Category Archives: People

More About Jessie

People, Photographs, , , ,
Jesse Tyler -- my great grandmother
My great grandmother, Jessie (Tyler) Green

After writing the post about my great grandmother, Jessie Tyler, I talked to my mother on the phone. She had more information, that I probably knew already, but had forgotten it.

First of all, she identified a couple more photographs on the Old Photographs blog as being her grandmother. Upon careful inspection, I agree with her. She has my grandfather’s nose.

Jesse Tyler -- my great grandmother
My great grandmother, Jessie (Tyler) Green. This photograph often made me think of the Wicked Witch of the West

Then my mom assured me that she didn’t dislike her grandmother, and told me that she and her brothers and sisters used to eagerly anticipate the arrival of their grandmother and her husband, Frank Harris each Sunday when they’d come to my grandparent’s house for dinner. She did admit that her mother wasn’t all that pleased that her in-laws came for dinner every Sunday — perhaps it just got old. Mom said that her grandmother would tell them all stories and that she loved that.

Mom also mentioned the divorce — that Jessie divorced her first husband who was my grandfather’s father. Since that was highly unusual back then, I suppose it left a mark on Jessie.

It is impossible for me to know, now, if Jessie was married to my great-grandfather when these photos were taken, or not married at all or perhaps married to Frank Harris.

This all has a tragic ending though. Three tragic endings, actually.

Grandpa Green and Woman
Grandpa Green and his grandmother

My great grandfather, (I think his name was Walter Green, just like my grandfather) Albert Green, was killed on the train track in South Elgin. I’m not sure if he was in a car at the time or if he was killed when walking across the track. I used to think he threw himself in front of the train, but it was an accident.

Frank Harris, Jessie’s second husband, did kill himself though. He hanged himself. I don’t know if this was before or after Jesse died though.

Jessie herself did not die an old woman in bed surrounded by her family. She was struck by a car in Elgin.

It surprises me that I didn’t know any of this — or at least didn’t remember any of it or tie it all together. But looking carefully at the photo of Jessie with her son, she does not look like that defiant, teasing woman whose photo I adopted. She looks very sad.

Edited 4.30.09 — Mom corrected me on two things 1) Jessie’s husband Frank committed suicide after Jessie was struck by an automobile and 2) the photo of my grandfather and the woman — the woman is not his mother. Mom doesn’t know who she is, but is sure she is not Jessie.

Edited 4.15.17 — 1) Changed the spelling of Jessie’s name based on her signature in a book she owned and 2) added Albert Green’s name, crossed out speculation about his name being Walter Green.

Stay tuned for the rest of the story…

Death, Memories, People, ,

I’m going to be writing a series on Wisconsin as soon as I have time to do it, but one timely Wisconsin memory for me is listening to Paul Harvey.

I discovered this morning that Paul Harvey died on Saturday. I knew very little about him, except for his love of storytelling and his voice. I didn’t know what he looked like, how old he was or where he was born.

I know more about him now — He was born in Oklahoma and spent most of his life in newsrooms. He looked much younger than his 90 years.

I remember hearing Paul Harvey throughout my life. His “the rest of the story” is as comforting to me as grilled cheese and tomato soup. The last few times I’ve heard Paul Harvey, since we don’t listen to whatever radio channel he is on in our day-to-day lives, was in Wisconsin at my parent’s house, or else on the way to Wisconsin.

In my parent’s “cabin” in Wisconsin they have one television channel which comes in fuzzy most of the time. They don’t have Internet and my cell phone does not work there. But they have radio. We get our news and entertainment mostly from an old stereo system that sits under the soon-to-be useless television in the living room of my parents lake home in Hazelhurst, Wisconsin.

During the day I have the stereo on and tuned, usually, to the local public radio station, but when there is nothing interesting to listen to on public radio (shocking but true — we can only listen to so much polka) I switch channels. The next radio station that comes in clearly there is WMQA — an ABC affiliate. ABC airs Paul Harvey and when we’re in the house, we listen to him. If we are getting ready to go somewhere, we”ll wait until we hear the whole story he has to tell for the day. His stories are usually saccharine sweet — something one might find in Reader’s Digest or the Chicken Soup books, but something about being in the Northwoods makes us a little more receptive to that kind of storytelling.

I’ll miss his voice and his stories — but since I’ve only heard a fraction of what he had to say, maybe they’ll replay them — like the peanuts comics — and I’ll still get to hear his voice in Wisconsin.