Thursday, September 26, 2013

Can History Repeat Itself? I6

It seems as though it can. Is this a coincidence? Or is it just another great mystery? 

Friday, May 3, 2013

3 Journal Entries

As I grabbed a journal and began to write, I noticed some peculiar handwriting in the back of the journal. This journal in particular was a solid black color decorated with small round silver studs. The journal read:

John Albert Tewsley
B.D 08-22-39
S.S 373-34-3###
B.P Mt Clemens, Michigan
      St. Joseph Hospital

1st place of residence:
Hilagar Ave. Detroit, Mi.

end of page one

First Remembered experience
 04-41 Decarter St, Krammer
Homes. Centerline, Michigan
2 yrs. old.

Found myself about 100 yards from my apt. I stood between
two dogs which were about my
height. I don't know rather
if I was terrified or not. I
was not crying. I faintly
remember being rescued by
two adults.

Can't recall anything at
this time, expect for taunting
Jerry Mackenzie, who was about
six months older. He had a leash
on him and he was tied to a
clothes line. I don't recall
what I did, but would rush away
until he reached the end
of his line.

end of page 2

Summertime 1945
Looked out of the front door
and saw hundreds of people,
mostly women walking around
the in field banging on wash
tubs and wash boards. Later
that evening, a party erupted
in the alley of our apt. The
reason being we had the only
street light overhead on our
street. People were acting odd,
lots of laughter, kissing, beer
drinking, drunkenness. Remember
this incident clearly because
someone slapped my hand after
I picked up a cigarette and
puffed on it.

End of World War II

end of page 3

September 1945

First day of school!

end of last entry

My grandfather, John Albert Tewsley, was a brave man -- a man whom me and many others loved. He died on October 6th of 2006. He had a bright personality that keeps our spirits alive even though he is gone. Finding this journal was a wonder. Knowing that there are records from his life in the 1940's  helps me to remain optimistic about history. My grandfather was a part of history. As is everyone else. My grandfather is a man who is gone now. However, no tears are created when his name is brought up. Just smiles.


Saturday, February 2, 2013

A Steam Engine of a Man

A faithful man is what he was
Through thick and thin and on
That bearded man, he was so noble
He chugged on and on

That man, he was a steam engine
So powerful, wise and brave
He fueled with honesty and moved with pride
To wherever he must go

He moved on to speak great words
That freed people among us
And within it all, that man so noble
Made time for the people he loved

His family was working with him
But never misunderstood
That the man that was their father, her husband
Believed in what he should.

Lincoln Observation: #1

I am going to start posting random facts, pictures, and other interesting things that I find about Abraham Lincoln. I will try to post at least one interesting thing a week. I hope you enjoy the things that I find and post. 
-- Maxine

Thursday, January 10, 2013

Hoover Family History from my perspective

As I was sitting at my great-great uncle Mikes memorial service not understanding much about what the priest was saying. I realized that my family was unique in so many ways. Yes, I do know some of you are related to people like Rosa Parks or Abe Lincoln to name a few. But sometimes, if you look a tri-fold board with a bunch of pictures of your own family that were taped on, you see something different than when you looked the first time.  When my mom and my cousin Alice talked about my wonderful uncle Mike, and how hard he worked to pull together pieces of family history, one by one, long before the internet, I thought-- wow, this man, a man who fought for our country along side four out of nine of his brothers during World War II did all this for my grandma, for my mom, for me and for generations to come. His duties to our country saved the life of thousands. The stories of his faithful time as the captain of the plane "The Lemon" on D-DAY brought tears to my eyes. The stories my mother had told me, my grandpas photo albums, the long lectures from my dad and the smiles from my grandma whenever his name was brought up. Uncle Mike was an outstanding man, a man whose passion brought knowledge to our family. About our past. About our present and possibly our future. Uncle Mike is a hero. If you met him, you would adore him. This man played a role in my life as a history buff. He boosted my enthusiasm. Encouraged me to learn more. Taught me. He was a noble man the day he was born. That nobilty lasted throughout an amazing lifetime. And Uncle Mike, through thick and thin, knew what was best for the Hoover family.