#47- How Charles Tyson Made His Family Proud - A Recollection from His Son

How Charles Tyson Made His Parents Proud

Edwin Comly Tyson and Susannah Griffith, Charles' parents, would have been proud of Charles. As a young man he struck out, and learned a trade, settled in a new town, found a gal, had a family and became fairly prosperous. 

The point of family history is not to state the facts, but to fill in the "who's, why's and how's" answering questions such as, Why did he do this? Who helped him? How did he make his decision, or find his way? But unless we have recorded information, we can only guess or deduce some of those, and much of it we will never know.

I was lucky enough to find a letter from his son (my gr grandfather's brother) Edwin “Ned” Tyson (b. 1864). Ned was a genealogist and meticulous in his attention to detail. Apparently Ned wrote a letter in response to a letter from Albert Cook Meyers, a distant relative of his. Meyers had a question regarding Ned's father. Ned outlines for Meyers when, how and why his father came from Philadelphia to Gettysburg, PA.

The story was set in motion when my great-great grandfather Charles Julian Tyson decided to move: He headed out of Philadelphia in the 1859. 

Below is my transcription of Ned Tyson's letter to Albert Cook Meyers. Just a note: the photo is of Ned Tyson, Charles' eldest son, because Ned preserved so much family history. Though an uncle, he deserves some kind of honor in this space)

Edwin (Ned) Comly Tyson - Preservationist

Albert Cook Meyers
Moylan, Pennsylvania
January 29, 1940

Dear Albert:

Thy very interesting communication of the 26th finds me temporarily in bed as being the best place in the doctor's belief for me to complete recuperation from the effects of the Farm Show and I have had the Dictaphone moved down to facilitate my taking care of various business correspondence. The clipping for the 1860 Census taken by Aaron Sheely is interesting.

In 1859 Father [Charles J Tyson] left his home in Philadelphia where living conditions were none too rosy to strike out for himself. As he was born in 1838 he was then just under 21 years of age. Just why he started in this direction [towards Gettysburg] I don't completely recall, but he finally landed in York [PA] and called on a photographer at that place asking for a job.

The photographer had plenty of help, but suggested that there should be a good opening for a photographer at Gettysburg and recommended that Father proceed there and look over the situation which he did.

Upon investigation he decided that Gettysburg should be a good starting point, a situation which was concurred in by Judge Wills and several other prominent Gettysburg people whom he consulted. 

He found that Judge Wills had a building adjoining and in fact attached to his residence which, with certain alterations, would be suitable for a photographic gallery and upon consultation with carpenters it was determined that the necessary changes could be made for $200.00, and Judge Wills agreed to stake him for the room rent for a year and the carpenter for the carpenter work when Father divulged to them that he just had $10.00 to his name.

It was arranged that the carpenter make alterations at once which they estimated would take about two weeks.

And in the meantime Father returned to York and arranged to work for his board with the photographer previously consulted for the purpose of learning the business, he having no previous workable knowledge of it.

I think it was the following First-day [Sunday] after he had returned to Gettysburg and started a business that he learned of a settlement of Friends [Quakers] up this way [Menallen and Warrington Meetings], and hired a team and drove out to Meeting and was invited home to dinner by Cyrus Griest which proved to be a momentous trip and the start of a friendship which resulted in his marrying Cyrus Griest’s daughter in April 1863.

His business flourished and the report thee sends indicates that by June 1860 he had secured the assistance of his brother, Isaac Tyson, establishing the firm of Tyson Bros. and continuing for several years until Uncle Isaac returned to Philadelphia to open a gallery for himself in that city which he continued the balance of his life, he having in the meantime married a first cousin of Mother’s [Maria E Griest], Rachel Griest.

Father and Mother [Charles J Tyson & Maria Griest] lived on what was then the lower end of Chambersburg Street at the time of the battle [Gettysburg] between the homes of William Boyer who was then a grocery man with a store, which later became Eckerts store, and Annie Hannaway and only a few doors east of John Burner’s home.

They were warned to leave their home on the first of July and left before noon getting as far as Littlestown (south east) where they remained till the morning of the 4th [Jul 4 1863].

-- Ned Tyson

Source:

MB Walmer Collection

#29 - Genealogist Uncle Edwin Tyson, son of Charles and Maria

UNCLE- #2/52 - 2019

Which one?  My grandmother (Elizabeth Tyson)'s uncle, one of her father's two brothers.

~ BACKGROUND ~

Uncle Edwin C (Ned) Tyson, husband of Mary (Hawxhurst) and father of two girls. 

He was born Edwin Comly Tyson in 1864 and died in 1945 in Adams County PA, four years after his wife died. He was the eldest child of Charles J Tyson & Maria (Griest). He had one sister Mary Anna Tyson, and two brothers Chester Julian and William Cyrus.
One of the many things Uncle Ned did was to keep the books for the Tyson family's orchard business when his brother Chester was alive (he died in the 1930s). While Ned kept all the affairs on the home front neat, brother Chester moved about juggling projects (the soon-to-be USDA, PA Fruit Growers Association, and at Penn State) and conducting business requiring travel.

Edwin C Tyson

 ~WHY CHOSE EDWIN C TYSON?~
I did not know him for he died before my parents were wed.
But here's why I know about him: he was a family genealogist.

Moreover he was a Quaker genealogist. I chose him because when I conduct my own research, I'm always reminded of the old saw "We stand on the shoulders of giants." For that is certainly true in genealogy. We owe a debt of gratitude to the many preservationists, recorders and researchers who went before us. Ironically most of those people are unknown, lost to the ages.  And so I'm paying tribute to one of those people in this post: Uncle Ned Tyson was a genealogist.

I've access to some of the letters he received, and I'm amazed by the requests. He lived close to the Quaker Meeting House, and  Clerk of the Meeting. But more than that, it's clear that he was careful and deliberate in his responses to questions.
He received requests from all over for records from that area of Pennsylvania. Apparently the York County  (PA) Genealogical Society relied heavily on him for births, deaths and marriages from the Quaker meeting records he had access to.
His research was restricted to Quaker records in Southeast Pennsylvania. It seems that the rate of requests snowballed both in quantity and in complexity.

In the Margaret B Walmer Collection* I discovered some interesting correspondence.
In the field of US Quaker genealogy William Wade Hinshaw is the "granddaddy" of Quaker Records. In the 1940s Hinshaw was in the process of completing his multi-volume collection of Quaker records. In 1944 Hinshaw sent great great Uncle Ned a series of letters.  The first one I found began with a congratulations (From the Margaret B (Tilton) Walmer Collection): 

WilliamW Hinshaw to Edwin Tyson (MBW Coll)

This was not the last letter he received from William Wade Hinshaw.

Hinshaw subsequently suggested that they have overlapping fields of research. He further suggested that he, Hinshaw, be the center of the endeavor.

I cannot read the scanned copies of the carbons which Uncle Ned used when he responded to letters.

But judging from Hinshaw's followup letter, I gather that Uncle Ned played coy: claiming that he wasn't at all sure that he had all the facts and that they were exact. (Boy, does that sound familiar!)

To his credit Hinshaw coaxed and cajoled Uncle Ned. As you can see their correspondence started in 1944, and Uncle Ned died in 1945.

William Wade Hinshaw worked hard at to get Uncle Ned involved in his massive Quaker records project. In one letter Hinshaw mentioned collaborating with Albert Cook Myers. I wonder he mentioned Myers just to stir up Uncle Ned’s interest because Myers was someone familiar to Uncle Ned: he was a distant relative & fellow birthright Friend. (See here:Albert Cook Myers  )

In the end, I can't tell if Uncle Ned sent Hinshaw data.

Uncle Ned died November 1945, and Hinshaw's letter dated the end of February wasn't answered by Uncle Ned until August. However, I wouldn't be surprised if Uncle Ned took his time gathering, checking and rechecking his data. He seemed to be that kind of man.

Here is page 1 and 2 from Hinshaw's final letter to Uncle Ned, dated Feb 1945:

William Wade Hinshaw to Edwin Tyson page 1 (MBW Coll)

And here is page 2

William Wade Hinshaw to Edwin Tyson, page 2 (MBW Coll)

~Margaret B Walmer Collection and Uncle Ned's Legacy~

Uncle Ned's great niece (Chester's granddaughter) Margaret B (Tilton) Walmer inherited his papers (sorted them, labeled them and scanned them). She also inherited his interest in genealogy. She continued his research, as she lived conveniently close to the locations being researched.

Before she passed away Margaret Walmer published two books completing much of the information that was Hinshaw was searching for.

The two books she published are still available: 

Menallen [Pennsylvania] Minutes, Marriages and Miscellany: Quaker Records, 1780-1890, Margaret B. Walmer (Heritage Books) ISBN: 1556136560

and

100 Years at Warrington: York County, Pennsylvania, Quaker Marriages, Removals, Births and Deaths, Margaret B Walmer (Heritage Books, 1989, 2007)  ISBN: 978-1-55613-269-8

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*Margaret B Walmer Collection - papers and photographs of the Tyson, Hawxhurst, Tilton and affiliated families.  Scanned copies made available to family members.

#23- Uncle Ned Tyson's Christmas Gift to Brother Chester Tyson and Bertha Hawxhurst and Family

Uncle Ned's Christmas Gift to Brother Chester & Family

It's fitting that "Uncle Ned" be the guest blogger for this final post, also the Christmas post. His "post" was written some 70 years ago as a gift for his brother, Chester, and that Tyson family (December 1944). His poem  mentions each child in the family.
I picked up Ned’s poem from the 20th issue of THE FAMILY NEWS (Tyson family news), December 1949 where it was reprinted. 
The Editors wrote it was for: “the family gathering at Crestmont – Christmas 1944. It was Aunt Elizabeth’s idea [Elizabeth Tilton]. She asked Uncle Ned if he would like to do it. He did and read it to us then. We don’t know how long he spent in writing it; a heavy job we’d say. Although he was in poor health, he read the story dramatically, and gave every sign of enjoying what turned out to be his last Christmas with us.” THE FAMILY NEWS December, 1949
To clarify/remind you of a couple things:
1 Ned married Mary Hawxhurst, brother Chester married Mary’s sister Bertha. 
2 Ned was 13 years older than brother Chester; Mary was 19 years older than sister Bertha. (Mary had already passed away when Ned wrote this).
3 At the start of the poem the little girl is mentioned is Bertha who views the courtship of sister Mary and Ned at the girls’ Hawxhurst home in Westbury, Long Island, NY.

*                    *                        *                          *
 

You’ve heard the tale of the mountain, who laboring brought forth a mouse
But this tale is totally different, with nothing to show but a louse.
Please don’t be too hard on Elizabeth, but sympathize instead
Intentions were good, and the only fault, over-rating her Uncle Ned.
With this most humble apology, we’ll proceed to enter the gate
Of the Westbury home of the Hawxhursts in the good old Empire State.

In the year eighteen hundred and eighty-five
(Why General Grant was still alive)
A gawky youth sat on a parlor “Cheer”
Patiently waiting for his girl to appear.

As he presently glanced toward the parlor door
What should he see but a damsel of four.
With cheeks flaming red, and eyes that were bright
Presenting indeed, a delectable sight.

Forth, with her brother, they came hand in hand
(He as chaperone, doubtless) to finally land
On the very uncomfortable knew of the youth
Who was much embarrassed and flustered, forsooth.

But this dainty damsel was not bothered at all
And it soon became patent this “Queen of the Ball”
Had fully decided, without shadow of doubt
To fully and totally cut sister out.

And when the said sister had finally arrived
Much disgusted was damsel to be thus deprived
Of any chance further to make us of her smiles
And to break down resistance with feminine wiles.

But later, this damsel came down to see Sister.
She chanced to look ‘round before even she’d kissed her
And in plain sight beheld (in fact, it was no other)
No, not the slim youth, but his much younger brother.

One glance was quite sufficient to captivate this brother
And if you do not think so, just take a look at Mother.
And as to that which followed, strictly twixt you and me
The final result was the best that could be.

For through a full lifetime of living together
Thru good times and bad times, thru fair and foul weather
There ne’er was a day, not even a moment
That either withheld the love that’s so potent.

And then when the children commenced to arrive
The house soon became like a busy bee hive.
And it was a real joy for all persons to see
This proud active worker and his prouder Queen Bee.
-------------------------

Proud of their children, proud of their house
Proud of each other, this husband and spouse. 
Proud of their work, and enjoying their play 
A most perfect setting. What more can I say?

But as to the children, there’s much more to be said

And before you get thru with this garrulous Ned

You’ll probably wish he had died in the borning

But cheer up, my friends, it’s a long time till morning.

The first to appear on this peaceable scene

was cute little Donald, the joy of the “Queen.”

The “Pride of her heart”, as is so often said

But little she knew of what lay ahead.

For one day this “cute” little duffer

(Right on Grandma’s best parlor carpet)

Bu no. Drop the curtain, please do

And promptly forgive and forget it.

A little while later this venturesome kid

At the age of four – just see what he did.

He climbed to the top of the windmill of steel

To see how the air of the heavens would feel.

But fortunately then, at the eighty foot height,

His father and mother hove into sight.

He was soon back to earth, without any harm

Then climbed a low stump and broke his left arm.

And so, his adventures, if I really come clean

Continued thru life, ‘til he met up with Irene.

She took him in hand, and straightened him out

And taught him what living was really about.

Soon, along there came Charles, whom they nicknamed Jimmy.

Followed by Kenneth, first cousin to “Ginny”

And competent Florence, beloved Aunt of the boys,

Who adds much to their comfort, as well as their joys.

Jimmy’s a worker, when someone’s around,

Disking the peaches, and plowing the ground.

Helps Uncle Ralph, by driving the tractor.

In this Tyson household, he’s a much valued factor.

Kenny delights in going to school

Between you and me, that chap is no fool.

Having no sister, he does what ma wishes,

From mowing the lawn, to washing the dishes.

A mighty fine pair of dependable kids
If they were put up at auction, I’d certainly bid.
Not only adventures embroidered Don’s lot,
Real work was needed to fire the pot.

Now, Don is helping his old Uncle Sam
To get needy farmers out of a jam.
Buying their phosphate, supplying their lime
Furnishing seeds, and a lot of his time.

But when Don pursues this difficult task,
“What becomes of the Farm”, you may properly ask.
The answer’s- Irene. Your guess was quite near.
She’s cook, nurse, or farmer as need doth appear.

So, good luck to Don, and his helpmate, Irene.
As to the boys, it’s plain to be seen
That besides helping Daddy, they are always most keen
To take mighty good care of “Gram”, the good Queen.
- - - - - - -
The next to leave Heaven to hunt up a job
Was named Robert William, but we soon dubbed him “Bob”.
And the first thing he said when he opened his eyes
Was, “Find me the mud and I’ll market mud pies.”

“Twas the third of July, year 19-0-3
When Bob “putted off” from the Heavenly “Tee”
And from that day to this, he’s been a “Go-getter”
If someone was good, he’d go him one better.

I”ll never forget the day that he found
His old job as foreman had sunk ‘neath the ground.
Did he whimper and cry? Not that you could mention
But stated instead, as his considered intention,

“To start off tomorrow”, to Harrisburg, say
“And grab me a job, that hereafter I may
Have something to do that looks like a job,
No matter what,” said competent Bob.

And grab one he did, before the day’s end
“Not just what I’d like, but I will surely bend
Every effort to please, so when I request
A recommendation, ‘twill be of the best.”

And so, this aforesaid sturdy go-getter
Has gradually risen from good jobs to better.
And if you assay the true cause to ferret,
You’ll quickly discover, it’s unalloyed merit.

And, as everyone knows, through all of this strife,
Bob has been blessed with the most excellent wife.
Thelma’s true as blue steel, and loving and kind,
Keeping him fully, and properly dined.

And “Jerry” Louise, now there’s a fine girl,
Who surely will make her own place in Life’s whirl.
And be like her mother, entirely content
To manage a household, as is Nature’s intent.

But one fact has just come to the writer’s attention
Which perhaps, at this place had had much better mention
All thru the time of his youth, so they say
This Robert persisted in running away.

He’d run away in daytime, he’d run away at night
He’d run away just any  time, much to his mother’s fright.
She whipped him, and she lashed him, and she locked up his attire,
And still this Bob kept running; he never seemed to tire.
- - - - - -
Now, the next boy to arrive was really a girl
At least as time passed, she donned skirts awhirl.
But, as to cosmetics, and other girl lotions
She much preferred boys, and strictly boy notions.

‘Stead of making mud pies, to be fed to a rag
Would ‘round a stick like a doll, she would tag
Along with the boys, to their vast irritation
Sans hat, and sans shoes, and sans invitation.

She’d much rather try to hit a ball with a bat
Than have a new dress, or a ravishing hat
Unmercifully the boys would tease and malign
But she made the home team, the famed Tyson Nine.

What a slim foundation, you’d say, for a wife,
To mend a man’s clothes, and feed him for life
To bear all his children, bring them to perfection
And give to them all, both love and affection.

But, just wait a moment, she was mother’s good helper
With physique like an ox, and a quite even temper
Willing to do, and the wherewith to do it,
A quite different story, as you’ll certainly view it.

Eating the pudding determine its worth
A saying that’s true, all over the earth.
So, just look around, and answer me,
Could any result more commendable be?

She’s got her a husband, as fine as could be,
And three sturdy youngsters, as you plainly see,
And dear Mother Moore, who never is cross.
She has a good job, but a crusty old boss.

One thing I’ve forgotten, forgive me, please do.
I’ll make due amends, before I am through
Her first name’s Elizabeth, after Queen Bess
Middle name Charity, grandsir’s mother, I guess.

She got her last name from Charles Tilton, for life,
When she solemnly promised to be a true wife.
Charles served in the Air Corps, a Captain in rank.
On his being a good one, you surely can bank.

Here’s are very best wishes to this happy pair
And to their three lively children, so sturdy and fair.
There’s bright active Billy, lovely Mardy and Ann
And we wish Mother Moore the best that we can.

'Twas the year nineteen six and the gorgeous month of May
When dainty Margaret Janet deigned to turn her steps this way.
She was, of course, expected and you may be very sure
That proper steps were taken to receive this maiden pure.

She was so very lovable, so charming and so bright
That all our hearts were filled with joy and pure delight.
And when asthma took its toll, and caused so much distress
She had our warmest sympathy throughout her strain and stress.

And when her parents’ fondest hopes were broken like a reed
'Twas Margaret Janet who arrived and helped to fill their need.
For many years it was her task to the youthful mind to teach
The same time building up her own to further outward reach.

One lucky day she met a man, one of important station.
Clarence Keefer was his name, a shark at sanitation.
A hard working chap was he, as befitted his position
With a twinkling eye, and a smiling face, and a flair for erudition.

It quickly developed that these studious minds were not disposed to tarry
And soon the Meeting received a request that they be permitted to marry.
Permission granted, arrangements made, and the knot tied good and tight
But not a single strand used they, but a wholly dependable light.

A chance soon came to travel, at home and over seas
To visit Friendly neighborhoods, and to examine scenes
And copious notes were carefully kept to inform the folks at home
In case they too should later on, kick up their heels and roam.

Many learned treatises flow from their facile pen.
For Margaret, too, helps Clarence now and then.
Here’s to this lovable pair, and here’s to the work they do
May a world of happiness be their lot, and envelope them thru and thru
- - - - - - -
Frederick, middle name Carroll, came to town in Nineteen eight
The month was Feb. the day was nine, when he finally crashed the gate.
Now, what’s to be done with this rollicking kind, who comes bounding in at the door,
After quietly stowing himself away ‘neath grandma’s kitchen floor.

For there was a cistern grim and cold.
‘Twas oft full of water, but please, withhold
Your fears, for he’d chosen a day for his try
When the underground dungeon was partially dry.

He tangled up with so much dirt
From day through following day,
That Mother in desperation said,
“He meets the thing half way.”

As years passed on, concern rose as to where he’d find a mate
So they sent him out, and sternly bade that he travel early and late.
From East to West, from North to South he was compelled to roam
When suddenly lovely Mildred Jost was found near Home Sweet Home.

Then they traveled together from East to West, and from West to East returned
From North to South, and back again, many gallons of gas they burned.
But in their travel on business bent, they’d secretly bemoan
The lack of an heir to gladden their hearts, and brighten their hoped for home.

But one day in Gasport, State of New York, there arose a mighty shout,
And neighbors came from near and far, to learn what t’was all about
And soon they found, as you must have reckoned,
The stork had delivered Frederick Carroll, the Second.

So, here we will leave them with our very best wishes.
She to care for their son, and he to wash dishes.
We are sorry to miss hem in this moment of cheer
And look forward hopefully to Christmas next year.
- - - - - - - - - -
Phil, best pal of Frederick, was the next chap to blow in
First name Edwin; to deny him a better was surely a sin
And to put that name first, must have been done on a bet
Bust much worse placed in 2nd, for t’would then have spelled PET.

Despite this handicap severe, his arrival was just fine
On July 28th, in the year Nineteen  O Nine.
And almost at once with his pal, brother Fred
He joined up with “The Firm” and came forging ahead

Now, there’s a point of ancient history that gladly would I pass
But strict Poetic Justice requires me, Alas!
To here and now remind you of something stark and rash
‘Tis just that little matter of fourteen Meeting sash. 

It seems that Phillip’s Mother, one lovely summer’s morn
Desired that he should fetch her some edible sweet corn
Now such a job fit not at all with Phillip’s daily plan.
But worse than that, he smuggled in his little brother Stan.

To hasten up this tale of woe, and close it with a stroke
Before the day was ended, there were fourteen windows broke.
Now what was done with Stanley and what was done with Phil?
I’ll leave to you the question, “Was there a rumpus on the Hill?”

With such a start, you’d likely guess an end at Leavenworth.
But if you did, far wrong you’d be – I double up with mirth
For Phil is in the Army – and doing mighty fine
And Stan is in the Navy – bucking hard the line.

He spent a time at college. At G.M. Tech, I think.
The while he built car coolers for Lockport’s Harrisons, Inc.
He worked a spell at Gasport, testing sprayer pumps.
Then heeded Horace Greeley, and crossed the Rockies’ humps.

We see that this was not each day, the only vital part
He turned his hand from work to play and studied Kodak art.
And those of us who’ve a chance his photographs to view,
Are most enthusiastic as we scan them thru and thru.

The Army checked his talents and taught him radio.
Then shipped him o’er the water to far off Borneo.
But there’s one thing we’ve never heard. He never wrote a line,
To say if any girl had caused his lonely heart to pine.

Here’s to our Phil, may he soon return, again to his native land
And if he should bring back with him from off he Western sand
As helpmate for a lifetime, a frizzy skirted lass
We’ll tear up all our gardens and plant two pampas grass.
- - - - - - - -
Now following previous mention, Stanley comes in quick
His first name, of course, is Richard, but nobody calls him Dick.
His initial bawl and initial crawl came in Nineteen eleven
On the 22nd day of windy March, he dropped in straight from Heaven.

For nearly a year he couldn’t decide whether he’d better go back
But soon this curly head (first of its kind) took quite a different tack.
From day to day and from week to week, he gradually added pounds
By now he can tackle any one in any number of rounds.

Standing up straight as a ramrod, clad in gleaming white
Yes, he belongs to the Navy, a truly commendable sight.

But I’m getting ahead of my story, truck driving was Stan’s delight
He tinkled the bell on a trolley till bus driving came into sight.
And while the bus still he was driving, right in the prime of life,
He met the girl of his choice, who later became his wife.

All Hail to thee, Irma May Hamilton, now adding the last name of Stan
There’s now a most welcome addition to the growing Tyson clan.
May we soon be most gratefully able to greet thee and Stan together
And, after this heart-rending gap, may you join your hands forever.
- - - - - - - - - -
Now after the namesake of his father, a name most widely sown
All over this State and in others, Chester Tyson’s favorably known.
This boy arrived in September; I’m sure twas the 22nd.
The year was Nineteen hundred and twelve, as time is usually reckoned.

A farmer he’d be. He early showed sign.
A garden he had before he was nine.
He learned how to plow and to hoe and to seed.
To prune and to spray, to harvest and week.

George would say, “June, take wagon and mule
To number eleven with Buzz Rice and tool.”
Flop-eared and droopy, but safe was Kate,
As she hauled men and tools from early till late.

To Penn State he went and an “Ag” became.
He studied and worked and attained some fame
For pruning and trimming and budding and such,
Which helped with the cost of college quite much.

The Baltimore Windsors did not long debate
When Chester J. Junior appeared at the gate.
“Your daughter I’d have, to make me a wife.”
“Then take her,” they said, “and keep her for life.”

Thus Charlotte was found, and luckily-My!
For her kind is rare and hard to come by.
Soon there was added “Bud,” Chester the Third.
And Naomi – Ann, “Nan”, as light as a bird.

To Delaware State in due time he hied
To test what he’d learned about credit. He tried
To make management plans for farmers there.
And help keep bill collectors out of their hair.
- - - - - - -
A genuine blond – 'tis rare in this troop.
(There only were two in the entire group.)
Given name Ralph – for Dean Watts – good friend.
On 10th twenty-seventh to earth did descend.

The year was ’14 and probably night.
He was tiny – quite small – just a wee mite.
Just look at him now, he outgrew it you see.
He’s spare but so tall as I’d want to be.

His youth was well spent at labor and play.
He mowed lawn and sprayed and helped make hay.
He studied at school and at State College, too.
And married a wife before you’d say – boo!

‘Twas Emilie Davis, a slim Quaker lass,
of N.J. and Earlham and Laurel. Yes,
At Laurel she’d spent many summers, I hear.
Fast friends they’d become for the Lakes was so near.

Of Ed. Nicodemus and Mr. Hess, too.
He asked for a job and bought some ground, true.
He managed their orchard and tended his land.
He set his sights high and ambition fanned.
- - - - - - - -
‘Twas A. D. 15 and May 6th at that,
When the Doctor gave signal in Chester’s  flat
A new child was born, a fine laddie too.
A good contribution to that growing crew.

The Tenth child he was and thus he was dubbed,
Sir Dixie Paul Tyson, but quickly we rubbed
The first of it out and called him plain “Dix”
That set him off well from the first and last six.

Handsome greys for summer afternoon, matched by shirts of blue
And when the evening suits appeared, they were of every hue.
Now,  this is Fred? Well, I guess not. Dix for short, to you,
And were his brothers jealous like? Too true, too true, too true.

But when the time had come in course to put this chap to work
T’was found it didn’t do at all; he’d much prefer to shirk.
Now that is not a proper start for any chap in life
But all this fellow needed was a proper steady wife.

And when he finally found her, and a careful survey made
T’was found that he had stumbled on a mine of gold “indade.”
So lovable and charming, so capable and true
Have you any wonder that we are jealous, too?

And now that Dix is married, he is working like an ox
Salting down the lucre ‘neath keys and sturdy locks.
When is thee coming, Audrey Jean, and thy baby, little Rae?
We hope that all can come at least by another Christmas day.
- - - - - - - - - -
Strange it must seem and most strange indeed.
Up to this time no one saw a need
To nineteen nineteen no child had worn
The name of his mother in Westbury born.

A good name it is. So proud he must be.
Alan Hawxhurst, they called him. Thus did he
Fill in the omission so glaringly plain.
And to this generation a brave name retain.

With Norman Eugene as the twelfth, I am done,
And endeth my tale in the year twenty one.
But no, I won’t end it, more must be told
Of trials and triumphs – all I’ll unfold.

Alan and Norma, a penalty paid
For having eight brothers. Their days were made
Chuck full of labor, chores, errands and such
Duties as didn’t appeal to them much.

“Alan, do this. Now, Norman do that.
Run to the house and get me a hat.”
The latter was fatter; the former light.
Their tasks kept them busy from morning to night.

I don’t s’pose it hurt them to work in this way.
They just did their share, in truth I must say.
Of farm work and house work, garden and stand,
At spraying, and pruning and tilling the land.

His schooling once finished, Alan turned his feet
Due east to Doylestown Village, Bucks’ county seat.
There he worked for Burpees testing beans and chard,
Putting his findings on a little card.

Soon he joined the Navy, a mariner forsooth.
A pilot’s helper he. Aerologist, this youth.
Judged the clouds and winds above. Read their spread and height.
Planned the weather for ahead, both for day and night.

A splicerman was Norman, a cable mender he,
A joiner of coaxials for A.T. & T.
The Army took advantage of Norman’s skill and care.
And sent him o’er the water to fix the cables there.

- - -  - - -
With that I cease my ramblings. I’ll end the story there.
I’ll thank our host and hostess who did this meal prepare,
And quote the words of Dickens, in light of dying sun
Whose Tiny Tim was lead to say, “God Bless Us Everyone.”

Ned Tyson & Mary Hawxhurst  1930s

#18 -A Grandson’s Memories, Guest Blogger Billy Recalls Bertha Hawxhurst Tyson

A  Grandson's Memories of Bertha Hawxhurst Tyson

These are memories of my great grandmother Bertha Hawxhurst of Old Westbury,  Long Island who married Chester Tyson of Adams County, PA  as told by my uncle, her grandson. He was a young boy when he went to live in Adams County (my mother is older than he). 

Bertha Hauxhurst as a young woman

Bertha (nearing 70) and Elizabeth at Crestmont c 1950

Thank you, Bill (or Billy) for “guest-blogging” for me:

Guest Blogger Billy & Bertha Hauxhurst Tyson (in her late 60s) behind him

 

A Grandson’s Memories - Guest Blogger Recalls Bertha Hawxhurst Tyson

My maternal grandmother [Bertha Hauxhurst, wife of Chester Tyson] may have raised twelve kids, but she was not known for her nurturing attitude; at least by the time I came along. 

World War 2 Living Situation

Bertha was living in half of (her son’s) my Uncle Don’s quaint house as far back as I can remember, which would probably take us back to World War II. [Bertha's husband Chester Tyson died in 1938, prior to the start of WW 2.]

Uncle Don [Tyson b 1902, eldest child] had a very old place that was half log and half stone.  Bertha lived in the log half. They shared the stairway and the bathroom, which was upstairs, but Gram had her own small kitchen.  Their water came from a spring that was about 200 feet up the road past the barn, and everyone enjoyed the watercress that grew in there.  Unfortunately, this also meant that water pressure was pretty poor in the house, and even worse in the barn.

Transportation

Did she drive a car? I might remember her driving a car, but by the time I really got to know her she no longer did that.  If I recall accurately, she owned the blue Studebaker which was at Don’s house, and it would have been one of their earliest post-war models. The Studebaker was the kind of style we joked about: the sort which you couldn’t tell the front from the back.    

Studebaker c 1950

  

  Staying With "Gram" at Don's

Don Tyson’s farm comprised 80 acres, I was told, and it adjoined Uncle Ralph’s huge fruit farm [Don’s brother & another son, Ralph Tyson, b. 1914] at the top of the hill behind the house.   

Up there along a woods on the property line Bertha would gather wild strawberries for her cereal, and sometimes she walked all the way up to Ralph’s that way.  The alternative route to Ralph’s was the highway on Pennsylvania Route 34, which ran up through Idaville and passed Ralph’s fruit stand right at the Adams County line.  

When my mother’s uncle Ned [Edwin Tyson, brother to her father, Chester Tyson] became visibly ready to die it was decided I should spend some time at Uncle Don’s. In those days my cousin Ken Tyson (b. 1933) was my favorite playmate, and Aunt Irene (Kenyon, Don Tyson’s wife) was a favorite too. 

I was about seven years old. [Edwin Comly Tyson was b 28 Aug 1864, Gettysburg PA. He died 21 Nov 1945. “Ned” married Bertha’s elder sister, Mary W Hawxhurst, prior to Bertha marrying Ned’s brother, Chester Tyson. Guest blogger was seven years old.]

So, I actually stayed with Bertha. Gram [Bertha] had a double bed while cousins Ken and Jim could barely squeeze into their tiny room with its bunk beds. 

It must have been winter as Bertha would send me to bed before she went up, with instructions to heat up the bed.  It was frigid as the heating system did not directly heat any of the bedrooms, and I have never forgotten those miserable long minutes until my own heat started to make the bed bearable.  The window was usually open anyway, held up by a notched apple crate slat, since there were no sash weights to counterbalance it.   

That was OK because you could hear not only the trucks laboring up Route 34 from Idaville, but the crashing stream that fell through a jumble of rocks less than fifty feet from the house. [As mentioned, Ned died at the end of November]

Not Quite Keeping Up With Gram

One day during my stay there Gram [Bertha] decided we would walk up to Uncle Ralph’s, but not over the hill and down to his barn.  Instead, she decided to go up the highway, perhaps to check the mailbox at the end of Don’s long lane. 

It must be a quarter of a mile from the house to the highway, and the last part is up a steep hill.  I got to the highway, but when she started up along the edge of the highway toward Ralph’s, I began falling behind. 

Once in a while she would turn around and shout, “Come on, Billy!” but she never broke her stride, and she got smaller and smaller as the gap between us widened.  

 For some reason that has always stuck with me, Gram [Bertha] knew I could do it and did not have any patience for a laggard, even for a little pre-schooler.  Being on the highway was not a big deal, except for the occasional truck.  Gas rationing ensured that there weren’t many cars on the road.

[Note: in 1945, the year Ned died, Bertha was 64 years old.]

Gram and Chester

One day while she was fixing lunch I asked Gram why she had so many children.  She replied, “I guess Grandpa just liked children.”  It was many years before I figured out what Grandpa really liked.  

Bertha & some Tysons c 1948 (circle around Bertha)

I never met [grandfather, Bertha’s husband] Chester J. Tyson because he died in June of 1938, one month before I was born.  But I was aware of his importance in the community.  

I often explored people’s property in the countryside where we lived, and people inevitably asked me who I was.  I soon learned to say I was CJ Tyson’s grandson, which got me instant recognition and approval nearly everywhere north of Gettysburg.  I was very proud of that.

Chester J Tyson c 1912

  Gram's Cooking (or Not)

Gram [Bertha] was not a very good cook, at least during the time I knew her.  I believe my mother said she was of that opinion also.  When Bertha was a young mother, she always had an American Indian girl from the Indian school at Carlisle Barracks as a maid and cook.  

 And when my mother [who was the eldest daughter] got old enough, she was pressed into service to help with the cooking, cleaning, and raising of all those little brothers. 

Her sister Margaret probably was too young to be much help [Margaret was 2 years younger, and the next in line].   

Gram did bake shoo-fly pie, but I didn’t care for it much.  I don’t know now whether it was just her version, or if I just didn’t care for that kind of pie.

Shoo-Fly Pie, if you don't know what it contains

 

 Gram's Quilts

At that time Bertha had a huge project that went on for many years.  She made quilts on a large wooden quilting frame in her living room.  She made them for all of her children [12] and all of her grandchildren (yes, I still have mine). 

She used to stand for hours over that work, with a thimble and thread, and a little electric lamp that sat on the quilt next to where she was working. 

Later Don got her a television to keep her company, but I think she went right on making quilts.  Most of the designs were cross-stitched through cotton batting.  And that’s all I know about that.

 Gram, the Non-Interfering Mother-in-law

Gram was not one to interfere with [her son] Uncle Don’s family.  Apparently she knew that the mother in law can be a real problem, so she seemed to pretty much keep to her side of the house except when invited to participate in something.   

Their back door was into a small vestibule, with Irene’s kitchen to the left and Gram’s to the left.  I think there was a refrigerator in the vestibule. 

One time a truck load of whiskey overturned on the curve in Gardners, PA.  Uncle Don was an apple buyer for Musselman’s and happened to be in the vicinity, so he went over to see if he could help.   

State troopers were smashing bottles from the cases that had burst open, and gallons of whiskey were flowing down the ditches. 

Uncle Don did what any civic-minded citizen would do in those circumstances and removed a few bottles for safe-keeping so that the troopers would not have as many to smash. 

Gram made the comment to Irene that she thought there might be some liquor in the house, but that it was none of her business.

 Gram Enjoys Traveling & Chris-Craft Spotting

In 1949 my mother bought a new car to replace the tiring 1938 Buick we had driven since her accident in the winter of 1943.  It was a brown Plymouth station wagon (Suburban). One of the reasons she wanted it was to have a reliable car to drive to my sister Ann’s graduation from Rhode Island School of Design, in Providence, RI. 

Naturally we took Gram along, but not my sister Mardy [Margaret].  I’m not sure why; I don’t think she was yet married. She was still at Penn State.  Gram was a good traveling buddy. 

At the time I was engaged in counting every new fish-tail Cadillac on the road, they had introduced their new tail fins by then.  

Then when we got to Rhode Island we saw boats everywhere.  My life’s dream was to have us own a Chris-Craft [brand name], a very popular brand of upscale cabin cruisers and inboard runabouts.  

I had their catalog and knew every current model on sight.  From that trip onward,  whenever Gram would see a small boat in my presence she would say, “Look, a Chris-Craft!”  She was a good spotter, and this was fun when we four went out on Cape Cod all the way to Provincetown. 

But, when I was in my twenties it became a little tiring.

Chris-Craft ad 1951

 Gram's Lye Soap

There used to be a funny song about “Grandma’s Lye Soap.”  It was no joke to us. 

About once a year, probably after someone had butchered a hog, Gram [Bertha] would come spend an afternoon making soap.  She used a full lard can, but that’s the only ingredient I remember.  There must have been some pumice in it, too, and of course the lye.  

She did all the heating and stirring out on our back porch, behind the kitchen, and when she was done there were big pans of white soap sitting around to harden.  The type of vessel I remember was the kind of white porcelain pan you used to wash babies in (I guess you could wash dishes in them, too, but we didn’t.) 

After a few days someone took a large kitchen knife and cut that hardened soap into cubes of three to four inches on a side, and we used those for hand soap and bathing.  It worked really well, and just smelled of soap—no perfume in it.  According to the song, lyesoap was really harsh, but I don’t recall that it was. 

[Billy, I found the lyrics to Grandma's Lye Soap:

GRANDMA'S LYE SOAP

Do you remember Grandma’s Lye Soap,
Good for everything in the home,
And the secret was in the scrubbing,
It wouldn’t suds, and wouldn’t foam,
Chorus:
Oh, let us sing right out, sing out!
For Grandma’s Lye Soap,
Sing it out, all over the place!
For pots and pans, and dirty dishes,
And for your hands,
And for your face!
v.2
Little Therman, and Brother Herman,
Had an aversion to washing their ears

Grandma scrubbed them with her lye soap,
And they haven’t heard a word in years!
Chorus
v.3
Mrs. O’Malley, out in the valley,
Suffered from ulcers, I understand,
She swallowed a cake of Grandma’s Lye Soap,
Has the cleanest ulcers in the land!
Chorus

Gram, Later On

My only memorable encounter with Gram [Bertha] when I was in senior high school was when I was sent to Harrisburg, PA to pick her up at the train station, which at that time was the Pennsylvania Railroad--the same station where they were known to have held up passenger trains so that her husband, CJ Tyson, could get aboard.  (As told to me by my mother).  

I took my girlfriend along and we did meet Gram in the station. My recollection was that she was somewhat grumpy and did not seem overly impressed by my companion.  There was something about who would ride in the front seat and who would ride in back, but at this point I can’t remember how that worked out. 

Then I went off to college and didn’t see Gram until the summer before my final quarter before I graduated.  

Then in 1960, my parents had returned from being in Italy and were then stationed in Wichita Falls, Texas, at Sheppard Air Force Base.   

And Gram [Bertha] had gone to live with them, something my mother had sought for a long time. 

I had a summer job as a laborer for a plumbing contractor who was laying new sewer and water pipe in various new communities there in Texas.  I would come home from work pretty beat from the sun and the work, but Gram was always there to liven things up.  

My father bought their first TV that summer, so they could watch the political conventions, which used to be very interesting. 

Gram and I enjoyed discussions about most anything, but she mostly talked about the distant past. [In the 1950s Presidential Conventions were first televised for both parties, but it was not till 1960 that the Presidential Conventions were widely viewed. In 1960, Bertha was 79 years old].

Gram's Final Years

I suppose she was in the early stages of dementia, which in those days was known as “hardening of the arteries.”   

Recent events were much harder for her to recall, of course.  During that period Gram read every issue of the Gettysburg Times, and I think she read every word, including the ads.  But, of course she started with the obituaries, and would regale my mother with accounts of who had died and what she remembered about them.  Unfortunately, she liked to read out every item that interested her, but my mother tolerated it pretty well.

The last time I saw Gram [Bertha] was at Sheppard-Pratt Nursing Home in Baltimore, and she was to the point that the high point of her day was tossing bean bags with fellow residents.  

Unfortunately, the day we visited she recognized me right away.  This was nice for me, but hard for my mother to take because Gram did not seem to know who she was that day.  But we all knew that is the nature of dementia.

Gram [Bertha] was very proud of her Hawxhurst/Hicks heritage, and often mentioned her childhood.  She also often mentioned Aunt Mary [Hauxhurst], Uncle Ned’s wife, who was her sister.   

I think her loss was quite a blow to Gram, but by the time I met Uncle Ned, Aunt Mary was long gone. The house did have memories of her, including old appliances and devices, like an ice box and clothes mangle, that had been hers.

[Mary Willis Hawxhurst  was b. 1862 in Old Westbury. and died in 1941, only 3 years before her husband died. The guest blogger was only 3 years old when Mary died.]

Ned Tyson (husband's brother) & his wife, Mary (also Bertha's sister)