Some Moments Weigh Against a Lifetime

It’s one of my favorite quotes, probably because I know it to be true. Pamela Tudsbury, troubled daughter of a media star, says that to Victor Henry in Herman Wouk’s wonderful novel The Winds of War. She’s in love with Victor, though he’s a married man and twenty years older than her. She tells him of her love, and offers to settle on being his mistress. He refuses. But she is undaunted, and bides her time.

They are in London, during the Blitz, when Pamela declares herself. She is in the British military at that time, and almost goes AWOL just to be with Henry while he’s there on special assignment. Finally, over the phone, he tells her she has a job to do and go do it. She agrees. They chat for a few minutes about their couple of weeks of casually being together. Finally Pamela says, “Some moments weight against a lifetime, don’t they?” That may be an approximate quote, as I’m writing this at work and don’t have the book with me.

Yes, some moments weight against a lifetime. The deaths of my parents, marriage, birth of children. The major news events I’ve lived through. Other special events, good or bad. The day I met my Lord and Savior. One such day was September 1, 2014. Not because that was the 75th anniversary of the start of World War 2, but because it was the day it was confirmed that I have a previously unknown half-sister.

Yes, you read that right. This has been brewing in my life since August 11. I’m not going to go into full details here, but as a result of DNA testing that some New York cousins had done a few years ago, and that this half-sister had done more recently, this has all come about.

It turns out my mother had her in 1945, four plus years before she and my dad were married, about five years before my other sister was born. Mom was unwed and pregnant. She had moved back to Providence RI from Boston MA and probably found out there, but went to Worcester MA to have the baby. The information on the birth certificate matched my mother’s info, except for a bogus last name—but it was a last name of her step-grandfather and grandmother. I was contacted about this by the cousin (who I already knew), and then my half-sister and I talked. I agreed to DNA tests. The results of those tests came back on September 1, confirming that we are half-siblings.

Her name is Deborah Burnham Harris (Burnham being her adopted name). She has two children, four (almost five) grandchildren. But except for those, her only close family was two adopted brothers, neither of whom had children, from whom she’s somewhat drifted away in her adult years. Now, she’s part of a larger sibling group, her children are part of a first cousin group, and her grandchildren are part of a second cousin group.

We have made plans to meet soon, sooner than we might have expected at first. The photo shows my mother on the left and Deb on the right, at a similar age. I see a strong resemblance, as do most people I’ve shown it to, though others have told me they don’t see it. Judge for yourself.

So yes, Pamela, I agree. Some moment do weigh against a lifetime. I've experienced another one.

Biography in the future

I ran across something the other day in Thomas Carlyle's writings that I found inspiring.

Rich as we are in biography, a well-written life is almost as rare as a well-spent one; and there are certainly many more men whose history deserves to be recorded than persons willing and able to furnish the record.

Carlyle wrote this near the beginning of his "Jean Paul Friedrich Richter", a German writer. Published in 1827 in The Edinburgh Review, it was one of Carlyle's earliest essays on other authors that focused on the life rather than on some specific published work.

At least, that's how it seems to me at this stage of my Carlyle reading. I haven't yet read the Richter piece.

I like, though, what Carlyle said about biography. There are many more men whose stories deserve to be told than there are people to write the stories.

I confess to having an interest in writing biography. In fact, I've already written one, that of my wife's great-grandfather, titled Seth Boynton Cheney: Mystery Man of the West. Seth went west as a 49er in the California Gold Rush, then turned up thirty years later in the Texas panhandle, going to southwest Kansas a couple of years later. I wrote this in 2006, shortly before a family mini-reunion, and have updated it four times since as I learned new material or as I improved the text, tables, or pictures and maps. The book is just photocopied on 8 1/2 x 11 paper and put together in a comb binding with card stock covers. I give away or sell the hard copies to people that learn about and want it.

I wouldn't call that a complete biography. I haven't done a lot to work in the events of history and thus elucidate the doings of Seth. I need to say more about the discovery of gold in California, how the news erupted on the East Coast, how the people got to California and what they did there. That story has been told often, but more of it needs to be in Seth's bio. Then there's his years in the redwood area in northern California. And what life was like in the Great American Desert, as the Plains were known then. I have some historical references in the book, but not nearly enough.

But, two other biographies I would like to write. One is of John Cheney, the immigrant ancestor in the line. He came to Massachusetts Bay Colony in 1635, settling in Newberry Massachusetts. He lived a mostly quiet life, acquired property, elected or appointed to some town offices, serving on juries, witnessing wills and deeds of neighbors and friends. He supported neighbors during times of their troubles, putting himself at some risk for them. From genealogical research I have learned much about him. I think his story deserves to be told. He probably has a couple of million descendants in the USA, a good number of whom would be interested to know more about him.

The other bio I'd like to write is a joint one about my dad and mom, Norman and Dorothy Todd. Like John Cheney, they lived a mostly quiet life. They left twelve descendants (thirteen including the one very much alive but not yet born). There are many relatives, in addition to those thirteen, who might be interested in the story; and others, yet to be born, who might someday wonder what it was like in Rhode Island in the 1920s through 1990s and want to know more about this couple.

When will I get these done? They are not on the publishing schedule, or even on the writing schedule. They are not commercial projects (though the John Cheney book might have some commercial potential). So we'll see. Maybe they'll be written and I'll become a real biographer some day.

A Bounty of Photographs

The last three days has brought me just that—a bounty of photographs. Old ones, family ones.

On Monday we received a package in the mail from Lynda's cousin Robyn. She had been in touch with Lynda via Facebook and e-mail, saying she had some Cheney family photos passed down from her mom. Given that I function as the main family historian, she thought we should have it. Also included were some papers: a souvenir marriage certificate for their common grandparents, a deed, and some other things.

One of the photos is a view of the Cheney ranch, south of Fowler, Kansas. It shows men on horseback or on foot, women on horseback, and four children, probably boys, atop a shed; twelve people in all. You can see a number of outbuildings, including a large barn, a stone shed that is still standing, buildings that show in other photos, and I think the homestead house in the background. In the foreground are cattle in a barbwire corral.

I already have a copy of this, but it is only a photocopy of it. And, either on the original or on the first photocopy, someone wrote what each thing was and drew arrows all over the photo! Not smart. This one is clean, the top right of the photo being damaged, but it shows only sky and could probably be restored. Other photos include siblings, uncles, scenes. At least one other photo is one I've never seen before, and I've never had a real one of the ranch scene.

On Tuesday I received a phone call from my nephew, Chris. He was contacted by a man in England. That man had photos of our family (though I don't think he's related) that were in the possession of my grandfather's oldest sibling, Mabel Todd. The photos sent so far are of the two brothers who came to America, and one wife (not my grandmother, though that's supposedly coming. Actually, the one I'm calling a wife of the brother of my grandfather is not identified, but it's by the same photographer who shot the brother, so it makes sense. I don't know if more photos are coming or not, but I think so.

It's amazing what's out there for your family history is you only look. This contact from England was out of the blue. Chris wasn't even researching Todd genealogy at the time, when up pops the e-mail: Hey, I'm in England, I've got pictures of your family; want them? That's called a random act of genealogical kindness.

Now, when I issue the next edition of Seth Boynton Cheney: Mystery Man of the West, I'll have a decent quality photo to include of the ranch scene, not that old one that was barely viewable. And if I ever write a book about the Todds, I'll have a bit more to go on.

Now, someday, I hope to organize everything. I had an antique dresser that's close to full of photos. Some are ones we took back in our constant picture taking days; some are accumulated Todd-Vick-Sexton family. In a couple of binds I have Cheney-Stephens family photos, also needed organization and better preservation. Oh how I need to get to all of that and not leave it to my children when I reach room temperature.

Holiday Withdrawals

That's one good thing about the holidays: They give you a chance to withdraw from life, if only for a brief time, and forget the normal things and think of and do different things.

This Christmas we left home on the 23rd and drove to Meade, Kansas. A little more than 7 hour drive, north to Joplin then across southern Kansas to the beginning of the high plains. The route is beautiful, through quaint little towns like Baxter Springs (on old Route 66), Chepota, Wellington, Medicine Lodge, and Coldwater. The landforms are varied, with the vegetation gradually thinning the farther west you get, along with the houses, and grain elevators becoming the dominant man made feature, other than the asphalt our tires hum on. Ranch land and farmland alternate. The winter wheat looks good this year. We saw lots of evidence of harvested cotton, which is a crop changes from years past.

Once in Meade, our Internet service was rather short lived, due to a computer failure of the wireless Internet service we used. So even brief checks of Facebook and e-mail became impossible. I had to delay my blog post, wasn't able to track my page views and income on Suite101 (which, as it turned out, didn't matter due to massive computer failures there that left the writers unable to access statistics for several days and which still isn't fully rectified). So I just partook in family activities. Ate too much. Played lots of Rummycube. Attended church services. Talked with relatives. Drove past places of my wife's childhood. Visited the museum. Ate even more. Talked even more. Alas, saw no football this last weekend, since neither the cousin or her mom had a sports package with their Direct TV.

Through all of this, I didn't think too much about writing, except when Lynda's brother kept asking me about the next version of my biography of their great-grandfather. We toured his ranch on Monday, first time I've been there in 35 years. We visited with the woman who now owns the spread, and she wanted to buy a copy of the book, Seth Boynton Cheney: Mystery Man of the West. Actually, she wants two (one delivered, and one to be printed). This is my first "book", self-published on company copiers with relatively simple graphics, plastic comb binding, and lots of genealogy tables and information. But it was nice to have someone express some interest in the book. I've given away about 20 copies to relatives, maybe even 30 copies, and before this the only ones to express any interest in it are Lynda's brother, one cousin in California, one cousin in England, and the local museum curator. Everyone else I've given it to has said absolutely nothing. Not one word of feedback.

Of course, that's what I've come to expect from relatives and my writing. Almost no one is interested. One of Lynda's cousins asks, every time I see her, if I'm still writing poetry, but never asks to see any. It seems to be more of a courtesy thing than real interest. And no relative, knowing I write novels, has ever expressed an interest in reading them. That is, until this trip. Two in-laws of that same cousin said they'd like to read Doctor Luke's Assistant. So I'll print and send them the latest version, and see what happens.

Well, I don't want to exaggerate. My cousin Sue read Doctor Luke's Assistant serially as I was writing it. She is a writer too (and a regular reader of this blog, I believe), and she expressed interest. Although, I've never bought a copy of her book and read it. So maybe I shouldn't be too hard on relatives.

But it was nice to leave the pressure of office, writing, stock market, and all things regular for a few days. Here I am now, in Oklahoma City at my daughter and son-in-law's house, where computer access is easy, checking Suite 101 and e-mail and firing off blog posts. I'm still ignoring most of my normal life, though a little football would be nice. We'll head home more likely Saturday. Thus we'll be on our normal Sunday schedule. I'll be back to writing. I'll be able to watch all the football I can stand.

But I'll think fondly of our week away from the routine, and hope for something similar next year.

So Much To Learn

Today I have two major tasks at work: prepare for Planning Commission meeting tonight, and prepare for the brown bag class I'll teach tomorrow noon. The P.C. meeting is easy to prep for: ten copies of two figures and about three pages of text. The figures need some hand coloring, but that's a throwback to childhood and not at all unpleasant.

The brown bag is tougher to prep for, because I want to include a PowerPoint presentation with it. This is my second PowerPoint to prepare. The last one was all text. For this one, I want to include photos and drawings. This increases the degree of difficulty (from about 1.0 to about 3.5, I'd say). Plus, the last one I did was back in March, and I've pretty well forgotten all I learned then. So it's a learning day. When I get frustrated with building the slide show, I just pull out one of the figures to color. I have till 6:00 PM to complete them.

Then there's the whole question of learning photographs for the Internet. I spent some time at Flickr, following a link to their Creative Commons, which is the area that's supposed to have the copyright-free photos. I had a little time with this, then Internet Explorer locked up. So I exited and went back to Flickr, this time the home page. And on that page I could not find a link to the Creative Commons. Am I missing something? I'll get back to that after this post.

I love learning, but this is almost too much today. PowerPoint alone would be fine, or maybe the photo study would be fine, but the two together are somewhat overwhelming.

On the other hand, the pleasant evening I wrote about yesterday came to be almost exactly as I hoped. The genealogy meeting was good. I actually knew the speaker, and met a few new people. Any time you are in a library, even if it's just the meeting room, is a good time. At home I filed and wrote and read and talked on the phone for a long time with my son. I balanced the checkbook, which in two prior sittings had refused to be balanced. I didn't get to my financial record spreadsheets, or paying a couple of bills, but I have tonight for that. Another pleasant evening coming.

A Pleasant Evening Awaits

It's 4:32 PM by the clock on my computer at the office. I returned here a little while ago from Centerton, where I presented my flood study to the mayor and department heads. This was for the purpose of presenting the summary of findings and recommendations, and to help them understand what their options are concerning future conditions in the drainage basin. Tomorrow evening I present it to the Planning Commission (for information purposes only).

I'd like to say that's the end of the project, but, alas, it's only the end of the study phase. I now need to pull together a submission to FEMA. This consists of reworking my report to include only those things FEMA will look at, filling out about 15 pages of FEMA forms, having one more exhibit drawn--the actual changes to the flood map, and getting the City's approval of those. At some point this will involve a public hearing and newspaper ads. The actual flood map revision, which will be the end of the project, is likely 6 to 8 months away.

But, a burden is lifted. I look forward to a pleasant evening tonight. My wife is away (no, that's not what will make it a pleasant evening), having gone this morning to Oklahoma City with her mother to spend a week with daughter, son-in-law, and grandson Ephraim. I'm going to take advantage of the time, however, and attend the regular monthly meeting of the Northwest Arkansas Genealogical Society at the Bentonville library. I've never been to this group. I look forward to the fellowship.

Then, what to do at the house? A quick supper of leftovers won't take much time. I'll probably read in Robertson's harmony of the gospels, then go work on my own. I made some good progress on this yesterday, and would like to finish the appendix I worked on. That would feel pretty good, if I could finish that. The progress I made yesterday would have been greater except, having taken so long away from it, it was difficult to shift my mind from magazine articles (on-line and off-line)and Bible studies to that work. Tonight should be better, with me having not worked on other writing since then, except for this blog.

After that, probably about 11:00 PM, I'll exit the Dungeon for the upper realm and read something lighter, say in an old issue of Writers Digest that I picked up at a thrift store. That will put me in the mood for bed, and I should get six hours of blissful sleep, dreaming about the Bible, genealogy, and writing, with a little successful engineering mixed in. What could be more pleasant to dream about?

The Proofs

We left on our road trip last Wednesday morning, leaving no time for a morning check of e-mail. It was not until we arrived in Chicago on Friday that I checked e-mail and found the proofs of my article for Internet Genealogy.

For those who don't write, I'll explain. With freelance writing you generally don't write the article until you have an assignment. First, after researching a magazine to see if the idea you want to write about seems to work for that mag, you write a query letter and submit it to the mag. If the idea and any specifics you give them seem to fit their themes and publishing schedule, they give you the assignment. For bigger mags this will result in a contract with certain performance requirements from the author. For smaller mags there may not be a contract, only a virtual "handshake". Then you write and submit the article. At this point you have no guarantee that the article will be accepted and used. The mag may have given out more assignments than they can actually publish, knowing some freelancers might miss a deadline. Or they may wind up not liking your writing. So, although you have an assignment, that is not a guarantee of publication.

I submitted the article on May 26, I think it was, almost a week ahead of schedule. And I began a patient wait for the e-mail that said, "Yes, we think your writing is acceptable; and yes, we have the space, so your article is accepted and will be in our xxxx issue." As a first time freelancer, this was a difficult thing. I fear that my article won't measure up. So from May 26 to early June 5 I heard nothing.

Finally the morning of June 5 I opened my e-mail, and there was one received June 3rd from the the copy editor of Internet Genealogy, not saying my article was accepted, but rather conveying the proofs of the article--that is, the article as it will be laid out in the magazine. In other words, it was accepted, and will indeed be in the next issue of the magazine. Sweet!

I don't know when payment will be coming, but I almost don't care. The article was accepted.

Last night I began putting ideas for more articles on paper, planning to query the same magazine and other genealogy magazines with additional ideas. That will be my noon hour tasks today, to continue that process. Maybe I can get one in by tomorrow.

This freelance thing is fun.

4:20 PM, Friday Afternoon

This has been a full and busy day.

Work wise, I completed the base work on the Little Osage Creek Flood Study. That is, I:

- entered new rainfall data into the hydrology model for the 10-, 50-, 100-, and 500-year rainfall events, and re-ran the run-off calculations. Since I hadn't run the 500-year before, I had to make adjustments in the overflow structures of eleven detention ponds. By noon, I had a successful run-off model.
- entered the new run-off values into the hydraulics model and re-ran the flood calculations. This was successful at about 3:50 PM. That doesn't mean I'm quite done with this. I still need to run two phases of ditch improvements and one major future condition, but the hard work is done. Oh, and I still need to write the report, fill out the FEMA forms, and submit it. But with the work today, I consider the hard part done.

I also helped a man in the office with construction site problems.

Personal work wise, I:

- Proofread my article for Internet Genealogy; found a few changes to make; typed the changes; printed the article; proof-read it (in one uninterrupted sitting); found a few more changes to make; typed them; proof-read it and saw it was where I wanted it to be; and e-mailed it to the editor. The article still is not quite finished, because...
- I once again called the professor I wanted to interview for the article, and once again had to leave a message. I've found a work-around in case I can't get a hold of him.
- Mailed my mother-in-law's income taxes. "So late?" you ask. Yes. She doesn't owe anything, they don't owe her anything, she probably doesn't even need to file at her income level, so yes, quite late, but it's done for this year.
- Walked a mile on the noon hour.

I approach the end of a day of great accomplishment that made the whole week worthwhile, and somewhat made up for my inefficiencies of the last two weeks, and the two weeks before vacation. I have only 22 pages to go on my reading book, which I will finish tonight and write my review over the weekend. Next in the reading pile is Team Of Rivals, which I am looking forward to. I'm fairly close to finishing the edits on the John Cheney file that I've been plodding through a little each night for the last week and a half. I'll surely have them done by Sunday afternoon, after which I'll print and file it, file accumulated genealogy papers and clean up my mess in the Dungeon. Hopefully I'll put genealogy behind me for a while and figure out what to write next. Probably it will be one or two appendixes on the Harmony of the Gospels. Possibly it will be a chapter or two of In Front of 50000 Screaming People. I'll also consider working on queries for other articles, or fleshing out proposals for the Bible studies I've been working on recently.

Too many choices; too little time.

The Joys of the Day

This morning, before work, after reading for a few enjoyable minutes in John Wesley's letters, I had some additional time to do some genealogy work. So I went to the digital library of Brigham Young University (which I discovered only yesterday) and did some more experimentation on how to use the site. I searched for John Cheney, Lynda's immigrant ancestor on her paternal line, going back to Newbury Massachusetts in 1636 and in Lawford and Mistley, Essexshire, England before that. The search in the "family history collection" returned 33 hits, which I began going through. Some I recognized. Oh, and I admit to taking some work time on this, not starting my business day right at straight up 8 AM. I shall have to make up some time.

One of the hits was a 100 page (approx.) typed manuscript dealing with Cheney families in England. It turned out it was mainly concerned with John Cheney's English origins. While it did not have the full source citations it needs to have to be fully credible, it's about the best document on the subject I've seen, and worthy of further study. So genealogy was a joy today.

Work was pretty good too. I spent two hours (in two different sessions) with a department head in our office who has a very difficult construction project. I've spent much time with him already on this project, but he had two new issues come up that he wanted to get my input on. Such a discussion is good, and enjoyable. I think we worked out the best possible response for him to make. Then it was off to Centerton to deal with the flood study that has plagued me for so long, and resolving one nagging question on the site topography. I've dreaded getting back on it, but cannot wait any longer. I finished writing a difficult specification today (another joy), and so I have non-distracted time I can put into this project and get it done. That would be a joy. Oh, wait, I have another one for the City I'll have to do when I finish this one. At least it is a much simpler flood study. I did the complicated one first.

I left work more or less on time (I'll make up my time another day) and went to the Bentonville library. Time in a library is always a joy. To be around thousands of books and a hundred different magazines, people studying, librarians working--that's where I love to be. The hour passed all too quickly, but I found a magazine I might be able to pitch an article to.

Church was enjoyable, a Bible study in Daniel chapter 8.

Now here at home, I read twenty pages in the book I'm working on. Less than 60 pages to go, and it has been an enjoyable read. Now I'm in the Dungeon, on the computer. I worked 30 minutes on the current genealogy project, then this.

How much much joy can a day contain? If it weren't for having robbed my employer of some time. That was the only blot on the day. Well, buying some chips too. But all in all, I wish all my days were like this.

Trying to Re-focus

The problem with a vacation is it throws you off your rhythm. When you get back, you have to re-establish your habits, patterns, and practices in all areas of life. At work this week, I've been so un-focused on what I need to get done that, instead of CEI paying me, they should charge me for taking up space. Before vacation, I was having a difficult time concentrating at work. I think my desire to complete my work is higher, so from the aspect of rest and relaxation the vacation was a success. Now I just need to work on focusing on what I need to do.

As far as writing and things I need to do around the house, same thing. I have worked very little on my article, very little on such mundane things as paying the bills, working on my budget planning and recording, or household chores. Hopefully I'll be back to normal on those soon.

The last two nights I managed to get my reading re-focused. The next book in my reading pile was Burnt Sienna, a novel by David Morrell. I had trouble starting it, however, allowing myself to be distracted by the two books of letters I recently purchased (Tolkien and C.S. Lewis). But Tuesday and Wednesday evenings I spend time in Burt Sienna. I'm not 52 pages into this 379 page book. It's an easy read, and is holding my interest well.

However, I have found it easy to focus on genealogy--sort of. I'm working on my Events in the Life of John Cheney, who is my wife's immigrant ancestor to Massachusetts Bay Colony in the 1600s. I have that document quite well along, up to nine pages. My library research in Milford and Fort Wayne turned up some new information about him, however, so I'm adding those events. At the same time, I'm gong through each of over 100 citations and footnotes to correct errors in the way I first entered them. It is quite tedious, with much re-typing needed. My focus hasn't been perfect, however, and I still get much distracted from the task at hand.

All of which leads me to question the effectiveness of vacations for all people. For me, while the rest and relaxation are good, the loss of routine is bad. All in all, I'd rather be in my routines than off resting.

Random Road Trip Thoughts

That's random thoughts from a road trip, not thoughts on a random road trip, by the way. We returned yesterday after 3,700 plus miles, going to Oklahoma City (for grandson Ephraim's first birthday party) by way of Rhode Island (for nephew Chris' wedding). Here are some thoughts as I think of them.

- Arkansas has the most road kill per mile, by far. I say this even though only about 50 miles of the trip were in Arkansas.

- Gas prices are fairly equal from Oklahoma to New England. The lowest I saw was $1.779 per gallon around the Tulsa area. The most $2.099 in Rhode Island. That's only an 18 percent difference. In 1990-91, when we made a couple of similar road trips between North Carolina and Arkansas, the price varied by more than 50 percent.

- Many New England towns are quaint and pleasant to drive through. The area between Worcester MA and Woonsocket RI is filled with towns such as Grafton, Upton, Uxbridge, Milford, and Sutton that have some type of central core (not so much a village green as a downtown, but different than the downtowns in the midwest) that is full of old buildings--churches, government offices, retail, residential--that are pleasant to drive by and observe. At several places I would have loved to have had the time to stop and wander around on foot.

- Rhode Island has the worst roads of any state we drove in. The Interstate highways were fine, but the roads a notch below that, the state highways, left much to be desires, and the city streets were generally awful.

- Pennsylvania may just be the most beautiful state in the nation. I know other states have higher mountains, more magnificent rivers, and mixtures of landscape and climate. But I love to drive I-80 across Pennsylvania. This is the Allegheny mountains much of the way, and pretty good sized hills for the rest. You don't go through any towns or cities until the far eastern end, which we bypassed this time. Many times the road is on high bridges that tower above a river or stream below. Frequently the east-bound and west-bound lanes are on different grades, and you seem to be on a one way road. We took this in daylight both directions, and I enjoyed the 10 hours thoroughly.

- Judging by the truck traffic, the economic depression is not too deep. Except, the traffic is down on weekends and at nights compared to previous road trips I've taken. So while many trucks still transport their cargo on our Interstate highways, they are not pushing as hard as the did previously. Perhaps I'll be proved wrong about being in a depression that will last approximately eight years. But I'm not throwing in the towel on that yet.

- It's good to get off the Interstates some. We did so at Toledo, where we spent a night, and went on state highways to Fort Wayne. Aside from being confused by the place names (in rapid succession we passed through or saw signs for Waterville--also a Vermont town we know--Grand Rapids--Ohio, not Michigan--Texas, Florida, Antwerp, and three or four similar well-known places not expected in northwest Ohio), and besides fighting rain, we enjoyed the brief chance to drive at slower speeds and see a new part of the country up close. Even being slowed down to pass through the towns was not all that bad.

- The genealogy section in the Allen County Public Library in Fort Wayne, Indiana, is all it is cracked up to be. What a fantastic collection! I planned to spend an hour there, doing the small bit of research needed for my article, and wound up spending nearly six hours, as Lynda had some work to do there for renewing her nursing license. Since I hadn't planned for that much time I was not well prepared for it, but hopefully used it well to search for one elusive line of ancestors and find more information on one of my well-studied ones.

This post is long enough already. I'll have more to day in another post or two.

My article in good shape, other writing no so much

I received the assignment to write the article for Internet Genealogy last Friday, April 17. In my query letter I included an outline of what I thought would be in the article, so I had a pretty good place from which to start.

I started the next night, but then didn't work on it until Tuesday. My thoughts gelled a bit more yesterday, and the words began to flow. By the end of yesterday evening I was up to about 600 words, out of 1500 to 2000 for the article. I don't think I'll have any problem filling the words, as I still have much more to write. Cutting some words will be more likely.

However, I have not made a lot of progress on anything else. Last night our pastor came up to me before church and said he was enjoying my Harmony of the gospels, and wanted to know if I had anything more written on the appendixes. The version I gave him had one appendix, the only one written, so he could see the sorts of things I'm planning on doing for them. No, I said, nothing more yet; been working on other things. He seemed disappointed, and said he is anxious to see what I'm going to do with them. So I guess I need to get back to work on that.

Yesterday I submitted my short story, "Mom's Letter," to three magazines via snail mail. I hope to submit to three or four more today. All of these accept simultaneous submissions. So that item is done on this month's to do list.

I have finished teaching Life On A Yo Yo in life group (my co-teacher will teach the last lesson this Sunday while I am gone), and it's time to take my notes and write them up in a somewhat presentable fashion. This could then become a potential Bible study I could market and write.

Any real writing on my latest Bible study, "Good King, Bad King", will have to wait for a couple of weeks at least.

On books, I've done nothing of late, except dream. I outlined the next seven chapters of In Front of Fifty Thousand Screaming People, but have not written any more on it. I don't think I will for a while, while working on platform-building activities.

Will that platform building make a difference in being accepted by a royalty paying publisher? Who knows. The experts in the industry say so, and since I am not an expert I will have to rely on them. Time will tell.

R.I.P. Cecil Warren Cheney, age 93

Another of my wife's dad's cousins, Cecil Warren Cheney, age 93, has died. Cecil left this life on January 10, 2009, exactly a month after his cousin Howard Cheney. These were the two men who we got together in Santa Fe, New Mexico, in October 2006, eighty-eight years after their last having been together. I won't repeat the story here; see the link if you are interested.

Cecil had a good life. Twenty-six years old when the USA entered World War 2, and recently graduated from college and married, Cecil went to work in Oak Ridge, Tennessee on the Manhattan Project. That was his service to his country during the war rather than armed combat. He remained in technical professions his entire career, but at some point (I'm not clear where) was also a sports coach of children's or teens' teams. He maintained his love of sports to the end, spending his Saturdays and Sundays in the fall glued to his television, eyes quite close due to poor eyesight, watching any football game that was on. He was preceded in death by his wife, Alwilda, who died in 2003 at age 89, from West Nile Virus. Cecil's years after Alwilda's death were not happy, and I'd like to think the reunion was a bright spot for him.

Cecil's father was William Boynton Cheney. Born and raised in Meade County, Kansas, he spent time in New Mexico as a cowboy, then came back to Meade County after his dad's death to help his mother with their 2,040 acre ranch and start a family. By 1916 the ranch had been sold, William had a wife and three children, and had acquired a ranch of his own in Meade County and perhaps extending into Clark County. Adjacent to Will's place was land owned by a large land and cattle company out of Kansas City. In September 1916, a dispute arose between Will and James West, who worked for that company, over the location of a fence. Only the two of them were there at the time of the dispute (or at least only the two of them knew for sure what happened). Will Cheney came away from that dispute dead, shot in the back. West was arrested but acquitted at trial. The family believes, and I'm sure it's true, that the jury was bought off. Some of them were later seen driving fancy new cars (in 1916, remember).

So Cecil was born during the very late days of the old west, in the old west, and had the family background that confirmed it. His grandfather, Seth Boynton Cheney, was a 49er, raised in Vermont, but left home in 1849 at age 16 and never contacted his family again. He spent almost three decades in California--prospecting, homesteading, logging, ranching--then made his way back to the Texas panhandle and eventually to southwest Kansas, where he married a girl thirty years younger and had his family. It's a very interesting story, and I've written a home-published book about Seth. Cecil was one of sixteen grandchildren of Seth; only one is now left alive.

My family? We're a bunch of recent immigrants in comparison. I have to go back to olde England to find characters and skeletons.