Showing posts with label TreasureHunt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label TreasureHunt. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 12, 2017

S: My Cuban grandma taught me to always be giving in everything I do and never take the cheap way out of things

AMH2020 student*

I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel”- Maya Angelou.

The people of United States Military are those we should take our hats off to and get on one knee for. All those men from the navy, marines, and army keep us safe and let us live the lives we always wanted without any complaints. We should do the same in helping those deployed or retired live safe, tummy full lives because that is our job as citizens. We cannot back out on the men that have risked everything for us because they deserve so much more than what they are given. Americans need to step up by sending more boxes and donating more money to the troops, they should not have to carry out the struggle of what they went through in war in real life, they deserve a break. 

Maya Angelou’s quote makes me think after I help out veterans or send boxes to Afghanistan that I feel like the good man behind the window, that one does not know. I feel like I am that man who gives what he can and is appreciated even though has no clue what he looks like and how good his really intentions are.  In doing my service project I thought how my nice deed of buying good and shipping them to men deployed made me a better person and impacted someone’s life greatly and community.
            I chose the job in mailing a box to Afghanistan and it was definitely one of the highlights of my year. I admit right now I am not a person who gives back to the community at all, I would much rather donate money than physically doing the action. I would rather give money because when I do physical work and see the poverty and conditions people are living in leaves me very emotional and depressed and I would much rather not feel those emotions. By mailing a box to Afganistan I was able to see a different part of myself that I never before encountered. The first task in creating the box was going to Publix to buy the goods required for the box and I literally went ham. I felt as if the best way possible to support is by buying everything on the list, so I did. I thought of Cuban grandma at that moment because all she wants is for me to do is “comer comer comer hasta que yo me explota,” she taught me to always be giving in everything I do and never take the cheap way out of things. 

In picking each good I felt happy that I was giving back to those soldiers who have nothing in the ugly, hot, desert that is Afghanistan. It was time to go to the post office and when I got down with all the things I bought I realized I bought so much more than what would fit in a flat rate box. I thought mailing something would be a piece of cake but it ended up being “una locura.” 

I have never mailed anything in my life and it took me forever to figure out everything. Every time I would go to the counter with a sealed box thinking it was done the lady kept telling me something else was wrong, I kept thinking, “Que dificil es esta mierda, soy un tremendo bobo”, It was time to pay and send the box and the lady at the post office was already giving me a rude look, not caring I put the box on top of the counter, so excited that the stuff I bought would soon be in the hands of a soldier. The lady then began to roll her eyes at me and tell me rude comments about packing the box so much but I didn’t care. I then paid and left and felt like a new person because I gave back to the boys out there fighting for us.

            My core value is happiness and mailing a box to Afghanistan related to my happiness. I am the type of person who always gets Christmas gifts for everyone because it makes me happy when I see them light up when they receive something special that I bought them. Also, I love taking pictures to remember those happy funny times that I can relate with my friends and family on whether it be karaoke to Celia Cruz on Christmas or attending Ava’s college party, times I want to remember forever. From going out to buy goods and shipping a box to a solder I believe that I reached their happiness because they got a present full of the things they love. I just wish I could see the look on their faces when they received it. The impact that I made on that soldiers’ life must be a big one because I hope he believes that there are people like myself who thank him for being over there and putting his life in danger so I can live a happy life. I hope all the soldiers and veterans know that there are people out there who want to give back to them and make them comfortable and happy. I have confidence that the project of sending goods to Afghanistan8 will touch all of TCC and lead to all of Tallahassee carrying out actions like these to impact our troops.

C: I am going to buy groceries and clothes for my fellow classmate.

AMH2020 student*

For my first service project I am going to buy groceries and clothes for my fellow classmate. Being a foodie and a woman, I know and understand how much money you can easily spend just by going out to eat so I going to make sure he has the basic I believe every kitchen cabinet or fridge should have.  
I am also going to make a way to buy clothes especially during this time of year I can get kind of chilly outside. Having the proper clothes as well as comfortable is very important for anyone. I am going to see to it that my classmate has the things that he needs to make it through this season.

Since Mr. D*is elderly, it is easy for him to get sick so another part of his Christmas gift I plan on giving him is a heater and/or an air purifier. I have one myself and it helps with allergens breathing better. I do not have a lot of money but if I go broke today or tomorrow at least 

I know I spent my money on someone who deserves it. 

In my mind thanksgiving is year round, everyday is a perfect time to give.

Friday, November 24, 2017

Thankful*

In the late 1980s I discovered solitaire on pre-internet Apple computers, and often sat for hours lining cards up over and over and over, trying for that perfect game. One time Father Fagot at Loyola left me alone in the computer lab overnight, telling me "every game is winnable, play to win, expect to win." Bless his heart. I sat quietly clicking and trying and hoping until long past dawn.  

I have long since learned to stop playing solitaire, but now and then I have opened an ancestry.com  free account, played around so that every single person has parents and grandparents and burial places.  This gives me great satisfaction, and now in all that is going on in my life and the world, I really need to line things up in my ancestry and give order to this world.

I'm doing it again, rebuilding all of my family tree from scratch, adding this person here, then that one there. I spend over six hours tracking the life of one of my  great great grandmother who is widowed then enters into a second marriage in 1890 to a man whose roots take me to a workhouse in 1850 where he is marked as "mulatto."  In 1866 he is in Law School in St. Louis, then the 1880 census he is recorded as  "lawyer" and "white." He is a full voting citizen in Louisiana before Plessy vs Ferguson and the Grandfather Clause and I wish I could go back and have a nice long talk with him about what he's going to miss.

Ancestry is great for finding mortality rates across generations -- for example, I found someone family just doesn't live past the age of 53. I trace this back two generations, then three, then four, then five. I trace all the uncles too and the pattern fits. They all die young.  But I don't say anything (would you?).

The most compulsive part of Ancestry site is it gives you hint after hint so that you can hunt around and give each and every person two parents, and then find their grandparents and so one and so on.

On my father's grandmother's side I can go back to pre-Napoleonic Quebec and France.

Part of his family was in New England for the French and Indian War,  while another part was in Quebec about to be exiled to Louisiana.

I especially like to trace my father's roots back to colonial Connecticut and Captain John Avery who may or may not have been a pirate or least I am 100% sure  there was a pirate around the same time with his same name. I want this to be true, I want to be born from pirate blood.  Let me have this, OK?
 I traced Captain John Avery's decedents and they include the Rockefellers.

Pirates, like me. Clearly.

Captain John's son James, befitting Puritan New England values, named one of his daughters "Temperance Avery"  and another one "Thankful Avery " who will become my eight great-grandmother.

 Captain John has another son named Benjamin Avery who apparently marries his niece named Thankful (see above) which makes him my distant grandfather and great uncle, but let's push that off for another discussion on colonial society.


I can't stop lining families up and finding where they came from, but I keep hitting a dead end with my father's great-grandfather.

 Notice how Achille Jean Soldani's parents leave me with dead ends.


I can't stop.

Just can't. I plug in name after name and finally get a break when I find that Giovanni Soldani in New Orleans in 1861 served in the Confederate Army "CAZADORES ESPAÑOLES REGIMENT" or at least he showed up for the very first muster and that's it.   Seriously, I can't find evidence past that, and I don't blame him for laying low when the Union blockaded New Orleans.

When I look through records I see that it indicates that other members of the militia were foreign born, but nothing is written by his name to indicate that.





Giovanni Soldani has two children in the 1860s: Achille Jean in 1863 and Isoline in 1866.  

I have no documents regarding a marriage to Clementine/Christine Moti or Mutti, but a woman with similar sounding names is the mother of both children. 

Spelling and names weren't as standardized back then, so I find when looking for Achille Soldani's father I find my father's ancestors have shifted names and Giovanni has become Jean and Achille is Archide and Soldani has  become "Soldiami." 




I just can't figure out where Achille's parents went, but I knew he and his sister would end up in St. Mary's orphanage and he would be sent off in orphan train from New Orleans to grow up in Avoyelles Parrish in Louisiana where he would live near and then marry Ella Mae English. Ella Mae's family goes back to antebellum Kentucky, colonial Virginia, and pre-colonial New England.  Ella Mae's husband's family goes nowhere -- they just appear in New Orleans when their kids are born. 

No census data, no wills, marriage certificates,  no tombstones.

This leaves me restless. 

 I have to line things up, just like solitaire. You know this already.

 I search in database after database and finally come up with something.

Giovanni Soldani aka Jean Soldani (Jean is his son's middle name, so we know this is extra sure) might have become John Soldani and pops up in Missouri in the 1870 census.  

I know from family history that his kids grow up orphans, so maybe just maybe he is the 50 year old pastry chef named "John Soldani" in the 1870 census who lives in a work house says his parent are foreign born.   

I find John Soldani (also known as Johann Soldani from Switzerland) popping up in California and wonder if my ancestor reinvented himself and forgot his first family.

Maybe not, but still, it was easier back then. 

 I call my dad and share my theory that something horrible must've happened to Giovanni Soldani's wife during/after the Civil War which caused Giovanni to leave the city and abandon his kids with the nuns,  like "screw the Civil War  I just got to America, I'm going to go make money!"  

I follow that theory all day in between baking hams and mashing potatoes and washing dishes but it takes me nowhere.

Finally I start plugging in alternate names and I find out for sure that Christina Mutti (unclear if she married Giovanni Soldani or not but she had two kids with him) died in New Orleans on April 6,1869. 

 I can't access the death certificate but I put it on my bucket list and add it to the reasons I need to visit Louisiana. 

Thanksgiving passes and I can't rest. 

I need to know where Giovanni went. 

I try Giovanni Soldaim and Jean Soldani and Jean Soldaiami and Giovanni Goldiami and find that his name Goldani in his daughter's birth certificate.  I can't help but wonder if the capital "S" in Giovanni's military ID looks like a capital G and that;s where the confusion is. 

Or maybe his name is Goldani and I have been saying my name wrong this whole time. 

I plug in variations of his name until I hit "Jean Goldani" and am speechless to find the name "Jean Goldani" in the Orleans Parrish death index.  It says he died February 15, 1868 and gives me the address of the Louisiana Archives to write for more information.  I just might.   I would rather think he died than ran away from his children. Christina Mutti died in New Orleans the next year, a young widow who probably could not support herself.

I try to plug their names into international registries to see where they might have come from -- Sicily? France? -- but thousands of hits come up and it is too much for me to sort through. 

 It is enough, for now, to know that they lived and they loved each other and they faced obstacles that took their lives away before they could pass their stories to their children.  

I am thankful for the closure.