The Orphan Train Rider

Oliver-NordmarkWas someone in your family a part of history? Recently, at the Self-Publishing Book Expo in New York  I met Donna Nordmark Aviles, a memoirist who has written three books about her grandfather, Oliver Nordmark. Oliver was an orphan in America’s “Orphan Train Movement.”  He traveled from New York City to Kansas in 1906 on what came to be known as an “Orphan Train.”

Even though my parents and grandparents were born and raised in Kansas, they never mentioned the Orphan Trains. In the years between 1854 and 1929, The Children’s Aid Society and the New York Foundling Hospital developed a program whereby up to an estimated 200,000 orphaned, abandoned, or homeless children—mainly in New York City and Boston—traveled by train to adoptive homes in 47 of the 48 states then comprising the United States. The children came to be known as “Orphan Train Riders.”

Fly Little Bird, Fly!

In Fly Little Bird, Fly! Donna Nordmark Aviles tells the true story of her grandfather Oliver’s early life as an orphan in New York City.  Fly Little Bird, Fly! won the National Best Books 2009 Award.

 

Beyond The Orphan Train

In Beyond the Orphan Train, Donna Nordmark Aviles describes her grandfather’s life as an Orphan Train Rider. Beyond the Orphan Train won the National Best Books 2009 Award.

 

Peanut Butter for Cupcakes

Aviles’ third book, Peanut Butter for Cupcakesfocuses on Oliver as an adult. The story describes how he survived with his six children during the 1930s, after the sudden and tragic death of his young wife, Estella. Peanut Butter for Cupcakes was a 2009 Next Generation Indie Book Award Finalist and National Best Books 2009 Award Finalist.

Orphan Train Riders were told not to talk about their past lives. Their collective experiences disappeared from consciousness. Gradually, however, their descendants began to unearth and honor their past.  There is now a museum dedicated to the Orphan Train children, The National Orphan Train Complex, Inc., located in Concordia, Kansas.

Was someone in your family a part of history? Have you asked questions about what happened? Friday, November 27, 2009, is StoryCorps’ National Day of Listening. Its goal is to encourage you to take an hour and record a conversation with someone who is important to you. Why not set aside some time over Thanksgiving to ask, first, whether your loved one played a part in history? If so, what was it like? Were they in a war? Were they dislocated in a natural disaster? Did they take part in protests? Did they witness a famous event?

Let me know how it goes. What questions did you ask?

Happy Thanksgiving!

Memoirs on Overpowering Topics

At the Self-Publishing Book Expo I attended recently in New York, I met three women whose memoirs successfully tackle these potentially overpowering topics:

  1. leaving your country of origin;
  2. growing up in a faraway land;
  3. being raped or sexually abused.

Past experiences such as these may seem too big to write about comfortably. But perspective changes everything. Check out these three memoirs and how each woman’s viewpoint has shaped her storytelling.

  [Read more...]

How Train Wreck Got Its Name

 

Selecting food as a memoir topic is always a good way to get un-stuck if you are stuck. Food looms large in our childhood memories and brings back so many associations. For example, I always think of Mom when I see a lima bean. She cooked them until their insides were sawdust. I wrapped them in my napkin. I stuffed the napkin into the top of the table leg. At the top, just under the table, the leg attached to the table with three prongs, making a little nest. I got away with disposing of the lima beans that way for awhile. But my brother, Tom, wasn’t as lucky. He says he dumped his lima beans down the garbage disposal, but Mom found out and served them to him again the next day. 

 

In “Hungry Men” in the November 9, 2009, issue of Fortune, Daniel Okrent reviews just-released food memoirs by two “world-class eaters.” The books are: Eating by Jason Epstein and Far Flung and Well Fed by R. W. Apple, Jr. (FYI: Neither author has a website. R. W. Apple, Jr. died in 2006.) Check out the titles at your local online or bricks-and-mortar bookstore.

 

Epstein and Apple apparently had refined palates and enjoyed fine meals. In contrast, the stories (and memories) in my “recipe memoirs” are often better than the food. One of my favorite recipe memoirs is “How Train Wreck Got Its Name.”

What follows is a recipe memoir I have shared with my family, which always brings lots of smiles.

 

How Train Wreck Got Its Name

 

My mother, Mary Jewett, used to make a macaroni casserole we called Train Wreck. I thought it was Tom, my little brother, who gave Train Wreck its name. But Tom says Mom always credited George C. Papanicolaou.

 

George was a Union College student from Greece, who  lived with us at 3 Douglas Road in Schenectady, NY, our home from 1962-1965. George had the third-floor room with the Palladian windows under the front gable. George is now a math professor at Stanford. As Mom told it, George bounded down into the kitchen, looked in the pot on the stove, and said, “Mrs. Jewett, that looks like a train wreck!” To complicate matters, Aunt Ellie (Mom’s sister-in-law, Ellie Jewett) says, no, it was her son, Rick, who christened Train Wreck.

 

Train Wreck has many variations and names, including American Chop Suey and Hungarian Goulash. Here’s my recipe.

 

 

TRAIN WRECK

1. 1 lb. ground beef

2. 2 T oil

3. 1 onion, finely chopped (or more to taste)

4. 1-2 cloves garlic, finely chopped (or more to taste)

5. Other spices. I buy from Penzeys: Penzey’s Italian Herb Mix (1 T),  Penzey’s Granulated Garlic Powder (2 T), Penzey’s Onion Powder (2 T), and Penzey’s Bay Leaf Seasonings (2 t); sugar (2 t); 1 bay leaf (remove before serving); and salt & pepper.

6. 1 26.5-oz. can or  26-oz. jar of spaghetti sauce

7. 1 28-oz. can crushed tomatoes

8. 1 16-oz. box macaroni, cooked al dente and drained (I like shells)

 

Cook beef, drain fat, and set aside. Simmer items # 2-5 until onions are soft. Add water as needed. The longer you simmer this before adding the rest of the ingredients, the better it tastes. Add the meat and items # 6-7 and simmer at least 10 minutes. Add item # 8. Correct seasoning.

 

Do you have a food memories that would make a good memoir? Let me know.

 

Nice Day for a White Wedding

An email about Lilly Friedman’s parachute wedding dress is making the rounds again. The email is un-credited, or I would attribute the source, but I can confirm that Lilly Friedman’s wedding dress is for real and is exhibited at The Holocaust Museum in Washington, D.C.

 

Over 60 years ago, Lilly (Lax) Friedman was a DP (displaced person) in Bergen Belsen Displaced Person’s camp. Lilly had survived Auschwitz, a forced labor camp, a death march, and Bergen Belsen itself. In 1946, when Lilly Lax and Ludwig Friedman decided to marry, Ludwig bartered two pounds of coffee beans and a couple of packs of cigarettes for a German parachute. With the help of a seamstress, Lilly created the white wedding gown she was determined to have when she and Ludwig stood under the chuppah (wedding canopy). Many other DP brides borrowed Lilly’s dress. How many? “I stopped counting after 17,” says Lilly. For these women, the dress symbolized a return to normalcy after the Holocaust. Lilly’s father and her two brothers were exterminated immediately upon arriving at Auschwitz. Lilly and two sisters survived and live near each other now in Brooklyn, NY.

 

As a friend of mine said, “Amazing that she kept the dress.” That’s something I would have done. I still have the kippah (yarmulke) from the first bar mitzvah I ever went to. Do you have a beloved object you’ve kept all these years because of what it means to you? Perhaps an item of clothing, a watch, a medal, or a souvenir? Why not write a memoir about it? Write down “who, what, when, where, why, and how.” Where did you get it? Who made it? What does it mean to you? Tell its story. Lilly’s parachute wedding dress is a great example of an object with a story to tell. What is your parachute wedding dress?

My parachute wedding dress is an apron that belonged to my paternal great-great grandmother, Martha Anne (Moore) Gott (born 12-25-1834 died 3-9-1917, age 82). A few years ago, I was given Martha's apron on a family visit to the Gotts in Montrose, Colorado (my late father’s cousin, the late Max Gott, and wife, Darlene Gott). Darlene gave it to me and said, “Her name was Martha. You should have this.”

 

I want to preserve the apron and possible display it, but don’t know how. Any ideas? Let me know.

 

Saying “No” to a One-Act Existence

Frank McCourt, author of Angela’s Ashes, died over the weekend. Our friend, Robert Siegel, M.D., studied English with McCourt in a New York City public high school. I remember Robert saying McCourt was supportive, engaging, and fun. As a teacher, he spent time to give a little extra to his students, took them out, got to know them. As Hillel Italie said of Angela’s Ashes in today’s AP obituary, the 1996 book was “perhaps the ultimate case of the non-celebrity memoir.” But underneath its Irish charm,  Angela’s Ashes was an expression of defiance. ”I refused to settle for a one-act existence,” said McCourt. He set out to write about his past, but would not let himself be bound by it. He went on–after 30 years of teaching–to describe his childhood in a book that has been published in 25 languages, in 30 countries, selling millions of copies, winning the Pulitzer Prize. Angela’s Ashes was the beginning of a long and successful second act. An ordinary man, an extraordinary memoir.

My passion is helping everyday people write their personal memoirs. I expect most of these memoirs will be self-published, distributed to family and friends. Unfortunately, times have changed since McCourt published Angela’s Ashes and unless you’re a celebrity, you probably won’t get your memoir published by a commercial publisher. (That’s what so great about all the print-on-demand, self-publishing options, which I will write more about in subsequent blogs).

Frank McCourt taught us that we are all ordinary. But our memoirs can be extraordinary. If you  limit the scope of your memoir to a small topic (e.g., dad’s hearing aids), if you write honestly (it made you mad when he turned them off during fights with your mother), and if you include descriptions of concrete details (his hearing aids used to have a wire going over his head like a headband), your memoir can make the ordinary extraordinary. That’s because no one perceives the world exactly as you do.

Here’s to ordinary people writing extraordinary memoirs. And to saying “no” to a one-act existence. Do you think your memoir will be an act of defiance? Let me know.

Lost in Transliteration

When I moved to Japan, my name changed to Maa-sa Jyu-e-tto, and was written in katakana (not Roman letters), the alphabet reserved for foreign words imported into Japanese. Out of deference to the exigencies of Japanese, I (mis)pronounced my name the way the Japanese did. [Read more...]

Close Encounters of the Animal Kind

When it comes to close encounters of the animal kind, you don’t have to be Captain “Sully” Sullenberger to have had one. Our friend Frank was accosted by a swan which didn’t leave him alone until he punched it in the beak. I’ve had two deer encounters, both of which were close calls. In the first, if I had been a foot ahead of where I was walking, the buck would have landed on me and might have killed me. In the second, a deer came out of nowhere one warm November night and struck my car, smashing my driver’s-side mirror, door, and window. At first, all I saw was a dark shape. I thought I had killed someone. If it had landed on my windshield, I might have lost control of the car.  Close calls that turned out well. But what if?

What close encounters of the animal kind have you had? Were they funny? Scary? Why not write a memoir about it?

Let me know how it goes.

Memory Triggers

Seeing a mom and pop store on a corner is a memory trigger for me. The other day, I noticed the corner GE appliance store in nearby Caldwell, New Jersey, has windows full of “going out of business” signs. That triggered a memory for me of the corner candy store across from my elementary school in Schenectady, New York.

 

It was a candy and comic book store which catered to us kids. The first time I bought myself a treat–all by myself–was in that store. It was probably a Milky Way bar. I remember saving up coins from my allowance, taking them to school, crossing the street, and going into the store. Buying the candy was something to look forward to at dismissal time at 2:50.

 

 

Several years ago, I was in Schenectady and found my old school by accident. At that time, the store, which looked like a bodega, was still there. But it’s gone now. The display windows are boarded up. It seems to be just a home now.

 

 

Things change, but sensory triggers bring back memories. Music is a memory trigger. Tastes and sounds are too. When my husband, Evan Marshall, smells honeysuckle, he thinks of the terrible allergies he had as a kid.

 

 

What are your memory triggers? It’s easy to miss them, so keep some paper with you. Write them down. (“Seeing that store reminds me of…”) Even if you’re not sure, write it down. Keep the piece of paper in your pocket.  

Memorial Day Memoir

Lt. Wallace Jewett, 16th Michigan, killed July 2, 1863, Gettysburg PA

This Memorial Day, I’d like to honor Wallace E. Jewett, my first cousin four times removed (meaning four generations ago), who died in the Battle of Gettysburg in the Civil War.Wallace was 21 when he enlisted in Saginaw City, Michigan, on October 7, 1861, with the rank of 1st Sergeant.  He was a brave, capable soldier and was promoted often:

  • July 1, 1862—Sergt. Major
  • July 29, 1862—2nd Lieut. (As of Co. K)
  • February 2, 1863—1st Lieut. (As of Co. K)
  • April 1, 1863—Actg. Aide-de-Camp (As of 3rd Brigade, 1st Div, 5th Corp)

On July 2, 1863, Wallace died on Little Round Top. Little Round Top was at the extreme left side of the 3-mile-long Union line. Lieut. Wallace’s regiment, the 16th Michigan, “was at the right at the front edge of the rocks and was much more exposed than other parts of the line.” (Col. James C. Rice, July 31, 1863.) 

The fighting started at 4 pm on July 2, 1863. For the next hour, the Confederate forces charged again and again. “At every charge, he was repulsed with terrible slaughter,” wrote Col. James C. Rice (July 31, 1863). “Despairing of success at this point, he made a desperate attack upon the extreme right of the brigade” [where the 16th Michigan was], “forcing back a part of the Sixteenth Michigan. This regiment was broken, and through some misunderstanding of orders, explained in the official report of the commanding officer, it was thrown into confusion; but being immediately supported by the 140th NY Volunteers, the line became again firm and unbroken.” (Col. James C. Rice, July 31, 1863.) “The enemy again and again attacked the center with great vigor, and the extreme left with desperation. Passing one brigade of his forces by the right flank in three columns, he pushed through the ravine toward the left of our brigade, came immediately to a ‘front,’ and charged upon the Twentieth Maine. Now occurred the most critical time of the action. For about a half an hour the struggle was desperate.” (Col. James C. Rice, July 31, 1863.)

Somewhere during this time, Wallace E. Jewett was shot.  Benjamin F. Partridge, a Captain in the 16th Michigan at Little Round Top, wrote after the Civil War, “Lieut. Wallace Jewett of Co. ‘K’ was killed by a ball through his head just over his right eye, while cheering his comrades and men with uplifted sword.” (The Bachelder Papers, Vol. I, page 244.)

Wallace E. Jewett, was buried on July 3, 1863. He is memorialized in the National Cemetery at Gettysburg. You can easily find Wallace’s gravestone–Lieut. W. Jewett. Co. K. Regt. 16.–(MI plot H-2), by walking along the Michigan row of graves there.

 Wallace E. Jewett was 23.

This Memorial Day, why don’t you write and share a memoir about someone who gave his or her life?

Photo courtesy of Clay Feeter, my cousin and Civil War historian extraordinaire, who provided the research.