Well, we are a week past our family reunion. I have to say, when I held the family reunion in 2016, I had billed the reunion as a Jacques family reunion. However, I had four separate sections of my family show up to the reunion. I knew, this year, that we should bill it as a Jacques/Archuleta/Lujan/Herrera reunion. Boy, did people respond.
It is so easy to be divided. These times of divisiveness permeate everyone’s lives. But, when we connect, and celebrate, our ancestors, we enlarge our hearts toward each other, toward our family and toward being open to keeping our connections alive.
Let’s look at our connections.
This first photograph is Rose Marie Lujan, Richard Jacques and myself. Pictures like this make me think of the 1930’s, when our families lived in Jackson and must have reached out to keep their close knit New Mexican connections to each other.
This next picture is Fred Herrera and Lissi Figueroa. The descendant of Celia Jacques Herrera and Celestino Jacques. They were two siblings who would have been very touched to see that this connection continues.
The next picture is Henrietta Archuleta Hayes and myself. She is the very last of that generation, a double first cousin to my dad. She is just as much a Jacques as I am an Archuleta. That is fun to think about. We are so lucky to have one of our original family members with us, well enough to travel and generous enough with her time that she traveled out to California just to attend. Here is a picture of her as a young lady. So lovely.
The number of parties our family has had in the past led to very fun pictures of different parts of our family, all of our connections.
Our Herrera connection is strong. My dad always felt close to his Aunt Celia and I just love this picture of Aunt Celia’s wedding anniversary from the 1970’s.
We have connections everywhere. Each person who came to the picnic made a new connection. We have new connections and new family.
So many lovely pictures, time well spent. My cousin Rose said she’d spoken to me more over the last two months than she had over my entire life. I’m grateful for the time we’ve spent together and I have a feeling it will continue!
So, if you follow my blogposts or your last name is Jacques, Archuleta, Lujan, Herrera or any form, thereof, there is a family reunion/picnic coming up. Now, this reunion is being planned for July, 2018. We had so many picnics in the past. That was always one of my favorite places to go with my parents. So, my cousin Rose has found a park that has lots of shade. This park is in Walnut Creek. A nice central location and not has hot as it is in Stockton. Always important in the summer. We’ll update you soon to the specifics.
We’ve had our DNA tested and it is so interesting. The DNA results are read in “centimorgans”. You receive 50 percent of your centimorgans (cM) from each parent, making up your 100%. However, there is a randomness to your cM. Full siblings won’t have the same genes and only identical twins have the exact same genes.
Parents/Children share approximately 3,400 cM. I had Hailey’s DNA tested and she and I share 3,465 cM across 68 DNA segments. I naturally assumed she was more “Jacques” then Bennett and I am fairly confident that this proves my theory. Haha, well, once we test her father, we’ll know for sure.
Full siblings share 2550 or so. My brother Tim was tested and he and I share 2,565 cM across 64 DNA segments. I’m not too surprised by this number. What would be interesting is if my sister Jackie will consent to a test. I’d like to see how her numbers compare to ours.
I also looked at some of the offspring of my dad’s double first cousins. So the double first cousins share the same four grandparents. However, because of the randomness of DNA that is inherited, there is no guarantee that you will get the same DNA. However, the double first cousins share a higher percentage than regular first cousins.
I looked at my result with Greg Quintana. His mother, Viola and my Dad were double first cousins. He and I share 528 cM across 31 DNA segments. If you compare that number to my first cousin, Donald Serna, with whom I shared 1002 cM across 36 DNA strands. Pretty interesting stuff. Donald is listed as my first cousin, Greg listed as my second cousin. I wish we’d had my father’s DNA tested compared to one of his DF cousins. Oh well, ever forward.
I have had several requests from people who are confused as to how they are related. I won’t bother going over the “double-first” cousin thing again, but what I will attempt to do is explain they are related.
Most of our relatives will be from one of three lines of the Jacques/Archuleta family. The head of the family is Juan N. and Ana Maria Lujan Jacques
Line of Juan N. Jaques and Ana Maria Jacques
These are the children of Juan J. and Ana Maria.
Most of the cousins we grew up with fall in one of three lines.
Josephine and Simon Archuleta
Celestino (brother of Josephine), and Tonita Jacques (sister of Simon Archuleta)
Celia Jacques Herrera
Aunt Celia’s family includes the Stewarts, Leroy and Freddie, Raymos’, Effie Knight’s family, Lujan family (Aunt Edna’s family) and all of the lines on the Herrera list. You can refer back to the main list.
Now, I don’t have all of the lists for the Archuleta families. But, as you can see from this list, there were 12 children and their families have grown exponentially.
Great Aunt Josephine’s family (Line #1) Aunt Flora’s Family (includes Anna Marie Lujan, Rose Marie Lujan, Sonny, Nick, Anita and Gloria)
Uncle Pete’s family (families of Richard, Dolly A. and Leilani Archuleta)
Uncle Archie’s family (Bobby and Diane)
Aunt Viola’s family (Greg and Sharon Quintana and family)
Donald Archuleta’s family (Deejo, Dion, David, Daryl Archuleta and families)
Henrietta Hayes and Family (daughters Dawn, Susan, Judy, Jean)
Uncle Milton’s Family (Frank, Donny, Dale, Nolan)
Aunt Esther’s Family (Karen, Damian, ,Duane, Bobby, Norma)
Brother Celestino to Josephine and Celia,
Feel free to refer back to the Jacques Grandkids list above, along with the Aunt Celia’s family list.
I hope that clears this up for everyone who had questions. But I know it won’t. Don’t worry, I’ve been studying this stuff for years and years and I don’t always have it correct too.
This will be my last post for the year 2017. My goal for 2017 was to complete 26 blog posts. This is my 26th post. Now, I had to write 10 of them over the last two weeks, but mission accomplished. I hope to accomplish 26 more posts next year. Hopefully, I won’t have to do 10 in two weeks again.
I hope everyone has enjoyed what I’ve written. My posts mean a lot to me, each and every post. I love learning about people and telling their stories. My goal is for everyone to remember their stories, for them to be retold and learned.
One of the movies I watched this year was the Pixar movie, “Coco”. It was such a great movie. I had someone say to me, “but it’s a cartoon.” It isn’t. It is a heartwarming story of a young man who is trying to connect to a dead ancestor. I encourage you all to see it. It is a story that warms my heart.
This last post is dedicated to Aunt Mirian Bailey Wadsworth.
I met Aunt Mirian several times and truthfully, she was a kick in the ass. She was so warm, outgoing and engaging. I can’t thank her enough. She was my inspiration to start writing this blog. The last time I saw Aunt Mirian, her daughters had brought her and her husband, Uncle Milton, to Sacramento from Salt Lake to have dinner. She wanted to see her sister Maxine. Maxine’s mental health was already suffering but my sister in law called me to ask if we’d like to join them. Paul and I took our kids. I wanted them to have a chance to meet Aunt Mirian. This was about 2012, and she was probably 90 or so and Maxine 85. They sat next to each other and watched my girls sitting next to each other holding hands. I saw Aunt Mirian nudge Maxine and whisper about Taylor and Hailey. “Sisters.” Her meaning was clear. The girls reminded her of herself and Maxine.
It would be the last time those sisters were together. So, Aunt Mirian, here’s to you. May you and Maxine be reunited now.
Now, this last post is the story of two ancestors of my mother-in-law Maxine. They were her aunt and uncle and their stories are important.
First up, a gentleman by the name of John Butterworth. Mary Butterworth Bailey was one of six children raised by William and Melinda Butterworth. William was a large gentleman from England. Aunt Mirian says he was not particularly close to his grandchildren although she did remember sitting on his lap and smelling pleasant shaving soap. He’s swing them up and say, “upsy daisy” as he lifted them.
Grandpa Butterworth was born on September 1, 1852. He came to America with his parents at 18, after joining the Mormon church. In 1886 Grandpa and Grandma Butterworth bought fifteen acres of sandy soil on 20th East and farmed the land. They grew apples, corn and alfalfa along with the best tasting watermelons Aunt Mirian had known.
When their children were married, they were given a generous portion of the original acres to build a home. The old farm was divided into six parcels of land.
The oldest was Uncle Will. He and his wife had 12 children, including three sets of twins. Goodness, I really can’t imagine three sets of twins.
Next was Aunt Annie Butterworth Christensen. She had five children.
Next was Uncle John Butterworth. Uncle John lived all his days and died in the old home on 20th East. He was slender, genteel and immaculate. Aunt Mirian remembered he smelled wonderfully of shaving soap and after shave and his hair, iron grey and sparse, was close cropped and neatly combed. He never married, to Mary’s sorrow, because, she said, he was one of the kindest, dearest men in the world and would have made a special loving husband and father. Uncle John taught Mathematics at Granite Junior High School for many years, having most of his nieces and nephews in some classes at one time or another.
Aunt Mirian had him in 8th grade math and he was patience personified. At Christmas time, he had a huge box of chocolates on his desk and each student was allowed one as they left class.
He and his sister Effie went to Mary and Leonard’s house every Thanksgiving and sometimes on Christmas, too.
Aunt Mirian remembered one summer day, as he lay dying in his bed, that she stood by his bedside, so angry that a man who lived so fastidiously and spotlessly clean could be reduced to such a “fragile and incoherent caricature” of his former self.”
Aunt Mirian told her cousin Lee Butterworth, to put his teeth in his mouth. Shortly after, Uncle John gave a small sigh, and gently died.
When they were cleaning out the house, she asked her Uncle Will why Uncle John had never married. It seemed Uncle John had a severe case of mumps when he was a teenager, and he overheard his Grandmother North telling his mother that she was certain the disease would leave him unable to have children. Uncle Will told her that Uncle John took several young ladies out at different times in his younger years, but that he probably felt he couldn’t marry and inflict childlessness on any woman.
The next aunt was Aunt Linnie. Melinda Butterworth Pike was a soft spoken, kindest person Aunt Mirian knew. Aunt Linnie had eight children. One daughter, Minerva, died of spinal meningitis when she was twelve. Aunt Linnie told her mother that there were times after her death when she felt she simply had to go to the cemetery and dig up her grave, just to see her once more. Aunt Mirian never forgot that.
Lastly, Aunt Effie Geneva Butterworth. Aunt Mirian said her Aunt Effie had a very large bosom and was quite short. Her sister Mary theorized that these unfortunate conditions contributed to Aunt Effie never finding a mate and marrying. Aunt Effie wore her hair (Aunt Mirian says it was so thin, you could see her scalp in certain light) in little puffs and curls. She wore lipstick, powder and rouge. She subscribed to the “Pictorial Review” a popular magazine. Aunt Effie saved everything, always with the notion that she would do something with it someday, as soon as she found the time. This was a practice Maxine ascribed to, as well.
Effie worked as a legal secretary in Salt Lake. Aunt Mirian suspected that Effie was more than a little in love with her boss. But he was married. Effie would never have left that job but Mirian suspected she’d been fired. At any rate, she spent the rest of her working years at the offices of the L.D.S church. Mirian says Effie promptly fell in love with several of the brethren, one sided, of course.
She had dozens of cats and named each and loved every single one of them. Aunt Mirian remembered one that Aunt Effie called “Foot-foot” and would recount the details of this cat’s activities in the greatest detail.
She would mourn each cat’s passing with such intensity that even tender-hearted Mary found ridiculous, if not pitiful.
Effie would show up at the Bailey house once in a while to “spend the night.” After supper, she and Mary would sit at the dining room table, sewing and regaling Mary with every detail of her working day. Mary loved this lonely little sister and years later, when Effie was suffering from great running ulcers on her feet from diabetes, Mary brought her to the house to take care of her.
After the Butterworth’s parents passed away, Effie lived with her brother John in their parent’s home. In 1960, when John passed away, Mary brought Effie home to the Bailey house. Caring for Effie became so taxing on Mary’s health, that her family fought to have Effie put in a rest home. Mary dug her heels in and continued to care for Effie. Once Mary’s health had deteriorated, Mirian, along with her cousins Dorothy and Alta found a rest home for Effie, which she detested. There were no other options, her medical care too great for anyone to undertake. Nothing would console her. She missed her kittens, flowers and stacks of unread magazines. After Effie’s death, they found a cedar chest filled with lovely lingerie, slips, robes and lacy nighties, truly a “hope” chest and exquisite baby clothes, frilly bonnets and sweaters for the baby she’d hoped to have one day.
Because she felt her nieces had betrayed her, Effie became bitter and angry toward them. Mirian was grateful Mary didn’t live to see her sister turn into a wild-eyed, raging, impossible tyrant. She had to be moved from the rest home to a hospital. Her nieces went to see her. When they walked in, Effie flung back the covers of her bed, screaming invectives at them and shaking with fury. All at once, she sat up, her face contorted with rage then gasping for breath, she collapsed in a pitiful heap. The emergency crew arrived within a few seconds but there was no use. Effie, filled with helplessness and hate, ravaged by her old enemy, diabetes, died as she lived – alone.
This brings us back to the movie Coco. In the movie, ancestor’s souls are in jeopardy of disintegrating into nothing if there is no one to remember them. The movie takes place on “Dia De Los Muertos.” I, for one, wouldn’t want poor Effie or John’s memory to be forgotten, nothing but puff of smoke into the ether. So, my blog is my tower of ancestors, my posts their photographs. Here’s to you, John and Effie. May your souls forever enjoy your heaven.
When Taylor was editing my posts for the Jacques/Archuleta family, she pointed out the fact that I’d never written about Uncle Frank. Truthfully, I don’t know very much, but I am willing to share what I do know.
Uncle Frank was born on December 12th, 1915. Here is the 1920 San Juan County, NM shows he is living with his parents and grandparents. Uncle Frank is just a year and a half younger than Uncle Fred.
My father did not have a lot of memories of his brother. My dad was 6 when Uncle Frank died and truthfully, the only story I have of him involves Uncle Fred. I have several cousins who say Uncle Frank was in a conservation camp. Truthfully, I have no idea. But what I did find was the 1930 Census.
In 1930, the Jaquez family was living in Denver, Colorado. Uncle Frank is just 14 at that time.
Sadly, Uncle Frank died as a very young man, in the early 1930’s. The only thing I know for sure is when Uncle Frank was on his deathbed, they had called for the priest to come and administer last rites. He refused. Uncle Fred took a shotgun and returned with a priest. Thank God for Uncle Fred. I know it would have meant a lot to my family that he get his last rites.
To say that this is all I know feels pitiful. So, this year, one of my first goals is to obtain copies of his death certificate as well as a copy of his baptism record. I know my cousin Tommy has begun gathering a lot of documents from the church in this regard and thus I will post an update for Uncle Frank. God rest his little soul.
The 1970’s is the decade where the Bennett children go from young kids to teens. I wouldn’t care to experience all four kids as teens at the same time. The year Paul turned 13, Anita would have turned 15, Mary 17 and Carol 19.
Maxine went to work at Village Oaks in Lincoln Unified School District, as the Resource Teacher. She worked there for a long time.
Lloyd continued working at Karl Holt Youth Correctional Facility with the State of California.
In approximately 1976, Lloyd arranged for he and Paul to have a mini-boys only-vacation together. They flew from Stockton to San Francisco. This was the first time Paul had ever flown on a plane. If you’ve ever taken that flight, you know that as soon as you are in the air, you are landing within fifteen minutes. While in the air, there is an arc flight pattern. Paul was so excited.
They spent the day at Fisherman’s Wharf, then Lloyd bought them tickets to Alcatraz. They saw where Al Capone’s cell was and were locked up inside it. This is one of Paul’s fondest memories of his father.
Lloyd and Maxine took their children to the ocean a lot. They loved it. Often, they’d pack a lunch and make a trip out of it. Lloyd loved to sleep on the sand. It was a great family outing for them.
When Mary was 18, she married and subsequently had Ricky Brent Lamb in 1977. He was a first grandchild for Lloyd and Maxine and he was very doted on, by the entire family.
The Bennetts loved Christmas. Lloyd was a very thoughtful gift giver, taking time to make sure he purchased just the right item, just what his child would appreciate most. I loved the description of the kids laying in front of the fireplace. Lloyd was famous for making clam dip. It was a staple on Christmas Eve. He also made Crab Louie’s for the entire family. Now, if you weren’t inclined to eat crab (that would be me) he was always willing to substitute out the crab for whatever you thought you would like. Didn’t like avocados? Not a problem, he made sure everything was just perfect for his entire family. He loved to make homemade ice cream. It was always a great treat. In fact, they kept ice cream in the freezer most of the time and cookies in the kitchen drawer.
Maxine would grind her own wheat to make homemade bread. Paul wasn’t fond of homemade bread sandwiches at school as kids made fun of him for not having white bread. Anytime there was shopping to be done, Lloyd would take the kids to J.C. Penneys, taking time to make sure each child picked just what they wanted.
As the 1970’s drew to a close, the Bennett family found that they had expanded by three, Rick Lamb, Chuck Allen and Brent Lamb. They had more expanding to do in the 1980’s.
The next letter is dated November 20th, 1966. He starts out telling his parents about their new purchase…a new car (well, new to them!) It is a 1961 green Ford Fairlane 4 door sedan. It was a necessity because as they were headed out of town, their Pontiac had transmission trouble and forced him to stop where he was. He left the girls at a park to play and he “hot-footed” it two miles to the Hertz car rental. So glad we now have cell phones, and AAA. He returned to Maxine and the girls and they decided to head to San Francisco. “The girls were excited as we crossed the bay bridge and were spellbound by the city itself. We visited Golden Gate Park and then I drove through the park to the point where it meets the ocean. If you will remember, you make a sudden turn, and there is the ocean in all its glory.”
Carol was the one that delighted him the most. She was simply ecstatic and could barely wait to wet her tootsies. They walked over the Golden Gate Bridge and as they got to the center, a large freighter was moving toward the bridge so he and Anita made a mad dash in order to watch it pass right underneath them. They waved to the seamen and looked down the funnels as it headed out to the big Pacific.
He goes on to say, “One of my fellow employees who was a former tree surgeon came to the house and brought his climbing equipment and climbed our great big oak. The children were fascinated and frankly, so were we. It was quite a sight to see him go up the side of that massive tree and finally lodge himself on in a crotch many feet above the ground. We now have a swing like you hear about but don’t believe you’d ever have one. It’s about 35’ high and creates a massive arc that puts you high in the sky and gives you a fabulous view of all the neighbor’s yards. “
As you kids can attest, the swing in the oak tree lasted for years and years and delighted every child who played at Grandma Bennett’s house.
Fall was coming to a close and in order to prepare for winter, Lloyd made a fire in the fireplace that spread a lovely warm glow through the front room. After their popcorn and Kool aid treat, the kids lay on the rug with their tootsies being toasted by the fire and the firelight and listed to Christmas carols and talked about their grandparent’s impending visit.
These letters are so sweet, the lyrical bent to his letters always puts his voice back in my thoughts. Boy, I liked that man.
In 1965, Lloyd and Maxine make a trip to Washington, D.C. for vacation. They visited the White House and looked so charming here.
As the 1960’s come to a close, we find those Bennett children living and playing the life a lot of kids dream of: two parents, beach trips, trips to the city, an every day life.
The 1980’s start out with Wesley Ryan Lamb’s birth on March 22, 1980. Lloyd and Maxine couldn’t have loved those boys any more if they tried. The boys were a matched set, two little blond boys, happy and playful.
Next, Anita married Scott in 1984. This was the same year I had just met Paul and they were married in a meadow at Oak Grove Park.
When I met Paul on April 1, 1984, I’d been cruising on the Avenue (Pacific Avenue) and was with a friend who knew his friend. We stopped to talk to them. Paul never said a word to me, the entire night. I saw him again the next week and this time, we did talk. We hung out that night in the backyard of his next door neighbor’s house. The next door neighbor wasn’t home but we sat in the backyard and talked. At one point, I needed to use the restroom and he said we could go right next door to his house. Lloyd was in the living room and we stopped and said hello.
Some time a week or so later, Paul had invited me over to hang out at the neighbor’s house. When he needed something from home, I walked with him but waited in the driveway. Anita raced out the door and introduced herself to me. Apparently she just wanted to get a look at me. My husband had a reputation for dating dumb girls with big boobs. I wasn’t dumb haha.
Anyway, Paul and I started dating casually for the first few months. Sometime later, probably about six months in, Paul had been at a party and was drunk and angry at the next door neighbor. Lloyd called me at home to say Paul was very upset and could I come over there? My mother said yes, so I drove over. I calmed Paul down and at this point it was probably 1 in the morning and Lloyd asked if I would stay the night. It was funny because I don’t think Maxine was thrilled and Paul was still angry and insisted I sleep next to him on his bed. His father agreed (nothing happened, for heaven’s sake, haha) and Maxine was, um, formal the next morning. I explained everything to my mother and she agreed it was better that I stayed and helped Paul. I think both of our parents understood that Paul and I were serious and that we’d be in each other’s lives. I think that is when Maxine’s attitude toward me changed. When I met her, Maxine thought I was another girl with big boobs and so she was very stiff and formal with me. However, I guess I wore her down because I know she really came to love me.
After we’d dating for a couple of years, Paul’s parents were headed to Salt Lake to visit Grandma Bea and Grandpa Bill. Paul wanted me to go. My mother agreed and thus I went to Salt Lake for the first time. Nothing could have prepared me for riding in a car that Grandpa Bill was driving. I’ve never been so scared in my life and I’ve ridden in a taxi in Mexico. Grandma Bea’s relatives were visiting from England. Uncle Jack had been married to Grandma Bea’s sister. Along with Uncle Jack, were his son and daughter in law, Neil and Valerie. They were all very nice and just a bit tough to understand. It was a lot of fun. Of course, Great-Grandma Bea liked me, and was always on my side. In fact, not long after Dad and I got married, some ex-girlfriend of his called the house. Grandma Bea told her that he was married and Paul wouldn’t want to talk to her.
The following year, the Bennetts, Junior and Seniors were planning a trip to North Carolina. Paul wanted me to come, too, as well as Grandma Bea. We stayed with Paul’s Aunt Darlene, Uncle Henry and his cousin Rodney. All nine of us traveled in a van together for a week. It was a fun visit. It was the first time I’d had a chance to visit civil war locations and I loved it. I also was able to see Kitty Hawk and Jamestown, Virginia. I really loved that trip. I stayed in the hotel room with Grandma and Grandpa, haha. Paul stayed with his parents and Rodney stayed in his parents’ room. We really did have a fun trip.
I traveled a lot with my in-laws. One trip was to see the elephant seals here on the west coast and Paul ended up having to work. Lloyd said there was no reason why I shouldn’t go anyway, so I did.
Paul babysat his nephews a lot and little Wesley, he was so sweet as a little boy. He was very relieved when Paul and I actually married, because he wanted to call me Aunt Yvonne too. Our lives were filled with kids, from the get go. Besides his nephews, my nephews went with us a lot and they became friends too.
In 1988, we traveled back to Salt Lake City for Grandma Bea and Grandpa Bill’s anniversary party. My father in law asked me to help him plan the party. I had planned a few large scale parties, including my parent’s anniversary party, and Lloyd trusted me.
By September 9, 1989, Paul and I were married in Morris Chapel. My in laws had a beautiful dinner in the backyard on Valencia for the rehearsal dinner. It was a lot of fun.
We left the 1980’s with the Bennett clan just a bit fuller, and head into the 1990’s, where we lose our patriarch.
Here is a video of a very typical scene at the Bennett household on Christmas morning.
Mary Butterworth was born on March 7, 1892 at 20th East in the home where she spent her girlhood. Her parents were William James and Melinda North Butterworth. She was next to the youngest of six children and so tiny when she was born that no one thought she would survive. Her Grandmother North urged her parents to name her quickly before she died. She was named Mary for her Grandmother Butterworth and Arriminta for her Grandmother North. Mary Butterworth was told that she was so tiny her grandmother’s wedding ring would slip over her hand.
Her siblings were Annie, Melinda, William, John and Effie. Aunt Mirian describes her mother as not very tall and not very pretty, a mousy little lady. Mary Butterworth was more than her looks and Aunt Mirian says she was the reason everyone went home on Sundays to visit. Mary surrounded her children with unconditional love, even when they didn’t deserve it.
Mary was the type of mother who read bedtime stories to her children. I think she was my kind of mother. Aunt Miriam said at times her mother would nod off while reading and she’d have to nudge her awake.
She took excellent care of her children and was very particular about their hair being combed and faces and hands washed before they were allowed to go along to Grandma Bailey’s house. Mary was a mother who governed with strict obedience. Her favorite punishment for almost everything was “sitting on a chair” for a prescribed number of minutes. She was not averse to using a little willow on some naughty little legs, either. She would not put up with a saucy mouth and often prescribed “thimble pie” to those who disobeyed. “Thimble pie” as my own children can attest, was a quick thump on the top of the head, a quick little flick to let a child know that disobedience would not be tolerated. My mother in law Maxine prescribed to the same practice and now I can see where she got it. I’m surprised my husband doesn’t have a permanent dent on the top of his head.
Aunt Mirian said her mother wasn’t a fancy cook but could remember wonderful Sunday roasts and fried chicken and tender pie crust along with her sage dressing, a recipe from her mother.
Mary loved Thanksgiving, and everyone helped prepare the meal. Everyone had their favorite dishes that had to be included in the tradition. Aunt Mirian’s girls helped Mary with the preparations for last Thanksgiving of her life. Mary’s diary entry read, “In the evening, Mirian’s girls and Claron’s Besty came over and crumbled bread for the dressing. Kathryn came over after mutual. She ate some crusts, too and afterward we played Chinese checkers. It was all fun.”
Mary was an excellent seamstress. She taught her daughters to sew and embroider, too. She praised the girls when their stitches were small and neat and made them pick them undone when they were not. She encouraged her girls to write and they were allowed long uninterrupted hours in the back porch room scribbling away on a story.
Mary was a fine pianist and Aunt Mirian says Mary must have been so happy with Maxine, who was able to sit and practice piano playing for hours on end. Mary taught children piano for years and years.
Aunt Mirian says Mary was never robust and must have been rather fragile as a child. Given that she almost died, I’m not surprised. She was pampered and protected by her parents and her siblings alike.
Mary was valedictorian when she graduated the 8th grade. Aunt Mirian says she has a picture of Mary seated in the middle of her classmates with her serious little face, diploma held proudly in her hand and the picture speaks volumes of her dedication to scholarship. I have two girls who both feel the same way about their education. I am grateful for Mary’s genes!
Aunt Mirian’s opinion of her mother was that she was certain her mother never had an impure thought in her entire life and that she didn’t abide lewdness in any form. The only swear word she ever uttered was “de-amn” and always directed at herself.
She read the Church news from cover to cover every week. She upheld the Brethren in the face of Papa’s rebel comments, but her admonitions were couched in, “now, Leonard, dear…”. I can’t say how fortunate we are to have Aunt Mirian’s words of love for her parents. We have such a first-hand accounting of Mary and Leonard.
Mary believed a real woman never left the house without a hat, purse and gloves. Mary was generally even tempered but could be stubborn, too. Mary wore her hair, which was neither thick nor lustrous, combed back from her high forehead and twisted into a bun at the nape of her neck. Aunt Mirian always wanted her mother to cut her hair which was how all the other mothers wore their hair when the kids were in school. She refused.
Aunt Mirian only had one quarrel with her mother and it was one she regretted her whole life. Her Aunt Effie, who had lived with her Uncle John as neither had ever married, was of ill health and thus, after Uncle John had passed away, her Aunt Effie had moved into Mary and Leonard’s home. Mary was spending her days and nights caring for Effie who was suffering from diabetes and had large sores on her feet.
Aunt Mirian and her father Leonard both felt that Mary’s life was being taken over by caring for her Aunt Effie and Mary’s own health was suffering. Mary was growing visibly tired from the constant care her sister required. Mary refused to put her sister in a rest home and Leonard began railing against her continued living in their home.
Aunt Mirian felt that her mother was being unreasonable. Mirian could think of no solution and no amount of discussion would get her mother to agree. Mirian resorted to a threat. She told her mother she wouldn’t talk to her nor would she visit until her Aunt had been put into a home. Aunt Mirian hadn’t taken into account the Butterworth love and loyalty and stubbornness.
The days went by and Aunt Mirian continued to stay away. They were at a total impasse until one day Mirian’s sister in law called to let her know she had taken Mary to the doctor. There was a suspicious lump in one breast and a biopsy had been scheduled. Mirian raced to the hospital to find her mother laying on the bed, groggy but awake. Not a single word was spoken about their disagreement beyond Mary’s understanding and that she forgave Mirian completely.
The lump was malignant and she had a radical mastectomy that night. Two of Aunt Mirian’s cousins, along with Aunt Mirian, finally put her Aunt Effie in a rest home. They never spoke of it after that. It wasn’t long before the doctor said that the cancer had been in her lymph system and had spread to her lungs, that she wouldn’t have long to live. Aunt Mirian begged the doctor not to tell Mary, to let her go on thinking she would be fine.
Not too long afterward, on the morning of June 27th, 1962, on Mary and Leonard’s 45th wedding anniversary, Leonard called Mirian to say Mary wasn’t feeling well at all and she flew along the road to see her mother. Mary lay in her pink flowered nightgown, her head turning restlessly on her pillow. She looked at Mirian as if she were trying to think of who she was. Finally, Mary said, almost to herself, “Oh, dear, I didn’t want to go!”. She was quiet for a moment as if she were mulling over her last words, then said, “Please take care of Daddy.” She never spoke again. The doctor came and said she’d had a major heart attack and if it were his mother, he’d let her rest in her bed. It wouldn’t be long.
Mary lay in a coma. Her grandchildren tip-toed in to say their goodbyes and her children stayed by her side. Her boys were silent and perplexed, Maxine weeping next to Aunt Mirian while Leonard sat at one side of the bed. Mary’s breathing quieted until it simply stopped, as if she had fallen to sleep. Mary left this world surrounded by her family, wrapped forever in their cocoon of love.
Mary Butterworth Bailey died on June 27, 1962 and is buried in Wasatch Cemetery, Salt Lake City, Utah, in view of Mount Olympus.
Leonard was born on August 7, 1889 at the old Bailey home, 3578 South, 13th East, Salt Lake City, Utah to his parents Reuben Josiah (R.J.) and Alice Ellison Park Bailey. Leonard’s siblings who came after he was born were Bertha, Vivien, Delores, Erwin, Errol and Marvin. As described by Aunt Mirian, Leonard and other Bailey family members were fiery tempered, worldly, opinionated, mostly superficially religious, judgmental, proud gun-toting ranchers.
His father, known as RJ, was a sheep rancher and Leonard was brought up on a ranch. Aunt Mirian goes on to describe her father as charismatic, unpredictable, tender-hearted, violent, unforgiving, generous, proud and passionate.
Leonard was a larger than life character, a man of many talents and passions. He attended “North School” then graduated 8th grade and attended the University of Utah for two years until his father, RJ, showed up and asked the teacher if Leonard would be better served staying at college or coming home to the sheep ranch business. His teacher had replied that Leonard was very lucky to have a business to go to and thus Leonard ended up as a sheep rancher. He did go on a Mormon mission to the eastern United States.
Leonard loved to tell the story of how he met his wife, Mary. Leonard went to a ward party where he felt stiff and uncomfortable as he was fresh off the range and herding sheep. A slender young girl dressed in pink came and sat down by him and struck up a friendly, casual conversation. Of course, they belonged to the same ward so they knew each other by name and Marian says her mother, Mary, came from people who were genteel, long suffering, modest, accommodating, deeply religious farm folk. Marian was certain her mother was feeling sorry for her father and Leonard never forgot that evening. He wrote a poem, “Pink Lady” dedicated to Mary and he compared their meeting with two ships encountering each other “on life’s rugged ocean” and their subsequent journey together.
Leonard wrote many letters to Mary, starting in October of 1914. Aunt Mirian’s recounting includes part of his letter, “Dear friend Mary, you will be surprised to get a letter from one out on the desert lands. We are on our way to the winter range once more with the sheep. I am going to ask you if I could correspond with you this winter. Friendly letters help so much in more ways than you may well imagine, especially to one out in these circumstances. If you would consent to such a thing, I would respect you highly and appreciate your letters. Hoping that you will grant my wish and that everything is well with you, I remain your friend Leonard Bailey.”
His letters went from “Dear Friend” to “My Dear Mary” to one year later, “My Dear Girlie” and then boldly, “My Little Sweetheart.” The letters are filled with descriptions of lonely days, the rigors of camp life out with the sheep, changing seasons and finally changing hearts.
Only Leonard’s letters remained because he had periodically burned Mary’s responsive letters to keep prying eyes of the camp tenders off of the letters. They were married in the Salt Lake Temple and their reception was held at the Granite High School gymnasium on June 27, 1917.
Later in life, Leonard related to his children about his wedding night. It seems that his mother had given him a certain little self-help book for the newly to be wed young man. In it, Leonard said, the groom was counseled to be mindful of all the pre-nuptial trauma that his bride had had to deal with, parties, wedding plans, dress fittings etc., and in deference to her shattered nerves he should postpone any idea of consummating the marriage until he felt certain she was sufficiently calmed down and well rested. By the third night of their brief honeymoon, at a hotel in town, according to Leonard, Mary was in tears, her maidenly modesty prohibiting any questions as to what might be the matter and fears she had probably had about the wedding night were magnified by her groom’s apparent disinterest. Leonard would laugh at how he’d gathered Mary in his arms, trying to explain his seeming lack of ardor.
Leonard and Mary went on to have five children, (Leonard) Vaughn, Mirian, Claron, Maxine and Vayles.
Leonard was a man who would climb on the floor to play horse with his children. He had a quick mind and loved word games, mathematical tricks and story-telling. He was talented at drawing, art and poetry. He loved to sing and would sing “Oh, I am a Utah Man, Sir” with gusto in a great baritone voice.
He expected obedience from his children at all times. Lying meant real trouble, talking back was forbidden and quarreling when they were small would be punished with a spanking. He was a man who cared deeply about his children’s education and was just as likely to be in their corner as not. When his girls would go on a date, he’d tell them, “Be a lady, Tootsie.”
One of the stories that made me laugh was that Leonard and Mary had a pact between them. When one of the children were sick and had been vomiting, he’d be the one to clean it up as it would make Mary ill if she did. However, Mary would be the one to change every dirty diaper as Leonard couldn’t handle that. Paul and I have had the same arrangement. One day, Paul had baby Taylor at home while I was working. She had a messy diaper and Paul thought he should just cut it off her so he wouldn’t have to pull the dirty t-shirt over her head. I told him, “Don’t you dare cut that off her.” That arrangement served Paul and I well and clearly, Leonard and Mary were served equally well.
Leonard loved Christmas time and he would help twist red and green streamers of crepe paper that were hung from the light fixture in the front room. He always brought home a tree from White’s grocery and joined in on the trimming festivities. He could scarcely wait for his kids to get up on Christmas morning and if they waited too long, he’d go down the hall shouting that he was pretty sure Santa had come.
When he turned fifty, Mary arranged to have all of his poems typed up and bound into a book for his present. The book was bound in a handsome leather cover with “Poems of Fact and Fancy” in gold across the front of it. Leonard was ecstatic with his gift.
Leonard’s ranching days went through a difficult time and at times there was hardly enough money to keep one going. He never owned a car until 1951, when most of his children were married. He bought Maxine a new 1951 Chevrolet for her to drive back and forth to work when she began teaching school.
One of Leonard’s poems entitled, “To The Pioneers” was read into the Congressional Record in Washington, D.C. during the inauguration of the Bringham Young Statue in the Capitol rotunda. He was so proud of that accomplishment.
In 1954, Leonard suffered a serious accident at the Utah Oil plant where he worked. A huge scaffolding fell in a high wind and struck his shoulder, transmitting the shock through his body to his right knee. It was completely shattered.
Mary Bailey passed away in 1963. Leonard continued to live alone, ever stubborn and insistent on living his own way. His children would take turns having him to dinner. Some time after his wife died, he was crossing the road to visit a neighbor when he was hit by a speeding car. He was forced to stay with Mirian’s family for a year while he convalesced. He was a model patient and very pleasant the entire time he was there. One day, Mirian looked out the window to see her father using his walker to slowly make his way down the road. Mirian ran out and said, “Papa, what are you doing?” and he replied, “I just wanted to go home for a little while.” He was so independent he just couldn’t wait to get back to his own home.
One of Leonard’s favorite pranks to play on an unsuspecting child was to ask, “How do you spell your name, my boy?” and after the young man had replied with spelling his name, Leonard would respond with, “I would spell it Y-O-U-R-N-A-M-E”. I can remember Maxine asking the same question lol.
In 1979, Leonard was 89 years old when Marian walked in to find her father sitting in his chair, partially clothed and unable to speak. He’d had a stroke and was taken to the hospital then sent to a rehabilitation hospital. He recovered some of his speech, but it was clear he was living somewhere else. He’d say, “My, Toots, just look at those horses coming through the door.”
Leonard died on June 19, 1979, just two months short of his 90th birthday.
Maxine left a letter, describing her father’s funeral. She said 286 people signed the register. Vayles offered the family prayer. Leonard lay in his casket in his temple clothing, looking serene. The Bishop spoke of Leonard as a valiant and strong son whom Heavenly Father sent to earth nearly 90 years ago. He said Leonard had poked lots of Deacons with his cane, and made no bones about protesting what he thought was error or injustice. One of the injustices Leonard thought was of the church itself. They would have funerals in the chapel and the descendant’s body would be wheeled to the front and would have to leave down the same aisle. Leonard felt that wasn’t right and railed to have a door installed in the back of the church, for the body to be removed through. After some time, the door was finally installed, and the Bishop said it was the Leonard Bailey door and would be called such, forevermore. Leonard Bailey was wheeled through the Leonard Bailey door, to be laid to rest at Wasatch Lawn Memorial Park.
The 1960’s find Lloyd and Maxine along with all four kids living in Stockton, CA. My father in law Lloyd moved to Stockton first, began his job and lived in a small apartment. We are so used to reading Maxine’s words as she left a diary for every year of her life. She didn’t always reveal her inner self in her diary but occasionally she would let her feelings show.
On the other hand, Lloyd never wrote in a diary. But, we found some letters he wrote in the mid 1960’s to his parents. He wrote, “I hope that next time Mom goes to S.F. that she remembers her long “woolies” so that she doesn’t freeze to death in the S.F. cool.” That sentence made me smile. I can hear his voice in my mind. His letter details what it was like to live in Stockton in the mid-1960’s. He said, “The downtown area of Stockton is rather “ratty”. So, downtown Stockton was “ratty” in the 1960’s? How long ago was downtown Stockton great? Good lord, 60 years of a crappy downtown. Well, maybe someday it will get better.
His letter says the house he’s looking at is “2 1/2” blocks from Kelly Park which is a neighborhood development of Colonial Heights for which we pay $28.00 a year for it’s use.” He ends his letter saying, “… can hardly wait for the September 17th, date which is our tentative get together time” with Maxine and the kids.
On September 11, 1966, Lloyd says “It was so exciting to talk to Maxine this morning because it is our last ‘Sunday’ call. She and those dear children of mine should be in Stockton next Saturday morning unless something terribly unforeseen happens between now and their arrival.”
He was waiting to hear about his home loan, “Although I haven’t yet received final word on the house loan, I’m hoping against hope I’ll get the final approval tomorrow.” He did.
His next letter is from September 18, 1966 and he says, “I sat in our garden today, under the great oak that dominates our backyard scene. I had in my hand several bunches of sweet concord grapes and a bunch of Flaming Tokay grapes that I had picked from the grape arbor at the end of the lot. They were simply delicious, so sweet and so fresh”. They had such a beautiful lot. Those grapes were there for a long time. Maxine put in blackberries in the same area (just past the sand turtle she put in for the kids).
One of his last lines says, “The oak is massive and quite a sight. I looked it over today and have located the ideal limb for a swing – so a rope and a board will be required for a “young people’s enjoyment spot.” Not only did his children enjoy that swing, so did his grandchildren. Everyone loved the swing.
He’s talking to his parents and goes on, “I’m proud to say that one of the attributes I’ve received from both of you is to give my employer my best and not be afraid of hard work. I thank you for that heritage-you both are such hard workers and truly dedicated employees.” His closes his letter, “Loads of love, Lloyd.”
The next letter is dated October 9, 1966. He says, “It’s a beautiful Sunday morning here in Stockton and the girls including Momma, are attending their first Sunday school while Paul and I enjoy a morning together.”
He says “It’s probably unnecessary to say that I’m pleased to have us again united as a family. This business of living alone is for the birds. It was a real pleasure to have picked up my family a week ago last Friday and I brought them to our new home. Paul loved me all the way to Stockton and would reach over and hug me every few minutes. When he arrived he was harnessed to Maxine and he broke into tears when he saw me because he couldn’t run to meet me. Above all else, however, the light of my life has arrived and life again has a sense of real balance and purpose with her by my side.” Now, in all fairness to my mother-in-law, Paul took apart a water fountain on this trip (he was 3) and she was traveling with a three year old, five year old, seven and nine year old kids. I might have used a harness, too.
“We’re enjoying the new house immensely and have already cut new doorways and started making some remodeling plans.”
His update includes the kids, “Carol has had her ninth birthday and was most delighted with your gift. She loves money, particularly the green folding kind and has spent some of it on a basket for her bike and a new combination lock for her bike so she can lock it up when she rides to school.
Mary Jean is making many friends (as usual) and has been to several activities with friends, including a birthday party.
Anita is as mischievous as ever and full of ‘old nick’. She keeps us hopping, believe me, but she is also so affectionate that you cannot help but love every bit of her. I believe she has her father’s number and I’m sunk when she comes to me with a kiss or a hug.
Paul is his typical affectionate and helpful self and is constantly suggesting that we go over and visit grandma or grandpa. I’ve tried to explain the distance to him but this doesn’t stop his request for a visit.”
He ends this letter, “Paul just came in –gave me a hug-then rushed out again for more tricycle riding on the driveway. He’s a dear soul and so darn loveable.”
Lloyd gave Maxine the last page to add her thoughts to her in-laws and then at the very end, you can see all three girls wrote notes to their grandparents. These are so precious. It seemed California living was agreeing with the Bennett clan.
Here is a video Taylor took of Maxine and Lloyd’s yard in 2010. Much of it was the same and very well loved.