John Thompson Ford, April 16, 1829 Baltimore – March 14, 1894 Baltimore


 John T. Ford (1829-1894) theater manager in the XIXth century
Date circa 1865 , from an original daguerreotpye(2007-02-03 original upload date)
Author The original uploader was Biruitorul at English Wikipedia.

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Ford was born in BaltimoreMaryland, and was the son of Elias and Anna (née Greanor) Ford. His ancestors were early Maryland settlers and some of them took part in the American Revolution. For a few years he attended public school in Baltimore and then became a clerk in his uncle’s tobacco factory in Richmond, Virginia. Not caring for this work, he became a bookseller.

Working as a bookseller in Richmond, Ford then wrote a farce dealing with contemporary life. The farce was entitled Richmond As It Is, and was produced by a minstrel company called the Nightingale Serenaders. This farce was fairly successful, and George Kunkel, the owner and manager of the Serenaders, offered Ford a position with the organization. He accepted, and for several seasons traveled as business manager of this company throughout the United States and Canada.

In early 1894, Ford’s health declined, his death at his Baltimore home of a heart attack during a bout of influenza came suddenly. He left a widow, Edith Branch Andrew Ford, who was the mother of eleven children. Ten of these were still living when he died: Charles, then manager of Ford’s Opera House; George, a treasurer; John Jr, an advertising agent; Harry; Mattie, an actor; James, and the unmarried daughters Lizzie, May, Lucy, and Saile. (Named after his father Elias, Saile is Elias in reverse) Two days after his death, a funeral was held at his house and officiated by two clergymen from the Central Presbyterian Church of Baltimore, and he was buried in Loudon Park Cemetery.[4]

About kathyfoshay

I'm all alone with the real end of the world and always looking for assistance and no one's ever contacted me from the hundreds of letters I'd sent while at the big homeless shelter, 2nd and D Streets, NW, as though anyone that tries to contact me gets disappeared, my life used as a LURE-gimmick that goes to how that Armageddon prophecy in that book of Revelation has been being snuck-through, and this is sort of the bottom of the barrel of ideas for trying to find assistance, thinking I could get all my various writings on this in one place that letter-recipients could then look up if they're interested. That means I'd have to see if I can send my emails to here, how to do that. Wordpress said there is a way but it entails that spam would also get the email address. My time for now it up I guess. Working in this sitting position isn't healthy for me but I've always got to be doing something toward trying to get hold of someone to help me. It's like I'm a microcosm of the Earth or the human race and if someone could help me out of this torture then that'd be a start on trying to get the whole Earth out of this. 5/1/17, still all this, etc., same situation. (7/14/18 now....) Now it's 2019.
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