Photo by Ray Ernst
This is my great-grandmother, Bessie Muriel Gray Ernst. When I knew her, she was nearly blind, and I would "help" her walk up the stairs. She made me count them, so I would learn. She was very patient and sweet, and would defend my "piano playing" to my grumpy grandfather. She would invite me up to her room to try perfume samples, and she would show me the students that walked through the University District in Seattle, and say, "Stay away from those hippies!"
It was 1969. I was four. My father was in Vietnam, and my mother lived close to my dad's family, in Seattle. Although I remember her as a very sweet, gentile woman, often smiling, always polite, I didn't really know much about her life until I was an adult, and I got a pile of her stuff.
Stuff is a funny thing. You see T.V. shows all about stuff. There are people buried in stuff on hoarding shows. There are people buying matching, expensive stuff on home improvement shows. There are whole shows just selling stuff. As a twelve-year-old, my family's stuff began to trickle down to me. There was so much more of it when I was younger. Much of it seems to have disappeared over the years. I remember doilies, quilts, cameras, baby clothes, bud vases, tools, dolls, cups, photos. So many things, from many branches of my family tree, but most of it, from Bessie. It made me wonder about her. Why was it important that her juice glasses get passed down? Why her bean pot? Her double boiler? Her table cloth? I suppose some of it had to do with the Depression. They all took care of their things, and used them forever. I saw all of these things as a curiosity. I still do, but I also saw them as something of a burden. Some of her things are interesting, and over a hundred years old, but I am sure my little millennial is not going to take them to her new home. Part of me wants to stop keeping the things as if they are precious reminders, and just use them. Part of me, doesn't.
So, I thought I would start a little blog about the things. It might help me to move past them. To record them, so they have less power in my actual life.
Here's a little background. Bessie was born February 26, 1888, in Arborville, Nebraska. She had a sister, Nellie, and her parents were Rosecrans Gray, and Fanny English. The story was that Bessie was born in a mud hut, but there are many photos of her with her family, in very nice attire, so my assumption is that they were not there long. Rosecrans was born in Kentucky into a large family. He worked for railroads, and eventually became a jeweler, repairing clocks. He settled in Spokane, WA with his family, and I found notices in the newspaper about their attendance at various social functions.
I was told that Bessie was not allowed to play, as a child but was taught to sew, tight, even little stitches, and to keep scrapbooks, and engage in various needlework. She graduated High School in 1908, the same year she married my great-grandfather, Glen Forest Ernst, after a two-year secret engagement. From all accounts no one wanted her to marry him, especially her father. Glen had a temper, and was a work-a-holic. He was a building contractor, designing, building, and then renting and managing buildings all around Spokane and Seattle. The rent from the buildings sustained Bessie for most of her life, after Glen died, in 1954. Glen's Parents had owned Hotels in the area.
From everything I have of hers, Bessie was very traditional, and proper. She actively sought out family history and pictures, in an attempt to record it. I feel it is possible that much of this was lost to time, but I do have photo albums, scrap books, and some letters and greeting cards.
Here is where it begins. I will post my great-grandmother's things, and probably things belonging to other relatives. I'll try to offer what I know, or what I've heard. I think it is unlikely that I have relatives out there that know of these people. Because my Grandfather was an only child, and my father had one biological brother who was mentally challenged, and a brother who was adopted, and then I myself was an only child...the family tree is skinny here. Nevertheless. Here are Bessie's Things. More to come.
