Roots and Branches: Or Growing up in Maine

By Jane Rozelle

Roots and Branches flows from the early 1800 Hanson and Rozelle families to the joining of Jane to her husband Lloyd and their continued life through the years to 2015 atleast. Their lifes trails took lots of twist and turns, but always they gave the credit to the Lord, for restoration, comfort, and rejoicing. All of their family is discussed as a very big part of their life with thankfulness for each other.

The writer of Roots and Branches hopes that the readers will be reminded of the value on your lives and count your blessings too. Think on your past and the trail that you have traveled maybe jot it down as I have. Oh, how the memories have a way of resurfacing. Try it!!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 13, 2015
• ISBN: 9781503544017

Jane Rozelle

Jane Hanson Rozelle was born in 1931 on a farm in Bradford Maine. She married her brother’s best friend Lloyd and they have celebrated 64 yrs together. they had 3 children, nine grand children and at this time twenty great grandchildren.

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Copyright © 2015 by Jane Rozelle.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2015902447

ISBN:      Hardcover      978-1-5035-4399-7

                Softcover        978-1-5035-4400-0

                eBook             978-1-5035-4401-7

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Scripture quotations marked NKJV are taken from the New King James Version. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Scripture quotations marked NIV are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved. [Biblica]

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Rev. date: 03/26/2015

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CONTENTS

Chapter 1.   Jane’s Beginnings

Chapter 2.   Lloyd’s Beginings

Chapter 3.   Beginning Together

Chapter 4.   Exploring New Fields

Chapter 5.   The Real Reason

Chapter 6.   Back to the Mohawk

Chapter 7.   A Different Direction

Chapter 8.   The Little White Church in the Dale

Chapter 9.   The Missionary

Chapter 10.  My Cradle is Empty

Chapter 11.  A Gifted Wife and Mother

Chapter 12.  Get-A-Ways

Chapter 13.  Special Blessings

Chapter 14.  Olden Days and Olden Ways

Chapter 15.  The Tree and It’s Members More about Roots

Chapter 16.  Who am I Anyway?

DEDICATION

I ’d like to dedicate this book and it’s writings to two special ladies, Mrs. Douglas Auld and Mrs. Arlington Booker, now known to us as Arlene and Priscilla. Their husbands were our Pastor’s at the time of our youth.

Arlene was the one that led me to the Lord and nurtured me or the word used late years is mentored. She was there for me and encouraged me as a Christian in my early years. She saw to it that I was taken to youth retreats to a Bible School out in Rhode Island, helped me to take part in the youth groups and all that truly had a real impact on my future with the Lord.

Priscilla was the one that helped Lloyd get established as a growing Christian and helped his training for the future. Her youth groups were real hands on training in themselves.

What a start for young people to have someone train, be an example, encourage into the right direction and know that they are praying for you.

At this writing they are both still living and how that thrills me. Thanks so much to you both for the way the Lord used you in our lives.

Only eternity will reveal the many others that they encouraged through the years!

RECOGNIZING A FACT!

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After reviewing my book, I realize how much my brother Linwood affected my life. I found myself quoting him, following him around, trusting him, admiring him, appreciating him and truly enjoying him as a friend so much as we had much in common—our music, liking pictures, obeying our folks, loving the Lord and being a part of churches. We both sure did like ice cream!!! I still miss him so much. I must ask myself a question, is it possible that he realized how much he was appreciated by me? Have you got someone that you should let them know how much you appreciate them?

To my husband Lloyd as he tirelessly answered my questions, whether I should say this or that, how do you spell many words, and for suggestions for titles etc. He has been willing to critique the whole manuscript and that is such a help. While I spent much time on the computer he was left alone in the living room, ordinarily I would be with him but he said it was O.K. Thank you pa!

Next, I want to thank my daughter Deanna for reviewing the manuscript for errors too, or to check whether I had my facts right.

Tammy Lynn Dauphinee Jost, my first granddaughter, and her husband Kelly have stepped up and really are helping in the final editing, becoming my agents as they search publishers etc. and she has written my foreword. How I appreciate their counsel and all of their time they are helping me with this project.

My latest help has come from a friend in church, named Annette Moulton. She has been able to teach me a lot about and how to use many of the technical uses of the computer to install my pictures by myself. Also, how to rearrange many spots in the chapters to be better understood. How I appreciate her for the help and certainly for her patience with an eighty year old student.

Ah, my son Dave was able to be home from Georgia, and he got me out of a lot of troubles. What a help he has been. The computer sure scares this old lady so much at times. And his Joy has been here to proof read almost all of it. Thank you so much you two.

Now, a note to my Readers

Would you please, as you read, put yourselves in a thinking mode about your life, roots, travels, family, bad times as well as mountain top experiences. Have a note pad by your side and enter little memories that have surfaced from the past and you too can have information to share with your families and friends. It’s fun and very amazing! Mostly, it is valuable for further generations.

THE TREE MEMBERS

ROOTS

Unique Ancestors to Provided Parents

Hanson and Jones and Rozelle and McAvey

TRUNK

Jane Hanson Rozelle and Lloyd Rozelle

BRANCHES

LIMBS

TWIGS

These four below have been added since book was finished.

FOREWORD

V ery few of us are excited to read a genealogy. When we read our Bibles we struggle to maintain focus through the long lists of names. The thought comes, What purpose can there be in the names? We are too short-sighted.

I would ask that you look beyond the names and see the story written within. For between the first uncomfortable breath of the infant and the last ragged breath of the elder, lies a story to which we can all relate. Hopes, fears, calamites, joys, pain, loss, success… all these are found in each life. They can be found in our lives.

Our own stories hold us within their scope for the lifetime we are given. However, our story does not begin with us; it began with those who came before. The life, the culture, the gifts, the beliefs, the talents and the personalities… all these took root generations before we took our first breath.

Because of this, I am humbled to read in the following pages the story of my self and my children. For without this story, we would not be. We are the branches, and we look back to the roots for the wisdom they offer.

I watch my children play, and I know that they cannot fully appreciate where they have come from. Their reality is today. But I am blessed to have the wisdom of the generations, through their story, to be able to teach my children that their today did not begin today, but… a long time ago.

To read the words of one’s own grandmother, given as a gift to her children, and their children, and their children, is truly a beautiful legacy. May we continue the tradition and give to succeeding generations a story that will inspire them to remain faithful.

Tammy L. Jost (granddaughter)

In the Beginning, God Created the Heaven and the Earth. Genesis 1:1

JANE’S BEGINNINGS

CHAPTER 1

A blizzard! Town meeting day! A baby coming! What a combination! That was the scene at the Arthur Hanson home in Bradford, Maine, March 9, 1931. It also happened that Arthur was the first selectman for the town. Many a call came to the house that day asking him if there was going to be town meeting, and his answer was always the same, No, my wife is sick. This day was the arrival of Jane Doris Hanson to Arthur and Doris Hanson, joining her brothers, John and Linwood. Arthur’s aunt Evie was in attendance, but the regular Dr. refused to come, because of the weather. Home deliveries were the only way, back in those days. So Dad called the new Dr. Carde in the town of Milo and he quickly jumped into his snow mobile, (a model A, that had been fixed up with skies under the front wheels and chains on the back wheels) and headed for Bradford. He was able to maneuver to about two miles from our home where Dad met him with his horse and sleigh. Needless to say, Dr. Carde stayed the family Dr. for many years.

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Jane on Dad’s running board

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My Great Grandparents Henry & Lydia Hanson

All the years of her growing up, Jane with her family lived in the same farm house on Middle Road in Bradford, Me. Dad had purchased the farm in 1919 while earning money in a factory out in Massachusetts following his time in the army during World War I. Dad’s father, Linwood Hanson, died when Dad was two years old and his mother Vilda Scribner Hanson, died when he was six, making him an orphan. This term orphan back then was a bad thing and others were encouraged not to associate with an orphan. His grandfather and grandmother, Henry and Lydia Hanson, (right) took him to raise, but his older brother, Forest, a family that run a hotel in North Bradford, took him in. Their grandfather was a cobbler (his house was down the road from the farm that Dad bought) and they were very poor, as many people were back then.

Entering here was a man by the name of Mr. Meader that seemed to have a good influence on Dad. He might have been a teacher, but I knew that Dad really relied on him thru the years. I have wished that I had asked Dad more about him and his connection with him.

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This building was the original Town House used for many purposes. The first High School was here as is and eventually renovated for an actual High School from where I graduated many years later. The side building housed the horse drawn hearse for the undertaker. Since the High School shut down, the building was again renovated to become the town Fire Dept.

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Sgt Hanson

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Dad, Doddie dog, 2 kittens & his Model T

When Dad finished all the high school books available, he left to go out to his uncle Harry’s house in Walpole, Massachusetts and apparently his brother Forest went too. He found work in the Bird Shingle factory until they went into the Army. I’m really not sure if Forest went to Massachusetts the same time that Dad did or not, but I know that they spent a lot of time together down there. Both he and his brother joined the Army and Dad ended up being a Sgt. by the time he was discharged. Dad drove a troop truck all over the States on the east side of the Mississippi River. Mementoes from that time are on display in the John B. Curtis Library in Bradford, Maine. Any history buffs would recognize that his time in the service covered the flu epidemic of 1918. He never got it, but Forest did and Dad was able to nurse him through it; many there at Camp Devens died at that time. It was a very horrible time for these young men serving our country. If I’m clear in memory, following his discharge, Dad returned to Bird Shingle and finished earning the money for that farm back in Bradford. Setting a GOAL and sticking to it, still works today. With so much against him, I am very thankful and proud of him. Dad returned to Bradford and moved into the farmhouse alone in 1921. His grandparents died while he was away, but he stayed very close to his Aunt Evie throughout her remaining years. He bought a team of horses and a cow or two, chickens and a very nice dog, named Doddie, which gave him the start that he needed. To earn extra money for survival until the farm was a self-supporting income, he worked for Clyde Chase, a local store owner and business man, driving a truck delivering milk and cream into Bangor each day. Clyde stayed a very good friend to Dad and that carried on up to when Lloyd and I were married. Clyde Chase was a very well liked man and a leading citizen.

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Mom with the milk truck

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My folks 50th anniversary

In 1923 Dad took a shine to the local telephone operator and that continued even after she went to work for Mrs. Farrar at the King’s Daughters Home in Bangor. This was a home that boarded single girls who came into the city for a safe and respectable place to live. (Ironically, Lloyd and I have become very good friends with the present house parents, the Kulps.) It certainly seems that Dad’s trips to Bangor were a real opportunity to court the lady. Her name was Doris Jones and eventually, they were married in Hampden, Me. at Dad’s cousin’s home on Oct. 20, 1925, which was where Aunt Evie later in her life lived with her daughter Maude and husband, Ernest Cole.

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They returned to the farm, raised their family and they both lived out their years on that farm, Dad to 86 years and Mom to 91 years. They shared 52 years together. The farm was purchased from a Mrs. Fletcher, which I heard much about through the years. From a small boy, Dad had his heart set on one day owning that farm and that fell into place. While in Massachusetts, it came up for sale, so he quickly made a deal and sent money to his special Aunt Evie to pay in on it for him. Much of the furniture was left in the place, which was a real help for a lonely bachelor and his future wife.

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The Regal

While in Massachusetts, Dad and his brother Forest each bought a Harley Davidson motorcycle and they made several trips back and forth to Bradford, ME for visits to their grand parents and Aunt Evie. No doubt Dad would probably drive up the road from his grandfather’s and dream a little extra, while he was in town. Realize back then travel was on all dirt roads; what dusty trips they must have been. As time changed and opportunity presented itself, he bought his first car, a Cameron. I know that his second car was a Regal and he paid $335.00 for it; I have the receipt. Imagine the excitement one of those noisy monstrosities on the road would cause. I have heard that any owners of these creatures really felt pride in that strange animal. We’ve come a long way baby! Right?

Here I’d like to enter some background on the Hanson lineage to which I have access. To quote from an actual report from a clerk in the town of Wellington, Maine as follows:

This is a brief genealogy of the Hanson family, with a lot of missing links, but here’s all that’s needed. I do have access to much more if anyone wants it.

The name was first known as de Rastrich. It can be traced back to 1251. John de Rastrich, called Hans’s son or Henry’s son, named by Act of Parliament A.D. 1330.

Derivation of the Hanson name.

1. That it means son of Hans, and is of Scandinavian origin.

2. That it is of Germanic origin, being derived from the name, Johannes.

3. That it was created by Act of Parliament in England in 1330 for John de Rastrich.

4. That it was first used by the same John de Rastrich to differentiate him from cousins of the same name, and means Henry’s son, or Hen’s son, later to be corrupted to Hanson.

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Vilda Scribner Hanson

Numbers 3 & 4 apply to the New Hampshire Hansons.

The family originated in North England in the Yorkshire Dales on the Scottish border. (I want to insert here that this is the very area that Lloyd and I spent a week’s vacation with our son and family back in 1994; of course, I didn’t have this information then how I wish I had) The family had been sheep farmers for many years. (And people still are today) The first Hanson was John of Yorkshire, son of Henry de Rastrich. After several generations, Thomas Hanson came from England to Salem, Massachuttes and later to Dover, New Hampshire about 1620. His descendent, Edmund, was the father of Joseph. Joseph moved to Wellington, Maine about 1808 where he married Louisa Furbush of Wellington. There was record of them having two boys. If there were more, there is no record as the town records were destroyed by fire about that time. The sons, Daniel and Henry, born 1831, moved to Bradford, Maine as young men.

Henry married Lydia Cunningham.

They had two sons and two daughters,

Namely; Linwood, Mable, Eva, & Harry

Henry and Lydia died 1913 (I think it was later)

Linwood married Vilda Scribner (twin of Vesta)

They had two boys, Forest and Arthur (my Dad)

Forest was born August 7, 1888 and Arthur Aug 14, 1891

Dad died Jan. 14, 1978 and Forest several years prior to that.

Forrest married Cora Lackey, no children.

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John, Betty & Andy

Arthur married Doris Jones of Bradford, Oct. 20, 1925

They had three children,

John Arthur, born Nov. 24, 1926

Linwood Auril, born Dec, 24, 1927 and

(me) Jane Doris born Mar. 9, 1931.

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Lin, Gin & Ellen Hanson

John finally moved to Texas after trying to live in Maine, Conn. and New Jersey, each place bothered his asthma so bad but, when he crossed the Mississippi River he found he could breath o.k. I might comment here that the cause of my grandfather Hanson’s early death at thirty two years was asthma. John met Betty Lou at the church he attended in Dallas and they were married, July 27, 1951. They had one son named Andrew, Sept.8, 1954. Andrew married Velda several years ago, I’m not sure of the date. John passed away Feb. 17, 1991.

Linwood married Virginia Rozelle, Sept, 22, 1950 and had one daughter, named Ellen, born Sept. 20, 1952. Linwood graduated from NBBI in 1956 and went to be Pastor in West Gardner, Maine, from there they moved to Bryant Pond, Maine where he retired after pastoring there for thirty-five years. Linwood passed away March 17, 2008.

Jane married Lloyd Rozelle June 25, 1949

They had three children, David Lloyd Dec.2, 1950,

Eric Dale, May 5, 1952, Deanna Lynn Dec. 15, 1953

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Eric, Dave, Jane, Deanna & Lloyd

David married Lenore Severy of Livermore, Maine, Aug 18, 1973. They had two sons and one daughter—Lincoln Jan. 25, 1980, Helaine Feb. 3, 1986, Kendrick Jan. 12, 1988 Lenore died Mar. 7, 1999

Eric married Joy Tozer July 20, 1974 from Newcastle, N.B., Canada. They had two sons and one daughter. Alisha Nov. 4, 1975, Shane, Mar.9, 1979 (died as infant) and Chad Dec. 7, 1982. Eric died Aug. 14, 1983.

David married Eric’s widow, Joy, July 9, 1999

Deanna married Steven Dauphinee of Willimantic, Maine, June 24, 1972.

They had two sons and two daughters. Tammy Nov. 7, 1973, Troy April 26, 1976, Heather Feb. 9, 1981 and Eric Oct. 30, 1983.

There was much more in the report, but I think that this is enough. My mother has a lot more detail of the Hansons, also much more of the Jones—Goodhue lineage. My cousin, Steve Jones, also has coverage of the Jones—Goodhue lineage, and his research he did, not knowing about Mom’s. He also has access to the Goodhue book of the Goodhue generations.

We know very little about Dad’s mother except that she was a twin and I always hoped that that would show up somewhere in the family, but not so, thus far. I do know that her twin, Vesta, married a Frost and they had one daughter named Dorothy. Later in life she contacted Dad with another cousin (I don’t know the connection of her to Dad) and I had the privilege of knowing Dorothy fairly well. She was such a nice lady. I soon found out that she too was a Christian and was very musical; of course, that thrilled me. She even knew personally a very favorite hymn writer of mine, Beatrice Bush Bixler. When they learned this of me, they got together and made a tape recording, just for me. How I wish I could have had more time to know her better. Dorothy passed away a few years ago. Her home was Long Island, N.Y. She had a summer home in Cohasset, Massachusetts, right on the edge of Boston Harbor, where we visited her several times. A beautiful spot! More on Dad later.

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Gram Jones with her whole family. Not sure of the year. Names as listed above.

Let’s focus now over to the background of my mother. She was born to Herbert and Georgiana Goodhue Jones in Bradford, Maine. Her name was Doris Jones, the third child in a family of nine, four boys and five girls. Their names were: Harvey, Hazel, Doris (my mom), Kenneth, Nina, Gram, Verda, Donald, Dwight and Noreen, from oldest down to the youngest. Gram Georgie’s lineage, we have found, goes back to some interesting people. We find that Calvin Coolidge’s wife, Grace Goodhue, was related by blood, and we understand that my Uncle Harvey and Aunt Isobel had the opportunity to meet Grace Coolidge in New Hampshire before her death in 1957. Very interesting I’d say. In the published book, called the GOODHUE BOOK, has all of this information, otherwise I wouldn’t have mentioned it. I feel very fortunate to have this book in existence.

Another comment about Gram Jones was that her Dad, Harvey Goodhue, while in the Civil War, had his horse shot out from under him, also destroying his own legs. War is still horrible, but I feel so honored when ever I am near a Veteran. Where would our country be, if it wasn’t for the young men willing to go to protect her freedom?

As I understand, the Goodhue’s first settled around Ipswich, Massachusetts. and they spread out from there. Apparently one line of Goodhue’s went up to Middleton, New Hampshire and then Stephen went to Bangor, Maine, living there from 1820-1850. Stephen for some reason was in Machias and met Hannah, married her, raising their family there. Harvey, their son, went to Caribou and married Liza, settled down there and I know they had four daughters. I’m not sure but I think there was a son also. He made a good living working with leather, making saddles and the like. Their daughter Georgiana went to Bradford to stay with her sister Lin that was married to Rollo Strout over on the South LaGrange Road. There Gram met Herbert Jones, a neighbor and they were married, in Lagrange, Me., March 30, 1903. They settled up on the Jones Road with his parents for several years and eventually they moved to the house across the road from aunt Lin and Rollo. Aunt Lin never had children so she was a great help to Gram with her ever growing family. I remember her and she was so nice, and kept her old house spotless. Oh, those old houses with just rough boards for floors, walls and side boards. In some cases the walls were plaster.

Let’s take a look inside the home of the big Jones family back during the early 1900’s. They didn’t have much money like typical folks, but mom described many fun times that they had. They had lots of fun with their neighbors having taffy pulls, (making candy) sliding parties (as they lived on a long hill with, of course no traffic) enjoying their Edison Victrola with the big thick records and just being together for fun and games. The big kids always looked after the little ones, so the neighborhood became very close friends. The nearby school was up the hill, about three fourths of a mile from their home. One of the exciting things at the school was to watch groups of young men walk by to go to the nearest railroad station, entering the service for WW I. The teacher made it really patriotic, with flags etc. causing great memories.

Here I’d like to insert a copy of a poem that I wrote for my Mother as we had an OLD RIDGE SCHOOL reunion with many of the former students. The school itself had been closed many years ago. I can just remember seeing the building. We gathered at the Methodist Church in Corinth, August 5, 1989, to hear some of the cute stories among the students in bygone years. Needless to say, many students had died prior to this or were too far away to join with us. What a fun time, those present, seem to have. It was my privilege to help my mother organize the gathering. We actually did this reunion two different years.

The OLD RIDGE SCHOOL

Listen my friends and you shall hear,

Of the old Ridge School we all hold dear.

Of course it’s more fun to look back to our school,

Where all the neighbor children learned well the many rules.

We had tough times, and fun times, enjoyed the warm and the cold.

Now we’ll draw some of the memories that the years will unfold.

We had to learn to read and write, to spell and do history too.

To do our "numbers’ minus and plus, divide and multiply them true.

To know our land, from east to west, also the whole world wide.

To show respect for our Countrymen, and in our flag have pride.

No talking back, no acting up, always be in line.

Our teachers tried to have control, never allowed time to whine.

Our school was just a little place, one room for all nine grades.

But we never lacked for learning, I think we had it made.

The seats were all made double, and we could choose our mate.

But mind you—we kept silent, and we must never be late.

The desk was in the corner. where the teacher held command.

With black boards on two walls up front, and chalk for each one’s hand.

The stove was up front center, with a long funnel overhead.

This sure brings back memories, good and bad, it’s said.

Such a nice place the stove was to circle with our lunches.

We also loved to hover near; we gathered by the bunches.

Of course the time when the funnel plugged and nearly smoked us out,

We thought we’d nearly freeze to death, while Phil Danforth cleaned the spout.

Each day started with saluting the flag, the Lord’s Prayer and reading the Bible.

Our classes filled the rest of the day; we were never allowed to be idle.

Special programs for our parents, were always lots of fun,

Especially when Stanley Danforth, Rosie O’Grady sung.

On breaks we played so many games, Fox and Geese, Drop the Handkerchief and such.

But we really preferred, Haley Bailey Over", I liked it very much.

I must not forget the big old rock, way out back in the pasture.

If we had been real good that day, there we could picnic together.

The school included kids from over towards LaGrange,

and south to Arnold’s farm beyond the mill.

Then north to several family homes,

and west to the tannery spill.

Near students had to walk to school, through weather good or bad.

But distance provided a covered wagon, a great convenience to be had.

We had no plows for roads back then, only trails to follow.

And oh, sometimes it was so difficult, wading up from the hollow.

When snow was deep, or rained poured down, it sure did make it rough.

But we went to school just the same; I guess it helped to make us tough.

There were many teachers that I, and others, did recall.

For now, I’ll mention just a few, probably won’t get them all.

Our first was Josie Heath, no doubt she had her problems.

She was so often out of sorts, never seemed to solve them.

There was Mildred Ryder, she sure could make us sting.

Always pretending to be deaf, but never missed a thing.

On the other side of the coin, was jolly Bessie Jordan.

Also, she’s remembered by, wearing a big white apron.

On Arbor Day she turned it around back, and wore a black one on the front.

She always was a very fun lady, we well remember that.

Our Patriotic teacher was dear old Kate Scribner.

And as the boys marched by to war, we too paraded to the corner.

With the flag in front, we marched erect, and stood at stiff attention,

To see the boys aheadin’ out, for the LaGrange railroad station.

Once, two fellows made a chair with arms, to carry sickly Isobel Noyes.

That none would miss the special event, of watching real American boys.

Other teachers we will mention, added to the ones in sight,

Like Mildred Strout, Agnes Merchant, Barbara Byard and Helen Wright.

There’s Ellen Perry, Hazel Strout, also, stylish Doris Wardwell,

Lila Kinney, Viola Joadry, and substitute Iva Kinney, as well.

Lula Southard, last teacher to teach, and she started there.

From there she taught in the corner school, my first teacher to share.

Now as I remember all the families, that too attended there.

I have such special feelings, for the days that we did share.

There were the Banks, the Strouts, the Dewitts and the Noyes.

The Eldens, and the Danforths, the Baileys and the Joneses.

The Kinneys and the Arnolds, the Fosters and the Halls,

The Grants, and the Wades, the Hatches and Harry Takker Too!

No doubt there’s many others, to add to this motley crew.

Oh yes, the Fogg’s which were younger, but at least we’ve named a few.

Now one of the values of a small school, where all the grades are there,

It’s just like one big family, and each one learns to care.

For instance, there seem to be an incident most amusing,

The time that Leon Kinney and Noreen Jones, were shelved up out of vision.

It caused a little laughter, when the teacher entered in,

And said Where’s Leon and Noreen? and all began to grin.

In later years, again mischief maker Leon some naughty deed had done,

The teacher snapped him with a pencil. Don’t do that again!

Then Noreen, to his rescue came, and scolded the teacher fine.

It shows just how we’d stick together, yet, keep each one in line.

Speaking of the little pair, she usually had better rank,

But his mother quickly said to him, Girls are supposed to,—I think.

My final year there was 1918, so very long in the past.

And as you can see, by the tid-bits picked up, our memories seem always to last,

Now from myself, Doris Jones Hanson, the one that started the rolling ball.

I want to thank each one that’s helped, and I’m so happy to see you all.

You see many things came back to our attention.

Let’s hear from you now, with what you want to mention.

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Mom & sisters at reunion            August 5, 1989

Nina, Noreen, Verda, Hazel and Doris (Mom)

The above poem was written by Jane Rozelle, daughter of Doris Jones Hanson, for her mother, for the Reunion of the Old Ridge School. The school was located just north of the South LaGrange road on the hill beyond the Tannery stream.

The information given to me was only typical of the many things that happen at one room schools long ago. Was it all wrong? Certainly not—as the basic needs were implanted in the growth of the learning child—such as reading, writing, math, geography, science, spelling and of course learning to respect others and how to make your own way in life with others. I guess one of the most valuable lessons picked up was self-respect.

Thanks to many a stalwart American raised in this type of environment. I firmly believe that this has helped to make our country what it is today.

Jane Rozelle

There was a lot of effort put into the above occasion, but to see how my mother enjoyed the whole thing, I never regretted any of the effort to organize this; also, because I could see such a bond between all those who came. How they would chat with each other and some of the tales they would remember were so fun to hear.

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Gram Jones

Here I’d like to enter another poem that I wrote especially for my younger cousins that perhaps didn’t know our grandparents quite as well as we who were older. Once most of the Jones brothers and sisters were gone, I endeavored to try to have a reunion of our generation, and we did two different years. Not all could come, but it was fun just the same. Our Mom’s and Dad’s were always getting together and I missed the cousins.

We have cousins in Calif. Idaho, Florida, New Jersey and Maine, and several have already passed away. I can’t always understand families that don’t bother to get together, and I think they often say, We ought to, but don’t.

ODE TO OUR JONES GRANDPARENTS

Grampy and Grammy Jones lived in the day of survival,

With all of their family, not many could rival.

Gram’s house was so spotless, in spite of the crowd.

Each one had their duties, which lessened the load.

Both of their mothers lived with them, what a struggle that made,

For there’s never a house where just two women stayed.

Besides being poor, then another mouth more,

The house was bulging and true closeness was bore.

As Grampy sold fertilizer to care for his family,

Many of his customers didn’t pay up willingly.

When he was not paid, how could he pay for the shipment?

Say nothing of not getting his commission payment!

This really discouraged him, what a terrible blow!

It was such a setback,