Wrong Name, Right People

No brogue emerged from her lips. She'd learned Southern speak only. Her older siblings, and definitely her parents, must have retained the language of their native country throughout their lives. Sadly, all of my great-aunts and uncles had died before my first birthday.

My dear Granny Ruth possessed no memory of her birthplace, having been removed from there at about nineteen months of age. Even so, there was never any question of her origins as all who knew her, and most especially her own family, recognized her roots.

Her parents married on December 24, 1852 in Ballysnodd, County Antrim, Ireland. A copy of the certificate declares that David was a bachelor and 'Jane,' a spinster. He is further described as a labourer. Both their fathers are listed: Francis Junkin and Thomas McKinstry. Seeing the signatures of my great-grandparents on this historic document is stirring. I doubt if they ever saw the document themselves. Certainly they would be stunned to know that a great-grandchild now cherishes a facsimile.

The couple settled near Larne and while enduring the horrendous Potato Famines, expanded their family for the next twenty years. Granny was the last child born in that locale. Life must have been unimaginably difficult.



When the eldest child, Thomas James, was yet a teen-ager, he left for America to work in his Uncle Jim Junkin's blacksmith shop. Jim had emigrated to Natchez, Mississippi in 1851. How curious it is that this small Southern town was chosen as the Irishman's new home. Whatever the reasons, they are unknown to us today and remain a tantalizing mystery.

As was fairly common in the 19th century, Thomas saved his money and sent most of it back to his family in Ireland. This sacrifice allowed the entire David Junkin family to sail from Liverpool to New Orleans. They arrived aboard the Saint Louis on August 10, 1874.

All that I ever knew about this momentous crossing was that the family disembarked in New Orleans. A few years ago, I discovered a copy of the original ship's passenger list as part of the New Orleans Passenger Lists, 1820-1945. By typing in my great-grandfather's name and the port of arrival, I soon gasped as I read a litany of familiar names. Thankfully, the indexing provided for alternate spellings of surnames. Otherwise, I never would have located my ancestor's records.

About halfway down the page of passenger's names, written in mostly legible script, I stared at David (age 40), [He was actually 49.] Janet (age 38), [She was actually 42.] Eliza (age 16), Ellen (age 15), William (age 13), Hugh (age 11), Sarah (age 9), Francis (age 7), Samuel (age 5) and Ruth (infant.) The surname is recorded as 'Jenkins.' Once again, David is described as a 'labourer.' The 'Country to which they severally belong' is listed as Ireland. The 'Country of which they intend to become inhabitants' is the United States. There's a column for 'Died on the voyage.' The final column is denoted, 'Part of the vessel occupied during the Voyage.' For my family, it is steerage.

The early Mississippi days were spent in a home owned by Uncle Jim. Eventually, the burgeoning family moved to a house in the country known as 'Sunnyside.' Adapting quickly to local farming methods and crops, the Junkins prospered. One more child, a boy named John, was born in 1876.

My own Uncle T.J. told me that the strength of the family resided in Great-grandmother Jennie. (She of the various given names: Jane, Janet, Jennet, Jennie.) Stories abounded about her ability to look at a wagon of cotton, newly picked and ready to be weighed. She's shout out the poundage as she sat in a rocker on the porch of her house. Almost always, she predicted the exact amount of cotton picked during the day.

In December 1902, this venerable couple celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary. For two people to have survived together to reach this milestone is remarkable. As part of the celebration, a local photographer was summoned to capture the day. The resulting photograph is one of my favorite family heirlooms. An enlarged version of the nearly 110 year old scene is prominently displayed in my family room. The assembled kin bring me abundant joy on a continuous basis.



I look at the upper right-hand corner and gaze at my then young grandparents. Each is holding a small child, my eldest aunt and uncle, Ellen and Harry. My own daddy, named for Granny's brother Hugh, won't be born for another eight years.

Through the years, I've created stories about the various generations gathered to honor David and Jennie. I simply love the little girl dressed in a pinafore. I can sense the rambunctious nature of the small boys on the front row who appear a bit peeved at having been required to stop their game of stick ball and pose somewhat sullenly. I'm drawn to the lass who must have insisted that her doll join the group. I ponder the origin of the striped throw lying across a great-aunt's skirt. It might have been a serape, given its apparent texture. (One of my first cousins owns this ancient piece of fabric, having inherited it from her mother.) I smile when I look at the feather boa draped around the neck of a young maiden. I'm impressed by the multitude of beards worn by the gentlemen and wonder about their scratchiness. Sometimes I long for a colored version of the photograph. What hues were present in clothing, eyes, hair? I can only imagine the answers.

As a gift to honor David and Jennie, the surviving eight siblings and their families presented their parents with a stunning set of china. Recently, I viewed an original dinner plate from this service and continue to wonder if other pieces exist in the homes of various distant cousins.



Two years ago, I began the process to become an Irish citizen. My paternal grandmother's birth in what is now Northern Ireland assures my eligibility. I learned that all her children were automatically citizens of Ireland. Not one of them knew of this dual citizenship. Gathering the required documents to prove my eligibility required considerable effort and expense. Subsequent correspondence with the Irish consulate necessitated additional documentation. Perhaps in 2012 a letter will arrive confirming my status. The circle will then be complete.