Yesterday, we started the 1,003 mile journey back home from Florida to Illinois. We left Panama City Beach a little after 7 a.m. and headed west towards Biloxi, Mississippi. Amanda and I had visited there previously and we wanted to visit again before making our way north.
We stopped and had our last taste of seafood at a place called The Reef. We had eaten there before and had enjoyed the food quite a lot. Plus, Biloxi has some beautiful beaches as well as some very lovely homes along the coast. After having a great lunch we travelled up through Mississippi and in to Tennesee. We stopped in Memphis for the night.
Memphis is a city we have been through twice, but have never had time to explore while here. It is on our list of places to visit again once we have an opportunity to more fully sample the tastes, sights, and sounds of this great city.
I love to visit places with rich cultural histories. Memphis is certainly one of those places. From food, music, to the civil rights movement, it has much to taste, hear, and see. It is also a place with some family history for me as well. My paternal grandparents lived in the city for a while. In addition, my great uncle, Aldo Bastari, apparently once worked as a chef at the Peabody Hotel. We definitely could make a week of it in Memphis. However, that will have to wait for another time.
We left Memphis this morning around 9 a.m. and drove north through Arkansas and Missouri. Then we crossed the Mississippi River back into Illinois. I think we are all ready to be back home. It will be nice to sleep in our own beds tonight.
I was fortunate to have grown up surrounded by men of integrity. My own father was a man who was honest and treated others with respect. He had faults, but I believe he acted with integrity in his dealings with other people. In addition, my father was someone who tried to make things right when he felt he had wronged another person. I believe the values that my dad had were passed down to him from his father, as my grandfather was also a man of integrity.
My grandfather, Oris Bradshaw, was born on August 23, 1908 in a small town called Whitehall, which is in Greene County, Illinois. The Bradshaws were some of the earliest settlers to this county, according to research I have done into my family genealogy. From historical accounts that I have read, the Bradshaws were known as virtuous people.
For instance, in a document that was published in 1879 by Donnelly, Gasette, and Lloyd my great-great grandfather, Perry Bradshaw, was described as “a member of the Christian Church, and is endeavoring to live a life that is in harmony with the principles he professes” (1879 History of Greene County Illinois). These traits were passed down to Perry’s son Shannon (my great-grandfather), who then passed them on to my grandfather Oris.
It is on this Father’s Day that I look to these men who lived lives of integrity. Amanda and I are raising a child through foster care. It is a privilege to be given the chance to shape this young life that has been entrusted to us. Although, my own father passed away while I was a boy, my grandfather was there to help guide me through my formative years. He is a man that I greatly admired and respected, as I believe he was the true definition of a husband and a father. Likewise, he was a great example of how a man should conduct himself. I hope I can instill the same values in Baby Boy that my grandfather did in me.
My grandfather was married twice. His first wife died when my Uncle Richard and my Aunt Shirley were both still children. He then met and married my grandmother, who gave birth to my father and to my Aunt Diane. Around the time of his first wife’s death, my grandfather was employed by Walgreen’s in Memphis, Tennessee. He had a very good position in the company. However, he gave this up, I believe, to move to Rock Falls, Illinois so that he could help his aging parents.
My grandfather then had a few different jobs once he moved to Rock Falls. For instance, he drove a delivery truck for the Coca-Cola Company, and he also worked at one of the local high schools as a custodian. He gave up a promising career with a major corporation, humbled himself, and did what was right for his family. He was one of the greatest men I have ever known.
I think my grandfather’s work ethic was passed on to my father, as he was a wonderful provider for my family and I. He was never afraid to work overtime to help the family make ends meet. In addition, my dad was a very skilled welder. He took on side jobs for people in his home workshop, often times charging people far below what the work was worth.
I know I have many shortcomings as a man. However, I was provided with great male role models as I was growing and maturing. I still have some today as well. Both of my brothers are great fathers. Likewise, my father-in-law is a man who shows his love for his family in so many ways.
In conclusion, I just want to say that those who have come before me have left a lasting legacy. I feel very blessed. Happy Father’s Day to all you who are fathers. Take care of your families. Leave a legacy for them of which they can be proud.
Recently I took one of those DNA tests. The kind where you spit into a vial, seal it
all up in a bag, and ship it to a lab in Utah.
I did this because I was curious to find out my ancestral roots. For the most part, the results were not a
surprise. I knew I had roots in the
United Kingdom, Germany, and Italy.
However, I was surprised to see that I also had traces of French, Swedish,
and Russian blood.
It was fascinating to see the results broken down into percentages. My ethnicity breaks down as follows:
English, Welsh, & Northwestern European – 36%
Germanic European – 29%
Italian – 12%
Eastern European & Russian – 8%
French – 8%
Irish & Scottish – 3%
Swedish – 2%
Baltic European – 2%
Seeing all of these percentages laid out like this made me
yearn to know the stories of my ancestors.
What were there lives like? What kinds
of personalities did they have? Where
did they stand politically? These are all
questions that I will never will be able to answer. However, I would love to do a little more
research into who some of these people were.
I know that much of my mother’s family were Germans who came
to the U.S. and settled in rural parts of Pennsylvania. I am sure many of them were farmers who tried
to make a better life for their children.
Fortunately, many of them came before Europe was torn apart by war. I would like to go back and hear their
stories. It would be fascinating to learn
why they decided to leave behind loved ones to come to a new country. This to me would have been terrifying.
My maternal grandparents Lauren and Betty Geil were both great people. I did not know my grandfather very well, as I was quite young when he died. But I do have memories of him. My grandmother Betty, was perhaps the coolest grandmother there ever was. I can remember her doing the “Moonwalk” after Michael Jackson made it famous. She was also one of the most giving people that I have ever known.
On my father’s side things are a little more ethnically diverse. I have been able to research the Bradshaw
family back to the 1600’s. It appears many
of them came from Lancashire, a county in the northwest of England. The Bradshaw line that I am from first
settled in Virginia, where it appears they were quite successful farmers, as
census records show many of them had quite a bit of land, and a few even owned slaves. The Bradshaw family began to spread out through
the Carolinas, Tennessee, and then into Illinois.
A few summers ago my wife Amanda and I visited a cemetery just outside of White Hall, Illinois where several of my distant relatives are buried, including my great, great grandfather. I wish they could have all spoken from beyond the grave to tell me what their lives were like. There is a place near White Hall called Bradshaw Mound. I’d like to find out the history of this place. It makes me wish that I’d have asked my grandfather these questions before he passed away several years ago. He was born in White Hall and maybe he could have filled me in on the history of the town where many of my distant relatives lived.
My fraternal grandmother was born and raised on the
outskirts of Shaw, Mississippi. She grew
up on a farm where her and her siblings picked cotton, that is until my great-grandmother
passed away. After this event, my
grandmother took over as caretaker of the family. She did the cooking, cleaning, and other
chores that her mother once did. This
means that my grandmother was also unable to finish school. However, she was a woman who knew how to take
care of her family.
Growing up I loved hearing the names of her brothers and sisters,
many of whom had been born in Italy before my great-grandparents Vincenzo and
Palmina Bastari came to America. My
grandmother’s brothers names were Rigo, Tilio, Aldo, Amilio, Cerro, and Sam. My grandmother’s name was Mary, and her
sisters were Edith, Emma, Jenny, and Clara.
I never had the opportunity to meet my great uncles, but I am sure they
all had great stories to tell about growing up in Mississippi. I can also imagine their lives, especially as
they were growing up, were very difficult.
However, they all went on to have their own families and lived full
I did have the privilege of meeting all but one of my great aunts and they were all feisty women. They also were all quite beautiful. Each one of them maintained part of their Italian accents as well. My grandmother’s accent was unique. It was part Mississippi and part Italian. Her family was from the town of Assisi, which is in central Italy. Hopefully, I’ll make it there someday. I am sure there are still some long-lost cousins who live there.
My dad’s parents, Oris and Mary were married in 1940 in
Hernando, Mississippi. They lived for a
time in Memphis, Tennessee before moving north to Rock Falls, Illinois. I think it was hard for them to move away from
Memphis, but my grandfather came north to help his father and mother.
My grandfather was one of the most selfless men that I have ever met. He always put family ahead of himself. He gave up a career with the Walgreen’s Company so that he could take better care of his children once his first wife died. He then remarried, moved to Illinois and did various jobs to support his family. He was a Coke delivery man, and then towards the end of his working life, he was a custodian at the high school just down the street from where I live now.
I miss him every day. When my own father passed away I was just a boy. My grandpa always made sure we were all right. We all knew we could talk to him, as he was very patient and kind. He was also full of wisdom. He taught me the importance of staying connected to your family. Family always has been, and always will be important to me. Take time to learn your family’s history. Some things may be ugly, but I am sure you’ll also find some incredible things as well. I appreciate the things that I have learned about mine.