Life’s Curveballs

I’ve been dealing with a family issue, struggle may be a better word, for some time now and there are no answers forthcoming. It feels like I’m stuck in some Groundhog Day scenario where the same thing keeps happening over and over and I’m unable to break the cycle; oh to be well again.

The Problem

The problem comes down to perception and the way I am. It’s hard trying to change the way you are and always have been. I’m kind of a laid-back person and I’m usually late. Try as I may to be on time for something like sending a birthday card or being on time for some function, I always end up being late. It seems like even when I’m early and believe that I’m on time or making good progress something invariable gets in my way like a traffic jam, computer failure, or some other obstacle and I end up being late. Right or wrong, it has gotten to the point where I don’t even sweat it anymore. I just do the best I can and be damn the rest. After all, I’m 54 years old and this has been going on my whole life.

The Conflict

Some people perceive the fact that I am late as not caring or I don’t like them and I’m doing it on purpose. Not only that I showed up late I may have brought something to their party or function that they don’t like and now they perceive that I’m doing something to hurt them. I don’t like them because surely I knew their likes and dislikes.

This scenario is played over and over again and every time it’s played, things get worse. Nothing I do is right and I’m a bad person for letting it happen.

The Answer

If anyone knows a good answer, I would sure like to hear it. I’ve tried to keep my distance but that doesn’t work because now I really don’t care. I’ve tried to cater to likes and dislikes only to fall short on occasion creating another do over day. I can be early ten times in a row but the one time I’m late it’s another day. The stress of it all is just too much to bear. I can’t keep walking on eggshells because they keep braking and it hurts.

Oh to be well again!

Larry

I found this one line on the Tim Russert Tribute page and I think it says it all. A good man has left the world. I wasn’t a devoted watcher of Meet the Press but I did occasionally watch it from time to time when flipping channels on Sunday morning. Nevertheless, whenever I did watch it or see Tim on another news shows I always stopped what I was doing to watch him. He had an infectious personality and whenever I saw him, I just had to watch. Even when he was asking the toughest questions, he had a smile on his face. That’s what I will remember most about Tim Russert.

In today’s politics and bias media, Tim was a refreshing voice of unbiased journalism. Other journalist should follow his example and keep their personal views personal. There are too many that let their personal agenda seep into their coverage of world events. We need more Tim Russert’s in the media but I’m afraid they are a dying breed.

My sympathy goes out to his family and friends. There is no one who can fill his shoes.

Larry Worrilow

You may have seen this advertisement for Ancestry.com on a website some where with about 12 or more daddies. This is the genealogist quest to find as much information about our daddies as possible. It becomes an addiction and takes over our every waking minute. It’s the quest for knowledge of our history and tells us who we are.

There are some skeptics out there that say, “How do you know that is your 6th Great Grandfather?” Or they will say, “It’s not possible to go back that far.” It’s not easy sometimes, but yes, it is possible. I have spent weeks trying to confirm that one connection, that one record that places one person with another, the will, land or census record, the newspaper obituary. Like most genealogists, I must have proof and won’t stop until I find it. We all have hunches but until the proof comes, there is no connection.

I’ve recently taken up the quest of researching my wife’s family. Her father’s name was Stanley George Wolverson and her mother’s name was Lorena Violet Buniff. Many times it’s the father’s side of the family that we research because as the title above says, “Who’s your Daddy?” However, your mother’s side is just as important and sometimes over looked.

My wife’s father was a British immigrant who fought in World War I. He lied about is age by two years just so he could join the military. He was in the Canadian Infantry as a runner and was wounded during the war to end all wars. The Wolversons have a rich history that can be traced back to the early 1600s in England. However, we find that her mother’s side of the family is just as rich in history and very close to home in Wetumpka, Alabama of all places.

My wife and I have traveled around the country because of my military career. We were both born in the north and grew up in southeastern Pennsylvania but after my military days, we settled in Montgomery, Alabama and three years ago moved north about 20 miles to Wetumpka.

Jean Louis dit Colon Fonteneau

Jean Louis was born 18 Dec 1686 in Poitiers, France and was baptized in Saint Jean de Montierneuf Church of the same town. By 1720, Jean Louis was a Sergeant serving in French military and on the ship named the “Drommadaire” heading for the new world for an assignment in the colonies. He arrived through the port at Mobile bay which was the French military headquarters and seat of government for the Louisiana Territory and was assigned to Fort Conde near Mobile. During his stay in Fort Conde, he met and married a young widow named Marie Louise Henrique (Henry) and they married on 8 Feb 1725/26 in Mobile. Sometime after his marriage to Marie, Jean Louis was assigned to Fort Toulouse, which in the present day is located in Elmore County, Wetumpka, Alabama at the junction of two rivers, the Coosa and Tallapoosa.

Jean and Marie had twelve children, 8 sons and 4 daughters, and they were all born at Fort Toulouse. Their sons joined the marines and married daughters of other marines and their daughters married sons of marines and they lived near the Fort. Family names for the spouses were Doucet, Brignac, LaGrange, Lobell and Berthelot. Jean Louis died in October 1755 at the age of 68 and was buried in the Fort cemetery but the location of his remains is unknown.

Sometime after the signing of the treaty, which ended the French and Indian War, Jean Louis’ living sons, daughters, and Widow Marie Louise moved from the Fort and settled in the vicinity of present day Opelousas, St Landry, Louisiana. All present day Fonteneau’s (Fontenot) in this country are direct descendants of these early settlers.

At a gathering of Fonteneau decedents in October of 1998, a Memorial was place in the Fort Toulouse cemetery. The inscription reads:

In Memory of
Jean Louis “Colin” Fonteneau
Sergeant in the French Colonial Marines
Served at Fort Toulouse 1730-1755
Born: Dec.18, 1686 in Poitiers, France
Died: Oct. 29, 1755 at Fort Toulouse

Progenitor of all Fontenots in North America

Donated by his living descendants in 1998

Jean Louis was my wife’s 6th great grandfather. His son Pierre dit Bellevue Fonteneau (1733 - 1811) was her 5th great grandfather and Felicite Fonteneau (1763 - 1830) was her 4th great grandmother. Felicite married Jacques Charles Deshotels II (1759 - 1823) and they had a son named, Israel Deshotels, which was her 3rd great grandfather. Her 2nd great grandmother, Aimie Deshotels (1816 - 1862) married Marcelin Gaspard. Aimie and Marcelin had her great grandmother; Emilia Gaspard who married Jean Francois Oleus Fromental and they had a daughter named Emeliana Juliana “Emily” Fromental who married her grand father, Sidney Eugene Buniff.

Some how, from half a world away Jean Louis Fonteneau brought up his family in a place not 10 miles from our current home in Wetumpka, Alabama. It’s a very small world and we are more connected than we think.

Larry

We lost one of our dogs last week due to old age and a tumor. She didn’t have any letters after her name and she was just a dog but she was with us for over 17 years. Her name was Chelsea and she was a good little girl. We never really intended to get a dog the day that we found her but a friend had just lost a dog and my wife thought that this little puppy would be the perfect replacement. As it turned out, the friend didn’t want another dog so we named the puppy Chelsea and kept her as our own.

She was a little Dachshund mixed with another breed probably a beagle. She was a funny looking little dog with weird feet but we loved her, cared for her, and made her part of our family. I can still remember her little scampering feet as she raced to greet me when arriving home from work. They were some of the better days.

Rest in peace little Chelsea. Your pain is over but we all will miss you.

Larry