Posts Tagged ‘New Jersey’

A start for Gill Tree

Thursday, July 28th, 2016

Gill_BLOG
Click here to enlarge.
This is an extremely rough version, at least a small beginning of a Gill tree. I want to thank Cheryl, a friend of mine for digging in unexpectedly and doing this.
Yeah there are missing last names and somebody named Caroline that was probably who our aunt Carol was named after?
Hartman-Gill Family Tree
Above is the workable link that I am going to transfer soon. You may need a {free) account to view. The starting point is me because she knows me. Again, this is a very rough draft and I’m putting it here in the blog with a lot of searchable tag words to hopefully attract some curious Gill tree seekers. (like the one who disappeared.) We need help on this and ……. time.
Also: I have added her emails to me in the comments.

August 3 2000

Monday, August 3rd, 2015

glennBev
Today Beverly passed away 15 years ago and we approach the one year anniversary of Glenns passing August 17 (yeah, I know, already!). Bev would have been 58 this September which means she was a very young 43 when she died. Somewhere on this blog I write about the day Bev died and how I’ll never forget it. She used to raise and sell persian kittens and the funny thing is one of her cats is still alive and lives with George Poulo in Plainfield NJ.
Personally I have so many memories with each Glenn and Beverly but I did have a special relationship with Bev. It was just one of those things. We go way back. She understood me deeply. As she sailed further and further away from us in her sickness, I never tried to find her. I wasn’t strong enough.
It is these kinds of anniversary that tell you fast the clock ticks and how fragile our time here is. I really miss them.

The death of Lima Beans

Friday, May 14th, 2010


Some upcoming New Jersey Road Trips:
Brooke will be in NJ June-18th thru 21st.
Becca will be in NJ August -14th – 21st

My sponsor called me up
“Where the fuck have you been asshole?”
“I love you too”
“No really, this ain’t no fucking game!”
“I never said it was…I just…I’ve been busy.”
“BULLSHIT”
*click*

Gil Mercado, 25, Paterson New Jersey comes home

The war rages on and do we really notice? Unless we have somebody over there, what does it matter? Did we win or did we lose? President Obama cleared away an old Bush law saying photos of coffins from the war were banned. So welcome home Gil Mercado! Paterson is probably one of the toughest places to live in New Jersey. It is a war zone of drugs, guns, corruption slums and sleaze. Gil was probably thinking, “Hey, what do I have to lose. I’ll join the Marines to get the hell out of this God-forsaken hell hole of a New Jersey city life. 25 is too young, my God to die for any cause.

If I lived in my car, I would be home by now.

NORTH JERSEY: My new existence? It’s pretty new to me anyway. I was born and raised in central NJ, married and had kids in south NJ (Da Shore) and somehow came back to central NJ then migrated to north NJ. New Jersey has always been broken up into three parts. They are all extremely different from each other. My experience in north NJ has been so far incredible. It is truly the melting pot OF THE WORLD Never have I seen so many different ethnic communities blended together so finely. Northern New Jersey was the site of some of the earliest European settlements in what would become the United States of America. The Industrial Revolution in America started by the founding of the northern New Jersey town of Paterson. PATERSON NJ is an amazing city. Driving through main street on any Saturday afternoon is an open-air market experience that rivals only Disney World on it’s best day. If you speak about Paterson NJ to most people they cringe at the homicide and car theft rate and will tell you that they wouldn’t be caught DEAD there! This past week marked the EIGHT YEAR anniversary of moms death. May 1st. Her mothers name was May. Has it really been that long already? Beverly will be gone TEN YEARS this August. Brenda two years. Is it official yet? Do you think that Becca has any memories of her mother at all? To me that is a tragedy that I can never comprehend. But at least she had some time with her and Brenda had known her for a short while anyway. It was only 100 years ago that it was a crap shot that the mother, child or both survived the birth process. Giving birth was just a risky medical procedure and it truly was a miracle if everything went smooth. Not everyone may know it but mom had a miscarriage in between Beverly and me.

Annual death rate per 1000 total births from maternal mortality in America (1850-1970)

In New York City there is a bar with sawdust on the floor and everything is large and made of oak.

(212) 473-9148 - 15 E 7th St, New York, NY

They serve salami sliced on a cutting board, mustard, ham sandwiches and beer. Nothing else. It is a famous bar with tons of history and bursting at the seams with character. I never cried at moms funeral. I don’t know why. I really thought I should have been balling my eyes out but I didn’t. This isn’t hard for me to say and the past is the past. Besides trying to get me back into an even keel of fellowship and meetings, my sponsor told me to get my head out of the past. (or maybe he said to get my head out of my ass, I’m not sure).

DEATH is a very hard thing to figure out. Throughout the world, death and the rituals that surround it are steeped in taboos. Death is celebrated, embraced and feared. It is the only thing that scientist here on earth or any other planet will ever NEVER totally figure out. It is that great mystery that creates such grief and or wonder. What is our connection with the other side? The third dimension of puffy white clouds, serenity and potatoe chips on the couch. Nobody could imagine heaven or hell, although allot of people claim that we are living hell here on earth. What could possibly suck the life out of something so young, so small, so cute? All the tears and grief for this little doggy and I have filled seven suitcases with guilt that I never cried at my mothers funeral (or my dads) yet, when I experienced the loss of a friend that I had known for a short time, I cried for months……and the loss wasn’t even death!!! It was just a goodbye. So what does this say about me as a human? Do I remember Mom? Of course I do. I was just thinking the other day, how she loved to cook Lima beans as a vegetable. They were almost like eating wax. So I mixed them all up in my mashed potatoes and smooshed them and guzzled them down with my grape Hawaiian Punch and yet today I miss them. Nobody cooks lima beans anymore. No restaurants. No place. No where. No body. They shouldn’t even grow them anymore. I miss lima beans (Phaseolus lunatus) but I don’t miss mom.

Everybody is always “going”:
Where are you “going”? How is it “going?” I’m “going…” Let’s get “going”
In the news: The sole survivor of a plane crash is a 9 year old Dutch boy. 103 people died including his mother, father and older brother. Thankfully, he doesn’t remember the crash. He hasn’t been told yet that he lost his family. He only said this:
“I don’t know how I got here. I just want to get going…”

There was an episode of the Little Rascals when the gang built a “fire engine” out of wood and raced it down a very steep street. Stymie was driving the back and Spanky was driving the front. The fire engine was so long that as they were going down the steep hill, the “fire engine” bent in half. Eventually the back of the “fire engine” caught up with the front of the engine. At this point Spanky the front driver yelled over to Stymie the back driver:
“Hey Stymie, where ya going????”
and Stymie replied,
“I don’t know, but I’m on MY WAY !”
That pretty much sums up life for me.

WHERE DO DOGS GO when they die? Damn it, I wish I knew! Actually, where does everything, everybody, every animal goes when they die?? It is that they just GO, that HURTS u so much. It is so final….so “never again” that the tragedy of it sometimes takes months or even NEVER to heal.

I stood by your bed last night, I came to have a peep.
I could see that you were crying, you found it hard to sleep.
I whined to you softly as you brushed away a tear,
“It’s me, I haven’t left you, I’m well, I’m fine, I’m here.”
I was close to you at breakfast, I watched you pour the milk
You were thinking of the many times your hands reached down to me.
I was with you at my grave today, you tend it with such care.
I want to re-assure you, that I’m not lying there.
I walked with you towards the house as you fumbled for your key.
I gently put my paw on you, I smiled and said, “It’s me.”
You looked so very tired, and sank into a chair
I tried so hard to let you know that I was standing there.
“”It’s possible for me to be so near you every day
To say to you with certainty, “I never went away.””
You sat there very quietly, then smiled; I think you knew…
In the stillness of that evening, I was very close to you.
The day is over… I smile and watch you yawning
And say “good-night, God bless, I’ll see you in the morning.”
And when the time is right for you to cross the brief divide,
I’ll rush across to greet you and we’ll stand, side by side.
I have so many things to show you, there is so much for you to see.
Be patient, live your journey out… then come home to be with me.
~Author Unknown~

Goodnight. Sleep tight.

“Parting is all we know of heaven, and all we need of hell”?

Slow down!

Tuesday, January 19th, 2010

REBELING AGAINST PERFECTIONISM
If you are trying to be creative or just plain -Living Life- we need to fall away from the mindset that strives for perfection. Being creative means for me to be, well, sloppy. Coming here to this “family”BLOG has been hard because it is just that “family” part that has been keeping me away. Well, fuck that then. From now on I’m going to be sloppy, besides, It seems to be just me here most of the time. Our family is consumed in the woderful world of Facebook and rightly so. It has been an incrediable tool for keeping in touch, laughing, posting photos etc etc. It has been healthy for me here to lay it out. Some kind of psychological suicide leap and splat. I have to own it. It takes guts sometimes to say what you feel TO WRITE what you feel without the fear of being judges and it can be very empowering.

The DECADE in Review
The general consensus: It sucked. Terrorism, Michael Jackson, Global warming, Floods Fires. To me it is all how you look at it. Our measure of time is a joke. First of all it is only a measure of time and secondly who cares. The next ten years, the next “decade” will bring even more floods and stupid celebrities deaths.

Let’s make a big deal out of the king of pops death. That poor freak of nature. Look what money and being famous did to him. The real celebrity of the decade, the REAL HERO, the unsung and saddest death that I hurt me this past decade was the loss of Dana Reeve
This woman stood by her man and took care of him and their son through the deepest of tragedy. When her husband passed away, her sudden, unexplainable, very sad death hurt me like no other. She was a true super woman. God rest her soul.

2009
The year 2009 was perhaps the most interesting and fullfilling for me in my forty-nine years as a male caucasian on this planet earth. Getting laid off in New York City and losing my housing triggered a chain of events that I could not even begin to write down. At one point I had no money, no gas, nowhere to stay and almost no hope. I was “stuck” in the mountains and woods of upstate NY. I hadn’t seen my children in weeks. I was disconnected from society. The micro waves couldn’t reach my cell phone. But I just knew it was temporary . I had learned that no matter how deep I got lost, if I did the footwork, I would pull out of it. I think this thing is called FAITH !

See, this little guy! Great start to a new decade!

See, this little guy! Great start to a new decade!

What Do We Teach Our Kids About Family Love?
Tell them to slow down, if you can. Teach them by example. This society is spinning so fast, at least here on the east coast it seems. Grow your own food. Chop wood. Carry water. Have dinner with the whole family, as a matter of fact, cook dinner, wash and dry the dishes with the whole family.

Or Else?
Or else this society is doomed. If we lose sense of “family” we will lose everything.

The Retard Got Carols Money, Now What?
Well, there might have been a reason for it, if you ever slowed down to think about it. Have you ever really thought about what it’s like not to have a place to go to at night?

Ahhhh, Whitman street. I remember those days like it was yesterday…..almost….but I was called “Retard” “Retard” I guess because I acted like one. Truthfully, for most of my life my head has been spinning. Thoughts and creative processes go faster than I can comprehend them. A cross between ADHD and severe depression but the real diagnosis was Bi-poplar. Finally after 49 years, someone figured it out. My medication has given me a new lease on life. All I want is four walls and a roof. A place to hang my hat. A warm bed. A little space to gather with my boys. Is that asking too fucking much out of life????

Maybe the best way to slow down is to sleep a little more, and pay more attention when you are awake.

urban runoff

Wednesday, December 30th, 2009
what lies behind us.....

what lies behind us.....

“What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

Without a Net………..Entry for September 3, 2008

Sunday, May 10th, 2009


It was thirty years ago today. I went to my first Dead concert at almost brand new Giants stadium. It was a very long strange trip for sure. It went on for a long time with my brothers. Traveling to allot of different places. Meeting so many people. The art was always so fresh and it covered the parking lots, shirts, faces and stage. Camping, tripping, getting busted, fights, getting lost, getting high….I always liked the small theaters, Stanley in Pittsburg, the Capital in Jersey and I was blesssed to see them at Radio City Music Hall in NYC. After they became a money making machine, Brent the keyboard player overdosed, they played in big stadiums to crowds that half-cared about the vibes and music. Americas greatest secret vacation had become a “cool trend” Will the rain stop in Florida? Everytime I talk to Grant the amount increases ten fold. In our last phone conversation it was 75 inches of rain that has fallen on Florida. Florida Hartmans-get in your boat and float up here and have some tomato sandwiches with me. I picked fifty on my birthday. And we only have 5 plants.

Dad if you ONLY KNEW. The will of God took you away and I wonder what y’all are doing up there. Brenda, Beverly and Carol probably laughing their asses off, telling stories. Dad you were a fucking idiot. The more I read your endless pages of bullshit in your journals. Never once did you mention any of your children by name. Your life was money. Numbers, the Sewing Center and saving your soul. Nobody remembers you. You never gave us the chance because business came first. Some of us remember getting the shit kicked out of us, I gotta give you that much. Mysterious dark figure. In the Summer I remember the smell of gasoline, fresh-cut grass and you….aqua-velva and cigars.

THE END of Summer. Always so quick. In this red tomato sky, my boys are huge. Taller than me and sometimes smarter than me. Walking on the boardwalk, trying to find that “last hurray” the final salute to a season lost. Another lost sibling. If I am just a ballon head in the photos—you are all gathered around her funeral….holding hands in a dream. Heads bowed down in prayer. But the surviving eight peeking up. Looking around at each other. Wondering who will be next. How many balloons will we need. I can still put my feet in the sand. The kids are going to school. Football season. Catch maybe one more huge wave from the churning sea. The seemingly endless pounding waves (bigger because of the hurricanes down yonder.) I miss my boys being little. I miss Brenda and the red tomato skys of Summer.

Maddy Cleans up her act………Entry for May 23, 2008

Saturday, May 9th, 2009


Seems Glenn Jr has been teaching Maddy early techniques in street art.
Maddy and her friend were seen hanging from a railroad bridge with spraypaint cans and retreated to a much safer, Chalk on the Sidewalk.
Check it out!

Prettyful Flowers

Just an example of some new artwork by Madison. Seems that she is surrounded by creativity in her family so she continues the heritage.

Jump right to her art page here!

Way to go Maddy!!!