Sylvester J. Wright

Sylvester J. Wright

• Sylvester J. Wright was born circa July 1830 in New York.
• He married Juliette D. Packard, daughter of Caroline (?).
• Sylvester J. Wright and Juliette D. Packard appeared in the US federal census of 1 June 1880 in Madrid, St. Lawrence County, New York, enumerated next to the household of Juliette's brother Dwithg Packard (age 50). Other members of the household included Mary May Wright, Harlan Packard Wright and Caroline (?). Also in the household was uncle Joseph Dimick (85).
• He was a traveling agent, according to the 1880 census.
• The following appeared on 24 November 1910 in The Ogdensburg Advance & St. Lawrence Weekly Democrat: (Madrid, Nov. 21) Mrs. Thos. Young and son of Black Hills, Dakota, are visiting her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Sylvester Wright, and Mr. and Mrs. Henry Wright at the Springs.
• The following appeared on 7 September 1912 in The Ogdensburg Journal: (Madrid, Sept. 6) Mrs. Juliette D. Wright, who died Friday at the home of her son, Harlan Wright in New York city, were brought here for interment Monday. The remains were taken to the Congregational church where services were held at 2:30 p.m., Rev. T. D. Williams, a former pastor of the church, officiating. Interment was made in the family plot in the Madrid cemetery. The remains were accompanied by Sylvester J. Wright, her husband, and Mr. and Mrs. Harlan Wright.
• Sylvester J. Wright became a widower at the 30 November 1912 death of his wife Juliette D. Packard.
• The following appeared on 12 December 1912 in The Madrid Herald: A Letter From the Black Hills.  S. J. Wright Describes His Journey and Makes Interesting Observations.
  To the Editor of the Madrid Herald and to my Old Friends in Madrid and Vicinity--
       According to promise I will give you a short letter describing my experiences as an aged traveller.
       On Monday morning at 8:30 I took a Pullman at the New York Central station which without change landed me in Chicago the next day at 2:30. There I had a layover of four hours, which furnished me an opportunity to see a little of the city. At seven p.m. I boarded a sleeper for Rapid City, arriving at noon Thursday. There I took train for Deadwood, where, on my arrival, my daughter and her husband met me. I assure you, I was glad to see them and to accompany them by another train to Lead, four miles distant. Here in a good house with plenty of everything necessary, I consider myself established for the Winter.
       Before leaving New York my children were very much concerned for fear the long journey of over 2,000 miles should be too much for me, being so old, to undertake alone. It makes me smile quite audibly to think I should be alone. Say, are there any of your subscribers who think that the old agent of the St. Lawrence Republican would for a moment be alone in a car filled with nice ladies and gentlemen for a long trip? Why, any person with a tongue in his head and a little gray matter under his hat can form many pleasant acquaintances on such a trip and [not] feel alone for a moment. The fact is, I had the time of my life. Everybody was nice, especially the officers of the roads over which I passed. They seemed to vie with each other to see which could add the most to my happiness. I conclude that any person, even tho' he cannot speak U. S., can travel safely over the well conducted railroads of the present day and reach his destination all right.
       I find that the Black Hills are truly and appropriately named. Here are the Hills with great gulches lying between giving great measure of land to the acre; in fact, if you want to go anywhere north, south, east, west, you must go up or down all the time, and the atmosphere is so light, or rarefied, Hills being 5,280 feet--a mile--above tidewater, New York, that I find it hard to draw a satisfying breath. This makes me feel weak and incapacitates me for taking long walks. That is why I have not seen more of the Hills, so I could give you more of a discipline of them.
       Pelple say I will get over that in time. I am infatuated with the people here. I think they are the most social and agreeable people I have ever met as strangers. In fact, they do not allow you to feel that you or they are strangers, but they seem to take you right into their hearts, which makes me feel very much at home. Yet, while the Black Hills are said to be the richest one hundred miles square on earth, I still feel old St. Lawrence County is the best section of earth. And in my dreams I often go over the route I used to take and visit the old subscribers as of ye olden time. But, when I waken, I realize that it is the only way I can see them on this side, for they, or the most of them, have passed over or through the portals to their heavenly home, where I hope to meet them soon.
       I must say I have been disappointed in thye weather of the Black Hills. Thus far we have had about the same weather as I was accustomed to in New York state, perhaps a little warmer. As I write, Winter appears to be setting in with snow and wind and growing cold.
       And now, Brother Babcock, I am wishing you and your subscribers a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to everybody all through the year,
       While I am simply, S. J. Wright.  
• Henry S. Wright and Mary E. (?) appeared in the US federal census of 1 January 1920 in Madrid, New York. Other members of the household included Sylvester J. Wright.
• Sylvester J. Wright died on 7 May 1921 in Madrid, New York.
• He was interred at Madrid Cemetery, Madrid, St. Lawrence County, New York.
• The following appeared on 20 May 1921 in The Potsdam Herald-Recorder: Sylvester J. Wright, who has been failing from old age for the past few months, died at the home of his son, Henry S. Wright, Saturday morning, May 7, aged 91 years.
       . . . He was united in marriage with Juliette D. Packard and they celebrated their golden wedding day a few years before her death which occurred in September, 1912. Of their family of chilren two daughters died in infancy and Henry S. with whom he made his home, Harland P. of New York, and Mary, Mrs. John P. Johns of Los Angeles, California, are left to mourn the loss of their father.
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• Last Edited: 14 Dec 2015