontario, the Great Lake. This place where families settled and they chose to be the caretakers of the land deposited there, a place to root children, and then to raise them near. She, this Great Lake and they, each generation, each family, each one...took a moment to be recorded as having been there...in this place, settled, together.

Good Friends

Grandpa, closest to water pictured above with a friend, was a farmer by trade, and an avid fisherman by hobby and at heart. His older brother, John was the "professional" fisherman on Lake Ontario waters. Stories told down of family back home in Holland, "farmers and fisherman on the Sea, they were."

Names of "Home Towns" In Holland (Providence) I saw printed, though letters switched or left off or added on through speech translation handscripted now in print or handwriting versions of the storycarriers. Here I will write them as Zeelandic Flander; Zuidzande; but most common I saw Cadzand. Speech we often heard Zuid-er-zee. I assume that meant land Zuidzande next to or on the zee (Noordzee/North Sea). Funny how sound and letters get lost over time.

Then, the waves and Sea...Now, still fighting the elements to work the land and to preserve home...that remains like Homeland, northwest Netherlands. The draw towards living near water remained in the hearts and Souls of next generations and there they settled along The Great Lake; Ontario. Farmland, rich and higher elevation this new place called, home.

Dad carried on the tradition...early morning fisherman with fish tales to tell, taking a break from farming.

Mom never learned to swim, was more fond of viewing or sitting near than being in the water. Still...the story has been told and retold how she jumped into the water (a pool, not the Lake or Bay) and saved me from drowning when I was 2.

"A day at Pultneyville Beach"

Mom sitting the closest to the Lake.