The Family Tree
By Terence L. Day
Terence L. Day, genealogist and journalist, is on the Washington State University faculty. He welcomes e-mail at genealogy@moscow.com, or regular mail in care of the Tri-City Herald City newsroom, P.O. Box 2608, Tri-Cities, WA 99302-2608.
A family's wealth is in an ancestor's writings
This column was published March 3, 1996
How I envy those whose ancestors left behind diaries, journals, even memoirs - published or unpublished.
My ancestors left scarce a written word. Almost nothing survived. The sum of written record from my paternal lineage is one brief letter written by my Grandpa C.C. Day around 1919 to Grandma, who was away at a sanitarium, receiving treatment for multiple sclerosis. It is, of course, precious. The original is in a younger brother's hands, in Germany.
Even family Bibles have been destroyed in fires, which seem to have plagued the Days.
On my maternal line, I am the grandson of an illiterate sheep shearer and barber, a man whom I dearly love, but not for his letters.
Yes, I envy those whose lives are enriched by diaries, journals and memoirs.
Recently, Elizabeth Goodfellow Engle, of Edmonds, shared some of her wealth of information with me. She is blessed with an abundance of historical information.
Her mother, Helen Taylor Child, who was born in 1901 in Dunlap, Iowa, wrote of her father's concern for her affinity for Horatio Alger books, and for Little Women.
"I possibly had my taste formed for good literature, thanks to the efforts of my father, who had read aloud to me from my earliest years ... I can well remember squirming with delight under the safety of my covers after I was tucked in bed as he read the story of the Gorgon's Head, and I thrilled with ecstasy over the travels of the Snow Queen."
Elizabeth also treasures the account her paternal grandmother, Margaret Eliza Florence Askin Agassiz Goodfellow, left of the Agassiz family's journey from Hope, British Columbia, to its new home down the Fraser River, in 1867. It was published as Memories of Pioneer Life in British Columbia, by Florence Goodfellow.
Florence wrote, "I can never forget our move from Hope. My father wanted to ship our belongings by boat but the captain asked such an exorbitant price that (Father) decided to take us all down on a raft.
"It is hard to get anyone to believe us when we tell about it. It certainly seems like a foolhardy thing now.
"Father said, 'Captain Irving thinks he has me in his power and can force me to pay his price.' "
He therefore hired two large Indian canoes, fastened them about 10 feet apart and fastened planks across from one to the other, and loaded household belongings, chickens, children (there were seven by this time) -everything on it ...
"Father, who was an expert either in a canoe or a boat, took command. He was in the stern of one boat and an Indian in the other, two squaws paddling in the bows. The other Indians helped where necessary. How we ever kept the children from falling overboard, I do not know. Dick was only 2 years old and was determined to cast himself into the foaming waters. He strongly resented being held by his skirts or any other way.
"Except for (Dick's) desire to jump overboard, it was a most thrilling adventure. The distance was only 20 miles, but rapids all the way. I am sure dear Mother must have breathed a sigh of thankfulness when we reached the first landing at the mouth of the Big Slough."
Finally, a quote from Memories of an Iowa Boyhood by David Trumbull Child (1875-1960), Helen's maternal grandfather. It provides a precious glimpse into the past.
Writing of the Iowa prairie, he said: "The prairie came right up to the town. It invaded the town. In fact, the town was merely a patch on the prairie. The cattle roamed the rolling hills. They came into town if they wished. You turned your milch cow out in the morning and you hunted her at night.
"There was cow dung everywhere. And horse manure. Your shoes, if any, were never quite free from manure. You always smelled horsy. All summer, you went barefoot and usually nursed a stubbed toe.
"You were ever alert for rattlesnakes but seldom encountered them. There were garter snakes, bull snakes and blue racers, all harmless. You caught the garter snakes with your hands and carried them to frighten the girls."
Philosophically, Elizabeth muses: "I really believe that the value of preserving old journals, diaries and letters, or the value in creating them ... lies in the fact that they are basically life affirming."
I envy Elizabeth her the wealth of life-affirming riches her forbearers left for her generation, and for future ones.
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