My husband Seth’s grandparents were known throughout the family for their summer home in Nederland, Colorado, commonly referred to as “the Cabin.” When I became part of the family I heard stories and was shown pictures of events at the Cabin. It was a place where the whole family came together and created a lot of happy memories.
Seth’s grandfather, Paul Furbeck, wanted a home in the mountains. He and his wife Margaret lived in Abilene, Kansas––it is a good eight or nine hour drive from Abilene to Nederland. One of their daughters was living in Evergreen, Colorado, so in 1976 she began scouting the area for land that they could consider buying. She found a 1.8 acre lot on the southern side of Nederland for about $7500. For Grandpa, the view sold it. The Cabin would have a perfect view of the town below and the Indian Peaks to the North.
Grandpa wanted to build the house from scratch. He was always interested in working with his hands and this would be no exception. He bought the house from a company called Capp Homes who sold houses in kits. Capp had a crew come to the lot and build the framing for the foundation. The family helped out and then built the rest of the house.
The foundation and basement was poured in 1977. They lived in a camper during the time they were there until the house was in a livable condition. They were able to begin living in the Cabin about the end of the summer of 1978.
When they first built the home, they would come to Colorado at the end of May, after school let out for the year, because Grandma was a school teacher. They would return to Abilene before school was back in session for the fall. After they retired, they stayed longer. One year they didn’t leave until after Thanksgiving. During that trip they discovered how the snow would get packed thick on the county road and that their driveway would develop a terrible drift in the winter that soon became impassable. They would have to park the car at the top of the driveway and walk down to the Cabin through the trees, creating a trail.
I remember times visiting my husband’s grandparents at the Cabin. They would be out in Colorado for a few weeks in the summer and we’d go visit. Seth’s grandma liked to take drives in the mountains––we’d just get in the car and see where we ended up. One day we drove up to Caribou, a ghost town, and had a picnic. Once we drove down Magnolia Road, a very steep and narrow road, where she picked up a hitchhiker who needed a ride to the highway to catch the bus. (I never would have imagined Grandma picking up a hitchhiker!) Another time we drove through Ward and down the mountain the “back way” into Boulder.
As they grew older, they were able to stay less and less. Four months gradually turned into two, then just a few weeks. Eventually the house was empty for most of the year except for the occasional visit by an aunt or cousin who was out for a ski trip. The last summer they came to visit their summer home was 2001. At that point, Seth and I were living there with our son Ethan.
In 1999, we were living in Aurora when Seth got a job in Boulder. We decided it was time to move closer to his job. This was just about the time when the grandparents had only been able to come to their summer home for a few weeks each summer and the drive was getting longer and harder for them to make. We needed a place to live, they needed someone to take care of their house. It was a perfect fit! We moved into the Cabin in March 2000. Ethan was born in December 2000 and his first home was that Nederland, Colorado mountain home. It is a beautiful house in a beautiful town.
The house is still owned by Seth’s grandma. When Seth got a new job in Longmont and we had our second child, Ellie, we felt the need to move to Longmont and purchase our own home. Now the Cabin is being rented, by the same couple for the last 5 years. They love it and take great care of the house.
That house has blessed this family with so many wonderful memories––pictures of various grandchildren visiting, an old pile of walking sticks collected in the woods. It stands for so many experiences and is a family treasure. Not as small as a family bible or photo album, but a house can be a genealogical treasure too. Built by the hands of the family, it holds a lot of spirit within its walls.
Showing posts with label Colorado. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Colorado. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
First Word #8 - How Could That Record Be So Wrong?
Have you ever wondered how records could ever be incorrect? How could they get so full of the “wrong” information? Have you ever come across a census that was so full of errors you wondered where they came up with it? I have some examples of this and some ideas on how it could have happened.
While researching my great-great grandmother, Martha (Meeker) Dimick, who died in Nashville, Tennessee, I located my standard starting records: obituary and death certificate. Martha Dimick was born in Wood County, Ohio on 27 May 1872 and died 23 September 1970. Both her obituary and her death certificate state that her parents were Mahlon and Mary (Baughman) Meeker. After spending unsuccessful hours searching the 1880 census to find her with her parents, I finally changed tactics and found her birth registration. Her parents were actually Lafayette and Philinda (Baughman) Meeker.
The informant for her death certificate, and most likely her obituary as well, was her son, Gerald Dimick. He was only 2 months old when his grandfather died and his grandmother died 22 years before his birth! Needless to say, he didn’t know his grandparents and, if his mother never really talked about them, he maybe didn’t even know their names or confused them––Mahlon Meeker was his great-grandfather. Or, at times of distress, such as the loss of a loved one, our minds are not as sharp as they usually are, which could have been the case with Gerald.
On a more recent note, my genealogical buddy Birdie Holsclaw and I met each other for dinner a few months ago. At that particular restaurant they take your name and and order, then call you when your food is ready. Birdie and I ordered and then sat down to wait. During our meal, I noticed that her receipt said “Bertie.” I immediately imagined all those poor census takers who did the best they could recording names, sometimes in a short amount of time, with language barriers or uncooperative families. They were trying to get through hundreds and thousands of households on a deadline, just like the cashiers at restaurants who are trying to get to as many customers as possible.
Another modern incident of incorrect information comes to mind. My brother got married 25 June 2005 in Estes Park, Colorado, which is in Larimer County. I was there. My husband, children, mom, grandma and aunt were there too. We all witnessed the event, we even have video and pictures to document the marriage. However, the Colorado marriage records state that he was married 25 August in Adams County. Why? Because he forgot to file the appropriate papers in time. So they held the ceremony and were married but the license wasn’t filed with the state until August. If you are familiar with Colorado, you would not mistake the mountainous backdrop of Estes Park in those pictures with the sweeping plains of Adams County as the recorded “truth” claims.
My brother’s story could be similar to that of my ancestor Thomas Mitchell who married Angeline Higdon around 1848-1849. They are in the 1850 Barren County, Kentucky census, married, no children. However, every attempt to locate a marriage record in that county––and about 10 of the closest surrounding counties––has turned up nothing. It could have been that they were married by a traveling minister who never turned in his records to the county. Or they eloped to some other state, maybe even changing their names. Or they never actually married.
When evaluating the records that have been left for us to interpret, (or perhaps not left, as the case may be), it is important to try to imagine what obstacles the record taker may have been dealing with such as language barriers, or the stress the informants may have been under. There are any number of factors to consider. If that doesn’t work, I try to imagine a scenario for the unknowns that helps me sleep at night. At least until I find that record…
While researching my great-great grandmother, Martha (Meeker) Dimick, who died in Nashville, Tennessee, I located my standard starting records: obituary and death certificate. Martha Dimick was born in Wood County, Ohio on 27 May 1872 and died 23 September 1970. Both her obituary and her death certificate state that her parents were Mahlon and Mary (Baughman) Meeker. After spending unsuccessful hours searching the 1880 census to find her with her parents, I finally changed tactics and found her birth registration. Her parents were actually Lafayette and Philinda (Baughman) Meeker.
The informant for her death certificate, and most likely her obituary as well, was her son, Gerald Dimick. He was only 2 months old when his grandfather died and his grandmother died 22 years before his birth! Needless to say, he didn’t know his grandparents and, if his mother never really talked about them, he maybe didn’t even know their names or confused them––Mahlon Meeker was his great-grandfather. Or, at times of distress, such as the loss of a loved one, our minds are not as sharp as they usually are, which could have been the case with Gerald.
On a more recent note, my genealogical buddy Birdie Holsclaw and I met each other for dinner a few months ago. At that particular restaurant they take your name and and order, then call you when your food is ready. Birdie and I ordered and then sat down to wait. During our meal, I noticed that her receipt said “Bertie.” I immediately imagined all those poor census takers who did the best they could recording names, sometimes in a short amount of time, with language barriers or uncooperative families. They were trying to get through hundreds and thousands of households on a deadline, just like the cashiers at restaurants who are trying to get to as many customers as possible.
Another modern incident of incorrect information comes to mind. My brother got married 25 June 2005 in Estes Park, Colorado, which is in Larimer County. I was there. My husband, children, mom, grandma and aunt were there too. We all witnessed the event, we even have video and pictures to document the marriage. However, the Colorado marriage records state that he was married 25 August in Adams County. Why? Because he forgot to file the appropriate papers in time. So they held the ceremony and were married but the license wasn’t filed with the state until August. If you are familiar with Colorado, you would not mistake the mountainous backdrop of Estes Park in those pictures with the sweeping plains of Adams County as the recorded “truth” claims.
My brother’s story could be similar to that of my ancestor Thomas Mitchell who married Angeline Higdon around 1848-1849. They are in the 1850 Barren County, Kentucky census, married, no children. However, every attempt to locate a marriage record in that county––and about 10 of the closest surrounding counties––has turned up nothing. It could have been that they were married by a traveling minister who never turned in his records to the county. Or they eloped to some other state, maybe even changing their names. Or they never actually married.
When evaluating the records that have been left for us to interpret, (or perhaps not left, as the case may be), it is important to try to imagine what obstacles the record taker may have been dealing with such as language barriers, or the stress the informants may have been under. There are any number of factors to consider. If that doesn’t work, I try to imagine a scenario for the unknowns that helps me sleep at night. At least until I find that record…
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