When I was just a young pup, in the 60’s and 70’s, every
year we went to the Icke (pronounced “Ike”) family reunion in Carmen, Oklahoma,
the first weekend in August. My
grandmother Rachel was an Icke and we rarely missed one. Through my childhood, and into my teen years,
there was an old curmudgeon who came from St. Louis named Sam Icke. He was supposedly a cousin of my
grandmother’s but it was always a bit fuzzy where he fit into the people who
were important to me.
He was old (to me anyway), had a cigar (early on at least if
I remember. I always knew that was a
no-no), outspoken and opinionated but he did buy all the “sodie” for the
reunion. He would go downtown and buy
cases of “pop” (which is what WE called it) and on the Sunday of the reunion
(while we were, of course, at church), he iced it down and had it ready at the
Carmen City Park Pavilion (or alternately at the old skating rink if the park
was taken). I’m not sure if I liked Sam
or not, given his brashness, but if I did dislike him, it was tempered by his
purchase of sodie. As a kid, that
balanced things out for me.
Sam would always tell us, “you kids don’t waste that sodie!”
because we were always tempted to open one, drink a little, shake it up and squirt
each other. He was grumpy that way. As a kid I couldn’t understand the big deal.
As an adult I understand. As an adult I
am Sam-like that way.
Anyway, Sam would bring his second wife Olga (his first wife
had died) along with his grandson Tino.
I never understood why his parents didn’t come but vaguely remember
being told his parents had died and that was good enough for me the kid. Tino was a few years older than me and he
would pal around with me and my cousins like an older brother. He was always smiling. I remember as just a young teenager being
struck one year to find out that he wasn’t coming anymore. He died suddenly at 17 from a heart problem. I found that strange but being a self involved
teenage-type person it didn’t affect me too much.
Then comes today, November 24, 2012, my 33rd
wedding anniversary, and I’m going through the papers, newspaper articles and
such, that I got from my grandmother.
She lived with my aunt Leta and uncle Loyd Wilson her last years and
when aunt Leta passed, uncle Loyd thought it best to pass the papers on to the
family so gave them to uncle Vic. Uncle
Loyd’s thoughtful that way. Uncle Vic sent them to the last reunion and I
brought them home. The last few days I
have had a chance to scan some in to put on Ancestry.com.
I found a strange article (it’s below) talking about a
tragic accident where a couple were killed when their car went into a river and
they drowned. The couple, Mr and Mrs
Faustine Abella, left behind eight children and it said the couple was the
daughter of a cousin of my grandmother’s.
Still not knowing how it all went together, I filed it under my
grandmother’s documents and moved on. I
then found a full page article about Sam Icke, telling of all the things he
does at age 76-roofing, gardening, fiddling, dancing, quilt-making and so forth. As I read the article, it mentions Sam raised
his grandchildren after the tragic death of his daughter and son-in-law. Wait a minute-wasn’t Tino’s last name Abella? Then it all came together like a jigsaw
puzzle.
I began trying to figure out how Sam was related so I could
attach the articles to the right records on Ancestry. He couldn’t be a first cousin because none of
grandma’s brothers had a son named Sam that fit (although she did have a brother-wrong
age though). Could it be her dad, John
Cheatum Icke’s, brother’s kids? Sure
enough, a Samuel Lee Icke popped up.
Born 1900, moved to Oklahoma as a child, then back home to St. Louis,
and died in November 1978. A perfect
fit.
Sam had a wife, Minnie, who had died (fit again) and two
daughters-one was Jenny May who died in 1957.
Was that the right date? I
flipped over the article to find an ad for the local theater. It was showing,
on January 7,8, & 9, 3:10 to Yuma. I
went over to IMDB.com to research and found 3:10 to Yuma was released in
1957. It was showing in Oklahoma in
January 1958. Bingo.
Once I input Jenny May under Sam, Ancestry found her death
certificate-Los Angeles California in 1957.
So I added a husband, Faustine Abella, and up came his death
certificate-same place, same time. But I
did find he’s actually Faustino Abella and was from, per the certificate,
“other country”. I then put in Tino and
seven other unknown children under him and lo and behold, up pops Tino’s death
certificate. And his name wasn’t Tino-it
was Faustino as well. He was less than a year old when his parents died. He passed as well in 1973 at the age of 17-in
Illinois where his grandparents lived.
Sam always was a curmudgeon, as I noted at the beginning,
but knowing what I know now-the life he lived as a young kid, moving to Indian
Territory in a covered wagon, moving back east again, suffering the tragic loss
of his child, the pain of his orphaned grandchildren, the loss of a wife, then
again of a beloved grandson he raised, can you blame him?
So, why is history so important? These people aren’t just dusty facts. They are real people who live lives just like
us. For some it’s harder. Maybe if we know their history, instead of
being a curmudgeon, they suddenly become giant heroes. I’m proud to be related to Sam. I hope I’m half the man he was.
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