I've become so discouraged at trying to find certain relatives in the 1900 census that I decided I'd probably better give it a rest and move on to something else. My subscription runs out this weekend and that's probably for the best. I found my dad's mother in the 1900 census living in Napavine (I think that was the name) in Lewis County, WA. She was still single and would marry my grandpa 3 years later.
I went through the census records for all the towns in Lewis County trying to find him but no luck. I've got some other clues to follow tomorrow. Anyhow, I decided if I was ever going to get this family history down on paper, I'd better start with one person at a time and just record what I have for them.
Actually, that's been kind of fun. I'm starting with my Grandpa and then I'll do his wife and then each of their kids.
I suspect I'm going to have more luck finding where grandpa was once I get going on grandma's whereabouts. I reread his obit to give me some more clues of where to look. I went through other files too to try and put together a short bio of his life. The clerks in Ramsey, IL weren't able to find a birth certificate for him so I'm betting he may have been born at home. Still, there must be a certificate somewhere. Or not.
I did locate one for my mother's mother but she was born 30 years later in 1907. This will probably bore you to tears but I couldn't get Grandpa's bio posted on my wordpress blog so I decided to come back and put it here. The wordpress website is a little complicated and I'm going to have to study a lot more before I get better at using it. I may end up making another family history blog on blogger just because I know how it works. Sometimes I'm too tired to do homework and study.
Lew Gene Blankenship
Also referred to as L.G. ,Lewgene, Eugene, Lewis Gene,
Lewis, Gene, Louis, Lew
Lewis Gene Blankenship b 9 Dec 1877, IL d 14 Sept 1960
Jefferson Co, WA
Lew Gene married Viola Mae Holt 24 Dec. 1903 in Winlock,
WA
Lewis Gene and Mae Holt Blankenship moved to Port
Townsend in May, 1928.
1880 census: Sullivan Co,
Polk MO (June 24) lived in the
town of Milan
Blankinship, Lewis M, 39, IL, VA, VA
Elizabeth, 17, IL
John, 15, IL
James, 13, IL
Thomas, 11, IL
Henrietta, 9, IL
Martha, 7, IL
Zadoc, 5, IL
Lewis J, 3, IL
Unable to locate 1900 census?
Census records for Lew Gene and Viola Mae:
1910 Census, Eola Pct., Polk Co., OR, Page #236, Dwlg #167/167,
10 May
Blankenship,
Leugene . . . . . . 32, W, M, M1/6, IL-IL-IL, Head, Laborer, Farm,
Blankenship,
Viola M. . . . . . . .26, W, F, M1/6-2/2, NE-MO-TN, Wife,
Blankenship,
Velna . . . . . . . . .04, W, F, S, OR-IL-NE, Dau,
Blankenship,
Arthur J. . . . . . . 1-7/12, W, M, S, OR-IL-NE, Son,
1920 Lewis Co, Greenwood, WA
Mae, 36 NE MO TN
Velma, 14 OR
Arthur G, 11 WA
Elva Ellen, 9 OR
George A 5 OR
1930 Jefferson Co, Port Townsend, WA
Lewgene, 52, laborer, paper mill, IL, IL, NJ
Viola M, 46, NE, MO, TN
George, 16, OR
John 7, WA
Jim, 7, WA
1932 City Directory:
Blankenship, L.F. (May)
papermaker Nat’l Ppr Prod Co
home: 5th ward RD3 Port Townsend, WA
1940 census, Port Townsend, Jefferson Co, WA home value $1000
Blankenship, Lewgene 63 conveyer tender paper pulp mill,
income $1600
John, 17
James, 17
WWI draft card registration Sept 12, 1918
Lewgene Blankenship
140 RFD #1, Centralia, WA, Lewis County
bd: 12-9-1877, age 40
sawmill fireman
employer: Lincoln Creek Co in Galvin, WA
med hit, med build, blu eyes, dr brn hair color
relative Viola May Blankenship
LewGene’s parents, Lewis Marion
and Jane Downs Blankenship, were about 37 & 38 when he was born. Jane had a
child about every two years after her marriage in 1859 in Ramsey, Illinois. Lew
was the 9th child. A sister, Minnie Mae,
was born in 1879 but died as an infant.
Another son may or may not have been born in 1881 named Charlie. I have been unable to find any data on who
Charlie was. Perhaps he was adopted into
the family. I’ll keep looking.
Lew’s older siblings (ages 17 down to 3) included
Georgianna (Georgie), Elizabeth (Lizzie), John Allan, James Summer, Thomas E,
Henrietta (Ettie) and Zadock (Zed).
Lew Gene appears in the 1880 census as a 3 year-old
living in Polk, Sullivan County, MO. Since the 1890 census was lost in a fire
and I haven’t been able to find him in any 1900 census, the next time he shows
up in census records is 1910 when he’s living in Eola, Polk Co, Oregon. He’s
married, by this time, and has two children, Velna and Arthur. His occupation
is listed as farmer.
The 1920 census has him living at Greenwood in Lewis
County, WA. He now has four
children. These children (as well as the
twin boys that will be born in 1923) are all born in different towns. I believe
the family moved where the farm fields had work. Velna was born in Salem,
Oregon in 1905. George was born in Oak Harbor, Washington, in 1908 (where Lew’s
wife was from). Elva was born in 1910 in Eugene, Oregon, and George was born in
1914 in Albany, Oregon.
On January 3, 1923, Gene and Mae
were surprised with the birth of twin sons, John and James.
They were living on a farm in Galvin, Washington, just
outside Centralia. Five years later, in
about 1928, the family moved to Port Townsend, Jefferson County, Washington.
When LewGene was born, Rutherford Hayes was
President. The other presidents who held
office during his lifetime included:
James Garfield (1881)
Chester Arthur (1881)
Grover Cleveland (1885)
Benjamin Harrison (1889)
Grover Cleveland (1893)
William McKinley (1897)
Theodore Roosevelt (1901)
William Taft (1909)
Woodrow Wilson (1913)
Warren Harding (1921)
Calvin Coolidge (1923)
Herbert Hoover (1929)
Franklin D. Roosevelt (1933)
Harry S. Truman (1945)
Dwight D. Eisenhower (1953)
Other events occurring during 1877 included Thomas Edison
getting a patent for his phonograph, and in 1878, he made electricity available
for household use. The Washington Post newspaper put out their first edition
the day before Lew Gene was born, and Jesse James, born near Centerville, MO
was robbing banks and trains. PT Barnum teamed up with James Bailey for The
Greatest Show on Earth.
Lew Gene’s
obituary said he migrated from Illinois to Oregon when he was nine years
old. He worked as a farmer and sawmill hand in Oregon and in sawmills at
Winlock and Vader, WA. He operated a farm on Whidbey Island several years and
then moved to Suver, Oregon before settling in Port Townsend.
In 2002, I wrote a memory book and asked various cousins
for their input. One of these memories was “Tell me about your grandparents or
a fond memory.”
Arlie Blankenship wrote:
During WWII, Grandpa came to get me on Hastings Avenue to go to market
and sell eggs. We rode in a white buckboard pulled by a gray horse. I really
enjoyed it. I remember another time watching him blow out stumps on our farm.
He loved dynamite. One day when my mother had a ladies aid meeting going on and
he was blowing out stumps, ladies in hats and blue dresses with white polka
dots would leap into the air every time another stump met its demise.
Denny Blankenship wrote:
My grandfather (dad’s dad) always dressed in coveralls, a funny hat, and
boots like a farmer. I remember going down to his place to get eggs each
week. He often would reach up into a
cupboard and get out a Snickers or Milky Way bar for us kids. He didn’t talk much and neither did my dad.
At his funeral in 1960, I was taken aback to see my father cry. I had never
seen that before.
Dale Blankenship: Grandpa Blankenship nearly always had a
Mounds Bar to give to me whenever we went down to the farm to get some eggs or
a freshly killed chicken.
Janie Lammers: Grandpa was an easy touch. I could get a
dime for being good. He always had lots
of dimes.
Jimmy Blankenship: Les and I were in our tree house
behind the barn. We bombed the barn roof with rocks and hid in the tree house until
grandpa came down and threatened to burn us out. We were brats to say the
least!
Sue Schipper: My fondest memory of my Grandfather
Blankenship was when he showed me his little chicks in the barn on 19th
Street. He probably had 100 or more
following him around as he fed them.
Joyce Blankenship: When my folks divorced in 1951 ,my dad
lived with his dad and when dad got custody, us kids lived with Grandpa
too. He worked at the paper mill in the
1920’s. Helped build the wood mill there. He retired in 1948 at the age of
70. Then he was a garbage man for a
while, and then raised chickens and sold eggs and produce from his gardens. He
wore baggy pants with suspenders, boots, flannel shirts, an old farm hat and
his work coat. He died with his boots on, so to speak. My brother came home
from school and found him on the sidewalk near the barn door. He could be gruff at times but he had a soft
side too. He bought boxes of candy bars to keep on hand for the grandkids that
came to the farm. Grandpa liked chocolate. The foods I remember him buying on a regular
basis were dates, strawberry ice cream, instant coffee, canned milk, raisin
bread and fig bars. He had a large old
rocking chair that sat in the kitchen where he would nap. Later he took refuge
in a section of one barn and would nap out there with a space heater. He spent hours working in his gardens and
they were a work of art. He grew a lot
of strawberries. Sometimes he’d find
Indian arrowheads. I don’t remember ever
seeing him drive a vehicle but he was always pushing a wheelbarrow.
Gene & Mae’s children:
1) Velna 1905-1982
b. Salem OR ma. Darryl Walker
2) Arthur
Gene 1908-1989 b. Oak Harbor, WA ma Katherine Girmus
3) Elva
Ellen 1910-1994
b. Eugene, OR ma. Lyall
Arey
4) George
Arlie 1914-1994
b. Albany, OR ma. Lorraine U’Ren
5) John
Alva 1923 - 2009 b. Galvin, WA ma Alice Nisbet, Marcellla Bell
Smith
6) James
Ira 1923 - 2008
b. Galvin, WA ma Lillian Luttrell
Grandpa built a roofed porch
across the front of the house where clotheslines were strung allowing laundry
to be hung year round. Garden tools, bicycles, sleds, roller skates, balls, and
various other pieces of equipment would also be stored on this porch. The
enclosed back porch was drafty and unheated. A makeshift bathroom with toilet,
sink, and shower sat at one end. Showers were taken infrequently because of the
temperature of the room and the fact that slugs sometimes found their way up
the drain and could be seen crawling across the floor.
When my parents divorced and dad
moved us in with grandpa, he would use the shower but us kids bathed in a
galvanized tub by the wood stove in the kitchen. Sometimes we would be sent
next door to Aunt Lillian’s so we could bathe two or three at a time in their
more up-to-date white porcelain bathtub.
Until dad could afford to buy a
regular refrigerator, an old-fashioned icebox sat near the door on the back
porch, and in the opposite corner was a wringer washing machine that would be
filled and drained with a hose coming from the sink. A washboard and tub also sat nearby and was
used frequently for stubborn stains. If
it wasn’t raining, the laundry was hung in the back yard. More often than not,
though, clothes would end up being transferred from the outside line to a
folding wood rack near the living room stove. My youngest brother was still in
cloth diapers so the wood rack was always in use.
Grandpa’s house had three small
bedrooms, a small living room, and a large kitchen. All the floors were covered
with linoleum and all the windows (which were drafty) had pull down shades. Dad
would nail plastic to the outside of the windows every fall in preparation for
winter’s colder temperatures.
A large wood box sat near the kitchen stove, and it was a
chore to keep it full. You learn how to
get a fire going when it’s the only heat you have. One of the first things
you’re taught is to always make sure the damper is open. After adding crumpled
newspaper, kindling sticks, and larger wood pieces, you’d grab a stick match
from a little wall pocket container nearby. It’s a wonder we didn’t burn the
place down because we also had access to a bottle of kerosene kept behind the
stove to squirt on those stubborn fires that just wouldn’t take because the
wood was too wet.
In 1938, my dad and his
brothers, Jim and George, bid at a public sale on 40 acres of land between
Hastings Avenue and Discovery Road. If
I’m reading the deed correctly, they paid about $132. It provided them with wood
for several years, and I believe my dad eventually bought his brothers out. He
kept the land for a long time, intending to give each of his children ten acres
a piece. Unfortunately, the taxes got
too high for his budget, and none of the four of us had the money to invest. Or
the sense to know that property was going to be worth gold in the years to
follow. We’re all sharing our regret, of course.
I grew up hearing wood being
unloaded from my dad’s truck, wood being chopped, wood being loaded into the
wheelbarrow and dropped into the wood box, and wood being shoved into the wood
stove on cold winter days. Other sounds I recall include creaky bed springs,
roosters crowing, chickens clucking, ducks quacking, our dog, Buster Brown,
barking, the courthouse clock chiming on
the hour, the mill whistle, trains unbuckling and their horns whistling,
foghorns moaning, window shades being yanked and forced open, and noisy
complaints for whoever was in the bathroom to hurry up.
Uncle Jim and Aunt Lillian lived next door to Grandpa and
that was my second home. Dad relied on
them a lot to watch us when he was at work.
Jimmy was closer in age to Les and Janie so those three got into
mischief a lot of the time. Janie loves
to tell the story of when they planned to build a raft and float it out on the
swamp. They secretly gathered what
lumber and other supplies they needed and were just about ready to launch when
a police car showed up and broke up the party.
Seems some passerby had spotted them and told the police they might want
to check up on “those kids down at the swamp.”
Linda
and I were like sisters. We were two years apart in school but only 15 months
in age. We played with dolls; roller
skated, rode our bikes, and went to Sunday school together. We often played at Grandpa’s because there
were more places to hide and make camps. While the house was small, the
surrounding yard had three large gardens, several trees and flower beds, a duck
pen and pool, a wood shed, a barn which once held a couple of pigs, a large
barn that was a garage on one side for the old ’47 International pick-up, and a
storage area for the barrels of chicken feed Grandpa used on the other; one
small chicken house near the front door, and a large red barn at the other end
of the property that was home to a couple hundred chickens. An alley ran from this area down to the swamp
road.
We rode our bikes constantly and roller skated on the
sidewalk that dad and Jim had built from the front porch, down the side of the
house, and to the first barn. One of my most memorable gifts was my first
pair of roller skates. My skating was confined to Jim and Lillian’s short
sidewalk and I had to borrow Linda’s skates when she would let me. Dad and Jim decided to replace Grandpa’s
boardwalk with cement and we were elated when our skating area quadrupled in
size as they made the walk from the front porch all the wide down the side of
the house, towards the barn. The first barn was a perfect place to play ‘Annie
Annie Over’. This was a game where a ball was tossed over the roof and had to
be caught by someone on the other side.
We made our own rules and decided if the ball was caught, that team got
a point.
Because we had chickens and
ducks (and geese for a while), we never had a cat. We did, however, have our dog, Buster
Brown. He was never trained or
disciplined so he was bad about chasing cars and bikes out on 19th Street. We
also had to collar him if salesmen, the milkman, or the paper boy came to
collect. He was just a mutt and one morning
he came in all beat up and near death. He crawled in behind the wood stove in
the kitchen (his favorite place to sleep) and died. Dad figured he had probably gotten in a fight
with a bigger dog. He always did think he was bigger than he actually was. Dad
buried him out near the blackberry bushes.
We
didn’t have a phone at first, and it was a big thrill for us once dad decided
it was time. Grandpa never was happy about it. Our number was 951-W and Jim and
Lillian’s number was 195-W. Elva and Lyall’s number was 655-M and George and
Lorraine’s was 108-M. My cousin, Joan
Arey, was a telephone operator when we got our first phone and we always knew
when she was on duty. If we had an
incoming call, she would ring us with a little toot-toot-ta-toot-toot. If you wanted to make a call, you had to wait
for the operator to come on the line and say “number please.” After giving her the number, she’d say
“thank you” and we’d say “you’re welcome.”
Most people with telephones shared “party lines.” That meant you could pick up the phone and
hear people talking. Some people were
always polite and would hang up gently until the talkers finished but sometimes
you had people on your line with a short fuse and they would keep picking up
the receiver and banging it down again to let you know they wanted to make a
call. It was also well known that you
had to be very careful what you said as others could listen in. People only had
one phone in their home and it was always black. Once we got dial phones, most
places could be called by dialing three numbers and a letter or just three
numbers if you had a private line. Years
later, Port Townsend progressed to push button phones and the whole town had a
385 prefix.
Aunt Velna lived with Grandpa
when dad, me, Les, and Dana moved in. Dana’s crib was kept in her bedroom, Les
had to sleep with dad in probably the same bed dad had as a kid, and I bunked
in a corner of the living room on a small bed behind the door. Grandpa had his
own room, of course, but he had little privacy as you had to go through his
room to get to dad’s bedroom. When Janie
moved in, I think everyone realized we were busting at the seams. Aunt Velna moved to a wonderful little
houseboat on Lake Union in Seattle and started work at Virginia Mason Hospital
in the kitchen. Janie and I shared the tiny bedroom that used to be dads and he
slept in the living room on a hide-a-bed couch.
Grandpa
had about 200 Rhode Island reds and I regularly helped him premix the mash,
feed the hens, fill the water troughs, collect eggs, and help corner a chicken
when it was going to be eaten or sold.
There was a large wood stump set
up with two nails to hold the chicken’s head while Grandpa brought down the
axe. Buster would run excitedly in circles knowing the head would be tossed his
direction. That never failed to gross us
out.
I was
a senior in high school when I walked home that September afternoon and
discovered that Grandpa had died. It was
the day before Dana’s 10th birthday, and he found him lying at the end of the
sidewalk near the barn. This would be my first funeral. He was the only grandparent I would ever
know.
Well, it's suppertime and I'm not in the mood to cook one bit! Think I'll have a salad and a frozen entree. Must be something in the freezer worth nuking.
Take care polar bear!
Just got another picture....I suspect he's never gonna' want for a toy.
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