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Author: admin | 22.02.2014 | Category: Tinnitus Hearing Loss

There seems to be a bit of a mystery surrounding the birth and youth of our ancestor, Albert Raymond Morton.
The earliest events that any of his family knew of him was that, when a young man, he worked as a steamfitter on the Trans-Canadian Railroad. But, as to his birth, youth and parents, there are some real gaps in what is definitely knowna€”these were not topics of discussion in his home, and it simply did not occur to anyone to quiz him about his early life.
Wea€™ll keep these vague impressions in mind as they may generate some leads in our search, but we must also guard against the assumption that they are all correct.
So, with the little that we know of him, we have started to collect, and sort out, the few documents we have been able to find regarding his origin.
At the time of his birth (in the 1880a€™s) states were not yet keeping actual birth certificates. Again, remember that this information was provided from Raya€™s understanding of what happened when he was an infant, and given to the state many years later. Ira Homer Morton (Alberta€™s father) is buried there, next to Iraa€™s sister, Irene Morton Crankshaw.
The next document that we will discuss is his application for a Social Security account number [2]. Just below this document, we will attach another, which Albert completed just a few months later, in which he applied to the Social Security board to make a correction in his date of birth. This leaves us wondering why he would intentionally give an older date to the state of Kansas (and to several others) and a later date to the Social Security office. But, an even more important discrepancy arises in the names, ages and places of birth of his parents. Based upon the research we have done so far, we cannot pinpoint the exact year of his birth with any certainty, and the following list will help to show the difficulty in determining that year.
We have searched the records of the 1885 KS State census for Franklin Co., and have not yet been able to find him, or his family. We did find a record of his father, Ira Homer Morton, in the 1885 KS State census in Franklin Co., KS but in that record Ira stated that he was still a single man, unmarried, and he was living with his married sister, her family, and their aunt and a cousin.
One thing that has been very consistent about Raya€™s documents is that he invariably lists his mothera€™s name as Ida Louise Easley.
We searched for twenty-five years to find any record of this woman, other than those listed by Raymond, and were infuriatingly unsuccessfula€¦ until June 2012. She was thirteen years old in the 1870 Federal census for Chetopa, Neosho Co., KS and still livng with her parents and siblings at that time. In the 1880 Federal census for Lincoln, Neosho, Kansas, we find Aaron and Ida Bonham with a new set of twin boys, just a few months old, Clarence and Lawrence, born in early 1880.
At about the same time, Aaron Bonhama€™s parents had settled in Franklin Co., Kansas, about 80 miles to the north.
After this time, we can find no document to indicate that Aaron Bonham was still alive, but neither can we prove that he had died. Aaron and Ida could have divorced, she then quickly married Ira Morton in the fall of 1885 (after the census) and they could have had a son, Raymond, the following year--Sept 1886. Aaron could have been away for an extended period and Ida could have met Ira Morton and had a child out of wedlock before Aarona€™s return.
Now, keeping that dilemma in mind, leta€™s proceed with the other documents that we have been able to find for Ida L.
Note that at the time of this marriage, she was still going by the name of a€?Bonhama€? -- not Morton.
The 1890 Federal census would have been very helpful to us here, but unfortunately, it was destroyed.
We would never have thought to search for this record under the names of a€?Holmesa€? without first finding the record of her marriage. In the very same year, and census for the same county, we find that by the time the census taker had moved on to the home of Martha Bonhama€™s (the widowed mother of Aaron Bonham--and mother-in-law of Ida L.
Now, this census was just a very short time after the previous exhibit (above) but here, Ray is listed as being 10 years old, and with the surname of a€?Bonham.a€? It is the same young boy.
Even though Raya€™s mother had moved west, to Arizona, Ray continued to live with Martha Bonham.
The questions must arise, that if Ray was born a€?out of wed-locka€? while Marthaa€™s daughter-in-law was still married to her son, Aaron, one might think that of all of the children, Martha might be the least likely to take this young boy into her home to raise. Whether Ray was actually going by the Bonham name, as indicated above, or whether the census taker once again made an assumption of that, is not known. In the 1905 KS State census we again find this family still living in Stafford Co., KS with Frank Bonham now showing as the head of the household, and Martha was still alive at age 78, but Ray is no longer living with them. It is interesting that Ida stated that her parent were born in KY, because in prior census records she had always correctly stated they were born in Tennessee. In the 1920 Federal census for Bakersfield, Kern Co., CA we find the family has moved inland.
Note that Margaret Bonham Kelly had named her oldest son, William Raymond Kelly, with his middle name being a remembrance of her younger brother, Albert Raymond Morton. We have heard that Ida Louise Easley Bonham (Morton) Holmes Hamilton passed away in Bakersfield, CA in the 1930s but we do not have a specific date for her death at this time. In only one record, his a€?Delayed Certificate of Birtha€? did Ray give an estimated age for his father. We have searched all the available records to try to find anyone by this exact name who may have lived in Kansas, Missouri, Ohio, or any other surrounding state during this period of time and have found no one with that exact name. We previously mentioned the 1885 Kansas State census [9] in which a€?Ira Mortona€? was living in Williamsburg, Franklin Co., Kansas with his sister, Irene E. From this record, we have been able to go back to both Wisconsin, and New York, and find many records for this particular man. The purpose of this article is to document Raya€™s life, so we will not list all of the documentation for his parents, but merely summarize the key points that are pertinent. This connection, through Ohio, may account for why Ray understood that his father may have come from, and even been born in Cleveland, Ohio, and listed that city as the birth place of his father on one of the documents cited earlier. One other brief comment about this family: When Aunt Shirley Morton Donaldson, Raya€™s youngest daughter, went to Kansas on her research trip, and found the reference to George and Irene Crankshaw living in Williamsburg, she said that that name seemed to have a familiar ring to her from hearing comments made by her father years earlier.
We really know very little about Raya€™s youth, but with his consistent statements that he was born in Ottawa, Franklin County, Kansas, that is the first place we began looking.
We actually have no other record for him anywhere between the 1900 census record mentioned earlier (for Stafford Co., KS) and the next one in 1915.


We did find one interesting record from 1912 that showed a Raymond Morton tried to cross over the boarder into Canada but was turned back by the authorities. Although the Canadian recruiter judged him fit for duty at the time of his enlistment, Ray was in fact discharged from the army on 18 June 1916 in Toronto, Ontario with the comment that he was a€?medically unfit.a€? He had been entered on the a€?Casualty Forma€? on 22 May 1916 before the actual discharge came through about four weeks later. From this point we know that Ray made his way back to Big Valley, Alberta and went to work in the mines. This couple moved from place to place seeking work primarily on government jobs, particularly thoughtout the great depression.
From this point on, the family has a clear knowledge and recollection of Raya€™s life, and so we will not go into that in this article. It appears that from about 1895, when Ray was approximately 8-10 years old, that he left his mother and siblings to live elsewhere. We hope this presentation is helpful to any of Alberta€™s posterity in future efforts of trying to find and document his life and his ancestry. Note that at the time of this marriage, she was still going by the name of a€?Bonhama€? -- not Morton.A  This adds credence to the supposition that she may not have actually married Ira H.
Joseph reckoned it would take less than three hours for the tree to absorb the flyzard's nutrients. He thought of the bedraggled puffer crouching in the corner of the lab aviary, mangled and dying. The foremen howled with laughter as McIntyre bowed, a toothy grin spreading beneath his moustache. Cal glanced at the crippled puffer-owl behind the transparent wall of the aviary, luminous eyes studying its captors as if they were the ones in a cage. Joseph's laughter rang against the walls, bold and unfettered for the first time since his arrival on Kelvyn.
The pulverizers were roaring at full capacity when Joseph and Cal reached the edge of the clearing zone. Joseph stared at the stocky crew chief, knew with sick certainty that the man would not back down.
One section of the colony structure and three pulverizers were demolished while the crews slept.
Joseph knew little of his own Cherokee heritage: only scraps culled from thousands of history disks he had searched over the years. Cal shamed McIntyre into letting Joseph out the next morning after it happened for the second time. A mogre slipped from the splintered tree line on six powerful legs, drawn into the open by the scent of death. The two men jogged toward the temporary sleep-cubes where McIntyre and most of the foremen bedded down. Marsalis glanced at the ruins of the crew chief's cubicle, then nodded with obvious relief. Joseph and Cal were in the lab four hours later when the last shuttle blasted off for the Surveyor. Cal studied Joseph with a new expression in his eyes: surprise, admiration, a trace of fear. The two men stopped just inside the stand of trees that marked the boundary of the village. Cal was a slender man, but he managed to sling Joseph over his shoulder and stagger back toward camp.
Cal sank to the ground in exhaustion, breath coming in strangled gasps, and laid Joseph beside him. In the second document, he changed his year of birth to 1883--which now coincides with his recreated birth certificate. Morton Crankshaw and her family, as well as their widowed Aunt Sarah Cather, and her son, Henry Cather (a cousin of Iraa€™s). 1915, Raymond was standing in the Army recruitera€™s office in Toronto, Ontario, Canada, where he enlisted in the Canadian Over-seas Expeditionary Force. Easley Bonham--the twins who died at just a few months old, and the four living children, three of which (# 1, 2 & 4) all claim that Aaron Bonham was their father, but #3 (Raymond) always claimed that his father was Ira Morton. Aaron and Ida could have divorced, she then quickly married Ira Morton in the fall of 1885 (after the census) and they could have had a son, Raymond, the following year--Sept 1886.A  We know Ira died in 1888, and Ida could have been reconciled to Aaron and remarried him with Bernice born to them in 1888-89. Each tree was a scale model of the forest, supporting a complete ecosystem within its massive coils.
He was in better shape than anyone else in the Surveyor's crew, but the strong gravity of Kelvyn still sapped the strength from his muscles.
Skin and bones would drop to the forest floor, where scavengers feasted on the porcu-pine's leavings. A mousipede crouched in the grass near the center of the clearing, nibbling on the fruit of a bloodberry bush. A broad pair of forewings and a smaller pair of hindwings controlled their speed and direction of flight. Joseph could not see the creatures hidden behind the leaves, but their terror and confusion buffeted him in waves. He searched the work zone for Angus McIntyre and spotted the crew chief near a field console, poring through schematics with a cluster of foremen.
It didn't take long to locate McIntyre, but the noise made it impossible to talk in the open.
He read of the Busk, the festival celebrating first fruits and new fires, but the words had no flavor. The essence of what the Cherokee had been eluded him, like the dappled outline of a lightning-buck darting through morning mist. He looked more like a cornered animal than the puffers that circled above him, singing their silent rage. They fell to the ground, Joseph clawing for the laser, McIntyre still trying to aim at the retreating puffers.
He had been up most of the night, haunted by ghastly visions of Shaman erupting into flame. For a moment he was gliding through the ancient forests of America with his ancestors - strong and unbowed - sinews stretching down into the fragrant soil like roots. Yet the rustle of leaves, the fragrance of vegetation, the spring of living carpet beneath his feet offered familiar comfort.


He took three swallows from his water pack and watched in fascination as a nearby porcu-pine lured its prey.
It scurried halfway to the tree line on its dozen stubby legs before the puffer's talons dug into its back.
He wriggled between the loops of a corkscrew so his presence would not disturb the puffers. I also know that Corporate is rattlin' their saber a little louder every day, and it's not your head'll be rolling if we fall behind. When we rape a world, it's never the same again; it dies of shame and misery, then it rots around us until we leave.
He read of Sequoya and others who tried to adapt to the white man's customs, hoping to salvage some shred of their culture. The tension in his body unwound as the three of them ambled through the maze of plasteel and titanium toward the far edge of the site.
An ugly purple bruise bloomed on one cheek; a split lip bulged beneath the bushy moustache now matted with blood. Massive crocodilian jaws snapped up the tenderest chunks, crushing them to pulp as they vanished into its maw.
These men did not fear anything in the galaxy they could see, but an invisible enemy was too much for them. I've reviewed every scrap of seismic data I have, and there's just nothing out of the ordinary about this chunk of rock. Then the crippled puffer-owl spread his speckled wings, inflated, and vanished into the sky. Hamilton.A  It could be that for personal safety reasons, that she listed the name of her deceased husband as if he were still living, but there is another listing with the date of 30 Nov.
Corkscrew ferns twisted toward the sky in tightly bunched loops all around him, giant fronds feathering out to catch the orange sunlight. He felt in tune with the rhythms of nature here, reconnected to the threads of growth and life woven into the very fabric of his soul. A brown flying-lizard not much bigger than a pigeon hovered between the branches, drawn by the aroma of honeysap that oozed from the porcu-pine's bark. It squeaked twice as its captor flipped it and sliced through its tender belly with a scythe-like beak. Well, now, there's a thrivin' colony on that planet, and I don't believe a one of them that built it spent a slim second in lockup. The roar of the pulverizers swelled, much tamer now that half their number had been reduced to scrap. We've only five pulverizers left as it is, and the lads can't make any progress with this commotion. Before Joseph could react, a rod of light leapt from McIntyre's hand into the mass of puffers.
Shackled by the roustabouts, Joseph could only shout to drive the demonic creature back into the forest. He's dead and buried… just a few hours after you told him he oughta haul ass out of here for his own safety. He saw the same wonder in Cal Benton's eyes that he himself had felt when he first walked among the corkscrews. I better get you back so we can drug you up good… and so I can jabber some double-talk at Marsalis. They had been chased away by a ghoul with hair the color of blood and a moustache of flame. Eight interminable months trapped in the sterile shell of the Surveyor had almost driven him mad… but the land restored him. As soon as the flyzard touched the sticky sap, the branches snapped together, impaling it with a dozen needles. A few minutes passed before the bloated outline of a puffer-owl glided from the upper branches. Because of the strong surface gravity of Kelvyn, they could not get off the ground without the buoyancy of their flight bladders. Far beyond his vision, a clan of puffer-owls had built their living chambers, piling section upon section as family and home grew together, intertwined. He barely missed an outstretched porcu-pine branch as he labored back the way he had come, legs pumping against the iron grip of Kelvyn, black hair dancing in the wind. It floated across the glade with silent stealth, riding the wind like a feathered zeppelin. These inflated with hydrogen extracted from the air when the owls rose, swelling them like balloons. When he staggered into the clearing near the camp, ten pulverizers were already online, gobbling the forest and turning it to mulch. McIntyre followed their gaze, stroking a bushy red moustache that burned like fire in the orange light.
But the fact is, we've got to finish the shell structure here and be hyperspatial toward Avalon inside of two months, or it's my ass. After a few weeks with the pulverizers, we'd flattened half their hunting territory and driven most of the game away. Maybe this planet has some weird localized tectonics, some kind of seismic hiccup we haven't detected yet. I programmed the computer to scan the ultrasonic frequencies, and there it was: they have a musical vocabulary, pitched so high that the human ear can't detect it. Soon Shaman's village would be a memory, and here he sat like a caged animal, cut off from the sweet breath of the land… unable to stop the slaughter of a way of life. They wheeled overhead, diving and snapping at the crews, filling the air like a plague of feathered locusts. Without warning he whipped it down across his legs, driving the needles deep into his thighs before collapsing with a cry.
Survivors climbed frantically above the inferno, but McIntyre kept firing, setting off a dozen smaller explosions.




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  1. The ears and pressure involve not the way to get very good at performing it well. They.
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Children in kindergarten to third, seventh and expertise anxiety and taking deep swallows for the duration of the descent of ascent of a flight. Also.