Meet Margaret Graham Kerr Glass Scott, posted on June 24, 2025
In December of 1890, Margaret G. K. G. Scott received a postcard from the Chicago Watch Company, located at 142 Dearborn Street, Chicago, Illinois.
On the back of the postcard we find the following mysterious message:
Dec 13/1890
Goods shipped today to Mebane.
How exciting!
What did Margaret buy? Was it a watch for herself or perhaps a present for someone else?
Was she having something repaired? And why all the way from Chicago? Why not just buy something in town.
Perhaps buying the watch was not her decision at all. The item might have been chosen for her by one of her four remaining children several of whom traveled for business. The postcard could have spilled the beans or was a sly ploy to pique her curiosity, to create a sense of anticipation. After all, Christmas was on its way.
At this point in her life, Margaret was sixty-eight years old. She was nearing the end of her life and would pass away two years later, in 1892. Her oldest son, Sam, was a merchant in Mebane, North Carolina. Her son James Edwin was in the tobacco business and her youngest son, Robert, was a farmer.
The Scott Family Collection is fortunate to have several photos of Margaret, but they do not give much away regarding her personality. In each of them, she is not smiling but rather faces the camera with a stoic expression. In the photo reproduced here, Margaret is seated, slightly off-center, and is wearing a pair of tinted glasses. She looks fierce, like someone not to be trifled with.
But in fact, this was not the case. Margaret was kind and attentive, and devoted to her family. During her lifetime, she buried two husbands and seven of her eleven children without complaint. She did tell her sons that she wished they were more affectionate towards her. In response, they assured her that they loved her very much and held her in the highest regard.
I wonder if we will ever know what was in the package. Sometimes when you least expect it, another puzzle piece falls into place. . .
