My grandfather knew where everyone lived. That is, he knew where his siblings, his aunts and uncles, and other assorted relatives, lived. The rest of us didn’t. We didn’t even know that there were relatives out there that we should know about. We didn’t know who we didn’t know.
It was as if my father and his brothers and sisters sprang into life in some unattached void of the past. My cousins and I knew each other; we each knew our parents and our uncles and aunts. We knew Grandpa and faintly remembered Grandma. At least I faintly remembered her. She died when I was five. My older cousins might have had a better recollection of her.
But Grandpa knew about mysterious “others” who existed out there, somewhere, in the ether. Once in awhile, he would talk about “them.” In so doing, he increased the mystery. He would say, “There are some rich Hackers down in Texas. If you went down there and proved you were related, maybe you could get some of their money.” Yeah, right, Grandpa. Like they would just ‘give” us some of their money.
Nobody would respond when he said this. Nobody asked, “Where in Texas?” Nobody asked the names of these rich relatives. No one planned an exploratory trip to check them out. My father and his brothers and sisters were too busy living their own lives. The men were working, supporting families. They were slowing climbing the ladder of financial stability they had created for themselves, and didn’t have time to take exploratory trips to Texas.
For some reason, none of Grandpa’s sons checked out Grandpa’s stories. I wonder why? He was their father, and he had never gone after these fortunes. Instead, he sent his sons out to work in the Eastern Colorado farming community in which they lived. They were all working for other farmers by the time they were eight. And Grandpa took some of their earnings to support the family. As a consequence, all of them but one became good, hard workers. Their “fortune” was found through that hard work. The one that didn’t was Uncle Bill. Maybe I’ll write about him someday.
Aside from the fortune-hunting stories, Grandpa also knew where lost cousins lived. He would say, “There’s some Hackers in Montainey, if you knew where to find ‘em.” (I spelled “Montana” the way he pronounced it.) His sons just looked at each other and shook their heads. No one bought train or plane tickets for Montana to look for the cousins.
Grandpa never told us the names of these relatives. He just told us where they were. Now, I have done a lot of genealogical research, and I know where several lines of our Hacker family live, and I know that he missed some.
I have learned about the family of Daniel Hacker who moved his family to Texas after the Civil War. Daniel became fairly prosperous, and I suppose his children and grandchildren were also fairly prosperous. I am acquainted with a few of them through my genealogy research, and through Facebook. We have shared information. But I don’t know if they are really rich.
Actually, Uncle Bud, one of my father’s brothers, moved to a farm in Texas about 1947. He and Aunt Nellie lived near their daughter, Eula who was married to Ernie. Ernie went to college and became a geologist who worked on the oil rigs in the Gulf, and also in the North Sea. He became quite well off. Eula’s brother Jack also worked in the oil industry and, so far as I know, is financially comfortable.
Their brother Bob lived with his family in Texas for awhile, but he moved to Albuquerque, NM. He was a traveling salesman for a number of years. He and his wife Juanita had five children and, as they became teenagers, she had her hands full managing their sons. She finally told Bob that he would have to get a job close to home and help her with their budding juvenile delinquents. When Bob told his boss that he would have to quit his job, the boss made him a surprising offer. The boss wanted to retire, so he made Bob the manager of his company. Bob might have had the title, “President,” but I’m not totally sure of that. Anyway, Bob stayed home and made good money as a manager of this company.
Bob and Juanita bought some land out in the country near the Sandia Mountains. It had a house on it, but they decided they wanted something a little nicer. They began building. I really don’t know the whole story of how the house evolved, but when I saw it a number of years later, I was astounded at how beautiful and spacious it was. It had a lovely view of the Sandia Mountains.
Juanita liked to collect fine silver objects and silver and turquoise jewelry made by the Indians. She had a vault full of this stuff. All-in-all, I think Bob made his own wealth, and didn’t have to chase after it. He probably never met the “rich” Hackers in Texas.
Grandpa never told us about the Hacker family that lived in Northern California near Sacramento. They moved there around the time of the gold rush, although this family did not become gold miners. Instead, Eli Hacker, the head of the family dealt in real estate.
Grandpa did not mention his uncle John M. Hacker, his father’s oldest brother. John M. also went to California in 1849 and he was seeking gold. He has an interesting story which I finally pieced together with the help of a couple of Hacker researchers.
Finally, Grandpa knew nothing about the huge Hacker family that lives in Kentucky where I now live. They are descended from John Hacker, brother of our ggg Grandfather Joseph Hacker. Yes, we are related.
Grandpa did know about some cousins that lived near Sedalia, Missouri. When he visited us on our farm near Warrensburg, Missouri, he contacted them, and they invited us all over for Sunday dinner. That is a story for another day.
Thank you for this!
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