Ashland, Nebraska - James Boling's last home

The sign on the main road into Ashland assured us we had followed the map correctly

In May, 2011, Don and I went with his mother on a family history trip, visiting some of the places where her ancestors had been born and/or lived.  Our first stop was Ashland, Nebraska the community where Leona's maternal grandfather, James Leonard Boling had lived at the time of his death.

There is something about visiting the places where family members actually spent time and worked and raised children and farmed and laughed and cried and lived and died that strikes a chord in me as I try to imagine their lives.  Ashland was a great starting point for my first family history trip, because it was everything I imagined an ancestral town should be: small, quaint, picturesque, and home to a charming public library. 

I loved the stone arches on the bank building, now being used as offices.

The National Bank building

I'm sure this home was in Ashland when James lived there between 1936 - 1942, and probably for many years prior to that.  It was an interesting contrast between old and new with the air conditioner sitting next to the stone foundation.

Old meeting new sometimes creates junk

Note the stone foundation

Hopefully Oscar Hoffman sold a lot of dry goods, shoes, groceries and feed at one time.  Unfortunately, this building now stands vacant.

The dry goods store had a prime location on the main street

The cemetery was at the edge of town.  As Leona had been there once before, we were confident that we would find Grandpa Boling's grave.  The volunteer was so willing to help us, and she was delighted to show us the recently completed display area which allowed us to easily locate the grave. The pictures of his grave can be found here.

The cemetery rules were posted prominently at the gate

She quickly located the Boling name in the list

James Leonard is not the only Boling buried in this cemetery

Our last stop in Ashland was the public library.  Not only did it look like the set of an old movie, the smell that greeted us as we stepped inside was perfect!  Books (old and new), wax on hardwood floors and a little bit of mustiness blended to create the quintessential library atmosphere in the small and crowded rooms of the outdated building.  A huge sign on the lawn proudly announced construction on a new library - thanks to a bond that had passed. Is it wrong of me to feel a little sad about that progress?

The view from the street looked like a postcard

Note the re-purposed mailbox that serves as a book return

The microfilm area in the library was accessed only by way of a very dark and narrow stairway leading to the basement. We cautiously made our way down the steep steps (wondering all the while if our librarian guide would be able to navigate them successfully) and then squeezed into the tiny room where we found the microfilmed newspaper reports of James Boling's death.  Success!

Are blue Rubbermaid bins archival storage?

My first experience with microfilm

Whenever you go on a trip to visit foreign lands or distant places, remember that they are all someone's home and backyard.  -Vera Nazarian

The Sad Story of Aunt Jennie's Death

Ida Jane "Jennie" Kimball was second daughter of William and Sarah Kimball, and the sister of Martha Amanda Kimball Wisemiller, who was Louis Butler's great-grandmother.  She was known to the Butler family as Aunt Jennie, and as evidenced as some family pictures I have, enjoyed a close relationship with her nieces and nephews including Jesse Butler, Lou's father.

This past week with the help of one of Lou's cousins I've not yet met, I've discovered a very interesting, yet very sad story about Aunt Jennie's death.  Family stories told of Jennie's last husband poisoning her, but until this week we had no proof of that happening.  But now we know the rest of the story.

Aunt Jennie Kimball Matheson  with Butler nieces
Susie Belle - Beulah Alice - Ida Amanda
circa 1913

 

Does this look like an authentic suicide note?

             Aug. 9, 15
Dear Artle
   I Will son be
   go on I Cant stand this pain
   dont worry you
   Will be better of
   good by Dear
            Jennie
   I Cant get wel
   god will for give me

Or how about this one?

you are not to blame for anything I took it all alone.

 Those notes were evidence produced by the grieving husband of our relative, Ida Jane "Jennie" Kimbell McCormick, when he was put on trial for her death.  Jennie had been in poor health since shortly after their marriage (her third marriage) in June of 1914, and Arthur had hired a nurse and consulted a physician in an attempt to diagnose her mysterious illness. However, his efforts were to no avail and she died leaving an estate of $100,000.  The initial coroner's report determined that "she came to her death while seated at dinner August 9 from strychnine poison taken with suicidal intent." (article from Grand Rapids Press, 17 August 1915).

Jennie was buried in her family plot in White Cloud, Michigan, but concerns about her mysterious death were not buried with her.  Public opinion demanded that another inquest be held after the "women of Ladysmith, Wisconsin" shared their interpretation of the tragedy - which included their impressions of Arthur as a smooth talking, suave rascal who seemed to be very interested in Jennie's money.

During this investigation, Arthur (or Astor) McCormick claimed that Jennie had appeared to him on after her death and instructed him where to find her suicide note that would surely exonerate him.  He appeared at the district attorney's office with the first one, and when that didn't seem to be convincing enough, Jennie conveniently came to Arthur in a "vision" in the middle of the hearing telling him of the second note under the rug in her bedroom. 

However, after convincing testimony from a handwriting expert, John Tyrrell, Jennie's notes were found to be phony and Mr. McCormick was found guilty of first degree murder and sentenced to life in prison, having killed his wife by poisoning.

To read the article that brought all this to light, click here.

Merry Christmas - 1939

 To a young and starry eyed 14 year old Leona, Lou's Christmas gift of a cameo bracelet was thrilling.

 

But even more exciting was the accompanying card which gave her real status as his "girlfriend."

 

70 years of Christmas memories

. . . so many wonderful memories

A request to the Davis grandchildren for Christmas memories brought several responses.  These are from Alice Bell Higgs.

I have so many wonderful memories of Grandma and Grandpa Davis I hardly know where to start.  

Early style Cracker Jack box

One Christmas I remember we went to Haswell and to the ranch and Grandma Davis had made a bushel basket of Cracker Jacks.  I have tried to make some for my kids and I end up with a whole bunch of very soggy popcorn not even the birds would eat!

 She also had saved a lot of spools and made whistles for all of us.  

I've never been able to make those either.

 One time she was making taffy for us to help pull, and Hubert was just tall enough to reach up and put his fingers into that hot candy.  Grandma grabbed him up and sent one of the boys to the shop for a small can of kerosene.  She sat and rocked that baby with his fingers in that kerosene until he went to sleep.  Grandma always knew what to do.  I guess when you raise 14 kids you have to!  I don't remember if we made the taffy.

'Tis the Season

. . . for some great memories!

Christmas 1977

Leona - Lou

Jim - Don - Tom

Leona - Lou

(Lou and his family must have been home in Utah)

Lynn - Tesi - Carol

Leona - Lou

Butler Grandchildren

Beth (niece) -Kristie - Kari - Emily - Tommy - Chuckie

Nathan - Jamie - Jeremy

Enjoy the Christmas Season!

O Christmas Tree

In December of 1958 we decided that we would get a permit and go to the mountains to get our own Christmas tree like we had read in so many stories about people doing.  We would have sloppy-joes to eat (because we could take it up and keep it hot) and hot chocolate and wouldn’t need to have a fire.

Five men on a mission!
Lou, Jr - Don - Tom - Jim - Lou, Sr
blurry picture, but it documents the infamous day

We had our tree hunting expedition in the mountains near San Isabel, above Rye, Colorado.  It was a cool, crisp day with snow on the ground and a lot of sunshine.  It was a great day for a Christmas tree hunting party!

Leona has always been very particular about her Christmas tree.  It had to be of excellent shape with well filled out limbs in the right places, etc.  So as soon as we got out of the car, the four boys went in four directions - each going to find the perfect tree that would suit Mom.  As they each would find one, they would call for her to come see it.  Since they didn’t stay together, she was having to run all over the mountainside to inspect the finds of each boy.

Naturally the boys never found the same tree, nor were their trees together, so she had a long walk between them.  They were not finding very good trees that were satisfactory to her.  As time went by, and after many trips across the little valley between the two ridges that the boys were on, she became less critical and finally said, “Just take any one; I’m tired!”  Jim and Don carried a tree in from the forest, and we tied it on top of our station wagon.  Leona got the lunch ready for us; we were all starving.

Christmas tree lunch
Jim - Don (front)
Lou, Jr - Tom - Leona (back

We had a good time, and the tree was satisfactory, but for some reason we never went back to the mountains for another Christmas tree!

Same old story

You've probably realized by now that present life sometimes gets in the way of preserving the past - and I've reached one of those sometimes this week.  As a result, I'm taking a Christmas break from blogging and will be back in 2012 with more stories, pictures and memories to share. 

For the remainder of this month, I'll re-post some memories from previous Decembers.  Because really, our memories just get better with time!