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Showing posts with label Holy Cross. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Holy Cross. Show all posts

Monday, May 27, 2019

#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.


Copyright 2019 by Lisa A. Oberg, GeneaGator: Vignettes of Yesteryear. All Rights Reserved.

Thursday, August 13, 2015

Honoring the Home Place

With my aunt, Barbara Leimback, on our
first trip to Holy Cross Cemetery in August, 1992.
Well... one of them anyway. I had a nomadic childhood and stumble for a good answer when people ask me my hometown. It depends on the audience and my answer varies.

My story parallels that of generations before me. If there was one child who ventured away from their family and hometown over and over again that was my direct ancestor. It is a recurring theme for many, I imagine, whose families made their way west. One such example from my cast of wandering antecedents is Joseph Troll who -- at the time his brother Engelbert's estate was probated in 1866 -- was "supposed dead, last heard from in California 12 years since." 1 Fortunately not all of my ancestors were as negligent as Joseph in keeping their families informed of their whereabouts.

Now, in a curious turn of events, here I am drawn to retracing their steps backwards and returning to the communities that originally nurtured my ancestors. One such place is the unincorporated village of Holy Cross located about 7 miles north of Port Washington in Ozaukee County, Wisconsin. Ozaukee County holds the distinction of being the smallest county in Wisconsin. Yet, it is the site of the largest settlement of immigrants to the United States from one of the smallest countries in Europe: Luxembourg. And, incredibly, at 1,118 mi2 tiny Ozaukee County is larger than Luxembourg's 998 mi2!

I ended my trip to Wisconsin earlier this month with my traditional pilgrimage to Holy Cross Cemetery. On a overcast morning -- unusual for Wisconsin in August! -- I checked in with the greatest concentration of my ancestors buried in one place. A cool, gentle breeze rustled through the cornfields which surround the cemetery where it is so quiet the sounds of birds singing was the only other thing I heard. The cemetery is a serene, well-maintained place and after many visits I know just where to go and who to see! My great-great grandparents John Peter Ney, his wife Margaret Mans, John Evangelist Uselding and his wife Catherine Lauters are buried there; as well as great-great-great grandparents Josephine Hemmer, John Nicholas Uselding, Anna Maria Bastendorff, Nicholas Lauters and Margaret Bourton. Several miles away Anton Mans and Catherine Plier are buried at St. Mary's Cemetery.

Whether is it Twin Falls, Idaho, Gold Hill, Oregon, or Holy Cross, Wisconsin, I can rarely pass through ancestral home places without a detour through the local cemetery. On one hand it grounds me and the tangible evidence of my ancestors in the form of their headstones remind me of who and where I came from. It also inspires me to continue searching for the details that help tell the story of their life beyond the spare facts captured on those stones. The Luxembourg national motto is "Mir wรถlle bleiwe wat mir sin!" -- We want to remain what we are! -- and my cemetery visits are just one way I honor and live out what I am by remembering all those who came before me.



1. St. Louis County, Missouri, probate case files, estate no. 7404, Engelbert Troll (1866), Probate file, 19 May 1866; Probate Court Clerk’s Office, Clayton.