My parents visited two more cemeteries in the Cincinnati area about a month ago. With the information they collected there, I’ve updated the map, which is included in this post. (If the plugin doesn’t work properly, try to view the map here.)

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Clarkspot Ancestor Graves in a larger map

For more information on my family’s history, visit my genealogy section.

A pair of events in 1959 highlight the change between the early and late 20th Century – changes that had been building in preceding years. These two events weren’t responsible for the economic shift, but they illustrate Scranton’s changing fortunes.

The Knox Mine Disaster (January 22) hastened the end of anthracite mining in the area. The bankruptcy of Scranton Lace (April 3), once one of the most prominent of the region’s laceworks and silk mills, indicated the impending end of another key industry in the region’s economy.

Interested in learning more? Contact the Lackawanna Historical Society to inquire about membership and request a copy of the Spring 2009 edition of The Lackawanna Historical Society Journal.

I’m not sure whether this is an economic slowdown, recession, reset, or whatever word you want to call it.

Sure, it’s bad. And every commentator wants to compare it to something: Early 1990s, Early 80s, 70s stagflation, Great Depression, Panic of 1873, etc. There’s no doubt that folks are aware – very aware – that the economy is in a difficult stretch. Not that we’re oblivious to past recessions, but this one has some teeth.

Maybe I’m paying more attention. But maybe there is something to all the talk that this is a turning point that will change how our system works.

I made some decisions to alter my saving and buying habits before everyone started to feel it. I’m looking at our apartment and wondering whether we should opt for a place that has a bit better infrastructure – say at least insulation in the attic. We’ve passed up a few of the kitchen gadgets. We’re paying down debt. We’re seeking our masters degrees. We’re trying to stay ahead of the knowledge economy.

I’m hoping we use the opportunity to make other changes though. Advanced degrees makes us look smarter, but dropping the land line for cell only makes sense. I’d love to back up my computer files to the cloud AND be able to get rid of all the paper I’ve lugged from apartment to apartment. I’d like to reduce our energy bills (and consumption) – through insulation and by monitoring when we run the washer and dryer. I’d like to eat out less and eat healthier at home.

As for the news? One of my colleagues was talking about something else, but could have been talking about this today: This is a great time to keep your head down. Keep busy and don’t look up.

I hadn’t delved into the history before because it isn’t the type of neighborhood I see myself settling in. I’m in a temporary residence during a transition in my life. My wife and I are getting established as a couple, and we’re developing a plan for what we want to carve out of our life together. This home is four walls that we’ll spend a few years in. Four walls where we’ll map out plans, prepare for the future, and begin our next steps. We rent a half of a house, and it’s a house to set a future rather than to study the past.

But it isn’t insulated, which is cold in the winter. And the pipes don’t always drain. They need to be replaced. The kitchen linoleum is peeling. The house is painted a horrible pink. But at least it’s faded and peeling. Almost all of the paint will be gone in another year. I don’t know it’s kept in this shape.

So one Saturday not long ago, I visited the historical society and began to search the old street directories and city maps. The house first appears in 1911 as the residence of a bartender. (It isn’t listed in the 1910 census.) There are only a few other houses on the block in the 1918 map. Turns out our neighborhood is Fairview Park, which sounds much nicer than it looks now. Most of the lots along the street are undeveloped lots (Fairview Park Land Company-owned. I wonder where the name comes from…).

The Bellevue Breaker was nearby as were some railyards for the DL&W. “You’re living in the heart of Wales over there. You know that, don’t you,” the society’s director offered after a quick scan of the surnames in 1915 directory.

So before coming inside today, I stood on the front porch shaking against the cold. I looked past the barely-running cars on the street, the deteriorating gutters, the missing shingles, the broken sidewalks, the flaking paint of the surrounding houses. There’s a nice view of South Side down the street. Between the neighbors’ houses, there’s a better view of downtown with the Hill and Green Ridge in the distance. For a few minutes, I could picture a different city, one in its prime while the neighborhood was still young.

On Inauguration Day, 2001, an analyst chimed in for a minute that what he (or she) was seeing was truly remarkable. It was monumental. For all of the angry feelings and political fights that followed the 2000 presidential election, the U.S. had a peaceful transfer of power.

The same thing will happen again in a few hours.

This doesn’t have anything to do with a party or a political belief. It’s just the realization that throughout this country’s history, it’s remained stable by transferring the reigns of executive leadership to a new person – sometimes from a different party. This happens without riots and revolutions without demonstrations and disobedience. The system proscribed more than 200 years ago is carried out in a regular fashion.

Simple. But really something remarkable when you think about the past 200 years’ worth of world history.

I’m the president of the local chapter of the Sons of the American Revolution. I became interested in the group’s genealogical and historical purposes when I discovered an ancestor who fought in the Revolutionary War. I’ve since found two more patriot ancestors – including one who carried the colonists’ flag during the Battle of Bunker Hill. The SAR is comprised of a number of older gentlemen, and our chapter is no different. Our local chapter is a small group that’s trying to find ways to get involved in the dozens of communities where we live. The territory we cover and the small number of young, active members makes many activities difficult. I’ve found my success in working with the state society.

The leadership of the state society meets quarterly to address routine business and review the reports and activities of officers, chapters, and committees. It’s always in need of host chapters for these meetings. I was offered the chance for my chapter to host a Board of Management meeting and recognized a way to try to engage my chapter members as well as introduce the state to the Revolutionary history of the Northeast corner of Pennsylvania. The board meeting was held November 7 and 8. I just finished the final reports and receipts. It was a great meeting. We finished in the black. And we had fantastic reviews from all the compatriots who I talked with as the activities were completed.

I thought I’d share a bit of the area’s Revolutionary history on here. To promote the event, the host chapter writes a short piece for the state’s magazine. Here’s what I wrote on the Wyoming Massacre (published in the Fall 2008 newsletter):

The Wyoming Monument commemorates the 1778 massacre of American colonists in the Wyoming Valley

The Wyoming Monument

The Wyoming Valley and Northeastern Pennsylvania were divided before the American Revolution. Pennsylvania settlers from Philadelphia and westward Connecticut settlers had battled for control of land. Both states pointed to their charters to claim the land that runs along the northern border of Pennsylvania. But the two sides found themselves in agreement with the advent of the Revolution.

The area escaped hostilities and fighting for the first few years of the American Revolution. But after surrendering a fort in Upstate New York in 1777, British troops had rallied local Iroquois tribes to join in raids. A year later, the British, Seneca, and Iroquois gathered near Pittston, Pennsylvania – about midway between modern Scranton and Wilkes-Barre. Pennsylvania and Connecticut settlers sent out calls for help and sought refuge in a string of forts in the Wyoming Valley. Determined to save their crops, a band of untrained farmers organized and vowed to help any local Continental forces in dispersing the threat.

On July 3, 1778, the American troops led by Col. Zebulon Butler, left Forty Fort to face off against the British. Butler led about 375 men up the western side of the Susquehanna River. Scouts reported the British were retreating. In fact the British forces, led by Major John Butler, began burning Fort Wintermute and Fort Jenkins as they learned the Americans were advancing. British troops lay in wait with their Indian allies as the Continental soldiers rushed forward. The patriots didn’t realize the trap until they were just a few hundred feet away. Indians and British soldiers leapt out and ambushed the Americans. The inexperienced Americans misunderstood the order to form a line as a retreat.

The Americans were overrun. While some died in battle, many more were killed in the legendary

Less than a month before this picture, a bolt of lightning struck the flag pole near the Wyoming Monument

massacre by their Indian captors. Only 174 survived and returned to the fort. When the British soldiers left the area in the following days, the survivors and colonial settlers fled. Those who fled repeated the stories of the atrocities the Iroquois and Seneca inflicted on the captured Americans. Those rumors would help fuel the Americans’ desire to send the Sullivan Expedition to destroy Indian villages in New York the next year.

As the signature Revolutionary War battle in Northeastern Pennsylvania, the Wyoming Massacre has been long-remembered in the Wyoming Valley. Historical accounts show that a group began to build a monument in 1832 to honor the patriots who died in the battle and subsequent massacre. The monument was finished around 1843. Remains of some of the fallen soldiers are buried beneath the 63-foot tall memorial.

About 35 years later, another group formed to recognize the 100^th anniversary of the battle. The Wyoming Commemorative Association was formed in 1878 and hosted President Rutherford B. Hayes as the principal speaker at the initial memorial service. Since then, the association has gathered descendants of those involved at the battle, the Revolution, and other patriotic and community associations for an annual memorial service on July 4.