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16C432711 Margaret Isabel Smith, b _ 1891 MN; ; d _____
; m Gerald Walker; (see below)
16C432712 Carmen B. Smith, b _ 1893 MN; ; d _____ ;
16C432713 Cedric Smith, b _ 1895 MN; ; d _____ ;
16C432714 Keneth Smith, b _ 1903 MI; ; d _____ ;
Sources:
Bigelow Family Genealogy Volume. II page 282 child;
Book of the Locke, by J.G. Locke
Edwin Bigelow Civil War Records;
Subject: Isabel S Bigelow b. 1867
Date: Tue, 24 Jun 2008 09:05:28 -0400
From: "Scott Barker" <sbarker3@ptd.net>
Rod
1895 census Minneapolis Minnesota Ward 8
1900 census Minneapolis Minnesota Ward 8
1910 census Bay Michigan Ward 2
The census records above note that Isabel Bigelow married Carmen N Smith
in 1890 and had the following children:
Margaret J b. 1891 in Minnesota
Carmen B b. 1893 in Minnesota
Cedric b. 1895 in Minnesota
Keneth b. 1903 in Michingan
From Carmen N. Smith:
Notes below for ISABEL S BIGELOW: From Edwin Bigelow Civil War
Diary: “Information relative to her father, diarist Bigelow, was
secured from Mrs. Carman N. Smith of Jackson in a personal interview”.
Children of ISABEL 8 BIGELOW and CARMAN SMITH are:
i. CARMAN BIGELOW
9 SMITH, b __ ; d ____ .
ii. Margaret Isabel Smith 9
SMITH, b __ 1891 MN; d ____ ; m Gerald Walker.
Child of Margaret SMITH and Gerald WALKER is:
i. Gerald Steven 10
WALKER, b 04 June 1924 Denver, CO, d 14 June 2006 Denver, CO, m 1948 Eileen
Runner( she d 1985); 4 children:
Peggy, Erika D., Robert, and Nancy Walker.
Obituary of Gerald Steven Walker:
Gerald Steven Walker
born: Denver, Colorado: June 4, 1924
died: Denver, Colorado: June 14, 2006
BRIEF BIOGRAPHY:
Gerald was born at St. Luke's Hospital in Denver. He lived
with his parents, Gerald and Margaret Walker, in Denver until he was five
when the family moved to Limon, Colorado. He graduated from High School
in Limon in 1942 and started college at Colorado State in Fort Collins.
In December 1942, he enlisted in the army and joined ROTC.
In 1943, he was called to active status and began basic training at Fort
Bragg, North Carolina. Eventually he served with the 70th Infantry
Division, also called the Trail Blazers, who landed in France in December
1944, during the Battle of the Bulge. Gerald was in active duty in
Frnce and Germany until the war ended and then he served in the army of occupation.
He returned to the states in April, 1946.
After the war, Gerald returned to CSU where he earned a bachelor's
degree in economics and a master's degree in education in 1951. He
started his PhD in psychology but left school to begin work. After
he completed his education, he began his career at Lowry Air Force Base where
he held a variety of positions including research psychologist and supervisory
systems analyst. In his work with the Human Resources Lab at Lowry,
he was among those who first developed individualized computer-based education.
Gerald married Eileen Runner in 1948. They had four children: Peggy,
Erika, Bob and Nancy. He was a loving father and will be greatly missed.
Gerald retired in 1990." - - - -
"Remembering My Father, Gerald Walker" by Erika Walker, June 23, 2006
"Today, we are here to celebrate the life of my father, Gerald
Steven Walker.
Jerry, a third generation Coloradoan, was born in St. Luke's
Hospital, and at age three, moved with his parents Jerry and Maggie to Limon.
He graduated from Limon High School in 1942 and started college at CSU.
Realizing he would soon be drafted he enlisted in the army and was called
to active duty in 1943. A member of the 70th Infantry division, the
"Trail Blazers," he participated in the Battle of the Bulge. After
the war, he served in the army of occupation in Germany before returning
home in 1946. Back at CUS, he became a commissioned officer in ROTC and joined
the Air Force Reserves, earning the rank of Lt. Colonel before he retired
in 1990.
In 1951, he graduated from CSU with his master's degree in education.
He started his PhD in psychology but later, thinking he wouldn't enjoy that
sort of work, left college to begin his career at Lowry Air Force Base.
His first job was teaching statistics and later he became chief of data automation.
He liked computers and encouraged us to make them part of our future career
plans. He switched jobs to work for the Human Resources Lab as a program
manager and was among those who pioneered the use of computers for educational
and training purposes. After the Human Resources Lab moved to Texas
in 1986, Jerry worked at the Finance Center until he retired in 1990.
Jerry's family was important to him. He married Eileen
Runner in 1948, after they met at CSU. After Jerry started working
at Lowry, they bought a house in Aurora and raised four children. I
think my dad was reasonably proud of us but, never one to brag, he would
occasionally comment, "Your mother and I must have done something right -
none of the kids are in jail." (To which I always added, a qualified
... yet.) After he retired, Jerry enjoyed many years of golfing and traveling
with family and friends. Of course it is impossible to sum up Jerry's life,
so I am just going to tell a few stories that I think especially illustrate
who he was and why he was important to me.
My dad taught us many important lessons. Every Saturday
morning, when we did our famiy chores together he taught us the satisfaction
of hard work. He began teaching me the importance of saving money when
I was five and he took me to Western Federal Savings and helped me open my
first bank account. I still remember how proud I felt when he handed
me the pass book with my name on it. We shared many good times. When
we were children, he took us camping in the Rockies for two weeks every summer.
I remember getting up at dawn to go fishing with him and later, if we were
lucky, enjoying trout with our eggs, bacon and biscuits for breakfast.
The deep connection he gave me to the mountains is one of the most sustaining
forces in my life. Later, after I left home, we enjoyed many winter
vacations together in Mexico and Florida. He enjoyed being a grandfather
and I remember the many stories he read to Stephen.
When I think of my dad, I always think of his sense of humor.
One night, he tucked me into bed and was standing in the doorway of my room.
Stalling for time, groping for some way to hault the inevitability of lights
out, I noticed his hand on the light switch. "Dad," I said quickly,
"How does electricity work?" Without missing a beat, he smiled and said,
"Riki in life, some things remain mysteries. One of these is God, another
is electricity. Good night." And he turned off the light and
left my room.
More recently, I was having lunch at Aspen Village with my Dad
and his friend Roger. My dad was not feeling well, he coughed often
and was more quiet than usual. I asked Roger how he had come to live
in Denver. Before Roger could answer, my dad smiled and said, "Roger
came out on the train with the pioneers."
I also think of how steadfast my dad was. In recent years,
as Jerry's health began to decline, he slowed down. Pain in his legs
ended his golfing. He developed trouble breathing. When I'd come
to visit, I'd often get up early. I'd hear the slap of his slippers
as he slowly walked down the hall from his bedroom.
"Good morning dad," I'd say, "how are you?" Well bred
and a gentleman, he never complained. He'd lean against the dishwasher
to rest his aching legs, cough, catch his breath and reply, "I'm here."
For the first time, I appreciated how true this was. My
dad HAD always been here ... for all of us. An only child, he took
good care of his mother, Maggie. He was a good husband to my mother
until she died in 1985 and he was a good father. Every day he came
home for dinner at 5:00. He cut the grass, locked up the house every
night, ate the burned toast that no one else wanted, and, on more than one
occasion, buried the family cat.
Yet, at times, my dad frustrated me. A very private person,
he didn't talk much about himself - or about anything else. It often
felt like work to get him to talk.
In recent years, I became more intentional and interviewed him
about his ife. As a result, I came to understand more of who he was
and of the forces of history which had shaped him. I came to know him
more as a person, not just as my dad.
We drove to Limon, where he grew up during the depression.
He showed me his famiy home and elementary school and told me how, at times,
he walked to school in dust storms, with a wet rag over his mouth and nose.
We saw the Methodist Church his family attended and where they
ate out afterwards. I thought it was interesting that the blueberry
pie he always ate seemed to make a greater impression on him than any Methodist
theology that came his way. (My dad always loved good food.)
We visited the Limon train station, which is now a museum.
It was here that my dad said goodbye to his parents, at age 19, and boarded
the train for Fort Logan to begin his military service. As he described
his experience of leaving home, I compared it to my own. With my white
Samsonite luggage beside me -- my graduation gift -- I had said goodbye to
my parents at Stapleton Airport, heading for my first year at college in
Florida.
I told him, I felt ashamed of how much easier my life had been
than his. In his characteristicly understated way, he said, "I did
what anyone would do. When life calls you to serve, you too will rise
to the occasion."
This is one of the most important lessons he taught me.
You do what life calls you do [to].
I thought of this often in the last year and a half of my father's
life as I watched him bear his illness. He was often short of breath
and coughing. His legs continued to bother him and eventually he had
to use a walker. He didn't sleep well at night and yet, even tough
he was tired, he got himself to meals and accomplished what he needed to.
In the end I learned most about who my father was not by what
he said, but by what he did. Over and over, he faced what life brought
him and he did it with courage, humor and dignity.
My hope is that I can do the same.
One last story: As I said, my father was reserved but,
as he grew older, he mellowed. He relaxed and became more open.
He was more comfortable being hugged and, when I told him I loved him, he
told me he loved me back. He even grew to enjoy playing a board game
called Life Stories. As players moved around the board, they drew cards
which instructed them to share an observation or tell a story.
When we played last Christmas, I drew a card that asked, "When
you die, what would you like to have written on your tombstone." As
I paused to consider this question my dad jumped in saying, "That you did
the best you could."
I knew immediately that this is what HE would have liked.
So Dad, I'm saying it today. I know that you did the best you could
... and your best was good, very good." - - - -
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