I have to give the credit of this story title to my mother. I’m a bit of a sucker for things that rhyme (I blame the Princess Bride), and considering my mom plays a part in this story it only seemed fair to let her name it.
This story begins with a family tradition.
We all have them, and they range in their believability and preposterousness (did I just make those words up?).
There are some people who would seem to stake their lives on the truth of a
story told to them by their great, great-grandmother, even when it’s not proven
truth. And then there are people like me who basically refuse to believe any
tradition unless I have proof. I’d always rather have the truth even if I find
out the truth is uglier than the family tradition. You might say it sounds like
I have personal experience with this? Why yes, yes I do.
I remember once hearing a tradition from
someone in my family (can't remember who) when I was very young. My not
remembering who it was might tell you how old I was at the time it was told to
me. A perfect example of the “telephone game” aspect of family traditions.
However, what I do remember is that my ancestor, Addison Winch, a school teacher wanted
a better schoolhouse built for the children, and when no one did anything about
it, he decided to burn down the old school so that they would have to build a
new one. That was my distant, faded, and even fragmented childhood memory of
the story. Like I said, it is very possible that I am remembering what my
family told me all wrong. Imagine my mother's and my surprise when she found a
newspaper article on the Old Fulton Postcards website (http://www.fultonhistory.com/Fulton.html), a fantastic tool for New York research.
What she found I have since transcribed. This article not only shatters the
family tradition's perception of Addison, but also sheds light on the life of his
wife, Mary Jane Hall Winch. I thought about telling the story in my own words,
but in the end, I decided the language of the article was too interesting not
to share.
"The
Buffalo Express Tuesday Morning November 21, 1898
Family
Affair
Barn
was Burned and Horse was Shot
--------
Narrow
Escape of House
--------
Farm
of Addison Winch of Marilla Turned Out A Sensation for the Neighbors-No
complaint has been Lodged with Authorities
-------
Wales Center... - The barn on the farm
of Addison Winch, in the town of Marilla about three miles from here, was
burned about 6 o’clock this morning. The house also was damaged by fire. Mr.
Winch is alleged to have set fire to both house and barn. Incidental to the
burning of the barn and the attempt on the house it is said that a horse was
shot by Mr. Winch.
The story of the affair at the Winch farm as
told by neighbors and uncontradicted so far as known by anyone is to this
effect. Mr. Winch is about 62 years old. With his wife and two children, one a
boy and the other a girl, both in their teens, he lives in a comfortable house
on his farm. He has been a semi-invalid suffering from dyspepsia, for several
years. This morning he wanted to take the horse to drive to Porterville, about
four miles from home. He said he would take his daughter with him as far as her
school. Mrs. Winch wanted to take the girl to school herself. Mrs. Winch went
to the barn, it is related, to harness the horse. Mr. Winch followed her. Mrs.
Winch led the horse from the barn. In what followed, Mr. Winch is said to have
been upset both bodily and mentally. He drew a revolver from his pocket and
shot the horse.
Mrs. Winch and her daughter are said then to
have gone to the house of a neighbor. Soon after their departure the barn was
seen to be burning. When neighbors arrived it was too far gone to be saved. The
house was found to be burning in two places, but the flames there were
extinguished.
A neighbor sent word to Winch’s son in school
in this village. The son called on Dr. J.D. Wooster, the family physician, who
advised him to see a justice of the peace. The justice sent words to Mrs. Winch
to come to town and lodge complaint and he would issue a warrant for the arrest
of her husband, but the invitation was not accepted. Mr. Winch himself came to
town and is now at the home of a friend. To the correspondent of The Express,
he said he was sorry that he had been led by his temper. After shooting the
horse he gave the revolver to Charles Blood, a neighbor.
No one seems to be disposed to proceed against
Mr. Winch on a charge of burning his own barn and shooting his own horse."
Quite the revelation, isn’t it? While Mary
Jane and Addison were still living together with their two children in 1892, by
the time the 1900 census was taken, Addison is a patient in the Buffalo State
Hospital, where it is possible he still was in 1905 and 1910. In 1915 Addison lived in
Alden, New York as a boarder; in 1920 he lived with extended family, and in
1925 he lived in Armherst, New York. Mary Jane lived with her
children in 1900, 1910, 1920, and most likely until her death in 1925.
When I visited Mary Jane and Addison’s
graves, I was amused to see that while they were next to each other with the rest of the family in a row, there was a big gap between their
headstones. Whether or not this was intentional, this seemed to fit very well
with how they could have felt about each other.
So why am I telling you this “disgraceful”
family story? Firstly, to prove you can’t believe family traditions without
doing some research. And secondly because, while dear Grandpa Addison is
hardly someone to look up to, I think Grandma Mary Jane is an
example of someone who made it through hard circumstances. While I have no
evidence that she wasn’t just as cantankerous as Addison, I just get that
feeling that she wasn’t. It’s a special feeling one can get about their
ancestors now and then. I don’t get it very often, and when I do, I take it
seriously. It’s as if that ancestor wants you to know something about them when
there is just simply no other way to hear their voice. I also believe in Mary
Jane because I have seen similar experiences of women throughout history and
even in those around me. Lest I seem biased to my own sex, I must also say I’ve
seen the same in the lives of men who have had their own equally trying family
members. Perhaps what it all comes down to is that people are people. We all
make mistakes. And if Addison is any indication, sometimes life will seem
downright crazy. I can't know exactly what life was like for Mary Jane, though
I can wonder and suppose. I think in some ways she must have felt very alone.
But in a way, I feel that my thinking about her, even though it’s now years
down the road, has made her not as alone as it may have seemed to her at the
time.
As we entered, there seemed to me to be a feeling of untouched hallowedness. Some headstones were still standing and readable, while others were broken, covered with moss, grass, and dirt - only a faded remembrance of the people they had once honored. 
The other difference was
definitely networking. My first year the thought of introducing myself to
anyone other than the professors from BYU didn’t occur to me, but this year it
was a constant thought at the back of my mind. That being said, was I very good
at networking this year? Probably not. As a naturally reserved person
networking is something that is harder for me than other things and something I
am working on one step at a time. But the good thing is I can already see some
improvement in myself in that area, small though it may be.
