Week 10 2022: Worship #52Ancestors

This is the story of my husband’s second great-grandfather, The Reverend Richard T. Marlow. Bruce’s family’s bible includes a copy of part of Richard’s obituary and while some of what it says cannot be confirmed, I have used it as a guide to tell his life-story.[1] 

Richard Marlow was born in Nashville to Stephen and Alvah (Reynolds) Marlow in 1830. He married Rebecca Suite on April 1st 1852 in Smith County, Tennessee, when he was twenty-one and she twenty-three. They had eight children over fourteen years.  

According to his obituary, Richard attended “Hoyt’s Greek Academy” in Davidson County, Tennessee. I have not been able to find anything about this academy. The obituary further reports that Richard began preaching as a circuit rider in four Tennessee counties for the Cumberland Presbyterian Church in 1849, but was not licensed until 1849 and not ordained until 1853. Without knowing precisely which counties he was assigned to, we can assume that his four counties consisted of somewhere on the order of 1,800 square miles.[2]

The Cumberland Presbyterian Church was founded in 1810 when a group from the main Presbyterian Church seceded.[3]Residing principally in south-central Kentucky and Tennessee, these members split from what they called “Old School” Presbyterians over a difference of opinion on the ordination of ministers who had not enjoyed the benefits of a “classical education.”[4]  In November of 1853, it was reported that the Nashville Presbytery comprised of twenty-one ordained ministers, six licentiates, and five candidates.[5] It is likely Richard was one of those.

Reverend Marlow’s obituary states that his first permanent assignment was for a church in Canton, Trigg County, Kentucky in 1853 and that he worked there for “some time” until going to Princeton, Kentucky. However, his first and second children, John and Florence, were born in Tennessee (1854 and 1855), so the obit is off by a year or so.[6] Their next three children, all girls: M.T., Ida, and Cora were all born in Kentucky (1856, 1859, and 1861) which squares with the obituary.[7] The first independent record of Richard’s ministry I have located is a blurb on the Cumberland Presbyterian Church’s website that reports Richard celebrated the first Holy Communion at the Liberty Cumberland Presbyterian Church in Princeton, Kentucky, in October of 1858.[8]

At the outbreak of the Civil War, Richard and his family moved to Mount Zion, Illinois, where Richard took charge of the Cumberland Presbyterian Church there.[9] I had wondered about Richard’s views on slavery and if that drove him to relocate to a free state. The 1860 Federal Census – Slave Schedules shows his father enslaved one fifty-year-old woman.[10] However, Richard’s brother, Henry Clay Marlow, served as a volunteer in the 17th Kentucky Infantry in the Civil War on the side of the Union, rising to the rank of Sergeant (although in his obituary he is given the rank of Captain).[11]

A history of the Cumberland Presbyterian Church (written in 1899) provides a muddled picture of their position on slavery. The author of that history (a Cumberland minister) notes that he himself never knew an “extreme” pro-slavery member but states that most in the congregation “admitted” under the existing laws there were cases where “humanity and religion both made it necessary to hold men in bondage” and that if the slaves were “properly treated,” there was no sin involved.[12] In order to hold the church together during the war, the church’s General Assembly affirmed that slave-holding was not a bar to communion.[13] Hmmmm.

After moving to Illinois, Richard and Rebecca had two more children: Mattie Lou and Hari Jean (1864 and 1865). Richard registered for the draft in July of 1863, but it does not appear that he served.[14] Two years later he helped found the Mount Zion Male and Female Seminary in Mount Zion, Illinois.[15] Per his obituary, he was a “professor of mental and moral science.” 

According to his obituary, Richard and family next went to Washington, Indiana.  The Cumberland Presbyterian church there was (and is) the Mt. Olivet Cumberland Presbyterian Church. I haven’t yet located records to confirm his assignment there, but the death certificate for his youngest child, Ella Mae, indicates she was born in Washington, Indiana in 1868.[16]

Richard’s next stop (in about 1872) was back to Illinois, specifically Urbana. However, he is now affiliated with the Universalist Church.[17] I am not sure how this happens – that a preacher goes from one church affiliation to another, but Reverend Marlow winds up doing this at least twice in his career. Which is not to say that he wasn’t deeply involved in the ecclesiastical affairs of the churches to which he belonged. In 1869 and 1871 he traveled to Nashville to attend the General Assembly of the Cumberland Presbyterian Church.[18] Yet only a year later he joined the Universalists and then attended their state convention.[19]

Reverend Marlow joined the Universalists in Urbana who had just erected a new church building in 1872.[20] Perhaps that is what attracted him to them. However, his affiliation with the Universalists didn’t last long. He returned his “Letter of License” to the Universalists in May of 1873 (although in June he is still listed as preaching for the Universalists in Urbana).[21]  In June, Rev. Marlow was in Bloomington Illinois breaking ground for a new Congregationalist Church.[22] The building was to be 32’ x 54’ and 18’-20’ tall, described as “none too large to accommodate Mr. Marlow’s present congregation.”[23] I cannot determine if the new church ever got built, because Richard went back to the Cumberland Presbyterians six-months later, this time to Gibson City, Illinois.[24]

In Gibson City, Reverend Marlow appears to have been quite active in the community with the temperance movement, the Literary Society, and Decoration Day community “exercises.”[25] I found it interesting that Reverend Marlow’s congregation was likely integrated as in 1875 he performed the marriage ceremony for a Black couple.[26]

Yet again, his tenure at this church didn’t last long. By June of 1875, Reverend Marlow had resigned his position in Gibson City, “having accepted a call from the [Cumberland Presbyterian] church at Carthage, Missouri.”[27] In Carthage, he bought a half interest into a newspaper called the Carthage Advance.[28] Not sure what he wrote about, but the Streator Free Press in Illinois described it as a “wicked newspaper.”[29]

After what appears to be a four-year stint in Carthage, Reverend Marlow came back again to the Congregationalists. This time, his break with the Cumberland Presbyterians appears permanent. His newspaper ceased publication in 1877 and the Gibson City paper reported that in July of 1879, he has been “excluded” from the Cumberland Presbyterian church, noting that this was a “step [that] ought to have been taken years ago.”[30]  I haven’t found anything to cause the editor of this paper to say such a thing.  Just four years earlier, this same paper expressed it’s regret when Reverend Marlow left Gibson City.[31] I would guess whatever he was writing in the Advance was not to their liking.

The 1880 U.S. census shows Richard, Rebecca, and family living in Brookline, Missouri. With the Congregationalist church there, he participated in the dedication of a new Congregational Church in Brookline and attended the Congregational Convention in Kansas City.[32] However, by 1882, he has relocated to yet another town, this time Iberia, Missouri.[33] His life over the next five years or so is not well documented. His obituary mentions he established another academy in Rogers, Illinois at the cost of $15,000 at about this time-frame, but I haven’t been able to verify this. By 1887 I know he  and the family had settled in Iberia.[34]

Iberia is located in Miller County, Missouri, in the Ozarks Region. After returning there in 1887, the Miller County Autogram-Sentinel regularly reported on Reverend Marlow’s doings including his purchase of property, his “unusually interesting” and “excellent” sermons, when his children visited, and his run for Representative to the Miller County Republican party (he lost).[35]

Throughout his career, Rev. Marlow appears to have been keenly interested in the establishment of churches and schools, regardless of the denomination. By far, it appears his biggest accomplishment in this area was his involvement with the establishment of the Iberia Academy. The story goes like this:

[I]n 1889 in Galesburg, a small college town in Illinois, the home of Knox College. George Byron Smith and Mabel White were members of the senior class at Knox in 1889. …. After their graduation, they married and ventured out into the world hoping to find a place to call home and where they could give of their talents as educators.

While on a train heading westward through the countryside of Illinois, Byron and Mabel engaged in a conversation with a traveling salesman (drummer) who was traveling with them in the coach. Byron spoke of his desire to find a place where he and Mabel were needed as teachers. The drummer informed him of a place in the foothills of the northern Ozark Mountains which "had some little cabins, some old women smokin' corn-cob pipes and some grown men playin' marbles to help 'em forgit they're alive. Son, when you reach that place, you will know you have reached Iberia, Mizoury."[36]

Apparently hearing of their interests, Rev. Marlow wrote to the Smiths and asked them to establish an Academy at Iberia.[37]Organized as a junior college, it opened its doors in September of 1891, offering its students boarding with “the best of families at the lowest possible rates.”[38]

Before the start of the second term in January 1892, a two-column article (really more an advertisement) about the Academy by Reverend Marlow appeared in the Miller County paper.[39] He boasted that the Academy was “located in one of the healthiest spots on the globe. Situated on high ground with a large campus, its large well ventillated (sic) rooms; it’s pure cold water; its invigorating air make it as desirable as one could ask.”[40] I take it these were euphemisms describing unheated buildings with no hot water.

Appealing to parents, Reverend Marlow extolled them: “We must educate our children and or make them slaves – leave them to be ‘hewers of wood, and drawers of water’ for those who reap the benefit of their toil.” Rather, “Send your boys and girls immediately to Iberia Academy, where every care will be bestowed upon them and every advantage will [be] afforded them.[41] Board with private families ran $2.00-$2.50 per week and tuition was $4.00 for a “Primary Class,” $6.00 for “Academic,” with music, type-writing and stenography extra.[42]

The first graduating class of the Iberia Academy was in 1893 and consisted of only one student, Stella Moore, although fifteen elementary students attended that year.[43] With the help of other ministers and friends, the school not only survived but grew. Two women’s dormitories were built in 1905 and 1906 the men built their own in 1939.[44] By 1912, the campus had grown from one acre to twenty.[45] In 1913, the school had a football team which trounced Rolla High School 78-0 their first game.[46] In addition to academics, in 1940 students at the school produced more than 1,000 woven rugs, handbags, scarfs and other items sold to support the school. [47]

In its fifty-seven-year history, about 600 students graduated from the Iberia Academy. The last commencement with thirteen graduates occurred in 1951 after which it was merged into Drury College (also founded by the Congregationalists and located in nearby Springfield, Missouri).[48] Four of the remaining buildings are listed on the National Register of Historic Places.[49]One of the school’s buildings was investigated by the Ozarks Paranormal Society who claim to have seen a female ghost.[50]

In September 1893, at the age of sixty-two, Reverend Marlow left Iberia, accepted the assignment from the Congregational Home Missionary Society to establish a church in the “Cherokee Strip” of the Oklahoma Territory.[51] I can’t even imagine what his sixty-five-year-old wife Rebecca thought about this. 

The Cherokee Strip or “Outlet” opening was Oklahoma’s fourth and largest land run. At noon on September 16, 1893, more than 100,000 people raced to stake their claims.[52] The land involved was one of three areas the Cherokee Nation had “acquired” in 1835 by the treaty of New Echota.[53]

By the end of 1893, Reverend Marlow was conducting services every Sunday at 11 AM and 3 PM in the “soldiers’ barracks” and the “new school” in Perry, Oklahoma with an eye toward building a new church.[54]

Two months after setting up shop in Perry, Reverend Marlow filed his first report to the home church, giving a fascinating picture of this new town[55]:

This wonderful city is two months old to-day. It covers, including its additions, 800 acres of land. The government survey of 320 acres is filled with business houses, in which is represented every form of business, except mining and manufacturing, known to American people, from wholesale establishments with their hundreds of thousands, down to the corner peanut stand pushing its nickels. … My tent (for I live in a rude tent) stands on high ground overlooking the city, and every day brings its surprises as street after street opens to trade. …. The sound of mechanics’ tools has never died upon the air, day or night, since the evening of September 16th.

But all was not peachy in Perry. The first Sunday he was there, he was unable to preach due to a wind-storm. After that, he preached on street corners or in unfinished stores. His superintendent sent a 60x40 tent which he erected on a vacant lot. Unfortunately, the wind blew it down and a thief stole some of the canvas.

At the end of his report, Rev. Marlow pleaded for $1,000 to build the new church. He only had fourteen members but claimed about thirty regularly attended his Sunday school.  He desperately wanted to “house this flock before the winter winds freeze them out of that old wind-worn tent.”

 Ending his report, he states: 

I have been in the employ of the grand old mother of churches, the Home Missionary Society, for thirteen consecutive years, but I have never comprehended the full meaning of the term “missionary,” nor the importance of true home missionary work, until my lot was cast in Perry. May God help me to reach and try to save this wicked city.

His Perry assignment was short-lived as his obituary states he suffered from failing health and had to return to Missouri. I cannot determine if Reverend Marlow ever got his church built before he left, but curiously, the 1894 Sanborn Fire Insurance Map of Perry shows a Congregational Church was built on west side of C St. between Third and Fourth.[56]

In 1900, Reverend Marlow and Rebecca are enumerated in the 1900 census living in Monett, Missouri, near daughter Ella Mae and her family, but returned to Iberia by 1901.[57] It appears he also performed weddings and preached in Wichita, Southwest Missouri and elsewhere.[58] Reverend Marlow was apparently so well-known across the state of Missouri that when his mother passed away in 1901, the notice of her death was published in the St. Louis Globe-Democrat.[59]

Richard and Rebecca moved (yet again) to Golden City, Missouri in 1902.[60] After that time and until his death in 1907, I find no mention of him or Rebecca in the newspapers currently available to me online. Rebecca passed in 1912 and they are buried at the IOOF cemetery in Golden City.[61] Rebecca was survived by seven of her children and at least twenty-two grandchildren. 

What a life and legacy! Clearly focused on education and the workings of his church(es), Richard seems to have been an intensely driven man. Nearly all the newspaper accounts I’ve found praise him for his oratory skills and his obituary claims he was perhaps the only man in the country chosen to deliver addresses upon the death of three “martyred” presidents (presumably Lincoln, Garfield, and McKinley). 

______________________________

[1] “Death of Rev. R. T. Marlow,” from an unidentified newspaper, no date.

[2] Wikipedia.org, “Tennessee,” rev. 13:58, 17 March 2022. Tennessee consists of 42,146 square miles in 95 counties.

[3] “New Church,” National Banner and Daily Advertiser (Nashville, Tenn.), 19 Mar 1832, p. 3, col. 1. L. Thomas Smith, Jr. “Cumberland Presbyterian Church,” Tennessee Encyclopedia (https://tennesseeencyclopedia.net/entries/cumberland-presbyterian-church/ : accessed 10 March 2022).

[4] Ibid.

[5] “C. P. Church,” The Nashville (Tennessee) Union and American, 6 November 1853, p. 2, col. 2. 

[6] Missouri State Board of Health, certificate of death, no. 13462 (19431) John R. Marlow; digital image, “Missouri Death Certificates, 1910-1971,” Missouri Digital Heritage, Missouri Secretary of State (https://www.sos.mo.gov/images/archives/deathcerts/1913/1913_00013678.PDF : accessed 15 March 2022). 1860 U.S. census, Caldwell County, Kentucky, population schedule, Fredonia, p. 160, dwelling 1176, family 1176, R.T. Marlow; digital image, Ancestry (http://ancestry.com : accessed 10 March 2022); citing National Archives microfilm publication M653, roll 356.

[7] Trigg County, Kentucky, birth register, 3 May 1856, M.T. Marlow; digital image, “Kentucky, U.S., Birth Records, 1847-1911, Ancestry (http://www.ancestry.com : accessed 16 march 2022); citing Kentucky, “Kentucky Birth Marriage and Death Records (1852-191), microfilm roll 994056: Todd, Trigg, Trimble, Union. M.T. was a girl. She must have died as an infant since she is not enumerated in the 1860 census. 1860 U.S. census, Caldwell Co., Kentucky, pop. sch., Fredonia, p. 160, dwell.1176, fam. 1176, R.T. Marlow

[8] "Liberty Cumberland Presbyterian Church," Historical Foundation of the Cumberland Presbyterian Church (http://www.cumberland.org/hfcpc/churches/LibertyPrincetonKY.htm : accessed 26 February 2019).

[9] J. B. Logan, D.D., “Mt. Zion,” Sketches of Some of the Oldest Churches, History of the Cumberland Presbyterian Church in Illinois (Alton, Ill.: Perrin & Smith, 1878), p. 94; digital images, Hathi Trust Digital Library (https://hdl.handle.net/2027/uiuo.ark:/13960/t75t3jp08 : accessed 10 March 2022).

[10] 1860 U.S. census, Christian County, Kentucky, slave schedule, [township not stated], p. 94, S. Marlow “owner”; digital image, “1860 U.S. Federal Census – Slave Schedules,” Ancestry (http://www.ancestry.com : accessed 16 March 2022); citing National Archives publication M653, roll not noted.

[11] Compiled service record, Henry Clay Marlow, Sgt., [multiple companies], 17 Kentucky Inf.; Carded Records, Volunteer Organizations, Civil War; Record Group 94, roll 304, National Archives, Washington, D.C.; digital images, Fold3 (http://www.fold3.com : accessed 11 March 2022). “Marlow,” The (Nashville) Tennessean, 7 January 1916, p. 8, col. 7.

[12] B. W. McDonald, History of the Cumberland Presbyterian Church (Nashville: Board of Publication of Cumberland Presbyterian Church, 1899), p. 410; digital images, Internet Archive (https://archive.org/details/historyofcumberl00mcdo  : accessed 10 March 2022). 

[13] Ibid., p. 418.

[14] “U.S., Civil War Draft Registration Records, 1863-1865,” database and images, Ancestry (http://ancestry.com : accessed 16 March 2022), digital image, 7th Congressional District, Richard T. Marlow, Mason, Illinois; citing ARC Identifier 4213514, “Consolidated Enrollment Lists, 1863-1865” (Civil War Union Draft Records); Records of the Provost Marshal General's Bureau (Civil War), Record Group 110; National Archives, Washington D.C.

[15] “Scope and Contents, Mount Zion Seminary, Paper, 1865-1962,” Illinois History and Lincoln Collections, https://www.library.illinois.edu/ihx/archon/?p=collections/controlcard&id=878 : accessed 11 March 2022). “AN ACT to incorporate the Mount Zion Male and Female Seminary,” Private Laws of the State of Illinois, Passed by the Twenty-Fourth General Assembly, Vol. I (Springfield, Ill.: Baker & Phillips, 1865), 25; digital images, Google Books (https://www.google.com/books/edition/Private_Laws_of_the_State_of_Illinois_Pa/oMdGAQAAMAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&dq=%22Mount+Zion+male+and+female+seminary%22&pg=PA25&printsec=frontcover : accessed 12 March 2022). Rev. Marlow is misidentified in the law as Robert T. Marlew.

[16] Missouri State Board of Health, standard certificate of death, no. 30269 (1947) Ella Mae Mills; digital image, “Missouri Death Certificates, 1910-1971,” Missouri Digital Heritage, Missouri Secretary of State (https://www.sos.mo.gov/images/archives/deathcerts/1947/1947_00030272.PDF : accessed 15 March 2022).

[17] “Urbana,” The Champaign County (Illinois) Gazette, 22 May 1872, p. 5, col. 4.

[18] “Cumberland Presbyterian General Assembly,” The Nashville (Tennessee) Union and American, 27 May 1869, p. 1, col. 4.  Ecclesiastical Affairs: Forty-First General Assembly of the Cumberland Presbyterian Church,” The (Nashville) Tennessean, 23 May 1871, p. 4, col. 5.

[19] “Illinois Universalists,” The Chicago Evening Post, 17 October 1872, p. 1, col. 4.

[20] “History of our Church,” UU Church of Urbana-Champaign (https://uucuc.org/who-we-are/history/ : accessed 14 March 2022). 

[21] “Illinois,” The (New York) Christian Leader, 3 May 1873, p. 10, col. 3. “Church Directory: Urbana,” The Champaign County (Illinois) Gazette, 30 July 1873, p. 4, col. 1.

[22] “Ford County,” The (Bloomington, Illinois) Daily Pantagraph, 6 June 1873, p. 2, col. 1-2. 

[23] Ibid.

[24] “Gibson Gleanings,” The Paxton (Illinois) Record, 27 November 1873, p. 3, col. 5.

[25] “Temperance,” The Gibson City (Illinois) Courier, 7 March 1874, p. 4, col. 3. “Literary Society,” The Gibson City (Illinois) Courier, 2 May 1874, p. 4, col. 2. “Memorial Exercises,” The Gibson City (Illinois) Courier, 23 May 1874, p. 4, col. 3.

[26] “Married,” The Gibson City (Illinois) Courier, 15 May 1875, p. 4, col. 4.

[27] “We regret,” Gibson City (Illinois) Courier, 26 June 1875, p. 4, col. 2.

[28] “Around-About Us,” The (Springfield) Missouri Weekly Patriot, 2 December 1875, p. 2, col. 6.

[29] “Wenona Index Clippings,” The Streator (Illinois) Free Press, 27 November 1875, p. 4, col. 4. 

[30] “About Carthage advance,” Chronicling American, Library of Congress (https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn86053959/ : accessed 14 March 2022). “Local Matters,” Gibson City (Illinois) Courier, 4 July 1879, p. 5, col. 1.

[31] “We regret,” Gibson City (Illinois) Courier, 26 June 1875, p. 4, col. 2.

[32] “Religious: Church Dedication,” St. Louis (Missouri) Globe-Democrat, 6 June 1882, p. 2, col. 6. “Congregational Convention,” The Kansas City (Missouri) Times, 1 November 1882, p. 5, col. 3.

[33] “Congregational Convention,” The Kansas City (Missouri) Times, 1 November 1882, p. 5, col. 3.

[34] “Iberia Items,” The Miller County (Missouri) Autogram-Sentinal, 24 November 1887, p. 3, col. 5.

[35] “Iberia Items,” The Miller County (Missouri) Autogram-Sentinal, 21 February 1889, p. 2, col. 3. “Iberia Items,” The Miller County (Missouri) Autogram-Sentinal, 7 February 1889, p. 2, col. 3-4. “Iberia Jottings,” The Miller County (Missouri) Autogram-Sentinal, 23 April 1891, p. 3, col. 4. “Iberia Items,” The Miller County (Missouri) Autogram-Sentinal, 2 May 1889, p. 3, col. 5. “Annoucements: This Week,” The Miller County (Missouri) Autogram-Sentinal, 4 August 1892, p. 3, col. 3.

[36] Peggy Smith Hake, “Iberia Academy – Grand Old School of the Northern Ozarks,” Miller County Museum (http://www.millercountymuseum.org/schools/MCUN019.html : accessed 15 March 2021). Material condensed from the 1989 book by Hake Iberia Academy and the Town, Its History.

[37] Barbara Baird, “Iberia Academy Educated Hundreds of Missourians,” The Accidental Ozarkian, 27 February 2016 (https://www.ozarkian.com/iberia-academy/ : accessed 15 March 2022).

[38] Iberia Academy,” The Miller County (Missouri) Autogram-Sentinal, 17 September 1891, p. 3, col. 3.

[39] Iberia Academy,” The Miller County (Missouri) Autogram-Sentinal, 17 December 1891, p. 3, col. 3-4.

[40] Ibid.

[41] Ibid.

[42] Ibid.

[43] “College at Iberia Is Interesting,” The Sedalia (Missouri) Democrat, 8 September 1940, p. 14, col. 3. 

[44] Historical Note, Iberia Junior College Collection (R0231), The State Historical Society of Missouri (https://files.shsmo.org/manuscripts/rolla/R0231.pdf : accessed 15 March 2022). Time and distance prevented a visit to the Historical Society location in Rolla where these items are located; I have relied on the notes found on the SHSMO website.

[45] Hake, “Iberia Academy – Grand Old School of the Northern Ozarks.” 

[46] Baird, “Iberia Academy Educated Hundreds of Missourians.”

[47] Ibid.

[48] Ibid. “Drury University’s History,” Drury University (https://www.drury.edu/about/drury-history/ accessed 15 March 2022). 

[49] Historical Note, Iberia Junior College Collection (R0231), The State Historical Society of Missouri (https://files.shsmo.org/manuscripts/rolla/R0231.pdf : accessed 15 March 2022).

[50] “Iberia Academy Investigation, The Ozarks Paranormal Society (https://www.theozarksparanormalsociety.com/index.php/investigations/iberia-academy-investigation.html : accessed 15 March 2022).

[51] “Churches for the Strip,” St. Louis (Missouri) Globe-Democrat, 26 September 1893, p. 1, col. 7.

[52] Alvin O. Turner, “Cherokee Outlet Opening,” The Encyclopedia of Oklahoma History and Culture  (https://www.okhistory.org/publications/enc/entry.php?entry=CH021 : accessed 18 March 2022).

[53] Ibid.

[54] “Perry Catches,” Weekly Oklahoma State Capital, 7 October 1893, p. 7, col. 1. “Church Notices,” The Perry (Oklahoma) Daily Times, 2 December 1893, p. 3, col. 3.

[55] Rev. R. T. Marlow, “A Word From Perry, Oklahoma,” The Home Missionary for the Year Ending April 1894, Vol. LXVI (New York: Congregational Home Missionary Society, 1894), 465-66; digital images, Archive.org (https://archive.org : accessed 15 March 2022).

[56] “Sanborn Fire Insurance Map from Perry, Noble County, Oklahoma,” Sanborn Map Company (New York: Sanborn -Perris Map Co, Oct, 1894), Sheet 8; digital images, Library of Congress (https://www.loc.gov/item/sanborn07213_001/ accessed 15 March 2022).

[57] 1900 U.S. census, Monett City, population schedule, enumeration district 11, p. 162 A (stamped), p. 2 (penned), dwelling 25, family 25, Richard T. Marlow; digital image, Ancestry (http://www.ancestry.com : accessed 15 March 2022); citing National Archives microfilm publication T623, roll 838. The Congregational Year-Book, 1901, vol. 23 (Portland, Ore. : National Council), 226; digital images, digital images, Google Books(https://www.google.com/books/edition/The_Year_Book_of_the_Congregational_Chri/uQxKAAAAMAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&bsq=%20Marlow%22 : accessed 13 March 2022).  

[58] “There was a double wedding,” The Wichita (Kansas) Eagle, 25 May 1894, p. 5, col. 5

[59] “Mrs. Alvn Marlow,” St Louis (Missouri) Globe-Democrat, 8 August 1901, p. 4, col. 4. A “Special Dispatch” from Colorado Springs, Colorado.

[60] “Iberia Items,” The Miller County (Missouri) Autogram-Sentinal, 25 September 1902, p. 1, col. 3. “Rev. R. T. Marlow,” The Miller County (Missouri) Autogram-Sentinal, 21 June 1900, p. 1, col. 1.

[61] Find A Grave, database with images, (http://www.fundagrave.com : accessed 18 March 2022), memorials 121252155 and 121252138, Richard T. Marlow (1830-1907) and Rebecca Francis Suit Marlow (1828-1912), IOOF Cemetery, Golden City, Missouri; gravestone photograph by DO1.

Family of Rev. Richard T. Marlow, undated; digital image, “MoGenWeb Project, MoBarry,” Rootsweb.Ancestry.com (http://www.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~mobarry/photos/Mystfly.htm : accessed 9 July 2017).

First Universalist Church of Urbana, built 1871. Jerry Carden, “History of our Church,” UU Church of Urbana-Champaign (https://uucuc.org/who-we-are/history/ : accessed 17 March 2022).

South of the Perry Land Office, 22 September 1893. 8415, “A.J. Brash Collection,” Oklahoma Historical Society (https://www.okhistory.org/publications/enc/entry.php?entry=PE017 : accessed 13 March 2022).

Week 9 2022: Females #52Ancestors

Happy International Women’s Day!

For the Girl Scouts of NE Kansas & NW Missouri, it is “Act of Kindness Day.”[1]

How fitting. 

I found more acceptance and kindness in the Girl Scouts than any other organization I belonged to growing up. From my mom who was the leader of my Brownie troop at St. Joseph’s Catholic School to Anita Wilde the leader for my Cadette and Senior years of Girl Scouts – Troop 529.

Born in Newark, New Jersey in 1911, Mrs. Wilde[2] was the middle of Herman and Anna Grimme’s three children. She married Harry Wilde in 1932 and had three children, two boys and a girl. When I was in scouts she lived down the street from me which I found to be super cool – you know, like seeing your teacher at the grocery store?

Mrs. Wilde was a Girl Scout leader for more than twenty-five years and I would guess she started with her own daughter. I never knew her daughter as she was quite a bit older than me.[3] If I calculate it right, I would say Mrs. Wilde was in her late 50’s-early 60’s when she was my leader. I do remember thinking she was really old (she was twelve years older than my mom after all).

Mrs. Wilde stood five-foot-nothing (on her toes), but man, was she a goer.  She took our troop camping all over New Jersey and New York, to wilderness campsites and formal Girl Scout-owned camps. We went canoeing down the Delaware River at least twice. I camped with her troop every season of the year except winter. I remember that when I got home on the Sunday afternoon from a camping trip, I’d empty my backpack of the things that needed to be washed, but generally left it ready to go for the following Friday afternoon when I would leave to go camping again.

I never remember her raising her voice or getting mad at us even one time. Imagine a roomful of hormonal teenage girls and not losing your cool on a regular basis. She was loved and admired by all who knew her. Mrs. Wilde inspired me so much so that I was the leader of my own Brownie Troop when I was in college. A chance for me to pay back, in a small way, the kindness she showed me. 

Mrs. Wilde passed away at ninety-seven years old and in lieu of flowers asked that contributions be made to the Girls Scouts. Always thinking of us girls.

A lovely and kind woman to be celebrated today. 

_____________________

[1] “Girl Scout Week,” Girl Scouts of NE Kansas & NW Missouri (https://www.gsksmo.org/en/events/girl-scout-week.html : accessed 8 March 2022). 

[2] Not gonna get me to call her anything but that.

[3] “Anita D. Wilde” [obituary], The (Raleigh, North Carolina) News and Observer, 17 February 2008, p. B6, col. 4.

My mom’s Brownie Troop. No way you can pick me out.

My Brownie Troop, circa 1977.

Week 8 2022: Courting #52Ancestors

In talking with my oldest brother and sister, I was surprised to realize that none of us knew how our parents met. The only thing about their courtship I remember was my Nana telling me that mom had a lot of great beaus, but chose “that guy.”

Born in 1922, my dad, Anson J. Glacy, grew up in and around Maplewood, New Jersey, where his great-grandfather settled after emigrating from Ireland. My mom, Mary Regina Maier, was born in Newark NJ a year later and lived there her entire childhood. While both towns are in Essex County, they are too far apart for them to have likely met as children. 

I do remember being told that mom and dad met after the war. A Chief Specialist in the 11th Battalion, 12th Regiment of the U.S. Navy, Dad was stationed at the Great Lakes training center in Chicago for much of the war.[1] He applied for enlistment in the U.S. Naval Reserve in July of 1942, after completing his sophomore year at Seton Hall College (now University), in New Jersey.[2] After the war, Dad went back to his mom’s home in Maplewood and resumed his studies at Seton Hall, graduating in 1948 with a degree in accounting.[3]  

Mom graduated from the College of St. Elizabeth (now Saint Elizabeth University) in Morristown, New Jersey, in 1945 with a B.S. degree in Education: Home Economics. I am not sure where (or if) she taught Home Ec., but I do remember her telling me that she worked a Bamberger’s, a large department store in Newark, and at the Granliden Hotel on Lake Sunapee in New Hampshire.[4] In 1948, her parents moved to Maplewood and Regina lived with them until she and Anson married in 1953.

Of course, there’s the connection I was looking for – Maplewood. Surely, they met there. At a civic function? Maybe a church function since both families were parishioners at St. Joseph’s Catholic Church. The latter seems likely. However, I recently found out that they actually met in high school!

Anson went to St. Benedict’s Preparatory School in Newark, graduating in 1940. Founded in 1868, St. Benedict’s is still a thriving school, featured recently on 60 Minutes showing how this inner-city school succeeds in the 21st century.[5] Ancestry has dad’s 1940 yearbook in its database and much to the surprise of me and my siblings, it shows dad had a part the musical comedy “June Mad” when he was a senior. 

“June Mad” was written by wife-husband, Florence Ryerson and Colin Clements, based on their novel “This Awful Age.” First produced in February of 1939 at the Duffy Theater in Las Palmas, California, several Broadway producers bid on the rights for the show, and Columbia bought it as a vehicle for then “young starlet” Edith Fellows.[6] I can’t determine why it never made it to Broadway, but even as the Broadway production was being considered, the show jumped into the high school circuit.[7]

 Described as a “turbulent tale,” with witty dialogue, “June Mad” tells the story of Penny who falls in head-over-heels in love with college Lothario Roger who is two-timing her with her uncle’s girlfriend.[8] The world premiere production of the show featured Robert Stack as Roger. For St. Benedict’s production, it was my dad! What a crack-up! If you knew my dad, you’d understand why I am so tickled.

The show at St. Benedict’s got a two-page spread in the 1940 yearbook, with several photos and listing of the cast. It wasn’t until I looked more closely at the photos that I saw my mom! She was in the show as an ensemble member. Lol! Mom was a sophomore at the Benedictine Academy, Catholic college preparatory school for women in Elizabeth, NJ. Opened in 1915, the school was operated under the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Newark, as was St. Benedict’s.[9] While the schools were not located near each other, I believe they had a brother-sister type of relationship. 

Did they date in high school? He the handsome senior and leading man; she the tall, gorgeous junior. I don’t know, but it’s fun to imagine.

 
______________________________

[1] “Notice of Separation from U. S. Naval Service,” 6 April 1946; Anson Joseph Glacy personnel file, service no. 731-53-48; National Personnel Records Center, St. Louis, Missouri.

[2] Glacy, “Application for Aviation Training in the U. S. Naval Reserve or Marine Corps Reserve,” 22 July 1942; Anson Joseph Glacy personnel file.

[3] Seton Hall University, The Galleon (n.p.: Seton Hall University Yearbooks, 1940) ; digital images, Seton Hall University (https://scholarship.shu.edu/yearbooks/63 : accessed 1 March 2022).  

[4] “ History,” Granliden on Sunapee (https://www.granliden.com/history : accessed 2 March 2022). The website says that the hotel offered lower rates for young single men so that the young ladies would have dancing partners. Way to go mom!

[5] “Our History,” St. Benedict’s Preparatory School (https://www.sbp.org/about/our-history : accessed 2 March 2022).  Profile of St. Benedict’s Prep, 60 Minutes Overtime, 26 June 2016 (https://www.cbsnews.com/news/60-minutes-whole-new-meaning-for-the-black-hoodie/ : accessed 2 March 2022).

[6] “Columbia and Broadway Bid for Rights to ‘June Mad’ Stage Comedy,” The Los Angeles Evening Citizen News, 4 August 1939, p. 4, col. 1. Edwin Schallert, “June Mad to Star Edith Fellows,” The Los Angeles Times, 11 August 1039, p. 10, col. 1.

[7] The 1941 movie “Her First Beau,” starring Jane Withers and Jackie Cooper was based on “Mad June. “Her First Beau,” IMDb (https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0033709/ : accessed 2 March 2022). 

[8] Katherine T. Von Blon, “’June Mad’ Turbulent Tale,” The Los Angeles Times, 4 March 1939, p.25, col. 1-2.

[9] Wikipedia.org, “Benedictine Academy,” rev. 06:00, 26 May 2021. Sadly, the school closed in 2020. 

St. Benedict’s Preparatory School,The Telelog, (n.p.: The Senior Class of St. Benedict’s, 1940), 95; digital images, “U.S. School Yearbooks, 1900-1999, Ancestry (http://www.ancestry.com: accessed 1 March 2022).

I stand with Ukraine

Week 7 2022: Landed #52Ancestors

Michael J. McDonough immigrated to the United States from Ireland in about 1846. Try as I might, I have yet to definitively determine where in Ireland he came from (maybe Co. Clare) nor have I found the passenger list showing when he landed in the U.S. Ditto for his wife, Bridget (aka Delia) Dunigan. The records I have thus far located begin with the 1850 U.S. census which tells me that Michael and Bridget were both born in Ireland, he in 1824, she in 1825, twere recently married, lived in Clinton, New Jersey, and he was a gardener. 

It is likely that Michael and Bridget came to the U.S. to escape the famine that devastated Ireland in the 1840’s and onward. It is also likely that neither one of them were land-owners in Ireland. Even though the 1850 census says he was a gardener, it wasn’t until the next year that he bought about ten acres in Clinton, Essex County, New Jersey, for $1,225.00.[1] Two years later, Michael acquired additional property in Clinton consisting of almost two acres.[2]

Because I have done smuch research on my husband’s family here in the Mid-West, I am spoiled by land descriptions that are basically either a square or rectangle. When Kansas was opened for non-native settlement in 1854, the surveyors laid out townships consisting of thirty-six sections that were one-mile square using the “Rectangular Survey System.”[3] As an example, my husband’s second great-grandfather owned the west-half of the NW quarter of Section 28 in Township 28: an eighty-acre rectangle.[4] Easy-peasy to figure out. Michaels farms were described by degrees and minutes, chains and links, and pre-existing landmarks. Not so easy-peasy. 

Thirty Connecticut families purchased what became Essex County from the Lenni Leanpe Tribe in 1666.[5] One of the four original counties of present-day New Jersey, Essex County was established by the “East Jersey Legislature” in 1682.[6]  The system of measuring land in the original thirteen colonies and most of the Eastern states is called “Metes and Bounds.” Each element of the description of the property usually consists of three parts: and object or location, a compass direction, and a distance.[7]

For Michael’s first farm the land description starts:

 Beginning at a state in the East Corner of Crowel Wilkensons lot from thence running along the line of said Porters land North fifty degrees and ten minutes East six chains and seventeen links to a stake in a spring along the side of Lighting Brook thence still along this line North sixty one and a quarter degrees east two changes and twelve links hence….[8]

Doubt I will find the stake in the middle of Lighting Brook if I looked today.

In 1860, Michael (now calling himself a “Horticulturist”) reported his real estate was worth $2,000. A 1859 map of Clinton shows an “M Donehue” as a landowner.[9] I believe this is actually Michael because it is where Michael’s farm was laid out in later maps and there is no “M. Donehue” in the deed index for Clinton.

A short word about where Michael (and later his sons) had his farms. I grew up in the town of Maplewood, New Jersey, which in the 1800’s was sometimes called Clinton. However, the history of this little community is a bit complicated and involves multiple names and numerous boundary changes. From the late-eighteenth century, it was called alternatively Jefferson Village, Newark Farms, Camptown, North Farms, Clinton, Middleville,[10] Hilton, South Orange Township, and, lastly Maplewood (where Michael’s farm was located is still called the “Hilton” section).[11] These various town names are important to keep in mind to make sure I am researching in the right community at the right time.

By the 1860’s, Michael and most every other farmer grew “Hilton Strawberries.”[12] Initially developed by the inventor Seth Boyden, many farmers in the area grew these ginormous and apparently delicious strawberries to great acclaim.[13] My grandmother (Michael’s granddaughter) was proud of her family’s green thumbs. And also, of her Irish heritage (she told me she voted for JFK because he was Irish, Catholic, and very handsome). 

Bridget and Michael had six children and all three of their sons worked on the farm. Eventually, two sons went on to other occupations later in life. My great-grandfather (also named Michael) stayed working as a farmer/gardener and farm laborer until his sixties. My grandmother, Mae, was born on the farm in 1883 and lived in and around Maplewood her entire life and in an apartment on my same block when I was a kid.

_________________________

[1] Essex County, New Jersey, Deed Book T7: 574-576, Eleazer Porter and wife to Michael McDonough, 13 October 1851; digital image, FamilySearch (https://www.familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:3Q9M-CSYH-LSGT-B?cat=215486 : accessed 12 February 2022). 

[2] Essex County, New Jersey, Deed Book P8: 330-332, Charles M. Wilkinson and wife to Michael McDonough, 10 August 1853; digital image, FamilySearch (https://www.familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:3Q9M-CSYH-C3MP-J?cat=215486 : accessed 12 February 2022).

[3] Kansas Historical Society, “Kansas Civil Townships and Independent Cities” (https://www.kshs.org/p/kansas-civil-townships-and-independent-cities/11308 : accessed 12 February 2017). The “Rectangular Survey System” of land measurement was authorized by the Congressional Land Act of 1785 and the Federal Land Act of 1796. “Research Tip – Measuring Land,” St. Louis Genealogical Society (https://stlgs.org/research-2/publications/guides-to-research/genealogy-research-tips/research-tip-measuring-land : accessed 2 February 2022).

[4] Neosho County, Kansas, Deed Book J: 614, Jacob Plyborn and wife to G.W. Baty, 17 May 1875; Office of the Register of Deeds, Erie, Kansas.

[5] “History of Essex County, NJ,” The County of Essex, NJ (https://essexcountynj.org/history/ : accessed 22 Feb 2022). 

[6] Ibid.

[7] “Research Tip – Measuring Land,” St. Louis Genealogical Society.

[8] Essex County, New Jersey, Deed Book T7: 574-576, Eleazer Porter and wife to Michael McDonough, 13 October 1851.

[9] Henry Francis Walling, Baker & Tilden, and H.F. Walling’s Map Establishment, Map of Essex County, New Jersey: from surveys (New York: Baker & Tilden, 1859); digital image, Library of Congress (https://www.loc.gov/resource/g3813e.la000447/ : accessed 20 February 2022).

[10] Called “Middleville” because it was midway between Morristown and Newark on the Newark-Springfield Turnpike, a toll-road for stage coaches. “The Hilton Section: Many Names, One Identity,” Durand-Hedden House & Garden Association (https://www.durandhedden.org/archives/articles/the_hilton_section_many_names_one_identity : accessed 19 February 2022).

[11] “A Short History of Maplewood,” Maplewood Historic Preservation Commission (https://www.historicmaplewood.com/maplewood/developmental-history-of-maplewood/#_ftn9 : accessed 20 February 2022).

[12] Mary Oakley Dawson, “Seth Boyden & The Strawberry Era” in “The Hilton Section,” Helen B. Bates, ed., Maplewood Past and Present: A Miscellany(Maplewood, NJ: Friends of the Maplewood Library, 1948), 106.

[13] “Hilton Strawberries: Always Sold at Tip-Top Prices,” The Rural New-Yorker: A Journal for the Suburban and Country Home, vol. LXI, no. 2738 (19 July 1902): 496; digital images, Google Books (https://www.google.com/books/edition/Moore_s_Rural_New_Yorker/LblGAQAAMAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&dq=%22Hilton+Strawberries%22&pg=PA496&printsec=frontcover : accessed 20 February 2022).

Undated picture of the McDonough farm house.

Henry Francis Walling, Baker & Tilden, and H.F. Walling’s Map Establishment, Map of Essex County, New Jersey: from surveys (New York: Baker & Tilden, 1859); digital image, Library of Congress (https://www.loc.gov/resource/g3813e.la000447/ : accessed 20 February 2022).

Week 6 2022: Maps #52Ancestors

I have a terrible sense of direction which is likely what feeds my obsession with maps. Of particular interest are the Ordnance Survey Maps of Great Britain. The OS is the national mapping agency for Great Britain. It began operation after the Jacobite Rebellion in 1745 where the military mapped the Scottish Highlands and continues to function today printing leisure maps but primarily providing advanced geographical information systems (GIS) tools and software.[1] For anyone of English, Scottish, or Irish ancestry, these maps can provide a wealth of information about the lands our ancestors lived on. 

One branch of my husband’s ancestors came from Padbury, a village within the Aylesbury Vale district of Buckinghamshire.[2] A lovely modern-day feature of this village is that many of its buildings date to the 17th-century and are listed on the National Heritage List for England. These old buildings feature thatched or old tile roofs, timber frames, “colour-washed” brick or stone, and other historic features.[3] An ancient village, Padbury was recorded as “Pateberie” in the Domesday Book of 1086, the great land survey commissioned by William the Conqueror to assess the land and resources in England.[4]  

Bruce’s second great-grandfather, John Bryant, was born and raised in Padbury, but immigrated to the United States in his twenties.[5] The last English census where he was enumerated was that of 1851where he and his father were listed as “Ag. Laborers,” and his sister Hannah a “Lacemaker.” There isn’t an accessible map of Padbury from 1851, but the OS has maps showing Padbury in 1880 (close enough for my purposes).[6] The Bryant family lived on Old End, which the OS map depicts as a U-shaped street. Even though neither the map nor the census identifies exactly where families lived, it satisfies the geek in me to study this map and imagine what life was like in this town of about 660 persons in the mid-19th century. The two commercial directories published shortly after the 1851 census aided my research.[7]  

Although Padbury consists of about 2,000 acres of land, the majority of the inhabitants in 1851 lived on Main Street, Old End, and Lower Way. Like the Bryants, 143 of the men and boys in Padbury were agricultural laborers, including boys as young as seven.[8] Thirteen farmers in Padbury occupied between ten and 294 acres and employed a total of eighty-eight men and boys. Eleven, mostly elderly, women were identified as paupers and there were several men categorized as “pauper/farmer.” Other professions were represented as well: one veterinary surgeon, three pig dealers, a carpenter, a couple of brickmakers and bakers, several railway workers, a few dairy maids, dressmakers and tailors, and the Vicar of Padbury.[9]The village had a National School, which was built in 1840 for both boys and girls.[10] Miss Mary Baker was its Governess (she lived with the Vicar’s family).[11]

Thirty women and forty-six girls worked as lacemakers, including one five-year-old. There were two lace dealers in Padbury, so it is likely they all worked for them. The county of Buckinghamshire was the center of English lacemaking from as early as the 16th century.[12]

After lacemakers and men in agricultural pursuits, the next most numerous profession was as “publican,” “maltster,” and/or “victualler.” That is, men and women who owned/operated a tavern, inn, or public house.[13] On the map below, I’ve circled “Red Lion,” “New Inn,” “Robin Hood,” “Blackbird” and one “P.H.” which was either the “White Hart” operated by William Baker or the establishment of John Kirtland who was a blacksmith and beer retailer.[14] Six places to get a drink for a village of 660, not too shabby.[15]

Now here’s a fun fact and the kind of thing I live for: one of those public houses is still in business today! New Inn on London Road in Padbury is open Wednesday to Sunday (and Mondays on Bank Holidays).[16] While they don’t regularly serve food, food trucks visit on the weekends and something called a “foodie evening” also happens on weekends. A large open fireplace is in the main bar and the Inn has a snug with leather settees, a quiet room in the back, and a patio garden. Sounds like a nice place to have a pint (or two).  

 
_________________________________

[1] “Ordnance Survey History,” Ordnance Survey (https://www.ordnancesurvey.co.uk/about/history ; accessed 13 February 2022).

[2] Wikipedia.org, “Padbury,” rev. 19:05, 26 June 2021.

[3] “The Most Important Historic Places in England Are Listed,” Historic England (https://historicengland.org.uk : accessed 13 February 2022). William Page, editor, "Parishes: Padbury," A History of the County of Buckingham: Volume 4, (London: Victoria County History, 1927), 209-215; digital images, British History Online (http://www.british-history.ac.uk/vch/bucks/vol4/pp209-215 : accessed February 13, 2022).

[4] “The Domesday Book Online,” Domesday Book (http://www.domesdaybook.co.uk/index.html : accessed 13 February 2022). 

[5] He was in the United States by 1860. 1860 U. S. census, Nebraska Territory, Douglas County, p. 117, dwelling no. 1208, family no. 840, John Bryant; digital image, Ancestry.com (http://www.ancestry.com : accessed 9 February 2022); citing National Archives microfilm publication M653, roll 665. FYI, “Briant” in the U.K; “Bryant” in the U.S.

[6] “Padbury,” “Ordnance Survey maps,” “Map Images,” National Library of Scotland (https://maps.nls.uk/view/104181257 : accessed 13 February 2022). 

[7] Musson and Craven, Musson & Craven’s Commercial Directory of Buckinghamshire and the Town of Windsor (Nottingham, England: Musson and Craven, 1853), 167; digital images, Special Collections Online, University of Leicester (http://specialcollections.le.ac.uk/digital/collection/p16445coll4/id/301669/rec/3 : accessed 10 February 2022).   Isaac Slater, Slater’s (Late Pigot & Co.) Royal National and Commercial Directory and Topography of the Counties of … Buckinghamshire…. (Manchester and London: Isaac Slater, 1852), digital images, Google Books (http://www.google.books.com : accessed 10 February 2022). 

[8] Page, "Parishes: Padbury." 1851 census of England, Buckinghamshire, Padbury, enumeration district 7f, folio 284-304, PRO HO 107/1724; digital images, Ancestry (http://www.ancestry.com : accessed 10 February 2022). 

[9] 1851 census of England, Buckinghamshire, Padbury.

[10] Slater, Slater’s (Late Pigot & Co.) Royal National and Commercial Directory and Topography of the Counties of … Buckinghamshire (1883), 167.

[11] 1851 census of England, Buckinghamshire, Padbury, fo. 287, line 18, Mary Baker in household of William T. Eyre.

[12] “Fun Fact Friday: Buckingham and Lacemaking,” Buckingham Town Council (https://www.buckingham-tc.gov.uk/buckingham-and-lacemaking/ : accessed 13 February 2022). 

[13] FamilySearch Research Wiki, “England Occupations,” rev. 16:14, 4 May 2021.

[14] Slater, Slater’s (Late Pigot & Co.) Royal National and Commercial Directory and Topography of the Counties of … Buckinghamshire … (1883), 171.

[15] It wasn’t until 1886 that children under thirteen were prohibited from buying intoxicating liquors. Joseph Bridges Matthews, “The Intoxicating Liquors (Sale to Children) Act, 1886 (35 & 36 VICT. c. 93),” The Law Relating to Children and Young Persons (London: Sweet & Maxwell, Ltd., 1895), 111; digital images Google Books (https://www.google.com/books/edition/The_Law_Relating_to_Children_and_Young_P/bDJHAQAAMAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&dq=1886+Intoxicating+Liquors+(Sale+to+Children)+Act&pg=PA111&printsec=frontcover : accessed 14 February 2022).

[16] “New Inn,” What?ub.com (https://whatpub.com/pubs/BUN/1840/new-inn-padbury : accessed 14 February 2022).

“Padbury,” “Ordnance Survey maps,” “Map Images,” National Library of Scotland (https://maps.nls.uk/view/104181257 : accessed 13 February 2022). 

House on Old End, Padbury, Buckinghamshire, England; digital image, April 2009, “Street View,” GoogleMaps (http://wwwgooglemaps.com : accessed 14 February 2022)

New Inn, Padbury, Buckinghamshire, England; digital image, What?ub.com (https://whatpub.com/pubs/BUN/1840/new-inn-padbury : accessed 14 February 2022).

Week 5 2022: Branching Out #52Ancestors

This week’s prompt from Amy is not what I need to do.[1] 

As someone with way too many UFOs, the last thing I need is to find more projects to do.[2] 

So here is a partial project list for 2022:

• Finish the Baty DNA study.[3]

• Finish organization of my digital photos.

• Take the German on-line handwriting course I have already signed up for.

• Disprove the connection of our John Lowe to the Denby Lowes.

•  Re-organize my book on the World War I letters from William Mills and re-publish.

•  Get and analyze the Maryland property records for Henry Hawkins (1627-1699).

•  Sort out all those eighteenth century Applebys in Staffordshire, England.

Branch out? No way! “Dig in” is more like it. 

________________________

[1] I did try to come up with something fitting this week’s theme. Sorry for the kvetching.  

[2] My good friend Anne, a quilter extraordinaire, uses this phrase in reference to her myriad of quilting projects: Un-Finished Objects. Works for me.

[3] Yeah, that was on my list in 2019, 2020, and 2022. Ugh.

Still from a video released by the U.S. Department of Defense showing an encounter between a Navy F/A-18 Super Hornet and an unknown object. Credit: U.S. Department of Defense; The appearance of U.S. Department of Defense (DoD) visual information does not imply or constitute DoD endorsement.

Week 4 2022: Curious #52Ancestors

Mary Elizabeth (Elliott) Baty was my husband’s second great-grandmother. Born in 1829 in Covington, Kentucky, she moved with her parents and siblings in the mid-1840’s to Illinois where they established the village of Elliottstown in Effingham County. Mary married George Washington Baty on 4 May 1846.[1] George and his family had come to Effingham from Ohio at about the same time. George, Mary and their children moved from Elliottstown to Ozark, Missouri in the late 1860’s and then to Neosho County, Kansas in 1874 where they settled for the rest of their lives (living in and around Chanute and Earlton).[2]

This photo of Mary was published on Ancestry by Mary’s third great-granddaughter who has the original. The digital copy she shared with me appears to be a “Cabinet Card” and the embossed imprint identifies the photographer as “W.T. Dole” of Kansas City, Missouri.[3] I’ve been intrigued by this photo ever since I saw it five years ago.

In trying to determine when photographs were taken, the guru in this field is Maureen A. Taylor, from Providence, Rhode Island. Maureen’s book Family Photo Detective provides guidance on how to date photographs by looking at certain clues such as the photographer’s name and address, clothing and jewelry worn for the photo, etc. Unfortunately, Mary’s dress offers few clues. As an elderly woman living in rural Kansas, she would likely not be dressed in the latest fashions. A bonnet of the type she is wearing likely dates to the mid-1850’s but the records show she was still living in Illinois at that time.[4] I imagine, as a frugal farmer’s wife, Mary would find no need to replace a perfectly good bonnet, no matter how out of style it might have become.

An investigation of the photographer provides a better set of facts with which to date this photo. Combing through the city directories for Kansas City and the surrounding communities identifies this photographer as having plied his trade in Kansas City from about 1887 to 1908. While a twenty-year span is not especially helpful to date the photo, this photographer used various names during his career which helps narrow it down.

William T. “Dole” was born in Ireland in 1856 and he and his (likely) brother Samuel emigrated to the United States in about 1880.[5] William and Samuel regularly used both “Dole” and “D’Ole” as surnames. I can’t say I have ever seen an Irish name of “D’Ole” and I haven’t had any luck finding others with that name. Even John Grenham’s website, one of the be-all-end-all websites for Irish research, doesn’t record the name of D’Ole or Dole or even Doole.  I strongly suspect “Dole” and “D’Ole” are made-up names, but figuring that out will have to be someone else’s job.

As with many genealogy projects, a chart is useful to organize the information you have. My chart (posted below) begins with the first year William and/or Samuel are recorded and also includes William’s first wife Jennie, also a photographer during some of the applicable time-frame.[6]

The directories show that William practiced his profession under the Dole name between 1896-1900 and 1903-1908. During both those time-frames, Mary lived in Chanute, Kansas, about 120 miles from downtown Kansas City. [7] However, newspaper clippings from Chanute recount how she went to Kansas City at the end of May 1898 to visit her daughter and stayed until mid-June.[8] Since her daughter Celia (Baty) Sloane was the only one to live in Kansas City, I know that is who she visited. So, did Mary make her way to William Dole during this visit and why him? By researching the Sloane family, the connection between Mary and William became clear.

Celia, her husband James, and children had been living in Kansas City for about seven years before Mary’s visit.[9] Thankfully, I had done a deep-dive into Celia and James for a post I wrote last year. As luck would have it, I had tagged the 1891 Kansas City city directory for James, the first Kansas City directory listing him.[10] Looking at it again, I was delighted to see that their daughter Lucy was working as a bookkeeper for J. M. D’Ole. Yup, that J. M. D’Ole. Hot on the trail, I looked at the 1898 city directory and found Lucy (now Lucy O’Rear) listed as working for “W. T. Dole.”[11] Sweet.

Does this “prove” that William photographed Mary in 1898 when she visited Celia in Kansas City? Perhaps not completely, but it is a pretty good indication. At that time, small town papers such as The Chanute Times would report on the miniscule details of the residents in the community. I would expect that if Mary went to Kansas City at any other time, it would have been reported by the paper. While the lack of a news article doesn’t prove she didn’t visit Celia at another time, it is more evidence that the photo was likely taken in 1898.[12]  If the photograph was during that trip, it shows us sixty-eight years old Mary. A widow since George died in 1890, she sold the family farm in 1902.[13] At the time of her death in 1909, she was living with her oldest child, Martha (Baty) Knowles and her husband, Thomas in Earlton, Kansas.[14] She left eight children (out of eleven), thirty-nine grandchildren and forty-one great grandchildren.[15] Quite the legacy.

———————————————-

[1] Effingham County, Illinois, County Clerk, Register of Marriage Licenses, vol. A-B, 1839-1877, p. 73, no. 61 (1846) Baty-Elliott, 4 May 1846; digital image, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:939J-KS95-JW?i=41&cc=1803970&cat=267606 : accessed 17 July 2017), FHL microfilm 1,010,047, image 42 of 210. 

[2] "Obituary," The Chanute (Kansas) Weekly Times, 20 March 1890, p. 5, col. 3; digital image, Newspapers.com (http://newspapers.com : accessed 27 August 2018).

[3] Maureen A. Taylor, Family Photo Detective (Cincinnati, OH: Family Tree Books, 2013), 46.

[4] Taylor, 107. "Earlton Etchings," Chanute (Kansas) Weekly Times, 30 August 1877, p. 3, col. 3; digital image, Newspapers.com (http://newspapers.com : accessed 27 Aug 2018). 1860 U.S. census, Effingham County, Illinois, population schedule, Township 6, Range 6E, p. 1115 (penned), dwelling note noted, family 1201, George Beaty; digital image, Ancestry (http://www.ancestry.com : accessed 2 February 2022); citing National Archives microfilm publication M653, roll 176.

[5] 1900 U.S. census, Jackson County, Missouri, population schedule, Kansas City, Ward 3, enumeration district 27, sheet 4A, William T. Dole; digital image, Ancestry (http://www.ancestry.com : accessed 2 February 2022); citing National Archives microfilm publication T623, roll not noted.

[6] They divorced in 1890. “Fond of Photographers, Already Divorced From One, Mrs. D’Ole Seeks Separation From Another,” The Kansas City (Missouri) Times, 10 September 1890, p. 5, col. 5. Hoye Directory Company, compiler, City Directory of Kansas City, Mo., (Kansas City, Missouri: Hoye Directory Co., 1887), 210; also subsequent years by the same title: (1888) 215, (1889) 208, (1890) 878, (1891) 200, (1892) 195, (1893) 175, (1894) 187, (1895) 204, (1896) 212, (1897) 208, (1898) 224, (1899) 249, (1900) 290, (1901) 302, (1902) 323, (1903) 346, (1904) 338, (1905)306-7, (1906) 423, (1907) 428; digital images, Ancestry (http://www.ancestry.com : accessed January 2022). Gould Directory Company, compiler, Kansas City Directory (Kansas City, Missouri: Gould Directory Co., 1908), 386; digital images, Ancestry (http://www.ancestry.com : accessed January 2022). Gate City Directory Company, compiler, Kansas City Directory (Kansas City, Missouri: Gate City Directory Co., 1910), 450; also subsequent year by the same title: (1911) 468; digital images, Ancestry (http://www.ancestry.com : accessed January 2022).

[7] Willaim D’Ole had a photo studio in Fort Scott Kansas from about February of 1890 to May of 1891. Ft. Scott is much closer to Chanute than Kansas City. However, it appears that his cabinet cards from that location used the Ft. Scott address and the “D’Ole” name. “W. T. D’Ole, The New Photographer, Proprietor of the Tresslar Gallery,” The Fort Scott (Kansas) Daily Monitor, 28 February 1890, p. 8, col. 3. “Local News,” The Fort Scott (Kansas) Daily Tribune, 7 May 1891, p. 5, col. 1. See also the only D’Ole photos from Fort Scott I could locate included in Lot #349 of items sold by University Archives of Wilton, CT; digital images, University Archives (https://auction.universityarchives.com/auction-catalog/rare-autographs-manuscripts-books_DYNQJOGPIA?keywords=train%2Brobbers : accessed 30 January 2022).

[8] “Turkey Creek,” The Chanute (Kansas) Times, 27 May 1898, p. 1, col. 4. “Turkey Creek,” The Chanute (Kansas) Times, 17 June 1898, p. 1, col. 3. Turkey Creek was a community south of Chanute.

[9] Because her husband was a Civil War veteran, he was enumerated in the 1890 census of surviving soldiers, sailors, marines and widows. 1890 U.S. Census, Jackson County, Missouri, “Special Schedule: Surviving Soldiers, Sailors, Marines and Widows,” Kansas City, ED 185, p. 3 James E. Sloan; digital images, Ancestry (http://www.ancestry.com : accessed 2 February 2022).

[10] Hoye, City Directory of Kansas City, Mo., (1891) 584. When I put the chart together, I threw Jennie in for grins.

[11] Hoye, City Directory of Kansas City, Mo., (1898) 573.

[12] Way too many negatives in that sentence.

[13] Neosho County, Kansas, Deed Book 56: 537, Mary E. Baty, et al., to John Golobay, 14 November 1902; Office of the Register of Deeds, Erie, Kansas. 

[14] Mrs. Mary Beatty Dead," Chanute (Kansas) Daily Tribune, 3 November 1909, p. 4, col. 4. Her actual obituary spells her name correctly. "Obituary," The Chanute (Kansas) Times, 12 November 1909, p. 5, col. 4. Of course, as we all know, spelling is irrelevant. We all know that, don’t we?

[15] "Obituary," The Chanute (Kansas) Times.

Mary E Elliott Baty photograph, ca. 189i; digital image, privately held by [name and address for private use].

See footnote 6 above.

Week 3 2022: Favorite Photo #52 Ancestors

My favorite photo (this go-around) is the one taken in 1904 of my husband’s grandmother, Kathryn Ann (McCormick) Baty. At twelve-years old, she is sporting what the hand-written caption to the picture describes as a “crepe paper hat.” How cute. 

Born and raised in Parsons, Labette County, Kansas, both sets of Kate’s grandparents had settled in Labette County by 1880. Both of her grandfathers started out as farmers, but her maternal grandfather, John Quinlan, gave up farming by 1886, to work as a “boiler maker” for the Missouri-Kansas-Texas Railroad. One of eight children, the family story is that her closest companion was her aunt Ellen Quinlan. Kate’s mom was the oldest of thirteen and “Nell” was her youngest sister, only three years older than Kate. A lot has been written about Nell: she founded the Donnelly Garment Company in 1919 and by 1953 it was the largest dress manufacturer in the world.[1] Nell was a self-made millionaire, visionary entrepreneur, and feminist icon.[2]

Back to the hat. The family story is that Nell learned to sew at an early age, refashioning hand-me-downs from her older sisters, mending clothes for the family and making dresses for her dolls.[3] Known for her style and charm, I suspect that Nell was very likely the creator of the crepe paper hat.

As early as 1892, the local Labette County newspapers described the many things that could be made of crepe paper, including candle shades (no, thank you).[4] In 1901, The Parsons Daily Sun reported on a “most surprising article that has invaded the feminine world”: a crepe paper hat.[5] The stores in Parsons were apparently doing a  land-office business as “all the feminine world has [seen] fit to don crepe paper chapeaux and sally forth.” I can just see it. The paper noted that two young women were in the business of making crepe paper hats in Parsons. Don’t you just bet one of them was Nell?[6]

__________________________

[1] “Nelly Don by the Donnelly Garment Company, Kansas City, Missouri,” Missouri Historic Costume and Textile Collection, University of Missouri (https://mhctc.missouri.edu/collection/nelly-don/ : accessed 18 January 2022).

Kimberly Harper, “Nell Donnelly Reed,” Historic Missourians (https://historicmissourians.shsmo.org/nell-donnelly-reed : accessed 18 January 2022). Lisa S Thompson, “Nelly Don: An Educational Leader” (2018). Dissertations. 192 (https://digitalcommons.lindenwood.edu/dissertations/192 : accessed 18 January 2022).

[2] I doubt she’d identify herself as a feminist, but I do.

[3] Betsy Blodgett, “Nelly Don: Self Made in America,” Seamwork.com (https://www.seamwork.com/magazine/2015/12/nelly-don-self-made-in-america : accessed 18 January 2022).

[4] “Home Hints,” Labette (Kansas) County Democrat, 14 January 1892, p. 4, col. 5.

[5] “The Crepe Paper Hats,” The Parsons (Kansas) Daily Sun, 10 July 1901, p. 3, col. 2.

[6] Ibid.

Kathryn Ann (McCormick) Baty at twelve. Photo from family collection.

Week 2 2022: Favorite Find #52 Ancestors

When I finally found my second great-grandparents Nicholas Muller and Anna Maria Manderi it was a with a sense of satisfaction that I am sure many genealogists can relate to. It was a long, hard slog over many years with me pounding my desk with my head. So cool that what I found during my research involving them is one of my “Favorite Finds.” 

Nicholas was from Lengelsheim in the Lorraine region in France and Anna Maria was from Goßersweiler in Bavaria, Germany. Lorraine is one of those regions in Europe whose borders changed often across its long history: sometimes in France; sometimes in Germany. France annexed Lorraine in 1766, fifty-eight years before Nicholas was born, but it continued to be a largely German-speaking area.[1] Indeed, although Nicholas usually identified himself as French, he was occasionally identified as German and likely spoke German.

While Goßersweiler and Lengelsheim are less than twenty-five miles apart (as the crow flies), it is hard to imagine that Nicholas and Anna knew each other in Germany. However, I have not found any immigration records for them to know if they came to the U.S. together nor any other records that tell me how they met in New York City. Nicholas became a U.S. citizen in October of 1849, so must have come to the U.S. no later than 1846 as the immigration laws at the time required him to renounce his foreign citizenship three years before admission as a U.S. citizen.[2]

Nicholas and Anna were married at St. John the Baptist church in Manhattan on 10 November 1846.[3] The second parish to serve German Catholics in New York, St. John the Baptist was established in 1840.[4] For its first twenty years or so, the church was beset with conflicts between the lay board of trustees and the parishioners.[5] The church as closed on and off, including for some months in 1846. Located on 30th near 7th Avenue, the small frame church burned to the ground in 1847.[6]  

Even though the church burned, the records of marriages and other ceremonies from that era survived and were digitized by the genealogy website FindMyPast.com. How lovely! The six-line entry for their marriage tells me so much:

·      Nicholas’ age: twenty-two

·      Nicholas’ birthplace: Lengelsheim in Lotharingia (ancient name for present day Lorraine and other areas).[7]

·      Nicholas’ parents: Joannis Muller and Catharine Burgholzer.

·      Anna Maria’s age: twenty-one

·      Anna Maria’s birthplace: Völkersweiler, Bavaria

·      Anna Maria’s Parents: Martin Manderi and Francisca Kristiani 

·      Witnesses: Joseph Gläschen and “Kenrijus Feiniges”

What was that? Joseph Gläschen ?

As it turns out, one of the witnesses to the marriage of my second great-grandparents was a man whose son would eventually marry their daughter. In and of itself, not terribly unusual, except this man, Joseph Gläschen, was another of my second great-grandfathers! Since the Gläschens were from Wernersberg, which is only about a mile from Völkersweiler, I am guessing that Joseph was someone they knew from the old country. “Favorite Find” indeed!  

———————————————

[1] Wikipedia.org, “Lorraine,” rev. 20:20, 9 January 2022.

[2] Eillen Bolger, “Background History of the United States Naturalization Process,” Virginia Commonwealth University (https://socialwelfare.library.vcu.edu/federal/naturalization-process-in-u-s-early-history/ : accessed 16 January 2022).

[3] St. John the Baptist, Manhattan, New York, marriage register, unpaginated, Muller-Mandery (1846); digital image, Findmypast(https://search.findmypast.com/record?id=S2%2FUS%2FNEW_YORK%2FDRIVE_20%2F0036%2FROLL_792%2F00751&parentid=US%2FNY%2FCATH%2FPR%2FMAR%2FPH2%2F00219884%2FB)

[4] Wikipedia.org, “St. John the Baptist Church (Manhattan),” rev. 00:32, 10 July 2021.

[5] Remigius Lafort, S.T.D., Censor, The Catholic Church in the United States of America (New York City: The Catholic Editing Co., 1914), 338; digital image, Google Books (https://www.google.com/books/edition/The_Catholic_Church_in_the_United_States/KL4YAAAAYAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&pg=PA338&printsec=frontcover ; accessed 16 January 2022).

[6] Ibid.

[7] Wikipedia.org, “Lotharingia,” rev. 04:31, 16 January 2022.

Wickimedia.org, “File: Lengelsheim.jpg,” undated photo, rev. 08:43, 31 December 2014.

Week 1 2022: Foundations #52Ancestors

One of my most favorite people growing up was my Nana – Catherine Josephine (née Spencer) Maier. I’ve written about her before. She was a tough old broad, but I still loved her to pieces. I wish I’d asked her more about her family and her husband’s family (her husband died two months after my parents married so I never got to know him). 

My grandfather, Charles Peter Maier, Jr, was the second of that name as his older brother died at twenty months old and, of course, his parents had to give him the exact same name. I’ve researched the Maier family for many years and through that I have, happily, gotten to know a second-cousin on that side of the family. 

I traced the Maier family back to Bodnegg, a rural village in Ravensburg, Baden-Württemberg, Germany.[1] I can’t find much on modern Bodnegg, other than it has about 3,200 residents and Google Maps shows that it is in a beautiful part of Germany. I’m also not having much luck in finding much about the history of the village. One stumbling block is that while the Bodnegg Catholic church records on FamilySearch go back to the 1600’s, you can only view the older ones at a FamilySearch affiliate library or Family History Center. The center nearest me has been closed since March of 2020, but the Mid-Continent Public Library system in Kansas City is an affiliate. Since last Saturday was a gloomy day here, I decided to go to the Red Bridge branch of the MCPL and work on these Maiers (or “Mayer” as the name was spelled most of the time). 

One of the cool things about FamilySearch is that you can export the data from your search into an Excel spreadsheet. I’d done this before and it’s gratifying to be able to put together family units in one town. Let me explain what I did:

First, I searched for all people with the last name Mayer/Maier in the church records for Bodnegg.   The time-frame for births, marriages, and deaths varied, but generally 1650’s to 1850’s. My search resulted in a bit less than 500 records. I downloaded my results into a spreadsheet and then sorted them by birth, marriage, and death. I then was able to create about forty-five distinct Mayer family groups.[2] By doing this, I could more easily see the connections between the brothers and some of the sisters. It was especially interesting to see the connections between the Mayer/Maier family and the Füx/Fuchs family as many of them intermarried. 

Here are a couple of the discoveries I made – one small and one HUGE:

My great-aunt was Grace Creszentia Maier and I found that middle-name going back in the Maier family to a Crescentia Mayer, born in July of 1770 to Anton and Sabina (née Sterk) Mayer.[3] Nice.

The big discovery I found was that my 3rd great-grandfather was not a Mayer. I knew something was fishy with him because when he married, the record did not note his father’s name and identified his mother as a Mayer, which should have been her maiden name. As it turns out, it was. 

Born 3 March 1807 to Cäzilia Mayer, Johann Baptist’s baptismal record notes he was illegitimate.[4] The Catholic priests kindly noted that Cäzilia herself alleged the father was Johann Baptist Ekler. I wrote about German marriage restrictions some time ago. To refresh your memory, in the nineteenth century, the poor in Germany did not have the freedom to marry whomever they wished. “Marriage restrictions [had] a long tradition in many German states extending back to the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.”[5]  These regulations were intended to address increased pauperism and the commensurate increased public support for the poor. You can see the effect these restrictions had by looking at the one page where Johann Baptist’s baptism was recorded: of the nineteen baptism listed, three were of illegitimate children. 

I have many questions about what this record is telling us. First, why did Cäzilia need to make this allegation? None of the other illegitimate births note this. Was her relationship with Johann Ekler not consensual? Did he skip town or deny his fatherhood? Second, I cannot confirm that Ekler was his last name and, while his residence is noted on the baptismal record, I cannot read what it says (maybe Weingarten?). Another 2022 project!

Cäzilia was one of twelve children born to Joann Mayer and Maria Anna Füx. Only nineteen when she had Johann Baptist, she died in June of 1807, three months after his birth.[6] While I need to do much more work on this family, it appears that two of Cäzilia’s sisters likewise gave birth to illegitimate children.[7]

Am I surprised to find a hidden branch of my family tree? On the contrary; I am thrilled!

____________________

[1] Located in South-West Germany, near the border of Switzerland and closest – as the crow flies – to Zürich.

[2] I could not create family groups for all entries, especially for the females whose names changed after marriage. 

[3] "Deutschland, Württemberg, Diözese Rottenburg-Stuttgart, Katholische Kirchenbücher, 1520-1975", database, FamilySearch (https://www.familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:D7SQ-5P3Z : 8 September 2021), Crescentia Mayer, 1770. I posted a picture of Grace Creszentia back in June of 2019. 

[4] "Deutschland, Württemberg, Diözese Rottenburg-Stuttgart, Katholische Kirchenbücher, 1520-1975", database, FamilySearch (https://www.familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:D7SQ-8VMM : 8 September 2021), Johann Baptist Ekler, 1807.

[5] John Knodel, “Law, Marriage and Illegitimacy in Nineteenth-Century Germany,” Population Studies, Vol. 20, No. 3 (March 1967), pp. 279-294, image, JSTOR (https://www.jstor.org/stable/2172673 : accessed 11 January 2020).

[6] "Deutschland, Württemberg, Diözese Rottenburg-Stuttgart, Katholische Kirchenbücher, 1520-1975", database, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:3Q9M-C3HK-SSS1-5?cc=3499252 : 4 January 2022), > image 1 of 1. 

[7] "Deutschland, Württemberg, Diözese Rottenburg-Stuttgart, Katholische Kirchenbücher, 1520-1975", database, FamilySearch (https://www.familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:D7S3-8Y2M : 8 September 2021), Johannes Mayer, 1812. "Deutschland, Württemberg, Diözese Rottenburg-Stuttgart, Katholische Kirchenbücher, 1520-1975", database, FamilySearch (https://www.familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:D7S3-8R3Z : 8 September 2021), Joseph Mayer, 1810.

Photograph of Bodnegg, Germany by Hans Roam, All The Cities (https://allthecities.com/cities/bodnegg#true-10 : accessed 11 January 2022).

Stick To It

Whenever I am working on a family tree, be it mine or someone else’s, I inevitably learn something new. It’s not always what I started looking for (did someone say “squirrel”?), but I come away from most work sessions better informed and more educated.

My lesson this past week: never, ever give up.

Nine long years ago, I obtained the death certificate for my great-grandmother, Anna Marie (nee Miller) Glacy.[1] That record identified her parents as Frank and Annie Miller and stated that Annie Miller had been born in Germany. My grandmother Mae (married to Anna Marie’s son Anthony) had maintained that Annie Miller’s maiden name was “Lattrell.” Indeed, “Lottrell” is shown as her maiden name on Mae and Anthony’s 1915 marriage certificate.[2] However, in addition to the death certificate, every other record for Anna Marie Glacy showed Miller/Muller for her maiden name.[3] Time and time again I struck out researching the Lattrell name. I should also mention that my grandmother Mae was not the most reliable of informants – she misidentified her father’s first name on her own marriage certificate, failed to tell her children when said father died, failed to mention that she found her father-in-law’s body after he committed suicide, and on and on. That the Lattrell name was a fiction was highly probable.

Fast-forward to 2019 when I find the baptismal record for one of Anna Marie’s daughters.[4] Find My Past had recently started publishing records pertaining to eight million sacraments from the Archdiocese of New York spanning more than 130 years and 230 individual parishes.[5] Anna Marie’s ninth child was baptized at St. Nicholas in Manhattan on 8 August 1882. Her baptismal sponsors? George and Mary Lattrell. 

Wait. What? 

I immediately do some digging into George and Mary and some of what I found was a bit of a mess and hard to track. I don’t find anything helpful except that in 1880 George and Mary are living in the same apartment building in Brooklyn that Anna Marie and her family are living in! The census tells me that George and Mary are German-born, he sixty-three (born about 1817), and she fifty-four (born about 1826). No children are shown. Still, I cannot figure out the connection with Anna Marie. Maybe since this was her ninth child, she’d run out of relatives to be sponsors and asked the neighbors. IDK That’s all I got so I move on to bigger and better things.

Still the Lattrells nagged at me. I came back to them again and again, with no success

This past week, I got back to them determined to figure this out. I contacted a cousin on that side of the family who had previously provided me with some great pictures and information to see if she had any thoughts.[6] But I needed to think outside of the box because clearly inside the box was not working. You know those little leaves Ancestry gives you for “hints” it has found? What if, on my Ancestry tree, I added Mary Lattrell as Anna Marie’s sister? What hints (i.e. records, documents, etc.) would I get? So, I link her and George to my tree and BOOM. I’ll cut to the chase because the info out there on Mary and George is a little complicated and you don’t really need to know it. 

It turns out that Mary Lattrell was Anna Marie’s MOTHER although Muller/Miller was Anna Marie’s maiden name after all. 

Awesome.

It took me some of an afternoon put all the right people with all the right families. Fortunately, I found a series of documents that tied them all together: Mary’s 1901 will and the accompanying probate file. In her will, she identified two daughters (that I didn’t know she had), a grandson (that I didn’t know she had), and – wait for it – the seven surviving children of her deceased daughter “Maria Anna Glasy,” including my grandfather Anthony.[7] Not only does her will name them all, but the probate file shows their home addresses and I was able to cross-check and verify those addresses with the 1900 census. Woot.

While I have more work to do, I’ve learned so far that my second great-grandmother, Mary Lattrell, was born Anna Marie Mandery in Bayern, Germany on 4 June 1826, the sixth child of Martin and Francisca (nee Christiany) Mandery.[8] She married Nicholas Muller in 1846 and they had seven children (including Anna Marie).[9] Nicholas died in 1866 and four years later, Mary married George Lattrell, a widower who had three daughters.[10]

So why did my grandmother Mae think Lattrell was her mother-in-law’s maiden name? Thinking about the timing of events, the answer is simple. Anthony must have known his grandmother Mary. The year before she died, he and his father were living about two blocks away from her and he was in his late teens.[11] Since Anthony’s mother died when he was a toddler and Mary married George thirteen years before he was even born, I can see where they grabbed onto the Lattrell name (although clearly it would NOT be his mother’s maiden name). Anthony died in 1927 when my dad and his sister were quite young and they never had much of a connection with the Glacy family after that.[12] Otherwise, I’m guessing I would have known these great-grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. Well, it’s never too late as long as you never give up!

[1] New York, New York City Department of Health, Certificate of Death no. 594288, Annie Glacy, 1887; Municipal Archives, New York City.

[2] New Jersey, Bureau of Vital Statistics, Certificate and Record of Marriage no. 548, Glacy-McDonough, 1915; New Jersey Department of Health and Senior Services, Bureau of Vital Statistics, Trenton, New Jersey.

[3] Including a couple of baptismal records and birth certificates. Once again for those of you in the back, spelling is irrelevant. Miller, Muller, Müller, Mueller – it’s all the same in this case (Müller likely being the original German spelling). Same with Lattrell, Lattrall, Latrel, Latral and Glacy, Glazy, Glasy, Glacey, Glaese, etc. Don’t get me started on how many different ways Gläschen is spelled.

[4] St Nicholas Parish, Manhattan, New York, unpaginated, Maria Anna Glaese, 8 Aug 1882; digital image, "New York Roman Catholic Parish Baptisms," Findmypast (https://www.findmypast.com : accessed 4 February 2019).

[5] Findmypast Blog, “Findmypast brings New York Catholic records online for the first time!,” 6 March 2018, (https://www.findmypast.com/blog/family-records/findmypast-brings-new-york-catholic-records-online-for-the-first-time : accessed 24 June 2021).

[6] Thanks much Kathleen.

[7] Surrogate Court, Brooklyn, New York, Wills, Vol. 286:209-13, will and other records pertaining to the estate of Anna Marie Lattrell; image, FamilySearch (https://www.familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:3QS7-899T-X9PN-5?i=476&cc=1920234&cat=317954 : accessed 21 June 2021), FHL microfilm 5,533,889, images 477-479 of 852.

[8] Goßersweiler, Rheinland-Pfalz, Taufregister [baptismal register] (1806-1853), Anna Marie Mandery (1826), 222; image, FamilySearch, (https://www.familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:3QS7-892X-7WCT?i=231 : accessed 22 June 2021), FHL microfilm 4,034,324, image 232 of 485.

[9] St. John the Baptist, Manhattan, New York, marriage register, unpaginated, Muller-Mandery (1846); digital image, Findmypast (https://www.findmypast.com : accessed 24 June 2021). 1900 U.S. census, Brooklyn, Kings Co., New York, pop. sch., ED 444, p. 18B, dwell. 213, fam. 437, Mary A. Lattrell in household of Catherine Heydinger; image, Ancestry (http://www.ancestry.com : accessed 25 June 2021); citing NARA microfilm publication T623, roll not noted.

[10] German Genealogy Group, “Church Marriage Database,” St. Benedict, Brooklyn, New York, George Lattrell-Anna Marie Miller, 5 July 1870 [original record has been requested]. 1855 New York State census, Kings Co., pop. sch., Brooklyn, unpaginated, dwell. 296, George Lattrall household; image, Ancestry (http://www.ancestry.com : accessed 25 June 2021); “New York, U.S., State Census, 1855,” image 72 of 120.

[11] 1900 U.S. census, Brooklyn, Kings Co., New York, pop. sch., ED 443, p. 20A, dwell. 240, fam. 473, Joe Glacy; image, Ancestry (http://www.ancestry.com : accessed 25 June 2021); citing NARA microfilm publication T623, roll not noted.

[12] New Jersey, State Department of Health, Bureau of Vital Statistics, Certificate and Record of Death no. 134, Anthony Joseph Glacy, 1927; New Jersey Department of Health and Senior Services, Trenton, New Jersey.

Anna Marie (Muller) Glacy. Photo courtesy of Kathleen Adams.

Sundown Towns

The 100th anniversary of the Greenwood massacre got me to thinking about when my husband told me that his hometown of Monett, Missouri, was a “sundown” town. To be honest, I had never heard of the term before he mentioned it. Because two branches of his family settled in Monett before 1900, my husband knew of that designation, but not how it came to be. I’ve since discovered that the pre-eminent expert on how this happened is Murray Bishoff, the news editor for The Monett Times. Mr. Bishoff kindly shared with me some of his research and writing on the event that lead to this ignominious designation and I would like to share what I learned from him and other sources.

A “sundown town” is where a town is “all-white” on purpose. The first “sundown towns” began in 1890 and continued until the late 1960’s. [1] While the phrase evokes the sentiment that Blacks were not welcome after dark, the reality is that these towns barred Blacks from owning or renting property in the town. I was surprised to find that most “sundown towns” existed primarily outside of the traditional South.[2] As an example, James Loewen, a noted American sociologist, historian, and professor, has calculated that approximately 70% of all the towns in Illinois were sundown towns.[3]

Founded in 1887 by the St. Louis and San Francisco Railroad (“Frisco”), Monett, is physically situated in both Barry County and Lawrence County, in the south-west region of Ozarks, a “physiographic region” in portions of Missouri, Arkansas, Oklahoma and Kansas.[4] For census purposes, the population of Monett is enumerated in Barry County. In 1890, Monett’s total population was 1,699.[5] However, because it was too small a town to be included in the census statistics defining the population by race it is not precisely known how many Blacks actually lived in Monett at the time.[6] One estimate puts the number of Blacks by 1894 at less than 100.[7] The census recorded ninety-seven Blacks living in Barry County in 1890. By 1900, there were only nine. Monett had grown to a total population of 3,547 by 1900, but there were no blacks living there.[8]The lack of a Black population seems to be something Monett was initially proud of but which they soon stopped talking about and it became an open secret.[9] The investigative work of Mr. Bishoff in the mid-1990’s showed a light on this secret and how it came to be. 

The formation of a “sundown town” was a four-step process: first, an alleged “infraction” by an African American against a white; second, the lynching of a suspect; and third, the whole-sale expulsion of the Black population from the town; and, lastly, the official or unofficial designation of the town as “all-white.” In 1894, Monett followed this course which began a “chain of racial violence” across the Ozarks that amounted to nothing less than an ethnic cleansing.[10]

It began on the night of June 20, 1894, with the shooting of Robert Greenwood, a brakeman for the Frisco.[11] Greenwood and some other railroad men encountered a group of Black men in front of a saloon. What happened next is not clear, but it was determined that one of the Black men shot Greenwood and he died two days later. A manhunt ensued and a Black man by the name of Hulett Ulysses Hayden was taken into custody on June 28.[12] While on a train to Cassville (the county seat) the marshal, his deputy, and Hayden were besieged by a group of 50-100 armed men who forced the train to stop and lynched Hayden from a telegraph pole along the track. 

It was determined less than a week later that Hayden did not kill Greenwood.[13] No one was ever convicted of Hayden’s murder and he was buried in an unmarked grave in the Oakdale Cemetery in Monett. The town paid L. King $10 for the coffin, R. M. Hyde $5 for “hauling the body,” and James Pilant $5 for the burial.[14]

As Mr. Bishoff uncovered, “[t]he uprising that led to the death of Hulett Hayden was not over with the lynching. …[A]ll the African Americans in Monett were ordered by the railroad men to get out of the town.”[15] While there was no official town ordinance to this effect, the railroad men were able to impose their will on the community. It was reported by The Chicago Tribune that Monett had a sign on its main street reading “N****, don’t let the sun go down.”[16] Bishoff could find no evidence that this sign existed in Monett, but notes that the stories of such signs in Barry County are widespread. Of course, no signs were actually needed. The Butler (Missouri) Weekly Times had a not-so--amusing anecdote on the front page of the paper in July of 1905. It read: 

“A Joplin negro was making his will and requested of his lawyer that when he died he be buried in Monett. ‘In Monett,” exclaimed the lawyer, excitedly, ‘why do you want to be buried in Monett?’ ‘Well, it’s like this,’ said the negro, ‘when the devil goes out looking for negroes, Monett’s the last place he’ll think of going, and that’s why.’”[17]

Race relations in Monett continued to be fraught after 1894. Because Monett was a Frisco hub, Black railroad workers frequently found themselves there on an overnight assignment. In 1914, the “problem” of finding accommodations for Black employees had been a “vexatious” one because Blacks “did not desire to move their families here.”[18] The Frisco, in conjunction with the railroad’s Y.M.C.A. devised to build accommodations near the machine shops to accommodate about twenty people. The Monett Times opined: “We feel sure that this solution of the negro question will meet with general approval.”[19]

In 1991, when Mr. Bishoff first wrote about the ethnic cleansing in Monett he was greeted with a lot of hostility.[20] The townspeople wanted to keep it hidden and were “furious” that this ugly chapter in the town’s history was being brought back up.[21] Today, the sun is setting on the many “sundown” towns across America, even Monett.[22] Monett resident, Grace Whitlock-Vega, has organized a fundraiser to erect a monument in memory of Hughlett Ulysses Hayden. If you care to donate, here is the link: https://gofund.me/c8ec90f6.

Many thanks to Murray Bishoff for the wealth of information he and The Monett Times provided. If you want to learn more about “sundown” towns or check to see if your hometown was one, James Loewen has a terrific website devoted to this: https://sundown.tougaloo.edu/sundowntowns.php.

[1] James W. Loewen, Sundown Towns: A Hidden Dimension of American Racism, (New York: The New Press, 2005), 4.

[2] Ibid.

[3] Ibid. Wikipedia.org, “James W. Loewen,” rev. 13:12, 16 May 2021.

[4] Wikipedia.org, “Ozarks,” rev. 02:23, 31 May 2021.

[5] Bureau of the Census, Department of Commerce and Labor, Eleventh Census of the United States taken in the year 1890, “Table 5.- Population of States and Territories by Minor Civil Divisions: 1880 and 1890: Missouri,” 211; digital image, United States Census Bureau (ftp://ftp2.census.gov/library/publications/decennial/1890/volume-1/1890a_v1-10.pdf : accessed 4 June 2021). Monett was described as being part of Capp Creek and King Prairie townships.

[6] Bureau of the Census, Department of Commerce and Labor, Thirteenth Census of the United States taken in the year 1910, “Statistics for Missouri, Table 1. – Population of Minor Civil Divisions: 1910, 1900, and 1890,” 574; digital image, United States Census Bureau (https://www2.census.gov/library/publications/decennial/1910/abstract/supplement-mo.pdf : accessed 3 June 2021).

[7] Walter Rucker and James Nathaniel Upton, editors, Encyclopedia of American Race Riots, Vol. 2, N-Z and Primary Documents, “Southwest Missouri Riots (1894-1906)” (Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 2007), 604.

[8] Bureau of the Census, Department of Commerce and Labor, Twelfth Census of the United States taken in the year 1900, “Table 24. – Native and Foreign Born and White and Colored Population, Classified by Sex , for Places having 2,500 inhabitants or more: 1900,” 664; digital image, United States Census Bureau (https://www2.census.gov/library/publications/decennial/1900/volume-1/volume-1-p11.pdf  : accessed 3 June 2021).

[9] The latest reference I can locate to Monett having no Black residents is 1932-34.   Monett Commercial Club, official stationary, 1932-34; digital image, Memorabilia of Missouri (https://sites.rootsweb.com/~cappscreek/images/stationary2.jpg : accessed 7 June 2021).

[10] Loewen, Sundown Towns, 95-96. 1894 – Monett; 1901 Pierce City, MO; 1903 Joplin, MO; 1906 Springfield, MO and Harrison, AR. 

[11] This synopsis of the events is based on Mr. Bishoff’s work and his article, “Monett’s Darkest Hour: The Lynching of June 28, 1894,” The Monett (Missouri) Times, 27 and 28 June 1994, provided by Mr. Bishoff to me by email 31 May 2021. 

[12] “Colored Murderer Arrested,” The Atchison (Kansas) Daily Globe, 29 June 1894, p. 1, col. 3.

[13] “Hung to a Telegraph Pole,” The Cassville (Missouri) Republican, 5 July 1894, p. 1, col. 6.

[14] “County Court Proceeding,” The Cassville (Missouri) Republican, 16 August 1894, p. 5, col. 6.

[15] Bishoff email to Baty.

[16] “Negros Killed or Driven Away,” The Chicago Tribune, 21 August 1901, p. 1, col. 5.

[17] [No title], The Butler (Missouri) Weekly Times, 27 July 1905, p. 1, col. 1.

[18] “The Negro Question Nearly Settled,” The Monett (Missouri) Times, 26 June 1914, p. 5, col. 3.

[19] Ibid.

[20] Elliot Jaspin, Buried in the Bitter Waters: The Hidden History of Racial Cleansing in America (New York: Basic Books, 2007), 83.

[21] Ibid.

[22] While Monett’s Black population is currently zero, ten years ago 100 Blacks lived there. “Quick Facts, Monett city, Missouri – Population estimates, July 1, 2019,” United States Census Bureau (https://www.census.gov/quickfacts/monettcitymissouri : accessed 4 June 2021). “Monett – Demographics,” Data Commons (https://datacommons.org/place/geoId/2949196?topic=Demographics : accessed 4 June 2021). This dramatic drop in Black population occurred between 2011 and 2014. I’m guessing there is a story there.

“‘The Magnet City,’ of the Ozarks is our home and we like it. Good climate, good schools, good government, good roads, good water and 6000 good citizens - all white.”

Monett Commercial Club, official stationary, 1932-34; digital image, Memorabilia of Missouri (https://sites.rootsweb.com/~cappscreek/images/stationary2.jpg : accessed 7 June 2021).

Revolutionary War Rifleman William Loyd (1747-1834)

When I enrolled my husband in the Sons of the American Revolution organization, it wasn’t merely a lark (although I’ll confess that I did take an easy path by piggy-backing on the work his cousins had done for their DAR application). In addition to this particular ancestor – Samuel Pickerill, Jr – my husband has three additional direct ancestors that fought in the Revolution as well as seven others (cousins, uncles) who were Patriots. One of these was his fifth great-grandfather, William Loyd (or Lloyd), a private in Captain Gabriel Long’s Company of the 11th Virginia Regiment of Foot under the command of Colonel Daniel Morgan. 

William enlisted for three-years’ service on 18 September 1776 in Culpeper County, Virginia.[1] I haven’t had much luck finding any records for him prior to this date in Virginia or elsewhere. A biography notes he was born in Wales, but that has not been proven.[2] Here is as good a place as any to remind myself (and you) that only 10% of genealogy records are on-line. Given COVID restrictions and all, I will have to come back to William someday to complete his biography. For now, I have to be content with what I know about his Revolutionary War service and, frankly, it’s pretty neat. 

Colonel Daniel Morgan had been an officer in the Virginia Colonial Militia during the French and Indian Wars and was chosen to command one the rifle companies created by the Continental Congress in 1775.[3] In late 1775, he and Colonel Benedict Arnold led three rifle companies into Canada where he was captured by the British after the Battle of Quebec. Paroled in September 1776, Morgan was rewarded for his bravery with a promotion and the command of the 11th Virginia Regiment.[4]

William’s immediate commander, Gabriel Long, had also served in the French and Indian War and was regarded one of the best riflemen in Virginia. Responsible for personally recruiting his company of riflemen, Long recruited men from Loudoun, Frederick, Prince William and Amelia Counties in Virginia, which may be a clue as to where William was living at the time.[5]

The “smoothbore” musket was by far the most commonly used weapon for American soldiers during the Revolution, but it was the rifle that Americans expected would win the war.[6] The American rifle (also called the Kentucky Long Rifle or Pennsylvania Long Rifle) was developed from a Swiss rifle introduced by Germans in the colonies around 1700.[7] The peculiarities of American colonial and frontier life necessitated alterations to the heavy short rifle used in Europe. American “backwoodsmen” need a more accurate, lighter, quick-fire hunting rifle and the American rifle was born. With rifles, the Continental Army’s elite marksmen could accurately shoot from a distance of 250-300 yards.[8] Remembering his experiences before the Revolution, Washington expected these expert marksmen would form the core of his army.[9] Nevertheless, he experienced some frustration trying to establish good order and discipline with these “backcountry,” independent-minded riflemen.[10]

Because the rifle was much slower to load than the musket, it was primarily used under cover – wherever trees or other obstructions would give the rifleman time to reload.[11] Although the musket was inherently inaccurate and had a short range, it could shoot up to four rounds per minute and was equipped with a bayonet.[12] Nevertheless, many Rifle Regiments (especially the Virginians and North Carolinians) were able to maximize the rifle’s advantages and were especially effective when used conjunction with soldiers sporting muskets and bayonets.[13] Colonel Morgan’s Rifle Corps was often cited as the “high-water mark” for riflemen during the war.[14] Morgan’s regiment was thought to be the most “respectable body of Continental troops that were ever in America.”[15]

 In my minds-eye, I pictured William and his fellow riflemen dressed like Colonial frontiersmen and that is not far from the mark. Virginia appears not to have been able to provide its soldiers with standard military coats nor much else in the way of equipment.[16] Attired in buckskin breeches, wool or linen “hunting shirts,” many sported moccasins and a round felt hat.[17] No tri-cornered hats for these men.

 In February of 1777, before he was even done recruiting his sharpshooters, Colonel Morgan was directed by congress to march his troops to join General Washington in New Jersey.[18] The men were to bring their own arms, blankets and clothes.[19] The first muster roll for Captain Long’s Rifle Company (with Pvt. William Loyd) is dated 16 May 1777, a month before Morgan took official command of his regiment of Rangers.[20] The men were in a camp near Bound Brook, New Jersey and had already suffered casualties on the way to New Jersey. This first muster roll lists thirteen men as prisoners and eight killed.

 Throughout the spring and summer of 1777, Washington used William and his fellow Rangers to harass British Colonel William Howe’s troops in New Jersey forcing them to retreat to Staten Island in June.[21] “The heavily encumbered English or German [Hessian mercenary] soldier was no match for the lightly equipped and active backwoodsman in a trial of speed.”[22]

 Morgan’s regiment was then deployed to Trenton and northern New York, where the “terror inspired by his name among the Canadians and Indians, had induced a general desertion of these branches of the British force.”[23] Morgan’s Rangers distinguished themselves at the Battles of Saratoga (September-October 1777) which resulted in the surrender of British troops under command of General John Burgoyne and marked a turning point in the war.[24] It was reported that when he met Colonel Morgan, General Burgoyne said, “Sir, you command the finest regiment in the world.”[25]

 After Saratoga, Morgan’s regiment made its way south to join the Main Army for its winter encampment at Valley Forge. On the way, Morgan’s riflemen joined with the Marquis de Lafayette in a battle with Cornwallis at Gloucester Point, New Jersey. Some of Morgan’s men were unable to join in this fight for lack of shoes.[26] The are no muster rolls for Long’s company in November of 1777, but the company’s payroll reflects William was an active member. 

 One of the most famous episodes of the American Revolution, the winter encampment at Valley Forge was one of tremendous suffering from cold and starvation, although not a completely unusual experience for the Continental soldier.[27] William is recorded as having been there from December 1777 until April 1778.[28] Despite their privations, the rifle corps had scouting duties and were placed in advance on the lines west of Philadelphia at the Radnor Friends Meetinghouse, a Quaker meeting house now on the National Register of Historic Places.[29]

 In June of 1778, Morgan commanded his Rangers leading up to and during the Battle at Monmouth Courthouse in New Jersey.[30] It was during this battle that the tale of “Molly Pitcher” was born.[31] In his pension papers, William said he was discharged from duty at “Fort Sullivan” on the Susquehanna River at the New York-Pennsylvania border by General John Sullivan himself. This fort, at Tioga Point, Athens, Pennsylvania was built in 1779.[32] William is shown on a final payroll in September 1779.

 I know I have provided a lot of facts and figures about William, but I completely geeked-out to find him associated with all of these famous people and having participated in all of these famous battles.[33] It is one thing to hear about these Revolutionary War moments, but quite another to find an ancestor involved in them; especially in such a notable fashion. In gratitude for the 11th Virginia Regiment of Food, Washington issued this general order:

The Commander in Chief returns his warmest thanks to Col. Morgan, and the officers and men of his intrepid corps, for their gallant behavior in the several skirmishes with the enemy yesterday. He hopes the most spirited conduct will distinguish the whole army, and gain them a just title to the praises of their country, and the glory due to brave men. They will remember, that they are engaged in the cause of humanity and of freedom, and that the period is probably at hand, when, by their noble and generous exertions, the Liberties and Independence of America shall be firmly established.[34]

 Way to go William!

_______________________________

[1] “William Loyd” (Pvt., 11th Vir. Reg., Revolutionary War); digital images in “Compiled Service Records of Soldiers Who Served in the American Army During the Revolutionary War” database, Fold3 (http://www.fold3.com : accessed 10 May 2021); imaged from  Compiled Service Records of Soldiers Who Served in the American Army during the American Revolution, National Archives microfilm publication M88, roll 1070. 

[2] William Smith Bryan and Robert A. Rose, A History of the Pioneer Families of Missouri: With Numerous Sketches, Anecdotes, Adventures, Etc., Relating to Early Days in Missouri. Also the Lives of Daniel Boone and the Celebrated Indian Chief, Black Hawk, with Numerous Biographies and Histories of Primitive Institutions (St. Louis: Bryan Brand & Company, 1876), 277.

[3] Journals of the Continental Congress, 1774-1789, ed. Worthington C. Ford, et al. (Washington, D.C, 1904-37), 2:89.

[4] Harry Schenawolf, “Daniel Morgan: Incredible Fighter – His Brilliance Saved the American Revolution in its Darkest Hour,” Revolutionary War Journal, 20 June 2019; digital image, revolutionarywarjournal.com (https://www.revolutionarywarjournal.com/general-daniel-morgan-incredible-fighter-his-brilliance-saved-the-american-revolution-in-its-darkest-hour/#more-6066 : accessed 27 April 2021). James Graham, The Life of General Daniel Morgan of the Virginia Line of the Army of the United States, with Portions of His Correspondence (New York: Derby & Jackson, 1856), 116-117; digital images, HathiTrust(https://hdl.handle.net/2027/njp.32101021408867 : accessed 27 April 2021).

[5] Wikipedia, “Gabriel Long,” rev. 00:27, 10 August 2020.

[6] “Riflemen of the Revolution,” American Rifleman (no date); digital image, americanrifleman.org(https://www.americanrifleman.org/Webcontent/pdf/2009-5/200959133346-riflemen_revolution.pdf : accessed 27 April 2021). Neil L. York, “Pennsylvania Rifle: Revolutionary Weapon in A Conventional War?” The Pennsylvania Magazine of History and Biography, vol. 130, no. 3, 1979, pp. 302-324; JSTOR (http://www.jstor.org/stable/20091374 : accessed 26 April 2021).

[7] Scheanwolf, “Rifle Companies in the Continental Army.” York, “Pennsylvania Rifle,” 305.

[8] Ibid

[9] York, “Pennsylvania Rifle,” 304-6.

[10] Patrick H. Hannum, Lt. Col. (Ret’d), USMC, “America’s First Company Commanders,” Infantry Online(https://www.benning.army.mil/infantry/magazine/issues/2013/Oct-Dec/Hannum.html : accessed 27 April 2021).

[11] Harry Scheawolf, “Rifle Companies in the Continental Army – Premier Weapon of the American Revolution,” Revolutionary War Journal, 20 May 2019; digital image, revolutionarywarjournal.com (https://www.revolutionarywarjournal.com/rifles-in-revolutionary-america-premier-weapon-of-the-world-why-did-the-military-still-use-muskets/ : accessed 27 April 2021).

[12] Ibid.

[13] John W. Wright, “The Rifle in the American Revolution,” The American Historical Review, vol. 29, no. 2 (1924), p. 293-99; digital image, JSTOR(www.jstor.org/stable/1838519 : accessed 27 April 2021). York, “Pennsylvania Rifle,” 311. 

[14] York, “Pennsylvania Rifle,” 312.

[15] Ibid, 316.

[16] Andrew John Gallup, “The Equipment of the Virginia Soldier in the American Revolution,” College of William & Mary Dissertations, Theses and Masters Projects, Paper 1539625655 (1991), 53-4, 95 ; digital image, W&M ScholarWorks (https://scholarworks.wm.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=4635&context=etd : accessed 27 April 2021).

[17] York, “Pennsylvania Rifle,” 308.

[18] James Graham, The Life of General Daniel Morgan of the Virginia Line of the Army of the United States, with Portions of His Correspondence (New York: Derby & Jackson, 1856), 120; digital images, HathiTrust (https://hdl.handle.net/2027/njp.32101021408867 : accessed 27 April 2021).

[19] Graham, The Life of Daniel Morgan, 120 [Letter from Richard Peters, Secretary, War Office, to Col. Morgan, 24 February 1777].

[20] “Muster Roll of Capt. Gabriel Long’s Company of the Eleventh Virginia Regiment of Foot Commanded by Col. Daniel Morgan, Camp Moan Bound Brook May 16th 1777,” for William Loyd, Private; digital image, Ancestry.com, “U.S. Revolutionary War Rolls, 1775-1783” (http://www.ancestry.com : accessed 10 May 2021); original data, “Revolutionary War Rolls, 1775-1783, National Archives microfilm publication M246, roll [not noted]. 

[21] Scheawolf, “Daniel Morgan.” Graham, The Life of General Daniel Morgan, 127-28.

[22] Graham, The Life of General Daniel Morgan, 144.

[23] Hyperbole or no, I hope William enjoyed the reputation of his regiment. Graham, The Life of General Daniel Morgan, 141-42.

[24] Ibid, 24. Wikipedia, “Battles of Saratoga,” rev. 07:35, 26 February 2021.

[25] Graham, The Life of General Daniel Morgan, 172.

[26] Ibid, 180.

[27] “Overview of History and Significance: Encampment,” History & Culture, Valley Forge National Historical Park, National Park Service (https://www.nps.gov/vafo/learn/historyculture/valley-forge-history-and-significance.htm : accessed 28 April 2021).

[28] The Muster Roll Project, Valley Forge Legacy, ValleyForgeMusterRoll.org, (http://valleyforgemusterroll.org/muster.asp : accessed 27 April 2021), Muster Roll information for Private William Lloyd.

[29] Graham, The Life of General Daniel Morgan, 187. Wikipedia, “Radnor Friends Meetinghouse,” rev. 11:30, 30 March 2021.

[30] Wikipedia, “Battle of Monmouth,” rev. 16:25, 19 April 2021.

[31] Ibid.

[32] “Fort Sullivan, Tioga Point, Athens Pennsylvania,” Historical Echoes of Chemung, NY (https://historicalechoes.weebly.com/fort-sullivan-tioga-point-athens-pa.html : accessed 29 April 2021).

[33] Although truth be told, I am such a Revolutionary War geek that I think every battle was famous!

[34] George Washington, George Washington Papers, Series 3, Varick Transcripts, 1775 to 1785, Subseries 3G, General Orders, 1775 to 1783, p. 378, 9 December 1777; digital images, Library of Congress, image 318 of 355 (https://www.loc.gov/resource/mgw3g.002/?sp=318 : accessed 27 April 2021).

“Morgan’s Rifleman. South” engraving by Alonzo Chappel, 1880.

Genealogy Angels

“Back in the day,” researching your family tree meant writing to courthouses and state health departments, visiting local libraries to read through city directories and the local paper, and traveling far and wide to cemeteries, churches, and the like. These days, the internet make genealogy so much easier. Want to see the civil registration of birth records from Cenadi, Catanzaro, Calabria, Italy (the ancestral home of the Gimigliano family)? Get a free account from Family Search (www.familysearch.org) and you can print out all the records you want from 1809 to 1910. All pretty terrific. Especially during this pandemic, arm-chair research is cheap and relatively easy. Unfortunately, what you miss out on is the human connection and those “Genealogy Angels” that can make your family research more meaningful and fun.

Here are a couple of little stories about those blessed angels.

Several years ago, I was working on a project for a genealogy class I was taking. I drove a couple of hours out to the Neosho County, Kansas courthouse in Chanute. My target was the Registrar of Deeds office where I located deeds for the farms bought by George Washington Baty (my husband’s second great-grandfather) in 1875 and 1883. I spent the bulk of the morning compiling a list of the documents I wanted and at lunch I gave the list to the office assistant who was responsible for making my copies ($1.50 a page). After lunch, this lovely woman not only had my copies, but also a map of the Earlton cemetery where George and many other family members were buried. What a sweet thing to do! She explained that as she made my copies, she recognized the Baty name from the cemetery where she was a volunteer. A “Genealogy Angel” (in multiple ways) in my midst.

Here’s another one. Several years ago, my sister-in-law’s parents were traveling to Moliterno, a small town in Potenza, Basilicata, Italy and the ancestral home of the Bloise family. They went to the town library where the librarian took a great interest their family research. This lovely woman was so intrigued that she contacted the mayor for permission to open the town archives. The next night she presented Hank and Shirley with his grandfather’s birth certificate! “Italiana Genealogia Angelo.”

My last story was told to me by an old friend who was researching her Kesnar/Kesner ancestors in the Netherlands. She had emailed an official in Amsterdam looking for information. The official not only provided her with what she was looking for, but asked if he could share her email address with another Kesnar/Kesner researcher? Of course, she said “yes.” This other researcher turned out to be a distant cousin who helped her fill out the Kesnar branches of her family tree. Not only that, she and Sjef became good friends, visiting each other homes and sharing many good times until his untimely passing in 2007. All due to a Dutch “Genealogie Engel.” 

Yes, the internet can make your family research MUCH easier. But I hope we never lose that angel-human touch.   

Not a Genealogy Angel, but an angel nonetheless.

I Love Newspapers

I usually get a bit of a rush when I find an ancestor’s name in a newspaper. Not so much this week.

One of my pandemic projects has been to do a deep-dive into Kansas newspapers for any mention of the McCormick and Baty families. My husband’s second great-grandfathers, George Washington Baty and Richard Dillon McCormick and their families settled in Kansas in 1875 and many of their children and grandchildren raised their families in Labette County, Kansas. As a consequence, many of them regularly showed up in the local papers. And when I say “regularly,” I really mean “excessively.”

As the pandemic winds down (fingers-crossed) I have finally given more attention to this project. My initial search for just “Baty” in Newspapers.com, focusing only on the five newspapers in Parsons, Kansas and the time-frame of 1872 to 1941 resulted in 2,199 hits![1] Yikes! A few of those were just poor OCR translations (i.e. “baby” for “Baty”) and there was another Baty family in the area.[2] However, I would estimate more than 50% were related to Bruce’s family. Yikes again! 

Here’s why the newspapers wrote about them:

·      O.P. Baty (George’s son) worked for the railroad which had its own column in the papers, ran for mayor (twice) and the board of education (he did not win any of those races), ran his own construction business for a while, belonged to the Independent Order of Odd Fellows (where his wife, Louisa, belonged to the woman’s auxiliary, the Sunflower Rebekah lodge).

·      Lee Baty (my husband’s grandfather) was a star athlete (football, baseball, and basketball) in high school, also worked for the railroad where he was the union president for the railroad clerks, played baseball after high school for local teams, which he also managed (including the Knights of Columbus “Casey” team), and bowled in the local league. 

·      Kathryn McCormick Baty was a member of the K of C’s women’s auxiliary, the Daughters of Isabella and a member of the Philomathic Club.[3] Her aunt, Ellen Quinlan, was a famous manufacturer of women’s dresses and Kate was her local sales person. 

·      Many of the Baty and McCormick children and grandchildren married locals and each of their engagements, marriages, and children’s births necessitated multiple articles.

·      All property transfers in the county were reported.

·      Every time any of them had a visitor or went to visit anyone, even if just for a day, the newspaper reported on it. Vacations usually merited multiple columns (reporting on their departure, the return home, and sometimes mention of their vacation activities). 

·      Graduations and other academic achievements were reported in detail.[4]

·      Baty and McCormick grandchildren were in numerous plays, musicals, reviews, and other performances.

·      Most birthday parties were reported and the list of attendees and sometimes even gifts were generally noted.

·      Every serious illness or death of every family member, even if they never lived in Parsons, required at least two or three columns.

In my last post I complained about not knowing the “real” life of my subjects. I know I should be grateful for all of these articles but the vast number of them is a tad overwhelming. While separating the wheat from the chaff will be difficult, the reward will be a more complete picture of life in Parsons. 

[1] For this project, I decided to focus initially on Parsons, the largest city in Labette County where most of the Batys and McCormicks lived. 

[2] Who I just know is related, but I haven’t been able to make the connection yet.

[3] Her marriage to Lee Baty in 1918 brought these two families together, but since both families had lived in the area for over forty-years, the families may have frequently interacted before then.

[4] For instance, a front-page story in the Parsons Independent in April of 1905, noted that Ellen Quinlan completed her shorthand course and was moving to Kansas City to work at a position secured for her by the Remington Typewriter Company. "Miss Nellie Quinlan," The Parsons (Kansas) Independent, 28 April 1905, p. 1, col. 4.

Kathryn Ann McCormick engagement photo.

The Name’s the Same

One of the biggest problem newbie genealogists have (including myself back in the day) is when you find a record you think is for your ancestor. And I mean any record. Wow! What a find! The same girl! Naturally, you attach it to your tree without reading the details of the record. Later you find out that she can’t be your ancestor because this girl was born six-years after her supposed mother died. Oops. While this sounds obvious, it happens. All. The. Time. You let your excitement get the better of you and away you go. 

Not to name names, but a fellow family researcher was ever so excited to find a baptismal record for an ancestor in Ireland: the last name was the same; Mom and Dad’s names were the same; and, the date was about right. It had to be him!

 It gave me absolutely no pleasure to debunk this theory.[1] We hadn’t been able to find his baptismal record in the U.S. so why couldn’t this be right? The first thing that got my “Spidey-Sense” tingling was that his parents were living in Massachusetts before he was born. Under this theory, they would have initially immigrated to the U.S. some years before, married, travelled to Ireland to give birth to their first child and then came back to the U.S. for the rest of their lives? While not totally out of the question, it was extremely unlikely. But. But. But. The names are the same! A further investigation of Mom and Dad on that baptismal record showed that this couple continued to live in Ireland after the birth of that child and definitely could not be our ancestor.

Insert sad-face.

Eventually, you learn to spot this mistake but only by taking a close look at the record and other records in the set, and understanding how it fits or doesn’t into your family.[2] While we still haven’t found that baptismal record, we know which one it’s not.

So, imagine my surprise when I find an ancestor in my husband’s side of our tree named “Celia Ann Baty”: my husband’s great-grandaunt. “Name’s the same” for reals.

Celia was the second of George Washington and Mary Elizabeth (Elliott) Baty’s nine children, born 14 October 1849 in Elliottstown, Illinois.[3] Just shy of her sixteenth birthday, she married her second cousin (once-removed) James Eli Sloane.[4] Born in Greene County, Indiana in 1845, James and his family lived in South Muddy, Illinois by 1860.[5]  James’ father was a physician and the family moved to Elliottstown around 1862. Celia and her mother both gave birth in 1866: Celia to first child and her mother to her last.

Tracing the family through census records, city directories, and vital records shows they bounced around a bit after they were married.[6] By 1878, they were in Texas but five-years later they were living in Arkansas. By 1885, the family had relocated to Parsons, Kansas where Celia’s brother O.P and his family had moved to the year prior. Her parents and a grandmother had moved to Kansas, six-years earlier and were living in Chanute, about thirty miles away. Less than five years later, James and Celia moved the family to Kansas City where they lived until their deaths in 1926 and 1942, respectively. I’m guessing life in a rural community did not suit James and/or Celia.

When the family first moved to Kansas City, James worked a carpenter, as he had been in Parsons. By 1905, sixty-year-old James switched occupation to “Dry Goods” and owned/operated his own store until his retirement in 1918. A “dry goods” store was essentially a smaller version of a standard department store (i.e. everything except groceries). The business moved locations a couple of times during its first four years until they moved to 3905 Woodland in 1910. The family both lived at this address and ran the business there. James must have been fairly successful because by 1914 the family’s residence moved into a house next door to the shop. 

Sadly, the buildings James and Celia lived and worked in no longer exist, but the Sanborn Fire Insurance Map of 1909 shows both buildings.[7] If you look on the upper left of the map posted below, the second street down is Woodland. James’ store was the third-from-the-left pink colored building (Lot 67, street no. 3905) and the house they lived in was the yellow building at 3907 (Lot 66). 

The key to the Sanborn map tells us that the store was a one-story sixteen-foot tall “brick building with metal cornice” and composition roof. The back of the store (shaded in yellow) indicates this part was a frame building and you can see that the door opening between the two structures is noted. I am surmising this was where they lived before they moved next door. The gray shown on this part of the building indicates it had iron cladding. The “D” on the 3907 building just to the right indicates it was a “dwelling.” It was a frame building with a shingle roof. 

Celia and James’ six children stayed with them throughout their moves although their son James may well have moved to Kansas City a couple of years before his parents. All of them married in Kansas City and settled there with their spouses. When James died in 1926, their daughter Myrtle had been divorced from her first husband and was likely living with them. In 1930, Celia was still living at 3907 Woodland with son George and said Myrtle. By 1940, she was still at 3907 Woodland with Myrtle, but Myrtle was identified as the head of the house instead of her mother. Myrtle had married again in 1936, but her second husband passed away in January 1940.

As much as I love genealogy, all this information doesn’t tell me what I’d really like to know about the Sloane family: Were they happy? Did they have joy? Did they have a dog?[8] If you are reading this and your parents or grandparent (or any family members in those generations), do yourself a favor and record an interview or two (or three) with them. You won’t be sorry.

[1] Mostly because I know of my own past guilt and certain future infractions.

[2] Notice I said “spot” and not “avoid.” Embarrassingly, I still get caught, but usually not for too long.

[3] Named after her grandfather, Smith Elliott.

[4] Celia’s great-great-grandparents, John and Margaret (Pearl) Field were James’ great-grandparents.

[5] Not to be confused with North Muddy.

[6] Have I ever mentioned how much I love city directories? I know others have written about them, but I may have to devote a whole blog to them some day. 

[7] Sanborn maps are such great resources and are freely available at the Library of Congress. Sanborn Map Company, Sanborn Fire Insurance Map from Kansas City, Jackson, Clay, And Platte Counties, Missouri, (New York: Sanborn Map Co., 1909) Vol. 4, sheet 537; digital image, Library of Congress (https://www.loc.gov/resource/g4164km.g4164km_g04720190904/?sp=88&r=-0.187,0.01,1.393,1.154,0 : accessed 27 February 2021). My lack of citations in the blog today is not an oversight: I thought that if I waited to publish until I got them all, I would never get this out. Hoping I will have the intestinal fortitude to go back some day and add them.

[8] If you have Irish ancestors, you actually can find out if they had a dog. Findmypast.com has 7 million Irish dog license registers with more added all the time. 

Sanborn Map Company, Sanborn Fire Insurance Map from Kansas City, Jackson, Clay, And Platte Counties, Missouri, (New York: Sanborn Map Co., 1909) Vol. 4, sheet 537, digital image, Library of Congress (https://www.loc.gov/resource/g4164km.g4164km_g04720190904/?sp=88&r=-0.187,0.01,1.393,1.154,0 : accessed 27 February 2021).

Favorite Photo

For today’s blog, I’m re-upping a favorite topic and one of Amy Johnson Crowe’s prompts from January.

This picture is of my “graduation” from kindergarten in 1964. The priest in the middle is Rev. Bernard A. Peters, O.S.B., the Rector of St. Joseph’s Catholic Church in Maplewood, New Jersey. I think the nun on the right is Sister Winifred Noon (more on her later). Looking at this photo brings back so many memories – good, bad, and funny. 

St. Joe’s was founded in 1914 when the Catholics living in the “Hilton” section of Maplewood petitioned the Benedictine order to found a parish.[1] They had been going to mass at St. Leo’s in nearby Irvington. My grandmother, who was born and raised in Hilton, was baptized at St. Leo’s in 1883 and was married there in June of 1915. A two-story home served as chapel and rectory for St. Joe’s until 1922 when the current parish hall was erected. The school was built in 1930.[2]

In 1962-63, kindergarten classes where held in these little white buildings across the parking lot from the main school building. I think it was a half-day program. During our years there, my siblings and I walked home for lunch since we lived only 4-5 blocks away. I remember when I was older that I REALLY wanted to eat my lunch at school and Mom let me do it one time. It was a horrific experience: loud, hot, and crowded in the basement of the school. That one time cured me of ever wanting to do that again. 

This great picture shows a lot of children whose names I have long forgotten, but several precious friends. To Father Bernard’s left are twins Mary Jane and Betty Ann Zegarski. I am just to their left (with the straw for hair). Mary Jane and Betty Ann were just the sweetest girls and I was always next to them since we were the tallest and the line-ups were always by height. Mary Jane had cerebral palsy and was regularly picked on by the other kids. I distinctly recall the first day of kindergarten when Mary Jane had an unfortunate accident and the class was not kind to her. I left St. Joe’s after third-grade (more on that later), but attended junior high and high school with Mary Jane and Betty Ann. Sadly, I think Mary Jane passed away at too young an age.

Speaking of height, while Mary Jane, Betty Ann and I were the tallest, Carol Kelleher was the shortest. In the picture, I think she is the girl closest to Father Bernard’s right on the lowest row. Carol had like nine siblings and when we kids would act-up (which was literally all the time), my mom used to ask (yell?) how come we couldn’t behave like the ten Kelleher kids. The Kellehers didn’t live near us so I suppose my folks saw them at Mass each Sunday and must have marveled at their good conduct (did I mention that we were terrible?). They were to be our role-models, but it never stuck.[3] We behaved so badly at Mass that my mom used to make us kneel silently for an hour after we got home from church as punishment. It tickles me that one of our favorite games to play was “communion.” My oldest brother would be the priest and dole out Necco Wafers as the host. My favorite was the chocolate. If candy was provided at the actual Mass, we would have behaved? Not a chance.

The girl standing on the top row just to Father Bernard’s right is my friend Maureen (Conlon) Zusi. Maureen’s family lived right behind us on Yale Street.[4] Maureen and I attended junior high together, but not high school. Because we were neighbors and attended the same church, we stayed good friends. Her dad used to have separate whistles for each of the kids to call them home (kind of like Baron Von Trapp). I can pretty much duplicate Maureen’s call.

As I mentioned, Sister Winifred Noon was the principal of the school. We were all scared of her and holy-moly she is still alive, having just celebrated her 100th birthday in September![5] On the first day of first-grade we all introduced ourselves in class as one does on the first day and Sister Winifred asked me if my brothers were Jay and Steve. When I answered “yes,” she rapped me (hard) on the knuckles with a ruler to warn me not to behave the way they did. SMH

One of my closest and longest friendships was with Colleen (Brenner) LaScala. She is the little girl in the middle row to Father Bernard’s right. Colleen and her family lived on Oberlin Street and we met in 1960 when we were three. The story is that we saw each other from across the street and wanted to play together. Over the many years that we lived in Maplewood, her house became a refuge for me, her parents like my own, and her sisters like my sisters. 

Despite the good reputation Catholic schools have, the experience wasn’t that great for my family. When I was in the third-grade, the school could not keep a teacher in my class. We had multiple substitutes, part-time teachers, and sometimes eighth-grade boys as our teachers. At that time, the public-school system in our town was recognized as one of the top in the country, so my parents decided to pull the youngest of us out of St. Joseph’s and send us to public school (my parents kept my oldest brother there as he was doing well). My mother met with Father Bernard to explain this decision and he so kindly told her that she would “burn in hell” for doing this. No, really, he said that. SMDH

In 2010, St. Joseph’s school closed its doors.[6] After eighty years, the student population had dropped to an unsustainable level. The expected enrollment for the 2010-11 school year was projected at only 140 students in kindergarten through eighth grade after having reached a high of 310 students only ten years earlier. Four other schools in the Newark Catholic Diocese also closed in 2010.[7]

I am happy to report that St. Joe’s today seems to be a progressive church. Its Open Doors group welcomes LGBTQ Catholics and it is a vocal supporter of the Black Lives Matter movement.[8] The church’s Workers4Justice group feels “that Catholic silence in the face of racial injustice [is] no longer an option.”[9] Their slogan is “Catholic silence is violence.” Yup.

[1] “St. Joseph’s, Maplewood, To Mark 50th Anniversary,” The (Catholic) Advocate, 9 April 1964, p. 16. I remember my friend Colleen’s mother used to read The Advocate and she could not go to any movie that they found to be “morally objectionable.” In this issue of The Advocate, they found the following movies “morally objectionable in part for everyone”: Some Like it Hot, Where the Boys Are? and From Russia with Love. LOL

[2] Ibid.

[3] Carol’s mother passed away when we were still in grade or high school and her dad married a woman with twelve children. Yikes.

[4] Growing up in Maplewood, I lived on Harvard Avenue and Bowdoin Street in an area where all the streets were named for colleges or universities. We also had Rutgers, Colgate, and Wellesley.

[5] “News and Events: A Century of Serving God,” Benedictine Sisters, Elizabeth, New Jersey, St. Walburga Monastery (https://www.bensisnj.org/news-and-events : accessed 3 February 2021). 

[6] Richard Khavkine, “Maplewood’s St. Joseph school to close after all,” NJ.com, 23 June 2010 (https://www.nj.com/news/local/2010/06/maplewoods_st_joseph_school_to.html : accessed 3 February 2021).

[7] Ibid.

[8] “At St. Joe’s in Maplewood, Catholic Parishioners ‘Affirm Black Lives Matter,’” The Village Green, 7 August 2020 (https://villagegreennj.com/community/at-st-joes-in-maplewood-catholic-parishioners-affirm-black-lives-matter/ : accessed 3 February 2021). 

[9] Workers4Justice Ministry, “St. Joseph’s Workers4Justice Affirm that Black Lives Matter,” St. Joseph’s Church, 5 August 2020 (https://www.sjcmaplewoodnj.org/catholic-call-to-antiracism-work.html?fbclid=IwAR1LD-_YQA9I8kLF8aijeTbjDDo6Y0oBxHwcbtK5U-Zyz12n__JgZKnTTOc : accessed 3 February 2021).

Dean Everett Thompson (1928-2019)

A short post to remember my friend Dean who died two years ago today. He was almost ninety-years old.

 I got to know Dean about five or six years ago. As a retiree, he spent his mornings at the Starbucks on Antioch in Overland Park, Kansas. I first met him when standing in line for coffee and I helped him figure out his new iPhone. Gradually, we became friends and I had coffee with him most weekday mornings. We called his crew of admirers the FoD – Friends of Dean. Through Dean, a disparate group of people with a love for coffee got to know and care for each other and we remained close until the pandemic shut down Starbucks indoor seating.

 Dean and his twin brother Gene were born in Claypool, Indiana on 12 July 1928. He worked for Amoco Corporation (now British Petroleum) for thirty-two years and his fervent wish was that he be retired as long as he had worked (he almost made it). Through his work with Amoco, Dean traveled the world and the stories he told were endlessly fascinating. How he came to settle in Overland Park for his retirement isn’t entirely clear to me, although I suspect love had something to do of it.

 Dean was quite the collector of modern art and bestowed many pieces to the Nerman Museum of Contemporary Art at Johnson County Community College. In his advanced age, he became an artist when his friend Susan taught him how to die silk scarves. I am the proud owner of a beautiful Dean original.

 While we disagreed on politics,[1] Dean and I spent many a morning talking about life and love – sometimes laughing and sometimes crying. He adored his late brother and was especially close to his father. For his birthday one year, we had a party at Starbucks and I presented him with a family history I had done for him. While there are a lot of pictures of Dean, his friends, and some of his ancestors on the website for the Johnson County Chapel where he is interred, the one I’ve chosen is how I remember him best – in his hat (which he wore 365 days a year) and puffy coat.

 Miss you Dean.

[1] Sadly, he was a Fox “News” devotee and it corrupted his brain. I remember him telling me that there was no way Bill O’Reilly would ever be fired. LOL

Free speech and the First Amendment

I saw the meme posted below on the Facebook page of White Republican friend. This quote comes from Douglass’ famous 1860 speech, “A Plea for Free Speech in Boston.” Douglass was prompted to make this speech after the mayor of Boston cancelled a meeting scheduled the week before to discuss the abolition of slavery. A mob had broken up the meeting and many thought it “ill-timed.”[1]

What was the message she was sending? I assume it had to do with the fact that the former president is no longer on Twitter, Instagram, or Facebook. My friend is a college-educated woman and surely she knows that the First Amendment doesn’t apply to private social media companies. So, what gives?

What immediately stuck me was the use Douglass to support her argument. No doubt Douglass was an American hero, amazing intellectual, and noted orator and writer. The quote is great, but he was not known as a Constitutional scholar.[2] Other scholars in American history were more versed in the First Amendment, including some of the Founding Fathers, so why Douglass?

….

Oh, wait. 

Could it be related to the color of his skin?

I’m pretty sure my friend didn’t make this up on her own. It likely came across her feed, she agreed with it and reposted. Did she realize what she was doing by using Douglass in this way? Probably. “Look, I am so enlightened that I am quoting a Black man.” “Look, this Black man agrees with me about how badly my former president is being treated.” 

Why does this bother me? After all, Douglass is an American hero and he was making an excellent point. But to use him to support that racist pos former president is beyond the pale. 

Back in 2017 when T***p said that stupid thing about how Douglass was being “recognized, more and more,” implying he was still alive, the Douglass family issued a list of things that Frederick Douglass had done an “amazing job” at:

• Enduring the inhumanity of slavery after being born heir to anguish and exploitation but still managing to become a force for solace and liberty when America needed it most,

• Recognizing that knowledge was his pathway to freedom at such a tender age,

• Teaching himself to read and write and becoming one of the country’s most eloquent spokespersons,

• Standing up to his overseer to say that ‘I am a man!’

• Risking life and limb by escaping the abhorrent institution,

• Composing the Narrative of his life and helping to expose slavery for the crime against humankind that it is,

• Persuading the American public and Abraham Lincoln that we are all equal and deserving of the right to live free,

• Establishing the North Star newspaper when there was very little in the way of navigation or hope for the millions of enslaved persons,

• Supporting the rights of women when few men of such importance endeavored to do so,

• Arguing against unfair U.S. immigration restrictions,

• Understanding that racism in America is part of our ‘diseased imagination,’

• Recruiting his sons — who were born free — to fight in the war to end the enslavement of other African Americans,

• Being appointed the first black U.S. Marshal by President Rutherford B. Hayes,

• Being appointed U.S. Minister to Haiti by President Benjamin Harrison,

• Serving as a compelling role model for all Americans for nearly two centuries.[3]

One has to wonder if those using Frederick Douglass to support the former president would agree with him on these issues also.

[1] Douglass, Frederick. "A Plea for Free Speech in Boston." In Civil Rights in America. American Journey. Woodbridge, CT: Primary Source Media, 1999. Gale In Context: U.S. History (accessed 25 January 2021). https://link.gale.com/apps/doc/EJ2163000022/UHIC?u=mlin_n_tewkshs&sid=UHIC&xid=6dbcac36.

[2] Wikipedia.org, “Frederick Douglas,” rev. 23:47, 18 January 2021.

[3] Robert J. Benz, “More and More About Frederick Douglass,” Huffpost.com, https://www.huffpost.com/entry/more-and-more-about-frederick-douglass_b_5892855fe4b01a7d8e512b13 (1 February 2017)