Sunday, December 1, 2002

Heycuz! Merry Christimas


Merry Christmas
Its been quite a year for us at Heycuz with new members and renewing lots of old connections. Personally I've been so busy this month that I haven't been able to write my column for this month. My son Lucas and I were working on his letter to Santa Claus, so I thought that I'd add my own letter to the Big Guy and use it for my Christmas column…
Dear Santa,
Its been a long, long time since I wrote to you. I don't know why I didn't think of writing to you before as you have always filled my stocking with all of my desires when I was a child. Thank you for everything, by the way. This year though, I have some specific requests that it seems only your magic can fulfill. I've been a very, very good girl this year so I hope that you can get me some items on my Christmas List.
First, I am leaving some family group sheets in my stocking. Please fill them out. I'd like to know the parents, grandparents, and children (with "proof") of Nancy Elizabeth THORN, John HARRISON and Nancy DOBBS, Thomas H. RENNIE and Mary A. STRATTON (what does the H. and A stand for?), Jesse MARTIN and Ann BESWICK, Joseph and Mary (what's her maiden name?) HARP, John and Tracy (?) DICKSON, Samuel WILLIAMS and Mary WOODS, David and Mary HUTCHESON, Henry CORNELL, Elisha ESTES, William BELL, John GOLDING, Charlotty GOLDING, Joseph ALLEN and Joanna WHITEHORN, Richard GOFF, Nathaniel TOOGOOD, Cassandra TUCKER, Elizabeth GARNETT, Robert FORSTER, Frances WHEELER and Margery OWENS, Richard BOWEN and Mary CLIFTON, Harry BROOKS, Alexander and Rachel (?) HARBISON, Mary Ann WRIGHT, Thomas ARMSTRONG and Mary BROWN, Hugh and Jane (?) ALEXANDER, Elizabeth MALLORY, John and Sarah DOLLINS, Robert HILL and Martha WALKER, Samuel HARRIS and Rebecca EVANS, Phillip and Mary BARRICK, Joseph BUCHANAN and Ann WILSON, David and Nancy (?) DUNCAN, Jeremiah C. BRYANT and Sarah Jane COBB, Martha RAINEY and William GREEN, and Owen SULLIVAN and Elizabeth LAMPLEY (what is her real death date), Mary Elizabeth ROBINSON(?), Jacob and Mary (?) LAMPLEY, Artimese GREEN, Virinda ESTES (and what happened to her), and any I might have missed.
Second, I'd like to find under my tree a server for the Heycuz group with its own software that will allow real-time input from members of the group. That way members can add and/or correct their own family lines by just signing on. This would free-up my time so I can spend more time doing research. Also, on that server, I'd like an extensive library of original documents of every deed, will, probate, census, book, diary--in short every document that exists--that carries the name of one of my ancestors. The server will have to be very fast--DSL please--so the pages don't take long to load.
Third, I would like the original photographs and tintypes of any picture that was taken of my ancestors. I am missing the original photograph of William and Artimese (Green) Sullivan; I have no photograph of any Estes ancestor;
Fourth, hurry down the chimney with a full-paid trip back to Tennessee so I can visit my new-found cousins and the birthplace of my ancestors.
Fifth, wrap up a top-of-the line digital camera that prints professional quality photographs so I can add them directly into my computer and onto the website.
Sixth, I'd like a hard copy of every document, email letter, or note in an organized file system in a new office just for me, in my new home (which we're working on).
Seventh, its my wish that all of my software does what I need it to do, not just what some programmer thought was important. For instance, I'd like to be able to output my website in hours instead of days; I'd like to be able to Automatically update every Old document--whether it's on my computer, a CD, the internet, or in someone else's files--when a new fact is found or needs to be; I'd like it to be able to give a source for every individual fact instead of a source for general events (date, place, and cause); I'd like it to be compatible with every single other computer file on the planet.
Eighth, I'd like it if any time someone sees an error on the website, that they can either fix it immediately by themselves (see Item 2 above) or that they won't hesitate to let me know the correct information so I can fix it.
Finally, dearest Santa, the star on my tree would be to find "a cousin a day."
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

April

Tuesday, November 19, 2002

A Time For Giving Thanks

I often recieve comments about the website and newsgroup praising my work. Among the kudos are comments like, "I don't know how you do it!" and "Where do you ever get such great information?" While all the pats on the back are much appreciated, the truth is that it's all thanks to you--the members of Heycuz and the web site visitors. This site wouldn't be as good--nor half the fun--if it weren't for all of your wonderful contributions. It's rare NOT to get an answer when I ask for help.
The Heycuz Academy Awards Show
As I step up to acknowledge all these words of praise--minus the million dollar outfit, 4-inch pumps, fake eyelashes and diamonds the size of boulders dangling from my ears because currently I'm in my old faded jeans and bare feet--I am all a fluster with thoughts of who I should thank. I didn't prepare a list, [she says blushing, gushing, and pulling out a roll of paper three inches thick]. Of course I'm lying…
All kidding aside though. On December second, Heycuz will celebrate its fourth birthday. (Well, officially it started on the first day of December, but posts weren't made until December 2nd, 1998.) The founding members of Heycuz were Alfred E. Turman, Alice Gimbert, April Heath Pastis, Char Sullivan, Dean Heath, Dixie Estes, Doug Travis, Ida Deal, Ida Estes, J. Hugh Sullivan, Jeanette Tabb, Jo Davis, Johanna Parish, John Kostick, Lisa Williard, Martha Tidwell Agan, Michael Smith, Mollie Everlen, Ross Givens, Susan Morris, Wanda Adams, Wanda Losee, and Wanda M Talbot. While there were only 24 of us to start with, most of whom are still contributing, word spread like wildfire and before long membership tripled.
Its seems so long ago that we started. As I read through those first posts, and the posts now, I am amazed. The concept of sharing information and helping each other in our research was our driving force and it continues even today. Still, there's more to it than that. Heycuz members have become my extended family. Growing up 3,000 miles away from my Aunts, Uncles, Grandparents, and Cousins, I had always missed the feeling of family that only relatives can give you. While many of you are still far away, I only had to click the beloved "send" button and we were as close as any family. No matter how distant our relation, I have come to think of you all as family. So, with all of my heart, [snkkkkkksnortsnkkkkkk, she pulls out a kleenex] I want to [she sighs wiping her eyes] Thank You!
Before I'm ushered off from my pedestal, I also must thank my Mom and Aunts. If my Aunts Wanda Adams and Jo Davis, along with my mom, Donna Heath, hadn't piqued my interest in genealogy, I wouldn't have had the opportunity to meet you all. So, I also want to thank them. Speaking of sparking my interest in genealogy…Where would I have been in my first timid queries weren't answered with gusto by Char Sullivan, Mollie Everlen Mattson, Wanda Losee or Wanda Talbot. They not only answered, but sent me Everything! They really were the ones who laid the foundation for this web site. So we all give them an added thank you hug. Come on up here and take a bow!
I know I am not alone when I say that every month I eagerly check my email box for James Bradford's "Friends of Oak Grove" newsletter. His love and devotion to this excellent publication and to his family is always apparent. He has also given us permission to post his back issues on our web site. So special thanks to James who has also become a well-trusted friend and uncle to me.
If you'll just indulge me a few minutes longer, [she says as tears roll down her red cheeks] I would also be remiss if I did not thank Gale Ford, who is probably related to every branch of my family on both my mom's side and my dad's side. I remember how tickled we were when, having known each other as Green researchers, we were startled to find each other on a list searching for Partons. When it happened again on the Harbinson list, we were puzzled, then when it happened for a third time it was just down-right eerie. Over the years, she's helped me in my genealogy and privately. So, thank you Gale for really being a cousin, literally in every way. I love you!
Besides, those named above, other major contributors--who have significantly helped by donating their time and sending copies of deeds, wills, marriages, birth records, cemetery extractions, photographs (the list is endless)--include: Arline Presley, Arnold Dowdy, Bill Brown, Bud Campbell, Caroline Estes-Castenada, Charlie Lampley, Charlton Queen, Chet Green, Darlene (Aunt Kittie) Heath, Darrell Stroh, David Powell, Dorothy Kirby Carroll, G. Wayne Bradford, Garry R. Schoening, Howard Jones, Janna Johns, Jena Bryant, Joe Dobbs, John G. White, John Ussery, Karen Warren, Lisa Willard, Martha Barnhill Peach, Opal Hays, Phyllis Masters, Robert Bryant, Sharon Brown, Sharon Byerly, Sherman Waters, Sue Welborn, Susan Reynolds, Terri Carlson, Terry McDaniel, Vicki Reich, Virginia Greene, and Wava Tory Boyd. I hope I haven't left anyone out [eyes roll back in head to search for names], but to see who is contributing to our group, one need only check the source index, and the players list on this web site and the read the posts of Heycuz. Once again, Thanks!
Before this starts sounding like an awards-show-recipient's acceptance speech [and because these guys with white coats are approaching], I'll wrap it up with a final deep felt appreciation for every one of you. I'd name you all, but I'm afraid the networks would switch to a commercial.
Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

  • April

Thursday, October 24, 2002

The Most Powerful Thing



  1. by Lucas Heath Pastis
  2. Remember how powerful a photograph can be.
  3. More powerful than any bombs
  4. As powerful as LOVE
  5. (Kim Phuc)


  6. They say that love is so powerful, it can make you do crazy things. I have been lucky enough to live a crazy life. There have been loves won and loves lost and I am thankful for the experiences of both. I have also learned that there are all kinds of loves -- the love between a man and woman, love for parents, love for friends, love for work, love for God and even love for money — but I have discovered that there is one love that is stronger than any other.
Ask any hunter who has come between a bear and its cub to quickly learn that the strongest love is the love between a mother and child. For someone who has never been a mother, it may be impossible to describe this love but I'm a writer, so please indulge me while I try.
Remember back to that first date with THE ONE who made your heart stop and flutter simultaneously. Everything — what you wear, what you say, how you smell, where you go — is vital. Everything about those first minutes will have an impact on the life of that important relationship.
Now that you remember that feeling, imagine looking down at your newborn child with your eyes clouded by tears and your judgment clouded by awe. Go back now to that first date and think about how important every little thing was. Everything is even more important in this new relationship. Everything you do, say and react to can affect not only your relationship with your child, but its very life! The weight of this responsibility is both frightening and overwhelming. It makes you so tongue-tied that nothing you say is what you really mean. You end up hearing your mother's inappropriate words coming from your mouth as you struggle to say anything at all.
Unavoidably, this new love will do something absolutely gross but instead of being justifiably disgusted, you can't help but laugh and later describe to anyone who you can force to listen just how cute and wonderful, or funny and hilarious, this little bundle of spit, muss and hair obviously is. And the combination of worry and adoration fluctuates repeatedly so that on the average day you're at the brink of despair and on the verge of ecstasy some 86,399 times (or the rough equivalent of the number of seconds in a day).
As time goes by, you begin to get used to this feeling of being in love with your child. You even start to get comfortable with it. Alas. This is a mistake. Inevitably, you will either say or do something to make it cry. These tears are different from normal "I need something" tears, because you have caused them. This causes you physical pain and makes your heart ache, and you try anything and everything you can to make up to the child just to get back to the nearly unbearable state of love you were in before.
As the child grows, the importance of what you say, do, etc., becomes even stronger. Unlike when its a helpless newborn, the child also starts making its own decisions and you find yourself as a full emotional partner in the process. You have to watch with restraint as it seeks out playmates, loses a game, gets a job, falls in love and suffers from heartbreak. Every step forward he or she takes has you holding your breath and if you could, you know you surely would take those challenging steps instead.
Somehow his or her successes mean more than your own. Just as you physically feel your baby's hurt when he or she falls trying to take those first steps on its own, you cry tears of happiness when the good stuff happens. You cheer for that important home run. You dance with delight at his or her graduation. You sigh with relief when your child become a parent itself. You have made it to adulthood again.
This cycle continues all over the world. While this love has been experienced by all of my female ancestors because it is life itself, it's happening to me now, and perhaps even to you. This month when Valentine's Day reminds us of the love in our lives, I can't help but think of the most powerful love of all -- the love between a mother and child.
      1. Love,
  1. April
  2. Heycuz, What's New?: October 2002
http://heycuz.net/docs/NEW/2002_10_01_archive.html

Sunday, October 20, 2002

Where are we going?

I can see clearly now the rain has gone
All of the dark clouds have disappeared
Here is that rainbow I’ve been praying for
It’s going to be a bright, bright sun-shiny day.
There’s a point in everyone’s life when they take stock of where they’ve been and where they are heading. This summer culminated such a time for me. Family milestones included golden wedding anniversaries, graduations, birthdays, two family reunions, and ended by saying goodbye to my parents who moved back to their childhood home in Michigan. Each of these events--combined with a good health prognosis after a life-threatening illness--had a profound impact on me and gave me pause to reconsider my priorities.
This fall, I plan to examine my participation in the Heycuz Newsgroup and as webmaster of the Game of Lifes.
You, the members of Heycuz, and I work so hard and sometimes the results hardly seem worth it. It's in my nature to sacrifice, but I’m depleting resources faster than my rate of return. At some point, I have to face this hobby and say, "Where are we going and where do we want to go?"
One way I’ve looked at my life is to say to myself, "If you didn’t HAVE to do this, would you still CHOOSE to do it?" In the end, I have to say that I probably get more enjoyment and fulfillment out of this website and newsgroup than anyone else. I love to do it and hope to continue with it for years to come.
So what’s the problem(s)?
Nice of you to ask…These crises aren't new. I just never really dealt with them until now. Anyone who knows me knows that I avoid conflicts at all costs. Maybe they're perennial issues that require creative solutions each time. I’m open to suggestions. There are too many to list but a few of them are:
TIME
Between emails, research requests, updating this site, and then doing all the things a personal life requires, I don’t have any time. I don’t seem to make as much research trips to the library as I used to and, until I get back to the library, I won’t get over my brick walls. I’ve even contemplated getting an Ouiji board to find answers. Oh great spirits, tell me who are the parents of Owen Sullivan or Nancy Elizabeth Thorn Harrison Partain or Hezekiah Bryant?; What happened to Virinda Estes Cornell Grant?; Where’s the proof that Ezekiel Dye is really my ggg-great-grandfather?; and Where do I belong on this family tree? It’d be funny if I wasn’t so deftly afraid of Ouiji boards.
ORGANIZATION:
I’m sure many of you can identify with this problem. The stacks of papers have taken over my house and I can’t find anything. I thought about putting all my notes into a workable online database to cut down on search requests and probably find the answers to some of my questions because I had the documents all along. However, that opens up more opportunities for the unethical researchers. Perhaps I’ll just put everything on a CD for quick access. But, then, that goes back to the issue of time. I did finally manage to create an index for the Share the Wealth section.
SHARING:
I have always shared my information and received great enjoyment hearing from new cousins. After being burned by a former member of Heycuz who took the entire database and republished it on various websites, there’s a wave of nausea that hits me when I’m asked to send someone a gedcom. At the same time, I’m thankful that members of Heycuz and others would share with me. That event however, opened up my eyes and when I searched online, I found my notes, un-attributed, on website after website. I also learned that this was a growing problem plaguing many researchers that has led to an atmosphere of withholding of information. What’s so hard about listing your sources and protecting the living?
THE SERVER:
The Game of Lifes and the Heycuz newsgroup are both given to us free of charge in exchange for advertisements on our site. The amount of pop-up ads, banner ads, and junk mail, has tripled since rootsweb merged with Ancestry.com’s parent company MyFamily.com. I have been asked several times why there are so many ads, and let me assure you that I have nothing to do with the advertisements nor do I make money off of these ads. It would also be easier if Heycuz members could make immediate changes to their Ancestor’s individual pages instead of going through me. However, the server does not give me this option. So, until we win the lottery and can buy our own server, we’re going to have to make due regardless of what we think about their advertising practices. Right now, because of the unlimited amount of space we are allowed, this is the best place that we can afford.
The Good News
Recent activities in Congress show that they recognize the growing concern of content theft. Whether you’re a proponent of government intervention or not, at least the discussion of the growing problem will bring it out in the open. If genealogists see that they might lose access to this information, maybe they might think twice about infringing on copyrights and ignoring privacy issues. Indeed, we have already lost access to some public records in California, Oklahoma, and other places, spurred by concerns over identity theft. The current bill by Senator Hollings, which is stuck in committee, would force computer hardware and software manufacturers to prevent violations of copyright. It would work something like the way your VCR does now. You can’t make another tape of something that had a copy protection flag on it. Try it and you’ll see what I mean. There are little flags written on a video (and DVD) so that when a recorder/player hits the flag, a notice comes up that there’s a copyright present and you cannot record another copy. All copyrighted Internet content would be affected in Hollings bill and he’s getting the support of the big guns, the Entertainment Industry. Whether you agree with what is deemed copyrightable* or not, if there is a copyright "flag" on a website your own computer will prevent you from making a copy of that information.
*The number of genealogists who do not understand the concept of copyright is appalling. Take a stroll over to the reference desk while you’re in the library and look it up or, if you prefer to surf, search "copyright" on google.com. Citing the old standby "you can’t copyright facts" web site visitors cut-and-paste whole genealogies without recognition that the author’s comments, summaries, stories, layout and notes are not "facts." Once something is in a gedcom, they assume its all facts. But if you take a book such as "The Stand" by Steven King and put it a gedcom and then send the gedcom to others, you have violated King’s copyright.
A few bad seeds don’t spoil the pot, as the saying goes, and I’ve been pleased to find that the number of people who share and research responsibly far outweigh the few who would spoil it for everyone. Do we really want Congress to come in and tell us what we can have on our own computers? It just might happen unless we turn the tide around and reduce the number of copyright violations.
Family Reunion
The Family Reunions that were held in August sparked a renewed interest in my own Family History. I have filled my journal with thoughts that I came away with and collected many old and new photographs and memorabilia on our families. I still have to add pictures to The Family Album.The first celebration included the descendants of my grandmother Ruby (Harrison) Rennie who was celebrating her 90th birthday. The next day featured the Reunion of the Sullivans and Heaths. I saw so many cousins and family members–some I hadn’t seen in over thirty years and some I’d never met.
I realized the cost I had paid by not growing up near my extended family. I was also impressed with what absolutely remarkable people they were. Most interesting to me was seeing my "likeness" in others. I don’t mean whether our noses looked the same, though there was some of that. I mean the underlying resemblance such as the way someone told a joke, laughed, lived his or her beliefs, and even cooked. It’s difficult to explain but it struck me as interesting to see someone I had never met whose actions were very much like reflections of myself. As I sat at each gathering there was no mistaking who was family and who were spouses.
I also was inspired by the characteristics of family members that I’d most like to emulate. First was my Aunt Kittie, an incredibly gracious hostess who opened her home to my family and took us everywhere we asked without hesitation or sleep. I was also impressed with her spirituality and her willingness to share these intimate feelings. Then, there was my Aunt Jo, who welcomed me to her beautiful house that displayed her incredible artistic talent. But, what struck me most important was her positive outlook. She had something good to say about everyone and never said a bad word about anyone and she seemed to do it without appearing like a "Pollyanna." Then there was my Aunt Wanda, who with her husband, Jake, dropped everything at a moment’s notice to come miles out of her way just to spend a few minutes with me and my son. I have always been impressed with her nurturing ways, but her willingness to do that made me realize how important we were to her. I also had the opportunity to interview both my grandparents–Glen Sullivan Heath and Ruby Harrison Rennie–and recorded it to revisit over and over. What a treasure that was and will be for years to come. I was most impressed by their openness and willingness to tell the truth about their lives, their decisions–good and bad–and their deep love for all of their "children"–good and bad. Those were just some of the impressions that I came away with but I realized how much my Family was a part of me and, with all their quirks, gifts, mannerisms, and likenesses, I realized I liked my family and am very proud of them.
Goodbyes
The final event this summer was to bid farewell to my parents who decided to leave their California home of 30-plus years and return to the place where they grew up.




Before they left, I toured the old house as memories of good and bad times haunted it. Every Christmas morning, each birthday wish, the cuts and scrapes, the death of my oldest brother ran through those hallowed walls and my mind. Feelings of abandonment as the only remaining Heath in California had me asking, "Who will be my family now?" But remembering the concerns of a crime-infested neighborhood and thinking ahead to the loving family that I’ll soon marry into gave way to feelings of relief and opportunities for a better life for them and me.

Fall
So, as the first event of the Holiday Season —Halloween–approaches, I look back at this summer with a clean grasp of where I’ve come from and with a feeling of hope and opportunity for the future. I don’t know what it holds in store for me, but I do know that everything’s going to be OK.
  1. April
  2. Heycuz, What's New?: October 2002
http://heycuz.net/docs/NEW/2002_10_01_archive.html

Thursday, August 15, 2002

I Lost It!

A tisket, a tasket,
A green and yellow basket
I wrote a letter to my mother,
And on the way I lost it
Due to computer problems, everything that was sent to me by email since March has been lost. If you have sent in any corrections or updates, please resend them to me. I lost all emails, web pages, photographs, scans, email addresses—In short, everything that was sent privately to me. Because I also lost email addresses I can't even write to you to let you know that it is gone. I hope that you read this and can resend the information. I apologize for the inconvenience.
If you have corrections or updates, it might even be better to email them directly to the
Heycuz newsgroup because it is archived daily and can be accessed by all members. You can read the Heycuz Archives and subscribe, if you wish, at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/heycuz/. If you have scans and photographs you can also send them to the newsgroup as long as they are not too large (Nothing over 1 MB, please). However, if you prefer or if they are larger than 1 MB you can email me privately, April Heath Pastis at april@heycuz.net. My CD burner has now been repaired and I am backing up regularly.
Updates:
Since I lost everything, I have to re-enter all updates into the Heycuz database and so there are no new listings in the family files. I've been working like a madwoman to try to recover all the lost files and will get the updates to you as soon as I can. However, my family, happilly, has a lot of celebrations this month and I will be very busy attending graduations, anniversary and birthday parties, carnivals, etc., etc.
There have been, however, updates to The Family Album. Speaking of which, if you notice anything odd about the Album, please be patient. It seems that we have outgrown that server--which is good news because it means you are all submitting photographs. I'm in the process of moving the entire site to this server which has unlimited space available for pictures.
There have also been updates to our Share the Wealth section. We have received scores of documents - (vital records, deeds, wills, newspaper clippings) - thanks to Dorothy Kirby Carroll, Sherman Waters, and Virginia Greene. In addition, Heycuz member Charlton Queen has donated his cemetery transcriptions. Also, James Bradford has allowed us to post past issues of The Friends of Oak Grove newsletter. The section is in dire need of a workable index, but due to the setbacks on my computer, it will be a while until I can start work on it.
Ethics:
I'm not going to step up on a soapbox about Ethics in Genealogy, but I just wanted to remind everyone not to forget to list your sources when you are doing genealogy research. Just because it is on a website, does not mean it is free for the taking. A lot of the information on this site has been made available at no cost to you. Please click on the link to the source of the information and write to the submitter with your request to use their work, and please ALWAYS give them credit for their work. If you are going to cut and paste any narratives on this site into your genealogy database, please make a note that the information came from Heycuz at http://heycuz.net. Also please be sensitive to our member's desires to respect the privacy of the living.
And, til we talk again, "May the Road Rise to Meet You....

Heycuz, What's New?: August 2002

http://heycuz.net/docs/NEW/2002_08_01_archive.html

Thursday, August 1, 2002

The Perfect Fishin' Hole



by April Heath Pastis
Maybe there's something to the Scottish stereotype of being thrifty, because my mother has always appreciated a good deal. And this was a great deal. When I was about 10 years old, my mother had saved enough Blue Chip stamp books to buy my brothers, my sister and me each a fishing pole of our own. Now, I don't know how many stamps or how long it took her to save up but I do remember that every time she went to the grocery store, she got Blue Chip stamps. After putting the groceries away, we'd all sit at the kitchen table and lick stamps and stick them in the empty pages in her stamp books. She hadn't told us why we were doing this and we never asked because back then, kids just did as they were told.
One day, our mailman, whose name escapes me just now, stopped by for his normal cup of coffee and chat. Next to him was a bundle of long skinny boxes and to our delight, he left them when he departed. We badgered and badgered Mom about their contents until finally she let on that they were fishing poles. When Dad got home from work, he pulled one open to an audience of oohing and awing youngsters. Dad told us all about the ol' days when he was a kid and he'd go fishing in Flint (Michigan). He said that his great-grandfather Walter Gray Sullivan taught him how to fish. They were all expert fishermen back then, Dad said. "My Granddad Sullivan was ... and his Granddad Sullivan was ... and his Granddad Sullivan was... all the way back to old Granddad Noah Sullivan. What? Didn't you know we were related to Noah?"
Dad didn't need any prodding when it came to telling stories. We sat on the floor around him as he regaled us with adventures lived by hardened characters with names like Donny Doogie and "your Uncle Darrel (Darold)."
So we all couldn't wait to become expert fishermen ourselves. We'd show 'em that we were better fishers than any of them. Heck we were naturals. It was in our genes.
The fishing poles were very high quality, Dad said. All we knew was that we had to wait until Saturday to try them out. I don't remember how many days it was, but it sure seemed like a lifetime to us before Saturday rolled around.
Finally, on a particularly hot Saturday, the seven of us piled into Dad's wood-sided station wagon and headed up into the Azusa Foothills. From the back seat, my brothers and sister and I bet who would get the biggest fish. We wondered how it would be to eat a fish dinner made from something we had caught ourselves. Dad said he hadn't had a good fried catfish dinner in years. Mom replied she'd never really liked fish and she was more concerned about who was going to cook the dinner. I wondered why she got us all poles then. Go figure.
At the base of the San Gabriel Mountains there was a small shack with an old sign with paint so worn you could barely read the word "Bait." We stopped there and my Dad returned with a bucket. I didn't know what was in it. I probably would have squealed if he had said it was full of worms.
Winding up the steep cliffs off Azusa Highway was always exciting to me as a kid. We came into California that way and the sight had been awesome. This was the "purple mountains majesty" sung about in "God Bless America." It was breathtaking to a little kid. Looking down from inside the car, it seemed as if the road just dropped dead away into nothing. One wrong turn and the car would plunge thousands of feet. It didn't matter though. I never thought that anyone actually had accidents back then and besides the cars followed each other at a snail's pace. The two-lane highway forced cars to travel in long lines behind a slow moving vehicle until finally a turn off would appear so that the slow car could let the rest of us by. Every car would then speed up for one or two curves til they were stopped by another slow-moving car until the next mile would bring up the next turn-off.
Finally, we turned off the road ourselves and we all burst out of the hot humid car, pulling our legs off the hot sticky vinyl seats. My father had found a great stream. My mother waited under a tree by the cars and the Fishing Heaths were off to discover our heritage as wise ol' fishermen. We all made our way across the rocks, slipping here and there and scraping a knee or two. I carried Paul, who was five, across the rocks that were too big for him to jump across.
Finally, Dad said, "This is good," with the authority of one who knew about these things. He settled down and attempted to teach us how to stick our hooks into a squirming worm. Of course, I wouldn't let it show that it bugged me and laughed at loud at my kid sister, Beth, who refused to touch one of the gushy crawlers. Finally, Dad got all of our hooks loaded with worms, noticing that the ones he had done first had already dried out because of the heat of the day which must've been well into the 100s.
He taught us how to throw the line out so that we didn't catch onto somebody behind us. He warned that it would hurt like mad or put somebody's eye out if we got careless. We managed to throw out our lines and were told to wait 'til the fish bit. We waited and we waited. I looked deep into the stream and saw nothing but water down to the rocks in the shallow bed. I looked at my brother Curt who had done the same thing. He had a "There aren't any fish here" expression. I nodded in agreement. We didn't dare say anything to Dad who was quickly losing his patience with the younger kids, Beth, Shane and Paul, who fought with him all the harder as he tried to help. Although we tried to wait patiently, the blazing sun was making it difficult to concentrate on our task.


I managed to slip off my shoes and dipped my feet into the cool pool. Little by little, we'd slip a little further into the refreshing water until we were no longer fishing; we were wading. Curtis showed me that if you piled rocks you could dam an area and make a nice wading area. Finally, Dad threw up his hands in disgust and ordered us back to the car.We all piled in and headed home. No one spoke on the way home. We were all disappointed that our new career as expert fishermen had come to an end so quickly.
The next week, however, Dad announced that someone at his work told him about a better place to fish in San Dimas. This news was met with a bit less excitement (to say the least) than the previous week. In fact, we had to be ordered out of bed on next Saturday. Once again, we piled back into the station wagon for our next attempt. Mom, as if to cheer us up, packed a picnic. The promise of sodas did spark us up and in no time we were all willing to give it another go. Finally, we pulled into a nice area that had a manmade pond in it called Puddingstone. My brothers and I would come to call it Puddlestone. It was a muddy rocky lake that doesn't exist today. Now it is a water park with slides and beaches which draws a lot more of a crowd than it did then. During those early fishing days, it was unusual to see another person on the lake, er um, pond. But, I have to admit that we did spend many fun hours there.
On our first time out, we waded out as far as we could until the water came up to the edge of the shore. The feeling of mud squishing between my toes was cool and soothing so I didn't mind much the discomfort and long waiting yet to be endured. I don't know when it occurred for the others, but when I felt that first tug on my line -- pardon the pun, but -- I was hooked. I loved to fish. Too bad the fish were the size of sardines and Dad made us throw them all back. It was just the same as when he went hunting, rather tried to go hunting, Dad moaned. He heard guys tell about the deer hunting in the mountains in California and so he went too. But, when he finally spotted a buck, it was so tiny and weak he nearly cried with pity. It was nothing like hunting in Michigan he said and he never went again. But fishing was different. Despite the size of the fish, Dad insisted that he'd heard there were big fish in this lake, er um, pond, and "he" was going to find them even if "we" had to stay there all summer.
So we spent the summer at Puddingstone, sometimes staying out 'til it was dark. My brothers and I were always bragging about how we had caught the biggest fish and yet none of ours amounted to more than four inches long. Beth had lost interest by then, preferring the company of my mother at the picnic table or the slides and swings in the sandbox area up by the cars. We came to really enjoy fishing but never did get our fish dinner.
Finally one day, my Dad said that he heard of a place where the fish were huge and you were guaranteed to catch one!
"Sure Dad, sure," we nodded trying to humor the poor old man. He swore up and down that he was telling the truth. We all replied with sarcasm-a-plenty. Now, you know that Dad would never ever, never ever say anything that wasn't true. Sure his stories were a bit wild, but he was an "honest injun," so we had to give it another try. Once again, we piled back into the hot station wagon and set off for the "best fishing hole, guar-un-teeed."
That led us back to the Azusa foothills to a place called "Happy Jack's." Naive child as I was back then, I was not at all tipped off when we drove into a parking lot past a 12-foot tall sign of a shoeless hillbilly touting the best time to be had at Happy Jack's Fish Farm. My brothers and I couldn't believe our outstanding skills. Every time we dipped the line in, we came out with a fish. Huge fish. They were big! Well at least a foot long which was an incredible difference to what we were used to. We were catching fish left and right when my Dad said, "Stop. This is gonna cost me a fortune." What? "What are you talking about?" We prodded Dad. Apparently, you have to pay for everything that you catch by the pound.
With the leftover time, we took a walk around the grounds of Happy Jack's. There were different ponds full of different kinds of fish. It was here that we saw our first koi pond and Dad would eventually take up raising these beautiful fish (that actually look like large gold fish) as a hobby.
They also had a petting zoo, which is where my Mom and Paul had a run in with a goat. Every time we got to Happy Jack's, as soon as we got out of the car, Paul would go on about wanting a quarter for feed for the animals. One day, he was feeding a baby goat. Just as mom was taking his picture, the mommy goat couldn't resist butting Paul's head and knocking him on his arse.
I've never been fishing since those summers with my Dad and brothers, and probably will never go again. But those were happy times searching for the perfect fishing hole.


Addendum: I've heard from a number of people who also grew up fishing at Puddingstone, Happy Jacks and the area who tell me that this brought back a lot of memories. If you also remember this, I'd love to hear from you, even if we're not related...
Heycuz.net

Heycuz! Merry Christimas


Merry Christmas
Its been quite a year for us at Heycuz with new members and renewing lots of old connections. Personally I've been so busy this month that I haven't been able to write my column for this month. My son Lucas and I were working on his letter to Santa Claus, so I thought that I'd add my own letter to the Big Guy and use it for my Christmas column…
Dear Santa,
Its been a long, long time since I wrote to you. I don't know why I didn't think of writing to you before as you have always filled my stocking with all of my desires when I was a child. Thank you for everything, by the way. This year though, I have some specific requests that it seems only your magic can fulfill. I've been a very, very good girl this year so I hope that you can get me some items on my Christmas List.
First, I am leaving some family group sheets in my stocking. Please fill them out. I'd like to know the parents, grandparents, and children (with "proof") of Nancy Elizabeth THORN, John HARRISON and Nancy DOBBS, Thomas H. RENNIE and Mary A. STRATTON (what does the H. and A stand for?), Jesse MARTIN and Ann BESWICK, Joseph and Mary (what's her maiden name?) HARP, John and Tracy (?) DICKSON, Samuel WILLIAMS and Mary WOODS, David and Mary HUTCHESON, Henry CORNELL, Elisha ESTES, William BELL, John GOLDING, Charlotty GOLDING, Joseph ALLEN and Joanna WHITEHORN, Richard GOFF, Nathaniel TOOGOOD, Cassandra TUCKER, Elizabeth GARNETT, Robert FORSTER, Frances WHEELER and Margery OWENS, Richard BOWEN and Mary CLIFTON, Harry BROOKS, Alexander and Rachel (?) HARBISON, Mary Ann WRIGHT, Thomas ARMSTRONG and Mary BROWN, Hugh and Jane (?) ALEXANDER, Elizabeth MALLORY, John and Sarah DOLLINS, Robert HILL and Martha WALKER, Samuel HARRIS and Rebecca EVANS, Phillip and Mary BARRICK, Joseph BUCHANAN and Ann WILSON, David and Nancy (?) DUNCAN, Jeremiah C. BRYANT and Sarah Jane COBB, Martha RAINEY and William GREEN, and Owen SULLIVAN and Elizabeth LAMPLEY (what is her real death date), Mary Elizabeth ROBINSON(?), Jacob and Mary (?) LAMPLEY, Artimese GREEN, Virinda ESTES (and what happened to her), and any I might have missed.
Second, I'd like to find under my tree a server for the Heycuz group with its own software that will allow real-time input from members of the group. That way members can add and/or correct their own family lines by just signing on. This would free-up my time so I can spend more time doing research. Also, on that server, I'd like an extensive library of original documents of every deed, will, probate, census, book, diary--in short every document that exists--that carries the name of one of my ancestors. The server will have to be very fast--DSL please--so the pages don't take long to load.
Third, I would like the original photographs and tintypes of any picture that was taken of my ancestors. I am missing the original photograph of William and Artimese (Green) Sullivan; I have no photograph of any Estes ancestor;
Fourth, hurry down the chimney with a full-paid trip back to Tennessee so I can visit my new-found cousins and the birthplace of my ancestors.
Fifth, wrap up a top-of-the line digital camera that prints professional quality photographs so I can add them directly into my computer and onto the website.
Sixth, I'd like a hard copy of every document, email letter, or note in an organized file system in a new office just for me, in my new home (which we're working on).
Seventh, its my wish that all of my software does what I need it to do, not just what some programmer thought was important. For instance, I'd like to be able to output my website in hours instead of days; I'd like to be able to Automatically update every Old document--whether it's on my computer, a CD, the internet, or in someone else's files--when a new fact is found or needs to be; I'd like it to be able to give a source for every individual fact instead of a source for general events (date, place, and cause); I'd like it to be compatible with every single other computer file on the planet.
Eighth, I'd like it if any time someone sees an error on the website, that they can either fix it immediately by themselves (see Item 2 above) or that they won't hesitate to let me know the correct information so I can fix it.
Finally, dearest Santa, the star on my tree would be to find "a cousin a day."
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

April

A Time For Giving Thanks

I often recieve comments about the website and newsgroup praising my work. Among the kudos are comments like, "I don't know how you do it!" and "Where do you ever get such great information?" While all the pats on the back are much appreciated, the truth is that it's all thanks to you--the members of Heycuz and the web site visitors. This site wouldn't be as good--nor half the fun--if it weren't for all of your wonderful contributions. It's rare NOT to get an answer when I ask for help.
The Heycuz Academy Awards Show
As I step up to acknowledge all these words of praise--minus the million dollar outfit, 4-inch pumps, fake eyelashes and diamonds the size of boulders dangling from my ears because currently I'm in my old faded jeans and bare feet--I am all a fluster with thoughts of who I should thank. I didn't prepare a list, [she says blushing, gushing, and pulling out a roll of paper three inches thick]. Of course I'm lying…
All kidding aside though. On December second, Heycuz will celebrate its fourth birthday. (Well, officially it started on the first day of December, but posts weren't made until December 2nd, 1998.) The founding members of Heycuz were Alfred E. Turman, Alice Gimbert, April Heath Pastis, Char Sullivan, Dean Heath, Dixie Estes, Doug Travis, Ida Deal, Ida Estes, J. Hugh Sullivan, Jeanette Tabb, Jo Davis, Johanna Parish, John Kostick, Lisa Williard, Martha Tidwell Agan, Michael Smith, Mollie Everlen, Ross Givens, Susan Morris, Wanda Adams, Wanda Losee, and Wanda M Talbot. While there were only 24 of us to start with, most of whom are still contributing, word spread like wildfire and before long membership tripled.
Its seems so long ago that we started. As I read through those first posts, and the posts now, I am amazed. The concept of sharing information and helping each other in our research was our driving force and it continues even today. Still, there's more to it than that. Heycuz members have become my extended family. Growing up 3,000 miles away from my Aunts, Uncles, Grandparents, and Cousins, I had always missed the feeling of family that only relatives can give you. While many of you are still far away, I only had to click the beloved "send" button and we were as close as any family. No matter how distant our relation, I have come to think of you all as family. So, with all of my heart, [snkkkkkksnortsnkkkkkk, she pulls out a kleenex] I want to [she sighs wiping her eyes] Thank You!
Before I'm ushered off from my pedestal, I also must thank my Mom and Aunts. If my Aunts Wanda Adams and Jo Davis, along with my mom, Donna Heath, hadn't piqued my interest in genealogy, I wouldn't have had the opportunity to meet you all. So, I also want to thank them. Speaking of sparking my interest in genealogy…Where would I have been in my first timid queries weren't answered with gusto by Char Sullivan, Mollie Everlen Mattson, Wanda Losee or Wanda Talbot. They not only answered, but sent me Everything! They really were the ones who laid the foundation for this web site. So we all give them an added thank you hug. Come on up here and take a bow!
I know I am not alone when I say that every month I eagerly check my email box for James Bradford's "Friends of Oak Grove" newsletter. His love and devotion to this excellent publication and to his family is always apparent. He has also given us permission to post his back issues on our web site. So special thanks to James who has also become a well-trusted friend and uncle to me.
If you'll just indulge me a few minutes longer, [she says as tears roll down her red cheeks] I would also be remiss if I did not thank Gale Ford, who is probably related to every branch of my family on both my mom's side and my dad's side. I remember how tickled we were when, having known each other as Green researchers, we were startled to find each other on a list searching for Partons. When it happened again on the Harbinson list, we were puzzled, then when it happened for a third time it was just down-right eerie. Over the years, she's helped me in my genealogy and privately. So, thank you Gale for really being a cousin, literally in every way. I love you!
Besides, those named above, other major contributors--who have significantly helped by donating their time and sending copies of deeds, wills, marriages, birth records, cemetery extractions, photographs (the list is endless)--include: Arline Presley, Arnold Dowdy, Bill Brown, Bud Campbell, Caroline Estes-Castenada, Charlie Lampley, Charlton Queen, Chet Green, Darlene (Aunt Kittie) Heath, Darrell Stroh, David Powell, Dorothy Kirby Carroll, G. Wayne Bradford, Garry R. Schoening, Howard Jones, Janna Johns, Jena Bryant, Joe Dobbs, John G. White, John Ussery, Karen Warren, Lisa Willard, Martha Barnhill Peach, Opal Hays, Phyllis Masters, Robert Bryant, Sharon Brown, Sharon Byerly, Sherman Waters, Sue Welborn, Susan Reynolds, Terri Carlson, Terry McDaniel, Vicki Reich, Virginia Greene, and Wava Tory Boyd. I hope I haven't left anyone out [eyes roll back in head to search for names], but to see who is contributing to our group, one need only check the source index, and the players list on this web site and the read the posts of Heycuz. Once again, Thanks!
Before this starts sounding like an awards-show-recipient's acceptance speech [and because these guys with white coats are approaching], I'll wrap it up with a final deep felt appreciation for every one of you. I'd name you all, but I'm afraid the networks would switch to a commercial.
Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

  • April

The Most Powerful Thing



  1. by Lucas Heath Pastis
  2. Remember how powerful a photograph can be.
  3. More powerful than any bombs
  4. As powerful as LOVE
  5. (Kim Phuc)


  6. They say that love is so powerful, it can make you do crazy things. I have been lucky enough to live a crazy life. There have been loves won and loves lost and I am thankful for the experiences of both. I have also learned that there are all kinds of loves -- the love between a man and woman, love for parents, love for friends, love for work, love for God and even love for money — but I have discovered that there is one love that is stronger than any other.
Ask any hunter who has come between a bear and its cub to quickly learn that the strongest love is the love between a mother and child. For someone who has never been a mother, it may be impossible to describe this love but I'm a writer, so please indulge me while I try.
Remember back to that first date with THE ONE who made your heart stop and flutter simultaneously. Everything — what you wear, what you say, how you smell, where you go — is vital. Everything about those first minutes will have an impact on the life of that important relationship.
Now that you remember that feeling, imagine looking down at your newborn child with your eyes clouded by tears and your judgment clouded by awe. Go back now to that first date and think about how important every little thing was. Everything is even more important in this new relationship. Everything you do, say and react to can affect not only your relationship with your child, but its very life! The weight of this responsibility is both frightening and overwhelming. It makes you so tongue-tied that nothing you say is what you really mean. You end up hearing your mother's inappropriate words coming from your mouth as you struggle to say anything at all.
Unavoidably, this new love will do something absolutely gross but instead of being justifiably disgusted, you can't help but laugh and later describe to anyone who you can force to listen just how cute and wonderful, or funny and hilarious, this little bundle of spit, muss and hair obviously is. And the combination of worry and adoration fluctuates repeatedly so that on the average day you're at the brink of despair and on the verge of ecstasy some 86,399 times (or the rough equivalent of the number of seconds in a day).
As time goes by, you begin to get used to this feeling of being in love with your child. You even start to get comfortable with it. Alas. This is a mistake. Inevitably, you will either say or do something to make it cry. These tears are different from normal "I need something" tears, because you have caused them. This causes you physical pain and makes your heart ache, and you try anything and everything you can to make up to the child just to get back to the nearly unbearable state of love you were in before.
As the child grows, the importance of what you say, do, etc., becomes even stronger. Unlike when its a helpless newborn, the child also starts making its own decisions and you find yourself as a full emotional partner in the process. You have to watch with restraint as it seeks out playmates, loses a game, gets a job, falls in love and suffers from heartbreak. Every step forward he or she takes has you holding your breath and if you could, you know you surely would take those challenging steps instead.
Somehow his or her successes mean more than your own. Just as you physically feel your baby's hurt when he or she falls trying to take those first steps on its own, you cry tears of happiness when the good stuff happens. You cheer for that important home run. You dance with delight at his or her graduation. You sigh with relief when your child become a parent itself. You have made it to adulthood again.
This cycle continues all over the world. While this love has been experienced by all of my female ancestors because it is life itself, it's happening to me now, and perhaps even to you. This month when Valentine's Day reminds us of the love in our lives, I can't help but think of the most powerful love of all -- the love between a mother and child.
      1. Love,
  1. April
  2. Heycuz, What's New?: October 2002
http://heycuz.net/docs/NEW/2002_10_01_archive.html

Where are we going?

I can see clearly now the rain has gone
All of the dark clouds have disappeared
Here is that rainbow I’ve been praying for
It’s going to be a bright, bright sun-shiny day.
There’s a point in everyone’s life when they take stock of where they’ve been and where they are heading. This summer culminated such a time for me. Family milestones included golden wedding anniversaries, graduations, birthdays, two family reunions, and ended by saying goodbye to my parents who moved back to their childhood home in Michigan. Each of these events--combined with a good health prognosis after a life-threatening illness--had a profound impact on me and gave me pause to reconsider my priorities.
This fall, I plan to examine my participation in the Heycuz Newsgroup and as webmaster of the Game of Lifes.
You, the members of Heycuz, and I work so hard and sometimes the results hardly seem worth it. It's in my nature to sacrifice, but I’m depleting resources faster than my rate of return. At some point, I have to face this hobby and say, "Where are we going and where do we want to go?"
One way I’ve looked at my life is to say to myself, "If you didn’t HAVE to do this, would you still CHOOSE to do it?" In the end, I have to say that I probably get more enjoyment and fulfillment out of this website and newsgroup than anyone else. I love to do it and hope to continue with it for years to come.
So what’s the problem(s)?
Nice of you to ask…These crises aren't new. I just never really dealt with them until now. Anyone who knows me knows that I avoid conflicts at all costs. Maybe they're perennial issues that require creative solutions each time. I’m open to suggestions. There are too many to list but a few of them are:
TIME
Between emails, research requests, updating this site, and then doing all the things a personal life requires, I don’t have any time. I don’t seem to make as much research trips to the library as I used to and, until I get back to the library, I won’t get over my brick walls. I’ve even contemplated getting an Ouiji board to find answers. Oh great spirits, tell me who are the parents of Owen Sullivan or Nancy Elizabeth Thorn Harrison Partain or Hezekiah Bryant?; What happened to Virinda Estes Cornell Grant?; Where’s the proof that Ezekiel Dye is really my ggg-great-grandfather?; and Where do I belong on this family tree? It’d be funny if I wasn’t so deftly afraid of Ouiji boards.
ORGANIZATION:
I’m sure many of you can identify with this problem. The stacks of papers have taken over my house and I can’t find anything. I thought about putting all my notes into a workable online database to cut down on search requests and probably find the answers to some of my questions because I had the documents all along. However, that opens up more opportunities for the unethical researchers. Perhaps I’ll just put everything on a CD for quick access. But, then, that goes back to the issue of time. I did finally manage to create an index for the Share the Wealth section.
SHARING:
I have always shared my information and received great enjoyment hearing from new cousins. After being burned by a former member of Heycuz who took the entire database and republished it on various websites, there’s a wave of nausea that hits me when I’m asked to send someone a gedcom. At the same time, I’m thankful that members of Heycuz and others would share with me. That event however, opened up my eyes and when I searched online, I found my notes, un-attributed, on website after website. I also learned that this was a growing problem plaguing many researchers that has led to an atmosphere of withholding of information. What’s so hard about listing your sources and protecting the living?
THE SERVER:
The Game of Lifes and the Heycuz newsgroup are both given to us free of charge in exchange for advertisements on our site. The amount of pop-up ads, banner ads, and junk mail, has tripled since rootsweb merged with Ancestry.com’s parent company MyFamily.com. I have been asked several times why there are so many ads, and let me assure you that I have nothing to do with the advertisements nor do I make money off of these ads. It would also be easier if Heycuz members could make immediate changes to their Ancestor’s individual pages instead of going through me. However, the server does not give me this option. So, until we win the lottery and can buy our own server, we’re going to have to make due regardless of what we think about their advertising practices. Right now, because of the unlimited amount of space we are allowed, this is the best place that we can afford.
The Good News
Recent activities in Congress show that they recognize the growing concern of content theft. Whether you’re a proponent of government intervention or not, at least the discussion of the growing problem will bring it out in the open. If genealogists see that they might lose access to this information, maybe they might think twice about infringing on copyrights and ignoring privacy issues. Indeed, we have already lost access to some public records in California, Oklahoma, and other places, spurred by concerns over identity theft. The current bill by Senator Hollings, which is stuck in committee, would force computer hardware and software manufacturers to prevent violations of copyright. It would work something like the way your VCR does now. You can’t make another tape of something that had a copy protection flag on it. Try it and you’ll see what I mean. There are little flags written on a video (and DVD) so that when a recorder/player hits the flag, a notice comes up that there’s a copyright present and you cannot record another copy. All copyrighted Internet content would be affected in Hollings bill and he’s getting the support of the big guns, the Entertainment Industry. Whether you agree with what is deemed copyrightable* or not, if there is a copyright "flag" on a website your own computer will prevent you from making a copy of that information.
*The number of genealogists who do not understand the concept of copyright is appalling. Take a stroll over to the reference desk while you’re in the library and look it up or, if you prefer to surf, search "copyright" on google.com. Citing the old standby "you can’t copyright facts" web site visitors cut-and-paste whole genealogies without recognition that the author’s comments, summaries, stories, layout and notes are not "facts." Once something is in a gedcom, they assume its all facts. But if you take a book such as "The Stand" by Steven King and put it a gedcom and then send the gedcom to others, you have violated King’s copyright.
A few bad seeds don’t spoil the pot, as the saying goes, and I’ve been pleased to find that the number of people who share and research responsibly far outweigh the few who would spoil it for everyone. Do we really want Congress to come in and tell us what we can have on our own computers? It just might happen unless we turn the tide around and reduce the number of copyright violations.
Family Reunion
The Family Reunions that were held in August sparked a renewed interest in my own Family History. I have filled my journal with thoughts that I came away with and collected many old and new photographs and memorabilia on our families. I still have to add pictures to The Family Album.The first celebration included the descendants of my grandmother Ruby (Harrison) Rennie who was celebrating her 90th birthday. The next day featured the Reunion of the Sullivans and Heaths. I saw so many cousins and family members–some I hadn’t seen in over thirty years and some I’d never met.
I realized the cost I had paid by not growing up near my extended family. I was also impressed with what absolutely remarkable people they were. Most interesting to me was seeing my "likeness" in others. I don’t mean whether our noses looked the same, though there was some of that. I mean the underlying resemblance such as the way someone told a joke, laughed, lived his or her beliefs, and even cooked. It’s difficult to explain but it struck me as interesting to see someone I had never met whose actions were very much like reflections of myself. As I sat at each gathering there was no mistaking who was family and who were spouses.
I also was inspired by the characteristics of family members that I’d most like to emulate. First was my Aunt Kittie, an incredibly gracious hostess who opened her home to my family and took us everywhere we asked without hesitation or sleep. I was also impressed with her spirituality and her willingness to share these intimate feelings. Then, there was my Aunt Jo, who welcomed me to her beautiful house that displayed her incredible artistic talent. But, what struck me most important was her positive outlook. She had something good to say about everyone and never said a bad word about anyone and she seemed to do it without appearing like a "Pollyanna." Then there was my Aunt Wanda, who with her husband, Jake, dropped everything at a moment’s notice to come miles out of her way just to spend a few minutes with me and my son. I have always been impressed with her nurturing ways, but her willingness to do that made me realize how important we were to her. I also had the opportunity to interview both my grandparents–Glen Sullivan Heath and Ruby Harrison Rennie–and recorded it to revisit over and over. What a treasure that was and will be for years to come. I was most impressed by their openness and willingness to tell the truth about their lives, their decisions–good and bad–and their deep love for all of their "children"–good and bad. Those were just some of the impressions that I came away with but I realized how much my Family was a part of me and, with all their quirks, gifts, mannerisms, and likenesses, I realized I liked my family and am very proud of them.
Goodbyes
The final event this summer was to bid farewell to my parents who decided to leave their California home of 30-plus years and return to the place where they grew up.




Before they left, I toured the old house as memories of good and bad times haunted it. Every Christmas morning, each birthday wish, the cuts and scrapes, the death of my oldest brother ran through those hallowed walls and my mind. Feelings of abandonment as the only remaining Heath in California had me asking, "Who will be my family now?" But remembering the concerns of a crime-infested neighborhood and thinking ahead to the loving family that I’ll soon marry into gave way to feelings of relief and opportunities for a better life for them and me.

Fall
So, as the first event of the Holiday Season —Halloween–approaches, I look back at this summer with a clean grasp of where I’ve come from and with a feeling of hope and opportunity for the future. I don’t know what it holds in store for me, but I do know that everything’s going to be OK.
  1. April
  2. Heycuz, What's New?: October 2002
http://heycuz.net/docs/NEW/2002_10_01_archive.html

I Lost It!

A tisket, a tasket,
A green and yellow basket
I wrote a letter to my mother,
And on the way I lost it
Due to computer problems, everything that was sent to me by email since March has been lost. If you have sent in any corrections or updates, please resend them to me. I lost all emails, web pages, photographs, scans, email addresses—In short, everything that was sent privately to me. Because I also lost email addresses I can't even write to you to let you know that it is gone. I hope that you read this and can resend the information. I apologize for the inconvenience.
If you have corrections or updates, it might even be better to email them directly to the
Heycuz newsgroup because it is archived daily and can be accessed by all members. You can read the Heycuz Archives and subscribe, if you wish, at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/heycuz/. If you have scans and photographs you can also send them to the newsgroup as long as they are not too large (Nothing over 1 MB, please). However, if you prefer or if they are larger than 1 MB you can email me privately, April Heath Pastis at april@heycuz.net. My CD burner has now been repaired and I am backing up regularly.
Updates:
Since I lost everything, I have to re-enter all updates into the Heycuz database and so there are no new listings in the family files. I've been working like a madwoman to try to recover all the lost files and will get the updates to you as soon as I can. However, my family, happilly, has a lot of celebrations this month and I will be very busy attending graduations, anniversary and birthday parties, carnivals, etc., etc.
There have been, however, updates to The Family Album. Speaking of which, if you notice anything odd about the Album, please be patient. It seems that we have outgrown that server--which is good news because it means you are all submitting photographs. I'm in the process of moving the entire site to this server which has unlimited space available for pictures.
There have also been updates to our Share the Wealth section. We have received scores of documents - (vital records, deeds, wills, newspaper clippings) - thanks to Dorothy Kirby Carroll, Sherman Waters, and Virginia Greene. In addition, Heycuz member Charlton Queen has donated his cemetery transcriptions. Also, James Bradford has allowed us to post past issues of The Friends of Oak Grove newsletter. The section is in dire need of a workable index, but due to the setbacks on my computer, it will be a while until I can start work on it.
Ethics:
I'm not going to step up on a soapbox about Ethics in Genealogy, but I just wanted to remind everyone not to forget to list your sources when you are doing genealogy research. Just because it is on a website, does not mean it is free for the taking. A lot of the information on this site has been made available at no cost to you. Please click on the link to the source of the information and write to the submitter with your request to use their work, and please ALWAYS give them credit for their work. If you are going to cut and paste any narratives on this site into your genealogy database, please make a note that the information came from Heycuz at http://heycuz.net. Also please be sensitive to our member's desires to respect the privacy of the living.
And, til we talk again, "May the Road Rise to Meet You....

Heycuz, What's New?: August 2002

http://heycuz.net/docs/NEW/2002_08_01_archive.html

The Perfect Fishin' Hole



by April Heath Pastis
Maybe there's something to the Scottish stereotype of being thrifty, because my mother has always appreciated a good deal. And this was a great deal. When I was about 10 years old, my mother had saved enough Blue Chip stamp books to buy my brothers, my sister and me each a fishing pole of our own. Now, I don't know how many stamps or how long it took her to save up but I do remember that every time she went to the grocery store, she got Blue Chip stamps. After putting the groceries away, we'd all sit at the kitchen table and lick stamps and stick them in the empty pages in her stamp books. She hadn't told us why we were doing this and we never asked because back then, kids just did as they were told.
One day, our mailman, whose name escapes me just now, stopped by for his normal cup of coffee and chat. Next to him was a bundle of long skinny boxes and to our delight, he left them when he departed. We badgered and badgered Mom about their contents until finally she let on that they were fishing poles. When Dad got home from work, he pulled one open to an audience of oohing and awing youngsters. Dad told us all about the ol' days when he was a kid and he'd go fishing in Flint (Michigan). He said that his great-grandfather Walter Gray Sullivan taught him how to fish. They were all expert fishermen back then, Dad said. "My Granddad Sullivan was ... and his Granddad Sullivan was ... and his Granddad Sullivan was... all the way back to old Granddad Noah Sullivan. What? Didn't you know we were related to Noah?"
Dad didn't need any prodding when it came to telling stories. We sat on the floor around him as he regaled us with adventures lived by hardened characters with names like Donny Doogie and "your Uncle Darrel (Darold)."
So we all couldn't wait to become expert fishermen ourselves. We'd show 'em that we were better fishers than any of them. Heck we were naturals. It was in our genes.
The fishing poles were very high quality, Dad said. All we knew was that we had to wait until Saturday to try them out. I don't remember how many days it was, but it sure seemed like a lifetime to us before Saturday rolled around.
Finally, on a particularly hot Saturday, the seven of us piled into Dad's wood-sided station wagon and headed up into the Azusa Foothills. From the back seat, my brothers and sister and I bet who would get the biggest fish. We wondered how it would be to eat a fish dinner made from something we had caught ourselves. Dad said he hadn't had a good fried catfish dinner in years. Mom replied she'd never really liked fish and she was more concerned about who was going to cook the dinner. I wondered why she got us all poles then. Go figure.
At the base of the San Gabriel Mountains there was a small shack with an old sign with paint so worn you could barely read the word "Bait." We stopped there and my Dad returned with a bucket. I didn't know what was in it. I probably would have squealed if he had said it was full of worms.
Winding up the steep cliffs off Azusa Highway was always exciting to me as a kid. We came into California that way and the sight had been awesome. This was the "purple mountains majesty" sung about in "God Bless America." It was breathtaking to a little kid. Looking down from inside the car, it seemed as if the road just dropped dead away into nothing. One wrong turn and the car would plunge thousands of feet. It didn't matter though. I never thought that anyone actually had accidents back then and besides the cars followed each other at a snail's pace. The two-lane highway forced cars to travel in long lines behind a slow moving vehicle until finally a turn off would appear so that the slow car could let the rest of us by. Every car would then speed up for one or two curves til they were stopped by another slow-moving car until the next mile would bring up the next turn-off.
Finally, we turned off the road ourselves and we all burst out of the hot humid car, pulling our legs off the hot sticky vinyl seats. My father had found a great stream. My mother waited under a tree by the cars and the Fishing Heaths were off to discover our heritage as wise ol' fishermen. We all made our way across the rocks, slipping here and there and scraping a knee or two. I carried Paul, who was five, across the rocks that were too big for him to jump across.
Finally, Dad said, "This is good," with the authority of one who knew about these things. He settled down and attempted to teach us how to stick our hooks into a squirming worm. Of course, I wouldn't let it show that it bugged me and laughed at loud at my kid sister, Beth, who refused to touch one of the gushy crawlers. Finally, Dad got all of our hooks loaded with worms, noticing that the ones he had done first had already dried out because of the heat of the day which must've been well into the 100s.
He taught us how to throw the line out so that we didn't catch onto somebody behind us. He warned that it would hurt like mad or put somebody's eye out if we got careless. We managed to throw out our lines and were told to wait 'til the fish bit. We waited and we waited. I looked deep into the stream and saw nothing but water down to the rocks in the shallow bed. I looked at my brother Curt who had done the same thing. He had a "There aren't any fish here" expression. I nodded in agreement. We didn't dare say anything to Dad who was quickly losing his patience with the younger kids, Beth, Shane and Paul, who fought with him all the harder as he tried to help. Although we tried to wait patiently, the blazing sun was making it difficult to concentrate on our task.


I managed to slip off my shoes and dipped my feet into the cool pool. Little by little, we'd slip a little further into the refreshing water until we were no longer fishing; we were wading. Curtis showed me that if you piled rocks you could dam an area and make a nice wading area. Finally, Dad threw up his hands in disgust and ordered us back to the car.We all piled in and headed home. No one spoke on the way home. We were all disappointed that our new career as expert fishermen had come to an end so quickly.
The next week, however, Dad announced that someone at his work told him about a better place to fish in San Dimas. This news was met with a bit less excitement (to say the least) than the previous week. In fact, we had to be ordered out of bed on next Saturday. Once again, we piled back into the station wagon for our next attempt. Mom, as if to cheer us up, packed a picnic. The promise of sodas did spark us up and in no time we were all willing to give it another go. Finally, we pulled into a nice area that had a manmade pond in it called Puddingstone. My brothers and I would come to call it Puddlestone. It was a muddy rocky lake that doesn't exist today. Now it is a water park with slides and beaches which draws a lot more of a crowd than it did then. During those early fishing days, it was unusual to see another person on the lake, er um, pond. But, I have to admit that we did spend many fun hours there.
On our first time out, we waded out as far as we could until the water came up to the edge of the shore. The feeling of mud squishing between my toes was cool and soothing so I didn't mind much the discomfort and long waiting yet to be endured. I don't know when it occurred for the others, but when I felt that first tug on my line -- pardon the pun, but -- I was hooked. I loved to fish. Too bad the fish were the size of sardines and Dad made us throw them all back. It was just the same as when he went hunting, rather tried to go hunting, Dad moaned. He heard guys tell about the deer hunting in the mountains in California and so he went too. But, when he finally spotted a buck, it was so tiny and weak he nearly cried with pity. It was nothing like hunting in Michigan he said and he never went again. But fishing was different. Despite the size of the fish, Dad insisted that he'd heard there were big fish in this lake, er um, pond, and "he" was going to find them even if "we" had to stay there all summer.
So we spent the summer at Puddingstone, sometimes staying out 'til it was dark. My brothers and I were always bragging about how we had caught the biggest fish and yet none of ours amounted to more than four inches long. Beth had lost interest by then, preferring the company of my mother at the picnic table or the slides and swings in the sandbox area up by the cars. We came to really enjoy fishing but never did get our fish dinner.
Finally one day, my Dad said that he heard of a place where the fish were huge and you were guaranteed to catch one!
"Sure Dad, sure," we nodded trying to humor the poor old man. He swore up and down that he was telling the truth. We all replied with sarcasm-a-plenty. Now, you know that Dad would never ever, never ever say anything that wasn't true. Sure his stories were a bit wild, but he was an "honest injun," so we had to give it another try. Once again, we piled back into the hot station wagon and set off for the "best fishing hole, guar-un-teeed."
That led us back to the Azusa foothills to a place called "Happy Jack's." Naive child as I was back then, I was not at all tipped off when we drove into a parking lot past a 12-foot tall sign of a shoeless hillbilly touting the best time to be had at Happy Jack's Fish Farm. My brothers and I couldn't believe our outstanding skills. Every time we dipped the line in, we came out with a fish. Huge fish. They were big! Well at least a foot long which was an incredible difference to what we were used to. We were catching fish left and right when my Dad said, "Stop. This is gonna cost me a fortune." What? "What are you talking about?" We prodded Dad. Apparently, you have to pay for everything that you catch by the pound.
With the leftover time, we took a walk around the grounds of Happy Jack's. There were different ponds full of different kinds of fish. It was here that we saw our first koi pond and Dad would eventually take up raising these beautiful fish (that actually look like large gold fish) as a hobby.
They also had a petting zoo, which is where my Mom and Paul had a run in with a goat. Every time we got to Happy Jack's, as soon as we got out of the car, Paul would go on about wanting a quarter for feed for the animals. One day, he was feeding a baby goat. Just as mom was taking his picture, the mommy goat couldn't resist butting Paul's head and knocking him on his arse.
I've never been fishing since those summers with my Dad and brothers, and probably will never go again. But those were happy times searching for the perfect fishing hole.


Addendum: I've heard from a number of people who also grew up fishing at Puddingstone, Happy Jacks and the area who tell me that this brought back a lot of memories. If you also remember this, I'd love to hear from you, even if we're not related...
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