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Wanda Martin These are my Grand parents from Oregon WandaLena11 at AOL
Jan 29, 2013 · posted to the photo Ernie & Lena Reynolds Golden Anniversary
Wanda Martin This is Lena Belle Cornutt, my Grandmother. WandaLena11at AOL
Jan 29, 2013 · posted to the photo Lena Bell Cornutt's Wedding Day
Wanda Martin These are my Grand parents from Oregon WandaLena11 at AOL
Jan 29, 2013 · posted to the photo Ernie & Lena Reynolds Golden Anniversary
Wanda Martin This was my Great-Great Aunt. Thanks, WandaLena11@aol.com
Mar 16, 2009 · posted to the photo Lizzie Brumm
Wanda Martin This is the family history of the following surnames: Brumm, Bouers, Omen, Merrick, Smith, Boyd, Fox, Wolf, Bear, Creel Emma F. Brumm was born in Neligh, Nebraska on May 7, 1893, the second child of Andrew and Lena Bouer's, both of German descent. Her grandfather had been a ship's captain when he died, leaving her grandmother to raise Emma's mother Lena, who was eight at the time, and two sons ages six and four. When Lena was sixteen, her mother decided to leave Germany for America, the land of opportunities. They settled in Western Nebraska, at a place called Niobrara. There, Lena met Andrew Bouers, a somewhat older man who was later to become Emma's father. The two became friends, and eventually married. The Immigrants most likely looked to Andrew as a protector in the much untamed land they had come to. Andrew had never met his father. Before Andrew had been born, his father joined a wagon train heading for the California Gold Rush, intending to send for his wife after Andrew was born. However, his caravan was attacked and massacred to the last man by Indians. Andrew lived with relatives in Nebraska, who ran a frontier hotel, or boarding house, Andrew's mother would often tell stories to his children. One account of her life impressed young Emma enough that she later wrote a paper in college about it, it goes as follows: "One day some Indians came filing into grandmother's home. Indians never knocked, they just opened the door and walked in. These Indians, at first, did not seem to want anything in particular. They went about fingering various things and finally asked for bread in gutteral voices. My Grandmother was alone at the time and was dreadfully frightened. She knew, however, that Indians admired courage, so she managed in someway to sing and pretend that she was unafraid. When the Indians finished eating, the leader of the band sauntered over to the crib, where the baby, who later became my father(that's Andrew) lay sleeping. My grandmother was afraid that he meant to harm the child and grabbed the knife she had used to cut the bread, and rushed to her baby's side. The old chief chuckled and said, "Heap brave Squaw! No hurt papoose!" and calling the other Indians, he left the house. He returned later, carrying over his arm two beautiful, red woolen blankets, which he presented to my grandmother. These blankets later became my mother's (Lena's) and their appearance to strangers always called for the telling of the story connected with them." Andrew Bouers, was the last male of his family. His father had no brothers, and because Andrew had no sons, the family name died out. He did, however, have several children.... all of them girls. Later, Andrew's mother re-married, this time to a man named Jacob Omen, a carpenter and musician. Jacob was yet another family member fo German ancestry. He became the only grandfather Andrew's children ever knew. Jacob came to live with Andrew's family when Andrew's mother died. Later Emma wrote of him in a college paper. I picked the following passage, which I found to be very touching: "I have never known a dearer, kinder man than he was. Although blinded by the falling of a heavy beam upon his head when he was only about thirty-two years old, his blindness seemed only to make him more tender. After my grandmother's death, he came to live with us, and our years of contact with him have served to make us kinder to all blind persons. Grandfather lived with us until he was seventy-six years old. Through all his blind years, his violin was he constant campanion. He loved to playhymns and also improvised beautiful waltz music. When his fingers became to stiff to handle the strings properly, he seemed to lose all intrest in life, and I remember the day when he laid aside his beloved instrument and prayed Gos soon to take him home. He was deeply religious man." The first thing Emma could recall of her own life, started on a certain September when she was a little over four years of age. Her older sister was starting school then, and Emma, although too young to go to school, cried and pleaded to be allowed to go with her sister to school. Her mother (Lena) finally consented, and off the two went. The school was a rather small one, so the teacher let her stay. By this time, her parents had moved the family away from Neligh, to a small farm in Oakdale, Nebraska. Emma couldn't actually recall having learned anything at the school, or what sort of work she did, but she recalls the big boys putting the girls long braids into inkwells, or snipping off the ends with pocket knives. This happened rather often, due to the fact that all girls wore either long curls or braids at that time. The following year, when she was five, a man teacher came to the school, and even though he held the young Emma in disregard, he allowed her to continue coming to school. One day, Emma grew bored, and subsequently wet thew end of her finger. After doing this, she made a hole in every "o" she found in a large eighth-grade geography book. She later wrote: "Needless to say, I went home in disgrace." Upon the following year, they moved back to Neligh. There, Emma attended grade school but at age eleven, she moved in with a woman named Mrs. Boyd. The surrounding circumstances will be clarified in the following passage(again from a college paper): "One evening, when I was about eleven years old, my father came home from work and startled us all by saying, "Which one of you youngsters wants a job? There were five of us in the family, all girls and up to this time the idea of getting a job had never entered our minds. We had been content to just play around during vacation time, and through the rest of the year school work kept us occupied, as mother always demanded good report cards. It never entered our heads to even think of lying down on the job when it came to our studies. Being the oldest child, when father spoke all eyes were turned toward me, and of course I said "I do!" Father then told us that Mrs. Boyd, a lady for whom he had worked that day, wanted a school girl to stay with her while her husband, who was wagfing a campaign for congressman, was away from home. After some deliberation, it was decided that I should go to the Boyd's, whose home, a big three storied house, seemed almost a palace beside our little six room cottage. Such a scurrying as there was to get me ready! Everybody wanted to do something for me, and it seemed as if I were going to China, or some other equally distant place, instead of only about a mile an a half away. "You can take my new red ribbon" said my sister Mary. "You can take my comb and brush set; they're nicer than yours," said another sister. It seemed that they all wanted to be nice to me, even Josephine, with whom I had quarreled a few minutes before. In the morning my father took me with him when he went to work, and I remember how my heart thumped, until I could hear it, when we walked up the steps and rang the door bell. Mrs. Boyd, a beautiful sweet faced, white haired lady, opened the door, invited us in, and seated us in a sort of reception hall which had comfortable wall seats, a small fancy table, an umbrella and hat rack, and other small articles of furniture. A polished, shiny, winding stair led to the floor above, and I remember the thought entering my mind, "Wouldn't it be fun to slide down the bannister?" However, I sat stiffly on the edge of my chair, after father had told Mrs. Boyd my name, and waited patiently for them to finish their conversation. Father soon left, and I was taken to my room. What a bright cheerful room it was! And how grown up I felt. Just think! A breau which need not be shared with anyone, and a bed which folded up in the daytime, making the room into a sitting room rather than a bedroom. I put away my clothing and other belongings, and when I could no longer invent any reasons for staying in my room, went downstairs. Once outside my own room, the grown up feeling left me, and I felt very much like just a little girl. Mrs. Boyd was in the library stroking a big, black, tomcat, whose name was 'Tommy-lum.' The cat, a friendly sort of fellow, broke the ice, so to speak, for I also loved cats, and it gave us something to talk about. I managed to get through the morning rather well, Mrs. Boud giving me a few small tasks to do. When lunch time came, she prepared the food and arranged the table. I sort of dreaded the thought of eating, for I feared I should make some blunder in table manners. The meal was a simple one, and I would have gotten along nicely had it not been for the olives. I had never eaten any of them. Mrs. Boyd asked me if I would like some olives, and not wishing to appear dumb by saying that I had never eaten any, I replied, 'Yes please.' I seemed to have a premonition that all was not well, and that first bite, I thought I would choke before I got it down, but I managed to eat those two olives someway, although each bite seemed likely to be the last that I should be able to take. Long afterward Mrs, Boyd told me that she knew what a terrible time I was having with those olives. She was having nearly as bad a time trying to keep from laughing at me, and there I sat, feeling secure in the knowledge that she would never know that I hadn't eaten olives before. When I was about twelve years old, a girl who worked for one of Mrs. Boyd's friends made some very nice home-made bread. Mrs. Boyd asked if I should like to try to make some, and of course I said I should, and she obtained the recipe from her friend. The first time, I followed the recipe exactly, and the result was three nice loaves of bread, for which I was duly praised. This sort of went to my head; next time I thought I could make bread without the recipe. I set the yeast before I went to bed, and the next morning, it being all bubbly and light, I proceeded to mix the other ingredients. I did not measure the milk and it seemed to me took a great deal of flour to make it of the right consistency. Finally it was done to my satisfaction, and I put it near the radiator to rise. It rose above my wildest expectations! In a little while it was out over the edge of the pan. What should I do! What could I do? I felt I must get rid of some of the dough before Mrs. Boyd came downstairs. Searching about frantically for a hiding place, I saw an old abandoned out house in the alley. I didn't even know who it belonged to, but pinching off a large piece of the bread dough, I hurriedly carried it out there and flung it inside. I closed the door tightly, and turned to go back to the house. Mrs. Boyd's room was on the other side of the house, but it seemed to me that every window on this side had accusing eyes peering out at me. My peace of mind was shattered for many days by my guilty conscience, and each morning, when I got up, I was almost afraid to look toward that old bulding for fear the bread dough would be pushing it's way out of every crack and crevice. I never went near that building again. I do not know what became of the dough, but needless to say, I never made bread without a recipe until I was in a home of my own. This episode is a classic example of the retort- "Someday we're gonna looka back on this whole thing and laugh." She lived with Mrs. Boyd until the age of seventeen. At this time she had plans to marry her longtime boyfriend Bill Brumm, but her parents would not allow her to marry until age eighteen. So she attended Nebraska Normal School (Now called Nebraska State Teachers College), and recieved her teaching certificate. It had been her life long ambition to become a teacher and now before she married she'd teach for one school year. Emma's first year of teaching was a far cry from the teaching conditions of today. For forty-five dollars a month, she had to keep the schoolhouse in good repair, furnish janitor work, and provide the neccesary fuel. The segment on doing the janitor work is crossed out on her first contract, but she did it none the less. Frequently, she would find that tramps had slept in the schoolhouse when she arrived early in the morning to start the fire. She was afraid of the tramps. Her first class, (in Neligh) consisted of thirty-three children, ranging through all grades. Some of the boys, who only went to school in the winter because of farm chores, were older and bigger than Emma was. During Emma's first year of teaching, she stayed at a boarding house. The people who owned the boarding house were poor, as was the people who stayed at the boarding house. The lunch she took to school everyday consisted of bread and lard, breakfast and dinner was bread with honey. Luckily enough, this only lasted for one school year, for by the time the school year was over she was eighteen, at which point she became Mrs. Bill Brumm. Emma quit teaching when she married and had three girls over a period of four years. Bertha was born in 1912, Marie Thelma was born in 1913, and Clare Lena was born in 1915. Bill was a railroad worker, a section foreman to be exact. His job took the family to various places in the Mid-west. Frequently, on the subject of western growth, if a family member moved west, and found it favorable, he'd write other relatives and encourage them to come west also. Such was the case with the Brumm family. Bill's brother had gone to Goldendale, Washington to work at a mill. He wrote encouraging Bill and his family to come to Goldendale also and come they did. Somewhat later Bill's cousins followed, the descendants of whom live down the road from me. They took the train to Goldendale. On the train, there occurred an amusing incident with Marie Thelma, Emma's second oldest child. Marie had never been well, Emma pampered her and it seemed as though she was always crying. While the Brumms sat in the train, a black porter kindly offered them an Orange. Marie had never seen a Negro before and bawled embarrasingly... it took some time for her to quite down. In Goldendale, they lived in the Orchard Highths area. While Bertha went to school there, Marie tagged along even though she was to young, (sound familiar?) and apparently one day, in an attempt to impress her mother with her "reading" she memorized a page in a book and acted like she was reading, her mother caught her, however, when Marie accidentally held the book upside down. She lost her tag along priviledges. At Orchard Heighths, Bill worked in a sawmill operation, and Emma went about being a housewife and raising children. They lived in Goldendale for three years, and during the last year, Emma taught at the local school. Apparently the school had barley enough pupils to keep it officially open. The local people had had trouble finding a teacher... the former teacher at the school had an aviator boyfriend, and thus let school out when a plane flew overhead. But now Emma was asked to teach and she did, all five of the schools pupils. This may have brought about a few raised eyebrows, for it was rather rare that a teacher was married then because at that time, the teachers were more of an ultimate moral example, with that I might add, a somewhat meager social life. In Eastern Washington, it was too hot to hold picnics outside, so along side the school house was a structure called the Arbor House, a gazebo-like, long structure. Whenever a pinic was held, the men would go into the hills and cut a bunch of tree boughs, the boughs were then laced along the celing, making an indoor garden or forest. After living in Goldendale for three years, the Brumms moved again because of relations, this time to Crosby. They had bought a model "A" Ford, one of the first in the area, and in this the first crossed the Columbia at the Dalles upon a raft-like barge. They visited a grandmother at St. Helens and re-crossed the Columbia, the Brumms then headed for Crosby. They slept in the car at night, this family of five, and during the day they drove the dirt roads heading north. The lights on the car were both kerosene and electric, The kerosene lights were dim enough as it was, and the brightness of the electric lights depended upon how fast the car went. The waters of the Puget Sound greatly impress the Brumms for they had lived in the mid-west and eastern Washington all their lives. They had thought the Columbia was big, but Hood Canal overwhelmed them. The roads were much worse when they came to Port Orchard, "like a cattle trail," with deep holes and ruts. When Bremerton was reached, Bill didn't know exactly how far away Crosby was yet, so the Brumms stayed the night at the Front Street Hotel. Seabeck's mainstay, the great mill, had burned, leaving only some pilings and a large boiler which were still visible when the Brumm family passed through. Bill, once again, worked at a sawmill, and the Brumm family stayed with an Uncle at the Lewis House, which at one time was quite a local show place. They only stayed at the Lewis house for the summer of 1921. When the school year started, they rented the Sisoon house and Emma taught at the local school at Lone Rock. The Sisoon house was actually a summer house, making it very cold for the Brumms to say the least. Emma Brumm wrote a paper for college on her first "encounter" with the Lone Rock school, entitled, "The Old School House". She had written so many papers for college because it was then required that a teacher go every two years to renew their teaching certificate... perhaps they still do. Anyhow, here is the fore-mentioned paper on the Lone Rock school in about 1921: "She left her car at the bend of the road and walked up the trail to the top of the hill. "What a beautiful setting for a schoolhouse, high upon a hill where the air was clear and pure. Below she sees the sparkling, blue waters of Hoods Canal, and beyond towers the peaks of Olympia, the steadfast Constance, the Brothers and many others. Rhododendrons grow in profusiion all about the grounds, and giant firs reach toward the sky, standing like sentinels on guard over something precious. Two or three little squirrels stop their work of scurrying back and forth with food for their winter storhouse to gaze at her out of curious, round, frightened eyes. A blue jay in a near by tree saucily scolds, trying to make up his mind if the intruder is a friend or an enemy. Here is the schoolhouse itself, a small white and green building of one room. See the flowers there by the step, bright marigolds, snowy daisies and blue forget-me-nots. They wave gently in the breeze as if nodding a welcome to all who stop to look at them. She climbs the steps, worn low in the middle by the feet of many happy children. The clerk opens the door and the girl enters. She finds a room about thirty feet long and fifteen feet wide, whose buff and brown walls are gaily decorated with posters and drawings made by the children that went to school here last year. A statue of Lincoln stands in the corner and it seems as if a feeling of peace and serenity pervade the place. Some of the desks are of the old double kind, liberally decorated with initials and various other designs. Some of these were made by boys and girls who are now grey haired men and women. There are the old recitation benches. How much happiness and how many heartaches these four walls must have held! How many romances had their beginnings in this very room. Many books were in orderly rows on shelves and in cupboards and a set of beautifully bound World Books occupied a conspicuous place. "How many children attend the school here?", the girl asked the of the school clerk. "About twenty-five;" replied the man, but sometimes we have nearly thirty. "I believe I shall take the school" replied the young teacher, "I think I shall be very happy here." As she went down the trail the squirrels chattered to one another, "were going to like her. She'll be our friend," and the blue jay flew from the tree to tree telling the news to all the frightened friends who might be listening." Contrary to common belief, the pupils in a one roomed schoolhouse were far from deprived. The system was interesting for learning: The class which was reciting would sit at the front of the room, while the rest of the class sat in the back studying. Undoubtedly, the class sitting at the back picked up a lot from the class that was reciting, whether they did it on purpose or not." At the end of the 1921-1922 school year, the Brumms moved into a house across the mouth of the Big Beef river from the Sasoon home. The house, (which is still standing today) was unfurnished, but it was better than the Sisson place and it was their own. The property was originally part of three homestead segments first bought by James Robert Smith, with a downpayment of $4.51. The Brumms bought the house upon 1/2 acres for $450.00. Across the street, Robert grafted a Hawthorn tree so every spring it still blossoms one half white, and one half pink. At this time, Carolyn R. Merrick was head clerk at the Lone Rock school. The job of head clerk was multifaceted. She kept the teachers in line, and disciplined them whenever a parent complained about their behavior. She signed the vouchers, a sort of paycheck which the teachers were paid then. She also gave the eighth grade exam, which determined wether or not a student passed. A lot more emphasis was put upon the eighth grade graduation then, so this was a fairly important exam, It determined who went on to high school. For some reason, there were quite a few bachelors living in the Lone Rock area then. Living in a cabin off in the woods, were three men coincidentaly named Mr. Fox, Mr. Wolfe, and Mr. Bear... and one interesting bachelor was Mr. H.B. Creel. Mr. Creel stood six foot four inches, and he was somehow involved in politics. Thus he was always practicing speeches. He lived in Echo Valley. Back then, all the trees were cut between Echo Valley and Lone Rock so whenever he practiced a speech, he could be heard bellowing out at Lone Rock. Creel was a lonely man, and he frequently visited the Brumm household. Creel subsequently was aske to stay for dinner quite often, a spectacle the three Brumm girls secretly jeered at, with Creel posessing terrible table manners. H.B. Creel would scrape all of his mashed potatoes together into a small mountain, then dump his peas into that mixing them around. Then he'd open his "big" mouth, showing all of his two teeth and with a knife, shovel a huge mound of food down his gullet, This kept Emma's three daughters on the edge of their chairs all evening. Creel tried to involve himself in the school activities. He owned a peddler's wagon, (the like of which, men selling miracle medicine might use) in which he would take all of the pupils at Lone Rock school to Silverdale for a Spelling Bee, or a ball game. The students would have to walk when they came to Andersin Hill, which was then called Day Hill. After teaching for five years at Lone Rock school (until 1926), Emma taught at a few other places locally. She taught at Chico for a while, and then taught at Paulsbo for three years. During the time she taught at Paulsbo, she stayed at a boarding house, while the rest of her family lived at Lone Rock still. While in Paulsbo, she taught two boys, Howard Kuinslina; who later became the principal at Chico, and his brother Stan, who was to become the principal in Port Orchard. Emma returned to Lone Rock in time for the depression in 1932. At the time, (and in the 1920's) Hood Canal had been an ideal spot for bootleggers. Across the street from the Brumm house, a barn once stood where good liquor smuggled down from Canada was hidden. At night, the bootleggers would load up their boat and drop the cases of liquor underwater at various places along the shoreline. When the tide receded, people would stroll out and pick up their "hooch", not in the least wary of paid-off Prohibition Officers. More than once, the Brumm girls would encounter a case or two of liquor upon the beach and merrily trot home with it. The holidays centered around the school. Every person down to the smallest and shyest participated, and had a part in the Christmas programme. Everybody knew everybody, and everybody was involved. The children involved would do anything, "from just holding up a card that said "Merry Christmas to reciting four lines" as Bertha later put it. One of the enjoyable Christmas activities was the grab-bag. This was there to make sure everybody received a present. Everyone laughed when a bachelor once got a wedding ring. Any local social activities centered on the school. The school bound the people of a community into a more closely knit group than the neghborhoods of today. Emma Brumm was occasionally principal at the Lone Rock school, and after the consolidation of the Seabeck and Lone Rock schools in 1942, she was occasionally head teacher... though all through her life she maintained that a man should be principal. The people of Lone Rock objected to the consolidation of the two schools. That would take the school and the children out of the community. From the consolidation onwards, the local unity would go gradually down hill. Emma taught primarily 5th and 6th grade at Seabeck school until she retired in 1960. In 1968, her husband Bill Brumm died and because she had spells of falling backwards after his death, her oldest daughter moved in with her to keep her company. Emma Brumm died on March 18, 1979. Her daughter still lives in the house at Lone Rock, next to a store, a good fifty feet away.
Mar 10, 2009 · posted to the surname Omen