Olson Ancestors

Sophia Olson

Contents

The Closest → → → → → → → → → → → 1

The Next of My Father → → → → → 11

The Next of My Mother → → → → → 19

The Whole of It → → → → → → → → → 29

Dedication → → → → → → → → → → → 31

I was born on September 3rd, 2002, in Edmond Oklahoma. My family (my mom, dad, and twin sister) has lived in Oklahoma, then New Mexico, and now Bozeman, Montana.

Sophia

OLSON

I love art more than almost anything else that exists on Earth because its one of the few ways to facilitate true connective communication between people. Souls may not exist, but art makes it feel like they might.

I have spent almost every moment of my life in the pursuit of art and getting good at creating it. From the things I enjoy watching, to my job, to my hobbies, and then my education, my priority has always been to surround myself with beauty and deeper meaning.

Even if I find Bozeman stifling, my family makes my life much more fulfilling. My mom is an artist: she’s a musician, a composer, a writer, and an intellectual. My dad is an artist, as much as he doubts it, and he has a beautiful heart. My sister is an artist, a director, a musician, and a playwright.

Olson Olivia

Olivia Olson was born in Edmond, Oklahoma, on September 3rd 2002, after spending 9 months in uncomfortable proximity to me in my mother’s womb. Little did she know, that proximity would persist in the form of a shared room and bunkbed for the next 18 years. I always call my sister Olivia, even though she calls me Sissy because I am awful with nicknames. She is my closest friend, and I hope that even if we end up far apart, we always be close.

She is a fiercely loyal person who WILL (and has) stood up for me many times. While I am a timid person, she is bold. In elementary school I was bullied for a while because I was so quiet, but she had the confidence to defend and protect me.

She is intensely hard-working, to a degree that seems super-human to me. She’s always doing something, making something, acting, working, or studying. She’s written so much music, so many plays, so many short stories. I’ve always been jealous of her seemingly boundless energy to just keep making what she loves.

Of two of us, she’s always been the most organized. I’m a very messy person, and I fear that I put her through a lot of stress growing up, forcing her to be the put-together person for the both of us. But even when I’ve put her through hard times, she’s always been immensly patient and understanding with me.

s asic e Jackson

Jessica Jackson was born on October 22, 1978, in Plentywood Montana. Plentywood lies in the far Northeast corner of Montana, on flat endless fields dotted by endless wheat fields. I know living rurally isn’t my mom’s ideal environment, because at heart she is an intellectual. Even as a little kid, more than anything else I viewed her as smart. I can perfectly imagine her as a renaissance-man in the midst of the geniuses of 1500’s Italy, or as a pioneering philosopher in the early 20th Century.

She’s well read, well thought-out, and very well dressed. We have very similar viewpoints on life, with some obvious generational differences. But, when we talk our mids sync together like puzzle-pieces. I don’t think I know anyone else quite as well or as deeply. Whenever we have our talks, it’s not just comforting or familiar, it’s a philosophical discussion, or a vindication, or a cathartic reflection.

I’m eternally grateful to have a mother who is so open-minded, progressive, and skeptically driven. Because of her, I’ve never felt restrained, spiritually guilty or afraid to express all of who I am.

Throughout her life, she has changed so much so many times, going through the most painful process of looking inward, overcoming learned shame or ideology, and growing into a truer, more honest, more real version of herself, and unintentionally helping me to do the same.

My dad is the most patient and nonjudgemental person I have ever encountered in life. He’s worked through so many struggles but has remained compassionate and has grown stronger despite it all. Even in his toughest moments, no matter how low he was, he would step up and remain a pillar for me and my sister, creating happy memories when happiness was hard to find. When we needed him to be there, he always was.

Growing up, he was always using his creative skill and ingenious mind to make our lives brighter. I have countless fond memories of him helping my sister and I make our yearly homemade Halloween costumes, like the time I wanted to be a giant crayon, or the TARDIS (Doctor Who), or a musketeer. His sheer creativity, problem solving, and his drawings are what made me want to draw and make art in the first place.

My dad is an introvert, so he often comes off as a bit intimidating to strangers, but I love having a quiet dad. He’s a great listener and an unending source of comfort. He has a great sense of humor and never fails to raise my spirits when I’m down. We have had many similar mental health struggles, so he has helped me a lot by giving me advice and sharing his own experiences with me. I’ve always felt supported and accepted completely by him.

Olson atthew

Matthew Olson was born on October 31, 1977, in Moore, Oklahoma.

Carol Joyes was born October 2, 1950, in Plentywood, Montana. Her life was shaped by the pure joys and trials of life on a farm in a very sparsley populated corner of the country. Even though she grew up in a small and homogenous community, her parents encouraged education. She and her siblings continued their schooling through college, applying their values of working hard from the farm to their schooling. My Grandma Carol studied Anthropology at the University of Montana, and that human-centered interest in cultural development continues today. I always see her reading a different history book.

My Grandma Carol would do very well as a historian or a researcher. She has a studious and meticulous way about thinking of her interests. I think the intellectual values of our current household were passed down from her to my mother, and then to my sister and I.

My Grandma is intensely practical. I feel that her practicality is the trait that she and I have the least in common, because in comparison to her I am unbearably silly and frivolous. She always does what needs to be done, and any feelings or reservations about it are irrelevant. I think that if I was able to be so dedicated to reality and invested in my own responsibilities I’d find my own life much easier to live.

This “doing what needs to be done always” mentality is why she is so skilled in all the things she does. Her cooking is always excellent despite any new recipe or experimentation. The flowers around our house are beautifully arranged and well shaped and cultivated. Our plants inside are similarly pristine and luscious.

She’s a pillar in my life, always holding me up and keeping everything stable and strong.

arol oyes

rgieo Jackson

Georgia Jackson was born on November 1, 1980, in Bozeman, Montana. Her name might be Georgia, but everyone I know, myself included, calls her Gia.

Gia is my mother’s younger sister, and as a result she’s spent a lot of time taking care of my sister and I as a babysitter while my mom was working. But, more often than anything she’s been there just to enrich our lives and bring us days of activity and excitement. Gia is responsible for all of the few times I’ve been blessed to experience the wonders of the outdoors. With her I’ve been camping, hiking, picnicking, and (unsuccessfully) horseback riding. While I’m too much of a baby to do those things on my own, I’m immensley grateful to have been shown some of the beauty that surrounds us in the Gallatin Valley.

She brought even more fun into our lives with her dogs Cowboy and Skippy, her two corgis with quirky personalities. Those two often felt like cousins to me and my sister, and we knew them just as well.

Gia and my sister and I spent many afternoons baking cookies together, assembling crafts, and forming new memories in and around her warm and inviting home, dotted with vintage and farm themed decorations, while drinking tea from mugs gifted to her by old friends.

Asa Jackson was born October 24, 1983, in Plentywood, Montana. He died on November 1, 2021, in Bozeman, Montana.

Asa was probably the funniest man that many of us knew. Throughout my time growing up I saw him as my cool uncle with tattoos and a prison history, like an edgy and charismatic rolemodel. He would make a room light up with laughter and joy whenever he entered, and once he settled,

I was inundated with jokes and references that I didn’t quite understand but was fascinated by. When I think about it, he never seemed all that used to being around kids, and he never quite knew where the appropriate line for a kid’s interaction was, but that made him all the more interesting to me.

When he wasn’t joking he was showing us the pictures and videos of his latest hobbies. He would show off metal music and guitar videos, share about his job as an electrician, his fishing, photograghy, and more and more. He was the kind of person to be good at whatever he was interested in, like he poured his entire soul into every song, photo, and conversation.

When I grew up and started to understand people, I learned more of his life’s hardships from the mouths of my mom and my grandma. First, why he’d been to jail, and that he had serious problems with drinking and smoking. I should have known, because whenever I smell a cigarette, I’m reminded of how he used to smell when I was younger. I was told how he quit these things. I heard how he was hurt as a kid and how he scared my mom. This man that I admired and wanted to match the energy of went through so much and put my family through so much without me even realizing.

When he died by suicide, I realized that when he left, I had only just started to get to know who he was. All the deeper things I know about him are from other people’s impressions of him. My childlike, simple, and idealistic relationship with this person seemed so woefully insufficient to explain the connection that I felt to him, or the effect his death had on me. I never got to have that real conversation, where we could understand each other as adults. It hurts to know that a person would have understood you so much, and could have known you so well and so truly, but will never get the chance.

It’s strange loving and hating someone so much at the same time. He deserved to be here, so I could tell him what I needed to tell him, so he could see what I could make, and so he could tell me what he knows. He deserved to stay so he could enjoy my mom loving him after he finally fixed what had broken when they were kids, and so he could finally live with the love of his life, Dezerae Hoppe, and see through all of the things he’d worked so hard to do. I hate him for taking all that away from himself and everyone else. But I understand why he did what he did. Not to say it was right, but I can empathize with the intense pain he carried with him for years upon years.

In 2021, the same year he died, the same year I graduated high school, and the same year I started college, he was the one to take our senior photos. He’d taken up photography relatively recently, but he seemed to know everything there was to know about it. I wonder how he felt editing them, choosing the best ones to send back to us. I wish that he’d taken a picture of all of us together.

I just wish we could’ve had some more memories together and laughed together some more. Maybe I could’ve been introduced to Gojira, now my favorite band, from him instead of at his funeral.

Blake Olson

Damian Olson

Camille Olson

Hendrix Olson

Frankie Olson

Melinda Olson

Jakob

Michael

Shirley

Carolina Elmore

Norah Elmore

Jonathan Cameron Olson

Mitzi

Shelton

Brandi Greenfeather

Jessica Harris

Christopher

James Olson

Tracy Smith

Ilene Harris

Becky

Tiffany Williams

Alissa Westbrooke

Krysta Brown

Matthew Edward Olson

Daniel Charles Olson

Heidi Bird

Audrianna Paulk

Jeremy Elmore

Rachel Elizabeth Olson

Alfred Eugene Morris

Joe(Jose) Morris

Olivia Hinojosa

Homer Hinojosa

Martin Hinojosa

Ricardo Hinojosa

Rick Olson

Harvey Daugherty

Sonny-Harvey Daugherty

Junior

Beverly Daugherty

Patty Daugherty

Lisa Daugherty

Tammy Daugherty

Tracy Daugherty

Chad Daugherty

Antonio Hinojosa

PatsyGeraldine Bolin

Petra Acuna

Howard H. Daugherty

Lola Rackley

Newlin

Dial Bolin

Dollie Robinette

Beverly Daugherty

Born - December 13th, 1953, Anadarko, OK

(Not Pictured)

Sonny -Harvey Daugherty Jr.

Born - October 14th, 1951, Anadarko, OK

Patty Daugherty

Born - June 19th, 1955, Anadarko, OK

Lisa Daugherty

Born - July 10th, 1960, Anadarko, OK

Tracy Daugherty

Born - October 20th, 1961, Anadarko, OK

Chad Daugherty

Born - November 9th, 1966, Anadarko, OK

Tammy Daugherty

Born - July 17th, 1968, Anadarko, OK

My Grandma Beverly is similar to my father in that she is unendingly patient and kind. She is unconditionally dedicated to her family and her kids and grandkids, luckily including me.

Rick (Raymond) Olson

Born - February 1st, 1953, Oklahoma City, OK

Patsy-Geraldine Bolin

Born - May 2nd, 1933, Oklahoma Ciry, OK

Died - September 19th, 2005, Moore, OK

Harvey Daugherty

Born - May 4th, 1933, Caddo County, OK

Died - December 8th, 2006, Caddo County, OK

Chris James Olson Born - January 2nd, 1974, Stillwater, OK

Rachel Elizabeth Olson Born - March 4th, 1986, Oklahoma City, OK

Daniel Charles Olson Born - August 30th, 1983, Midwest City, OK

John Cameron Olson Born - May 13th, 1976, Stillwater, OK

Joe Morris

Born - August 7th, 1951, Los Angeles, CA

Unknown

I have never met my biological grandfather Joe, and likely never will. He left my dad’s family early, and due to his mental illness, my family has had no idea of his whereabouts for many many years.

Olivia Hinojosa

Born - Febuary 9th, 1932, Laredo, TX

Died - December 20th, 2011, Abilene, TX

The of Nextmy

Mother

I don’t know my grandfather Andy well. I have fond but foggy memories of his humor from when I was a very young kid, but he left my Grandma when I was five, becoming estranged because of my mother’s grief over the situation. Although he has repaired his relationship with my mom somewhat, he remains too distant, and generally bigoted, for me to want to reach out to him myself.

Born - August 30th, Lagrange, GA

Died - Febuary 16th, Charleston, SC

Earl-Gladstone Jackson

Born - December 1st, Wedowee, AL Died - July 15th, Hogansville, GA

Anthony Earl Jackson Born - December 16th, 1954, Hogansville, GA

Edna-Sue Hazel

Richard Hazel

Born - Unknown, Clay, AL

Died - March 3rd, 1928, Hillside Cotton Mill, LaGrange, GA

Nancy Smith

Born - July 3rd, 1880, Clay, AL

Died - January 25th, 1964, LaGrange, GA

Harvey Lee Jackson

Born - Unknown, Zebulon GA

Died - Unknown, GA

Nettie Yarborough

Born - April 18th, 1905, GA

Died - 1992, GA (Not Pictured)

My Great-Grandfather, Arnold, lived so long that I was able to know him until I was 10. Even though I only knew him in his latest years, I still got to see his kind heart and quiet dedication to those he loved. I am grateful that our lives overlapped.

Arnold Joyes

Born - December 27th, 1915, Comertown, MT

Died - October 13th, 2012, Plentywood, MT

Iris Vogt

Born - July 28th, 1919, Comertown, MT

Died - May 28th, 1984, Plentywood, MT

Aldon

Dennis

Colleen Joyes Born - October 2nd, 1950, Plentywood, MT

Joyes Born - March 27th, 1949, Plentywood, MT

Joyes Born - September 27th, 1943, Plentywood, MT

Edward Joyes - Top, Third from Left

Born - August 9th, 1881, Croydon, England

Died - March 4th, 1954, Westby, MT

Evelyn Bruvold - Top, Second from Left

Born - 1885, Westby, MT

Died - 1942, Westby, MT

Beulah Joyes - Far Left

Born - 1912 or 1913

Died - 1963, Plentywood, MT

Arnold Joyes - Top, Second from Right

Harold Joyes - Bottom Right

Born - May 1st, 1918

Died - 1982, Comertown, MT

Royal Joyes - Bottom Left

Born - June 11th, 1922, Comertown, MT

Died - 1996, Plentywood, MT

Charlene Cole Born - 1892, Milo, IA Died - 1952, Plentywood, MT

Andrew Vogt

Born - March 25th, 1892, Cavalier, ND Died - 1981, Milverton, WA

The Whole of It

David Hazel Ann Hogan Ira Barnes Jackson ?F

Antonio Hinojosa Petra Acuna Howard H. Daugherty Lola Rackley Newlin Dial Bolin Dollie Robinette

Alfred Eugene Morris Olivia Hinojosa Harvey Daugherty

Joe (Jose) (Garza Hinojosa) Morris Rick Olson Beverly Daugherty

Matthew Edward Olson

Patsy-Geraldine Bolin

Harvey Lee Jackson Nettie Yarborough

EarlGladstone Jackson

George Joyes ?F

Henry Joyes Elizabeth Collison

Edna-Sue Hazel Richard Daniel Hazel Nancy Smith

Peter Stensby Bruvold Samuel Collison ?F

Anthony Earl Jackson Edward Joyes

Jessica Joyes Jackson

Olivia Iris-Claire Olson Sophia Caitlyn-Blaire Olson

Arnold Edward Joyes

Harold Joyes

John Phillip Vogt

Elaine Hanson

Andrew Weir

Margaret Dinemore

David Gillies Mary Cochrane

Margaret Anna Haag

Valentine Vogt

Evelyn Bruvold

Olaf Bruvold Peter Bruvold Carl Bruvold Richard Bruvold Nettie Bruvold Thelma Bruvold Elvin Bruvold

Dennis Joyes Aldon Joyes

Pam Paula Petersen Susan Kathryn McClurg

Carol Bonita Joyes

Rodney Windell

Colleen Anita Joyes

Andrew Vogt

William Weir Mary Ann Gillies

Lettisha Weir

Edward Cole

John Wheeler

James Brazier ?F

William Brazier Sarah

Shadrach Dial Nancy Homey Robert Dial Rachel

Susanna Reed

John Hunter Mary Laban Brazier

James Brazier Elijah Brazier Cretia Brazier Polly Brazier John Brazier

Deborah Dial

Reuben Hunter Mary Brazier

Henry David Stoops

Henry Parker

Irma Faye Vogt Elmer Vogt

Iris

Joseph Gillies Marion Gillies Charles Gillies ?F ?M ?M

William Jenkins

Amanda Ellen Hunter

Nancy Stoops

Charlene Christene Cole

Vivian Joyes

Shirley Mildred Vogt

Carol Celeste Vogt

Verne Lyle Vogt

Robert Dean Vogt

Victor Eugene Vogt Curtis Floyd Vogt Marlys Clementson Jack Simons Don Dunsworth Iris

Christian Maloney Anson Joyes Annika Joyes Karisa Renee Windell Brian Keeley Windell

Robert Eugene Windell

Dedication

This book was made using the massive collection of photographs my family keeps, dating all the way back to the 1800’s. I also made use of the geneological work of my great-uncle Dennis Joyes and the collected information of my mother Jessica Jackson from a family tree she made while in college. Thanks to both of my Grandmothers for the knowledge they passed on to me. Special thanks to my sister Olivia and her 7th Grade Family Tree project, which I frequently used as a reference.