Thursday, March 3, 2011

The J.T. Fairall WWI Letters: (4) November 22, 1917

Winchester Cathedral, a few miles
north of Southampton
In the fourth letter written by J.T. Fairall during WWI, Jack has finally made it back on land.  Currently in Southampton (southern coast of England), he is taking in the scenery and the people of the United Kingdom.  The British accent is a bit challenging for Jack to understand, particularly of those in Liverpool where he had just come from, and anyone from a Scottish or Irish descent.  

Jack relates to his mother a comparison of prices of goods between the States and England.  It gives the reader an idea of the currency exchange rate - in 1917, an American got a better deal in England; while in 2011, the opposite is generally true.  

Jack seems relaxed, appreciating the holly trees and parks, as well as the local restaurants and cafes.  He also believes he came across a familiar name to the family, a K.E. Rockey.  None of Jack's letters confirms whether it was indeed the Keller Rockey he thought.  Jack's letter (among several others to follow) is written on a YMCA paper, printed especially for the U.S. military.  The YMCA played a major supporting role for the military during World War I.      

11/22/191[7]*

Dear Mother

We are now in Southampton waiting to be sent across.  We have quarters in an English rest camp just at the edge of town in what was evidently a park, a very pretty location.  It is filled with trees, some of the prettiest holly trees I ever saw much prettier than the holly that we have at home.

This is a very small world.  I don't believe I ever went anyplace that I didn't meet someone that I know.  The first name that I saw when I landed in camp was Capt. K.E. Rockey on a headquarters door of the American marines.  I inquired of some of the marines and I am sure that he is Keller Rockey that we know.

Southampton is a very pretty town.  It is very neat and clean with several parks scattered around.  The dwelling houses are very quaint.  There are some that are set back in yards but most of them set on the sidewalks with no porches.  The majority have [illegible - four words?].

The people here are much easier to understand than in Liverpool.  The night before we left L[iverpool] we had leave several of us went sightseeing.  We had dinner in a cafe and I left a cap.  I was lucky when I remembered it.  It was about 11 P.M.  I just got back in time to the waitresses going home.  The manageress a very pretty little woman opened up and got my cap.  I talked with her for a while but surely had a time [illegible - three words?] for everyone here talks very fast especially the people of Scotch or Irish decent.

I have been very interested in the store windows.  About 80% of the mndse here is much cheaper than at home shoes that we would pay $10.00 for sell at about $7.00 all other stuff is as cheap a suit of cloths that we would pay $35.00 for sells at $25.00.  The people here cannot complain of the high cost of living.

As it is dinner time I will close as ever

Your affectionate son 
Jack

address J.T. Fairall R.M.A.
Aviation Section Sig Corps
American Expeditionary Forces
via New York

* 19 is date stamped on the top of the page, but the year is not further specified.  Based on the known timeline, the letter was likely written in 1917.

Envelope (back is blank)
Page 1

Page 2

Page 3
Page 4

Saturday, February 26, 2011

The J.T. Fairall WWI Letters: (3) November 18, 1917

A photo of a typical plane that J.T. flew - after two weeks of
no flying, Jack was anxious to get back in the air.
With just a day left of his voyage across the ocean to Europe, J.T. Fairall writes his third of fifty-two letters during World War I.  He's getting impatient with the "monotony" of life on the sea, especially considering he recently had been actively flying every day while training for his responsibilities in the war.  And two weeks of relative inactivity have resulted in Jack gaining some weight.  So in addition to looking forward to flying again, he's also anxious to get back into shape.

You'll notice in this letter that a word or two has been erased possibly by a censor.  You can see this in the scanned image of the first page of the letter far below.  It is not the first time something has been censored in Jack's letters. Since this letter was written in pencil, it would have been easy for either Jack or a censor to erase information that could be of use to the Germans.

Finally, on a side note, I aim to include a relevant photo with each of these letters.  After the war, Jack put together a small photograph album of pictures he took.  I think these photos will add a layer of depth and interest to Jack's letters.

Jack's third letter:    
  
11/18/17
Shipboard

Dear Mother,

We will be in port tomorrow, can see both Scotland and Ireland now.  The trip has been very tiresome and only saw 2 ships and several schools of fish to break the monotony of seeing nothing but water.  It has been nothing but eat sleep and rest.  After flying every day for 2 or 3 mo., this inactivity is surely tiring.  We had a stopover in Halifax but were not allowed to go ashore.

Yesterday our fleet was met by a fleet of [erased - censored?] Destroyers.  They are very speedy and it helps some to watch them run around our scows*.  For the last 2 days we have had to lug a life preserver around with us all the time even to our meals.  The weather was a little rough mostly all the way over but none of the fellows got very sick.  The salt air affected me as it always does.  I have eaten so much that I am about to the butchering stage.  It will take a good bit of work to get down to normal again.

Our orders read to France but we are liable to land in Egypt before we are settled.  I sent a letter from Halifax.  Hoping that this finds all well.  I am

Your affectionate son Jack

Address J.T. Fairall R.M.A.
Aviation Section Signal Corps
American Expeditionary Force
Via New York

* A scow in the literal sense is a flat-bottomed boat with a blunt bow, similar to a barge.  In this case, Jack was possibly making fun of the slowness of their ships compared to the speed of the Destroyers.

Page 1
Page 2

Thursday, February 24, 2011

The J.T. Fairall Letters: (2) November 17, 1917

In J.T. Fairall's second of fifty-two letters written during World War I, he is two weeks into the trip across the Atlantic Ocean.  He wrote this letter to his mother's brother Issy with an apology for not being able to meet up in New York before his ship went to sea.  His ship recently stopped in Halifax of Nova Scotia.  Interestingly, only a few days later on December 6, 1917, the largest explosion in world history at the time occurred at that same Halifax port, when two ships - one of them carrying munitions - had collided, resulting in more than 1,900 deaths.  Thankfully, Jack was already in France by that time. 

His letter reveals that there is a love for playing musical instruments in the family including the oboe and the cello.   Jack also mentions his desire to get a Lorey - it's unclear what instrument or brand he is referring to here, though there is a well-known company called Lowrey that makes pianos and organs.  In the photo below (taken after the war), Jack can be seen playing the violin while his wife Catherine plays the piano.
 

So here's Jack's second letter, in his own words:

Shipboard 11/17/17

Dear Issy*,

I am very sorry that I was unable to see you in New York.  I received your telegram just about an hour before we fell in to go to the ship.  I hope that you didn't come without my reply.  I am also sorry that I missed you while in Balto.  I would have phoned but didn't know your number nor your new address.

We stopped over at Halifax for a week but no one went ashore.  You cannot realize how tiresome it is to stay on board with land so close especially when it looks as though you could get most anything with a good rifle and shot gun and a good partner.  We will have to make the trip someday if nothing interferes.

The trip has been very uneventful, sighted two ships going opposite direction and a few odd fish.  For the last two days every one has been required to carry a life preserver around with them even to their meals.  I am continually leaving mine and having to trot back for it.  "great dope" also good exercise.  We surely haven't had very much of any other exercise.  Every morning we get out for fifteen minutes calisthentics, rather strenuous 15 min., every time the ship rolls you take a dive for the railing.  The mental exercise that we have is poker, blackjack, craps, chess, checkers, etc.  The rest of the time is spent wearing out your shoes on the deck or your trousers on a deck chair.  Some life!

We are now one or two days out and are surely glad that the trip is about over.  Two weeks on board ship is just beyond the point of enjoyment, especially when there are 4 in a stateroom and no ventilation.

Have you been able to do anything with the oboe?  Tell me in your next letter.  If I can get one reasonable I am going to get a Lorey.  It will be something to pass the time.  Do you still want me to look out for a cello.  If so let me know in your next letter. # For this time,

Jack
Address J.T. Fairall R.M.A.
Aviation Section Signal Corps
American Expeditionary Force
via New York

* Issy is short for Isadore Raynor Kline - Jack's maternal uncle.


Envelope (front)

Envelope (back)

Page 1

Page 2

Page 3

Page 4

Monday, February 21, 2011

The J.T. Fairall WWI Letters: (1) November 5, 1917

I'm grateful and honored that among my family history collection are fifty-two letters that my great-grandfather John "Jack" Tyler Fairall (b. 8 Apr 1892, d. 7 July 1972) wrote during World War I as a reconnaissance pilot in the 88th Aero Squadron.  I'm pleased to share with you not only my transcriptions of the letters, but also the scanned digitized copies of the letters and envelopes.  I have transcribed the letters word-for-word as they were written.  I will also follow up each transcription with any additional insights or interpretations I can provide based upon my research.

Firstly, a bit of an introduction to Jack Fairall's first letter, which was written while aboard a ship heading across the Atlantic Ocean from the United States.  He started out as a private rank in the Enlisted Reserve Corps on June 5, 1917.  He then attended the School of Military Aeronautics in Columbus, Ohio at The Ohio State University on June 11.  On the first of July, he was promoted to the rank of private first class.  About a month later, he then trained at the Aviation School at Wilbur Wright Field of Ohio on August 6.  Three months following that training on November 2, he was sent to Tours, France to begin his next steps of training at the 2nd Aviation Instruction Center.1

So, we begin with his first letter as he journeys eastward upon the great Atlantic ocean:

Shipboard 11/5/17

Dear Mother*

I surely am glad for this opportunity of writing.  We have had an excellent time very good food, and as quite a number of the fellows play the piano we have quite a bit of music especially after dinner.  The weather has been cloudy and for the last day or two the water has been rather rough, so far all have made very good sailors.  We are out of regular lanes of travel we have seen no ships.  On the second day out we went through a school of porpoise.  This has been the only happening to break the monotony of the water.

I received your letter saying that the sweater had been mailed but did not receive it before leaving it will be forwarded but there is no telling where it will catch up with us.

I am sorry that I was unable to see Raynor^ in New York and I surely hope that he didn't make the trip without hearing from me but I didn't receive his telegram until we were forming to leave and there was no possible chance to answer it there.  I wish that you would call him up and explain as I will be unable to write to him at this time.

Tell Cousin Estelle to write and send her "piece."  Tell every one to write but not to expect interesting letters as both the incoming and outgoing mail are censored and we are not allowed to say anything that could be of use to the Germans and as there is no telling when they might get their hands on our mail we must say nothing.

Goodnight
Jack

Aviation Section Signal Corps
American Expeditionary Force
Via New York, NY

P.S. I haven't received my commission yet.  Please write to Mrs. Lamien and ask her to send it home if it comes.  Then forward.  J.  

*John's mother's name was Anna E. Rentch (nee Kline, married to Milton Lee Fairall then a partner of John Elmer Rentch).
^Raynor is John's maternal uncle - Isador Raynor Kline.

Page 1 (click for full size)

Page 2 (click for full size)

Page 3 (click for full size)

Page 4 (click for full size)

______________________________________________________________________________
Source Citations

1 "Maryland Military Men, 1917-18," database, Ancestry.com (http://www.ancestry.com/ : accessed 21 February 2011), entry for John Tyler Fairall.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

The Day Before Armistice Day

On this Veterans Day, I honor my great-grandfather J.T. Fairall.

On November 10, 1918, one day before Armistice Day, John Tyler Fairall, 1st Lieutenant, A.S.U.S.A. (Aviation Section, USA), a reconnaissance pilot and pilot instructor serving in France, wrote a letter to his mother.

Upon the front of the envelope:



In his writing:

November 10 1918

Dear Mother


I have just received my first mail at this post. Your letters of September 20th and 24th were in the lot. I suppose that by now every one knows that the German representatives are in France, and every one is waiting for the outcome of the conference. I surely hope that it will end so that I can get back. I am beginning to get tired of it all and will be glad to return to the U.S. There is quite a number here bemoaning the fact that they won’t get to the front. I can sympathise with them for it was an experience that I would not have missed for anything, but I am glad that it is all over but the shouting.

Paul Smith is evidently in the same fix as quite a lot more over there. It is new and having new experiences and is too busy to write. He is all right very likely.


I will write again in a day or so. This is all for this time.

As ever
Your loving son
Jack


J.T. Fairall 1st Lt. A.S.U.S.A.
St. Jean de Monts (Vender)
France





Thank you to all of our veterans serving us - past, present, and future.

Monday, November 1, 2010

Profiling Isaac Green Mask (1801-1877), Part I

Multitudes of my ancestors deserve a well-formed writing in memory of their lives.  A select few have left behind enough records, photographs, and/or property to an extent that I can dedicate a series of writings.

One such man, a fourth-great-grandfather of mine, is Isaac Green Mask.  According to his grave marker in the Reformed Graveyard in Shepherdstown, West Virginia, Isaac was born on October 11, 1801 and died on December 24, 1877.  Most federal census records confirm approximately his date of birth.  A daughter's death certificate and his obituary place his birth in Lancaster, Pennsylvania.  An obituary in The Baltimore Sun backs up his date of death, additionally pointing out he died in a daughter's residence in Shepherdstown. 

Isaac led a busy life, and he nearly lost his life as a political prisoner during the Civil War.  A combination of letters that he and an acquaintance wrote (that are now in my possession), along with Department of State records, document his experiences during the war.

The first written record that I have found mentioning Isaac is an advertisement promising a $100 reward for Isaac's return.  The ad, placed in The Baltimore Sun on April 8, 1818, shows that William Lusby, a Baltimore tailor, was looking for his missing apprentice boy:

The 1818 ad reads: "ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS REWARD.  Ran away from the subscriber, living in Baltimore, on Sunday, the 5th instant, an apprentice boy to the Tailoring business, named ISAAC GREEN MASK, about five feet four or five inches high, between 16 and 17 years of age - he had on when he went away, an olive cloth coat, blue cassimere pantaloons, buff and cassimere vest - fair complexion, very light hair.  All masters of vessels and others are forwarned employing, or harboring, or carrying off the said apprentice, as they will be dealt with agreeably to law.  Whoever takes up the said apprentice and secures him in any jail so that I get him again, or give information to me, at No. 100 1/2 Market street, shall receive the above reward.  WILLIAM LUSBY.  The following papers will copy the above four times and forward their bills: - National Intelligencer, Alexandria Herald, Fredericktown Examiner, Hagerstown Gazette, Lancaster Journal, York Gazette, and Democratic Press, Philadelphia. april 7 - dit."

The above ad gives me the best physical description of Isaac of any records I've found.  You can visualize what he looked like and what he was wearing in his adolescent youth.  As an apprentice boy, he was probably contracted as an indentured servant to Mr. Lusby.  He must have been suspected of having the ability or connections to make his runaway trip to a variety of locations.  The $100 reward in 1818 would be the equivalent of $1,740 in 2009 (see MeasuringWorth inflation calculator).  Quite a reward!  By the way, the word "cassimere" is a variant of cashmere.  A well-dressed tailoring apprentice!

While I don't know if Isaac was returned to Mr. Lusby, Isaac did follow the tailoring trade throughout his adult life.  He also maintained his rebellious streak.  More to come...

Monday, September 27, 2010

Memory Mondays: Living on the Farm

2007 Photo: Just outside Warsaw, NY in the fall
I recently received my long form birth certificate in the mail.  Aside from my slight disappointment in finding nothing surprising or new in the form (what did I expect?), which is actually a very good thing - the record starts out as a good segue into Memory Monday, a weekly blog post where I aim to bring up memories of my own or of a family member.  Today, I thought I'd go with a few bits of childhood memories of living on the farm.

Up until I was five years old, my parents, my older brother, and I lived in Wyoming County of western New York.  For the first year of my life, that was in a small house in the village of Warsaw.  After that, we moved to a farm on Dillon Road just a few miles northeast in Pavilion, NY.
My older brother and me (I look cranky) on the farm

On the farm, we had a little house on the edge of the road, with several acres of land.  We had some crops - my dad had a tractor he'd use to plow the land.  We had a barn with a silo next to it, lined with a fence.  Within the borders of the fence, we had several bulls and cows that were notorious for jumping the fence and getting loose.  My parents would then have to head out and round up the cattle.  Once one of the calves must have been feeling ill, and I vividly recall the calf was sitting in the house with some hay strewn about.  How many folks can say they had a cow living in their house?   My mom gave them some creatively morbid names such as Hamburger Patty, Big Mac, Angus (Gus), and Sir Loin.  They were ultimately sold for meat, poor things.

In the barn (no longer standing, sadly), we had some chickens.  There was a bottom level of the barn, but there was a ladder that led up to the top level.  I remember at some point in time, I was up at the top of the barn with my brother.  The radio was on, specifically playing the song "Flashdance" by Irene Cara (check out the official music video on YouTube!).  It's funny how songs can stick with your memories so intensely.  My brother would take pleasure in jumping off the top level of the barn onto a big stack of hay outside.

We also had some pigs on the farm, and I must say, I have a lingering mild dislike of pigs.  I had a little plastic pool filled with water, and at one time, the pigs decided to use the pool for some unsanitary business.  I couldn't use the pool anymore, thus a part of my childhood was somewhat ruined... by pigs.  Perhaps their escapades have influenced my love for BBQ pulled pork.  Bacon tastes pretty good, too.  Enough of that disturbing rant.

2007 Photo: Of the farm where we lived from 1980-1984

Onto a more pleasant thought, my dad would sometimes take the tractor into town.  There was a frequently occurring auction in town, and I suspect my parents got some good stuff at those auctions.  I remember sitting in my dad's lap taking one of those tractor trips down the hill into Pavilion.  It's a simple but happy memory!

The farm holds plenty of good memories for me.