Christmas Mansion Tour Part Two

A bench on either side of the door greeted me at the Bingham-Waggoner house in 

Independence, Missouri, the Queen City of the Trails, as it is called. 

I love how the benches were decorated this year.  I could not stop at the bottom of the stairs to take a picture, as it was raining.  I had the camera safely protected. 

The theme this year was "All Wrapped Up". 

A vignette from one of the two front parlors of the house... this one was used as an 

office by the Waggoners.  

The painter George Caleb Bingham owned this house before the Waggoners, at the time of the Civil War. 

The front hallway, the two parlors are to the left... the stairs lead to the second and third floors... and that's the dining room to the right... and the east entrance of the house. 

That's the original wood-burning stove in the kitchen... the Waggoner's cook and her daughter 

inherited this beautiful house after the last Waggoner son died.  They subsequently sold it 

to the Historical Society, thank heavens, so we can all enjoy it. 

The butler's pantry just outside of the kitchen. 

The dining room was awash in a sea of red and gold. 

The table is massive. 

There are 8 bedrooms on the second floor, and this, the Bingham room, was one of the 

originals, built when the house was orignally constructed.  The Waggoners added onto it. 

I loved the simple tartan theme. 

It is set up right now as an office.  

Those are Bingham lithos on the walls and over the fireplace.  

That looks like "Order Number 11" on the wall, that incited this area of 

Missouri to riot during the war. 

Next bedroom over, a man's bedroom... you see the frieze on the wall... there is a different one in 

each bedroom. 

This bedroom is set up as a nursery. 

I was told by a tour guide a long, long time ago that the last Waggoner son, (I believe Harry) used 

this small bedroom, because he could let his dogs out on the balcony through this door. 

A detail of a frieze.  

One of the bedrooms is used as an office, and I have been privileged to see that bedroom in it's un-restored state... the paint rather faded but the frieze still in great shape. 

Looking down the hallway from north to south... see the clothes press in the wall?  On the 

left you can also see the call box, for the owners to call downstairs to the kitchen or housekeeper as they needed.  The restored frieze goes clear around the house in the hallways. 

This is one of the servants rooms on the third floor.  The person using this room had a reading niche there in the window... and a dresser just out of sight to the right. 

There were four servant's rooms on this floor, and a capacious bathroom for them to use, 

as well as a large day room, that is set up for hot chocolate and cookies during the Christmas season. 

I think those who worked in the Waggoner's household were probably pretty happy with their jobs.  

I enjoyed my trip back through time to Christmas past... but I think I am going to skip next year's visit... and go in a couple of years.  It's a long, tiring drive for me... 

and I'd like for Keith to see the houses, too. 

I was able to see my son Jeff for a bit after I finished, and take him home from work.  It was nice to visit and catch up with him, and we'll be seeing him again at Christmas time in a few weeks.  He has lived in Independence for many years,but does not drive and does not have a phone. 

Who doesn't have a phone?????  

I accept it, though, for what it is!  

It was a good day, but I am still tuckered out from this cold, I admit it.  

Still trying to finish our decorating here, as well!  

How are you all coming along? 

The Little Church

As promised, today I'm going to show you some pictures of the Little Stranger Church, which I 

"found" a few weeks ago.  I probably drove past it a hundred times, it sits on a small rise, and you don't notice it from the road. 

This is the side I saw from Tonganoxie Road, which winds clear to Lansing. 

I thought to myself: 

"Did I see a tombstone up there by that house?" 

So Thursday, I went early to my appointment at the post, and investigated. 

Here is the dedication plaque you see to the right of the door in the first picture. 

Click on it to "biggify it" if you need to.  It's very interesting. 

It says it was used as a meeting place for the community of Boling, which surrounds it.  Boling is pronounced "Balling".  There is still a 4H club based in Boling, and a water district. 

There are beautiful old stones around the church. 

We live near Stranger Creek, which runs through Leavenworth County to the Kansas River. 

Here is the east side of the church, with a grand old tree, dead now, near it.  You can still see stones.  I know there is a well somewhere, see the pipe going into the building?  That also looks like a standpipe behind it. 

I grew up in Wyandotte County, to the east of here, which has it's own wonderful history, but I'm going to stop at the Carroll Mansion in Leavenworth and research this old church.  It was not used as a church after 1918, but was a community gathering place after that.  Even though this is the week after Memorial Day, the graveyard was not mowed, and some of the stones have fallen over, but been set upright. 

I'd like to research the history of this old place soon. 

The Carroll Mansion is the home of the Leavenworth County Historical Society. 

I hope you enjoyed this trip back in time, and the next time I go, I'll have my muck boots and long pants on, so I can walk amongst the stones and take pictures and say a prayer for the people buried there. 

I'm saying prayers today, too, for those affected by yesterday's storms, whether in Oklahoma, Arkansas, or Missouri... so much sadness for all these folks. 

A Remembrance of Days Past

You know that I love to collect old pictures, and recently featured pictures I bought at auction and had developed from the old negatives.  Those pictures were from occupied Japan, circa 1945-6. 

With the same group of pictures, I got small photos removed from an album, which will be featured soon.  I also bought about 25 of the best tintypes I had ever seen, with most of the pictures still very clear and legible.  Tonight's story will feature some of them. 

Before I start, I will say that it was very, very hot here... heat index well in the triple digits, and high humidity.  Hard on animals and man. 

I took a half day vacation to come home and make sure all the animals were safe... found Inca in the swimming pool... and the birds suffering in the heat.  All the dogs were safely in the house.

Thank heavens for air conditioning!

So here are some of the wonderful old tintypes I got.

I know this is crooked, but so is the tintype.  I like to think that these are four sisters... Like the "Little Women", Jo, Amy, Meg and Beth. 

Why do I suspect these are two brothers and their wives?  I love the boater hats... do you suppose they were about to go on an excursion?  1890s, my guess.

I love this one because of the sweet children.  Do you suppose those are little purses, or Easter baskets?

My guess is the little tyke in the middle with the bonnet is a boy!

Another dapper group, out for a day's trip for a picnic.  Three couples, friends all, I suspect.

Today, when I got home, I found one of my favorite birds dead in the doghouse in the dogpen out in the pasture, not killed by a predator, dead, we think, from the heat. 

RIP Angel, most beautiful of hens

Finding the Key

While I was at the cemetery looking for our forebears, I came across a small stone, set in the ground.

On it was written:

I backtracked and took a picture, even though the last name was not spelled right.

When I found the 1900 census records, my great-grandparents were already older, and all their children had moved out and established their own families.  However, there was a third person living in the household, and his name had come up when I first searched for my great-grandfather.  That surname for the person was Angell, and I found that there were several families of Angells in Tonganoxie at the time.  It turned out that the third person was a young boy of 6, and was their grandson. 

Which daughter was his mother?  I have not found out, yet.

When I saw this stone, I was fascinated, and wondered if I had found a clue, because Great Grandfather Marcus and Great Grandmother Katrine (Catherine) had had a daughter Mary.  I still think it could be her.

Directly east of her stone, I found them:

I was so glad to know they were resting in such a beautiful place.  My mother knew my great grandfather, because he died in 1939, not long after she and dad were married. Their graves lie just in front of this beautiful grove of trees.

I am still experiencing problems with Blogger... is anyone else?  I am unable to resize pictures reliably, so apologize for the small ones in this story.

Hubbell Hill Cemetery is full of lovely old peony plants and iris... and still has room in it.  If we had not already decided to be in the national cemetery at Lansing, this would be a good place to rest.

An Afternoon at the Museum

For many years, I have been interested in our family geneology.  My dad died so very young, at 55, that my sister and I were not even 20 when it happened.  He came from a farm family of Danish descent, from Schleswig-Holstein in Germany.  My mother's family was Irish on both sides.  We children were given copies of our family bible pages listing some relatives, and we had nothing much more to go on.  Neither family took pictures... in fact, I probably have less than 100 pictures of my family as we grew up in the 50's. 

A year ago, I took a class one night at the library in Tonganoxie, and brought home a packet of papers with lots of good information.  There they sat in their envelope, staring at me here in the computer room.  Then, one night, I searched high and low for the papers my mother had given my sister and me, showing what she knew of both sides of the family. 

I joined Ancestry.com.  For those of you researching your families, you know what that did.  Sleepless nights.  Long afternoons, when I sat down to look one thing up, and looked up hours later to see the afternoon had gone.  I am absolutely fascinated by the fact that we knew only my mother's dad.... as the old gentleman who slept after holiday meals.... and rarely addressed us.... and my dad's mom... who was not a cuddly grandma at all, but perched us on little stools in front of her to talk to us.  The study of our family history has brought literally HUNDREDS of relatives to light, and I am only about 4 generations back.  There, I have to stop and go to Europe, so I am fleshing out those who lived in America first. 

When finished, I'll present the findings to my brothers (and their kids) and my sister and her son.  My own kids will get copies.

It's good for people to know from whence they came.

As part of this study, I have stopped by the Tonganoxie Historical Site, (and am going to join the Historical Society).  It is in a dairy barn that at one time was the largest dairy in Kansas... and they also have a lovely church moved to the site, and a wonderful one room school.  I took these pictures there...

Any idea?????  It came from a beauty shop and was used to give permanents! It looks like a medieval torture instrument! All those dangly things attached to your hair and the current was turned on!

This picture is marked "Captain Jim Hoey", "Meanest Man in Leavenworth County".

Hmmmm. He kind of looks it.

This is the Reno Methodist Church, which was moved to the site.  It can be rented for weddings, meetings, etc. and has a kitchen in the basement, along with a meeting room.

And this is the Honey Creek School, also moved to the site, and can be used by teachers for history lessons:

The whole site is lovingly maintained by mostly older volunteers, with donated exhibits and on a strict budget, I'm sure.  It's well worth a visit, and someday maybe I can volunteer there. 

Is anyone else having Blogger issues these days?  I notice slower navigation and difficulty in posting pictures at times.  I am just wondering if I'm alone. 

Something Else to be Thankful About

When I was growing up, the Petersons (my family) took very few pictures.  All we had was a very boxy Kodak camera from the forties, and my parents never thought about recording moments in our lives.  Where I have thousands of pictures of my kids and grandkids, I have very few of my own family.

The ones I do have, I treasure.  Every few months, my sister and I talk about meeting with our Peterson cousins to try to get copies of photos that they have, to fill out our family knowledge.  We have yet to do it, and now we are 60 and 58 respectively, and if we don't do it, the knowledge will be lost, because our kids barely know their relatives.  Anyway, I am grateful for the one picture I have, be it bent in the middle, of my dad and his siblings and parents.  My dad, born in 1914, is the little towheaded boy on the left front row.  His sister Mary was still alive when this family picture was taken, but died at 23 from scarlet fever, that killed so many back then. My grandfather Hans was a carpenter, and my grandmother Nancy bucked her family to change religions and marry him.  She never wanted any of her kids to marry, and indeed, Marcus and Ruth stayed home and ran the (eventual) farm, and took care of Mom.

Back row:  Ruth, John, Mary

Front row:  Joe, (my pa) Hans, Frank, Nancy, Marcus

Frank, the little boy in the middle, grew up to be the spittin' image of his daddy!