The Ingalls Inquirer e-newsletter
Vol. 1-10
March, 1984-November, 1993
Published by Arlene Ingalls Schrader
 ISSN 1933-7329

Vol. 8, No.1 - March, 1991

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Thanks to James Ingall, Lake MI for the following items about Harold INGALL of Findlay, Ohio. Harold is a descendant of Charles Ingall, b 1774 London, England; George Augustus b 1815 England who migrated to USA.; son of Frederick James Ingalls b 1855. Harold Ingall was born 20 April 1895 Morenci MI and married Iva Lou Ham. They have two children: Allene and Jeanne.

Harold Ingall reported for service at Adrian MI 29 April 1918 with Morton Hopkins Ingall, (James Ingall father) assigned to 310th Engineers. Took train to Camp Custer, 4 July 1918 to Camp Mills, Long Island to Liverpool, England. At Brookwood got mumps. My father, Morton, went on to France. Arrived September 4 at Archangle, Russia, June 27 1919 shipped out, discharged 26 July 1919. Morton was discharged 14 June 1919.

December 5, 1990 The Courier, Findlay, Ohio
Ingall Recalls World War I Service In Russia

Photo (omitted) by Joyce Gordon McBride, Staff Writer

HAROLD INGALL, World War I veteran, receives his honorary life membership card from Bob Frederick, commander of VFW Post 5645.

To say that Harold Ingall of Findlay went beyond the call of duty during his military service in World War I is no exaggeration.

When the war ended, Ingall was stationed to northern Russia. "We were down at the front. We were in the sticks, really," he recalled.

"Transportation was the interesting part of it. We just had a two-wheel horse cart - just a box cart. It wasn't easy riding," he said.

"'We were away from our base, probably quite a few miles. Nobody came over to tell us that the war had ended (on Nov. 11, 1918). We were due back at Christmas, so they told us then," he said.

Ingall said the happy news outweighed any frustration his unit might otherwise have felt about the six-week delay to finding out about the end of the war.

“There wasn't anything bad about it. We were happy because we thought there might be a chance we'd get home sometime," he added with a smile.

Ingall is one of fewer than ten living American veterans out of the 5500 soldiers who served in North Russia during World War I, estimates historian Stan Bozich, director of the Michigan’s Own Military and Space Museum in Frankenmuth, Mich.

Ingall's uniform is included in a rotating display in the museum's

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“Polar Bear" room. The soldiers had nicknamed themselves "The Polar Bears" due to the weather conditions they endured in Russia.

Ingall and the other remaining veterans will be featured in an article on North Russia to appear in the January issue of the national VFW Magazine.

As a gift from local Veterans of Foreign Wars Post 6866, Ingall received an honorary life membership from Bob Frederick, post commander; Ray Reutter, senior vice commander; and Dave Decker, quartermaster.

The presentation took place Monday afternoon at Senior Towers where Ingall and his wife Ruth are residents.

Ingall, born April 20, 1895 in Morenci, Mich., graduated from High School at the age of 19. He then Joined the Army and was sent to Camp Custar in Battle Creek, Mich.

"We went to New York for a little bit, then they shipped us overseas," Ingall recalls, "We went directly to England, but we didn't stay long there. We went to France a little bit. Then we went around North Cape (past Norway) to north Russia. Archangel was the city, at the very mouth of Dvina Bay."

Ingall was an official photographer for the First Battalion of the 310th Engineers Battalion which was attached to the 339th Infantry Regiment. This regiment was nick. named "Detroit's Own" as many of its members had been drafted from the Detroit area, according to Bozihch.

Ingall photographed locations along the Obozerskaya railroad front and the Dvina River. He also took officers' portraits. Ingall had previous experience in photography, hang taken up the profession in high school.

"It was 'The Land of the Midnight Sun' they used to say. It was kind of cold in the winter. I remember walling down the street and they told me it was 50 below. That was the lowest I heard while I was there. Of course it wasn't that low all winter. It didn't take me long to get where I was going that day," he said with a laugh.

Ingall says he was not in active fighting all of the time he was In Russia. "I guess we were supposed to be holding the Bolsheviks back - for whatever reason. I don't know. Come to find out later, nobody knew what we were supposed to be doing," he said.

"When we first went down to the front, I remember sleeping in private homes. People would take you in. Eventually we were supposed to be on our own. Once I slept on top of a granary. We didn't take our overcoats off to sleep," he said.

Because they were isolated, some of the groups in North Russia were not immediately informed of the war's. end, according to historian Stan Bozich.

"Some of the biggest battles started on the day the war ended. They were in combat in North Russia for nine straight months, seven of which the war was already over. They were frozen in and couldn't get out. They had to hold their own and still fight the Russians," Bazich explained.

When Ingall was able to return home, he accepted a job in Ohio. For 37 years, he operated his own photography studio - Ingall Studio -which was located in the 400 block of South Main Street.

Ingall was involved in the establishment of Senior Towers. "I helped plan the thing a little bit," he said.

VFW Commander Bob Frederick who helped make the presentation to Ingall was among the workers who constructed Senior Towers over 16 years ago. "I probably watched you work," Ingall said to Frederick with a laugh.

Asked his opinion on the Persian Gulf situation, Ingall quietly stated, "It's kind of ridiculous, I think." Quartermaster Dave Decker echoed Ingall's opinion, adding that many veterans feel the Desert Shield operation does not justify the cutting of benefits for veterans, the homeless, the needy, and persons on Social Security.

"If they're going to spend money on these countries, for whatever reason, we feel they ought to be spending money first on the ones over here who need it. Give them a chance," Decker said.

OHIO POST RECRUITS POLAR BEAR

Post 5645 of Findlay, Ohio has a real claim to fame. On Dec. 3, 1990, Post Commander Robert A. Frederick and Post Quartermaster David D. Decker presented Harold Ingall, 95, with a Life Membership.

Ingall is only one of about 10 surviving veterans of the North Russia Expedition of 1918-19. Her served as photographer for the 310th Engineer Battalion, following the unit along the railroad front and the Dvina River.

“I traveled by two-wheeled horse-drawn wagons and helped make block-houses and defenses from pine trees. Then I took pictures,” he says. “I also had the opportunity to stay in some Russian homes and experience the hospitality of peasant families.”

“As a proud Polar Bear it is a pleasure to become a Life Member of the Veterans of Foreign Wars,” he said.

Said Commander Frederick, “It’s quite a thrill to enroll such a distinguished veteran.” Post 5645, chartered in 1957, was renamed Barry D. Lord Post in 1968 in memory of a local resident killed in Vietnam.

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OBITUARIES

RUSSEL BAYLOR, husband of Geraldine Wanda Hulbert (2800-12), was killed in a car accident on 18 December 1990, NY. Survived by Geraldine and son, Russell James, Jr.

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KENNETH C. INGLES, of Vestaburg, MI, died Friday, Services 11 a.m. 28 January 1991 at M-46 Tabernacle. Arrangements by Schnepp Funeral Home, Crystal.

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ESTHER LOUISE INGALLS RICHARDS (2844-10), Holland; NY died 26 June 1990 in California. She was the daughter of Raymond Emmett Ingalls and Margaret Carol Kurtz, born 25 May 1895 Stevens Mills, NY. Married Harold Joseph Richards 26 June 1925. Children: Arland Mason, Jeannette Esther and Raydene Margaret.

This information came to me in a copy of a January 1991 letter prepared by Jeannette Wilbur. She writes "She and Daddy would have been married 66 years June 26. She spent two months with Arland out of the cold of New York when she suffered a heart attack. She rallied well, and we talked and planned for her homecoming. But Mummie was tired out. Worn out. As it became more apparent Mum just would not be coming home, I flew out again to take her out of the nursing home to Arland and Maxine's apartment ...Russ and I had a Memorial Service here in our little Arcade church and the sanctuary was packed with loving hearts of kinfolk and neighbors and friends.

All shared bits and pieces of remembrances and we'd laugh a lot and cry a lot. What precious time of sharing! Mummie would have loved it!

The Drexler family and friends had a grave-side service for her, in Maine where Daddy is already buried. That, perhaps, was the most difficult, for it seemed so final. But what Mummie stood for and was and said will live on every day as a strong part of all of us. We are all rich for having had the privilege of knowing her.

In 1985, I ran a copy of an article on ESTHER INGALLS RICHARDS.. a few months after she turned 90, she headed for home - beginning a gradual, 70-mile journey on foot to the house where she was born in the tiny Steuben County hamlet of Stevens Mills NY. Esther did complete this journey!

Some lines from Esther's 90th birthday message:

1. Be born into a family of long "livers."
2. Don't take chances with safety.
3. Eat to Live, Don't live to eat.
4. Be useful and friendly to yourself and everyone around you.
5. Choose cheerfulness as a way of life.
6. Don't ever stop dreaming and working toward those dreams.
7. Allow God to run your life, for He is your best Friend. Talk to Him all day long as You work and play - AND - You'll live forever.
"I'll look for you in Heaven"

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Thanks to Ms. Pennie Redmile, Montreal (Quebec) Canada for sharing this article George Homer Ingalls B#4482, written in 1953. Reprinted with permission of Olive Ingalls and the Brome County History Society. Olive notes about the road being named INGALLS. My dad was councilor and Mayor of the township of Sutton for years. First as councilor then as mayor. I guess a lot of the roads get the name from the same people living on them for years. I think it is a nice way to do ... Thank you, Olive, for sharing your family genealogy with us!

Ingalls

written by George Homer Ingalls in 1953

George N. and Alice (Payne) Ingalls, Abercorn (photo courtesy of Miss Olive Ingalls )

About one hundred or more years ago James Ingalls settled near Sutton near the Pinnacle. He was my great grandfather. He had seven children, some of the children went to the United States and settled there. George Ingalls my grandfather settled on a farm at Abercorn. He did blacksmith work and also wheelwright work. My father, Homer James Ingalls bought the farm where I live now about 75 years ago. He lived here until I was married and bought the farm from him. My brother and sisters were all born here on the farm and I have lived all my life here but a few years spent working on farms in Vermont. On April 11, 1906 I married Alice Elizabeth Payne daughter of John and Sarah Payne of Abercorn, Que. My wife and I have two daughters, Olive Ethel Ingalls and Dorothy Sarah Ingalls. Dorothy married Miner E. Burnett of Glen Sutton. They have two daughters and a son.

We keep registered Jersey cattle. We have about 80 head at the present time. We have a large sugar place. We have about 5,350 buckets so it means lots of work in the springtime. We have two pipe lines that

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run the sap from the woods down to the sugarhouse. It saves the horses a lot of hard work. We have about 2,500 feet of pipe with both the lines. I built a cement storage lank to hold the sap. It is 4 ft. high, 18 ft. long and 8 fl. wide. It keeps the sap very well. It holds about 2,600 gallons.

The electric line was put past here about 3 years ago. It is a great help to farmers, especially in the barn. We have an electric milk cooler now. Before we had electricity we used to have to put up ice as we ship our cream to Montreal. We used to cut it on the river and had to draw it up the hills. After a few years I made 2 ponds. I made them both between two ledges one on each side of the brook. I put the cement dam from one to the other. One is about 40 ft. wide and 200 ft. long. The outer one is smaller. Making the dams between the rocks saved the labour of digging them. There is an outlet in the bottom of each one through the dam, that has to be opened each summer if not they would fill with mud as the years went by. On these ponds we could cut plenty of ice for ourselves and as many of the neighbours as wanted it. The way we used to store the ice when we put it up was by cutting it in cakes about 16 inches square. It was then packed in the ice house and some snow put around it and then a thick layer of sawdust. It usually kept very well. One year I remember in particular, the United Church at Stilton wanted to have a sugar on snow social in July or August. When

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we put the ice up we left a place in the center and filled it with snow. In the summer when the social was held the snow had kept very well and there was plenty of it.

I was asked to act as councillor for the Township of Sutton in Feb. 1927. I served as councillor until Nov. 1946 when I became Mayor on the death of Percy Bresee who had been Mayor for a number of years. It was my great pleasure to be Mayor of the Township of Sutton in August of last year (1952) when Sutton held its Sesquicentennial Celebration. It was a large celebration and I was very pleased to take part in it.

In October 1949 the Junior Girls' Institute of Sutton gave a town clock as a memorial to the men from Sutton who fought in the last two

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wars. The clock was formally presented to the councils of the Village and Township of Sutton by Mrs. Lyle Bresee. George Ingalls, mayor of the Township of Sutton, spoke of the pleasure of the council in accepting the memorial. Mayor J. L. Deslieres gave an appreciation address.

The Ingalls Family Tree

The name is of Scandinavian origin and derived from Ingialld. During the ninth century Scandinavian pirates often descended on the east coast of Great Britain and in after years many of this nationality made settlement here, especially in Lincolnshire.

These people were a partly seafaring race owing to the nature of their country, but under changed conditions of environment settled down to tilling the soil. The earliest record found is that of the will of Henry Ingalls, grandfather of Edmund and made in 1555. He probably having been born about 1480. The name of Ingalls is still common in England. The etymology of the name is "By the power of Thor." The Doomsday book records a Baron Ingald, a tenant of the King William at Rersbi and Elnestone, Lancastershire A.D. 1080 who came from Normandy.

DANIEL INGALLS

Son of John and Flizabeth (Copp) Ingalls, born Canterbury, New Hampshire, April 7, 1775, married Polly, (daughter of David and Tamar Nutting of Plattsburg, New York) on Jan. 1, 1802. She was born Jan 1, 1786, - -- died April 14, 1866. He moved to St. Armand, Quebec and died there June 10, 1881.

Daniel's children:

James b. Aug. 31, 1802 m. Electra Sanborn

Sarah b. June 18, 1804 m. Nov. 7, 1825 to John Searle d. Sept. 15, 1852

Pauline b. April 9, 1806 m. June 20, 1825 to Rosif Blanchard d. Aug. 20, 1849

Charlotte b. Mar. 23, 1808 not married

Aliah b. Mar. 21, 1810 m. Stephen Kellum of Albany, N.Y. d. Sept. 14, 1868

Fannie b. May 13, 1812

Daniel Drummond b. July 8, 1815 m. Dec. 15, 1840 Diadama Arms d. May 2, 1854

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Olive b. Feb. 5, 1818 d. June 1847 m. Abram Fonda of Troy, N.Y.

Sophronia b. Sept. 23, 1820

Laura b. Jan 26, 1822 m. July 19, 1845 to John Cameron

Cordelia Dorcas b. May 7, 1826 m. June 30, 1850 William Wentworth d. July 23, 1894 at West Medford, Mass.

Emeline b. May 14, 1829 d. Sept. 10, 1830

JAMES INGALLS

Son of Daniel and Polly (Nutting) Ingalls born Canaan, New Hampshire, Aug. 31, 1802 married Electra Sanborn, b. July 18, 1803 d. Sept. 24, 1895

James b. 1802 was a farmer, settled at St. Armand, Quebec, Canada. He is buried at Abercorn, Que. in the old cemetery.

James' children:

1. Lucy b. Aug. 29, 1825 m. 1st Mar. 22, 1848 to William Rohenwald of Montreal they had one daughter who died age 15. 2nd Dec. 28, 1869 to Andrew Truax lived at Lynn, Mass. Buried at Abercorn, Quebec

2. Sophronia b. Nov. 13, 1827 m. Dec. 24, 1849 to Owen Fox, they lived at Lynn, Mass. Owen died at Lynn, Mass. Sept. 16, 1895

3. George Rex b. Dec. 27, 1830 m. Caroline Maria (Bresee) Janes. She was born May 15, 1829 He was a wheelwright, blacksmith and farmer at Abercorn, Quebec d. July 17, 1899

We will follow only the line of George Rex b. 1830 and his wife Caroline (Bresee) James.

Their children:

I Homer James b. Aug. 6, 1854 m. 1st Mar. 9, 1878 Mary Ann daughter of Edwin L. and Hannah Watson Hope. Mary Ann was born Dec. 7, 1859.

Homer was a farmer in Abercorn.

Their children:

1) Hattie Eugene b. Oct. 15, 1879 m. 1903 Floyd Sargent d. Oct. 23, 1951

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Children: Alice b. 1904; Vera b. Dec. 2, 1906; James 1910-1928; Malcolm; Homer b. May 21, 1915 m. Olive Richard, children: Richard, Gary, Randall; Basil b. 1918 m. 1st Allene Butler b. 1939, children: Shirley, Phyllis, m. 2nd Gwendolyn Evans. children: Shirley, Donna, Gregory, Lori, Nancy, Reginald; Dale b. Feb. 8, 1920 m. Claudia Sherrer, children: Clayton, James, Stanley.

2) Lucy Amelia b. Nov. 13, 1883 m. 1st Howard Norton, children: Hazel b. June 29, 1905 m. George Draper, children: Elmer, Rosina, Joyce, Janet and Arvadella; Homer b. Feb. 20, 1907 m. Luella Smith, children: Marilyn, Janet, Homer, Raymond, Kevin, Sandra; m. 2nd Leon Wentworth.

3) George Homer b. May 14, 1886 m. Alice Payne, daughter of John and Sarah Payne April 11, 1906, d. June 8, 1967 children: Olive b. June 19, 1914; Dorothy b. Sept. 18, 1921 m. 1st May 31, 1916 Miner Burnett, he died Oct. 9, 1965, children: . . . (living people omitted) m. 2nd Benjamin Reid.

4) Edwin Hope b. June 20, 1887 m. Agnes Lawlor 1914. He worked over 30 years for the C.P.R. He died June 15, 1950. his wife died August 1967.

5) Ethel Persis b. Sept. 4, 1889 m. Harry Redmile, a miner, children: Mary, Harry, Katherine.

6) Myrtle Caroline b. June 28, 1892 d. Dec. 6 1973 m. Philip Alonzo Sweet, children: Douglas b. Feb. 29, 1912 m. 1st Myrtle Aseltine, m. 2nd Opal Scherrer they had one son Kennth b. Mar. 9, 1915 who was drowned June 1933; Angelina b. Feb. 20, 1921 m. Loren Sherrer, children: (living child omitted); George b. April, 1923 m. Frances Clough, Children: Phyllis and Diane.

7) Llewlyn b. Aug. 31, 1893 d. 1893.

Homer James b. 1854 m. 2nd Ruth Page of Sherbrooke, Que. Aug. 6, 1902. Children: Ruth and Ruby, twins, b. July 30, 1904; Lella b. June 26, 1907 d. Feb. 2, 1976 m. Trenholme Coote, children: Ralph m. Elizabeth Anderson, children: Scott and Allison; Barbara, deceased.

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II Lella Emma b. Nov. 4, 1857 m. Lemuel Wing who predeceased her, children: Gertrude m. Mr. Fourt; Myrtle m. Mr. Mason, Carrie m. Mr. Clark.

III Allen Hammond b. Nov. 19, 1860 d. Aug. 4, 1948 m. Isabelle Jacobs. He was a farmer at Abercorn, Que., children: Grace Ethel b. Oct. 7, 1882, deceased; Blanche Lillian b. Nov. 5, 1889 d. Aug. 30, 1952; Frances Lorenzo b. Jan. 30, 1894 d. d. Dec. 1981, m. Belle Thompson, child: Arthur m. Ona O'Brien of Richford, Vt. They live in Richford, no children; Ernest Ellmore and Arthur Allen, twins b. July 6, 1896. Arthur died in France in 1917 in 1st World War. Ernest and his wife had two children: Evelyn married and lives in Conn.; Albert married and lives in Burlington, Vt.; Isabelle Lunetta (Nellie) b. July 26, 1902, m. Kennison Mudgett, no children.

IV Burton George b. Aug. 15, 1868 d. June 1934, m. Maude McClarty, Feb. 5, 1896, children: Bertha b. Nov. 20, 1896 m. Harold Knight, children: Mary b. April 11, 1922 d. Oct. 14, 1936, Woodbury b. Jan. 19, 1926 m. Loda Fuller; Lloyd b. Aug. 14, 1898 d. July 1947 m. Edna Richards, child: Arline b. Sept. 14, 1924, m. 1st Nicholas Bleser, children: (living children omitted); Aline m. 2nd. William Rogerson of Richford, Vt.; Bruce b. June 2, 1902 m. Florence Oliver of Richford Vt., children: Hollis b. Mar. 24, 1924 had three sons, lives in Richford, Vt.; Kathleen b. Aug. 31, 1925 deceased; Kline b. July 4, 1928 m. Barbara Titcombe; Raymond m. Frances Hodgeson of England, lived in New York Sate, children: (living children omitted).

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Pennie Redmile also enclosed the folder on FORT INGALL. It is down near the New Brunswick border in Quebec, Canada. Thanks again, Pennie!

Opening Hours
Open June 24 to Labour Day, seven days a week from 9:30 a.m. to 8:00 p.m.
During off season (May, June, September and October) visits by reservation only.

Services offered at Fort Ingall
Cantine
Souvenir Shop
Picnic area
Playground
Guided tours on request

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Fort Ingall: 1839-1842

In the early 19th century, a border dispute broke out between the Americans and the British. At stake were the rich forests of the Témiscouata-Madawaska region. The border dispute endangered Britain’s exclusive control over an invaluable route: the Portage Trail. With both sides adhering firmly to their positions, the British army undertook the construction of several military fortresses, the larges of which was Fort Ingall.

Military men at Fort Ingall

Were you aware that soldiers joined the army for life, toiled seven days a week or shared their living quarters with women and children? These are but a few details of the British soldier’s everyday existence. If you would like to know more about garrison life, pay a visit to Fort Ingalls.

Fort Ingalls: Discovering a Historical Site

Fort Ingall was a field fortification made of timber. Archaeological excavations and historical research carried out over a number of years contributed greatly to the reconstruction of the fort, which, incidentally, is the only one of its kind in Quebec. The Fort Ingall exhibition recounts a fascinating and, at times, astonishing story.

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Thanks to Everett L. Ingalls, New Orleans LA for the following article on the running of the "Crescent City Classic" (10K, 10,000 meters, 6.2 miles) is scheduled for April 1991. The race run by 30,000+ from all over the world starts in the French quarter near St. Louis Cathedral and ends in Audubon Park, passing by many beautiful old homes in the Garden District (in the "uptown area".) Note -- I walk it!

Jim Ingalls (the ultra-marathoner) and wife, Margaret and probably daughter Yvonne, plan to be here again and some of the others. One grandson from LSU will do, but his cousin (also at LSU) won't make it this time, as he is enroute to the Middle East.

This year we'll do it as a memorial to Mary Louise INGALLS who passed away 15 September 1990. Her inoperable cancer was diagnosed in May and prognosis very negative - yet she was a fighter and underwent chemotherapy throughout the summer, holding her own until September. The family and I helped her as we could (it was pitifully little) - we miss her - only 43 years. (Everett L. Ingalls, Sr.)

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MARY LOUISE INGALLS, B1576-13, daughter of Everett Lee Ingalls and Mary Lou Husband, was born 7 August 1947, Muskegon MI and died September 1990 LA, age 43 years. Married Ronald Joseph Thornton 12 October 1968, New Orleans, LA.

FIRST TIME OUT by

LOUISE INGALLS-THORNTON

FOR DAD

Your never ending sense of humor, forever laced with just a touch of sarcasm, has goaded me over the years into striving always in spite of the mountains.

Merry Christmas, Dad. December, 1989

(DAD is Everett L. Ingalls, Sr.)

Why am I here? Oh God, why did I do it? It's freezing cold and the sun was slow coming up. In a few minutes I'm going to have to strip down to my shorts. I decide not to. It's too cold and besides I don't want all these people to see my legs. Why does it have to be so cold? I'm standing here trying to look nonchalant but inside my heart is racing and my stomach is jumping and doing the jitter-bug. I glance around at all the people, nobody else seems concerned. A few are doing stretching exercises. A few knotted little groups have their heads together talking quietly. Several people are tying and re-tying their shoes. There are long lines in front of the port-a-lets. We've gone twice already just to be sure. My brother strips down to his shorts and hands me his clothes. "You can carry these for me," he says, "since you're walking." I hear the P.A. system crackle and then a voice. But I can't quite make out what the man's saying. People start to move,

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bunching together, I try to work my way up toward the front of our group without offending anyone. Suddenly the gun goes off and the crowd surges forward. It takes a good ten seconds for my feet to catch up with my heart. Excitement ripples through the crowd and everyone is moving but not going anywhere. It's the Crescent City Classic. How did I get into this?

Let's start at the beginning.

I have an insane brother who resides in Texas. His greatest joy in life is running ultra marathons. I truly believe all runners are a bit crazy. When we got together in New Orleans for the holidays, good old Dad suggested that he come back to visit and run the CCC in April. My brother got all fired up and said it was a world class race and he would come run it if Dad would walk it. Dad countered with the comment that he would walk it if I would walk it with him. I was set up. I'm a world class couch potato and was leery of the whole idea, but being an agreeable sort, I didn't want to spoil their fun. I was immediately bombarded with all sorts of training tips and returned to my home in Lafayette, La. feeling most optimistic. The pain I encountered on trying to walk a mile the first night defied imagination, but I persevered for about one week, until one fateful night at eleven p.m. while walking in a freezing rain, a passing car hit a puddle and I was drenched. I decided this whole training business was the pits and retired to my couch. My training became more and more sporadic. My Dad called several times long-distance to check on my progress. He would ask how the training was coming and I would always reply, "Great Dad, just great. I'll be ready." Then he sent the dreaded entry form in the mail. I sat and looked at it for a while, reading all the fine print about being in shape and having properly trained for the event and then signed anyway.

We came across the river on the ferry this morning with everyone double checking everyone else, making sure we hadn't forgotten anything. Granola bars, Ascriptin tablets, toilet paper. Seemed like a lot of extra bother to me. But my brother assured me it was all necessary. Dad insisted that we all check our race numbers one more time. And we all gazed in awe at my brother's A group number. We then hid our W group numbers and took turns wearing my brother's A around the ferry to impress other runners.

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So that's how it all began and so the time has come. Here I am and the excitement has taken hold of me. Everybody, thousands of everybody, shuffling along, packed shoulder to shoulder, seemingly going nowhere. I love the pace. Then slowly the crowd starts to thin as the faster ones move out ahead. Bands are playing, people are cheering. I can feel my heart swelling. I am so proud to be a part of this. We walk on. And on and on and on. My left hip is starting to ache and my feet hurt. I tell myself nothing goes on forever, everything ends sometime. And we keep walking. Finally I glance down and see a white line running across the street and turn slowly and smile at Dad. He grins at me and says, "Hey we made it to the starting line. Here we go." I think about throwing up and pleading illness but decide not to let Dad down. I march on. I try to watch the cheering crowds, the walkers in their wild costumes, anything to take my mind off my feet and screaming hip. It seems to help a little. The whole scene reminds me of a walking, moving party. My Dad starts fussing about my pace and wants to slow down. I just want to get the agony over with and am also becoming a little concerned about how thin the crowd is behind us. About that time an old man hobbles by us and laughs, "Least I'm not last anymore." "What's he talking about," my Dad says and looks around. The police car is bumping us on the rump. My Dad grabs my arm and yanks me out of the street screaming, "Get out of the way, get out of the way! There's a cop car coming through." I reply, "Dad, I think he's bringing up the rear." Well Dad starts moving then, nobody wants to be dead last out of twenty-some thousand people. We pass hundreds and keep going. We pass some more and my hip finally quits complaining around the two mile mark. I begin to think I might be able to do this after all. We are passing them, dodging groups by cutting up on the sidewalks. We grab cups of water on the move just like the pros, but I find it’s not easy drinking and walking without breaking my stride, and end up with more on me than in me. We finally reach the half-way mark and Dad bemoans the absence of port-a-lets. I tried reasoning with him. Surely port-a-lets at the half-way mark would hold up the race if ten thousand people had to stand in line. He admitted that it was silly, considering that most of the runners have already finished the race, people aren't supposed to make pit stops. And so we walk on and on. Meeting and greeting each mile marker as a major accomplishment and as a

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personal friend. The crowds are great, people are offering mixed drinks as well as encouragement. Dad resists temptation knowing cold beer will be waiting at the finish. We keep walking, dodging sprinklers, we don't need cooling down, though the fast pace has certainly taken the chill off. We are about a and my foot starts to feel funny. The ball of in a strange gritty, grinding way and I'm sure Will this never end? My brother's clothes are weighing me down. I tie them around my waist and then move them around my neck. I debate with myself, should I accidently lose them or not. I keep smiling at Dad and egging him on, but on the inside I feel like I have died and gone to hell. Dad is looking a little red in the face and is panting. "Take shorter faster steps, Dad, it doesn't hurt so bad that way," I offer. He's not smiling so much anymore. I'm a mile from the finish my left foot is hurting it's starting to blister. I’m sure now the bottom of my foot is sloughing off, and I'm going to be crippled for life. I just keep picking them up and putting them down. We're in the park now but I still can't line. Where is it? I feel cheated. They said the race ended at the park. I stagger a little and glance at Dad to see if he notices. No problem, he's kind of weaving too, wrapped up in his own private battle. Now we can see the finish line just up ahead there, just a little more. My foot is throbbing and demanding to be excused from this ordeal, the crowd is a blur. I'm sure I'm probably the only person in the world who has "hit the wall" walking. A voice is trying to intrude, and I try to lift my mind out of its stupor. Suddenly I realize Dad is saying, “We did it.'" He grabs my hand and lifts my arm in victory as we pass under the time clock. My waiting brother pats me on the back and says, "Piece of cake, huh Sis?" I don't say anything. I probably won't speak to any of them for a long, long time. Now my foot is really upset, I just found out we have to walk another mile or so (uphill) to get our coveted T-shirts. I don't even slow up, I just keep walking. I know if I stop I'll never move again. I finally get through the crowds and receive my shirt. Slowly I sink to the ground and remove my shoe. I gently peel my sock off. Total amazement, the bottom of my foot is still there. I look at my sister and say, "Never, ever, ever again."

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That was in 1987, and despite the pain, the hassles at the shuttle buses, and complaints over cheaters, who don't really go the distance, my family has managed to set me up over and over. We went back in 1988 and 1989. Every year I swear never ever again, but when the 1990 CCC rolls around I'm sure the gang and I will be right back out there, rain or shine. They'll coerce me with phrases like, "Dad needs you to pace him, we can't do it without you, and it's a family tradition now."

What started out as a challenge thrown in 1987 and five family members participating, Dad, a sister, a brother, his wife and myself, has grown into a family tradition with three carloads of family and friends from across the country in 1989 facing the challenge. And who knows what 1990 will bring. How many more friends and family members will be bitten by the bug. My training though still sporadic has improved and I'm slowly over the years getting in better shape through it all. And deep down inside I have a little spark that can't help but enjoy it. I know without a doubt if I'm living and breathing, I'll be standing at that starting line again next year saying, "Oh God, what am I doing here?

Obituaries

Bellevue WA Journal, Nov. 12, 1990
Toni Louise Ingle, Kirkland resident

Funeral services for Toni Louise Ingle, 22, will be held Tuesday at 1 p.m. at Rose Hill Presbyterian Church, 12202 N.E. 90th, in Kirkland. Visitation will be today from 2 p.m. to 7 p.m. and on Tuesday from 9 a.m. to noon at Green's Kirkland Funeral Home chapel.

Born on May 11, 1968 in Stuttgart, Germany, Ms. Ingle was a presser at Rainbow Dry Cleaners in Woodinville. She was a Lake Washington High School Drill Team member between 1984 and 1986 and also a member of the school's diving team.

She was an avid dart player, liked to ski and was an animal lover. Surviving Ms. Ingle are her parents, Carol and Arthur Ingle of Kirkland; her brother, Thomas Ingle of Kirkland; her sister, Tami Moir of Woodinville; and her grandparents, Margaret and Ralph Tate of Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, Alma Ingle of Seattle and David and Rose Ingle of Renton.

Memorials may be made to the Woodland Park Zoo or Redmond's 911 chaplains.

Seattle Times, Fri Nov 9, 1990
Kirkland woman dies in car crash

KIRKLAND--A 22-year-old Kirkland woman was killed early this morning when her car went out of control and slammed into a utility pole in Redmond.

Toni Ingle was killed outright when her car struck the pole in the 13400 block of the Old Redmond Road shortly after 1 a.m., according to Redmond police. The driver's side of the car hit the pole broadside, police said. She was traveling east at the time.

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(Continued from last issue - LINDA INGALLS WRIGHT'S 1990 - A YEAR FOR TRAVELING Linda has once again been traveling in pursuit of her roots. This gives you some idea of the time and energy she spends in her travels. Thanks, Linda, for sharing your travelogue with others!)

Our next historical stop was the George Washington Carver birthplace site near Joplin, MO. We took the nature walk and enjoyed the many sites along the way. Vandalism has also left its mark here at the cemetery.

Wednesday morning dawned quite overcast and didn't take much to change to rain for our anticipated visit to Mansfield, MO and the home and museum of Laura Ingalls Wilder. However, we didn't let the drops deter us too much. This was my second time visiting the LIW homesite and Carol's first. For those of you who haven't made it yet, you'd be amazed at the ingenuity of Almanzo and how he constructed their home to meet their needs and especially compensate for Laura's height by scaling down the kitchen and other areas. I was disappointed in the gift shop not having some items I thought were more practical than others that they didn't carry any more. In talking to the new curator, it seems others have also been disappointed to the point that some of the items will be brought back.

It was still raining when we left Mansfield and headed south through the Ozarks to our "do or die" final Ingalls town hidden somewhere in the middle of a national forest in south central AR. You'd have thought we were running moonshine the way we traveled through those mountains! We did take a late lunch break since we hadn't had any trout on this trip and found a fantastic restaurant overhanging the White River. It was a museum in itself. Back on the road again, it just seemed like it would take us forever to reach our destination, but we persevered. Can we help it that it was pitch black when we got there so we didn't see too much except the community signs. Every time we took a turn onto a new road to close in on this AR community of Ingalls, the road seemed to get narrower and the woods closer. We did catch a glimpse of a sign high up in a pine tree that mentioned a hunting club in Ingalls. We, or I, will have to check this one out again!

That only leaves one more Ingalls town and Ingalls park, IL to visit to put them all under my belt. Look out MI. I might make it next year. Carol and I had previously been to and through Ingalls, NC and I have been to Ingalls, IN. The most exciting so far, have been KS and OK.

It was after midnight before we got to our motel. The next day and a half saw us just heading home through LA, AL and the panhandle on rough and bumpy I-10 to Tallahassee, FL. We stayed with Lee and Judy Young, long-time friends of Carol and got caught up on as much   news as possible in a short time. We made it home on Saturday after covering 5775 miles, give or take one or two! Carol stayed overnight and went on to Vero Beach.

On August 2nd, I was off again, this time to Clayton, GA to get ready to host the group of friends Bobby and I went to Africa with a couple of years ago. Bobby was to follow on Friday with two of our friends and the rest were to arrive on Saturday with the exception of one couple who would meet us after our first day’s outing.

Back in November of 1989, my mom and I went to Clayton

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to map out an itinerary for this group. We ran into all sorts of weather conditions: rain, hail, fog and snow as we went about our task. This is what we had mapped out for the ARII group (that's African Reunion II).

Beginning August 5th, we traveled to Stone Mt. GA. We rode the train around the mountain and then 6 of us rode the cable car up to the top of the mountain while two of our party decided to walk up. The walkers were waiting for us when we got to the top! After leaving Stone Mt., we rendezvoused with the last couple and headed back to Clayton.

Monday saw us heading to Asheville, NC to the Biltmore Estate and a tour of the “house" and winery. Only about 65 rooms were opened for touring!

Tuesday we went mining for rubies, garnets, sapphires and miscellaneous rocks! Everyone found a few baubles to take home for show and tell.

Wednesday was a day for those who like to SHOP-TIL-THEY DROP in Helen, GA, a small replica of a German town.

If you like eating home-style, a must is the Dillard House in Dillard, GA. Make sure you go hungry as the food is just abundant. We hit one breakfast and one dinner. What a feast.

Thursday we hit the road for Cherokee, NC and the Indian reservation. Some of us went to the Indian museum; the Indian village that showed how they worked and lived 100-200 years ago; and/or shopped for souvenirs to take home to family and friends. That evening we had reservations to see the evening outdoor performance of "Unto These Hills" at the amphitheater. It was the story of how the Indians were forced to leave their homes and forced to march/walk to Oklahoma to a reservation and how thousands died along the way. Another must if you are in the area during the summer months.

Friday August 10 saw the departure at varying intervals of seven of our group of ten. Saturday saw the rest of us depart and I was on my way to Chattanooga, TN to get my mom. Remember, Carol and I had dropped her off there back in July when we started out on our so journey. I spent a couple of nights at my aunt's, then my mom and I headed for FL on Monday.

After two weeks at home, I had finally decided I was ready to do my thing in New England. Off I went again. By this time I'm spoiling myself and to save a few days and a few hundred miles wear and tear on my car, I'm riding the auto train. I hop on about 40 minutes from my house, my car goes in another train car and we mosey up the coast to Lorton, VA just a few miles south of Washington, DC. The train departs Sanford, FL at 4:30 pm and arrives in Lorton at 9 am the next morning. It's not too bad if you can take sleeping in a coach seat (by yourself if you are lucky) and some of the unruly kids that sometimes wind up in your car (train, that is). I enjoy the train ride and naturally it's a round trip fare.

Just a couple hours up the road from Lorton, VA is my dad's house in Wilmington, DE. It's not a bad ride if you

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don't let the traffic get to you. Spent a couple days with my dad, Fred Chandler Ingalls- (B220-10, B3115-11). We went walking at a nearby park, played disc golf, went to an evening outdoor concert featuring a barbershop quartet and just visited.

Moving on up the road, I was headed toward Needham, MA, but decided to make an unexpected visit to the wife of one of my dad's first cousins, Sally Elizabeth (Swiderski) Kapinos Ingalls. I only gave her about 15 minutes' warning because I didn't want her to put on a spread and I just wanted to say hi and let her know her relatives in FL still thought about her even though our correspondence wasn't too regular. Blow that short visit! Three hours later I was finally back on the road to MA only to discover a few miles down the road that I had left my purse at Sally's and had to double back to get it. Another missed turn and I would have had to figure out how to get back to Sally's from the NJ Turnpike. Thank heaven for small favors.

Sally had tried to get hold of her son to see if he could put the NJ highway patrol on my tail. Thank goodness he was "out of the office." Blue light specials aren't my favorite things! I got my purse and said goodbye again.

Finally arrived in Needham, MA at cousin Con's (Constance Lucy Knight (B3120-10). She was turning 80 on 02 Sep and I wanted to be there to help her celebrate. Since she'd had eye surgery earlier in August, we kept the partying low-key but dragged it out over a couple of days by going out to dinner on Sat. and church and dinner on Sun. She had received many cards, a pretty bouquet of flowers and some phone calls. A nice low-key weekend for a birthday and quiet visiting.

On Sunday afternoon, 02 Sep 1990, I left MA and headed for Cranston, RI for a visit with friends. I had received an invitation to attend a reception for my friend's (Gloria(Soderberg) Low) daughter (Dawn(Low) Jones), who had married in Vermont. It was being held at grandma's (Ebba Soderberg) house, on the street where I lived for 3 years before moving to FL (in 1950).

After visiting for a couple of hours, I dashed down the street to visit another childhood friend Walter Francis Pickford and his wife, Marilyn, before taking off for Lunenburg, MA for my night's lodging.

It's amazing how lost one can get (I call it "taking the scenic route" but at night it's just plain disorientation!) especially at night in unfamiliar terrain. I finally arrived at my cousin's (Merrilyn Faye (Ingalls) Bergier) and before I could put my foot in the door, she wanted to know if I was ready to go! I said "yes" and off we went, Merrilyn, Christopher Thomas Bergier (her son) and me. We were headed to our favorite ice cream spot about 30 minutes away. Mind you it's around nine o'clock at night. I can't remember the name of the place, but the building is shaped like a barn and has 10-12 windows for order taking. Even at that time of night, it was pretty congested. After consuming our scrumptious treat, we headed home and talked until the wee hours of the morning.

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After finally rising and shining and breakfast and lunch, we proceeded to attempt to load my car with Christopher's things to take him back to college. He attends Boston University on an ROTC scholarship and plans to major in aeronautical engineering. Our conversations eventually drift around to his trying to explain to me how planes fly and my explaining to him who's related to whom and how we are related, first cousins, once removed. I think he's catching on faster than I am!

Off we headed for downtown Boston and Boston University. After driving around the area a few times, we managed to find a place to park the car. I stayed with the car while Merrilyn and Christopher went to sign in and check out his room. It took about 3 trips with a laundry cart to get everything we had crammed into my car up to his room. Then we went out for a bite to eat, fighting the throngs of students back on campus as well as the avid Boston Red Sox fans heading to Fenway Park.

We had our pizza, said our goodbyes to Christopher, found our way out of Boston and headed to Needham, MA to drop in for a short visit with our first cousin, twice removed, Constance Lucy Knight. Merrilyn hadn't been to Con's since we were small kids, so it was a treat for her. We had a good visit, said farewell and got back on the road for Lunenburg. We hit the hay earlier this night as Merrilyn had to go to work on Tues. and I was going to Fall River, MA to do some research for my half-brother, Alan Mark Ingalls.

Spent most of the day (04 Sep) riding and walking in and around Fall River, MA, the city of my birth. My goal was to get some information on my brother's maternal grandparents, who were supposed to be buried in Fall River. I started with the Chamber of Commerce to inquire about Jewish cemeteries. I was pointed to a large cemetery in the center of town and with map in hand went to locate Henry and Emma (Medinski) Gollis. They emigrated from Russia in the early 1900's. I spent awhile riding around the cemetery and finally found the office after not finding Henry and Emma. Out to lunch. So I found a shady spot and had my lunch that Merrilyn provided, at the cemetery waiting for the office to reopen. I went back to the office and told the clerk the names of the people I was looking for, but they were not in his files. When I mentioned their being Jewish and how I was directed there by the C of C, WELL, I was - in the wrong cemetery!

While at lunch, I had reexamined the map and all the cemeteries located thereon. (don't you love that phrasing?!). Just on the south edge of town was a Jewish cemetery. What should have been a 10-15 minute drive to the Jewish cemetery turned into another "scenic drive" I Does this ever make you wonder how I ever get anywhere when I travel? I got there eventually, and found Henry and Emma, their son Morton, and some of Henry's brothers. I also took pictures so I could have names and dates on record and for future reference when putting some more of the Russian connection together.

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From the cemetery I decided to see what I could dig up at the library. With a very nice reference librarian to point the way, I started with newspaper obits of Henry and Emma Gollis. Isn't it amazing what you think you know and what the newspapers say. Having not pursued this particular line, I Just assumed that Henry and Emma lived and died in Fall River. Not so. Henry died in VT at a veteran’s hospital and Emma died in East Providence, RI. They had lived in Fall River for many years running a grocery store but obviously were not there when they died, only brought back to be buried.

Earlier I mentioned Fall River as the town of my birth. So while I was in the newspaper microfilm department, why not see what I could find on me. Found date and proceeded to scan newspaper but for some reason I couldn't read it. Is is any wonder as it was all in French!. After regrouping to the English version, I did find Mrs. Ingalls had a baby . . . I got copies of those newspapers and call it a day. I was due in Warwick, RI for supper.

You wouldn't believe the blue light specials that were being handed out between Fall River and Newport. People were being flagged off the road faster than you could shake a stick at them. Needless to say I was among the chosen to receive one, but for whatever unknown reason or fate, after sending in my check, it all came back rescinded. (Thank you, thank you for large and small favors.) Beware in that area.

Made it to my rendezvous with a friend of my mother's (Lillian Holmander) Baker). She and a friend were waiting for me and after some small talk, we departed for a restaurant for some lobster. I got the plate with 2 lobsters so I could have one for me and one for my mother. We donned our bibs and attacked with our nutcrackers to enjoy our meal.

Wednesday, 05 Sep, saw Lillian and me making plans to visit cemeteries again to try to add more information and names to her family tree. We managed to track down some new leads and added a trip to the courthouse to try for more info, then back to the cemeteries. This fun went on for a day and a half before I had to strike out again for another destination, Kent, CT.

I planned my route to take me through Willimantic, CT for another try at finding a first cousin of my mom's, Clara Anita (Terranova) Dunton. For at least four years, I've gone bar her home, phoned, written, all to no avail. This time I even missed the exit and toyed with whether or not to go back or keep going. I figured I'd better double back as it might be awhile before I get there again. You can't imagine the shock of finding a car in the driveway and wondering what do I do now?! You take a deep breath, knock on the door, say who you are and who you are looking for and why. Presto! The door opens and you get invited inside.

-To be continued-

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(Thanks, Gertrude Smith, Webster, NY for sending this article on a theatre production at GeVA Theatre, Rochester, NY 14607 December 1990)

"GeVa Theater will once again join WXX1 9.15 FM and the Hochstein School of Music in presenting "A Cup of Good Cheer" on December 19 at noon. This year's program, is entitled "A Pioneer Christmas". Christmas reminiscences from LAURA INGALLS WILDER'S "Little House" books will be interwoven with holiday and traditional American music... Multi-instrumentalists Jim Kamball and Mitzie Collins will contribute music much like LAURA'S PA would have played to warm his family's spirits on cold prairie nights.

Jim Kimball is a lecturer in Ethnomusicology and Music History at SUNY Geneseo. Jim directs the Geneseo String Band, a faculty-student ensemble which specializes in a variety of old-time American music. Kimball has done extensive research into the music traditions of Western New York, and through that research discovered that LAURA'S PA, CHARLES INGALLS, was actually a native of Cuba, New York in the southern tier. Much of the music that Pa plays for his family throughout the entire series of "Little House" books is actually music Ingalls carried westward from his New York boyhood home".

QUERIES

From Mrs. O. Jane (Ingalls) Holland, Cheboygan, MI: DAVID INGLES, born ca 1777 in States (probably Vermont). Was farmer and had 7 sons and 3 daughters. Moved to Dumfries, Ontario, Canada. In 1851 (census) was living in a 1 story log home with Catherine (47) and Jackson (17). David was then 74.

On 1861 census David and Catherine were not there. Did David die? Jackson was still living there but was married to Jane and had 3 children, David, Phoebe and Elizabeth.

Also, am looking for a GEORGE INGALLS, born 1857 probably in Attica, Lapeer County, MI.

****

From Mrs. John Mellen Ingalls, Jacksonville Beach, FL: Seeking parents or other relatives of GRANVIULLE MELLEN INGALLS born 1833 in Bangor, ME. He moved south to Alabama and Tennessee as a young man. He was in the lumber business.

****

From Alice Walz, Leon, KS: She writes: "My sister, Mary Lou Ireland, my husband, Doyle and I were very happy with our Ingalls research in the Naperville, Joliet, New Lenox, Illinois area.

"We found the graves of Louis Ellsworth Ingalls (#2792 in Burleigh's book) and most of his family in Oakwood cemetery in New Lenox, Will Co., IL. Also Abner Ingalls and family. In Naperville, we came across graves of Henry #2791) and Lois (Royce) Ingalls. We were checking on the Royce name in old Boardman cemetery and discovered the Ingalls graves. We were surprised to find the grave of Andrew (twin brother of Abner), who had died in Tennessee during the Civil War. We had stopped in Tennessee on an earlier trip, looking for his grave. A sexton in one cemetery told us that some of the people in the south were not happy having Union soldiers buried in their cemeteries, so some bodies had been moved. We really had given up on finding his grave.

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"In Matteson, Cook Co., IL, we drive past the Ingalls Medical Center and Hospital, but did not stop to check on the name. (I have some information on this - AIS)

"While in Salt Lake City recently, we found a couple of articles on George I. Engel in the book "Illinois - A Descriptive and Historical Guide". Harry Hansen, editor - American Guild Series. George was one of several men who was executed in Chicago, IL, in 1887 in connection with a labor riot and bombing. A later article said the men were not guilty and should not have been executed. A large memorial stone was erected near Waldheim cemetery in Chicago honoring them. The whole episode was called "The Haymarket Tragedy". We are wondering if he was an uncle to my grandfather, who was also named George."

JOLIET AREA HISTORICAL SOCIETY NEWSLETTER

Volume IX No. I September, 1989
Published in Joliet, Illinois "On the I & M Canal National Heritage Corridor"

How an Area Was Named

In June, I stopped at the Oakwood Cemetery office in the Iverson Flower Shop to get information from the old cemetery records. Sophia Hanson, an employee, supplied the records to me.

A few days later I received a call from Sophia telling me of another researcher, Alice Walz of Wiichita, Kansas. Mrs. Walz was in the Oakwood office searching records for a Civil War ancestor named Abner Ingalls. I spoke with Mrs. Wall by phone.

This is what I learned: At the Joliet Public Library, Mrs. Walz had read W. W. Steven's History of Will County. She learned that Ingalls Park was named for Louis Ellsworth Ingalls, brother of Abner, who had farmed that area. Mrs. Walz's mother was an Ingalls and Louis was a great-great Uncle.

Could Ingalls Avenue be named for the same family? Ingalls Avenue, on the 1887 map at City Hall was a street off Second Avenue. The name was later changed to Meda Ave. Ingalls Avenue is now West of the DesPlaines River.
...Dorothy V. Crombie

QUERIES

From Jesse R. Ingalls Jr., St. Germain, Manitoba Canada: I have The Genealogy and History of the Ingalls Family in America by Charles Burleigh. I cannot make a direct connection with my family: JESSE R. INGALLS SR; JOHN LANGDON INGALLS JR; JOHN LANGDON INGALLS SR; from the New England area. I suggest that the connection may be on page 162 of Charles Burleigh's book (B2897)

 

©1984-2006. Arlene Ingalls Schrader. All rights reserved.