Prompt: Homestead

When I got the prompt "homestead", my mind fluttered to the endless prairies of the American West, where brave souls carved lives out of rugged land. But homesteading, at its core, transcends those storied fields; it encompasses the essence of "home" itself.  For me and my mother (and I will guess for others) that sanctuary rested at 145 Cedarhurst St in North Great River, New York - the cherished abode of my grandfather, Philip Vampatella.

Sundays at Grandpa's house was transformed into a family affair. Aunts, uncles and cousins flocked to see each other and grandpa.  Sometimes, upon arrival, a game of pinochle was going on. Grandpa was known for his cheating tactics! Other times, grandpa was seated at his handcrafted bench at the table. Rings of smoke from his Chesterfields engulfed him. Next to him was a jelly glass filled with red Gallo wine. Katie, his second wife, would be at the stove making something that would make my father's mouth water. 

The homestead was situated on 2 acres, its U-shaped driveway the setting for countless unaccompanied driving lessons - my brothers, cousins and I, navigating the loops with unbridled joy, our hearts racing as we cherished those fleeting moments of freedom. A sturdy oak tree, our playground, stood sentinel by the detached garage, while the faint silhouette of a parked car traced an indelible memory I never quite captured.  

A miniature house, otherwise known as the "chicken coop" was where grandpa's sister, Mary lived. Unmarried and cared for by grandpa, Aunt Mary welcomed visitors with the warmth of bread and jelly in her modest home - an abode perhaps no larger than ten by twenty feet. She had a yappy little dog named Lammy. No one really liked him, but he was company for her.  

Nestled beside her tiny dwelling was grandpa's workshop, a testament to his craftsmanship. Once his first home, it transformed into a hub of creativity as he lent his skilled hands to carpentry. Machinery hummed, sawdust danced in motes of light, and the rich scent of fresh-cut wood enveloped me like a nostalgic embrace. I would collect leftover scraps to create my own miniature towns in the backyard fueled by imagination.

So how did a young man from Vittoria, Sicily who arrived in the United States at the age of 15 with his father, Biagio and didn't speak a word of English come to make a homestead in Great River, Long Island? 

In 1920, after completing his service in the army during WWI, Philip welcomed his father, Biagio back to the United States.  A few years prior, Biagio was summoned back to Sicily for unclear reasons, but while he was there his wife had died.  Biagio and his 3 daughters, Giovannina, Angelina and Maria arrived in the US.  Giovannina and Angelina were quickly married off and Maria (Mary) remained unmarried and cooked and cleaned for her brother and father.  The 3 Vampatella's were living in cheap, close quarts in Marion, Jersey City, New Jersey. Marion had a large concentration of Italians and warehouses where laborers could work.  

The city's cobblestone streets echoed with the cacophony of traffic, a symphony of honking horns, shouting vendors, and the relentless clanking of trains.  As a railway hub, Marion was a hive of activity, its air thick with the noxious blend of industrial fumes and the swampy stench that grandpa described as a "cocktail served to all and sundry." Yet, amidst this chaotic, sensory-overloading environment, Biagio and Philip found a way to thrive, working diligently and saving their hard-earned money.

One day in 1921, while perusing the newspaper, an ad caught the eye of Philip. It said something to the effect of: 

Prime Long Island Real Estate!

Attention, aspiring landowners!!

 Here’s your golden opportunity to acquire a generous plot of ground on picturesque Long Island!

 

Nestled amid lush vegetation and offering a tranquil escape, this splendid piece of land is but a stone’s throw away from the shimmering shores of the sea. Imagine the soothing sounds of the waves and the gentle sea breeze right at your doorstep!

 

Located just a few hundred feet from the charming center of town, you’ll enjoy the perfect harmony of serene countryside living and convenient access to local amenities.

 

All this can be yours for the astonishingly low price of just $250!  

Don’t let this incredible opportunity slip through your fingers! First come, first served. Act now and secure your slice of paradise!

Philip and Biagio took the train to Great River, Long Island and met with the agent from the "House and Home Company". From the train station they climbed into a Ford Model T taxi and headed north on a dusty dirt road. The driver left the 3 of them in this vast empty plot of land. Grandpa describes this place in Passeggiata: 

"This place was all the ad had claimed. Vast expanses of scrub oak vied shoulder high against the taller jack pines hugging loftier elevations. There was no visible sign of human habitation; only a virgin sea of green split by a dusty road coming to a dead-end declivity. The road, main drag of the area, was Connetquot Avenue."

Philip was a little disappointed it wasn't a "stone's throw" away from the sea and complained to the agent.  They walked about 2 miles more and there was a clear strip of land that was later to be called Cedarhurst St. The road was not paved.  There was no power, no water, no telephone wires - there was nothing. It wasn't even close to a town that the ad had mentioned! Biagio and Philip discussed whether this is where they wanted to settle.  No city, no noise, no foul-smelling air, no garbage. Biagio said, "..it was as God had made it, very nice." 

Philip turned to the agent and said, "We'll take one acre" and gave him a deposit. Biagio now owned a piece of America!! But having land and building a home were two different things. A home was a lot more money and time and until they could build that home, Philip, Biagio and Mary moved away from the chaos of Marion, New Jersey and out to Long Island closer to their future. 

By 1924, Biagio was diligently working alone to clear his land and dig a hole for his new home.  Meanwhile, Philip was navigating the challenges of married life with his beloved Antoinette Rapuano. He made a point for her to visit her family in New Haven twice a month, all while managing their life on Long Island.  After welcoming 2 children, Antoinette grew weary of the cramped quarters, the outhouses, and the burden of paying rent. A quiet woman who "asked for nothing" found the courage to request her hardworking husband to provide her with a proper home. 

In 1927, Philip took a significant step towards realizing his dream by purchasing two acres of land on Cedarhurst Street for $800. with determination and resourcefulness, he set about building his family's home from the ground up.  Philip salvaged wood from old stables and sheds belonging to the Belmont company, demonstrating his frugality and ingenuity. The construction process was a true community effort, with friends pitching in to help dig the foundation and pour cement.

Over the next three years, Philip worked tirelessly on the house, balancing his construction efforts with his growing family responsibilities. Even his wife joined in the labor, showcasing the couples' shared commitment to creating their home. Despite the challenges of raising 2 more children during this period, Philip persevered. His dedication paid off as the house gradually took shape, transforming from a mere plot of land into a warm, welcoming home for his expanding family. 

Philip Vampatella's greatest achievement wasn't just building a home, but creating a family legacy filled with love, laughter, and enduring memories. His homestead on Cedarhurst Street will forever remain a symbol of one man's dream and the family that flourished because of it.  

I'd like to acknowledge Perplexity in helping me craft this story. And Philip Vampatella for writing his life in Passaggiata. 

 Prompt: Changing Names:                                                                       February 24, 2024

This prompt resonated deeply with me, as several members of my family have undergone name changes.  My great uncle, Charles Beccherini, legally shed his Italian surname, becoming Charles Beech, perhaps aiming to lessen its influence on his identity. Similarly, my great uncle Anthony Rapuano adopted the name Freddie Rappuano. Rumors swirled that he held a low-level position within the mafia, possibly prompting the change.  Unlike these relatives, my grandfather Andrew Titone retained his name, but his children adopted their stepfathers' surnames, presumably seeking distance from him.  While each alteration likely stemmed from personal rationale, instances of reverting to the original name are uncommon. a notable exception was my other grandfather, Philip Vampatella, who eventually reclaimed his original name. Here is his story. 

1896 September 14 - Filippo Vampatella was born in Biscari, Sicily. When dinner time came his mom would yell for him, "Filippo, vieni e mangia!" (Filippo, Come eat!) When he needed to be disciplined his father might say, "Filippo, non farlo!" (Filippo, don't do that!) 

Filippo's Civil Birth Record

1913 March 19th, Biagio and his son Filippo boarded the S.S. Napoli in Palermo. They left behind Filippo's mother, Angela, and his sisters Giovannina, Angelina and Maria in hopes to return home to their loved ones with money in their pocket for a better life. 

Searching for Filippo's immigration record was quite the challenge as the transcription of his name was "Filippo Vanpatilla". Making the discovery of his immigration more difficult. The copy of the record is poor and almost impossible to read and I can see how someone would transcribe his name incorrectly. 

1914 July - WWI broke out.  

1915 February - Philip as he was now called in America, writes in Passeggiata, "...word from Angela about some urgent business at home. So, Biagio borrowed some money, told his boy he would be back soon and boarded the first ship back to Italy." 

He continues to write, "Letters from home informed the boy Biagio could not come back right away but that he would as soon as he was able to." 

Although, I cannot be certain as to the urgent matter back in Italy that Angela referred to, I can speculate.  When Biagio and Filippo left Sicily in March of 1913 - Angela was expecting.  I don't know if Biagio knew or not, I'd like to think he didn't know.  On September 10th, 1913, in the town of Vittoria, Angela gave birth to a set of twin boys - Mario and Giovanni. Angela was now taking care of her 3 daughters, Giovaninna, Angelina and Maria as well as infant twin sons.  Maria, the twin's sister (our aunt Mary), indicated they died when they were 2. The cause of their deaths, whether illness or accident, remains unknown. 

1915 May 23 - Italy enters World War I.  In Passeggiata, Philip says he would get letters from his father, Biagio, 

Often he wrote his son to return home and do his duty in the army. Philip let his father's suggestions slip by unheeded but sent home some money every time he wrote.

From home news continued on the gloomy side.  Biagio, Angela and the girls felt the pinch of hunger; food was scarce due to so many men taken from the fields into the army. Few women were able to take men's places. 

Cousin Rosario had stopped an Austrian bullet somewhere in the Alps. Cousin Giovanni awaited induction, Cousin Biagio was still too young but anxious to go. Sister Giovannina had a sweetheart in the army. Sister Lina helped Angela care for a set of twins born since Biagio's return home; These two brothers Philip never came to know: they died in infancy.  Sister Maria was yet at school. 

 With this picture before his eyes, Philip could not reconcile himself with the idea he owed his native land anything.  Biagio continuously wrote him to return home and help win the war.  Philip never had enough money to pay passage back. He was blissfully ignorant of the fact he could have gone free of charge.  He continued to demure, some impulse telling him to stay back and work and keep sending money home.  Biagio wrote he would contact people in high place to compel his son to return and do his duty. 

Philip did not like this because he had begun to like America. He was afraid too, that Biagio, a man of his word, would carry out the threat. Philip left New Haven, assumed a spurious name, went to New Britain, stopped writing home.

Philip was caught between his family back in Italy and his new home, America.  Italians were not favorably looked upon here in the United States and a name like Vampatella was clearly an Italian name. Judgements were made just by hearing a name like that.  

   

1917 July 11th, he applied for Naturalization using the name Philip Vamptell. 

1918 January 18th, he joined the United States Army under the name Philip Vamptell.  he was a private in the 22nd regiment of the U.S. Infantry.

While in the army, he met with a sergeant Francois and had the following conversation:  

Off-handedly the sergeant fished for information. he wanted to know why the boy had misspelled his name.

'You seem to know your a-b-c's pretty well,' said the sergeant. 'I know most Italian names end in a, e, i or o. Why not yours?'

'Simple, sarge. I like to Americanize my spelling. That should be reason enough. But I don't mind telling you the real reason: I don't like to be in the Italian army.'

'That's a reason? Pretty slim, isn't it?'

'I'm not ashamed of the Italian army. I'm not ashamed of the misspelling of my name. I'm simply afraid.'

'Afraid of what? Do you think the American army is going to pamper you?'

'No, my father is still in Italy. For the last 2 years he has begged me to enlist in the Italian army. Since I have turned a deaf ear to his pleas, he has finally threatened me to have some responsible people in Italy contact some responsible people here to force me back to the old country.'

'That's a lot of bunk. They couldn't do that in the first place. Or could they?'

'I don't know. I just want to play it safe.'

1918 June, Philip along with 3 other soldiers were ordered to get on the ferry and then they were taken to City Hall in New York City.  The young men were scared, and one claimed, "I didn't do nothin!" They were ushered into a room with a man in a black robe, told to raise their right hands and made them swear allegiance to the United States of America and declared them US Citizens. Philip writes, "Philip had yet to grasp the importance of being an American Citizen, but not for long.  He only regretted the misspelling of his name."

Philip did not maintain the name Vamptell. He went back to using his Italian birth name of Vampatella.  He must have been bothered by his name change and in 1962, after he got married and had children, he didn't want that name haunting him or his children and had the following document drawn up declaring that Filippo Vampatella, Philip Vamptell and Philip Vampatella were the same person. 

My grandpa was a very special man.  So glad he wrote his story so the rest of us could understand and appreciate what he endured.  I'm proud he kept his name Vampatella!! 

 Prompt: Witness to History                                                                                 January 18,2024

World War II, indeed, was a global conflict that had a profound and lasting impact on the world we live in today. From 1939 to 1945, millions of people were killed, cities were destroyed, and the political landscape of the world was forever changed.  

The war was fought on land, sea, and air, with major battles taking place in Europe, Asia, and Africa.  Some of the most well-known battles include the Battle of Iwo Jima, the D-Day invasion, and the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

We've all seen movies, read books and heard stories. But there were those who lived and partook in this history. 

Biagio "Bennie" Philip Vampatella was 14 when the war started. Born in Connecticut on the 4th of July 1925, he was the first son of Philip and Antoinette Vampatella. As the naming pattern of Italian families go, he was named after his paternal grandfather. 

I imagine the family huddling around the radio and listening with anxiety and anticipation to the distant news of the day. Bombs, air raids, captures, injuries, and deaths occurring across the Atlantic and Pacific. Family discussions regarding the role of the United States and its allies against fascism, the role and the power of democracy and freedom. Bennie's father reminding his family what life was like in Sicily and how much better life was in the U.S. because this country heard the voices of its people in making laws and decisions and voting in the leader of the country. This is the "land of the free and the home of the brave".

In 1943, 2 days before he turned 18, Bennie enlisted in the navy. He was assigned to the U.S.S. Arkansas, a dreadnought battleship. The Arkansas was initially used to accompany occupied forces to Europe but help was needed on the sea to assist in the war effort.  The ship needed some repairs and updates. When they were completed, her first mission was June 6, 1944 off the northern coast of France - D-Day! 

Arkansas (BB 33) (navy.mil) - More Information about the U.S.S. Arkansas

Bennie was in the Gunnery Department along with many other men. The sailors would have been dwarfed by the sheer size of the 12-inch guns they toiled to load. These behemoths, towering like steel sentinels, were capable of hurling shells weighing over a ton, each one a monstrous harbinger of destruction for the enemy lines.  

Imagine the scene: Bennie, his muscles straining under the exertion, heaving on ropes thick as his arm to drag a shell up the loading ramp. his comrades, faces grim with determination, would be manhandling other components, their synchronized movements a desperate ballet against the clock. the Guns themselves, their dark bores glinting with malevolent purpose, would dominate the space, their every shudder a portent of the violence to come.

General Eisenhower lead the initiative of the allies to storm the beaches of Normandy. D-Day!!  The ship was located about 4,000 yards off Omaha beach.  All the men were aware that their goal was to bomb the hell out of the Germans in hopes of softening the enemy before the land invasion. The intensity of their mission was felt throughout the ship. This was the do or die moment for the allies. Bennie along with his fellow gunners, loaded those barrels and started firing about 6am for about 40 minutes before the assault troops landed on the beach.  The sounds of the guns were deafening, the acrid smell of cordite, the smoke and sweat burned their eyes as these crew members worked tirelessly to aid in the landing of the troops on Omaha Beach.

Bennie's father, Philip Vampatella writes in Passeggiata: When the firing ceased, "the forward part of the wooden cover over the steel decking of the Arkansas was torn up and in splinters, not from enemy shell hits but from concussion or vacuum created by her own blasts. That night Ben left the gun turret, found a spread tarpaulin on a section of deck, crept under it, went to sleep with his head resting on what appeared to be a sea bag. On awaking he found the ship heading westward and the object he had used a a pillow, the rigid body of a dead shipmate". 

Meanwhile, back in Great River, Long Island, New York, Ben's mom and dad listened to the radio and heard the first radio bulletin on NBC - 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K9xk9GaV0NE

The Arkansas's job continued the 25th of June bombarding Cherbourg attacking the German fortification of the port.  The allies won!

From the end of June to September, Bennie and his fellow crewmates helped the allied forces in Oran, Algeria; Taranto, Italy; southern France; and Sicily then headed back to Boston for repairs. 

Bennie's little brother Philip was 4 years old when Bennie got leave.  Philip writes, "Now I really don't know if he had called ahead or if it was a surprise... but one day, big brother Ben appeared at the front door. He had gotten some time off while the ship was in port.  I remember jumping for joy, but most of all, I remember my mother, his mother, and her reactions. she grabbed him and wouldn't let go. she cried, she laughed, she loved, she kissed him. I never before (or since) seen such consummate joy in a human being as I saw in my mother that moment. But that's when the trouble started. Mom when she had collected herself, asked 'how long are you home for'? 'For a little while,' he said and I, a four year old, had no idea what a "little while" meant.  Was it minutes? Was it hours? all I know is that I broke into uncontrollable sobs because I thought he was leaving right away. As it was he was home for a week or so." 

The war continued and Bennie was now headed to the Pacific via the Panama Canal. The Arkansas was situated off the west coast of Iwo Jima in February 1945. The goal - the take the island and its airfields from the Imperial Japanese Army. They bombarded the Japanese resistance so the Marines could land on the island and take it over.  

In March of the same year they headed to Okinawa. For 46 days they bombarded the beach while the kamikaze's attempted to attack the Arkansas without success. A testament to the tenacity of its crew, who under Bennie's watchful gaze, kept the guns spitting defiance in the face of impossible odds.

Bennie's desire to fight for his country, defend against tyranny, and support a democratic way of life lead him into some of the most important battles of the war. He witnessed war firsthand and watched the tide turn in favor of the allies.

As Bennie stepped off the Arkansas at war's end, he carried within him the scars, both physical and emotional, of his wartime experiences. He had seen the face of evil, felt the sting of loss, and tasted the bitter sweetness of victory. But he also carried the unwavering spirit of a man who had stared into the abyss and emerged, forever changed, but unbroken. 

 

Prompt #3 FAVORITE PHOTO                                                                              January 15, 2024

Who is that elegant woman walking down the boardwalk in Atlantic City? It’s clear everyone wants to know. Look at them all turning to look at her! She walks with dignity and grace. People can’t even get close to her because she’s so special. She wears a wide brimmed hat to shade her from the hot sun which protects her silky-smooth skin. Her white gloves scrunched down to her wrists for a fashionable statement. A string of pearls encircles her neck. A simple dress for a daytime stroll, with hose and heels. 

Who took this photo? The photographer blurred the boardwalk’s throng into a haze leaving only this lovely lady to be the star.  Is she a celebrity, a socialite, a wealthy individual or even someone of royal descent?  She looks off and wears a Mona Lisa smile. What is she thinking? Who was she thinking about?

 

 

This is no celebrity, no socialite, no one of royal descent.  This is my great grandmother, Angelina Beccherini nee Bianchi. Nona was born in Treviglio, Italy on the 3^rd day of July 1883 and died in Islip, New York on the 4^th of December 1965. I remember playing a card game with her - “Steel the old man’s pack”. Nona was a tiny lady.  I remember being about 6 or 7 years old and being the same height as her.  Her curly hair was her gift to me. Her speech had a strong Italian accent pronouncing her words with stress on different syllables - for example comfortable was "comFORtable"

Angelina, along with her sister Arturina, arrived in New York on 4 June 1904 on the S.S. La Lorraine. They had $100.00 and they were going to their "brother Bianchi" on 78 Charlton St. New York. Her nationality was Italian, but her last permanent address was Havre France. 

She married Carlo Beccherini on the 14^th of October 1907 in New York City at St. Vincent De Paul and their original marriage certificate is written in French!  

She was very close with my father whom she called “Sonny”. Nona was a very special lady and I'm glad I got to meet her. 

 

 

PROMPT: Origins                                                                                     January 5, 2024

When I was a little girl, I was always curious to know where in Italy my family came from.  Both grandfathers, it was said, came from beautiful sunny Sicily – my paternal grandfather from Palermo and my maternal grandfather from Siracusa.  My paternal grandmother’s family was from Milan and my maternal grandmother’s family was from Naples.  As with most of us, even today, many times when someone asks us where we are from, we tend to give them the nearest largest city.  Although I didn’t realize this in my early years, I did learn this as I was doing my family history. 

Years later, I set off on a quest to find exactly where in Naples my maternal great grandfather, Sebastiano “Steve” Rapuano was born. His date of birth was November 2, 1877.  I was armed with Grandpa Philip’s memoir, “Passaggiata”. The book painted a vivid picture of the man who would eventually become his father-in-law, Steve Rapuano. Philip tells of the time that he and his father Biagio were at the humble home of Sebastiano and Mariella Rapuano in New Haven, Connecticut for the first time. 

Philip writes, “It did not take long for the two fathers to get chummy after revealing each other’s family history. It appeared that Steve migrated from Puglianello, near Naples and landed in New Haven when he was in his early teens.”

Puglianello is a comune or municipality in the Province of Benevento in the region of Campania.  Puglianello is about 60 Km(37 miles) north of Naples. 

 

The search for a birth record for Steve started.  Antenati.cultura.gov.it, is an online treasure trove of Italian vital records.  I searched in Puglianello and in various years of birth without any luck.  This was a painstaking search that ended in disappointment. My search broadened to other comunes in the Provence of Benevento and stumbled upon Sebastiano’s birth record in a quaint village nestled in the mountains called FAICCHIO!! What a find!! Not only did it match his birthday, I learned the names of his parents! Angelantonio Rapuano and Mariantonia Friso or Freso – my great great grandparents – the people who are some of the reason I sit here today writing this story. I want to know more!

 Faicchio is 8.6 Km (5.3miles) north of Puglianello.

San Salvatore Telesino is 5.9 Km from Faicchio (3.6 miles) and 5 Km from Puglianello (3.1 miles)

Angelantonio Rapuano was 31 years old in 1877 so I took an educated guess that he was born about 1846 in Faicchio.  The search was grueling, always ending in disappointment.  As I was perusing through ancestry.com, my curiosity was piqued by a man who had a huge Rapuano/Rabuano family tree. The “p” and “b” have similar sounds and many times they are interchanged in the records. Tom was good enough to answer my messages and lo and behold, we are very distant cousins along the Rapuano line. His thorough and extensive research had me focus on a very ancient village called San Salvatore Telesino.

BINGO!! Angelantonio was born 25 September 1846 in San Salvatore Telesino to Sebastiano Rapuano and Maria Grazia di Brigida!  I am now dancing throughout the house and yelling, “I found it!” to anyone who would listen! (My poor husband Mark).

Tom’s research has led him to discover some of our oldest Rapuano/Rabuano ancestors, two of whom are Nicola and Cleto who were born in the late 1500’s.  It is unknown how they may be related, but it is likely they are our 10^th Great Grandfathers. 

Without Tom’s expert experience, I may never have found the origin of my Rapuano/Rabuano ancestors.

 

 

Prompt: FAMILY LORE                                                                                          JAN 5, 2024

Little Vincent Huneke born Dec 3, 1901, in Brooklyn, New York, loved playing with his grandfather, Anthony Rush born Nov 16, 1835 in Roscommon, Ireland. Vincent was living at 334 39^th Street, Brooklyn, New York with his father, George Huneke, his mother, Margaret, his siblings, Helen, Bernadette, Lillian, and George C and his grandfather, Anthony Rush and his uncle Patrick J. Rush.

They were getting ready for winter and Vincent was out with his granda chopping wood.  At 75, Anthony had a little loss of hearing and a touch of senility. That didn’t stop him from telling his grandsire stories of his antics in the Civil War.  With his strong Irish brogue, he told Vincent of the various battles that Company C of the 78^th New York Regiment Infantry engaged in.  I Imagine it went something like this:

Aye, the memories of war, lad, they cling to you like the scent of gunpowder and sweat.

I remember it like it was yesterday. It was a hot day that August of 1862. We were at Cedar Mountain in Culpepper County, Virginia. There were rolling hills that reminded me of my home in Ireland.  But the forest was thick and that helped us battle those confederates.  So many were wounded and died, but I survived.

Just a month later, on an early September morning, the battle of Antietam occurred in Maryland. Now that was a battle to end all battles, but it didn’t! The air was thick with smoke and the sounds of canons. We were able to push those confederates back. But that damn Lee refused to retreat, and the battle continued into the evening. We were all exhausted!!

Aye, then there was that Battle at Chancellorsville. That was three days of hell in May 1863.  We marched in with numbers on our side, a tide of blue against the rebel gray. Yet, Lee, the old fox, outsmarted us. He slithered through the thickets, flanking us with whispers of steel and smoke. The union was outsmarted, and we had to retreat. 

Aye, this damn lumbago!! It’s a brutal beast that has caused me so many problems since that bullet caught me. I was shot by some johnny reb in Chancellorsville.

Vincent, a rambunctious little boy, rolled his eyes at the blarney his granda was giving him. He had heard the stories before, and the ailments Anthony complained about. Finally, after hearing enough, Vincent says, “Well, you wouldn’t have been shot in the back if you weren’t runnin’ away!” At that, Anthony picked up his axe and hurled it at Vincent missing him by a hair.

This family story led to years of research and the truth.  Anthony was in those battles, and he was shot at the Battle of Chancellorsville on May 2, 1863.  His left hand near his index finger had a bullet through it. Per his deposition to the special counsel regarding pension Anthony says, “…he looked at my hand; three or four other doctors were busy amputating and the hospital steward – don’t know his name – washed my hand. The doctor bound up my hand and I remained about two days around camp when we got (unable to read) away. Doctor took out splinters of bone; I didn’t go to hospital; the troops fell back about the 5^th of May and I joined the regiment….”

It always made the family proud that their ancestor was fighting for the union army and they would chuckle to think he was running away when he got shot.  He wasn’t running – he was fighting!!

 

Prompt: “Should have been a movie”                                                               May 4, 2023

The Case of the “Hobby Horse” was a real whodunnit what should have been a movie.

https://www.heartofconeyisland.com/steeplechase-park-coney-island.html

In the late 1800’s and early 1900’s Coney Island, New York offered much fun and relaxation for the rich and poor alike.  The beaches, the delicious new Coney Island Hot Dog, and the Steeplechase ride! This ride was invented by George C. Tilyou who was looking for ways for people to have fun.  He had started with the Ferris Wheel and then built this magnificent structure in 1897.   The ride was gravity-powered, and the six horses made of steel, wood, and wheels could go up to 25 miles per hour on six parallel rails.

Each horse held 2 people.

 https://www.heartofconeyisland.com/steeplechase-park-coney-island.html

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Steeplechase_Park

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IRiwXzgCaVQ -video of the Steeplechase Ride at Coney Island

On a sunny day in August 1897¹ the amusement park was packed with people. George Huneke and his friend John Walters wanted to experience a thrill-seeking adventure on the Steeplechase. They probably stopped for a hot dog and maybe a beer and got on the ride.  John and George paid the 25 cents and John sat on the front of the horse and George on the back. On the horse next to John and George was a young woman.

 After being on the ride for about 30-40 feet, George says, “(I) experienced a sudden jar which threw (me) violently forward and to one side and then off the horse. The horse proceeded and (my) leg was mangled”.² George went right to the hospital and that night had his left leg³ amputated from above the knee. (The 12 Mar 1903 newspaper article “Mounted Horse in Court” says it was his right leg that was crushed-we cannot be sure which leg was injured,)

Having only one leg must have caused hardship for George, his wife Margaret (nee Rush) and their children: Marguerite, Helen, Bernadette, Ester (who died at 2 weeks of age) and their newest child, Vincent born 1901. As a Mercantile clerk, he couldn’t earn much to support his family. George likely used a prosthetic leg such as the one in the picture.

In March of 1902, George decided to sue the West Brighton Amusement Company, who owned Steeplechase, and George C. Tilyou, one of the directors, for $30,000 .  It became known as the “hobby horse case” because the steeplechase horse stood in the middle of the courtroom during the trial.   After a week and a half of testimony, Justice Betts awarded George $25,429.24. WOW!! This was one of the “heaviest verdicts ever rendered by a jury in Kings County”. That was a lot of money in 1902!! This much money could have offered the Huneke family a nicer home, clothing and maybe a better prosthetic leg!

By July 1902, the West Brighton Amusement Company still had not paid a cent and George started another judgement against the Company, In February 1903 the Appellate Division of the Supreme Court reversed the earlier judgement and the case was sent back for another trial. According to The Brooklyn Daily Times⁴, during the first trial, the jury was instructed to “Infer from the accident having occurred that the defendant (West Brighton Amusement Company) was negligent”. Justice Bartlett, who was now proceeding with the current judgement said,

“It seems quite clear to my mind that in a case like this, where there is a square issue upon the proof, as to which of two actors, the plaintiff or the defendant, caused the fall which injured the plaintiff, it is error to tell the jury that they many infer that the defendant is the party responsible therefor simply from the fact that the accident occurred.”

The defense, West Brighton Amusement Company, gave up interest in the steeplechase ride in April 1902 and  the property now belonged to George C. Tilyou.  Tilyou says that all the equipment on the Steeplechase was working well on that summer day in 1897 but George was “skylarking” (horsing around – no pun intended).  They say he was leaning over to interact with the woman on the next horse trying to grab her reins when his leg got caught under the hind leg of his horse and his leg was mangled. 

In trying to prove a point, Stephen C. Baldwin, George’s attorney, mounted one of the steeplechase horses that was in the courtroom and per the Brooklyn Daily Times and said:

“Gentlemen of the jury,….you notice that my legs are long. The defense set up is that Huneke was skylarking and leaning over to catch the bridle of another horse ridden by a young woman, and that his leg went under the body of the horse and was caught by the horse’s hind leg and a stanchion.  Gentlemen of the jury, I am now leaning over.  As I said, I have long legs, yet you see that it would be impossible for even my long legs to go under the horse and be broken and torn as was the leg of Huneke”.⁵

The jury could not agree on a verdict. There was talk of another trial, but I was unable to get any court documents regarding any of the trials .  One can only imagine what really happened on that day on the steeplechase ride. 

 

1. “Verdict of $25,000 For Loss of a Leg”, The Brooklyn Citizen 14 Mar 1902 page 11

2.  “25,000 Verdict Set Aside” Brooklyn Times, Brooklyn, New York,  Friday February 13, 1903,  page 1, column 2.

3.  “Verdict for $25,000.” The Brooklyn Daily Eagle, Brooklyn, New York, Friday March 14, 1902 page 12.

4. ”$25,000 Verdict Set Aside” The Brooklyn Daily Times: Brooklyn, New York, Friday, February 13, 1903 page 1.

5. “Mounted Horse in Court”, The Brooklyn Daily Times; Brooklyn, New York; Thursday, March 12, 1903 page 4.