When I think of heirlooms I often think of the small, material things that I've inherited from my family members. I think about the quilt top family tree that I found a few years ago. I think about my cast iron skillet. I think about the old suitcases that belonged to my great-grandparents. I think about my bed that has traveled by wagon, train, and truck for over 100 years and now lives upstairs. Pondering what I wanted to write for this post made me realize that I'm overlooking my favorite heirloom of all: my home. 

This property came into my family's ownership in 1969. My grandparents had first come to San Angelo because of Goodfellow Air Force Base. My grandfather said that when they bought the house in 1969 they paid $10,000 - close to $70,000 with inflation today. My mother was about 13 years old when they moved into the old American Foursquare. 

​The land that the house is on was once part of Bexar county, awarded to German settlers in the 1830s. Over time, the land was divided and subdivided over and over again until it began to resemble what it is today. In looking at the deed history of my property, at one time this lot of land stretched back to the river in town - a huge swathe of property. 

After a massive flood which wiped away the Tom Green County seat (Ben Ficklin), settlement began focusing more heavily on San Angelo itself.

My home was built as part of this focus. Construction on the home was completed by 1910 - it's three bricks thick, and according to my grandfather it was built by a man who owned a brick factory. An old woman told my grandparents after they purchased the home that she remembered attending house parties when she was young - and then the house was in the country. She said that the family would open the big pocket doors downstairs and their guests would roam from room to room. The house itself physically tells its own story. When I was having the central heat and air installed my contractor was worried about cutting through the brick. It became obvious that the kitchen and back porch were added on to the home after it was originally constructed. In looking at Sanborn Maps, one can see the original shape of the home - a servants quarters in back, and the carriage house (servants quarter is gone, a huge Desert Willow is in its place, but the carriage house still stands). 

In the 1940s the home was converted from a single family home to an apartment building because of the housing shortage caused by World War II. There were two units downstairs and two upstairs (which meant that three more kitchens needed to be installed in the home...and the only place for them were former closets). Each unit had one bathroom, two rooms, and one kitchen area. When my grandparents moved into the home the apartment locks were still on the doors (and I haven't removed them because it's part of my home's history), the kitchens were still in closets, and there were random gas lines (which I removed with the central heat and air installation). 

My grandparents said that I first started asking for the home when I was five years old, but my sister started asking for it when she was younger than that. After my grandmother's death, my Grandfather sat down with the three grandchildren (my sister, my cousin, and myself) and announced that he was leaving the house to all three of us. He wanted it to stay in the family. He then began some renovation projects on the property. In October 2015 the home deed was transferred to us. I moved into the home and began cleaning it and working on other restoration projects - and that's where we are today. My cousin, my sister, and I delight in this heirloom: a property where we felt so loved, where we had our best childhood adventures, and the home where our family would frequently gather. I feel blessed that we now have it to preserve for the next generation. 

My mother and I were having a conversation on Valentine's day. I was given the most beautiful flowers this year - and when I was describing them to her she said that my dad gave her an orchid in a bourbon decanter one year. She said the arrangement was so simple, but so pretty. My dad, in an attempt to get ahead of the Valentines Day rush of flowers coming into the office (where my mom's arrangement would be overlooked), sent his gift a day early - on February 13th. My mom said that that day she had received a promotion and she was so excited...and then my dad's flower showed up! She said everyone at the office was amazed - how could he have known about the promotion so soon? His timing was perfect. 

I love that Valentines Day story. Listening to my mother tell me that story was getting a peek into my parent's relationship before children, and seeing the desire that my father had to make sure that my mother felt special during the time of year that nearly everyone likes some kind of acknowledgment of how important they are to someone else.

I think that it was about a year ago that I did a post about some of my favorite names in my family tree. Initially, when I saw this "favorite name" prompt I thought about doing something like that again. The longer that I thought about it, I decided not to do my favorite name, but instead focus on some of my favorite family naming traditions. My family, like most families, has our own series (because my goodness there's always more than one, right?) of naming traditions. I've got three top favorites. When I say "tradition" it carries with it a feeling of legacy, which I'm all about. But I don't want this post to focus so much on legacy as much as I want it to focus on connection and family. 

What I love about doing family history is the sense of connection that I have when I find something new. I so often think that not only have my ancestors given me their DNA - I'm the literal legacy of these people - but sometimes, the need to pass on a little bit of a beloved relative or friend can be seen in how a child is named. Names connect us to the people who came before us. That is very much the case in my family. In doing interviews I think one of my favorite questions is "Who were you named for?" because so often, people ARE named for someone important in either their lives or in the lives of their parents. 

My maternal grandparents had unique middle names. My grandfather carries the names Ivan Dale. His mother had his older brother, Vernon Lyle, in a hospital in Kansas. Another mother at the hospital, per my grandfather, had named her baby Ivan. My great-grandmother liked that name so much she decided if she had another son she'd name him Ivan. [I want to note here that Vernon Lyle is part of his own naming tradition - Vernon after his father and his father's mother - Charles Vernon and Edith Lyle]. 

My grandmother's name was Doris O'Neal. When I asked her where that name came from she said "it's a family name, but that's all I know." In doing the family history, I've found that it actually isn't REALLY a family name. Instead, it seems to be more of a regional naming tradition based on an Alabama Civil War colonel Edward O'Neal, and an acknowledgement of O'Neal's Brigade at the Battle of Gettysburg. 

My grandparents, in keeping with naming traditions of their own, gave two of their children their own middle names: Cynthia Dale and Patrick O'Neal. Here's  the cool thing: my grandparents created their own naming traditions in naming these two children AND my grandmother continued the Alabama naming tradition that she, herself, was a part of. My aunt and uncle are now only connected to their parents through the shared name, but my uncle is also connected to a larger naming movement as a whole - and to a historical figure that meant something important to many people living in Alabama. 

My family is descended from Samuel Wylie (1754-1814). His son, James, named his oldest son after his father. My great-grandfather, Samuel John Wylie, was born in 1860. When my great-grandfather was fifty-three his second son was born. My grandfather, Samuel John Wylie, Jr. was born in 1914. My grandfather was named for his own father and for his great-grandfather. When my grandfather was thirty-four, my father was born, in 1948. Samuel John Wylie, III was named for his father, his grandfather, and his great-great-great grandfather. 

With each Wylie born in my line, the decision to pass on the lineage and the connection to Samuel Wylie (1754-1814) was made with this naming tradition. However, as this tradition evolved, as people continued to name their children for their fathers and their grandfathers, a new legacy and a new tradition developed. Although these three men: senior, junior, and the third are all connected to each other with the same names - each of them also has a connection to the patriarch Samuel Wylie. Each of these names, while connecting to the man that came before them, also carries on the legacy of their Revolutionary War ancestor.

I recorded this story in my journal, and so I will also document it here. My own name has an important story behind it. Really, the story is how I find my "favorite" names. 

When my mother told my father that she was pregnant he told her "It's a girl and we're naming her 'Heather'." My mom said that she spent the next eight months trying to decide what went with the name "Heather." She decided that "Elizabeth" was a good fit. I'm named for three women named that also carry that name. The first is my adopted aunt Elizabeth "Beth" Peterson. The second is a woman my father worked with when he was teaching named Elizabeth "Beth" Bailey. And the third is for my mother's long-time friend Liz. 

When I think about my names I feel not only connected to my Aunt Beth, specifically, through the name that we share - a name that I was given partly for her - but I also think about the love that my father has for me. I was his Heather Elizabeth before I was connected to anyone else. 

When a parent chooses a name for their child it is, perhaps, one of the most important moments. With the name they are, essentially, creating for their child one of the most important components of their identity. It is this name that the child will answer to. It is this name the child will be known by. It is also a connection to their past. I love thinking that some aspect of someone who came before a child continues to live on  - the past connected to the present - not just in the genes of the child, but also in the name.

I love census records. They look so bland at first, to the casual eye. Sure, sure - your ancestor lived in a specific location FOR YEARS and that was updated every decade. They really serve as a snapshot into the daily lives of our ancestors.

The 1900 census shows Ezra living within the Buckley household. It shows William (Mary's father), her mother - her brothers and her sisters. It also shows my great-grandmother, her husband of about two years, and their son Ray. ​This census identifies my great-great uncles as farm laborers (their father, the Farmer) and my great-grandfather as...a machinist? How interesting! Initially, I was excited about this census record because it showed me who was living where - and with whom. However, after looking at occupations, especially Ezra's, I began to wonder how the description of occupation changed from year to year. 

By the 1910 census, more information is provided - indicating that Ezra worked in Machine Shops. By 1920, Ezra is described as a hardware merchant. By 1930, he was a mechanic. By 1940, he was a salesman for the Steel Buckle Factory (ancestry.com simplifies this in a pop-up as "Industry"). I found Ezra's evolving career description to be my favorite "In the Census" items. Ezra has his own exhibit on this site, featuring a transcription of his business activities. My great-grandfather, more than anything - more than salesman, more than a machinist, more than a business owner - was an inventor. His patents can be found on Google. I've got pictures of the cotton bale buckle (and the machine) that he created. 

I had two main take-aways from this blog exercise. The first is that I'm amazed at how one word can be used to describe so much of what we do. That's the same thing for all of us, though, isn't it? We have a job title, but it doesn't REALLY describe in detail what we do. The second is that if Ezra's occupation description changed every ten years - and that's JUST Ezra - what do these census records say about my other family members? Does this, perhaps, indicate an occupational audit is needed, not only for this site but also for my tree itself? I think so.