The name Beverly in our family has long been a mystery because our oldest relative, William Beverly Young, the son of John Colby Young and Mary E. Edwards, was an orphan at a young age and no one that we know of ever asked him why his middle name was Beverly. Uncle Bill died in 1987 and for all we knew, that mystery died with him.
Recently, after finding out who the parents of Mary E. Edwards were, the mystery was soon to be solved. Mary Edwards was the daughter of William Martin Edwards and Sarah Caldwell. Sarah Caldwell was the daughter of Beverly Caldwell and Phoebe Hatcher. There it was, right before me, the key to the mystery! I just sat and looked at the record holding my excitement while silently smiling at my computer screen. I didn't understand the meaning of naming a boy Beverly but for the family who originated from Ireland, it was tradition. Sarah Caldwell the daughter of Beverly Caldwell, married William Martin Edwards and had several children, one of which she named a son Beverly Bernard Edwards. Beverly Bernard Edwards was a brother of Mary E. Edwards, so it all makes sense that she named her son William Beverly Young.
The name Beverly shows up several times as Beverly Bernard Edwards went on to name one of his sons Henry Beverly Edwards. Finally the youngest of the Beverly name went to Beverly Young, daughter born to Robert Martin Young, grandson of Mary E. Edwards. Beverly Young is the only female to have the name.
This information probably means nothing to most people, but to our family it means the world.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Mary E. Edwards
After much searching and a little frustration, the Edwards family is no longer a mystery! Our family tree has long been stopped at John Colby Young and Mary E. Edwards.
Recently my dad handed me a collection of documents to see if I could find any clues. There was a hand written note by a man named William Edwards giving permission for John Colby to marry his daughter. It was the first clue since I never had a name for the father of Mary Edwards!
The middle initial looked like an "N" a "U" or maybe an "M" and after reviewing the rules of cursive handwriting which is hardly used in our day, my dad and I realized the middle initial was definitely an "M."
I pulled up a 1900 census just to take a look and see if I had missed any hints. Suddenly I noticed there was a column for the number of children born, and then another column for the number of children surviving. It clearly said that Mary Edwards had 9 children and that only 5 survived. I was never aware of this information but given the time of the late 1800's it all made sense. There were also some gaps in years of her 5 children that I never could quite understand. Now it was time to look back into the 1880 census which I was never able to match one to John Colby and Mary Edwards since the info was a little bit off and didn't seem to be accurate.
Alas, the 1880 census in Illinois showed a "J. C. Young" and a "Mary E. Young" living with two infants. I'm sure I have seen this census record before but brushed it off since I had always held true that Robert Cleveland was the oldest child, when in fact he was the oldest surving child. It was a joy to finally place this record with its rightful owners.
Now, the next clue came upon me on this 1880 census where it listed the birthplace of the mother and father of each indivual. For Mary, she listed her father being born in Virginia, and her mother in Kentucky. Now for John Colby, he listed both parents as being born in "Unknown."
All these years we had this idea that John Colby's family was Welsh. Uncle Bill told my father this several times but couldn't quite explain why he knew this information since his father died when he was 9 years old and his mother died a few years later. Since John Colby was a Union soldier and his family was said to have been Southern sympathizers, I always pictured this extreme patriotism with deep roots embedded into the south.
Recently my dad handed me a collection of documents to see if I could find any clues. There was a hand written note by a man named William Edwards giving permission for John Colby to marry his daughter. It was the first clue since I never had a name for the father of Mary Edwards!
The middle initial looked like an "N" a "U" or maybe an "M" and after reviewing the rules of cursive handwriting which is hardly used in our day, my dad and I realized the middle initial was definitely an "M."
I pulled up a 1900 census just to take a look and see if I had missed any hints. Suddenly I noticed there was a column for the number of children born, and then another column for the number of children surviving. It clearly said that Mary Edwards had 9 children and that only 5 survived. I was never aware of this information but given the time of the late 1800's it all made sense. There were also some gaps in years of her 5 children that I never could quite understand. Now it was time to look back into the 1880 census which I was never able to match one to John Colby and Mary Edwards since the info was a little bit off and didn't seem to be accurate.
Alas, the 1880 census in Illinois showed a "J. C. Young" and a "Mary E. Young" living with two infants. I'm sure I have seen this census record before but brushed it off since I had always held true that Robert Cleveland was the oldest child, when in fact he was the oldest surving child. It was a joy to finally place this record with its rightful owners.
Now, the next clue came upon me on this 1880 census where it listed the birthplace of the mother and father of each indivual. For Mary, she listed her father being born in Virginia, and her mother in Kentucky. Now for John Colby, he listed both parents as being born in "Unknown."
All these years we had this idea that John Colby's family was Welsh. Uncle Bill told my father this several times but couldn't quite explain why he knew this information since his father died when he was 9 years old and his mother died a few years later. Since John Colby was a Union soldier and his family was said to have been Southern sympathizers, I always pictured this extreme patriotism with deep roots embedded into the south.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Memories of my Grandfather
My Grandfather from my mom's side died in 1989 when I was very young. However, I have very clear memories of him in my mind. He was quiet and kind. His face would light up when I came to see him. He suffered from Diabetes which eventually took him in the end. In his last moments at home at the house in LA, he lay in bed and was very weak. My grandmother had a bowl of strawberries and a bowl of sugar which Grandpa was really too weak to eat. He shared his strawberries and sugar with me and was smiling as I indulged in this delicious treat. My mom came up and told me to stop eating Grandpa's food, and Grandpa smiled and told her in Korean that it was just fine. That was my last memory of my Grandpa. I wish I had more time to get to know him better but in a sense I am him, just in a younger more American form. My mom missed him very much and I sat next to her at his funeral as she silently cried. They are strong people, my mom's family, and rarely reveal when they are hurting or in pain. My Grandmother has never remarried and still lives in the old house in LA till this day. Someday she will be reunited with him.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Researching Family
I had a mandatory Hawaiian studies course in college at UH Manoa. The first assignment was to make a family tree and bring it to class and share it. I wasn't too thrilled at the time because it meant that I had to call home to California and get all the information needed. I thought to myself, what's wrong with this teacher? What does my family have to do with Hawaiian studies?
Little did I know it would spark an interest that carries with me today. Something really hit me when I saw ancestors who were born in the 19th century and my investigative side came out when I realized that there were some dead ends in the family tree. I wanted to know more.
My interest was permanently planted on the day my mentor, dean and professor at the school of Journalism at UH Manoa retired. Dr. Bev Keever, one of the first women reporters in Vietnam during the war, a true inspiration to all. She came to speak to us and see us for the last time. We all talked and asked her what her plans were. She said she was going to spend time with her 90 something year old mother since she had devoted so many years to her career. None of us students ever had the nerve to ask her how old she was but we all guessed she was near 80.
Anyways, she pulled us together and told us that in her life she had 2 big regrets:
1) She never kept a diary. As a journalist she was always documenting events but never bothered to document her own life.
2) She didn't document her family's history. She recalled being a little girl in New York and hearing her grandmother talk of traveling in covered wagons. Today, this information would be like gold, but when her grandmother died, all that information went with her.
I'll never forget this day. There I was in my early 20's hearing this amazing woman at the end of her long career talk of her life's biggest regrets. I wanted to make darn certain that I wouldn't have the same ones.
Little did I know it would spark an interest that carries with me today. Something really hit me when I saw ancestors who were born in the 19th century and my investigative side came out when I realized that there were some dead ends in the family tree. I wanted to know more.
My interest was permanently planted on the day my mentor, dean and professor at the school of Journalism at UH Manoa retired. Dr. Bev Keever, one of the first women reporters in Vietnam during the war, a true inspiration to all. She came to speak to us and see us for the last time. We all talked and asked her what her plans were. She said she was going to spend time with her 90 something year old mother since she had devoted so many years to her career. None of us students ever had the nerve to ask her how old she was but we all guessed she was near 80.
Anyways, she pulled us together and told us that in her life she had 2 big regrets:
1) She never kept a diary. As a journalist she was always documenting events but never bothered to document her own life.
2) She didn't document her family's history. She recalled being a little girl in New York and hearing her grandmother talk of traveling in covered wagons. Today, this information would be like gold, but when her grandmother died, all that information went with her.
I'll never forget this day. There I was in my early 20's hearing this amazing woman at the end of her long career talk of her life's biggest regrets. I wanted to make darn certain that I wouldn't have the same ones.
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