Michael Comer (Conner?)

I found this in an envelope with family birth certificates, death certificates and military records.
I find it interesting as this is an entirely new name.
Comer? (Conner?)
I really have no idea who this guy is or why my family would have kept a record of his grave.
The way the notes are worded makes it sound to me like the guy was still alive when these where written.

"Michael Comer OWNS one grave" not 'owned' or 'presently resides in'.

Why would he need a document to prove this (was he using it as colateral for another purchace?) and if these are a real documents, why do they look more like casual notes than an official proof of purchace?

I looked up North Cambridge Cemetary and with the plot directions so clearly noted, it should be an easy enough grave to find.
I may even head over there today, I really would love to see if there is a stone on that grave and what other info that stone might have carved into it.

Running on the ragged edge of posting a truely tasteless joke,
my first thought on reading these notes was,

"The plot thickens...."





I'll post more as I make inquiries.

Have I mentioned lately how much I love this geneology stuff?

: )

Kieran J. Kilday 1886-1976

Digging into the family tree a year or so ago, I happened along a branch with a member whose death certificate listed him as passing away in Randolph, MA. This was very interesting to me as Randolph is where I have lived for the past 10 years. When my husband and I bought our house we were under the impession that neither of us had any friends or family in this area or with any with ties at all to the South Shore community.
But then, at first Kiran Kilday born of Ireland didn't have any either, what brought him here, I wonder? Did he and his wife see a realtor advertisement stating that homes in thier price range were available in a town they never heard of, like us?
Kieran Kilday was my Grandmother's maternal Uncle. I have no idea why neither myself or my Mother (who also now owns a house in Randolph) had ever heard of him before finding his name on a list of birthdates in a notebook buried in the attic of my Grandparent's home but such as it is, it is true. We never heard of him and yet here he is, joined to us by DNA and a commonality in choices of where we made our homes.
Never heard of the guy at all and then suddenly here he is, family and all, in a cemetary right across from the town ice rick where my husband plays hockey once a week.
A cemetary I used to drive by every day on my way to work at the mall.
Go figure...

Even living here, it still took some searching to find Mr. Kilday, there are 20 cemetaries in the immediate Randolph area. I had gone through about 5 of them on foot, sent emails and letters in regards to some of the others and done some more searching on line. All efforts with no luck until on a whim today, I turned into St. Mary's cemetary and as I was about to give up and leave,
there he was:



Having searched for other family members I knew it was entirely possible that he could be buried in the cemetary without a stone or I may have found him buried under a stone that mearly read KILDAY (a common enough name), he also could have been buried in a plot under another name entirely (a plot owned by his wife's family or children perhaps).
The chances that I would just luck across him,
well, as slim as they were,
the odds apparently were in my favor after all.

So, one mystery solved, here lies my Grandmother's Uncle and his family, but then it also begats another mystery or 2.
Who is this metioned behind the main head stone, but clearly in the same plot joining the Kilday's for eternity?

How does Joseph McElroy fit into the family tree puzzle and considering he passed away this year, is there someone still living in Randolph, tending this plot who may be able to add information to my branch?


Then there is also the question of what happened to John R.? It seems that he must have been a child of Kieran and Sabina but to have died so young, in a time of war without military mention on his stone. What was his story?

It may take me years to come to find out more but the fun of discovery in the process of the search makes it all worthwile.

Snap shots...

I guess being glossy 8x10's these are actually more than snap shots but the fact is that there are no markings on the back so as obviously eventful as the events pictured are, what we are left with amounts to a couple of quick snap shots of a life. The woman in the pearls and black dress in the fore ground of the top photo is my Great Aunt Catherine "Kay" E. (Cummings) McIntyre and the woman in the bottom photo with the corsage is also her. It just makes me wonder, how many great photos out there of cultural or historic intrest have been lost in time because someone's friend, family member or neighbor didn't label the image? Who is that guy with his arm around Kay in the first picture? Who are the obviously posed couple in front of her in the second one? And for that matter, what's the story behind the short chunky woman and her tall dancing partner, the girl with ther teired ball gown in the top picture, and the lady in the second picture that appears to be signing something. Who were they? They all strike me as interesting and the only reason I even know they ever existed at all is that they had the happenstance to cross paths with my Aunt Kay at some point in time. Maybe out there, someone else has a copy of these pictures that their relative saved and is wondering right along with me, what's up with that lady with the pearls/corsage? I wonder who she could have been.... Update: (4-13-11) The last photo is a publicity event held at Boston Music Company, the celebrities seated are: Robert Merrill, Roberts Peters (also known as Mrs. Robert Merrill) and Rise Stevens. All 3 were Metropolitan Opera Stars and this appearance occured Tuesday April 22, 1952 from 3 to 4pm at The Boston Music Company Boylston Street, Boston. I found out this information when my aunt gave me a folder full of documents and photos from the same event.

Double Dating with the Draft Board.

I found these letters and article folded together in Charles J. McIntyre's belongings. I find them interesting from both a family history and a sociological 'America in wartime' point of view.
My Grandfather, Charles J. McIntyre never served with the armed forces during WWII or Korea for a couple of reasons.
Early in the war, his father was an elderly widower, in poor health who had no other children to care for him. Charles was trained as an accountant by trade but took a temporary position as a patrolman for The Boston Police Department to replace a man who went to fight over seas. In time the position became permanant and later in the war, it was deemed that he should not be drafted due to the nature of his job.
(I have a letter regarding that somewhere that I will find and post later)
I was surprised to learn that legitimately getting married would have been an excuse to avoid getting drafted but got some insight as to why after reading the letters that were saved with the article.
My Grandfather had to write a letter attesting to the fact that my Grandmother was "performing her household duties to the very best of her ability"and if she was working, why was she doing it and how much money was she bringing home.
I kind of get the whole, 'if she's working, maybe we can eventually draft him because he doesn't really have to support her' thing but I don't get the kind of vague threat that Uncle Sam might come knocking and if Claire McIntyre didn't perpare and perform just the right "duties" as a housewife then off to the war her husband would go. I really do wonder just what was meant by that question, if Grandpa Charley had sent a signed affidavit attesting to the fact that his wife kept a clean house but was a lousy cook (both true*) what then?

The letters are pretty easy to read but the most interesting part, the article, is not so i will transcribe it here:

NEWLYWEDS TO TELL DATE OF ENGAGEMENT

When a Roslindale boy meets a girl from now on, falls in love with her and marries her, he must have witnesses who will furnish him with a sworn affidavit concerning the legnth of time of the courtship, and the date of the engagement.
The newly married registrants of local board 36 yesterday were astonished to recieve the following form with thier questionaires:
"Dear Sir:
"In order that this board may properly classify you, and insamuch as you have married subsequent to the 16th of October, 1940, it will be necessary that you file with us a sworn affidavit covering the following facts:
"1- The legnth of time of your courtship and the date of your engagement.
"2- The fact that you have established your own home: that your wife is dependent upon you for support; that she is, or is not, working, and following the duties of a housewife.

MUST SWEAR TO THE FACTS

"It will be necessary that you obtain from some person who has known you for some time a letter in the form of a sworn affidavit substaining the facts of your courtship.
"Your prompt attention to this matter is requested."
The draft prospects asserted last night that romance becomes a matter of affidavit hereafter in West Roxbury and Roslindale. No longer may sweet nothings be whispered in the canoes on the Charles River or under the grape arbors of suburban homes. For when "Jane" says "Yes," John must stop to jot down the date and rush to get a couple of friends to make an affidavit that it is an engagement.
Some of the prospective draftees may have had long courtships. Others may have had short ones. But, according to the rules, if they were married since Oct. 16, 1940, which was nearly 14 months before Pearl Harbor, they must file the statements of the legnth of thier love-making before they popped the question.
It may have been a cleverly devised question box to determine if there were young men in West Roxbury and Roslindale who became married-since Oct. 16, 1940 - just to escape the draft. Perhaps, under government regulation similar questionaires are being sent to draftees in other local draft board areas. But it certainly put a crimp on the activities of Cupid and there were rumors last night that (unreadable) the district were even going (unreadable) draftees asserted last night was just like living in a goldfish bowl, as far as West Roxbury and Roslindale are concerned.
In case, for instance, a young man registered in the district should meet a young woman, he must perforce write down her name, address, and the date of thier aquaintenship. When aquaintenceship blossoms into something more serious, it appears, witnesses are needed. When the engagement is clinched, then more witnesses are needed according to the board."

* My Mother has told me several times that her Mother (as great as she was in other aspects) was a lousy cook of almost epic perportions. One story stands out particularly in my Mother's mind because she got in trouble and was sent to her room in the middle of dinner through no fault of her own.
It was an evening when there were some tensions at the table and the food served apparently did not help the situation any. My Mother tried to do the right thing and just eat the meal but when she attempted to put her fork into the burger patty on her plate, it was so tough and over cooked that her fork would not pierce it and the patty slipped out from under her fork, bounced off the glass doors seperating the dining room from the living room and landed on the floor.
My Mother was then sent to her room and still seethes about the injustice of her punishment to this day...

Claire (Celia,Cecelia) Frances Cummings McIntyre

This is my Grandmother Claire Cummings McIntyre. (She was also identified as Celia and Cecelia in various documents through her life).
According to the back of the picture she is standing on Craigsville Beach (Cape Cod, MA) in July 1939.
I love the modest beach 'ensable' (including what appears to be a kerchief in her hair), her more cosmopolitan friend casually smoking in the background sporting extremely stylish shades soaking in the shade of her umbrella.
Add the vintage cars in the back ground and it's a grand day at the beach overall!

I'm on vacation this week myself and tho we are sticking closer to home, I really like that I found this one maybe 70 years to the day from when it was taken and am currently nursing my own sunburn due in part to the fair Irish skin that was passed down to me by this well covered up woman... : )

This is my Grandfather Charles Joseph McIntyre as the public saw him:




It's got some funky blurring on it and the marking on the back explains why: "1:30am Jan 20, 1962 taken in front of 8 Tyler St. Taken with a Poloroid camera developed in 10 seconds."
The technology of instant prints must have been pretty new and exciting for it to be worth mentioning how long it took to delelop the shot.

This is how I remember him:



This shot was taken with a Poloroid as well but, a couple of years later. Apparently the technology was not so exciting any more because nothing is noted on the back of this one. My grandfather passed away when I was 7 or 8 years old and the few memories I have of him are of being instructed to "go kiss your Grandpa Charley goodbye" after visits to the house where he sat in his chair in the dining room, smoked his cigar and watched TV while "the women folk" visited in the adjacent living room.
I really can't remember a single word he ever uttered but I do remember he would give me a little smile and present his cheek for a kiss without taking his eyes off the TV.
That was about all I had of my Grandpa Charley but it was enough, to this day whenever I smell a burning cigar, I think of him.

A customer came into the cafe today and after I made his drinks he gave me his credit card to ring them up while he added milk and sugar and what not. I was a bit surprised by the unusual credit card and even more surprised by the name one it,
Charles E. McIntyre.
We had a little chat about spellings of McIntyre and what my Charles J. McIntyre did for a living.
Then Charles E. took his card back, took his take out tray and headed for the incredible Cape vacation that he was surely on his way to with the fam and thier very special (1/2 caf, splash of Chai, cafe au lait....) coffee drinks.
I thought about Charles E. after he left and the only other person I've ever seen use that kind of credit card (Joe Perry from Aerosmith) and wondered for a brief moment what Charles E. does for a living and why couldn't we all be decended from him and his black card lifestyle, then I thought some more about that duct taped leather chair that sat in the dining room for at least a year after Charles J. was no longer sitting in it.
I thought about the scent that hangs in a room long after hundereds of cigars have been smoked there, and that "Yeah, I'm watching the game but but the kids here smile".

We are collectively the product of where we come from and since I am pretty happy with who I became, I'll keep my memories and tho it might be tempting to day dream for a moment or 2, I really wouldn't trade tip jars with Charles E. for anything in the world...

Kilroy was here...

My Grandmother Claire (Cummings) McIntyre is not the bride but the maid of honor in this picture. The Bride is Ann Kilroy and her high haired betrothed is Frank Keenan. Tom Kilroy is the best man and the picture was taken approx 1936 or 1937.
I know this because the picture is such labeled on the back in the handwriting of Claire's sister, Catherine (My great Aunt "Kay").
I absolutely love my Grandmother's gorgeous velvet dress, the flowers, the snazzy gloves on the men but what I really like about this picture is that it was labeled.
Even tho the portrait was obviously an important occasion, by the time this picture came into my hands, there really was no one left to ask the question, who were all these people?
My Grandmother Claire (aka Cecilia or Celia) passed away in 1967, 3 years before I was born. Although it is nice that my Mother is available to readily identify her own Mother in pictures, she had no idea who the other people were and without the label, this lovely portrait of a rather important time in thier lives could be completely lost.
I'm going to ramble a bit here and I would like it if you would hang with me for a paragraph or two because my point is one that I think is important.
There have been 2 significant fires in my life.
The first destroyed my Father's home nearly taking the life of my sister and her Mother along with it. The second occured a few years later in the house where I had grown up but had not lived in for about a decade.
Both homes were total losses.
That is to say, everything was destroyed either by fire or by the water used to fight it. Both of the families living in those homes at the time of those fires lost everything.
It is very easy to say,
"But they kept the most precious thing of all, thier lives."
And yes, thankfully, very thankfully, all of the people living in those homes at the time of those fires, survived without serious physical injury.
But think for a moment about what they really lost, not just things but thier entire history, thier original birth certificates, thier children's first teeth, and all of the photographs that their parents and grandparent had lovingly preserved in albums for future generations, gone forever in less than 12 hours.
Generations of history, just gone.

This is also related to my point,
trust me for just a little bit longer...

My Paternal Grandmother (Ruth (Simmons) Pearson collected post cards for decades that she would pick up in antique and trinket stores along the routes of her many travels. One one night a couple of years ago while browsing through her old albums, I took it upon myself to Google the name and address of one of the recipiants of a post card that had caught my eye. I found a link to a geneology page for a decendant of the adressee and contacted him about the card. I asked if he was indeed related to the recipiant, amazingly enough he was and I was able to scan the card and email it to him.
You never really know where things with your name on them will wind up after you are gone...
My sister Sarah made a pretty great family hisory discovery when she was only about 15, knowing that her Grandfather (Roy Pearson) had writen several books and had a habit of inscribing them for friends and family on special occasions, she searched "Roy Pearson" on Ebay and Amazon and found some of his books for sale that were inscibed by him to friends and co-workers.
I have since found a few more of his books and and with every one we dig up out of the modern web, it's like a friendly little note from the past saying,
"Hi, I was here."
The point of this whole ramble is this:
Most of us are taught from a young age that modesty is becoming and shouting to the world in big flashy letters just how magnificent it is that a person born bearing our name turned out to be as great as we think ourselves to be is unelegant and distateful behavior.
I, a formerly extremely shy person, have now to seriously beg to differ...
If we don't shout our names to future generations by labeling every possible passing thing that we come into contact with, "I WAS HERE" than what will become of our memory?
Sure, your decendants will save every scrap they can but what if that all that care and hard work goes up in smoke?
What if somewhere along the way, you had the misfortune to lose a home?
What if there is a picture somewhere of your ancestor, completely unrelated to the owner of the photo who happens to get on line one night and Google your ancestors name in the hopes of finding someone else out there looking back for the same person?
All I can think is how wonderful it would be if someone contacted me with a photo of my family that I had never seen before.
Who knows if the modern Kilroy family is even insterested at all in thier own ancesators, maybe they were real jerks at heart and best forgotten. Who knows?
I will try in my spare time to hunt down the modern Kilroy's (such a common last name, I might not have much luck but then through the generosity of my friend Elizabeth, I found a modern McIntyre cousin, 5 times removed, in NH so stranger things have happened...)
So, the whole point of my ramble is,
I know who those total strangers are because someone took the time to tag this photograph,
"Kilroy was here."