Aunt Died: Mary Feinour Obituary

17-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:

Saturday, July 20, 1912:  Today seem oh so lonesome and sad. Ma and Pa went to attend a funeral. The deceased was my aunt. We kiddies kept house and did the little duties that were left to us.

Mary Feinour Obituary. Source: Milton Evening Standard (July 19, 1912). Click to enlarge.

 

MRS. MARY FEINOUR

DIES AT OTTAWA

Mrs. Mary Feinour, widow of Mathias Feinour, died yesterday afternoon at 12:30 o’clock, at the home of her brothers, Samuel and George Muffley, at Ottawa, Limestone township Montour county, following an illness of several months, part of which time she was in a hospital at Williamsport.

Mrs. Feinour was aged 56 years. She is survived by a son, Edward Duglas. Also by the following brothers and sisters: Dr.Oscar Muffley, of Turbotville; Albert, of Watsontow; Asher, of Pottsgrove; and Samuel and George, at whose home she died; Mrs. George Walters, of Montandon, and Mrs. Samuel Rhone, of McEwensville.

The funeral will take place tomorrow morning at ten o’clock from the home at Ottawa. Interment will be made at Watontown.

Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:

The aunt who died was Mary Feinour. She was a sister of Grandma’s father Albert.

She must have been reasonably prominent because her obituary was at the top center of the front page of the Milton Evening Standard—yet I feel like she’d had a difficult life.

Mary was a widow who lived with her two bachelor brothers. According to the 1910 census her two children, 19-year-old S. Kathryn and 14-year-old John, were also part of the household. But the obituary only mentions one child–Edward. (Something seems inconsistent between the census and the obituary, but nonetheless I wonder if she had a daughter who died.)

Mary is buried next to her parents in the Watsontown Cemetery. I do not know where her husband is buried.

(I’m not even sure how her name is spelled, it’s Feinour in the obituary and Fienour on the gravestone.)

I’ve been fascinated by Mary for awhile–though Grandma’s diary entries always focused on her unmarried uncles and not on Mary. I’ve mentioned Mary in two previous posts:

Two Bachelor Uncles

Went Visiting: Only One Uncle at Home

I asked my father if he knew anything about Mary or her children. He didn’t.

Mary is very tangential to my genealogical research. Yet, ever since I first saw her tombstone—and realized that she wasn’t buried next to her husband–I’ve wanted to know more about her.

I know it’s a rabbit hole and I don’t have the time to do extensive research on Mary—but maybe, just maybe, someday I’ll learn more of her story. If I ever do, I’ll share it with you.

Brain Getting Full of Rubbish

17-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today: 

Friday, July 19, 1912:  My brain must be getting full of rubbish, that I cannot even remember the happenings from one day to the next.

Recent photo of McEwensville.

Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:

The way this diary entry is written almost makes it seem like Grandma forgot to write anything in the diary a hundred years ago today–and then tried to remember what had happened the following day.

Once before Grandma wrote that she sometimes did two entries at the same time:

By jingo if I haven’t forgotten what I did today. Just what I did several days ago. You see, sometimes it happens that I don’t always feel like writing in this diary every evening, so I wait until the next evening and make two entries at one time.

May 9, 1911

Grandma must have been in the doldrums of summer.

Reo Car Ad: How Long Does it Take to Drive From New York to San Francisco?

17-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today: 

Wednesday, July 17, 1912:  About the same as yesterday.

Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later

Sounds like another boring summer day. I’ve been posting Grandma’s diary entries for more than a year and a half now. In that time period she’s never gone more than a few miles from her home.

Grandma went  to Milton (which was about 5 miles from her home); to Turbotville (which was about 4 miles); to Montandon (which was about 8 miles); to Ottawa –Limestone Township, Montour County (about 8 miles). She also regularly went to McEwensville and Watsontown—both of which were about a mile from the Muffly farm.

Did Grandma ever dream of seeing the world?

Reo Car Advertisement
Source: Farm Journal (April 1911)

Reo

$1250

Top and Merger Automatic Windshield extra

New York to San Francisco

10 days 15 hours 13 minutes

steady going and not a wrench touched to the Reo engine.

That’s your answer to every question you can ask about the Reo.

The Reo must have speed and power, to keep going like that over bad roads and hard climbs found in the Great American Desert and the Rocky Mountains.

The Reo must have strength, to stand the constant and tough strain.

The Reo must be reliable. A car that stands a test like that, and then breaks the record from New York to Los Angeles, and then hill-climbing record up Mount Hamilton, and then the record from Topeka to Kansas City, and still is in perfect condition—that is the perfect proof of reliability.

Comfort?  Prove it yourself.  Get the nearest Reo dealer to take you for a ride.

Send for the catalogue and “Reo and the Farmer.”  Plain facts.

R M Owen & Co.  General Sales Agent for Reo Motor Company.

You can do it with a Reo.

Whew—10 days 15 hours 13 minutes sounds brutal.

According to Mapquest, today you can get on Interstate Route 80 in New York City and end up in San Francisco 1 day 19 hours and 48 minutes later (assuming you drive straight through).

1912 Jell-O Advertisement

17-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:

Tuesday, July 16, 1912:  I don’t just exactly remember what I really did today.

Jell-O with black raspberries

Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:

Since Grandma didn’t write much a hundred years ago today, I was thinking about what to write, and remembered that a reader commented several weeks ago that many people were getting ice boxes in the early 1900s—and that Jell-O was becoming popular.

I recalled that I had seen an advertisement for Jell-O and flipped through a couple magazines hunting it.

I found this advertisement  in the July, 1912 issue of Ladies Home Journal.

For Summer Appetites

In hot weather when the appetite is just a little off, and there is a peculiar craving for something cool and satisfying, nothing touches the spot like

JELL-O

It is so deliciously cool, so light, so wholesome, so nutritious—so tempting and good every way—that it satisfies the summer appetite as nothing else can.

Fruit of almost any kind can be added, as the housewife chooses, or left out, and in either case the dessert will be delightful.

There is no other dessert worth serving that can be made without cooking, and in hot weather no housewife wants to cook and fuss more than is necessary.

A Jell-O dessert can made in a minute.

Seven delightful flavors: Strawberry, Raspberry, Cherry, Lemon, Orange, Peach, Chocolate.

10 cents a package at all grocers’

The splendid recipe book, “Desserts of the World” illustrated in ten colors and gold, will be sent to all who write us and ask for it.

THE GENESEE PURE FOOD CO.,

Le Roy, N.Y, and Bridgeburg, Can.

Injured While Playing Croquet

17-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:

Monday, July 15, 1912:  We went up to Oakes’ this evening. I played crouquet with the other players, but such playing as I did was rather shocking. If I didn’t get a game I did get a sore eye, which resulted from tossing a mallet in the air and trying to catch it with my hands. Needless to say it first came in contact with my eye and second with my hand.

Croquet by Homer Winslow
Croquet by Homer Winslow

Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:

Ouch! Sounds like Grandma was showing off or fooling around. Was she bored while she waited for her turn?

I bet the embarrassment when the mallet hit her eye was worse than the pain. I can almost imagine what her sister Ruth might have said.  🙂

Church Bulletin Fans

17-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today: 

Sunday, July 14, 1912:  Went to Sunday School this afternoon. I was almost melting by the time I got there.

Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:

Did Grandma fold a church bulletin to make a fan to cool herself ?

Fast forward 50 or so years to a time when Grandma actually was a grandmother and I was a small child. . .

I can remember sitting on hard pews in Messiah Lutheran Church in McEwensville on hot summer days.

To cool (and entertain) myself, I’d make fans out of church bulletins. Inevitably I’d accidently drop the fan onto the pew in front of me. And, Grandma would smile, pick it up, and give it back to me.

Wading and Swimming

17-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today: 

Saturday, July 13, 1912: My calling was out in the field today. I was glad when it was over and I was at leisure to do something.

Recent photo of the stream that flows through the farm Grandma grew up on.

Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:

Sounds like Grandma had to again watch cows or do some other type of field work. Thank goodness she apparently had time to do something fun—at least I hope it was fun; she only wrote that it was “something.”

I love to swim on hot summer days. I don’t think that Grandma ever learned how to swim, but she may have taken her shoes off and waded in the creek. The water would have felt good in the days before electric fans and air conditioners.

A book published in 1911 called Outdoor Sports by Claude Miller discussed the importance of confidence when swimming:

. . . The lack of confidence is disastrous. I have known girls who could swim perfectly well in the shallow but could not keep up at all in water out of their depth. And yet they have not been touching the bottom in the shallow water, but they could if they wished.

Learning to swim in water that is over your head is really better, though it is more “scary” at first. If you do learn in that way you can there-after look upon the deepest water with confident scorn.