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The Rankins Family of the Mohawk Valley, Mohawk, NY (2026)

05/31/2026

It has been a few months since I last posted to this FB page. I'm recovering from quadruple bypass surgery which was done on March 3rd, 2026. Its taken some time but I am doing fine. Soon I will get back to sharing information about the Rankins family.

02/11/2026

My great great grandfather Norman Rankins served as the executor of the estate of his brother Amos. Some of the papers, photos, and letters were saved and passed on down the line of family members. I'm scanning and taking photos of some just to serve as examples of the times. Amos lived and worked in the city of Little Falls. Here is a sample of the times- the annual school tax!

02/10/2026

Part 13 Ken

My grandfather Russ Rankins sat at his typewriter on the 31st of December 1969 and wrote about his brother Ken. I'm so glad to have this remembrance. I knew my Great Uncle as many a late afternoon I'd walk to his house on West Center St. in Mohawk to await a ride home when my dad got out of work at Re*****on Arms. These were afternoons when I had after school activities. Uncle Ken and I always had good chats!

“My brother, Charles Kenneth Rankins, was born September 4, 1904, on the farm then known as the Casler Farm. On Sandy Lane, in the town of Little Falls. He was the second son in a family of six. About the first of January 1908 when he was a little past three years of age the family moved to the Gardinier farm in Paradise. In September 1909 he started school at the old district number 9, town of Danube, being five years old at the time. The teacher at that time was a Mrs. Andrew Baldwin from Little Falls. From the start Ken never liked school, although he always got reasonably good marks and got along well with the other kids. But he never could seem to get interested in the more active games that the other kids liked.
Late in December of 1912 when he was eight years old the family moved to the Bellinger (Deyo) farm in the town of Little Falls. Until June of that year we went to school at the old Stone House school. The following September Dad made arrangements for us to go to the Bellinger (Bright’s Corners school. The teacher that year was Miss Delite Mower from Smith’s Corners. September 1914
I was going to school in Little Falls, but Gene started in school with Ken that fall, and they continued to do so as long as we lived on the Bellinger farm. When the family moved back onto the Casler farm in December of 1915, it became necessary that they go to the Stone House school again, but by this time conditions had changed somewhat and the kids there were not quite as rough and tough as they had been a few years earlier. A year or two later the old school house burned down one Sunday night. That was a happy day for Ken. Arrangements were made shortly with the town board for use of the town hall as a school until the new school could be built. Years later after the district schools were centralized, this new school-house was used as the Grange Hall. If my memory is correct, Ken did not go back to school in the fall of 1920, the year we moved to Mohawk. By this time he was sixteen and through the eighth grade.
A neighbor, E.H. Brown, who owned and operated a farm on route 5s and what is now the Markward farm, did quite a bit of market gardening, and for a couple of years Ken worked there when needed for weeding and hoeing. One fall he had a few traps set for muskrat down along Carver’s Creek. One morning he caught a mink in a trap set for muskrats. He got $13.00 for the pelt, which was a lot of money for a farm boy in those days.
As I have mentioned before, he was never interested in the rougher games that most kids seemed to enjoy. His interests were in what went on inside the house. He learned to bake when he was only about eight or nine years old, and a little later he learned to knit. I recall a pair of mittens that he knitted when he was no more than ten or eleven years old. When he was a bit younger, he had a china head doll that he thought a lot of. This had come from Uncle Amos Rankins estate and had belonged to his daughter Lena, which name Ken gave to the doll.
After the family moved to Mohawk in the fall of 1920, he worked at what odd jobs he could pick up until he went to work in the Re*****on Cash Register Company in the summer of 1922. He worked there until the plant closed down in the fall of 1931. He always managed to save some of his money, although being the main support of the house until Isabelle went to work after her graduation from high school in 1926. Shortly after he was laid off from Re*****on Cash Register the National Mohawk Valley Bank (now Oneida National) where he had his money deposited, closed for the bank holiday. When they finally settled accounts, they only paid off 66 1/3 %. How much he lost I never knew, but I imagine it was considerable. It was nearly four years before he went back to work in the shop. During this time, he worked at whatever odd jobs that came along. We cut wood for Buck (Francis) Edick when the Mohawk Library was remodeled and enlarged, (about 1935) and on another job for the Renken Dairy in Frankfort. One summer he worked for about six weeks with Harry Brooks on a painting job up at the Cruger Mansion in Henderson.
For about three years, starting early in 1928 we had the garage down at the end of Warren Street. It was about this time he bought his first car, a 1922 Model T coupe. Later he had a 1923 touring car, and it was this car that he, Gene, Aunt Mary Murray and my mother drove to Providence, R.I. to visit cousin Frank Petit. A year or two later when Frank died, they drove down again for the funeral, this time with a Ford sedan. Sometime later he had a Model A Ford sedan, but he never drove any of them very much. Later on he had a Chevrolet coupe, but I don’ recall whether he ever put a license on it.
It was the fall of 1929 that he bought a lot up at Hollywood Hills (Old Forge), the same time Uncle Nelson Murray bought his. At the time Ken had plans of building a camp, but the depression came along, then the war. He bought the house a 17 west Center St. in the fall of 1945 and worked on that until they moved in late in the next summer. By the time he had things the way he wanted them my mother had her last sickness. It was probably about this time that he gave up any plans for a camp. He still liked to go up there and putter around.
He continued his work at Re*****on Rand in Ilion until failing health forced him to quit in 1955. That year he was in Herkimer and Cooperstown hospitals a total of about sixteen weeks. At this time the doctors gave him but a few months to live, but he made a recovery and the following year returned to work for a short time. But it was again necessary for him to give up steady work, and on recommendation of Dr. Shaughnessy he applied for social security retirement benefits. He continued on with the care of his house and occasional odd jobs around the neighborhood, with the exception of a set-back when he returned to Bassett Hospital for about five days. Again he recovered and after Isabelle died late in 1962, he continued to live on alone, doing his housework and own cooking.
To go back a bit, I believe it was about 1924 or 1925, he became interested in automobile repair work and went to an auto school in Utica a night or two a week during that winter, until when he got up there he learned that Al Coram, who ran the school had taken off for parts unknown. That ended school, but the following fall Ken worked for a few weeks in Pete Spizzaro’s Nash Garage, which was then located in the big brick barn which stands back of Comstock’s Gulf Station. At the time Pete needed someone to repair Model T Fords. I believe it was the summer of 1924 that he ran a gas station on the corner of Columbia and Hammond Streets. Don Gloo’s house now stands on the spot. After we gave up the garage on Warren St. he wanted no more part in auto repair work. He said it made his back ache just to watch anyone else working on a car. He did seem to enjoy working about the house and yard, both at Mother’s home a 19 North Street and his own house at 17 west Center St. Even during the past summer when his health was failing he managed to keep his home clean and in order. All during the last months of his sickness he had great concern that his bills were promptly paid.
At Christmas time he always managed to get around to buy presents for the family, especially the kids and always seemed to enjoy being with the rest of the family.
When he was about thirteen or fourteen years old he became interested in playing the violin. He took lessons for about a year and a half from Arvid Mitchel in Little Falls. This was during the time we were living on Sandy Lane for the second time. He practiced diligently enough but didn’t seem to have the ear for music, so he finally gave it up. He hardly ever touched the violin again.
In January of this year his health troubles became worse. On January 29 he was admitted to Bassett Hospital. By February 18 he had improved and was released. In March he returned to the hospital until April third when he was again released. He seemed to be much improved, being able to keep the yard mowed and doing little odd jobs around his place. He again entered the hospital on September 8 and began to worsen. In October he was released but upon the recommendation of his doctor for placement in the Fairfield Rest Home. On November 2 he was returned to Bassett. He was released and placed in the Three Mapes Rest Home in Fort Herkimer. His health continued to fail. He died in Herkimer Hospital finally suffering from pneumonia. The funeral was from the Graves-Applegate Funeral Home, Friday December5, with Reverend William Wilbur conducting the service. He and Ken had been friends for well over forty years. In the spring Ken will be buried in the Mohawk Cemetery beside our Father, Mother, and Isabelle.”

Russ Rankins, December 31, 1969

02/07/2026

My grandfather Rankins (Russell) was quite a story teller and seemed to have a saying to fit most circumstances. On an old envelope he had written down some sayings that were from a time gone by.

Describing weather : Drier than a covered bridge!
Someone's personality: Crazy as a loon.
A view of someone: Behind like a cow's tail.
A tool: Handy as a shirt pocket.
Work ethic: Lazy folds work best when the sun is in the west.
Awareness: Blind in one eye, can't see out of the other.
Supper time: So hungry my stomach thinks my throat is cut.
Smarts: He don't know beans. or Don't know enough to come in
out of the rain.
Cleverness: More than one way to skin a cat.
One's demeanor: Contrary as a pig on ice.
Measure of distance: Higher than Gilroy's kite.
Descriptive of personality: Slower than molasses in January. or
Rough as a cob.
Frugal: Tight as bark on a tree.
Picture someone: Belly like a poisoned perp. or Eyes like holes
burned in a blanket.
Before a brawl: I'll hit you so hard you'll stink before you hit the
floor.

02/06/2026

I for the longest time thought I had only a single photo of my great great grandfather Norman Rankins however I stumbled upon a second photo recently. Norman is on the right and my great grandfather James Freeman Rankins (Norman's son) is on the left. Considering their attire it must have been a holiday from farm work!

02/04/2026

part 12 - The Ingrahams

Another look into the Rankins family as told by my Grandfather Russell. Here he tells of his mother Esther Mae Ingraham.

Part 12

My mother, Esther Mae Ingraham, the daughter of Ellen Benson and William O. Ingraham was born April 10, 1876 in the city of Little Falls, N.Y. She was the fourth of ten children. Uncle Will was the oldest, then Fred, a daughter who died when a baby, my mother, Charles who was drowned when about 10 years old, Aunt Mary Murray, Aunt Nellie Salisbury, Aunt Cora, whowas married three times, Aunt Carrie Ferguson, and Uncle Ben Ingraham. I believe the house where she was born stood on West Main St. a little west of the H.P. Snyder plant. I can't be too definite on this but I think she went to school in the Church St. school and possibly to the East Jefferson St. school. I do know that some of the younger ones of the family went there, but none of them went to school very long. Uncle Will was working in the mill when he was ten years old. My mother worked in the mills also but how old she was or how long she worked there I do not know. She was about twenty years old when my Grandmother died of cancer, and it seems that it was up to her to become a second mother to the younger ones, Ben being only three years old at the time. The family was living at this time on Southern Avenue in an apartment house known as the Red Hook. She was living here when she and my father were married on June 14, 1899. I believe that Uncle Wick Rankins and Ella Flood (later Ella Casler) were the attending couple.
For a short time after they were married they lived upstairs over the candy store in the brick building next to the South Ann St. bridge over the Mohawk River. From here they moved to South Washington St. in Herkimer where Dad went to work in the Standard Furniture Co. From here they went to the Bronner farm in the Town of Little Falls, where I was born, then to the Edgar VanSlyke house in Jacksonburg on Route 5s. This house stood a little west of Judy's Tavern and was moved or torn down when the Thruway was built.
From here they moved to the Asa Casler farm on Sandy Lane where Ken and Gene were born. Five years here and then to the Gardinier farm in Paradise where Isabelle and Bob were born. We lived there for five years, and I might add that all the water for the house was dipped and carried from a well across the road. The next move was to the Bellinger (Deyo) farm on the Paines Hollow road for a period of three years. Jim was born while we were living here. From here it was back to the Casler farm on Sandy Lane. At one time this area was known as “Clover Valley”.
It seems that wherever we lived our home was the gathering place for the families, both Mother's and Dad's brothers and sisters. As long as she lived, Mom's younger sisters came to her to tell their troubles. She usually told them what she thought, whether they liked it or not. But they always came back for more. She and all the rest of the Ingraham family were always talking about how nervous they were or how certain things made them nervous. She could get upset and fly off the handle over some minor happening, but when things really got rough whe was the one they all leaned on.

12/20/2025

Here is a short excerpt from words written by my Great Uncle Bob Rankins. Shortly before his passing in 1997 with the help of his daughter Jean he relayed “Memories from my Early Days”. I find the following appropriate for this season of Christmas.

“Wintertime often brings to my mind images of the Christmas season. Oh, I realize that the holiday season takes up only a small number of days out of the winter. Maybe one could try to explain the”Christmas images” this way. Pictures of Christmas trees with snow on them, Santa's sleigh being pulled through the snow, Santa about to start down the chimney- snow on the roof, pictures of Christmas shoppers in woolly winter clothing, Santa at the North Pole- bound to be winter up there. Well, anyway, I still think of Christmas as the major aspect of winter---logical or not.
Whenever I think of Christmas in the country, my first mental image is likely to be of a thing that my oldest brother, Russ, with characteristic ingenuity, made for us all. It was a fireplace made from thin boards, with mantel and fake chimney to the ceiling. Inside it, he put a log and cardboard “andirons” and a row of big candles flickering behind the log. The whole thing was painted brick-red and marked off with white paint as though it were made of bricks. A well-made thing indeed. There was a row of six nails driven into the mantel on which to hang Christmas stockings. We used this fireplace for I don't know how many years and it did so much to add to the spirit of the holidays. We always had a Christmas tree. While on the farm, someone would always find one, usually a white pine, cut it down and bring it to the house. To hold it upright, the base of it would be placed in a bucket filled with chestnut coal, the bucket covered in crepe paper. If I remember correctly, we never set up the tree and decorated it until the day before Christmas. The very first Christmas that I remember, the tree was a smaller one, placed in the center of the kitchen table. The table was set for a meal, and we would get our presents at our places at the table.
The tree decorations were those that had been handed down for many years. They were made of thin, blown glass, of paper-mache, of cardboard, but none of plastic. The tinsel strands contained sparkling, thin, strips of shiny metal. No colored plastic. And, of course no strings of electric lights. (There was no electricity in the old farmhouse.) Candle holders were pinched on to the branches or counter-weighted holders were hung on hooks from the twigs.
While all this tree-trimming was going on, very likely Mom was out in the kitchen cooking up a large quantity of vanilla-flavored custard, which would be frozen some time after lunch. The old fashioned ice cream freezer would be brought in, along with a supply of rock salt and crushed ice. Mom would pour the cooked custard mix into the freezer container, the ladle and top assembled and the whole inserted inside the wooden tub. Then, alternating ice and salt the freezing mixture would be packed around the metal freezer and the cranking mechanism added. Now the process would begin. We would share the turning of the crank, for what could seem like a very long cranking time, until, at last it would become too hard for us littler kids to turn it. Finally, my mother would decide that the ice cream was indeed frozen and a big moment was at hand. Enough ice was removed to allow the metal freeze lid to be removed, the ladle slowly pulled out and carefully – but not too carefully scraped back into the freezer and the ladle passed around for licking. O joy! O joy! To wind up the activity, the whole freezer would be repacked with more-ice-salt mixture, put out in the cool shed and covered with rugs or blankets- until treat time in the evening.
My brother Ken was a great one for making candy and popcorn balls for Christmas. He would coat the popcorn with a molasses toffee mixture, I believe. Some of the candy would be mints made with peppermint or wintergreen and a butternut meat pressed into the top. He might also make a batch of stretched or pulled candy. We also would find, on Christmas morning, a good supply o Christmas hard candy.
On Christmas eve, we were entertaining Aunt Carrie and her kids. The father, Uncle Ellis, would be working late at the Little Falls post office. When my brothers, my sister, and I trooped to bed. We made sure to agree that whomever awakened first the next morning would awaken the others so that we could all come down stairs together to see what Santa had brought us. So what happened? When it seemed as though we had been asleep a long time, someone awakened and called the rest. So we all started down the long front stairs together. And suddenly the hall door was thrown open and Dad's voice sounded, “Where do you think you are going? It's only midnight and Uncle Ellis hasn't come out from work yet. Back to bed with you!” Soo-oo-ooo, BACK TO BED WE WENT!
I must recall for you one special morning made brighter by the cleverness of my oldest brother. Russ got materials together, including two batteries, a bulb and wire. He fashioned a shade and socket and suspended it from the ceiling in the sitting room not far from the Christmas tree, and over a table set as for a meal. The wires were threaded up through a ceiling register, and attached to a switch and the batteries. Well, we started down stairs together that Christmas morning, Russ having turned on the switch, we walked into the sitting room and scarcely believed our eyes. This light, of unbelievable brightness, it seemed spread all over the table. Merry Christmas doubled!
That may have been the morning when Santa left me something close to my heart's desire- a pair of felt boots. As a small child, I had felt for some time that my life could hardly continue without them. So I wished and wished – and my life became complete that Christmas morning! One more comment Why couldn't I see any sleigh tracks in the snow that morning? I did not press the question. Somehow I felt That I did not wish to know the answer.

Robert Rankins (Uncle Bob)
by Nephew Willis (Bill) Rankins

Uncle Bob was a High School Science Teacher in Sidney, NY. He retired from teaching in June 1972, He was born August 14, 1910 in the town of Danube, Herkimer County, NY and died on October 2, 1997 in New Berlin, NY where he resided in a nursing home. Uncle Bob was a great one for a visit, he could tell stories any time. He graduated from Mohawk High School and State College at Albany. While in college he worked as a counselor at YMCA Camp on Fourth Lake in the Adirondacks in the summer.

The Rankins Family of the Mohawk Valley

05/31/2026

02/11/2026

02/10/2026

02/07/2026

02/06/2026

02/04/2026

12/20/2025

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