GeneaGator

Saturday, May 16, 2026

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.

Saturday, April 11, 2026

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!

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.

Friday, February 27, 2026

SGS2026: Scandal!

Nebraska, 1900 Federal Census: Soundex and Population Schedules.
Soundex: S421/424 Ralph thru S513 (NARA Series T1057, Roll 89).

For the second SGS Write All About It! writing prompt, I chose SCANDAL. I didn't have a particular scandal in mind, but the more I thought about it, the more I was drawn back to the first ancestral scandal I discovered years ago, when I was just starting my genealogical journey, and one that remains unparalleled in the family secrets I have unearthed.

Back in yesteryear, the best entrée to the U.S. census was the Soundex. For genealogists, the creation of the Soundex was a transformative project conducted by the Works Progress Administration during the Great Depression. Beginning with the 1880 census, indexers used the Soundex phonetic indexing system to group individuals with similar-sounding surnames, enabling officials to efficiently locate those who needed proof of age in order to apply for newly established Social Security benefits. In addition to the 1880 census, the 1900, 1910, and 1920 censuses were also later indexed. For anyone doing genealogy before 1990, you know how critical these indexes were to your research.

Years ago, when I enrolled in an introductory genealogy course, the instructor opened her first lecture with the announcement, “If you can’t live with the knowledge your great-grandfather was a horse thief, leave now!” My first inkling that my great-great-great-grandfather, Cuyler Shultz, might fall into this dubious category of ancestors came while searching the Soundex for the 1900 Census, when I discovered that Cuyler was an inmate at the Nebraska State Penitentiary in Lincoln. Questions and rampant speculations immediately began racing through my mind about how he got there and what followed in the years until his death.

But first, before I could answer those questions, I needed to start at the beginning. I had been researching my paternal Shultz ancestors, Cuyler and Eliza, who originated in Wisconsin, later moved to Iowa, before settling in Nebraska in the 1880s. I was able to trace them relatively easily in the census using the printed indexes to the 1850, 1860, and 1870 censuses, using the process of elimination and winding and rewinding many microfilm reels.

When I got to 1900, however, I noted that Cuyler was not enumerated with his large family in Grand Island, Nebraska. The enumerator indicated that his wife, Eliza, was married and not widowed, so I set out to find out whether he was living elsewhere or had been excluded for some reason. As I browsed the Soundex, I found Cuyler, but was surprised to learn he was living in Lancaster County, Nebraska, home of the state capital, Lincoln. As I read further down the card, I almost fell out of my chair when I read the words "Nebraska State Penitentiary"! Cuyler was 69 years old at the time, so I didn't know how long he had been incarcerated. Fortunately, Nebraska is one of the states for which the 1890 Veterans' census survived, and he was enumerated in Grand Island, where I expected to find him, so I was able to narrow down my search for his crime(s) to 1890-1900.

So, what happened and when, and how'd he end up in the Pen?

History of Hall County, Nebraska,
by A.F. Buechler and R.J. Barr, 1920.

On a research trip to the FamilySearch Library in Salt Lake City, I located a history of Hall County that provided a few scant details and a date. There were no online newspapers to consult at the time, so I wrote to a local genealogical society and paid for a researcher to check area newspapers for me.

After a few months, I received a tantalizingly large envelope arrived in the mail with a treasure trove of articles about the trial. To say it was the talk of the town is an understatement. In a nutshell, in a fit of rage, Cuyler shot his neighbor, J.P. Farr, over long-standing disagreements unprovoked and without remorse. During the course of the trial, which centered around an insanity defense that Cuyler himself rejected, it was revealed that, as a result of injuries received during the Civil War battle of Shiloh, Cuyler had shrapnel in his head. He had a history of erratic behavior after the war and was violent and a heavy drinker as a way to manage his ongoing pain.

Omaha Daily Bee, March 21, 1892, Page 1.

Regardless, he was convicted and sentenced to hang. At some point, his sentence was reduced to life without parole. After nearly 10 years in prison, the Shultz family petitioned the governor of Nebraska, Ezra P. Savage, for clemency for Cuyler, citing his advanced age and the family's pledge to manage his activities. Clemency was granted, and Cuyler was released in 1901. After their youngest daughter, Ida, was married in 1910, Cuyler moved to the Nebraska Soldiers and Sailors Home in Grand Island, where he lived until he died on June 10, 1917.

Curiously, his obituary makes no mention of his murder conviction, but does make note of his Civil War service. His daughter, Christina, left behind an 80-page manuscript with many minute details of her life, and also neglects to mention anything about his murder conviction, although she does speak very candidly about his alcohol consumption, how her mother had to sell eggs and butter to provide food for the family when her husband didn't, and his violence towards his family.

I have since located other direct ancestors with less-than-stellar histories, as well as nefarious activities of extended family members, but Cuyler holds the prize for being the most notorious of them all!

SGS Write All About It! — Outfit

Army Nurse Corps
Uniform, 1917

I agreed to coordinate a yearlong writing program for the Seattle Genealogical Society. While I don't have everything plotted out for the entire year yet, I do know I want to offer writing prompts for those who are interested. I am a big fan of Amy Johnson Crow's 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks guided writing practice and wanted to do something similar on a smaller scale. Our group will meet ten times in 2026, so I picked ten topics at random as writing prompts. Very random!

The first prompt, OUTFIT, is inspired by the book Love, Loss, and What I Wore by Ilene Beckerman. Do you have memories of an outfit you wore to an event? Do you have a wedding dress, baby clothes, or other heirlooms passed down in your family? Rather than write about something from my family, I am going to take this topic in a different direction!

I have been researching the history of Base Hospital 50, a World War I hospital unit, since 2016, in particular the stories of the unit's 104 nurses, many of whom were from the Pacific Northwest. Through a Facebook group I am a member of, Army Nurse Corps, 1917-1919, I connected with a collector who purchased the uniform of one of those nurses, Minnie Andrews West. In the course of our conversation about Minnie and her uniform, we connected with a member of the American Society of Military Insignia Collectors (ASMIC) who recognized that the shoulder patch on Minnie's uniform was particularly rare.

Base Hospital 50 was organized by the University of Washington (UW) in 1917, and largely staffed by physicians, nurses, and enlisted men from the Pacific Northwest. Shoulder insignia, or unit patches, didn't come into use until World War I, and there was an approval process for designs to be authorized. The purple and gold insignia for Base Hospital 50 (BH50), echoing the colors of the UW and its iconic W, was never officially authorized, and the patches weren't distributed until after the war ended. As a result, there are few photos of BH50 personnel with the patch on their left sleeve. Most of the nurses had photos taken in uniform before embarking to serve abroad. Bringing together the three threads, I was fortunate to collaborate with the two collectors and publish an article about Minnie and her uniform in the Trading Post, the collector's magazine published by ASMIC.

The article goes into Minnie's life story, but for this post, I wanted to focus a bit more on the uniforms worn by members of the Army Nurse Corps. Although there were enlisted nurses in the U.S. Army by 1917, the large numbers of nurses needed during World War I were organized under the auspices of the Red Cross, which provided specific uniform regulations.

The regular uniform of the American-trained nurse consisted of:

High-necked serge dress worn
by Chief Nurse Julia Stimson.

Dark blue Norfolk suit, black buttons
Dark blue high-necked serge dress
Long dark blue double-breasted coat, black buttons
Dark blue silk blouse, high-necked
White silk and cotton blouses, high-necked
Dark blue velour hat for winter
Black straw hat for summer
Nurses who have the long dark blue capes are permitted to wear them, but they are not to be thrown open in order to show the red lining.

Insignia:

On the lapel of the coat, “U.S.” and a caduceus with a small red cross.
Red Cross Nurse badge pin

As pictured above, a Norfolk suit was a long, fitted jacket with patch pockets and a gored skirt. Underneath, most women wore a white blouse or "shirtwaist" with lace-up boots. Abercrombie & Fitch, then an upscale sporting goods store provided uniforms for many women who served during WWI.

How Minnie's uniform ended up in the hands of a collector in Canada, to be sold to another Army nurse enthusiast and historian half a world away, is unknown, but it is so exciting that her uniform survived, with the unexpected bonus of her BH50 shoulder sleeve insignia!

Sunday, August 4, 2019

10 'Easy' Things About Genealogy

I am fortunate to have several like-minded genealogy friends and we get together regularly to share our successes and crowdsource ideas for working through brick walls. So this week's #52Ancestors prompt "Easy" got me to thinking. The suggestion was to write about an ancestral line that had been easier to research than others, but my mind went in a different direction. There are many mistakes my friends and I have discussed over the years that are all too easy to make when researching your family history, as well. Here are just a few that come to mind.

It is easy to:

Stick to the mainline and forget to research your FAN club (Friends, Acquaintances, and Neighbors.) Follow collateral lines, e.g. siblings, particularly for obituaries and death certificates.
Romanticize your ancestor's motives or overlay current values onto the lives of our ancestors. Our ancestors were criminals, slaveholders, bigots, bigamists, and all manner of other things, which can be disturbing to learn. Gather your facts and read more about the viewpoints people held at that time to broaden your perspective of the influences that shaped their lives.
Assume because you have a few facts you have the full story. Just because your ancestor is in the same location in 1900 and 1910 doesn't mean they stayed in the same place the entire decade. Back up your assumptions with facts.
Get so caught up in researching you forget to document your findings. Have you ever had to retrace your steps in pursuit of a record you found previously and can't find again? Then you understand the importance of taking the time to document your sources.
Limit your research to what is easily obtainable online. Ah, the allure of armchair genealogy! Yes, we all want to lounge around in our pajamas and gather as many records that way as we can. But, eventually, if you want to do a thorough search you have to venture beyond what is available online.
Forget now fluid spelling can be. Search engines have gotten smarter and smarter at being able to make connections between similarly sounding names. You still have to do your homework, however, and come up with a list of alternative spellings as well as leverage other details to make locate records when the name is completely wrong or poorly transcribed.
Assume that all of the children enumerated in the census have the same parents.
Assume any of the details at all in the census are correct. They are a great guidepost, but can you corroborate each fact with other records?
Assume any of the information found on an uncited online family tree is correct. Online trees can be incredibly useful, but undocumented research should be viewed with a healthy dose of skepticism.
But most of all, it is so, so easy to get so caught up in researching you find yourself tumbling down the proverbial "rabbit hole" staying up way past your bedtime, allowing dust bunnies to accumulate and ignoring other household chores! But, unlike the other things on this list, is that really such a bad thing?

Sunday, June 16, 2019

#52Ancestors: Namesake

Depending on your perspective there either aren't many namesakes in my family tree or they are everywhere! "Huh?!" you may be thinking to yourself. Let me explain. My maternal ancestors were from Luxembourg, a small country located in Western Europe. If you're not quite sure where Luxembourg is located it is nestled between Germany, France, and Belgium. And, it is a separate county, not part of Germany as many assume!

The Protestant Reformation, beginning in 1519, largely passed Luxembourg by and as a result, the county remains largely Catholic to this day. Catholics practice infant baptism and one of the elements of the Rite is selecting godparents whose duty it was to ensure the child's religious upbringing in the event something happened to his or her parents.

As part of the sacrament of baptism, naming patterns through the 19th century were very predictable. Infants were named for their same-sex godparent. So you could say that all of my Catholic ancestors are the namesake of their godparents. Since an infant's parents are never godparents for their own child if the child had a unique name a likely assumption would be an aunt or uncle, or other family member or neighbor, with that name was their godparent. The parish baptismal records generally include the names of the godparents and it is always important to research what the relationship was to the parents and baby.

As illustrated below, the godmother of the infant Caroline is named Caroline. In fact, her godmother was also her maternal aunt.

Understanding the naming patterns of our ancestors can provide important clues to relationships. By the beginning of the 20th century, Luxembourg immigrants to the United States and subsequent generations began moved away from this tradition. But even then there are still threads of the tradition to follow. For example, my grandfather, Eugene Pierre, received his middle name from his godfather — and grandfather — John Pierre. The only problem with this practice is generation-upon-generation of instances of Anna Maria, Catherine, Nicholas, and John!

Monday, May 27, 2019

#52Ancestors: At the Cemetery

Memorial Day dedication of Suresnes American Cemetery, 1919.

Today is Memorial Day in the United States, a day set aside to remember those who died while serving their country. It is especially fitting then that this week's #52Ancestors prompt is "At the Cemetery". Over the course of my research, I have had the wonderful good fortune to visit many of the cemeteries where my ancestors are buried. Equally moving – and meaningful – was the opportunity to visit several of America's overseas cemeteries last year as part of a World War I centennial tour of France.

I had been researching students, alumni and staff from the University of Washington who died during World War I and I was looking forward to seeing the terrain where the final battles were fought and the final resting places for those who died there. It was a wonderful experience and it is well worth the side trip to visit any of the cemeteries administered by the American Battle Monuments Commission. Founded after World War I to manage the final burials of America's war dead, the Commission later because responsible for the cemeteries created World War II, as well.

Detail from the Chapel mosaic.

The first cemetery we visited on the tour was Suresnes American Cemetery. Located just outside Paris, it has a beautiful view of the city. The American military cemetery at Suresnes was established in 1917 by the Graves Registration Service of the Army Quartermaster Corps. A majority of those buried there died of wounds or sickness in hospitals located in Paris or at other places in the Services of Supply. Many were victims of the influenza epidemic of 1918–1919.

The cemetery was dedicated by President Woodrow Wilson during Memorial Day ceremonies of 1919. The above photo is an original press photo from that event, and the caption on the back states "One of the most moving scenes in American war history took place in 1919 on Memorial Day, when President Wilson visited Suresnes cemetery near Paris. Here is a portion of the crowd, gathered on that day, in the American section of the cemetery." Wilson opened his remarks with the statement "No one with a heart in his breast, no American, no lover of humanity, can stand in the presence of these graves without the most profound emotion."

Anytime you have the opportunity to honor America's war dead, whether it is your local national cemetery, Arlington or one of American's overseas cemeteries, take some time to pay your respects "at the cemetery."

#52Ancestors: At Worship

Sister M. Salome (Caroline Rose) Ney
1879-1929

There was no doubt in my mind who I would write about when the #52Ancestors prompt "at worship" was announced. My great-great aunt, Caroline Rose Ney who entered a Dominican convent in Racine, Wisconsin, in 1904.

Back in my earliest days of genealogy research, I asked my grandfather for some details about his aunts and uncles. Family folklore has it my great-grandfather had no interest in becoming a farmer in Wisconsin and, following his marriage, moved to Chicago where he worked for the Armour Grain Company and my grandfather was born.

Like so many of that era, my great-grandmother developed tuberculosis and the prevailing wisdom of the era suggested the Western climate might help. All of these factors contributed to the fact I didn't have the highest expectations my grandfather would remember much as his contact with his extended family was limited to just a handful of visits.

I was soon proven wrong! My grandfather quickly rattled off the names of his three maternal aunts and uncle. His father was one of eleven children and Grandpa was able to recall all their names, in spite of the fact that he never really knew most of his aunts and uncles, except for one. One of his father’s sisters became a nun, he thought, Sister Salome might have been her name. “What was her name before?” I asked. “I don’t know if I ever heard it”, was his reply.

Family tradition also suggests Caroline's parents weren't thrilled to have their daughter enter the convent. If that is true their reasons are lost to time, but one factor certainly could have been the knowledge their daughter would be separated from them for the rest of her life. At the turn of the century, becoming a nun meant leaving your own family behind to become a part of a larger family of people dedicated to serving God in various ways. The Racine Dominicans, or the Congregation of the Sisters of St. Dominic to use their full name, were a teaching order of German origins. Many of the schools associated with Catholic parishes throughout Southeast Wisconsin, and beyond, were served by Racine Dominicans so they were certainly familiar to parochially-educated Caroline and her siblings growing up in Holy Cross, Wisconsin.

Why Caroline felt called to a life of service has also been lost to time, but together with a cousin, Mary Mueller, entered the convent and both became teachers themselves in schools around Wisconsin and Michigan. Caroline died at the age of 49 following an operation. Her siblings were especially bitter because they had pooled funds for her to have the surgery in a hospital but the operation was supposedly arranged more economically with the extra funds going to the convent. No records exist which support this but Caroline was the first of her siblings to die and I'm sure her brothers and sisters were distraught at having already lost her, so to speak, to the convent and then to lose her completely.

Port Washington Zeitung
Thursday, September 1, 1904, pg 4.

On Saturday [August 27], Miss Caroline Ney, a daughter of the
well-known Mr. J. P. Ney von Town Belgium, was taken up
as a sister of the Notre-Dame Convent in Racine.

When I first began researching Caroline I had no idea what order she belonged to and little to go on after she entered religious life. The nuns I knew growing up had long since abandoned their habits in favor of white blouses and serviceable skirts and sensible shoes. Little did I know the answer was staring me right in the face! I checked out a book from the library, Religious Orders of Women, which was like a catalog containing the mission, location, entrance requirements of each order to help girls in the 1960s considering religious life select an order they might be suited to. Sort of like a sorority rush! More importantly, it included many photos of sisters in their habits. This was before the sweeping reforms of Vatican II when many sisters adopted the more modern garb people associate them with today. A quick look at the book revealed very few orders had WHITE habits and those that did were all Dominicans. Huh, watching The Flying Nun hadn't adequately educated me for habit identification!

Shortly after determining Caroline had been a Dominican I acquired a parish history which listed all of the people, including Caroline, who had entered religious life and provided the name of the specific convent. I don't know why she was given the name Mary Salome, but after entering the convent her family never referred to her as Caroline again, even in surviving correspondence between her two of brothers, Nick and Joe.

There are many terminal branches on our family tree because the person died young, never married, or, as in the case of Sister Salome, entered into religious life. For me, their stories are no less interesting and as equally deserving of our attention and family members with dozens of descendants. Only when we look at the entire family can we fully appreciate the influences and nuances of their interconnectivity. The story of Sister Salome has always been one of those essential keys. No less critical for me than understanding the events which caused my branch of the family to move West. This is why I consider myself a family historian more than a genealogist. All the begats are very interesting, to be sure, but it's the stories that lead us to understand the context of each family's dynamic.

Friday, April 19, 2019

#52Ancestors: Out of Place

In 2014, I began researching each of the Gold Stars listed on the University of Washington's World War I memorial in anticipation of an exhibit about the war and its impact on the University, Seattle, and beyond. The exhibit was on display in the UW Libraries Special Collections in late 2016 and an online version can be found here.

Of the fifty-eight individuals identified as having either attended or graduated from the University of Washington who served during World War I, and made the ultimate sacrifice, only one remained completely elusive in verifying any details about his life story: F. E Bueler. Or maybe it was Buehler? His name was recorded in two different ways on the UW’s memorials.

Aside from the two possible names, the only other scant information available came from the Sixteenth Biennial Report of the Board of Regents which lists him among the UW's casualties:

F. E. Bueler, lieutenant, 116th Infantry.

Died at Lyons, France.

Initially, I focused my efforts on locating a roster of the 116th but that was unsuccessful. It seemed unlikely to me that an officer, a lieutenant, would leave so little trace! I tried every spelling variation of Bueler/Buehler I could think of to no avail. I suspected at least the last three letters were likely to be correct but searching *ler using left-hand truncation didn't yield any likely suspects either.

Frank Ernest Bleuler (1890-1919)

By the time the exhibit rolled around, I was no closer to knowing anything concrete about this former UW student. I had to move on to other research and settle for using a placeholder image in the exhibit. Periodically over the years I would dust off Bueler and try again but still no luck! Until last week, that is! I wasn't even searching for Bueler, rather I was looking for some statistics relating to the 1918 influenza epidemic, but one of the search results linked to Gold Star Honor Roll: A record of Indiana men and women who died in the service of the United States and the allied nations in the world war, 1914-1918. I clicked on the link, not really expecting much when what to my wondering eyes should appear but the name Frank Ernest Bleuler! BLEULER! Even before I finished reading the brief entry I was sure this was the elusive F. E. Bueler I had been seeking.

Suddenly the pieces began falling together. Turns out nothing in the Regent's Report was quite right. Of course, the most obvious thing is somewhere along the line a critical letter fell out of place which led to all the confusion. The practice of the time of using initials made matching up the details even more challenging. Also, Frank served in the 166th, not the 116th. Finally, although Frank died in France, as noted, he died in a hospital in Blois, miles from Lyon. An only child, Frank's parents Dr. Ernest Bleuler and his wife, the former Mary Helen Thompson, elected to have their son's remains returned to the U.S. and he is buried in South Bend, Indiana.

Tenacity and serendipity both played a role in finally restoring Frank's story to the larger narrative of the University of Washington's Gold Stars. Although it took far longer to uncover the details of his life than it did for most of his fellow Gold Stars it is so gratifying that Lieutenant Frank Ernest Bleuler can now be remembered for his service and sacrifice. No longer out of place.

#52Ancestors: DNA

I've been hovering on the periphery of DNA research for several years now. I am grateful I was able to test my parents and siblings. Cousins, near and far, have also tested in recent years enabling me to confirm our connections and that my family tree is accurate, thus far.

I have cross-referenced my results between Ancestry, Family Tree DNA and MyHeritage and uploaded to GedMatch and... that's a far as my analysis has gone. Until now.

Last night I attended the first is a series of workshops about analyzing your DNA matches. I am excited by the prospect of better being able to refine my understanding of how I am connected to other individuals whose DNA matches mine. But, I'm not there yet. So, for the moment my DNA story is still a work in progress!

Monday, April 8, 2019

#52Ancestors: Brick Wall

Brick Wall! If ever there was a concept every genealogist could relate to this is it. Those dead ends in our family tree languishing without the essential clues necessary to enable us to answer those fundamental questions we're all searching for such as "Who are the parents?" and "How did they get here?"

One such brick wall in my own research was my third great grandmother, Katie Thomas. For years all I really knew about her was her name and that supposedly she was born in Germany. I knew her son, my great-great grandfather, John Hubert Younker, was born in Illinois and, from the census, I was able to theorize she had likely been married previously.

Eventually, I connected with a distant cousin descended from one of the children from her first marriage. He was able to provide important details about her life in the United States before she married my great-great-great grandfather, also named John Hubert, but he didn't know anything about her life before immigrating, either.

I located the marriage of Katie and John Hubert in 1870 in Logan County, Illinois, using old-fashioned footwork, scrolling through a microfilm page-by-page. John Younker is not an entirely unique name and tracking a single man with a dearth of other clues made researching him inconclusive.

Discovering John Hubert Sr. was a veteran of the Civil War, and the subsequent pension file I ordered from the National Archives and Records Administration, provided relatively scant information but I was able to glean one essential detail from a returned envelope for Katie's pension check. Her address was crossed out and "deceased" was scrawled across the envelope. The envelope was postmarked January of 1913, giving me an approximate window for when she died, information which had eluded me thus far. Her headstone frustratingly gives only her date of birth.

Katie didn't have it easy after her second husband, John, died in 1886. His pension file revealed she made several attempts to receive a widow's pension. So marginal was her existence in the 1900 census, all that is recorded is her last name!

I knew from earlier records that Katie had a sister Gertrude close in age who also immigrated from Germany about the same time she did, and with whom she resided in 1900. There are so many spelling variations for Younker, that as more Illinois newspapers were digitized I also made sure to regularly search Gertrude's married name, Vef, as there were fewer spellings to consider. Remember your FAN Club! Especially when researching your female ancestors. All too often the detail that smashes the brick wall comes from broadening your search! Which is exactly what happened with Katie.

I located a social item in a newspaper mentioning a man named E. H. Thomas had visited with his aunt Gertrude Vef. Thomas!? Did another sibling -- a brother, perhaps -- also immigrate? Sure enough, researching E. H. (Elmer Herman) led to his father, Conrad. Details I was able to uncover about Conrad Thomas led me to a family tree on MyHeritage submitted by a woman located in Germany.

Finally, I had a family for Katie. Searching Archion, the German digital archives site, led to civil records for several generations of the Thomas family. Tenacity, leveraging all the information available to me, and the addition of new digital resources all contributed to my eventual success in determining who Katie's parents were. There are still unanswered questions, when she immigrated, for example, but her story has grown to far beyond a birthdate on a headstone.

Anna Gertrude Thomas Vef (l) and Anna Catharina Thomas Kible Younker, (r) circa 1900.
Marriage record of Mrs. Catharine Kaible and John H. Yunker, 8 September 1870.

Thursday, April 4, 2019

#52Ancestors: In the News

Newspapers are such a wonderful source for details about the lives of our ancestors. Even when we don't find articles specifically about every individual in our family there are so many other insights to be gained about the times our ancestors lived in.

One such example is Hezzie Carter Purdom. Daughter of one of the first women practitioners of osteopathy, Hezzie also became a doctor, as well. Her husband, Frederic Everett Moore, a native of California, attended the same Kirksville, Missouri osteopathy school as Hezzie. They were married in Kansas City on June 1, 1903, and shortly thereafter set up a joint practice in LaGrande, Oregon. Eventually, they moved their practice to Portland. At some point, however, they became expatriates in France, where Hezzie apparently finally reached her limit with dear old Fred.*

They were divorced in Paris on June 15, 1927. Hezzie wasn't content with her newly-minted divorce decree, however. According to a wire story picked up by dozens of newspapers across the country, Hezzie further distanced herself from her former husband by having divorce announcements printed. Described as a tasteful lavender, the scented cards clarified she was now an independent woman, and that she had severed her relationship with Fred both personally and professionally.

Fred would die in France just two years later. His sister arranged for his remains to be returned to the United States, where he is buried at Lakewood Cemetery in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Hezzie died in San Bernardino, California, in 1941. She was buried alongside her family at Forest Hill Cemetery in Kansas City. A woman ahead of her times in so many ways!

* For the curious, dear old Fred is my first cousin, four times removed!

Thursday, March 21, 2019

#52Ancestors: 12

The Future Genealogist

Twelve, twelve, twelve... what to write about? Since last week's #52Ancestors prompt was "large", I didn't necessarily want to write about another oversize family so soon. I'm not a huge Seattle Seahawks fan, so that particular 12 was out. I finally found my inspiration when I was reminiscing with a friend about elementary school and was reminded I was 12 years old when wrote my first genealogy query letter, and began to lay the foundation for my future passion for genealogy.

It was 1976, a heady time to be contemplating family history. Yep, I'm a Bicentennial baby, when it comes to genealogy research. Who remembers the Freedom Train which traversed the country with artifacts from America's first 200 years? I do! Not only was the United States celebrating its independence from England, but the publication of Alex Haley's Roots was also gripping readers for its depiction of the experiences of generations of an African-American family from slavery to freedom.

I have written about some elements of how I became interested in family history previously, but to recap I was interested in genealogy long before I understood there was a word for venerating your ancestors. In my case, it arrived in the form of photographs in an old suitcase at my grandmother's house which I regularly perused.

Eventually – fed up with my many questions most likely – my grandmother suggested I write to her brother Ralph and ask him for additional information. At first, I thought I was hearing things. Write to Uncle Ralph!? Are you kidding me? The same Uncle Ralph who was the childhood nemesis in many of my grandmother's stories? The brother closest in age to her, and therefore each other's biggest tormenter? That Uncle Ralph?

Once I realized she was serious, I did as she suggested and my great-uncle wrote back with many details, and more importantly, a pedigree chart he had hand-sketched that I would study over the coming the years with great intensity. As I was then in sixth grade, I didn't have many opportunities to pursue some of these details further until I was older but it was always there in the back of my mind. I listened intently for any new detail mentioned in the stories my grandparents, aunts, and uncles told. Like a squirrel hoarding its acorns, I filed away all these little nuggets of information until the time was right for me to pick up that pedigree chart again in earnest! Thank you, Uncle Ralph, for that wonderful start. Maybe brothers aren't always so bad, after all!

Inspired by those tantalizing details from my great uncle and wanting to know more, I remember reading my first genealogy how-to book, Jeane Eddy Westin's Finding Your Roots, published in 1977. I learned all kinds of new things like how some surnames were based in historical occupations and how to fill out a pedigree chart. I also learned about how different cultures have traditional naming patterns and starting with "attic archeology" to gather was information you already have.

I read about the mysterious Family History Library, in Salt Lake City, Utah, and their vast collection of microfilm. At the time I couldn't even fathom what that meant or how invaluable it would come to be to my research. By today's standards the book now seems both quaint and antiquated, but at the time it was my first glimpse into the world of genealogy. My 12-year-old self was poised with her nose pressed to the glass just burning with anticipation waiting for the virtual door to the past to open!

References:

A later edition of Finding Your Roots is available from Internet Archive if you want to remind yourself – or learn! – what genealogy research was like before the World Wide Web and mass digitization!

Tuesday, March 19, 2019

#52Ancestors: Large

Cosmopolitan, January 1919

My maternal ancestors were Catholic so I have no shortage of large families in my family tree: 9, 11, 13, 15 children! But instead of focusing on one of them for this week's #52 Ancestors prompt, #Large, I am instead going to share the backstory behind a recent large family I happened to trip over.

By day I am a librarian and several years ago I became interested in the local history of World War I in my community. This led to curating an exhibit about wartime activities in my area, researching numerous young men and women who lost their lives in service to their county, and most recently teaching a seminar course about pop culture during the World War I-era. In other words, I have been living in the past lane – a century ago to be exact – for some time! As part of this ongoing passion, I regularly scour eBay and other online sites for postcards, and other ephemera, from the era. I recently purchased a magazine from January 1919, with an interesting inscription on the cover:

To Susan D. Lyman — mother of Grant H. Lyman —

one of the 8,000 U.S. Marines

He gave his life for that free-men may live —

He is buried on the sacred soil of France.

Richard R. Lyman Dec 28, 1918.

The issue of Cosmopolitan, with its cover illustration "An American Beauty" by well-known artist of the day, Harrison Fisher, was intriguing to me, in particular, because of the reference to Grant's burial in France. I was lucky enough to win the auction and when the magazine arrived I set out to find more about Grant, and his mother, Susan.

I went to the American Battle Monuments Commission to identify where exactly Grant was buried. His headstone indicated he served from Utah. That detail coupled with his surname, Lyman, made me think his family might possibly be Mormon (or, more properly, Latter Day Saints). My guess proved accurate and I learned Grant was the son of Francis Marion Lyman and his plural wife, Susan Delilah Callister. Both Francis and Susan were connected to many prominent early leaders of the LDS church. Grant was one of at least 22 children born to Francis by three wives. Grant's mother, Susan, was Francis' third wife and she was the mother of five other children. A half-brother of Grant's, Richard Roswell Lyman, was the signer of the magazine which was addressed to Grant's mother.

Grant Herbert Lyman was born on May 10, 1896, in Fillmore, Utah, the third child from his parents' marriage. He enlisted with the United States Marine Corps in Salt Lake City, Utah, on May 6, 1917. He arrived in France in February 1917, and died of wounds received in action near Chateau Thierry on June 17, 1918, just a month past his 22nd birthday. His mother, Susan, was on his mind at the end as a nurse wrote that Grant's final wish was "Will you please write a letter to my mother and tell her she is all the world to me." Susan would visit Grant's gravesite in July of 1930 with a government-sponsored Gold Star Mother Pilgrimage. A chance purchase on eBay led to the story of one young man, from a very large family, who gave all for his country.

Vignettes of yesteryear

I am Luxembourger. I am English, Irish, Scottish and Welsh. I am Belgian, Dutch, German and Swiss. My ancestors immigrated in the 17th century, the 18th century and the 19th century. Through a quirk of fate I immigrated in the 20th century.

My ancestors fought for Independence. My ancestors fought to preserve the Union and they fought to secede from it. My ancestors were slave-holders and abolitionists. They were criminals, teachers, farmers and more. They were Quaker, Catholic, Lutheran and tent revivalists.

I am the sum total of all those who came before me and yet my own person. Genealogy research leads to an understanding and appreciation of history. I am both American and a citizen of the world.

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