Today's Google Doodle Honors a Legend

My dad has had a lot of cool jobs and worked with lots of cool people. He's even worked for a legend. Today Google is honoring a computer pioneer and my dad's old boss, Admiral Grace Hopper on what would have been her 107 birthday. As many American's did, Grace Hopper joined the Navy during World War II. Unlike most American's she remained in the Navy until 1986, when she was retired for the last time as the oldest active-duty commissioned officer.The Navy wisely assigned the newly minted officer with a Phd in mathematics to the Bureau of Ships Computation Project and the results have changed our world. Techno geeks can wax on about her contributions to the 1st computer, invention of the COBOL and more. I will remember her from the stories my dad would tell. 

The most famous computer bug

When I complained about a bug in a program, dad asked, do you know why it's called a bug? And launched into the story of how one day his boss was working on a programming problem on a computer so big you could literally walk thru it. When a glitch occurred, workers would have to visually inspect the entire computer looking for the problem. On this particular day, the culprit was a moth stuck to a component. Grace proclaimed the problem fixed and the computer "de-bugged". The term stuck. For that matter, so did the moth. It is permanently stuck in the log book and on display at the Smithsonian's Museum of American History. 

Dad says Admiral Hopper was a character. The thing that sticks out in his mind most is her habit of picking up an object and chucking it at an employee crying "let's play". The recipient of the object would sit down to chat with Grace. On one such chat with her, she encouraged dad to go back to school. He complied and earned his masters at night from UPenn's Wharton School. After watching this clip of Admiral Hopper schooling David Letterman, I can imagine her "let's play chats". 

I've met many of my dad's bosses. I wish I could have met fellow DAR sister, the dazzling daughter Grace Murray Hopper. Happy Birthday, 'mam.

Arlington National Cemetery

Yesterday I attended the internment of my cousin's husband at Arlington National Cemetery. This is not the first family member who has been laid to rest on this hallowed ground. My uncle (USN) joined his wife in 2010, and there is at least one other known to me.

Dad at John Armstrong's Grave

The history of Arlington itself is interesting. The mansion was originally built by the grandson of President George Washington. It became the residence of Robert E Lee after his marriage to the grandson's daughter. Arlington House as it was known, was confiscated by the Union at the outbreak of the Civil War. On June 15, 1864 Brigadier General Montgomery Meigs appropriated the property as a military cemetery. Sixteen days later Private John Armstrong died in a Washington DC hospital of gunshot wounds received in battle. He was one of the first soldiers buried in Arlington National Cemetery. 

History Does Matter

My nephew often complains that history is boring, that it isn’t relatable to the present. Tonight I have proof that his hypothesis is wrong. And that the proof involves his family past and present.

Joe Armstrong at
John Armstrong's grave

I’ve had a road block regarding information on my great-great-great grandpa John Armstrong. In my ongoing ancestry quest, I attended a chat tonight on Civil War research tips hoping for someone to help me find more information on John. While I didn’t find a lot of information on John’s individual record, I did find a fascinating book “The Story of the Forty-Eighth, a record of the campaigns of the Forty-Eighth Regiment Pennsylvania veteran volunteer infantry during the four eventful years of it’s service in the war for the preservation of the union” by Joseph Gould. This particular John Armstrong served in the 48^th regiment from 1861 until his death in 1864.
 

The first story that touched me was about the early 1864 furlough of the regiment (pg 156). That trip took the regiment by train from Pittsburgh to Altoona and finally home to Pottsville. What struck me about this trip was the history of these locations for my family. This John came to America from the Isle of Mann in 1838 settling in Pottsville to work as a miner prior to the war.  My 2nd great-grandpa, Michael Armstrong, and his son Edward Lewis also worked the mines until Edward left the area to work on the railroad in Altoona. 

If this was my John Armstrong, he would have left for the war when Michael was 7 and he was dead by the time Michael was 11. He never would have met my great-grandpa Edward or my grandfather or father whom both born in Altoona. He would never know how the tracks he traveled on his last trip home would 87 years later take his great-great grandson on the reverse trip from Altoona to Pittsburgh where my father met my mother.

At this point in time the only facts I know about John’s time in the war are about his final battle at the Spotsylvania Courthouse in May of 1864. Private John Armstrong was wounded by gunshot on May 12^th in Spotsylvania, sent to a backline hospital in Washington DC where he succumbed to his wounds on July 1, 1864. He was laid to rest in Arlington National Cemetery.

On the day Private John Armstrong was mortally wounded, another soldier Comrade John Morrisey had a premonition he would not survive the day (pgs 178-179). Morrisey turned to his friend Sgt William Wells beseeching him to relay a message to his sister Mary that he died facing the enemy. As the battle commenced, Comrade John Morrisey was shot through the head. During a lull in the battle, Sgt Wells buried his friend.  Later during the war, Sgt Wells was injured and sent to a hospital in Chestnut Hill, Pennsylvania where John’s sister Mary Morrisey found him. Sgt Wells shared with Mary Morrisey her brother’s last words. This story gave me chills when I realized not only that John Morrisey and Private John Armstrong fought in a battle on the same day that ultimately killed them both, but the hospital where Sgt Wells and Mary Morrisey met was the same hospital where I born... Can anyone say small world.