Cornell University's Armenian Archaeological Dig
Here is a beautiful tour of remains of early Armenian civilization, uncovered by Cornell's archaeologists. Perhaps this is where our Armenian Grandmother got the genes for reading the future in the remains of an empty coffee cup.
Vehslage Masonic Lodge of Irvington NJ
Here is a pamphlet listing all members of the Vehslage Masonic Lodge of Irvington, New Jersey in 1922. The Lodge was new in 1921. It was named after the Reverend Henry Vehslage, pastor of the Reformed Church of Irvington. That's all I know. We found this in family papers. I scanned and put it up for anyone searching an ancestor who might have been a Mason in vicinity of Newark or Irvington, NJ.
Vehslage Lodge - Irvington NJ 1922
I am no expert on the Masons or their Lodges in America. Wikipedia can tell you all you need to know if you aren't either.
Vehslage Lodge - Irvington NJ 1922
I am no expert on the Masons or their Lodges in America. Wikipedia can tell you all you need to know if you aren't either.
From Irvington, NJ to the March on Washington, 1963: One man's story
Steve Raymen and I were classmates at Irvington High School. When we graduated in 1962, he went on to Duke University. Even in high school his political awareness was way above that of most of us, including me. Lucky for me, Steve and I renewed our contact in the past 10 years or so, and he shared the history of his civil rights work in the 1960's. While I only watched and listened back then, Steve actually did!
When President Obama was inaugurated in 2009, Steve came to Washington with his granddaughter so that he could witness the great event that owed so much to the 1963 March on Washington, which he had attended as part of his civil rights work at Duke.
Steve did not return for the 50th anniversary of the March on Wednesday of this past week (August 28), but I emailed to let him know I was thinking of him. He replied with a summary he had prepared for a Bill Moyers special years ago outlining his memories of that day and the role that the March played in his life.
Here it is-- Steve's personal history of his experiences on the day of the March on Washington, 1963:
I became active in civil rights work in early 1963, during my freshman year at Duke University. I had grown up in a nearly all-white community in New Jersey. I believe in our high school graduation class of 1962 there was one student of color among 525 students.
My first activist effort in 1963 was to picket the local Sears store in Durham to protest its failure to hire local blacks. I think it was during the first hour of picketing that a car with white persons stopped along the curb and the occupants threatened to kill us. Likely not more than a minute later, we were approached by some black bystanders who assured us not to worry, that they would be watching and help protect us if need be.
Most of the classmates in my Duke dorm were from the South, mostly from North Carolina, and it was an awakening for me into the complexities of the civil rights issues in the South and the Jim Crow laws that were
part of everyday life there that quickly brought me to a greater awareness of the racial divide and the pervasive and glaring social inequities. Duke was still a segregated private university my freshman year, only deciding to integrate in my sophomore year.
I first became aware of the plans to have the March on Washington perhaps four to six months before the event. I spent that summer of 1963 between my freshman and sophomore years working at the local can company [in northern New Jersey] to earn money for my first car. I also did some civil rights work around my home area of Irvington and Newark, New Jersey. Civil rights actions were bubbling up throughout the country by then and the thought of gathering in Washington, D.C. was appealing.
Some of my friends were planning to drive down to D.C. for the March, so I joined them. We left very early in the morning, sometime around 3 AM, driving down the New Jersey Parkway and Turnpike, through Delaware and Maryland into D.C.
We arrived in D.C. around 7 AM or so. Prior to August 28th, especially during the last week, there had been many articles about the forthcoming March, a number of them expressing fears of riots and the like. But all was very quiet on a hot and humid early morning in Washington, D.C.
We arrived sufficiently early at the Washington Monument that hardly anyone was there. Among the few groups milling around at that time was George Lincoln Rockwell and his cohorts from the American Nazi Party. One of my friends who journeyed down from Irvington with me --Herb Asher -- proceeded to get into an intense discussion with one of the Nazi members, although it was a verbal exchange only. Rockwell inhaled on his pipe as his minions tried to stir things up verbally. I do not remember if it was the Capitol Police or some other security force, but there were law officers nearby. But there was no need for any direct intervention.
As time moved on, more and more people began to gather. A platform had been set up at the base of one side of the Washington Monument and singers began to use it. I remember that Ronnie Gilbert and Lee Hays from the singing group "The Weavers" were on the platform.. I think Ronnie Gilbert spoke a bit about her experiences over the years in activist causes.
To put the March in context, there was at that time the beginning of writings talking about the Old and New Left: the Old Left were those who often were involved in activities from the 1930’s labor strikes through the McCarthy period era; the New Left were the students and new young activists who brought new blood to the activist movements. In general, they were less dogmatic than the Old Left and found the Cold War taunts and efforts to label them as either Communist sympathizer or Communist as irrelevant if not outright humorous.
On the platform singing at one time were Bob Dylan, Joan Baez, Peter,Paul and Mary, Odetta and Ronnie Gilbert and Lee Hays. I do not ever remember that grouping all at one time on a stage before or since that occasion.. Dylan had just come out of the 1963 Newport Folk Festival touring with Joan Baez. I had seen them together at a Baez concert in Asbury Park about a month earlier. It was still a very young Dylan at his protest best in those days. His FREEWHEELING album had been released that year and ‘Blowing in the Wind” was getting lots of radio time in the Peter, Paul and Mary version. Baez was the larger presence then, and she helped introduce Dylan to her audiences.
In the general milling around the Washington Monument during introductions and changes in performers, I encountered a young man wearing a Duke University T-shirt. I introduced myself to Harry Boyte, who was planning to enroll at Duke that coming fall. Little did we know then that we would become active participants in the Chapel Hill Freedom Movement of 1963-64, would spend time on the protest lines and spend time in jail together, once with 38 of us crammed into a 6-person cell overnight after a non-violent, civil disobedience protest. Likewise, we did not know that one year later, also in August, we would be together again in St. Augustine, Florida, where SCLC and Dr. King committed themselves to integrating one of the most violent and Klan-dominated cities in the deep South.
Harry would become the head of the Duke University CORE (Congress of Racial Equality) chapter his freshman year. His father, Harry Boyte, Sr., was an aide to Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. at the time of the March, and Harry told me he had just come from dropping off to the press area a copy of the speech Dr. King was to deliver later that day. There was no sense at that point in the March that Dr.
King's address would become immortalized as the “I Have a Dream” speech, although I believe the “I Have a Dream segment” of Dr. King’s address was extemporaneous and not part of the prepared text that Harry delivered to the press. (I still have a copy of the The New York Times coverage of the March the next day with excerpts from each of the 13 speakers. In retrospect, it is interesting that no portion of the “I Have a Dream” segment was included in the Dr. King excerpts quoted by the Times the next day.)
Harry and I talked for awhile and eventually parted ways. The crowd was steadily growing near the platform area. Buses were coming from all points into the Mall area. Many church and community groups had rented them for the occasion and it was soon apparent that there was a very, very large gathering in the making. Meanwhile, there were introductions of various groups that had walked or driven up from the South to be on hand. There was special recognition for the groups from the deep South that were able to make it to the March, many traveling many days to be there for the occasion. I have some box camera snap shots that were taken around the stage that day, although they are very basic and not the best of resolutions. My memory is vague about what time the March actually began. By then, the protest signs that are in evidence in photos of the March had been passed out and slowly the crowd began to move from the Washington Monument to the Lincoln Memorial on their own.
It was an exceedingly hot and humid day and it took its toll on some of the marchers. A number passed out from the heat. As I remember it, many of the whites were dressed more casually. The African-Americans were for the most part more formally attired in dresses and suits. There was an air of the ceremonial and high purpose about the occasion.
For me, having worked with others in relative isolation doing some civil rights activities in the Durham area, it was inspiring to see so many people, black and white, marching together for a common cause. I had never been in such a large group before that was addressing a social issue. The presence of so many groups from cities and towns that already had gained prominence because of civil rights struggles was impressive. It brought a sense of gathered and common purpose and provided a visual and physical presence to the scope and depth of the civil rights movement. I think it gave all of us who participated in the March an awareness of how much our small efforts were part of a much broader movement. Victor Hugo had once said nothing is so powerful as an idea whose time has come. It was very much in that spirit that the March gave renewed energy and commitment to the struggles.
I have heard others say how the March and Dr. King’s speech were responsible for their “criminal” records in the ensuing few years. That was true for me as well. In the spirit of the times, when the light of national and international media assisted immensely in bringing to the larger public consciousness the inequities of existing laws and the racism of existing attitudes, the March united and helped define a Movement that would change America.
When President Obama was inaugurated in 2009, Steve came to Washington with his granddaughter so that he could witness the great event that owed so much to the 1963 March on Washington, which he had attended as part of his civil rights work at Duke.
Steve did not return for the 50th anniversary of the March on Wednesday of this past week (August 28), but I emailed to let him know I was thinking of him. He replied with a summary he had prepared for a Bill Moyers special years ago outlining his memories of that day and the role that the March played in his life.
Here it is-- Steve's personal history of his experiences on the day of the March on Washington, 1963:
The 1963 March on Washington: Notes:
by Steve Raymen
I became active in civil rights work in early 1963, during my freshman year at Duke University. I had grown up in a nearly all-white community in New Jersey. I believe in our high school graduation class of 1962 there was one student of color among 525 students.
My first activist effort in 1963 was to picket the local Sears store in Durham to protest its failure to hire local blacks. I think it was during the first hour of picketing that a car with white persons stopped along the curb and the occupants threatened to kill us. Likely not more than a minute later, we were approached by some black bystanders who assured us not to worry, that they would be watching and help protect us if need be.
Most of the classmates in my Duke dorm were from the South, mostly from North Carolina, and it was an awakening for me into the complexities of the civil rights issues in the South and the Jim Crow laws that were
part of everyday life there that quickly brought me to a greater awareness of the racial divide and the pervasive and glaring social inequities. Duke was still a segregated private university my freshman year, only deciding to integrate in my sophomore year.
I first became aware of the plans to have the March on Washington perhaps four to six months before the event. I spent that summer of 1963 between my freshman and sophomore years working at the local can company [in northern New Jersey] to earn money for my first car. I also did some civil rights work around my home area of Irvington and Newark, New Jersey. Civil rights actions were bubbling up throughout the country by then and the thought of gathering in Washington, D.C. was appealing.
Some of my friends were planning to drive down to D.C. for the March, so I joined them. We left very early in the morning, sometime around 3 AM, driving down the New Jersey Parkway and Turnpike, through Delaware and Maryland into D.C.
We arrived in D.C. around 7 AM or so. Prior to August 28th, especially during the last week, there had been many articles about the forthcoming March, a number of them expressing fears of riots and the like. But all was very quiet on a hot and humid early morning in Washington, D.C.
We arrived sufficiently early at the Washington Monument that hardly anyone was there. Among the few groups milling around at that time was George Lincoln Rockwell and his cohorts from the American Nazi Party. One of my friends who journeyed down from Irvington with me --Herb Asher -- proceeded to get into an intense discussion with one of the Nazi members, although it was a verbal exchange only. Rockwell inhaled on his pipe as his minions tried to stir things up verbally. I do not remember if it was the Capitol Police or some other security force, but there were law officers nearby. But there was no need for any direct intervention.
As time moved on, more and more people began to gather. A platform had been set up at the base of one side of the Washington Monument and singers began to use it. I remember that Ronnie Gilbert and Lee Hays from the singing group "The Weavers" were on the platform.. I think Ronnie Gilbert spoke a bit about her experiences over the years in activist causes.
To put the March in context, there was at that time the beginning of writings talking about the Old and New Left: the Old Left were those who often were involved in activities from the 1930’s labor strikes through the McCarthy period era; the New Left were the students and new young activists who brought new blood to the activist movements. In general, they were less dogmatic than the Old Left and found the Cold War taunts and efforts to label them as either Communist sympathizer or Communist as irrelevant if not outright humorous.
On the platform singing at one time were Bob Dylan, Joan Baez, Peter,Paul and Mary, Odetta and Ronnie Gilbert and Lee Hays. I do not ever remember that grouping all at one time on a stage before or since that occasion.. Dylan had just come out of the 1963 Newport Folk Festival touring with Joan Baez. I had seen them together at a Baez concert in Asbury Park about a month earlier. It was still a very young Dylan at his protest best in those days. His FREEWHEELING album had been released that year and ‘Blowing in the Wind” was getting lots of radio time in the Peter, Paul and Mary version. Baez was the larger presence then, and she helped introduce Dylan to her audiences.
In the general milling around the Washington Monument during introductions and changes in performers, I encountered a young man wearing a Duke University T-shirt. I introduced myself to Harry Boyte, who was planning to enroll at Duke that coming fall. Little did we know then that we would become active participants in the Chapel Hill Freedom Movement of 1963-64, would spend time on the protest lines and spend time in jail together, once with 38 of us crammed into a 6-person cell overnight after a non-violent, civil disobedience protest. Likewise, we did not know that one year later, also in August, we would be together again in St. Augustine, Florida, where SCLC and Dr. King committed themselves to integrating one of the most violent and Klan-dominated cities in the deep South.
Harry would become the head of the Duke University CORE (Congress of Racial Equality) chapter his freshman year. His father, Harry Boyte, Sr., was an aide to Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. at the time of the March, and Harry told me he had just come from dropping off to the press area a copy of the speech Dr. King was to deliver later that day. There was no sense at that point in the March that Dr.
King's address would become immortalized as the “I Have a Dream” speech, although I believe the “I Have a Dream segment” of Dr. King’s address was extemporaneous and not part of the prepared text that Harry delivered to the press. (I still have a copy of the The New York Times coverage of the March the next day with excerpts from each of the 13 speakers. In retrospect, it is interesting that no portion of the “I Have a Dream” segment was included in the Dr. King excerpts quoted by the Times the next day.)
Harry and I talked for awhile and eventually parted ways. The crowd was steadily growing near the platform area. Buses were coming from all points into the Mall area. Many church and community groups had rented them for the occasion and it was soon apparent that there was a very, very large gathering in the making. Meanwhile, there were introductions of various groups that had walked or driven up from the South to be on hand. There was special recognition for the groups from the deep South that were able to make it to the March, many traveling many days to be there for the occasion. I have some box camera snap shots that were taken around the stage that day, although they are very basic and not the best of resolutions. My memory is vague about what time the March actually began. By then, the protest signs that are in evidence in photos of the March had been passed out and slowly the crowd began to move from the Washington Monument to the Lincoln Memorial on their own.
It was an exceedingly hot and humid day and it took its toll on some of the marchers. A number passed out from the heat. As I remember it, many of the whites were dressed more casually. The African-Americans were for the most part more formally attired in dresses and suits. There was an air of the ceremonial and high purpose about the occasion.
For me, having worked with others in relative isolation doing some civil rights activities in the Durham area, it was inspiring to see so many people, black and white, marching together for a common cause. I had never been in such a large group before that was addressing a social issue. The presence of so many groups from cities and towns that already had gained prominence because of civil rights struggles was impressive. It brought a sense of gathered and common purpose and provided a visual and physical presence to the scope and depth of the civil rights movement. I think it gave all of us who participated in the March an awareness of how much our small efforts were part of a much broader movement. Victor Hugo had once said nothing is so powerful as an idea whose time has come. It was very much in that spirit that the March gave renewed energy and commitment to the struggles.
I have heard others say how the March and Dr. King’s speech were responsible for their “criminal” records in the ensuing few years. That was true for me as well. In the spirit of the times, when the light of national and international media assisted immensely in bringing to the larger public consciousness the inequities of existing laws and the racism of existing attitudes, the March united and helped define a Movement that would change America.
Carolyn Giomi in San Francisco, 1957
Here is a black and white photo of the three J's in 1957, with Carolyn Giomi (our second cousin once removed) on the roof of their apartment building in San Francisco. That was a wonderful trip for our family, and we remembered Carolyn with great fondness in the subsequent years. Her mother, Nevart (Neva) Eguinian Giomi, and Aunt Zabelle Eguinian Hansen were Grandma Kedersha's* first cousins. Carolyn's Grandfather (Haigag Eguinian) had been an important Armenian newspaper publisher, first in Jersey City, NJ in the late 1800's and then in Fresno, California.**
My Grandma told me that her uncle Eguinian had offered (back in the early 1900's) to arrange a marriage for her to a "nice Armenian man" in California if she would travel to California from Diyarbakir, Turkey. Grandma declined and married Grandpa Kedersha (also an arranged marriage) because she did not want to leave her widowed mother. In the end, she left her mother for America in 1912 with her husband, ended up living in New Jersey, and never saw her mother again. She told me countless times while we washed dishes together how much she regretted the decision not to go to California.
* Almast Bakalian Kedersha, 1892-1986, was the daughter of Kevork Bakalian and Takui Eguinian, sister of Haigag. She was born in Diyarbakir, Turkey. She married Jacob Kedersha of the same city in 1911, and they arrived in the USA in 1913.
** Carolyn recently filled me in on the details of Haigag Eguinian's life and career. Haigag Eguinian became a US Citizen in April 1888 at Jersey City. He married Azniv Altounian on September 7, 1902 at Trinity Armenian Church in Fresno, CA. When he died of heart failure at the age 9f 42, he left two daughters, Nevart (7) and Zabelle (14). They and their mother moved to San Francisco after their father's death. Haigag published Nor Giank (New Life) in New Jersey and upon relocateding to Fresno, published Nor Or (New Day) which is still being published in Armenian. Publication moved to Los Angeles 10/27/64-2/17/87, and then to Altadena CA 2/20/87 to the present. Haigag's daughter donated her father's papers to UCLA in April, 1976.
* Almast Bakalian Kedersha, 1892-1986, was the daughter of Kevork Bakalian and Takui Eguinian, sister of Haigag. She was born in Diyarbakir, Turkey. She married Jacob Kedersha of the same city in 1911, and they arrived in the USA in 1913.
** Carolyn recently filled me in on the details of Haigag Eguinian's life and career. Haigag Eguinian became a US Citizen in April 1888 at Jersey City. He married Azniv Altounian on September 7, 1902 at Trinity Armenian Church in Fresno, CA. When he died of heart failure at the age 9f 42, he left two daughters, Nevart (7) and Zabelle (14). They and their mother moved to San Francisco after their father's death. Haigag published Nor Giank (New Life) in New Jersey and upon relocateding to Fresno, published Nor Or (New Day) which is still being published in Armenian. Publication moved to Los Angeles 10/27/64-2/17/87, and then to Altadena CA 2/20/87 to the present. Haigag's daughter donated her father's papers to UCLA in April, 1976.
Samuel Skelton and The Mayflower
A story from our childhood, as related by our mother over the years, is that an ancestor of Great Grandmother Elvira Andrews Shute (1865-1951) came to America on the Mayflower. Mother (Alice M. Kedersha Lovell), a first generation American of Armenian/Assyrian heritage, was quite proud of her children's "eligibility" on father's side for the "Daughters of the Mayflower," (as she called it) trusting always that we would never deign to join such an uppity organization.
This tantalizing tidbit of our ancestry led me to become a personal history detective. Could I verify our blue blood ancestry, thereby truly rejecting uppityness by refusing to join, or would I find out that the story was apocryphal, leaving us just motley Americans like the rest?
I spent at least 15 years searching through our Massachusetts roots to flesh out the family tree on our father's (William E. Lovell) side. We are lucky that Massachusetts was his parents' birthplace, because no other state has a vital records system dating back to its beginning. The New England Historical Genealogical Society in Boston is a central repository of records or indexes to them. Nowadays they are online. And, a major work, The Great Migration, covering the period 1620-1635 has been indexed and can be searched on the NEHGS website.
So I did.
Bottom line: it does NOT look good for our direct ancestors arriving on the Mayflower.
Do not despair, though. We are not Johnny Come Latelys! Oh, no. We descend directly from the Reverend Samuel Skelton, pastor of the First Church of Salem, Massachusetts, the first church established by the Massachusetts Bay Colony. The Massachusetts Bay Company got a charter to establish a colony and arranged for 6 ships (with about 200 passengers in all) to sail from England and Leiden, Holland in 1629: the George Bonaventure, Talbot, Lyon's Whelp, Mayflower, Four Sisters, and Pilgrim. (Pilgrim was captured by the French and never made it to America.) The Reverend Sam was on the Bonaventure, but I bet he waved to the passengers on the deck of the Mayflower as they bobbed the Atlantic together. Is that a close enough connection to the Mayflower?
Our guy Skelton, a Puritan cleric from Linconshire,
educated at Cambridge University, was a man of letters who served as the first Pastor of the First Church of Salem, the very first Puritan church in America.
This is it, people! The First Church (courtesy of Library of Congress archives). Roger Williams worked as a teacher in Skelton's church briefly in 1630, (American Geneologist, 1951, vol 28) and became Pastor after Rev Sam's death in 1634. Then he moved on to establish Rhode Island.
More important to us, however, is that the historical records of the Massachusetts Bay Colony state that the Reverend Skelton put in a lot of effort to maintain close ties to the Pilgrims at Plymouth. Yes, those Pilgrims. Well, he didn't arrive in 1620, and he didn't arrive ON the Mayflower, but he arrived WITH the Mayflower and he knew some of the Pilgrims.
Most important for us, Skelton had four children, so we probably have many many distant cousins with whom we share his Puritan blood. (His youngest, the only one born in America, is our route to Skelton.)
I learned about our Skelton lineage early in 2012, when the NEHGS Great Migration database came on line.
And the Fall 2012 issue of American Ancestors (pp20-24) has a summary of the "Winthrop Fleet" sailings in 1629 and 1630. You can learn more about Samuel Skelton in Wikipedia.
What does it mean to be a Puritan? I never cared about it in my American History classes. I still don't. But it is fun to consider what motivations induced these people to leave England and set up in a cold, hostile and isolated world (sorry, Massachusetts). The King of England was running out of patience with the Puritans, so fear is a great motivator. But Skelton also received a few hundred acres of prime farm land near Salem. Was the Rev. Sam in it at least partly for the wealth? Or was it all Puritanism? (I hope the former...the latter is scary.)
This tantalizing tidbit of our ancestry led me to become a personal history detective. Could I verify our blue blood ancestry, thereby truly rejecting uppityness by refusing to join, or would I find out that the story was apocryphal, leaving us just motley Americans like the rest?
I spent at least 15 years searching through our Massachusetts roots to flesh out the family tree on our father's (William E. Lovell) side. We are lucky that Massachusetts was his parents' birthplace, because no other state has a vital records system dating back to its beginning. The New England Historical Genealogical Society in Boston is a central repository of records or indexes to them. Nowadays they are online. And, a major work, The Great Migration, covering the period 1620-1635 has been indexed and can be searched on the NEHGS website.
So I did.
Bottom line: it does NOT look good for our direct ancestors arriving on the Mayflower.
Do not despair, though. We are not Johnny Come Latelys! Oh, no. We descend directly from the Reverend Samuel Skelton, pastor of the First Church of Salem, Massachusetts, the first church established by the Massachusetts Bay Colony. The Massachusetts Bay Company got a charter to establish a colony and arranged for 6 ships (with about 200 passengers in all) to sail from England and Leiden, Holland in 1629: the George Bonaventure, Talbot, Lyon's Whelp, Mayflower, Four Sisters, and Pilgrim. (Pilgrim was captured by the French and never made it to America.) The Reverend Sam was on the Bonaventure, but I bet he waved to the passengers on the deck of the Mayflower as they bobbed the Atlantic together. Is that a close enough connection to the Mayflower?
Our guy Skelton, a Puritan cleric from Linconshire,
educated at Cambridge University, was a man of letters who served as the first Pastor of the First Church of Salem, the very first Puritan church in America.
More important to us, however, is that the historical records of the Massachusetts Bay Colony state that the Reverend Skelton put in a lot of effort to maintain close ties to the Pilgrims at Plymouth. Yes, those Pilgrims. Well, he didn't arrive in 1620, and he didn't arrive ON the Mayflower, but he arrived WITH the Mayflower and he knew some of the Pilgrims.
Most important for us, Skelton had four children, so we probably have many many distant cousins with whom we share his Puritan blood. (His youngest, the only one born in America, is our route to Skelton.)
I learned about our Skelton lineage early in 2012, when the NEHGS Great Migration database came on line.
And the Fall 2012 issue of American Ancestors (pp20-24) has a summary of the "Winthrop Fleet" sailings in 1629 and 1630. You can learn more about Samuel Skelton in Wikipedia.
What does it mean to be a Puritan? I never cared about it in my American History classes. I still don't. But it is fun to consider what motivations induced these people to leave England and set up in a cold, hostile and isolated world (sorry, Massachusetts). The King of England was running out of patience with the Puritans, so fear is a great motivator. But Skelton also received a few hundred acres of prime farm land near Salem. Was the Rev. Sam in it at least partly for the wealth? Or was it all Puritanism? (I hope the former...the latter is scary.)
Graduation from Florence Avenue School 1958
Here are a few photos I found of me and some of my 8th grade friends at my party celebrating our 1958 graduation from Florence Avenue School, Irvington, NJ.
Who were these young men and ladies?
Some I can recognize: (left to right)
Rose Paragano
??? (hidden behind Rose)
Linda Goode (partially hidden)
Judy Lovell
Billy Famula (a delicious guy to a 13 year old girl!)
Herbie Eichorn (in back row)
Terry Green
Roberta Spagnola
Ann Forte
Carolyn Heerwagen (???)
???
???
Front Row of boys -
???
Paul Geyer (proving that men get better looking every year they live!)
???
John (Buddy) Mahler - my heart throb in 5th grade.
William Fiore - where are you, today, William? Your were my Nemesis. You bloodied my nose in 2nd grade, you stuck me with a pencil in 5th grade (I still have the blue mark in my arm), you blackmailed me in 3rd grade... To paraphrase Michael Caine in "Dirty Rotten Scoundrels", "Wasn't he wonderful?"
????
Apologies to the ????'s You were all adorable. Isn't Rose's dress spectacular? I wish I could tell her how much I loved her sweetness. But she is gone.
Some I can recognize: (left to right)
Rose Paragano
??? (hidden behind Rose)
Linda Goode (partially hidden)
Judy Lovell
Billy Famula (a delicious guy to a 13 year old girl!)
Herbie Eichorn (in back row)
Terry Green
Roberta Spagnola
Ann Forte
Carolyn Heerwagen (???)
???
???
Front Row of boys -
???
Paul Geyer (proving that men get better looking every year they live!)
???
John (Buddy) Mahler - my heart throb in 5th grade.
William Fiore - where are you, today, William? Your were my Nemesis. You bloodied my nose in 2nd grade, you stuck me with a pencil in 5th grade (I still have the blue mark in my arm), you blackmailed me in 3rd grade... To paraphrase Michael Caine in "Dirty Rotten Scoundrels", "Wasn't he wonderful?"
????
Apologies to the ????'s You were all adorable. Isn't Rose's dress spectacular? I wish I could tell her how much I loved her sweetness. But she is gone.
Florence Avenue School Yearbook - 1958
I was just playing around trying to figure out how to show a bunch of scanned historical photos using YouTube. So, here, for what it's worth, is the UN-COPYRIGHTED 1958 yearbook of the 8th grade graduation class of Florence Avenue School, Irvington, NJ. Looking back at these faces from a vantage point of more than 50 years had me teary eyed. How cute all those little boys were. How sweet the girls. They remind me of my own grandchildren and their friends. We wuz innocent.
The video, consisting of page after page of photos, is quite long because I moved over all the pictures slowly. I could have used Photoshop to create separate jpg files of each scanned photo and then created a slide show on YouTube with 2-second shots. That would have made a much shorter video. (Reminds me of the old adage about writing: "I didn't have the time to make it short.") Click here to enjoy when you have the time.
The video, consisting of page after page of photos, is quite long because I moved over all the pictures slowly. I could have used Photoshop to create separate jpg files of each scanned photo and then created a slide show on YouTube with 2-second shots. That would have made a much shorter video. (Reminds me of the old adage about writing: "I didn't have the time to make it short.") Click here to enjoy when you have the time.
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