2023 #3 Out of Place 52 Ancestors in a Year

2023 #3  Out of Place   52 Ancestors in a Year

This was a difficult idea for a topic.  At some point it seemed like many of mine or Leroy’s ancestors were "Out of Place".  Moving to America from Russia was certainly "Out of Place".  Traveling across the Oregon Trail was “Out of Place”.  But there was a Lloyd “Out of Place” in Montana,

This is a very "Out of Place" for a member of this family.   Most were engaged in agriculture, primarily farming in Walla Walla County and eastern Washington.  William Ray Lloyd lived a different life than his parents and brothers & sisters.  He was a gambler and a cowboy.

William (aka Tony) Ray Lloyd was the third child of Albert Gallatin Lloyd & Lois Jasper.  Tony was born in Walla Walla County on 10 June 1861.  

In the 1900 U.S. Federal census, Tony is located in Fort Benton, Montana on the 27th of June.  He was single.  He was a boarder and the head of his household was a saloon keeper.  Tony’s occupation was a gambler. I presume he lived in a hotel or above the saloon.   In reviewing the census, Fort Benton was definitely a town in the “Wild West”.   There were several occupations of salon keeper and gamblers and people listed as boarders.  Tony was apparently living in a neighborhood of “ill repute” as the neighbor was a “whore house keeper” and her girls were listed as boarders.

I suspect that Tony followed the Mullin Road to Fort Benton.  The Mullin Road was connected Fort Benton, Montana which was the last point of steamboat travel on the Missouri River; to Fort Walla Walla near the Columbia River.  Fort Benton began as a fur trading post.  The discovery of gold in Montana and Idaho created a boom town of outlaws, merchants, madams and others seeking their fortune.  There were also trails into Canada.  

Maybe Tony left his life as a gambler, and returned to th life of a cowboy.  He was definitely “Out of Place” on the wide open prairie of Montana.

Takes His Own Life: 

 W. R. Lloyd Stabs Himself Fatally on the Prairie Near Hays

 Milk River Valley News, 1 March 1905

Malta, Montana

Word was brought to this city the middle of last week that a dead man was found one mile west of Hays, some forty odd miles south of here, and that the body was found on the old Mission road to Chinook, with two large gashes on each side of the throat, while an ordinary pocket knife was lying by the side of the corpse, plainly telling how the deed had been accomplished.  In the absence of the county corner, Justice of the Peace G. W. Vennum, left for the scene and by driving all night reached the place of suicide early Sunday morning.  The body was found by John Cochrane, while he was hunting cattle and the authorities were at once notified.  At the inquest several witnesses were examined and the body was identified as that of W. R. Lloyd, better known as "Toney", who had been engaged in doing some contract work at Zortman for Harry Kellar, and who was supposed to be on his way from Zortman to Forgart's ranch in the Bear paw mountains, where he had secured employment as a ranch hand.  Lloyd was 44 years of age and well known in and around the Little Rockies where had lived for some time.  His folks were located at Waitsburg, Wash., and two brothers arrived yesterday evening to take the body home with them for burial.  The coroner's jury composed of W. H. Granger, Jay T. Rhoads and Ernest Whetstone, all of Havre, brought in a verdict that the deceased came to his death by his own hand.  The body was brought to Harlem and will be shipped from here to Washington for burial.

TONY LLOYD FOUND DEAD - 

March 3, 1905

newspaper clipping from the "Waitsburg Times

Mr. and Mrs. A. G. Lloyd received word Sunday that their son William R. Lloyd better known as Tony Lloyd had been found dead on the prairie about 40 miles from Harlem, Mont., on Saturday, Feb. 25.  He was found by a stage driver and had probably been dead three or four days.  Two jagged gashes in the neck indicated the cause of death while nearby was a dull pocket knife with blood which would indicate that Tony had met with foul play or had committed suicide.  No particulars have been received but the family do not believe it is suicide.  Wesley Lloyd left for Harlem Monday and will return with the body, arriving here Friday afternoon.  The funeral will take place from the farm home near this city, probably Saturday afternoon.  William R. Lloyd was 43 years of age and unmarried.

Funeral Notice 

The originals are in the Lloyd family collection

Tony's headstone at the City Cemetery in Waitsburg, Washington

Tony's headstone also has the name of his brother who died in 1891

 

2023 #2 Favorite Photo

2023 #2 Favorite Photo

A picture of pioneers

The picture of Albert Gallatin Lloyd and Lois H. Jasper is one of my favorites.  The background is perfect  for this couple.  Albert came west via the Oregon Trail in 1845 when he was 8 years old.  Lois traveled came across the Oregon Trail in 1854 when she was 12 years old.   They are my great great grandparents.

They married in 1858 when Albert Gallatin (A.G.)  was 21 and Lois, was 16 in Benton County, Oregon.  Their first son, John Calvin was born the next year.  Soon after his birth, they moved to Waitsburg, Walla Walla County, Washington and took up a homestead.  

A. G. & Lois were successful farmers in Waitsburg, Washington.  They were the parents of 11 children, with twins dying near birth.  The family had a long history in Walla Walla County and were among the first settlers in that area.  

A. G. died in 1915 and Lois died in 1930.  They celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary in May of 1908.

I wonder if this picture was taken in 1908

I think the setting for the picture is very unique.   I don't believe I have seen anything similar.  Notice the ground cover!  

Because it is a favorite picture, I used MyHeritage colorization effect.  

It is definitely a favorite photo!

What do you think?

 

2023 #1 I'd Like to Meet

My great grandmother, Elizabeth Deborah Fletcher, is one of my ancestors that I would love to meet.  

Lizzie as she was known, as born 4 July 1858 in Covington, Tioga County, Pennsylvania.  Her parents were  John Fletcher and Deborah Theresa Ramsdell.  She was the youngest of their 6 children.

My first question would be to ask Lizzie where she met John Martin Shaffner.

John Martin Shaffner, my great grandfather  was from Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.  Which is 2 hours  and 20 minutes south of Covington or about 138 miles.

Lizzie married John Martin Shaffner on 16 September 1880  in Whitesville, Allegany County, New York.   Lizzie was 22 when she married and John, who was 25.

Why did they choose Whitesville, New York to get married? 

Whitesville, New York is about 1 hour and 10 minutes or 51.5 miles from Covington, Pennsylvania.

(Google maps provided the distance & time)

John & Lizzie's marriage certificate

The original certificate has a spot for pictures but didn't contain pictures

A company in Billings digitized the original certificate & added the pictures.

The original certificate (1880) is very large and very fragile.

The certificate was in John Fanoit Shaffner's family collection.

This is the only picture of John Martin Shaffner in the collection, but he was in a group photo.  The company was able to extract his picture from the group photo,

John & Lizzie had 6 children.  Their first child Willard Fletcher, was in July 1881,  Ettie Viola born in 1883,  Lida Lorene in 1885, John Fanoit (my grandfather) in 1887, Bert Lawrence in 1889 and the 6th baby, Walter Ruskin was born in 7 September 1899.

Lizzie died 17 November 1899.  The death certificate listed her cause of death as kidney trouble and that she was ill for 2 weeks.  Elizabeth Deborah Fletcher was 41 years old.  Her 6th child, Walter Ruskin was 2 months old.

The death information from the John Fanoit Shaffner Collection.

The Funeral notice in the Harrisburg, Pennsylvania paper

Lizzie was buried in the plot with her father in law.  The location of grave was finally located when I visited the East Harrisburg Cemetery.  She does not have a headstone.  

My grandfather, John Fanoit Shaffner,  was 12 years old when his mother died.  His collection of family history, including stories he wrote about his life does not include very much information about his mother.  There are a couple of pictures, the death information
and the wedding certificate.  There was no information about his mother’s family.  

I hope further research will answer some of the questions.

 

Memories 78 years later of a Veteran

 I had my day planned until I opened a tote of family memorabilia.  Apparently  the angels(thanks Dad & Donnee) have been tapping me on the shoulder again.  It is the only explanation today that found me opening this tote.  Nor did I intend to spend the day looking & reading all that was in it! It was a tote box that I have been wanting to sort, but certainly didn't anticipate that it would include all these treasures.  The tote contained ALL the letters my uncle, Walter F. Shaffer, sent home to his parents during World War II.  There was papers, letters and information I have never seen before.  Because my grandfather was a telegrapher for the railroad and used carbon paper; he liked carbon copies of EVERY document and he kept every document concerning the death of his son, Walter F. Shaffner.  Walter died 1 October 1944 in the battle at Peleliu Island, Palou Islands.  There are notice of his death from the Marines, letters of condolences from the Marines, a letter of condolence from Representative Mike Mansfield, railroad bill of lading of his personal effects, telegrams that his parents sent to his brothers, Don & Dean and letters from soldiers who served with Walter.  There is correspondence with the military concerning his insurance, headstone, letters from the funeral home in Dillon, letters to/from the military concerning his last pay.  There were touching letters from fellow soldiers that he had served with.  I haven't had time to go through the letters he wrote home.  (and I may need help with that project!)  

1st Lt. Walter F. Shaffner

(1917-1944)

26 years old

The telegram sent to Walter's parents informing them of his death.

Walter's parents: John & Della Kurtz Shaffner

One envelope contained  a letter from a Marine who was a friend of Walter's.  The letter was written on 24 December 1944 stating that he was sending a picture of his grave and the cemetery.  The picture of the cemetery was there but no picture of his grave.  I am sure that picture was saved, although I don't remember any picture labeled with the information that it was Walter's grave.  (I am sure the angels will direct me to it)

Walter's body was brought to Dillon, Montana for a burial on 12 October 1948.  

The Cemetery

The envelope states "photo of Walter's cemetery"

There is no name of the cemetery or location

President Franklin D. Roosevelt

In Grateful Memory

Walter F. Shaffner received a Purple Heart

America must never forget your sacrifice!

Lunch at Helen's after the Parade

This is Labor Day weekend, a weekend that I often spend in Dillon, Montana.  I was unable to go this year, but I am having "withdrawal pains".  And then news of an event that happened 43 years ago in Dillon started me thinking of how my family was involved in the weekend events through the years.

My hometown of Dillon, Montana has hosted an annual Labor Day Fair, Rodeo and Parade for many years.  It is a weekend that most ranching activities in the county would stop and families came to town.  Family reunions were hosted and it was annual trek home for many of us where we saw friends, relatives, drank a few cool ones, watched the rodeo, team ropings, wild horse races, wild cow milking,  4-H animals and admired the entries in the fair.  It is a weekend that the population of Dillon increases!  

I discovered that my mother's (Helen) first time at the Dillon Labor Day weekend was in 1946.  She & my dad were married in July of 1946.  Mom always said she came from a "dry county" in Washington and she never saw anything like this weekend before.  In those days there was a poker game in the bars, people walked the streets freely socializing with a beverage of their choice.  All of this was a new adventure for Mom.  Little did she know in 1946 how her Labor Day weekend would evolve and lunch at Helen's was the norm.

Helen Lloyd Shaffner 

1946

Don and Helen Shaffner-1946

  

It was typical that the Shaffner family participate in the parade.  Many of us walked either in the band or another organization.  If we were lucky we rode a float, rode a horse or created a float.  Parents and grandparents assisted in the floats!

Don Shaffner

Parade 1946

The rodeo in 1946

Sydney pedaled her trike in the Children's section

Participating in the parade began at an early age!

Mom and Dad enjoyed the Labor Day weekend through the years.  Mom decided that she would host their friends & clients at a lunch on Monday after the parade.  As a veterinarian, Dad was often at ranches working cattle during meal time.  It was their way of thanking friends who included Dad at their table for meals.   She knew that the restaurants were busy and there was usually only about an hour between the end of the parade and the start of the rodeo. 

Labor Day lunch at Helen's became a tradition.  Often the guests would bring salads, desserts, casseroles to help.   But Mom made sure there was plenty of food!  She always had a casserole or two and probably one in the freezer if needed.   Since the rodeo weekend was several days; Helen often had lunch/dinner for anyone who might be hungry.  One year we counted that she had 120 guests for meals during the 3 or 4 days of fair and rodeo.

A weekend I will never forget.  43 years ago!

I returned home for the Labor Day weekend festivities in September of 1979 with my 10 month old son Greg.  Nothing unusual about that as I went home every year.  I arranged for Grandpa Shaffner to watch Greg in the evening so I could join the festivities downtown on Sunday night.  I may have celebrated a it too much; because the next morning I didn't feel great.  I opted to stay at Mom's and stir her casserole for the noon meal.  She took Greg to view probably his first parade.  I was also secretly hoping to catch a nap.  I did fall asleep but woke to my mother sobbing as was Greg.  My first thought was OH NO...I let the casserole burn!  Since there were people coming for lunch after the parade, burning Mom's casserole  would ruined Helen's reputation.  (I didn't burn the casserole either!)

I grabbed Greg and asked Mom what happened??  And through her sobs, she told me of the National Guard jet that had crashed after it had "buzzed" the parade.  What???  My cousin Donnee and my sister  Gail, said they could see the pilot as he flew over the parade and that the jets were lower than the 2nd story buildings.  The Shaffner family always stood in front of the Depot.  The pilot crashed into the grain elevator at the end of street, 3 blocks away from the Depot. The elevator burst into flame as the plane careened down the street away from the Depot.  I shudder to think if the plane had been coming the other way.  There are thousands on the streets of Dillon watching the parade.

But where was Dad?  He had grabbed x-ray film from the Veterinary Hospital and rushed to the human hospital to help since he was on the Board of Directors.  I was a lab technician and I could help as we knew hundreds of people would be hurt.   I comforted Greg, and people began arriving for food!  It was agreed that I should go to the hospital to help in the lab while others helped Mom and care for Greg.   People knew Helen had food!  And they came!  Even friends brought rodeo contestants  knowing Helen would have enough food.  I am sure more than 50 people were fed that day!  

As it turned out, not many people were hurt.  As I recall; 2 were hurt.  The entire story of how the town responded to the crisis, is another story.  But it was an incredible experience and a Labor Day weekend I will never forget.  

Rodeo weekend in Dillon simply isn't the same without lunch at Helen's!

 

Mistake 52 Ancestors in a Year

 My mistake involved my ancestor, my Dad.  It also involved my sister, Gail, and a neighbor girl, Cathy.  This event took place in the late '60's.  Maybe 1968.   

The cows on the meadow before they began their climb up the hill.

Unfortunately no pictures have been found of the actual event, so similar type pictures on our ranch were used for the story. 

We were my Dad’s best hired help, he would often say that he might not have the best crew but he had the best looking.  Of course we were always ready to ride our horses and help.  While it was upsetting to my mother, who didn’t like horses, and she worried about our ventures in the Rocky Hills south of Dillon, Montana.  The Rocky Hills, commonly known as our ranch, had sagebrush, rattlesnakes, rocks and lots of hills.  A great playground for children on horses or driving various vehicles, right?  But it was our ranch and it was where our Dad taught us many lessons.  Mostly how to work!  Sometimes the lessons involved solving a problem.  Sometimes we created the problem!  We were just kids!

This specific instance of a mistake involved trailing cows.  Since Dad was a full time veterinarian plus owning a ranch, his cows were taken to another rancher for feeding and calving.  And since he had 3 available girls to help, who also liked to ride, it was an easy decision.  We were cheap labor while trucking was expensive.

Gail had gone with Dad through the hills in a jeep to survey the route.  So she knew the route. The cows had to climb out of the creek bottom up the steep hill in the picture below,  following an old cow/horse/deer trail.  Dad had told me in previous trails that just follow the cows, they know where they are going.  Dad was in the “lead”, meaning he was with the first bunch of cows going up the hill.  It was basically single file for each cow, heavy with calf, to lumber up the hill.  I was in the middle encouraging the cows up the hill, but they knew to stay on the trail.  Cathy was also in the middle, somewhere, following the cows up the hill.  Gail was at the drag or at the end of the line of cows, but she was the one who knew the trail!  When I got to the top, the cows were still on the trail.  But I could not see Dad anywhere.  I knew he was riding a colt so the alarm bells went off.  Now it was common for Dad to change his mind, so I tried not to worry.

The trail is in the middle of the picture.

I continued following cows, watching for Dad and checking draws & hillsides for a man & horse.  By the time Gail got to the top of the hill she realized the cows had split with the middle bunch taking a left turn instead of a right turn!  But still no dad.   Suddenly Dad appeared, a bit upset.  He had been waiting at the gate where we would leave our ranch property & trail to the first night camp.   Geez…I was following the cows who seemed to know where they were going!!!  

A similar day trailing calves in winter.

After turning the cows in a different direction on a hillside, we made to the correct gate.  My mistake cost us a few hours and tired cows.  Of course it was cool weather, probably December or January, so we rested the cows at the gate before trailing on down the hillside to the first night camp.  

But the cows were OK.  Dad was OK, his help was OK.  And we learned another lesson or two!

A similar type of day trailing cows.

Yes, Dad seemed to pick cold days.  We were lucky if it wasn't raining or snowing!  

Often we had to walk to keep our toes warm

Conflict-Purple Heart-Walter Shaffner

Conflict

52 Ancestors in a year.

This week's writing challenge is Conflict.  I struggled with what to write and then I opened up a folder of old, ancient certificates.  Which led to getting them scanned, but there is not a large enough flatbed scanner in Billings for several of them.  They are old and fragile and the store refused to run them through a roller type scanner.  Smart Decision!  

But amongst the certificates was the one issued to my uncle, Walter F. Shaffner, (my father's brother) who was killed in World War II.  There must have been angels on my shoulder pushing me to look at the folder after I posted a picture on Facebook of his headstone at the Mountain View Cemetery in Dillon, MT.  Of course there are his original letters to his parents during the war and I am still looking for the last letter he wrote home.  I had the articles from the newspaper in his file, but I had to locate which paper!  

Walter F. Shaffner

1917-1944

One of the letters he wrote home during the war.

My grandmother, Della Kurtz Shaffner, had 3 sons in the South Pacific during World War II at the same time.  She kept all their letters.

Walter was killed October 1, 1944.

The Purple Heart letter & certificate

Mountain View Cemetery

Dillon, MT