California Pioneer Harmon Higgins

L-R: James Alexander Howie, Clara Elnett Hand-Howie standing next to the post.
Flora L. Howie-Mayo sitting with Marjorie Mayo-Waage.
Sitting in the chair, Albert Gardner Parker. Standing on right post:
Helen Desdemonia Rider-Howie-Parker.
Sitting on step: Thomas Clay Mayo, holding Mabel Mayo-Somfelde.

I am going to tell a story now about cousin Annie Howie.  She was born April 18, 1884 in Potton, MISSISQUOI, Quebec, Canada, an area just north-east of Lake Champlain.  She was the second child of James Alexander Howie c. 1855 and his wife, Clara Elnett Hand.  The family were farmers in the Stanstead area of Canada for many years.  Her father James was the older brother to my Great Grand-father William George Howie, c. 1856.   At this point I am not currently aware of the how or the when, however Annie and her younger sister Flora Howie moved out west to Southern California.  Here is where my story begins.  Flora first appears in the 1900 U.S. Census taken in Compton California.  A young girl of 15 years.  Flora next appears November 16, 1909 on a marriage certificate to Thomas Clay Mayo.  Thomas was born to a farming family in Compton on August 27, 1885.  They had two children together, daughters Marjorie and Mabel in 1910 and 1911.  Thomas Mayo registers for the draft for WWI in 1917 at the age of 32.  In the 1920 Census data for his listed occupation, it has now changed from farmer to Ranch operator and we now see also appearing on the same census, Annie & Flora's younger brother Robert Maitland Howie, c. 1890, his wife Naomie Gaines-Howie and their newly first born son Robert Howie, c. 1920 living on the adjacent ranch.  Above is a four generation family photo above taken on the Mayo family farm in Compton in 1916 with James and Clara Howie in the back and Marjorie and Mabel in the front and Helen D. (Rider) (Howie) Parker standing besides her husband Albert Parker while he sits on the porch in a rocking chair.

Henry J. Mayo, the father of Thomas Clay, was born c. 1849, in Missouri. He was listed as a laborer in Lea's Summit Missouri, at the age of 21 on the 1870 U.S. Census. The tracks for the Missouri Pacific Railroad were being laid at the time, and the Lees Summit R.R.station was being built.  He may have even labored to get the railroad through Jackson County.  This was probably his ticket to California. As I next found him

registered to vote in August 1875, in Compton, California.
The date of marriage to his wife Augusta Ann Higgins is not yet known by me.  Augusta was born c. 1858 in the Oregon Territory.  She became a school teacher in Compton, and leaves her legacy today, as there is still a school named in her honor, and a street called Mayo.

Augusta Ann Higgins

Augustas' father was Harmon Higgins a farmer from Illinois, and her mother Melinda Durbin was from Missouri where her parents Daniel and Thersa (Fugate) Durbin were also farmers.


Harmon and Melinda Higgins were California Pioneer's.  Making their way west by wagon pulled by oxen along the Oregon Trail.  There are many books published, so I will let two pages of a historical biography on the Higgins journey tell their story. Let me begin with a photo of Harmon Higgins.

Harmon Higgins

 

I need to correct just a little bit of time line from the wonderfully written story above.  As the writer pointed out the 7 month journey on the Oregon Trail from Missouri to Oregon, the final journey to California was no easier.  We find the Higgins family in the 1850 U.S. Census, farmers in Napa, California.  Then ten years later we find the Higgins family in the 1860 Census, farmers in Visalia, Tulare, California.  Then 1870 & 1880 census finally reaching southern California to Compton and then on to Wilmington California.

From the story we can surmise they were survivors, and successful.  There are many books out there written about the Oregon trail.  Many of the stories mention Harmon Higgins, as he quickly became the Captain of the wagon team.  His young bride at the time Melinda must have been a strong woman.  Here is a photograph of Melinda in the early years.

Melinda Higgins, Mary E. Higgins, Harmon Higgins c. 1857

Malinda Frances Durbin-Higgins

It appears to me to be 1887 probably the funeral for Harmon Higgins

Probably sitting in the parlor of the home pictured below.

1st row L-R: James Polk Higgins (oldest son), Malinda F. Higgins (holding the photo of Harmon), Cassandra M. Higgins-Holman (Youngest). 2nd row: Dallas A. Higgins (2nd oldest), Josiah, (holds Harmon Jrs pix, Harmon Jr. Lived in Tucson AZ}, Mary E. Higgins, Augusta Ann Higgins-Mayo,  Stonewall Jackson "Wally" Higgins.

Back Row: Benjamin "Buck" Higgins,  William Riley "Beadie" Higgins.

The Harmon Higgins Home c. 1890's

Photo from the South Bay Photograph collection CSU Dominguez Hills. 

Harmon Higgins had a sugar beet farm, and was the President of the Dairy Association. They had the largest property in Compton. 

The Higgins farm was near Olive St and Wilmington Blvd. in Compton, California.

 On top porch (l-r): Mrs. William Riley Higgins (Nancy), with four of H.J. & Augusta Mayo children: 

Mabel Mayo, Harmon Jefferson "Jeff" Mayo, James Monroe Mayo, (Thomas is downstairs) and William Riley "Will" Mayo. 

On lower porch (l-r): Mrs. Joseph Higgins (I believe this is Enola Gay, wife of Josiah Daniel Higgins), Dallas A. Higgins, 

Benjamin Buchanan "Buck" Higgins, Thomas Clay Mayo, and his mother, Mrs. Augusta Mayo. 

In buggy (l-r): Stonewall Jackson"Wallie" Higgins, Mr. Knowland (cousin from Missouri).In front of house window (l-r): unknown male in hat. Harmon Higgins Jr., Mrs. Harmon Higgins Jr. (Lucy C. Chamberlin).

Here is the genealogy, and our family connection to our not so distant cousins:

Cold Cream for Preservation

I just recently drove to Albuquerque New Mexico to celebrate my mother turning eighty years old.  It was great to see the family and old friends and catch up on new family additions and reminisce about the good ole days.  I drove around the city passing by my old elementary schools, and middle schools and I was even as adventurous to hike to the Sandia Man Caves that I remembered so fondly  from my childhood.  Like most cities, Albuquerque is no different with the passing of time.  Those brand new neighborhoods of yesterday have fallen into decay and crime as white flight and capitalism have the newer generations sprawling outside the city to new enclaves.  I drove down Texas Street where I lived seven youthful years.  The city plunge, once an Olympic size pool where I swam as a young boy with my friends was gone; the entire block was covered up by something new.  As I drove closer to my old house I could tell the neighborhood was not the same.  Paint was peeling, roof shingles were falling off or missing and some homes now have bars over the windows.  I think there was only one green lawn left on the entire block.  After all those good years where my father and I kept up with the neighbors to have the best looking front yards with manicured landscaping, had now been replaced with families that are too busy to enjoy their home.  I was positive that when I got to my old house it would still look as beautiful as I once remembered.  My hopes sank as I journeyed ever closer.  I could see that there were no trees; I mean none.  Not in the back yard, the side yard, the next door neighbors yard or the front yard.  The huge 100 year old cottonwood tree that I had climbed as a boy and appeared on the channel 4 TV show, Eyewitness News had been cut down.  The entire front yards of the homes had been covered up by concrete with cars parked everywhere.  Gone were the juniper bushes that framed the front entrance to my home.  Gone was the gas lamp that kept watch over our landscaped front yard day and night.  Gone were the tulips and the crocus that burst from the snow covered ground ever spring.  The current generation was showing to me that they cared little about preservation of my past.  I have only my memories and some 1970's photos to keep and preserve.


As I work on recording the genealogy of my family and travel back in time 200, 300, or even 400 years in one night, I realize that nothing lasts forever.  If you put cold cream on your face at night, or sun screen during the day.  Eat organic food, exercise or get plenty of rest.  What does that get us? A better sex life one could hope.  Preservation of our family history collection needs more work than just some cold cream.  As we get older we want to pass on our memory to the future generations, but again, nothing lasts forever. In my globe trotting I have seen some horrible preservation of ancestors in Peru that should really be classified as ruins, to some truly ornate mausoleums in Europe which have been spared through many wars, that reach the status of shrine.  In my research of the Lecka's, Pritchard's, Watson's, Starnes' and Chandlers of Tennessee I have read many a story online where cemeteries have been moved or family plots even covered up by a Walmart as there are no kin left who remember.  From the family grave plot on the forty acre farm to the wooden crosses left to mark the graves of our fallen soldiers, they have all gone back to the earth as nature intended. 

  We as the human race are driven to remember our ancestors and preserve the past. From the pyramids of Egypt, to sixteenth-century Mona Lisa in France, to the Indian petroglyphs in Albuquerque; we want to be remembered.  So how do we accomplish this task?  I find that churches have done the best job, as they tend to stand the tests of time.  Some of the best records I have found for source documentation have been kept by churches in Canada, England and Scotland.


So I have taken on the daunting task as a historian and genealogist.  Burden with newspaper clippings and manuscripts of once famous authors in my family.  Photos fading, and newspapers decaying from their own acids.  I asked librarians and museum staff what do I do?  I turned to the internet where I found two interesting articles on the preservation of old documents and here are the links.
The Library of Congress.
Ancestry.com


So I will see what I can do about getting some of these keepsakes preserved for future generations so they in turn can do the same, and so on, and so on.  But for now, I am also still going to trust a Church.  See, I am addicted to Ancestry.com for help in my genealogical research and have a feeling that what ever names, dates or photos that I store to their website using today's current technology will be left to future generations to figure out how they want to preserve our past.