My oldest grandtwins, Logan and Lindsey, are at the age (10) where they are curious about family stories and family pictures on the walls. We were talking about some of the pictures the other day in the car when Lindsey told me that she did a family history project this year in school. The ancestor she chose to profile was Robert the Bruce of Scotland. Thanks to the Mormons, we have Grandpa John Miller's (father of Alberta Wyant) family tree traced back to Robert the Bruce. Lindsey said no one in her class believed that Robert the Bruce was her ancestor and one classmate taunted her by saying "well I'm related to him too." The truth is, he might well be because when you trace family lineage back that far, the gene pool was fairly closed on the British Isles. Cousins married cousins and we are able to trace lineage because landowners kept meticulous records for inheritance purposes. I guess the question as to the validity of Robert the Bruce as one of our ancestors comes down to one question: do you trust the Mormons and their documents?
Regardless, it's fun for a child to think they have descended from royalty, but Robert the Bruce was a bit of a scoundrel! Have you seen "Braveheart?" Not exactly a shining moment for our family if indeed our DNA goes back to dear Robert! And if he looked anything like the actor who depicted him, I hope more attractive genes won out along the way! In any event, I decided to steer Lindsey toward some more recent family stories that I knew she could be very proud of. Of course, Grandpa William Wyant came up. Aren't all kids in our family fascinated by the story of a silver dollar in the head of a Civil War veteran? Our conversation culminated with a question that I'd never heard anyone ask before, "Did Grandpa's hair grow back over the place where the silver dollar was?" Who better to ask than a man who has placed his finger in the "hole" that Johnny Reb made? Lindsey called her Great Papaw, Richard Wyant, and asked her question. By the way, the answer is no!
The joy that came from this little conversation was in seeing my granddaughter fascinated by her great grandfather's storytelling and the wonder she now has for a family ancestor who can make history come alive for her. There's a quote I love by Michael Crichton that says, "If you don't know your family's history, then you don't know anything. You are a leaf that doesn't know it is part of a tree."
So back to our tree. This will be the last of the letters from Margaret Murray Miller. When I first wrote about Margaret's letters, I described opening the package to find five letters and I've published only two. I realized today that I had forgotten that two of the letters are from a relative, but not from Grandmother Miller. So I'll keep those letters and maybe someday, I'll be able to pass them on to someone the way they were passed on to me! As I'm sitting here with the letters, Logan commented, "So that's what old people letters look like!"
Grandma Miller's last letter was written on October 2nd, 1933 - 22 years after the last letter. Of course, a lot has happened in this 22 years. Margaret lost her father, Alexander Murray, on August 15, 1920, at the age of 71. His obituary states that he died at home from cancer of the stomach after a prolonged illness. On a happier note, it also says, ". . . he had been a resident of Ralston Creek for 25 years, and was one of Jefferson County's most substantial and highly respected citizens." I'm sure this statement would have been a source of pride for an immigrant from Scotland.
Four years after Margaret lost her father, her youngest child, Alice Ione Miller, died from diphtheria at the age of five. Diphtheria was called "the strangling angel of children." It began with flu-like symptoms including sore throats and in the worst cases ended with severe swelling of the throat that would ultimately obstruct the airway. In the 1920's, each year more than 200,000 individuals in the United States were infected and 15,000 died.
Alices's obituary was published in the Arvada Enterprise newspaper on April 10, 1924 and reads as follows:
Alice Ione Miller, five year old daughter of Mr. and Mrs. J.P. Miller died at the family home Thursday of last week, following an attack of diphtheria. Both Mrs. Miller and her daughter had contracted the dread disease but it was felt that both were improving as well as they could. Only a few hours before the little girl passed away, she replied to an inquiry of her father as to how she felt with "Better." Funeral services were held in the open air at Crown Hill cemetery Sunday afternoon, Rev. Clinton Reed of the Arvada Presbyterian church conducting the services. The mother and one sister were unable to be present. Pallbearers consisted of her father, a brother and two sisters. Alice Ione Miller was born Sept. 24, 1918 at Boulder, Colo., being 5 years, 6 months, and 9 days old at her death. She is survived by her parents, three sisters, Alberta, Helen, and Ruth, a brother, Irwin, and an aged grandfather who lives in Boulder [This would have been her 78-year-old paternal grandfather, Aaron Pierson Miller, who died 10.24.1932 at the age of 86]. The sympathy of the entire community goes to the sorrowing family.
Can you imagine how Margaret must have felt to be so ill that she couldn't attend the funeral of her child? Alice's siblings were 16 (Irwin), 15 (Alberta), 14 (Helen), and 12 (Ruth) at the time of her death. Irwin and two of the girls were pallbearers along with their father which was evidently more commonplace during this time period.
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| Alice Ione Miller 9.23.1918 - 4.3.1924 In 1934, all of Margaret and John's daughters were married. The youngest, Ruth, was the first to marry in 1925. She married Harold Peterson. Helen married Robert Beghtol three years later in 1928. Both girls were living in Colorado. The oldest daughter, Alberta, married Walbert Wyant in 1927 and had moved to Indiana. Five months before this letter was written, Alberta, Walbert, and their children, Denny (age 5), Richard (age 4), Doyle (age 3) had welcomed a new baby brother, Duane Eugene, into the family. One child was left unmarried, the oldest, Irwin. But that was about to change on November 28 - a little over a month after the letter was written. Margaret's final letter is postmarked Arvada, Colo on Oct 4th, 1933 and reads: Arvada, Colo Oct 2nd 1933 Dear Amelia and Girls, You remember when you were here that Sunday, I mentioned to you that we are making Irwin a Friendship quilt. We have the 25 blocks together now all except your three. You may have all the names of your family divided on the three in the center piece in each own handwriting if you wish. I'm sending you a pattern and a block to go by. Alberta is looking after the making of it back there. We have had it in the making all summer but now it looks like we will have to hurry it a little because Irwin says is is going to be married on December 23rd any way just before Christmas. [Note: our family records show that Irwin and Barbara were married on November 28.] Alberta started the ball to roll early in the summer before Irwin had ever met this girl, Barbara Crane of Colbran, Colo. She is strictly a farm girl - can milk more cows than he ever saw in one herd and is a high school graduate and is now keeping house for four brothers and clerks in a store in Colbran. We are just awful busy just now putting up hay and getting ready to dig beets and I'm canning and I guess you are too. Lovingly, Margaret If the girls being away can't get to this right away, maybe you can piece them and let them write their names in them or maybe they can do it while at their work.  Irwin Pierson Miller as an infant.  |
Early 1960's: Ruth Peterson (left) with Irwin and Barbara, Duane Wyant and (I think) Michelle.
Looks like someones birthday!
A little more about the history of Friendship quilts:
Friendship quilting started in the mid-1800s and they remained popular for many years. They were used to help remember friends and family and they helped people feel connected in a time when communication was difficult and loved ones became separated by miles. Blocks would include names, locations, Bible verses, or notes that were handwritten or embroidered. The gift of a quilt in our family was continued at least until my sister and I were married - we were both given quilts that had been handstitiched by Nelle Sampson. Mine wasn't a friendship quilt, but it was made from left-over fabrics and old cut up dresses that belonged to Nelle, Ruth, and Grandma Wyant. The fabrics are so familiar to me and there's something overwhelming about wrapping up in something that was patiently pieced together by the hands of women who loved you.
If you're interested in learning more about friendship quilts, this looks like an interesting book:
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| My Wedding Quilt |
