Eliza Etta Crecelius went by her middle name. She was the second of three daughters of J. George Crecelius & Elizabeth Keller. She was named Eliza after her mother's younger sister Eliza Keller Windle Bottles.
When Etta was eight, her mother Elizabeth died, leaving seven young children for her widower to raise. Etta was farmed out as a hired girl for other families, including her aunt next door, Mahala Crecelius Conrad, wife of the founder of Conrad, Iowa, John William Conrad.
Etta Crecelius Coulter was a skilled seamstress, and likely made the clothes she is wearing in these photos: Etta seated, with her younger sister Minerva, circa late 1870s. Etta standing, circa 1880. The 4th photo is Etta, circa 1920. The photo of four persons: Etta, left, her husband Aaron, top, Etta's brother Will Crecelius & his wife Flora, circa early 1880s--possibly around the time of Etta & Aaron's 1881 marriage--Will & Flora married in 1879.
Etta had five children and 24 grandchildren (Four grandchildren survive today: June 2017, ages 72, 78, 93, & 95). I was the youngest grandchild. Grandmother died when I was only one, so I have no memories of her. She was 84 when she died following surgery for colon cancer.
A True Tale of Tomatoes
Tomato vines, belonging to the nightshade family, are poisonous. So the vine's red fruit was once thought to be poisonous also. Nevertheless, they were grown as ornamentals for their ruby fruits, which were called love apples (pommes amour). In the 1860s, Elizabeth Keller Crecelius grew some to decorate the edge of her Iowa vegetable garden. Little Etta was playing outside one summer and was attracted to the bright red love apples. She picked one and ate it. Tasted good, so she picked more and ate them, too. She took one inside to share with her mother. Elizabeth panicked, afraid her daughter would die from eating something poisonous! When little Etta didn't even become ill, Elizabeth re-evaluated the love apples, and before long, they became a staple in the family's diet. (told me in the 1950s by Etta's son Fred, my father. I'm sure the same thing happened many times elsewhere before tomatoes became as popular as they are today. Love apples forever!)
Etta was only eight when her mother Elizabeth (Keller) Crecelius died in 1870. Elizabeth was buried just kitty-cornered across the road from her farmhouse on the farm of her brother-in-law, John W. Conrad. Elizabeth's present granite headstone---with her name misspelled Elizebeth---is not her original 1870 marker, which was locally-quarried soft limestone that weathered badly. Half a century later, her daughter Etta Coulter replaced the worn headstone with a durable grey granite one that matched that of Elizabeth's husband George, who died in 1919--49 years after his wife. Etta also paid for perpetual care for the Crecelius lot (lot #2) when she learned that had never been bought back when the burial ground was a private family cemetery for the Conrads & Creceliuses & their neighbors in the 1860s & '70s. Today, over 1,400 departed loved ones rest in Conrad Cemetery; it is beautifully maintained.
In Lot 2 with George & Elizabeth also rest their daughter Etta and her husband Aaron Coulter; a grandson Verne Alonzo Crecelius, who lived for only two weeks in April 1892; a great-granddaughter Darleen (Coulter) Vajgrt--my beloved sister--and her husband Leonard (see their listings); and a great-great-grandson Stanley Dickenson, who died in 1951, age 21 months (see his listing).
Suit & tie preferred
When Etta died, her sons Guy and Fred lived on farms near Conrad, Iowa, north of Marshalltown. The youngest son, Arch "Art" was living in Montana; daughter Ella Diller in Pasadena, California; and daughter Lois Mullen on the east coast. All came to Iowa for the funeral. Art stayed with my parents at their farm 15 miles north of Marshalltown. The day of the funeral he came down for breakfast, wearing his usual brown work shirt & pants.
"Aren't you going to wear a suit to Mother's services?" Fred asked him.
"I didn't bring a suit with me."
"Mother was always proud of you in your Sunday best. Come back upstairs with me."
The two brothers went upstairs to the master bedroom, and Fred went into the walk-in closet. He came out with his second-best suit (Fred was wearing his best suit himself), a starched white dress shirt, and a necktie. So Art looked neat and respectful at his mother's funeral. Good thing the boys were the same size!
When Etta was eight, her mother Elizabeth died, leaving seven young children for her widower to raise. Etta was farmed out as a hired girl for other families, including her aunt next door, Mahala Crecelius Conrad, wife of the founder of Conrad, Iowa, John William Conrad.
Etta Crecelius Coulter was a skilled seamstress, and likely made the clothes she is wearing in these photos: Etta seated, with her younger sister Minerva, circa late 1870s. Etta standing, circa 1880. The 4th photo is Etta, circa 1920. The photo of four persons: Etta, left, her husband Aaron, top, Etta's brother Will Crecelius & his wife Flora, circa early 1880s--possibly around the time of Etta & Aaron's 1881 marriage--Will & Flora married in 1879.
Etta had five children and 24 grandchildren (Four grandchildren survive today: June 2017, ages 72, 78, 93, & 95). I was the youngest grandchild. Grandmother died when I was only one, so I have no memories of her. She was 84 when she died following surgery for colon cancer.
A True Tale of Tomatoes
Tomato vines, belonging to the nightshade family, are poisonous. So the vine's red fruit was once thought to be poisonous also. Nevertheless, they were grown as ornamentals for their ruby fruits, which were called love apples (pommes amour). In the 1860s, Elizabeth Keller Crecelius grew some to decorate the edge of her Iowa vegetable garden. Little Etta was playing outside one summer and was attracted to the bright red love apples. She picked one and ate it. Tasted good, so she picked more and ate them, too. She took one inside to share with her mother. Elizabeth panicked, afraid her daughter would die from eating something poisonous! When little Etta didn't even become ill, Elizabeth re-evaluated the love apples, and before long, they became a staple in the family's diet. (told me in the 1950s by Etta's son Fred, my father. I'm sure the same thing happened many times elsewhere before tomatoes became as popular as they are today. Love apples forever!)
Etta was only eight when her mother Elizabeth (Keller) Crecelius died in 1870. Elizabeth was buried just kitty-cornered across the road from her farmhouse on the farm of her brother-in-law, John W. Conrad. Elizabeth's present granite headstone---with her name misspelled Elizebeth---is not her original 1870 marker, which was locally-quarried soft limestone that weathered badly. Half a century later, her daughter Etta Coulter replaced the worn headstone with a durable grey granite one that matched that of Elizabeth's husband George, who died in 1919--49 years after his wife. Etta also paid for perpetual care for the Crecelius lot (lot #2) when she learned that had never been bought back when the burial ground was a private family cemetery for the Conrads & Creceliuses & their neighbors in the 1860s & '70s. Today, over 1,400 departed loved ones rest in Conrad Cemetery; it is beautifully maintained.
In Lot 2 with George & Elizabeth also rest their daughter Etta and her husband Aaron Coulter; a grandson Verne Alonzo Crecelius, who lived for only two weeks in April 1892; a great-granddaughter Darleen (Coulter) Vajgrt--my beloved sister--and her husband Leonard (see their listings); and a great-great-grandson Stanley Dickenson, who died in 1951, age 21 months (see his listing).
Suit & tie preferred
When Etta died, her sons Guy and Fred lived on farms near Conrad, Iowa, north of Marshalltown. The youngest son, Arch "Art" was living in Montana; daughter Ella Diller in Pasadena, California; and daughter Lois Mullen on the east coast. All came to Iowa for the funeral. Art stayed with my parents at their farm 15 miles north of Marshalltown. The day of the funeral he came down for breakfast, wearing his usual brown work shirt & pants.
"Aren't you going to wear a suit to Mother's services?" Fred asked him.
"I didn't bring a suit with me."
"Mother was always proud of you in your Sunday best. Come back upstairs with me."
The two brothers went upstairs to the master bedroom, and Fred went into the walk-in closet. He came out with his second-best suit (Fred was wearing his best suit himself), a starched white dress shirt, and a necktie. So Art looked neat and respectful at his mother's funeral. Good thing the boys were the same size!
Eliza Etta Crecelius went by her middle name. She was the second of three daughters of J. George Crecelius & Elizabeth Keller. She was named Eliza after her mother's younger sister Eliza Keller Windle Bottles.
When Etta was eight, her mother Elizabeth died, leaving seven young children for her widower to raise. Etta was farmed out as a hired girl for other families, including her aunt next door, Mahala Crecelius Conrad, wife of the founder of Conrad, Iowa, John William Conrad.
Etta Crecelius Coulter was a skilled seamstress, and likely made the clothes she is wearing in these photos: Etta seated, with her younger sister Minerva, circa late 1870s. Etta standing, circa 1880. The 4th photo is Etta, circa 1920. The photo of four persons: Etta, left, her husband Aaron, top, Etta's brother Will Crecelius & his wife Flora, circa early 1880s--possibly around the time of Etta & Aaron's 1881 marriage--Will & Flora married in 1879.
Etta had five children and 24 grandchildren (Four grandchildren survive today: June 2017, ages 72, 78, 93, & 95). I was the youngest grandchild. Grandmother died when I was only one, so I have no memories of her. She was 84 when she died following surgery for colon cancer.
A True Tale of Tomatoes
Tomato vines, belonging to the nightshade family, are poisonous. So the vine's red fruit was once thought to be poisonous also. Nevertheless, they were grown as ornamentals for their ruby fruits, which were called love apples (pommes amour). In the 1860s, Elizabeth Keller Crecelius grew some to decorate the edge of her Iowa vegetable garden. Little Etta was playing outside one summer and was attracted to the bright red love apples. She picked one and ate it. Tasted good, so she picked more and ate them, too. She took one inside to share with her mother. Elizabeth panicked, afraid her daughter would die from eating something poisonous! When little Etta didn't even become ill, Elizabeth re-evaluated the love apples, and before long, they became a staple in the family's diet. (told me in the 1950s by Etta's son Fred, my father. I'm sure the same thing happened many times elsewhere before tomatoes became as popular as they are today. Love apples forever!)
Etta was only eight when her mother Elizabeth (Keller) Crecelius died in 1870. Elizabeth was buried just kitty-cornered across the road from her farmhouse on the farm of her brother-in-law, John W. Conrad. Elizabeth's present granite headstone---with her name misspelled Elizebeth---is not her original 1870 marker, which was locally-quarried soft limestone that weathered badly. Half a century later, her daughter Etta Coulter replaced the worn headstone with a durable grey granite one that matched that of Elizabeth's husband George, who died in 1919--49 years after his wife. Etta also paid for perpetual care for the Crecelius lot (lot #2) when she learned that had never been bought back when the burial ground was a private family cemetery for the Conrads & Creceliuses & their neighbors in the 1860s & '70s. Today, over 1,400 departed loved ones rest in Conrad Cemetery; it is beautifully maintained.
In Lot 2 with George & Elizabeth also rest their daughter Etta and her husband Aaron Coulter; a grandson Verne Alonzo Crecelius, who lived for only two weeks in April 1892; a great-granddaughter Darleen (Coulter) Vajgrt--my beloved sister--and her husband Leonard (see their listings); and a great-great-grandson Stanley Dickenson, who died in 1951, age 21 months (see his listing).
Suit & tie preferred
When Etta died, her sons Guy and Fred lived on farms near Conrad, Iowa, north of Marshalltown. The youngest son, Arch "Art" was living in Montana; daughter Ella Diller in Pasadena, California; and daughter Lois Mullen on the east coast. All came to Iowa for the funeral. Art stayed with my parents at their farm 15 miles north of Marshalltown. The day of the funeral he came down for breakfast, wearing his usual brown work shirt & pants.
"Aren't you going to wear a suit to Mother's services?" Fred asked him.
"I didn't bring a suit with me."
"Mother was always proud of you in your Sunday best. Come back upstairs with me."
The two brothers went upstairs to the master bedroom, and Fred went into the walk-in closet. He came out with his second-best suit (Fred was wearing his best suit himself), a starched white dress shirt, and a necktie. So Art looked neat and respectful at his mother's funeral. Good thing the boys were the same size!
When Etta was eight, her mother Elizabeth died, leaving seven young children for her widower to raise. Etta was farmed out as a hired girl for other families, including her aunt next door, Mahala Crecelius Conrad, wife of the founder of Conrad, Iowa, John William Conrad.
Etta Crecelius Coulter was a skilled seamstress, and likely made the clothes she is wearing in these photos: Etta seated, with her younger sister Minerva, circa late 1870s. Etta standing, circa 1880. The 4th photo is Etta, circa 1920. The photo of four persons: Etta, left, her husband Aaron, top, Etta's brother Will Crecelius & his wife Flora, circa early 1880s--possibly around the time of Etta & Aaron's 1881 marriage--Will & Flora married in 1879.
Etta had five children and 24 grandchildren (Four grandchildren survive today: June 2017, ages 72, 78, 93, & 95). I was the youngest grandchild. Grandmother died when I was only one, so I have no memories of her. She was 84 when she died following surgery for colon cancer.
A True Tale of Tomatoes
Tomato vines, belonging to the nightshade family, are poisonous. So the vine's red fruit was once thought to be poisonous also. Nevertheless, they were grown as ornamentals for their ruby fruits, which were called love apples (pommes amour). In the 1860s, Elizabeth Keller Crecelius grew some to decorate the edge of her Iowa vegetable garden. Little Etta was playing outside one summer and was attracted to the bright red love apples. She picked one and ate it. Tasted good, so she picked more and ate them, too. She took one inside to share with her mother. Elizabeth panicked, afraid her daughter would die from eating something poisonous! When little Etta didn't even become ill, Elizabeth re-evaluated the love apples, and before long, they became a staple in the family's diet. (told me in the 1950s by Etta's son Fred, my father. I'm sure the same thing happened many times elsewhere before tomatoes became as popular as they are today. Love apples forever!)
Etta was only eight when her mother Elizabeth (Keller) Crecelius died in 1870. Elizabeth was buried just kitty-cornered across the road from her farmhouse on the farm of her brother-in-law, John W. Conrad. Elizabeth's present granite headstone---with her name misspelled Elizebeth---is not her original 1870 marker, which was locally-quarried soft limestone that weathered badly. Half a century later, her daughter Etta Coulter replaced the worn headstone with a durable grey granite one that matched that of Elizabeth's husband George, who died in 1919--49 years after his wife. Etta also paid for perpetual care for the Crecelius lot (lot #2) when she learned that had never been bought back when the burial ground was a private family cemetery for the Conrads & Creceliuses & their neighbors in the 1860s & '70s. Today, over 1,400 departed loved ones rest in Conrad Cemetery; it is beautifully maintained.
In Lot 2 with George & Elizabeth also rest their daughter Etta and her husband Aaron Coulter; a grandson Verne Alonzo Crecelius, who lived for only two weeks in April 1892; a great-granddaughter Darleen (Coulter) Vajgrt--my beloved sister--and her husband Leonard (see their listings); and a great-great-grandson Stanley Dickenson, who died in 1951, age 21 months (see his listing).
Suit & tie preferred
When Etta died, her sons Guy and Fred lived on farms near Conrad, Iowa, north of Marshalltown. The youngest son, Arch "Art" was living in Montana; daughter Ella Diller in Pasadena, California; and daughter Lois Mullen on the east coast. All came to Iowa for the funeral. Art stayed with my parents at their farm 15 miles north of Marshalltown. The day of the funeral he came down for breakfast, wearing his usual brown work shirt & pants.
"Aren't you going to wear a suit to Mother's services?" Fred asked him.
"I didn't bring a suit with me."
"Mother was always proud of you in your Sunday best. Come back upstairs with me."
The two brothers went upstairs to the master bedroom, and Fred went into the walk-in closet. He came out with his second-best suit (Fred was wearing his best suit himself), a starched white dress shirt, and a necktie. So Art looked neat and respectful at his mother's funeral. Good thing the boys were the same size!
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