Sunday, April 05, 2009

Dorothy Salutes Her Brother

Carnival of Genealogy 70th edition: "Uncle, Uncle"

My mother's brother, my uncle, Evans Stewart, Jr. is not someone I remember because I was a tiny child when he died. He married Henrietta Jones, a widow or divorcee with a young son named Tommy on 11 Nov 1948 in Columbus, Ohio. [source: Stewart family bible] and they lived there until he died by suicide 28 Jan 1951. [source: Ohio Deaths 1908-1953] [Past blog post]

He is buried at Elm Grove Cemetery in Mystic, CT with his parents and his uncle. What happened to his wife and her son is unknown to me. I was quite surprised to find his death certificate at the Family Search [labs beta] and as it says in every genealogy book I have read that when you find something new you usually have to correct dates and spend at least one day re-investigating.

Evans was not born in Westerly, RI as I had assumed. His death certificate clearly says Providence, RI and after working with the Rhode Island City Directories at, I find that my grandparents and my mother did live there but only until 1916. [My mother was born in January 1916 and then they must have moved to Cranston-Providence as my grandfather draft card for WWI dated June 1916 lists him living at 112 Wentworth Ave.]

Evans and my mother were very close in age. Devilishly handsome, he was a popular young man and after high school, he went to Dean Jr. College in Franklin, MA. but on 15 April 1941 he enlisted to serve in WWII. I think that after serving in France (from other photos I have that were taken there), he may have been an Army Recruiter perhaps in Columbus, Ohio. I have many photos of him as a young child and a young man. He looks confident and attractive at my mother's wedding but...

Evans was probably bipolar from the description my mother gave me of the highs-and-lows of his short life. Evans did hold me as a baby and he gave me a lovely baby locket which I still have.

It was very hard on my grandparents and my mother when he died. My mother really needed a sibling and because they were so close in age they must have been like twins. I really know so little about him.

My mother called him, "Brother" and never used his name. I expect they are singing and dancing together in heaven. Like my mother in the photo in the post, I salute him by remembering him in this blog post.

1 comment:

Mel said...

Your story was very touching. My Grandfather committed suicide in the 1950s. I remember as a child seeing it on his death certificate and wondering who he was. I learned later that cousins believe he had an untreated mental illness. Thanks for sharing your Uncle's story.