A Day with a Distant Cousin!

Towards the end of October, I received an email from a gentleman who happens to be my fifth cousin or fourth cousin once removed – or something like that! A distant relative to be sure. He found me through the blog, or rather, his brother found me and told Jesse to contact me!

Jesse is a descendant of John Bray and his second wife, Elizabeth Coones (or Cooney or Coonie or Coonies or Coonis) through their daughter Sophia. I am a descendant of John and his first wife, reported to be Nancy Morgan, through their son Samuel Bray. John and Nancy are my 4th great grandparents.

Anyway, Jesse said he'd like to meet with me sometime. So, since I was headed south and Vevay was more or less on the way, I said I could stop by on the 9th. That also happened to be the only day this week he had free! Great timing, eh?

Me and my cousin, Jesse. November 9, ...The Markland Dam and Ohio River in the background.
We spent a couple of hours at the Switzerland County Library in Vevay comparing information then took a drive to McKay Cemetery where John Bray is buried.

Jesse had a copy of the marriage record of John Bray and Elizabeth but it was difficult to read. The county seat of Gallatin County, Kentucky is Warsaw, which happens to be across the river a short distance east of Vevay. It was a beautiful day (sunshine and 70 degrees! In November!!) and the drive took just a few minutes.

The marriage records were in the office of the County Clerk located in a building behind the courthouse. The earliest marriage records were in a binder whose back had separated so all the pages were loose. Each page had also been laminated. The record for John Bray and Elizabeth is at the bottom of a page numbered 59. Rather than try to make a paper copy, I used my digital camera... (double click on the image to see a larger version).

Elizabeth's last name is in the middle of the fifth line from the bottom...
After examining the full page containing this and two other records, I think her last name is Coonis. The word directly beneath her name is Licens and is written the same way on the other two records on that page. It is definitely not Cooney, which is how it is transcribed in the published book.

At any rate, how it is spelled is probably a moot point, since what Jesse really wants to know is what is her maiden name! Elizabeth would have been about 18 years old and a widow when she married John Bray. There is no record of her first marriage in Gallatin County, Kentucky and we don't know what happened to her husband. John was 12 days shy of being 60 years old when he married Elizabeth. His youngest daughter by his first marriage was 16 years old – but she had been married the year before when only 15 years of age. So, John was an “empty nester” and perhaps didn't like living by himself...

John passed away on June 10, 1832 at age 71 – the three youngest children by his wife Elizabeth, were Amelia, George and Sophia – age 11, 9, and 3, respectively. Elizabeth was married for a third time to Robert Bakes on October 4, 1834. He passed away in 1847. Elizabeth died in 1876. The 1850 and 1870 census records show that she was born in Kentucky about 1798-1800, though Jesse has her birth year as 1802.

After a short visit to the library, Jesse and I stopped at Jewels, a little restaurant on Main Street in Warsaw, for a late lunch. The place was full with no empty tables, but a lady waved us over to her table saying we could join her and her husband. Turns out they were friends of Jesse! A rather nice coincidence. The food was good as was the company.

All in all, it was a delightful day. Thank you, Jesse, for inviting me to visit! It was a pleasure meeting you.

Patchwork Quilt

The problem of translating sensation and experience into words. Or any communicative form for that matter. Human have struggled with it since... well, since always it seems like. We've dedicated entire disciplines to it. We approach it with art. We approach it with science. We approach it with philosophy, and all manner of things in between. And still we cannot simply show our inner world to others.




Know what I mean?




Arguably, the answer is no. Always no, even if we say yes and believe it. We never, ever really know what somebody else means. We are clever and we guess. Or we model it on ourselves, try thoughts, ideas, images and even emotions on for size. But in the process it becomes once again our experience, not the other's.




Maybe now I've confused you and you feel comfortable saying no. "No, I have no idea what you mean."




Good.




Look. We all need to make sense of experience.And in doing so, it's tempting and convenient to plug it into a template -a template where the experience is transformed into an archetypical story.




Like - OMG I was all unsure of myself. Can I do a 200K? I mean it's so hard, I don't know. But wait... I trained and I did it! Yay!




Although that's a little brief. Let's get the village involved.




So I trained, and my friends were like "We believe in you!" and I was like "Aw you guys!"




Okay, but still a little thin. So hang on, let's add some uncertainty.




Oh no, it's the week before the ride and I overtrained?..




Yes, like that. But perhaps more panic.




Oh no, it's the week before The Ride and I overtrained!




Enter the comments, that post-post-postmodern Greek Chorus.




Chorus 1: You overtrained, oh no!

Chorus 2: You overtrained, I told you so!

Chorus 3: Now you must rest before you go!




Oh gosh, whatever will happen? Will I make it? Be sure to read tomorrow and find out!




I have a bad feeling...




Whenever I say or think that now, Carmela Soprano appears in my head. She wears a tight beige cashmere sweater. Her hair is in a French twist.




I've got a bad feeling (New Jersey accent, thick mascara, eyes full of meaning). Yesthis is what I mean.




Carmela: Tell me, what is this bad feeling?




OMG you read my blog?




Carmela: No, not really. But you know, I was thinking of getting in shape, being more active. Biking to the hair salon.




Oh but that's wonderful! ...Have you tried a Bella Ciao Neorealista?




We hug and share a delicious pastry. Then she rides away.




That feeling of being in a pre-determined script.My inner experience forced into training-diary vocab and follow-along storylines. It's all wrong.




Know what I mean?




Chorus 1:Yes

Chorus 2: No

Chorus 3: Will you ever review a budget bike?




Huh?




Chorus 3:Oops, wrong post.




Oh ok.




Cycling.Something is changing. There is wilting and blossoming and quiet and explosions of sound. I try to think of a better way to explain.

The Residence of John Brubaker

I'll admit it. Oftentimes, as I've perused the old county atlas books, I've been somewhat envious of the beautiful engravings of family farms within their pages. I always thought it would be "neat" to have one of my families included but they just weren't there, at least not in the books I've looked at! Several years ago, my uncle gave me some of the pictures and other papers that he had gotten when his mother (my grandmother) died. There were pictures I had never seen before, at least not that I remember having seen before. Among them, the image below, which shows the residence of John Brubaker, my 3rd great grandfather.


Yellow and faded, securely attached to a piece of heavy cardboard, it just barely fit on the flatbed scanner. How and when did my grandmother come into possession of this picture? Well, that's a good question. In that box from my uncle, there were also some pictures of Thornton Brubaker and his family as well as several of the children of Samuel Brubaker. They were John's sons and half-brothers of my 2nd great-grandfather, William Brubaker. My guess would be that whomever gave her those pictures also gave her the picture of John's residence. Wherever she got them, I'm sure glad she kept them!

I've seen the "Combination Atlas Map of Huntington County, Indiana" published in 1879, but I don't recall seeing this image in it. Yesterday, I decided to see what other atlases had been published in the late 1880s. The first thing that came up on Google search was a hit on the David Rumsey Collection! Turns out, the image above was printed on page 125 (center of page, left side) of the "Illustrated Historical Atlas of the State of Indiana" which was published by Baskin, Forster & Co., Chicago, 1876. Engraved & Printed by Chas. Shober & Co. Props. of Chicago Lithographing Co.

What is great about it being in the David Rumsey Collection is that you can zoom in and enlarge the pages. The detail in the images on the Rumsey site is incredible. A map of Huntington County is on page 66 of the atlas. The "homepage" of the atlas shows that there are 187 images covering all 92 counties of the state.

Thanks to an unknown benefactor many years ago, my grandmother, and my uncle, I have a very nice piece of my family history. One of these days I'm going to make the trip to Huntington County (it's only about a 40 minute drive) and see if I can find his farm. I doubt that the house is still standing, but it's possible...

Trail to the Sun

Trail to the Sun, originally uploaded by ParsecTraveller.

Waiting for sunset on Poly Mountain in San Luis Obispo, California. The other shots I took were marred by pesky dust particles...time to clean the sensor.

The hills appear to be brown in the photo, but close examination of the earth along the trail revealed thousands of tiny seedlings coming up due to the 7.5 inches of rain we received the other day.

Happy new year

Laura on approach to climbing this morning!

Smokin' Truck

Recently our friends called when their old Ford pickup caught on fire at the local Walmart. It was quite and experience for them. Hubby went took our hay trailer down and hauled it back to the house.

They had called 911 to get the fire department to come put out the fire. But the pumper on the firetruck didn't want to work at first. Heck of a thing when a firetrucks pumper don't work. Last photo shows inside the cab of the truck where the whole dash was burnt to a crisp. Everything under the hood (bonnet - if your in England) was crispy critters, too. The fire was so hot it melted the windshield, and most of the wiring. Just glad they were in a parking lot when it happened instead of how the highway or a street where it could have been worse. And that they were able to get out of the truck with out getting hurt.

Later when the guys looked at it closer they thought that some of the wiring had caught fire right over the fuel hose and burned the hose into so that raw gas was pouring out really causing the truck to burn. I understand the flames where really high. The guys have been working to overhaul another Ford truck that our friend had picked up recently. After the one truck burned they found a rats nest of sticks and grass in the other truck. They wondered if it was possible that a rat had a nest in the truck that burned, also. Neither had been driven all winter so it is possible.

Eventually it will be dismembered and hauled to a metal recycle place.

So remember if you haven't driven your vehicle for a while check for rat's nests in them. You never know when your Ford truck will be Found in Road Dead like this one was. (Only it was a Walmart parking lot).

The Risky Business of Attracting Women

On my way to Interbike registration yesterday, I walked by the Bikes Belong booth as they were setting up their new poster. I snapped a picture, uploaded it to Twitter, and received a flurry of hilarious reactions - ranging from "Where does she keep her keys?" to "Find Cipo and reshoot the scene!"




Of course this is a reference to Elly Blue's "Is this thing sexist?" bike test. Modeled after the Bechdel Test for women in movies, the bike test asks:

1.Are women present or represented at all?

2. Are the women presented as active subjects rather than passive objects?, and

3. If the gender were reversed, would the meaning stay more or less unchanged? (Or would the image become hilarious?)

Showing a woman pedaling a bicycle, the poster passes points 1 and 2. Assessing point 3 is trickier. Of course a poster of an identically dressed male would look ridiculous, but that's taking it too literally. What about a young male dressed in tight-tight cutoff shorts, a plaid shirt flapping open in the breeze, and a pained, sexy expression on his strategically unshaven face? I'd consider that the equivalent, in which case the meaning would indeed remain unchanged. So I say the Bikes Belong poster passes.




Still, images of women cycling in dresses and heels seem prone to rubbing us the wrong way. It is hard to describe what brings about the sense of unease, especially for those of us who actually wear dresses and heels on a bike. Often it boils down to subtle things: A coy facial expression, an unnatural posture, a too-conveniently billowing skirt... Point is, from a marketing perspective, images designed to attract women to cycling seem inherently risky. Too sporty or gender-neutral, and they can be read as "there is no place for femininity on the bike." Too feminine and they can be read as gendered, objectifying, or downright pornographic. The line between attracting women and offending them is blurry.







And while the sphere of roadcycling seems far removed from transportational advocacy, the same basic theme arises - see, for instance, Bike Shop Girl's "The Bike Industry Needs More Women Like Liz Hatch". When speaking to Felt Bicycles later in the day, the question of colour and graphics came up as well. When I commented on the dark violet hue of Felt's new women's road model, the representative explained how difficult it is to develop a colour scheme for women's lines of bikes. On the one hand, there is now a great deal of criticism hurled at anything pink, pastel or flowery. On the other hand, gender-neutral colour schemes don't sell as well. Women want something feminine, but not too feminine. They do not want a caricature of "girl bike," but they do want it distinguished from the men's models. I have heard exactly the same thing from the manufacturers of athletic cycling clothing. There is now almost a stigma to producing a women's jersey with any trace of the colour pink or flowers on it. Yet there is demand for feminine styles. Designers have to get a lot more creative these days in coming up with those styles; hitting just the right note is tricky.







Still, I believe the bicycle industry will keep trying. With women referred to as the "indicator species" for the success of transportational cycling and with the push for more women in cycling as a sport, the pressure is coming from all directions. As both manufacturers and activists struggle to figure out how exactly to market to women, we are likely to see some interesting results in the years to come.