The Ferverda Bible – 52 Ancestors #186

Posted on March 6, 2018 by Roberta Estes

Hiram B. (probably Bauke, “Baker” in English) Ferverda (1854-1925) married Evaline Louise Miller (1857-1939) on March 10, 1876 in Goshen. Indiana. At least, that’s where their marriage license was filed.

Beyond that, and knowing that they were both Brethren, until 2010, we knew absolutely nothing more about their wedding, except that Brethren weddings, like Brethren anything, tended to be very humble and austere. No color, no decorations, and maybe even no ceremony at all. Just you, your parents perhaps, the minister, a couple of required witnesses (dang those manmade laws anyway) and the Lord.

In October 2010, my cousin, Cheryl, arranged to have a family reunion in a church in northern Indiana, not far from where the Ferverda and Miller families lived. Cheryl’s father was Roscoe Ferverda, brother to my grandfather, John Whitney Ferverda.

I was looking forward the reunion because I had never met any Ferverda cousins except for Cheryl, her sons and her brother Don. My mother had moved away from the area as a young adult.

Upon arrival at the church that beautiful fall day, Cheryl said, rather nonchalantly, that she hoped that the person with the Ferverda Bible attended.

“WHAT FERVERDA BIBLE????????”

Had Cheryl been holding out on me?

No, Cheryl said, when she called some of the distant cousins to invite them, someone mentioned that someone had a family Bible.

Notice the number of “someones” in that sentence. I had been down this road before on other family lines. If in fact “someone” did have a Bible, it almost was never the right family line. It was almost always someone’s wife’s second cousin’s half sister’s Bible that was purchased at an estate sale.

Never, almost never, my line.

So when I heard Cheryl’s comment, I didn’t have much hope and went back to covering tables with white plastic lace covers and placing edible center pieces. This was, after all, the “sweet-tooth” Ferverda family, and “edible” is important.

People began arriving and chattering. I felt rather like a stranger in my own family, because while everyone else greeted people they recognized, I knew absolutely no one.

I introduced myself and told people who I was. Everyone was kind and cordial, but there was no spark of even remote recognition.

After all, it was 2010 and my mother had died 4 years earlier and moved away some 70 years before that.

Nonetheless, people brought photos with them and told stories, and we had a wonderful time eating and (no drinking) and sharing family stories. The Ferverda family certainly doesn’t lack in that capacity, either eating or storytelling. They may have been Brethren, but they were neither dead nor boring. In fact, they weren’t always terribly compliant, it turns out.

About half way through the reunion, I asked Cheryl who was supposed to bring the Bible. She found the person, and asked if they had remembered.

“Oh,” they said, “I forgot. Would you like me to run home and get it?”

“Well, no, you don’t need to do that…” Cheryl began, “but I quickly interrupted her with, “Oh, would you please?????”

The gentleman was perfectly willing, and off he went, returning a few minutes later with said Bible in hand. It was far more beautiful than I had expected. Given their Brethren faith, I was prepared for plain black and no decoration except for the words, “Holy Bible” in small gold letters. That’s certainly not what appeared.

Let me share with you the way we the story unfold that day. Cheryl and I, sitting side by side at the table after clearing the plates, on a beautiful fall day in Indiana, not far from where Hiram and Eva lived their entire lives, opened the cover and began turning the pages, one by one.

Hiram and Eva were Cheryl’s grandparents and my great-grandparents.

I’d wager Hiram and Eva were never more than an hour or so from home, maybe 2 hours on a long trip. Transportation was by horse and buggy.

Look at that beautiful leather tooling. Cheryl opened the cover of the Bible, not knowing what to expect.

Opening their Bible transported me to another time and place. But, was it actually their Bible? We held our breath!

Glory be! It IS! How did we never know this Bible existed?

What a lovely gift from Hiram to his wife. I surely wish he, or she had added a date. Was this gift for a birthday, Easter, Christmas perhaps? Is this his writing, or hers? Looking at the shape of the letters, in particular, after 1925 when he died, I believe that this is Eva’s writing, not Hiram’s.

Genealogists always look for the Bible’s copyright date because you know the Bible wasn’t in use before that date.

This page is interesting, because we always thought her name was Evaline Louise Miller. Imagine that…all these years we’ve all had ner name backwards!

This writing is clearly Eva’s, based on the shape of the Ms, compared to the entries after Hiram died.

Furthermore, they were married at 6 in the evening. Their witnesses were Mrs. Bigler and Miss Bigler, and the minister was Reverend Bigler of Goshen, Indiana.

According to the History of the Church of the Brethren in Indiana, there were two early churches, one called Union Center (which is where Hiram’s father is buried,) and the other in Elkhart, founded in 1830 as the first Brethren Church in Indiana.

The Elkhart church later became known as “West Goshen.” The Bigler name appears in both churches as deacons, but the Goshen Church also shows Andrew Bigler as an elder, serving with Daniel Stutsman who died in 1887. The book indicates that Andrew served as elder during the later years of Elder Stutsman. The Stutzman and Miller families immigrated from Switzerland to Germany together in the 1600s, and then from Germany to Pennsylvania in the 1720s, then on to Maryland before 1750, then to Ohio around 1800 and Indiana about 1830.

It’s very likely that the marrying minister was indeed Andrew Bigler, shown in the 1880 census with his wife Lydia and daughter Elizabeth. The Bigler family had been migrating with this same family group since they were first noted together in 1738 in the Little Conewago Church in Pennsylvania.

The church today probably incorporates the original building.

Eva and Hiram would have traveled about 5 miles from where Eva’s parents lived, together in the buggy. Was it cold that early of March day, or was it a glorious spring day? Where did the newlywed couple go from there? Were they married in the actual church building, or in the pastor’s home?

I do wonder why they were married in this church, because we know that there once stood a church in the cemetery on the land where Eva’s Miller grandparents lived, although her grandfather, David Miller, died in 1851.

Perhaps that church was too small to have a minister licensed to marry. Brethren ministers were generally farmers who preached “on the side.”

We know from the deed of Edward Clark who bought the land where the cemetery now stands from the estate of David Miller that the church existed in 1877 when he executed a deed to “Trustees, German Baptist Church” and stated that when the property was no longer needed for that purpose, that it be turned over to the cemetery trustees. By 1931, the Miller church was no longer in existence.

The next page in the Bible is a record of marriages, apparently overflowed from the marriage page of the Bible. When you have 11 children who all lived to adulthood, there are lots of marriages to record.

Next, we find births.

This Bible was given to Eva in 1895, so either she was pregnant for her 9^th child, or she had an infant, plus children ages 18, 16, 14, 13, 11, 9, 4 and 2. This list makes me wonder what happened between 1886 and 1891. Did Eva have a couple of miscarriages, or did they bury a baby whose birth is not recorded?

Eva would have recopied her children’s births from an earlier Bible, pages probably worn thin and now long gone.

With 11 children, not to mention siblings and their children, Eva probably did a lot of praying.

This page is indeed sad, but all things considered, it’s actually amazing that it’s the shortest page. Although I have noticed that Eva did not record grandchildrens’ information.

I’m glad the deaths page was blank for 30 years, but I can see Eva saddened and tearful, slumped and slowly writing Hiram’s name into the book. Did she pause as she wrote the word, died? Did she sit and recall the day he had given her the Bible, those three decades before? How long after his death did it take until she was able to bring herself to write those words.

Was she with Hiram as he died from a heat stroke. His death certificate says he also had chronic bronchitis, so his end would have been quite difficult, that 3rd of June on a hot Indiana day.

The deaths of two of Eva’s children would follow, before her own.

Irvin, a farmer, died at age 52 of cardio-renal disease, according to his death certificate. He was buried just down the road in the Salem cemetery, probably close to his father.

Donald, a bank cashier, died at age 37 of cancer of the kidney and lung. Two months before his death, surgery had removed his cancerous kidney, but without chemo, there was no chance and it was too late. He too was buried in the Salem Cemetery, beside the Brethren Church.

Finally, in the early fall of 1939, Eva joined her family in the Salem cemetery, succumbing to what would earlier have been called old age. Her death certificate says she died at 82 of acute myocarditis nephritis and hypertension, along with arteriosclerosis. We all have to die of something. I wonder who recorded her death in the Bible, closing that final door after Eva took up residence on the other side.

Eva lived a long and full life. My mother remembers her arriving, in someone else’s car, as she never drove, to take care of her grandchildren when they were ill. Eva had enough grandchildren that she was busy all of the time.

The fact that no further deaths were recorded after Eva herself died confirms that indeed, this was her Bible, and it was probably retired and kept as a keepsake after this. Her children and grandchildren would have wanted her record of life events recorded in this Bible in her own hand for almost 45 years. Nearly half a century.

Eva recorded the deaths of her parents, John David Miller and Margaret Elizabeth Lentz here as well. I’m sure she visited their graves often in the little cemetery where her grandfather’s church used to be. This also tells us that her mother’s middle name was Elizabeth, another tidbit we never knew.

What Eva didn’t tell us is that her mother was also married to Valentine Whitehead who died before Margaret Elizabeth Lentz Whitehead married John David Miller almost 5 years later, on March 30, 1856 and had 3 more children.

Half-Siblings

Next, we find a paper enclosed in the Bible noted as “Mother’s half sisters.”

What? One of Grandpa Miller’s sons was in the Civil War? Say what? A Brethren man fighting in the Civil War?

Ok, who is whom where? Mother Miller would be Eva, so Grandpa Miller was John David Miller, and his sons by his second wife were born in 1859 and 1862, so it’s clearly not them in the Civil War. John David Miller’s sons by his first wife, Mary Baker who were old enough to serve were:

John N. Miller, in the cemetery, but not in the 1850 or 1860 census
Samuel Miller in the cemetery, but not in the 1850 or 1860 census)
David B. Miller born in 1838 and died in 1922 (probably not him because nothing is stated about him serving in the Civil War the local history) age 12 in the 1850 census, was clearly Brethren
Aaron B. Miller born in 1843 and died in 1923 (Chicago, Illinois), age 7 in the 1850 census, 18 in 1860 census, moved to Chicago later in life

No Millers by these names are shown as having enlisted in Elkhart County.

I’m unable to find any record of either David or Aaron serving in the Civil War. That doesn’t mean they didn’t serve. It only means I can’t find the record. Perhaps as pensions are eventually scanned, indexed and brought online through the National Archives, this mystery will be solved.

That said, I can only imagine the dissention a son serving in the Civil War would have sewn among the family and the Brethren church family as well. Perhaps this is a clue as to why Eva and Hiram were married in the Elkhart church instead of Union Center church.

A Secret Family Tragedy

The family had another secret, however. A hint was found in Ira Ferverda’s obituary, obviously tucked into the Bible after his death in 1950.

It’s interesting that Ira wasn’t Brethren. Of Eva’s children, I know John was Methodist and I don’t think Roscoe was Brethren either.

Ira’s obituary states that he had been ill for 20 years and died in an institution, not at home. Why would that be?

Well, this is a bit delicate.

I wonder if the family knew why Ira was ill. Death certificates are now online, and Ira’s reveals what I suspect was a family secret. Ira died of gangrene of the left foot…caused by untreated syphilis. Obviously, this document wasn’t found in the Bible.

Neurosyphilis is an infection of the brain or spinal cord caused by the spirochete Treponema pallidum. It usually occurs in people who have had chronic, untreated syphilis, usually about 10 to 20 years after first infection and develops in about 25%–40% of persons who are not treated. Syphilis can be dormant for 10-20 years. Given that Ira married in June of 1904, it was either dormant at that time, or he hadn’t yet contracted the disease.

My suspicion is that Ira probably contracted the disease while serving in the Philippines during Spanish American War where he rescued General John Pershing from drowning, according to newspaper accounts. Ira was subsequently promoted to the rank of quarter-master-sergeant by Pershing, but his military career ended in March 1904 after he suffered a broken leg. Ira enlisted in the Spanish American War in March of 1901 and didn’t die until 1950.

If that’s when Ira contracted the disease, he lived with syphilis for half a century, and miserably, I’m sure. Ira married in June 1904, three months after he was discharged from the service, and by 1910, had moved with his wife and 3 year old child to Wyoming.

However, by 1918, Ira and family were back in Kosciusko County where be both signed up for the draft and filed for an invalid pension based on his prior service.

In 1920, a child born to Ira and his wife died of toxemia a few hours after birth as a result of “Bright’s disease of the mother.” Bright’s disease was a polite name used in some earlier records for syphilis. By 1920, according to the census, Ira was a salesman selling “home products” and in 1930, had a chicken hatchery.

I can’t find the family in the 1940 census, but in 1938, the Lafayette Courier reports in an article that Mr. and Mrs. Ferverda were among 5 persons from the “Soldiers Home” that were injured in an automobile accident. In 1940, “Mrs. Ira Ferverda received word that her brother died suddenly and she has gone to Leesburg,” followed in 1944 by an article indicating that Mr. and Mrs. Ira Ferverda were on furlough. In 1945, the same newspaper reported that they had gone home to Leesburg for the summer. Of course, Ira died in 1950 and the death certificate gave his wife’s address as Leesburg. For all the world, it looks like both Ira and his wife were resident at the “camp” at the Soldier’s and Sailor’s Home in Lafayette for many years.

Ira’s wife’s death in 1972 at age 89 indicates that she had chronic nephritis, an inflammation of the kidneys, but says nothing about syphilis. Perhaps she was treated after the introduction of penicillin in the 1930s, but Ira was not. Or perhaps his disease had progressed too far by that time.

Eva may or may not have known that her son had contracted syphilis. Given the death of Ira’s daughter in 1920, I’m guessing that Eva knew something, or perhaps the cause of his illness and the cause of the child’s death was carefully hidden from her.

Regardless, I’m sure Ira, along with the rest of the family, had many regrets and a great deal of shame, pain and sorrow. Today, I have only compassion for Ira and this family, no shame necessary. People are human, after all. Ira paid a terribly dear price for his humanness.

It’s amazing the history that this detour caused by an interesting sentence in an obituary revealed.

Pictures in the Bible

Next, Cheryl and I find photographs tucked safely into the Bible pages.

Thank goodness there’s a name on the back!

Robert Dean Ferverda, son of Gerald Dean Ferverda (Ira’s son born in 1907) and Dorothy E. Lloyd was born on April 6, 1932. Love these first baby pictures.

The next photo of Eva at left is both charming and mystifying.

Imagine my disappointment to turn this photo over and discover….nothing. I suspect, but don’t know, that this was Eva’s sister. Two of her half-sisters lived into the 1930s. Matilda “Tillie” Miller married John Dubbs and died in 1939, just a few months before Eva. Martha Jane Miller married David Blough and died in 1935. Eva’s half sister, Mary Jane Whitehead married John D. Ulery and died in 1930.

I love the wheel to wench the bucket up from the well on this farm, along with what looks like a school bell behind Eva. I do wonder where this was taken. The stone on the ground beside the bell looks like a millstone.

If I could read the city of the photographer, on the back below, I might be able to at least find a hint of who might be in the photo. I bet the photographer never dreamed someone 85 years in the future would be trying to find them!

Below, Eva on the porch of the home in Leesburg, on the farm, with the three crosses in the window indicating three sons serving in WWI. Extremely unusual for a Brethren family.

Eva’s sons who served in WWI were George, Donald and Roscoe. Eva was clearly proud of her sons and their service.

The article in the Fort Wayne paper, above, identifies the 3 Ferverda sons.

This photograph was taken during WWI. One son is in uniform, in the back row. Eva is standing at left, with Hiram behind her. Their children are identified in this photo, but neither their children nor grandchildren are identified in the photo (above) in the Bible, and the spouses are absent as well. My mother’s brother was born in 1915, so he could have been one of the small boys, but I don’t recognize him, and he’s not with my grandfather in the back row, third from right.

Again, nothing on the back of the photo.

There were a few items in the Bible at the reunion that weren’t scanned at the library.

Who is Henry P. Lentz?

Not one person at the reunion had any idea who Henry P. Lentz was, but a little sleuthing tells the story.

Henry P. Lentz died on January 3, 1915 in Adrian, Bates Co., MO. Clearly, Eva’s mother, Elizabeth Lentz Miller had kept in touch with family members, because there would be no other way for this obituary to have been in Eva’s Bible. Henry’s FindAGrave Memorial is here.

Henry’s father was Johann Adam Lentz, born on August 30, 1819 in Cumberland Co., PA and died on August 4, 1906 in Bates County, MO. Adam was Elizabeth Lentz’s brother, so Eva’s uncle. Henry would have been Eva’s first cousin.

According to FindAGrave, Adam married Margaret Whitehead, the sister of Valentine Whitehead. Margaret Elizabeth Lentz’s first husband was Valentine Whitehead, Margaret Whitehead’s brother. Adam Lentz, Margaret Elizabeth Lentz’s brother, migrated with the Whitehead/Miller group to Elkhart County, Indiana. Adam’s wife, Margaret Whitehead, died the following year, probably in the “malarial fevers” outbreak that also killed Elizabeth Miller, David Miller’s wife. Adam Lentz remarried and then migrated to Illinois and on to Missouri, the next frontier.

Mystery solved – and according to FindAGrave, one more piece of information as to where in Pennsylvania Margaret Lentz may have been born.

More Reunion Pictures

Other goodies from the reunion include photos and items that Cheryl and I had never seen before.

Photo of George Miller Ferverda with daughter Peg at the gas station where he worked.

No one had any idea whatsoever who this is and true to form, nothing on the back. The family does not look Brethren. The man has no beard and the woman no prayer bonnet. If you know who this family is, please let me know. I would think they are somehow connected.

Death of Ira’s daughter, Mary Evelyn. I can only imagine the words that passed between Ira and his wife on this terrible day.

Three Ferverda brothers serving in WWI.

Eva in an out-of-focus photo in 1936 with her daughter, Margaret Ferverda Glant.

And with that, we leave the reunion and close Eva’s Bible, with much gratitude to Eva for preserving these memories and those family members who have been stewards of her Bible for the past 79 years.

Eva’s Mitochondrial DNA Legacy

It’s somehow ironic that while we have Eva’s Bible, one single item with no copies, often very difficult to find, we don’t have her mitochondrial DNA, passed by mothers to all of their children, but only passed on my daughters. In order to find Eva’s mitochondrial DNA, we need to look to Eva’s daughters and those of her sister’s on her mother’s side, or, her mother’s sister’s offspring.

Eva’s mother, Margaret Elizabeth Lentz had three sisters:

Mary Lentz (1829-1918) who married Henry Overlease
Fredericka “Fanny” Lentz (1809-1897) who married Daniel Brusman
Maria Barbara Lentz (1816-1899) who married Henry Yost

Eva had only one half-sister by her mother, Margaret Elizabeth Lentz, who had a daughter:

Mary Jane Whitehead (1852-1930) married John D. Ulery and had daughter Margaret Elizabeth Ulery.

Eva had 4 daughters:

Edith Estella Ferverda (1879-1955) who married Tom Dye
Elizabeth Gertrude Ferverda (1884-1966) who married Louis Hartman
Chloe Evaline Ferverda (1886-1984) who married Rolland Robinson
Margaret Ferverda (1902-1984) who married Chester Glant

If you descend from any of these women through all females to the current generation, which can be male or female, I have a free DNA test for you.

Gratitude

I was thrilled to discover that Eva’s Bible still existed, to be allowed to touch it, open and lovingly caress the very pages she turned, garnering the gems of family history she recorded for the future there. We are that future.

A debt of gratitude to the Ferverda family member who allowed this Bible to be borrowed, scanned and repaired.

Thanks to Cheryl Ferverda, now retired from the Allen County Public Library, and the Allen County Public Library for scanning the Bible before returning it to the family.

______________________________________________________________

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Dear Dave: I Found Your Father – 52 Ancestors #184

Posted on February 13, 2018 by Roberta Estes

My Dearest Brother Dave,

It’s been 6 years last week that you left, departed this side, leaving your broken earthly vessel behind.

Six very long years. I thought the sun would never shine again, but somehow you arranged a gloriously sunny day to celebrate your funeral, and today as well. A fitting gift from a long-haul truck driver.

Since you can’t call me anymore as you crisscross the country in your big rig named The Black Pearl, I’ll just have to write to you and hope that the same airwaves that used to bring me your voice now transport my message to you.

You see, I finally found your father, or have at least narrowed the candidates and discovered your surname.

I remember how many years you searched, painfully and fruitlessly. DNA was the key, now that enough people have tested.

In 2004 when I finally found you, you explained how your mother had teased you with the names of at least three different men that were supposedly your father. How you tracked them down and arranged to visit. They were nice, understanding and sympathetic, but they weren’t your father.

I suspect that perhaps your mother didn’t know, considering the circumstances. We won’t revisit that, except to say it saddened me greatly to see you suffer so based on activities you had no part in. Worse yet, she left you an envelope hidden in a drawer with your name on it after her death in which you were positive you would find the answer. You ripped it open, but once again, no answer was forthcoming. A final disappointment. The first of two words that come to mind is heartless.

Our introductory phone call when I explained my understanding of who your father was – my father – which explained why you carry the Estes surname was one of the most emotional days of my life. You were finally found. A hole filled. The gap of almost 50 years gone.

You told me how you opened the envelope I had sent with the photos of “our” father, whom you already knew as a family member, but not as your father. I sent photos because I didn’t want you to think I was some crazy lady, or that my letter was some kind of scam.

You’d discover soon enough my own personal brand of crazy😊

Of course, at that time, I didn’t understand who in that family was actually your biological mother – and what that meant in terms of complex family dynamics. You’re so fortunate that, for the most part, your grandmother raised you, at least reducing your mother’s damage.

A few days after our first phone call, we met for the first time, talking for hours like we had known each other forever. Time and place simply disappeared and we floated on our own wave of giddy happiness. I still have that photo by my desk, with your arm around me. You watch over me every single day, right beside me.

You shared that I was your only living family member, except for your children, and how you had always longed for a sibling.

I knew in that moment what family meant to you, and that if needed, you would die for me. Literally.

I loved you instantly and completely.

I came to know you as a grizzled, hard-driving, long-haired tattooed trucker with a short temper for injustice – to animals or people. God help anyone that abused someone you loved, anyone in need, or an animal.

You told me you never said “the L word,” love. Tough as you were, love would make you vulnerable. Your wife of many years confirmed that to me. I just smiled. Love doesn’t need words.

As I said goodbye the second time, a few weeks later, you hugged me and whispered softly, almost inaudibly in my ear, “Love you, Sis.”

“What?,” I asked and you grumbled, “You heard me,” afraid that someone else would hear. I just smiled and hugged you again, tears running down both our faces. Except, yours were just allergies of course.

You told me every time we talked after that, because as a truck driver, we never really knew when our last conversation would be. Our last words spoken, always, from that day forth, were “love you.” I smiled through tears every time and I suspect you did too.

Danged allergies.

We had already missed so many years.

I still hear that Dave, and I know the next time I meet you, I’ll hear it again.

Damn, I miss you.

I knew before you died that we weren’t half-siblings after all. The original two paternity/siblingship tests we took suggested that, but they weren’t conclusive and needless to say, we certainly didn’t want to believe that message.

Our next clue was when I was eliminated as your liver donor candidate, although the medical team would not confirm why. However, the “new” autosomal DNA tests we took not long before you died proved it beyond any doubt.

I never had the heart to tell you.

It would have broken both of our hearts and we were already indelibly bonded as family. Nothing, no DNA test would ever change that.

Remember that half heart I gave you to protect you on your journeys? You took half of my real one with you when you left.

For the sake of honesty, I tiptoed around the siblingship subject, testing the water. The limited commentary you did make told me that perhaps you already suspected, but were strongly rejecting that possibility out of hand. End of subject.

The truth could wait until the afterlife.

However, I made a vow to you that you never knew about. One day I would identify your father. I would find that puzzle piece.

Now herein lies a great irony, the best irony of all. I have to tell you – you’re going to love this story. Hope you’re sitting down on a cloud.

Your grandmother raised you in the Catholic church and sent you to Catholic school. You left the church in high school, but those childhood teachings have a way of taking hold permanently.

During your last days in the hospital and then in hospice, you requested a priest to do a “Last Confession” and whatever rituals are completed in the Catholic religion to prepare for death.

The hospital called the local priest. Then, hospice called the local priest.

No response, at all.

Then, your wife called the local Catholic churches.

Still no response, at all.

Then I called.

Nothing.

When I saw you that day, I knew the end was very near.

Still no priest to do your Last Rites.

I’m sure you remember that Jim, my husband, a former Eucharistic minister in the Catholic church before he sinned by getting divorced and continued sinning by remarrying to a non-Catholic heard your last confession. He performed the anointing of oil, (my chapstick) and holy water, (bottled water from my purse,) both of which I blessed with my very own hands. HERESY!

Jim was horrified and was just certain I was going to be struck dead by lightning on the spot for my heretical actions, but I did what needed to be done. Just like you would have done for me. Whatever you and Jim did in that room together with the chapstick and Dasani holy water brought you great peace. That’s all that mattered.

And I survived to tell the story.

Love you Brother, and I surely hope you’re not stuck in purgatory because of my last minute battlefield fox-hole improvisations. 😉

Your wife was a Baptist, which might have been part of why the Priest never showed up, or even called. Clearly, there wasn’t going to be a Catholic funeral for any number of reasons, not the least of which was because you were cremated by that time.

Yes, I know, yet another “sin.”

Oh well, we just added it to the long list and St. Peter will have to blame us because you really didn’t get to vote, being dead and all.

You had volunteered at the Baptist church, refinishing the basketball floor and other odd jobs, so your wife invited the Baptist preacher to “preach your funeral.”

Being in the middle of the winter, we worried about the weather, with me arriving from out-of-state and many truckers that had known you for decades driving hard to get back in time. We scheduled your funeral for 4 on Friday to accommodate their schedules so they could arrive in time and didn’t have to sacrifice pay to attend.

I remember hearing those big rigs parked outside the funeral home, lined up, up and down the street, their running lights turned on, with their engines all running in a rumbling trucker-tribute to you.

I smiled then to think about how much you would have liked that. The neighbors must have been mortified.

The room at the funeral home was full, standing room only, overflowing into the lobby and outside when it was time for your funeral to begin. Your photos were on the table in the front, and everyone was seated and waiting.

But, there was no preacher.

Another 5 minutes passed. Then 7. Then 10.

The preacher didn’t answer his cell phone.

Everyone was shuffling and shifting restlessly.

The funeral home said they couldn’t help.

I looked at your wife, who was in no shape to do anything.

She looked at me and said, famously, “You have to do something.”

OH GOD.

Were you there with us? Do you remember how I started your funeral?

I just walked up front, picked up the microphone and said:

“Hi, I’m Dave’s sister. I bet most of you never knew Dave had a sister. Well, he does.”

I told about how we met.

I told them how much I loved you.

And how much you loved me. Sorry, your secret is out!

I told them that your gruff and tough exterior disguised a soft soul afflicted with pain.

I told them how you rescued animals.

Not everyone knew the story of how you acquired Dio, your abused Rotty, literally rescuing him from the hands of his abusers. But, most everyone knew he rode with you for years. Dio had more miles than most cars. It does my heart good to know the two of you are riding together once again, across the rainbow bridge.

I remember how inconsolably devastated you were when he died as you were fighting your own battle. He went to wait for you and I know the reunion was one of sheer ecstasy.

I told them that I discovered you had taken that awful mountainous Idaho potato run so that you could see me because the drop-off terminal was about 10 miles from my house. Of course, you would never have admitted to that!

I was amused to discover that they thought your “sister,” who you stopped to see regularly, was code for a different kind of relationship. Perhaps because they teased you incessantly about loving your sister😊

That’s Ok, so did the manager at the hotel down the road where you would park your rig while we went to eat and came to the house to visit for awhile. I explained that you couldn’t get turned around on my dead-end road but he didn’t believe me. Remember the time we finally pulled out both of our IDs and showed him we were both named Estes? The shocked look on his face said it all.

Those were such good days and wonderful surprises when you’d call to say you were coming through.

I miss them so.

I still look in every black truck I see. I know better, but old habits and rituals of love die hard.

I told them how you announced you would sell your house and move up here to care for me when you thought I had cancer. Thankfully, I didn’t have cancer, but that proclamation meant the world to me. You’ll never know how much. Ok, well maybe you know now.

I told them how much you loved your children and how living long enough to walk your daughter down the aisle was your motivation to live for many months while you waited for the transplant that never arrived. I never told them that you didn’t get to.

I told them how much you didn’t want others to make the same mistakes you had – because love you as I do – you weren’t exactly perfect. None of us are.

So, that day, I became at once the comforter and the preacher. I gave you the ultimate loving send-off on that spectacular sunny winter’s day six years ago. Much like the beautiful day outside today. I always feel that these lovely sunny winter days that melt the snow on the roads are a gift from you.

“Preaching your funeral” was an honor, and one I could never have adequately prepared for. Maybe impromptu was better.

But there’s one thing I didn’t share with them.

That you really weren’t my biological brother. It didn’t matter. I don’t know how I could ever have loved you more.

In spite of thinking your surname really was Estes, biologically, it wasn’t.

Because you were on the “other side” by then, you already knew the truth. You also knew that it was out of love that I spared you that pain here on earth.

Before you passed over, you didn’t know that I had secretly sworn an oath to you as well, that one day I would unearth the truth.

Dave, that day is today.

And now, the ultimate irony. Karma at it’s very best.

You see, you never needed a priest. Despite all of our unsuccessful efforts.

Because you are one.

For years at Family Tree DNA, you’ve had matches to multiple Y DNA surnames.

Recently, two men tested whose surname was Priest, descended from John Anderson Priest born in 1798 in North Carolina.

They are your closest matches, but still, given the variety of surnames that you matched, I paid it little mind.

That is, until today.

Your autosomal DNA returned a match to a first cousin, whose surname just happens to be Priest. Looking at your matches in common, I saw several people with that surname. About 4 hours later, I had the relationships mostly unraveled!

So yes, indeed, you, my dear brother, are a Priest.

I can hear you laughing heartily.

Estes can be your middle name now.

David Estes Priest, with no comma. Our new private joke, even if you do have to enjoy it from afar.

I hope you can truly rest in priest, er, peace now. It’s solved. The last tie to bind you here is gone.

Fly free.

I’ll see you overhome.

Love you.

“Heaven,” from Dave’s rig.

______________________________________________________________

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I Am A River – 52 Ancestors #182

Posted on February 5, 2018 by Roberta Estes

The quilt, “I Am A River” was inspired by a dream during a very difficult period in my life in the 1990s. In fact, I refer to it as “the decade from hell.”

The “elevator pitch” summary from that decade includes the death of my sister along with the prolonged death of my step-father and my in-laws. However, the worst catastrophe was that my (former) husband had a massive stroke which did not kill him but severely disabled him both physically and mentally – meaning I was thrust literally in the blink of an eye into many roles for which I was either ill-prepared or entirely unprepared.

In the spirit of “anything that can go wrong, will,” the stroke occurred at the same time that my much-beloved step-father was dying. My mother was a basket case and so was I. Of course, all of this affected my children in different ways too, and none of it positively. The “decade from hell” doesn’t even begin to convey the magnitude of the swath of devastation.

There were many decisions that I had to make flying blind, with the future entirely unknown.

The Dream

In the dream, various people stood at the intersection of branches of a river where the river split into two divergent paths. They reacted in different ways. One person kept looking back, regretting what had been left behind. One person crawled up on the rocks and tried very hard to avoid making any decision. Me, I craned my neck, peering as far as I could down both sides of the river, upstream and downstream, trying my best to discern the future to make an informed choice.

I felt the soul-searing anchor weight of knowing my decision affected the lives of others as much or perhaps even more than those decisions affected me. I might have a chance to recover. Others would not if I made a poor choice.

Since it was a dream, I could have been all three people – dreams don’t have to make sense and I only remembered the essence, not the details, upon awakening. I also never forgot. The simple message of that dream haunted me.

Of course, in reality, we can’t see very far down the river or into the future anyway and even if we could, we’d never know what was hidden around the next bend. We have to make the best decision we can at the time and then simply hold on for the ride. Especially when your bucolic “Lazy River” ride has turned into a class V whitewater rapids, defined as:

Extremely difficult. Long and violent rapids that follow each other almost without interruption. River filled with obstructions. Big drops and violent currents. Extremely steep gradient. Even reconnoitering may be difficult. Rescue preparations mandatory.

Except – there is no rescue.

The dream represented different approaches to an uncertain and terrifying future – looking backwards and attempting to dwell in the high cliffs of the past, climbing out of the water onto the rock, trying to delay a decision, or trying to peer into the future. It was impossible to simply having faith and go with the flow. “The flow,” in this case, was strewn with peril and death.

I am not that faithful “go with the flow” person. I worry. I fret. I stew. I worry some more. Especially when other people’s welfare is involved. I’m much more willing to roll the dice about my own.

The great irony in all of this is that when forced, I make a decision and simply march forward, one foot in front of the other.

I hear the poem, Invictus, and try my best to believe it. I repeat the phrases “bloody but unbowed” and “I am the captain of my soul” and attempt to convince myself I’m not afraid. Mostly, I simply refuse to acknowledge the shrill voice of fear.

It’s only when I have the luxury, or torture, of time to decide that I agonize over the “what-ifs.”

So here I am, standing in the middle of the river once again. I’ve come to believe we all stand in this river many times in our lives.

DNA

DNA has shaped both me and my life – indelibly. DNA literally created what I am in a biological sense and accounts in many ways for who I am in terms of my traits.

However, for the past 18 years, DNA has shaped me through genetic genealogy as well – allowing me to become acquainted with my ancestors in ways never before possible. To identify with them in a very personal way. It has taken me to places I never dreamed I could or would go – literally, figuratively and scientifically. A new frontier – the one within.

We have the capacity today to be closer to our ancestors through available records and DNA testing than ever before. A new horizon has been reached – the threshold crossed.

So, it’s only natural that I would look backwards to my ancestors, perhaps hoping for some shred of advice or imparted wisdom as I stand once again on what seems like the continental divide.

What did my ancestors do when they had decisions to make? How did they make them? What were they thinking? Is there a guiding light there someplace?

I’d settle for a glimmer.

Were they wanderlusts or unwilling refugees? Some of both? Is that heritable? Did they bequeath it to me?

I picked up, moved across the country and changed my life when I was in my mid-20s. I was certainly not unafraid, but I was infinitely determined. My mother called it stubborn😊 I call it tenacious. A rose by any other name. I have no regrets.

Then, fate intervened again some 13 years later with my husband’s stroke. That was one horrific day – and only a beginning that shoved me unwillingly through a doorway from which there was no return. A one-way portal.

More than a decade later, my life transformed again when I lost my mother. I also remarried. I didn’t anticipate or expect any of those changes back when I was making that first decision to move across the country with my small children in tow.

Sometimes you receive wonderful gifts of fate, opportunities, and sometimes you have to make lemonade out of lemons. Often, you think you’re doing one and you wind up doing the other. Gifts, lemons and lemonade all chained together in the garland of life. That, of course, is exactly why we worry and sit in the middle of that river.

The unknown. That damned terrifying unknown.

So, what would my ancestors do?

WWMAD?

Let’s take a look and see what wisdom the ancestors might impart, based on what we know about their life-altering decisions.

My mother always voiced this lament that made me laugh which made her cringe:

“If you would only just behave.”

This from the woman who danced in the 1930s into the 1940s – trailblazing for others to follow. Ironically, her decision to dance was more driven by the fact that she had no other skill with which to support herself, rather than a burning desire to perform. What she wanted to be was a bookkeeper – but college money was for boys in the family, not girls. Girls danced.

If you’re going to dance, do it well enough to dance professionally. That’s professionally as in stage and theater, not a strip club. Turn lemons into lemonade.

Not to suggest I’m anything like my mother, but let’s just say this photo of me was taken after the genetic genealogy conference in Houston.

Ok. So. That “well behaved” thing is obviously never going to happen.

But where did it come from?

Grandmother, Edith Lore Ferverda and Great-Grandmother, Nora Kirsch Lore

On to my next ancestors, who, I might add, are in this motorcycle photo taken in the early 1900s when motorcycle riding was entirely verboten for women. Not only is my grandmother, Edith, in this photo, so is her mother, Nora, (last two, at rear) and her sisters. In case anyone wants to know where I got that “not well-behaved” propensity, um, it might be here! If you’re counting, this is four generations of misbehavior in a row. Genetic much?

My grandmother, Edith Barbara Lore, (rear of the motorcycle) used to tell my mother, “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

She would know.

Edith didn’t follow her heart and never really forgave herself for the lost opportunity – coloring the way she reacted to her family for the rest of her life. At some level, she spent her life grieving the opportunity she never took. Perhaps she was sitting on that rock in the river, or attempting to peer downstream.

Regret is poison.

Had my grandmother gone to Colorado with “the cowboy,” let’s just say that my life would not be the same and my grandfather would have been someone entirely different. I wouldn’t be me.

Ironically, the name of the man who so convincingly stole my grandmother’s heart and took it west with him, whom she was afraid to follow, is entirely unknown. Just “the cowboy.”

Fear – so often the ruler or our life – and our decisions.

Had Edith made a different choice, my mother and I would be different people, raised in Colorado, not Indiana. A ripple through the pond of life that would reflect for eternity – so long as my grandmother’s descendants live.

I don’t want to live my life with regrets like my grandmother – but who’s to say she wouldn’t have regretted following her love to the wild west. It’s a possibility either way. Life’s like that. No promises. Uncertain at best. Sitting in that rock in the river.

Father, William Sterling Estes

My father, William Sterling Estes, made so many outright bad decisions from anyone’s perspective that I often want to shake him and ask, “What the Hell were you thinking?” Clearly, I’m not looking for any advice from him. Just like you don’t go to the bar and ask the drunk guy who is broke for financial advice.

My father wasted no time even trying to look upstream. He was caught up in the adrenaline of the minute, swimming directly into the rapids without even a life vest. He did however, appear to develop a skill in the backstroke, especially after being caught in a net!

The best I can hope for comes from the old adage, “at least he can serve as a bad example.”

Grandmother, Ollie Bolton

My father’s mother, Ollie Bolton – that poor woman. She certainly didn’t live the life she signed up for as a misty-eyed bride of 18 tender years.

I don’t know if she lived her own dreams, or her husband’s. Did she really want to leave Claiborne County, Tennessee and move to Springdale, Arkansas almost immediately after she was married where her first few children would be born? Was that trip full of just-married “I’ll follow you anywhere” starry-eyed love? I’d bet the journey back was VERY different.

Ollie moved back to Tennessee a decade later with a husband, William George Estes, who wasn’t fond of work and was very fond of alcohol. They are pictured together below, although she may haunt me for that.

Ollie wound up with a husband that wasn’t, who drank more than worked and had a roving eye as well as other body parts. In the next chapter of her life, after a child burned to death and living in yet a third state where she caught her husband cheating, Ollie found herself alone, struggling and parceling out her children. I don’t know how much was by choice or because she had only poor choices available at that point.

How I wish I could talk to Ollie and understand how she made those horribly difficult decisions – her thought process and the circumstances I’ll never fully understand that affected my father so profoundly.

Choices.

So often our choices really aren’t our own. Thrown into the water and forced to swim or drown.

Forced upon us by circumstances in which we find ourselves. No one wants to be that person who is living with their children, destitute, ill, dependent and vulnerable in their old age.

My greatest fear isn’t death, and never has been, but that scenario! That!

GG-Grandfather, John Y. Estes

I think about my great-great-grandfather, John Y. Estes, who served in the Civil War, on the side of the Confederacy. He was listed as a deserter, supposedly captured, then became a POW. Did he put up a struggle, or was being “captured” really surrender or seeking the Union soldiers? Was he even serving of his own volition, or was he forced, conscripted? What did he think about when deciding to “desert,” if that’s in fact what happened? Was he brave or cowardly?

Eventually, after being held as a POW, John was released north of the Ohio River near the end of the war. I expect they thought the walk back to Tennessee on an injured leg would kill him, but it didn’t. Limping only slows you down. Sometimes impairments are more in the eye of the beholder and a matter of attitude. Maybe that tenacious, stubborn gene perchance? Did I get a dose from both sides?

After his return to Claiborne County, Tennessee, John immediately sold his household goods to his eldest son who was only age 17 at the time. A transaction that raises eyebrows and provides nothing but questions. He continued to live in the home with his wife, because at least two more children were subsequently born.

Some 15 years after the Civil War, John Y. Estes walked to Texas with a bum leg. Why did he make that choice? What was the draw? Did he and Ruthy, his wife, discuss that choice before he left? What was their intention?

Was the attraction the land available in Oklahoma and Texas, although he never owned any there and appeared to abandon his land in Tennessee to his wife? Was this a form of unofficial divorce? Did he return to his roots? He lived on Choctaw land although his life in Oklahoma is murky at best.

Was he excited about an opportunity, looking forward? Or was he running from something, like his Civil War service or a marriage gone bad? Was he at odds with his wife? What was his motivation? How did he weigh the odds? Did he actually decide to walk 1000 miles, or did he just walk the first mile, then the second, then the third…until he had walked 1000? Analogous to simply jumping into the water and finding your self far downstream into uncharted waters.

Not only did he walk to Texas once, but he walked back to Claiborne County, then back to Texas again. Yes, three walks of more than 1000 miles each. Apparently his walk from the north to the south after the Civil War of 300 or 400 miles that was supposed to kill him was only training.

John was no spring chicken either. In 1865 when he was released as a POW, he was 47 and by 1880 when he first walked to Texas, he was 62. I can’t even begin to fathom walking to Texas, and back, and back to Texas again, at that age AND on a bad leg – so bad that his grandchildren’s recollection of him is that he was short and fat with bushy eyebrows and that he limped with one leg shorter than the other.

What drives, or inspires, someone to undertake a journey like that, at the age when others retire, especially with his “handicap”? Whatever in this world would cause him to undertake that journey a second and third time? Whatever it was, it must have been extremely compelling. Something caused him to plunge into the water and then swim upstream three times.

Why? What was he thinking?

And why did this man not leave a journal? Some hint? So exasperating.

GG-Grandmother Ruthy Dodson Estes

And what of John’s wife, Ruthy Dodson? Did she proclaim “good riddance” when he left? Did he walk back to Tennessee, hoping to convince her to return to Texas with him? Did she actually decide not to go, or did she never decide, thereby deciding by not deciding? Was she attempting to peer down the river?

The only hint is that she says she is divorced in the 1880 census – but there is no divorce on record at the courthouse. Was she just saving face, missing him, and angry that John had left forever?

What did she think as he walked away for the last time? Did he turn around and look back with one last glimmer of hope? Was she too angry, stubborn or afraid to go?

Was she regretting a decision, or relieved? By 1883, when her son George moved to Texas too, she could have gone by train. But still, she stayed in Tennessee.

Ruthy had rheumatoid arthritis. Perhaps her health was simply too poor to travel that distance. The family story says that she was disabled for 22 years and her son, Lazarus, had to carry her down the mountain from her cabin to his so she could live with he and his wife. Did Ruthy’s health prevent her from making the decision to relocate to Texas?

Or, God forbid, was Ruthy’s deteriorating health part of what drove John Y. Estes to walk to Texas after being married for 39 years? Subtracting 22 years from her death date tells us that she was severely disabled by 1881. I really, really don’t want to think John simply, literally walked away from a wife who needed help. Escaping down that river.

GGG-Grandfather, John R. Estes

The father of John Y. Estes, John R. Estes who was born and raised in Halifax County, Virginia packed his young family up after his military service in the War of 1812 and probably joined a wagon caravan through the mountains to Claiborne County, Tennessee. He was a young man then, but surely he knew that he was saying goodbye to his mother, father and siblings and would never see them again? How did he do that? Was he under the delusion that he would return to visit? His mother died not long after he moved, but his father lived another 40 years. Did he look backward up on those river cliffs, longing for what he left behind – wishing to see his parents one last time?

And what about his wife, Nancy Ann Moore who would sit in her father’s church one last time hearing him preach? Did she get to vote or did she simply get dragged into the water along with John?

At least I get to vote. Which means, of course, I bear full responsibility for the outcome of that vote. Ying and yang.

GGGG-Grandfather, George Estes

John R.’s father, George Estes, was a Revolutionary soldier, served 3 terms, moved a family in 1781 to what would become Hawkins and Grainger Counties in eastern Tennessee, stayed a year or so, but then rode back to Halifax County where he spent the rest of his life.

George’s reverse path is really quite different, because no one ever “went back.” But George did! He rode his horse eastward, backtracking, even though he wasn’t married and there was no obvious compelling reason. What caused him to return? I’d love to know what he was thinking, as his decision is counter-intuitive, especially as compared to the other people following that same migration route westward.

Why?

What caused George to swim back upstream?

GGGGGGG-Grandfather, Abraham Estes

Abraham Estes, an orphan in Kent, England, married at age 25 in 1672 and buried his young wife before setting sail for America 9 or 10 months later. There’s no question that he was leaving heartbreak. He had nothing left to lose, and everything to gain. He didn’t care about what was down that river, because staying was so much more painful than leaving.

His decision, I understand, but others are much murkier.

Those Brave Souls

One brave soul, the founder of each family line in America had to make the decision to sell everything, pay for passage on a boat – or sell themselves as indentured servants – leave their homeland and head for the colonies. Of course, that assumes they weren’t convicts or slaves who had no choice at all. Sometimes slaves threw themselves into the sea, with full intention of drowning – because they believed death was better than what would follow. Perhaps they were right.

How did our ancestors make migration decisions? Were they made with excited optimism or with faces lined with worry about potential death. Did they really have choices? It’s one thing to decide for yourself, but what of the choice made for your wife and children – knowing that the old wives’ tale foretold that one child would die in each family for each sea crossing. Would you be willing to sacrifice a child to the watery grave – or did you think you would be the lucky unscathed family? Was their faith in whatever they perceived God or their religion to be such that they felt a child’s death was pre-ordained? Or, did they believe God would watch over them?

I’m afraid my rock-sitting in the middle of the river doesn’t do those brave ancestors justice. There was no question that they were never going home. There was no going back – no breadcrumbs. There were no phones. Letters were uncertain and best case, horribly slow. Many never arrived at all. Whatever and whoever they left behind was unquestionably forever – and the future was obscured in the fog of an uncertain journey in a small leaky boat traversing a massive and often angry sea.

There was no guarantee they would survive the passage – and they clearly knew that. Yet, they made the decision to leave anyway.

I’d love to know how they reached that decision. Oh, to be a fly on the wall.

GGG-Grandfather, Jacob Lentz

The paternal Y-line DNA tells us that our Lentz line was found along the Volga River about 3500 years ago, one of very few men living today who match ancient burials there. They belong to the Yamnaya culture whose men decided in some way to “migrate” to what is today Germany.

We know, unquestionably that they left their homes, traveling thousands of miles, but why, and how was that decision made? Were they soldiers or did they arrive as settlers with families? Did they have any idea where they were going, or did they simply follow commands to travel west and attack villages as they went? Did they stay and settle, or just leave their DNA in the local population?

And then there was Yamnaya descendant, Jacob Lentz, the humble vine-dresser, too poor to marry his “wife,” causing their children to be born without the “benefit of marriage.” In 1816 a famine and crop failure nearly starved the family, prompting them to leave Beutelsbach, Germany and set sail for the new world in the spring 1817 – only to become shipwrecked by a murderous sea captain, nearly starved for a second time, then becoming stranded in Norway. Jacob lost almost everything – except his wife and three of his children. One of his children perished. The wives’ tale fulfilled.

There’s far more that we don’t know than we do.

Brave – Jacob Lentz was an incredibly brave leader – finding his voice when compassion called, organizing the shipwrecked survivors into a cohesive group and finding passage, with no money, a second time. He and his family became indentured servants, but after serving their time, Jacob became a Brethren, moving once again cross country and acquiring land in Ohio. In spite of that horrific life chapter, Jacob certainly achieved his dream. But, there were costs, unspeakable literal life and death costs as he buried family members and friends at sea as they died of starvation. a fate impossible to even conceive of ahead of time.

Jacob must has been inconsolably wracked as he realized how others suffered and died because of his decision, including his own child.

Sometimes we drown in that river. Sometimes we watch others drown as a result of our decisions. Sometimes we wish we could drown.

How did Jacob balance the risk versus the potential reward? Was his driving factor hunger and poverty? Was he desperate to marry his wife? How did he muster the courage to get on the SECOND ship to America, after his horrific experience on the first one? Was his driving desire desperation?

GGG-Grandmother, Fredericka Reuhle and her Parents

Jacob’s wife, Fredericka Reuhle, left Germany with her husband, children and parents on that ill-fated journey. She and her parents left some of her siblings behind. What a gut-wrenching goodbye that must have been. I know the famine and crop failure drove them to leave – but why did some choose to stay?

Fredericka’s parents were about age 60 at that time. We don’t know for sure that they survived, but they weren’t listed among the dead in Norway. Maybe they thought their days of decisions were over – only to make the most life-altering decision of their lifetime.

Did that decision lead to a new life or a slow death? Did they find themselves indentured as servants at age 60, or did they find only a watery grave at the end of their journey? Did they too drown in that proverbial river?

Some ancestors made an active decision to leave, or stay, but refugees from famine or war often had little choice. Convicts had none.

My ancestral lines include many religious refugees. The fighting between people of different religious (and political) views is as old as humanity itself. Some seeking religious tolerance. Some left to escape religion entirely.

GGGGGG-Grandfather, Murtough McDowell

Murtough McDowell was a political refugee from Ireland who homesteaded in Maryland by 1722, before Baltimore even existed. He and his young wife were clearly seeking opportunities. It wasn’t possible to own land in Ireland at that time – not for poor Protestants anyway. Land wasn’t guaranteed in the colony of Maryland, but it was possible – and I’m sure it was that possibility along with almost constant warfare that drew him away from Kingsmoss outside of Belfast. I’d say he left with a smile on his face – right up until he waved goodbye to his parents if they were still living. He lived to realize his dream – with three land patents to his name. That river of life was kind to him, as best we know.

GGGGGG-Grandfather, Johann Michael Mueller

Johann Michael Mueller was probably a religious refugee – one of those reviled Pietists. The Germans were probably glad to see these folks move on – as the Swiss had been a generation or two before. No matter, America was the land of opportunity where religious freedom was tolerated if not encouraged in Pennsylvania. Michael Mueller/Miller immigrated with his half-brother, Jacob Stutzman – two young men probably full of life, seeking opportunity. The decision to leave was probably relatively easy for them, and they had each other for company. They literally dove into the water together.

Eventually, Johann Michael Miller’s descendants would marry those of Jacob Lentz on the prairieland frontier of northern Indiana, adjacent the Indian village.

Great-Grandparents, Curtis Benjamin Lore and Nora Kirsch

My mother’s grandfather, Curtis Benjamin Lore, above with wife Nora, was half Acadian. C. B. Lore, as he was called, made some questionable decisions. You know, like marrying a second woman before divorcing the first wife. Those pesky details.

However, unlike the decisions made by other ancestors, I very clearly understand HOW he made that decision – and it had to do with the shotgun of his soon-to-be father-in-law, Jacob Kirsch, who was a crack shot. Jacob, of course, didn’t know that the man who had gotten his daughter, Nora Kirsch, pregnant was still married to someone else – or I’m thinking that C. B. Lore wouldn’t have been afforded the option of marrying Nora – he would have been pushing up daisies instead. Jacob Kirsch had already lynched a man just two years earlier, so there would have been no doubt in C. B. Lore’s mind about what Jacob could and would do. That decision was probably easy.

One river branch was sure and certain death and the other was unknown.

GG-Grandfather Anthony Lore

C. B. Lore’s father, Anthony Lore or Lord, led something of a sketchy life and was rumored to be either a river trader or a pirate. The one thing we do know, for sure, is that at one point, after a terrible rift in his Acadian family caused by his mother renouncing the Catholic faith and becoming, gasp, Protestant, that Anthony simply picked up and left L’Acadie, south of Montreal. He followed Lake Champlain into Vermont where he met and married his non-Acadian, non-Catholic wife, Rachel Hill.

Why he made the choice to leave is evident. That religious split within the Lord family colored both sides of that family into future generations where the religious battle was fought over and over for generations. Not for Anthony – he simply left.

Anything downriver had to be better than staying.

The Acadians

The Acadians, staunch Catholics, began settling in Port Royal, Nova Scotia about 1603, before Jamestown was founded, but their new homeland wasn’t to be forever. In 1755, some 150 years later, they were forcibly evicted by the English. Originally arriving in Nova Scotia as Catholics seeking refuge, their choice to remain neutral in Canada to maintain peace had backfired. When deported, 6 generations after arrival, it was as refugees once again – stripped of everything, at the mercy of anyone and everyone – families scattered to the winds. The only choice they got to make was whether to try to find their family members, their way back to Canada or attempt to rebuild a life wherever the ship they were herded onto landed.

The Acadian people had both literally and figuratively been herded into the river water.

These brave people risked everything to find family again. Untold numbers perished. True grit.

The 1709ers

The 1709ers were another group of refugees who weren’t refugees to begin with but became refugees in 1709 as a result of their decision to leave Germany in search of the elusive dream – free land. Some of the flyers distributed in Germany espousing that alluring “fake news” still exist, encouraging people to travel to America to claim “free land” supposedly being provided by the Queen of England, so we know why these German families made this choice.

We know that the decision was probably made quickly and in an adrenalin-fueled haze – sometimes the decision point to actual departure accomplished within days. What they didn’t know or expect was that they would be stranded first in Rotterdam, then in England for a year or so, then on to America where that “free land” to which they convinced themselves they were entitled never materialized.

Their lives might have been better had they had heeded the colloquialism, “if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.”

It’s stories like this that cause me to overthink things today. Am I sure I have every piece of information I need to make the decision? Is the info all valid?

The 1709ers are a great example of the decisions we fear making – a one-way street where the dream becomes a nightmare that won’t end and from which there is no recovery. Maybe these people were a little too anxious to plunge into that river.

Native Americans

And then, of course, my Native ancestors who are very nearly lost entirely to history in the “settling of America.” Genocide, pure and simple, using the excuse that they were pagans and in need of religious conversion.

There are only remnants of their blood running in my veins today. But their story, their history has never been stronger – even if I don’t know all of their names. Some have been resurrected through the DNA of their descendants. Even if it’s only their Y or mitochondrial DNA that introduces me to them – they are then positively identified as Native and we can honor their sacrifices. They had to make horrific decisions. Akin to “how would you like to die?” Not if, only how. They had no good options. Both sides of their river was filled with deadly, impassible, class VI rapids.

Sometimes, being nice to strangers really isn’t the answer. But, how do you know? Where do the concepts of humanity to others and self-preservation separate?

The River of Uncertainty

Decisions are frightening and difficult. No hints as to the unknown future. No peeking around the bend in the River of Uncertainty.

In the end, will we say that we could have missed the pain, but would have had to miss the dance – or will we, like the 1709ers, be irreparably damaged as a result of what was expected to be a choice full of smiles and opportunity. Will we drown in those rapids, nameless, like my Native ancestors? Will we wish we were dead instead, or die a burden to our children?

Or, will we be like the redeemed doubter, George Washington, who said in September 1776, writing to his cousin, after losing New York City to the British in the Revolutionary War, “If I were to wish the bitterest curse to an enemy on this side of the grave, I should put him in my stead with my feelings.” Then, uncertain, feeling inadequate and scared as hell, General Washington mustered the courage of his convictions and went on to win the war – and with it America’s freedom from England, irreversibly changing the course of history for the entire world. Not to mention changing the life of every single American individually between then and now. He simply dove into the icy water, defying both fear and fate!

How does anyone know what’s down the river and around the bend? How can one best anticipate the future and make the decision with the least harmful outcome?

No one wants to become “that” burdensome ancestor who made a tragic decision. We all want to be the success story – but none of my ancestors made the decisions they did knowing the outcome.

Therein lies the eternal human quandary. How to make the best choice.

Here I am, once again, having come full circle, in the middle of the river – left wondering what my ancestors would have done. The message I hear, strong and clear, is to consider carefully and then plunge with the courage of your convictions, embracing the opportunity, relishing the journey, and never looking back.

We are all the river and the river is life.

Journey

As you journey through life,
choose your destinations well,
but do not hurry there.

You will arrive soon enough.

Wander the back roads and forgotten paths,
keeping your destination in your heart,
like the fixed point of a compass.

Seek out new voices,
strange sights,
and ideas foreign to your own.

Such things are riches for the soul.

And if, upon arrival
you find that your destination
is not exactly as you had dreamed,
do not be disappointed.

Think of all you would have missed
but for the journey there,
and know that the true worth of your travels
is not where you come to be at journey’s end.

But in who you came to be along the way.

Roberta Estes

______________________________________________________________

Disclosure

Thank you so much.

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Anna Ursula Schlosser (1633-1701) and the Ides of March, 52 Ancestors #181

Posted on January 28, 2018 by Roberta Estes

4-15-2018 – After this story published, we subsequently discovered that Irene is not a Schlosser. I am leaving this story because parts of this information have been on the internet for some time – and I want to be sure the entire story of why people thought Irene was a Schlosser, and how we know she isn’t, is available. For the rest of the story, including her correct surname, click here.

As we unraveled the story of Irene Charitas Schlosser and her parents, my friend Tom provided critical information that unlocked the name of Irene’s mother, Conrad Schlosser’s wife. I can’t thank Tom enough for his painstaking work and his infinite patience with me!

Conrad Schlosser’s wife is mentioned in a baptism. Her given names are Anna Ursula.

My heart lept into my throat. Another ancestor identified, at least partially.

Anna Ursula. I rolled her name across my tongue and pronounced her as mine! And I as hers, of course.

Much of Anna Ursula’s life story comes to us through her husband and sometimes by inference. Just when I thought I knew something about Anna Ursula, I discovered in fact that I did not. I love/hate it when this happens!

Introducing Anna Ursula

I thought I knew that Anna Ursula’s life didn’t begin in Steinwenden, because I thought that she and Conrad immigrated as a family to the area about 1684 from Switzerland. At that time Anna Ursula would have been married to Conrad (Cunradt) Schlosser for between 25 and 30 years meaning that she would have spend half a century or so living in Switzerland.

Ummm….no.

After I published Conrad Schlosser’s story, new information came to light from a reader, Chris, who has sent me invaluable information, both before and since. I can’t thank Chris enough either! Between Chris and Tom, I have been truly blessed.

In particular, Chris found the following information in this article:

“Johann Jakob Hauser around 1660 constructor of the “moor mill” in Steinwenden. During the 30 years war, the region Steinwemden, including among others the villages Weltersbach and Steinwenden, was heavily depopulated. It is only in a tax list in 1671, that inhabitants are again listed, among them Johann Jakob Hauser, miller in Steinwenden. [compare the copy from 1800 of a not conserved original; copy printed in: “Weltersbach. Streifzüge durch die Ortsgeschichte”, a.a.O., page 19]. Around 1660, Johann Jakob Hauser and CONRAD SCHLOSSER rebuilt the moor mill. In the 1680s, the mill was owned by Johann Schenkel.”

Wow. Just wow.

Of course, there are several tidbits of incredibly valuable information here.

First, if Conrad Schlosser was living in or near Steinwenden in 1660, the family clearly did not migrate from elsewhere in 1684.

Second, I need desperately to find the list of families in 1671, because it’s very likely that Anna Ursula’s family is among these people. Conrad would most likely have married a local girl and settled down nearby – which is where they are found in 1685, after the beginning of the church records in Steinwenden in 1684.

And yes, I have already tried to find the book in the library in Salt Lake City library. The German title of the book is Weltersbach: Streifzüge durch die Ortsgeschichte and WorldCat says it’s only available at a library in Munich and another in Frankfurt. Anyone local to either, have the book or know of a resource?

Steinwenden

We do know that Anna Ursula wasn’t born in Steinwenden, the village, in the location where it exists today, because that village and region was entirely depopulated during the 30 Years War, but she could have been born not terribly far distant. We just don’t know, but we do know that her family had to be in the general vicinity for Anna Ursula to meet and marry Conrad Schlosser about 1660.

An original text in German written in 1980 titled “The History of Steinwenden” by Roland Paul, historian of the Palatine Region of Germany, provides information about the region. Translated and adapted for English by Dr. Claus Kirchner, Eric Dysinger, and Anne Dysinger, they state:

Researchers believe that the name Steinwenden can be traced back to the old Germanic word “winne” (as compared to the village name “Winden” in Southern Rhineland Palatine), which translates to “terrain with pastures.” Such large pastures always existed south of the village in between Steinwenden and Weltersbach, in the valley of the Moorsbach stream. The first part of Steinwenden (“Stein”) most likely refers to the remains of the original Roman estate, located between Wiesental, Bruehl and the present-day Roemerstrasse (i.e., Roman street). The village name of Steinwenden can therefore be explained as “pasture close to stones” (or stonehouse, or stonewalls).

You can see the Mohrbach in the aerial view today, beneath the village. Is that where the mill Conrad rebuilt was located?

The name Steinwenden dates to at least 1180 AD but the population living in Steinwenden after the 30 Years War would not have been the descendants of the first settlers because Steinwenden was completely abandoned during the 30 Years War and apparently until about 1660. That’s likely why the mill was being rebuilt – people were once again beginning to settle in the region.

Quoting again:

Even 8 years after the Peace Treaty of Westphalia, our homeland was in a desolate state as reflected in a 1656 entry in the direct tax book number 12: “Nobody resides yet in the district of Steinwinden [most likely the complete aforementioned area]”. This was due to the fact that the former inhabitants who fled from their homes during the war did not return. The resettlement of the area started around 1660 with, among others, the Swiss immigrants playing a major role in the noteworthy reconstruction that began under difficult circumstances and lasted for decades. The reformed church books contain the names of some of the resettlers: Berny, Buechi (Bichy, Bihy), Brennermann, Freyvogel, Hunzinger, Koller, Kyburtz, Zinsmeister and many more. Immigrants from Germany also moved to the region.

Steinwenden in 1684 consisted once again of six families, totaling approximately 25 residents. More than one hundred years later, in 1791, this number had risen to 305.

This provides us with even more fascinating tidbits. We know that no one lived in Steinwenden in 1656. We know based on church records that Conrad and Anna Ursula were there in 1685 and that Conrad was in the region in 1660, so it stands to reason that they were one of the six families mentioned in 1684. And I’d bet that they were related to the other 5 households.

We also know that in 1685, Anna Ursula’s daughter had already married one of the Swiss immigrants because they had a child baptized.

What We Do Know About Anna Ursula

We don’t know Anna Ursula’s maiden name, but we do know that her daughter was named for her so we need to be careful not to mistake the daughter for the mother (or vice versa) in the church records.

The mother, Anna Ursula Schlosser, a widow, died on March 15, 1701. According to her death record in the Steinwenden church register, she was born in 1633, during the 30 Years War. It’s unlikely that she was born in Steinwenden since no one was living there in 1656 and the article states that the earlier residents did not return. It was in 1660 that the rebuilding began.

Burial: The 15th of March 1701, Anna Ursula, surviving widow of the late Cunradt Schlosser, 68 years old.

The church record above indicates that not only Anna Ursula died, but so did her daughter two weeks prior to Anna Ursula’s death, as did her 21 year old son a week later.

Steinwenden Church Records

The Steinwenden Reformed Church records begin in 1684. In those records, we find various records of Anna Ursula and her children.

The historical records tell us that in 1684, just before the Swiss arrived, the village only had 6 families with a total of 25 people. That’s not much, especially for a location that could clearly accommodate more, and had in the past.

I’d guess that in 1684 or 1685 when the Swiss began arriving, they probably had their pick of relatively good land, not to mention that all of the trades would be needed as the village grew. However, Conrad and Anna Ursula who had settled in that area 20+ years earlier surely had already laid claim to the best lands.

The first records for any of the known surnames associated with this family are found in the marriage on April 28, 1685 of Anna Maria Schlosser to Melchior Clemens.

The second record is found on June 5, 1685 when Johann Nicholas Muller, son of Irene Charitas Schlosser and Johann Michael Muller was born and died the next day. I wonder if that was the first burial in the churchyard for this family group. This tells us that Irene became pregnant in about September of 1684. We don’t know where or when they were married, although it’s very likely in the church local to Steinwenden – wherever that was at the time. We know that the Steinwenden church records begin in 1684. The church may have already been established, although with only 6 families, that seems unlikely.

We know that Johann Michael Mueller was born in 1755 in Zollikoffen, Canton Bern, Switzerland. Between 1755 and 1785, we know that he married the daughter of Anna Ursula and Conrad Schlosser, but in which church is a mystery. This tells us that the Muller/Mueller/Miller family was in the region by at least 1784.

Michael Muller’s Cousin

A 1689 record mentions that Jacob Ringeisen of Schweitz was “serving for his cousin Michael Muller.”

Records in Steinwenden for Jacob Ringeisen begin in 1686 for Hans Jacob, or simply Jacob Ringeisen and wife Susanna.

A death record is found for Jacob on June 1, 1691, stating he was born in 1654, but no location is given although his occupation is schreiner, a carpenter. I wonder if Jacob Ringeisen was born in Zollikoffen, given that he is listed as a cousin to Michael Muller.

We believe that Johann Michael Miller was born in Zollikoffen, Switzerland in 1655 based on a record in the Reformed (Calvinist) Church there. Zollikoffen is about 161 km from Geneva, the center of the Calvinist faith. Zollikoffen is about 400 km from Steinwenden, much of the way along the Rhine River. The Schlosser family in Steinwenden was Calvinist as well.

Graffschaft Felkenburg

I have often wondered if we compiled all of the earliest church records in Steinwenden and created a family tree that we would find that all of the Swiss families were related in some fashion. I would suspect that these families were interwoven long before they arrived in Steinwenden, and that they arrived as an interrelated family group. If we are ever able to find them in Switzerland, Jacob Ringeisen’s unusual name may be the key.

Hoping to find some clue about the location these immigrants came from, I asked my friend Tom to take a look. The only clue is the following entry in the church records:

28 April 1685 at Steinwenden were married Melchior Clemens, emigrant from Graffschaft Felkenburg with Anna Maria, legitimate daughter of Cunradt Schlosser, the same (place?).

Does “the same place” refer to Steinwenden or Graffschaft Felkenburg? Where was Graffschaft Felkenburg? It’s not locatable on a map today. If any reader has any idea about where to find this village, please let me know.

Chris provided me with yet another document: Fritz Braun, “Schweizer und andere Einwanderer sowie Auswanderer im ref. Kirchenbuch Steinwenden (1684-1780)”
In: Mitteilungen zur Wanderungsgeschichte der Pfälzer 1960, Folge 3/4, S. 17-32

This translates to “Swiss and other immigrants and emigrants in the reformed church book of Steinwenden (1684-1780).” Tom came to my rescue and found the actual document.

Conrad Schlosser isn’t found in this list of immigrants/emigrants. I was initially disappointed, but then again, this article only features families that moved in or moved out – not founder families. Therefore Conrad’s family is omitted, which makes me sad because if the area was entirely depopulated, we know he had to come from someplace – although I swear I do have some mystery ancestors who were born under rocks or brought by storks!

Now I’m wondering if we can infer the names of the “founder families” by comparing that 1671 tax list (assuming I can actually find a copy) and this list of immigrant/emigrant families and the families in the tax list but not in this document are the founder families. Anna Ursula’s parents would be among those founder families.

This isn’t just back door research, it’s crawling through the upstairs window by shimmying up the trellis!

Recreating the Family

Anna Ursula, the mother, was born in 1633, someplace.

Given social marriage practices of the day, she probably married Conrad Schlosser about 1653 and her first child would have followed about 1654. Those would have been glorious days of young love, assuming that her first child or children lived.

Based on the evidence we have through the church records, it’s possible that her earliest children died, unless of course she married late, in about 1659 when she would have been 26.

Given that the Steinwenden church records don’t begin until 1684, this begs the question of where she and Conrad were married and where her children were baptized.

I’ve created a possible childbirth timeline, based on Anna Ursula’s known children and her birth year, assuming she married about age 20. Notice all the years where there are no children listed, implying deaths.

1654
1656
1658
1660? – Irene Charitas Schlosser born approximately 1660, married Johann Michael Mueller (first child born in Steinwenden in 1685)
1661 – Anna Catharina (never married)
Before 1665 – Anna Maria (married Melchior Clemens in 1685)
1664 – Carl Schlosser (began having children in 1701, died in 1731)
1666
1667
1669
1670
1672
1674
Probably about 1676 – Anna Ursula (the daughter) was confirmed in 1692 and married in 1696 to Johann Calman Hoffbauer.
1678
1680 – Johannes Peter buried July 21, 1691, age 11
1680 – Johannes, buried March 22, 1701, age 21

There were no children born after 1680 when Anna Ursula would have been 47. Of course, as luck would have it, the church records began 4 years later.

Certainly there were more children born to Anna Ursula – the question is only if any survived. That’s a lot of blank spots. There would have been even more children born, about a year apart instead of two years, if some of the babies died at birth. The list above presumes the children lived long enough to be weaned, meaning births occurred approximately every two years.

Clearly, Anna Ursula dealt with a lot of grief in her life. Since the only death records of Anna Ursula’s children in Steinwenden after 1684 are recorded, she probably buried at least 9 children before the records began. Not to mention her parents and probably siblings and their children too.

Let’s see what we know about Anna Ursula’s children that lived, in approximate age order.

Irena Charitas Schlosser and Michael Mueller Sr.

Irene Charitas Schlosser was married to Johann Michael Mueller (Sr.) probably sometime about 1684 or maybe early 1685 given that she was probably born sometime between 1660-1665, give or take a couple years.

The marriage of Irene Charitas is not recorded in Steinwenden, but the birth of children is duly recorded every couple years in the church records beginning in 1685.

Tragically, Irene only had one child that lived to adulthood unless Irene Charitas Schlosser Muller had a child or children before 1685 that lived, but for whom we find no records at all. Her known children are:

June 5, 1685 – Johann Nicholas Muller born and died the next day. Godparents: Hanns Georg Scheimocher; Nickel Stahl; Hans Georg ?, wife.
July 9, 1688 – Johann Abraham Muller born and died (within a few months – date illegible). Godparents: Abraham Wochner, tailor; Hans Bergter from Krotelbach; Mar. Magd., H. Hofmann’s wife.
April 30, 1687 – Samuel Muller born and died the same day, shortly after birth. Godparents: H Samuel Hoffman and his wife.
June 7, 1688 – Catherina Barbara born, died July 21, 1691. Godparents: Maria Catharina, wife of Jonas Schror ………..Samuel Lo.., the tailor
April 24, 1691 – Eva Catherine Muller born and died on June 29, 1691, 2 months old, just 5 days after the child above died. Godparents: Eva, wife of Hans Ulrich? Berny, Catharina, wife of Hans Georg Dreysinger; Kilian ?, Michael Frey.
October 5, 1692 – Johann Michael Mueller who died in the US in 1771, age 78 years. Godparents: Johann Michael Schuhmacher; Balthasar Jolage; Christina, wife of Hans Bergter (Bergtol) from Krodelbach (Krottelbach). Johann Michael Mueller’s eventual wife was a Berchtol.

Irene Charitas’ husband, Johann Michael Mueller, died on January 31, 1695.

The fate of Irene Charitas is uncertain. She may have died before Michael’s death, or she may not have. There is no church record reflecting her death. However, the widow of Johann Michael Mueller, by the name of Anna Loysa Regina married Jakob Stutzman in the Steinwenden church on September 29, 1695. This, of course, suggests that Irene Charitas died long enough before Johann Michael Mueller for him to remarry before his own death in January 1695. That means that Irene would have died between October 5, 1692 and January 31, 1595, so 2 years and a couple months gap. If this was the case, where is Irene Charitas’ death record or Johann Michael Mueller’s remarriage record? He clearly died in Steinwenden, so there is no reason to think he had moved.

Further complicating the matter, in later records pertaining to Johann Michael Mueller Jr., Jacob Stutzman’s wife is referenced as the mother of Johann Michael Mueller. We know when Johann MIchael Mueller was born, so he had to be the son of Irene Charitas. Needless to say, this is very confusing because the records contradict themselves.

There is evidence pointing in both directions, so for now, I’m going to leave the question of Irene Charitas’ death unresolved. We will visit this topic in the future in a separate article.

At Anna Ursula’s death, she had buried all but one of her daughters and all but one of Irene Charitas’ children. She had also buried her son-in-law and she may have buried Irene Charitas as well.

Anna Catherine Schlosser

Born in 1661, Anna Catharina Schlosser didn’t marry and died March 3, 1701, just two weeks before her mother.

Anna Maria Schlosser and Melchior Clemens

Based on church records, we know that Irene’s sister, Anna Maria Schlosser was married to Melchior Clemens on April 28, 1685 in Steinwenden. What goodies can we dig up about her?

The baptism of Johann Michael Clemens, son of Melchior Clemens & Anna Maria Schlosser is a very important family record, because Michael Muller is a godparent and it confirms the family connection a second time! (Thanks so much to my friend Tom for finding these images and translating the records.)

January 31, 1686 – Johann Michael, parents: Melchior Clemens & and Anna Maria from Steinwenden. Godparents: Hans Georg Schuhmacher; Michael Muller and Jacob Orsels wife.

While their first child was born and baptized in Steinwenden, the rest were not. Apparently Melchior was Catholic, because their subsequent children were baptized in a Catholic church. I wonder what kind of a scandal or family rift that caused!

The Thirty Years War that ended in 1648 was a bitterly fought and extremely devastating war that depopulated much of Germany, including Steinwenden. While the issues were not entirely religious, there was certainly a Catholic versus Protestant component.

I’m guessing, but I don’t know, that Anna Ursula was at the baptism of each of her grandchildren regardless of which church, Protestant or Catholic, they were baptized in.

The next two children were baptized in the Catholic Church in Glan-Munchweiler, about 7 miles from Steinwenden.

February 17, 1689 – baptized Joes (Joannes) Severinus, legitimate son of Melchioris Clemens & Anna Maria, his lawfully wed wife of Stenweiller. Godparents: Joes (Joannes) Valentinus Brenler; Severinus Clemens, both of Ramstein & Anna Catharina of Stenweiller.
August 26, 1691 – baptized Anna Appolonia, legitimate daughter of Melchioris Cleman & Anna Maria, his lawfully wed wife of Stenweiller. Godparents: Jacob Crentz & Anna Margreta both of Stenweiller.

Appolonia’s marriage was also recorded in this church in 1712:

On the 26th of May 1712, no impediments having been found, were married in the church before witnesses the honorable young man Joes (Joannes) Nicolaus Heller, legitimate son of the honorable Thomas Heller & Catharina his wife of Reweiler with the virgin, Anna Appolonia, legitimate daughter of the honorable Melchioris Clemens of Stenweiler.

The rest of the children were baptized in the Catholic Church in Ramstein, about 4 miles in the opposite direction from Steinwenden.

May 4, 1694 – the Sunday after Easter was baptized the legitimate son: Joannem Sepherinum Clement, born of the honorable parents: Melchiori Clement & Anna Maria. Godparents from Steinweiler: Sepherinus Clement of Ramstein and his wife, Anna Magdalena, both Catholics & the honorable young man, Carolus Schlosser, Calvinist of Steinweiler.

It’s very unusual to find a protestant acting as the godparent for a Catholic child.

Twenty-one years later, we find this child’s marriage record as well.

On the 22nd of January 1715 were married Severus Clemens of Steinwenden & Margareta Catharina Zinsmeisterin of the same Steinwenden.

December 3, 1697 – baptized Reginam Catharinam, legitimate daughter of the honorable married couple Melchioris Clemens, hunter & Anna Maria his wife. Godparents: Joes (Joannes) Jacobo Breull, young man & Regina Catharina Steurin, both of Ramstein.
September 29, 1700 – Baptized Anna Christina, legitimate daughter of Melchioris Clemens & Anna Maria, his lawfully wed wife. Godparents: Lady Anna Christina, famous nobleman and the famous Lord Ernesti Schmedding,?

We find Anna Christina’s marriage as well. These children were clearly raised Catholic.

On the 4th of November 1722 were married, Jacobus, legitimate son of the deceased Theodorici Wuest of Obermohr & Christina, legitimate daughter of the late Melchioris Clemens of Steinwenden.

It would normally be unusual that more of Anna Maria’s siblings did not stand up with her children when baptized, but given the religious split, the fact that there were any Protestant godparents at all is rather amazing. What does surprise me is that Anna Maria’s mother wasn’t a godparent, which suggests that the rift between mother and daughter might have been quite wide and deep after Anna Maria’s switch to Catholicism.

I do wonder what the occupation of hunter for Melchior entailed at that time.

On the first of July 1713 died Michael (Melchior) Clemens of Steinwenden and was buried in the cemetery there.

We don’t know how old Melchior was, but if he was about the same age as his wife, he would probably have been about 20 when he married in 1685, so 48-50 at his death. I wonder if his occupation had something to do with his demise.

I also wonder why Michael wasn’t buried in consecrated holy ground, given that he was Catholic. It was noted that he was buried in Steinwenden – and I’m presuming this would have been in the Protestant church cemetery. There was no Catholic church in Steinwenden at that time.

It appears that all 5 of Anna Maria’s children lived, the last being born just half a year or so before Anna Ursula’s death. I wonder what happened to Anna Maria after Melchior’s death. I found no further records.

Carl Schlosser

Born in October 1664, Hans Carl Schlosser, son of late Cunrad Schlosser, married Agnes Hunan in Steinwenden on January 27, 1701, just about 6 weeks before the deaths of his mother, sister and brother. Carl died on January 16, 1731, just 11 days short of his 30^th anniversary, aged 66 years and about 3 months.

This is Anna Ursula’s only son who reached adulthood and had children. Carl married late in life, age 37, but at least Anna Ursula had the opportunity to see him married. Unless she was grievously ill, I’m sure she attended.

Unfortunately, Anna Ursula did not live long enough to greet any of Carl’s children:

December 18, 1701 – Anna Regina died immediately after baptism, Godparents: Hanss George Deysinger, Anna Christina, wife of Wilhelm Pfeiffer from Weltersbach, Regina, wife of Johann Nickkel Haffner from Limbach.
December 24, 1702 – Anna Margaretha Schlosser, was baptized quickly and died soon afterwards. Same Godparents as above.
July 29, 1705 – Anna Ursula, Godparents: Johann Wigant, legitimate son of Philipp Dulman, miller in Glan-Munchweiler, Anna Ursula legitimate daughter of the late Andreas Rabe of Stenweiler, Anna Elisabeth legitimate daughter of Wilhelm Pfeiffer of Weltersbach.

Now, of course, I’m wondering about whether or not Anna Ursula Rabe was named after our Anna Ursula, and if those two women are related in some fashion.

Finally, 4 years later, a child lived.

August 19, 1708 – Anna Catharina, Godparents: Catharina Barbara, daughter of Philipp Cullmann, miller in Munchweiler; Anna Apollonia, daughter of Melchior Kleemanns (Clemens) from Steinwenden; Wilhelm, legitimate son of Hanss Wilhelm Berny from Steinwenden.
March 17, 1711 – Maria Barbara, Godparents: Maria Lysbeth, wife of Simon Friess, smith in Steinwenden; Catharina Barbara, daughter of Philipp Cullmann, miller from Munchweiler; Theobald Lang from Steinwenden.
November 12, 1713 – Regina Catharina, Godparents: Margaretha Catharina, daughter of Jacob Zinssmeister from Steinwenden; Regina Elisabeth, Tobias; Johann Michel, legitimate son of Jacob Crentz from Steinwenden. This child died on October 8, 1724 at age 11.
November 26, 1716 – Johannes, Godparents: Johannes Schlecht, carpenter from Steinwenden; Samuel Kirch from Weltersbach; Maria Madl., wife of Bartel Deisinger from Steinwenden; Barbara, wife of Theobald Lang of Steinwenden. This child died on March 20, 1720 at age 4.
September 24, 1719 – Anna Margreth, Godparents: Anna Margreth, surviving widow of Michel Jung of Steinwenden; Andreas Zinssmeister, son of Jacob Zinssmeister of Steinwenden; Seibert Clemens of Steinwenden.

It appears that 4 of 8 children born lived, or at least we don’t find death records. That mortality rate was normal at the time, but it breaks my heart just to think about losing any children, let alone that many – half.

Anna Ursula Schlosser married to Johann Calman Hoffbauer

Anna Ursula (the daughter) was married on June 26, 1696 in Steinwenden.

March 17, 1697 – Baptism of Johan Carl, Parents: Calman/Culman Hoffbauer & Anna Ursula from Steinwenden. Godparents: Hanss Carl Schlosser; Eva Ersabeta Hoffbauerin, ?.

February 13, 1698, Johann Culman Hoffbauer, master shoemaker, age 26, was buried.

Anna Ursula wasn’t even married 2 years before she was left a young widow with a baby who would celebrate his first birthday without his father.

Hans Peter Schlosser

The burial record for Hans (probably Johann) Peter Schlosser on July 31, 1691, Anna Ursula’s son, tells us that he was age 11 at his death. He was one of Anna Ursula’s youngest children, if not the youngest, and would have been born about 1680.

With this child’s death, Anna Ursula may have lost her baby. However, based on the death records, if the years are accurate, Hans Peter and Johannes who died in 1701 the week after his mother may have been twins.

Living Children (When Anna Ursula Died)

Even though Anna Ursula clearly had more children than the records in Steinwenden indicate, it appears that only 7 lived long enough to be recorded in the Steinwenden church. Of the surviving children, two died in 1701 in the same month as Anna Ursula.

Anna Ursula may have buried daughter Irene Charitas as well.
The fate of daughter, Anna Ursula, is unknown along with that of Irene Charitas.
At Anna Ursula’s death, only daughter Anna Maria is known positively to be alive.
Anna Ursula buried her son, Hans Peter, in 1691, three years before her husband’s death.
Anna Ursula’s son, Johannes died a week after she did.
I strongly suspect the death of her daughter, Anna Catharina, two weeks prior and her son, Johannes, a week later were somehow connected with the cause of Anna Ursula’s death.
Anna Ursula’s only other son, Carl, lived until 1731.

Chronology

I wanted to assemble a chronology of Anna Ursula’s life in Steinwenden. Based on the church records, we actually know what she was doing on certain days. I’ve tried to bracket similar events. Happy event rows are peach colored. Sad events are blue. As you can see, a great many are bracketed together with a birth and death following in short order. Yellow rows are the only grandchildren who lived. Of course, those are very happy events!

Putting these events in chronological order made me realize just how difficult and grief-filled Anna Ursula’s life was. The sad fact is that this was probably somewhat “normal” for the time. Life was extremely difficult for our ancestors. Some days I’m amazed that against the odds, I exist at all.

Anna Ursula’s children are noted in green at the top in the white rows. At Anna Ursula’s death, only two children, in green, were living except for Johannes, at the bottom, who died a week later. At least she didn’t have to bury him. It’s unknown if the two daughters in teal were living at Anna Ursula’s death

Anna Ursula only lived for a total of 16 years after church records began chronicling her life.

In that time, she:

Buried her husband in 1694 (grey)
Buried her son in 1691 (red)
Buried her daughter in 1701 (red)
Possibly buried a second daughter between 1692 and 1695 (teal)
Buried 2 son-in laws (gold) in 1695 and 1698, seeing one if not two daughters widowed
Buried at least 5 grandchildren (light blue rows not otherwise marked)
Died perhaps knowing a second son would probably perish as well, which he did a week later (red)

Take a look at July of 1791. In 8 days Anna Ursula’s daughter lost two children, and Anna Ursula lost her own son two days later. Three deaths and burials in 10 days. That’s beyond brutal.

Looking at the death index for 1691, we don’t see an epidemic, so it appears that these three deaths were clustered in this family, and only this family. On June 1, 1691, 6 weeks before the 3 Schlosser deaths in 10 days, Johann Michael Mueller’s cousin, Hans Jacob Ringeysen, died as well at age 37. He may have been living near this extended family group.

During the 16 years in Steinwenden church records, Anna Ursula’s daughter, Irene Charitas buried at least 5 children plus her husband, leaving her, best case, with a 2 year, 3 month old child. Worst case, Anna Ursula’s daughter, Irene Charitas, had also died during that time.

While I’m sure that Anna Ursula was thrilled that her namesake daughter was married on June 26, 1696, and had a child on March 17, 1697, she would have been devastated when her daughter’s husband died 11 months later, leaving her youngest daughter a widow with a small child.

How would Anna Ursula have helped her widowed daughters, given that she was already a widow herself?

Perhaps she depended on her eldest son, Carl, who hadn’t yet married. At this point, in 1698 it’s entirely possible that the following people were living in one household together, simply trying to pool their resources and put food on the table:

Anna Ursula, then 65
Her oldest son, Carl, then about 35
Daughter Irene Charitas in her early 30s (if she was living) with son Johann Michael Muller, age 6
Daughter Anna Ursula in her 20s, a widow with an infant boy
Daughter Anna Catharina, about 37, having never married
Youngest son Johannes, about 18

I cannot imagine this was a happy family under the circumstances.

Anna Ursula’s dance with tragedy didn’t end in 1698 with her son-in-law’s death. She may have been estranged from her only other married daughter, Anna Maria.

Anna Ursula’s daughter, Anna Maria, became Catholic about 1689, which may have effectively left her dead to her mother. There is no way to know today, more than 300 years hence how icy that relationship became, or if it ever thawed. Anna Ursula did not name a daughter after her mother or a son after her father, nor did either parent stand up with her children as a godparent.

Estrangement is also a form of death, sometimes more painful because it is a choice.

What Happened in 1701?

Anna Ursula’s adult daughter, Anna Catharina, died twelve days before Anna Ursula’s death in 1701 and her son, Johannes, a week after her death. What killed these people?

Anna Ursula would have been 68 years old when she died, a long life for that time in history. Her daughter, age 40 and her son, only 21, also perished in that horrible March of 1701. Did that leave her daughter, Anna Ursula, widowed 4 years almost to the day before her mother’s death, again homeless with her child? Had daughter Anna Ursula remarried and moved on, or died? We simply don’t know.

Checking FamilySearch church records for deaths in Steinwenden in 1701, we don’t find many.

In total, there is one death in January and one on February 21^st, 1701 but that woman was born in 1615 and was elderly.

Beware the ides of March.

The next 3 deaths in the church records are the Schlosser family members:

March 3, 1701 – Anna Catharina Schlosser born 1661, father Cunrad Schlosser
March 15, 1701 – Anna Ursula Schlosser born 1633, widow of Cunrad Schlosser
March 22, 1701 – Johannes Schlosser born 1680, father Cunrad Schlosser

Given that these three individuals all died in less than 3 weeks, but no one else in the village died during that time, I’d wager that we weren’t dealing with something like the flu, but instead with something fatal but localized. Dysentery is a virus and highly contagious. Typhoid is bacterial, but is also highly contagious and can be passed from person to person. Cholera is caused by water contaminated by fecal matter and is contagious as well, but perhaps not as highly so as Dysentery and Typhoid. Food poisoning has been suggested as another possibility.

Was this the same thing that struck a decade earlier, in July of 1791, killing three family members in 10 days then as well? I wonder if the church records for other time periods carry similar tales for other families. What was going on in Steinwenden?

I find it very strange that three people in the same household died in less than 3 weeks, including a young (presumably healthy) male age 21, but no other deaths occurred in the community. German farm villages were organized such that the houses were built against each other in the town, generally walls adjoining. Everyone used the same water supply and there was little space between neighbors.

This contemporary photo of Steinwenden, shows the way that houses were constructed at that time on the same street with the Protestant church, which would be located in the historic part of town.

In the above satellite view, the village isn’t terribly large, even today, and the cemetery may well be located behind the church. Note that the older buildings across the street to the right of the church, on the corner, are the same white side-by-side Raisch buildings as pictured above.

The undated photo above of historic Mutterstadt in the early 1900s, a village in the same region of Germany, shows the way that houses were traditionally constructed in villages. Side by side, with the farmers going outside the village to tend their fields each day. It would be very unusual for something contagious to strike only one family.

Were these deaths really just bad luck? That’s difficult to believe.

The next death in the 1701 church records isn’t until August, and there are only two more for the entire year. The Schlosser family experienced 3/8^th or nearly half of the deaths in the entire village that year in March.

Perhaps we don’t know the full story. This makes me wonder about other scenarios. What happened to this family in 1691 and 1701 that didn’t happen to any other family? Sadly, the church records stand stubbornly mute.

Regardless of the cause of death, it was a very difficult time for this family.

Still, I can’t help but wonder what actually happened. I surely wish the minister had recorded a cause of death. A few strokes of the pen would make all of the difference.

Anna Ursula’s Mitochondrial DNA

Anna Ursula’s mitochondrial DNA would be available to us today through her female children through a continuous line of females until the current generation, which can be male.

Did Anna Ursula have any female children that had female children?

Of all of the children born to Anna Ursula Schlosser, only daughter Anna Maria who married Melchior Clemens (Clements) had daughters that lived at least long enough to marry.

August 26, 1691 – Anna Appolonia Clemens, Godparents: Jacob Crentz & Anna Margreta both of Stenweiller. In the Catholic church of Glan-Munchweiler.

On May 26, 1712, Joes (Joannes) Nicolaus Heller, son of Thomas Heller and Catharina his wife of Reweiler, with the virgin, Anna Appolonia, daughter of Melchioris Clemens of Stenweiler.

December 3, 1697 – baptism of Reginam Catharinam Clemens, Godparents: Joes (Joannes) Jacobo Breull, young man & Regina Catharina Steurin, both of Ramstein. In the Catholic church in Ramstein.
September 29, 1700 – Anna Christina Clemens, Godparents: Lady Anna Christina, famous nobleman and the famous Lord Ernesti Schmedding, ?. In the Catholic church in Ramstein.

On November 4, 1722, Christina, daughter of the late Melchioris Clemens of Steinwenden married Jacobus Wuest of Obermohr in the Catholic church of Ramstein.

At least two of Anna Ursula’s granddaughters married, as noted above, increasing the chances of female descendants.

I find no records of these daughters, but that doesn’t mean they don’t exist. Ancestry shows trees that spell Heller as Keller. Three daughters are shown, with daughter Anna Katharina Keller born in 1714 and dying in 1783. Perhaps someone connects.

We have three candidates for maternal lines to carry the mitochondrial DNA of Anna Ursula, and I have a DNA testing scholarship for anyone descended from these three daughters through all females to the current generation. In the current generation, males and females both can test because women contribute their mitochondrial DNA to all of their children, but only females pass it on. Therefore, male children carry their mother’s mitochondrial DNA – and that of their direct line female ancestors.

In Summary

It’s rather amazing how much we discovered about Anna Ursula Schlosser, despite not having any church baptismal records for her or her children. We’re quite fortunate to have Anna Ursula’s death record. Maybe some of Anna Ursula lives on today in the DNA of her descendants!

______________________________________________________________

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Leapfrogging: Should We Believe Our Elders? – 52 Ancestors #180

Posted on January 21, 2018 by Roberta Estes

You might notice that weekends are normally when I publish my 52 ancestor stories – and this isn’t exactly a normal 52 Ancestors story – but it pertains. Trust me for a minute.

Halt the Presses

This is what happens when you THINK you have correct information for your ancestor – or any topic really – and for some reason, you discover that you don’t.

Generally, the reasons fall into three categories:

New information not previous available
Misinterpreted information, sometimes based on incomplete information
Incorrect information from “elders”

The reason the 52 Ancestors story I had planned for today isn’t publishing is a result of items 1 and 2. Fortunately for genealogists today, records previously buried in dusty cellars and church books in tiny villages are now being imaged and indexed along with other information relevant to rebuilding our ancestor’s lives.

While it’s irritating to have written an entire article and THEN discover something new – it’s actually a VERY POSITIVE outcome, because the new information was a wonderful development as the result of their spouses’ article published last week.

So while I need to rewrite this week’s and the original article, I will write with gratitude!

The third situation, incorrect information from elders, is a bit more awkward – and yes, I’ve been tripped up with that one too.

Who Are The Elders Anyway?

In most every culture, the elders are those who have lived long enough to amass wisdom – or they are more focused on a particular subject. In traditional societies, these might be healers, shamans or hunters.

Today, the genealogical elders might be individuals focused on genealogy, genetic genealogy specialists, or the people in our own family who are literally, older, who know more about our family because they knew their grandparents who passed away long before we were born.

Additionally, because we all begin as novices, book authors and people who already have trees online are perceived as “elders” in this sense, because they have more experience than the novice. This extends to other people on social media, whether they have any expertise at all. It’s impossible for the novice to tell.

Uncle George – The Good Elder

Let me give you an example.

My father died when I was a child and his family lived in another state 500 miles distant. I didn’t know any of his side of the family until as a young adult, I decided I wanted to find out if there were any living family members. I literally called the telephone “operator” and told her to connect me to any Estes in Tazewell, Tennessee. I remember her asking, “But which one, there are several?” I was excited!

The operator selected an Estes at random and a couple phone calls later, I was talking to Uncle George who everyone assured me knew all about the genealogy of the Estes family. Indeed, he was the family elder I needed to connect with. He told me he had known my grandfather, Will Estes. He refrained from telling me the juicy details. At that time, I didn’t even know there were juicy details about my grandfather. I would learn about those later from one of the crazy aunts.

A few months later, I went to visit Uncle George, who was not my uncle at all, but my first cousin once removed. The term “Uncle” in that part of the country is a term of endearment showing respect and kinship with someone.

Uncle George was kind enough to share his recollections with me, along with photos, dates and burial locations. He was the collector of such things, the family archivist. It’s somehow ironic that Uncle George had no biological offspring, although he was very fond of his second wife’s children.

At this point in my life, I wasn’t a genealogist, or at least I didn’t realize I was. It’s a sneaky addiction you know! A slippery slope and once you’re there, it’s too late to do anything about it. If you are reading this article, you very clearly know whereof I speak😊

Leapfrog Knowledge

When I met Uncle George and his brother, Uncle Buster, both of whom I adored, Uncle George was in his 70s and we were separated by almost half a century.

That means that he was in every sense my elder and looked uncannily like my father – so much so that when he opened the door the day I met him for the first time – I stood on the step literally dumbstruck, seeing the ghost of my two decades deceased father.

Uncle George and me in the back of his pickup truck.

We sat on the couch during my visit, side by side as he pulled one note and photo after another out of “the box” and shared them with me, recounting the story of each one. I was transported back in time.

He told me that he was quite young, but that he remembered standing at the graveside of his grandfather, my great-grandfather, Lazarus Estes when he was buried in 1918. He asked, “Do you want me to take you there?” Now remember, I wasn’t a genealogist yet – but I truly believe it’s right about here in the story that I was infected with this lifelong affliction.

I excitedly said yes, and off we went – to view a grave WITH NO HEADSTONE.

How many of your ancestors’ graves are unmarked? What would it be worth to you to go with someone who had stood at that grave when they were buried and knew exactly where it was located?

This is what I’m referring to as leapfrogging. That happens when you find someone old enough that they have personal knowledge of incidents and people at least two and sometime three generations before your own available family memories.

In my case, I had no memories available to harvest, except for the Crazy Aunts who we’ll mention in a minute, because my father had died. Finding Uncle George who had carefully taken notes was a godsend.

His personal knowledge was remarkable. Of course, I wish desperately now I had asked more questions – so many more questions.

Uncle George is who told me about the cabin that burned, and with it, my father’s brother. He planted the willow tree on the spot where that cabin once stood. And where I later stood too, grieving a half century later for my grandparents and that poor child.

Uncle George knew both Lazarus Estes and Elizabeth Vannoy Estes, my great-grandparents. Granted, they were old when he was young, but he could take me to where their cabin stood, show me where they dipped their water with a gourd from the stream and tell me about what his father told him as well.

Uncle George’s father, Charlie Tomas (yes, it’s really spelled that way) knew his parents of course, but he also knew his grandparents, in particular, his grandmother Ruthy Dodson Estes who died in 1903 when Charlie would have been 18. It’s because Charlie shared this knowledge with Uncle George that we knew that she suffered terribly from rheumatoid arthritis and had to be carried from her cabin to Lazarus’ when she could no longer care for herself. It’s through Charlie that we knew where Ruthy’s unmarked grave was located as well.

Ruthy’s husband, John Y. Estes didn’t die until 1895, but he left Tennessee for Texas before Charlie was born, so Charlie would never have known him.

This leapfrogging begins to break down here, but we’ve connected in some tangible way with George acquiring either first or second hand knowledge of people born in 1820.

Furthermore, Uncle George knew that his great-great-grandmother’s name was Nancy Ann Moore. He was accurate. How do I know? Because I found their marriage license in Halifax County Virginia from 1811 some years later. Because Uncle George knew her name, I knew I had the right John Estes in Halifax County and that allowed me to search further and connect back in time to earlier generations – breaking through the brick wall of how my Estes line connected to the descendants of Abraham Estes.

Uncle George’s recorded notes leapfrogged back in time from the 1980s to 1811, an amazing 170 years!

What didn’t Uncle George know?

He didn’t know where the family came from in Virginia, but he unknowingly held the piece of information that allowed me to make that discovery.

He didn’t know where John R. Estes who had died in 1887 was buried, although he presumed it was in the family cemetery. At least Uncle George TOLD me he was presuming.

This is the important distinction.

I didn’t know enough about genealogy at that point to understand what to ask. He knew enough to tell me and thankfully, I heard him.

When interviewing elders, it’s important to discern what they know and how, as opposed to what they are inferring based on other knowledge, and it’s critical to record what they say verbatim. By that time, I had finished college, so note-taking was second nature – thankfully. I find my notes from those conversations that include items I’d forgotten, and I know at the time I thought I’d never forget – but I did.

As I read back over my notes from my visits with Uncle George, I discovered that I had forgotten things that seemed unimportant at the time, but were valuable puzzle pieces later when I had a clue.

To the best of my knowledge, Uncle George never provided me with a piece of inaccurate information. In some cases, he didn’t know all of the details, which I later discovered, but they never disproved what he had told me.

But then, there were the Crazy Aunts.

The Crazy Aunts

The crazy Aunts were elders too when I met them, about the same time. They were my father’s sisters.

Uncle George didn’t forewarn me that the aunts were crazy. He didn’t tell me that they um, created or embellished stories with added drama, at will, it seems.

Now, I do have to admit, some of their stories did turn out to be true, and ALL OF THEM were quite interesting. Sometimes far more interesting than the truth.

Of particular interest to me was the “fact” that Elizabeth Vannoy was “half Cherokee through her mother and her brothers moved to Oklahoma and claimed head rights.”

That’s a lot of very specific information.

And guess what?

None of it was true.

I’ve tracked down every bit and disproven that entire statement, piece by piece, including genetically through Y DNA and mitochondrial haplogroups and ethnicity tests of descendants. Elizabeth Vannoy was not half Cherokee. Her family wasn’t even living in the right location, to begin with, and the evidence continues from there.

This isn’t the only instance of receiving incorrect information from the aunts.

However, Aunt Margaret did indeed provide me with family photos, none of which I had or would have had without her generosity.

This begs the question of whether Aunt Margaret was conveying something she was told or whether she was playing fast and free with the truth, or maybe conveying the story as she wanted it to be.

I don’t have the answer to that.

What I do know is that I believed it for a very long time. I know that my father believed it too.

Verifying Elder’s Stories

Stories conveyed by the elders are absolutely invaluable. However, we have to evaluate every piece of that information individually, divorcing ourselves from the emotions we hold for tellers.

Yes, we know that you love grandpa and you can’t conceive of grandpa every lying to you – but maybe grandpa didn’t tell a Pinocchio. Maybe he told the truth as he believed it. Maybe he only modified the facts a tidbit to protect someone – perhaps you.

For example, when I was young, there was a sign in front of our house that said “colored people not allowed.” Colored meant me…because my father’s family was “dark” and my father firmly believed that he was indeed Indian, attending to Powwows held in secret at that time because they were illegal.

Was he partly Indian? Yes, I do believe so, based on a variety of evidence.

Was his grandmother half Indian through her mother who was 100% Cherokee? No, unquestionably not, including mitochondrial DNA evidence that shows her haplogroup as J1c2c! That European mitochondrial haplogroup alone proved unquestionably that her matrilineal line is not Native. Her father’s haplogroup I is also European.

Perhaps that tidbit conveyed by the crazy aunts substituted Native for African. Perhaps their parents or grandparents, in the early 1900s were trying to explain why they were so dark and trying to protect their family from rampant “zero tolerance” discrimination.

We will never know today. What I do know, and can prove is that the information provided by the aunts was inaccurate. I cannot speak to the intention.

Talk, Record, Share, Correct

This brings me back to my commentary about my 52 Ancestors stories. I need to correct two stories already in print and delay one that was scheduled to be published today – because I need to correct information based on newly discovered facts.

However, those facts would never have come my direction had I NOT published what I had, with sources and references.

I’ve heard a number of people say that they don’t share trees or stories because they aren’t “finished” or they are afraid of perpetuating bad information. I share that concern, but imagine if Uncle George hadn’t shared what he knew with me.

That information would be gone today, forever irretrievable.

Here’s my advice.

Do your best.
Verify as much as possible.
Share your sources and your research path.
Document what you can and state clearly what you do not know, items that need followup or areas where you are suspicious, and why
Negative evidence is still evidence. For example, “I checked and John Doe is not in the marriage/death/court/deed/will/probate records in XYZ County between 1850 and 1900.” That provides invaluable information, even though you didn’t find any documents. It’s not at all the same as not having checked.
Correct the stories or narrative as soon as you discover either an error or something new.

We believe our elders because when we find them, they are more knowledgeable than we are. They have the benefit of time and sometimes location and there is no reason for us to NOT believe them. After all, they are the ones we are turning to.

Like everyone, elders, no matter how much we love and respect them, are human, and they convey what they were told. We can’t go back in time and evaluate why their elders thought or said what they did. We don’t know if someone assumed that an individual was buried someplace or knew it by standing at their graveside. And we don’t know if they got information from the equivalent of Uncle George or a Crazy Aunt.

We also don’t know what was omitted, or why.

For a long time, I believed that John Y. Estes must surely be buried in the Estes Cemetery too, between his parents, wife and deceased children. It made perfect sense. That is…until I discovered quite by accident that he left his family in Estes Holler in Claiborne County Tennessee, walked to Texas (twice) not long after his youngest child was born and was in fact buried in the Boren Cemetery the middle of a field in Montague County, Texas in 1895. Imagine my surprise making this discovery, which, by the way, I verified in person, taking the photo of his headstone myself in 2004.

None of the elders told me that really important tidbit. Could be because they didn’t “know,” but somehow I think it might have had more to do with the “d” word. Divorce. Or maybe because he left his family. It could also have something to do with the fact that he fought for the confederacy in the Civil War while most of the neighbors and family fought for the north. Or maybe some combination of the two made him easy to forget.

The other glaring omission is that Joel Vannoy, father of Elizabeth Vannoy, who died in 1895 was institutionalized in an “insane asylum” for “preachin’, swearin’ and threatenin’ to fight.” Lazarus transported him to the asylum in Knoxville, and everyone in “Estes Holler” which connected with “Vannoy Holler” was aware of the situation. It was no secret at the time, as I later discovered. Uncle George’s father, Charlie clearly knew this, and knew Joel as well. I surely wish Uncle George had told me. He was a kind man and didn’t want to speak ill of anyone, alive or dead.

The Crazy Aunts would have told something that juicy in a heartbeat, so I’m going to presume they didn’t know! They weren’t raised in Estes Holler.

The truth is the truth, no matter how flattering or unflattering. Our ancestors are unique individuals, warts and all.

We hold a sacred duty to the ancestors to tell their stories, the truth, verified where possible by DNA evidence, because now WE have become those leapfrogging elders.

______________________________________________________________

Disclosure

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Conrad (Cunradt) Schlosser (1635-1694), Calvinist– 52 Ancestors #179

Posted on January 14, 2018 by Roberta Estes

Thanks to the combined efforts of cousin Richard Miller, my friend Tom, a retired genealogist who works with German records and blog commenter, Karen Parker, we know that Conrad Schlosser is the father of both Anna Ursula Schlosser and Irene Charitas Schlosser through the sisters’ 1689 confirmation record which refers to “Irene Charitas and Anna Ursula, Conrad Schlosser’s daughters from Steinwinden.”

Clearly, I wanted to build this family, so I checked Family Search where I have found several German Church records previously.

I found a record of Conrad’s death in the record search by surname. You can also search by location, date and record type, or a combination. If one doesn’t work, try another. Some indexed records will show up in one type of search, but not another, even though they should.

No record images are available though, as you can see beside the camera icon. Bummer!

But there’s a secret tool. This nifty work-around is thanks to Tom who was working on finding the images of these records before I even found the index.

First, A Secret Trick

Do you see the camera icon where it says “no image found?” Well, that’s not always true and images are often available, even when it says otherwise.

We’re going to use a different tool.

First, if you don’t have an account for FamilySearch.org, create one. You’ll need one in order to sign in.

Then, under the dropdown for “Search” select “Catalog.”

Enter the place name. In this case, I entered Steinwenden and it autofilled the rest of the information.

Click on the blue Search button that you’ll see below the place name.

Next, you’ll see the relevant records for Steinwenden. I’m selecting “Church records.”

I see two options, only one of which includes the dates I’m interested in that begin in 1684. Happy dance! Happy dance!

Click on that link.

Now we can view the actual records by film number, and look, the camera image at the right in the green box indicates that these records ARE imaged. They aren’t indexed, but you can use the information from the regular search to locate the information, then browse the images to find the specific record you seek.

Ok, now back to Conrad.

Conrad’s Death

Conrad, Cunrad or Cunradt, his name is spelled all 3 ways in different records, was buried on February 13, 1694, the day before the Feast of St. Valentine. That typically means he died the day before. Before the days of embalming, people were buried quickly although there would have been no rush in February. According to WeatherSpark, February 9^th is historically the coldest say in Steinwenden, and the temperature averages between 29 and 40 F. The ground probably wouldn’t have been frozen, so digging a grave wouldn’t have been a problem.

My friend, Tom, marked the entry with an X. How he reads and deciphers these records is utterly beyond me, but thankfully, he does. Conrad was age 59 at his death and so was therefore born in 1634 or 1635.

Conrad’s Family Revealed Through Death Records

But there’s more.

Next we discover that his wife’s name was Anna Ursula and she outlived him, departing this world on March 15, 1701.

Anna Ursula’s death record is shown above, but there’s more there too. Conrad and Anna Ursula’s daughter, Anna Catherina’s death is recorded just above Anna Ursula’s, passing away March 3rd.

Below Anna Ursula’s death entry we find even more.

Conrad and Anna Ursula had a son, Johannes Schlosser born in 1680 who died 8 days later, on March 22, 1701, never having married. His death entry is the one beneath his mother’s entry, above.

That was one ugly March.

Another son, Carl was born in 1660 and died in 1731.

Carl’s death is recorded in the index, as well as the actual church record, below. Sometimes deaths appear in the actual records that don’t know in the Family Search indexes.

A third son, Hans Peter, probably Johann Peter, was buried on July 31, 1691, having died at age 11. He would have been born about 1680, probably not long before the family immigrated to Steinwenden from Switzerland. It’s possible that Johannes and Hans Peter were twins, but more likely that the birth year is off because only the general age of death is given in the church record, not the actual birth year.

The 31^st of July 1691 was buried in Steinwenden, Hans Peter Schlosser, son of Cunradt, aged about 11 years. Steinwenden Ev-Ref Kirche, BA (Homburg), Bavaria

Unfortunately, none of these records tell us where the Schlosser family originated or the occupation of Conrad.

Church and Graveyard

I would bet that Conrad is buried in the churchyard in Steinwenden. If the graves were marked at the time with more than a wooden cross, one wouldn’t be able to locate them today, because burial plots are reused in Europe. In some cases, family members are simply buried on top of or in the same place as an earlier ancestor. In other cases, the bones are removed to an ossuary to continue to their return to dust, freeing up the grave space for others, perhaps unrelated, to be buried. Customs and actual usage vary by location.

The church today in the center of Steinwenden was built in 1852, long after Conrad died, but the original church was probably located in the same location, and if not, certainly nearby. Keeping in mind that when Conrad and the Swiss immigrants settled in Steinwenden, there were only 6 families in residence, and one of those 6 could have been Conrad since we don’t know exactly when he arrived although it looks like it might have been in the spring of 1685. Six families, 25 people, and a church whose records begin in 1684!

Catholics and Protestants

Speaking of the church, this family has a somewhat unusual religious mixture.

On April 28, 1685, when Conrad would have been 50 years old, his daughter, Anna Maria married Melchior Clemens in Steinwenden. The typical marriage location was the church of the bride if the church of the bride and groom were different – assuming they were both of the same religious sect – meaning Catholic or Protestant.

In this case, the only church in Steinwenden was a protestant church which implies that both the bride and groom were protestant.

Anna Maria’s first child was born and baptized in this church on January 31, 1686, but then the unthinkable happened. Anna Maria apparently converted to Catholicism, because their subsequent children were baptized in the Catholic church in either Glan-Munchweiler, about 7 miles distant, or Ramstein, about 3 miles distant in the opposite direction.

Children cannot be baptized in the Catholic church unless both parents are Catholic.

Typically, the godparents must be Catholic too, given that the duty of the godparents is to raise the child in the event that something happens to both parents, and raise that child in the Catholic religion.

However, in this case, an exception was made for some reason. We have no way of knowing whether the churches in this region were relatively lax, or something else came into play, but regardless, an exception was made.

Ironically, it’s those Catholic church records that provide insight into Conrad Schlosser’s religion.

Calvinists

In 1694, Carl Schlosser, Conrad’s son and the brother of Anna Maria Schlosser Clemens stood up as the godfather in the Ramstein Catholic church for the son of his sister, Anna Maria. Carl is noted in the Catholic church record as “the honorable young man, Carolus Schlosser, Calvinist of Steinweiler.” Carolus is the Latin form of Carl. Honorable in this context probably means that his parents were married at his birth, but still, this record of a protestant standing up for a Catholic child at baptism is quite unusual.

This baptism occurred on May 9^th, less than 2 months after Carl and Anna Maria had buried their father, Conrad, recorded for posterity (and grateful descendants) in the Steinwenden church records. Might this recent death have softened the resolve of the priest in Ramstein, or perhaps the reason the baptism took place in Ramstein is because that church was more lenient that the Catholic church in Glan-Munchweiler where the previous three children had been baptized.

At that time in Germany, the protestant church consisted of two branches. Beginning in the 1500s, many Germans accepted the teachings of Martin Luther (1483-1546) and the Evangelical or Lutheran church was formally established in 1531, breaking from the Catholic church.

Another group of protestants who accepted the creed of the Swiss Calvinist reformers eventually became members of the Evangelical Reformed Church which broke with the Catholic church about 1530.

Calvinists were named such by the Lutherans who opposed the sect referring to French reformer John Calvin (1509-1564). It was a common practice in the churches of the day to name what they perceived to be heresy after the founder of the heretical movement. Hence, Calvinism.

While the Calvinists and Lutherans were both protestant sects, they viewed each other as heretics and the Catholics thought both sects were heretical.

By SCZenz at the English language Wikipedia, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=10547367

John Calvin (born Jehan Cauvin in France) preached at the St. Pierre Cathedral, the main church in Geneva. Of course, by the time that Conrad Schlosser was born in 1634, Calvin had been deceased for 70 years and the Schlosser family would have been learning the tenets of the faith from ministers of the Calvinist faith.

This tells us something of the Schlosser family history in the 100 years before Conrad’s birth, since the 1530s. The Schlossers had been separated from the Catholic faith for 100 years or less, about 4 generations. In that time, someone converted to Calvinism.

Calvinists differ from Lutherans on the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist, theories of worship and the use of God’s Law for believers. For example, Calvinists of the time believed that Christ is actually present at the Lord’s supper, in spirit, but present just the same, as opposed to those who believed that the supper simply serves as a reminder of Christ’s death. Confession was also a part of the Calvinist faith.

Calvinist religious refugees poured into Geneva Switzerland, especially from France during the 1550s. In Switzerland, protestant churches were typically Calvinist, while Lutherans were found more in northern Germany. This further points to the Schlosser family’s Swiss origins and raises the possibility of French origins before that.

The Calvinists were known for simple unadorned churches and lifestyles, as show in this painting by Emanuel de Witte from about 1661, only a couple decades before our Calvinist Schlosser family is found in Steinwenden.

5 Points of Calvinism

The 5 points of Calvinism, referred to as TULIP, are as follows, according to Wikipedia’s article on Calvinism:

The central assertion of these points is that God saves every person upon whom he has mercy, and that his efforts are not frustrated by the unrighteousness or inability of humans.

“Total depravity“, also called “total inability”, asserts that as a consequence of the fall of man into sin, every person is enslaved to sin. People are not by nature inclined to love God, but rather to serve their own interests and to reject the rule of God. Thus, all people by their own faculties are morally unable to choose to follow God and be saved (the term “total” in this context refers to sin affecting every part of a person, not that every person is as evil as they could be). This doctrine is derived from Augustine‘s explanation of Original Sin. While the phrases “totally depraved” and “utterly perverse” were used by Calvin, what was meant was the inability to save oneself from sin rather than being absent of goodness. Phrases like “total depravity” cannot be found in the Canons of Dort, and the Canons as well as later Reformed orthodox theologians arguably offer a more moderate view of the nature of fallen humanity than Calvin.
“Unconditional election” asserts that God has chosen from eternity those whom he will bring to himself not based on foreseen virtue, merit, or faith in those people; rather, his choice is unconditionally grounded in his mercy alone. God has chosen from eternity to extend mercy to those he has chosen and to withhold mercy from those not chosen. Those chosen receive salvation through Christ alone. Those not chosen receive the just wrath that is warranted for their sins against God.
“Limited atonement“, also called “particular redemption” or “definite atonement”, asserts that Jesus’s substitutionary atonement was definite and certain in its purpose and in what it accomplished. This implies that only the sins of the elect were atoned for by Jesus’s death. Calvinists do not believe, however, that the atonement is limited in its value or power, but rather that the atonement is limited in the sense that it is intended for some and not all. Some Calvinists have summarized this as “The atonement is sufficient for all and efficient for the elect.”
“Irresistible grace“, also called “efficacious grace”, asserts that the saving grace of God is effectually applied to those whom he has determined to save (that is, the elect) and overcomes their resistance to obeying the call of the gospel, bringing them to a saving faith. This means that when God sovereignly purposes to save someone, that individual certainly will be saved. The doctrine holds that this purposeful influence of God’s Holy Spirit cannot be resisted, but that the Holy Spirit, “graciously causes the elect sinner to cooperate, to believe, to repent, to come freely and willingly to Christ.” This is not to deny the fact that the Spirit’s outward call (through the proclamation of the Gospel) can be, and often is, rejected by sinners; rather, it’s that inward call which cannot be rejected.
“Perseverance of the saints” (also known as “perseverance of God with the saints” and “preservation of the believing”) (the word “saints” is used to refer to all who are set apart by God, and not of those who are exceptionally holy, canonized, or in heaven) asserts that since God is sovereign and his will cannot be frustrated by humans or anything else, those whom God has called into communion with himself will continue in faith until the end. Those who apparently fall away either never had true faith to begin with (1 John 2:19), or, if they are saved but not presently walking in the Spirit, they will be divinely chastened (Hebrews 12:5–11) and will repent (1 John 3:6–9).

The Wikipedia article contains a chart comparing Calvinism and Lutheranism. While to the Calvinists and Lutherans, I’m sure the differences were dramatic, today, they seem rather like unimportant details.

Conrad Schlosser might be rolling around in his grave right about now (if he still has one,) given what I just said!

Conrad’s Surname

The German name Schlosser translates to locksmith, fitter or metalworker, in English. This leads me to wonder what a locksmith would have done in the 1600s, in Germany or Switzerland.

Locksmiths were also metalworkers, which could have extended to other types of metalwork, including locks.

However, I did find one incredibly beautiful German lock and key that is about 400 years old.

A German locksmith, Peter Lenlein, has been credited with creating the first watch in the early 1500s, so locksmiths certainly existed by 1635 when Conrad was born. We don’t know when this family adopted surnames although surnames in Germany were in widespread usage before 1500. We will probably never know whether Conrad was a locksmith or not, but clearly at some point in his direct paternal line, someone was either a locksmith or worked with metal of some sort.

Conrad’s DNA

Conrad’s Y (paternal) DNA would have been carried by his sons. Of Conrad’s three sons born, only one lived to adulthood to marry and reproduce.

Carl Schlosser was buried on January 16, 1731, age 66 years and 3 months of age in Steinwenden. This record provides his birth in about October 1664, probably in Switzerland. Unfortunately, few Swiss records have been either transcribed or microfilmed.

Carl’s marriage at age 36 in January 27, 1701 is recorded in the Steinwenden church records, although 36 is somewhat late to marry.

Hans Carl Schlosser, son of the late Cunrad Schlosser of Steinwenden married Agnes, legitimate daughter of the late Hans Peter Hunen von Weisenheim.

Thankfully, Carl did marry, because even though he married late, he had a large number of children, which means there’s a prayer of a male Schlosser descendant for Y DNA testing today.

Carl and his wife set about having children right away, and continued for the next 20 years:

December 18, 1701 – baptism of Anna Regina Schlosser, daughter of Carl Schlosser and Agnes, died immediately after baptism. Carl’s sister, Regina Haffner was one of the godparents
December 24, 1702 – baptism of Anna Margaretha Schlosser, daughter of Carl Schlosser and Agnes, baptized quickly and died soon afterwards. Same godparents as 1701 child.
June 20, 1704 – baptism of Johann Michael Schlosser, son of Carl Schlosser and Agnes. Godparent was Elisabeth, wife of Johannes Muller, but we don’t know who this Johannes Muller was. Given that Irene Charitas Schlosser had married Johann Michael Mueller (deceased in 1694), this Johannes Mueller could be related, although he is probably not a son of Johann Michael Mueller. The only son of Johann Michael Mueller known to to survive was his namesake who was age 12 in 1704. However, the child’s given name was Johann Michael, so maybe.
July 29, 1705 – baptism of Anna Ursula Schlosser, daughter of Carl Schlosser and Agnes.
August 19, 1708 – baptism of Anna Catharina Schlosser, daughter of Carl Schlosser and Agnes.
March 17, 1711 – baptism of Maria Barbara, Schlosser, daughter of Carl Schlosser and Agnes.
November 12, 1733 – baptism of Regina Catharina Schlosser, daughter of Carl Schlosser and Agnes. On October 8, 1724, the burial of Regina was recorded in church records at age 11.
November 26, 1716 – baptism of Johannes Schlosser, son of Carl Schlosser and Agnes. On March 20, 1720, the burial was recorded in the church records for Johannes, age 4.
September 24, 1719 – baptism of Anna Margaretha Schlosser, daughter of Carl Schlosser and Agnes.

Unfortunately, only one of Carl’s sons survived, meaning that son’s descendants are our only prayer of finding a Schlosser male who carries Conrad’s Y chromosome today.

Equally as unfortunately, I can find no trace in the church records or at Ancestry of Johann Michael Schlosser after his birth.

Regardless of how you descend from this line, I’d love to hear from you.

Update: March 2018 – Irene Charitas was not a Schlosser, but a Heitz. Please see the followup articles.

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Irene Charitas Schlosser, Beware the Overlooked Umlat, 52 Ancestors #176

Posted on December 23, 2017 by Roberta Estes

One of the reasons I was initially hesitant to write these 52 Ancestors articles, (that were supposed to span one year, but are now beginning year 4) is because I didn’t want to publish something in error.

Years ago, I was speculating with a cousin, who subsequently published my speculation, and today, some 25 years later, I still fight that same information that turned out to be incorrect in trees every day. Or every day that I look at that ancestor’s parents anyway. And to think, I started that problem, albeit very innocently.

I’ve learned, so I really try to be precise and when I don’t know something, I say so. When there is a hint but no conclusion can be drawn, I say so.

Today is one of those really great days when hints have paid off. Furthermore, one of those 52 ancestor articles paid off too, because someone replied with an EXTREMELY valuable piece of information about an umlat. Yes, an umlat.

As it turns out, two little dots made all the difference in the world.

Irene Charitas

For years, Irene Charitas, the wife of Johann Michael Mueller (the first), was shown in trees with her last name being Charitas. That was as a result of misunderstanding German records where Charitas was her middle name.

I wrote about Irene Charitas Mueller here, or at least as much as I knew at the time.

Cousin Richard Miller, when he visited Steinwenden back in 1996 was provided with a translation and of an original record from 1689 in which a daughter of Conrad Schlosser was confirmed and Irene Charitas (then Miller) stood up for her as the godmother. At least that’s what we thought.

The original record is shown above, second from last, and below, the typed document provided to cousin Richard.

At this point, it was clear we might have a lead on a relative of Irene Charitas, but not more. We do know this group of pietist leaning families arrived in Steinwenden, Germany from Zollikofen, Switzerland sometime in the 1680s.

The Umlat

A week or so after the Michael Mueller article was published, and a week or so before the Irene Charitas article was published, a nice person named Karen Parker posted a comment on my blog. She says that the entry said that Irene Charitas and Anna Ursula are Conrad Schlosser’s daughters, as in plural. I’ve seen assumptions made before, so I asked if she could translate the record, and she did, stating the following:

Auf Ostern means “at Easter.”

u is the abbreviation for und, meaning “and.”

Tochter with an umlaut over the o, means “daughters.” (If there’s no umlaut of the o in Tochter, then it’s singular, “daughter.”)

von means “from.”

So it’s: “1689 at Easter. Irene Charitas and Anna Ursula, Conrad Schlosser’s daughters from Steinwinden”

In case you’re interested, in the entries below the ones for Easter, “Auf Weynachten” means “at Christmas,” and “Auf Pfingsten” means “at Pentacost.”

Don’t ask me how I managed to miss the significance of this, but I did. I would like to blame it on being distracted by two birthdays that week in the family, but that’s no excuse for missing something this critical to my genealogy. Not to mention, I owe Karen a huge debt of gratitude, and yes, I’ve e-mailed her to say such.

As it turns out, I owe my friend Tom, a second huge debt of thanks, because he is the one who saw the comment and realized its relevance for me. Not to mention he dropped everything, found original documents and translated them for me. I’m telling you what, this man is on Santa’s “good list!”

When I saw Tom’s e-mail arrive with the title “Irene Charitas,” I skipped right over everything else and jumped to that e-mail in which he called my attention to Karen’s comment.

An umlat!

A pesky umlat. Two little dots!

Have two dots ever been more important?

Of course, we don’t have umlats in English, and little did I understand the significance of that umlat, especially in this case – making a plural from a singular.

Here’s my reply to Tom:

So, Irene Charitas was originally Irene Charitas Schlosser. That helps.

One more cog in the wheel.

Now we know that Conrad was Irene Charitas’ father. I wonder what other entries are in those records for him. I wonder if his wife is mentioned in any of them.

I wonder if the fact that the wife isn’t mentioned in this record means his wife is dead at that time.

So many things to wonder.

So excited that one more piece of the puzzle falls into place.

Whoever would have thought an umlat would make that much difference!

Tom replied as follows:

Michael Muller is one of the godparents for the first child of Melchior Clemens and Anna Maria Schlosser, daughter of Conrad in a 1686 baptism. The child was named for him.

Conrad Schlosser’s wife is mentioned in another baptism. Her given names are Anna Ursula.

And there you have it, the surname and parents for Irene Charitas, after all of these years, all because of an overlooked umlat.

I’ve never been more grateful for an umlat! Or for Karen and Tom!

That Nagging Question

Do things ever nag at you? Is there sometimes just something that isn’t right, but you can’t put your finger on it?

There was for me with these records, when I realized that both Irene Charitas and her sister, apparently both confirmed in 1692, were not children. Irene Charitas was about 27, born about 1665, very clearly an adult, and Anna Ursula had to have been 13 or older for her mother to have given birth when she was 45 years of age or younger, although the mother’s last child appears to have been born when she was 47 years old.

Originally, I thought this record was a baptism. Tom pointed out to me that this was a confirmation, and confirmation in the Lutheran church is typically performed on young adults and is referred to as an “affirmation of baptism.” That helped put the record in context and explain why the people being confirmed, called confirmands or confirmants, were older.

Were both Irene Charitas and Anna Ursula being confirmed at the same time? It appears that way, although I initially thought that Irene as standing up for her sister, but after the retranslation, it doesn’t look that way. No witnesses are mentioned and the godparents would have stood up with the family at their earlier infant baptisms.

Next, I pondered the possibility that perhaps Irene and her sister had not been baptized as infants, but given the fact that the Lutheran church still wasn’t terribly far from its Catholic roots at this time in history, I doubt that seriously. All children were baptized.

The Catholic Irony

There’s a great irony here relative to Catholic roots. Irene Charitas Schlosser had a sister, Anna Maria who married Melchior Clemens in Steinwenden in 1685.

Anna Maria and Melchior had a child, Johann Michael Clemens, in Steinwenden who was christened on January 31, 1686. Johann Michael Mueller, Irene’s husband, was the child’s godfather, but then the unthinkable happened.

Apparently Melchior was Catholic, because their subsequent children were all baptized in the Catholic church.

Given that the godparent’s duty was to see that the child was raised and in particular, raised within the church in the event something happened to the parents, I wonder how that would have worked in this circumstance. Surely that means that Anna Maria became Catholic as well, so the family was officially divided. I have read records of other families in this region that never spoke again or even acknowledged that the “other” side of the family existed after part of the family “defected” to the dark side. By the way, the definition of “dark side” is based entirely on perception.

I want to say that all is well that ends well, but frankly, we don’t know how that ended and religion can be an extremely divisive topic, especially following shortly on the heels of the 30 Years War which ended in 1648 and ravaged the very land in Steinwenden that the Schlosser family settled on in the early 1680s.

More than 30 years later, Germany had been so depopulated during that war that much of its land still lay fallow, creating opportunity for these immigrant families, often escaping religious persecution elsewhere. Extreme hardship and displacement due to differences in religion and very strongly held views were fresh in everyone’s memory – if not still an everyday occurrence.

For a Lutheran family member to return to Catholicism might not have been well received.

However…Carl Schlosser, the brother of both Irene Charitas and Anna Maria was the godfather in 1694, in the Catholic church for the son of his sister, Anna Maria. He is noted in the Catholic church record as “the honorable young man, Carolus Schlosser, Calvinist of Steinweiler.” Honorable in this context probably means that his parents were married at his birth, but still, if the Catholics were willing to allow a “Calvinist” and Carl, “the Calvinist” was willing to stand up in a Catholic church with his sister and nephew – maybe the family relationship was just fine after all despite being members of different religious sects that had recently been at war.

I hope so. Life is hard enough without religious differences dividing families.

New DNA Possibilities

Along with newly discovered sisters come new possibilities for people who qualify to test for mitochondrial DNA – that carried by Irene Charitas and her sisters, contributed to them by their mother.

Sadly, Irene Charitas Schlosser didn’t have any female children who lived.

What this means is that if anyone descends from Irene’s sister’s female children through all females, to the current generation, where the tester can be male – the mitochondrial DNA will be that of Irene Charitas’s mother, Anna Ursula.

Anna Ursula gave her mtDNA to her children of both genders, but only females passed it on. The only one of Irene Charitas’ sisters who had female children who lived was Anna Maria Schlosser who married Melchior Clemens or Clements. They had three daughters who would be candidates, as follows:

Anna Appolonia Clemens born August 26, 1691, married on May 26, 1712 to Johannes Nicolaus Heller of Reweiler in the Catholic church in Ramstein..
Reginam Catharinam Clemens born December 3, 1697. Unknown if she married.
Anna Christina Clemens born September 29, 1700 and on November 4, 1722 she married Jacobus Wuest of Obermohr in the Catholic church in Ramstein.

If you descend from these women through all females, I have a testing scholarship waiting just for you!

Not The End

That’s not quite the end of the discoveries yet, but the next chapter is literally not written. There’s a plot twist too!

We now have at least some evidence that suggests that Irene Charitas Schlosser Mueller might not have died around 1694, as previously thought, but I’m holding off on that because the evidence is actually rather unusual in addition to being somewhat contradictory and, frankly, I don’t want to miss another doggone umlat!

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Michael McDowell Sr. (c 1720 – after 1755), Breadcrumbs Scattered From Maryland Across Virginia, 52 Ancestors #175

Posted on December 17, 2017 by Roberta Estes

Michael McDowell Sr. could have been born in Baltimore County, Maryland, on the boat to Maryland, or back in Ireland.

We don’t know.

What we do know is that in 1752, Michael McDowell sold portions of the property in which he had an interest that had belonged to Murtough McDowell, an immigrant. Murtough was living in Baltimore County in 1722.

We are presuming that Murtough’s wife in 1730 was indeed the mother of Michael, but we don’t know that for sure either. It’s certainly possible that Elinor was a second wife, but there is absolutely no evidence either way.

Halifax County, Virginia

Halifax County was formed from Lunenburg in 1752, and that’s where we find Michael McDowell in that same year, selling his father’s land in Maryland. Thank goodness for this link, because without it, we would never have been able to connect Murtough McDowell in Baltimore County, Maryland with Michael McDowell in Virginia.

The following power of attorney was issued in Halifax County, VA and recorded along with a land sale in Baltimore County, Maryland.

May 3, 1755 – Page 407 – Power of attorney from Michael Macdowell to John Hawkins, signed in Halifax County.

The power of attorney itself was entered into the Baltimore County record below the deed sale and is dated September 19, 1752.

This signature does not contain an X for a signature, which may be a later differentiator between Michael McDowell Sr. and his son, Michael Jr.

The following document is recorded in Baltimore County, Maryland:

Mich McDowell to Joseph Murry Jr. – September 19, 1752, Michael McDowell of Halifax County in the colony of Virginia to Joseph Murray Jun of the County of Baltimore in the Province of Maryland, 10 pounds current money, land known as “Bring Me Home” beginning at two bounded white oaks at the head of the north line of Jones Falls…

March 5, 1753 John Hawkins by virtue of authority of power of attorney to him made for that purpose by the within Named Micheal Macdowell to Joseph Murray Jr., and the land and premises herein mentioned to be the estate rights and interest 6 pounds current money. Signed and witnesses by Thomas Hooker and Joseph Hooker

These signatures above do not contain an X for Michael’s signature.

Based on the above information, Michael was not in Baltimore County in person, but in Halifax County, VA on September 19, 1752 signed a Power of Attorney document. In 1753, the land was sold to Joseph Murray.

These dates are confusing, because they don’t tally exactly with the dates in the deed books.

For example, the sale date for Bring Me Home is noted as in 1755, not 1753. I’m left with the impression that some of the documents we need are missing or perhaps some transcriptions are in error.

It looks like in 1752 Michael sold his shares in this property to Joseph Murray, and in or by 1755, he sold the actual land to Joseph. This suggests that perhaps Michael is related to Joseph Murray, which means that Joseph Murray may have been married to Michael McDowell’s sister. Unfortunately, there are a lot of “suggestions” here and not much more. Worse yet, if accurate, Joseph Murray’s wife is shown to be one Margaret Jones. I might just have gone down a rathole.

We know that in 1753, Michael was in Halifax on May 3^rd per the deed registration in Baltimore County, or at least that’s what was registered based on the Power of Attorney document signed in 1752. What we don’t know is whether or not Michael was actually living in Halifax County in 1753, or if he had moved on by that date.

Regardless of the actual sale date, the essence of this is that Michael, from Halifax County, Virginia, appears to be the son of Murtough McDowell from Baltimore County, Maryland. Unfortunately, no will or other administrative or estate records for Murtough or his wife have emerged.

There are no other records for Michael McDowell in Halifax County, although there is a Peter McDowell found there in 1752. However, if Peter was also Murtough’s son, you would think there would be another power-of-attorney document for Peter, and there is nothing.

A Land Entry

In Marion Dodson Chiarito’s book, “Entry Record Book 1737-1770” which covers land in the present counties of Halifax, Pittsylvania, henry, Franklin and Patrick, she says the following:

This book contains land entries in the western portion of the original Brunswick County, namely Halifax, Pittsylvania, Henry, Franklin and Patrick. The area concerned was south of the Roanoke-Staunton River, west of Tewahomony Creek, now Aaron’s Creek which divides Mecklenburg and Halifax cuonties, and extending to the Blue Ridge Mountains. These counties were formed from Lumemburg which was separated from Brunswick in 1746.

Marion continues:

It must be pointed out that an entry for land was but a statement of intention. Ownership of land resulted from satisfying the requirements for settlement the land and improving it. For this reason, many entries were voided.

On page 161 of Marion’s book, on page 203 of the original entry taker book residing in current day Pittsylvania County, we find an entry for a man who might be Michael McDowell:

Michael McDuell 400 on a Branch of Black Water River beginning at a white oak with 4 chops in it in the fork of said branch then up both forks and down the branch.

If this was Michael McDowell, I’ve failed to find a deed of sale at any time, and he is next found in Bedford County which, indeed, did have a Blackwater Creek.

Next Stop – Bedford County

Michael McDowell was listed on the Bedford county tax list in 1755. And before you ask, no, we don’t know for sure that this is the same Michael McDowell. Fortunately, Michael McDowell isn’t a popular name, and the best we can do is track the name forward and backward in time.

Perhaps Michael was using his inherited money on the frontier where land was cheaper than in Halifax County which was largely settled at this point in time. The problem with that theory is that we have no record of any Michael McDowell purchasing any land until 1783 in Bedford County, and by then, the Michael who purchased land could have been Michael Sr. or Michael Jr. who was born in 1747.

Based on subsequent records, including Michael McDowell Jr.’s Revolutionary War pension application which states that he was dismissed in 1777 or 1778 and returned to his home in Bedford County, combined with a land sale in 1793 in which the land purchased in 1783 was sold by a Michael McDowell who made his mark when signing with an X, it appears that the land in 1783 was purchased by Michael McDowell Jr., not Sr. Michael McDowell Jr. apparently could not write his name, while it appears that Michael McDowell Sr. could.

We also know, according to that pension application, that Michael Jr. was born in 1747.

What else do we know about Michael McDowell Sr.?

There are be more hints in Lunenburg County.

Lunenburg County, Virginia

We first find Michael McDowell in Lunenburg County in 1748, but what did he do between then and 1752 when we find him in Halifax County? Or perhaps Michael didn’t move, but the county line did.

Keep in mind that Halifax County, where we positively identify Michael McDowell Sr. as Murtough’s son in 1752, was Lunenburg County before Halifax was formed in 1752.

However, we may have an even earlier sighting of Michael.

We find a similar name in Albemarle County, VA in the 1745 road records, dated June 27^th in which Andrew Wallace was appointed surveyor of the highway from D.S. to Mitchams River. Archebald Woods, Jeremiah Marrow, William Shaw, Robert Mannely, John Dickey, William Wallace, Merlock McDowell, Micah Woods Jr., Micha McDowell, Anthony Osbrook, John Lawson, John Cowan, William Little and Robert Anderson ordered to assist in clearing. Looking at this list, I have to wonder if Merlock McDowell is actually a Mortough McDowell Jr. and if Micha is Michael, of course. The rest of these people would have been their neighbors up and down the road. Is this our Michael? There is no way to know.

A search of Albemarle deed and will indexes from 1748 through 1753 shows no McDowells. Albemarle was formed from Goochland in 1744, although deed and will records didn’t begin in Albemarle until 1748. A search of Goochland County records from 1731-1749 also show nothing, so if Michael and Merlock were there, they are silent residents.

Lunenburg County was formed in 1745 from Brunswick County, Lunenburg deeds and marriages exist from 1746. Brunswick County land records exist from 1732, but no marriages. Michael McDowell is not in the compiled Virginia marriages, created from extant early records. Strike, strike, strike and out.

The 1748 tax map for Lunenburg is the first tax list available, so we don’t have any way of knowing whether or not Michael Jr., born about 1747 was born in Lunenburg, or if his father was still living in Maryland or elsewhere when Jr. was born.

The Lunenburg County 1748 tax list shows Michal McDanel with 1 tithe in the district taken in June by Mathew Talbot from Bleu Store to Little Roanoke.

Sunlight on the Southside by Landon Bell provides the Lunenburg tax lists, where extant. We find the McDowells mentioned in the intro portion as being from Lunenburg Co., Va. before they went to NC.

In 1749, we find Michael McDowell in William Caldwell’s district, which was probably the district that would eventually become Charlotte Co., which neighbors Halifax. Michael had 1 white tithe, meaning white male over 16, and no negroes. His neighbors were as follows:

William Russell
Thoms Walters
Thomas Lewis
Michael McDowell
Robert Wood
Estate of Major John Cole
William East overseer for John Cole

In 1749, the Lunenburg road orders included a Michael McDaniel, who may have actually been Michael McDowell who was ordered to work on Randolph’s Road from Thomas Worthys to the Mossing foard.

Looking at a current map, the Roanoke is called the Staunton between Halifax County and Charlotte County, and at a location called Randolph, Virginia, very near the River in Charlotte County, we find another Staunton, probably referred to in the road minutes as the Little Roanoke.

You can see that Charlotte County, shown in red below, abuts Halifax to the west. Michael’s 1752 Power of Attorney was sworn in Halifax County. The court house at that time was near the village of Halifax.

Randolph’s Road, from the Lunenburg County road orders seems to be a main road that crossed the Roanoke at the Little Roanoke River where a ferry was located. According to the 1821 field survey notes the Little Roanoke is located in Charlotte County. Of course, Randolph’s road continues on through Lunenburg and into Prince Edward County so Michael’s road duty may have been elsewhere along this then major road. It’s referred to as a “roling road,” which means tobacco casks were literally rolled down the road to the docks to be graded and loaded onto boats. However, given the fact that the road order includes mention of a “foard,” this suggests that the road crosses some river that is more significant than a creek, but probably not as large as the Roanoke which is too large to ford without a ferry.

I suspect that Randolph’s Road is Highway 59 today. Some road orders reference George Moore’s. He owned Moore’s Ordinary which was located on what is now Ordinary Road, near the Whistle Stop.

In 1750 we find Michael in Nicholas Hale’s district with one tithe again as follows:

John Freer
Robert Baker
John Helton
Michael McDowell (Michal Macdowel)
Nicholas Alle
John Pybon
Jacob Pybon

In 1751, Michael is missing from the list and in 1752, Halifax County was formed from Lunenburg. We already know that Michael is in Halifax in 1752.

According to the map below, in 1746, reflecting the 1748 tax lists, Mathew Talbot’s District became Charlotte County in 1764, formed from Lunenburg. On the 1746 map, it looks like the Little Roanoke is called “Roanoke Creek.”

Michael Talbot’s district is the area that would initially become Charlotte County in 1764. Today Charlotte County is separated from Halifax County by the Roanoke River, which is the dividing line between Mathew Talbot’s District and Cornelius Cargill’s District in 1746.

The Lunenburg Order books 1746-1755 reflect the following:

June 1753 Michael McDuel vs Jacob Pyborn – Pyborn not inhabitant of county – suit abates.

What this does not tell us is whether Michael was still a county resident, and we don’t know when the suit was filed, except at a session prior to June of 1753.

Note that Jacob Pybon was one of Michael’s neighbors in 1750.

May court 1754 John Thompson vs Michael McDuel – def not inhabitant of county – suit abates.

This tells us that Michael probably left between June of 1753 and May of 1754, and it might give us some idea of why. Trouble was brewing perhaps.

We also know that Michael McDowell was in Halifax County on March 5, 1753 where he was considered a resident, at least according to the deed filed in Baltimore County, Maryland. Of course, that information could have been based solely on the information in the Power of Attorney document. We don’t actually know that Michael was still living in Halifax in March of 1753. He could have moved on. He seemed to do that pretty regularly.

Sept. 1755 – John McDuel witness for Richard Booker vs Samuel Seekright, paid by Booker for 3 days attendance and once coming and returning 50 miles.

Is this John somehow connected to Michael? If so, he either died or moved on too.

There were no McDowells in the order books, deeds, road orders or wills from 1746-1766.

Bedford County was created in 1753 from Lunenburg County.

Reconstructing Michael’s Movements

As best we can tell, Michael spent his childhood in Baltimore County, Maryland. Of that we are positive based on Murtough’s records. Murtough owned this land at the head of the North Branch of Jones Falls which Michael sold.

I wonder how Michael felt selling his boyhood home. Difficult under the best of circumstances, and even moreso if your parents were buried there – especially if you never got to say goodbye.

Today, this guardrail marks the location near 12100 Park Heights Avenue in Owings Mills, Maryland where the road crosses the North Branch of Jones Falls Creek. This would have been Murto, then Michael’s, land, or very close.

Michael may have been in Albemarle County by 1745, which probably meant he was at least 25 years old, so born 1720 or earlier.

There was a Michael McDowell in Lunenburg by 1748, probably in a portion of Lunenburg that became Charlotte County, just across the river from Halifax. MIchael could also have been living in the portion of Lunenburg that simply became Halifax.

We find Michael, Murtough’s son in Halifax County in 1752 when he signed the Power of Attorney, then possibly in 1753.

The possible land entry for 400 acres was registered in 1754, but appears to have been abandoned.

Michael McDowell is in Bedford County on the 1755 tax list.

We find no other records of any Michael McDowell during that time in Virginia or Maryland.

And there, our trail goes cold.

The next piece of information about any man with that name is what we discovered in Michael McDowell Jr.’s 1832 Revolutionary War Pension. We know that pension application is not for Michael Sr. because the Michael McDowell who filed for the pension doesn’t die until after 1840, and he gives his age in the pension application which tells us that he was born in 1747. Clearly not the man who sold property in Maryland from Halifax County in 1752 when he would have been 5 years old.

What happened to Michael McDowell Sr.?

We simply don’t know, other than he’s surely dead by now.

It’s pretty clear that MIchael was in Bedford County in 1755 and his namesake son lived there in 1777, but the years in-between are entirely devoid of information. We simply know Michael Sr. died sometime after 1755 and didn’t own any property.

The possibility that Michael Sr. bought the property in 1783 and sold it from Wilkes County in 1793 exists, but is unlikely.

First, Michael Sr. would have been more than 63 years of age in 1783, purchasing his first land. The man who sold the property from Wilkes County in 1793 when Michael Sr. would have been about 73 signed with an X, meaning he couldn’t write. Michael Sr. could write. Additionally, in the 1787 “census” of Wilkes County, only one Michael McDowell lived there at the time, not an older and younger version.

The connection of Michael McDowell Sr. and Michael McDowell Jr. as father and son is not concrete. There is no will or other relationship-defining document. The names and locations are the same, but there is room for error. And the DNA doesn’t help us this time, at least not yet.

DNA Will Tell the Story – Someday

We have what is purported to be the Y DNA of Michael McDowell Jr. I say purported, because the DNA comes from a line not firmly attached to Michael Jr. through a presumed son, Edward. However, there is paper evidence to suggest that Edward is either Michael Jr.’s son, or is at least connected to Michael Jr.

Two types of evidence, both genetic and genealogical, confirm a male line.

First, if one male who takes a Y DNA test matches other men who have taken the same test at 37 markers or more (generally), then the surname line is confirmed – meaning that these men share a common ancestor at some point in history.

What that test cannot tell you is which common McDowell ancestor or which point in history, at least not exactly.

That information needs to come from a combination of genealogy and genetics, with the genetics confirming the paper trail genealogy.

Sometimes this methodology is lacking. In this case, my McDowell male matches two other McDowell men at 25 markers, but both of their genealogies reach back to Michael Jr. There is no other McDowell match at that level.

This leads to a couple of questions.

First, is the historical surname really McDowell? In other words, why aren’t their more McDowell matches, and some matches with genealogy reaching further back in time.

My McDowell male was originally only tested to 25 markers, and we’ve recently ordered an upgrade to his Y DNA to see what kinds of matches we retain at 37 markers and above. Unfortunately, many McDowell testers tested early and haven’t upgraded. Neither do they have trees online today.

Second, if the historical surname is McDowell, is my tester really descended from or related to Michael McDowell Jr. on the paternal line? Fate is sometimes a jokester and might just have put Michael McDowell beside his known son John, plus Luke and Edward, on the 1810 Lee County tax list just to mess with me. Could happen. Stranger things have happened before.

One of the best indicators of Luke being related to Michael McDowell Jr. will be if the McDowell male tester also matches people who descend from Michael McDowell Jr. through autosomal testing. The autosomal test, known as Family Finder, is underway at Family Tree DNA.

Third, if we knew of other sons of Michael McDowell Sr., we could simply (and I say simply like it really is) test a McDowell male descendant of a different son.

Some things are simpler than others, and this isn’t one of them. We don’t know the identities of any of Michael McDowell Sr.’s other children, assuming he had them and they lived.

We will likely never be able to find additional sons of Michael McDowell Sr., at least not through paper trail genealogy, barring that miracle Bible discovery. However, in time, if we find enough McDowell males who match this line through Y DNA as well as match at some level utilizing autosomal DNA, we may be able to find people who we think may be descended from Michael Sr.

Notice the weasel-wording, “if”, “may” and “think,” because success proving additional children of Michael McDowell Sr. is not assured – ever. One of my life-long mottoes is, “if you don’t try, you’ll never succeed!” This is no different. So much progress has been made in the past few years utilizing DNA testing that who knows what tools will be available to us in the future.

The answers to the questions we can answer today reside with the descendants of Michael McDowell – proven or otherwise.

Is it YOU?

If you are male or female and descended from Michael McDowell Jr. born in 1747 and died after 1840 in Claiborne County, Tennessee (now Hancock County), please contact me.
If you are male or female and descended from Edward McDowell who married Lucy Harris in 1811 in Pulaski County, KY and died in 1858 there, please contact me.
If you are male or female descended from Luke McDowell born in 1791 who married Frances Field in 1811 in Pulaski County, KY and died in 1879 in Dekalb County, TN, please contact me.
If you are a male McDowell descended from Michael McDowell Jr.’s proven son, John McDowell or William McDowell from Claiborne (now Hancock) County, Tennessee, or John’s line that settled in Lee County, VA, please contact me.

The only way to prove Michael Sr.’s line is to first prove Michael Jr.’s line, and to do that, I specifically need to find a male McDowell, meaning a male who carries the surname today, from a proven son of Michael Jr.

In the meantime, if we can prove that either a group of people, either males or females proven to descend from Michael Jr., through autosomal DNA testing, matches our McDowell Y DNA tester descended through Edward, especially on the same segments, that too is pretty compelling evidence.

The only way to compile that evidence is for descendants to test.

Is that you? If so, please contact me and let’s discuss how we can get that done, or maybe you’ve already DNA tested someplace. Regardless, I’d love to hear from you. It’s always fun to meet cousins and exchange information!

______________________________________________________________

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FIRE!!!!

Posted on December 15, 2017 by Roberta Estes

Did that just strike terror in your heart? Is your pulse racing right now? It should be.

Fire has played a transformative role in the lives of our ancestors, especially since they built houses and tried to heat them, meaning their home could burn to the ground, killing the occupants or best case, rendering them helpless and reliant on other community members for food, clothes and other sustenance.

And sometimes, fire strikes very close to home – or at home.

Yesterday, my friend nearly lost her home. She lit an advent candle on her kitchen table that was surrounded by evergreen boughs. Then she forgot about it and went to bed. Her religious devotional tribute combined with fatigue nearly cost her dearly.

Thankfully, due to a WORKING SMOKE DETECTOR, she is alive today and her house only needs a thorough cleaning and new carpet – not to mention a new kitchen table, of course and a few other items that burned.

Candles look so innocent and beautiful, but they aren’t.

Another friend lost her son, house, pets and all belongings except for the clothes she was wearing to escape and her car in the driveway a year ago August. I can’t even begin to explain the devastation to this woman. And the great irony – she was (and is) a firefighter.

Fires move so quickly, once they start. There is often no prayer of containing the fire or for escape.

I’m a third generation fire daughter, wife and mother.

Being third generation, and having had a house fire of my own about 25 years ago, let me share with you my house rules:

House Fire Prevention Rules

No open flames in the house. Nada. Not ever. No candles. Period. Yes, my kids hated me, right up until one of them became a firefighter himself. Try these flickering battery-operated candles instead. You can find them at places like WalMart. They are beautiful and much safer.
My fireplace does not burn logs, which create chimney residue. My fireplaces are gas and the flame is always contained behind a glass door. Never go to sleep or leave with the fireplace burning. Keep your emergency shutoff key in the valve.
No real Christmas trees. If I was going to have a real tree, and I did for awhile, no lights. Lights get hot and electronics short out. Ever see how quickly a dry tree goes up in flames? Is it really worth the risk? My mother tells of when my grandfather grabbed their burning Christmas tree and ran out the door with it, throwing it in the snow outside. Everyone was lucky in their case. No so for others.
Fire extinguisher resides in the corner in the kitchen. If you need it, you don’t have time to hunt for it. Mine is in view, not terribly stylish, but safe.
No leaving things cooking in the house unattended. That means no oven autotimer meals, no crock pots when an adult isn’t home. Nada. It can’t burn or malfunction if it’s not turned on.
No cars starting in the garage for warmup, or running inside even for a couple minutes, EVER. My neighbors accidentally killed three family members this way and it’s a sight I never forgot. This includes, by the way, remote start. Remote starts should require two separate buttons to be pushed simultaneously or some safety feature that does not allow you to accidentally start the vehicle without being aware that the vehicle was started. Never, ever, remote start a vehicle in a garage. Why? Ever get distracted? Me neither!
Battery replacement and testing of smoke alarms every Easter. See the here for information about a new type of 10-year smoke alarm with a sealed battery compartment.
Carbon monoxide sensors/alarms. Preferably in both the furnace area and the sleeping areas. These make great, if not exciting, Christmas gifts. What better way to say “I love you and want you around.”
Irons should have auto-shutoffs. I personally hate this because I’m a quilter. But I want to be a quilter with a house and without my quilts going up in flames because I forgot to turn the iron off and the cat knocked it on the floor.
Matches are secured. That means from kids and from pets. One of my husband’s acquaintances’ young grandsons was fascinated by matches, took them to bed and hid under the covers while playing with them…and you’ve already guessed the rest. They wound up filing bankruptcy in addition to the loss of their home and pets.
No smoking on the property. That means anywhere on the property, not just in the house. Why? Guess what happened a few years ago when a well-intentioned smoker put their cigarette “out” and threw the butt in the trash that was sitting beside the house.
No outside fires close to the house, and none without a hose close by, just in case.
No outside fires at all when it’s dry – like a drought in the summer or the early spring before things turn green.
Unplug appliances not in use. They can’t short out if they aren’t plugged in.
Be very vigilant of dust near extension cords and such. If an electrical short should occur, dust, as in dust bunnies or lint near an outlet combusts immediately. This is actually what caused my own house fire back in the 1990s. Fortunately, I was home at the time and the fire started in the basement laundry room which had a concrete floor. You don’t have any dust bunnies, right???
Clean out the dryer vents and vent pipes. If you have a plastic vent pipe, replace it with metal.. Lint combusts too, and dryers involve a heating element. Yes, I have another family member whose college-age son came home to do laundry and the dryer caught fire. The apartment did burn, but not to the ground and the people and pets escaped with only about 6 months of inconvenience. Of course, his laundry escapades are now the family joke that he will never outlive – but that’s only funny because no one died. (See you Christmas Eve, Firebug. Trying to find a smoke alarm ornament for your Christmas tree. Just sayin…)
No going to bed or leaving with the clothes dryer running. By the time you realize there’s a problem, it’s too late.
No plug-in type air fresheners. They heat up, which is how they dissipate that lovely smell, but sometimes they catch fire and burn.
Have your furnace checked and serviced regularly. Change the filters twice a year. Not only does this protect you, it saves money on heating too.
Do not grill, as in BBQ grill, right beside the house. Yes, I know this should be intuitive, but sometimes it’s just not. You don’t really want “grilled house,” melted siding or worse, now do you?

Call me paranoid if you want – but I’d prefer the term alive and vigilant😊

I want you to be too.

I don’t want fire to be your legacy.

Fire – A Sad Family Legacy

My father’s Camp Custer military record during WWI refers to him as a fireman. When I saw that detail, I couldn’t help but wonder if my father remembered the house fire that took his brother’s life when he was a mere child?

Did my father remember running terrified from the flames that consumed everything? Of course he did. How could you ever forget that?

Was I named for the memory of that child?

Robbie, whose name was Robert, was born in June of 1898 while the family was living in Arkansas. By 1900, they had moved back to Tennessee, to Estes Holler, in Claiborne County. The census tells us that my grandfather had fallen on hard times and not worked for 6 months of the previous census year, meaning from June 1, 1899 to May 31, 1900, according to the census instructions.

Did this have something to do with why they moved back from Arkansas? Possibly. The family story was that William George Estes, my grandfather, was a hard-drinking man who loved to fish but who didn’t much care to work. In Springdale, Arkansas, Ollie Bolton Estes, his wife, ran a boarding house and Will fished.

By 1900, Ollie was probably pregnant again, and if not, would be shortly. In any case, my father was born in October of 1901.

After returning to Claiborne County, Will, Ollie and family lived in a cabin along the little creek that ran through Estes Holler. A holler, for those not from Appalachia, is the little valley between two small ridges. The entire area IS hills and hollers.

Sometime around 1907, the cabin caught fire. Some people said Ollie was outside in the yard. Some said she was at a party. Oddly, no one commented about where William George might have been, only the mother.

This is a picture of Ollie, whose son had recently burned to death in that fire. The look of sorrow on her face is palpable. We know the photo was taken between the births of her two daughters, Margaret born in 1906, in arms, and Minnie who was born in 1908 and not in the photo. We know that the boys are Estel, the oldest, my father in front, about 5 years old, and Joseph Dode, two years younger than my father. Robbie was dead by this time, so the fire happened before this 1907 photo.

Reportedly, the family Bible was also burned in this fire. Along with any other records and photos.

Everything burned, including Robbie.

Surely Robbie was buried in the family or the church cemetery, but there is no stone, at least not one that is carved, to mark his short life.

His little body lays here someplace in an unmarked grave, probably near his brother, Sammie who died in 1893.

Estel, the oldest child, was about 9 or 10 at the time, and he tried his best to get Robbie out, but Robbie crawled under the bed to hide, where he burned to death.

The family said that Ollie in particular, was never right after the fire, never the same. She was probably pregnant at the time with Minnie, born in 1908.

I know the fire and Robbie’s death haunted Estel as well throughout his life, in various ways, none of them good. He blamed himself. Estel drank throughout his life, affecting his entire family – a truly sad story told by his daughter.

My father would have been about 5 at the time and surely remembered that horror. He escaped those flames, but I don’t think he truly ever escaped entirely.

Years later, Uncle George (who was really a cousin) would come to own the land where the cabin that burned once stood.

George planted a willow to honor the child who died four years before he was born.

When Uncle George told me the story of Robbie’s death, standing on this very spot about 1990, I stared, transfixed, at this willow, fallen, it’s life spent too soon. It too was dead. Was nothing to ever live here? Is this land cursed?

I realized that in that moment, in that place, my family’s life was forever transformed here. The horrible reality sunk in, like swampwater seeping into my soul with icy fingers.

I felt sick.

Sick for Robbie, for my grandparents but especially my grandmother who was blamed by at least some, for Estel, and for my father.

My uncle died here, a child who suffered a horrific death, on that very spot. Right where that willow lay.

My father ran out of the door, but never, ever discussed that day.

The family left the area not long after.

This fire also killed what was left of my grandparent’s already ailing marriage. Escaping the geography couldn’t cure the pain.

That fire was a fork in the road, in so many ways, sending the survivors on paths they had never anticipated and surely didn’t want to travel.

My father drowned his sorrows with alcohol as well, many times, creating new problems. He also drowned his marriages, as did my grandfather, and eventually – he drowned himself. I was 7 and heartbroken.

Grief kills over and over again.

A generation later, my (former) husband would be a volunteer firefighter, with me being known at the station as 928 and a half. That’s the nod to the wife (or spouse – some public servants are females) for her important but often nearly invisible role in supporting the firefighters.

Fire is quick – much quicker than you are. One tiny misstep can have devastating and deadly consequences.

Forever is forever. The results trickle down through generations.

Please, please be vigilant this holiday season.

No open flames.

Share the word!

______________________________________________________________

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Jacob Kirsch’s Deposition and The Abandoned Wife – 52 Ancestors #174

Posted on December 10, 2017 by Roberta Estes

Over time, tidbits continue to trickle in about Jacob Kirsch, the infamous one-eyed lynching saloon keeper from Aurora, Indiana. And yes, he just happens to be my ancestor. I love them colorful!

Recently, a gentleman, David, contacted me inquiring about Jacob and asked if perhaps I knew anything about Jacob’s relationship with his ancestor, Henry Hahn (Haun).

Henry, it seems, had served in the Civil War, came home to Aurora, Indiana and lived with his wife, Barbara, until sometime after the 1880 census.

Henry subsequently left, abandoning his wife and children. In 1911, after Henry died and was buried, his wife, who had never in the ensuing 25 years divorced her deadbeat husband, filed to collect a widow’s pension based on Henry’s Civil War service.

The Deposition

In Henry’s pension file was a deposition from Jacob Kirsch given on January 11, 1911 that Henry’s descendant very generously offered to share with me.

Not only is the deposition in and of itself very interesting, but it also contained Jacob’s signature – a wonderful find!

This deposition is the only existing narrative in Jacob’s own words. I’m presuming that his deposition in the 1887 lawsuit that stemmed from Jacob’s role in the lynching of an itinerant bricklayer that brutally murdered a man in Aurora was actually written by his attorneys. The preamble of that deposition says, “Now comes Jacob Kirsch…by his attorneys, and answer to said plaintiff’s complaints says that he denies every allegation…”

So, while that 1887 deposition clearly states Jacob’s position, I doubt seriously if it’s Jacob’s own “voice.” It sounds like “lawyer speak” to me.

However, the 1911 deposition given for Barbara Vogel Hahn reads differently.

I am 69 years of age. I am a hotel keeper by occupation. My post office address is Aurora, Dearborn County, Indiana. I have resided in the City continuously for the last 45 years. I first became acquainted with the soldier, Henry Haun, late in the sixties, and knew him intimately from that time until he left here. He left here a little more than 25 years ago. I have not seen him since he left. I also knew his widow, the claimant, Barbara Haun, before their marriage. Neither one of them had been married before their marriage to each other. I know this from having have known them both intimately before they were married. I knew the families of both of them. She was a Vogel before her marriage, and I knew her father well. From the time of their marriage until he left they lived here as man and wife. During that time I would see him as often as nearly every day. He was in business just a few doors below me and we were great friends. I have known and seen Barbara often since he went away. I know that she has lived by herself with her three daughters and that she has remained a good, true wife to him during all the time of his absence. She worked hard and made a great struggle to hold her little flock together. She has been highly respected in this community as an honorable, hard working woman. She has had a mighty hard time of it, and deserves credit for the struggle she has made. I do not know and do not believe that she has ever sought for any divorce between herself and him but that she has remained during all the years of his absence his true and honorable wife. I remember the occasion of his body being brought home here for burial last July. The body was taken to the house of her son-in-law, Louis Baker, where she now lives and has for a number of years. From there it was buried in Riverview Cemetery here. I have known her since that time and know and believe that she has remained and is today his widow.

You have just shown me B.J. #6. The signature is mine. You have read it to me. It is absolutely true and correct and I do not want to make any change or correction in it.

I am not related or interested.

I have heard this statement read. I understand it. You have correctly recorded all my answers to your questions.

Jacob Kirsch (signature)

Lending further credence to the fact that this is Jacob’s actual narrative is the statement at the end that says “You have read it to me. It is true and correct and I do not want to make any change or correction in it. I have heard this statement read. I understand it. You have correctly recorded all my answers to your questions.”

And one last tidbit, just in case there was any doubt. “I am not related or interested,” meaning of course, a financial interest.

After rereading this a number of times, the realization finally dawned on me that while Jacob could clearly speak English, he couldn’t read English. That’s why the document had to be read to him. His native language, of course, was German.

Jacob’s signature. Be still my heart.

Seeing my ancestor’s actual signature just takes my breath away. Signatures are so intimately personal – a last vestige of their presence on this earth.

As a bonus, Henry’s descendant also included a second signature where Jacob signed in addition to two other witnesses to another deposition given the same day.

For me, Jacob’s signature is the Holy Grail. It’s personally his, he wrote it, and it still exists today – the only thing of his personally that remains. Except of course for the DNA carried by his descendants. I’m still trying to find someone who descends from this line to test in order to determine which pieces of my DNA came from Jacob.

I know that Jacob touched this paper when he signed it, and part of me wonders if there isn’t just a smidgen of his DNA someplace, still lurking. Of course, even if there was, there would be no way to separate it from the DNA of the other people who handled this document. Nor would the National Archives be willing to let me do anything destructive to the paper – nor would I want to. But it’s a nice fantasy for a minute.

It seems like we’ve been so tantalizingly close to Jacob’s signature so many times, but never managed to capture one. Barbara Drechsel Kirsch, Jacob’s wife, even provided a “likeness” when trying to collect her own widow’s pension, after Jacob’s death, but we don’t know what that “likeness” looked like, because it wasn’t included in his file that was sent from the National Archives. For all we know, she might have traced this signature, although she would only have had access to this signature if a copy of this deposition was retained locally.

This deposition provides other valuable tidbits waiting to be excavated by the archaeologist in every genealogist.

It tells us that Jacob lived in Aurora continuously for 45 years, dating to 1866, after his own service in the Civil War. In May of that year, Jacob married Barbara Drechsel who lived in Aurora, and apparently, they never left. The couple and their young family were living in Aurora in 1870 and purchased a home there in 1871. Now, thanks to this deposition, we know that they lived in the City from the time they married in 1866 until the 1870 census catches up with them.

Friends and Abandonment

This deposition states that Henry was Jacob’s friend. Jacob refers to Henry as having “left” and “went away,” with no mention of stronger words like abandonment. I wonder why. Clearly Jacob understand the ramifications of Henry’s actions on Barbara and their children.

It’s interesting that Jacob painted longsuffering Barbara with a different brush, suggesting that she did what a “good wife” should do by not divorcing Henry after he “left.”

Jacob did say that Barbara lived by herself and “worked hard and made a great struggle to hold her little flock together.” Also that “she has had a mighty hard time of it.”

However, Jacob also says that, “I do not know and do not believe that she has ever sought for any divorce between herself and him but that she has remained during all the years of his absence his true and honorable wife.”

True and honorable wife? Is that how a woman betrayed by her husband is supposed to act, or was between 1885 and 1910? What about Henry? But then, this deposition really wasn’t about Henry, but about Barbara’s behavior. What did Barbara’s behavior after he left have to do with his pension and her ability to receive it?

My next question, of course, is why the heck she didn’t divorce the scoundrel? Perhaps she would have been vilified for the divorce while he got somewhat of a free pass for “leaving.” Times were different 132 years ago, and Jacob may have been answering questions in a way such that there was no doubt about Barbara’s fidelity. Jacob surely would not have wanted any stray rumors, if there were any, to cost Barbara that valued pension. Henry may have abandoned her in life, but in death, there was at least some amount of value left in the relationship. Barbara assuredly deserved that, even if it was nothing more than a consolation prize. At least she had the pension to help her through her elder years even though she appears to have sacrificed any possibility of happiness with a second husband or even a comforting relationship. Small consolation, I know, but certainly better than nothing.

What Happened to Henry?

Out of curiosity, I dug a little deeper and discovered exactly why Jacob testified as he did. It turns out that Henry Hahn was a resident at the US National Homes for Disabled Volunteer Soldiers in Leavenworth, Kansas in 1909, just a few months before his death, where he is listed as both currently single and divorced. He listed his daughter as his next of kin, so he clearly knew she had married. He might have been absent, but he wasn’t entirely disconnected.

Barbara was probably required to provide proof that indeed, they were not divorced.

Had Henry not already been dead, she probably wanted to kill him, several times over, but I don’t think that counts.

Henry’s Leavenworth record also notes that he was discharged to Oklahoma, a long way to ship a body back to Aurora, Indiana. I wonder why Henry went to Oklahoma, who cared for him there and why he wasn’t just buried in Oklahoma.

Why Did Henry Leave?

Jacob testified that he met Henry in the late 60s, which of course meant 1860s, and that Henry “left more than 25 years before,” so before 1886. This suggests that Henry and Jacob were friends for about 20 years, owning similar establishments just a few doors apart on the main street of Aurora for approaching two decades. No wonder they were in Jacob’s words, “great friends.” It must have pained Jacob for Henry to run off and leave his family destitute. Did Jacob know more than he was telling? I’d guess so.

This surely begs the question of what happened to Henry Hahn to cause him to leave.

Yes, yes I know that Henry isn’t my ancestor, but I just can’t keep myself from digging. There’s a lot to be said for researching your ancestors acquaintances and neighbors, because you just never know what you will find, plus it allows you for just a few brief moments to become part of the neighborhood microcosmic environment where your ancestor interacted day to day.

“Hello Henry, how’s it going today?”

“Not so good Jacob.”

“Sorry to hear that. What happened?”

“Those danged well-drillers from Pennsylvania drank too much again. Barbara is cleaning up the mess now. I sure hope they pay their bill. It’s a whopper!”

“Ahhh, the joys of being an innkeeper. I sure hope they don’t come to my place.”

“I saw one of them flirting with your daughter…”

Note that in 1888, one of the danged Pennsylvania well-drillers would become Jacob’s son-in-law while still married to a wife in Pennsylvania, but that’s another story. Neighborhoods and the people in them are intertwined like vines.

While digging, I did find some hints as to why Henry might have left – and no, it doesn’t appear to have anything to do with another women – just in case you were wondering.

A tree on Ancestry carries a note that says, “March 4, 1885 – Left after losing everything. He was in saloon business. Left to find work as a cooper, his trade. Lived with his brother Charles and his wife Minnie in Louisville, KY for a few months.”

A few months apparently stretched to years, because Henry is still living In Louisville in 1891 and in Nelson County, KY in 1900 as a fisherman, although I’m not quite sure where he’d be fishing as a profession in Nelson County.

Henry’s parents died in Aurora in 1892 and 1893, and I wonder if he returned for their funeral and to see his family. Were his wife and children glad to see him, or angry? What about his siblings? What did his parents think of him leaving his wife to fend for herself with 3 small children? Was Henry shunned by the community, or welcomed as a prodigal son returned? Why did he leave again, assuming he returned for his parents funerals?

Did Henry send money home to Barbara as he could? It doesn’t seem like he was making any effort to hide if he lived with his brother. Louisville isn’t terribly distant – about 90 miles by road and both Aurora and Louisville are on the Ohio River.

Ironically, Henry may have been gone, but was still closely enough connected for his body to be brought back from Tulsa County, Oklahoma to his daughter’s home, which included his wife, and buried in Aurora after his July 1910 death. This just seems odd.

These various tidbits of information cumulatively make me wonder if Henry didn’t scheme to maliciously leave, but was suffering and perhaps unstable. Maybe he never intended to be gone forever. Maybe Barbara prayed for years that he would get better and return. Maybe the situation was simply sad, not intentional abandonment. Maybe that’s why she never divorced him, and he never remarried or had another family. Maybe Barbara loved him regardless and never entirely gave up hope.

Maybe that’s the Barbara that Jacob knew. Not angry, just sad – and maybe Jacob was simply sad for his friends too.

No matter how damning things appear at first glance, it’s always best to reserve harsh judgement of our ancestors, and their neighbors. By now, I simply feel sympathy for all involved and a little guilty about what I first thought of Henry. Of course, he still might be a scoundrel, but that jury is still out.

The Neighborhood

Curious, I was able to reconstruct some of the neighborhood and residents living in the various houses listed on the 1880 census in-between Henry Hahn and Jacob Kirsch. Next to Henry, we found Nelson, the photographer, then a railroad conductor, which makes sense since the depot was adjacent the Kirsch House. Next, we found a laborer, a cooper, a woman who kept a rather large boarding house, another cooper and a night watchman. Finally, we have Jacob Kirsch.

We also have a map of the area from about that time.

On this map, the French House is what would be renamed as the Kirsch House, beside the Depot, and I believe that Henry Hahn’s might have been lot 33 on Second Street, just a few properties south of Jacob Kirsch’s residence. Today, I think that’s the library.

An 1880 Indiana Gazetteer and Business Directory has this to say about Aurora:

AURORA. Pleasantly located on the Ohio river, in Center township, Dearborn county, 4 miles below Lawrenceburgh, the county seat, 25 below Cincinnati, and 90 southeast of Indianapolis. The place was laid out in 1819, was incorporated in 1848, and is now a flourishing business city, traversed by the O. & M. Ry. Owing to its superior transportation facilities, Aurora is quite an extensive manufacturing place, having the largest distillery in Indiana, and that, together with a large brewery, nail factory, brickyard, two saw mills, one furniture factory, two flour mills, a stave and heading factory, chair factory, and one foundry, comprise the principal manufacturing interests. Among the chief features of the place are its ten churches of different denominations, two handsome school buildings, seven hotels, a national bank, two weekly newspapers—the Independent and Saturday News—and a handsome opera house. The city, from its beautiful location, is very attractive and has an excellent fire department, is well lighted by gas, patrolled by police, and is, in fact, a very pleasant, thrifty place. Population 5,441. Liquors, hay, furniture, iron, nails, chairs and grain are the leading exports. Express, Adams and O. & M. Telegraph, Western Union. Mail received 8 times per day by rail, and 3 times by boat. John Walker, postmaster.

Among a long list of businesses we find:

Epicurian Hotel, Henry Hahm (sic), proprietor
Kirsch, Jacob, saloon and hotel

In the 1884 Gazetteer, Henry’s business isn’t listed, but Jacob’s is.

I wonder if Jacob felt badly that his hotel succeeded while his friend, Henry’s, didn’t.

The 1890 census is missing of course, but in 1900, we find Lewis Baker, the husband of Henry Hahn’s now-married daughter living what appears to be just 4 doors away from Jacob Kirsch, and next door to Jacob’s son, Edward Kirsch. I’m betting that Barbara Hahn tried to run the saloon and hotel herself until her daughter, Elizabeth, married in 1894 and then her new son-in-law moved in to help with the hotel. Barbara must have been relieved after trying to handle everything herself for more than 9 years. Being a single Mom is difficult under the best of circumstances, and Barbara’s clearly weren’t. Jacob obviously saw that, based on his deposition.

By 1910, the Louis Baker family had moved to another part of town and Barbara Hahn was living with them. I’d bet she was incredibly relieved to leave the innkeeper/saloon days behind her. Enough cooking and cleaning sunup to bedtime day after day with no end in sight.

Back to The Civil War

One last piece of information that did not prove terribly useful, but is interesting nonetheless, is that while both Henry Hahn and ostensibly Jacob Kirsch both served in the Civil War, they did not serve in the same unit.

According to Barbara Drechsel Kirsch, Jacob’s wife, he served in the Indiana 137^th and Henry Hahn, according to his Fold3 index card served in the 134^th.

There was a method to my research madness. While Barbara Kirsch claimed that Jacob Kirsch served, and she should have known, her pension application was denied. It appears that two different Jacob Kirsch’s Civil War records may have been combined, so some doubt about Jacob’s service still remains.

Therefore, if Henry Hahn had indeed served in the 137^th, the unit Jacob supposedly served in, it would tell us that very likely our Jacob Kirsch had not. Why? Because in his deposition for Barbara Hahn, Jacob says that he met Henry in the late 60s, not in 1864 when Henry Hahn and presumably Jacob both served in the Civil War. Had Jacob served in the same unit with Henry, he would surely have said so. However, since the units in which they are reported to have served are different, it proves exactly nothing at all. Still, it’s a path I had to tread in search of those fantastic tidbits!

However, finding Jacob’s deposition for Barbara Hahn does give me hope that maybe there are other depositions yet waiting to be scanned and indexed at the National Archives, and someday the juicy tidbit that we need may yet surface to prove Jacob’s military service beyond any doubt. That would certain vindicate Barbara Kirsch’s denied pension application and allow me to honor Jacob appropriately for his service.

Today, I’m just incredibly grateful for Henry Hahn’s descendant, David, who was gracious enough to share Jacob’s deposition and signatures with me. David and I both learned things about our ancestors by combining our efforts that we would never have learned individually.

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Disclosure

Thank you so much.

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