Upper Level: George Spooner 1818 - Hannah Randall 1813-1894

Thursday, March 26, 2009

George Spooner 1818 - Hannah Randall 1813-1894

4th Great Grandfather

George Spooner
Parents: John Spooner and Grace Mitchell
Born about 1818 Newbold, Derby, England
Christening: 1 Nov 1818 Chesterfield, Derbyshire, England

George Spooner's Christening record

Occupation: Coal Miner (1841, 1851, 1861)

Married Hannah Randall 2 Aug 1841 Saint Peter, Old Brampton, Derby, England

A closeup of George's signature
on marriage record

George and Hannah's marriage record

Died England
Buried England
Sources
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints Church Membership Records

England Births and Christenings: Chesterfield Parish Register Baptisms (Christenings), 1813-1821, Image #415

1841 UK Census Chesterfield, Derby, England page 21 (age 20, single)
Note: living with Samuel Brown family
1851 UK Speedwell Row #13, Census Chesterfield, Derby, England (age 32, married)
1861 UK Census Salter Gate, Chesterfield, Derby, England (age 42)

Note: Surname spelled Sponer in record
Marriage: IGI Film 1041028 Batch M048364 dated 1837-1898

4th Great Grandmother

Hannah Randall
Parents: Sarah Randall
Note: her biological father was likely George Lees
Born: 13 May 1813 Nottingham, England (illegitimate)
Christening: 6 June 1815 Mansfield, Nottinghamshire, England and 10 Sep 1813 in Brampton, Derbyshire

Hannah's first christening record in Mansfield, Nottinghamshire

2nd Christening record for Hannah - in Brampton, Derbyshire.
Note that her mother is listed as a Single woman

Immigrated to United States aboard the ship "John Bright" on 14 July 1868 from Liverpool, England to New York
Died: 23 Jun 1894 Mendon, Cache, Utah

Obituary for Hannah

Buried: Mendon City Cemetery, Mendon, Cache, Utah, Lot 3

Hannah's headstone
Note: there was no marker in 2009
but a headstone was added by 2017

Sources:
1851 UK Census Speedwell Row #13, Chesterfield, Derby, England (age 35, married)
1861 UK Census Chesterfield, Derby, England (age 45)
1880 US Census Mendon, Cache, Utah (Age 65, widow)
Birth and Burial: (Online) Mendon Cemetery Index
Note: The cemetery index gives her father's name as George Spooner and her mother as Sarah, but this is not correct as her father on LDS records is given as George Lees.
LDS Ward Records of Mendon, Utah
Note: on LDS ward records her father is listed as George Spooner. Perhaps when asked, she just gave her father's name as George (which seems to indicate that George Lees is indeed her father) and the clerk must have assumed the surname was Spooner. At one time she was listed as 'cut off' (excommunicated) from the LDS church at her own request - hence the obituary mentioning she died in full fellowship meaning she had been re-baptized in Utah in the SLC 17th ward.
Vol 40 Of LDS Members of 1830-1848
Mendon Cemetery Index
Obituary: "The Latter-day Saints Millennial Star", Monday, November 26, 1894 issue, volume 56, page 768. Available on Google Books
Headstone: https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/90665034/hannah-spooner

CHILDREN

Mary Spooner
Born abt 1837 Birley, Derby, England

2022 Note: on Family Search, someone has indicated that she is Mary Jane Gardener Randall Spooner. There is a christening that seems to indicate that a Hannah Randall had a daughter in 1836 and that the biological father was George Gardener - whom Hannah never married - and George Spooner is claimed as her stepfather.

This problem is complicated, people, and the things I've seen so far are not completely conclusive. The biggest problem I have right now, is that her obit claims she came from London instead of Derbyshire to the United States in 1869 (six years after her sister) and lived in Pennsylvania for 8 years. I hope someone has an explanation for these oddities.
Sources
1851 UK Census Speedwell Row #13, Chesterfield, Derby, England (age 14)

3rd Great Grandmother

Maria Spooner
Born 22 Mar 1846 Chesterfield, Derby, England

Maria Spooner Telford
Note: had to make a correction,
the earlier picture posted was of her daughter, Maria

Immigrated to Utah in 1863 with an unknown company
Married: Robert Telford 18 Jun 1864 Salt Lake City, Salt Lake, Utah
Children: Robert, George, Maria, John, William, Alexander, Charles
Died 4 Aug 1904 Bountiful, Davis, Utah
Buried: Bountiful Cemetery, Bountiful, Davis, Utah
Sources
Utah Death Certificate
1851 UK Census Speedwell Row #13, Chesterfield, Derby, England (age 5)
1880 US Census for Bountiful, Davis, Utah (age 34, widowed, her mother-in-law is also living with her)
1900 US Census for Bountiful, Davis, Utah (widowed)

Immigration link: https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:QK9B-Z8RF

Headstone: http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GRid=68723660
Note: the small metal plaque on the right side above Eli's name indicates the person is considered a Utah pioneer and was placed by a member of the Daughters of the Utah Pioneers.

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From a Funeral Program

When I come to the end of the road

And the sun has set for me

I want no rites in a gloom-filled room

Why cry for a soul set free?

Miss me a little - but not for too long

And not with your head bowed low

Remember the love that we once shared

Miss me, but let me go.

For this is a journey that we all must take

And each must go alone

It's all part of the Master's plan

A step on the road to home.

When you are lonely and sick at heart

Go to the hills we know

And bury your sorrow among the trees

Miss me, but let me go.

The Line

Every minute someone leaves this world behind.
We are all in “the line” without knowing it.
We never know how many people are before us.
We can not move to the back of the line.
We can not step out of the line.
We can not avoid the line.

So while we wait in line -

Make moments count.
Make priorities.
Make the time.
Make your gifts known.
Make a nobody feel like a somebody.
Make your voice heard.
Make the small things big.
Make someone smile.
Make the change.
Make love.
Make up.
Make peace.
Make sure to tell your people they are loved.
Make sure to have no regrets.
Make sure you are ready.

I'm My Own Grandpa

Many, many years ago when I was 23,
I got married to a widow
who was as pretty as could be.
She had a grown up daughter
who had a hair of red.
My father fell in love with her
and soon the two were wed.
This made my dad my son-in-law
And changed my very life.
My daughter was my mother,
for she was my father's wife.
To complicate the matters worse,
although it brought me joy,
I soon became the father
of a bouncing baby boy.
My little baby then became a brother -in-law to dad
and so became my uncle though it made me very sad.
For if he was my uncle,
then that also made him brother to the widow's grown-up- daughter,
who of course, was my stepmother.
Father's wife then had a son,
who kept them on the run.
And he became my grandson, for he was my daughter's son.
My wife is now my mother's mother
and it makes me blue.
Because, although she is my wife,
she's my grandma too.
If my wife is my grandmother,
then I am her grandchild.
and every time I think of it,
it simply makes me wild.
For now I have become the strangest case you ever saw.
As the husband of my grandmother,
I am my own grandpa!

Quotes from the Prophets

President Gordon B Hinckley: "It is good to look to the past to gain appreciation for the present and perspective for the future. It is good to look upon the virtues of those who have gone before, to gain strength for whatever lies ahead. It is good to reflect upon the work of those who labored so hard and gained so little in this world, but out of whose dreams and early plans so well nurtured, has come a great harvest of which we are the beneficiaries. Their tremendous example can become a compelling motivation for us all, for each of us is a pioneer in his own life."

President Spencer W Kimball: "I hope to see us dissolve the artificial boundary line we so often place between missionary work and temple and genealogical work, because it is the same great redemptive work!"

President Joseph Fielding Smith: " The responsibility on behalf of our kindred dead rests with equal force on all, according to our individual ability and opportunities...the greatest and grandest duty of all is to labor for the dead."

The Passing of the Pot (Chamber Pot)

As far back in childhood
As memory may go
One household vessel greets me
That wasn't made for show
Beneath the bed twas anchored
Where only few could see
But served the entire family
With equal privacy
Some called the critter Peggy
And some the thundermug
And others called it badger
A few called it jug
To bring it in at evening
Was bad enough no doubt
But heaven help the person
Who had to take it out
Our big one was enormous
And would accomodate
A watermelon party
Composed of six or eight
When nights were dark and rainy
It was a useful urn
On icy winter mornings
The cold rim seemed to burn
At times when things were rushing
And business extra good
Each took his turn a waiting
Or did the best he could
Sometimes when in a hurry
To our disgust and shame
We fumbled in the darkness
And slightly missed our aim
The special one for company
Was decorated well
But just the same it rendered
That old familiar smell
Today this modernism
Relieves me a lot
And only in my vision
I see that homely pot.
(author unknown)

Poem about ancestors

Though steep is the path I follow today,
The footprints of time will show me the way.
For many have traveled a smiliar road,
And carried an equal of heavier load.

No troubles I face are new to this earth,
That man has not faced from time of his birth.
The route has been charted and roads have been paved
By legions before me who were stalwart and brave.

Their steps never faltered nor courage grew dim,
For they trusted the Lord and let Him led them.
If my faith and my trust remain steadfast and true,
God will guide and protect me in all that I do.
- Dolores Karides

The Elusive Ancestor

I went searching for an ancestor.
I cannot find him still.
He moved around from place to place
and did not leave a will.
He married where a courthouse burned.
He mended all his fences.
He avoided any man who came to
take the US census

He always kept his luggage packed,
This man who had no fame,
and every 20 years or so,
This rascal changed his name.
No one else inthis world is
searching for this elusive man,
so I play "Gene-solitaire"
To find him, if I can!

I'm told he's buried in a plot,
with tombstone he was blessed;
but the weather took engravings,
and some vandals took the rest.
He died before the county clerks
were appointed to keep records
No family Bible has emerged -
In spite of all my efforts.

To top it off, this elusive ancestor
who has caused me many groans -
left me even one more challenge:
He brothed a lady,
by the name of "Jones"!
(Got this from a publication
put out by the DUP organization
that names the author: Merrell Kenworthy)

Poem: Heaven's Door

If I should go before you,

If life on earth were through;

I'll stop just inside Heaven's door,

and there I'll wait for you.

You've but to look 'cross star filled skies,

Past the moon and then beyond;

To know my leaving could never break,

This heart's undying bond.

And if you should go before me,

If your journey on earth were through;

You know I will be close behind,

I'll never be far from you.

Across the span of time and space,

This love will reach this far;

For you'll always carry a bit of my heart,

No matter where you are.

Allison Chambers Coxsey©1995 ~ All Rights Reserved

Which Shall It Be? by Adelaide Proctor

Which shall it be?

"Which shall it be? Which shall it be?
I looked at John and John looked at me,
And when I found that I must speak,
My voice seemed strangely low and weak:
˜Tell me again what Robert said,"
And then I, listening, bent my head.
This is his letter:˜I will give
A house and land while you shall live,
If, in return, from out your seven,
One child to me for aye is given."

I looked at John's old garments worn;
I thought of all that he had borne
Of poverty, and work, and care,
Which I, though willing, could not share;
I thought of seven young mouths to feed,
Of seven little children's need,
And then of this.

˜Come, John,said I,
We'll choose among them as they lie
Asleep. So, walking hand in hand,
Dear John and I surveyed our band:
First to the cradle lightly stepped,
Where Lilian, the baby, slept.
Softly the father stooped to lay
His rough hand down in a loving way,
When dream or whisper made her stir,
And huskily he said: ˜Not her!"

We stooped beside the trundle bed,
And one long ray of twilight shed
Athwart the boyish faces there,
In sleep so beautiful and fair;
I saw on James rough, red cheek
A tear undried. E'er John could speak,
He's but a baby, too," said I,
And kissed him as we hurried by.

Pale, patient, Robbie's angel face
Still in his sleep bore suffering's trace.
˜No, for a thousand crowns, not him!"
He whispered, while our eyes were dim.
Poor Dick! bad Dick! our wayward son”
Turbulent, restless, idle one”
Could he be spared?
Nay, He who gave
Bade us befriend him to the grave;
Only a mother's heart could be
Patient enough for such as he;
˜And so," said John, ˜I would not dare
To take him from her bedside prayer."

Then stole we softly up above,
And knelt by Mary, child of love;
˜Perhaps for her ˜twould better be,"
I said to John. Quite silently
He lifted up a curl that lay
Across her cheek in a wilful way,
And shook his head: ˜Nay, love, not thee,
The while my heart beat audibly.

Only one more, our eldest lad,
Trusty and truthful, good and glad,
So like his father. ˜No, John, no!
I cannot, will not, let him go."

And so we wrote, in courteous way,
We could not give one child away;
And afterward toil lighter seemed,
Thinking of that of which we dreamed,
Happy in truth that not one face
Was missed from its accustomed place;
Thankful to work for all the seven,
Trusting the rest to One in heaven."

Thursday, March 26, 2009

George Spooner 1818 - Hannah Randall 1813-1894

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