DAR Induction

13256551_10206007133404336_7324882476059906557_nI was officially inducted on Tuesday night into the Quassaick Chapter of the Daughters of the American Revolution.  My excitement is only dampened by the fact my eyes are closed in the picture and it was much, much too hot that day to wear my patriotic scarf.  So much for posterity! Oh, the lament!

In any event, I am so very proud to have John Wickham as my ancestor. John was a drill sergeant and served in both the French & Indian War and the Revolutionary War.  I am thrilled to be able to honor him and his contributions to our nation’s cause. He passed along his skills, teaching others how to fight for our freedom and in my book, that is definitely something to be proud of.

Woodhull Cemetery – Orange County, NY


The Woodhull Cemetery, Orange County, NY © Jill Moore 2016

I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned it before but my teenage years were spent living above a funeral home in my home town of Ashville, Ohio.  It’s true.  My parents divorced and I spent my entire high school years living above the funeral home where my mom rented the apartment upstairs from her friend and boss, the funeral director.  He’d recently bought a house for his growing family and as ours had just “shrunk”, we were offered their old apartment over the funeral home.  I can definitely say that my viewpoint of death was altered from those years.  If I had to put a word on it… I think I “revere” it more now and that’s probably why I delve into genealogy like I do.  I want to learn their stories, what they did, who they were, who they loved…. it all matters. That’s what I took away from those funeral home years.

DAR Margaret Corbin Day Ceremony


The DAR monument for Margaret Corbin at the Old Cadet Chapel on West Point.  © Jill Moore, 2010

Yesterday, I attended my first “official” Daughters of the American Revolution event at West Point’s Military Academy to honor the Revolutionary War heroine Margaret Cochran Corbin.  While the weather was positively wretched, misting all day long with nary a beam of sunlight at all to grace us, the ceremony held at the beautiful Old Cadet Chapel at West Point’s cemetery was especially moving and the brief presentation of her life by retired Brigadier-General Maritza Ryan detailing the hard life Margaret a.k.a “Molly” endured beginning at a young age and extending to her post-war years was particularly interesting. There was a gorgeous blue and yellow rose wreath to be laid at her monument and the honor guard provided a gun salute before taps was played.  So moving….

The Terrible Death of Ebenezer Wheeler

If you watch AMC’S show TURN:  Washington’s Spies, you’re well aware of the the Queen’s Ranger leader Robert Rogers.  As noted in the show, Rogers fought in the French & Indian War.  My 1st cousin, 7X removed, Ebenezer Wheeler enlisted and went with Rogers in a raid to Quebec in 1759 where poor Ebenezer suffered a most terrible death on the return trip home, as did several others.  The description is just heart-wrenching.


Excerpt from pg. 44 of The Genealogical and Encyclopedic History of the Wheeler Family in America.

Why History Needs Saved

I came across this in my feed today and was just baffled and horrified at the same time. What is happening in our classrooms that these students do not know basic American history or even CURRENT things – like who is the Vice President?! I was recalling my chat with my DAR chapter president about how important I feel it is that we continue the legacy of documenting our lives, our ancestors and our nation so that they aren’t forgotten by time. Just listening to these young people, my brain is boggled and my heart hurts. Clearly, history, our history, needs saved. There is so much focus on making the next technological breakthrough and pushing the limits of progress to where I feel like history is just being cast aside and obviously, forgotten by many. I know certain states are beginning to give incentives for students to enter scientific, mathematical or medical fields and sure, that’s great but not at the expense of forgetting who we are and where we’ve come from. It’s just a sad state of affairs.