Showing posts with label Keen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Keen. Show all posts

Thursday, April 17, 2014

Uncle Hubbard


This is the only picture of Hubbard Keen that I know of.
Here he is selling tomatoes(?) from the back of his pickup truck in Centerville, Delaware sometime in the 1920s.
Hubbard was my Grandfather Keen's older brother, son of Walter Hamilton Keen and Henrietta.

Uncle Jack Keen recently rather incidentally shared in an email;
"Uncle Hubbard was Dad's oder brother. He would come to our home at Thanksgiving & stay till New Yr. Bring turkey goose plus other produce.I played pinocle with him during Xmas holidays.He was an advanced agent for the Circus, might have been Ringling Bros. & baramun/Bailey circus. He had some great stories."


All we heard about Hubbard while we were growing up was this condensed tale:
Hubbard went out with her on Wednesday;
His father married her on Friday;
Hubbard went West and raised goats.
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EDIT:  Well, shoot. I just looked up the marriage record.  Louisa and Walter H were married on April 25, 1900, which was a Wednesday.  You'll just have to suspend that knowledge now, and go on with the story as traditionally told.
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When going through my father's papers, I came across a badly written composition for college freshman English class that told the rest of the story - at least as Newlin knew it.

Here is a 'warts and all' transcription of that paper - complete with the misspelling of both Hubbard and Louisa.

Biography of Uncle Hubbert

Uncle Hubbert was born in Wilmington about the year 1886 – the first of three children. His father was a preacher by gift , and a cabinet maker by trade. Because of limited finances, Hubbert quit school and took up the trade of tin-smith and metal-worker. His mother died just after his fifteenth birthday, and because his father could not afford a housekeeper the neighbors helped him and his father keep house.

After several months an attractive young lady of sixteen years, Miss Louise Hazelhurst, offered to be housekeeper for her room and board. She had left her own home because she did not get along well with her step-mother. She was welcomed to the job, and the family returned to their duties.

Uncle Hubbert, between the age of fifteen and sixteen was very nearly six feet tall, weighed about 170 pounds, and was very neat and manly in appearance. His character was that of nearly all preachers' sons of his time – he was a goody-goody at home and when he was in the presence of his father. The only bad habits he had were smoking and playing cards – the influence of the masters of his trade.

Uncle Hubbert had fallen in love with Louise, but this was not apparent about the house. They had dates, but they never left or returned to the house together. They nearly always met in Shellpot park for their little escapades. The love birds got to a point, on Wednesday evening, where he asked her to marry him. She consented, and they planned to elope the following Saturday. Time during the next two days passed slowly for Uncle Hubbert, as he had everything planned for the elopement on Saturday.

He was planning his life together with Louise. Friday night when he got home from work he got the shock of his life – he found that his father had married Louise in the afternoon. Saturday, after forcing himself to congratulate his father, he took his belongings and went to work, but he did not return.

With an “I don't care what happens” attitude, he headed north until he arrived at Philadelphia. Here he lived in a boarding home, and worked as a trolley car motor-man. During his wanderings at night he happened on a gambling joint. This was just the type of place he was looking for to make him forget his troubles. Being a good card player, he went home that evening with a good week salary obtained within a few hours. This continued for about a week, and then he quit his work and got a job playing cards for the gambling house. This environment just added to his disgust for women and what was right.

One night when he was more depressed than usual he indulged in the drinking of alcohol for the first time. When he got home early the following morning the boarding mistress was waiting for him because she had developed an interest in him, and was anxious about his safety.

She had found out where he was working nights and she could tell from his manner that he was not the type of young man to be in such places. That morning she managed to get him upstairs. He then related to her the story of what had happened at home and gave that as an excuse for being in his present condition. Emma, the boarding mistress, felt sorry for him and suggested that he travel to forget his troubles.

Soon he was bumming his way to California – only spending his money when his hard luck story for a meal didn't work. By the time he got to California, he was a pretty good judge of character because of his contacts with all classes of people. In California he joined the J.L.Barnes circus as a member of the lighting squad. Enthused about his work and pleased with himself, he wrote a letter to Emma thanking her for her kind advice and motherly interest. This letter started quite a correspondence between them. Years passed by and meanwhile Emma had left her husband and was following Uncle Hubbert from town to town. He had advanced from lighting squad to and advance advertising agent, and he made arrangements in the various towns before the circus arrived.

After ten years of service Uncle Hubbert was finally persuaded by Emma to leave the circus and to settle down in California on a goat farm with her.

The years with the circus had made him a shrewd businessman and a good conversationalist. It also created within him a strong desire to wander and gave him further opportunities to study character. Emma's influence, on the other hand, tended to steady him. He stopped gambling and playing cards, and for a while he gave up his wanderings. He was, however, still restless, and he soon became tired of California. They moved about from place to place – never staying long in one town.

At the present time they are living in a small town where they have lived for two years.



Monday, August 6, 2012

We used to sing


Going through a box of musty sheet music, it struck me that we don't sing much any more. 
Many of the pieces have names written on them: Mary Stuck, Mary E Keen, Marjorie Keen, Marjorie Smith, Grace Kwick, Grace K Keen..
Here is just a small part of the contents of that box.
I don't remember anyone actually playing any of these songs on the piano, but I know that both of my parents sang bits of all of them at one time or another - enough that I could probably still sing them.

It isn't that we sang at family picnics and holiday dinners.  It is just that the songs were around, somehow in the collective consciousness.
Maybe this happened because more people were listening to fewer radio stations, so had more songs in common?

I recently mentioned at Karen's house that my friends and I would sing folk songs* at slumber parties, and the response was, "What a weird childhood you had!"    Apparently my children and grandchildren didn't/don't sing on school bus trips, either.  I'm not sure who is weird. 


I'm sure we all sing along with the radio in the car.
Sometimes that tends toward strange, yes.  I make a point of listening for "Maoz Tzur" every Hanukkah, so that I can sing along.   And "Now Is The Month of Maying" reliably shows up on NPR every May 1.  But I also sing along with oldies and the occasional catchy country song, at least when I am alone.

In a slightly different category, maybe, but still in the class of unofficial singing, one of my treasured memories is of the Tower Hill Vocal Ensemble breaking into four-part Christmas carols (and possibly bits of Britten's Ceremony of Carols) while waiting for a table at Howard Johnson's after caroling at unremembered homes.   We were good, so the customers loved it.

Music makes such strong memories.
Tower Hill music might be its own post sometime.


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* specifically:  Michael Row the Boat Ashore, Where Have All the Flowers Gone, Lemon Tree.. 
Probably limited to what could be accompanied by two or three chords on our ineptly played guitars.


Tuesday, January 10, 2012

January 11 - Grandmother Keen's birthday

Mary Emma Stuck Keen was born in 1893. This portrait was taken for a church directory in the 1970s.
I have recently found pictures that make me think I never knew her at all.
We grew up hearing fewer Keen stories than Kwick ones, and we spent more time with the Kwick grandparents.  I am only now coming to some understanding of the Keen side.
 .

Here is the woman I remember growing up.
The picture was taken at some Christmas in the 50's or 60's.
She was certainly pleasant enough, but less accessible, somehow, than some other relatives.  (I wonder if I am not somewhat like her in this regard.)


Here are a few of a number of rather solemn photographs of Mary taken throughout her life.
Age 8
Wedding
Age 19


And this quite scary family portrait from maybe 1927?

Marjorie, Mary, Newlin,Walter, Evelyn, Jack



But the pictures that  intrigue me more are the un-solemn ones that showed up.
I was surprisingly glad/relieved to see these.

Picnic with friends (including Walter)
Youngest son Jack was being funny?