G2G: Question of the Week: Do you have a story of resilience in your family tree?

+14 votes
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Do you have a story of resilience in your family tree? Perhaps a family member who was able to bounce back after adversity or adapt to difficult circumstances?

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in The Tree House by Golden Owl (3.1m points)
edited by Eowyn Langholf

13 Answers

+12 votes
Yes my dad, at age 10 he had Osteomyelitis and this was pre-antibiotics. It is an infectious inflammation of bone marrow.

Treatment at that time involved scraping the bone and removing of all infected and dead bone tissue

He spent a year in hospital, and had to learn to walk again, for many years he had to wear a caliper inserted through his right knee that helped to support his then very damaged leg. The caliper caused a finger deep healed hole.

When I was a child I thought it was fascinating that I could stick my finger into the scar.
by Golden Owl (1.4m points)

My great aunt had "magic" teeth that she could take out. I understand the fascination.

+15 votes

My paternal grandmother, Pearl McCleery Lovelace, is my most resilient ancestor I know about. She was 14 on Thanksgiving Day in 1901 when her house caught fire; Pearl, her parents and three brothers escaped with only the clothes they had on, and everything they had was lost in the fire. 

The next year, her mother died of a flu type illness; Pearl, age 15, was left to care for her three year old brother, Harry, and her six year old brother, Kyle. While her girlfriends went on with their lives, Pearl was expected to be a mother to her little brothers. This photo is Pearl wearing her mother’s watch in 1902.

About 1906, Pearl fell in love with a local man; however, her father needed a mother for the boys, so he moved the family from Illinois to Oklahoma. This separation was something Pearl went along with in respect for her father. 

In 1914, Pearl was 28 and married Dow Bray, who was a railroad fireman. After 18 months of marriage, Dow was killed when the passenger train he was on collided with another train near Joplin, Missouri.

In 1917, Pearl married my grandfather, and the next year Pearl gave birth to my father, but tragically—Kyle, who she had raised from age six, was killed in action in France on 10 Oct 1918—just the week before my father was born. 

In 1942, her older brother died from mysterious reasons, and while she was dealing with clearing out his home in Oregon—Pearl and my grandfather received word that their only child, my father, was missing in action in WWII. This news caused my grandfather to have a massive stroke, and Pearl was left to care for my grandfather, who died three years later. 

After all of these tragedies, she cared for me while my mother worked. She kept a rooming house for people that had family in the large hospital across the street. She kept a smile on her face and sang hymns while I helped her make beds and clean rooms. She taught me at least 50 nursery rhymes, Bible verses, and several poems while we laughed and laughed. 

She was the sweetest lady and best role model anyone could ever have. I watched her lead the Gold Star Mother meetings in Oklahoma City and help families that had losses in WWII and Korea. She is buried about a mile from my house with her first husband Dow and my son Mitchell. With the three of them together, I often visit their graves and pray for the strength that I saw in her. 

https://www.wikitree.com/wiki/McCleery-119

by Golden Owl (1.1m points)
edited by Alexis Nelson

I have always admire your paternal grandmother, Pearl McCleery Lovelace she is one of the gorgeous looking lady I  have seen, on different photos thank you for sharing my sweet friend ❤️


Susan, thank you for your sweet comment and your knowing my grandmother through her many photos; she saved so many photos—but I do wish that names were on the back.smileyheart


Alexis I know what you mean my great grandmother has left me lots of photos haven’t got a clue who it is except her dogs  there was both name on

I hope you work it out ❤️

Your grandmother sounds like an amazing lady! Amazing!

What an amazing story of resilience. I wonder if Kyle knew my Uncle, Pvt.  James David Wark Ceruti (Ceruti-24), who also died in France on  at age 23 in WW I.


Debra, thank you for your lovely comment. I was very fortunate to have Pearl for my grandmother. She was always a wonderful part of my life, and I am surrounded with the many she left me. I sleep in the very bed that my mother and I slept in at her rooming house.

Marion, thank you for your comment. I looked at the wonderful profile you did for your uncle, Pvt. James David Wark Ceruti. Both he and Kyle are buried in France; so sad to think about how young they were when they were killed—and their families so far away.

+9 votes
My Dad's biological father was an alcoholic, didn't always work, and was abusive my grandmother but also the children. My grandmother in an effort to protect them regularly sent the kids to stay with her siblings. By 1924 Dad (b. 1915)  and his younger sister (b. 1918) and brother (b. 1922) were sent by their mother to an orphanage that was 132 miles away when my grandmother filed for divorce.  

In 1927, Grandma remarried and Dad came back to live with them. The man I knew as my grandpa ran a small hotel and cafe in the small town Dad was born in so the family lived the hotel. Since it was "a family business" Dad had to do chores like sweep and mop the lobby before going to school, do "wake-up" calls for hotel guest, or work the counter in the cafe. At 14 years old Dad started driving a taxi after school. Luckily his step father treated Dad and his siblings like they were his own children.

Dad was drafted for WWII. He trained as a radar mechanic in the service and was sent to England in 1943. He was in the 413th AAA Gun Battalion that landed on Omaha Beach, Fox Red section at 2 am June 7 1944. Sometime during his service in WWII, a shell exploded near enough to the radar unit he was standing outside of that it ruptured both his ear drums causing him to have to using a hearing aid by his 40's.

After my sister was born, Dad tried to make contact with his biological father at his paternal aunt's home but his father refused to see him (but he did allow Dad's aunt to bring the baby in to see).

Dad a conscious effort to not be like his biological father. If he got extremely angry he would leave the house (slamming the door) and walk until his temper cooled. After all Dad when through in his life, he didn't dwell on past. My sister described it as Dad put those bad memories in a box, tape the box closed, and put them on a shelf at the back of a closet. He would talk about the "funny" things that happened and laugh.
by Owl (30.9k points)

My parents were alcoholics. I made sure to "walk off" anger issues. My mother could tear you apart with her words. I heard myself doing that once to my boyfriend in high school and learned to pay attention to myself.

+6 votes

My 4x great grandfather, John Cushier (Cushier-3) was born about 1768, presumably in France, to an aristocratic family. As the story goes, at the age of 8, he was taken to sea by his uncle, the commander of a French war vessel so he would become familiar with his future profession.

Although the manner of the commander's death was unspecified, one can surmise that given the circumstances, it was during or shortly after a naval battle, during which John's uncle may have been wounded. The English captured the vessel and John's uncle died "before reaching England," which implies that the ship's commander, John's uncle, may have been taken as a prisoner of war. In any case, John was found off the coast of England in an open boat with a servant in livery, presumably attempting to escape the crossfire.

Fortunately, John survived and was adopted by some kind people of refinement in Woolwich, who brought him up and apprenticed him to learn the shipbuilding business in the Woolwich Dockyard. John described his birth mother as tall and stately. He spoke of his birth father's spacious wine cellar, where he used to draw light wines in a silver cup. While in France, the young John enjoyed pony rides, also accompanied by a servant in livery.

John was described as an intelligent boy, reserved and industrious, with a keen sense of humor. As a young man, he was thrifty and saved money, which he earned through promotions in his position in H. M. Dockyard, Woolwich. When he completed his apprenticeship, he intended to return to France to find his parents, brother, and former home. He advertised several times but after having received no news of his birth family, he decided to go to France to continue the search in person.
However,  again, he was taken captive, this time by the charms of an exceptional English lady named "Miss Jane Smith." This being the case, he decided to remain in England, and canceled his plan to return to France.
The young couple was married after a while and spent the rest of their lives in Woolwich, England, where they were reported to have enjoyed the respect of all who knew them. This is a story of resilience and how an intelligent boy bounce back after the awful tragedy that may have wiped out his family in the French revolution. John went on to a successful career and marriage in spite of his harrowing near-death experience. The moral of the story is that it was better for John to have lost his heart to an English beauty, than to have lost his head to a French blade.

by Owl (468k points)

+8 votes

There are thousands of stories of Acadian resilience, but few as striking as that of Marie Blanche Leblanc, my second cousin 6 times removed. She is believed to have suffered the most expulsions, four in total, at the hands of the British between 1755 and 1794.

Her ordeal began in 1755, when she was deported from Acadie to South Carolina during the Grand Dérangement. Uprooted from her home and forced into a foreign land, she endured disease, loss, and disconnection. She managed to return north, only to be deported again in 1758 from Île Saint-Jean (now Prince Edward Island) to France, after the fall of Louisbourg.

Life in France offered little comfort, but she remained determined. In time, she joined the Acadian community in Saint-Pierre et Miquelon, seeking stability. Yet in 1778, she was deported once more to France during the American Revolutionary War. And finally, in 1794, she was exiled again, from Saint-Pierre et Miquelon to Boston, her fourth forced relocation.

Over four decades, Marie Blanche crossed the Atlantic multiple times, endured displacement, poverty, and loss, but never gave up. Her footsteps remind us that survival itself can be an act of resistance. And that, even in exile, identity can endure.

by Owl (106k points)

+6 votes
One person of the baby boom generation was born and started to be raised by her mother (age 21) and grandmother for several months. It didn't work. She became a ward of the state, in foster care. Later adopted by a family who wanted a worker. They already had their own biological children. They were very needy due to illness and disability and inability to love someone else's child. She had to move out at age 17 because they were charging her about 300% of what it cost to rent a room elsewhere. She became a successful professional after another twenty years of saving money for college. Very resillient person.
by G2G-7 (7.0k points)

+6 votes
My great great grandfather, William Augustus Jodon, was 1 when his father committed suicide.  Then at age 19 he was playing with guns with a friend and accidently shot and killed that friend.  Later in life he became a Lay Preacher, Sunday School Superintendent and was among the early settlers in Little River, Kansas.
by Newt (380 points)

+6 votes
My grandfather, Lacy Johnson Barbe, returned from the War Between the States to find that his wife had died, his home and business had burned, and his children were divided between the neighbors. He married the woman his first wife had picked for him when she realized she was dying. He worked briefly for others, then found a man who owed him money but had none and accepted steep, wooded, mountain land for the debt. His oldest son died in a logging accident. Despite these setbacks he lived to be 88 years old and was highly respected.

 Robert Barbe
by G2G-4 (4.5k points)

+6 votes
My 4th Great GrandfatherDaniel Curstead aka Daniel Cursted aka Daniel Custard lived to the age of 91. My grandfather Glenn Lohri Custard lived to the age of 98. My Grandfather V. Tracy Moffit was 94 when he died, My dad Capt Randal D. Custard fought in the Vietnam War. He was involved in the Raid on SonTay Prison camp. He was the co pilot of Cherry One a MC 130E Combat Talon. Cherry One flew at tree top level for a 1000 mile to Son Tay Prison Camp and another 1000 mile back to base. Dad received the Silver Star for his part in the operation.
by Newt (690 points)

+5 votes

I have always found my 2-x great-grandmother, Mary Ann (Hayes) Wright the perfect example of resilience:

  • orphaned by the Irish Potato Famine as a child
  • found as an II-year-old vagrant on the streets of Cork in 1847 and placed in a workhouse
  • shipped to South Australia in 1849 as part of the Earl Grey Scheme to be a domestic servant
  • married husband number 1 in 1855, only for him to die 5 years later
  • Had a posthumous child from her first husband 5 months after his death
  • became reliant on the Destitute Board to feed her children
  • married husband number 2 in 1861, only for him to die 6 years later in a mining accident
  • left the state with her children when they had become adults in 1886
  • died at age 76 in 1912.
Not an easy life, however she managed to have some peace in the later part of her life. Inspired by her story, some descendants have placed a plaque on her grave location since her death. 
by G2G-2 (2.8k points)

+4 votes
My Paternal Grandmother, Christine (Woelfle) Tipton with her five month old son were the sole survivors of their car plunging from a bridge and into the swollen Arkansas River in Buena Vista, Colorado on July 19, 1924.

They were driving from their home in Florence, Colo. to Buena Vista to visit relatives.

Mrs. Tipton, the wife and mother, was dangerously injured.  An infant escaped unhurt.  The mother and baby were thrown clear of the car.  Three of the children were pinned beneath the machine.  The water is about six feet deep at the point where the accident occurred.

          Mrs. Tipton said a radius rod broke when they were nearing Buena Vista.  Her husband was driving.  The rod was repaired with wire.  The fatal accident occurred a short time afterwards.

          Hurled from the high bridge the occupants of the car had little chance for life.  Mrs. Tipton did not lose consciousness but found herself in the relentless grip of the stress, half drowned.  Some side current pulled her toward the shore and, after dashing her against the rocks for a distance of 100 feet, threw her into shallow water where she could drag herself to the bank.

          Exhausted and holding a five-month old baby in her arms, the woman was unable to move for half an hour.  Despite her severe injuries she started a weary struggle to reach the road.  She managed to make the ascent and then half crawled, half dragged herself to the nearest house.  The people were asleep and she was forced to beat on the door for several moments.

          When they opened the door the residents of the house saw the body of a woman fall across the threshold.  Her face and body were bruised and battered and her clothes had been practically torn of by the force of the water and her desperate struggle to reach aid.

          It was 15 minutes before she was able to tell her story.  Members of the household then were dispatched for aid and within half an hour a large group of men were working to rescue the bodies of the other occupants of the car.  Three bodies were found Saturday morning several hundred feet from the bridge, but those of Billy and Katherine (sic) Tipton had not been recovered at a late hour.

          Physicians declared Mrs. Tipton’s condition as critical.  The Tipton baby, however, showed no effects of the tragedy.  The mother’s arms had protected it from both the waters of the stress and the rocks.

From “The Pueblo Chieftain”
Sunday, July 20, 1924

The dead:
Byron Tipton, 36
Miss Ruth Skels, 26
Billy Tipton, 10
Cathlaine, 6 (Cathleine)
Jack, 4

After the accident Christine gave her son Stanley to her sister for care.  A year and a half later when she married my Grandfather, Richard Trevithick, she asked for the return of Stanley.  She was refused.

Together, Grandpa and Grandma drove from Pueblo, Colorado to Weston, Wyoming  to get Stanley by whatever means necessary.  Arriving at Stanley's school, they waited for recess.  When they saw Stanley come out with the other children they went onto the school grounds and took Stanley with them.

The abduction was reported to the Police, and Grandpa was arrested for Kidnapping.  Later, in Court the Judge listened to the arguments of both parties, Grandma and her sister.  After some deliberation, the Judge awarded Stanley to his biological Mother, my Grandma.

When Grandma gave birth to my father, "Art", Stanley had a new brother.

When World War II was declared, Grandpa, Uncle Stan, and Art all joined the Navy; my Grandfather for his second World War!  Grandpa's Naval Schooling was long enough that she joined Grandpa in Bayview, Idaho.

My memories of Grandma are special, she loved all of her grandchildren, would cook animal shaped pancakes, and made fabulous Poteca, a sweet dessert bread that is fantastic.  Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners were a feast.

 I remember asking her one time who the pictures of the young children were that hung on her bedroom wall.  She replied "my children".  I had no idea at the time, and now I wish I had asked her about them hearing her story from her perspective.
by G2G-10 (12.4k points)

0 votes
My maternal great grandparents left Lithuania before it became a republic in 1918.

Late Auntie Annie Levin Nay related stories of "Indians" in little boats, taking them under the radar.  A relative was married in England.

The family heard of freehold farms being offered in Canada, and off they went. It was like Siberia when they arrived and many people perished in the harsh winter. There was nothing there but snow when they arrived.

My Grandfather was nicknamed CANADA as he was born in Canada, 2 were born in Russia.
Some family and others then went to South Africa by boat.

Due to a measles outbreak on board, the ship was quarantined in Table Bay, Cape Town, South Africa for 3 months.

My mother's mother's family were Irish.
I don't have the info on their reason for fleeing from Ireland.  There were potato famines and Indentured Servants.

She converted from Catholic to Judaism to marry my grandfather.

The generational twists or karma have continued down the generations and hopefully will stop now.
by G2G-10 (13.6k points)

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