A Name is a Name is a Name

One of the things I have struggled with was why in the hell did my family only use about 10 different names for generation after generation after generation.  Were we really that unoriginal?  It's really difficult to keep my people straight in my head.  So I did a little research on surnames and naming patterns. I am not talking about surnames -- the last name that identifies us to a family group, but our first names or given names, the names given to us at birth.  I can understand a little now of how the names came into my immediate family.

My brother is Donald Duane Drake Jr.  My dad's name, of course, was Donald Duane Drake -- and everybody in the family, but my mother called him Duane.  My dad's dad's name was Donald Dee Drake.  My brother being named after my Dad and hence his dad -- the Donald was already taken when the second male grandchild came around.  He was named Dee or our grandfather's middle name.

My name is Martha Ellen.  My mom's mom was Illda Martha, her mom Minnie Martha and HER Mom was Martha.  But also, my dad's sister was Martha Jane and he loved her more than anyone on the planet.  I'm pretty sure I was named Martha to honor her and it was just luck that Martha was also my mom's mom's middle name.  I still don't know about the Ellen part of my name.  My dad's step mother's name was Ellen and I don't think he cared much for her at all.  Maybe Ellen just sounded good with Martha.

Anyways -- I've done a little research on naming practices and I came across "The Old Jones Naming Pattern."  According to Charlotte West Dade on her blog here:  http://www.ebay.com/itm/31-X-60-James-Thompson-Duck-Canvas-Cloth-Fabric-BROWN-NUTMEG-100-Cotton-/171020477861?pt=US_Fabric&hash=item27d19d65a5 The Old Jones Naming Pattern is also referred to as an American Naming Pattern.  It goes as follows:

THE BOYS:

The first son is named after the father's father

The second son is named after the mother's father.

The third son is named after the father himself.

The fourth through to the last son is named after a favorite brother or a friend (usually of the father). 

THE GIRLS:

The first daughter is named after the mother's mother.

The second daughter is named after the father's mother.

The third daughter is named after the mother herself.

The fourth through the last daughter is named after a favorite sister or friend (usually of the mother's).

And my own children?  My husband came home from the service and said that he loved the name Jessica and that he would name his first Jessica.  After making sure there were no ex-girlfriends named Jessica I agreed, even though I wanted a Maggie or a Courtney.  Jessica Margaret just never sounded right, but the more I said Jessica Courtney the more I liked it.  Nicole was named after my best friend.  Nicki is a cute name but I thought about "Nicki" for a 70 year old dowager and went with Nicole instead.  Lea (pronounced Lee-ah) fit well with it and while she's never been Nicki in this house, she has been NicoLea and Cole.  And sometimes Colby.  One time a boy soccer player asked me why I named my daughter after cheese.  John Jacob?  John for his dad and granddad (the bastard).  Jacob was a friend of the family.  My younger brother married his daughter.  Jacob was a good man to my family after my mom died.  We did it to honor him.  Before we settled on Jacob I double checked with Mike Drake if he wanted to use Jacob as a name if he ever had a son.  Apparently Jake Drake was never an option.

In Memory of Martha Jane Drake Dietz

 Martha Jane Drake Dietz

 Born: 04 Jan 1923

Died:  13 July 1960

 One of the things I love the most about family tree research it the constant ferreting out of clues, using information about one person to find information for another.  Here is my latest discovery -- and I'll let you know my results in the next couple of days.

Martha Jane Drake was my dad's sister.  And not just any sister.  His only sister.  His beloved sister.  The one who took care of him after their mother died and their dad gave them away.  He named his only daughter after her (that would be me).  I didn't know much about her because she died when I was 5 years old.  What I remember about her was that she looked a lot like my dad, Dobbie Drake, and my grandfather, Don Dee Drake, and while that may be handsome in a man, not particularly attractive in a woman.  I know that my dad always acted a little silly when she was around and if any one was the boss of my dad, it was Martha Jane.  And I remember him weeping like a little child when she died.

So I found this funeral card and I have no idea where it came from.

Let me back peddle for a moment -- for 5 years I've been looking for information regarding my grandmother Ruth Henrietta Scovill Drake.  It particularly bothered me that I didn't know where she was buried.  So here's what I'm thinking -- would a beloved sister, a DIVORCED beloved sister, just be shoved in the ground anywhere?  Would you think that they would think that she should be buried near family/with family.  So I'm thinking that maybe the buried her near her mom.  So over the next couple of days, I'm going to check out Highland Cemetery in Ypsilanti, Michigan.

Another thing that bothered me is a man that I found in my mother's and father's address book called Uncle Souse.  I know that we got a Christmas card from him every year, and that my dad would sometimes talk to him "long distance" gasp.  Now I know that my gran Ruth Scovill Drake had a younger brother who went on to be a doctor.  And as you can see there is a Dr. H.A. Scoville as a casket bearer.  In the Federal Censuses, he was listed as Aaron.  It also concerns me that the Scoville is spelled with an E and in my family we are sans E.  I will have to ask my friend Mike Wooden, who was my German teacher in high school and also married to a German gal, if Souse is some sort of endearment.  And Souse is pronounce like Dr. Suess -- not souse like louse.  I also wonder who the 6th pallbearer was -- an Errol Lee.

I have a pretty good memory.  Well, it's more than pretty good.  I'm a damn marvel, and for the life of me I don't remember going to my Aunt Martha Jane's funeral.  I can't imagine that my dad would let that happen.  But after looking at the date she died  -- 13 July 1960 -- explains it.  On June 28, 1960, my mother had given birth to my youngest brother, Scott.  I'm pretty sure she stayed home with the newborn.  Now, I'll need to check with my older brother to see it he went, but I'm pretty sure I was left at home to tote and fetch.

My memories of Martha Jane Drake Dietz are very few.  She was a big woman and she scared me a little.  But what I remember is how much my dad loved her and even as grown adults, my dad and Uncle Jack missed her terribly and they never seemed to get over it.