When researching the ancestry of my sister-in-law Susie, I came across the stories of two sisters—Anna and Eva Grimm. Anna was Susie’s great-grandmother (at least on paper!) and Eva was her infamous sister—and both of their stories fascinate me. I’ll start with Anna.
The war hasn’t affected me the way you might think it would, and I have seen things that I never thought I would see, but they just seem everyday. After it is over, the letup on my nerves may make me jumpy for a while, but that is all… I’ll be home soon, I hope, and I will be happier than I can ever say. I have the folder with your pictures in it, and the Bible that Aunt Ithel gave me in my pocket, and when things are hot, I feel them and think, ‘How can I miss with these in my pocket?’”…
My sister-in-law Susie lost her beloved father a few months ago. She asked me to share some thoughts about him. So I combined info from his obituary with the pictures and notes she gave me, and this is what I came up with. I hope you like it, Susie. I’m so sorry for your loss.
My paternal grandmother, Sara Peterson Wallin, came from a Swedish family of six girls and two boys, all long dead now. Several of her siblings have stories which intrigue me—particularly the story of Aunt Therese.
“Betty and I had a big fight today. She started it, so I’m going to let her cool her heels for 3 or 4 days. I can get 4-to-1 odds off of anybody in the house that she’ll call up and apologize within 72 hours. Boy, is she going to eat dirt then!”
My dad, Robert Milo Wallin, would have turned 90 this coming week. He’s been gone 20 years now—I had only 38 years with him on this earth… His sense of humor was one of my favorite things about him.
This is the story of my grandma Wallin’s oldest sister, Anna Marie Peterson Genoways (1887-1928). She was a schoolteacher, like I used to be; and she found love later in life, like I did.
My husband’s paternal grandmother was a Carriveau by birth. They were a family who seemed to live under a shadow of misfortune. The patriarch of the family was Laurent Corriveau, who came from Quebec to Michigan in the late 1800s after his young wife died (probably in childbirth). He and his second wife Eugenie, who went by “Annie,” settled in Huron County, Michigan—“The Thumb” as Michiganders say—where they began to spell their last name “Carriveau.” In the 1910 census Annie reports that they had “thirteen children, eleven still living.” Nine are shown in this picture, with Larry and Annie front and center.
War had been declared, and Norman Mosey, a farm boy from Michigan, was newly drafted into the U.S. Navy. A reporter for Michigan Farmer magazine did a story about ‘our boys in the service” and when he asked Norman, “What can we at home do for our servicemen?” Norman answered, “Write us letters.” Norman had no mother or sisters or girlfriend to write to him, so mail call was probably not his best time of the day.