Should I be a-Mused?

I've been delving into my genealogy using the site FamilySearch.com and have come up with some interesting insights.  For example, my family tree goes all the way back to Adam ben Elohim, son of Elohim and Heavenly Mother.  Eve is listed as having one parent, Adam's Rib. 

While I believe in the Bible and that there was a first couple named Adam and Eve, I'm very skeptical of any family trees giving an unbroken line all the way back to Adam.  I'm also skeptical of family trees containing any royalty unless the lineage is well documented. 

Closer to contemporary times, however, I've found interesting information.  One thing I have learned is that I have several Muses in my ancestry.  There are two jokes you can make about that; one, that I must have many muses for inspiration; two, that I can find things amusing; three, that I can look at people and say, "We are not amused."

Muse is the last name of my great-great grandfather.  His daughter married a Chitwood.  Their son married my grandmother and they, in turn, had my mother.  I don't know very much about my great-great grandfather Muse except names, dates, and locations, but from what I can learn, he seems like he was quite a character. 

For example, he's been known as Christopher C. Muse, C.C. Muse (the name on his marriage record to Nancy Sharp, my great-great grandmother), Christopher Micajah Muse, Micajah Muse, Mack Muse, and Mack C. Muse.  He may also have been known as Cage Muse.

I've discovered two children of his so far; one being my great-grandmother, Mary Etta Muse; the other being her brother, Richard Dow Muse.  According to the information I have, Richard was born in 1876; Etta, in 1881.  Christopher, C.C., whoever he is, and Nancy got married on June 6, 1882, according to the Tennessee State Marriage Index. 

I can't find very much information on Nancy except that she was also married to a man named Blevins and had two other kids with him. 

This branch of my family has roots in Scott County, Tennessee.  Scott County lies just west of I-75, about an hour's drive northwest from Knoxville.  Its name comes from General Winfield Scott, a Mexican War hero (and the county does include a town named Winfield.)  I did a fast Wikipedia search and learned that during the Civil War, Scott County seceded from the state of Tennessee and formed the "Free and Independent State of Scott".  They were a pro-Union enclave during the Civil War.    That proclamation was finally repealed in 1986. 



Reading that story, it makes me think that the people of Scott County had the attitude of, "No one is going to tell US what to do!"  That can be a good thing; it's an attitude that breeds rock-solid convictions and people of integrity who will not be moved no matter what the circumstances. It can also be a bad thing when it breeds stubbornness and sinful pride, and the Bible contains plenty of warnings about sinful pride. 

When Christopher, Micajah, whatever he called himself, decided to refer to himself by various and sundry names, he didn't know that his great-great granddaughter would one day have information at her fingertips that would leave her shaking her head and muttering, "We are not a-Mused." 

On the other hand, it does make me wonder what my great-great grandfather was like and how much the Free State of Scott influenced him! 

Just my .04, adjusted for inflation

Baby Rapp and Bobbie Lee

Between my birthday and Christmas money, I was able to reactivate my Ancestry.com subscription. Since then, I've been poking around and clicking on links, trying to create my family tree with new information.  

I just found a death certificate that blew my mind.  

Actually, I found two death certificates that blew my mind.  

The first one, I discovered when I was tracing my husband's line backwards.  While investigating his grandparents' family, I found a death certificate reading simply, "Baby Rapp."  

I had not known, until that moment, that the first child of my husband's grandparents was a stillborn son.  No name except "Baby Rapp."  No record except on a death certificate issued by the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, Department of Health, Bureau of Vital Statistics, file number 44012.  Date of death, April 9, 1927; time of death, 9:30 a.m., cause of death "stillborn (at term)".  In other words, Baby Rapp was a full-term boy that was born sleeping.  He was buried two days later.  

My mother-in-law was born the next year, the first of four living children.

The other death certificate rewrote a small portion of my own family history.

You see, I'd been under the impression that my maternal grandparents had had a daughter who was stillborn or died right after birth.  I don't know if my grandmother had told me she'd died at birth or exactly how she'd told me the story, but that was how I remembered it.

This morning, while looking up my grandmother's information, I found a link to a Billie Lee Chitwood's death certificate.  I wondered if that was actually Bobbie Lee Chitwood, because this particular daughter was named for my grandmother's father, Robert Lee Thompson.

So, I clicked on the link and found a death certificate, issued by the Commonwealth of Kentucky, State Board of Health, Bureau of Vital Statistics, File No. 27041, Because of the handwriting on the death certificate, "Bobbie Lee" was probably misread as "Billie Lee" when it was transcribed for the Ancestry.com site.

Her date of death was November 13, 1935, around 10:30 p.m.  Cause of death: gastro-enteritis.  Age: Three months, 12 days old.

She didn't die at birth, like I'd always thought.  Instead, she lived with her family from August 1, 1935, until November 13.  And she died of a disease that would probably be easier to treat today but that, in rural Kentucky in 1935, was probably harder to deal with.

My mother was born two years later.  Then, my uncle.  

So now I know that the second child in my grandmother's family was Bobbie Lee, and she died before my mother was even conceived.  And not only did she die, she lived for a little while.  And then, around November 5th, she got sick.  A Dr. Bailey first saw her on November 8th.  Five days later, she was dead.

How do you go on after losing a child?

I now know that my husband's grandparents, and my grandparents, faced that question.  And somehow, they went on.  Because they went on, my mother and my husband's mother were both born.

I find it fascinating how death and life intersect, how just one moment, one decision made, one unforseeable circumstance can change a person's life in ways we can never, ever forsee.

Had Baby Rapp not been born sleeping, his parents probably would not have conceived my mother-in-law.  If Bobbie Lee hadn't died when she did, it's possible that her parents wouldn't have conceived my mother.  It takes one particular egg, one sperm cell, and one particular moment in time to make a child.

So, in reading the account of Baby Rapp and Bobbie Lee, and thinking about when they were born and when they died, I find myself asking the question:  Would my mother and mother-in-law have been born if these two babies had not died?

If they hadn't . . . I probably wouldn't be here writing this.

Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.