Early Years
David Dalhoff Neal was born to father Stephen Bryant Neal and mother Mary (Dalhoff) Neal, on Middlesex Street, in Lowell, Massachusetts. His grandparents were Stephen Neal, and David Dalhoff and Sally (Bean) Dalhoff of Canterbury, New Hampshire, Dolhoffs that emigrated from Russia in 1763, for whom he was named. His mother's family, the Beans, migrated from Holland in the early 1830s. His aunt Elizabeth Dolhoff was very artistic, and his uncle Jesse Dolhoff was a great singer.
He attended Lowell grammar schools, and high school at Lawrence, Massachusetts. Deciding to devote himself to the study of art, he then attended art classes at the recently opened Andover Academy in Andover, New Hampshire. When Neal was 14, his father died and his fortunes were "impaired", so he set sail for New Orleans. Here at the age of 15, he worked the docks as a wharf clerk with a wood shipping firm dealing in Brazilian and Honduran mahogany. After a year, he earned enough money to make his way to San Francisco, via the Isthmus of Panama.
Read more about this topic: David Dalhoff Neal
Famous quotes containing the words early years, early and/or years:
“Even today . . . experts, usually male, tell women how to be mothers and warn them that they should not have children if they have any intention of leaving their side in their early years. . . . Children don’t need parents’ full-time attendance or attention at any stage of their development. Many people will help take care of their needs, depending on who their parents are and how they chose to fulfill their roles.”
—Stella Chess (20th century)
“...to many a mother’s heart has come the disappointment of a loss of power, a limitation of influence when early manhood takes the boy from the home, or when even before that time, in school, or where he touches the great world and begins to be bewildered with its controversies, trade and economics and politics make their imprint even while his lips are dewy with his mother’s kiss.”
—J. Ellen Foster (1840–1910)
“In talking with scholars, I observe that they lost on ruder companions those years of boyhood which alone could give imaginative literature a religious and infinite quality in their esteem.”
—Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803–1882)