Working Wednesday: When Our Ancestors Show Up in Unexpected Ways

On November 22, 1963, President John F. Kennedy, Jr. was assassinated in Dallas, Texas. What does this have to do with the blog theme I’m posting under today, Working Wednesday? 

A memorial to President Kennedy in the 1963-64 Yearbook of Fairmont H.S., Griffin, Georgia. Courtesy of Mike Kendall and the Griffin-Spalding African American History Project.

Well, across the nation, millions of students sat in their school classes, oblivious to what had happened until someone broke the news to them. And in a classroom at Fairmont High School in Griffin, Spalding County, Georgia, the person who broke the news was my maternal 2x Great-Grandmother Scoatney (Scott) Cooper's niece, Beuna Nell Crew.

Beuna Nell Crew in the 1963-64 Yearbook of Fairmont H.S., Griffin Georgia. Courtesy of Mike Kendall and the Griffin-Spalding African American History Project

How do we know that? Because in 2017, the Griffin African American Oral History Project interviewed siblings Cheryl Head Rashied and Raymond Head III. A recording of this interview and its transcript were placed online as part of a larger set of Oral History Collections held by the University of Georgia University Libraries.

Here’s what Ms. Rashied recalled:

“I think everything was all well in my world until maybe 1963, and that was the year that President John F. Kennedy was assassinated. And I can remember my biology teacher making that announcement to the class. And she came into the biology lab and said, "The President has been shot," and I thought this is the most terrible thing, how could the president of the United States be shot? And she was quite disturbed by this fact. And so I can remember quite distinctly walking home that day thinking that if this can happen, anything can happen, anything terrible. My world seemed to be changed in a sense. And maybe right about that time in 1963, we started to have this upheaval all across the country in terms of civil rights. But up until that time, my mother and my father -- I would say we were maybe sheltered from most of the woes of the world, and we had a happy childhood” [Time markers 00:04:00-00:09:00].

When the interviewer asked who the biology teacher was that Ms. Rashied had mentioned, she replied, “Ms. Crew…. Ms. Beula[sic] Crew, C-R-E-W. Yeah, she was the biology teacher.”

 *     *     *

What a powerful - and terrible and moving - memory to have. And how amazing that it 1) is connected to our ancestor, 2) was recorded and transcribed, and 3) has been made accessible to the public? I feel incredibly lucky to have come across it.

Photo Friday: Miss Crew, Master of Her Domain

Beuna Nell Crew, 1964-65 Fairmont H.S. Yearbook, Griffin, GA. Courtesy of Mike Kendall and the Griffin Spalding African American History Project.

Earlier this week I posted about my maternal relative Beuna Nell Crew, who taught at Fairmont High School in Griffin, Georgia for almost twenty years. Thanks to the Griffin-Spalding African American History Project Facebook page, its founder Mike Kendall, and his work digitizing Fairmont’s yearbooks and other school material from 1948-49 through at least 1970, I have access to (and permission to use, within reason) a treasure trove of pictures illustrating Beuna’s time at the school.*

Working Wednesday: Beuna Nell Crew at Fairmont High School

(This looks like a long one, but there are lots of photos!)

Beuna Nell Crew was the daughter of my 2x Great-Grandmother Scoatney (Scott) Cooper’s younger sister, Lula (Scott) Crew. She was a graduate of Spelman College, with a degree in Biology, and, like her mother – also a Spelman grad – she’d taken her education and decided to pour in back into her local communities as a teacher.

1959-60 Yearbook of Fairmont H.S., Griffin, GA. Courtesy of Mike Kendall and the Griffin-Spalding African American History Project Facebook page. (See Note Below.)

Working Wednesday: Beuna Nell Crew at Monroe Colored H.S., A Postscript

I love a good postscript to a story, and thanks to local historian Steve Brown of the Monroe Museum in Monroe, Georgia, I’ve got one to add to the story of Beuna Nell Crew.

The Passing of Lula (Scott) Crew

In my last post, I mentioned that my 2x great-grandaunt, Lula (Scott) Crew - sister of my 2x-great grandmother Scoatney (Scott) Cooper - was an educator until her death in 1936. What I didn’t mention was that she actually died at work.

The Spelman Messenger, where I believe I first saw her death reported, gave no indication of how Lula had passed away. Instead, it focused on her contributions to not only their school community but also to the Georgia communities in which she had taught and served. “In the death of Mrs. Henry Crew (Lula Scott Crew),” they wrote, “at Lithonia, Georigia, on January 14, 1936, Spelman College has lost one of its most loyal and representative alumnae.” They continued:

Working Wednesday: James and Daniel Scott at the Farlinger Apartments and Café

From 1903 to 1906, my 2x great-granduncle Daniel Scott (younger brother of my 3x great-grandmother Scoatney (Scott) Cooper), appears in Atlanta city directories as a waiter at a place called The Farlinger, or the Farlinger Café. Just a few years later, Daniel’s brother James Solomon Scott also turns up at the Farlinger, appearing as a janitor in city directories for 1909, 1912, 1913, and 1915. The 1910 U.S. Census shows him living at the Farlinger and working as a building janitor. So, what is this place and what can we find out about it?

 

Working Wednesday: Two Scott Brothers at the Arlington Hotel

Advertisement for the Arlington Hotel, found in the Atlanta City Directory for 1896, p.9. Archive.org.

 

One of the things I find enthralling about family history research is trying to picture what my ancestors everyday lives looked like, going beyond the dates and pedigree charts to try to see the world they walked through. So when I discovered that two of my maternal great-great-grandmother Scoatney Scott’s  brothers, James Solomon Scott and Daniel Scott, worked at the Arlington Hotel in Atlanta in the mid-1890s, you know what I had to do! Down the rabbit hole I went, and here’s what I’ve found so far.

To Spelman, With Love: A Lula Scott Crew Update

Fam, I’ve been holding out on you. I got something really, really cool – actually, something pretty darn amazing – in my email over a year ago, and I am only just getting to write about it. But now that I’ve had some brain space to pick up my research and writing again – taking vacation days is so necessary if you can, y’all! – I am so excited to loop you in. 

The Writing Lesson, by Morris Shulman. Citation Below.

 

Mystery Monday: What Did Borden Scott Do for the Panama Canal?

I came across something interesting while I was tracking Sydney Borden Scott through the catalogues of Atlanta Baptist College. In addition to providing all sorts of basic information about the school and current students, the catalogues also list what all of their alumni are up to during the year being discussed. And when the catalogue for the 1904-1905 school year was published, here’s what they had to say about Borden:

Catalogue of Atlanta Baptist College, 1897/98 - 1911/12. (1904-1905, p. 30). Found on HathiTrust: https://hdl.handle.net/2027/uiug.30112004585920

Yes: Scott, Sidney B. - Isthmian Canal Commission – Cristobal, Panama.

Census Sunday: Beatrice Harris in the 1930 Census

Seeing my ancestors and relatives in historical documents is really exciting for me. They were there, then, doing something! They existed not just to me and my family, but in some way, to the world. I love uncovering the layers of their lives.

The very first document that I found on my paternal great-grandmother Beatrice Harris was the 1930 Census, also known as the Fifteenth Census of the United States: 1930 Population Schedule. Taken every 10 years and released to the public 72 years later, federal census records are a great way to track families and individuals over time. At their most basic, they tell us where people were living when, who they’re living with, where they’re from, and how old everyone is. Depending on the year, we can also learn what they do for a living, whether or not they can read or write, how many children they gave birth to, whether they are veterans (and in which war they fought), whether they own or rent their home, what they pay in rent, what they earned in the previous year, and more. Treasure trove of info.

Here’s a snippet from the page listing Beatrice in 1930.

So what did I learn?

Jefferson County, AL

First off, she’s living in the unincorporated town of Majestic, Alabama. Located in Jefferson County in north-central Alabama, Majestic was a coal town just north of Birmingham, which was a huge population center and major economic powerhouse in the South because of booming coal, steel and iron industries, supported by a thriving network of railroads.

Ardenia (Jackson) Harris and daughter Lillian

Beatrice is 16 years old and living with her mom, 33-year-old Ardenia Harris, and her 14 year-old sister Lillian. Ardenia – my grandmother’s grandmother – is married and has been since she was 16, but her husband (whom I would assume is still Solomon Harris, as they married in 1914) is apparently not in the household. Where’s Solomon? Ardenia’s obituary notes that he died before her – perhaps they were in Majestic because he worked in the coal mines and something happened to him while they were living in that community? She was remarried by 1935. Or perhaps he’s elsewhere in the community – while I’ve had no luck name-searching him in 1930, I’ll go back and browse page-by-page to see if he can be found that way.

In addition to the three women of the family, there’s also a baby in the house, Robert Johnson, listed as Ardenia’s grandson. He’s listed as only 4 months old! (While this census doesn’t specify, we know that this is Beatrice’s son, my grandmother’s oldest brother.) So that’s three generations in this one record!

But wait, there are other people in the household, as well!

Four boarders, men who rented rooms in the house and perhaps took meals cooked by Ardenia or her daughters, are living in the home. Given the absence of a husband, it seems this is how Ardenia was able to support her family and make ends meet. Well, hello there, entrepreneurship!

Census taker's notes on Ardenia's occupation and industry, 1930 Census.

There’s 44-year-old Will Austin, a widower from Florida, plus 20-year-old Lawrence Roy or Ray, 21-year-old Luzzill Ross or Rass, and 19-year-old Marshall Evans, all single and all from Alabama. All were coal miners. I wonder, was it fun and exciting for these teenage girls to live in the same building as these single men? Or was it scary and uncomfortable?

What else do we learn?

• Ardenia is renting their home in Majestic, for $6 a month. This would be about $85 in today’s money.
• Everyone in Beatrice’s family is listed as having been born in Alabama, as are all of their parents. In fact, the vast majority of folks in this community, black and white, were from Alabama.
• Neither Beatrice nor Lillian had a job (at least one that they told the census taker about), but neither had they been in school at any point between September 1, 1929 and April of 1930. However, both girls, as well as their mom Ardenia are listed as being able to read and write. 

Interestingly, this is the only Census record that I can find for Beatrice. Since she was born in 1915 and census records are available up to 1940, I should be able to find her both in 1920 and 1940. But I haven't. Yet. But this just makes me even more grateful that I was able to find her in this one - it's an interesting snapshot of what her life looked like as a teenager, and it's a jumping off point for a few stories I'm going to be exploring later on.

Do you know anything about the family's life in Majestic, AL? Or where Ardenia's husband is? Please share! 

“Only Thing Can Find To Do:” Louis Shepherd and the CCC, Part 2

WPA Poster, ca. 1936-1941 (WPA Poster Collection, Library of Congress)

In my last post, I wrote about my maternal grandfather, Louis Shepherd, and what little I knew about his time in the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC). My next step was to send away for his Individual Record, held by the National Archives and Records Administration. Well, guess what came in the mail last week??

Yes, indeed - fourteen pages of information, though honestly a fair bit of it was redundant. However, there were some gems of information. In between his actual Individual Record (8 pages), Certificate of Selection (2 pages), and Enrollee Cumulative Record (4 pages), I learned that he:

-          was a beanpole of a 17-year--old, at 6 feet 3 inches and 160 lbs

-          was in good health – 20/20 eyesight, no asthma, no convulsions and - thankfully - no “fits”

-          got his auto mechanic training at Phelps Vocational junior high school (one of his sons also attended this school, in later years)

-          dropped out of school to seek employment

And it’s this last point I want to focus on for the rest of this post. Remember from the previous post that the CCC was established by President Franklin D. Roosevelt as a way to provide gainful employment to some of those hardest hit by the Great Depression: young men. 

Nine African American men in CCC employment. ( Public Domain: U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service)

So let’s explore what Granddad’s situation was in 1940.

A snippet of the 1940 Census for Washington, DC showing Louis Shepherd and his mom Katherine
(née Shepherd) Banks as lodgers.

• He and his mom Katherine are living in a boarding house at 152 D Street, SE, in Washington, DC. (Does this address sound familiar, Cooper/Shepherd family? There was a cute girl next door – I know her as Grandma Elnora!)

• Including this boarding house, Katherine has at least 4 different addresses between 1932 and 1940.

• Katherine is listed as a domestic, servant, cook, laundress or maid in every document that lists her occupation from 1920 on.

The Colonial Hotel, in Washington DC. According to a 1939 City Directory, Katherine worked here as a maid that year. (National Photo Company Collection, Library of Congress)

• According to the 1940 Census, Katherine is working as a maid in a hotel. In the previous year, she earned a total of $744 over 52 weeks of work. In today’s dollars that’s equal to about $12,636. For an entire year.

• Katherine is either separated, divorced or widowed in 1940, and has been since at least 1930.

All of this suggests that their financial situation was, if not dire, then not on completely solid ground, especially given the backdrop of the Great Depression. It’s no wonder that Louis would want to help out, especially if he already had his eye on that girl next door and wanted to prove his worth!

According to the new paperwork, Louis at one point worked odd jobs after school and even served as a newspaper boy - what I would give for a picture of that!! But clearly that wasn’t enough, because as his record shows, Granddad dropped out of school to seek employment. Imagine the competition - hundreds of thousands of men and women looking for work, everyone's situation worse than the last. He ended up with the CCC because, according to his file, it’s the “only thing can find to do.”

As a CCC enrollee, Granddad Louis earned $22 a month, worth about $365 today. To put that in context, according to this website, you could get a jumbo loaf of bread for about 5 cents, a gallon of gas for 11 cents, and a Cadillac La Salle for $1,240.

For the first few months, Louis sent all of his earnings home to his mom. When the new year began, he began setting aside $7 per month in his CCC savings account, but all the rest continued to be sent to my Great-Grandma Katherine. After his first term was up, in April of 1941, Louis was apparently still having trouble finding work, because he re-enlisted, under the same terms as his previous contract. But this time he didn’t stay for the whole term: in August of ’41 he was honorably discharged because he had found paying employment. Through a friend's connection, he would serve as an orderly at Weaver Bros., Inc, a real estate firm down the street from the Washington Monument, at 15^th and G, NW. And because he’d been setting aside a few dollars each month, he had a little nest egg to withdraw - $56. I wonder what he did with it...

 

Can You Dig It? Louis Shepherd and the Civilian Conservation Corps

One day sometime last year, my mom and I asked my Grandma Doris if she knew anything about my granddad Louis Shepherd serving in the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC). One of the first record sets family historians look for when researching male family members are military records, because they can be goldmines of information that shed light on the whole family. My grandfather, having been born in 1922, was of an age to have fought in World War II, but if he served, it is the World’s Best Kept Secret – to our knowledge (“as the story goes,” essentially), he was unfit for service due to his scoliosis. So, the question became, what was he up to in the 1940s? My mom was pretty sure he’d served in the CCC, but neither she nor her siblings had details.

Grandma to the rescue! (To those of you who think you don’t have anything to share, YES YOU DO!!!) She headed to her bedroom and came back with a thick folder, out of which she pulled 2 papers. One, a cover letter from the National Archives and Records Administration (NARA, the official holders of the government’s archival records), the other, a photocopy of my grandfather’s discharge paper from the Civilian Conservation Corps! Score!!

OK, so what even is the Civilian Conservation Corps, you ask? Imagine: It’s early 1933. It’s been a little over 3 years since the U.S. stock market crashed on Black Thursday in 1929. Banks have collapsed, leaving people without their life savings. Around a quarter of the public is unemployed. People are “rioting” for food, marching for jobs, and WWI veterans have recently camped out in DC to get bonus pay for their service. The nation is hurting and people are starving. And you are Franklin Delano Roosevelt, and you’ve just been elected President in a landslide victory on the promise of a New Deal package of reforms that will lift the economic fortunes of the nation.

 

A Civilian Conservation Corps recruitment poster, ca. 1941. (Public domain courtesy of the Works Progress Administration, accessed via Wikimedia Commons)

So, you propose and push forward a plan to hire the nation’s young men, ages 17 – 25, who make up a significant portion of the unemployed. You’ll put them to work taking care of the country’s natural resources. They’ll live in camps across the nation and plant trees, fix roads, build dams, restore historical structures, and take on many other projects that will allow them to develop vocational skills, further their educations, and – crucially – send $25 of the $30 they’ll earn monthly back home to their families. This, in a nutshell, is what the Civilian Conservation Corps was.

According to his discharge paper, Louis Shepherd served in the CCC from October 21, 1940 until August 14, 1941, when he was honorably discharged. He was 17 when he enrolled, 18 when he left. Unlike some of the young men in the CCC, Granddad served pretty close to home, in Cabin John, Maryland. That’s in Montgomery County and isn’t terribly far from his mom in Washington, DC, about 12 miles.

 

The discharge paper says that Louis was an auto mechanic prior to signing up (who knew??), but that his work in the camp was doing canal excavation. The company that Louis was a part of, Company 333 in camp NP-2-MD, was one of two who were charged with restoring the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal, an industrial waterway that ran parallel to the Potomac River. Running from Georgetown, in DC, to Cumberland, Maryland, the canal had been in use since the 1800s but had ceased operations after a disastrous flood in 1924. 

The Chesapeake & Ohio Canal in use, ca. 1900-1924. (Public domain courtesy of the National Park Service Historical Photograph Collection, accessed via Wikipedia.)

The 150-200 young men in NP-2-MD and NP-1-MD, just a bit away along the river, cleared away rocks, debris and overgrown foliage, repaired the crumbling walls of the towpath, resurfaced the towpath along the canal, and ultimately restored approximately 22 miles of the canal before World War II diverted funding and resources, leading to the end of the CCC. In their time, these young men at NP-2-MD – all of them black because CCC camps were by this time completely segregated – laid the foundation for later efforts that would see the land on which they worked become the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal National Historical Park.

By dionhinchcliffe (Cropped from Washington, Jul 26, 2008) [CC BY-SA 2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

When Grandma Doris pulled out that discharge paper for Granddad Louis, she opened a door that’s led to a whole world of interesting information, speculation, and things to research. It turns out that NARA has Louis’ Individual Record, at least 6 pages of information related to his service. I’ve sent away for those. It may have been only 10 months of his life, but what did they mean to him, and how did they shape his world?

I’ll be exploring his service and CCC experiences in futures post – especially when his Individual Service Record arrives! – so stay tuned for more. Do you know anything about his service, or about the two camps in Cabin John, MD? Please let me know below!