In 1968 Ruth Wrote About a Terrible Shooting That "Shocked the Multitudes."

"We babysat tonite so Diane & Dan could go out for a cocktail and see movie, 'The Graduate' at the Capital in town.

This morning D & D went alone to the beach for a few hours of walking and relaxing after picking up 2 rental strollers at $3 each for a week.

Dr. Martin Luther King was killed by a bullet in the neck in Memphis, Tennessee appearance today.  It shocked the multitudes.  Not good for colored equality.  Afraid of uprisings now everywhere."

That last paragraph was written in red pen.  My mother was probably quoting what she had heard on television about "uprisings."

Dan and I were visiting my parents, John and Ruth Kellogg, in Clearwater FL where they'd moved a year or two earlier.  Lynn was almost two years old and Cindy about 9 months.  You can see all four of us on a couch in the living room of the condo.

I didn't recall that we had seen "The Graduate" that particular night, but vividly recall the cocktail at Schraft's, a restaurant/bar in Clearwater.  We were sitting at the bar when the television on the wall in front of us broadcast the news and film about the death of Martin Luther King.  It was a horrifying moment, not unlike the assassination of John Kennedy in 1963.  You hear the words, see the picture, but it is too awful to believe.  

"Help Me!"

One day Lottie Meredith phoned Ruth, crying hysterically, "Ruth!  Ruth!  Help me - my finger is caught in the sewing machine."
Trying to be calm, Ruth said, "What do you mean 'caught'?"
"The needle came down right into my fingernail.  It's bleeding and it hurts so much!"
"Can't you just release the needle - turn the wheel on the machine so it comes out?"
Still crying, Lottie said, "No, I can't.  I'm afraid I will just make it worse."

I was home so Mom (Ruth) and I ran to the garage, backed her Packard sedan into the alley and drove the two miles to the my grandmother's two-flat on Iowa Street in Chicago.  We had lived there until 1941 when we moved to 1210 N. Euclid in Oak Park.

Ruth was able to turn the wheel on the side of the sewing machine to pull the needle upward out of Lottie's bloody finger. Then she had me put ice in a bowl so that Lottie could put her finger in it.  This was 1949, so Grandpa Meredith (James) had passed away.  Her son, Jimmie, still lived with Lottie, though he was out when this happened.

Was this just a random accident?  Not exactly.  In the Nov. 5, 2013 post I mentioned that Lottie was very poorly coordinated because, as a lefty, her teachers tried to force her to use her right hand.  They tied her left hand behind her back.  It didn't work.  She still used her left hand to write, but was forever after awkward in doing tasks around the house or yard.  It seems barbaric, but tying up the right hand was an accepted practice in the late 1800s when she was a child.

Oddly enough, my father, John, was the first person to notice that our middle daughter, Cindy Pellettiere, was left handed.  When he and Ruth were visiting from Florida, he started to hand food or toys to little Cindy's right hand - until we realized it!  That was in 1968 when she was about a year old.

The picture is not in Pieces of a Life.  Taken in June, 1949, it shows my brother, Ken Kellogg (age 17), dressed for the Senior Prom at Oak Park High, with his mother, Ruth (age 42), and grandmother, Lottie Meredith (62).  They're in the Kellogg living room, framed against swirled plaster walls that were a pale aqua.  Past Ken you can see the arched entry to the dining room and the Danish Modern furniture, quite stylish at that time.

Precious Post Card From the Past

In the last post, I mentioned finding another treasure in a large box of diaries written later in Ruth Meredith Kellogg's life.  This is it - a post card made by Fain & Corning, 1716 W. Madison St., Chicago.  I'm assuming that's the photography studio, which probably was close to where the Merediths lived on the near west side of Chicago.

The young Meredith family is shown in June, 1910.  My grandmother "Lola" (aka Lottie or Carlotta), is shown in a large, feather-trimmed hat and tailored shirtwaist and jacket.  She looks so much older to me, but is only 23.  My grandfather, Jim Meredith (age 29), wears a derby, bow tie and suit, quite dressed up for the family photo.  Their prized daughter and my mother, Ruth Viola, has a special hat and coat on as well.  She is just weeks away from her fourth birthday.

The back of the card, which is where the address is shown, has more intriguing information.  It's addressed to my Great-Great Grandfather, William Henry Olmstead on Rural Delivery Route 12, Saranac, Michigan.  Jim's mother, Ruth Parks Olmstead, was named for the wife William lost in childbirth at age 25 when young Ruth was born. (Yep, more Ruths to add to the mix!)   In 1910, William Olmstead was an old man of 87, living with family in the state he had always called home.   He lived another six years, passing on in June, 1916.

Though we don't see William's handwriting on the post card, several of his letters were passed on to me.  He has elegant handwriting.  I was told long ago that he was a school teacher.  Someone did address this card to him, most likely Jim, even though he had little education.  It was his employer, Western Electric, that helped Jim Meredith achieve a high school education, even holding a graduation ceremony for all of the employees who earned diplomas.  

One question entered my mind when I saw the card.  You too?  How did it end up with the Merediths when it was mailed to Saranac in June, 1910 from Chicago?  I speculate that the Merediths either reclaimed it when William died or when his daughter, Ruth, died in 1923.  I should mention that Ruth's husband, Nathaniel Meredith, had died in 1907.  He had fought with a Michigan regiment in the Civil War.  Nathaniel and Ruth were the parents of Jim Meredith.  (See the abbreviated family tree on the last page of Pieces of a Life to help figure out who's who.)

Seek and - Sometimes - Ye Shall Find

Finding the pieces of a life can be daunting.  Dead ends abound.  And then, with luck, something drops in your lap.

In Pieces of a Life, I relied on my mother's early diaries mainly.  One day this week I was going through a large box of diaries from later in her life, which should have been labeled "paydirt".  It turned out to be a treasure trove.

Hidden at the bottom of the box were two autograph books.  Both were from 1922 when Ruth Meredith graduated from Emmet grade school in Chicago.  On the first page was written her name and her address, 644 Leamington Ave.  I'd never had that address before!  The Merediths lived there before they moved to Iowa Street.  Autograph books were used in 8th grade so that friends, classmates could leave a name with a poem, silly limerick or just their good wishes before moving on to a huge high school, Austin High.  For instance, "By the river, By the sea, By the hillside, Think of me.  Your schoolmate, Sinah Kitzing" is one example.

Then two pictures fell out of the diaries.  The one you see is blonde Ruth at age 2 with a toy bear.  It is so thrilling to be able to see where they lived back in 1908.  Yet still another new-to-me address - "Fulton St. house" is written on the back of the picture in Lottie Meredith's distinctive lefty handwriting. Fulton Street is east of Iowa Street, near Leamington.

The figure at the top of the stairs could be Ruth's father, Jim Meredith.  What about the other picture that fell in my lap?  I'll use that one in the next blog.

A Tale of Three Uncles - # Three

 The picture on the left is Guy Ashford Wood Jr. in April, 1945 (age 28) on a 30-day leave from the Royal Canadian Air Force.  He was a Flight Lieutenant.  He's pictured in the backyard of his parents, Esther and Guy Wood, in Ann Arbor, MI.  He tried to join the U.S. Army Air Corps (later became the Air Force) early in 1941, months before the U.S. engaged in World War II.  However, Guy was color-blind, so was not considered eligible for service.

When he crossed the Canadian border to try again, Guy was welcomed with open arms by the RCAF.  Canada, as part of the British Empire, had been at war for two years by then.  Guy was a fighter pilot, mainly in North Africa, and was never shot down.

When on leave in Capetown, South Africa, he met his future wife, Edna Smith, who worked at the hospital.  At the time the family was told that Guy was hospitalized because he was hit by a car while riding a bike.  It was only months ago that my cousin, also named Guy Wood, told me that his father had been in a bar fight!  Guy must have changed the bar fight to a bike because some of the family, my father among them, did not drink, nor did they believe anyone else should do so.

The picture on the right was taken at the Wood's home in Ann Arbor in 1938.  My father, John Kellogg (age 39), and his step-brother, Guy Wood (age 21),  are shown with Esther Webb Kellogg Wood in the back-ground.  Each man looks like his own father, so appear very different from each other. Uncle Guy was actually my step-uncle.

Though the people in this post are mentioned in Pieces of a Life, these pictures and this story are new.

A Tale of Three Uncles - #Two

Here's the story of the second uncle, who's familiar to those who've read Pieces of a Life.  He's Jimmie Meredith, shown watering the grass and flowers in the back yard of the Iowa Street two-flat in Chicago.  The Peterson's garage is behind him and the gate leading to the alley is at the left edge of the picture.  He's near the Meredith garage, which is out of camera view.

Swept up in the tidal wave of patriotism early in 1942, Uncle Jimmie enlisted in the U.S. Navy to fight in World War II.  He had had a history of mental illness for 14 years, but perhaps he had been doing better.  Ruth is usually silent about Jimmie's problems in her diaries, so we can only guess.

Within a few months, Jimmie was back.  He had had a nervous breakdown and was given a medical discharge.  There were pictures of Jimmie in uniform, but they must have been discarded.  I have a memory of touching the white cap and the deep blue bell-bottomed uniform itself long ago, stored in his closet.

The Austin neighborhood on the far west side of Chicago was close-knit.  I imagine that everyone who had lived near 5458 W. Iowa Street a long time, as had the Merediths, would have known about Jimmie's troubles.  Perhaps that would have made it easier to be able-bodied and about 30 years old in time of war.

A Tale of Three Uncles - #One

Did anyone in your family serve in World War I or World War II?  My family probably started out with King Philip's War (1675-76)  and worked their way through the other wars, century by century. If you live right where the war is happening, you're involved.

The man with the "X" in the picture is Lewis Henry Weekes, Lottie Weekes Meredith's brother, born in 1888 in Chicago.  He is my great-uncle.  I don't know who other two men were. Lewis' brothers had both died in the 1890s as an infant and child. The only other family I know of is his sister, Lottie (Carlotta), and their father, William  The picture was most likely taken after Lewis came home from serving in the Army in World War I.  Somewhere I have a frail silk handkerchief from France that he gave to Lottie.

Needless to say, World War I was fought in Europe, starting in 1914.  There was mixed feeling in the United States about becoming involved in something so far away, but in 1917 America joined the war effort.  It was a far cry from King Philip's War in New England.  Once the decision was made, though, there was mounting patriotism and men like Lewis went to war.

Lewis was exposed to mustard gas when fighting in France.  Though he survived, he was never quite the same, according to Lottie.  Later on he lost his balance when riding on a wagon, fell and was trampled to death by the horses.