Monday, January 16, 2023

A New Year so time to write down the stories I heard about my ancestors. I first heard their stories as a small child and as an adult read facts about their lives in US censuses. For many years, I have struggled with how to write about them so today I begin, but with a fictionalized version, starting with me as a child living with them in the 1800s.

The story begins in New York City during the late 1800s where I live with my three aunties. I am just a child so I call them “Auntie” Elizabeth, Delia, and Alice. I am Lizzie, short for Elizabeth, because I look like my Auntie Elizabeth. I have her dark eyes, dark hair, short stature, and fair skin. Auntie Delia is the blond of the trio with green eyes while my Auntie Alice is the more stereotypical Irish with red hair and blue eyes. Though I favor Auntie Elizabeth in looks, I long for the adventures of which Auntie Alice speaks.

All three of my Aunties educate me in their own way so I am an apprentice to them all. I learn household management from Auntie Elizabeth, customer service from Auntie Delia, and dressmaking from Auntie Alice. As the eldest, I learn first and as my two siblings get a bit older, each Auntie adopts one of them as their apprentice, my younger sister and then my brother. My uncle James, a silversmith, lives above us and sometimes my brother would seek him out, as a boy wants to learn how to become a man. The three of us came to live with our aunties after our parents died: my mother during the birth of my brother and my father not long after of grief.

Part of my apprenticeship with Auntie Alice is practicing my reading skills. She claimed that she did not have time to read the news of the day so I read the morning paper to her, every day. I think it was just her way of getting me to practice reading! Also, since I was shy, it forced me to “use my voice” as she always admonished me, even if I was just reading someone else’s words. By the time I reached age 10, Auntie Alice was asking me if I thought the news in the paper was true and correct. My Auntie was so smart! She wanted me to be too! Maybe she was preparing me as a future apprentice – at a newspaper. One of her brother’s was an editor and needed an assistant. My Auntie Alice would not allow my brother, who was younger, to be his assistant just because he was a boy. I share something else with Auntie Alice – I am also the oldest. Her siblings argue but with respect because she was the eldest and always tried to be fair, reasonable, and considerate. After all, as she schooled me, that is what leaders do.

Auntie Alice was such a talented dressmaker that she had her own shop in New York City. She could not possibly do all the work herself so Auntie Delia helped by making all the lace and ribbons for the dresses and skirts. Customers husbands could then be taken care of by my Uncle Kevin who was a tailor and had a shop next door. Twice a year, Auntie Alice would travel to Paris to attend fashion shows, purchase fabric and accessories, and arrange for their shipment back home. Paris was considered the world capital for fashion at that time. It took her so long to travel there by ship (usually 16 days round trip) that she was gone for a month at a time. Due to weather conditions and travel time, she would travel in April and September. As part of managing the household, Auntie Elizabeth always helps Auntie Alice prepare for her trips. It was always such a busy time, getting her ready for Paris. It was scary and sad for me because I always feared that she would not return (like my parents). She did not want anything to happen to her purchases so she always made sure to give the porter and captain dresses for their wives. She took care of those who took care of her. She also had with her, of course, a lady’s maid to protect herself, as much as possible, from any untoward advances by men. A man would not bother her with another woman present. When I was old enough, I would be able to go with my Auntie Alice! By then, my siblings would be old enough to help our other aunties at home, without me.

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