SGS2026: Tragedy

Christina Younker, Mother's Day, 1966
Redondo Beach, California

As we dive deeper into genealogy research, we are likely to encounter many tragedies, this month's SGS Write All About It! prompt. From mothers who died in childbirth, infant mortality, communicable diseases, accidents, and more, our ancestors were faced with the possibility of death daily. It was well understood by previous generations how perilous life is, and their approach to death was often marked by acceptance and stoicism.

My great-great-grandmother, Christina Shultz Younker, routinely and proudly stated she was the mother of ten children. However, I was only able to account for eight, including my great-grandfather, Willie, her oldest son. For many years, the details for one of those two missing children remained a mystery. 

After connecting with an older cousin, I learned that Christina, or Belle as she was more commonly known, had written a memoir, over eighty pages of rich details about her life, including the story of her young daughter, Opal Alberta, who died in a fire. In her memoir, Belle describes a bright, sunny girl with black curly hair. The details were unclear, but she somehow set herself on fire at about the age of two. The memoir noted Opal was born in April 1907 and died in August 1909.

At the time, the Younker family was living in Nebraska. Civil registration in Nebraska was enacted in 1904, but there was not statewide compliance until 1920. I was unable to locate either a birth or a death record for Opal. Eventually, as more small-town newspapers were digitized, I found a brief article referencing the tragedy the Younker family had experienced:

Mr. and Mrs. John Younker, whose little daughter recently died
 from the effects of an accidental burn, at their home southwest of Naper,
seem to be having more than their share of affliction.

Butte Gazette, (Butte, Nebraska), December 31, 1909, pg. 5.

The Frontier (O'Neill, Nebraska), November 18, 1909, pg. 5. 

Finally, some indirect corroboration of Belle's memoir. But, still very scant on details. As time went by, I kept checking for additional details until, just a month ago, a newspaper account appeared that furthered my understanding of what happened. Although Belle doesn't mention Opal having access to matches in her account, the two stories are similar in that both describe the little girl slipping away from her family and being engulfed in flames when she was discovered. An August death date doesn't align with the November newspaper date, which seems more likely. Opal was also said to be three years old, which would make a birth year of 1906 more likely. In addition to the lack of vital records, I have also been unsuccessful in finding a burial location for Opal. 

Records for Knoll Crest Cemetery in Naper indicate a plot was purchased by "H. Yonker," but no burials were recorded.  The Younker family's financial circumstances were frequently precarious, and they may not have been able to afford a headstone for their young child, but she may have been buried there. Several years after Opal's death, the family moved 20 miles to the north, to Herrick, South Dakota, to land that had been part of the Rosebud Indian Reservation, but had been opened for white settlement.

There is a large gap of six years, from 1896-1902, between Belle's third and fourth children, which may have been a stillborn or some other early death, but no additional information has been found to account for the missing tenth child. And, Belle herself, makes no mention of it in her memoir. Regardless, it was clearly important to her to remember those two lost children and when declaring herself to be the mother of ten children: Myrtle, Willie, Mildred, Eugene, Delbert, Opal, Ruel, Donald, and Erma. 

Copyright 2026 by Lisa A. Oberg, GeneaGator: Vignettes of Yesteryear. All Rights Reserved.

SGS2026: Immigrant

Everyone has probably heard the saying "revenge is a dish best served cold." Well, there is a genealogical corollary: occasionally, we need to revisit our research "cold," and instead of revenge, we'll find ourselves rewarded.

For years, all I knew about my great-great-great grandfather was his name, John H. Younker (1820-1886), and that he had been born in Germany. Later, as my research into this branch expanded, I learned his middle name was Hubert or Hubertus, and that he had served in the Civil War. 

John married relatively late in life, in 1870 at the age of 49, to Anna Catherina Thomas. Katie, as she was more commonly known, was fourteen years younger and a German immigrant, as well. She was the widow of John Kible and the mother of six children. She and John Younker would have two sons together, John Hubert (1871-1948) and John Henry (1873-1950).

As I dug deeper into John's Civil War service, I learned he had served as a blacksmith with the 5th Illinois Cavalry, Company B. Available records helped piece together John's life after his marriage, but his early life remained a mystery. 

I had already reviewed John's disappointingly thin Civil War pension file while on a research trip to the National Archives in Washington, DC. With a little extra time available, I decided to request his service record file. I had never looked at one before and expected it would add a bit more detail about his Civil War service, but not much else. 

As I reviewed the monthly muster cards, I learned about lost blankets John was charged for, sick days, and then one detail leaped off one of the cards. Although they tracked similar details from month to month, there are many versions of the cards, and one card included the question of birthplace. Aachen. Initially, I didn't even comprehend the information, but then the fireworks started going off in my head... Aachen, that's in Germany!

That stirred a memory from my first-ever research trip to the FamilyHistory Library in Salt Lake City. After spending the majority of my time pursuing U.S. records, on the last day, I ventured to the basement and the International floor. I had absolutely NO IDEA what I was looking for. 

The volunteer on duty listened to my vague details about John Younker (even more vague at that point) and directed me to one of the computers with a variety of CD-ROM databases, including Regierung Aachen—Aachen Government. I did know that in Germany, "Younker" was typically "Junker" or a similar spelling. I found one entry that seemed to match. I quickly made a copy and made a hasty retreat, having realized I didn't have enough information to do successful international research at that point.

Now, with a birth location, there was suddenly additional context for the long-ago record I copied. Although I now had a starting point, it wasn't until another research visit to the FamilySearch Library that I was able to connect John with his German roots in the village of Linnich in the modern state of North Rhine-Westphalia, using civil registration records. The Aachen record also indicated that Johann Junker was a hufschmeid, or blacksmith, which corresponds to his later occupation.

I am still working on locating a ship's passenger list and learning whether John immigrated on his own or as part of chain migration, but this success story was my first discovery of a German ancestral village. Linnich, located on the Rur River, dates back to the 9th century and was part of the historical Duchy of Jülich. The area has been shaped by various rulers, Celts, and abbeys throughout its long history and was heavily bombed during World War II. 

Willkommen zu Hause! Welcome home, John! 

Copyright 2026 by Lisa A. Oberg, GeneaGator: Vignettes of Yesteryear. All Rights Reserved.

SGS2026: Hidden Half

For Women's History Month, the writing prompt for the SGS Write All About it! group is #hiddenhalf. The theme was inspired by a classic reference work, The Hidden Half of the Family by Christina Kassabian Schaefer. 

I have several "hidden" women in my family history, I have written about previously in Hidden Mothers and Hellion Fathers, including Mary Grainger Keely Johns (1834-1871) and Catherine Thomas Younker (1834-1912). 

Since I first wrote about Mary and Catherine, I have made some headway by connecting them to their parents and gaining a deeper understanding of their lives. There is certainly more to learn, but their stories are both starting to take shape. The third woman, however, Mariam Williams Kirkendall, remains stubbornly cloaked by obscurity. 

The details of Mariam's life are scant:

• Mariam Williams was married to Robert Kirkendall in Green County, Wisconsin, on 26 August 1838.
• Robert Kirkendall appears as a head of household in the 1840 Federal Census for Green County, Wisconsin, with one female household member between the ages of 15 and under 20, presumably Mariam.
• Mariam and Robert were divorced in 1849. Their divorce records are the stuff of headline news today, with both sides alleging infidelity, drunkenness, and more. In keeping with the time, custody of their two daughters, Eliza Ann Kirkendall Shultz (1841-1929) and Mary Lucas Kirkendall Eastwood (1843-1928), was awarded to their father. 
• Mariam is mentioned as Robert's first wife in his 1897 obituary, which seems unusual.

Unidentified hidden mother photo. 

Mariam's fate following the 1849 divorce remains a mystery. There is a Miriam Kirkendoll in the 1850 Federal Census, living in neighboring Lafayette County, Wisconsin, with Elisabeth and John Chilton.

Mariam and Elisabeth are close in age, both born in Delaware, suggesting they might be sisters or some other relationship. The Chiltons have a five-year-old daughter named Miriam, which also strengthens the possibility of a family connection. 

Also enumerated with the family is two-year-old Caroline Kirkendall. There was no mention of Caroline in Robert and Mariam's divorce. Was she the result of the infidelity alleged in the divorce? Because of her young age, did she remain with her mother? Was she born after the divorce was finalized? Or, did the enumerator simply make a mistake, and Caroline was actually the daughter of John and Elisabeth? Since the 1850 census does not indicate how members of a household are related, confirmation of relationships requires additional research.  

Neither Mariam nor Caroline has been located in subsequent censuses. John Chilton died in 1857, and his probate file indicates his wife, Elisabeth, predeceased him, leaving two daughters, Louisa and Mariam. Caroline Chilton does appear in later Wisconsin records, but at this point, potential relationships are just speculation. So, for now, Mariam's story is still shrouded in mystery, and her half of the story remains hidden.

Copyright 2026 by Lisa A. Oberg, GeneaGator: Vignettes of Yesteryear. All Rights Reserved.