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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.
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GENEALOGY CHALLENGE 2021 - Childhood Heirloom


GENEALOGY CHALLENGE 2021

Childhood Heirloom - January 19th entry of a 31-day challenge to post a document, photo or artifact on social media every day in January.  

by Nancy Gilbride Casey


"Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand.” 

—Margery Williams Bianco, The Velveteen Rabbit

The beloved children's tale quote captures the sentiments of most anyone who has loved a toy in their life, be it a rabbit, a Skin Horse, or a teddy bear. Few comforts compared to the warm softness of a cherished furry friend when one was feeling scared or lonely. So few friends could keep a secret and conspire on adventures, without breathing a word to anyone.

This patchy, worn, often-mended teddy bear—aptly named Teddy—belonged to my father-in-law Jim Casey, Sr. He recalls it being given to him as a very young child, likely by his Casey grandparents when his family lived in Muskogee, Oklahoma in the early 1940s.

"I do remember it was a constant companion. I slept with it and remember carrying it around by its hand wherever we went. I don't ever remember having an attachment to a blanket like some, but I do remember the teddy bear being a must."

Jim Casey, Sr., sleeping with Teddy at his grandparents' home in California, 1947.

Teddy, today.

I wonder what sort of shenanigans Dad and Teddy got up to together. I picture my father-in-law as a young sprout, walking along the country road with the bear dangling from his hand, taking Teddy on adventures.

"...I do remember being quite upset when one of the arms tore loose, probably from my carrying it by that arm for so long."

As with most toys and as with most children, the bear eventually fell out of favor as he grew: "...when I started to school at six...I stopped carrying it around constantly, probably because I was developing friendships and being occupied with them."

But Teddy was always there for him. 
 
"I remember keeping it in my room, always propping it up on my pillow when I made my bed and always cherished it as a source of comfort and security, which is why I never relinquished it."
 
Teddy now resides with our family, a cherished heirloom of a long-ago childhood, and a promise of adventures and solace for a future generation.
 
Teddy bear sits in Jim Casey, Sr.'s wooden rocker.

 
NEXT UP: Obituary

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