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Gilbride or Gallagher: Which Michael is Buried in Sacramento?

I'm taking on a little challenge this week to hopefully correct a mistake 138-years in the making. It involves a cemetery record in which the wrong surname was recorded. Was it Michael Gilbride or Michael Gallagher who was interred at St. Joseph Cemetery in Sacramento? (You may remember my posts about Michael Gilbride published in fall 2022, and how I originally discovered him, his family's move to Lowell, Massachusetts, and more. To catch up, start here:  Dear Sir: How I Found My Civil War Veteran, Michael Gilbride .) I can make a compelling case that the man was Michael Gilbride, who is a third great-granduncle, and the son of my immigrant ancestor James Gilbride (1874-1872) and his wife Mary Catherine Hart Gilbride (1807-1855). Why is this important? Michael was a Civil War veteran, who served in the 52nd Pennsylvania, Co. H. By the time he lived in Sacramento, he was indigent. In 1884, he applied for a Civil War pension, and was still fighting for it in 1886, when he died.

Just the Facts

Artifacts, that is.

Family artifacts can evoke strong memories of a person, an event or a place. They come in all shapes, sizes and type of item. They hang out in drawers, stow away in attics, lurk in jewelry boxes, and sometimes even hide in plain sight.

Birth record silver spoon, circa 1963. Photo N. Casey


Last summer, I opened a kitchen drawer to get a spoon to dole out some sugar, and grabbed a little, tarnished silver one. But that day, the script name "James" caught my eye. Upon closer look, I noticed a date etched into the handle: April 2, 1963. My husband's birth date. The v-shaped lines on the handle's center oval took a minute to decipher: 7:56 a.m., the hour and minute of his birth shown as on a clock face. This commemorative spoon--an artifact--told the story of Jim's birth. It showed that a relative or friend cared enough to mark that event in a special way.

An artifact can also be a special garment, and one of my favorites is a christening gown. I wore this gown on November 12, 1961, when I was baptized at St. Charles Catholic Church in Parma, Ohio, accompanied by my parents, and my godparents: my uncle Tom Kozlina (Mom's brother), and aunt Margaret Gilbride (Dad's sister).

Daughter Anne wearing my christening gown, May 15, 1994. 

This dress has been worn by two other family members, a tradition I hope continues to include future baby girls. My sister Sharon wore the gown in September 1967 when she was baptized in St. Joseph Catholic Church in Cleveland. Our daughter Anne (pictured), also wore it when she was baptized at St. Mary's Catholic Church in Winona, Minnesota in May 1994.

By far the oldest artifacts I own come from my grandmother Margaret Simonik Kozlina and her family. Her beautiful baptismal certificate commemorates her christening in 1913 in Morewood, Pennsylvania. Written in Slovak, it includes the spelling of her name as "Margita."

It is translated:


Baptismal Certificate

By this it is certified that Jaroslav Janda, on the day the 8th of June, the Year of Our Lord 1913, according to the ritual of the Roman Catholic Church, baptized Margita from Morewood, born the 5th of June, 1913, the daughter of John Simonik and of his lawful wife Anna Tatar, for which ___ ___ and ___ ___ recited as godparents.

The present certificate is an original transcription from the (Registry?) of the Christened of the Roman Catholic Slovak parish of the Visitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary in Mt. Pleasant, Pa. (signed) Jaroslav Janda"


Baptismal record for Margaret "Margita" Simonik, 1913. An English version of her baptismal record notes godparents were Joseph Haneczak and Mary Kiliany. The Haneczak and Kiliany families were also from the small town of Forbasz (Forbasy, Slovakia), from which John and Anna Simonik emigrated.


Hand print tile, James Casey, 2004

A last artifact example is a hand-printed tile that our son James gave me for Mother's Day when he was in prekindergarten class. This item holds significance in that as a small child James hated to get his hands dirty in any way. His teacher told me that he resisted this art project for many days, until she finally was able to convince him to put the paint on his hands, "because it is for your Mom." I treasure the tile for the very reason that he had to give up his fussy ways to make sure I had a Mother's Day present.

I have come to truly appreciate family heirlooms for the memories they evoke, and how they allow me to see my ancestors from a new perspective. And I hold onto the more recent items which can become the family heirlooms of the future.

I invite you take a look around you with fresh eyes, and find your own family artifacts.


What are your artifacts? Feel free to share in the Comments section below.







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