Casimir Bruyneel vs. THE Sam Gompers (52 Ancestors - #24)

Bud had a great grandfather, Casimir Bruyneel, who we feel was a fascinating family member.  He was married to his paternal great grandmother, Emily VanCauwenberg.  
Casimir Bruyneel was born on December 26, 1882, in Belgium.  We are not sure if he was the only child of his parents Alois and Rosalie. It is not quite clear as to when he immigrated from Belgium to the United States.  

One of the first things of interest about Casimir is his last name.  It is unclear if he was born with the name Bruynell or Bruyneel.  My father-in-law, Ken Bruynell, says the last name was Bruynell when he arrived here from Belgium, but due to Casimir's inability to speak clear English whomever the customs officer was either spelled his name incorrectly or one of the "L"s in Bruynell was written small and it was interpreted as a small "e" and therefore the name became Bruyneel.

Shortly after his arrival here is the U.S., he had to marry and underaged Emelie A. VanCouwenberghe and they had one child, Oscar Bruyneel, together in 1905. Like many Belgian men of that error, he was a cigar maker.  We are not sure what transpired, however before Oscar turned 5 years old Casimir had moved on.

In looking at border crossing records it seemed that Casimir made many trips to Canada.  He then married Theresa Mary Batsleer and they had one child together in 1912.
In the process of Casimir building his home, apparently he was unaware he was supposed to use union workers because he worked for the cigar union at the time prior to becoming a poultry farmer. Well, apparently Sam Gompers did not take too kindly to this action and fined him $50. This was a lot of money back in 1915!

Information about Bruyneel, Casimir 1915 Source: Google Story about Casimir vs Sam Gompers

He died on December 30, 1947, in Goffstown, New Hampshire, at the age of 65.

Note:  If I could have just one conversation with Casimir, I would ask about his family, did he have siblings?  Would he tell me why he decided to leave his first family?  Did he arrive in New York or in Boston when he first came from Belgium?  What was going on in Toronto?  Do we have unknown family up there? 

Baby Audrey Nickerson (52 Ancestors - #23)

Many times when we hear various family stories it is all about people who have had long, interesting, robust lives.  Those who briefly brushed our lives deserve mention as they shape some of our family tree.  Growing up my dad often mentioned his sister Audrey.  We heard various stories as to her fate...she was three and died, she fell and died.  He just loved to mention that he had an older sister.  Last Saturday evening we were all out celebrating my milestone birthday and he actually toasted to his sister Audrey who he had never met.

My dad must have heard about his sister from his mom.  When my family tree was first being built Audrey was one of the first ancestors I decided to research because I had heard stories about her.  To my surprise everything I heard was just lore other than the fact that she had died as a young child.

Audrey was born in Boston, MA on February 11, 1933 and didn't even make it to the first flower blooming in spring as she died a little more than a month later of pneumonia.  Her parents were most likely grief stricken at the loss of their only little girl.  No one ever forgot her!

The Sea Knows No Mercy: Narcisse Jeremy Pothier (52 Ancestors - #22)

Many of my ancestors were from Nova Scotia, both on my mom and dad's side of our family.  Nova Scotia makes much of its living from fishing and shipping goods.  My vision of fishing is casting a line into a small pond and maybe catching a 5 inch sunfish during the warmest days of summer while dangling my feet off a little red boat pier.  Fishermen from Nova Scotia have a much more realistic vision of fishing which can be during the darkest and coldest days of November and December.  It is not a picnic and it is very life threatening.  Multiply these dangers two-fold before the times of our modern navigating instruments and state of the art life boats and life vests.  This is what many of my male ancestors faced and I've learned that many uncles and cousins lives were claimed by the unmerciful ocean.  One of these people was my great grand uncle (by marriage) Narcisse Jeremy Pothier.

When Narcisse Jeremy Pothier was born on February 19, 1866, in Wedgeport, Canada, his father, Jeremie, was 24 and his mother, Eulalie (LeBlanc), was 25. He had five sisters.  He married Frances Anty Boudreau (my maternal grandfather's maternal aunt) at St. Michael's Parish in Wedgeport, NS on May 26, 1897. Their wedded bliss ended less than a year later when Narcisse died on February 4, 1898, at sea on the Brig St. Michel, at the age of 31.

Below was an article from "The Argus, vol. 9, no. 1, p. 36" that someone passed on to me and it was a poem of commemoration, that writes about Narcisse dying at sea and the pain of his young bride at losing him.  

I think we're related (What People Talk About)....Natalie Belliveau & Lange Amirault (52 Ancestors - #21)

A few years ago Aunt Mal (Marilyn (Amirault) Lima) passed this 1950's Boston Globe article on to me. Admittedly I've missed placed it and last Wednesday she brought me yet another copy because I want to prove my lineage to these two people. The story of Natalie and Ange is a true beautiful love story that occurred during the exile of the Arcadians from Nova Scotia and it ends so happily.


I've tried to find the article in order to give appropriate credit with no luck.

I'm sure they are my ancestors because I have other Jacques and Ange Amiraults in my maternal grandfather's line. If I go back a bit further I'm sure I'll find the connection. Well, researching this connection will be my summer project!

Harry Amirault - The Perfect Dad (52 Ancestors - #20)

Harry Amirault was my maternal grandfather who I never met because he passed away many years before I was born.  My grandmother, Mary Griffin Amirault, told me so many detailed stories about how wonderful he was and showed us so many photographs of him that I feel that next to her, he is the one I know best!  He should have been one of the first ancestors who I wrote about, but I wanted this story to originate from one of his five daugthters.  His now 83 year old daughter, Geraldine Amirault Mortland (Aunt Geri) was gracious enough to share her memories. Harry must have been the perfect dad because these memories of Harry were of when Aunt Geri was a mere 9 year old! So here are the wonderful memories of her beloved father.



Harry Amirault

"When I remember my father, Harry Lawrence Amirault (also Henri Laurent Amirault - b. 03 June 1901), every memory is a happy one.  He was devoted to my mother, my sisters and me.  In the town where we lived, my parents were well-known and highly respected and thought of.

My 83-year-old memory recalls firstly Dad's taking us all to the beach or a country area for a picnic.  We all wore swimsuits to the beach and his was what was worn by men and boys in that era (1930s) - a one-piece suit that went over the shoulders with shoulder straps.  Ours were the same style.  He tried to teach us to swim but we were not good students at that time.  Perhaps I was three or so.

Being gifted musically to no end, he would tap dance on the hardwood floor for us, play the piano which he played 'by ear' whenever he had a little time, and was also very adept at playing the banjo and fiddle.  He could not read a note of music but when I took piano lessons at age five, he could tell from a different room when I had struck a wrong key.  He headed up a musical band that would practice at our house for playing at weddings and such, and I would sit unseen at the top of our stairs just to listen to him and his fellow musicians play great stuff.


Harry with three of his 5 daughters about 1935
(Joan (L), Marilyn (center) and Geri (R)

Dad came to the USA as a young man, 17 or so, from Pubnico, Nova Scotia, Canada.  His home there was on a dirt road and they lived by the soil with one milking cow.  As a child, he and his father played the music at local dances, his father on the piano and Dad on the fiddle.  After he worked in Virginia at a shipyard for a spell, his cousin Fred, who owned and ran a repair garage which also sold new cars and appliances, gave him a job.  That's when he moved to North Weymouth (MA) and later met Mom at a dance in Boston.  She, too, was full of rhythm and they went dancing every week after that, even after they were married.  That's the only time we had a babysitter, every Friday night.  (married 10 August 1929)

Dad patiently taught me to ride a two-wheel bicycle in the garage.  His nature was such that he didn't get excited when I did the wrong thing, he just corrected me and had me try again.  The lesson was a success.  In our home, my sisters and I never ever heard a cross word spoken, any display of temper, or a cuss-word spoken.  At the time, we didn't realize how blessed we were, but as we matured, it became obvious.  Our kitchen was small, so Mum would feed us supper first so she and Dad could eat together and talk over the day.  While we were at the table, he would come in to Mom greeting him at the kitchen door, lift her off the floor in a hug, and proclaim, "This is MY mama!", to which we would all chime in to say, "No, she's not!  She's OUR mama!"  His Tante (Aunt) Anty once told me that in her life, she had never met a better-natured person than Dad and his sister Grace (who also died young).  I can see why she thought that.


Mary kissing Harry (early 1930s)

In winter, Dad would take Joan and me up to Whitman's Pond in East Weymouth to ice skate.  having grown up with winter sports, he was very good at them.  he had fashioned a huge device made from an indoor stair railing with a strong sail attached, and all you had to do was hang onto the railing, aim the sail, and the wind took us all over the frozen pond!  All the young boys crowded around and Dad always wound up taking them for rides around the pond.  He loved kids, and took us with him whenever he had to drive on an errand.  He was a doll!

Dad learned to pray in French, and every morning after breakfast, just before he left for work, he would kneel, work hat in hand, by a window in the kitchen to say his morning prayers - in French.

Dad had several French-Canadian cousins and friends in the Boston area, so every Sunday afternoon, we were all guests at one of their homes or they came to ours.  mom would dress us in pajamas and our host would offer the big bed to us so we could sleep while they visited and talked.  On going home from a visit, Dad would carry each one of us and place us in the back seat of his big old Dodge, where we slept, and carried each of us to our beds upon arriving home.

While Joan and I were still small, we would flank each side of Dad on the divan (couch), armed with combs, barrettes and ribbons.  We would each work a side of his head and do our thing while he went fast asleep.  He loved it.l  When we were in grammar school, we had to walk past the garage where Dad worked and he would come out to greet us on the way.  it never failed, we always asked him if we could have a penny (for penny candy, plentiful then).  While fishing for pennies in his coveralls, he would say, "For crying out loud, you kids must think pennies grow on trees!" but we got them - every time!!



Harry - I believe while still in Pubnico

My parents were devout Catholics and never missed Mass or Holy Days.  Dad even sang in the choir at St. Jerome's church.  When he became quite ill and was in bed at home, the priests used to come up and spend some time with him catting, etc.  On Sundays, Mom would have us all bathed, shampooed and dressed - in the car - she and we would be waiting for Dad who was probably still shaving.  He used a straight razor and had a strop hanging in the corner behind our white lion-clawed iron tub.

On Sunday mornings, when he didn't have to be at work, I remember his tapping out musical rhythms with his fingernails on the headboard of the bed before he had to get up.

Dad loved and respected his entire family and it was a lesson to me that you start with family and end with family.  Two of his sisters nursed him day and night at home during his worst and final days before passing away (from cancer).  He was part of a very loving family, and a large one at that!  My sisters and I, as did he and Mom, spent some wonderful time with them over the years and now stay in touch with their families.

Harry's obituary - Weymouth News & Gazette - October 10, 1941

Last, but not least, Dad had a great sense of humor and a hearty laugh.  He had a great smile, though photos that we have of him do not show that side of him.  It is a huge pity that his baby daughter Judy never got to know him at all as she was an eight month old infant when the Lord took Dad.  He was only 40 (d. 3 Oct 1941); Mom was 36 and left with five girls to raise, and without the only love of her life (she always said there was no one for her when she had already had the best guy).  He has been so missed.  Tante Augusta, Dad's eldest sister, once said to me of my children, "Wouldn't Harry have loved those boys!"  He died when I was nine."  He really was a perfect dad!



Harry's Prayer Card - 1941

NOTE:  Thank you so much Aunt Geri for your willingness to write about your dad and share it with us! 

Where is Onesippe? Charles Onesippe Boudreau (52 Ancestors - #19)

Charles Onesippe Boudreau is amongst the missing.  To step back let me give you a little background.  When Charles Onesippe Boudreau was born on August 5, 1843, in Wedgeport, Canada, his father, Felix, was 38 and his mother, Genevieve, was 27. He married Johanna Sheehan on January 20, 1873, in his hometown at St. Michael's RC Church. They had seven children in 11 years.

Some of my aunts and my cousin Pat filled me in in some if his story. He was a ship captain out of Tusket Wedge (Near Yarmouth, Nova Scotia). At some point in 1885 he took sick, ended up in a "mental hospital" and rumor had it that he died from a brain tumor. Our trail stopped there.

In 2012 my aunts, a cousin and I decided to take a road trip to visit family in Dartmouth and Middle East Pubnico, Nova Scotia. While we were up there my Aunt Marilyn and I visited the Nova Scotia Archives (NSA) in Halifax hoping to discover where we might find Onesippe's grave. NSA was quite a place and it was not from a lack of resources that we were unable to find out what happened to my x2 great grandfather. We were just not looking in the right place.

Fast forward a few months...my aunt hired a professional genealogist from Halifax, NS to see if they might have better luck. Well did they ever. We now have his patient file from Mount Hope Asylum in Dartmouth.

He died in February 1886 in Dartmouth, Canada, at the age of 42.  The whereabouts of where he was buried remains a mystery to this day!

Thomas Nickerson - The Very First (52 Ancestors - #18)

While in Cleveland last week I noticed they had quite a grand cemetery.  It was so beautiful as we drove past I texted a close friend who knows my tree as well as she knows her own and I asked her if I had any relatives buried in Cleveland as I so wanted a reason to go poking around the stones.

Prior to starting to REALLY research my family I knew of The Nickerson Family Association (http://nickersonassoc.org) located in Chatham, Massachusetts.  It has been a wonderful resource for me as they assisted me in identifying my lines to the Mayflower (Steven Hopkins) and to the Daughters of the American Revolution.  My Uncle Joe had their original black binders of all Nickerson's (there were about six of them).  That publication morphed into encyclopedic books that are worth their weight in gold.  I have two of the books detailing the various lines and they are now in the process of writing additional books.  My only regret is that the Association is located quite a distance from my home.  The bonus is that their website is pretty robust and they are very responsive when you write.

The Nickerson Family "Encyclopedia"

Their first book, "The Nickerson Family: Parts 1-3" really gives great information about how the Nickerson name evolved as well as the meaning of the name.  They have old maps in the book, some pen and ink photos, a great Nickerson shield and a well researched family genealogy.

The book talks about my 12th great grandfather Thomas Nickerson and it states:  "Thomas Nickerson born in Norwich, England about 1515 was a plaintiff in Chancery in 1568.  He was buried at St. John's Timberhill, Norwich, February 25, 1584-5.  He married MARGARET RUDD, daughter of Richard of Norwich; issue, a son" whose name was also Thomas.   

NOTE:  If you are a Nickerson who is even remotely interested in genealogy, The Nickerson Family Association is very much worth joining and their books are a great buy.  The Association has a reunion each year which I'm looking forward to attending soon.  It looks like great fun.  When I was down there researching my family last fall I met one woman who was my 7th AND my 8th cousin and another person who was my 8th cousin!  How cool, right!?