Tag Archives: Maude Bartlett

More Places to Find Food and Family Stories

I hope you’re enjoying Ancestors in Aprons, for whatever reason brings you here–family stories, recipes, food stories.  I also want to let you know  some other sources of family stories  that I’ve discovered.  I think you might enjoy these TV shows and a web site.

Learn More About Seeking Family Stories

Family stories

“Genealogy Roadshow” on PBS goes to the source. Credit: Courtesy of David Bean
Producer: Krasnow Productions

Did you see the television show, Who Do You Think You Are?  The TLC cable channel brings the drama of a search for family stories of celebrities.

And on September 23, PBS debuted a new show, Genealogy Road Show. (It may come later in some markets, so check with your local PBS station.)  Modeled on the popular Antiques Road Show, experts travel from city to city and work to solve nagging questions about ancestors and family stories that are brought by people in the audience.

I wrote about these two shows for the website Reel Life With Jane, and you can see the article and get more information here, including links to both shows.

Explore How The Foods We Eat are Influenced by Where We’re From

If you find, as I do, that your ancestors come to life in your kitchen–through handed down recipes, cooking techniques and implements–I’m sure you’ll enjoy a website dedicated to family stories and food facts, American Food Roots.  You can find lots of food for thought (pun intended) on this site, but of course I like the “My American Roots section where people tell an interesting story relating their family and food.

Meanwhile–have you read my family stories about the

Community band Kaser trombone

Trombone of Clifford Kaser

 

Trombone that changed my mind about my paternal grandfather?

 

 

Maude Bartlett's tea service

Aunt Maude’s tea service

 

 

 

About my Great Aunt who entertained a Queen?

William Stout diploma

William C. Stout’s diploma

 

My great grandfather’s questionable education?

 

 

Sarah Anderson Cherry Pudding

Cherries for Cherry Pudding

 

Have you tried our family recipes for cherry pudding,

 

 

 

Making Canned Food--Re Peppers

Grandma’s Red Pepper Jam

 

 

red pepper jam,

 

 

pie crust ventsor perfect pie crust?

Road Trip Adventures With Family Travelers

It’s not enough that my ancestors hang around my kitchen while I cook. They want to go on every road trip with me, too.

I certainly had a lot of travelin’ ancestors. Of course if you live in the United States and you’re not an American Indian, you had some people somewhere in your background who were adventurous enough to leave their native lands. But once they got here, some stayed put. Not mine!

This week I’m on a car trip, and so naturally, I am thinking about the ancestors and relative who took road trips. 

Florida was always a popular destination, and I can do an entire photo essay of ancestors having their pictures taken picking oranges and posing with alligators. But here’s an interesting group. The formidable woman in black is my great grandmother Hattie Stout. George Stout was her brother-in-law, and Maude was her daughter.

Road Trip to Florida

Dr George Stout, Maude Bartlett, Hattie Stout, Mrs George Stout, Carlos Bartlett Circa 1906

In the early days of automobiles, Grandma and Grandpa Vera and  Guy Anderson went on frequent car camping trips, tent camping trips and also stayed in cabins.  Ohio is blessed with many beautiful small lakes and wooded areas.  Grandma and Grandpa were even caretakers for a State Rest Stop between Killbuck and Millersburg for many years.  I remember riding with them up to the stop where they would sweep out the restroom, and pick up litter. Here they are in the Stutz car at a place identified as Rocky Hollow.

Road Trip

Vera Anderson Camping at Rocky Hollow, Ohio with Stutz Car. Late 1920’s

I’m no expert, and would welcome guesses from someone with more expertise, but I think this is a 1927 or 1928 Stutz, which would mean the camping took place late 20s or early 30s.

There’s a Rocky Hollow that is part of the Shawnee Forest and Shawnee State Park in sourthern Ohio, and also a Little Rocky Hollow in beautiful Hocking County that is now a nature preserve.  There are probably a hundred or so other places by that name, so I don’t really know where this road trip camp site was. If you know where they might have camped, please let me know in the comments below. But isn’t the Ohio Shawnee Forest beautiful?

Rpad trip to Shawnee State Park

Shawnee State Forest in Ohio. Photo by Brandon C.

The young men in our family seemed to routinely take off on long trips.  Guy Anderson left home determined to join up in the Spanish-American War, but got there too late.  My father, Paul Kaser, took a road trip to Texas with some of his friends from high school. They ran out of money and had to come home.  My uncle Bill Anderson left a note with his mother and father when they lived in Columbus Ohio and said there was no work, so he was leaving for California.  He was about 19 and at loose ends. My mother was attending Ohio State University. I don’t think he actually went, because he married Aunt Sarah not long after that, but California has been a draw to others in the family that you’ll hear about later. Ah, yes, Jesse Morgan, I’m pointing at you.

The older women were not to be outdone by the young men.  Hattie Stout traveled to New York City to visit with her son William Morgan Stout.  Grandmother Vera  took a bus to California by herself in her late 60s, and rode back to Ohio with her son Herbert Anderson, his wife and family. I was about ten and remember being scandalized that such an OLD woman would go all the way across the country on a bus. My Aunt Blanche Kaser, (Mrs. Keith Kaser) who lived in Millersburg, traveled all over by Greyhound bus, once coming to visit us when we lived in Scottsdale. She was in her early 70s when she was gallavanting by herself.

My mother loved cars and when she was in her nineties, she recited for me the list of every car she had ever owned. One of her treasured trips was a road trip to Chicago for the World’s Fair in 1933 with Aunt Sarah Anderson and my Grandmother Vera.  (Mother and Father did not marry until 1938.)  She said, “I don’t know what we were thinking. We just got in the car and went with no reservations and no idea at all of what we would do when we got there.”

Road Trip to the Smokey Mountains

Vera Marie at one year old with mother, Harriette Kaser in the Smoky Mountains. 1940

I have always loved road trips myself. No wonder. My first road trip took place when I was one year old.  My parents and grandparents and Aunt Maude Bartlett set out for The Great Smoky Mountains in Tennessee.  The National Park was dedicated in the fall of 1940, so they would have been there shortly before Franklin Roosevelt inaugurated the park. (Which is a good thing, because my grandparents wouldn’t have gone near the place if FDR was around.)

Road Trip to the Smokey Mountains

My first road trip. Here being held by my father Paul Kaser. Grandma Vera on right, Great Aunt Maude on the left and my grandfather Anderson in the background. 1940

All the usual tourist attractions drew our family members. Here’s Great Aunt Maude Bartlett at Niagara Falls with her brother Bill Stout, his wife Jean and Maude’s husband Carlos. The picture was taken early in the 20th century. (Love the hats!)  And then a later picture of Maude at Colonial Williamsburg, Virginia.

Road Trip to Niagra Falls Early 20th Century

Jean and Bill M. Stout, Mude and Carlos Bartlett at Niagara Falls

Road trip to Williamsburg.

Maude Bartlett at Colonial Williamsburg. Perhaps same trip as Smoky Mountains.

Grandma Vera loved travel with a great fervor, and whenever anyone had a trip in mind–across the country or to a nearby lake for a picnic, they would ask Vera to go along.

Anderson Family road trip 1950s.

Top: Herb Anderson, Vera Anderson, Herb’s Wife Pat, Herb’s mother Pauline Anderson, Herb’s Daughter Michelle. Bottom- Pauline and Michelle at lake. 1961

My father once said that Vera Anderson was such a traveler that if you said “we’re going…” before you got out the where, she’d say “Let me get my hat.”  He said he suspected that when she died, if someone walked up to her coffin and said, “Vera, we’re going…” she’d get up out of the coffin.

When Ken and I moved to Arizona, my mother and father were sorry to see us leave Ohio, but more than that, they were excited because now they had an excuse to travel west.  Ken and I and our three boys drove many times from Arizona to Ohio, always taking a slightly different route and stopping at different roadside attractions.

Ironically, when Grandma Vera died, Ken and I were on yet another road trip–this one to the 1964 New York World’s Fair. We drove back to Ohio where we learned of her death and stayed for the funeral. I kept wanting to walk up to the coffin and say, “Vera, we’re going….”

The Girl on the Bridge: Hattie Stout, Teacher, Traveler, Suffragette

Harriette (Hattie) E. Morgan Stout (1842-1928)

Married William C. Stout in 1872

Hattie Stout

Harriett Emeline Morgan Stout

And who was that girl on the bridge that captured the newly minted Doctor Stouts attention when he rode into Killbuck for the first time? She was a school teacher who had been raised by a single parent–Mary Morgan. What happened to her father is definitely one of the more interesting of our family stories, so do keep on reading for the next few weeks until we get to Jesse Morgan.

Although I keep calling Hattie “the girl”, she was well past girlhood–in fact probably considered an old maid.  Unfortunately, my mother’s many stories about Hattie Morgan Stout did not include any information about the part of her life between childhood and when she married Dr. Stout at the age of 30. So I’m left wondering if she had loved and lost–perhaps in the Civil War? Or had she been so engrossed in her teaching that she did not have time for courting? Or, more likely, was there no one who came around that met her rigorous intellectual expectations?

Who was this woman of quick intellect who loved to read and travel, worked hard to keep a proper house and yet yearned to try new things? (She smoked a cigarette in the 20s just to see what all the fuss was about. She cut her hair short when others still wore theirs long.) She became a shrewd businesswoman managing farm and urban property.

 Here are some of my mother’s stories about her Grandmother, Hattie. Hattie grew up in Killbuck and went to Keene Academy to study because there was no public high school in Killbuck.  Her mother had attended and taught at Keene.

She worked as a teacher from about 1858 until she was married, teaching spelling, reading (we still have a McGuffey Reader), algebra and Latin among other things, from the time she was as young as 15. (You only had to pass eighth grade to become a teacher.)  As a very young girl and standing about five feet tall, Hattie Morgan had to maintain discipline and teach classes that included hulking farm boys as old as 21. (You can tell how short she was, in this picture taken in her older years.)

Hattie Stout at church picnic

Hattie Stout center, to the right of the woman with arm resting on stomach. Killbuck church picnic. That’s Maude on the far right in black, probably in 1910, the year Carlos died.

Hattie liked to say that none of the boys she taught died in the Civil War. She taught roughly from 1860 to 1871, and when the war started in 1861, thirteen boys went straight from her classes to the army. The school janitor, who never learned to read, was one of the boys that went to war, and my mother and uncles teased their grandmother that he was her “best pupil”. 

Teachers were highly respected in those days, and part of their payment was lodging in the home of a pupil. Hattie probably boarded out with some of the farm families. She taught at Stillwell, somewhere outside Clark, Dowdy Creek, and in Killbuck and in the area of Coshocton. 

After she married Doc Stout, he set up his office in Killbuck in her mother’s house, with their apartment over the office and all three children (William M, Maude and Vera) were born there.

Mary Morgan's house

Mary Morgan’s Killbuck house with Doc Stout office on right. Circa 1880

Two or three years later, they were able to build the big house on the site of Mary and Jesse Morgan’s old house.  Update:  According to plats of the time, Marry and Jesse did not own the property where Doc Stout built his house. This erroneous information came from a quote from Bill Anderson at the time the Doc Stout house was moved.

Wherever Doc Stout was seeing patients in the little office next door, Hattie was Doc Stout’s assistant.  She kept not only their house, but his office clean, including all of his equipment. Unusual for his day, he insisted that everything be sterilized. She read all his medical books and journals so she would understand what he was doing. And as I mentioned in my article about Doc Stout, she cooked and made up beds for patients who came and spent the night.  At times, particularly in the winter, Doc Stout, bear skin rug tucked over his knees, would drive his horses off into the countryside to see a patient and might not come back for days, leaving her to manage at home.

When people could not afford to pay the doctor in cash, they would give him food.  Grandma Hattie told my mother that many times she had to cook things she didn’t want because people had paid in produce.

Doc Stout was firmly against liquor, but Grandma Hattie kept a jar of fruit marinated in wine. He ate it happily and did not catch on.  Mother told a story about the “medicine” Grandma Hattie’s gave her for a stomach ache. It warmed her stomach and made her feel better, and she told her brother Bill about the yummy medicine that Grandma was spooning out.  Bill started moaning that he had a tummy ache.  He came back to his sister and said, “That stuff was AWFUL!”  Grandma had given Harriette a little brandy, but fearful of turning the little boy into an alcoholic, she gave him castor oil instead.  It definitely cured his “tummy ache.”

Hattie read everything she could get her hands on.  Just like her mother, Mary, she subscribed to Eastern magazines. When her son, William Morgan Stout, settled in New York City I’m sure she was sorry to see him go, but on the other hand–she could visit New York. And he could send her copies of the New York Times. She liked to work the crossword puzzles ( an addiction that my mother inherited). She also subscribed to the Literary Digest, founded in 1890 and famous for its political polls in the early 20th century. People in Killbuck, including the postmistress, waited for her magazine to come in so that they could borrow it when she was through.

 

Hattie Stout

Dr. George Stout, Maude Bartlett, Hattie Stout, Mrs. Geo, Carlos Circa 1890 Florida (?)

Hattie also liked to travel, and accompanied the doctor on many of his trips to conferences. They even lived “out West” to Kansas City for six months before returning to Killbuck.  

 

Hattie Stout in Buffalo

Hattie Stout and Maude Bartlett in Buffalo Circa 1910

When Maude’s husband died, Hattie went to Buffalo to live with her daughter for some time, but returned to Killbuck.  She also traveled to New York City to visit with her son.  Hattie may have gone to Colorado Springs to visit her half-sister Malvinia. The family took expeditions by car to Guernsey County to visit the Stout relatives after Doc Stout died. When Vera and her husband Guy moved to Columbus and Harriette started at Ohio State University, 

“Grandmother Stout came to visit. She wanted to do two things—get her hair done and go to an Ohio State football game. She had never gone to a football game before, and she was the kind of person who always wanted to try new things. So Vera talked the beauty shop into giving her an early appointment on Saturday so that she could get to the game afterwards.”

Hattie often told my mother that she wanted to live long enough to see women get the vote. “If she had lived in a big city, she would have been marching with the Suffragettes,” my mother said.

The Nineteenth Amendment, giving women the vote,  was ratified in August 1920. Although she had to wait until she was 78 years old,  I have not doubt that Hattie Stout proudly cast her vote for Ohio’s candidate for President, Warren Harding, in November.  (Nor do I doubt she railed at him as his administration turned corrupt).

My Uncle Bill (her grandson) was a dedicated radio builder and operator in the early days of build-your-own radios. So I can imagine the family clustered around a static-filled radio listening as the presidential election results were broadcast for the first time in history.

UPDATE:  Hattie died in Buffalo New York on January 24, 1928 where she had been staying with her daughter Maud Bartlett.  She was ill for at least six years (mentioned in a letter from her son Will) and a family feud developed over her treatment. Apparently she refused regular medical treatment, and Will blamed Maude for influencing her to use alternative approaches.  I wonder what her husband Doc William Stout would have thought.  According to an obituary, her body was transported back to Killbuck for burial, and that is where her tombstone stands today.

Hattie Stout 1921

Harriette Morgan Stout, January 1921, two months after she voted for the first time.

What a lot she saw in her lifetime! From horse and buggy to cars and motorized streetcars. From debating politics in her own home, to reading the New York Times and exercising her right to vote and hearing the results on the radio. And she never missed an election until she died in 1928.

A woman who loves to read and loves to travel and try new things.

A woman who is fascinated by politics.

A woman who believes women should have equality.

That’s Harriett E. Morgan Stout–but it could also describe the women who follow her. In fact, I combine the loves of reading and travel in my web site A Traveler’s Library, which I think Hattie would have enjoyed.  Yep. We’re related.

Sources:

I have confirmed birth, death and marriage dates from the family Bible with census records from Ancestry.com. The rich anecdotal history comes from various conversations with my mother, Harriette Kaser Anderson as she identified family photos and told me family stories, particularly during the 1980’s and 1990’s.