June Crocker from Obituary A Grave Beginning

By the time I met Broccoli, his battle with the Friends had already lasted longer than the Revolutionary War. “I’m gonna go after them with a vengeance,” Broccoli told me from his basement in Pelham Manor. He apologized for how long it was taking, two hours and counting, to talk through what he believed to be the “many tentacles” of the vast conspiracy against him, not to mention his entire family history. The genealogical tree, he told me, includes the Broccolis of Calabria, who, as Domenic tells the tale, crossed cauliflower with rabe and named a vegetable after themselves — not true, according to broccoli experts — and the Broccolis that control the James Bond franchise. (Despite having never met them, he has a copy of the New York Times obituary for one of the Bond Broccolis on his office wall next to a photo of his graduation from the Culinary Institute of America.) Broccoli was only beginning to explain where he fit in when his wife called from upstairs to say that dinner was starting in five minutes and he’d better be there.

Please read the most beautifully concise and insane distillation of the illness called Being An American that is somehow not an overwritten lit mag short story but real life. A Bronx small business tyrant who owns four IHOP locations. Revolutionary War Reenactors. Accusations of reverse-grave robbing (planting bones). The Federal Bureau of Investigation. Lies. Deceit. Betrayal. Powdered wigs. Themed dining experiences. If its not being optioned in Hollywood this very second I'll my phone

Top five wombs in Arknights??

5. Surtr

Surtr's womb is the perfect tutorial mode to get your feet (and various other limbs and apendages) wet. You'd normally think that one as feisty as Surtr would pose you great duress, but that couldn't be further from the truth. Her womb is in fact much like Jungle Hijinx, the first level of Donkey Kong Country: Smooth, simple, and holds your hand throughout, hoping you learn the tools of the trade so you can challenge bigger, meaner wombs. Surtr's lack of lore makes the whole trip, honestly, very simple and appealing to the novice, since you don't have to think about it too much and can experiment plenty, as long as you don't mind not receiving much of a challenge of your abilities in return. I rate Surtr's Training Mode out of ten. The only problem with Surtr is that sometimes her memories get scrambled, and she calls you names that aren't yours, and then she starts wondering why she's called out that name in particular, but then it goes nowhere because Hypergryph hasn't given her lore. It's just kinda awkward.

4. Ch'en

Now here's where the real Ark Knights: The Knights of Tomorrow really begins. Steel yourself to face some truly unsightly catacombs, as Ch'en's womb is much like a Floridan suburban garage sale: Dirty, cheap and colossal. However, hidden beneath those suitably hoggish beef curtains lies an obstacle course of ecstasy, sizzling with lore and development to truly give any cylinder out there a cavern that is as challenging to please as it is to fill. It is a relatively safe environment, but one that will demand you know your rotation, since the DPS check is rather steep, so be sure to meld properly.

3. Ptilopsis

Now here's where real Clitoris Centurions and Ballsack Berserkers congregate to test their vim and vigor to the utmost limits, journeymen need not apply! Access to this sacrosanct marriage of flesh and technology is restricted only to top Doctors with many an expedition into the moist depths of carnal communion, with various victories in the damp, soggy sauna of star-struck sensation, with a black belt in hand-to-gland combat. If you wish to mash pissers with Ptilopsis, you must prepare accordingly, as a myriad of challenges lies between your weasel and her nest.

(Pictured above: A valiant Doctor perishes trying to reach Ptilopsis' Sector G)

If you have confidence in your muscles, the desire to test your brawn and brain to the ultimate limit, and won't get turned off from doing the horizontal mambo with a woman named Joyce, then Ptilopsis' womb is a place you cannot skip.

2. Skadi

You completed your training in the Sarkaz Stretch.

You navigated your way through the Pig Park.

You even managed to avoid an Owl Obituary. Respect!

But nothing, not even these accolades, can prepare you for the Abyssal Armageddon.

Be fooled not, valiant swashbuckler, for behind those gentle eyes and that gentle disposition lies the musculature that decimated a living god. What makes you think you can challenge it?

But, at the same time... Did not Mankind look upon the Everest and proclaim climbing it naught but a hobby? The heart of Mankind is with you. Love guides your meat, and justice gives it strength. For all of humankind's sake, you must reach the depths of this crevasse, and inscribe upon it your kin's redemption with letters of fire.

A test of pure, raw resilience where the very fiber of your being will be tested to the utmost limit: In but one quiver of pleasure, you might simply be crushed. A test of pure fundamentals, a battlefield that is a creepy as it is wet, a hunting ground for the unsuited, and the grave of the unsung.

Dare you milk the tightfisted brass with one who bested a God?

(HINT: The Tiger Drop, which negates all damage, may well be your only recourse. I hope your timing is impeccable, as a frame lost is a life lost. Yours.)

1. ?????????

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

The Scottish Suffragette Agnes Henderson Brown was born on April 12th 1866 in Edinburgh.

The term ‘suffragette’ was invented in 1906 by that bastion of everything bad, the Daily Mail, as meant to be a belittling epithet, but the women turned it around and adopted it as a badge of honour.

Nannie Brown, as she later became known as was born at 125 Princes Street, which is slap bang opposite the Castle. The street in those days would have been mainly a residential one, as it was meant to be in the plans for the New Town, George Street was meant to be the main shopping area.

Their father was interested in social and political reform and the house became a centre of cultural activity. The Dad ran a number of fruit shops under the title of William Brown & Sons he trained his daughters, Agnes and Jessie, well and refused to submit to laws that he objected to, he was an activist for women’s rights. His opposition to taxes that differentiated between genders caused him to end up in the notorious Calton Gaol in Edinburgh.

Agnes and her sister Jessie were among the first women to be seen on bicycles in Scotland. The safety bicycle was the direct ancestor of today’s machines. With a slight adaptation they attracted thousands of women to cycling and some historians point to the safety bicycle as the beginnings of suffrage, women’s rights and feminism.

Nannie and Jessie were known to heckle parliamentary candidates at meetings, Nannie was also a writer of stories, lectures, plays and articles. She was a member of The Scottish Women's Rural Institute, as she grew older and unable to participate as much in demonstrations, her house in Castle Street became a haven for the SWRI who would seek out advice from her. They would hold ‘Scots evenings’ or ‘Dickens evenings’, at which stories, songs, and sketches were performed.

She also participated in societies such as the Edinburgh Dickens Fellowship, learned to type, this might seem trivial, but women were marginalised back then, hence the suffrage movement sprung up to right these things, it was said in an obituary the Nannie was the first woman to learn to type in all of Scotland.

Nannie Brown died on 1st December 1943 at 3 Blackford Road, Edinburgh and is buried beside her parents at The Dean Cemetery, sadly Wiki reports that the grave has been vandalised and is not the easiest to locate, I must try and seek it out the next time I am on a wander down that way.

The third pic is from Ste[hen Dickson at Chaos Project who seek to remember unsung or undersung heroes and especially heroines whose graves are lost or forgotten. Go have a look at the page, it’s not been updated for a while, but has some interesting posts, they don’t go into detail, but one that caught my eye was “ Remembering the 115,000 unmarked graves in St Cuthbert's Churchyard “

Terrarium Lights, Pt. 3.1

Last time on Terrarium Lights: Samuel was taking his state of unbeing rather hard, had a literal lightbulb moment, and vanished into thin air. (Next part >>here)

Gail was beginning to get concerned.

That night, she had cleaned up the mess in a mixture of confusion and worry, carefully scouring the floor for broken glass, and wondering what in Heaven's name had happened.

This seemed similar to the first time he had vanished, so perhaps it was a way of him processing what was going on. She wondered how many days it would take for him to reappear this time, and hoped he was doing okay, wherever he was.

It was almost a week, and he still hadn't shown up.

Michael had been delayed, again, but in the Lord’s mercy he was due back in the next couple of days, so maybe he'd have some idea of what to do about the situation. But for now, Gail worried.

Something had happened, clearly—Samuel had been startled and upset by something before he’d broken the terrarium—and, well, how does one track down a ghost? There was the possibility of searching obituaries, or the hospital in town, but those had limited value. They might give her more information (and that was a powerfully vague 'might'), but they were unlikely to tell her where Samuel had gone, or, more importantly, what had happened to him after his presumed death.

Finally, she decided she had to do something, so she went by the church and the graveyard in the off-chance he went back to visit the graves. No luck; he wasn't there.

It had been an unsure shot, but it was disappointing to have it miss.

She took a moment to pray in the chapel again, squared her shoulders, and headed back for another day of waiting.

On the way back, the distant lighthouse caught her eye. Gail remembered what she had been trying to the other day, when they’d been writing information down and forming plans—they had meant to go to the lighthouse.

She stood for a long moment at the crossroads.

It was something of a trek to get there, and it was only a faint hunch. She didn’t even know if Samuel remembered that the lighthouse existed. He hadn’t brought it up since the churchyard visit, at least.

But she had come all the way here because there was an itch in her bones, and the thought of sitting still and waiting when there was an option to explore flared it up again. Still was not an option for her right now, and even if it didn’t do anything, a long walk would be good for her. She was searching, and by golly she was going to do a thorough job of it.

Straightening her hat on her head and offering an extra prayer for guidance and wisdom, she strode out towards the lighthouse to find what might be there.

*

The lighthouse was not as secluded as some lighthouses often were. It was decently close to the city, and along a prominent coastal road (if a tad off the beaten path), so the lighthouse keepers also ran a sort of bakery café for passerbys. Both Mr. and Mrs. Seward enjoyed baking, so it was a good passtime for them, and a decent way to bring in extra income for upkeep and the like. Mr. Seward mostly attended to his duties as the Head Lighthouse Keeper, but when he had the time and energy he would help in the kitchen, while Mrs. Seward ran the bulk of it. It being both a pretty area and a distinct landmark meant they got rather more business than one would expect, and soon became a fairly common spot for smaller cultural events and gatherings.

There were not many people about as Gail made her way up the path—a peddler with his steamwheel, a horse, plus a gearmount or two—so it did not encroach too heavily upon the quiet air of the woods, or the swooshing of the sea waves just beyond the tree line. The closer she got, the stronger rose the enticing smell of fresh bread from the windows of the café, built against the side of the lightkeeper's house.

Gail was at the door, wondering if she should go in—after all, Samuel had expressed discomfort with the idea of being around people, so it was likely he would be in a more isolated spot—when a scramble of movement, disappearing around the corner, caught Gail's eye.

If it wasn't anything related to her quest, it was at least bound to be something interesting—she hoped—so she quietly made her way around the edge of the café.

Samuel was hovering uncertainly in the corner between the back of the café and the house, as messy as she had ever seen him, curled into himself and with wide eyes like a rabbit that's just been targeted by a hawk.

Gail stopped short in shocked recognition, before putting her hands on her hips, the part of her still wading through the surprise half-wanting to give him the piece of her mind that had sprouted at her surge of relief and confusion. The rest of her quelled the impulse, more concerned at his scared state.

He froze upon spotting her, with a wild look, like he was about to dart away again. Gail got the impression he was scared of her.

Gail pursed her lips, regretting not knowing his full name. "Samuel, lad, young man," she said as the pieces stopping whirring about and suddenly clicked together, "have you been keeping away from my place because you feel bad about that terrarium?"

He winced visibly.

She shook her head, unable to quench a laugh. "Good heavens above, you think I'd get mad at you for an accident like that? It’s a small matter in the end, and can be redone. More importantly, where have you even been this last week? Are you alright?"

At her laugh, he shrank back in confusion.

"Well…" he looked at her pleadingly. "You had worked really hard on it and had been keeping it and taking care of it for so long, and then I ruined it because I messed up and overreacted to a different thing, which was the lightbulb, which was something you were kind enough to provide me with—and also you've been doing so much and going out of your way to help me after I invaded your garden, and I've just been a drain on you throughout all of that and haven't given anything back. And then I broke the terrarium. So I thought I should try and figure something out on my own instead of leaning on you too much and maybe breaking something else in the process or just continuing to inconvenience you while you’re just trying to live your life."

Gail put her hands on her hips. "Well, young man, it seems as if you've got a lot to say for yourself and not a lot of sense about the matter. Why, you didn't ask me for any of that. You weren’t somehow imposing your will on me, I was the one that volunteered—if I hadn’t wanted to or couldn’t have or had some reason to keep you away, I could have simply not helped you. But I did, because I wanted to. So please believe I'm being honest when I tell you that I helped you because I wanted to, and I still want to."

There was a noise from inside, like someone calling out questioningly. She realized she was standing behind the building and talking loudly at what might possibly look to others as empty air. Taking a few steps further towards Samuel, she pulled her voice back to a more normal volume. "We can go talk this over somewhere else, if you'd rather. Don't want to scare the locals." She winked at him, hoping to lighten the mood.

The miserable droop of his shoulders and face indicated that he did not share her amusement.

"Doesn't matter," he muttered. "They can't see or hear me."

"Ah.” She stopped chuckling, letting her pang of sadness at his response manifest on her face. Cheerfulness would have to be put back in her pocket for when he needed it. “So you tested it out?"

He nodded, and did not meet her eyes.

Previous

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you should make a fic involving stephanie, just putting it out there

So, this fic might be ooc but I actually like how it turned out. This is somewhat more wholesome and cutesy vs the other fics I've written but Stephanie deserves it. Anyway, I present, "Oh Stefany, Stefanie, Stephany"

Stephanie knows she should be crying. After all funerals are meant to be sad, that is unless you were having a celebration of life. But in her case this couldn’t be any farther from the truth. The person in question was her mother but even knowing this would be the last time she’d see her didn’t change her attitude.

It was a rather small affair, with less than 20 people. Her mother was never one for friends. Stephanie was in no way in charge of setting up the funeral despite being the daughter of the deceased. It was up to the rest of the small family to take over, whether that be because they wanted to help ease the burden or because they thought that she was going to ruin it she doesn’t know.

Her hands grip down on the obituary, an ugly pastel purple. She looks down to read it and see what brilliant lies they wrote about her mother. Because heaven forbid that people write about how people were actually like. Not everyone lights up a room or would give someone the shirt off their back, especially not her mom.

In Loving Memory

-Gladys Foamwire-

Gladys was a sweet woman taken far too soon. She spent her last days alongside her daughter Stefany…

‘Stefany’?

They couldn’t even be bothered to spell her name correctly. Sure, the feeling stung, but what more could she expect. No one knows the real her, the real Stephanie. She’ll just have to learn to be ok with that.

“Hi, I’m Stephanie, here to sign the lease.”

A balding man grins at her. He opens the door wider and ushers her in.

“Of course, Of course! Follow me this way.”

After the death of her Mom, she had to do some soul searching. For so long she had been tied down to her mother that now that she was finally free she didn’t know what to do. But she’s made her decision now. She’s ready to start a new chapter in her life.

She was going to buy this rusty old building and turn it into something of her own. Redecorate it from the ground up and prove that she has what it takes to stand out from the crowd. It was going to be perfect, and even better yet, she’s sure that her Mom would be rolling over in her grave if she found out.

“Well, it’s great to see you! I have all the paperwork filled out already. Feel free to look it over and make sure everything is correct and then sign away!”

Stephanie’s eyes skim the paper. Date of birth, correct. Today’s date, correct. Name, corr-

Buyer: Stefanie

“Um… my name is Stephanie as in ‘S t e p h a n i e’, not with a f.”

“Oh, my apologies, Stephanie. I’ll have a new paper printed right away. Do you mind coming back a little bit later?”

She holds back the urge to sigh. Was it that hard to spell her name? But she shouldn’t care anyway. She won’t have to deal with this man for very much longer anyway.

“Sure, that’s fine.”

Moralton isn’t a place for the youth. There are very few things to do and even fewer for those non church going. That’s why every once in a while Stephanie ventures out of her comfort zone and leaves for the night. It’s how she ended up in this situation to begin with.

“Hey!”

The woman beside her practically yells in her ear. It was already a loud atmosphere, obviously in a club, but the girl's voice wasn’t helping matters.

She was short with reddish brown hair draped over her shoulder. They’d talked off and on throughout the night saying her name is Victoria but it was clear that she’d had more drinks than she could handle.

“I’m about to leave but here take this! I’ll see you later babe!”

The woman stubbles forward and shoves a napkin in her hands. A person who she could only assume was her friend waves at her apologetically. Apparently this was Victoria’s usual drunk behavior.

“Byeeee!”

The napkin was written on with plain black ink with a subtle mark of red lipstick. It reads ‘Call me Stephany, it’s your girl Vic xoxo’ with a hastily written phone number on the side.

She had spelled her name wrong. Typical. It’s no big deal. Besides she’d much rather have a true connection with someone rather than whatever this was. She’ll be ok, she always was.

“Do you think that getting a cross tattoo would be blasphemous?” Orel asks in his usual innocent way.

“Orel, you know that I don’t know about these things. Why do you want a tattoo anyway?”

The boy clasps his hands together “Well, some kid at school told me tha-”

“Orel, please don’t let what other people say dictate your life. You’re too short, shortie, to be worried about what other people think. What until you're a bit taller.”

“Fine, I guess you're right. Well, I’ve to get to church bef-. I almost forgot! We were talking about how we all need to be appreciative and giving in church the other week. How it’s important for us to let go of all our worldly possessions. So, I have a gift for you since I won’t be needing it anymore. I’ve become one with nature!”

He throws a little box up on the counter with a smile and takes a look at the clock.

“Sorry, but I’ve really got to get going, Bye!”

Orel runs out the door leaving Stephanie alone with only the box with her. The note on top of it says From Orel to Stephanie. She couldn’t help but laugh, at least someone spelled it right.

Stephanie used to think that no one cared to know the real her. But maybe she was wrong, she was just looking in all the wrong places.

She delicately peels off the paper and opens the box to see a shiny gold key. How strange. On further inspection she sees a keychain attached to it reading ‘Orel’s house key’. What had that boy gotten into this time. Had he been sleeping outside for the last week?

“OREL! Get back here you can’t give this to me!”

Can we hear a little bit about Little Phil? I've been having a hard time finding information about him :((

Philip Hamilton II was born on the 1st or 2nd of June, 1802. According to his biographer son, Allan McLane Hamilton, his birthday was on the 2nd, while his New York Herald obituary as well as his grave claims it to be the 1st. He was the youngest of Alexander Hamilton's and Elizabeth ‘Schuyler’ Hamilton's children. He was named in memory of his oldest brother, Philip Hamilton, whom died a year prior to his birth on the 24th of November, after a fatal duel with George I. Eacker caused after an aggressive encounter at the Park Theater.

(Philip Hamilton II in 1880)

In a letter from Hamilton to Elizabeth, dated; October, 1803, Hamilton passingly mentions of one year old Phil;

“I shall be glad to find that my dear little Philip is weaned, if circumstances have rendered it prudent. It is of importance to me to rest quietly in your bosom. Adieu my beloved.”

(source)

Phil was only two years old when his father would die from a duel between him and Aaron Burr on the 12th of July, 1804. Probably due to his young age, he was not present at his father's funeral, as reported only Alexander Jr, James, John, and William were there;

“On the stage erected in the portico of Trinity Church, Mr. Gouverneur Morris, having four of General Hamilton’s sons, the eldest about sixteen and the youngest about six years of age, with him, rose and delivered to the immense concourse in front an extemporary Oration,”

(source)

While lacking not only the memories of his father, Phil also lacked a decently wealthy childhood unlike his brothers and sisters. Due to his father's death at his earlier beginning stages of life, Phil grew up with a rather unfortunate childhood. With his widowed mother's poverty without the support of her husband, McLane says Phil “was denied those advantages accorded to his elder brothers, and had, in every sense, to make his own way.”

Because of the substandard situation the family was knee deep in due to their father's abrupt death, Phil, unlike all of his brothers, never made it to college. He was instead taught by his older brother, James Alexander Hamilton, who had attended the same college as AH, King's college. (Now Columbia college).

October 28, 1828, Elizabeth wrote to Timothy Pickering requesting for information about property promised to help support her children now that Phil II had come of age, twenty seven years old;

“My youngest son has come of age, it will be doing me a particular favor, if you can make me some statement, respecting the property the gentlemen of your city were so kind as to make my children as a Remembrance of their father as I am entirely unacquainted with [...] who is the agent, also what your suppose is the balance.”

(source)

Phil was described as being a very kindhearted and happy man. He was known for a witty yet lighthearted sense of humor, and being very cheerful and sympathetic. But also old fashioned for his time, and researchful.

Allan McLane recalled his father as;

“a delightful man, of pleasing personality, a keen sense of humor, and a harmless kind of wit, which led him everlastingly to chaff his sons, but never to hurt our feelings.”

(source)

Phil was described in his later life by the New York Herald as;

“a man of merry mood, brimming over with anecdotes of the olden days, when the earth was to him fresh and golden. The new has no such charm for him as the old. He loves old houses, old trees, old books, old wine and old friends.”

(source)

He was even described as being very charitable, and was highly respected and adored, also a very affectionate father despite him never truly knowing his own. As the Poughkeepsie Eagle-News says in a newspaper dated the 10th of July, 1884;

“Philip Hamilton's many beautiful traits of character are too well known to be referred in detail. His kindness of heart brought him in contact with the poor and needy, and he gave them advice and help of substantial kind. No one was too humble or too poorly dressed for him to stop and chat with, and his venerable head was familiar to everyone. He was particularly fond of children, and it was his habit to fill his pockets with bright small coins or candies when he went out to give to them. He was unostentatious about his charities, and in fact about everything he did, was a courteous, high-minded gentleman of the old school. His navy associations had given him a cheeriness, and his conversation had the true flavor of the sea.”

(source)

Despite the unfortunate circumstances, Phil became very successful in his career and future. Phil's son described his career as “a hard, up-hill professional life,” with legal clients that included a “very great” number of the poor, especially sailors, and much of his time “given up to unselfish acts.” Phil had practiced Law in New York, and served as an assistant United States Attorney under his older brother, James, during the 1830s. As a prosecutor, he also achieved a notable success in his trial and conviction of the pirate, Charles Gibbs — Gibbs was then after sentenced to death for the murder of a ship's captain, and mate, and was hanged on the 22nd of April, 1831.

In 1842, Phil, at age 40, married Rebecca McLane, and together the two had two sons, Louis (July 21, 1844 - November 27, 1868) and Allan McLane Hamilton (October 6, 1848 - November 23, 1919). She was the daughter of Louis McLane, whom his grandson was named after, the 10th Treasury Secretary. Allan McLane wrote in his memoir, Recollections of an Alienist and said of his mother that “she sang and played delightfully, and was exceedingly bright,”

(Allan, age three, and his older brother Louis, age eight, 1851)

Later in 1851, during the California Gold Rush, (The California Gold Rush, lasted from 1848 to 1855, it was a gold rush that began on January 24, 1848, when gold was found by James W. Marshall at Sutter's Mill in Coloma, California) Phil moved to San Francisco to practice law as a partner of his wife's brother, Robert Milligan McLane — Though Phil returned to New York just after one or two years. Phil not only just practiced Law, but his cases and clients were usually in admiralty cases, (Admiralty law consists of both domestic law on maritime activities, and private international law governing the relationships between private parties operating or using ocean-going ships.) Amongst his clients included Commodore Silas H. Stringham, and pirate Gibbs as mentioned previously. 

In 1861, the American Civil War sparked. Allan took part from 1861, until 1863, in “repeated drillings, and marchings in the Rochester Home Guards, a sort of Boy Scout organisation.” While his older brother in July of 1866 became a captain, and was the youngest officer of his rank in the regular service, in the newly formed 7th U.S. Cavalry, which was under the command of then-Lieutenant Colonel George Armstrong Custer.

Though unfortunately, November 27th, 1868, Louis, age twenty four, was killed while leading the first charge of the troops in Custer's attack, at the Battle of Washita River. The battle plan placed Louis's squadron in the center of the formation, to charge the encampment while mounted. He marshalled his squadron “in splendid style right up to the enemy's lodges,” where he “fell dead from his horse, shot through the heart by a bullet from a Lancaster rifle” in the hands of a combatant concealed in a wigwam. A surgeon later wrote that the “ball entered about five inches below the left nipple, and emerged near inferior angle of right scapula. Death was instantaneous.”

Allan describes his brothers death as;

“His death was, of course, a crushing blow to my father and mother, for their hopes were, naturally, centered upon their first born, who certainly in many ways reflected the inheritance of the great genius of his grandfather, Alexander Hamilton.”

(source)

(Captain Louis McLane Hamilton, Little Bighorn Battlefield National Monument)

The family would suffer another death when Eliza Hamilton Holly, Phil's older sister, died October 17, 1859. She seems to have been the one to hold many of her father's papers after her mother passed, as the remaining brothers, Alexander Jr, James, John Church, and Phil, struggled to come to a satisfactory conclusion about her will and inheritance. During this family debate, Alexander Jr had apparently taken off with some of his father's documents without any explanation. As Phil expressed his annoyance with this when in 1859, Phil created a calendar of letters written by his father that Holly had been holding. Each description is of a letter, but one to Alexander Hamilton from Sarah Alexander, Lady Stirling, dated; the 26th of June, 1801, Phil remarks that it had been “taken by my brother Alexr Hamilton from the house of my sister E H Holly immediately after her death without any colour of right or authority.”

After the Civil War ended in 1865, Phil became a Judge Advocate of the Naval Retiring Board, at the Brooklyn Navy Yard. Though thereafter, he was said to carry on a very quiet life.

Phil was also said to have been a “mild abolitionist” according to his son Allan. Phil assisted the Underground Railroad (The Underground Railroad was a network of clandestine routes and safe houses established in the United States during the early- to mid-19th century. It was used by enslaved African Americans primarily to escape into free states and Canada.) in the escape of at least one slave by concealing the fugitive in his cellar until he could safely resume his travel to Canada, as Allan says;

“I recall this very well, for my brother and I saw a very black and ragged man in the cellar who was being fed by my father himself, and kept until such time as he could safely resume his journey. The mystery of why he was in our house, for which no explanation was given at the time, impressed us then intensely, and our imaginings, it is needless to say, ran riot. After President Lincoln’s great proclamation we were told all, but it was not until after my father’s death in 1884 that Mr. Dana referred in the Sun to the latter’s many acts of self-sacrificing kindness in this direction.”

(source)

(Photos of Allan McLane)

July 9, 1884, Philip Hamilton II died, “comparatively poor,” in Poughkeepsie, New York.

(Philip and Rebecca McLane Hamilton's home in Poughkeepsie, New York.)

Mystery of Frances Appleton Packard

This past June I wrote about the importance of LGBTQ+ ancestors, stating that there are more queer ancestors within my family tree, and pointed out my fourth cousin five times removed, Frances Appleton Packard (1836-1902), noting that she "was always listed as single and never noted as marrying anyone, which can be a clue that the person is a queer individual". [1] In this post, I'd like to focus on her life.

Reprinted from my Packed with Packards! WordPress.

Frances was born in Brunswick, a town within Cumberland County, Maine on March 28, 1836 to Alpheus Spring Packard, Sr., a professor of Greek and Latin at Bowdoin College, and Frances Elizabeth Appleton, said to be a "woman of rare excellence". Unfortunately, when Frances A. was three years old, her mother would die for reasons not yet known. Frances A. next appears in the 1850 census, living with her father, Alpheus Sr., her five brothers (Charles A., William A., George L., Alpheus Jr., Robert L.), her stepmother Caroline W. Bartels (Alpheus Sr.'s second wife), and two boarders: 12-year-old George McLellan and 17-year-old Joanna Sillers. By 1860, however, she would not be living in the same household as her parents. Where she was living that year remains a mystery. But, one can make the supposition that she was still living in Brunswick, as she was living with her family in 1870 with her father and stepmother. This would be unchanged by 1880, as she still lived in Brunswick with her parents and an 18-year-old servant named Margaret Cusick in the household. [2]

Further evidence of her residence in Brunswick is made clear by one document: the school catalogue of Abbott Female Academy. She attended there between 1851 and 1852. She was among many married women, many of whom were from towns in New England or elsewhere. Abbott Academy, based in Andover, Massachusetts, was a well-known independent boarding prep school which was aimed at educating young women, with women proving key to its success, and was beginning to develop its robust curriculum. She would not be a student there the following term, from 1852 to 1853. She would only be briefly mentioned elsewhere, and additional records show that she was living in Bath, Maine (first on 21 Linden and later on 894 Washington), through the 1890s and into the early 1900s. In these records, she is never noted as marrying anyone else, always shown noted as being unmarried. [3] She would die on July 20, 1902 in Bath from bronchitis pneumonia and be noted as a housekeeper:

This image combines records from Maine, U.S., Death Records, 1761-1922 for Frances Appleton Packard, 1902, P, Maine State Archives; Cultural Building, 84 State House Station, Augusta, ME 04333-0084; 1892-1907 Vital Records; Roll Number: 43, Images 1-2. Charles, her brother, is noted as providing information about her.

She would be buried in Pine Grove Cemetery alongside her parents. Her Find A Grave entry only says two words currently: "Never married." [4] There's much more that can be said about her, however. A search on newspapers.com uncovered an obituary in the Sun-Journal which described her as a "woman of culture", a "deep student of literature" and member of the Fortnightly club. It also notes that she lived in Brunswick from her birth, in 1836 until the death of her father in 1884, and then moved to Bath, where she lived, meeting "many warm-hearted friends" which he kept until her death. It further notes her membership in the Congregational Church of Brunswick and later in the Winter street church in Bath. She was noted as dying, at the age of 63, at the home of her brother Charles who lived in Bath as well. Other notices pointed out that William, the sister of Frances, would administer his estate. [5]

We also learn, from the newspapers, that Frances visited the Bath Military and Naval Orphan Asylum in February 1898, where it turns out she worked as a "lady visitor" since at least January 1895. She is not to be confused with Frances Elizabeth Packard (1880-1971), daughter of Alpheus Jr. (Frances A.'s brother) and Elizabeth Derby Walcott who was said to be a "remarkably interesting young woman" who went on a trip to Europe, Asia, and Africa, from 1898 to 1899, and reportedly had "many friends" in Auburn and Lewiston. As for Frances A., one article confirmed her trip to Liverpool in 1899. She was clearly more than someone who was unmarried whose nickname was purportedly "Fanny", but a person who had a full life. [6]

The Bath Military and Naval Orphan Asylum was a place that helped out soldiers' orphans, and "half orphans of officers, soldiers, seamen and marines" who died while in combat or from wounds, injuries, or disease. This may be why Frances A. was listed as a housekeeper on her death record. It also included soldiers’ and sailor’s orphan children and grandchildren of any gender, specifically veterans of the Civil War. By January 1903, there were 69 children in the asylum plus 18 who were admitted and 25 taken in by other homes or relatives. Some children had been "farmed to outside homes" but came back to the asylum for "one reason or another".

In 1892, Frances A. voices her views on the aforementioned asylum in 1892 and shows that she is impressed by it [7]

In sum, much of the life of Frances Appleton Packard remains a mystery, complicated by the fact there were others who had similar names, leading to a propensity of false drops. Additionally, while she was noted as single throughout her life, I could find no indication that she ever had a partner. The supposition, based on what I said at the beginning of this post, that those listed as single may be queer is still a good one, but in the case of Frances A., all we can say is that she was single and unmarried throughout her life, as no evidence points to anything else. After all, thought her life, Maine had in place a sodomy law which imprisoned people for ten years, after a revision in 1840, for the crime of sodomy (anal sex, oral sex, or bestiality), laws which are usually used against gay or lesbian people. It would only be repealed in 1976. Even so, some have said that Maine has a "rich LGBT history that is relatively unknown". Interestingly, Brunswick is among the towns recommended for where LGBTQ people should move, while Bath is not. The exact history of LGBTQ people in those towns is still fuzzy, although one source said that "rural Maine gays who had little support in their small towns." That was likely the case for Brunswick and Bath, perhaps more for the latter than the former. [8] In sum, the story of Frances A., living in a town based in shipbuilding (Bath) and the center of activity for the Pejepscot region (Brunswick) remains unwritten, but this article is just the start.

© 2023 Burkely Hermann. All rights reserved.

Notes

[1] There are other ancestors that I believe might be gay or otherwise queer, since they never married: my great-granduncles Harold "Harry" Cyrus Packard (1907-1975), Herbert Miles Packard (1898-1966), and Thomas "Tom" Theodore Packard (1902-1975) (this would be funny as he was apparently staunchly Republican), my great-grandaunts Olive Martha Packard (1896-1969) and Rachel May Packard (1900-1933), my second great-uncle Joseph B. Mills (1844-1900), my first cousin two times removed Giles Franklin Whitley (1911-1970) who died in 1970. The same is the case for my great-granduncle Joseph Winfield Packard (1885-1910), but that is no surprise as he only lived to the age of 24 before a freight train took his life. The same is the case for my first cousin three times removed Harry Tilson Packard (1879-1915), my first cousin three times removed, who died at the age of 36 in Los Angeles, and my second great aunt Mary M. Packard (1862-1887) who died at only 24 years old. I also have a nonbinary cousin, whose name I won't mention here, and on that note, I'd love to find some nonbinary ancestors, although that could be a challenge. There's also the interesting fact that my second great-grandaunt Margaret "Maggie" E. Mills (1854-1920) and father of great-grandaunt Thomas H. Crosgrove (b. 1858) only had a child when they adopted Mabel Hattie Packard (1892-1961), my great-grandaunt who is the child of Cyrus Winfield Packard (1852-1924) and Dorothy "Dora" Ann Mills (1849-1895), adopted by Thomas and Mabel at age 3. Also, Mary Jane Mills (b. 1854) my 2nd great-grand aunt was not married, from the little we know about her, nor was my second great-grand uncle, William Mills (b. 1861), my first cousin three times removed, Joseph Arthur Packard (1891-1911) who died at age 20, my first cousin three times removed, Walter Archie Packard (1903-1928) who died at age 25 when he was crushed by an elevator in the Montgomery Ward building in Albany. Additionally, my second great-granduncle B. Fred "Freddie" Packard (1858-1884) never married, nor did my first cousin four times removed Eva L. Packard (1876-1967), living in Kansas City for over 50 years, my first cousin four times removed Martha Elvira Packard (1880-1957), living in Kansas City like her sister Eva. The same is the case for my fourth great-grandaunt Ruby Packard (1799-1871) who never married and died of old age or my fourth great-grandaunt Sally Packard (1792-1868). Also, my first cousin three times removed Ida Martha Packard (1892-1973) and her husband Andrew Erastus Kenney (1891-1971) never had any children. Then there's Polly Nash Packard (1819-1868), my third great-grandaunt, termed to have a mental illness by censustakers and stayed at home for her whole life.

[2] 1850 United States Federal Census for Frances A Packard, Maine, Cumberland, Brunswick, Year: 1850; Census Place: Brunswick, Cumberland, Maine; Roll: 251; Page: 254b; 1860 United States Federal Census for Alpheus S Packard, Maine, Cumberland, Brunswick, Year: 1860; Census Place: Brunswick, Cumberland, Maine; Roll: M653_437; Page: 58; Family History Library Film: 803437; 1870 United States Federal Census for Frances A Packard, Maine, Cumberland, Brunswick, Year: 1870; Census Place: Brunswick, Cumberland, Maine; Roll: M593_539; Page: 75A; 1880 United States Federal Census for Francis A. Packard, Maine, Cumberland, Brunswick, 024, Year: 1880; Census Place: Brunswick, Cumberland, Maine; Roll: 477; Page: 55C; Enumeration District: 024. I went through all 120 pages of the 1860 United States Federal Census for Brunswick and didn't see anyone who was Frances. Interestingly, there is a family led by a 45-year-old John Mills and 30-year-old Mary Mills on image 80 (of 120).

[3] U.S., College Student Lists, 1763-1924 for Frances A Packard, Massachusetts, Abbott Female Academy, 1879 (date of publication), Image 174 (and page 48); U.S., College Student Lists, 1763-1924, Massachusetts, Abbott Female Academy, 1879 (date of publication), Image 176; https://archive.org/details/memorialalpheuss00litt/page/10/mode/2up (on page 10); U.S., City Directories, 1822-1995 for Frances A Packard, Maine, Bath, 1897, Bath, Maine, City Directory, 1897, Image 134 (Page 131); Boston, Massachusetts, U.S., Book Indexes to Passenger Lists, 1899-1940, (002) Aug. 26, 1899-June 30, 1900, National Archives and Records Administration (NARA); Washington, D.C.; Book Indexes to Boston Passenger Lists, 1899-1940; Microfilm Serial: T790; Microfilm Roll: 2, Image 148; U.S., City Directories, 1822-1995 for Frances A Packard, Maine, Bath, 1902, Bath, Maine, City Directory, 1902, Image 83 (page 161).

[4] Maine, U.S., Nathan Hale Cemetery Collection, 1780-1980 for Frances Packard Appleton, Annis, George F-Austin, John B, Images 194 and 1035.

[5] "Obituary of Miss Frances Appleton Packard, dying at home of her brother, Charles" clip from Sun-Journal, Lewiston, Maine, 21 Jul 1902, Page 7; "Death notices" clip from Kennebec Journal, Augusta, Maine, 30 Jul 1902, Page 5; "William A. Packard is administrator of his sister's estate" clip from Kennebec Journal, Augusta, Maine, 05 Dec 1902, Page 2. She wasn't mentioned in her father's obituary in 1884 weirdly enough.

[6] She is mentioned as a lady visitor at the asylum on page 5 of this report. Also, the "Appleton-Aiken family papers (1806-1934)" Finding Aid put together by the University of Michigan Clements Library, she is listed as unmarried. Also see: "Frances visits the home" clip from Sun-Journal, Lewiston, Maine, 26 Feb 1898, Page 18; "Frances elected as a "lady visitor"" clip from The Lewiston Daily Sun, Lewiston, Maine, 08 Jan 1895, Page 6; "Passengers return from Liverpool" clip from Boston Evening Transcript, Boston, Massachusetts, 23 Sep 1899, Page 4. This article is about the other Frances: "Frances returns from a trip abroad" clip from Sun-Journal, Lewiston, Maine, 14 Oct 1899, Page 8. This Frances was covered in the newspaper more, as in 1901, it was noted that Florence Gallagher, Elise P. Packard, and Jessy L. McClellan, all women who seemed to be unmarried, were Frances' guests at the Mere Point House (see "Frances entertains guests at Mere Point House" clip from Sun-Journal, Lewiston, Maine, 20 Jul 1901, Page 12). It was also shown that this Frances had been to other parties at the house, including one sailed by a Mr. Packard (see "Frances presents a gift" clip from Sun-Journal, Lewiston, Maine, 02 Aug 1895, Page 8; "Opens cottage at Mere Point" clip in Sun-Journal, Lewiston, Maine, 25 Jun 1901, Page 3). This Frances also seemed to be supportive of temperance (see "Elected to temperance temple" clip in Sun-Journal, Lewiston, Maine, 15 Jan 1898, Page 6). This Frances purportedly crossed the Atlantic with Alpheus Jr. during his travels (see page 200 of T.D.A. Cockerwell's Biographical Memoir of Alpheus Spring Packard 1838-1905). She is also not to be confused with the daughter of William Alfred Packard (Frances E's brother) and Susan Breeze Gallagher also named Frances Appleton Packard (born c. 1865) who died at the age of 17 in October 1882.

[7] Twenty-Second Annual Report of the Military and Naval Asylum At Bath, ME. 1892 (Augusta: Burleigh & Flynt, 1892), 8.

[8] Alan Woods in his "The 7 Best Towns in Maine for LGBT Families" article recommends Augusta, Bangor, Bar Harbor, Brunswick, Ogunquit, Portland, and Rockland. Also see "Pride Maine LGBT History: Life and Activism in the 1970s, a panel discussion and exhibit", "Maine LGBT History: Life & Activism in the 70s. Part One", "LGBTQ+ History in Maine: A Documentary History Reader", "LGBT History in Maine 1856-1984", "Great Towns for LGBT Couples in Maine", "Bath library celebrates pride month, marks LGBTQ+ history in Maine".

headcanon &. destiny

⠀ ⠀★  send  headcanon  +  a  word  and  i’ll  write  a  blurb  about  it  !!

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀whenever i think of minjun, i immediately think of the quote :

" this was always going to happen. she's been dead since the beginning. "

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀just because i think his destiny has been sealed ever since the day his father died. minjun was destined to follow him into the grave. maybe he stood a chance, his career was already dying enough, so maybe he didn't have to go with it but — his fate was definitely set in stone as soon as jiwoon had joined no spin. this is how he'd die. and there was nothing minjun could do but blame himself for whatever jiwoon had become, unaware that there was a darkness within that boy long before minjun even met him, that he couldn't have helped him if he tried.

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀it also makes me think of this beautiful reply eggy ( @allkilled / @obituaried if ur not following them literally what's the point ??? ) wrote for me that to this day still FLOORS me because it just !!! it fits everything that became of minjun !!

" and what can I say of you? Burned too bright before you made it? Your soft heart ate you alive from the inside out, and the industry swallowed you up long before I could sink my teeth into you. "

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀minjun has been dead since the beginning, has been a victim of the industry long before he was jiwoon's. he was destined to burn as bright as his fleeting career had, a supernova for the masses to witness in all of his glory. he can only hope that his destiny has left a long lasting impression on those that supported him, that his fans think of him and feel warmth, and that they remember him for what he was, and not what he became.

Perfection

In honor of Valentine's Day, I wrote a love letter.

My love,

I am writing this to describe how much you mean to me.  How your very presence affects my life.  I don't have the courage to tell you in person, so this is the best way I can let you know.

The moment I first saw you; my world just stopped moving.  I felt like we were the only two people around.  Nobody else mattered, but you and me.  I only saw your image in my dreams, but I never thought you were real.  Seeing you sit there at the fountain and reading your book; is a memory I will cherish for the rest of our days.  I was only able to think of one word to describe you, perfection.

Your beautiful hair is the right color and shade.  I could just imagine what it would feel and smell like as I will run my fingers through that majestic mane.  I bet it will smell like lavender.  After all you have a Lavender scent perfume and hand lotion in your locker back in high school, so that would make it your favorite scent.  Which is why I gave you that Lavender body wash, on our anniversary.  Just picturing you scrubbing yourself with it makes me excited.

It was not easy figuring out where you were going after high school, but as soon as I found you, I immediately enrolled and got accepted to that same college.  It was so hard keeping my distance from you.  I could tell that you were not ready for a relationship. It was harder getting rid of those who wanted you for themselves.  I could tell that each one of them got on your nerves, and you hated the attention they gave you.  It is okay now; they will not be interfering with our love anymore.  

The way that they screamed and cried for their lives was pretty laughable.  I could not let them go free.  Even if they promised not to go near you again.  They might have told you about my feelings, and that would have been so humiliating.  I never want you to find out from someone else.  You deserve for me to let you know personally.  At least those bothersome people will not annoy us ever again.

Then after we graduated, you were able to get your dream job in that high end company.  I was so proud of you, that I had to send you those flowers and a diamond necklace.  I was so glad that you liked them since I saw the flowers on your living room coffee table.  I also saw that you wore the diamond necklace every day to work.  I knew that necklace would look perfect on you, but one day you just stopped wearing it.  I instantly thought you forgot about it, or even lost the necklace.  

I got you a new one to replace it, but you did not wear it.  That really hurt my feelings.  Why did you stop wearing the necklace?  You never even attempted to reach for it while getting dressed.  You truly are a sight to behold.  You are so perfect even when you look scared and paranoid, for some reason.  I was so worried when the light in your eyes was beginning to fade.  I wanted to know why you were feeling so fearful.

Then one day you just vanished.  I could not see you at your place anymore.  I was pretty sure the extra cash I slipped into your bank account would help you with rent, and any other bills you might have been behind on.  I was so worried something happened to you.  I nearly lost my mind.  Where did you go?  Why was your apartment empty?  You can't leave me.  You are not allowed to leave me.  

I had a hard time trying to find you.  It almost felt like you disappeared without a trace.  I was so close to ending myself, because without you there is no reason to keep on living.  I had to join you in the afterlife.  It was the only reason you were gone, right?  To lose you and your perfect being at such a young age.  

The perfect place for me to end it would be at your grave.  Looking for your grave was very difficult, for some reason you did not come up in the obituaries.  Why was your name not listed?  I searched in every state to see if you passed as a resident in that state, yet your name never came up.  If you were not with our maker, then where were you?

I had to find you.  After everything I did for you, and this is how you thank me.  Leaving me behind while you travel.  I bet you are cheating on me with someone else.  That is why you left me.  You did not want to be seen as a cheater.  It is okay; I never told anyone about us.  I knew you would want privacy about us, but I had to figure out where you went.  I never wanted you out of my life again.  You belong to me and only me, no one else deserves to be in your perfect presence.

It is a good thing that I swiped your phone while you were asleep.  It was a little hard to find you since you got a new phone with a new number.  I even tried to follow your bank records, but you closed that account and opened a new one.  Luckily you never changed your email address.  I did not want you to feel like I was stalking you, but I memorized your email and found out where you last opened it up.

You were just a few states away from me.  It was okay.  I just hopped on the next flight to your city.  It was really difficult to see you.  I was impressed by how much you changed your looks.  You looked stunning just the way you were before.  Why did you change your natural beauty?  And more importantly, who is that man you were with?

It just cannot be!  I am hurt that you would cheat on me.  He must have seduced you into changing everything about you.  He must be the catalyst for all that has happened, right?  I thought I got rid of all the rivals for your love, but it seems I had missed one.  I will make him rue the day he ever met you.  He is not worth your time, or for you to think about.  He will be someplace where no one can find him.  

By the time you finish reading this; I will be waiting outside your door.  It is time for us to cement our love for each other and be together forever.  All you have to do is open the door and we can finally become one.  After all, only I deserve to have your perfect being.

Love, Your one and only Soulmate.

I hope you enjoyed my contribution to the day of love. 

The things that I wish were never said to me:

From My Parents:

"I don't understand why you're crying, when you know that I don't like weakness to begin with."

"You should neither be seen, nor heard."

"You're not very pleasant to be around."

"I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't have any friends."

"I'm sorry that they tolerated you."

"You aren't cultured, or smart, and despite your education your talents are lacking. You were a waste of time."

"You are not a very likeable person."

"I hope to see your name in the obituaries, soon."

From Former Friends:

"Sorry but there isn't enough room on the (California King) bed, so you'll have to sleep on the floor."

"Maybe the reason your parents don't love you is because you're ungrateful."

"My god, it's just a cat. You can get a new one."

"I don't care that he abused you! You had no right to hurt him like that!"

"That doesn't sound like something (redacted) would do. Maybe you should stop trying to slander people."

"You are such a Debby downer, ALL.THE FUCKING.TIME! ITS LIKE BEING AROUND SLUDGE!"

"Hahah. Wow, so like, maybe you should get over your issues and be more positive."

(to that last one ⤵️)

From Former Partners:

"Have you ever thought about being quiet?"

"Maybe let the experts talk about art and not the hobbyists."

"You're just a college dropout who never completed a thing in your life. What do you know?"

"Oh, you were assaulted and they didn't warn you that their partner may have a disease? There there. Anyway..."

"I don't like that Ariane has taken over control of ceremonies." (To be clear, control was freely given.)

"I don't see why I should be responsible for your feelings and my share of the home when you already do a good job with both."

"I hope you meet an early grave."

December 5th 1799 Prof Joseph Black chemist, researcher, teacher, first to identify carbon dioxide, died.

Born in Bordeaux in 1728 to an Irish father and a Scottish mother, Joseph Black spent his working life in Scotland. He is considered one of the world’s most eminent chemists and one of the founding fathers of the science of chemistry.

Black was a modest man and an excellent teacher. His meticulous research techniques were an inspiration to others in his day and have remained so today. Joseph was educated at home by his mother up until he was 12 when he was sent to live with relatives in Belfast and attend school there.

Four years later he went to Glasgow University to study medicine. Scottish doctor and chemist Dr William Cullen, (yes the same guy from my earlier post) was beginning a new course of lectures in chemistry at this time. Black became Cullen’s laboratory assistant. Chemistry was a passion for Black, alongside his medical education, which he completed in Edinburgh in 1754.

Black was always a meticulous chemist, keeping careful note of all his results and measurements. It was this which led to his discovery of carbon dioxide. He intended to pursue this study further. However from 1756 he became occupied with duties associated with his new appointment as Professor of Chemistry at Glasgow University.

Black met James Watt at Glasgow, University and they became friends and collaborators. Watt the skilled engineer investigating the efficiency of steam engines produced model engines for Black to use in his lectures on the properties of heat.

As well as Watt, another close friend of Black was James Hutton. Hutton left his collection of fossils to Black upon his death in 1797. Both men were Fellows of the newly founded Royal Society of Edinburgh. They were also members of the Oyster Club, a group of intellectuals who met regularly in Edinburgh. In 1766, Black moved back to Edinburgh to become Professor of Chemistry. He was known as an excellent teacher who inspired a number of his students to pursue careers in chemistry.

He was also widely respected both as a scientist and a physician. Several medical works of the late 18th century contain dedications to him. Black was called upon as a consultant to give his expert opinion in many different areas.

Although Black appears to have had many friends, he never married. He died in 1799, quietly in his chair, holding a cup of milk. Black’s obituary was written by the philosopher Adam Ferguson.

Black has a rather impressive grave in Greyfriars Churchyard, Edinburgh. Both Edinburgh and Glasgow universities have named their chemistry buildings after him.

Two Weddings And A Funeral: Family Meltdowns

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At this is the vet suggested that his recommendation would be to perform an autopsy to attempt to determine what had appeared. The couple agreed and wanted to understand how long it would take. He told the pair he would go ahead with it and phone them when workouts completed. Sheldon's last book was his memoir, entitled Sleep issues of Me (2004), a play towards the title 1 his blockbuster novels, Sleep issues of Night. The opening line reads: "At the chronilogical age of 17, being a delivery boy at Afremow's drugstore in Chicago was the optimum job, because the plan made it possible for me to steal enough sleeping pills to commit suicide". obituary records are actually legal documents that correlate with the death of people. These death records often contain the dead people's biographical information as sufficiently. Yet, it is of a significantly great importance that the obituary records are posted on the area newspaper during which the dead people may had death anyway.

Know your needs: A person are send funeral flowers for most different intentions. For instance, you can send them throughout a wake in the funeral home, from a church or religious service, or they can also be utilized to decorate a grave. Before sending, marketing promotions campaigns to determine your will require. Generally, Jewish are extremely traditional, is simply when referring to wearing good attire to acquire funeral. Men should dress yourself in suits and tie, while women should wear dresses that cover the takes. In addition, women need a shawl to drape over both their shoulders. Everything which we do leaves its mark even once we cannot gaze at ripple in eternity folks are producing. Make that ripple reverberate in the land of love that every one of us inhabit. Deny no among the list of magnificence born of your authentic self expression. Embody that inside your statement of remembrance and work backwards so that together day-to-day activities move forward in the sunshine that your divine being represents. Weight loss has power if it enables advance. Death has power if it sobers us towards reality this moment matters more compared mind possess us believe. We have power when we meditate on love and act to manifest it ever while we still should be able to.

Two Weddings And A Funeral: Family Meltdowns

funeral template funeral template funeral program funeral site One for the biggest motivating factors if you are in their 50's and 60's is leaving an immutable legacy. As mentioned by Carl Jung, at midlife we move from cataloging achievements to discovering which also means. We begin to realize that working life is limited - and although many folks think your mid-fifties or early sixties as midlife, we furthermore aware i always probably will not live turn out to be 0ne hundred twenty. Without question the hardest burn exercise related injury. In fact, a sixth degree burn can fundamentally diagnosed during an autopsy, which presents you notion of how survivable both degrees of burns have become. Alas, they are not just. Decide on where participating in something the flower arrangement to be placed. Much in the same that flowers have very own distinct meanings, the different arrangements for funeral flowers have different meanings and serve various purposes. For example, select a casket spray if need your name a floral arrangement quit blogging . . be place on top found in a coffin. By the other hand, a standing spray a great arrangement placed standing near the body from the deceased.

The reason this exercising is so powerful is because it gives you a chance to make changes and LIVE the obituary you want posted as soon as your time in order to leave the world. The Committal Service is held at the grave company. The ceremony there our final opportunity he goodbye. I was surprised and touched with release of white doves at the close of grave site services, a great element by the funeral home that many of us were unaware would happen. It gave us an added sense of closure one more special memory of Mom. Taking the time to plan ahead, may actually be an outstanding experience. Also beneficial would be the by pre-planning your funeral, your household is not left planning an app while along with grief. Still not certain about pre-planning your memorial? Then here are seven conditions.

If you already know which funeral home you need to work with, then each day do is call them and make an scheduled visit. They will be happy to assist you with all the info of planning your burial. Once you have made all the arrangements, then all you ought to do is let your family know which you can spare taken good your own funeral. You might convince in order to do the exact same thing. None of us know all of us will demand a funeral, but we do all be assured that we plan to die in time. This may seem a little eerie but it is important. It is such a relief in your family to be aware what you wanted at one further celebration of life.