Grandma’s Trip to New York

Some time ago I received a Xerox copy of a diary, the memoirs of “Mom’s Trip to New York.”  I don’t have any details about the trip.  Based on the content of the diary this was post World War Two.  It contains some interesting information.  I will let you draw your own conclusions, but the personality of Ruth Harmon Brubaker comes through in this diary.  Over time, I hope to provide more and more of the transcripts of  this trip.  And I hope you find it as interesting as I do.

Left home wed. nite at 9:30—Some send off too—it was swell.  Went right to sleep and had a nice restful day.  Will get into Laramie at 4:30—We have swell friends, haven’t we?  & swell family.  Thurs. –8 o’clock: Dad got on the train and its sort of nice to have him—he’s going clear to Omaha.  He managed to get a double berth and we had a nice supper in the diner—we are sure traveling fast—will cross the whole state of Nebr. in the nite.  Get into Omaha at 6 o’clock tomorrow morning. 

Well, here I am on the train for Chicago—this is a swell coach—You can ride anything here abouts on a pass—never had a bit of trouble—I’ll get into Chicago at 11:30 8.  This train really travels--& pretty smooth too.  I’ll eat my lunch and eat a meal in the diner tonight.  I sort of crave coffee—our breakfast cost $1.25 per—our dinner last nite $1.65 per.

We are going thru a town named Missouri Valley that just had a real flood—I see chicken houses & sheds flipped over & great fields of corn about 8 inches high—just drowned—I hope the road bed is o.k.

A Few Quick Words on Name Changes

                       Recently I have had several discussions about name changes taking place as immigrants enter the United States through Ellis Island.  Let’s bottom line this: it didn’t happen.  The Immigration Service maintained a staff of bilingual clerks at Ellis Island in order to accurately record the names of immigrants as they passed through the various check points.  In addition, ship Captains kept a very accurate passenger list or manifest with the names of passengers.

After immigrants entered the country, it is very likely they may have anglicized or simply changed their names.  A case in point here is Sherburne County is the man who decided there were too many Andersons in the area.  He went through the county court and legally changed his name.  Later his son went through the same process because the son was born before the name change and so also had to legally change his last name to fit the new name of his father.

Furthermore, don’t let a different spelling of a last name discourage your family history research.  I don’t know who said it first, the quote has been credited to Mark Twain, or Benjamin Franklin and a host of other men, but it is worth remembering (and forgive the paraphrase):  A man who spells his name only one way is obviously not a gentleman.

In the case of Brubaker, I was recently introduced to an alternate spelling of “Brubacher” in the 1850s.  I guess the family is slowly working itself towards the title of Gentleman.

Dad’s Lunch Box

Dad worked for 40 years for the Union Pacific Railroad.  Each day he would line this lunch box with wax paper, make a sandwich, bag up some potato chips, and a twinkie or a Ding Dong.  On a good day he would make the sandwich of egg salad, or possibly tuna.  On a busy day, when he didn’t have the time to make a sandwich, it was bologna with mustard on white bread.

He would always go to work with his lunch bucket in his hand, wearing blue coveralls, and carry a coat, mittens, and lantern.  The mittens were heavy duty things.  I think one pair probably lasted several years.  He always maintained that with mittens you could move your fingers around and keep them warm.  So he always wore mittens.

That will always be Dad.

This lunch box is the ultimate image of Dad working on the railroad.  When he retired he wanted to drive over it with his truck and flatten it.  I begged him not to do it.  I’m glad he didn’t. 

The Value of Maps

Just recently I was evaluating the value of maps in family history research.  As part of a program, I reflected on a story Dad used to tell:

His grandparents, John H. Brubaker and Ellen Tiernan owned land in western Nebraska.  The farmers and ranchers in the area had decided that they would collectively pay for a school teacher.  A school house was built nearby and all of the children were sent.  The Brubakers had three sons, all very handsome and charismatic.  According to Dad, for three years in a row, the school had to hire a new teacher because each woman that came out to teach would inevitably marry a Brubaker boy.

Until recently, I had never given much credibility to this story.  But, I was able to visit Alliance, Nebraska.  The museum there is really quite nice.  Inside the museum/archives in Alliance I encountered a plat map of the area.  There on the map was my grandfather’s land.  And just south and west of his land was a school house!  Maybe Dad’s story is not such a stretch after all.

Here is a copy of the map.  You can make up your own mind.  Regardless of the veracity of the story, the discovery on this map was exciting.