Somehow – this did not get transferred from Blogger to my website on 27 Sep 2020 so here it is:
This is the second weekend that has been absolutely beautiful in my part of the world and I spent it putting in my fall garden. Yesterday, our new neighbors, who actually aren’t new, inquired as to what we were growing. They plan on putting a raised bed garden in next weekend along our shared fence line.
So, how is a “new” neighbor not new? Well, they lived one house north of their present location for two years and moved one house south in May when the former owner decided to move into a condo after his wife died the previous year. The condo he moved into is next door to his deceased wife’s first husband. They all remained good friends.
The house that the “new” neighbors moved from was purchased by someone they knew from the New England state they formally lived in. This new to me neighbor is their old friend.
Same thing happened to the house on the corner of our block – the person who built it decided to buy some property on a lake a few miles north where he could retire. He sold it to a Midwest family. They lived their for two years and decided to move to a home not far away with more amenities. They sold the “old” house to a relative.
One of my adults kids bought a home two years ago that’s only 4 minutes from me (if I miss the light). The insurance agent we recommended is the brother of someone who I used to eat lunch in high school with and who was a good friend of my husbands. That high school is 1500 miles from where we all currently reside.
My own family flipped houses, too. I have a nice brick bbq grill my husband and son built based on a memory of one of the house flips. My grandparents decided their first home had become too large so they had a smaller house built a few miles away from the original home in Indiana in the early 1960’s. One of the “extras” they selected was a brick bbq in the backyard. Looking back on it now I find the choice amusing because they had no experience with outside grilling. They used the grill only once, a Memorial Day weekend, when I was 5. I distinctly remember it because the house their original home they sold to my uncle and his family the year before. Being small, I have no memory of the family’s real estate transaction. I do have some memories of visiting their prior home for holidays and regular visits. I distinctly remember playing hide and seek with my cousins in the new house as I climbed into a window seat and fell asleep. That caused the adults to hysterically run around looking for me. The window seat became off limits to us after that. But back to the bbq grill…
The reason I remember the grill is because on that particular Memorial Day weekend my grandparents were giving a going away party to my uncle, recently divorced, who was going to move to Florida. They had bought their old home back from him and this was the last family get together in their “new” home. He was the only one in the family that knew how to light charcoal. The problem was there was a downpour shortly after he lit the briquettes and they were quickly extinguished. We ran into the house and since we were a large family in a small home, the women went to the kitchen to prepare the food on the stove and the rest of us were sent to the basement, which was pretty much empty. The adults brought down some folding chairs and the kids sat on the bare concrete to eat our hot dogs.
I share this story because 60 years ago my family, much like my neighbors, played musical households – selling to a family or friend and in our case, returning to the original home.
Sure, family, friends and neighbors traveled in wagon trains, passenger ships and on barges to emigrate to a new community. I hadn’t really thought much about that being a common custom continuing today until my back yard chat with those “new” “old” neighbors yesterday.
In this ever changing world that requires almost daily adaptions, it’s nice to think that we still seek the comfort of our loved ones to rely on in our neighbors for support.
My backyard poinsettia is in full bloom, the radio is playing holiday tunes and I should be baking and partying with those I love. Except I’m not. I hope you aren’t either. With a reported 16,000,000 million cases and nearly 300,000 deaths in the U.S. from covid as of today per Google, I can’t stop thinking about the picture above.
Yes, it is morbid, depressing and haunting. Taken outside the Croatian Church, then located on 23rd Avenue in Gary Indiana on the 21 February 1919, the deceased man in the center in the coffin is my maternal great grandfather that I never met because of his untimely death at age 43 of broncho-pneumonia brought on by influenza. Joseph Kos was one of the estimated 675,000 U.S. deaths from the 1918-1919 H1N1 Pandemic.
We’re approaching half way to the number of deceased from 100 years ago and we’re not yet close enough to see the end of the spread of covid. That saddens me immensely! For all of the advances in health care in the past century you would think the current death rate would be low. Interesting how we rely on modern medicine when simple old fashioned hand washing, distancing and masks could have significantly lessened the death toll.
My mother, Dorothy Koss Leininger, didn’t remember her grandfather as he died when she was an infant but his death changed the course of her life forever. History is repeating itself again and still we haven’t learned.
Joseph emigrated from Croatia, then part of Austria-Hungary, in January 1910. This was not his first time in the U.S., as he had initially come in 1893 but returned home to marry Ana Katherine Grdenich on 10 February 1895. Family lore says he joined the military and served in the cavalry but after sustaining a kick to his head from a horse while it was being reshooed, he developed epilepsy and was forced to leave the service. With jobs scarce he decided to return to the U.S. After his arrival in New York he worked as a laborer for the Pullman Company. He’s found in Chardon, Geauga, Ohio in the 1910 U.S. federal census as an alien speaking no English.
With his Pullman job, Joseph traveled the country and ultimately ended up in Chicago in 1913. Residing in Pullman housing, he sent for his wife and two children, Mary, my grandmother, and Joseph Jr. (Josip), to join him. Ana was soon pregnant and gave birth to daughter Barbara on 14 Sep 1914 in Blue Island, Cook, Illinois.
Joseph arranged for daughter Mary to wed John (Ivan) Kos, a villager and purported second cousin who had happened to also arrive in Chicago and worked for the Pullman Company. Mary and John wed on 28 January 1917 in Chicago; their first child, my mother, Dorothy, was born in Pullman housing on 14 April 1918.
The family moved sometime in the latter part of 1918, renting a home at 1521 Garfield Street in Gary, Lake, Indiana. Joseph and John found work with the I.I.B. Teaming Company which supplied laborers to U.S. Steel Corporation. To save money, instead of using the available street car, Joseph and John commuted the 1.5 miles to work and back daily via bicycle. With contract tracing unavailable in those days, it is not known where or how Joseph contracted the flu. My grandmother believed it was from work which was likely, as the conditions inside the mill were brutal – unheated, with poor ventilation and large numbers of unmasked men toiling round the clock and then riding home exhausted in a cold rain would lower anyone’s resistance to infection. As an immigrant with WW1 being fought overseas and knowing you are the bread winner your family depends on added further stress.
The last photo taken of Joseph, shown above, shows the funeral attendees maskless and not socially distancing. I have no idea why. Perhaps they were mask slackers but I doubt that as my grandmother always washed her hands as soon as she came in from any errand. I suspect they didn’t know they should. I suspect that U.S. Steel did not mandate that workers wear a mask. By clicking through the death certificates on Ancestry I can see many men who worked as laborers dying of the same conditions during the same time period as Joseph. Possibly Joseph caught the flu from one of the men who died shortly before him, perhaps not. John also was ill but he recovered.
The man on the far left of the photo was the funeral home director; maskless, he clearly did not require a face covering be worn. The man holding the wreath to the back left of the coffin is John Koss, Joseph’s son-in-law. The young man holding the wreath on the right is Joseph Jr. Next to Joseph (look closely) is my grandmother Mary, hidden by a black veil. I like to think she was the only one with any sense to wear the face covering but knowing her well, I think her choice was due to a fashion statement. Next to Mary was her mother, Ana, Joseph’s widow. The others in attendance were neighbors and parishioners of the Croatian Catholic Church. Missing was my infant mother and Barbara, Joseph and Ana’s youngest daughter. Who was watching those girls is unknown.
How Joseph’s untimely death affected my mother was profound, though as a baby she was unaware of the event. John became the only breadwinner in the family and with the loss of Joseph Sr., the family’s income was cut in half. Joseph Jr. was forced at age 17 to leave school and seek work. Money would become even tighter as Mary was pregnant with her second child, Anne Marie, who would be born 6 months after Joseph’s death.
More tragedies came in quick succession to the family – a scarlet fever epidemic that infected both children required the family to quarantine. With no money for a physician, my grandmother relied on her neighbor’s home remedy advice to treat the family. John then had to have a leg amputated as a result of an injury at the mill. When recovered, he could no longer ride his bike to work and had to spend money on the street car. The KKK threatened the family and burned a cross in the empty field in front of their home. A fire started by a candle caused extensive damage and burned my mother’s only toy, a doll.
A little over 10 years after Joseph’s death the Great Depression hit. John’s wages were cut, the family took in boarders, raised vegetables, rabbits and chickens to survive but it wasn’t enough. Dorothy, as the eldest, quit high school at the start of grade 10 to work in a hardware store. Her lack of a diploma hindered her job prospects for the rest of her life.
During the current pandemic I’ve been thinking a lot about the 1918 one. If Joseph hadn’t succumbed to the flu would my mother have been able to finish high school? She had always aspired to be a dietician but going back to school was out of the question. Her working enabled Anne Marie and her younger siblings, George and Marilou to obtain their diplomas. How would my life have been different if my mother had found a career she loved and that paid better than the minimum wage jobs she held? Would I be the frugal genealogist I am today if money hadn’t been so tight while I was growing up?
My memories of my great grandmother are of an old woman always wearing black who sat quietly in deep thought. What was she thinking about? Never remarrying after the man she loved so dearly died, she spent the next 47 years of her life residing with her adult children, changing residences every few years depending on the needs of their growing families. If Joseph had survived, how would her life have turned out?
My grandmother, the apple of her father’s eye, missed him the rest of her life. His death was a loss that could never be replaced. The extra burden of being the sole breadwinner put a strain on my grandfather, John. Would his health have been better and would he have lived a longer life if Joseph had lived?
The pandemic fatigue I’m feeling is put into perspective whenever I compare it to the 1918 pandemic my ancestor’s experienced. I do not want my adult children to miss my husband and I as my grandmother missed her father for the remainder of her life. I do not want any grandchildren I may someday have to wonder about the grandparents they didn’t get the opportunity to know. I’ve learned from my family’s experiences that thriftiness is beneficial. I don’t panic over shortages of goods. I’ve always kept a fully stocked cupboard and supplement with my garden. My children do the same.
The holidays will be different from past ones for all of us. In a season that personifies hope, I’m remembering the past and hope 2021 will be brighter. I am taking the next two weeks off from blogging but will return in the new year. Be smart – stay safe!
On Tuesday, a new FREE database became available – Enslaved: People of the Historic Slave Trade lists 500,000 individual names of the once enslaved. You may browse by entering a person’s name, place, event or source. I gave it a whirl yesterday and although I didn’t find what I was looking for, think it’s a wonderful source to add to every genealogists’ tool kit.
The site is definitely a work in progress but then, so is every genealogical database. The goal is to enter as many names/places/events that documented an enslaved individual. With many records held in private hands, that has made the endeavor all the more difficult.
It’s been estimated that there were over 10 million Africans who survived the passage to the new world in bondage. The majority were transported to South America, Brazil in particular.
The enslaved who resided in Roman Catholic areas were often Baptized. Hence, names are more likely available. Unfortunately, that was not always the case. Entering the search term “Brazil” in the database provided me with 45,753 responses but the majority do not provide a name for the enslaved. Instead, a name of the seller or purchaser is given with a date.
I have been trying to identify the names of the enslaved individuals who were probably brought from Barbados to the New Jersey Colony by my 7th “great*” STEP grandmother, Thomasin Hassell Holinshead about 1720. Thomasin’s father was a sugar planter in Barbados. No records have been found of his death or the sale of his plantation although the location has been discovered on island maps.
Thomasin’s husband, my 7th great* grandfather, Daniel Hollin[g]shead was not a man of means but happened to marry for the second time the sugar heiress’ daughter. Within four years of the marriage they had relocated to New Jersey where Daniel sold vast tracks of wilderness. He died intestate (of course!) in 1730.
I only know of the enslaved individuals from Thomasin’s will of 3 Jan 1757 made in Somerset, New Jersey. She interestingly selected her youngest daughter, Elizabeth, to serve as administrator. Records exist that Thomasin was not pleased with her oldest son, Francis, who had served as administrator for his father, Daniel’s estate as he squandered most of the funds. Thomasin left him and her other surviving children 1 shilling, about $15.30 in today’s money. Says alot!
The clip above shows the part of the will that provides me the clue that Thomasin had enslaved individuals. I do not know:
How many?
Ages?
Gender?
Names?
How long they had been with her?
I have tried to find a will for administrator Elizabeth but her life is sketchy. Mug books mention that she married late in life and had no children. Her husband’s name has been recorded as Thomas Dean of Abington but that, too, is odd. Elizabeth’s brother, William, had relocated to Bucks County, Pennsylvania and named a daughter Elizabeth. That Elizabeth was the second wife of Thomas Bean of Abington. I’ve seen dates of birth for Thomas Bean ranging over 20 years so maybe there was more than 1 as there was more than 1 Elizabeth Hollinshead. No record for a Dean was ever found.
I tried the enslaved database to see if I could find any sale for a Holinshead (with multiple spellings) for New Jersey or Pennsylvania. Zilch. Then tried for New Jersey which lists 78 people and Pennsylvania, showing 244. None were in the areas I was looking for – Somerset County, New Jersey and Buck’s County, Pennsylvania.
Although I wasn’t successful I applaud the site for it’s compilations so far, ease of use and making it free which ironically, lists all those who weren’t.
*NOTE – clearly they weren’t so great enslaving individuals and other records found show Thomasin wasn’t so great to my 6th great grandmother, her only stepchild, but that’s another story.
Season’s Greetings! You may be feeling like the folks were in the photo above after your Thanksgiving feast. Their enthusiasm for the holiday is well, a little underwhelming. Maybe a smaller family gathering would have been a good thing back then.
Whenever I think of all the work that goes into a family get together I think of this picture from my husband’s side of of the family. Taken about the mid 1930’s, from left to right is Clifford Thompson, George Harbaugh, Bert Thompson and Ruth Johnson Thompson. In the midst of the Great Depression, the decorations were scant. Don’t know if it was a heavy meal or the numbness of having to spend the holiday with extended family that put them to sleep.
The picture was taken in the living room of George’s parent’s home. Ruth was George’s maternal aunt. We’re missing the rest of the extended family who lived there – George Sr., his wife, Elsie, and their other children Bob and Betty. Ruth and Elsie’s mother, Louisa, also lived in the household. Where was Bert and Ruth’s daughter, Jeanne? Maybe upstairs playing with cousin Betty. Did Helen Johnson Chellberg, sister to Elsie and Ruth, also come with her husband and three children? Beats me – somethings we will never know.
I’ve been reading a lot in the past week about people being thankful for not having to travel this holiday season. I can relate to that as I dreaded the holidays when our home was cramped with 40 plus people. All those dishes long before dishwashers! No quiet space at all! Lines for the bathroom! Cigar smoke and alcohol breath – yuck! Although I loved those people a bunch I liked them a lot better a little at a time.
This weekend I’ve spent looking at old family holiday photos. Some years were prosperous and others, not. No matter what your holiday plans are for this year your experience will be long remembered not just by you, but by those who know you. If you can’t be all together, keep in touch – via phone, Zoom, letter/card/text – as best you can. Ask the questions you always wondered about, like where was Helen Chellberg in the mid-1930’s? Although the pandemic made this year seem to move slowly, next year just might be too late to get your family questions answered.
I recommend you each out – reconnect – and remember those far away loved ones. Now is the time!
As we all prepare to have a less than typical Thanksgiving, I want to pause and reflect on all the genealogy things that I am thankful for this year. Sure, it’s been difficult with all the archive closures, Zoom conferences and the inability to visit far flung relatives but let’s look at the bright side for a moment.
I am thankful that the pandemic allowed me to:
1. Reorganize my office. I took the time, since I had lots of it this past summer, and made my work space more efficient. I replenished supplies, pitched those pencil nubs and found items I didn’t even recall I had! This was always on my to-do list and now it’s not.
2. Pitched old family records. Don’t gasp – I scanned many of them. I found my deceased mom, 2nd cousin and sister-in-law’s health records. I had tax returns from the 1970’s that we lugged from house to house over the years. Before the tax code changed, we kept the receipts for improvements made on a home we haven’t lived in for 30 years. Found the flood insurance settlement when we lost everything in Hurricane Elena in 1985. I think going through these old documents of other difficult times in our lives made the current situation more tolerable. It was a testament that this, too, shall end one day.
3. Cleaned my Cloud backup storage. Cuddled up on the sofa with the laptop and on a week of rainy days, spent some time each day moving files around or deleting them entirely. Now I’ve got even more space for when I am able to get back out into the world to research without having to pay for more space.
4. Attended Conferences from my backyard. I know that virtual conferences aren’t the same as in-person but if it hadn’t been for the pandemic, I would have had to miss many that I was able to attend this year. I don’t think I’ve ever sat through a lecture and not learned something or been reminded that I should try what I already knew to solve a research problem. I’m so looking forward to Roots Tech, too!
5. Save $! As a long time reader you know I’m a frugal person and look for genealogy deals whenever I can. Although my business did take a hit this year, I was fortunate that my first quarter was larger than in previous years. Can’t explain how that worked out and am thankful that it was. Another way I saved was the organizations that made their records available for free or lowered the price for a limited time at the start of the pandemic. I looked in places I never was able to search before and found lots of info.
6. Researched my own family. Since business was down, I was able to spend time on my own family. In the past few years, this has been severely limited so I was glad for the time to do this. The value of a research log cannot be emphasized enough; I didn’t have to waste much time in picking up where I had left off by reviewing where I had previously searched.
7. Made many new virtual “friends.” Thank heavens for the archivist that continued to answer queries, search a vertical file or scan and email a page from needed text. Although never considered essential workers, they most definitely are to a genealogist and I greatly appreciative of their dedication. I also reached out to relatives I had never connected with before and together, we worked to solve family mysteries.
8. Caught up on my reading. All those journals, magazines, books and pamphlets/flyers/brochures I’ve picked up from past trips have been examined, noted in my tree or pitched. I have a pile in the garage ready to donate to our local library as soon as they begin to accept material again. Finally went onto websites and requested that I stop having journals mailed to me when I certainly can download and read them on a tech device.
9. Planned for the future. I have taken the time to review my findings and know where I want to travel when it becomes safe to do so. In the past, I’d get a last minute offer to travel and then take an extra day to do my own researching if I had family that once lived in the area. Now I know what I don’t know and have identified possibly where the answers might lie. Of course it won’t be 100% accurate but it’s a better way to use my future time then the spur of the moment approach I often had to do.
10. Learned more about myself. I never knew I could become a homebody. Last week, a colleague mentioned how much she hated being home. I’m not there yet. I am very content and that is the biggest surprise I’ve had. Prior to March 14th, I came home late most every week night, ate a rushed often take out meal and went to bed, then up at 5 and out the door soon after. Since I was a teenager, this has been the longest period of time I haven’t been on a flight. I’ve only topped off my car’s gas tank 3 times in 8 months and only then because I wanted to keep a full tank during our hurricane season. I’m thankful for my close family who I enjoy being with 24-7 who have made this dramatic change of lifestyle doable.
Adversity truly does reveal character. Our ancestors have experienced life’s turmoil and paved the way for us to have it easier than they did. Although the upcoming holidays will be far different from any I have previously experienced, I’m thankful for knowing their life story. It gives me strength and hope for better days ahead. Have a wonderful Thankfilled week!
With the holidays around the corner and the zingers of 2020 impeding the typical holiday shopping spree, I’m providing my guide early this year to insure the shopper stays safe and the receiver gets the gift on time.
Most of these items can be purchased locally so do try to support your small businesses and organizations. Others can be purchased online but please buy soon so that the chain of folks that helps you get the item aren’t stressed even more than they already are. Let’s show some gratitude we’ve survived this wretched year and spread the kindness!
My gift guide includes items for a few dollars and up into the hundreds as I understand it’s been a tough year financially for just about all of us. As my mom used to say, “It’s the thought that counts.”
1. A comfortable desk chair – Hubby and I purchased two in May as we were spending so much time in ours and mine refused to let me adjust the height. We had it delivered and assembled ourselves but if that’s not an option use NextDooor to find a local handyperson who can do the assembly on the porch. Your genealogist’s back will thank you.
2. A Second Computer Screen – If your genealogist is using only one screen it’s time to add another; I’ve had two for years but I honestly could benefit from more. Sometimes I put the laptop next to my work area for a 3rd view when needed. Sure, we know how to change the size of what we’re viewing but with old documents, sometimes we just need the whole screen. Your genealogist’s eyes will thank you!
3. A Magnifying Glass – If the To Do list includes going through boxes of old family letters or photos, a magnifying glass, with or without a light, is a must. Think Sherlock Holmes, here – the smallest clue might be missed that could solve the mystery so an inexpensive magnifying glass might just save the day.
4. Assorted Coffee/Teas or a reusable water bottle – whatever is the preferred non-alcoholic drink is a well received gift for anyone but especially the genealogist who needs a quick caffeine jolt or calming tea. I stress the non-alcoholic for a reason – your genealogist needs clear analytical reasoning so skip the booze. A reusable water bottle with a tight fitting lid is also a great idea to stay hydrated without risking a spill.
5. A foot massager – which can fit nicely under the work area. If it has a heat feature it makes it even better on those long cold winter nights of researching.
6. An elliptical for sitting – When in the researching zone, we often forget to get up and move. This handy exercise device allows for individuals to sit and move the lower legs. I love to see how many “miles” I’ve gone without leaving my desk. If your genealogist has a standing desk, the device still works. Until we’re able to go back to running up archive stairs or parking in remote and walking to the library, the sitting elliptical will get a lot of use.
7. Gift Cards – to your genealogist’s local restaurant, grocery or office supply store. If you aren’t sure what your favorite genealogist’s office needs are, know they have to eat! Less time cooking means more time researching and you’re supporting the local economy which makes this a win-win for all.
8. An annual subscription to a new site – This year I joined Academia.edu and I absolutely love it! I was trying to research Barbados in the 1600’s and there isn’t many records that I found useful. I wanted to better understand what life was like there and Academia.edu helped me with that goal. Journal articles are available on a wide range of topics and the site also hosts members to have a webpage so others can connect with them. JSTOR.org is another awesome site that provides journal articles and books that may be of interest. Plans start at $19.50.
9. Donation to a local genealogy/history society – with long term closures and the deaths of members, many organizations are suffering. If your genealogist says – “Don’t get me anything!” then follow their directive but give in their name to an organization that they support. Typically, I’m a doer and not a donator but this year I have given to several organizations that I wasn’t able to support in person.
10. Last but not least – Give the recipient time by listening. I’m serious. Although this monetarily costs nothing it is probably the most valuable gift that can be given. We know you could care less about your fourth cousin twice removed who married your third cousin once removed. Just try to look like you care. Back in the day when the world was “normal” we could attend conferences and meetings to share with others the great discoveries we made. Simply listening is a wonderful gift to give!
New Jersey, Marriage Records, 1670-1965, digital image; Ancestry.com: accessed 11 Nov 2020, citing FamilySearch.org microfilm 000961018.
With Hurricane Eta descending on my area I decided to spend this rainy windy prelude to the storm searching for my mysterious Bird family. All I know is that my paternal 4th great grandparents:
Hannah Byrd was born in New Jersey, possibly Monmouth, about 1775. She married Thomas Duer about 1797. The couple relocated about 1808 to Trumbull County, Ohio where she lived for the remainder of her life, dying in 1858 in Mahoning County, Ohio. Mahoning had been split from Trumbull County. Hannah may or may not be the Hannah Dyer that married on 22 September 1831 in Jackson, Trumbull County, Ohio widower James Preston who lived on the land next to Thomas and Hannah’s. No divorce records have been found and Hannah returned to using Duer as her last name in the 1840 U.S. federal census. She was buried in Jackson Township Cemetery, North Jackson, Mahoning County, Ohio.
Spouse Thomas Duer was born about 1775 in New Jersey, possibly Sussex County. He died, probably unexpectedly since he was intestate, on 29 November 1829 in Jackson Township, Trumbull County, Ohio and is buried in the Price Mills Cemetery in Pricetown, Trumbull County, Ohio. The cemetery was not the closest to his residence at the time, however, it was known as a cemetery for those of the Presbyterian faith.
There certainly are a lot of “probably/possibly/maybe” in what I know! Records are scant for the New Jersey area at the time of their birth, the start of the American Revolution. I have discovered many Berd/Bird/Burd,/Byrd families in New Jersey but never able to determine that any had a child named Hannah. Some researchers have surmised that Hannah was a Quaker, as there has been records found for permission for a Mary Duer to leave Bucks County, Pennsylvania in 1806, about the time my Hannah relocated to Ohio. Except I have found no evidence that my Hannah was using the name Mary. There is also a record of a Hannah Byrd from Monmouth, New Jersey, recorded with a Joseph and Thomas in a Quaker index but there isn’t enough information to determine that was my Hannah. There are a sizeable number of Duers that were of the Quaker faith and as I learned this past summer, the Presbyterian and Quaker Duers were distant cousins that kept in contact with one another through the 1700’s in both New Jersey and Pennsylvania. That leaves the possibility that Presbyterian Thomas Duer married Quaker Hannah Byrd. What I could never reconcile was when and where Hannah and Thomas met. I have no records that Thomas was ever in Monmouth as I have no records that Hannah was ever in Sussex. On a side note, imagine researchers in the future looking back at our time period to try to figure out where their ancestors met – will there be records of dating aps available?! Hmm, what a mess that will be. Last month I decided to try to trace the path of the only Bird that was in Trumbull County, Ohio at the time that Hannah was alive to determine if there was any connection between the two of them. Benjamin Bird, born about 1872 in New Jersey and who died before 1860 in Ohio, was the one and only individual with a similar surname. Possibly he was a younger brother or cousin of Hannah or maybe not related at all. When I began to search for New Jersey records for him, however, I was pleasantly surprised to find the info I have posted in the picture above…Benjamin, along with an Elisha and Margaret Bird, were all married in Pleasant Groves, now Warren County, then Sussex County, New Jersey by a Presbyterian minister, the Reverend Joseph Campbell, in September and October of 1809. These flimsy findings may just lead me to Hannah’s parents. Today, I’ll try to determine the relationship between Elisha, Margaret and Benjamin. Hoping that a Hannah shows up, too! I will likely not find further church records from Trumbull County as the circuit riding minister records for the time period are scant. Perhaps there is a connection between them, not only in Sussex/Warren but also in Monmouth. I can’t wait to get started.
Skipped blogging last weekend because I was consumed by work from my other job – lots of teaching units were cut in my district and I was tasked with making new schedules for students. Planned on blogging yesterday and got attached by wasps so my hand is swollen and I’m typing with only one hand now so this will be short!
Did the Tombstone Cake work in helping me find new info on my brick wall ancestors? Sort of! I ended up selecting Hannah Byrd, one of my paternal 4th great grandmothers, who was born in New Jersey and died in Ohio.
With all the way to spell Byrd – Bird – Burd – Berd, it’s always made the search difficult.
My mistake was thinking that she was born in Sussex, New Jersey as that is where her husband’s family was from. I decided to research the only other Bird that lived in Trumbull County, Ohio at the same time she did and discovered he was born in New Jersey but not Sussex. Looks like his father was born in Sussex but moved shortly after marrying to southern New Jersey. So I’ll be following the trail to see if I can connect the two as they are about the same age and could be siblings or cousins or not.
Funny, though, I decided to randomly pick a Kindle free book for October and chose Spellbreaker, a fiction story about a young witch in London who does not cast spells but breaks them. Sort of like a female Robin Hood who helps the peasant farmers when the Baron claims they never paid rent and have to repay. Had to laugh as one of the main characters just happens to be from Barbados. My goodness, those Hollingsheads just won’t let me move on!
Had a strange Sunday morning courtesy of my family.
I got a wake up call from one of my adult kids asking me to list my top 12 dead ancestors that I needed info on. That made me laugh as I was thinking yesterday I need to move on from my Duer-Hollingsheads who I found a wealth of info for over the summer and now things have dried up. Like most of the world, I’m over the pandemic and am starting to make plans for when we can travel again. While gardening, I thought I would list relatives I planned on researching by geographic region so that I could identify areas for trips in 2022 (yeah, I’m being overly cautious here.)
Within minutes I emailed my kid a list of 24 ancestor brick walls – 12 on my side and 12 on my husband’s side.
A few minutes later I got another call that said, “Mom, you have to pair that list down to 12 total!” Okay, sigh, 6 from each list.
Since I was already on email I started reading and found I had two Ancestry messages over night and one email message addressed to my website. Two were regarding Leiningers and one was Harbaugh. People who discovered books and photos as they were cleaning and looking on Ancestry or my blog, found the named folks on my tree. They were hoping to give the items a new home. Since I didn’t list one Harbaugh or Leininger on my brick wall list, this was personally hysterical as those two lines always seem to nudge me when I am working on other family.
Minutes later, my kid brings over the cake pictured above. On each tombstone is one of the names I had supplied that are a brick wall. The chocolate pudding cake with cream cheese frosting was delicious. The “dirt” on top is crushed Nilla wafer cookies dyed with food coloring. Child had bought the cake mix at the start of the pandemic and said, “Let’s bury this thing and move on.” I agree!
I also got a homemade awesome Ancestor Hunter T-Shirt. Neither of my kids have interest in genealogy but they are crafty and when the mood strikes, no telling what they’ll come up with.
The weather was beautiful so we decided we’d have cake and coffee outside. I was walking down the cobblestone path my husband had installed several years ago and took one step off onto the “grass.” Unbelievably, my right leg sunk to mid calf. My kid grabbed me as I sunk, originally thinking I had lost my balance and was about to fall.
There is a reasonable explanation of why the ground gave way in that spot – we had a heavy rain last night and several years ago, a 200 + year old oak tree had been growing there. We had to have the tree removed after a third of it blew down in a hurricane. The roots have been decaying for years and we guess, with the heavy rain, the ground just collapsed.
I’ve never been stuck in quick sand but it was a creepy feeling to all of a sudden just sink into the ground. I had difficulty pulling my leg back out of the hole. Don’t know if my ancestors were ticked off or not but it was weird to be holding Daniel Hollingshead’s candy tombstone while I sunk over a foot into the ground. Yes, I know I need to move on from Daniel but I am still searching for his lost Bible so he remains up on the top of my list.
We settled down to eat a slice of cake and child says, “I had real trouble with one of the tombstones. Catherine Jarvis’s keeps falling over and hitting Wilson Williams.” Umm, Catherine was Wilson’s daughter-in-law! They lived near each other in Long Island, however, Wilson’s “stone,” which I have blogged about in the past, is no longer in the cemetery next to his wife, Margaret Hicks. It was this same child of mine that had discovered that at the Family History Library several years ago. Of course, with no interest in genealogy, there was no remembrance of the names and the finding.
If there’s a message in all this I have no idea what it would be. I re-read my original Wilson and Margaret posts you can find here and here. They are still on my brick wall list as I need further proof of their parents. Family lore gave me the parents’ names but I have no proof of that. I’m thinking that’s who I need to research this afternoon, along with Catherine Jarvis.
If I find something wonderful I will definitely share it and use this unique approach again! Since the world has certainly gone insane a novel way to research just might be what’s needed. Consuming the name of a dead relative on a candy tombstone is weird but fits right in with the spirit of the month. Happy Hunting!
It’s October and even though 2020 has been a nightmare, it’s my annual month to blog about the creepy in genealogy. Last week, I wrote about my new neighbors and this week, I got another new set as a family moved into the rental next door.
When you were a kid, I bet there was a house in your neighborhood that the older kids told you was haunted or where a witch or a monster lived. In my memory, there were two homes that I was warned to stay away from late at night. (In reflection, I was never let outside late at night so why in the world I would be afraid is beyond me today.)
The first house supposedly had been used during the Civil War as part of the underground railroad. Late at night, anguished crying was heard coming from the basement.
The second house, though, was only two homes east of my grandparent’s house. It was on the main road, route 6, and set far back from the street. The small front yard was overgrown with vegetation and even midday from the sidewalk, you couldn’t really see a house. My one year older than me neighbor, Carol, insisted that monsters lived there and would eat children. She heard this from her older wiser brother, Tony. She dare another neighbor, Raymond, and I with walking up the front door and knocking on it. We must have been about 8 or 9 years old. I took the challenge but only got a few steps toward the house when I turned and ran back to the safety of my friends. Raymond got about as far as me and also turned back. When we challenged Carol to do it, she shrugged and said she wasn’t stupid and wouldn’t take the risk.
Just like holding our breaths when we passed a cemetery (ironic, isn’t it, as genealogists we certainly don’t do that now!), we’d stop breathing when we rode our bikes or roller skated past the house. Later that summer, on the wooden telephone pole on the south side of the sidewalk, a nail had been driven into the pole and lots of leaflets hung down. I ripped one off to read it with my friends but we didn’t understand most of what we were reading. We decided it was dangerous so we ripped all of the papers down and debated what we would do with them. Should we leave them on the ground? That was littering and not good. Should we take them and throw them in a garbage can? But if they had a spell on them we would be transferring it to our home. Guess it never occurred to us to walk around the block, down the alley and place it in the spooky home’s own garbage cans. We opted to leave the papers on the ground.
Shortly after, my mother somehow got wind of what we had done. Perhaps our next door neighbor, Mr. Bauer, had spotted us or our loud arguing over what to do had alerted her that something was up, since no one had air conditioning in those days and everyone knew everyone else’s business. I was so proud of myself for fighting “evil” I told my mother I had ripped down a pamphlet and it was from the monster and we were stopping others from getting eaten. I remember the pained look on my mom’s face. She told me I must go back, pick every pamphlet up and put them back where I found them because there was this law that said there was free speech and I was breaking it. Huh?!
I didn’t like disappointing my mom and now I was afraid as my friends weren’t with me for back up on my newest quest. I tried to get out of it by saying I would do it after lunch. Mom said no lunch until I did the right thing. I told my mother if I never came back for lunch it was because the monster ate me. She told me, as she had many times before, no monster was going to do that. She said she would accompany me and I immediately felt better.
I picked up all the papers though some had blown into the street. She retrieved those. We tidied them up and I couldn’t reach the nail nor did I have the strength to punch the paper through the head. She ended up doing that for me; one pamphlet at a time. We then went home for lunch.
Over lunch, mom asked me why I thought monsters lived there. I related Carol’s story. She told me that two people lived there, an elderly widow and her invalid son. We should respect their delicate condition. After lunch, she told my friends the same thing.
Carol must have told her parents as the next day she told me that her parents said my mom was liar and that the family were monsters. Calling someone else’s mom a liar was fighting words and things got heated. We didn’t come to blows but we did huff off mad at each other.
At home, I told my mom what happened and she laughed. I saw no humor in the situation. I wanted her to tell Carol’s parents they were liars. My mom sat me down to explain that people have different views of life and that Carol’s parents had fled Spain’s dictator, Franco, just a few years earlier and that they would consider a Socialist sympathizer a monster which evidently, was what was on the pamphlets. That afternoon my mother explained political systems. Prior to then, my understanding was democracy was best and per the the nuns in school, we should always thank God for not being raised in communist Russia because there, the government made children tell on their parents who prayed at home and the parents would be killed.
So before I start getting hate mail, my mother was a staunch Republican. Those long dead nuns probably wouldn’t be happy with me for thanking God that my mom didn’t live to see the current state of the world but that’s really what I’m most glad for this week.
Today, I live between two families who are strongly supporting opposing candidates. My neighborhood is up in arms over one of the signs that has a word I would not publish in my blog and is visible to children who play in the park across the street. Others are saying it’s free speech. The neighborhood association rules prohibit political signs but the board refuses to act.
When the world gets to be too much, I find solace in genealogy. I always get insight from those dusty records and the lives of the deceased.
I decided to do some genealogical sleuthing to discover info about the occupant “monster” from my childhood neighborhood. It was a good way to take a break from my own brick walls (had a major disappointment that I’ll share in the future, sigh) and learn a little bit more about the people I knew as a kid.
I approached the task the same way I would with a client; writing down everything I did know. Using Google maps I got the address. Looked at the property tax records which wasn’t very helpful since the family I was searching was long gone. From previous experience, I know that most of the city records are missing; when the city went into foreclosure the county requested the property records but not all were delivered according to county officials. The city officials dispute that (of course). I would also have tried to check the vertical file at the library but unfortunately, the city has shuttered all of their libraries due to financial difficulties.
Using online sources only, I began to investigate the family residing in the home. Census, death certificate info, immigration records and family tree information gave me additional information to ponder. I never met the family that lived in that house in the 11 years I lived two houses away. I now have a greater insight on them; they really did have a difficult life.
Maybe the answer is praying that more people take the time to learn from the past so we can all have a harmonious future.
