Where Do YOU Fit In? (part 2)

This chart rings fairly accurate to me, though of course there are no hard and fast rules about how people behave and react to their own situation. I see myself crossing categories because I see the world in terms of international, and then spilling over into poverty because the label on clothing means less than nothing to me. 

I personally know more people living in poverty than in wealth. And something that puzzles me is this: the poor are so overly generous at giving that it makes the rest of us look like Mr. E. Scrooge. And it is inappropriate at times. Example (and I have many): I attended a baby shower for a very poor unwed mother. With one exception, every attendee was a middle-class woman charitably supporting the future child of this ill equipped mom who refused to give up her baby for adoption. The exception attendee was an equally poor unwed mother of many ( call her A), who presented gift after gift after gift after gift. A gave more than the rest of us combined (we each brought the usual one carefully chosen gift). We were embarrassed for her. Why? Certainly A was not self-conscious in the least. All that concerned her was that her friend had nothing and needed everything. Where she got the money to buy the gifts is beyond me. 

According to the info below, in A's world, money should be used, spent. Perhaps the sentiment is, "I will never crawl out of this poverty pit so I might as well enjoy life when and how I can."  Is that why (or at least it's my perception) that smoking and drinking, having costly nail decor, etc. seems more common among lower income folks?  My friend Julie has commented that the poor seem to prop each other up; that way no one falls into the depths of despair and they all manage to get by.

Just some thoughts; end of sermon . . .

Where Do YOU Fit In? [part 1]

Yikes, is it November again already? I look forward to reading other folks' blogs yet writing my own every day will be a test. 

Could you survive in poverty? In middle-class? In wealth? I recently came into possession of a three-page paper that asks this multi-part question. It’s a yes/no quiz actually, and by answering the statements you will be able to tell where you fit in the social strata. One purpose of the “quiz”is to help you understand what it is like to be in an unfamiliar “class.” A related purpose is to bring out any empathy you can muster for those living in poverty. 

Read the statements and 'grade' yourself. Tomorrow I'll post an interesting chart that interprets these categories for you.

A sampling of the questions.

Poverty:

I know which churches and sections of town have the best rummage sales

I know which grocery stores’ garbage bins can be accessed for thrown-away food

I know how to get someone out of jail

I know how to get a gun, even if I have a police record

I know how to live without electricity and a phone

I know how to move in half a day

I can get by without a car

I know how to fight and defend myself physically

I know how to get and use food stamps and other benefits

I know where the free medical clinics are

I am good at trading and bartering

Middle Class:

I know how to get my children into Little League, piano, soccer, etc.

I know which stores carry the clothing brands my family prefers

My children know the best name brand in clothing

I know how to get a library card

I repair items in my house when they break, or know how to call a repair service

I know how to get a good interest rate on a new-car loan

I understand the difference among the principal, interest, and escrow statements on my house payment

I talk to my children about going to college

I know how to order in a nice restaurant

I know how to help my children with their homework and don’t hesitate to call the school for additional info

Wealth:

I have several favorite restaurants in different countries of the world

I know how to hire a decorator to do my house during the holidays

I know the hidden rules of the Junior League

I support or buy the work of a particular artist

I have at least two residences that are staffed and maintained

I know how to ensure confidentiality and loyalty from my domestic staff

I know how to read a corporate financial statement and analyze my own financial statements

I know how to host the parties that “key” people attend

I have two or three “screens” that keep people whom I do not wish to see away from me

I am on the board of at least two charities

Our Golden Goose

There's only one reason why we still have this particular 80s icon in our house: our grandchildren spend more time playing with Mother Goose than any other 'toy' we have. They ride her, kiss her, pet her, groom her. She stars in their made-up plays and adventures. She was the star in Jonah's recent 3rd grade class play; unfortunately a teacher accidentally dropped her on her tail, shattering her rear half. The mortified teacher begged to buy me a new one, but where would you find such a thing in 2012? We patched her up good as new.

Our younger grandchildren love to dress her in whatever is handy. Yesterday they used their Great-Great Grandma Ashe's crocheted doilies. If our golden goose could see herself in the mirror she would be embarrassed as all get-out:

We'll keep her around until disaster strikes and she's beyond repair. I hope she lasts through all of our grandchildren's young lives before she gives up the goose. Oops, I mean ghost. In their old age they will have a common memory to laugh about. And they'll wonder why Grandma had this dorky thing sitting around.

A Mule-ish Adventure, Part 2

From Winnemucca I drove up to the WZ Ranch near Steens Mountain. 

 
Paul rounded up the mules from the range, then saddled up a couple of them for us to ride.

Our destination was the Round Barn which was built by early homesteader Peter French about 1880.

Out on the range.

 Back at the ranch Paul cooked up some elk steaks. Later I pitched my tent out on the range and watched the moon rise while the coyotes howled. The sun rose about 5 a.m.

Then it was hit the highway for home while trying not to crash gawking at the beautiful scenery!

And Teresa, I found you the perfect SE Oregon homestead!

A Mule-ish Adventure, Part 1

Spending a weekend watching mules race was not on my wish list but now I've done it and loved it and had a blast! For several years my nephew Paul has been involved in training and racing mules on the WZ ranch near wild and remote Steens Mountain. Last week I joined him in Winnemucca Nevada to watch him in a 30-mile endurance race on a very hot day in the Nevada high desert.  

My nephew Hayden and I volunteered to wash down the mules at the halfway check-point. We hitched a ride miles out into the desert with a rancher from LeGrande. We filled huge tubs with water, block ice and giant sponges, then settled in to wait for the first mules to gallop in. Paul and his mule MacGregor (on left), were one of the first to rush into the check-point:

Paul removes MacGregor's saddle so the rest of the crew can cool him down with ice water:

The task is done and off they go for another 13 miles:

Paul won third place in the race. The next couple days we watched the rodeo and hung out with the mules. We all slept in tents pitched in an empty stalls at the end of this row.

Steven and Kristi

The professional photos are not yet ready, but we have a few snapshots to share.

The Setting

Helvetia Oregon, May 5 2012

The Bride and Groom

The Family

 

Friends

 friends from Provo

 Bishop and Darlene Young

The Reception

Jackson Schoolhouse, Hillsboro Oregon

Jonah caught the garter!

The Open House

Walker Home, Beaverton Oregon

Happy 150th Birthday!

One set of my great-grandparents are now 150 years old. Michael Henry Toomey was born 24 September 1861 in Brattleboro Vermont, to Irish immigrant parents (John Toomey / Mary O'Donnell).

MHT's father and grandfather worked on the railroad. I'm not sure of his father's job description, but the family moved up and down the railroad line in the 1860s-70s-80s. Some of MHT's siblings were born in other SE Vermont towns such as Putney, East Dummerston, and South Vernon, which was the main railroad junction in the area. The curious thing about South Vernon is that it straddled the state line between Vermont and Massachusetts. His two youngest siblings actually show up in both state's records. Perhaps the family moved to a house across the road, putting themselves in the neighboring state.

MHT attended high school at the Bernardston Academy in Massachusetts. He left there to become a railroad brakeman, one of the most dangerous jobs around. In those days brakemen rode atop the caboose where the wheel-brake had to be manually turned. Many a brakeman was knocked off by low bridges or lurching train cars. As the story goes, he was injured on the job, and during his recuperation worked in the railroad office where he learned the skill of telegraphy. And telegraphy became his life's work.  

About 1880 MHT began work as a telegrapher in Greenfield Massachusetts, then in Boston. By 1884 he was working in New York for Western Union, and at some point moved to the New York office of the Boston Globe Newspaper. By the time of his death in 1901 he ran the night-wire service for that paper. And he was known as one of the country's fastest telegraphers.

Mary Catharine Sullivan was also born in Brattleboro to Irish immigrant parents, Cornelius O'Sullivan and Catharine Cavanaugh, on 13 February 1862. Her family lived in the Irish patch on upper Elliot Street, then in 1870 bought a small two-level house on Clark Street that still stands. The backyard had a small apple orchard. Some of the Sullivan relatives also lived on Clark St.

When Mary was 15 her father was run over on the train tracks north of Brattleboro. I can imagine the horror and distress of his broken self being carried home to die.

Mary and MHT attended some of the same Brattleboro schools during their early years, but once his family moved to South Vernon I don't know how often they saw each other. After he began his career as a telegrapher in distant cities, I wonder how often he got back to Brattleboro for visits. And I wish I knew at what point they began courting and decided to marry.

At St. Michael's Catholic Church in on 1 September 1885, she and MHT were married. Mary left her job at a local Brattleboro business, Leonard and Roess Cigar Shop, whose employees gifted the happy couple with a china tea set. They honeymooned in Boston, then moved to Brooklyn New York. Mary returned to Brattleboro to have her first two children, Kitty (1886) and Harry (1888); the other six were born in Brooklyn--Ed, Gert, Frank, Alice, Marian, Charles.  The family bought a house in the Bay Ridge section in the 1890s. They were able to afford music lessons and other niceties. Harry and Charlie both died as toddlers.

MHT's early death on 26 December 1901 at age 40 had far-reaching effects. Some family members suspect MHT had debts to pay off from stock market losses. The newly-impoverished widow went to work as a nurse. My grandmother Alice and her sister Marian were sent to live with MHT's mother, further east in Brooklyn. Frank was sent to St. John's Boys Home. The family was able to keep their house; in the late 19-teens they moved into a Brooklyn apartment.

Two months before her death in 1930, Mary had retired, was living with her youngest daughter who probably helped pay the $50/month rent on their Brooklyn apartment. They owned a radio according to the US Census. She is buried in Holy Cross Cemetery in Brooklyn next to Harry and Charlie.