Wordless Wednesday

Wordless Wednesday

Veterans Day Remembrance of Jacob Romick

My Great, Great, Great Grandfather Jacob Romick was in the army twice. In 1841 and again during the Civil War. What a conundrum. I knew about his Civil War service since he has a military gravestone and I have a copy of the receipt for the stone and his pension record. But I had no idea that he was in the army twenty years earlier too.

According to the "Descriptive and Historical Register of Enlisted Soldiers of the Army" Jacob Romick was enlisted by Lt. Bradford in Columbus, Ohio in the 4 Artillery Co. F. on 29 January 1841. He was 21. He was discharged as a Private in July of 1843 in Fort Monroe, VA with a disability.

He returned to Ohio, married Rachel Britton on 30 Sept 1844 and they had 8 children: Mary M, Hosea, Charles M., Rachel L., Jacob E., William, George W. called General, and John T.B.

Flash forward twenty years.

Lt. Jacob Romick was one of the 100 Days Men in the 133 Ohio Volunteer Infantry. Active from 6 May 1864 to 6 Aug 1864, these volunteers along with thousands of others were to help the Union achieve victory in 100 days. You know that did not happen. His pension record indicates that he was an invalid. (I wonder what the original 1843 disability was and if he was injured again.)

I am still digging to learn more about him and his service. I did find out on the 1841 enlistment record that he was born in Fayette County, Ohio (something new I did not know.) and that he was 5 foot 9 inches tall and had brown hair, blue eyes and a fair complexion. It also had his occupation as a saddler. (That might explain why he kept going to war.)

Now if only I could figure out why was in the army at all in 1841. The Texas situation was over and the Mexican American War had not yet begun. I really do love history.

Mexican Almond Cake

I brought this cake to our international dessert day at work. I have made it many times and it always comes out perfect. Moist and not too sweet. Several people asked for the recipe, so here it is. It is adapted from Cocina Mexicana by Marlena Spieler.

Torta de Cielo

3/4 C. whole almonds with the peel.

1 C. room temperature sweet butter

1 C. sugar

3 eggs lightly beaten

1 tsp. almond extract

1 tsp. vanilla extract

9 Tblsp all-purpose flour

a pinch of salt.

Lightly grease a 8-inch round or square cake pan and put wax paper on the bottom.

Pulverize the almonds until they have become flour. I use a mini-chop for this.

Beat the butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Add the eggs, almond flour and both types of extract. Mix well. Add the flour and the salt. Mix until the flour is incorporated. Scoop the batter into the pan and smooth the top. Bake the cake in a preheated 350 degree oven for 40-50 minutes or until the top springs back when lightly touched.

Take the cake out of the oven and cool it on a wire rack or trivet. Pop it out of the pan and put it on a nice serving plate. Sprinkle powdered sugar over it. You can also decorate it with toasted almond slices.

Wordless Wednesday

Ghostly Encounter

The rain lashed against the windows and pounded on the roof. With the other guests out for the evening and the staff downstairs cleaning up from dinner; we were alone in the Coolidge Suite on the top floor corner. After a sumptuous meal with dessert and a glass of B&B by the fire; I was out like a light as soon as my head hit the pillow. The last thing I remember was Sissy still talking on the phone.

Over breakfast the next morning, she sipped her orange juice and casually asked if I had heard all the tromping during the night. I shook my head with a shrug. Tromping? There were only 4 people in the whole inn and the other guests were an elderly couple on the lower level and he was frail and walked with a cane.

The story unfolded as we waited on breakfast. After she got off the phone, she lay wakeful in the darkness; listening to the rain on the roof and the creaking of an old building settling in for the night. Over the sound of the storm, she heard someone tromp heavily up the stairs directly outside our room; then run up and down the long central hall to tromp back down the stairs. Up and down and back and forth. Through the noise, she could just catch a murmured conversation between several people. Loud enough to hear, but muffled enough to not be able to distinguish what was being said. This went on for 10 minutes.

It could not possibly be the frail couple downstairs. It was perplexing. Thinking perhaps other guests had arrived late, she turned over, pulled the blankets over her shoulder and went to sleep.

When the innkeeper brought our pancakes, I asked him if the inn were haunted. Built in 1840, I assumed it must be. He gently laid our plates in front of us and nodded. “Why,” he said, “what did you hear? After hearing the story, he then regaled us with stories of the ongoing spectral party in the bar, the wallpaper episode and the yellow room.

It was thrilling.

If you get the chance, stay the night at the Echo Lake Inn. Let me know if anything happens. I hope you don’t sleep through it like I did.

Hill Cemetery

High on the list of things to do once we reached Richmond was a visit to Hill Cemetery to lay flowers on the graves of our father's ancestors. But it proved more difficult to find the cemetery than we thought. We drove around peering into hedges, tree rows and overgrown fields. We asked at the town hall then drove around some more. We finally found Cemetery Road and the house on whose land the cemetery lay, but still could not figure out where it was.

On the off chance that he might be able to give us some direction, I sent an email to a Find-a-Grave friend, Linus Leavens. He was the fine fellow who fulfilled a photo request months before. He agreed to meet us and walk us in across the field and up the hill.

Early the next morning, we hopped out of the car and looked up at a forested slope like all of them around us. Linus pointed up the hill through the trees and assured us that indeed at the top was a cemetery. Circumventing the dew-drenched field, he made a bee-line for a barely discernible path. The golden leaves littered the forest floor providing a damp but firm footing for the steep climb. Linus strode ahead, like many a Green Mountain man before him; while Sissy and I followed gasping for breath. Pulling ourselves up through the last trees, we got our first glimpse of the headstones in the clearing.

The farmer who owned the land at some point, finding it difficult to mow around them, had removed the stones and stacked them. Generations later, the stones were reset, but not knowing where the graves lay, the stones were put in two long rows alphabetically. An odd arrangement to be sure, but these old stones are still readable when many other younger ones I have seen are not. We followed Linus straight to the "A's".


Our G5 Grandfather, Isaac Benoni Andrews was born 23 August 1765 to Isaac Benoni Sr and Mabel Messenger. He married Sara Morris when he was 24. She was 18. They had 6 children: Horace, John G. Sally, Thomas, Lucy and Lois. Only Horace, John G and Lucy lived to adulthood.


Sarah died in 1804 and Isaac married Clarissa Fay in 1805. Clarissa Fay was the daughter of Salmon and Azubah Packard Fay. Clarissa was 20 years his junior. They had 9 more children, bringing Isaac's total to 15. Isaac's oldest child, Horace was only 4 years younger than his step-mother. Not a surprise then when he married one of Clarissa's younger sisters, my G4 grandmother Azubah Fay. So I am not only descended from the Andrews line but also the Fays.

I cannot thank Linus enough for taking the time from his busy day to escort 2 strangers to an abandoned hilltop cemetery.