Field Trip Needed: Mahaffey, PA

I need to make a visit to the Borough of Mahaffey, in western Pennsylvania, somewhat southeast of Punxsutawny. I'm adding it to my list of places to visit to learn more about family history.

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Mahaffey is the only populated place in the US that I know of that is named for a relative of mine. There is a small lake named Mahaffie created by the US Farm Service out in Oklahoma.

I had been aware for some time that there is a place called Mahaffey in Pennsylvania, but it is only recently that my genealogical wanderings led me to a reference to the person it was named for, Robert Mahaffey, who was the grandson of my great-great-great-great-grandfather's brother. That makes him my second cousin, four times removed. It's probably more useful to say he was second cousin to my great-grandfather, Doc Mahaffie.

Back around 1750, a group of Mahaffeys emigrated from Ireland to Pennsylvania, settling originally in Cumberland County. There were either two sets of two brothers who were cousins, or more likely there were four brothers. Records are sketchy; our best source is a family history from the early 20th century.

In any case, one of those original American Mahaffeys was Charles, whose son Andrew changed his name's spelling to Mahaffie and produced JB, who produced Doc, whose son Charles was my grandfather. The elder Charles Mahaffey's brother Thomas, meanwhile, fathered William, who fathered Robert Mahaffey, who appears to have founded the settlement that now bears his name.

I had already shown Robert Mahaffie (1815 - 1900) in my family tree, but it wasn't until I found an extract from Twentieth Century History of Clearfield County, Pennsylvania, and Representative Citizens, by Roland D. Swoope, Jr. (published by Richmond-Arnold Publishing of Chicago in 1911), that I had a reference to a founder of Mahaffie:

Robert Mahaffey equaled his father in enterprise. He engaged also in lumbering and later cleared up a large farm in Bell township and also conducted a general store and in addition, operated a mill. His various enterprises prospered and each one assisted in the developing of the other and ere long many settlers had been attracted to his neighborhood, a village resulted and in his honor was named for the man of energy and progress, who had had the foresight to select this certain section of the wilderness as his place of investment.

Today Mahaffey is something of an also-ran among the many municipalities and boroughs of Pennsylvania. I couldn't find a town government in my Google-searching. The Commonwealth of Pennsylvania doesn't link to one. And I couldn't find anything via the Pennsylvania League of Cities and Municipalities or the Pennsylvania State Association of Boroughs.

The 2000 US Census found 402 residents; all of them white with a median age of between 39 and 40 years. According to the Bell Township/Mahaffey Borough Joint Comprehensive Plan (found via the PA County Planning e-Library) prepared in 2000, population at Mahaffey reached a peak of 801 in 1920. A lack of economic opportunities, likely tied to the shift away from an agrarian economy in the eastern US, led to high levels of out-migration.

But Mahaffey looks like an interesting place. It sits among the hills and along a mid-sized stream. There are some recreation areas nearby and a Mahaffey Camp, "A Christian Center for Spiritual Growth," up the road.

I think I may need to take a field trip to see the place for myself.

The Participation Generation

The old-photos blog Shorpy has had a few pictures up lately showing everyday folks making music back in the 1940s. The one at left shows a pick-up band at a Florida trailer park. An earlier entry shows "boys in the bunkhouse" gathered around a stove and a guitar.

These resonated for me with parts of an interview with Levon Helm I heard this morning on my commute. It was a rebroadcast of the December 11 edition of Fresh Air. Terry Gross was working through Helm's history and talking about his new album, Dirt Farmer, reflects the influences of his early life.

Levon Helm, once the drummer and a singer with The Band and a solo artist of some repute, has established a new tradition of regular in-studio house parties featuring a variety of great musicians at his place up in Woodstock. They started as a kind of rent-party a few years back when he was working through bankruptcy and recovering from throat cancer. They echo a style of house-party that was a part of his Arkansas childhood back in the 1940s and 50s.

Helm, musing on those sorts of parties and the fact that his father used to perform at some of them, used the phrase "participation generation" to refer back to a time when anyone might pick up a guitar, a fiddle, a washtub, or a beat-box and join in a pick-up band.

That's part of what I see in these photos.

Update: Here is an even better view of the jam session shown above.

I Guess Everything IS Bigger in Texas

The old-photo blog Shorpy has a post up this morning showing a 1914 photograph of a municipal Bat Roost in San Antonio, Texas. It took me a few moments to notice the man standing on one of the cross-timbers of the structure and to realize just how large the thing is. We don't see timbers that large much anymore. Certainly not in utility construction. Have a look also at the close-up of the posted explanation and anti bat-slaughter ordinance.

Update: According to Dave, over at Shorpy, the supports that I took for timbers are in fact poured concrete. I'm disappointed to have been wrong, but still impressed at the size of the Bat Roost.

Lighthouse Update: "Honey, I'm Home!"

Michael Gabriel had his first look this week at the Delaware Bay Lighthouse he bought from the federal government this fall. According to a story in the News Journal this morning, the California lawyer made the trip out to Fourteen Foot Bank Lighthouse on Thursday, accompanied by a Delaware man who once helped run the lighthouse for the Coast Guard.

News Journal photographer Gary Emeigh was along for the ride, and it's likely that reporter JL Miller made the trip as well, though his story properly reads as if there was no reporter along. It's a well-written piece. The News Journal offers a nice little slide show of Gary Emeigh's photos; there are some neat shots in there.

It looks like there might be a bit more work involved in making the Lighthouse habitable, but it does look possible. He had his contractors (Delawareans, as is right and proper) along with him and they're already planning repairs and improvements.

One question that I think may yet be unanswered is will Mr. Gabriel pay property taxes on the lighthouse? And, if so, to whom?

This may seem overly bureaucratic of me, but the question came up earlier this fall in a discussion with some of the folks who manage parcel mapping for Kent County. Their job is to maintain property maps for all parcels in the county. And they wondered whether or not they would need to add a new, small, perfectly round parcel out in the Bay.

It looks fairly clearly like this lighthouse is within the Kent County portion of the Delaware Bay; the county doesn't end at the shoreline, it extends out to the state line which runs down the center of the bay at that point. The Bay has traditionally (I think) not been parcel-mapped because it is state or (in parts?) federal public subaqueous land.

It might be the case that the lighthouse will be treated as an owned structure on leased or public land. In that case, does Mr. Gabriel pay a land-rent to the state or the feds? Or does he own the small portion of Bay bottom that his lighthouse rests on?

If it is the case that this is a private in-holding out in the Bay, and a parcel needs to be added to the Kent County Cadastral database, I can see the Kent County parcel data stewards having to answer endless questions from data-users about a "mistake circle" outside of the County.

One of the things I love about Delaware is the never-ending series of fascinating challenges and puzzles presented by a state with such a long and complicated history. We're a funny little state, but we're never dull, not if you keep your eyes and ears open.

Finally, A Place to Put My Stuff

This is the Mahaffie Warehouse (PDF), on Mahaffie Circle, in Olathe Kansas. It showed up in one of my ego-search feeds in a space-for-rent listing from bizspacekansascity. (Photo Credit: The Tutera Group [I think])

It looks like there's about 12,000 square feet of space available right now. Other tenants are Pump It Up ("The Inflatable Party Zone") and Center Point Community Church. I need to think of some business to place there; something related to history or to mapping?

As I have mentioned here before (endlessly), two of my great-great Grandparents, JB and Lucinda Mahaffie, were among the first settlers at Olathe. They established a prosperous farm that included a hostel, of sorts, as a way-station on the Oregon Trail. Several of their children stayed in Olathe and had businesses. The family name has stuck there, adhering to streets and buildings.

Of course, at the center of my family history in Olathe is the old Mahaffie House, now an historic site and park.

Aside from the Mahaffie Warehouse, you'll find the Mahaffie Retail Center on Mahaffie Circle. It has a Quizno's and everything. Elsewhere in town, there is Mahaffie Elementary School (home of the Knights) and the Woods of Mahaffie subdivision (the web site seems to be down).

I found an interesting (to me) coincidence as I researched this post. The headquarters of Garmin International is in Olathe. It's mailing address is on 151st Street, but I note that both Mahaffie Circle and Mahaffie Place run through the Garmin Campus.

Here's the coincidence: Garmin makes GPS tools and is a part of the geospatial industry. A major part of my professional life is coordinating the use and sharing of GIS tools and geospatial data. It's not a major, earth-shaking sort of coincidence, but it does suggest to me that I should seek out the Garmin booth at the next GIS conference and say "howdy."

Time to Turn the Page

New York Times columnist Tom Friedman makes a good point today: 9/11 is over.

9/11 has made us stupid. I honor, and weep for, all those murdered on that day. But our reaction to 9/11 — mine included — has knocked America completely out of balance, and it is time to get things right again.

I think he's right. We cannot forget, but we mustn't endlessly dwell on 9/11. It's starting to change who we are, and not for the good.

Looks Like I'll Have to Make Friends With a Lawyer/Author from California

Michael Gabriel is the guy's name. He has bought Fourteen Foot Bank Lighthouse that I was tempted by back in August.

When I spotted the government's on-line auction of the lighthouse the bidding was at $40,000. It eventually went for $200,000 after a flurry of last minute bidding-up by Mr. Gabriel and some other person.

Gabriel, who also bought and is refurbishing a lighthouse in the Chesapeake Bay, plans to add a desalinization system to provide drinking water, a marine sanitation system to handle waste, and he plans to find a way to provide electricity to the site. At his other lighthouse (what a curious phrase), he's using a windmill system to provide power.

Obviously, Gabriel is a rich man. And a man of vision, who likes lighthouses. I'm sure we would get along famously. Don't you think?

Fifty Years Ago Today

This is who we were just 50 years ago.

On September 4, 1957, a 15 year-old girl walked down the street to her first day at a new high school. Dorothy Counts was a special young woman; tall, smart, and pretty.

She was also the first African American student to enroll at Harding High School in Charlotte, North Carolina. She was one of four students to integrate High Schools in that city that year.

Her walk from her father's car to the school building was short, but she was followed and hounded along the way by a crowd of angry white kids. They told her she was not welcome and should go home. Only less politely than that.

She made it to the school, but her career there was short. The stress of that first day expressed itself in a sore throat and fever. She returned to the school for three more days before the threats, rock-throwing, and spitting convinced her parents to pull her out of the school.

Here's the statement her father released to explain that move:

In enrolling Dorothy in Harding High School, we sought for her the highest in educational experience that this tax-supported school had to offer a young American. ... Needless to say that we regret the necessity which makes the withdrawal expedient. This step, taken for security and happiness, records in our history a page which no true American can read with pride.

True. And fifty years later, have we earned the right to be proud of ourselves? Technically, our society is integrated; as are our schools. But, let's be honest: we can do better.

One has only to read the "comments" section of the News Journal web site to see how far we have yet to go.

Yet, I take some hope from the story about this anniversary in last Saturday's Charlotte Observer. Dorothy Counts -- now Dot Counts-Scoggins -- is able to look back with compassion and some understanding on that time, and so are several of the young boys, now older men, who made up part of that mob.

Have a look, it's worth the read.
(Photo credit: Don Sturkey, 1957 North Carolina Collection, Univ. of N.C. Library at Chapel Hill.)

Sometimes You Just Want to Get Away From It All

The federal government's General Services Administration is selling Fourteen Foot Bank Lighthouse and I think it would be nice if someone bought it and let me stay there when I want to.

Sure, I could buy it for myself, but I have enough trouble with the upkeep on my land-based house.

Fourteen Foot Bank Lighthouse is in the Delaware Bay about three miles off Bowers Beach. Somewhere out here.

It was built in 1876 and lacks modern everything. But it is damn cute.

The current bid stands at $40,000. Bidding closes on August 17. C'mon people...

When I first saw this, I sent an e-mail (half-serious) to an old friend who works in State Parks suggesting that the State buy this as a part of our Parks system. I was not surprised to learn that the folks over there gave this property serious thought, but have decided to pass. That probably makes sense; the maintenance challenges and the difficulty of making it "visitable" outweigh the coolness factor.

Of course, if someone does make the opportunity available, I'd love to spend a day and a night out there.

Wouldn't that be neat?

Why Don't We Write This Way Anymore?

I'm still rooting around in the past, looking for ancestors. This evening I have been reading through portions of William G. Cutler's History of the State of Kansas, published in 1883. He gives an early history of the town of Olathe, where parts of my family settled and prospered generations back.

I love the way Cutler describes events from what was, for him, only a few decades ago. For example, in his section on early inhabitants of Olathe, he has this to say about one gent:

John P. Campbell, a cousin of James K. Polk, came here from Nashville, Tenn. He was looked upon as a brilliant and promising lawyer in the State, but he impaired his faculties by the use of alcoholic stimulants, and died of consumption in the early years of the war.

Later, in his section on newspapers in Olathe, he recounts the effect of an attack by Quantrill's raiders on the town's only Democrat newspaper at the time, the Olathe Herald, which had been a growing and healthy concern:

Quantrill paid the office a visit September 6, 1862, after which John M. Giffin, its editor and proprietor, gathered up its debris and sold it for $306; original cost having been $3,500. In addition to his newspaper office, Mr. Giffen also lost through Quantrill's efforts, accounts and notes to the amount of $13,000, and the manuscript of an algebra, for which he had been offered $5,000, and fifteen cents royalty on each book sold.

My favorite, though, is his description of the "Reformed Presbyterian, or Covenanter Church." A congregation formed in Olathe in 1865, and split into two in 1871:

This denomination wherever founded is radical in its character, forward in reform movements, and never received into, nor tolerated slaveholders in its communion. While its members have borne arms in every national conflict for right and liberty, yet they refrain from the exercise of the elective franchise--believing the National constitution to be, though in many respects most excellent, yet in some things infidel and immoral.

Seems like I've read similar sentiments on modern day blogs as well.

Where I'm From

I've been spending a lot of time lately looking into my genealogy, playing around on a site called Geni which is an on-line family-tree tool. I've looked into family past before, of course, but now that I've started working on the family tree I've found a great deal of material on-line.

As part of this, I've put together a map of the birth-places of my direct ancestors; at least those whose birthplaces I could determine.

The earliest Mahaffies I could find -- they were Mahaffeys back in the 1700s-- were from northern Ireland. There were Beckers, from my Mother's side of the family, born in Germany in the 1800s.

In the US, there was a steady progression west by my branch of the Mahaffie family. They were in Pennsylvania, then Ohio, then Indiana. My Great-Great Grandfather JB Mahaffie started his family in Indiana and then settled in Olathe Kansas in 1857. He was one of the original settlers.

My Great Grandfather George Mahaffie had been born in Indiana. He started his family in Olathe, where my grandfather Charles was born. George took his family west to Oklahoma as homesteaders.

My grandfather was a Rhodes Scholar, studying at Oxford for a time. He became a lawyer and lived and practiced in Oregon before going to Washington DC, where my Father was born. My Grandmother had been born in Washington State, but raised in New York City, where many of her forbears were born.

On my Mother's side, Farrars, Beckers, Bartletts, and Redmonds were mostly around New York. I also had forbears in upstate New York and in Vermont.

If any of these names and dates match names and dates in your family tree (and you are not already part of my family tree), let me know. I'm always eager to expand the tree.

Here's a Movie I'd Really Like to See

A new documentary about the life of Joe Strummer has opened over in England. I'm not sure if it is out yet here in the US. The film is called The Future is Unwritten, and it looks fascinating.

Joe Strummer was a guitarist and front man for one of my all-time favorite rock bands, the Clash, who helped me define my youth.

As I have written before, I remain a Strummer fan. He was at the heart of the great Punk Rock explosion of the 1970s, but he transcended that genre; he was a classic rock rebel and cultural revolutionary.

I think it is telling that one of his last recordings was a duet with Johnny Cash, singing Bob Marley's "Redemption Song."

I still carry Joe Strummer's voice in my head. It seems comfortable there with Jerry's guitar sound.

Will we see this film down at Movies at Midway? Or will there remain three screens of Spiderman 3?

Views From an Observation Tower

Created with Paul's flickrSLiDR.

Yesterday I climbed the Observation Tower at Fort Miles in Cape Henlopen State Park and took a 360-degree set of views from the top.

The tower is one of a network that stood sentry along Delaware's Atlantic coastline during World War II. They were used to watch for enemy warships and direct coastal defense battery fire should an enemy appear. The system was never called into action, though I believe at least one German U-Boat surrendered at Lewes at the end of the war.

This is the only tower that is still open to the public.

I started facing more or less west and took a photo through an opening in the chain-link fencing that keeps people from going over the edge of the tower. I took a wide side-step to my right and took another. Took another step and another picture. And so on, around the tower.

Happy Mother's Day!

I was trying to think what to do for a Mother's Day post. I toyed with presenting facts for the day from the US Census Bureau. Or a collection of photos tagged with "mom" from flickr. But it seems best to simply talk about some of the moms I know.

My mom is Judy Mahaffie. She was born Judith Farrar, one of three children of Roberta Farrar, the daughter of Susan Becker.

I never knew Susan Becker. But I remember my Granny, as we knew Roberta Farrar, teaching me card games as a child. She moved to live near us towards the end of her life and was a part of activities with my mother when we were small.

I also remember being taken to lunch by both of my grandmothers at that time. I remember my brother Matt and I riding in the back of Granny's car with Grandma, my father's mother, in the passenger seat.

Grandma was born Isabel Cooper, daughter of James Cooper and Honora Cooper (born Honora Henry) in Seattle Washington. She was raised in New York City and worked as an artist starting in the 1920s (or maybe earlier). She traveled with scientific expeditions painting watercolor pictures of their finds. This was before color photography.

My father has collected and published her letters to and from my Grandfather, who lived in Washington DC, over the several years of their courtship. But that's a story for another day.

Grandma was known in our neighborhood as "Groovy Granny." She always had cool cars and dressed with style. Her home was filled with art and inspiration. Her baby grand piano now sits here in my home.

The mom at the center of my life now, of course, is the lovely Karen, mother of my daughters and sometimes den mother to the younger teachers she works with. Karen is patient and inspiring. Though neither she nor they will readily admit it, she is doing a wonderful job raising two delightful, bright and creative young ladies.

Karen's mom is Christina Hudack. She raised three girls and serves as Baba to six grandchildren. She was born Christina Stongosky, daughter of another Christina Strongosky, who came to this country from eastern Europe and made a strong impression on her grandchildren as a determined little woman.

She also left us a smattering of Slavic language that still crops up in this otherwise Irish household.

Moms are important. They are the strongest links in the chains of parenting that connect us with our past.

A Boat Rowed Around It

A fellow affiliated with the Delaware Museum of Natural History is about to start on an intriguing adventure. John Wik plans to row a small rowboat around the Delmarva Peninsula as an educational adventure and to raise awareness about the museum.

It is called A Delmarva Odyssey (WARNING: embedded and apparently unstoppable video).

Mr. Wik will leave from the City of New Castle this week and row down the Delaware River, through the Delaware Bay, around Cape Henlopen, down the Atlantic Coast, around Cape Charles, up the Chesapeake Bay, through the Chesapeake and Delaware Canal, and back to New Castle.

Not all in one go. He plans to do a few days a week, stopping along the way to record video lessons about the region and its ecology for school children. The Delmarva Odyssey site already has a few videos up detailing plans for the trip, the equipment, and some basic information about the region.

I'm ashamed to say I missed Molly Murray's story on this trip from a few days ago (A Delmarva trek, from bay to bay). I learned about the Odyssey from the Delmarva blog Shore Things (which I only just discovered).

According to Molly's story, the trip was to have started tomorrow, Mother's Day. The Odyssey web site, however, gives Tuesday, May 15 as the starting date. I imagine it may have been changed for various logistical reasons in the nearly two weeks since Molly's story came out. I know the last thing I would want to do on Mother's Day is start a major me-centric adventure. Better to wait a few days.

I hope to track this trip. The News Journal appears poised to offer regular updates, and I will return to the Odyssey web site from time to time. It would be helpful if there were regular text updates from the Odyssey site, and not just the collections of videos that appear planned. An RSS feed would be helpful, as would a schedule of whens and wheres so those of us inclined to could go on-site for a look.

When, for example, will Mr. Wik be passing my town of Lewes?

Now, That's an Alumnus

John Miner turned 100 years old this past Sunday. The Calais, Maine, resident is a retired dentist. He graduated from Colby College in 1929, two years before my father was born and 55 years before I graduated from Colby.

Dr. Miner was already wicked old (as we used to say) when I was a student at the small college in central Maine. Think of the changes he's seen.

As a boy he played with the young Prince who would some day be the King of Siam. He knew Roy Rogers. He only ever bought General Motors cars, starting with one he bought from one of the first auto dealerships in the state of Maine.

Right now he owns his 63rd and 64th GM cars.

What is his secret to long life?

"I never ever went on a diet in my life. I eat anything. I joke about it that it has to stand still long enough for me to take a bite, and as far as exercise, the only kind of exercise was when I had to attend gym classes at Colby College."

Some Things Never Change

Please forgive me for returning one more time to the Lewis Wickes Hine collection of early 20th-century photography, as posted on the photo-blog Shorpy.

I found this picture of girl factory workers in Cleveland in 1910 utterly charming; these could very easily be fourth-grade students at any school in Delaware today.

Little girls will always be little girls.

Whose Great-Grandads Are These?

I've been enjoying a photoblog called Shorpy which finds and posts photos from as close to the start of the 20th Century as it can get.

Today, the site featured as series of portraits by Lewis Wickes Hine of young boys at work in Wilmington, Delaware, in 1910. They were part of Hine's work for the National Child Labor Committee.

There are a 15-year-old newsboy found on Tatnall Street, a 12-year-old found at 4th & Pine Streets, a 14-year-old Western Union Telegraph messenger found on Linden Street, a 10-year-old newsboy found on West 5th street, and an 11-year-old peanut vendor.

Take time to read the descriptions, which appear to be taken from Hine's notes. They are fascinating. They include details such as "Don’t smoke but visits saloons."

It seems unlikely that I've ever met any of these boys' descendants, but I can't help but think that some of these faces look familiar.

It Was a Different Time

I found my way to a YouTube posting of an early Johnny Cash performance. He's singing There You Go on the television show Ranch Party. This is from the mid or late 1950s. Just Johnny, a bassist, and an electric guitar player (the Tennessee Two). It made me realize how different music on TV has become.

Look at Johnny Cash here. He's so darkly slicked-back. He looks rather like Desi Arnaz as Ricky Ricardo. Dig the gold jacket. And he's soooo restrained.

Meanwhile, the bass player, Marshall Grant, is just boppin' and poppin' back there. You can't tell from this still shot, but he's chewing a big 'ol wad of gum; out of time with the tune.

And then, there's Luther Perkins, the guitar payer. He's playing a classic country-style Fender Telecaster. I played a Tele in my youth, and I always focus-in on them when I see one played.

Perkins is playing a very restrained "plunkety-plunk" lead-line throughout the song. This still is from his solo (you know, the part where the guitarist usually grimaces and poses and wrings the poor guitar's neck).

There's not a note out of place in his solo. There's not a lot of flash or fire, either. It's perfect, but it's so under control. There's a moment just at the end of the solo when Cash leans back and, I think, calls a chord change out to Perkins.

This is classic stuff, but it is also remarkably stiff and the players, with the exception of a happy, bouncy Grant, seem oddly uncomfortable.

(Via Mr. Dante Fontana's Visual Guidance LTD)

I Wonder if There's Going to be an "Open Fort?"

Each summer, either going to or heading home from The Tyler Place, we pass Fort Montgomery. It is a weathered 19th-century military installation that juts out into Lake Champlain on the New York side just south of the Canadian border.

I've often thought it might be cool to visit, but it doesn't look like it is "open."

It turns out that, for just the low, low price of somewhere between 3 and 9.95 million dollars, it could be ours! The fort, and some additional land, is on sale on eBay, according to the web site The Lay of the Land:

365 acres with frontage on, and under, Lake Champlain is for sale in northern New York. The property comes with a 19th century fortification, Fort Montgomery, that while in need of some repair, is still largely intact. Furthermore, the property abuts the Canadian Border, making this an excellent opportunity to add to the defense of the nation.

I could be tempted. Ever since we started visiting in Vermont, both Karen and I have thought about moving there. It's a lovely place and that far upstate part of New York is nice too.

But Colleen and Christina won't hear of it. They want to stay here in Delaware where they have life-long friends.

I can respect that. But a fort on Lake Champlain would be pretty neat. And maybe we could get some cannons. (Via BLDG BLOG)