Wednesday, January 27, 2016

Roxana Howe Waller By Cordelia Waller Taylor and Pat Kinsella Herdeg


Roxana Howe Waller was my three times great grandmother. Roxana was the daughter of Seth Howe and Achsa Washburn. She was born in Pennsylvania in 1802 and came to Elba, New York with her parents. In Elba, she married Orrin Waller, and bore at least seven children, one of whom was our Martha Cordelia Waller Taylor. Roxana died on Christmas day, 1858--at age 56 years.

We do not know much of Roxana, but luckily, her daughter Cordelia wrote in yearly journals and did other writings, such as poems and articles. From her, we learn a bit more about Roxana. When her mother died, Cordelia wrote:

Dec. 29th. My best of mother’s was yesterday consigned to her last resting-place, the cold—damp silent tomb. Oh! my Heavenly Father, sustain & support us through this trying hour of deepest affliction. We are sustained in view of her happy departure from this world of sin and sorrow,& the hope of again being reunited in a better world. Oh! my God, how can I bear up under this terrible blow. It is indeed, the greatest grief of my life. Nought is able to sustain me, but the all-sustaining grace of God. 


Roxana's Gravestone


But oh! my dear, dear Mother, how dearly I loved her, how dearly we all loved her, & oh! it is so hard to part with her. That holy Christmas day was her last upon earth. Sweetly did she fall asleep in Jesus & was borne by angels to that blessed land where the inhabitants say not, I am sick. Oh! our hearts are all bleeding & torn, but we are comforted when we reflect upon the sweet expressions & passages of Scripture full of happiness & trust in her “blessed Savior” that fell from her lips in her dying moments.

And a later poem echoed the pain and loss of her mother:



My Mother’s Bible, By Martha Cordelia Waller Taylor

This book is all that’s left me now,
            Tears will unbidden start.
With faltering lip and throbbing brow,
            I press it to my heart.
For many generations past,
            Here is our family tree.
My mother’s hand this Bible clasped
            She, dying, gave it me.

Ah! Well do I remember those,
            Whose names these records bear,
Who, round the hearth stove used to close,
            After the evening prayer.
And speak of what these pages said,
            In tones my heart would thrill.
Though they are with the silent dead,
            Here they are living still.

My father read this holy book
            To brothers and sisters dear!
How calm was my poor mother’s look
            Who leaned God’s word to hear
Her angel face I see it yet,
            What thrilling memories come,
Again that little group is met,
            Within the walls of home.

Thou truest friend man ever knew
            Thy constancy I’ve tried
When all were false, I found thee true
            My counselor and guide.
The mines of earth no treasure give,
            That could this volume buy,
In teaching me the way to live,
            It taught me how to die.

How I wish we had that Bible with its ‘For many generations past, Here is our family tree.’

Roxana---Thank you for being my great great great grandmother! And, Cordelia, thank you for writing about your mother so that we can feel a bit of Roxana’s spirit.

Tuesday, January 5, 2016

Hiking Camaraderie By Tim Kinsella

Happy New Year!

As some of us try to eat healthier and exercise more in this New Year, here is a tale for inspiration. Thank you Tim Kinsella for providing it!

As some of you know I am in the process of working to become a “46er”.  To qualify for this title you have to hike the 46 High Peaks in New York State’s Adirondack Park.  Back in the 1920’s these 46 peaks were all surveyed at greater than 4000 feet above sea level (it turns out that 4 of them are actually a bit short of that mark but the tradition of hiking all 46 still stands).  I have been working away at this quest for over 8 years.  Many of the peaks require hikes of > 15 miles round trip and all require climbing over 2000 feet of elevation from your starting point.  Many friends and relatives have gone with me on my various hikes (ask Glenn Herdeg – he keeps volunteering to do the toughest ones with me!); I expect to become a 46er during next year’s hiking season.

On September 26 I had planned to hike 3 mountains (#s 40 – 42 – Haystack, Basin, and Saddleback) with a friend (Joe) from work.  The plan was to start from the “Garden” Parking lot in Keane, NY and do all 3 in a 19 mile loop.  We knew the parking lot was very small and often filled up early in the morning so planned to be there by 5:30 AM.  We stayed at a cute Inn about 1.5 miles from the parking lot.  As we headed out to our car early on Saturday morning we passed another car parked on the road with two people sitting in it.  The passenger said in a heavy French Canadian accent “are you guys going hiking today from the Garden parking lot?  It’s already full”.  We replied that was our plan but since it was full we would follow our back up plan which was to drive 15 miles to another parking lot and only do the highest of these 3 mountains, since we could no longer do the loop to get all 3.  We’d then come back in the spring during a less busy time to pick up the other two. 

As soon as we got this out the passenger said “we’ll give you $20 bucks to take us to the parking lot and drop us off.  We’ve come all the way from Quebec and my hiking buddy here will be at 45 peaks when he gets these 3.  We don’t have a backup plan like you”.  We said “sure, we’ll take you” and they hopped in our car and the 4 of us headed up to the Garden Parking lot.  As we dropped them off at the trail head the one guy tried to pay us $20.  I told him “keep you money, we’re all friends when we hike.  This is our pleasure”.  They thanked us profusely for going out of our way and as they got out of the car I said “keep your eye out for us on Haystack”, the one peak we were both going to do.  We all laughed at the thought of how improbable that would be since we each be taking different trails and we wouldn’t get on our trail for at least ½ hour due to the back country roads that we had to navigate. 

 Tim, Joe, Francoise, and David on Haystack Mountain


Joe and I headed to the Adirondack Lodge parking lot and left for our hike at 6:00 AM.  The weather was beautiful and there were a fair amount of hikers on the trail as it was such a nice weekend (BTW Glenn – it was perfectly dry!).  We hiked for several hours and were nearing the intersection of the trail from the Garden parking lot that would join our trail and lead to Haystack Mountain.  Joe was slightly ahead of me and as I came around the corner I heard him talking to two people with French Canadian accents.  As highly unlikely as it was we had come to this trail junction at the exact moment our two passengers arrived there.  We were all startled and we quickly introduced ourselves (they were Francoise and David).  David (or “Da-veed” as he called himself) said “it must be fate”.  Francoise quickly added “we were talking about how kind you were.  We decided that if we saw you we would ask you to hike the other two mountains with us and we’ll then drive you back to your car”.  We said that would be very kind but instead of driving 1.5 miles out of their way like we did they would be driving 30 miles round trip out of their way.  Francoise said “I insist” and so it was decided. 


Heading up the cliff to Saddleback – this was the scariest ascent of any peak I have done


We spent the next 10+ hours of the hike (total hike was 13 hours, 15 minutes), talking, enjoying the views, and exchanging hiking stories.  It was an absolute pleasure and when we finished the hike we were the best of friends.  We exchanged emails and promised to try and hike again together in the spring (even though Francoise would be getting his 46th peak the following week). 

A memorable hike all started with one small act of kindness.  


The view looking west from Basin Mountain.  Haystack Mountain is to the far left; Mount Marcy, NY state’s highest peak (which I have already climbed) is to the far right.  Skylight Mountain (which Glenn and Nick Herdeg did with me in the rain) is in the middle, back. 

Wednesday, December 23, 2015

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL! By Pat Kinsella Herdeg


Wishing all of the TaylorBaker cousins a very Merry Christmas this year.

2015 saw our group lose two of our own:
  • ·         Mickey Hawkes, son of Aunt Doris Taylor
  • ·         Harold Baker Taylor, son of Lloyd Taylor and Ethel Baker
Both will be missed more than words can express.

The Hawkes Family at Christmas 1957--Apparently another warm December like ours this year.
Aunt Doris, Charlie, Mick, Steve, Cyndi and Uncle Bud

Uncle Harold


As many of us travel by train, car or plane this holiday season, safe travels to all!

Aunt CB and Uncle Jack, in 1971, on the move!

Evelyn June Laufer Taylor, wife of Mom’s first cousin Bryant Taylor, has written memories of some of her Christmases through the years. First up is a story about Christmas wrapping through the years, and then a story of her and Bryant’s first Christmas together:


 Christmas 1972, Esther and Dick Lochner, Evelyn and Bryant Taylor
WRAPPING UP CHRISTMAS


Christmas package styles evolve and change through the years just as clothes, houses, and cars do.  In the late 1920s and early 1930s we wrapped gifts in red or green tissue paper, fastened the ends with Christmas stickers, and tied them with red and green twisted string.

One time when I was about twelve years old, I decided to be more creative in my wrapping, so I chose white tissue paper and decorated the packages with blue stars like teachers used to reward students for good work. I glued the ends and did not use cord.

My mother had been working once a week as a companion to a wealthy woman whose husband was Vice President of Eastman Kodak Company.  When she wrapped gifts, the ends of the paper were cut even with the box’s edge and glued – 3M had not yet invented Scotch tape. 

I am not sure exactly when the colorful, printed Christmas paper came on the scene – probably in the mid-1930s, but how precious it was.  We carefully unwrapped each gift and folded the paper to use the following Christmas, for it was expensive and too pretty to throw away.

After World War II, there was a welcome release from rationing and conserving.  With more money to spend, gift paper became more lavish and the packages more glamorous.  Ready-made bows in assorted colors and sizes could be purchased in packages.  Now, it was not necessary to tie them with ribbon if you did not want to, although curling ribbon was fun to use.  Neither did paper need to be saved, for it was now affordable and plentiful.  Scotch tape had become part of our vocabulary and a staple among our household items.

Red and green tissue paper still is part of my family’s Christmas as Santa uses it for stocking presents.  There is always a brown paper bag in which to save the bows (some habits are hard to break.)  If I am lucky enough to receive a gift, wrapped in beautiful shimmery Mylar paper, I carefully fold it to save for “wrapping up Christmas” next year!

OUR FIRST CHRISTMAS

Bryant and I were married in October, 1942, so this was our very first Christmas together in our own furnished apartment, which was the upstairs of a house at 168 Mulberry St. in Rochester.  The Drews, our landlords, lived downstairs.  The living/dining room extended across the whole front of the house, so we could have a big tree.

Since we had no car then, we walked three blocks to where trees were being sold.  Big ones were expensive, but we made the decision to "go for it." Really, $5.00 was a lot of money when you only earned $60 a week!  We dragged it home on the sidewalks, excited as kids  --  but then,  we were only twenty  --  not too far from "kids" at that.

We purchased two boxes of beautiful, hand painted, large ornaments which, 60 years later, are still lovingly hung on the tree.

Thursday, December 10, 2015

My Most Interesting Ancestor, By Ruth Taylor


My aunt, Ruth Taylor Maney, wrote this essay in eighth grade in Geneva, NY. It was based on her mother’s—Ethel Baker Taylor—notes and family tradition. What a wonderful image we get of Joshua Mott!

Joshua was born in 1791 in Coram, Long Island, New York. When Joshua was 24 years old, he married sixteen year old Permelia Saxton.  Together they had thirteen children, two of whom died very young. Permelia died in 1871 in Virgil, NY and Joshua died the following year.

My most interesting ancestor was great great grandfather Joshua Mott. He was a pioneer. He lived on Long Island in the year eighteen hundred ten but later he moved to Cortland County, New York.
As Long Island was near the sea most of the men were sailors. They expected to be sailors as that was about all there was to do there. Great great grandfather then had two sons and one daughter. If they stayed there the boys would surely become sailors. Great great grandfather didn’t want them to be sailors because very often word would come of someone being lost at sea and he didn’t want to lose his sons that way so he decided they would have to move.


A Page from Ruth Taylor's Written Essay

Moving was quite an undertaking in those days for the roads were very poor where there were any and, in many places, they had to make roads. They loaded their few possessions into an ox-cart and started. Among the things were great-great grandmother’s spinning wheel and a large brass kettle, articles much prized, even then, in the family. 

They made the two hundred mile journey in about two weeks. Sometimes they stopped over night with friends who lived on the road over which they were traveling.

When they got to Cortland County, the family stayed with friends while great great grandfather made a clearing and built the home. They arrived too late to put in any crops but it didn’t matter as they had provisions enough to last through the winter. It was a long winter and there was lots of snow but they lived comfortably in their new home. During the winter, great great grandfather cut down trees for fuel. Next spring he finished clearing the ground and put in some crops.


 Joshua Mott's Gravestone

He raised potatoes and corn. Cornmeal was used every day in some form for food. He kept cows, pigs, sheep, chickens and geese for meat, tallow, wool, leather and feathers. Every spring he made enough maple syrup to last through the year for very little white sugar was used as it was hard to get. They had no fruit cans to keep canned fruit in so they made preserves by cooking the fruit down until it was thick and putting lots of sugar into it. They kept it in large crocks or big earthen jugs. 

Almost everything was made in the home. Great great grandfather picked the geese and the feathers were used in making feather beds and pillows. The wool was spun and made into cloth for blankets and clothing. Some of the wool was made into yarn which was used in knitting stockings and mittens. Great great grandfather saved all the tallow and grease and helped great great grandmother make candles and soft soap with it. Once a year a man came and made shoes for the entire family. These shoes were supposed to last until he came again which wasn’t very soon.



Permelia Saxton Mott's Gravestone

Great great grandfather had seven more children after he came to Cortland County. He then decided he had done right by moving there. He was very religious and brought his children up to be religious also. All the children had the best education then afforded and each was taught a trade. One of the girls began teaching school when she was thirteen years old and another girl went from house to house tailoring which was very unusual for a girl to do. Most of the boys became farmers. Two boys went to the Mexican War and one to the Civil War. One of the boys who went to the Mexican War was killed.

They did not travel as much nor have as many entertainments as we do. It was a great treat for the children when great great grandfather occasionally took them back to Long Island to visit relatives. Most of the parties were among neighbors, helping each other such as husking bees, apple-paring bees and quilting parties. At school they had spelling bees and singing school. Through the winter they had many sleigh rides.

All the children helped. The older boys helped their father with the farm work while the girls helped with the house work and cared for the younger children. Two older girls learned to spin and weave cloth. The younger girls did not have to do this because by the time they were old enough to learn, people had stopped doing it and were buying more of the cloth their clothes were made of.

Great great grandfather helped to build up his community. Since he lived in a favorable location, people came to live there and so formed a town, now called Virgil. He was a very well liked man as he had a peaceable disposition and was friendly to all. He lived to be eighty-one years old.

The story of great great grandfather’s life teaches us many things. One of these things is thriftiness. They had to save everything they could for they couldn’t go to the store whenever they needed anything. I don’t think it would hurt anyone to save a bit even now when we can go to the store. You should also help each other. Great great grandfather and his family helped their neighbors with their work and the neighbors helped them in turn. Don’t always do as your neighbor is doing. Great great grandfather didn’t want his boys to become sailors as his neighbors were doing so he moved and taught his children something else to do.

When thirteen year old Ruth Emma Taylor wrote this essay for her teacher in 8B, Albert Einstein and Albert Hubble were doing research at the California Institute of Technology, Thomas Edison had just submitted his last patent application, Dick Tracy, the comic book detective, had just made his debut in newspapers, Al Capone was sentenced to eleven years in prison for tax evasion, and the George Washington Bridge opened.

Ruth’s world in 1931, so different from Joshua and Permelia Mott’s world, is much different from ours today, eighty four years later. Yet today, her words still ring true—be thrifty and help other people. 

Thank you, Ruth, for this mirror into my great great great grandfather’s life.

--Pat Kinsella Herdeg (daughter of Lucille Taylor, granddaughter of Ethel Baker, great granddaughter of Kate Youngs, great great granddaughter of Diadamia Mott, and three times granddaughter of Joshua and Permelia!)