Life Memories of Thomas Richmond (1848-1917)

an AI-assisted (by Claude Sonnet 4) Q&A memoir from my great-grandfather based on my genealogy research

Thomas Richmond's Life Memories

As told to his children and grandchildren in 1911, at age 63

Tell me about your childhood. Who was in your family, where did you live, did you go to school, did you work, what fun did you have?

My childhood was split between two worlds, and I consider myself fortunate for it. I was born in 1848 in Hilperton, a small village in Wiltshire, England, to your grandfather James Richman—we spelled it differently then—and your grandmother, born Hannah Rich. Father worked as a coal merchant laborer, hauling and selling coal to neighbors, while Mother was a skilled woolen weaver. By the time I was two, I had a little brother James, and our family kept growing with sisters Louisa, Elizabeth, and Emma.

Our cottage in Hilperton was small but filled with warmth. I remember the stone walls, the sound of Mother's loom clicking away, and the rolling green countryside that surrounded our village. Those early years in England gave me a love for the old ways and an appreciation for skilled handwork that has stayed with me all my life.

When I was eight years old—though the ship records mistakenly listed me as six—everything changed. In November 1856, we boarded the British Ship Osprey in Bristol for the crossing to America. What an adventure that was! The voyage took weeks, and I'll never forget my first sight of New York Harbor. Mother made the journey with us children while Father had gone ahead to find work and a place for us to live. It was so wonderful to see Father again after a year!

We settled in Burrillville, Rhode Island, in the mill country. This is where my American education began—and what a blessing that was! In England, children like us rarely had such opportunities for schooling. I attended school alongside my siblings, learning to read and write properly, which served me well throughout my career. The family continued to grow with more children born on American soil, including little Hannah, our first true American, and then Edwin and John. We moved to Putnam, Connecticut in 1865 when Father found a mill job and then bought a dairy farm.

For fun, we had simple pleasures—exploring the New England towns and countryside, especially the ponds and rivers with wildlife. We helped with family chores, and watched the great textile mills operate. Even as a boy, I was fascinated by the machinery and the transformation of raw materials into finished cloth. Those mills were like cathedrals of industry to a child's eyes.

(Thomas Richmond ca 1875 from family collections)

What occupations did you have?

My entire working life has been devoted to the textile industry, following in the footsteps of my dear mother's weaving work, though with far more machinery involved! I started at the bottom in the Connecticut mills, learning every aspect of wool preparation and carding—the crucial process of preparing raw wool for spinning into yarn.

Through diligence and a genuine love for the craft, I worked my way up to become an overseer while still in my twenties. My first major position was with the Westerly Woolen Company in Rhode Island. From there, my career took me across New England—to mills in Salisbury and Elmville in Connecticut, then to Leominster, Massachusetts, and back to Putnam, Connecticut.

I've had the privilege of being recognized as one of the finest woolen carders in all of New England, which fills me with great pride. Currently, I work with the Putnam Woolen Company, and I'm a member of the National Association of Woolen and Worsted Overseers, which keeps me connected with the best practices in our industry.

Beyond the mills, I've also served our community as choir director at St. Philip's Episcopal Church in Putnam. Music has always been a passion of mine, and leading the choir has allowed me to contribute to our spiritual life while exercising talents that bring me great joy.

What was the hardest challenge in your life?

Without question, the hardest challenge has been burying my children. No parent should have to lay their child to rest, yet your mother and I have endured this heartbreak twice. Little Frederic died when he was only five years old—just a small boy full of promise. That loss nearly broke our hearts, and the grief never fully leaves you.

Then we lost Charles Percival this year in 1911, when he should have been in the prime of his life. Each of these losses tested our faith and strained our spirits in ways I can barely describe. The only thing that sustained us was our belief that they were in God's hands and the love and support of our surviving children.

The everyday challenges—immigrant poverty, learning new ways in a new country, working my way up from the bottom of the mill hierarchy—these were difficult, but they were challenges I could face with determination and hard work. The loss of children is something no amount of effort can fix or prevent, and that helplessness is the hardest burden I've ever carried.

(Thomas and Juliette Richmond family in about 1888, probably in Putnam, Conn., from family collection)

What major life decisions did you make and how did they work out?

The most significant decision of my life was marrying your dear mother, Julia E. White, on June 20, 1868, when we were both just twenty years old. What a blessing that union has been! Juliette—as I've always called her—was born right here in Connecticut to Rhode Island parents, so she brought true New England heritage to our family. She has been my partner in every sense for over forty years now, standing by me through career changes, family joys, and heartbreaking sorrows. Together we've raised nine children, and she's managed our household with grace and wisdom while I worked long hours at the mills. Her strength during our children's illnesses and deaths has been remarkable, and her love has been the steady foundation that made everything else in my life possible. I cannot imagine what my American story would have been without her by my side.

Another significant decision of my life was becoming an American citizen on September 10, 1890. I had lived in this country for 34 years, built my career here, raised my family here, but I had never formally renounced my British allegiance. Standing before Judge S.A. Robinson in the Superior Court in Putnam, I took the oath to support the Constitution of the United States and formally severed my ties to Queen Victoria and the United Kingdom.

It was an emotional moment—I was rejecting the land of my birth while embracing the country that had given me every opportunity to succeed. But it felt right and necessary. America had been my true home since I was a boy, and making it official seemed like completing a journey that had begun on that ship crossing the Atlantic decades earlier.

The decision has worked out beautifully. I feel fully American now, with no divided loyalties or lingering questions about where I belong. This is my country, these are my people, and I've contributed to the industrial strength and community life that makes America great. I'm proud to be an American citizen, and I'm proud that my children were born into this citizenship that I had to earn.

(Thomas and Juliette Richmond family in about 1898 in Leominster, Mass., from family collection)

What was your biggest accomplishment?

My biggest accomplishment is raising a family of good, honest, hardworking Americans with your mother Juliette. We brought nine children into this world, and despite the heartbreaking losses we've endured, we've raised sons and daughters who contribute to their communities, work honestly for their living, and carry forward the values we've tried to instill.

Professionally, I'm proud of the reputation I've earned in the textile industry. To be recognized as one of New England's finest woolen carders represents decades of learning, improving, and sharing knowledge with others. I've helped train countless young men in the trade, and I've seen the industry grow and modernize throughout my career.

But truly, my children are my greatest work. Annie caring for others, Bessie building her own family (she just named her infant Frederick!), Emily's and Charlie’s adventurous spirit taking them to California, Everett, Grace, and Edwin’s families in Leominster, and Jimmy also in Leominster, and all the grandchildren who are now coming along—this is the legacy that matters most to me. I look forward to telling these stories again to all of them.

What are you proudest of?

I'm proudest of the fact that our family has maintained its closeness and values through all the changes and challenges life has brought us. We immigrated from England, adapted to American ways, weathered financial hardships, celebrated professional successes, and mourned terrible losses—yet we've remained united and supportive of one another.

I'm also proud that I've earned respect in my profession and my community. The work I've done in the textile mills has been honest and skilled, contributing to an industry that clothes people and provides good employment. My service to St. Philip's Church has enriched our spiritual community, and I hope I've been a good neighbor and citizen.

Most of all, I'm proud that we've lived with integrity. We've worked hard, treated others fairly, honored our commitments, and tried to leave every place a little better than we found it. That's a legacy worth leaving.

How do you want to be remembered?

I want to be remembered as a man who made the most of the opportunities America offered to an immigrant boy. I hope people will say that Thomas Richmond was a skilled craftsman who took pride in his work, a family man who loved his wife and children deeply, and a community member who contributed to the common good.

I'd like to be remembered as someone who bridged two worlds—carrying the best of English traditions while embracing American possibilities. I want my descendants to know that their heritage includes both the ancient skills of English wool workers and the innovative spirit of American industry.

Most importantly, I want to be remembered as a man of faith who found joy in simple things—good work, family gatherings, leading the church choir, and watching the next generation grow up strong and capable. If people remember me as decent and reliable, I'll be content.

What advice do you have for your grandchildren?

My dear grandchildren, you are growing up in a world of unprecedented opportunity. America in 1911 offers possibilities that would have been unimaginable when I was born in that small English village sixty-two years ago.

First, never forget the value of honest work. No matter what occupation you choose, approach it with pride and determination to excel. I started at the bottom of the textile mills and worked my way up through skill and persistence. There is dignity in all honest labor, and mastery of any craft brings its own rewards.

Second, remember that you are Americans by birth, but this citizenship comes with responsibilities. Participate in your communities, contribute to the common good, and never take for granted the freedoms and opportunities this country provides. I had to earn my citizenship after 34 years in America—you were born to it, so honor it.

Third, education is a treasure that no one can take from you. I was fortunate to attend school in Rhode Island, something that wouldn't have been possible for a working-class boy in England. Whatever learning opportunities come your way, seize them with both hands.

Fourth, hold your family close. The bonds between parents and children, brothers and sisters, are among life's greatest blessings. Support each other through difficulties, celebrate each other's successes, and remember that family love is often the only thing that sustains us through life's hardest trials.

Finally, maintain your faith and find ways to serve others. Whether through church, community organizations, or simple acts of neighborly kindness, look for opportunities to contribute to something larger than yourself. The choir work I've done at St. Philip's has brought me as much satisfaction as any professional achievement.

You are the inheritors of an immigrant's dream realized. Make the most of it, and someday, when you're old like your grandfather, you'll be able to look back on a life well-lived and stories worth telling to your own grandchildren.