I was going through some old home video footage looking for a specific clip to post on my blog when a scene from Christmas 1993 came up on the screen. There was my Grandma and Grandpa Kinnaman at my old house and all of us were together as a family.
The TV went blank for a second and then it flickered to life again with Christmas at my Grandma and GrandDad Hicks’ house with everyone there including my Great Aunt Rose and Great Uncle Gib. Not to mention that I can hear my Grandma in the background being her normal self, which is something I haven’t seen too much of in the past ten years.
Watching these clips brought back other memories that had been hiding in the recesses of my mind. Then it hit me, things aren’t what they used to be or what I imagined life would be like at this point, and I just began to weep. I missed hearing my Grandpa’s voice. I missed my Great Uncle Gib and Aunt Rose (read more about her). I miss having the whole family together for Christmas and having Grandma there (and altogether mentally).
Watching this video from 1993, I remember what my "normal" life was. Yet as the years have gone by, things have changed and I’ve adjusted as best as I can. Now I have a "new normal." Sometimes it’s hard to look into the past and see what was and no longer is. Yet at the same time, while some things have passed, new and greater things have begun.
I’ve realized it’s okay to cherish the past, to remember the good times, and learn from the bad. I learned that I’m living in the here-and-now, not the past, not the future. God has placed me where I’m at for a reason and He’s brought me through an awful lot and for that, I am grateful.
So even though I’m living in a new normal, I have many things to be thankful for:
For my relationship with Jesus Christ
For both my parents
For the time I still have with my Grandma and GrandDad Hicks and Grandma Kinnaman
For my brothers, their children, and significant others
For my aunts and uncles.
For so many wonderful friends who love me so well
For my job, the people I work with, and the people I get to worship and pray with at church.
For my college and wrapping up my bachelor’s degree
I guess sometimes it takes a little time to be thankful to realize what you’ve really got.
Halloween has always been a favorite time of year for me. I have fond memories of going trick-or-treating, bringing home the loot to my mom, and putting the candy in Halloween-themed tins. In the nineties, my brother and his friend Nathaniel created a haunted house in Nathaniel’s basement. I don’t remember too much about it, but I know that I looked forward to going every year because they did a great job and didn’t try to scare me too much.
In the later years, Micah and Dad would decorate our big front porch for Halloween. Even I would get in the spirit by volunteering at The Children’s Museum Guild’s Haunted House. I hope to write a couple more posts about my love of Halloween, but for now, here’s a short video showing Nathaniel and Micah’s haunted house. The video quality isn’t super great because of the haunted house being dark and the video being shot using VHS, but I still hope you get a feel for what the haunted house was like. Enjoy!
I have been on a journey lately, which probably explains my absence from blogging over this past week. Yes friends, I have been digging into my family’s past to find out where I’m from and as it turns out, my roots are right here in Indiana.
How I Got Interested
I have to give a good amount of credit to my friend and co-worker Dana who has been busy researching her own family. As she talked about all the research she was doing, it reminded me of how much time my Grandma Hicks spent doing the same thing: writing to possible relatives, going to cemeteries, searching through birth and marriage indexes.
So why did I get interested? The simple truth is that I was interested in who my family truly was. Living on the north side of Marion County and now living in Hamilton County, I’ve heard people ask, "are you related to that Kinnaman?" Up until now, I haven’t really been able to give much of an answer. Yet after doing some research, I’m beginning to see that it’s a really good possibility that I am indeed related to many of the Kinnamans living in Hamilton County.
What I’ve Found
My first task has been to find out about more about my namesake, the Kinnaman family. So I went to ancestry.com, signed-up for the free trial and went digging through records. It’s amazing how many records are being digitized! I was able to see census records from 1890, 1900, 1910, 1920, and 1930. And my great-grandfather Kinnaman? I found his draft registration card from World War II… with his signature and everything!
Long story short? I’ve found out that my 4th Great Grandfather was John C Kinnaman and that he settled in Fall Creek Township (not far from Hamilton Southeastern High School) in 1832. I also found and visited Kinnaman Cemetery near IN-238 and Florida Avenue where many of my ancestors are buried.
As I looked through books on the history of Hamilton County, I was able to find a map of Fall Creek Township and was able to see the land that my ancestors owned… pretty cool!
Where to go from here…
Now that I’ve gotten through the discovery stage of my research, I’m starting to go more in-depth in cleaning up my family tree: verifying dates, documenting my findings, and all that good stuff.
To me, genealogy is a discovery into the DNA of who we really are. I think sometimes we get so caught up in living our lives for today that we fail to realize how far our families have come.
Since I actually enjoy research and being thorough, I’m hoping that the fruits of all this labor will give my nieces and nephew (and hopefully my own children) a view into who they are and give them something to be proud of. And hopefully, someone will continue to add on to my research, so that 100 years from now or more, one of my descendants can have the same discoveries I have.
"People will not look forward to posterity, who never look backward to their ancestors." – Edmund Burke
My Grandma Hicks has been in the nursing home for a while now… at least five years, if not more. At first it was a little difficult to get used to, but we all knew it was for the best. My GrandDad still lives at home and goes to the nursing home almost every day and spends hours with Grandma.
I went to see them yesterday and even though my visit yesterday was short, I still had a good time. My Grandma was in good spirits and her memory was doing pretty good.
It may not mean much to most, but just hearing her say my name meant a lot to me. My mom usually asks, "does she remember who you are?" To be quite honest, it doesn’t bother me if she can’t make the connection that she’s talking to is me. Just being able to have a conversation, no matter how big or small, is more than enough.
Grandma’s time in the nursing home has also been good for me to see just how much my GrandDad loves her and takes care of her. I’d love to share with you just one small story.
Taming the Old Lady With Chocolate
My Grandma is what you would call ornery, or in laymen’s terms, "bull-headed." The nursing staff has realized this and learned that she can be bribed with chocolate. She wants chocolate and knows the only cure for her stubbornness is chocolate.
Well anyway, yesterday Grandma wanted chocolate. GrandDad was giving her a playfully hard time, "Janey, you’ve already had three pieces!"
"But I’m hungry!" she’d respond. I don’t know if my GrandDad wanted to give in or maybe he wanted entertainment, "I’ll tell you what Jane, you whistle and I’ll give you some chocolate."
Maybe you have to know my Grandma to get a laugh out of this, but I’ve never seen her give in so easily to one of my GrandDad’s demands (it’s part of being bull-headed, I guess). But sure enough, she was lying in bed and just started whistling. "Okay John, I can’t whistle anymore, give me chocolate!"
After fiddling with the wrapper, GrandDad handed her a piece of sugar free chocolate. Who knew women could be so easily bribed? Ha ha!
So there you have it, just one of my many interactions with Grandma. While life in the nursing home isn’t the same as it is in the "outside world," I always treasure these special little interactions I get to have with her.
In the course of almost two hours on September 11, 2001, America witnessed the worst domestic attack in its history. I remember that day pretty vividly. I had awoken from a nightmare to see television coverage of a gaping hole in Tower One of the World Trade Center. Before I had a chance to realize what was going on, a plane struck Tower Two.
It happened all so quickly, yet strangely, time felt like it was standing still… as if we were living in a nightmare. The news stations couldn’t keep up; as soon as they’d cover one story, another one would unfold. The timeline of events shows what happened that day:
8:46 AM: American Airlines Flight 11 crashes into the World Trade Center north tower between the 93rd and 99th floors.
9:03 AM: United Airlines Flight 175 crashes into the World Trade Center south tower between the 77th and 85th floors.
9:37 AM: American Airlines Flight 77 crashes into The Pentagon.
9:59 AM: South Tower of World Trade Center collapses.
10:03 AM: United Airlines Flight 93 crashes into a field in Shanksville, Pennsylvania.
10:28 AM: North Tower of World Trade Center collapses.
It was absolute chaos and in an unprecedented move, all air traffic was grounded. Over 6,500 planes were forced to land with the only aircraft being allowed to fly being Air Force One and military jets.
I remember going into work later that afternoon and having a TV in the back office so that we could hear news of the rescue effort. Having worked at a supermarket long enough, I was good at making small talk and asking about the day’s news while I rung up people’s orders. Yet on that day, I didn’t have to say anything. We all knew what had happened and we were all still in shock. I remember going home that night and watching President Bush give an address from the Oval Office. It had been a long, nightmarish day and we needed our President to reassure us that the Union was still strong.
Many stories came out of that day, like that of NYFD Chaplain Mychal Judge. Upon hearing the news that the World Trade Center had been hit, Judge rushed down to the site to be of assistance. As he was in the North Tower of WTC administering last rites and praying, he was hit in the head with debris from the South Tower as it collapsed. In his final moments, Judge could be heard praying out loud, "Jesus, please end this right now! God please end this!"
Another story came from the family of Todd Beamer. Beamer was on a flight over the hills of Pennsylvania when many on the flight received news that the World Trade Center had been hit. Their plane had also been taken over by hijackers and Beamer had been on the phone with an operator from GTE letting her know of the situation. As the passengers decided to overtake their attackers, the operator could hear Beamer say, "Are you guys ready? Let’s roll." Shortly after that was heard, United Airlines flight 93 crashed in a field in Shanksville, PA. It’s intended target? The nation’s capital, Washington D.C.
On that day and the days following, I saw the best come out in my fellow Americans. Blood drives were held to collect blood for the many anticipated victims. Millions of dollars were being raised to support the victims’ families. Terrorism task forces, fire departments, and police departments from all over the country traveled to New York to help the NYPD and NYFD carry the burden.
That day showed me that even though we have our differences, we have the ability to put our differences aside and look out for our fellow man. I was driving downtown yesterday when I saw a work van with a flag painted on the door and below the flag it said, "Never Forget." I will never forget that day in September when thousands of lives were taken in an act of hatred. I will never forget the sacrifice of the NYPD, NYFD, and our armed forces who continue to keep us safe. I will never forget.
Long story short? I’ve found out that my 4th Great Grandfather was John C Kinnaman and that he settled in Fall Creek Township (not far from Hamilton Southeastern High School) in 1832. I also found and visited Kinnaman Cemetery near IN-238 and Florida Avenue where many of my ancestors are buried.
