Baehr-Evans Family History Ver. 22Feb2019

“No. Let them alone. I’m not done with them yet.” I knew what that meant. She must come up
again. Well, she came, talked to me a while, then said, “I’m going up to see Jim a minute. Will you
come along?” “No. You can’t do any worse than you have done.” I can see through a millstone
when the hole is big enough to put the mill through. He was with her all those two weeks, and she
came home with him. There’ll be another doctor’s bill to pay. During the winter, she got very much
interested in religion, would send for Frank H., a young widower, to come and talk to her, went to his
house to sew and sometimes stayed all night. About that time, I noticed a slight difference in Jim.
He brought in a little more to eat, and when Raymond was sick with fever and grip, he employed a
doctor and got his medicine. Along in March, Mama being here to do the work, I gave up and went
to bed. I was so worn out, I had to have a little rest. He came in the room and asked if he could do
anything for me, said he was sorry for the way he had acted and wanted to be good to me. I was so
overcome that I cried. Of course, I forgave him, taking for granted that he had given her up. He said
he didn’t care the snap of his finger for her, that Frank H had asked her to marry him. That he didn’t
think she was “straight” and a great deal more that led me to believe he was glad to be rid of her.
That night he said he wanted me to come upstairs and stay with him. I said I couldn’t sleep away
from the fire now but would when it got warmer. In the meantime, if he would let me to the hospital
for treatment, while Mama was here to keep house, there might be a chance of my getting well. He
said, “All right” and gave me a check for $15 to get clothes. While I was making them, I noticed little
by little that she was getting around him again. I guess she found she couldn’t get Frank and was
determined to have Jim back again. His manner changed again. He began bringing false charges
against Raymond and Mama. Said if I went away, he would board, and they could look out for
themselves, and every day she would come up home in time to stop him as he came to dinner and
stand talking for half an hour. Well, just as I was about ready to go, he got sick, and I had to wait on
him, so I went upstairs to sleep. Then he worked on my feelings, said he couldn’t stand the expense
of the hospital treatment and if I would stay at home, he would get my medicine.

July 8, 1896

“Until the daybreak and the shadows fell away.” I am sure the day is breaking, and the shadows
are lifting, for no matter how trying the circumstances are I am never overcome with grief. I never
waste a tear in self pity now. I never have the blues or “high strikes” or anything of the kind. It seems
as though the Lord has given me a divine anesthetic and though I know the pain is there am not so
sensitive to it as I once was. All summer friendly relations were maintained most of the time.
Raymond worked in the store, and his papa gave him a suit of clothes he had gotten for himself and
didn’t like. Mama stayed here and helped with the work, so I could take in sewing and fancy work.
Jim gave me two dollars per month for medicine until October and then stopped without explanation.
When winter came I needed warm clothing and made a suggestion to that effect, receiving in return
the information that he had too everlasting many people to keep and had no money to spare. That
was enough. I got more sewing to do, and Raymond got work in the pottery. He could help get
things to eat, and so we lived better. All this time the conviction was becoming stronger that I was
doing wrong in giving up my person to him. He had worked on my feelings, pleading physical
necessity, etc. Solemnly declared that he had never been intimate with anyone else, that he had too
much self respect and all that. I watched and waited. On the side of the orchard next to the R.R.
there is a broken place in the fence from where there is a path leading to an apple tree under which
the grass is all trampled down. One day I found a piece of corset string there on a grapevine, close
by a long, light hair. Still I knew it would be no use to say anything. Time went on until April when I
found out he was getting the store fixed up very nicely. Always before that when he went to
Pittsburgh, on business he would leave the valise containing watches, etc. at home and tell me he
wouldn’t be home to dinner. Now he would take it with him and say he would leave it in the charge
of the druggist next door. I saw he was trying to keep something from me and was pretty sure he
had somebody there.

~ 146~

One day I had to go to Beaver to see about some sewing. Coming home on the streetcar past
the store, I saw Lu standing in the door. Just then he ran and jumped on without stopping the car
and when he saw me his face got read as fire. “Uh,” said I, “you’ve got a typewriter, have you?”
“Oh, yes. I’ve got two.” Nothing more was said on the subject. He paid my fare, helped me off, and
went on to Beaver Falls. Shortly afterwards, I went to Beaver again and having an errand at the
drugstore, thought I would go in and see how they treated me. Well, I was never so glad to get out
in the fresh air in all my life. One would think from their manner that I had no business there and
ought to apologize to them for living. I didn’t call again.

About this time, he quit coming home to dinner, would send out and get the finest luxuries he
could find, and they would lunch together. People who went in the store would tell what they saw.
So, I gave my perplexity to the Lord, told Him I was His, body and soul, and if He didn’t want me to
be polluted in this way, to make a way of escape. So, one evening Jim came in at bed time and
says, “I wish you would go in the other room to sleep, you thrash around so all night. I can’t get any
rest.” I said, “All right,” then I praised the Lord. “Deliverance had come.”

Now I will never be enslaved again. Now I know there is nothing in the way of living a holy life. I
always felt that the Lord intended His people to control themselves, except for reproduction, but
when I found everyone against me, I hadn’t the courage of my convictions. To come down to a fine
point, what is the difference between selfish indulgence among the married and the unmarried? I
claim that the man who looks on his wife to lust after her is committing adultery and is no better than
a libertine. The woman who is “subject to her husband” in return for board and clothes is no better
than a prostitute, the only difference being the professional prostitute gets the most money, for a
man will starve his wife to buy finery for one who is her inferior in every respect.

******************************************End of Journal ***************************************************

James died October 17, 1907. He left nothing in his will to his wife, Mary Emma. I give devise
and bequeath to Miss Lula P. Harn, four shares of stock of Beaver Trust Company; three shares of
stock of Beaver Realty Company; all of my collection of Gold, Silver, Nickel, and Copper Coins and
fractional currency contained in a box in my safe Deposit Box in Beaver Trust Company Vault and
my chiffonier. Mary Emma’s diary ended with the entry of Miss Lulu P. Harn into Jim’s life. A great
deal of inheritance was left to Jim’s granddaughter, Winola Caler (Rauss) who is also mentioned in
a journal written by my mother, Mary Caler Baehr, and in Daveie Raus’s personal account.

By 1910, Miss Lula Pearl Harn was a boarder in her sister’s home on Market Street in Bridgewater,
Beaver County, Pennsylvania. Miss Lula stated that she was a retail jeweler. She was 37 years old
and single. A boarder in that house was Edward Stansberry, 40 years old and single. He worked in
a jewelry store and was a repairman. Lula’s sister, Alice E. Harn Hitchin, 40, had been married to
Thomas Hitchin for eighteen years. Thomas was 40 years old, a laborer in the steelmill. He came
from England in 1880. Their children were James, 17 and Lula M., 3. Also, in the house was a niece,
Grace Field, 10.

. By April of the same year (1910), Mary Emma Edelblute Caler lived in Coshocton City, Ohio and
was a companion in the home of Allen Rinehart, 43, and his wife Belle, 37. There were two Rinehart
children, Ray, 18, and Lester, 10. Mary Emma had been a widow for three years and was listed as
a dressmaker working on her own account sewing. The house was in Tuscasawes Township.

By 1910, Mary Emma’s son, Ray (Raymond Robert), had moved to Ashtabula and was married
to Lola Alleman, 28. They had two children Winola, 10, born in Pennyslvania and Charles, 8. Charles
died at the age of 9. My mother Mary Caler Baehr tells about the grief Ray carried after the death of
his beloved son Charlie. Ray and Lola divorced soon afterwards. I have not been able to find
divorce records. Perhaps Ray and Lola simply parted. Ray married Bessie Mahar Kelly, a widow,
in 1918. Mary Emma Edelblute Caler died October 12, 1942 in Warren, Ohio. (5)

~ 147~

Endnotes: Part Two: Chapter Two

1. There were Ecoffs in Beaver County. One was Lenas Ecoff, age 1, male, born in Pennsylvania
in 1849, died in Borough Township, Beaver County, September 1850. Source: Mortality Schedule
Pennsylvania; film # 899,736, LDS Library, Orange, CA.
2. Dictionary of Surnames: Patrick Hanks and Flavia Hodges, Oxford University Press, New York,
1989.
3 Steubenville, Jefferson County, Ohio, was originally Fort Steuben. It was named for Prussian

Baron Frederick Von Steuben, Revolutionary War hero. The fort was in use from 1786-1790, built
to protect surveyors from hostile Indians.
4. Mame is the nickname of Mary Emma Edelblute Caler. My mother, Mary Caler Baehr, was also
called Mame or Maime.
5. In June 2018, I began e-mail communication with David Edelblute through our ancestor line from
Nathan Greene Edelblute, born 1837. New information will be forthcoming on the Edelblutes.
And, research continues.

~ 148~

Chapter Three

MAHAR/MAHER FAMILY

My mother’s
grandparents on her
mother’s side were

John Mahar, born
December 1843 in

County Mayo,
Ireland, and Mary
Glynn, born about

1851 or 1854,
County Clare,

Ireland.

They were married in
Methven, Perth,

Scotland, on January
9, 1871.

John Mahar Mary Glynn Mahar

John was an agricultural laborer, as was his father before him. His father was Patrick Maehar.
His mother was Susan Fox. Mary Glynn was the daughter of Patrick Glen and Mary Honrohan. John
and Mary’s first child, Patrick, was born December 6, 1871, in Dunblane, Perth, Scotland. Patrick is
Uncle Pat who is mentioned in my mother's journal. The second child was Mary Mahar, born in
Clackmannan, Clackmannan County, Scotland, on August 2, 1873. My mother once mentioned a
child named Mary, who died of scarlet fever at age 2 on November 9, 1875 in New Sauchie, Parish
of Clackmanan. John and Mary had seven more children in Scotland, John, 1875; Susan, 1878;
James, 1879; Thomas, 1881; Timothy, 1885. (In 1886, John was working as a gardener on the
grounds of Braco Castle near Cambushinie.) Their next child, my grandmother, Bessie (Betsy), was
born in the Gardener’s Cottage at the castle on January 3, 1887. Mark was born in 1890.

John Mahar, 49, and his oldest sons, possibly just Patrick, 20, and John, arrived in America from
Glasgow, Scotland, June 15, 1892 aboard the vessel Corean. They found work in Youngstown,
Mahoning County, Ohio. When enough money was earned, John sent for Mary and the other
children. Their tenth child, Catherine (Katie), was born April 4, 1894 in Youngstown, Ohio.

At one point, Mary, 51, returned to Scotland, as I found her sailing to America with son Thomas,
23, on the August 1905 passenger list for the vessel SS Caledonia.

Two of their sons served in the Great War (World War One). I have discharge information from
Private Mark Mahar.

~ 149~

John died October 15, 1912 at the age of 69. The cause of death was acute albuminuria and
chronic nephritis. Mary died January 14, 1920 at the age of 69. The cause of death was myocarditis
and La Grippe.

The Mahars remained very Irish in their traditions. According to the January 2, 1920 Census,
Mary’s native tongue was Scotch (sic), although, I believe Mary spoke Irish/Gaelic. Bessie claimed
that being born in Scotland did not make an Irishman Scottish, any more than being born in a barn
made one a horse.

Note: The Mahar/Maher name was spelled with an “a” or with an "e". My mother said that some
of the Youngstown family used “a” in the spelling and the people in Warren, Ohio, used the “e.” I
shall attempt to maintain that system.

A LIST OF BESSIE MAHER CALER’S IRISH SAYINGS

1. A whistling woman and a crowing hen always come to an unhappy end.
2. It is bad luck to sing at the dinner table.
3. The first person walking into a house Christmas morning should be a man; a woman brings bad
luck.
4. It is bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding ceremony on the day of the
wedding.
5. If your left-hand itches, you will be receiving money; if your right hand or your nose itches, you
are going to kiss a fool.
6. If your ears burn, someone is talking about you.
7. If someone visiting you comes in one door and goes out the other, it is bad luck.
8. If you put your dress on inside-out, it is bad luck to change it.
9. If a bird hits your window, there will be a death in the house.
10. If you drop a fork, you will have company.
11. If you break a board, you will break your neck.
12. If you sing before breakfast, you will cry before night.
13. If you start to go somewhere and find you have forgotten something and have to go back to
the house for it, sit down and count to seven before you go out again. If not, you will have bad luck
or an accident.
14. Bad luck never comes alone. After one upset, two more will follow.
15. Cover all mirrors during a wake.
16. If you eat on the toilet, it will rain soon

~ 150~

Chapter Four

THE JOURNAL OF MARY CALER BAEHR

Mary Caler Baehr, 1980

GRANDMOTHER MARY EMMA EDELBLUTE CALER
Mary Emma Edelblute Caler was the only grandparent we ever knew. She was a small lady,
very neat and tidy, and always looked so cute. When she would dress up to walk to town, she always
wore a hat and gloves and in the summer time, she carried her black umbrella to protect her skin.
At home she always wore a white apron.
Grandma always lived with us. She always had her own room and spent most of her time there.
She sewed and darned and mended constantly. She could cut down adult clothes and make us
dresses. She made all our clothes. Mother would buy white flour sacks, bleach them and then
Grandma would make slips and bloomers for all the girls. Initials were embroidered on each item to
save Mother time and confusion. On wash day, all the clean socks were brought to Grandma. She
sorted and folded them and did any necessary darning. Our socks were also identified with her
markings. On ironing day, Mother put aside anything that needed a button or a patch, and Grandma
took care of it.
Grandma was an early riser, so she had her cup of Postum and piece of toast long before the
rest of us. Lunch was a family meal. Usually, Dad came home from work. Dinner was the same,
with eight or nine of us around the table.
Every night after dinner, regardless of weather, Grandma would go out on the back porch and
there she would belch. Sometimes we could hear her, and we would all sit around the table and
giggle. She would then come inside and do all the dishes for Mother.

~ 151~

Catherine and I took over the dishwashing when we were older. Grandma taught me how to darn socks,
how to hem stitch and roll a hem, and how to purl. Aunt Susan Mahar taught me how to knit. I used to love
to sit in my grandmother’s room and do needlework with her.

Grandma couldn't go downstairs during the night to go to the bathroom, so she always kept a slop jar in
her closet. We named it Jennie. When Grandma was out of her room, we would sneak in and use Jennie.
She would get so angry! One Sunday when Catherine and I were in her closet, the door closed, and the
latch fell, and we couldn't get out. We screamed and screamed for half an hour. Mother and Dad could
hear us, but they let us suffer in order to teach us a lesson. Believe me, from then on, we stayed out of
Grandma's closet.

We used to love to hide under her bed. When she sat down to sew, we would reach out and pinch her
legs. She would tolerate us just so long, then she would grab her yardstick and shoo us out of the room.

One day, Dad brought home a nasty trick to fool Mother with. She wasn't fooled. Catherine said, "Please,
Daddy! Can we fool Grandma?" It was a piece of plaster made to look like a load of ____. We slipped it into
Grandma's room and began to scream. "Grandma! Grandma! Look what Jimmy did on your floor!” She
jumped out of her chair and started yelling. "Get me some paper! Get me some paper!" Catherine said,
"That's okay, Grandma. I'll pick it up." When my sister picked it up bare-handed, Grandma nearly fainted.

Grandma spent several hours a day reading her Bible and saying her prayers. She belonged to the
Christian Missionary and Alliance Church. She feared for our salvation, as we were being raised in the
Catholic Church. After Tiny, Jimmy, and Gerry attended 8:00 Mass every Sunday, she would drag them to
her church service.

When I was about 14, one of her church friends talked her into moving in with her. Coincidentally
Grandma began collecting Old Age Pension at that time. We missed her so much but didn't feel free to go
and visit her at Mrs. Hughes'. Grandma stayed with the Hughes, paying for room and board, for about six
months. Then one day she walked over to our house and asked Mother if she could come back home. Of
course, we all wanted her back and Mother didn't take any of her money.

During my school years I always ran upstairs to show her my report cards or any honors I had
received.

Grandma was a consolation to all when my sister Catherine died in 1938. Grandma was failing but was
still alert when Dad died in 1939. As her son had, she suffered many small strokes over the years and
became bedridden soon after his death. When I came home from California in 1940, she really didn't know
me.

She never lost her good appetite. If her meals were not on time, she would bang her cane on the floor
as hard as she could. Jimmy or Mother carried her meals to her three times a day. Mother kept her
spotlessly clean. She died quietly in October 1942.

~ 152~

BESSIE MAHER CALER BAEHR

My mother, Bessie Maher, had an
eighth-grade education. When she
went to work as a young girl, her
only choice of employment was that
of a domestic. Her first job was in
the Stambaugh home, Youngstown
millionaires.

Bessie at left with daughters and
son in 1949.

Tiny Dohar, Bessie (Mom) Maher Kelly Caler, Paul
Kelly, Mary Baehr, Gerry Challenger

She used to tell us about the young Stambaugh girl who gave birth to a baby but did not
recover. She lived for ten days in great pain. After her death, the doctor discovered an unborn,
dead baby still in her womb. It was very tragic, as the young girl had so much to live for.

Another tragedy in the family was when the elder Stambaughs were among the lost passengers
on the Titanic.

It was about this time that Mother met her first husband, Daniel Kelly. She was out walking with
an old girlfriend, when he appeared on the scene. He was the girl's cousin. After being properly
introduced, Bessie and Dan soon started courting. Dan was quite a ladies' man and he quickly
charmed the young girl. One day they slipped off and were married at the _______Church. The
marriage was not a happy one, as Dan refused to settle down and was out "with the boys" every
night. She became pregnant immediately, but he still didn't change. One evening as he was
preparing to go out, she gave an ultimatum.

"If you leave this house tonight, I will not be here when you come home." He left. She did, too,
and she went back home with her parents and that was the end of her unhappy association with
Dan. Paul was born May 29, 1911. She immediately went back to work, and Grandma Mary Glynn
Mahar watched over the baby. Poor young Katie Mahar (Collins) was also pregnant at this time.
Her son, Thomas, was born in November of the same year. Paul and Tom were exact opposites,
but they were close friends all their lives.

Mother worked in a bank building downtown scrubbing offices on her hands and knees. She
turned over all her money to her mother.

She was always grateful to a doctor who took pity on her after seeing the condition of her teeth.
She had advanced pyorrhea. In those days, it was the custom to remove all the teeth and insert
dentures. She was 24 years old!

~ 153~

Eventually, she found employment with the family of Henry Todd, another millionaire. They were
good and generous employers. They allowed her to take home butter, left-overs, cream, and soap.
They would use a bar of soap for a few days, then discard it for a new bar. Mother made two lasting
friends at the Todds--Nellie Roach and Nora____, who later married George Alexander. Mr. Todd
offered to invest part of the girls' salaries in the stock market. Nellie and Nora agreed, but Grandma
Mahar would have none of it! Mother had to turn over all her money! Nellie stayed at Todds' for the
rest of her working days and was a wealthy woman. Mother was walking home one day, and she
was shocked when a painter whistled and said, "I sure love black." She was highly insulted and
hated the man who whistled at her. A week or so later, Nora and George introduced her to the rude
painter. He was Raymond Robert Caler, her second husband and my father.

Dad was separated from his first wife, Lola. They had one daughter, Winola. They had lost a
son, named Charlie, years before. Dad was never able to forget his little son. Old songs could easily
trigger sad memories and he would cry. I can remember asking Mother, "What's the matter with
Daddy?" She would tell me that he was thinking of Charlie. Dad and Mother were married by the
Justice of the Peace in Youngstown, July 25, 19__. Catherine was born August 26, 1919, Mary on
January 15, 1922, Elizabeth (Tiny) prematurely on October 12, 1924, Jimmy on October 20, 1926,
and Geraldine (Gerry) on October 18, 1927.

Our parents weren't kids--Mother was about 28 and Dad was about 38 when they married. With
each baby came "tch's" of disapproval from her sisters. I can remember the day when Gerry was
born. I was 5 years old. Catherine and I knew we heard a baby cry but were told it was Jimmy.
Aunt Susan came early that morning--made many trips up and down the stairs--but wouldn't allow
us in Mother's bedroom. Aunt Susan fed us, cleaned up the house, and when it was time to leave
she went to the foot of the stairs and called up to Mother. "I hope you're satisfied." Mother carried
this hurt for the rest of her life.

I can't remember any of my life before living on Dana Avenue. I was born on Second Street,
Warren, Ohio. The doctor was John Willoughby. I was born at meal time and Mother said that she
could never fill me up. I remember receiving a cedar chest full of candy on Catherine's 4th birthday.
Dad bought us each a cedar chest--I have mine. Jimmy played carpenter and broke Catherine's all
apart.

One day, Dad pulled a pair of pearl beads out of his pocket. I was so thrilled! I'm sure they came
from the 5 & 10, but I loved them.

One day as I was sitting on the sidewalk all alone, I wet my pants on purpose. I sat and watched
the sun dry up the water. About a week later I developed a sty on my eye. My mother spoke to me
very seriously. "Mary, did you wet on the sidewalk?"I was so shocked. How did she know? "Yes,"
I murmured. She said, "Whenever little girls wet on the sidewalk, they always get a sty." I can
remember having more stys in my lifetime, but I never wet on the sidewalk again.

Nora and George used to come to our house almost every Sunday. They had dinner with us and
always loved Mother's excellent cooking. One Sunday Catherine and I were playing in Dad's new
car, a Kessel. Catherine suddenly decided to get out of the car. I said, "I'm coming, too;" but she
didn't hear me, and bang went the door on my thumb. I yelled a lot. Dad came running out and
carried me into the house. My thumb was bandaged, and I promptly fell asleep on my father's lap.
When the meal was served, I was laid on the couch and I slept through the dinner. Several weeks
later, I lost my thumb nail.

Mother sent Catherine and me to the grocery store every day. Catherine was 6 and I was 4. One
day, Catherine talked me into stealing a cookie at Sabatini's store. Just as I picked it out of the bin,
Catherine said to Mrs. Sabatini, "That girl stole a cookie." Mrs. Sabatini gave me a lecture, but she
let me keep the cookie. Outside the store Catherine demanded her half! I didn't think that she
deserved it, but I shared the cookie.

~ 154~

One day, I found some ad-fliers that Paul had failed to deliver. I went from door-to-door trying to
sell them for 5 cents each. I was almost all the way around the block, when I finally found a generous
young man who offered me a penny. I eagerly took the penny and as I went down his porch steps,
I saw Mother! She and Dad had been looking all over the neighborhood for me. I was given a
scolding and told never, never to go off like that again.

When I was 5 I trotted off to Kindergarten. Every day I drew a picture and was convinced that I
would grow up to be an artist like Dad. The only brand-new coat I ever had as a child was a blue
chinchilla, trimmed with fur, with a matching hat. The first day that I wore it to school, my teacher,
Miss Jones exclaimed, "My goodness, we have a new little girl in our class." I said, "No. It's me!
Mary!"

I was so proud of my coat. On the way home from school some naughty boys pulled my hat off
and threw it in the mud. I picked it up and went home crying. Mother marched me up the street,
where she went to the home of the boys, and showed their mother my soiled hat. They never
bothered me again.

The most bountiful Christmas I ever remember was on Dana Street. I can remember relatives
and friends coming with bushel baskets of gifts. Dad was earning good money in those days and I
am sure that they gave in return. When Aunt Bessie Brown Maher came in (Uncle Tom's wife) she
dropped her presents and cried, "I have to wee--wee!" We were shocked, but secretly admired her
naughtiness.

Early Christmas morning, Catherine and I tippy-toed down stairs and opened every gift under the
tree! Our horrified parents had quite a time trying to figure out what belonged to whom. The amazing
thing is, we weren't even punished.

Many other things happened in those early years. I almost burned down the garage. I loved to
play with matches. One day, Catherine picked some blisters on my back with a safety pin. Mother
caught her in the act and quickly recognized the blisters as chicken pox. I called my dad a big bum,
then ran outside and fell into a deep ditch. Just as two boys were pulling me out, Dad drove by and
said, "That's what happens when you call your daddy a bum."

I have no recollection of the move from Dana Avenue to Siddels Court; although, I was 6 years
old. Probably Catherine and I were in Youngstown. Catherine went to St. Mary's School, but I was
enrolled at Market Street School a half block away. When I asked why I couldn't go with Catherine,
I was informed that I couldn't attend the Catholic school because I wasn't baptized. I really didn't
know what Baptism meant, but I felt like an outcast along with Tiny, Jimmy and Gerry.

Our local pastor didn't have much compassion on people who were not married in the Church.
When Catherine was born, she was taken to Mother's life long parish, Immaculate Conception, in
Youngstown. Aunt Katie and Uncle Matt were her godparents.

I remember being taken to that same church, along with Tiny, where we were finally baptized.
Paul and Aunt Susan were our godparents. Years later Tiny and I stood up for Jimmy and Gerry--
they were at least 6 and 7. Two older boys from school were godfathers.

I entered St. Mary's School in the Second Grade and made my First Communion when I was 8
years old. Friday after school until Sunday morning before receiving our First Communion, we were
"on retreat." That meant that we weren't allowed to speak one word. I did pretty well until Saturday
morning. Tiny and I were playing jacks. She started cheating and I started yelling. I was brought
into the house, given a lecture, and told to sit in the bedroom for the rest of the day.

~ 155~

In about 1930, we acquired our first and only boarder. Calvin Hagerty applied for work and Dad
hired him as an apprentice. We called him Charlie. When Dad discovered that Charlie was an
orphan with no place to live, he brought him home and he stayed with us for about a year. Charlie
had spent his life in an orphanage run by the Elks Club. He was a nice young man and we were all
crazy about him. Charlie eventually met and married a girl named Lucille Reed. We didn't care for
her. She seemed tough, and according to Mother, wasn't good enough for Charlie. When Charlie left
us, we inherited his police dog named Rudy. I had mixed feelings about Rudy. Once when he chewed
up a favorite dress of mine, I wanted to kill him. At noon every work day, we would gather on the
front steps waiting for Daddy to turn the corner. When he appeared, all five of us went screaming
down the street to meet him. One day, Rudy went running right between my legs, leaving me
sprawled in the middle of the street. Again, I wanted to kill him.

Someone--I don't know who--stored his piano at our house for a few months. We children
weren't allowed to touch it, but at night Dad would play tunes and sing for us. He also played the
accordion, mouth organ, and musical saw. He played by ear, but we all thought he was a genius.
In his youth, he had belonged to a barber shop quartet. He always sang the sentimental old tunes.
Mother sang a lot, too. Her favorites were Scottish and Irish tunes sung with a brogue. My favorite
song was "Mary of the Wild Moors." It always made me cry.

The depression had started, but we didn't feel it too much at first. Caler & Moser Sign Company
was doing well, but it was becoming harder and harder for them to collect over-due bills.

We always had pretty clothes thanks to Grandma. She was busy sewing and mending all the
time. She would cut down adult clothes and make them look like new. She even made coats! Every
Christmas for years Nellie Roach brought material for dresses for all four girls.

We always enjoyed Nellie's visits. Her clothes always smelled so good. We loved carrying her
fur coat to the bedroom, so we could run our hands through the fur. Many years later I discovered
that her scent was Coty's Emeraude. When I was able to buy my first perfume, you can bet it was
Emeraude.

We children didn't realize it, but money was getting harder to come by. Dad apparently fell behind
in the rent. We had to move to Logan Avenue where the rent was cheaper. I was thrilled to be living
across the street from my best friend, Melba De Scenna.

About this time Mother started sending Catherine and me to the bakery to buy day old bread. We
were so embarrassed and always hoped we wouldn't run into any of our friends. Other changes
were being made. We bought oleo instead of butter, hamburger instead of ground round, but we
always had good meals.

One hot summer day Mother gave me 10 cents to take Tiny downtown to buy her a tablet. I didn't
want to go and showed my resentment. We were half way down Market Street, when I talked Tiny
into buying a tablet at the drugstore. Then I decided we should walk downtown anyway. When we
returned with the thin tablet instead of the jumbo size that we could have bought at the 5&10, Mother
really lost her temper. I was ten years old and received my first hard spanking. I was too stubborn
to cry and that made Mother angrier. She really wasn't very strong and I'm sure she was more
exhausted than I.

The stock market crash wiped out (Aunt Katy Maher Collins’ husband) Uncle Matty's business
immediately. They lost their fabulous home at 641 West Earl Avenue and moved into an old mansion
on Wick Avenue. Wick Avenue was a very prestigious street with many beautiful old homes. Many
of the homes were abandoned by the rich, and the poor weren't able to heat them in the winter. So,
along this avenue were many beautiful homes empty and neglected.

The old house was gorgeous, but soon Aunt Susan (who lived with Katy and Matty) realized that
it was too expensive to keep up. They moved to McGuffy Avenue.

~ 156~

Aunt Susan became a dressmaker and had quite a good clientele. Uncle Matty started drinking
for the first time in his life and became an alcoholic. Aunt Katie went to cosmetology school and
became a beauty operator. Tom was a very serious student. He graduated from Rayen High, went
to an art school, and attended Youngstown College. (Katy, Matty, their son Tom and Aunt Susan
moved to California about 1936.)

During my tenth summer while visiting my aunt and uncle, Aunt Katie gave me my first permanent
wave and when I returned home, the family had moved to Prospect Street! The house was very old
and even had a barn in the back. It was Mother's favorite. We were there only about six months,
when we moved again. This time we moved right around the corner on Summit Street. We all hated
the Summit Street house and were happy to move a few months later.

All these moves became a source of embarrassment to me. All my friends' parents stayed in one
house. I would cringe when I had to tell my schoolmates that we had moved again. The reason for
our many moves was a lack of money. Dad would fall behind in the rent. It was easier to move than
to catch up on the payments.

Dad and Ed Moser had broken up their partnership and Dad was on his own. His new signature
was "Bob Caler Himself." Dad was a wonderful craftsman, but not a good businessman. Mother
knew that he was making a mistake, but he was determined to go his own way.

Dad had high blood pressure and had his first small stroke when Jimmy was a baby. Over the
years he had many more small strokes. We children weren't aware of his condition, but Mother was.

We stayed on Atlantic Street for about two years. We were a little poorer each year, but always
had warm clothes and enough to eat. It was on Atlantic Street that Tiny became very ill. She had
ruptured appendix with peritonitis. In those days, it was a fatal condition, but miraculously she lived.
After weeks in the hospital, she came home very weak and fragile. Mother and Dad worried about
her for the rest of their lives. Tiny had an enormous appetite, but she stayed quite thin.

We had a long walk to school, but always enjoyed it. Catherine and I each had a good friend to
walk with. We moved once again to Youngstown Road. This was my ninth home in thirteen years.

One night at the dinner table, Dad dropped his fork. Mother gently led him from the table and had
him lie down on the bed. He had had a severe stroke. There was no medication nor therapy at that
time, so he was slow on recovering. His business had failed, but he had kept working by painting
signs in our kitchen. A few times he even painted houses. We used to carry his lunch to him in the
summer days and we could see how tired and weary he was.

One summer day while staying in Youngstown, my little girlfriend told me that my half brother
Paul Kelly was married. I was 13 years old. I had always thought that Paul was perfect. He couldn't
have run off and married someone he hardly knew. After all, he had been engaged to Mary
MacCormish for seven years. I called her a liar and ran home to ask Aunt Susan. It was true. He
had known Frances for only four months! Frances had a hard time with all of us, especially with
Mother. We just didn't think anyone was good enough for our Paul.

Peggy Kelly was born a year later and Peachie (Catherine) seventeen months after that. Frances
was a good wife and mother, but the marriage wasn't happy. Paul started drinking. Paul had been
drinking ever since he was sixteen years old. We had never seen him drunk because he did his
drinking in Youngstown. It was a horrible shock to us.

In November of 1937, Florence Waldeck, a long-time friend of Mother and Dad's, asked if she
could take Catherine to Florida for six months. It was a wonderful opportunity for Catherine and she
was eager to go. Catherine had quit school in the tenth grade and her future looked bleak. A trip to
Florida was an answer to her prayers so she was permitted to go.

~ 157~

I was in the Tenth Grade at Harding High School at that time. I loved the public schools, loved all
my teachers, and was a model student, a far cry from the rebellious Mary Caler of St. Mary's School.
There I had been very popular with my classmates, but I was always in trouble with the nuns. I'm
sure that they expected me to come to a bad end!

By this time Aunt Katie, Uncle Matty, Tom and Aunt Susan had been in California for over a year.
They had wanted me to go along with them, but I hadn't been allowed.

Catherine was a companion to Mrs. Waldeck, so she did earn some money. She wrote glowing
letters, marveling at the beauty and sunshine. She saved all of her money and at Christmas time,
she sent all of us lovely gifts. My present was a beautiful Kelly-green sweater. We loved her letters,
but at the same time we were anxious to have her back.

In the early spring, Gerry came down with scarlet fever. Our house was full of people at that time.
There were eight Calers, four Kellys, and then Agnes and Bob Stewart piled in on us! We girls
slept in the attic. There were three bedrooms upstairs and Mother and Dad converted the dining
room into a bedroom. Jimmy slept on a cot in their room. Gerry was put on a cot. Mother kept
her well isolated from the rest of us. We were all under quarantine. I was furious because I had to
lose six weeks of school. Gerry was a very sick little girl; but lucky for us, no one else caught her
fever.

It was a time of great sorrow for all of us. Dad had another stroke and this attack sent him to the
hospital. On top of that, Mother received word that Catherine was in a Florida hospital with ruptured
appendix. Grandma gave Mother the money to take the train to Florida. Mother was with Catherine
for the week, then Catherine died. Uncle Tom came up from Youngstown to go to the hospital to
break the awful news to Dad. It was such a sad time. Mother took it very hard. Poor Dad was dulled
by sickness and wasn't as affected as he would have been had he been healthy. His illness was a
blessing, as he could never stand to see any of his children suffer.

Frances and I had yellow jaundice at this time, but it went unnoticed because of all the other
sadness. Dad and Mother were a sorrowful pair at the funeral. Grandma and many of our relatives
attended. Monsignor Fasnacht gave a beautiful sermon, but it was a very difficult time for all of us.

Catherine had been a beautiful girl, kind, loving and generous. She had always been a good
daughter and Mother never got over her loss. Catherine died on May 9, 1938 on Mother's Day. I
had missed three quarters of my second semester at Harding High; but I went back to school and
was able to pass all my classes.

Aunt Katie had fallen off a horse a few months before Catherine died. Once again she asked if I
could go to California to help her with her housework. I really wanted to go. Our house had turned
into a "mad house" with too many people, too much confusion, and too much sorrow. I was thrilled
when Mother finally relented and told Aunt Katie that I could go. I packed my small suitcase and
was off to a new and beautiful world! California, here comes Mary Caler. I was never the same
again.

~ 158~

PAUL KELLY

May 29, 1911-- January 15, 1979

Paul was the son of Bessie Maher and Daniel
Kelly. Dan Kelly was a heavy drinker, so they
separated soon after the marriage. Paul never
knew his father, as Dan died shortly after his son
was born.

< Bridget Mahar and Daniel Leo Kelly 1910

Bessie M. Kelly married Raymond Robert
Caler when Paul was about six years old. She
proceeded to have five children in about eight
years. Paul was only a child, but he had to clean
house and wash diapers for all or most of the
Caler children.

My father’s mother, Mary Emma Edelblute Caler, lived with them from the very beginning of their
marriage. Grandma really loved Paul and treated him as one of her own. He in turn loved Grandma
very much and was very close to her. My mother, her mother, (Mary Glynn Mahar) and Mother’s
sisters, Susan and Catherine all dearly loved Paul and tended to spoil him. My father, Raymond
Robert Caler, was insanely jealous of the little boy. It was very hard on Mother, as she was torn
between them always. This feeling existed all through his life with Dad. He went to school and used
the name Caler, but he was never adopted by Dad.

He was a good boy and a handsome one. He learned early in life that the girls were crazy about
him and he made the most of it. He quit school in the eighth grade and went to work. One of my
earliest memories is waiting for him to come home from work. At noon each day, I would stand out
front and wait until I saw him around the corner. I would then run up and meet him, hold his hand,
and chatter all the way home. One day I thought I saw him. I ran up, grabbed the boy’s hand, and
talked all the way until I stopped in front of my house. The boy kept walking. I looked up at him and
he was a complete stranger. I couldn’t have been more than four years old.

Paul bought me the first beautiful doll (and the only one) I ever owned. He worked in a
department store. Late one Christmas Eve he bought a soiled doll for one dollar. He brought it home;
Mother got out of bed. She washed and ironed the doll clothes and cleaned the doll’s face. It was
like new for me on Christmas morning. I was about six years old and really loved that little doll. One
of my younger sisters or brother left her (Bubbles) in the damp cellar and her body disintegrated. I
felt very sad and was never again to have a good doll.

Paul spent a great deal of time in Youngstown, the home of all the Mahar clan. It was during his
visits to Youngstown that he started drinking, probably at the age of fifteen or sixteen. All of the
relatives knew about it, but no one ever told Mother. We all thought he was perfect! One day when
I was six or seven, Mother and I went to Youngstown on the street car. We then caught a bus to go
‘cross town. Paul boarded the bus and was very drunk. It must have broken Mother’s heart. When
it was time for us to get off the bus, we went out the back door. So, he never saw us. Of course,
when he found out we had seen him, he promised her it would never happen again.

~ 159~

During the Depression, he and a buddy hitchhiked across the country. They were headed for
California, but California wasn’t allowing transients into the state at that time. I can remember the
morning he came back home. We all gathered around him, Mother crying, and even Dad hugged
him. She fixed him a big breakfast and we all watched him eat and eat and eat!

He always had a job and contributed his money to the family. Mother would give him spending
money and he spent his weekends in Youngstown. He continued to drink down there, but we never
saw him under the influence in Warren.

He had many, many girlfriends. He went steady (in his fashion) with Mary McCormish for seven
years. She was away in Cleveland studying to be a nurse. Of course, he dated others. He knew
Frances for about four months when he married her. I was in Youngstown (about twelve years old)
and very upset when all the neighbor children told me that my brother was married. When he sobered
up he begged and begged her for an annulment, but she flatly refused. When he realized that he
was “stuck” as he put it, he no longer hid his drinking from anyone except Grandma. She never
knew that he drank. None of us was sympathetic towards Frances. We felt that she had taken him
away from us.

In all fairness to Frances, she loved him desperately. She took all the abuse and loved him more
each day. They had two children during those years, but I knew that he wasn’t faithful.

Meanwhile, he was a good son and a fabulous and generous brother. When I graduated from
the Ninth Grade, he spent his full week’s salary on me. He bought me two dresses, shoes and all
the neces- sary underwear. He took me on my first train ride (to Youngstown) when I was ten. He
introduced me to football games when I was twelve. At the games, he stopped every vendor and
bought me every goodie there was to buy.

When I was sixteen and went to California, he went on the bus with me as far as Cleveland. Then
he gave the bus driver detailed instructions for taking care of his innocent little sister. Two years
later when it was time for me to come home, he bought me my ticket.

I must admit that his drinking was a real problem. When I started dating, I became very upset at
times. But when he was sober, he was a wonderful person. Everyone liked him.

He gave me away at our wedding. He paid for breakfast for twenty-five people at the Park Hotel
and lent us his car for our honeymoon. Gas was rationed at the time, but the tank was full and we
had many extra stamps from him to buy more.

He joined the U. S. Marines even though he had a wife and two children. He probably joined to
escape the humdrum life in Warren. I’m sure that he was a hell raiser while he was in the Corps.
He made many friends while he was a Marine and kept in touch with some of them up until the end.
After he came home, they had two more children; although, it was never a two-sided love affair.

I left Warren in 1943 to live in Kentucky. After Bob’s discharge, we went to California. Paul was
still extremely handsome and drinking heavily. The biggest change I saw in him was when he came
to California in 1968 with Frances for a visit. He really looked like an old man. He had slowed down
with his drinking. He was a sick man. Later he had several bouts with problems related to alcohol.
He stopped drinking, but the damage was done. He died on January 15, my birthday, 1979.

~ 160~

MAHARS AND CALERS

John and Mary Mahar had ten children--six sons and four daughters. I will write briefly about the
boys, but the story is mainly about the three sisters and my life with them. The older sons, Patrick
and John, came to the United States from Scotland with their father between about 1886--July 1893.
They migrated to Youngstown, Ohio, where they were all employed by the Eire Rail Road. Soon
they were able to send Mary the passage fare for her and the rest of the family--Mark, James, Susan,
Thomas, Betsy and Timothy. Catherine was born in Youngstown in 1894. There was a space of
eight years between the births of Betsy (Bessie) and Catherine (Katie).

Patrick married Nora. They had four children. His was the only family to go to college and be-
come professionals: Paul, a medical doctor; John, a priest; Mary, a school teacher; and Joseph, a
successful businessman. Uncle Pat and Aunt Norie were very religious and much admired.

John married a much older woman, Kate. We often heard tales of her vulgar tongue. I recall the
names of only two children: Edgar and Mary. I met Edgar when I was eighteen while living with
Aunt Katie Maher Collins in California.

Mark, Tim and Jim were bachelors. Jim, a World War I veteran, picked up his lunch bucket one
morning, left for work and never returned. There was always an air of mystery surrounding his
disappear- ance. His mother never failed to set his place at the dinner table and never stopped
hoping he would return home. Tim was killed by a hit-and-run driver on a lonely country road. The
driver dragged the body onto a porch and left it to freeze in the snow. Mark spent his life in
Youngstown. He and Tom were very close. He died of cancer in 19--. Tom, also a World War One
veteran, married Bessie Brown in 19--. They had five children: Jack, who died as a young boy,
Agnes, Mary, Coletta, and James.

Now comes the real story, that of Susan, Bessie, and Kate. Susan, the eldest, never married. As
a young woman, she was a housekeeper for a priest. I always remember her living in a large house
caring for a dozen boarders--always Scotsmen. Katie, the spoiled baby, was, in my eyes, beautiful
and frivolous. Bessie, the sensitive one, was always envious of the close relationship between
Susan and Katie. Bessie was my mother and was scorned by the rest of the family because she
had the audacity to have six children. Paul was from her short-lived marriage to Daniel Kelly;
Catherine and I (Mary), Elizabeth (Tiny), James and Geraldine were from her happy marriage to
Raymond Robert (Bob) Caler.

My earliest memories of life are pleasant. I remember stories, songs, cooking and lots of playing.
I remember my father’s and my mother Bessie’s songs. Dad’s were romantic or sad; Mother’s were
always songs sung with an Irish or Scottish accent. My favorite was Mary of the Wild Moors. I would
always beg her to sing it even though it brought tears to me when poor Mary died.

I loved to help my mother cook. She always said, “I can never bake a thing without Mary’s head
hanging over the bowl.”

Another fond memory is that of my many days and weeks spent with Aunt Susan and Aunt Katie.
Katie married Matthew Collins one month before their son, Thomas, was born in 1911. According
to my mother, Matty was a border in the Senior Maher’s home. He seduced a very young (about
fifteen and a half) innocent child then returned to Scotland. He returned to Youngstown and married
her in time to give the child his name. Mother also said that Katie became pregnant again soon, but
Matty made her “get rid” of the baby. Katie obeyed him, but she vowed never to bear him another
child. She kept that vow. Was she frivolous as I had imagined or was it all a cover job? Susan lived
with the Collins family all the years of their married life, not as a dependent; but as a bread winner.
She maintained the large house, cooked, washed, and cleaned for a dozen boarders, the Collins
family and any nieces and nephews who happened to be around.

~ 161~

My brother Paul spent many days at her house. Catherine and I went often when we were very
young. As we grew older, Catherine preferred to stay at home; but I loved going to see Aunt Susan.
She punished us only once. We crossed the street and she made us go to the bedroom for our
punishment. Later the three of us walked down to the store and she bought us a big bag of Fig
Newtons.

During those young years I remember Aunt Katie as a pretty flapper. She was always dancing,
going to parties, playing golf--always playing. Susan was always cooking and baking fabulous cakes,
pies, cupcakes and cookies. I can still close my eyes and smell the delicious aroma. Another memory
is the sweet smell of Ivory soap that they used in the bathroom and kitchen.

I remember the Stock Market Crash in 1929. I was seven years old. I remember Dad’s walking
home from work at lunch time and his telling Mother that all the banks were closed. It was the start
of the Great Depression. Dad operated a sign painting shop with his partner Ed Moser. They kept
their business going, but they made a bare living. Ed was the promoter. Dad did all the sign painting.

Uncle Matty had become a very successful painting contractor, but he lost everything. He couldn’t
stand losing his beautiful home and business and took to drinking. After forty years as a non-smoker
and non-drinker, he became a hopeless drunk. I remember years and years of his drunkenness and
many embarrassing incidents. Through it all Aunt Susan continued with fewer boarders--most of
whom drank--and she also took in sewing. Eventually Aunt Katie went to beauty school and became
a beauty operator. She practiced her manicuring on any willing family member. I was the most willing
of all! I loved the luxurious manicures. She gave me my first permanent wave when I was ten.
During all the lean years we were always welcome in their home. I spent my summers there and
parts of my Christmas and Easter holidays.

Paul Kelly and Tom Collins were born six months apart and were always good friends. Paul was
happy-go-lucky; Tom was quiet and serious and a good student. Tom used to walk me to the
Youngstown Art Gallery where I would be the model for him and his buddies. I always felt very
important. The Caler family thrived. We always had enough to eat, but we moved a lot. I was born
on Second Street in Warren, Ohio. Then they moved to Harman Street, Dana Avenue (where Dad
made a brief attempt to own property), Siddles Court, Logan Avenue, Prospect Street, Summit
Street, Atlantic Street, Youngstown Road, Longfellow Court.

I remember always being happy. I had a lot of friends and was invited to all their parties. I was
a smart student, earned good grades, but the nuns thought I was a smart alec. I became sassy with
the nuns, only because I thought they didn’t like me. When I went to the public high school, I was a
model student because I felt that my teachers liked me.

Grandma Caler (Mary Emma Edelblute) was another of my favorite people. I remember her
always living with us. I remember Dad and Mother driving her to West Virginia to visit friends. How
we children would cry when Dad drove over the narrow mountain roads. Mother would tell us to sit
down on the floor of the car and we would quiet down. Grandma stayed in her room most of the
time. She made all our dresses, slips and panties. She mended and darned our clothes and she
even embroid- ered our initials on all our underwear and socks. She used to do the dinner dishes
for Mother. Mother greatly appreciated Grandma. There wasn’t a loving bond between them, but
they respected one another. When Grandma became sick, Mother nursed and cared for her for five
years. No daughter could have been kinder or more considerate. In 1936 (1935?) Tom’s art
teacher was able to obtain a job for him at MGM studios in California! MGMwas a magic word. It
meant the glamour of Hollywood, a good salary, life in the sunshine. It meant escape for a serious,
talented young man. It meant he could finally do something for his beloved mother and his aunt.
Tom went to his new job first. Aunt Katie and Aunt Susan managed to sober Uncle Matty up and
they headed for California on a Greyhound Bus.

~ 162~

Before they sold all their belongings, they came to Warren and asked Dad and Mother if I could
go to California with them. Dad and Mother just couldn’t let me go so far away.

During these years Dad’s health kept failing. He had lost his business, worked in his home
painting signs and even painted houses. He finally went on W.P.A. (Works Progress Association),
a government project that kept us off relief. He had small strokes over the years, each one leaving
him frailer.

Mother & Dad suffered much anguish in 19--
when Tiny spent months in the hospital with
ruptured appendix. In 1938 Catherine, (pictured)
who was always frail, died in Florida of ruptured
appendix. This was a terrible blow to Dad and a
devastating one to Mother.

Meanwhile in California, Tom moved quickly from office-boy into the art department. They lived
in a cute bungalow. Uncle Matty straightened up and started painting again. Aunt Susan became a
companion to an invalid lady. Uncle bought all new furniture, a car, and for the first time in years,
life was beautiful. They sent many glowing letters to us and pictures of them basking in the sunshine.
Aunt Katie and Tom even took up horseback riding. They bought beautiful riding habits and went
out every Sunday. (In December1937 they lived at 3708 Watseka Avenue, Los Angeles, California.)

The good life ended for Susan suddenly December 22, 1937. She had a severe stroke and went
quickly. She had lived a good life and was fortunate to have had a healthy life. She was about sixty-
four years old. (Cerebral Hemorrhage with Terminal Bronchial Pneumonia.)

I am sure that Aunt Katie, Uncle Matty and Tom missed Aunt Susan terribly. They had always
been together. Tom probably saw more of Susan than he did of his mother in his young years. She
was like a mother to all of us. At the time of Catherine’s death, Aunt Katie was thrown from a
horse and her back was broken. She sent a pleading letter to Mother asking if I could come out and
help her as she was unable to do her housework. I was so excited! I begged to go. I didn’t realize
until later what a sacrifice it was for Mother to let me go. She had lost Catherine, Dad was in poor
health, and now I wanted to leave. Tiny, Jimmy and Gerry were all in St. Mary’s School. Paul had
married Frances Letwin and they had two babies, Peggy and Catherine (Peachie.) Paul became the
main support of the household.

When I left Ohio in June 1938, Dad had failed so much that he was hardly aware of my leaving.
I felt that Mother was very strong and would be fine. She wasn’t as strong and healthy as I thought.
She was also capable of putting up a good front.

~ 163~

Paul took me and my suitcase to the bus station. He went as far as Cleveland with me, then
turned me over to the bus driver. He said, “This is my kid sister. She’s going all the way to California
and I want you to take good care of her.” I sat right behind the driver and as each new driver took
over the former would tell him to “take good care of that little girl. She is going all the way to
California.”

I had ten dollars from Paul to spend on food. The trip took five days. I was so afraid of running
out of money that I only spent two dollars on food during the whole trip! Aunt Katie thought that I
looked very thin, but I blamed that on the mild case of yellow jaundice I had in May. I was sixteen
but looked about twelve.

The Collins were all good to me. The first thing Aunt Katie did was to take me to Santa Monica
for a permanent wave. Next, we were off to Hollywood to buy a bathing suit. My first weekend was
spent at Balboa where I received the worst sunburn of my life. I had covered all the Newport
Peninsula on a rented bike. My body turned as red as my bathing suit and I suffered for a week
after. For the rest of the summer it was to the beach every Sunday. We went to them all. I was a
happy, happy girl.

I wrote almost daily to Mother and Dad, my sisters and brothers and friends. I was full of praise
for California and my new life with Aunt Katie. Uncle always made sure that I had spending money.
Aunt Katie bought me clothes, sewed for me and let me cook and bake. My first pie was a raisin pie.
Tom was the first to cut into his piece and when he did, the crust was so tough that the pie bounced
off the plate. He tried to hide his smile and we all ate the pie, and everyone told me it was delicious.
I later learned how to make a tender crust and baked many good pies.

I started Hamilton High School in September 1938. Aunt Katie’s cousin, Mickey Glynn, from
Syracuse, New York, came with a friend to visit us at the same time. Aunt Katie and Uncle drove
them to San Francisco for a week. I took over the cooking and fixed dinner for Tom, Bill Dingledy
(Tom’s friend from Youngstown) and me. One morning Tom told me not to plan dinner, as he and
Bill would be taking me out. I was so nervous! I was sixteen years old and had never eaten dinner
in a restaurant! I picked up the menu and immediately scanned the prices. I ordered the cheapest
dish on the list. I think it was veal cutlet. Everything was so exciting. I felt as though I were playing
a part in a movie.

Our house was big, and Uncle had painted it throughout. I was given the den to sleep in--my first
private bedroom! One day the landlady came to visit. When she saw how beautiful the house look-
ed she said, “Everything is so elegant. I think I should raise your rent ten dollars.” Uncle refused to
pay, and we immediately moved into an even nicer house. My bedroom was on the sun porch and
I loved it. Aunt Katie put up pink drapes and covered the bed with a matching spread. I kept it
spotless.

I loved school. I loved helping Aunt Katie with the housework. I washed the clothes on Satur
day, ironed during the week and helped with the cleaning and cooking. The yard was beautiful, and
I took delight in mowing the lawn and keeping it neat. Our yard looked so pretty that the next-door
neighbor, Mrs. Torcia, asked me to do hers. She paid me fifty cents a week.

I went to my first dance in June of 1939 with Bob Johnson. I liked him. He was very well
mannered, good looking, and had a car. It was a carefree time for me. I had lots of fun, but Uncle
Matty insisted that I keep regular hours. Once I was out until 1:00 and he was pacing up and down
the sidewalk. Thank God, he went to sleep before I came in. Aunt Katie was understanding but told
me not to aggravate him.

~ 164~

Uncle saddened us all by going on drinking binges every so often. His prosperous contracting
business suffered at these times. His mind began to fail. Alcohol always takes its toll. Aunt Katie
was always good to me. She would go out of her way to see that I always had special dresses for
dances and dates. For my first prom, she dressed me in her handmade rose taffeta formal. It was
beautiful! She piled my hair high on my head. I felt so glamorous! All the boys called me Scarlett
O’Hara.

My father died in September 1939. For the last year of his life he was bed-ridden, couldn’t speak,
and knew only my mother. He was only sixty-one years old. Aunt Katie begged Mother to let me
stay in California and finish high school. I really grieved for my dad. I remembered him as a kind
and loving father. He was always gentle with his children. On the few occasions he raised his voice
to me, I was crushed. I loved him dearly, but I didn’t want to go back to Ohio. I wanted to keep my
beautiful life and I wanted desperately to graduate. To this day I have dreams that I am back at
Hamilton High working for my diploma. That is how deep my fear of not graduating was.

I couldn’t wait to get up in the morning to go to school. My grades were perfect. I missed only
one day in two years. I was active in the Girls’ Athletic Association, I was school newspaper reporter
and later a news editor and accepted into the most popular girls’ club.

Life was perfect. Then one afternoon I was called out of class. Mrs. Scarcliff, a family friend,
came to tell me that Tom had cancer and I was to go straight home. The bottom fell out of our lives.
Tom had been suffering from indigestion and finally went into Santa Monica Hospital for a check up.
He had a young, kind, wonderful doctor. Dr. Gorfane came to the house the morning after to explain
to Aunt Katie and Uncle Matty the extent of Tom’s illness. He suspected a tumor and wanted to do
exploratory surgery. The tumor was malignant and too advanced to remove. Tom wasn’t told
anything. Uncle collapsed and could think only of suicide. Although in great pain, Tom went back
to work. Aunt Katie aged ten years, but she was always cheerful around Tom. This all happened in
the Spring of 1940.

I graduated in June. Aunt Katie told me she just couldn’t attend any of the functions and I
understood. Her good friend Nettie Johnson persuaded her to go to the Senior Mothers’ Tea. And
I was surprised and happy to see her in the grandstand when I graduated.

Mother, not knowing the extent of Tom’s illness, began writing letters saying that it was time I
came back home to help her. Uncle insisted that I stay in California. I didn’t want to go back to Ohio,
but I knew that my mother would disown me if I didn’t.

One evening early in July, Aunt Katie, Tom and I drove to Torrance to visit Winola and Sam.
(Winola was my half sister, Dad’s daughter from his first marriage.) Aunt Katie was uneasy about
Uncle, so we left early and when we returned home, he was missing. We then drove to the police
station in Culver City (1) and Venice. She was afraid he would commit suicide.

We finally went to bed. When she was going to Mass early the next morning, she saw something
blue hanging from the neighbor’s tree. She knew what it was. She told me; then she called the
police. Tom awakened when he heard all the commotion outside. He asked what was wrong and I
didn’t have the heart to tell him. Fortunately, Aunt Katie came in at that time.

Uncle left a note in his back pocket saying: “Use my insurance money to take care of Tom” then
he hanged himself.

I finally had to give in and go back to Ohio. Paul had sent me the fare and Mother needed me.
Tom--always so quiet--and I embraced for the last time. Aunt Katie tearfully told me I always had a
home there if I ever decided to come back.

I had come to California with one suitcase and returned home with a steamer trunk packed with
all the things they had bought and given to me.

~ 165~

I was happy to see my mother and I loved her and my sisters and brothers. I loved Peggy and
Peachie who were four and three by the time I returned.

I immediately told Mother of Tom’s grave condition. She was sad as she had always loved Tom
dearly. Aunt Katie warned me to keep the news in the family and that the word cancer was never to
be put in a letter to her. Grandma (Edelblute Caler) was alive, but she didn’t know me. I couldn’t
stand the dirt and poverty and within a few days I told my mother that I could never stay in Ohio. My
main desire was to go back to California.

I found a job in August working for Charles White D.D.S. I dated a few of the local boys, but I
thought they were all stupid! One was too fast, one talked like an ex-con, and one burped in a
restaurant when he took me out to dinner. I soon started to refuse all comers. To me, they were all
a bunch of farmers.

One of Dr. White’s patients, Betty Wherley, kept asking me to join the young people’s club at St.
Mary’s Church. I kept refusing as I had no desire to join a club of any kind. Finally, after months of
refusing, I gave in and went to their Christmas party.

I wore a navy skirt, a white blouse and a red jacket. I didn’t know it at the time, but back in the
corner stood a young, blue eyed man and he had fallen in love. I danced with him several times and
he asked if he could take me home. I said, “No. I have to go home with the person who brought me.”
A few days later I received a Christmas card from him.

When Tiny and Gerry saw whom the card was from, they were so excited! Didn’t I realize that he
was the cutest boy in town and so popular! They had seen him act with the Joyce Kilmer Players
and were both in love with him. Bobby Baehr told his mother he had met the girl he was going to
marry. We had our first date January 4, 1941. I told him that I couldn’t marry anyone unless he
promised to take me back to California. He promised!

Bob left for the army in October 1942. Grandma died before Bob left. He was very helpful. He
patiently drove me to many stores until I found a lavender dress for Grandma to be buried in.

When Bob left we had plans to marry after the war. He was in camp a week or so when he
changed his mind. He didn’t like barracks living. He wanted a home and a wife.

Over the years I kept in close touch with Aunt Katie. Tom worked as long as he could and finally
had to stop. Dr. Gorfane wouldn’t tell Tom the truth as he had promised Aunt Katie he wouldn’t.
Finally, Tom went to another physician where he was told the truth. A parish priest, Father Collins,
visited Tom almost daily and they became fast friends. There were more trips to the hospital, months
of suffering. He finally died at home in about 1942. He was about twenty-nine years old. Aunt Katie
was crushed. She cried alone and kept up her cheerful image to outsiders. (2)

She kept sending me pretty gifts. Once she sent me a Kelly green fuzzy coat. There was no coat
in Warren to compare with it. Strangers would stop me on the street and ask where I had purchased
it. Another time she sent me a lime green jumper with an Hawaiian type blouse in yellow and green.

Bob and I wrote to one another every day and made plans for our wedding. Mother was very co
operative. She liked Bob and he in return liked and admired her. I continued to work for Dr. White.
Each week I went to Gillen’s Funeral Home to pay five dollars on my father’s funeral bill. I’m sure
the Gillen Family never expected to receive that hundred dollars, but we did pay it.

Our wedding date was set for June 7, 1943. In May Bob was sent to dental school for three
months to become a dental lab-technician. He did everything to keep from going, but in those days,
you did not argue with the Army. The Banns of Matrimony had been announced three times, but
there was no wedding. We half-heartedly set a date in August, then another for October 23, 1943.
If that date had not worked out, I think I would have caught the first bus for California.

~ 166~

Bob’s parents moved to California in September to be near their son George who was stationed
on the desert.

We had a small, lovely wedding at St. Mary’s, performed by Msgr. Edward Fasnacht. Tiny was
my bridesmaid, Bill O’Laughlin, best man and sweet Paul Kelly gave me away. Paul walked me
down the aisle, treated people to brunch at the Park Hotel, gave us his car and gasoline stamps for
our honeymoon. Our neighbor, Mrs. Chinnock, baked a lovely cake. The breakfast was delicious.
Agnes Davis gave us twenty-five dollars (a fortune). Anna (Baehr)and Lilla (Koehler) packed us a
box of food--all luxury items such as rationed bacon and butter. The food lasted us for several days
at Cook's Forest. Cook's Forest had been a sentimental favorite place of ours and perfect for a
honeymoon. It was closed for the Duration of the War. We were only accepted because someone
took pity on a romantic corporal. We had the last meal served in their huge dining roon and the only
open cabin. We stayed for one happy week.

When it came time for Bob to leave, I went as far as Cleveland with him. While we were waiting
for the bus to leave Warren, two M.P.'s approached us and asked Bob for his I.D. Asked me my
name and where we were going. Bob showed them his leave papers, also the picture and the
wedding announcement from the Tribune. They finally believed our story and confided that a
fourteen- year-old girl, fitting my description, had run away from home with a soldier! I was 21 years
old and looked 14!

It was a sorrowful parting in Cleveland and he vowed to find us a place to live as soon as possible.
I had quit my job--I had left Dr. White and had gone to work for the Ohio State Medical Department-
-and waited patiently for Bob to find us a home. I was finally able to move to Morganfield, Kentucky,
in November where we lived with Mrs. Ella Alvey. We had a bedroom and shared the kitchen and
bath with two other servicemen, their wives, and Aunt Ella! Later we found a deluxe apartment. We
had our bedroom, shared our kitchen with one couple and the bathroom with nine people! It was at
the Endsleys where I became pregnant with Anne. We were fortunate enough to get government
housing on the post, Camp Breckenridge, Kentucky, in the Spring of 1945.

I had worked for the Post Engineers during this time. I loved my job, made many friends and had
super bosses. Dorothy Greenstreet and I traveled by bus once a month to Evansville, Indiana, to
visit our physicians. Her baby arrived in August, Anne in November. We each were given a baby
basinett from our co-workers.

Our good friend Bill Ehrich had the only car in our group. He left the keys in his car at night and
when the babies were due, we just drove off in Bill's car. Annie gave us her first warnings late one
evening and we hurried to Evansville. We became proud parents of a beautiful baby girl on
November 11, 1945. Mother (Caler) arrived the day she was born and my sister Gerry (Challenger)
hurried down a week later to be her godmother. George (Baehr) was her godfather, but he was
unable to be there. Fortunately, the war was over--men were being discharged--but Bob was sent to
Fort Knox, Kentucky, to make false teeth for the German P.O.W.'s! He was finally discharged in
March 1946.

Anne and I had gone back to Warren, Ohio, Christmas night. Bob accompanied us on the train
as far as Cleveland. We always parted in Cleveland. I arrived home late at night in a taxi. It was
snowing hard as I climbed the steps and started banging on the front door. For a while I felt like
Mary from the poem, Mary From the Wild Moor.

The next three months passed quickly. Everyone loved Anne, and all were sad when we made
our final plans to leave for California. We asked Mother if she wanted to go along and she was so
excited. She had not seen her sister Katie (Aunt Katie Collins) in over ten years and each sister had
suffered many losses.

~ 167~

The trip was long and exhausting. It took us eight days. We had put all our savings into a 1941
Oldsmobile and a trailer. Each night we stopped to buy groceries. We cooked dinner, packed
lunches for the next day, washed diapers, bottles, baby, and ourselves. We made Anne's formula,
slept for a few hours and were back on the road early next morning.

We had a very small room with the Baehrs (Bob's parents) in Corona del Mar, California. We took
Mother to Culver City where she stayed for a month. Aunt Katie had changed greatly. Mother
unknowingly antagonized Katie in many ways. I never had the heart to tell Mother how much she
annoyed Aunt Katie. It was a personality clash. It was an older sister being too envious and too
bossy.

Aunt Katie was always good to us. She never was a baby lover, but she really seemed to love
baby Anne. She visited us every other week, always bringing large boxes of food. She invited us to
dinner often and had us on Christmas Eve and on Christmas Day.

Bob and I moved from the Baehr's house as soon as we could. We moved to Balboa in October
1946 and lived happily in a one room cabin with outdoor showers and toilets. When the Summer
rates raised our rent from $45 to $150 per month, we had to make a quick change.

Tiny and Al Dohar were married in May 1947 and were headed for California on their honey-
moon. They were more than happy to take Anne and me back to Warren, Ohio, with them. Bob and
I did not want this to happen, but we had no choice. There was no place for us to live because we
had a baby! Once again, I was on my mother's doorstep. Anne loved all the attention and was soon
calling my brother Paul, "Da, Da."

Bob frantically looked for a place for his family and finally in August found a tiny garage apartment
on Tenth Street in Santa Ana. Anne and I flew back to Los Angeles. We visited Aunt Katie in Culver
City, then headed home. As I look back, that place in Santa Ana really was the pits, but we were
happy just to be back together. Anne celebrated her second birthday there.

In the spring of 1948, Mother came to visit us. We were all cramped together in that place, but
we survived. She visited Aunt Katie for one week and couldn't understand why Katie was so cool. I
never did tell her how much Katie resented her. Mother wouldn't have understood.

Mother went back to Ohio in July and Aunt Katie was dead on the 25th of July! Bob had lost his
father on July 3 and now Aunt Katie was gone. We didn't know what turmoil Aunt Katie had
experienced. She had brought her new husband to visit us. We didn't like him. Her co- workers at
Douglas gave her beautiful gifts and she seemed so happy. Then one Saturday night she got into
her car, turned on the engine and quietly died. Her dearest friend, Margaret Bowler--later Wilson--
told us that Kitty and Jack were never married. She just couldn't face all her friends. Also, she never
stopped grieving for her son Tom and had spoken of suicide many times before to Margaret. Poor
Aunt Katie! I never knew how deeply troubled she was.

She left her estate to me. What a complete surprise! Her tragedy brought us happiness, as it
finally enabled us to have a home of our own--1724 Tustin Avenue, Costa Mesa.

We drove to Ohio in September 1949. Mother rode back to California with us. We were happy
to have a home for her to stay in. Peggy (Margaret Mary) was born on February 5, 1950 and Kathie
(Kathleen Marie) on October 9, 1953.

We took the train to Ohio in August 1954. Kathie was only ten months old. Anne and Peggy
loved the trip and were very good; but Baby Kathie gave her father a bit of trouble on the last night.

Mother made her last trip to California in 1956. She really loved our three little girls and they
loved her. I gave her all the dishes and cut glass she wanted. They had been her mother's (Mary
Glynn Maher) and she was quite pleased.

~ 168~

We went again to visit the family in 1962. Mother had known for years that she was diabetic, but
never properly cared for herself. On our last visit, she had a badly infected foot. She suffered greatly
and when we said our final good-byes, she hugged me tighter than usual and told me she would
never see me again.

Her foot got worse and worse. She knew she had gangrene and dreaded the future. She lost a
lot of weight and finally had to go to the hospital. Her leg was amputated on her birthday in 1964.
She died a month later and was buried on Peggy's birthday, February 5.

Of the three Maher girls, Mother had the fullest life. She had a loving husband, she raised five of
her six children, she lived to see eighteen grandchildren and three great-grandchildren. Her children
all loved her and were very good to her. She was 78 years old. She out lived all her sisters and
brothers, except one, Uncle Tom. She was buried at All Souls Cemetery. (3)

Endnotes: PartTwo: Chapter Four

1. Culver City in the 1920s attracted crowds from Los Angeles where Prohibition was strictly
enforced. People went to Culver City for gambling in the form of craps and dog races as well
as for bootlegged whiskey, live jazz, dancing. Most of the action took place in speakeasies
and night clubs along Washington Blvd.—Cotton Club, Plantation Club which featured
alcoholic beverages brewed in nearby private homes. Nightspots and prostitution led to
corrupt government until they were phased out in the 1930s. Los Angeles A to Z an
Encyclopedia of the City and County: Leonard Pitt and Dale Pitt; University of California
Press, 1997. Page 108.

2. Tom Collins’ tumor was actually the remnants of a twin that formed inside Tom’s body.

3. 3823 Hoagland Blackstub Road, Bazetta Township, Cortland, Ohio 44410. All Souls
Cemetery opened in 1959 and is owned by the Catholic Diocese of Youngstown, Ohio.

~ 169~

Part Three: My Husband’s Family

Chapter One

The Evans Family

According to Vallie Truelove Miller, the Evans family goes back to Amherst County, Virginia, with
the birth of Robert Evans in 1767. He was the son of William Evans (1) of Virginia. There is a William
Evans on the first U.S. Census in 1790 in Amherst County, Virginia. (2) He was the head of a
household containing six whites and one black. Unfortunately, other than the head of household,
family members’ names are not listed in early census records. The 1830 Census in Virginia finds
William Evans, Amherst County, with no slaves, no free coloreds, two white males, and three white
females in his household. This might be our William, but Vallie and Beulah’s story starts and stops
there in Virginia. They denied any claim to European origins.

“Europe? Why no! Our people and the Evans were always from here in Georgia or Virginia;
although, the Armours were from Ireland way back. My mother’s mother crossed the Atlantic Ocean
when a small girl. Came from Ireland. That’s why we are all so ill and cross.” Vallie Truelove
Miller, Georgia, 1978.

Actually, Vallie was not just expressing her opinion that the family was always from Georgia or
Virginia. A small colony of German Salzburgers went to Georgia in 1733, followed by some Highland
Scots; but other than these European immigrants, Georgia’s earliest settlers were from older British
colonies. (3)

I’ll probably not find a connection to the passengers arriving in Virginia (4) on April 26, 1607 on
the Susan Constant, the Godspeed, or the Discovery, nor to those who came on the Mayflower later
at Jamestown Island. Perhaps in another century, when records are more accessible, an historian
amongst my descendants might trace the family from the Virginia Company to London and then to
Wales and Ireland. Until then, my children will assume that the Evans line is probably documented
to the pre-Revolutionary War times in the Royal Colony of Virginia. The Evans were British subjects;
perhaps they were loyalists, perhaps not. The Armours were Irish, and also British subjects, but I
might assume they were not loyalists.

James J. Evans (son of
Robert Evans) was born
July 10, 1816, in Elbert
County, Georgia. He was a
farmer and Justice of the
Peace in Lumpkin County.
He died December 31,
1905, and was buried in
Gainsville, GA.

James Evans, his wife
Mary Ann Edge Evans, and
their daughter Martha
Evans are shown in the
photo to the left

~ 170~

The Evans saga from William in Virginia, to his son Robert, to the Georgia family of Ramón Evans
is documented in the Evans Family History, compiled by Cleo Evans in the 1970s. I obtained a copy
of the book in 1979 from Ramón’s mother Ann Gonzálbez Evans.

“Mormons came to White County, Georgia, in the 1960s. They were researching the Evans
surname. When I heard that the Mormans were living in a campground, I sent word for them to come
and stay in our house for all the time they needed. After all, they were working on Mother’s family.”
Betty Hunt Sheffield Hollingsworth, Georgia, September 20, 1998.

Ramón’s great-grandfather, Dr.
Wesley Emory Evans (pictured) was
the son of James Evans and Mary Ann
Edge. Wesley was born August 28,
1858, in Lumpkin County, Georgia.
He attended two years of college in
Dahlonega, Georgia, then went to
Augusta, Georgia, for medical school.
He became a physician and is in the
files of the American Medical
Association. He married Harriet
Abercrombie in 1880. Wesley and
Harriet had eleven children; three
were unnamed infants.

Pictured: David Evans, Dr. Wesley Evans, Daniel Evans, Eva Mae Evans, Harriet
Abercrombie Evans, DeWitt Evans, and Lucy Evans Spiva.

~ 171~

“Grandpa (Dr. Wesley Evans) was a country doctor and delivered all but one of his children. He
and his friends had some kind of a franchise with the Ma Bell Telephone Company. People from all
around could call him for medical service. In 19 & 8 he bought a car. He also bought an old wooden
house for thirty silver dollars. One day he came home with the silver dollars and just threw them
down. Said he could buy a house”. Pauline Hunt Barden, Georgia,1998

Dr Wesley Evans died on his birthday, August 28, 1926, of congestive heart disease and nephritis.
He also had dropsy and Bright’s Disease.

Dr. Wesley
Evans’ son, David
P. Evans, married
Beulah Truelove in
December 1916.
They had one child,
Ray Otis Evans.
Ray was born
September 1917.

Beulah and Ray on their farm circa 1919.

In the Daily Times, Gainsville, Georgia, Wednesday, 28 July 1965, there was an article about Dr.
Wesley Evans. Californian Recalls Old Days in Hills: by Hoyt McAfee.

Most people fondly regard a certain period in their lives as the good old days, but the small
crossroads community of Leo (5), Georgia, was the focal point of it all. There my granddad, Dr.
Wesley Evans, performed his many-sided tasks like a one-man whizz bang. These included his
number one love and specialty, country doctor; plus, depot agent, mail clerk, unofficial community
judge, peacemaker, adviser on farm problems, and king of the horseshow pitchers.

In those halcyon days (during the early, middle, and late 1920s), Leo was one of the main stations
along the railroad running between Gainsville and Helen. Granddad, as official depot agent at Leo,
met each train, slow freight or faster passenger, to perform his duties. After collecting the mail pouch,
he’d lock the depot, stroll across the tracks to the nearby main community store and deliver it to the
postmaster’s cubby-hole in the back end.

As the postmaster, he would quickly sort it and pass it out to those on hand to collect their mail
personally. Otherwise, Granddad would deliver it to the farmers, mountaineers, and country folks
he called on in his capacity as the village doctor.

~ 172~

Calls for his medical services would sometimes reach him in the middle of the nght, usually over
the old-fashioned ‘crank-it-with-your-hand’ telephone. I, his eager-to-learn young grandson,
frequently accompanied him on these rounds, at first by horseback, but later by T-Model and A-
Model Ford. He’d always respond to these calls, no matter how rough the weather was, no matter
how impoverished the sick family might be.

In fact, many sufferers paid him the medical fee for his services in corn, apples, peaches, or
vegetables. In numerous instances, however, Granddad effused any payment whatever, for the
reason that his sick patients were too hard up to meet their other pressing obligations.

As for the learning to drive a car, Granddad believed in the “sink-or-swim” technique…He took
me to a wide country road, one surrounded by an unplowed field. Then, he removed himself from
under the steering wheel and bade me: “You take over now. It’s all yours, with plenty of open space
at your disposal. Expect no help from me. Use your common sense, think about what to do, to learn,
to start, steer, speed it up, and stop it strictly on your own.” After slicing up that open field into a
crazy quilt patchwork, running into assorted bushes, and one pine sapling, I got the hang of it. Within
three days, Granddad felt at ease while riding with me in his “runaway” Ford.

Hoyt McAfee, 1965

Endnotes: Part Three: Chapter One

1. The Latter-Day Saints (LDS) Church Ancestral Files identify a William Evans, born about 1750, as
the son of Thomas Evans. William was married to Joyce. Thomas, born in about 1720, was married
to a woman with the maiden name of Gatewood, possibly Margaret Gatewood. Birth records for
Thomas would have to be in Henrico County, the only county in Virginia in 1720. I find Thomas
Evans and family in several land transactions conducted in Amherst County records offices. My
husband’s line probably began in 1705 with Charles Evans who married Sarah Mnu. Their son was
Thomas, who married Margaret/Elizabeth Gatewood. Their son was William Evans, who married
Joyce Pattison. Their son was Robert Evans, whose second wife was Mahala Granger. The LDS
records in The Robert Evans Family: Virginia and Georgia: Compiled by Cleo Harmon Evans, begin
with this Robert.

Deed Book C, pg 123. 5 Nov. 1770, William Gatewood and wife Ann, Amherst Co.to David
Bly A.C. for 25 pounds, 130 acres both sides Buffalo. Lines: Jas. Freeland, Stanhope Evans, Jno

Fry, John Harvey. Pat to Gatewood.

Deed Book F page 157. 4 June 1787, William Evans of Amherst County and wife Joyce to
Benjamin Cofland of Amherst County 166 acres Stovall’s Creek. Lines: By the path.

Deed Book F, page 327. 26 January 1789, William Evans and wife Joyce to Benjamin Miles for
150 pounds, 200 acres Rutledge. Lines: Moses Higginbotham, Jno Stewart.

Deed Book G, page 18, on 6 August 1791 Thos. Penn & wife Winney...to Saml. Migginson...for

200 pounds, 100 acres Buffalo River. Part of tract formerly that of Stanhope Evans * and

bought by Thos. Penn of Thomas Evans. ...Wit: Rich. Gatewood... Deed Book G, page 269. 16

September 1793. William Evans and wife Joyce Amherst County to Sackville King, Campbell

County for 10 pounds, 25 acres Porage Creek

~ 173~

Deed Book G, page 665. 29 August 1795 William Evans A.C. to George Dillard...Evans owed

Alex Brydie & Co. Deed of Trust to secure debts--529 acres where Evans lives. Headwaters of

Piney; winch Peggy. (Note: “wench” meant woman of color.) Thomas Evans died

September 5, 1774. His will is in the Virginia Will Records Book I, p. 264. Thomas

Evans...Witnesses Margaret Gatewood, Ann Gatewood, W. Gatewood Sr., son Bengman (Benj)

Darters Marey and Haneh, grandsone Thomas as long as he abides with daughters above. My

sons Charles, Thomas, William, Stanup (Stanhope), my darter Neley.

The Deeds of Amherst County, Virginia 1761-1807 & Albemarle County, Virginia 1748-1763: By:
Reverend Bailey Fulton Davis; Southern Historical Press, Easley, South Carolina, 1979.

I find a Private Stanhope Evans, as a volunteer under Colonel George Rogers Clarke in the Illinois
Regiment or the Western Army assembled in Virginia to attack the British outposts of Kaskaskias,
and St. Vincents in the “Illinois Country” of the West. According to the Act of 1779, Stanhope Evans
was entitled to two hundred acres of Virginia land. Many of the volunteers were discharged after the
service was rendered and did not serve the following three years. The L.D.S. files mention a
Stanhope Evans born between 1740 and 1760. The dates well fit the Stanhope who is the son of
Thomas Evans and the brother of William Evans. For my story, I can only wonder if the Revolutionary

War private is in our family line. All dates, places, and names coincide. Stanhope Evans received
his two hundred acres and is listed among the land-owners in Revolutionary War Records: Virginia,
by Gaius Marcus Brumbaugh. Stanhope was not wounded, for his name does not appear in
government pension records.

2. The reason Georgia researchers could not find William on earlier records is that Amherst County,
Virginia, did not exist before 1761. Amherst was formed from Albemarle County,1744, which in turn
was formed from Goochland County, 1720. Some of the Amherst information is in Nelson County.
December 25, 1807, Nelson County was cut from Amherst along the Piney River, leaving Amherst
records up to 1807 in Nelson.

3. Georgia Genealogical Society: Workshop Issue: Edited by James M. Edwards; Holland’s Print
Shop, Atlanta, Georgia; V 4, # 2, December 1967; page 749.

4. In early 2018, I found more support for my theories about the Evans ancestors: Geni On-Line and

Wikitree are leading me back towards early 1700 on the Evans name and even into 1690 with the
Gatewood connection. There is a Stanhope Evans, son of our Thomas Evans and Patty Elizabeth
or Margaret Gatewood. Stanhope was born in 1757, which would make him the correct age to have
fought in the Revolutionary War.

The names and dates fit in with the Amherst County, Virginia Deeds. Peggy (probably Patty
Margaret/ Elizabeth Unknown Gatewood) is listed as a winch (person of color) in an Amherst County
Deed, and she is also identified by Sean Morrissey (Wikitree: 2018: Evans) as a Monacan Indian.
The Monacan tribe was declared a federally recognized tribe in January 2018. The tribe is found
only in Amherst County, Virginia. The placement of “Unknown” indicates the individual could have
married a Gatewood before she married Thomas Evans, or she was adopted by a Gatewood family,
or there could have been two individuals: Peggy (maiden name unknown) and Margaret/Elizabeth
Gatewood.

There is a suggestion that Thomas Evans’ parents are Charles Evans (1705-1760) & Sarah Mnu
(1706-1750). One of Thomas and Margaret/Elizabeth Gatewood Evans’ children, Hannah Evans,

had an illegitimate son named Thomas Stanhope Evans, who is on the Monacan Indian Tribal

Roster.

Only future DNA test might prove Ramón’s Native American roots.

5.. Leo is no longer on the map, but it was where Dr. Wesley Evans lived with his family.

~ 174~

Chapter Two

A Brief Evans Family History from 1944 to 2017
By: Ramón (Ray) Evans
August 13, 2017

Grandfather Luis with Ramón I was born
Evans 1944 March 23, 1944,
in rural Bronx, the
northmost
borough of New
York City, NY.

My mother and
I lived with her
parents Luis and
Concepción
Gonzalbez, in the
house that my
grandfather built
in 1933 at 2559
Fenton Ave. -->

My father was Ray Otis Evans and my mother was “Ann.” As I write this autobiography
at 70 years of age, I finally learned from my wife Anne, the family genealogist, that my
mother's real name was Concepción Elena Carmen Gonzálbez Miranda de Evans.

In 1922, when my mother was 5 years old, she immigrated with her parents to New York
City from Spain via Cuba. She had a tough time in grade school as she spoke no English
and was given “tough love” by teachers to become American. This experience is the reason

for her name change to simply Ann, my name, Ramón, to Raymond, and my sister’s name,

Conchita, to Connie, as these are American names. My mother wrote Raymond D. Evans
on my Social Security application and Connie L. Evans on my sister’s application.

~ 175~

Parachute Class at Lakehurst NJ Dec. 5, 1941
2nd row from top center is Ray Evans.

Ann Gonzálbez

married Corporal Ray
Otis Evans February 7,

1942 in Lakehurst,
New Jersey.

Ann carried her first child, a boy, for about seven months. “I would go to the Marine Corps

clinic. The doctors were not attentive. I guess during the war they had more to worry about with the

wounded and didn’t care much about the women. Every month I went into the clinic for a check. The

other ladies were growing bigger and bigger, but I always stayed the same size. Then when seven

months had passed, I became worried and insisted the doctors check me more thoroughly. They found

out that my baby had died at three months. I was taken into surgery immediately and they removed

my baby. It was a boy-child. Next time I got pregnant, about mid-summer 1943, I wanted the best

care money could buy, so I went to a Jewish doctor. Ramón was born March 23, 1944 at Fitch

Sanatorium in the Bronx, New York. Ramón and I were in the hospital until April 2, 1944 and our

total bill was eighty-eight dollars.” Ann Gonzálbez Evans

~ 176~

A congratulatory letter was sent March
25, 1944 from J. Arthur Buchanan, M.D.,
510 Ocean Avenue, Brooklyn, New York
Dear Ann,
I am glad to know Ramón is here and that all
goes well with you. I think the name is
beautiful. When you get out again please let
me know and I will come by to see you both.
Be careful of yourself and if I can ever be
helpful to you, please let me know. Arthur
Buchanan

.
“Ramón was baptized on May 21, 1944 at the Church of the Holy Rosary. Arthur Buchanan and

my sister Mary were Ramón’s godparents. Ramón and I stayed with my parents for a couple of
months, then we went to California where my husband was stationed. In October, when Ramón was
only seven months old, I was pregnant again. I didn’t want my parents to know, so when I had pictures
taken to send to them, I’d put Ramón on my lap to cover my stomach.” Ann Gonzálbez Evans.
\

“Conchita Louise ‘Connie’ Evans was born
July 2, 1945, in Orange, California. This time it
was a Catholic Hospital, St. Joseph’s.” Ann
Gonzálbez Evans, Santa Ana, 1970.

~ 177~

My father, Ray, was in the Marine Corps and had been stationed at El Toro Air Station in
Orange County, California. Since housing was difficult for military families, my mother, Ann,
and I had to live in Silverado Canyon for a short while. Silver had been discovered in the
canyon in 1877. The boomtown of Silverado began with three stores and seven saloons.
We lived behind Silverado Store on Star Route. Ann’s mother-in-law (my grandmother)
Beulah Truelove Evans Spiva, moved in with the family while we lived in Silverado. Beulah,
not liking farm work, had worked in factories all her life, and had saved money.

When my sister Connie was born, we
needed more living space. Beulah
used her savings to co-purchase a
house with Ann. They bought 830
South Parton Street, Santa Ana, CA,
on November 27, 1944, from Albert A.
and Martha A. Farley for $6,750.

Meanwhile, and until 1945, Ray O. Evans would come back and forth from the Philippines.
He was a flight equipment officer. After World War Two, he was stationed in Japan. On April
27, 1945, he was in Okinawa. On November 23,1945, he was in Yokosuka. At that time,
Ann and Beulah were making plans to sell the Parton Street house. In 1946, they purchased
2130 Maple Street, Santa Ana, for $7,500.

Evans family- Ray, Ramón, Connie, Ann in 1945,

Finally, Ray returned home to California. After the war, we lived in Quonset huts in Camp
Pendleton, and at Marine Corps Air Station, Lighter Than Air (LTA), which is now Tustin, CA.
In 1947, we transferred to the east coast to North Carolina. Later that year, Ray was again
stationed overseas, this time in China.

Ray wanted the family to join him in China. Ann had to apply for United States
citizenship to obtain a US passport for travel to China. Meanwhile, she sold the Maple Street
house and she and her children and Beulah moved back to the west coast. Ann quickly
mailed for a copy of Ramón’s Baptismal Certificate as extra proof that he was born an
American citizen. We all ended up living in Tsingtao, China, in a house rented from a Russian
family, near the Marine Corps base.

~ 178~

Operation Beleaguer was a United States military operation in northeastern China's
Hopeh and Shantung Provinces during the time we were preparing to go to China. The
objectives of the operation were the repatriation of approximately 600,000 Japanese and
Koreans, who remained in China after the end of, World War Two and the safety of
American lives and property. For several years, American forces were in small battles with
the Communists. Peace treaties between Nationalists and Communists were unsuccessful,
but the US did assist with the repatriation and evacuation of thousands of the foreign
nationals. To protect US citizens and property, the 1st Marine Aircraft Wing moved its planes
and men to airfields in the Tsingtao, Tientsin, and Peking areas.

In May 1947, Ann’s citizenship
paperwork was completed, for a
Passport-Visa for the trip to China. Ann,
Connie Evans, Beulah Spiva and I left
San Francisco, California, for China
aboard the USS President Jackson
(pictured) on July 10, 1947. I was 3;
andConnie was 2.

Tsingtao China, now known as Qingdao and famous for its beer, was a German treaty
port from 1897 to 1914 in Shandong Province. It is in the northeastern part of China on the
eastern coast, north of Shanghai and southeast of Beijing. Japan occupied the city from
1914 to 1922 and again from 1938 to 1945. Tsingtao was under Chinese rule from 1922 to
1938. The US Navy Asiatic fleet used the city as a port during the 1930s.

After June 1947, the mission of protecting American lives and property in China was the
responsibility of the Marines in Tsingtao. FMF Westpac had an infantry battalion ready at all
times to be transported by air to Shanghai, Nanking, or Tientsin, where most U.S. nationals
were located. The Marines also were responsible for the security of U.S. naval training
activities at the Chinese Navy Training Center (CNTC) in Tsingtao, where Chinese Navy
personnel were being trained to operate LSTs that had been transferred to the Chinese
Navy. Tsingtao became the only Marine duty station in China on September 1, 1947, when
the last units of the 1st Marine Division left Tientsin. Some Marine units remained in Tsingtao
until about June 1, 1949. In early June 1949, the Peoples Liberation Army entered Tsingtao
and took control of the city.

~ 179~

We rented the top story of the above house from
Russians at Number 22 Chang Shan Road, Tsingtao,

China. I remember China. The Marines put on a big
Christmas program for the dependents’ kids and I had

my 4th birthday (March 23, 1948) there.

Beulah, Anne, Ramón, Ray, and My parents probably went to the Corporals club.

Connie Evans in Tsingtao China ~ 180~
1947

The winter of 1947 was very cold as the photo of Ramon and Connie show. Summers were
pleasant, and as we lived near the beach, we used to ride donkeys down to the water. When
we had picnics at the beach, what I did not understand at the time, was why the Chinese
people would eat our food that my parents always left on the nearby rocks, including egg
shells and orange peelings. Later we learned of the mass starvation of the Chinese people
in 1948 as the Communists were taking over.

Ann and Ray attended the New Year’s 1948 party at the Dependents’ Club in Tsingtao.
Parties started about 2100. Most clubs had dances and their walls cracked with gaiety. There was
also open house…At the Dependents’ Club and the Edgewater, the New Look was prevalent among
the ladies. The New Year came pretty swiftly, fresh with promises. The most sought were peace and
understanding among nations and the rebuilding of a better world. These are great ideals, but the
saying Charity begins at home applies to all of us to make 1948 a better year. The North China
Marine: V. I, # 25, January 10, 1948

Ann said that she had to attend many official parties with her husband in China. Ann did
not drink alcohol and delighted in telling the story about the time she inadvertently became
drunk at a Chinese and American function. “I guess they were giving me sake and I didn’t know
it was alcohol. I became very drunk and started giggling so bad that my husband had to pick me up
and carry me away from the dinner party.” Ann Gonzálbez Evans, Santa Ana, California.

“I remember Tsingtao was a beautiful city. I was there with the Marines before the war (World
War Two). It used to be the summer vacation city for the Chinese. There were many forts there built
by the Germans during World War One. I was called Ah-Bu. I guess it meant little boy. I am quite
surprised that Ramón’s father took the family to China with him. Not many of the Marines were able
to bring their families to Tsingtao after World War Two.” Darrell B. Albers, USMC Ret., March
2000, Yorba Linda, California.

When the United States Marine Corps had to leave China in 1948, the Evans family
prepared to depart. Ann bought many lovely Chinese items before she left China. “Vendors
were selling everything cheap. They just wanted to rid themselves of things and charged very little
money. The Communists were coming, and we had to evacuate.” Ann Gonzálbez Evans, 1975.

On July 13, 1948, Master Sergeant Ray O. Evans received communication from the
Commander of the United States Naval Forces in the Western Pacific. Provided that his
dependents complied with the Immigration and Naturalization Service, they were authorized
to leave Tsingtao via Naval Air Transport Service. Ray’s wife, son, and daughter were listed
in the letter, and Beulah was on the flight passenger manifest when the family returned to
the US. In Ancestry Passenger Manifests, there is an entry for Conchita, Chonchita (sic),
Ramón Evans, and Beulah Spiva arriving in Fairfield-Sui-Sun on 04 August 1948 aboard an
airship from USAAF Airlines, Washington, DC.

~ 181~

We came back to the US in 1948 where lived in Namar housing on the El Toro Base.

We bought a house at 1050 Camden Place in Santa Ana in 1949,
and a new Nash 600 Super car.

For the next ten years, my father was transferred back and forth between the El Toro
Marine Air Station near Santa Ana, California, and the Cherry Point Marine Air Wing near
Havelock, North Carolina. My father retired from the Marine Corps in 1959, and we moved
back to the home on Camden Place in Santa Ana. My sister and I attended Saint Anne's
grade school and Mater Dei High School in Santa Ana.

~ 182~

My father passed away in 1961. Connie and I remained with my mother until the mid
1960s. Connie left home for nursing school in New York, and then joined the Air Force as
a flight nurse. I was drafted into the Army in 1966 and was trained as a Military Policeman.
Surprisingly, my sister and I both ended up in Vietnam at different times. I have written about
my experiences in the US Army in a separate book, Two Years an Army MP.

I returned from Vietnam in 1968 and lived with my mother in Santa Ana. Within a couple
of months, I got a job at Union Oil Company of California (UNOCAL), and married the love
of my life, Anne Elizabeth Baehr, on the Winter Solstice, December 21, 1968.

Ramón and Anne Baehr Evans
with grandfather Luis Ramón

Gonzálbez Aparicio.

We initially lived in an apartment in Costa Mesa,
but when we were expecting our first child, we bought
a house at 1927 Parton Street, Santa Ana, a few
blocks from where my mother bought her first home
in 1945. Our daughter, Charlotte Anne, was born at
Hoag Hospital, Newport Beach, CA, April 17, 1970.
She was baptized in my christening gown.

We moved again in 1974 to 12121 Shasta Way
in Santa Ana to welcome our second daughter,
Lorraine Jeanette, who was born at Hoag Hospital,
Newport Beach, CA, April 4, 1975.

~ 183~

Our third daughter, Rachel
Katherine, was born at St. Joseph’s
Hospital, Orange, CA, August 20,
1977. In the photo is the family:
Rachel, Ramón, Lorraine, Anne,
and Charlotte leaving the hospital.
We moved again and purchased a
larger home in 1979 at 20111
Fernglen Drive, Yorba Linda, to
make room for Rachel.

My mother continued to live in her Santa Ana home on Camden Street and helped with
the children. Charlotte lived with my mother while attending Mater Dei High School nearby.
My mother remained in the Santa Ana home until she passed away in 1993. Anne's
parents, Robert and Mary Baehr, lived in Costa Mesa, CA, and generally had the children
on weekends. Mary passed away in 1981. Robert then moved into a condominium we
purchased and lived there until he passed away in 2006.

I was transferred to Fort Bend, Texas, by UNOCAL in 1995. We bought a house in
Richmond, Texas, and kept the home in Yorba Linda, as our daughters needed a place to
stay while attending college.

In 1999, I decided to retire from UNOCAL at the age of 54, so we returned to our home
in Yorba Linda where we live today. Our daughters Charlotte, Lorraine, and Rachel are
married, and we now have 5 grandchildren.

The following photos show two family reunions about ten years apart. Seven of the
relatives in the first photo are no longer with us, but we have one new family member in the
second photo, Maya Lorraine Belle Evans, who is the daughter of Lorraine and Pam Evans.
Unfortunately, I am now the senior member of the Baehr-Evans family at 74 years of age,
but I plan to attend many more family reunions.

~ 184~

Photo taken 2004, Lunney residence, Camarillo, CA. Front row: Linda Squire-O’Conner,
Lou Gonzálbez, Erica Carlson, Fiona Dobyns, Doug Carlson

2nd row: Mary Squire, Jesse Gonzálbez, Carmen Lunney, Steve Gonzálbez, Anne Evans
Upper Row: Wayne Squire Jr, Robert Baehr, John Lunney, Wayne Squire, Brian Dobyns,

Rachel Evans, Charlotte Dobyns, Aidan Dobyns, Lorraine Evans, Ramón Evans

This photo was taken in 2015 at the Salmas “Beergola” cabin in Crestline, CA.
(front, floor) Ray Evans

(second row L>R) Aidan Dobyns, Brian Dobyns, Fiona Dobyns
(third row L>R) Lorraine Evans, Maya Evans, Pamela Evans, Alex Salmas, Mike Spitz
(back row L>R) George Salmas, Kathleen Salmas, Anne Evans, Charlotte Dobyns, Rachel Spitz
.

~ 185~

Chapter Three

The Truelove Family

Lee Truelove of Cuba, Alabama, told me that family stories go back as far as William the
Conqueror. A warrior with the name Truelove had saved the life of the son of William the Conqueror
by breathing the air of life into William’s son. In gratitude William renamed the Truelove warrior with
the name Eire. Over time, and when the Eire family finally immigrated to America, the spelling was
changed to Ayre. In the 1700s, the Ayre brothers were ship builders in Philadelphia. They christened
their first ship the Truelove in remembrance of their original surname. The Truelove was in service
for one hundred years as a whaler and as a rescue mission ship. Lee Truelove, November 3, 1998.

Other early mention of the surname Truelove was in a Virginia land company’s property deeds.
The King of England had given land in Virginia to investors who went to southern Virginia to establish
the Truelove Society Plantation. Lee Truelove, Georgia, 1998.

During the American Revolution (1776-1783), German mercenaries came to America to fight for
the British. In the Infantry Regiment of His Serene Highness the Hereditary Prince of Hesse, in
Captain Wilhelm von Gall’s Company, there was a soldier by the name of Guillaume Treulieb. While
the troops in this company carried their German surnames, they translated first names to either
English or French. After the war, many of the Royalists settled in Canada. Some individuals, who
stayed in the United States, translated their surnames to English, in order to appear more American
and to fit in with the new nation. Guillaume Treulieb could have become William Truelove.

The German connection to the Truelove family of Georgia is simply a theory. The various spellings
of Truelove, Trulove, Truluv, etc. are also found in England and Ireland, as well as in Germany and
the Germanic countries of Europe.

According to Barbara Whitfield Judd, the Trueloves were Irish. Peter Davidson Whitfield married
Frances Truelove, the daughter of William Truelove. In Barbara’s The Life and Times of Ernest and
Eva May (Evans) Whitfield, Barbara Judd tells us that Willam was two when he came to America
from Ireland. William’s brother died aboard ship and was buried at sea. The Trueloves were traveling
with the Spain Family and during the voyage, the men switched wives and possibly children. Family
rumors spread that William believed he was a Truelove and subsequently took the name Truelove.

The storytellers on the Truelove and Evans’ side were my husband’s grandmother, Beulah
Truelove Evans Spiva, and her sister, Letcher Vallie Truelove Miller. Grandmother Beulah and Aunt
Vallie certainly loved to talk and their favorite subject was family. I was a very willing listener and an
eager note taker on most of my visits to Georgia. Neither Beulah nor Vallie ever seemed to refer to
written documents; on the contrary, they carried names, dates, and birth and burial places in
memory. I have verified their information on census records and have found few, if any, errors. I
would mistrust census transcriptions more than I would question the memories of Beulah and Vallie.

Vallie began her story of the Truelove family with her grandfather, William Truelove, and his son,
(her father) Jasper Newton Truelove. William married Hepsey Barton June 15, 1848. Hepsey and
her child died in childbirth about 1861. Vallie told me “William, was a drunkard. He was gray at
twenty.” William married his second wife, Mary Staten, on August 12, 1862. Their first child, Jasper
Truelove, Ramón’s great-grandfather, was born August 12, 1863, in Hall County, Georgia. That was
the same year that my great-grandfather, Sgt. John Baehr, was wounded at the Civil War Battle of
Missionary Ridge, some one hundred miles north on the Tennessee-Georgia border. When Jasper
Newton Truelove was three months old, Sherman’s troops were crossing the southern states.

~ 186~

William Truelove joined the Confederate Army. He made first corporal on September 15, 1863.
He belonged to Company H of the 66th Georgia Volunteer Infantry, originally Captain Belisle’s
Company. He was captured at Kingston, Bartow County, Georgia, May 19, 1864, interrogated, and
sent to Rock Island Prison, Illinois. There, the Union prison commanders gave him the choice of
remaining in prison or enlisting in the Federal Army to fight the Indian Wars in the West. The
prisoners were made to swear on oath promising not to re-engage in battle against the United States
of America. William Truelove signed up as a private and was placed in Company “I,” the 2nd
Regiment of the United States Volunteers. “He was sick the day his regiment marched west. Next
day they were all gone. When his company mustered out, he went back to Georgia. We call soldiers
like William Truelove ‘Galvanized Yankees’ cuz they had gray uniforms in the Confederacy before
they put on the blue uniforms of the north.” Johnny “Buck” Truelove, Georgia, 1998.

After Jasper was born, William Truelove and his second wife, Mary Staten, had two more
children, Malinda (1866) and John Christopher Truelove on April 18, 1868. “His second wife (Mary
Staten) died in childbirth with Christopher, and grandpa remarried immediately. The stepmother,
Sarah Arminda Payne, called “Min” was wonderful. She never had a gray hair at seventy-five.” Vallie
Truelove Miller, Georgia, 1998.

William and his third wife Sarah had eight more children. In 1868, William’s son, Jasper Newton
Truelove, was five years old. Jasper’s future wife, Margaret Armour, was born that year.

On June 15, 1868, Margaret Gilmore Nevada Armour was born in Hall County, Georgia. My
source for most of the Georgia oral history, Vallie Truelove Miller, told me that Margaret Nevada
Armour was a Gilmore. I found Margaret on the 1900 Census in Hall County with a five-year age
discrepancy. I note that many times five years were taken off when asked an age by an enumerator.
Do I speculate that the reason was vanity, just honest forgetfulness, or an approximation made by a
family member? Whatever the reason, the researcher’s job can be challenging.

Jasper Newton Truelove married Margaret Armour on January 13, 1889. Jasper was about 24
years old and Margaret was 19 when their first child, Franklin Christopher Truelove, was born
December 27, 1887. (Franklin’s son was Johnny Truelove.) Next came Lily Mae born in 1891 and
then Ramón’s grandmother, Beulah Ann, in 1893. As I write this history, these three names seem
fairly common. Then when their third child arrived, Jasper and Margaret became creative with
names: Letcher Vallie, Elvie Culsetti, Winnie Jo, Hassie, Eunice Armendi, and William Hoyt
Truelove. Letcher seems to be the strangest name to me, but I have discovered a Virginia governor
by the name of John Letcher. Perhaps the family named Vallie in his honor. Although Vallie’s
names, dates, and places seem correct for family members, her own birth date was three years off.
The 1900 Census finds a 2-year-old Letcher Vallie in the Truelove household, but Vallie believed
that she was born in 1901. She wrote me the following letter.

I still don’t have much information for you about the Truelove family; for Eunice has the family
Bible and she has been on sick list since Xmas; said she would have to get David Evans’ birth from
his monument and I don’t get to see much of her now for you know I am too dumb to drive. My
husband, Frank (Miller), was borned August 11, 1895. I was borned March 13, how unlucky, 1901.
Both of us were born in Hall County, Georgia. I graduated from Chattahooche High School, attended
North Georgia College one year, Georgia University one year, and taught school 22 years.

~ 187~

Dad (Jasper Newton Truelove) had
the most friends of anybody, but his father
(William) was a drunkard. Dad died at age 67.
He drank five eggnogs with whiskey a day.
Dad weighed only 130 pounds. He was
skinny and maybe had kidney stones. He
died in 1930. Mom was short and fat and had
dropsy. She was borned in Hall County. Her
mom was from Ireland--Armour. Grandma
Armour was a Gilmore. Dad’s mother was a
Staten.

Vallie Truelove Miller, Georgia.

Jasper Newton and
Margaret Armour Truelove

Photo of Jasper and Margaret Truelove’s
children taken in Georgia about 1918.

L-R: Letcher Vallie, Hassie, Winnie Jo,
Eunice Armendi, William Hoyt and Elvie
Culsetti. Not pictured: Beulah Ann, Lily
Mae, and Franklin Christopher.

Dad took fodder to town and sold it all for $4.00. He saved all his money at our house. He would

spread out a blanket on the floor and count out fifty dollars a year to pay for the farm. He bought

eighty acres for $300 in the 1890s. Vallie Truelove Miller.

The 1900 Census indicates that neither Jasper nor Margaret could read or write English and that
neither had any schooling. Jasper and Margaret lived in the Polksville District of Hall County. He
was a farmer and she kept house. The couple lost two of their babies and raised nine children.

~ 188~

I am certain that life was difficult on the farm with nine children; perhaps so hard that none of the
Truelove off-spring wanted to continue the tradition of a large family. All the Trueloves married and
lived long lives together on their farms, but most were childless, decessit sine prole. Frank had
children, and of course, Beulah had one son, Ray Otis Evans (Ramón’s father) but not one of the
other sisters had children. Eunice and her husband, Loy Dorsey, adopted a four-day old baby,
Kenneth; but, with few exceptions, the Truelove blood appears to have run dry. Then perhaps it
might have been a simple matter of economics or just not having time to get around to having babies.

Besides, children seemed to be a great deal of trouble. “Kenneth has a problem on his hands,
(his son) Jake’s hearing is impaired from that meningitis, he has two hearing aides, he’s learning to
talk, but (his mother) Sandra has to carry him to a doctor in Atlanta once a week and will have to do
this until he is 6 years old or maybe older...Do hope nothing else happens. Of course, she had to
give up her job, but this is hard on her.” Vallie Truelove Miller.

Johnny Truelove told me that Eunice and Loy Dorsey tried to adopt another child, a 14-year old;
but the boy did not care to stay with the family and walked off after being at the home for a couple of
days.

There was seldom time to do anything except rise before dawn, attend to the farm, and go to

bed sometime after midnight. Beulah wrote to us in 1971 with the same news as always. Well Frank

and Vallie has plenty to do have 35 or 40 hundred hens laying keep them both buisy. Vallie got home

form the curb market about 8.30 last night had to fix supper and grade 32 hundred eggs you can

guess what time they get to bed. Beulah Truelove Evans Spiva.

In May of that year, 1971, Beulah’s monthly letter to us was filled, as usual, with the main topics
of interest, which were health and the farm. Yes, Frank and Vallie keeps busy one of Vallie legs look
like it would burst by night the Dr told her should stay in bed a week and stay off her feet all she
could she not stop except she stays in bed 30 or 40 min ever day she bakes 8 or 10 cakes to carry
to the curb market on Saturday she had a lot of pretty flowers she don’t have to do all those thangs
they draw about $300 ever month their hens have paid well. They makes from $20 to $25 a day but
grades most of the eggs at night some time it 12 or 1 o’clock at night when they go to the house to

eat.

Hope all are fine and enjoying warm weather I sitting here in the mud. Can’t get any one to do

any thang. Did not have a white Xmas but had a white New Years came in nice and sunny melted

all the snow & ice so far my watter has not froze just got my trailer block up still a lot of work to do in

front. Beulah Truelove Evans Spiva.

Vallie Truelove Miller died in 1984 and left her $171,540.24 estate to be divided amongst her
close family members. Eunice received one third of the estate; Ramón, half of a third, or $26,000;

Connie Evans, Bonnie Mae Truelove Nix, and Johnny Truelove each also received half of a third.

~ 189~

Denver Vernon Truelove
A war hero in the Truelove family was Denver Vernon Truelove, 2nd cousin once removed of
Ramón Evans. Denver was in the Doolittle Raid over Japan in World War Two and is mentioned in
the book Thirty Seconds over Tokyo. In 1980, his sister, Blanche Truelove Bowen, wrote a letter to
Debbie Truelove, daughter of Johnny Truelove and Willie Mae Adams. Below is the military history
part of the letter.
Dear Debbie:
I am the sister of Denver Vernon Truelove, who was born April 10, 1919 and died April 5, 1943. Our
parents were Clyde W. Truelove and Gertrude Rogers Truelove. Denver attended school at
Clermont, Brookton, Cornelia, and Lula, (Gerogia). He graduated from high school at Clermont in
1937. We lived on farms most of our growing up years. Denver graduated from the Rabun Gap-
Nacooches Junior College in 1939. Denver was a junior at the University of Georgia when he
volunteered to join the US Army Air Corps in the spring of 1940. After the required training, he was
commissioned as seond lieutenant in the USAC. He trained to be a pilot. When he didn’t make pilot,
he trained to be a bombardier. He was performing this duty when the plane he was in was shot
down over the coast of Sicily. The concussion was so great when the flak hit the plane that he was
knocked unconscious and could not swim or catch debris as some of the other crew members were
able to do. There is a marker for him in Level Grove Church Cemetery, Cornelia, Georgia, at the
graves of our parents.

Lt. Eugene McGurley, Capt. David Jones, Lt. Denver Truelove, Lt. Rodney Wilder, Sgt Joseph Mansle 1942

Denver was the bombardier in the 7th plane which was piloted by Dave Jones when Jimmy
Doolittle’s Group raided Tokyo, April 18, 1942. Dave Jones represents our US Air Force in the
cabinet of President Jimmy Carter today. Denver was First Lieutenant at that time, but soon became
captain after that famous raid. When their plane ran out of fuel, Denver bailed out and landed with
his parachute on a mountain in China with only a scratch on his little finger. He soon found another
of his plane’s crew. He had volunteered for this hazardous, but unknown mission.

~ 190~

All of the surviving raiders were protected by the Chinese. Madame Chiang Kai-shek, the then ruler
of China’s wife, held a banquet for the Doolittle Raiders. Denver along with the others was awarded
a medal by the Chinese government. I think they were in China about two weeks. They returned
home by way of Calcutta, India, and made at least one stop in Africa, where he purchased ivory
jewelry for us. He had been around the world when he returned home about the first of July and a
parade was held in his honor at Fort McPherson in Atlanta on the 4th of July, where he was the
speaker. He had been to Washington, D.C. where (the crew) received honors from the president
before he came to Georgia.
Denver was engaged to a girl he met at Rabun Gap-Nacoochee School. Her parents didn’t approve
of her marriage beause he was preparing for war. The engagement was broken.
In addition to the Chinese medal, Denver was awarded the Air Medal with the Oak Leaf Cluster, The
Flying Cross, and the Purple Heart. His commanding officer wrote our mother after Denver’s death
that Denver was the “coolest man under fire that he had ever seen.”
Good luck to you finding your ancestors.
Sincerely yours.
Blanche Truelove Bowen
***************************************************************************************************************

After the Tokyo Raid, Denver returned to service for the Army Air Corps as a bombardier. In
December 1942, he was stationed in North Africa, 428th Bombardment Squadron, 310th
Bombardment Group. His plane was shot down at Trapani, off the west coast of the Island of Sicily.
He was reported Missing in Action on April 5, 1943.

The on-line site Fold3 has the following information: World War Two Honor List of Dead and
Missing Army and Army Air Forces Personnel Casualty List. Georgia, Page 23. Captain Denver V.
Truelove Serial Number 0-427637.

~ 191~

Chapter Four

BEULAH TRUELOVE EVANS SPIVA

Beulah was born on August 29, 1893.
She was 23 years old when she married
David P. Evans, 27 years old, son of a
country doctor, Wesley Evans. The photo at
right of Beulah was taken in 1945.

She and David were married in a civil
ceremony on December 21, 1916 and in a
church ceremony on December 24. Their
child, Ray O. Evans, was born on September
27, 1917. David died two months later at the
age of 28. Beulah told us “I woke up one
morning and he was dead. Heart attack.”

The only mystery here is an Affidavit that I
have with David’s birth and death dates. His
death date given on the Affidavit is December
26, 1916. If the date on the Affidavit can be
trusted, then David died two days after his
church wedding. On the other hand, the
headstone at David’s grave is carved with the
date November 16, 1917.

David P. Evans

“I remember when Uncle David (Evans) died. He was pulling corn all day on the day he died. It

was getting cold and he went in the house and sat down. He just sat down and died. Aunt Beulah

went running to the neighbor’s up the road for help, but nothing could be done. I remember them

rolling the casket out. There were no hearses in those days, and they just rolled the casket onto a

truck bed and went off with him. I just remember he died and there was nothing said about a fight

or anything. Now his brother Dan was the wild one and was always into a scrape. Dan contracted

syphilis and went to his father for treatment. Dr. (Wesley) Evans treated him with arsenic. Arsenic

was the cure for syphilis in those days.” Pauline Hunt Borden, Georgia, September 1998.

~ 192~

Beulah remarried when her son Ray was 5
years old. She married Jim Spiva, or Spivey,
November 26,1922. “Jim was a Spiva or a
Spivey, but it don’t matter which way you say
it.” Beulah Evans Spiva.

Jim had a son, Jesse, from a previous
marriage. Here is a picture of Ray and Jesse
as young boys. They are dressed in suits but
are barefooted

“They say that Jesse is a fine man and he
was good to Beulah.” Vallie Truelove Miller

Ray Evans, Jesse Spiva, Pauline Hunt, and
her sisters and brothers all went to Friendship
Community School.

Ray Otis Evans, on left, and stepbrother
Jesse Spiva 1923

“We all had to work hard on the family farm; but cousin Ray never had to do any work. Grandpa
Evans give him anything he needed. He would always have cookies and would come and taunt us
while we worked. He’d just stand there eating cookies watching us and laughing. One day he come
by with a bucket of cookies and irritated us until we rushed on him, beat him up, and took all his
cookies. He didn’t bother us after that. No, we had to work the farm, and had no time for play.

“Ray and Jesse fought like two benny roosters. Then I don’t recall what Jim Spiva done, but
there was trouble and he bolted. Aunt Beulah never liked farm work and wanted to go away and
leave Ray with her in-laws, Wesley and Harriet. I heard Grandpa (Dr. Wesley) Evans say, ‘Oh,
Beulah, don’t do that.’ Beulah had made up her mind and stated her case. Grandpa said, ‘Beulah,
you shut your mouth!’ And then she left for Manchester. Beulah was the kind that would ask no
questions and didn’t tell nothing. Jim Spiva was not seen again until he went to visit Beulah in the
hospital before she died.”

Pauline Hunt Borden, Georgia, 1998.
Beulah was living on Main Street in Manchester, Georgia, between 1938 and 1944.

~ 193~

Beulah’s son Ray joined the US Marine
Corps in 1938 and became one of the first

of the family to leave Georgia. Ray O.

Evans was a fine Marine with an

impeccable military record. The following
article from a USMC publication

summarizes Ray’s military career.

Captain Ray O. Evans, an ex-parachutist and paramarine instructor during World War Two,

retired last Sunday after twenty-one years of Marine Corps service. Captain Evans entered the

Marine Corps as a private April 5, 1938. After boot training at Parris Island, Evans was elected to

attend Sea School at the Portsmouth, Virginia, Navy Yard. Although relatively happy with his tour of

sea duty, Captain Evans still had a yen for aviation. He requested parachute school, and after

placing high in his class, remained there for three years as an instructor. During World War Two,

Captain Evans participated in the Marshall Islands and Okinawa campaigns. When the war ended,

he served a tour of occupation duty in Japan. After only six months in the U.S., he was transferred

overseas in 1946 where he served with VMR-153 in Tsingtao, China. Later while stationed at El

Toro, he was commissioned a second lieutenant and transferred to Cherry Point, North Carolina, for

duty. In 1954, Captain Evans was transferred to Japan where he served for 14 months. While

serving there in 1956, he received his appointment to captain. From: Windsock:

Published by MCAS, Cherry Point, NC, February 6, 1959.

Ray married Concepción Ann Gonzálbez in New Jersey on February 7, 1942. In 1944, he was
sent to California before shipping to the Pacific during World War Two. His son Ramón was born in
New York, March 23, 1944. Ray’s mother, Beulah, moved with the family to California and bought a
house with her daughter-in-law, Ann. Behlah stayed and helped to raise the grandchildren. Conchita
Connie Louise was born July 2, 1945. After the war, the family lived one year, 1947, in Tsintao,
China, made several trips across the United States as Marine Corps dependents, and settled in
Santa Ana, California. Beulah and her daughter-in-law were never close friends. They respected

each other but were opposed on nearly every subject. When Beulah’s son Ray died in 1960, she
moved back to Georgia and lived with her sister, Eunice Truelove Dorsey, and Eunice’s husband,
Loy Dorsey. Beulah was forced from the Dorsey house when Loy demanded that his sister-in-law
turn over all her assets to him. “Loy was quite a conniver. He wanted everything of Grandma’s put
in his name. As all the sisters died off, Loy ended up with everything and even the family farm.”

Ramón Evans, 1996.

After living with Eunice, Beulah moved into a trailer on the farm of her sister and brother-in-law,
Vallie Truelove and Frank Miller. When Beulah returned to Georgia, she and her daughter-in-law,
Ann Gonzálbez Evans and her grandchildren kept in touch by mail.

Dear Mom: Sure was nice to hear from you. Sorry to hear that you had such a bad winter. Glad that

you are with Vallie. Couldn’t you have stayed with Loy and Eunice? It would have been nearer. Then

you could have looked after your little trailer. Sorry that you’ve been feeling badly. What is the cause

for your trembling? Did the doctor say? Didn’t realize medicine was so expensive. I sure hope we

stay well. Connie had the flu now several times. I believe working at the hospital has lowered her

resistance...Both Connie and Ray will work on Easter. I will go to my folks later in the afternoon for

dinner. Sunday we’re celebrating Ray’s birthday. I just can’t believe that he is 20 already. He hasn’t

changed much. He does talk more, still as forgetful as ever and still takes hours to eat. He sure

eats though. He is making up for all those years he wouldn’t eat. Ann

Gonzálbez-Evans, March 19, 1964.

~ 194~

Beulah kept occupied in the 1960s in the farm gardens, awaiting news and visits from her two
grandchildren, and lamenting that her daughter-in-law was too busy to write. She wrote the following
letter to Ramón when he was in the Army.

Dear Ramón so glad to hear from you it seam so long since I heard did you get my cake last month I did
not send one this month as I did not hear from you was hoping you were on your way home nothing new
has hapen here except the weather for over a week we had hot weather 90 to a 100 for the past week it
been down 2 to 14 below normal had to turn on the heat it just pleasant to day am glad you talk to your
mother and Connie and Anne I can’t hear to talk over the phone but when you get to the states I want you
to call and let me know call colect I pay for the call I want to see you so much am sorry you could not come
while Connie was home let me know if you are coming out to see me and don’t stop writting when you get
home had a nice Birth day card from your mother said she did not have time to write guess Connie is on her
way back to N.Y. not feeling good don’t know how long she be there Kenith is back in school guess Loy
keeping them up he here ever day don’t know any thang new you did not tell me when you and Anne are
planning to get married write soon Love Grand Mother. Beulah Truelove Evans Spiva, about 1967.

Besides the farm, weather, and aches and pains, the family gossip never stopped. I loved
Beulah’s and Vallie’s stories about other relatives who worked and saved all their lives, so they could
be “laid out” decently at their funerals. A fine coffin and a large monument meant that a person had
been wealthy. Proper deaths were important to the family. Vallie wrote to us when her husband died.
Frank hasn’t been well all Winter. Last week his appetite left him, and he passed away Wednesday
with a heart attack. He really died easy--didn’t even grunt the first time. Vallie Truelove Miller.

Beulah was deaf in her later years, but she seemed to “hear” all the latest. “Kenneth is working
ever day the protol pick him up for speeding cost him $50 and his liscnes but…got them to give his
lisens back so he could get to his work …they don’t know I know any thang about it.”

Beulah never complained about Frank and Vallie. They allowed her to live on their land and she
helped them when she could. In a letter, she updated us: I go to Vallie help her with her cakes.
Frank brings beans down so I sit and strang beans.

Beulah kept track of her visitors as well as those who wrote or didn’t write to her. Jo and Guss
came over last night (March 12, 1970). They come ever week to see me. Eunice came 3 time in 3
month she dreaded to see me come back. In January 1971, Beulah wrote, No one came Xmas
exepp Jo and Guss and Elvie. She been worse ever since she smoke herself to death one cegrett
after an other.

Poor Connie made many trips to Georgia to see the family, but she could never do enough! Beulah
complained in a letter, No word from Connie she don’t care enough to write I should not care but I
can’t help...I wonder if she is home sick.

Beulah loved our letters and the pictures we sent to her. She would be angry when her letters
sent in care of Eunice would be opened and read. I received your letter and picture you sent to
Cleveland (Georgia). Eunice did not brake (open it.) It was a surprise.

Beulah was a worrier. She worried when Kenneth and Ramón were in Vietnam, which is
understandable; but she also worried about little things.

What Ramón ida (idea) going to the mountains I read so many are helt up where they (are)
camping. Sometimes her worst nightmares did come true.

Someone got in Franks bean patch no telling how many bushel they pick fore the vines all so
pickd. They had to cross his paster fence he had hog wire at the bodem and bob wire at the top.
They cut the top wire and the bodem wire so they could cross the hog wire--cost $35 a roll had to
hire some one to help put it up all so bought $15 of spray to keep the bug off beans he could have
sold the beans at $4 or $5 a bushel have to keep ever thang lock up.

~ 195~