Inmate? Poor House Living; Cozmic One To Race Friday

Zenyatta's first foal, Cozmic One (known to family and friends as Coz), will begin his racing career on Friday.  It's a special weight race for maidens, and Coz has drawn the number one, inside, post.  In the outside post will be a son of Blame, the only horse to defeat Zenyatta.  Hopefully Coz has matured enough to put his mind on running and will have a great racing career, like his mom.  Trainer John Shirreffs, who trained Zenyatta, believes that her son, sired by Bernardini, is ready for competition.  Victor Espinoza will be in the irons on Friday when this promising colt makes his debut at Santa Anita Park.
   I'm still working on the Busey part of my family tree.  Yesterday, I was looking for information regarding Andrew Jackson Busey; he was the fourth son of Samuel Andrew Jackson Busey and America King Busey.  Andrew was listed as a child, under his father's name in the US Federal Census. In the 1870 and 1880 Census, he was working as a farm laborer on his eldest brother's farm.  Samuel married at the age of 39, and he and his wife are listed in the 1900 Census as a farmer and his wife in Carroll County, Indiana.  In glancing further down the search return, I was amazed to see that Andrew was listed as an "Inmate" in the 1910 and 1920 Census.
  Now, when I see the word "inmate" I think of three places - a local jail, a state prison, or an asylum for the mentally deficient.  I was puzzled, then when I searched the records and found, in the 1910 Census, that both Andrew and his wife, Mary,  were listed as "Inmates" in the Carroll County Infirmary.  Andrew was aged 64, Mary aged 66.  In the 1920 US Census, Andrew was listed as a widower, and an "Inmate,"  in the Howard County Infirmary, aged 74.  Both of these Infirmaries were in the state of Indiana, and Andrew was born (and died in) Howard County.  So, what the heck was an Infirmary of the County in the state of Indiana?
   I found the answer in a master's degree thesis that was posted on-line: "In the first half of the twentieth century, the county home was a fixture in each of Indiana’s ninety-two counties. Known by a variety of names, such as poorhouse, poor farm, county farm, poor asylum, or county infirmary, the county home offered shelter to those unable to provide for themselves. Residents included the mentally and physically disabled, those with mental illnesses, unwed mothers, the aged, and orphaned children, along with whole families too poor to live independently. The county home was the original homeless shelter, foster home, mental institution, and rehabilitation facility. This institution was publicly owned and managed at the county level, and it preceded any state or federal government welfare policies. Most counties built large, stately, institutional-style brick structures to serve this purpose. Poverty, until the Great Depression, was mainly a local problem. "
  I could not find a grave site, or marker, for Andrew's wife, Mary.  I suppose she was buried in a potter's grave in Carroll County, Indiana.  Andrew got a marker - and I think that other family members contributed for  the cost.  Andrew is in the Chittick Cemetery, in Miami County, where his parents are buried.  He was the fourth born of seven children, all of whom lived and married - and I'm surprised that he was in the county poor house for over 10 years prior to his death.

Busey Family and Vikings Spoiler

I awoke feeling completely energized this morning, which is totally strange, because I didn't go to bed until 2:30 this morning, and hopped up when the alarm went off at 6.  During my sleep, I dreamed constantly of two characters on Vikings, Athelstan and Floki; but I can't figure out why I awoke with Hank Williams' original rendition of "Jambalaya" playing continuously in my brain.  I know my brain works on various levels, but I just can't connect an English monk, a Viking shipwright, and the bayou togeth...   Ah. I think I've got the connection.  A wandering Viking visited Ragnar in last night's episode and told him how to find the mouth of the Seine....  OK.  I can accept that....  And two plus hours of Vikings last night - including Athelstan's Journal - it was a fantastic treat!
   If you didn't see Vikings last night, and will see it before next week - don't read anymore of today's blog - it'll be a spoiler for you - just be sure you view all two hours that aired last night. Athelstan has been torn between two cultures and two beliefs, since his abduction by Ragnar.  This comes to an end in this episode - and Floki, too, has a vision.  The handling of Athelstan's religion and views on his friend (first his owner) Ragnar have been handled deftly in this series - the meeting of two inquiring and curious minds discussing beliefs has been understated, yet strikingly portrayed.  It is clear that both men have influenced each other.  Floki, the shipwright, on the other hand, believes in the Old Gods completely and he frequently acts under their influence.  He takes Athelstan's life in this episode, something that I have been expecting since the early shows of the second season...  They are both too different, and Floki does not accept the change that Athelstan represents.  And it seems that Athelstan expects, and even welcomes, Floki's final intrusion into his home.  Floki manages to enter and exit Kattegat without being seen, so the death of the Englishman cannot be laid at his feet.  Ragnar then buries Athelstan  in the place where the priest taught him to recite the Lord's Prayer. It was very fitting.  So was Ragnar's request that Athelstan forgive him for what he would do in the future, while wearing the golden cross that Athelstan had worn.
  I also ran across an intriguing item listed under a cousin's name last night (Matthew Logan Busey)...  I found a page under The Busey Family Organization, located in Fort Lauderdale Florida that was titled: "Unorthodox:  Who Are We? Really?"  The Organization can be visited at:  http://busey.org  and the page I'm quoting from may be viewed, in its entirety, at http://www.busey.org/unorthodox/index.html    The part that I found very interesting was near the end: Sometimes we discover something unpleasant.  Like I wonder what economic hardships caused two of my great-grand-fathers to put bullets into their own heads?  If times were so hard, why did they figure that taking out the chief breadwinner was going to help the family?  The women were pretty strong in those days, and maybe those guys realized it.
Or what about another great-grandfather who died all by himself, thousands of miles from his wife and children?  "Sir, I have the honor to report that the name of the above-described pensioner who was last paid $30, to Sept. 4, 1915 has this day been dropped from the roll because of " . . . and there is blank filled in with that word . . . "death."
Why, when Matthew Logan Busey had applied on 15 January 1898 for a pension to the Department of the Interior, as a Civil War veteran, did he first tell the examiner that he was a widower?  Only to change his mind and to have had that line crossed out?  Did he temporarily not know or not want to believe that his wife was doing quite well, that she had packed up the kids and crossed the continent to start a new life?  This may have been a family secret, but I'm only revealing what is published for the world in the National Archives.
I feel deeply the pain of these people long gone.  I wonder what was going on in their minds.  Did they have the luxury of time to think about where they were going?  Were they locked into a society that had fewer choices than today?  I doubt that they had mental health counseling.  A part of me wants to relive those lives, to see if there's some way we can fix it for them posthumously.
So, what's the point?
1.  The first thing is obvious, that genealogy is mostly about dead people.
2.  That proves the next thing, that life is relatively short.
3.  Next thing is, since everybody dies, it doesn't matter who you are or where you came from.
4.  Which brings us back to #2, which is that it's all what you make of life. "
Guess I'll need to keep digging!

Family Roots

I spent a part of yesterday sitting in nearly a half-acre covered in wild violets - there were purple, white, and lavender violets scattered throughout the area.  Later this summer it will be covered in clover, with flowers of white, pink, yellow, and purple.  The honey bees, wasps, and yellow jackets will be busy there this summer - yesterday, there were just two or three bees out in the bright sunshine.  And where is this idyllic spot? It's the east end of my brother-in-law's back yard.  Water was flowing in the irrigation ditch from snow melt-off higher in the mountains, and I counted 32 different kinds of birds, both in, and passing over, the yard.  I was throwing dog toys for Rosie and Mona, and soaking up the sun.
   Walking to the store this morning, I was surprised to see a few snow flakes land, and melt, on my glasses.  We've warmed up to freezing now, and what is falling is mainly a light rain; the edge of the patio is definitely wet, not snowy.  We have had fantastic sunshine and warmth the past few days, and my cats have been celebrating.  Today, they are curled up in the afghan on the bed.  And yesterday, after a quiet morning, the chinook winds picked up and blew almost all night.  We had "Red Flag" warnings  - high fire danger - posted until this morning.  And the chinook winds really bothered me yesterday - the trees were roaring and tossing, and I developed a tremendous headache, where it felt as if I had a metal cap covering my head from my forehead to well behind my ears, and it felt as is the cap were getting tighter and tighter, and my brain was going to burst.  I finally had to take a dose of migraine medication to get the pain to abate.  I can now easily see how early female pioneer settlers could go mad from the incessant blowing of the wind...
   I'm spending my time between cleaning the apartment - my annual Spring cleaning - and digging into the family tree.  I'm still intrigued by my great-great-grandfather, Singleton Wilson Busey, and his wandering life.  He was married at least four times, and had children with every wife.  At one point, he was married to three different women, in two states, and served in the US Army in the Civil War under three names, providing a government pension for each of the families.  I'm still trying to figure out which wife was my great-grandmother's mother...  We were told it was Nancy Goodwin, Singleton's wife from Putnam County, Indiana; but the family stories also say that great-grandma Martha was half Native American.  One of Singleton's wives was a member of the Cherokee nation, living on the reservation in Brown County, Kansas, and her name was Mary....  'Tis a puzzle!
  At least Singleton is a relatively easy man to follow around.  So is his brother, Lazarus Whitehead Busey.  In all my research, over the years, on Singleton, I keep getting references to the actor Gary Busey.  I finally decided that I was going to prove to myself that he (Gary Busey) and I were not related.  It didn't work.  Singleton Wilson Busey and Lazarus Whitehead Busey were brothers; Singleton being the youngest brother in a family of nine.  Singleton is my great-great-grandfather.  Lazarus Whitehead Busey is the great-great-grandfather of Gary Busey.  We're cousins.
    Post Script:  There is now slush on the patio and snow is piling up on the grass in the back yard.