Alice K. Thurston, Deaf and Determined, my 2nd cousin

This morning, I came to the Thurston branch of my family tree, which shoots off from the Greeks and McCormicks of Gibson County, Indiana. For reference, my third great-grandmother on mother's side was Berilla (Mills) Greek, who lived 1829-1908 and was the daughter of my pioneer ancestor, Duston Mills (1804-1875), and wife of prominent Gibson Co. farmer, Joseph Greek (1822-1911).

Berilla's grand-daughter, Helen McCormick-Thurston (1902-1980), had two daughters--Evelyn in 1925 and Alice in 1931. Helen was a single mother in 1940, raising her daughters alone and running a beauty salon in Princeton, Indiana. The girls were listed on the 1940 U.S. Census as living at home with their mom; however, I found a second census record that year for the youngest one, Alice K. Thurston, and it led me to this:

INDIANA STATE SCHOOL FOR THE DEAF Indianapolis

I searched for records of her attendance, but could find nothing on Google. On the school's website, I found the Admissions Office and contacted a Mrs. Rice. She led me to the digital collection containing their archives on Indiana University's website. That's where I struck gold, including this senior picture of Alice, giving her full name and hometown.

Not only was that such a cool find in and of itself, but her name is the same as my grandmother, Alice Kathryn Dunning-Larson-Wright, just spelled in the "southern Indiana way." In fact, I've seen my own grandmother's name mispelled "Kathern," they way it's pronounced in the country. :)

The school had a monthly publication, first called The Silent Hoosier, but by the time Alice enrolled in January 1937, it was simply called The Hoosier. Not only was Alice in that publication dozens of times between 1937-1950, but she submitted more than a couple of articles, including this one on learning to swim in the May 1949 edition of The Hoosier:

LEARNING HOW TO SWIM

I have been afraid of water all my life and never learned to swim until last summer. My sister and brother-in-law tried their best to make me overcome this fear. When they tried to teach me how to swim, I was very stubborn. They let me go after they helped me to float many times. I was choked, but sure enough, I conquered the fear. I learned to do several things in water. I have not learned to swim skillfully, but it is satisfying to know that I can swim some. Now I would love to go swimming. —Alice Thurston

I learned all kinds of valuable information from that publication, like her nickname "Thirsty," the names of her best friends and her aspirations. During her last two years at the school, she aspired to become "the world's fastest typist," the Vice-President of the United States and the operator of her mother's beauty shop in Princeton. I don't know if any of those aspirations were realized or not, but I feel like I came to know my second cousin a little bit better. She was a very active student at the school, attending there from K-12, participating in clubs, music, cheer squad ("yell leader")--yes, the deaf school had yell leaders--and writing for The Hoosier. She graduated June 6, 1950 and the trail for her grows cold.

Her parents either divorced or her father perished while she was a student at the Indianapolis-based school, about a three hour drive from her hometown. There was one instance where she wrote about a visit by her mom, dad and sister, in the late 1930's. My best guess is that her father left for California, remarried and became an auto mechanic for a Bakersfield, CA, Chevrolet dealership. Her mother reported to the 1940 Census taker that she was widowed. I'm not certain, but I do know that she grew to womanhood without her father's presence. I can't imagine that opportunities were as plentiful in the 1950's for people with disabilities as they are today, but with her good looks, abilities and determination, I'm sure she made a good life for herself.

Discoveries like that are what fuel my drive to complete the book I'm writing about my family, from pioneer times in Gibson County, IN, to the present. Thanks for taking the time to read this post.

Black Pop Culture History: The Jeffersons

When The Jeffersons hit the airwaves in 1975, I was a 6-year-old living in a white middle class neighborhood, attending a parochial school that had barely a handful of black students. The local country club where most of my friends spent their summers did not allow people of color. We belonged to the Jordan Y for that very reason. The most black kids I had been around was in a pee-wee football league at Riverside Park. To me, the Indianapolis park at 30th and Riverside Drive was “inner city.” Needless to say, I was pretty far removed from the African-American experience.

My parents didn’t let us watch All in the Family, so I doubt I saw the spin-off about an African-American couple “moving on up to the Eastside” when it first aired in '75. I do remember watching it a few years later, but didn’t think anything of its mostly black cast. By that time, other shows like Good Times and Sanford and Sons had also hit the airwaves, so I was reasonably accustomed to seeing “sitcoms of color,” shall we say. (Yeah, just try to get the Sanford and Sons theme music out of your head now, LOL!!!)

You may ask, “Why highlight a 70’s television series in honor of Black History Month?” Well, The Jeffersons is the longest-running series with a predominantly African-American cast in the history of American television. It received eight Golden Globe and eleven Emmy nominations, including six consecutive Lead Actress Emmy nominations (1979-1985) for Mrs. Jefferson actress Isabel Sanford. She won in 1981 and became only the second black female to do so. Gail Fisher was the first in 1970, winning an Emmy for her role on the hit series Mannix (annotated, Wikipedia).

By the the time Mrs. Jefferson won her Emmy Award, my family had moved to the Northeast side near Arlington High School. The popular CBS sitcom more closely reflected the neighbors I grew up amongst, including many middle to upper-middle class black families. Maybe that too lessened the shows impact on me as an adolescent. Still, you didn’t see many of those families represented on prime time television. And you certainly never saw mixed marriages. By the way, none of my neighbors had housekeepers, at least not to my knowledge, so maybe we were just a solid middle-class neighborhood. Either way, it was a much different neighborhood and more culturally diverse than Broad Ripple. My paper route took me close to the feared Jamestown Apartments at 46th and Arlington. I no longer attended parochial school, but a more integrated public school, IPS No. 106 (aka Robert Lee Frost School). In hindsight, I am glad my parents made that move when I was just nine years old.

The Jeffersons is significant not just for it’s record run on television, nor for it’s sizeable audience (finishing just behind Dallas and 60 Minutes in the Neilsen ratings for 1981-82 season), but for paving the way for other popular shows, like The Cosby Show and The Fresh Prince of Bel Air. It’s cultural impact did not go unnoticed by Bret Fetzer, who wrote on the Super 70’s website, “The black and white mix of the cast allowed for a sharply satirical take on race relations, which managed to have a genuine sense of hope while never glossing over the complexity of racial tension…” The show broke a number of television taboos, depicting an interracial marriage in the Jefferson’s neighbors, Tom and Helen Willis, and an African-American transgendered character, as the Racialicious blog points out. These were no small matters in the late 70’s. In fact, the former led to a research paper shared in 1976 at the Annual Meeting of the Southern Speech Communication Association in San Antonio, Texas.

Sure, the characters occassionally represented negative ethnic stereotypes, but they weren’t down-and-out, living on the lower East side. George Jefferson was a self-made man, whose dry cleaning business had flourished. These were not your typical urban themes of the other popular “sitcoms of color,” like those mentioned above. The Jeffersons had their own live-in maid, who provided much of the comedy, in my opinion. I used to love watching her disrespect her employer and put him in his place. The show is still as funny today as it was back then.

So hats off to Isabel Sanford, Sherman Hemsley, the cast and crew of The Jeffersons for making history and an indelible mark on the American television landscape!