52 Ancestors 2021: Week 18: Crime & Punishment

I, like everyone else, probably have more than one ancestor I could write about for "crime and punishment." My paternal Grandmother went to jail a time or two, but, I don't like to muddy her name more than its already been muddy. Even my parents have been to jail for a weekend in their younger years for this and that. 

One interesting story I stumbled upon back when I first was playing with newspapers.com back in 2018...

This appeared in the Mt. Sterling Advocate newspaper on September 29th, 1891. Frank Bastin, or rather, Franklin Payton Bastin, was my Great-Great-Grandfather. 

Frank was born on August 5th, 1878, in Lincoln County, Kentucky, to Martin Stimmons Bastin and Sarah Jane Brown. The post says Frank Bastin was twelve years old -- but he had actually already had his thirteenth birthday by September 29th. 

I believe Frank left Lincoln County and never looked back. By October 17th, 1895, he married in Campbell County, TN, to Miss Ilena "Lena" Singleton. In the 1900 census, they're living in Laurel County, KY. Then they make the move in about 1905 or 1906 to Muhlenberg County, KY, where my Great-Grandmother, Edith, was born in 1908. 

I'm not sure if Frank Bastin left Lincoln County before he could ever go to court -- or perhaps because Joe Henry lived, they told him to just "get the hell out of dodge," if you will. Joe Henry, according to death certificates, lived to be 69 years old -- dying in 1941. Cause of death appears to be diabetes. 

Regardless, had Frank not left Lincoln County, KY... I may not be here today had this incident not occurred. Surely this incident and his leaving Lincoln County is how he met Ilena Singleton -- as she hailed from Rockcastle County, KY. Perhaps Rockcastle County is where Frank ended up after leaving Lincoln.. Then they married in TN and set up their first house in Laurel County.. but then continued heading west to Muhlenberg. 

Frank and Lena had eleven children together -- four that died as young infants. Frank was the first to pass away on January 15th, 1954, in Central City, KY. He was 75 years old and succumbed to diabetes. Lena followed him in death on May 18th, 1958, in Central City. She was 78 years old and succumbed to pancreatic cancer (or rather, on the death cert. "probable carcinoma of the head of pancreas.")

One thing is for sure.. Frank Bastin lived an exciting life; one that I wish I could hear more stories about, but unfortunately it seems, he took most of his stories to his grave with him. My Granddad (his grandson) didn't even know about him stabbing someone at thirteen years old, so it's obviously something Frank didn't like to talk about. Aren't those always the best stories for us genealogists? The juicy gossip kind. 

If you ever get down to Central City, KY; stop by Rose Hill Cemetery and pay him and Ilena a visit, will you? Maybe he'll be willing to share a story or two from his childhood or early teen years with you. 

Young Deaths of the Past, and Getting Today's Kids Interested in Genealogy

[[This is "Chapter 2" if you will, of my NaNoWriMo 2019 family history narrative.]]

How do you begin to get a kid interested in their family history? Well, it’s no easy task. I was one of the lucky ones in the fact that I got into it by having a burning question needing to be asked. Other kids — they aren’t that lucky. Most kids don’t show an interest whatsoever in knowing where they come from, let alone who they come from. A lot of kids aren’t even fortunate enough to know a parent, let alone a Grandparent, or more-so a Great-Grandparent. I’ve found a good amount of success in talking a lot about your family history and stories from the past. Growing up, I was always interested in what Grandpa had to say about his childhood, about his parents and Grandparents, and this was long before I had the burning question of “Nana, did you know any of your Great-Grandparents?” 

I grew up listening to my Mom talking about her Great-Grandmother Thompson and her Great-Grandfather LaRue. I think of some of these stories on the daily still and it’s almost been twenty years since I first started hearing them. I talk about my own Great-Grandmother almost daily and she’s been gone for eighteen years now. It doesn’t seem like it’s been that long, almost feels like it’s impossible that it’s been that long but… it has been. Soon enough, it’ll be twenty years, and then forty, and so on. Eventually, I might be one of the only ones to remember my Nana S. And just that thought alone makes me want to research as much as I can on my family history. Some of the names of ancestors I find… I might be the first person who’s thought of them in generations. Especially the young children that passed away that were older or younger siblings to one of my ancestors. 

Like my Great-Grandmother’s older sister, for example. Vannie Louise Thompson was born November 24th, 1911, and died on November 19th, 1915, short of her fourth birthday. If it wasn’t for a simple tombstone for Vannie in the Gibson Family Cemetery out in Corydon, which is one of my favorite places in the world, then poor little Vannie may have never been remembered by anyone ever again. Her parents are gone now, and her siblings are long gone. There’s nobody alive that remembers Vannie except for those of us who do family history. There are no pictures of her. All that we know of Vannie is what is on her death certificate that was filled out by her Uncle, Sam Thompson. He listed Vannie’s birth year as about 1910 — she was really born in 1911. 

The date of death was November 19th, 1915. The death occurred in the Smith Mills precinct of the county and that makes sense as that’s where the family had lived for quite sometime. Little Vannie died of membranous croup that lasted for two days before she succumbed to the illness. Her parents were listed as Johnnie Thompson and Jan Ella Nally (actually Janella). She was buried on the very same day she died… probably in hopes that the quick burial would stop the croup from spreading to the other children. 

In the Gibson Cemetery is a small tombstone for Vannie that only states — VANNIE. DAU OF JOHN & JANELLA THOMPSON. 1911-1915.

Vannie’s life was summed up in the space of a dash between 1911 and 1915. It makes me wonder what type of a child was Vannie? Did she have any hobbies at almost four years old? Was she looking forward to her fourth birthday on November 24th? Did she have any favorite toys? Did she have a favorite sibling? At that point she had three brothers and two sisters. What was her relationship like with them? What color hair did she have? What color eyes? Death certificates don’t divulge as much information as I wish they would. There aren’t cemetery records, either, with this type of information, not for a death occurring so long ago and especially not for a small family cemetery out in the rural part of the county. If it wasn’t for family historians like myself, Vannie would have been long forgotten years ago. But thanks to websites like Ancestry and Find-a-Grave, hopefully the memory of Vannie will live on. Albeit I never met her, she will never be forgotten. 

What’s even worse are the infants that never even stood a fighting chance. My Grandpa Jady had two siblings that died at birth — an older sister and a younger brother. The first child of Dick and Lorene Blanford was a stillborn baby in December of 1931. Nobody had known more than that, really, until I ordered off for what is called a stillbirth certificate. My whole life, I grew up hearing Grandpa talk about his eldest sibling having been stillborn and they buried the baby in a shoe box in the Smith Mills Cemetery underneath a large tree. I’ve been to Smith Mills Cemetery numerous times and I have my suspicions which tree he’s talking about, but we’ll never know for sure. I feel like there should be some sort of tombstones or plaque marking her final resting place but, there probably never will be unless I take the initiative to put it there. 

Anyway — when I ordered off for the stillbirth certificate, I learned a lot more about Baby Blanford. She was born and deceased on December 14th, 1931. The certificate states that the mother was about six months along — so the baby was without a doubt premature and died because of this. We’re unsure as to what caused the early birth, it could have just been something as simple as it was her first pregnancy. Perhaps her body just didn’t cooperate with the pregnancy. Most importantly, we learned it was a baby girl. Not much more information was provided. No burial location, but we had already acquired that from family stories. Grandpa said his mother really hated talking about the pregnancies she lost. Especially the first baby girl. 

In 1950, Lorene became pregnant again. By this time, this would have been her tenth pregnancy. On June 16th, 1950, Lorene gave birth to a stillborn baby boy and he was promptly buried at the back of the Saint Louis Catholic Cemetery here in Henderson. Upon the death of Lorene and Dick in 1991 and 1995 respectively, the baby boy was exhumed from the back of the cemetery and moved to the front to be re-interred by his parents. I wish they could have done that with the baby girl they lost in 1931 but, I’m sure they had their reasons as to why they couldn’t. I believe the baby born in 1950 was a full-term birth but, the funny thing is, none of us can find a death or stillbirth certificate for him. There isn’t even a birth index listing for him. It’s like he never existed at all and was a figment of someone’s imagination but — all of the siblings (older than the deceased baby boy) remember their Mom being pregnant. 

The infant boy has a simple tombstone that reads — INFANT SON OF R.J. & LORENE BLANFORD. JUNE 16 1950. 

The life of the stillborn baby boy is summed up in just those few words. But I’m sure his impact was much greater than that. But without family historians like myself, he would be long forgotten about by now as a lot of Grandpa’s siblings have passed, including him. 

52 Ancestors 2021: Week 1: Beginnings

[[ This is the introduction part of my 2019 NaNoWriMo project. I thought I'd share here with everyone. ]]

((This post is also being used for "Beginnings" challenge in the 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks -- Week one, 2021))

Getting Started

Genealogy, for me, started at a happenchance. I was seven years old, the year was 2000, and I had the brilliant question of, “Nana — did you know any of your Great-Grandparents?” You see, my Nana was my Great-Grandmother…and from what I had gathered at that young age, a general consensus was that not many people were fortunate enough to meet their Great-Grandparents. It was "kind of rarity," as my Mom would put it.

I had known another Great-Grandparent when I was very little but by the time I was seven, I didn’t have many vivid memories of him left. My Mom was fortunate enough to meet three of her Great-Grandparents and even a step-Great-Grandmother. She had very vivid memories of two of her Great-Grandparents, especially. My Dad… he hadn’t known any of his Great-Grandparents. He was lucky to just know his Grandparents considering he was always being bounced around, living city to city as he grew up. 

So the burning question of — Nana, did you know any of your Great-Grandparents — my Nana, unfortunately, couldn’t answer the question. She’d been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s just a few years previous and it was definitely taking a toll on her mental state (or rather, whatever it was, was taking a toll on her mental state). So I asked my Grandma, my Nana’s daughter, if she knew if Nana had known any Great-Grandparents… well, she didn’t know. So I asked her, how could we answer the question? Who could we ask who would know? 

Well, I’m not sure who told my Grandma about genealogy - I have the suspicion that it was probably my Great-Uncle Charles, but I could be wrong. My Great-Uncle had done a lot of the Blanford family tree probably twenty years previous so that’s why he comes to mind but it could have been anyone, truthfully. But genealogy is exactly what we took to, to figure out the answer to the question.

We made trips almost everyday to the Henderson County Public Library, up to their genealogy department. The room quickly became one of my favorite places in the world — the smell became one of my favorite smells — the sounds of people shuffling through books, a definite favorite sound. 

We took to census records, birth indexes, marriages, and deaths as well. It didn’t take us too long, maybe a year or so, to figure out that…no, my Great-Grandmother had never met any of her Great-Grandparents. They all died long before she was born. My Grandma even realized she’d known one of her Great-Grandmother’s…but really didn’t have any vivid memories of her, hence why she’d forgotten really ever meeting her.

By this point, though, a year had gone by and my Nana had passed away on October 2nd, 2001, at the age of 85. She was predeceased by her parents, husband, a daughter, and two sons. She left behind three daughters and a passel of grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Still living was her elder sister and her younger brother. Numerous nieces, nephews, and cousins too.

I have no doubt that my Grandmother conferred with my Nana's eldest sister about genealogy - but how much information she was able to glean beats me. My Nana's eldest sister was Mary Lilly, and Mary only had one daughter - Noretta. I do believe Grandma was able to get some good family tree information from her. 

Even though Nana was gone, the genealogy bug had without a doubt sunk its teeth deep into me. I was absolutely obsessed with working on my family tree and learning anything and everything I could about each and every ancestor. I worked mainly on my Mom’s side for the first several years because my Dad really didn’t know much about his side of the family and there weren’t many people willing to talk to me about it. Whereas my Mom’s side of the family was very close-knit and my Grandparents knew lots of stuff about their family. Also a plus side— my mother’s father’s side was Catholic and I would soon learn that Catholic’s keep AMAZING records. 

My Dad’s side I was able to piece a little bit together when I was around ten or so years old. My Dad called his Dad’s oldest living sibling - my Great-Aunt Mary - and we were able to go visit her and she gave me some great information on their side of the family. We went out to a couple cemeteries and I got to see the graves of my Great-Grandfather Clint, my Great-Great-Grandparents, French & Lillie, and even my Great-Great-Great-Grandparents, Phylander & Lucy. I felt like a little kid in a candy store… or in a Toys r’ Us at Christmastime. 

Genealogy got a little easier as I got a bit older. I was able to get a paid subscription to Ancestry in 2013 and that unlocked a world of documents and records that my library didn’t have — as Aladdin would say, it was a whole new world…and trust me, I was enamored with genealogy all over again. Thanks to having Missouri records at my fingertips, I was able to get further back on my paternal Grandmother’s line. I broke down a lot of brick-walls, but slowly and surely, things simmered down. 

Until I did my DNA in April of 2018. Doing my DNA helped me breakdown even more brick-walls that I never thought I’d get past. I am definitely going to talk about those over the course of this narrative and the process of how DNA did break those walls down, not just the end results. I plan to also talk more about those initial genealogy hunts in the library, about my success stories in my own family tree, and also my friends’ family trees. I’ve also had a lot of success in working with their DNA and even found some biological family members they didn’t know about along the way. 

So hopefully you all will follow along in my journey and perhaps you’ll end up with the genealogy bug when this is all said and done. One can only hope, ;).