Rebel Yell Redux

Here is why I love genealogy. Out of the blue I recieved the gift of a portrait of my great-great grandfather, James Vaughan, and his wife, Elizabeth. Sent from Alice, a cousin I have yet to meet. (Thanks, Alice!)

Alice had clues and stories I had never heard or even suspected about James. She mentioned to me that he had gone to Cuba and brought back some sea shells. Cuba??? In the 1870's? She conjectured that he had gone as a soldier of fortune in the Cuban and Spanish wars. I had to do some research, as I had no recall of learning about such a conflict. I realized that if James had indeed traveled to the Spanish West Indies during this time period, he would have had to apply for a passport. I went to the NARA archives index found on Footnote.com and searched for James. Sure enough, I found his passport application, complete with a description of him and his signature. He was authorized to travel to the "Spanish West Indies", AND this was not his first trip, as the application is for a renewal.

The plot doth thicken.

Stepmom

I have been a stepmom for 12 years, and most of the time, it is the world's most thankless job. In spite of loving my stepson like my own, I am always aware of my 'label' and the limitations it implies, both in the eyes of the culture and in practical ways. My stepson is delightful and we enjoy a close relationship, but his biological mother is, and should be, number one. I am blessed with a husband who values my relationship with his son, and my stepson's mother also is respectful of my role. I know many other stepmoms (and stepfathers too) that do not have those blessings. Regardless, to love without expectation is our lot, and it isn't easy. I recently discovered in my family research a letter from a stepmom's heart, written by a simple woman in her country way, full of tender love for the motherless children that became her own. I want to share a little of that story and honor her sacrificial love.

Mollie Sydney Vaughan married Samuel Houston Jolly in 1883 in Texas. She moved with her new husband to Mississippi and had three children, Sydney, Laura and Leroy. In 1890, Mollie passed away. I have a letter from Mollie written in January, 1890, less than 9 months before her death. Here is the last paragraph:

"Roy wants to help me write and is bothering me so I will have to quit. You must excuse this short letter for I am not well enough to write at all will do better next time. Write soon to: Your loving sister, Mollie S. Jolly"

The next letter mentioning Mollie and Sam's family took me a while to decipher. The letter is from a Alma Jolly, written to Mrs. S. E. Vaughan in 1894. I eventually determined that it was written by the stepmother of Mollie's children, to their maternal grandmother. Here are some of the touching contents:

"Okolona, Miss
April 15th 1894
Mrs. S. E. Vaughan,
. . .The children are well and growing very fast. Roy is very near as large as Edna and he is just as cunning as he can be. And Edna don't like very much of being as tall as Sidny, and she is just as smart as she can be. She learns fast and can do so many things for a little girl her age and she is just as merry as a little bird and I think she is very pretty. Sidny is a very quiet child but he is the nicest child I ever saw to be a boy. I wish you could hear him spell he can spell very near every word in his word book ...Roy learns so fast that he hardly needs a book to get his lesson in. It would make you laugh to see him spell and wink his cunning eyes. . .
I don't have any trouble with the children whatever, they seem to think a great deal of me. I try to do my duty towards the children best I can. I know that I can't fill the vacancy in every respect - but I will ever endeavor to try to do my duty in every way. . .
Well I guess you would like to have a description of myself so I will give you a dot or two. I am a chunky little girl and only weigh 150 lbs., have dark hair and blue eyes. . .Mrs. Vaughan, I will correspond with you if it suit you. Yours most respectfully, Alma Jolly"

Almira Abernathy Jolly was Alma's full name, and sadly, she also died a few years later, leaving Laura, Sidney and Leroy motherless once again. Their father did remarry again, but I have no correspondence past the letter from Alma.

My heart goes out in sisterhood to other stepmoms, who have gotten a bad rap for hundreds of years. We understand how it feels to feel "second" best, to be left out of decisions about a child you love, to be judged based on your status of "step", stereotyped as evil, not given the courtesy of recognition as an important part of 'our' children's lives. We love anyway, and in that way learn a little how God asks us to love - unconditionally, freely, without hope of anything for ourselves. If the child succeeds in life, stepmoms will not usually be given credit. If the child has problems, the stepmom will often come up as a source of blame. It takes a lot of humility (and a good dose of keeping one's mouth shut!)to be a good stepmom. Heaven help(s)us.

I honor Alma for her love to the three children she treasured. I believe they were her own in her heart. Bless you little Alma.

Rebel Yell in the frozen North

"The prestige of government has undoubtedly been lowered considerably by the prohibition law. For nothing is more destructive of respect for the government and the law of the land than passing laws which cannot be enforced. It is an open secret that the dangerous increase of crime in the United States is closely connected with this." Albert Einstein

I have a treasure trove of old letters to read - the earliest from post-civil war Tennessee in 1870. The authors seem alive and present with me; their thoughts, feelings and concerns relevant and fresh.

James M Vaughan (my great great grandfather - in this photo) writes a cryptic letter to his son, Charley, admonishing him for leaving home in some sort of trouble or debt.

"Commerce Texas, April 10 1888

"Well what I had to tell you & Jessie I cannot write so just let it go till I see you. I have had letters from those in who you are interested They are All Write. ...My Son you have not lived as long as I have. I have never lived any whare whare I am ashamed to go back. I have never done any thing to be ashamed off. I am engaged in the traffick of whiskey but if that is disonerble thare is thousands of the best men in the cuntry gilty of the Same offence. With these facts before me I feale satisfed that while I am not able to work at Hard labor that I have got to make a living some way. Then If I can make it the way I am don't condem me. ...I will not weary your patience any longer but ask you to think before you do anything. That other question that I mentioned that was six millions of miles deep - remember. Then I am through -
I am affectionately you father, J. M. Vaughan."

I am intrigued, and a little envious. James M. Vaughan was born in Tennessee in 1827, from what I can determine, didn't fight in the Civil War, and his sons were born after the war. Nevertheless, they must have been greatly affected by the devestation around them. They moved around the south - Georgia, Alabama, finally Texas before they settled. Somehow they kept that independent spirit that would not be crushed by circumstances. James was putting food on the table by putting whiskey in bottles, and there must have been a little nose-thumbing at the local authorities to make that happen.

Some of Jame's rebel spirit still stirs in me, and I relish it, stuck in the land of good manners and Minnesota nice. He was on to something. And I don't just mean the whiskey. I am humbled by the transparent love and passion these people show in their correspondence. In spite of their independence, they are a real community, bonded by fierce loyalty and common bloodlines. They do not hide from each other even their weakness and need. Their hearts on their sleeves, they freely express joy and sorrow, loss and longing, anger and hope. They are, above all, connected.

If anyone had ever been able to record the rebel yell, I would love to salute this family with that famous but now only imagined sound that makes the hair stand on end and the heart race.