Found it!
When searching through stacks of papers left behind,
eventually those important ones will surface. In this case, it was a yellowed
envelope with the words, “Birth Certificate” written across the front, that
yielded me the information I sought.
I had never known exactly where my aunt, Sara Jacqueline
Davis, was born. Oh, of course, it had to be Florida, because that was where her mother’s
family was from. But the family of Rupert Charles McClellan had moved a few
times over the years. Starting from the family property in Suwannee County,
long before Florida had even become a state, to the small town of Fort Meade,
where R. C. McClellan served as city mayor as well as the town’s dentist, I had
been able to track that.
The 1920 census had shown an as-yet-unmarried “Rubie B.”
McClellan in her father’s home there in Fort Meade.
Perhaps a sign of the times, Rubie’s entry in the 1920 census included her
occupation as a telegrapher for Western Union.
When—and where—she decided to marry Jack R. Davis, I’ve yet to ascertain. I
know the family’s oral tradition on this, but I’m not finding any details that
match up to that entry in the Davis
family Bible.
As we’ve already seen, by 1925, the couple had traveled to Oelwein, Iowa—undoubtedly
to find employment for Jack. But by 1926—at least, according to my aunt’s birth
certificate—the family had returned to Rubie’s roots in Florida. And now, with a copy of that birth
certificate—a certified copy, no less—I could find the town in which my aunt was
born.
Better yet, I could even learn their current address: 2804 Jefferson Street.
Wait! That address sounds familiar! And it is. According to the 1930 census, it’s the same address showing
for Rubie’s parents, Rupert and Sara McClellan, who were now living in Tampa.
As all the dots start getting connected, my mind is racing
to other details I’ve hoarded of the family's memorabilia. What
used to be “just a picture” of a toddler in someone’s front yard—I had presumed
it was my mother, apparently around the time of my aunt's birth—may turn out to be
a photograph set in the yard of that very same house in Tampa.
Love a "Eureka" moment!
ReplyDeleteI do, too, Wendy--especially after racking my brain to try and remember all those Florida cities the family had mentioned over the years. Couldn't remember which one was the one!
DeleteI had to look at a map to see where Oelwein, Iowa was!! Goodness... I wonder what work he found there? It is really "no wheres!"
ReplyDeleteYes, it was in the middle of nowhere--at least that's how my mom described it, based on her mother's recollections. Of course, my mom wouldn't have been able to remember it: the family was out of there long before she would be able to remember anything.
DeleteI get the feeling, from my grandmother's descriptions, that the place was quite rural. I have no idea how my grandfather wound up there, looking for work, but I suspect it had some connection to railroad work. Must have heard about it through the grapevine. "Social media" back then was quite different--but still quite functional.
http://visulate.com/property/7528126 has a photo of the house across the street. Built in 1928. Google Street view shows a vacant lot at 2803- and then a house so overgrown one can't see it at 2801. 2805 appears to have a similar porch.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing that link, Iggy. I had tried Google Street View with no success. While at first I thought maybe the vacant lot was the one, I noticed that Google only gave odd-numbered street addresses, no matter which side of the street I was viewing. Something doesn't add up there. For all I know, 2804 may be long gone--or one of those other homes, just mislabeled.
DeleteOh I love the old photos they make a story come alive:)
ReplyDeleteWell, I now have had my old-photos stock replenished, and hopefully will be able to bring a few more stories alive for you this month.
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