August Carl HOHNKE 1882-1953

At Weis Library Methodist Church Cemetery, Fairview, near, Erie, PA: August Carl Hohnke, 1882-1953, and Cleo B. (Burkett), 1903-1977. Now I know when August died, and hopefully, I can obtain his obit. Actually the birth dates of the couple are from other sources; the tombstone inscription gave only the death year. August was the 5th of 6 children born to Julius Hohnke & Tillie Sunburg, both of Prussia. Family immigrated 1884 to PA when August was only two years old. Cleo was August's 2nd wife. They had one child, August, the Junior. The Old and New Churches are in background.

It is time for music and dance in the old time way

Oh, about a decade or two ago, I spent months traveling around to Scottish Festivals and Fiddler's conventions in southwestern Virginia and North Carolina both learning and playing old time tunes on the banjo- claw hammer style. I also camped at "The Place", a hostel on the Appalachian Trail at Damascus, VA. Here is a sample of pictures and music from those days, led off by a couple of my ancestors who also played music. I am glad that some of my ancestors took the time and effort to learn how to play a musical instrument. I believe a lot of people would like to do the same, but they just do not have the time- or don't want to take the time.



Spring is just two days away, the sun is traveling north and warming things up, and the flowers are blooming. It's time to make up the Spring and early summer schedule for music and dance. You can type in "festivals" in the search bar of this blog and go to my previous entry in which I listed a few links to specific web sites of old time and bluegrass music festivals. But first, I want to emphasize a few nearby events that I will be writing on my own calendar- a sort of wish list. So, here we go.

May 22-24, 2009, Fiddler's Grove, at Union Grove, NC.

June 5-6, 2009, Mount Airy, NC.

Jul 29 to Aug 2, 2009, Appalachian String Band Festival "Clifftop" at Camp Washington Carver, West Virginia. I took a nice video of old time clogger- see at www.youtube.com/bobkramp

Aug 3-8, 2009, 74th Old Time Fiddlers Convention, Galax, VA.

May 15-17, 2009, is Appalachian Trial Days at Damascus, VA. There is a contra dance Saturday night and FREE showers in the trailer behind the First Baptist Church yard. There are also several eating contests, dog shows, and seminars about the AT. Damascus is probably the most hiker-friendly place on the AT, and the "end to enders" who started out early Spring in Georgia might be arriving in town about the middle of May.

There is a whole lot of fiddling going on at Scottish Festivals, and the The Association of Scottish Games and Festivals has a list of Scottish festivals grouped by state on their web site.

Apr 17-19, 2009, Loch Norman Games at Rural Hill Farm, NC. Lake Norman is just north of Charlotte, NC.

Apr 25, 2009, Colonial Capital Scottish Festival, Newbern, NC. Newbern was indeed the capital of the North Carolina Colony

May 1 and 2, 2009, Triad Highland Games, Greensboro, NC.

May 8-9, 2009, Celtic Festival Highland Games at Historic Bethabara Park, Winston-Salem, NC.

July 8-12, 2009, Scottish Games at Grandfather Mountain, NC. Kinda pricey these days.

My Father and me, a physical comparison at the same age

I've been obsessed over the last MONTH with efforts to create a Slide Show of my Kramp Line which I can burn to a DVD and see on Television- Ken Burns Style. I have about 600 images in the show at present. Some of the images have taken hours to create in software programs such as Adobe Photoshop Elements or Microsoft's Power Point. One such image appears below- a comparison of my father and myself at about 1 or 2 years old. We seem to share many of the same genes, for example the eyes, mouth and chin. However, my father had a deep fold in his upper lip which I did not inherit. Incidentally, the chin was great for balancing a handle and broom, a feat of which we have demonstrated for many of our descendants. My Dad could also balance a kitchen chair by one of its legs, but I think he had thicker neck muscles than I did.

There is a story regarding the picture of me in this collage. The picture is one of seven in a series of different poses photographed by a Mr. Shaneyfelt. He lived in my parent's neighborhood at Auburn Garden Apartments, Del Ray, VA. The year was 1943, and the country was in the middle of WW II. Money was very tight, and there was little work for Mr. Shaneyfelt who was a professional photographer. So, for the love of his craft and his profession, Mr. Shaneyfelt took the pictures of me and practically donated them to my mother. Wouldn't it be neat if one Mr. Shaneyfelt's kin searched his name on Google and wound up here on this site and then contacted me. I would have to tell them that the donations of Mr. Shaneyfelt's photographs to my family were priceless.

Now, I must return to my Slide Show project. Sometimes you have to put everything aside for the time being in order to reach a particular goal. I apologize to my former friends and correspondents who used to know me. But, I am almost there, just a few more days, and then I will be back to my normal activities such as eating, bathing, sleeping, and of course- blogging.

Could you carrot for me Valentine, whoever you may be?

You probably don’t think that an old guy like me can recall a time way back in 4th grade, or vividly remember a romantic moment. However, I can very well remember one particular time my heart was all a flutter. The desks in our classroom were arranged into two semi-circular rows and there was this little girl- well, she was a big girl then- who sat directly across the room from me. I noticed after several days, SHE would be staring at me whenever I glanced her way. I remember her stare was so intense that I felt my face burn a little hotter, and then, my eyes would shy away to the front of the room. It seemed like she stared at me for hours. But it was OK, because she was really beautiful and I was flattered. Then one day I got the courage to stare right back at her. I wondered which one would back down first. Tick ... tick ... tick. I don’t know why I did it, but spontaneously, I wiggled my ears. This is an absolute talent that I don’t think everybody possesses, sort of similar to rolling one’s tongue. In any case, she smiled. No giggle, no laugh, just a big beautiful smile. Then she looked away. I won. I am surprised that the teacher didn’t notice- maybe she did, but I don’t remember that part. But I do remember there was a very nice Valentine card that came to me from our classroom Valentine box- the one decorated with red and white crepe paper with the red hearts glued on. Then summer vacation came and I never saw her again.

Junior High school: we had a two week dance class during Gym. It was the only Gym class we didn’t have to don white shorts, shirts, and socks. The boys lined up around the outside boundary of the basketball court. The girls came in from their locker room, walked around the line of boys, and stopped at the boy she decided to choose for a partner. I’m glad that the choosing process wasn’t reversed so that boys had to chose the girls. I think I’d still be circling. In any case, SHE stopped in front of me, blinking a pair of pretty, big brown eyes. And she chose me again and again for the next two weeks. We learned to jitterbug, waltz, Samba, and a few other forgettable dance steps. This was in the days before “dirty dancing” of course. Then summer vacation came again, but the close of summer was different this time.

I went to a new school in our district when school started in the Fall. And unbelievably, there SHE was, my old dance partner from the previous year. I thought with certainty from Heaven above that this was fate. We didn’t have any classes together but gossip traveled easily among our classmates and soon we were a couple. She had to take the school bus home, but I lived close enough to ride my bicycle. I would chase after her bus and she would obligingly sit by the rear window so we could have that last look for about 5 to 10 minutes depending how fast I could pedal that day. Together, over the next year school year, we had our first dance, first chaperoned date, and first serious kiss. And first heartbreak. The details aren’t so important to recall now, as I am sure most others have been down the same road. I can’t say whether or not ours could be classified as a “puppy love”, but apparently the puppy grew into a shaggy dog and ran away.

I could describe other loves in my life, but these earliest two were my favorites, probably because they didn’t grow to adult proportions. I loved the woman I married and had children with. And I also loved the woman of my second marriage. These were serious, hard-working relationships in which we really got to know one another and adapted to the good and the bad in our partnerships. Obviously, they did not last. So, do not tell me that love never dies. It does- in some cases at least. But I still believe that the DREAM of romance must always endure.

I went to my mail box today, Valentine’s Day. Inside it was dark and cold and empty.

Pedigree Ornament No. 10: my paternal Great Grandfather.

Thomas William Russell, born 1847, in the village of Holytown, Bothwell Parish, Lanarkshire, Scotland; died 1928, West Barnesboro (now Northern Cambria), Cambria County, Pennsylvania; buried International Order of Odd Fellows Cemetery (no marker), Brisbin, Clearfield Co., PA.

Pictured above is the former National Bank of Barnesboro (red-brick), in Cambria County, PA. But, you know how banks are these days. National Bank became Laurel Bank, and the latest is the Bank of Northern Cambria. Photo was taken in 1992, by Bob Kramp.

My father’s maternal grandfather, Thomas William Russell, spent his last couple of decades, 1900-1925, as a janitor at the National Bank of Barnesboro. He lived in an apartment in the basement of the bank. My uncle Russell Stryke remembers visiting his grandfather, Thomas. He said that Thomas spoke with a Scottish Brogue, and used the pronouns “thy and thee”.

Thomas was born in Scotland, but within a year, his family migrated to the coal fields of County Durham in northern England. Here, he met his English-born (Yorkshire) wife, Eleanor Hartley, and they had their first five children in County Durham. Unfortunately they also witnessed the death of their first two children who were girls. Thomas and all of his male siblings were coal miners. They immigrated to Pennsylvania about 1881, and Thomas in particular was joined by some of his in-laws, the HARTLEY and HESELTINE families.

Thomas and his kin first settled in Clearfield County, PA, and continued to mine coal. Although the mining industry was a dangerous place to work and labor strife occurred regularly, I believe the Russell families were somewhat better off than in England. There is some evidence that they bought land in Houtzdale and the materials to build their own houses. Thomas wanted his two sons not to become coal miners. Apparently they never did. Sons in the next generation were proprietors of grocery stores and movie theaters, laborers, and at least one of Thomas’ nephews became a Primitive Methodist Minister.

Unfortunately, Thomas' wife was relatively young, about 48 years, when she died. There were five children left in the household, aged 6 to 16 years. Thus, Thomas was an elderly widow during the times he spend living in the small apartment at the bank.

Being a coal miner and a bank janitor seem to be pretty humble occupations in my opinion. But I believe he did those jobs well and without complaint. There were activities of bygone days by which men judged their fellow man. For example, Thomas was one of the oldest members of the local Lodge of the Scottish Rite Masons. When I read Thomas Russell’s obituary, I can see why Robert Burns, Scotland’s favorite son, who is also known as the Ploughman Poet, was Thomas’ hero. Burns was born about 50 years before Thomas. As I read, I had a changed and respectful vision of the person who was my great grandfather though I never heard much about him from my close relatives. Below is an excerpt from Thomas’ obituary. In those days, in a small town, some obituaries of an honored citizen took up quite a bit of newsprint, thank goodness.

From The Barnesboro Star, Thursday, 10 Jan 1929, page 7:

"Death of Thomas Russell, Sr. He was a great student and lover of Bobby Burns, memorizing many of his poems.’ 'The Cotters Saturday Night', 'The Two Dogs', 'Man was Made to Mourn’, ‘The Wee Mouse’, and Burns' ‘Letters to his young friend’ were always at his tongue's end. He often said that when a small boy, his father who was somewhat of a poet himself, used to gather him, and the other children around his knee, and recite to them Burns' poems. All through his life, Burns was his constant friend and companion. Another of his favorites was the poem often quoted by Abraham Lincoln: ‘Why should the Spirits of the Mortals be Proud’ [by Robert Burns] and only a short time before he went to his bed, he surprised his friends by reciting this entire poem. Coming from a man of his years, a typical Scotchman (sic) with hoary head and of venerable appearance it created an impression on the minds of his hearers that they will never forget."

Thomas W. Russell, “with hoary head and of venerable appearance” sits to the left of his brother, Robert Russell, and their brother-in-law, Alexander Forsyth (m. Alma Emma, nee. Russell). The man on far left has not yet been identified. Photo was taken in Syracuse, New York, 1920. Thomas was about 73 years old; Robert, about 70 years.