52 Weeks of Personal Genealogy & History Songs

The day I was born, the #1 song on the American charts was The Association’s WINDY.  I can honestly say that I don’t remember listening to that song.  I know it and I’ve heard it a billion times, but my parents rarely had music on and when they did, it was the Doors or the like.

My formative years were spent listening to punk music.  I still do.  It’s just part of who we are.  Our kids listen to it, too, although my husband is more of a techno punk guy  than garage, so they have more of that influence since they spend their days with him.

But we also spend much time with the Beatles in this household.  We all agree that the Beatles work for all of us and so we play them frequently.  The kids are particularly fond of Yellow Submarine (doing all the voices and acting out the movie).

But Windy?  I don’t think that’s on our iPods…

52 Weeks of Personal Genealogy & History Neighbors

My childhood was filled with moves and with living on wide-open spaces.  Neighbors then were basically anyone you saw at least once a week.  Now it’s the people on my street.  Back then, I count neighbors as those I went to school with.  I still see most of them and we’ve remained friends through the years.  I did live in a city for a year and my across the street neighbor/best friend and I hooked back up a year or so ago.  So, yes, I still am close with old neighbors.

Now things are different.  At least in our new neighborhood.  In our new neighborhood (we moved about 2 years ago), we know only our next door neighbors and only in a “will you feed my dog while we’re gone” sort of way.  They are super nice but we just wave.

Our old neighborhood on the other hand was more like the village that takes care of each other.  We were all (and still are) family not neighbors.  I miss that.

Tombstone Tuesday: GD Mariani

A couple of Thursdays ago, I visited the California Genealogical Society library and met a wonderful woman (Jane) who helped me find the burial place of someone I was researching: GD Mariani.   She helped me find the California, San Francisco Area Funeral Home Records, 1835-1931 on FamilySearch.  In there, in Godeau’s Day Book 1, we found Giusseppe Mariani, died 21 July 1895 in the French Hospital. Buried 26 July 1895 it IOOF Cemetery, age 55. 

At the mention of IOOF, Jane got excited, told me it stood for “International/Independent Order of Odd Fellows and ran off for a book.  She came back with a VERY LARGE tattered book listing all those buried at IOOF.  Very old.  Very awesome.  Among the listed was my GD.  GD had been buried in Tier 1, Lot 27 in the Avenue Section with Godeau as the funeral home.

Oddly, having never heard of the French Hospital, one of my book club cohorts (nothing at all to do with genealogy) discussed it at our meeting last week, as she grew up in San Francisco and her family were members.  The French Hospital had very low dues and then very low payments to receive services.  They “contracted” with different societies around San Francisco and that is how I imagine my GD got in as he was prominent in the Ticanese Benevolent Society.  You can read more about the French Hospital here.

IOOF cemetery, as all cemeteries in San Francisco (except Mission Dolores and the Presidio) were moved to Colma to make room for houses and industry.  The IOOF moved happened in 1929, when the San Francisco Board of Supervisors passed an ordinance requiring the removal.  It took six years to move all the IOOF remains to Greenlawn Cemetery in Colma.  All the bodies were put together in a mass grave.  If their markers were unclaimed, they were used in seawalls, rain gutters in Buena Vista Park, and even the foundation of the Golden Gate Bridge.

Military Monday: Miles Franklin Price

This is my grandfather who was in the Civil War, Miles Franklin Price, and his wife, Emmaline Markham.  I have yet to order his pension records, but once I do, I’m sure I will have quite a few Military Mondays.  I love this picture because he's smiling and looks happy.

Sentimental Sunday: Wedding Vows

The second set of vows on this page were the vows that Marc and I spoke to each other on 6 August 1988 at the Grace Lutheran Church in Palo Alto, Santa Clara County, California.  I remember not a single word and, in fact, very little of that day at all.   I remember that in the middle of the ceremony, Marc whispered without moving his lips that there was a plastic cow in his pocket.  And I remember my dad made me laugh walking down the aisle.  But that’s about it. 

Sympathy Saturday: Harriet Elizabeth Conner

My grandfather’s sister, Harriet, was a wonderful woman.  We were very close with her growing up, so I spent a lot of time with her.  She never, ever treated us like children; we were always treated like an adult and that made us feel special.  She would “hire” us at garage sales to walk around and serve fruit picked from her trees.  She had a dog that was wiry and  tall and his name was Rabbit.  Rabbit was her constant companion and so we loved Rabbit, too.  She took me shopping for my birthday and bought me a shirt to match her so that we could be twins. 

Although she bought me presents for my birthday, apparently I just drew presents for her.  She sent this to me a few years before she passed away, touching me that she’d kept it all these years.  I miss my Auntie Harriet.



For Harriet Elizabeth Conner, born 15 March 1921, Philip, Haakon County, South Dakota.  Died 17 Oct 2001, Murphys, Calaveras County, California.

Funeral Card Friday: Olive Silveira

Olive was my husband’s grandmother.  She was born in Hayward, Alameda County, California on 21 May 1905 and died in San Jose, Santa Clara County, California on 8 August 1987, just almost a year before Marc and I were married.  I visited her often and she always made me laugh.  I wish I’d gotten to know her better, though.