St. Margaret of Scotland

My cousins and I  loved visiting our grandparents flat  at 39th street and Flad in St. Louis.  Coming up the stairs was a huge hall area with an old skylight showing its age: the glass was more "frosted" than clear and often had leaves resting on it.  We immediately got to the top of the steps and looked around to see if our other cousins were there. If not, then we sat quietly reading a book or playing with Uncle Ron's old toys.

But, if the cousins were already there, the race began! Our favorite game began---CHASE! The boys (Bob and Steve) usually led the chase but  sometimes I did which occasionally resulting in injury for my taller cousins: I was able to run under tables they were too tall for.  It was a great game running through the butler's pantry into the kitchen, into the dining room sometimes waiting under the lace table cloth, waiting for my victims.  But sometimes they saw me and the race was on again out to the huge hall, through the pantry, kitchen and dining room.  We were a happy, but noisy trio of cousins.  

Our parents tried to slow us down fearful that someone (Steve) would get hurt.  But, nothing slowed us down until we heard the Westminster chimes of the church across the street: St. Margaret's of Scotland.  Our grandmother Vivian Maupin Long loved  to hold us to listen to the chimes.  She had us try to repeat them and on the hour, count the chimes to know what time it was.  To live across the street with chimes going off every 15 minutes, she must have loved them.

To this day those chimes are soothing to me:  I sit back and can feel myself relax as the chimes bathe over me. Once after the chimes, I looked outside and saw all of these people going to church and asked my grandmother why we didn't go there to church.  She explained that we weren't Catholic but Methodist.  Our church was Lafayette Park Methodist Church which we needed to take a bus or a street car to get to.  I wanted to just step inside to see what the church was like on the inside, but she told me I couldn't because I wasn't Catholic.

Years later, after I'd retired, Dave and I drove through that old neighborhood .  My grandparents flat was still there with the balcony my grandmother was afraid would collapse.  Then, I looked across to St. Margaret's  and was happy to see it is still a bustling active congregation.  

Imagine my surprise to find that St. Margaret of Scotland was my 28th grandmother (she's the 30th for my grandchildren).  With some research I found that she was a Saxon princess who married King Malcom (the Great) of Scotland.  As the Queen of Scotland, she was loved and revered by many for her pious ways and her generous nature.  

I found a historical fiction book about her marriage to Malcom and her life as Queen of Scotland: Queen Hereafter by Susan Fraser King.  In that book I discovered Lady MacBeth was her contemporary.  I checked and can say we do NOT descend from Lady MacBeth. I am very proud to have St. Margaret of Scotland as one of my ancestors.  

I keep thinking about my grandmother (her 26th granddaughter) living across the street from a church with her ancestor and she never knew it. Grandma was the kindest and most generous woman like her ancestor Margaret. Maybe those chimes were a voice from her distant past tolling in sisterhood.

My Grandmothers

My Two Grandmothers

My father’s mother was Vivian Maupin who grew up in an upper middle class, large family in De Soto , Missouri.  Her father was the Superintendent of the Round House there for Missouri Pacific Railroad and he descended from French Huegenots.  Her mother Anna Reed was the daughter of two English immigrants.  She grew up in the Methodist-Episcopal church where her family were leaders. Even her hobbies were more English—tatting and crochet. She gave me beautiful store-bought dresses that I probably only wore to church. I was 6 years old when she died but I still remember.  

 I remember her twinkling brown eyes and how she would bend down to talk to me at my level, holding me warmly—always so loving and caring.  After family dinners with 20 of us gathered in the dining room and hallway, the women would all go to the kitchen to wash the dishes.  I loved being a part of that—my job was drying the silverware and putting it away but I cherished being a part of the laughter, sloshing water, damp cotton towels and love with my grandmother, aunts and mother. It was the perfect job for an active pre-schooler:  sending me to the butler’s pantry with silverware to be polished, sorted and  stored.  Years later, my aunt said, there were never photos of my grandmother smiling because her teeth were bad and yet I remember her smiles and eyes with warmth and love.  I am sorry my cousins and siblings never really knew her.

My mother’s mother was Vennie Watson who was a foster child in Southeast Missouri. She was an only child—her brother died as a baby.  Her father was possibly a harness racer who died when she was a baby from a horse accident.  Her mother was a housekeeper for another family until she was committed to the insane asylum in Farmington, MO.   Vennie was fostered by members of the Methodist church they belonged to.  She descended from Melungeons—a mixed race people in Tennessee and North Carolina.  

Vennie was a seamstress who made most of my clothes. There were no large family dinners but we ate with my grandparents every Friday night.  Grandpa was a fisherman who provided delicious fried catfish or perch every Friday with pan-fried potatoes, sliced sweet onions, and tomatoes in season.  Vennie lived next door to us so I spent a lot of time  with her—especially in the afternoons watching Art Linkletter on the television, playing solitaire, sorting buttons and hearing the whirr of Grandma’s sewing machine. Vennie was not well-educated having married at 14 and yet she encouraged me to learn to read at a young age.  She was barely literate herself, stumbling on the words in my Golden Books.  I became so frustrated hearing her read that I had her teach me to read when I was 4 years old so I could read to myself.

Their backgrounds could not have been much different and yet they both left me with wonderful, loving memories and the feeling that I was treasured as the oldest granddaughter.   They both encouraged my independence—one by helping me read and the other letting me step forward and be a part of a working group. They both died in their 50’s, a loss I still feel today.  I am sorry that my cousins never knew them as well as I did. 

Vivian's Photo Album: the McKays

 My grandmother's photo album has an entire page dedicated to the McKays.  Mattie Maupin McKay was her sister.  Our family was close to many of the McKay cousins and I can say, they were a fun bunch!

Martha McKay

Junior, Catherine, Gladys and Bob

The McKay Boys:  Jack ,Herb(Norman), Jerry, Hal (Junior) and Bob
(not in that order)

Bob and Gladys

In order:  Jerry, Herb, Martha, Jack, Junior, Maybelle,Bob, Mattie, Hal

Hal Jr and girlfriend

Hal, Mattie, Junior, my grandparents (Vivian and Roy)

Vivian's Photo Album: Maxine and Bob

 Vivian Long Maupin's photo album is full of family photos, but my Aunt Norma did not pay any attention to the note Grandma left behind.  There are no photos left in the album with her in them.  Fortunately, my cousin does have them, and I have photographed them in the past.

 Aunt Maxine Long Delaney has several pages devoted to her; this is the first one, with her graduation gown and then photos with her and Uncle Bob.  If she looks like she got married as a teenager, it's because she was 18 when she and Bob married at St. Philip Neri Church in 1942.  I'd love to know the story of how they met.

 Although some of these photos show Bob in military uniform, he didn't enlist until 1944

 Wedding photos above and below---I'm sure.  Wondering who is standing on the step in such a "model" pose with Grandma looking up at her?  Photos with the Delaneys and one of Bob's young brother Ken.

Vivian Maupin Long's Photo Album: Lee and Louise

 Several years ago, I inherited my grandmother's photo album always intending to share the photos on this web site, but it was shoved in a bin stored under a chair because "life" happened.  Recently a cousin came over and I showed him the album.  So, before I put it away again here are some photos.  I believe all of the outdoor photos where when the Longs went to Arkansas to meet the Wickers before (after?) Mother (Arky/Louise) and Dad (Lee) were married.
Amendment:  I'm going to say AFTER they were married judging from the trees in Arkansas---looks like October or November and they were married in September (having known each other just 6-8 weeks I believe)

Lee, Vivian and Roy Long

"Lee"---love the look if you enlarge this.

Billie and Louise

Roy Long and Vivian Maupin: early 1900's

Roy and Vivian—

While attending a writing class at church, someone in the class had begun writing her family history with a story of how her grandparents met.  As almost the eldest in my family, I thought I’d better write more of my family stories also.

Grandpa Roy grew up in a Baptist farm family of 12 children outside of DeSoto  MO near Big River. His mother was the daughter of a German miner and his father was from a Jefferson County Mo. family that had been farming and mining there before statehood. Any schooling Grandpa had would have been in a one room country school.He was raised with hard work and chores, but  Roy broke  away from the family traditions of farming or mining  to work at Missouri Pacific Railroad shop in De Soto, MO as a welder/boilermaker.   He was tall with blond good looks and based on notes, postcards, and photos that he saved, he was well loved by the ladies in the area.

  

Grandma Vivian grew up in a Methodist-Episcopal family with 7 children in a large Victorian home in DeSoto Mo.  Her mother’s family was from England and my aunt remembers tea parties and lace-curtain- elegance.  Grandma was raised in a more privileged family that was also more fun-loving.  During the Depression, an uncle gave all of the girls in the family violins and the boys each got a dime to buy ice cream with.  My dad often told stories of riding in the rumble seat of his grandfather’s Packard. Vivian’s father was the foreman of the Missouri Pacific roundhouse and the family travelled often by train to St. Louis for shopping and to Kansas City and Texas where family lived. She was one of those women whose personality and kindness sparkled in her eyes.

I don’t know how they met—the only common thread was Roy worked in the Missouri-Pacific shops and Vivan’s father was the foreman of the  Missouri-Pacific roundhouse in the same small town of De Soto, Missouri..  Grandpa had turned many a female head, and Grandma was a small town aristocrat. . .  and the boss’s daughter.  I have no letters and no photos of them at this time.  World War I was looming.

Roy enlisted in the Army Air Corps, not realizing that Vivian was pregnant with dad (LeRoy). LeRoy Harold Long  was born Aug. 1918 while Grandpa was in France. While I do have post cards Roy sent his parents, there is no indication that he had become a father.  The post cards are letting his parents know that he had landed in New York and would be home soon.

And Vivian?  I have one photo of her at this time, standing in a large circle — she appears to be pregnant. So, she wasn’t sent away or locked in her room.  Based on the stories I have heard about her family, I believe she was loved and cherished.  Her parents were indulgent with their children, even when they were adults and married.  Great grandmother Annie was so beloved that many of her descendants still bear her name (mine is in the middle).  They were not stingy with their wealth and freely gave what they had to all of their children that needed it, especially in the Depression where they provided housing for any needing it including one of my aunts (Norma) who lived with them as a teen-ager.  So, I believe they did whatever they needed to keep her physically or emotionally healthy.

Roy was discharged from the army on March 27, 1919 and  got married on the same day.  The witnesses were Mamie and Leo Wilson—Vivian’s sister and brother-in-law. She was 20; he was 25. It's worth noting that Vivian's mother was one of the founding "mothers" of the Episcopal Church in DeSoto.  Roy's family were the backbone of their Baptist Church and yet they were married by the Justice of the Peace not in a church. That seemed to be pretty common at that time---at least in my  Dad's family.   I wish I had one photo of them together when they were young, but starting life together with a 7 month old boy was undoubtedly a big adjustment.

As far as any of us know, Grandpa, despite his reputation with the ladies, remained faithful in his marriage to Vivian.  They had 6 children (Milton died as a baby) and remained married for 32 years until she died in 1951. But, there must have been a little bit of embarrassment on someone’s part since I found their marriage certificate which is in contradiction to the “official marriage records” in Jefferson County, Missouri.  The 1919 had been changed to 1916.

For more on Roy and Vivian , click here. 

Vivian Maupin and Roy Long 1918

Roy Long, 3rd from the left

The photo below just says the woman on the left is Vivian, but I believe this was the summer she was pregnant with Dad. It's a part of a photo with a large group of young people. I was happy to find it because I had often wondered what it must have been like for her in 1918 to be pregnant and unmarried. This photo at least tells me she wasn't locked away in an attic. At first, it shocked us that our father, LeRoy Long, was born out of wedlock. But, his father Roy Milton Long had left for World War I and couldn't really make an honest woman out of Vivian Maupin until he returned in 1919.
We also have the crocheted cap that Annie Reed made dad as an infant. Mom left the note that the star was in the top of the cap because his dad was a soldier over-seas. This tells me that despite the "inconvenience" of his birth, he was loved and cherished.
The photo above shows the cap was worn quite a bit---it's soiled around the edges. The glasses were also Dad's when he was very little. I don't think LeRoy Long is wearing the hat below, but here he is in 1919, probably.

Although we don't have any letters between Vivian and Roy, we do have this souvenir made out of silk.

And, he did bring the doll on the right back to Vivian from France.
Maybe someone else in the family has letters between them. We do have post-cards from Roy to his parents, and he never indicates any friction. But, that's another blog.