Family Skeletons

Alfred Hickman with his mother Ethel Hickman Hadfield and her sister Grace Hickman Weaver; behind Ethel is her husband (and my grandfather) George Hadfield and Grace's husband H. Ralph Weaver. The child is my aunt Grace Hadfield Tinder Wagner.  Photo taken 1916 in Downingtown, Pennsylvania

Yesterday I received a letter from my cousin.  I know what is in the letter. I choose not to read it.  

Two weeks ago I received a letter from her in which she requested that I remove the information about our maternal grandmother that I had posted on Ancestry.com.  I wrote her back telling her the reason I had to turn down her request. I'm pretty sure the letter she wrote back to me is either chastising me for refusing her request or disowning me. Either scenario is not one I wish to engage in at this time.  Thus, that letter from my cousin will remain unopened indefinitely.

Now that I have you intrigued as to what is the subject of my cousin's consternation, I will now divulge the family skeleton I discovered whilst doing my family research.

After I left my job at First Fidelity Bank in Philadelphia, and had a period of unemployment, I began a log postponed project of researching my family tree.  I began with my paternal Tipton relatives. I got very involved and unearthed a lot of family history and a few skeletons.  

My Mother observed with interest my total involvement with my paternal family history and wistfully said "I guess you're not interested in my family history." She had a point, I had done very little research on my maternal family tree.  I told her "I will research the Hadfield's too."   She said "While you're at it, could you find out who Uncle Afred was?  Every time his name came up every one would clam up. There was something strange about him that no one wanted me to know."  

My Mother told me that Alfred Hickman was raised at her mother's (my grandmother) brother. But she doubted that he was her brother. 

My grandmother, Ethel Hickman Hadfield

Alfred Hickman was born in 1911, when my grandmother was fifteen years old.  Alfred died in 1922, at eleven years of age of diphtheria. My Mother was born in 1923.  She said Alfred was always a "mystery."  

I started my research on uncle Alfred by asking my Mother's older sister "who was Alfred Hickman?"  My Aunt Grace, who was slipping into dementia at that time and would die a few months later said "Oh!! Uncle Alfred!  We DON'T talk about him!"  Upon further questioning, she told me that Alfred was indeed my grandmother's son born out of wedlock and raised as her brother.

Now to prove this fact.  I got Alfred's death certificate from Ancestry.com.  His death certificate listed my great grandparents as his parents. 

Alfred Hickman 1911-1922 photo taken 1916

I decided to get Alfred's birth certificate. That was no easy task that I was to discover. I wrote to the Pennsylvania Department of records. They responded back to me that only direct descendants (children) could obtain his death certificate. Since Alfred died at eleven years old he had no children. I wrote back to the Pennsylvania Department of records and explained that Alfred didn't have any children because he died at eleven years old and that I was his great nephew. They sent me his birth certificate. When I read his birth certificate I discovered a different name listed as Alfred's father. The name listed was Harold Griffith Sutton.  Ah ha, the family skeleton was exposed.

Harold Sutton was eighteen years old at the time of Alfred's birth. My grandmother was fifteen years old. Both worked at the Lloyd estate in Downingtown, Pennsylvania. My grandmother was listed as a "governess" which is the same as a baby sitter. Harold was a gardener at the Lloyd estate. I think you can figure out what happened here. In 1911 a birth out of wedlock was a scandal. In fact when I graduated from high school in 1959 such a birth was also a scandal, that's why one of my classmates didn't graduate with us, she was pregnant. 

I posted this correct information to my family tree which I maintain on Ancestry.com. I told my cousin that I had discovered this information about  our grandmother. She advised me not to post the information to our family tree.  She said "grandmother would have wanted it that way."  Uh, really?  All the parties involved are long dead. My grandmother died in 1923 at the age of 29 years old from complications from an incomplete abortion. Yes, another "skeleton" I discovered about my grandmother which will be the subject of a future blog post.  Harold Sutton lived a long life and died in 1983 at age of eighty-nine years of age. He married in 1919 to a woman named Sarah and they produced six children. Harold was a college professor who lived his life in Connecticut. I don't know if he family knew about his love child, Alfred Hickman. But they probably will now since I have posted the Truth to the Internet.  My grandmother married my grandfather in 1915. They had five children (my Mother being the youngest) before my grandmother died in 1923 from her incomplete abortion. My Mother was a motherless before she was two years old because of a decision my grandmother made.

Now, some may agree with my cousin that I keep this information about my grandmother a secret forever.  I cannot do that.  I will not lie about my grandmother.  I will not lie about my uncle Alfred. His memory deserves the truth of who his real father was. I will not participate in perpetuating a lie. 

We all make decisions in life. My cousin suggested that perhaps our grandmother was raped. How does she know that?  Still, history deserves to know the truth. 

My maternal grandparents 1921 - my grandmother was pregnant with my mother,  she is hiding her pregnancy behind her oldest child Grace

My Mother at the Birmingham-Lafayette Quaker cemetery in West Chester PA at the grave of her grandparents William and Esther Hickman - the small headstone flush with the ground at her bottom left is of Alfred Hickman, her uncle who was raised as her mother's brother by William and Esther Hickman.  Bill is in the background in the two tone brown jacket.  This photo was taken by me April 7, 2002 when I used to take photos of headstones in cemeteries for my Find a Grave account. At the time I did not know who Alfred Hickman was, he was always a mystery to the family and his secret would not have been known forever until I discovered the Truth.  Alfred will no longer be forgotten.

Randall Leighton Hadfield, Sr.

Randall Leighton Hadfield, Sr. - 1880

January 1867 - 13 May 1944

Randall Leighton Hadfield, Sr. was my maternal great grandfather.  He is the young man standing on the right holding at hat.  I do not know the context of this picture.  I received it from my cousin Randy Reynolds after he cleaned out his Mother's personal belongings when his family placed her in a nursing home.  Randy was named after his great grandfather. His mother, Jeanette Hadfield Reynolds is Randall Hadfield's granddaughter.  She was the family keeper of all the old Hadfield pictures.


Do you see a family resemblance between me and my maternal great-grandfather?  I do and others in the family say the same.  The genes pass on down.


My great grandfather was born in January 1867 in Philadelphia to my great-great grandfather Thomas Hadfield and Sarah Leighton, from whom he received his middle name.  Thomas and Sarah Hadfield emigrated from Derbyshire, England by way of Liverpool to the United States on the ship 'Underwriter' through the port of New York CityOctober 28, 1863.  Thomas Hadfield was 25 years old when he arrived in the United States.


I do not remember my great-grandfather because I was only three years old when he died in 1944.  My earliest memory of anything on this earth is when I was four years old in 1945. However, my Mother remembered her grandfather well.  She only remembered him as an 'old man' though and as some of these pictures attest, my great grandfather Randall Hadfield was a very handsome man in his youth.

Randall Leighton Hadfield, Sr. 

abt. 1880

Randall Leighton Hadfield, Sr.

abt. 1885

My cousin Randy told me that the family story was that the rest of the people (or person) was cut out of this picture by Randall's future wife, my great grandmother Belle Donaly.  We don't know the reason why but we suppose there was some kind of animosity involved towards the other person in this picture. Who else was in this picture will be one of those mysteries for the ages I suppose.

Randall Hadfield - about 1890

Quite the dapper young man with the world ahead of him.

Randall Hadfield, Sr. and his family - 1910

(Click on picture to embiggen)

This picture was taken at his father and mother's 50th wedding anniversary celebration

Randall is with his wife, my grandfather, George Lincoln Hadfield (the tall 14 year old boy standing by his right shoulder) and the rest of his family, including Randall Hadfield, Jr, sitting on his knee

Randall and Belle Hadfield abt 1942

This picture was taken on the porch of their last home on Chestnut Street in Downingtown, Pennsylvania bout 1942.  Sitting on my great-grandmother's lap is my cousin (once removed) Sandy Hadfield, the daughter (and only child) of Randall Hadfield, Jr. Randall Hadfield died in this house two years later.  

Aren't these old pictures great!  I have more to post.  I wish I had a lot more though!

Another Gray Day

Here we are at Monday and another gray day in January. Oh how I long for the sunny days of spring and summer. Last year we had many good sunny days. Actually there were too many sunny days. We had a drought which wasn’t good for the local farmers growing corn and soybeans.

Looking out the window now I see snowflakes! The snowflakes fall gently to the ground. They are beautiful. However, I hope we miss the big snow storm again like we have so far this winter. Pennsylvania needs this snow a lot more than we do here in Slower Lower with our wind swept coastal plains that don’t hold snow more than a day. Please!

This morning I opened an e-mail from a friend of mine showing his two beautiful Shetland collies romping in his Cranberry Township (near Pittsburgh) back yard. Well, they like it! I’m happy for them. I would rather look at pictures of people and animals in the snow that experience it myself. As they say, “Been there, done that!” His dogs are lovely though.

Yesterday my cousin called to tell me that her mother (and my aunt) is in the hospital with pneumonia. I was hoping to get up to Pennsylvania and take my Mother to visit her older sister before something like this happened. My aunt turned 90 years old March 18th of last year. I will always remember the one summer I spent at her home with my Uncle George and my cousins Elaine and George, Jr. They lived near the Capital Bakery. My fondest memory of that summer was the smell of baking bread and my Aunt Jeanette’s invasion of Japanese beetles on her rose bushes. I have a special fondness for my Aunt Jeanette as well as her older sister Grace. Both of them looked like my Mother and had similar personalities. It was like I had three Mothers. Their brother and my Uncle George, was also special to me. My grandfather did something right in raising such wonderful, exceptional people. I would like to think that the best part of me I inherited from my Hadfield relatives.

It’s back to work today after a sad weekend here. Bill is still holed up in his room, refusing to come out. No matter how many times this never gets easier.

Last night I thought I would watch one of my movies that I rented from Netflix. The movie was “A Love To Hide.” This was perhaps the worst movie to watch during these sad times. I got as far as the stone quarry scene and I couldn’t take anymore. Not that the movie wasn’t well done (it was, despite some uneven spots) and had an important message. It was and did. The problem I have is watching violence. Sure, this was “just a movie” and the violence wasn’t really happening but I knew that it DID HAPPEN. I can’t take it. I literally cannot watch it. I will faint. I guess I’m a certified pussy. The movie goes back today. I’ll have to check my Netflix que. I need a Will Ferrell comedy. I need to rent a movie so incredibly stupid that it will take my mind off of these gray days and all the other woes in this country and world. I know, “Dumb and Dumber.” That will do the trick.

Stay warm.

Find a Grave

Recently, while enmeshed in my Tipton genealogy research, my cousin Tim Tipton from Tennessee told me about the web site Find A Grave.com. I checked it out and now I have a new passion. I've always loved roaming through graveyards, searching for family member headstones. I envy Tim, because he lives in Tennessee where there are literally thousands of Tiptons buried in that area of the country. Here in Pennsylvania, I have a much more limited number of Tiptons. However, I also have many members of my Mother's side of my family, the Hadfields, Hickmans, and Weavers. Now that I'm living in Delaware, my search for family members is severely limited. I doubt if I can find any of my family in the area where I live, Sussex County, Delaware. I've checked the phone book and I see where there are some Tiptons. I'll have to give them a call and find out if any of them know of their ancestors. That is another field of genealogy research that I have to plow. I get not a small amount of pleasure knowing that I have that task that I can look forward to doing in the future. After my father's death in 2000, I purchased my grave plot at the Northwood Cemetery in Downingtown, Pennsylvania. At one time in my life I had decided to be cremated. However, since discovering the richness of history in researching my family history through grave yard searches, I decided that I didn't want to disappear from history when I died. I selected a plot on the side of a hill overlooking the valley that the town of Downingtown, Pennsylvania is located. As my Mother has said, you always want a grave site with a good view.