Category Archives: Charboneau

Miss George directs a play

Sepia Saturday 447: Sixth in a series about my fourth grade teacher Miss Helen George — one of those friends, acquaintances and neighbors (FANs) who can make such a difference in a person’s life.

My fourth grade teacher Miss Helen George was a history buff — so is it any wonder that she wrote and directed plays about local and state history for my classmates and I to appear in?

In her play “Hooper’s Favored Site,” Miss George created a drama about the settlers who ventured west in the early 1800s and came to rest near Binghamton, N.Y., in what is now known as Endwell — but back then was called Hooper.

Washingtonian Hall (2108). This historic home of Amos and Ann Patterson stills stands on River Road along the Susquehanna in Endwell, N.Y. Photo by Molly Charboneau

Settler history at school

In Binghamton, Its Settlement, Growth and Development: And the Factors in Its History, 1800-1900, published in 1900, William Summer Lawyer described the town’s founding:

Hooper is the name of a small unincorporated village of perhaps less than a dozen dwellings, with one general store, a district school, and a milk depot on the main road leading from the city to [Town of] Union. One of the earliest residents in this locality was Elisha Hooper, who came from Massachusetts in 1807, and died in 1869. The hamlet, however, was named for Philander Hooper, son of the settler and one of the prominent men of the locality.

Miss George based her play on these local details, and we fourth graders portrayed the families of Hooper and another early settler Amos Patterson — whose large house still stands on River Road near the Hooper-Patterson family cemetery that we often rode over to on our bikes.

Miss George’s script is lost to history — but I remember appearing in her play in an old-time dress (sewn by my grandmother) that my Mom or her sister Aunt Rita had worn when they were in grade school.

Native history in the neighborhood

What I don’t remember was any mention of the Native Americans who inhabited the area before the settlers arrived.

Depiction of a Susquehannock on the Smith Map (1624). The handwritten caption reads “The Susquehannocks are a giant-like people and thus attired.”  The Susquehannock people, whose original tribal name has been lost, lived along the Susquehanna River until displaced by settlers. Source: Wikimedia Commons

Unfortunately, it was not unusual back then for Native history to be omitted from school curricula.

So we fourth graders had to expand our knowledge elsewhere — like in our neighborhoods.

My street was only one block from the Susquehanna River, where pretty much any digging with a backhoe unearthed carefully chiseled arrowheads.

These exquisite projectiles bore historic testimony to the sheer numbers of displaced Native people — like the Susquehannocks and others — who for generations had lived, planted, hunted and fished along those shores.

Broome County’s website today pays tribute to the Native guardians of the land, identifying some of their settlements:

Until the end of the American Revolution, the Broome County area was inhabited by Native Americans. Two main settlements were found at Onaquaga, near present-day Windsor, and Otseningo, located along the Chenango River, just north of the present-day City of Binghamton. Smaller Settlements could be found at Chugnuts, Castle Creek and the Vestal area.

What came before

Despite her play’s shortcomings, Miss George’s general enthusiasm for history was infectious as she directed us in our roles.

My time in her fourth grade class marked the beginning of my own interest in history, social science and delving deeply into the past to draw lessons for today — one reason why Molly’s Canopy carries a statement that honors Native land.

Miss George sparked my curiosity about what came before — and for that I will always be grateful.

Please stop back as this series continues. Meanwhile, please visit the blogs of this week’s other Sepia Saturday participants here

© 2018 Molly Charboneau. All rights reserved.

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Miss George in the classroom

Sepia Saturday 446: Fifth in a series about my fourth grade teacher Miss Helen George — one of those friends, acquaintances and neighbors (FANs) who can make such a difference in a person’s life.

My fourth grade teacher Miss Helen George entered my life in September 1959 — a landmark school year for me with so many new  things to learn.

My memories of first through third grades do not stand out in the same way, although I am sure my teachers were able and dedicated.

Ready for my closeup in my fourth grade class photo (circa 1959-60). While in Miss George’s fourth grade class I learned to write cursive, appeared in a play and began studying French as a second language. Scan by Molly Charboneau

But I recall many details of fourth grade, which began when I was 9 years old. Foremost among them is Miss George holding forth and coaching us on one topic or another.

The blessing of cursive

For one thing, fourth grade was when we learned to perfect our cursive handwriting — that lovely, flowing style that is finally making a comeback after not being taught for a generation. And Miss George made sure we honed this invaluable skill.

First, she taught us how to make running ovals on lined paper — long lines of slinky-like circles that had to be even and neat as we held our  pencils at the proper angle.

Next, she had us fill in various silhouettes  (busts of presidents, animals, trees, you name it) with the delicate rows of circles — awarding stars and wall postings for those whose work excelled.

One of my  fourth grade art projects (circa 1959-60). I suspect I was a Marx Brothers fan, from the looks of this paper bag puppet made in Miss George’s class. Photo by Molly Charboneau

Finally Miss George gave specific instruction in how to form each letter just so, and how to link them together into words — something I continued to refine up through junior high.

I was heartbroken when I learned that schools had stopped teaching cursive handwriting — a must for rapid note taking and for deciphering family and historical documents.

So I was pleased to discover it has recently returned to school curricula — and I’m sure Miss George would be pleased, too.

Art, awards and a visiting French teacher

My mother, who taught elementary school music, diligently saved my landmark childhood projects, report cards and awards — and those of my siblings — in a “baby box” that was later presented to each of us as adults. So I have a couple of souvenirs from my time with Miss George.

One is a cigar-smoking paper bag puppet (above) that has lasted through the years — a sample of the type of creative art project Miss George assigned to us. The other is my wrapper from a large Hersey’s candy bar (below) — a major reward presented by Miss George for a job well done.

Wrapper of a coveted award from Miss George (circa 1959-60). Miss George gave out large candy bars as rewards for a job well done. Alas, my younger brothers ate mine! Photo by Molly Charboneau

My younger brother Mark told me that I hung onto the intact candy bar for a while to savor the pleasure of the prize — until he and my youngest brother Jeff snuck into my room, tore open the wrapper and started eating it!

Yet another landmark fourth grade event was the introduction of French language immersion by a visiting instructor.

I remember gazing quizzically out Miss George’s classroom window at falling snow as the teacher repeated over and over, “La neige est blanche.” (The snow is white.) — to try to teach the concept of black and white. I am grateful for those early French lessons whenever I research my Québécois ancestors!

I take to the stage

Perhaps my most vivid memory from my year with Miss George is taking to the stage in my first acting role.

As discussed in the last post, Miss George regularly used stagecraft to impart lessons to her students. And in 1959-60 she created two plays about town and state history that were put on by my fourth grade class. More on this in the next post.

Please stop back as this series continues. Meanwhile, please visit the blogs  of this week’s other Sepia Saturday participants here

© 2018 Molly Charboneau. All rights reserved.

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1890: An administration bond for Mary E.(Blakeslee) Bull

Sepia Saturday 434: Second in a series on the settlement of my great-great grandfather Arthur T. Bull’s estate. A Union Army veteran, he was the father of my paternal great grandmother Eva (Bull) Charboneau.

Nine months after great-great grandfather Arthur T. Bull, 57, died without a will on 30 January 1890, his widow Mary Elizabeth (Blakeslee) Bull was appointed administratrix of his estate by the Surrogate Court of Cattaraugus Co., N.Y.

Perhaps not the best time for Mary, who was simultaneously applying for Civil War pension benefits for herself and her two youngest children.

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Law books. Probate documents generate information that can help illuminate an ancestor’s story. That was certainly true of my great-great grandfather Arthur T. Bull’s estate settlement.

But with Arthur and Mary’s seven other adult children scattered throughout New York State, she was the logical beneficiary to take on the task. And as the surviving spouse, by law Mary was also the first one the court was obligated to turn to since Arthur left no will naming an executor.

Letter and bond

When the court appointed Mary as administratrix, it required a guarantee that she would responsibly carry out her duties.

So on 13 Aug. 1890, two days before Mary received her Letters of Administration to oversee disposition of her husband’s estate, she signed a financial bond for $150 — a sum she would forfeit if she fell short on the job.

Mary had no income at the time. Where could this money come from? That’s where her two cosigners stepped in — Carey D. Davie and William H. Crandall — each with a different relationship to the Bull family.

Carey D. Davie, an attorney, has appeared on this blog before — as a witness on Mary’s 14 March 1890 application for her late husband’s accured U.S. Civil War pension benefits.

On that application, Mr. Davie testified that he knew Mary was Arthur’s wife “from acquaintance with Mr. Bull and family and from general reputation.”

Family friend, attorney or both?

So was he a friend of the family? Or did he serve as Mary’s lawyer after Arthur’s death? Or possibly both?

Whatever the circumstances, on 13 Aug. 1890 he was willing to step up as a co-signer on Mary’s administration bond and provide the following notarized details of his assets. (Handwritten portions are underlined below.)

Carey D. Davie of Salamanca N.Y, the surety named in the foregoing bond  being…duly sworn,…deposes and says that he owns in his own right real estate in the town of Salamanca consisting of house and lot and the same is of the value not less than eight hundred dollars…exempt by law from levy and sale under an execution.

And…that he owns personal estate in the town aforesaid and that its value is not less than two thousand dollars that it consists of bonds. stock…and that he is worth in good property not less than twenty five hundred dollars over all the debts and liabilities which he owes or has incurred  and exclusive of property exempt from levy and sale under an execution.

In short, Mary had a backer for her $150 bond with sufficient collateral to satisfy the court should she default in her administratrix duties. Nor was he the only one, for William H. Crandall also co-signed the bond and listed his assets.

More on Mr. Crandall and his unique relationship to the Bull family in the next post. Meanwhile, please visit the blogs of this week’s other Sepia Saturday participants here.

© 2018 Molly Charboneau. All rights reserved.

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