James Oliver Fowler's Last Sleep

By now, you know the little angels who passed away too soon tug at my heart. James Oliver Fowler is no exception. His brief existence, and this solitary post-mortem photo, a haunting reminder of just how challenging times were during the depression.

James was born approximately June 1930. I say "approximately" because his father, who was the informant on his death certificate, wasn't sure of his exact date of birth. The family had seven other children at the time (ranging from 1 year old to 17) and, understandably, during the stressful time of losing a child, it isn't surprising he may not have been able to recall the specific date. His birth date is shown as "don't know" and his age "about 4 mos."

1930 was toward the beginning of the Great Depression. It heralded a particularly difficult time in the poor communities of Georgia where James was born. It was an area of tremendous poverty and a scarcity of food and resources. Children (as well as adults) often suffered from infections and malnutrition. Families may have delayed seeking medical care for financial reasons. And even when they did make the call for the doctor, or a trip to a hospital, the level of care was far different than today.

James Oliver's cause of death is listed as marasmus and diarrhea, with malnourishment as a contributory factor. Together, these were a deadly triple whammy. Marasmus was a widespread and often fatal form of malnutrition. It caused extreme wasting, with loss of muscle and body fat. He may have suffered from other infections, compounding the problem. His mother may also have been malnourished and simply wasn't able to provide him the nutrition he needed to thrive, I can't imagine the terrible loss, and most likely guilt, his mother must have felt. I hope, with time, she knew she did all she could for him. 

When we think of a 4 month old, we think of a round chubby cheeked little cherub, with pudgy hands and soft squishy legs. But in this post-mortem photo of James, generously shared by an Ancestry member on is father's side. he looks almost like a fragile porcelain doll, his little fingers curled in the familiar grasp of an infant. His eyes are closed, as if he's peacefully napping. This was known as "the last sleep" pose, and this is likely the only photo ever taken of James. While we're somewhat unaccustomed to this type of photo today, it was not at all unusual for the time. It was a way for the family to immortalize the child. It was a memento to be treasured. I'd like to think a copy of this photo was kept in their home, and he was never forgotten. But it just as easily may have been tucked away, quietly taken out as his parents worked through their grief - a poignant reminder of the son they lost.

James Oliver passed away on October 7th, 1930 at 9:00am. He had been under the care of a physician for almost a week. From the death certificate, it appears he may have been seen at home. There is no hospital listed and RFD is shown in the address (likely the rented farm they lived on.) By the time he was seen, it was unlikely there was anything the doctor could have done. His death certificate says he was buried on October 8th, 1930 in Bethel cemetery. I did find a Bethel United Methodist Church cemetery in Dalton, Whitfield, Georgia. Sadly, there's no mention of a memorial for James. There were 9 other unnamed infants buried there, but none with the surname Fowler. 

I am grateful to the Ancestry user who publicly shared this photo, and for her generosity in allowing me to use it for this post. This is the essence of genealogy, of sharing the details we learn with others. Were it not for her gracious spirit, James Oliver Fowler, born after the enumeration date for the 1930 census, and not mentioned in the obituaries of his parents, might have been remembered only by his brief entry in a death index and his death certificate. This lone photo reminds us of his short, yet precious life.

Sleep in peace little one. You will not be forgotten.

Photo courtesy of Melissa Hunter, graciously shared on Ancestry

Edna James, Female Pilot WWII: Remembering the Unrelated

As you sift through your numerous hints, trying to discern the bits and pieces of your ancestor's lives, do you take time to really read the details you know are not related to your family? Do you truly notice the unrelated? Or do you just ignore and move on? Occasionally, a hint for someone not in your tree may offer an interesting glimpse into a part of history you might otherwise overlook.

I admit, I'm usually focused on the person I'm working on. Does the hint seem to match? Yes or no. Sometimes, it takes a little digging...ok, sometimes a lot...but other times it's a simple no. Regardless of why I ignore a hint, I add a brief note how/why I came to the conclusion, just in case I need to re-evaluate in the future. But occasionally, as I'm reviewing, something will pique my interest and I'll read on, even thought I know it's not about someone in my family tree.

Today, I was researching Edna Varnes (1898-1973). She had 3 husbands, one of whom was my 2nd cousin 2x removed (David Reuben James). They were married in 1935. I stumbled on an indexed hint from the U.S., World War II Army Enlistment Records, 1938-1946, for an Edna James who enlisted in the Women's Army Corps, Inactive Reserves, as an Aviation Cadet on October 24, 1942. It's slightly unusual to find a woman enlisting for flight training and I was intrigued. I really wanted her to be my Edna James! Alas, she was single and had completed 4 years of college, ruling her out.

But the Edna James in the hint seemed interesting. At 63" (5'3") tall and just 118 lbs, she was just a little slip of a thing. Imagine her learning to fly an airplane! In WWII, women served an important role in aviation. They were part of the Women's Air Force (WAF), Women's Air Corp (WAC) and Women's Airforce Service Pilots (WASPs) While they weren't involved in active combat, they did fly missions here at home. They moved planes from one area to another, transported cargo, assisted with training flights and most importantly at the time, freed up male pilots for combat missions. Wikipedia has a nice synopsis on these brave, adventurous and important women who flew in WWII. 

I wasn't able to find much about Edna James. I know she was born around 1898. She completed 4 years of college and had a "professional occupation". In 1942, at the age of 44, she was single and felt the calling to both support her country and embark on an interesting future. She hailed from Ohio, and enlisted there. Her service number was A-501308. A quick Google ties this service number back to the Women's Air Corp (WAC). While I wasn't able to pinpoint who her parents were, or anything else about her life, I feel compelled to say "Thank you for your service Edna James.  You helped pave the way for women of the future."

Image by Vlad Min from Pixabay

Biggest Brick Wall: Abijah LeRoy

I've had a solid brick wall at my maternal 2nd great-grandparents since the day I started researching, over 10 years ago. My research started with a family story (now disproven by DNA). The Native American connection I spent years searching for does not exist. My maternal DNA shows primarily England, as well as  Sweden/Denmark, Scotland, Ireland and Norway. Once I had my DNA results in hand, I mistakenly thought removing Native American heritage from the equation was going to lead me somewhere fast. Boy was I wrong. It's like this couple was never born, they seem to appear out of thin air.

The known, my 2nd great grandparents had 6 children. Part of this comes from an elusive message board post about a family bible....though there is no documentation to substantiate, and no information on where I might find a copy of this bible. But, in conjunction with viable census records, the names seem to be accurate (as far as I can tell, one census has nothing but initials for given and middle names but they do line up pretty well.). I've pieced together the following children:

1. Elizann E LeRoy (1839– )
2. Amos Jasper LeRoy (1840–1904)
3. W A LeRoy (1842– )  "A" may stand for Abijah or Arthur
4. Benjamin Franklin LeRoy (1843–possibly1900)
5. Elizabeth Jane LeRoy (1844– )
6. John Robert LeRoy (1847–1927) -  my great-grandfather

From the census records and death certificate of John Robert LeRoy, I believe my 2nd great grandmother was Nancy Williams (possibly middle name Jane if you believe an 1870 census with Benjamin and John in the household also showing someone named Jane and being the correct age). From the same death certificate, his father was listed as Abijob LeRoy. However, other family lore shows Abijah, so I choose to use it (for now, cause I'm not at all convinced it was his given name at all). Abijah does not appear in any census records I can find. 

I've seen old Ancestry message board posts with others looking for Abijah, with the same Native American story in their family lore. Every tree I look at has him listed with no viable documentation, other than the death certificate of his son I've already located. In some trees, Abijah is shown as John or Luke. His father is sometimes attributed as John. But in NONE of the trees do I find any useful documentation. Sure there is an 1830 census record for a John LeRoy in Georgia (where I know he lived), but there's nothing show it's the LeRoy I'm looking for. And at best, I'll still only have numbers of people of various age ranges in the household. It's before the birth of his children...so...no clues to match with anything else. I'm not at all comfortable at this juncture using the 1830 census for anything. 

You'd think DNA results might point me in a direction right? Nope! I have 42 matches to the supposed Abijah (or Abijob or John or Luke) LeRoy and Nancy Williams. I have 39 matches to his supposed father, John. Nothing else. No DNA matches to an as of yet unidentified child from the father John. Everything ends with Abijah and Nancy. To make it more frustrating, all my DNA matches to Abijah are from his sons only (leaving me with questions about his daughters, since they have very similar names and could end up being the same person). It seems strange for a time period around the early 1800's not to have matches to some other children of Abijah's father. Why is Abijah the only child of theirs with DNA matches? Sure, it could be no one has tested. It could be the parents died and he was orphaned...or he legitimately may have been the only offspring (although I tend to doubt this). It just seems very odd to me. 

I've searched all kinds of different ways. I've only found one obit for a child of Abijah and there's no mention of the parents (but it does verify some of his siblings). The death certificate I've located is the only one I've found for any child showing parents. The one brother with the obit did have a death entry but it was just a record book, and parents weren't listed. The obit, from Tennessee, did say the son (Amos) was born in Banks, Georgia...while the majority of records I have are from Whitfield, Georgia... but it hasn't unearthed any new clues for me. All of the children were born prior to the start of birth records in Georgia.

With all my subscriptions, you'd think I'd be able to find obits for a few more of his children. Though, even if I did, they might not mention parents. Southern records of the time are less than detailed. I've considered some records might have been destroyed. And while the FamilySearch wiki shows the Whitfield, Georgia county courthouse was burned in 1864, there was no reported loss of records. I've also considered the family may have migrated from another state (I already know the family lived in and around Georgia and Alabama, but some also lived in Tennessee or had records created there), but broadening searches to nearby states has yielded nothing. FamilySearch shows Abijah born in South Carolina, but there's no documentation there either, save for the same single death certificate of John Robert. 

I checked for any wars during the time I suspect he lived, and the only one was the Mexican-American war. It seems unlikely he'd have had any reason to leave Georgia for this event. There were certainly lots of diseases at the time, he may have died....but there's no burial I can find. He may have left the family and started over under a new name (his son Amos left his family for a time per his obit, but eventually returned), but why no records before then? Perhaps the surname should be LeCroy, Leeroy, Lerry, Lukeroy (yes, I've seen records with all kinds of spellings) or even Lecroix. I've used wildcards and "sounds like" with no success. I'm finding nothing...nothing!...to connect any dots. 

The FamilySearch full text search potentially yielded some Whitfield Georgia deeds with LeRoy's in the right time frame (1850's range) when I "think" Abijah may have died based on no children born after 1847, but to be honest, there were quite a few with the same or similar names (none of them being Abijah or Nancy). Most are showing a John receiving the property, and there's nothing at all to suggest the John in these records is my great-grandfather. Amos and Benjamin were farmers for a time per non-population schedules and property tax digests. The property tax digests just confuse things more because there's one from 1873-1877 showing both a Benjamin and Luke in Cobb, Georgia. But Benjamin is sometimes called Luke (and unless he had multiple personalities, he can't be both Benjamin and Luke on the same record, and there's no other brother named Luke). The record is well after I believe Abijah to have died. I'm not finding deeds with the names I'd expect, and there's nothing in those deeds to help terribly much. I am not skilled with land records and deeds, but I may have to spend some time on them just to disprove them. 

Could it be there simply aren't records? I tend to doubt it. Sure, the southern states do seem to be more scarce on documentation than say Ohio (who kept wonderful records) but I feel like I just haven't found the right search yet. The family was scattered across Georgia, Alabama and Tennessee during the time. Maybe I'm just being too narrowminded. And don't forget thet bible published in Louisiana and the Louisiana Confederate money I found clearing out my parents house. Maybe they're a clue? So far, I've not tied the family at all to Louisiana, though there was a big LeRoy presence there, but they primarily hailed from France where I have no known DNA ties on the maternal side. To be fair, there could be a French connection not indicated by DNA, but I can only use the known, and France isn't part of the equation at this point.

So my brick wall still stands firm. I'm constantly thinking about other approaches to break it down, but so far nothing has worked. I kick my toe painfully against this wall every couple of weeks, but it refuses to crack. I won't give up, one day I'm confident I'll find the record I need and when I do, it'll be the biggest genealogy happy dance ever!

Image by Ray Shrewsberry • from Pixabay

Baseball in the Branches: Selva Lewis "Lew" Burdette Jr.

Since opening day for the Baltimore Orioles was yesterday, I thought this would be a fitting post. Although the subject of this sketch isn't from my family, he's married into the adoptee (for a friend) tree I've been working on. So far, he's the closest to someone famous I've come across in any tree I've worked on. Selva Lewis Burdette Jr., more commonly known  as Lew Burdette, was a a right-handed Major League Baseball (MLB) pitcher, whose career spanned over 20 years, Born on November 22, 1926, in Nitro, West Virginia, Burdette's journey in baseball would lead him to become a well respected pitcher and paved the way for his grandson, Nolan Fontana, to play professionally. 

Lew briefly served in the Air Force Reserves from April-November 1945. In 1946 he attended the University of Richmond (Virginia) for a year and a half. He was already in the Major Leagues by the time he married into the family tree I'm researching on June 30, 1949 when he wed Mary Ann Shelton in Charleston, Kanawha, West Virginia, making him the husband of a 2C1R of my research subject. They were born and raised in the same county, Nitro and Charleston are only about 12 miles apart, and they met in a bowling alley. By 1950 they had left West Virginia and made their home in Florida. Together they had 4 children: 1 son and 3 daughters.

His career really began when he signed with the New York Yankees in 1947. However, it was with the Milwaukee Braves where he made his indelible mark. Traded to the Braves in 1951, Burdette quickly became a central figure in the team's pitching rotation. Perhaps the high point of Burdette's career came during the 1957 World Series, where he showcased his skills on the national stage. Burdette was instrumental in the Milwaukee Braves' victory over the New York Yankees, winning three complete games, including a shutout in Game 7. This amazing performance earned him the World Series Most Valuable Player (MVP) Award, securing his place in baseball history. He was also a two time All-Star (1957 and 1959).

Burdette was eventually traded to the St. Louis Cardinals in 1963. In 1964, he played with the Chicago Cubs and then the Phillies in 1965. He signed with the California Angels in 1966 as a relief pitcher, and finally retired in 1967. It would seem, as he came to the end of his career, the magic may have faded quickly. The average 20th century MLB career is just 5.6 years according to a 2007 study. 1in 5 players will have only a single year career. At the time Lew was playing, the average career length was estimated closer to 10 years, with "...a rarefied few enjoying 20 or more years of play..." according to the NCBI. He was an outlier by all standards with a 20 year career!

Over the course of his career, Burdette accumulated a record of 203 wins, 144 losses. At an imposing 6' 2-1/2" tall, he threw an amazing 1.074 strikeouts! There was some controversy around his pitching style though, and some debate as to whether he sometimes may have thrown "spitballs". His ability was evidenced by pitching 158 complete games and 33 shutouts Burdette was also known for his hitting abilities, a rare skill for a pitcher. With 12 home runs and 75 RBIs during his career, he was a versatile player. He was also "....a notorious prankster who did everything from slipping snakes into umpires’ pockets to intentionally posing as a lefty for his 1959 Topps baseball card" according to Alex Kupfer's article on SABR and was known for his nervous mannerisms his opponents found distracting when he was on the mound. 

After retiring, Burdette continued to influence baseball as a coach and scout, sharing his knowledge and passion for the game with the next generations. His legacy is not only found in the stats but also in the respect he earned from teammates, opponents, and fans. He was inducted into the Florida Sports Hall of Fame and was also in the Braves Hall of Fame in Atlanta. Selva Lewis Burdette Jr. passed away on February 6, 2007, in Winter Garden, Florida. His cause of death was lung cancer. His contributions to the sport remain a part of its history, he showcased the spirit and dedication defining America's pastime. 

While I'd have liked to share a photo, all the ones I've seen are still under copyright, but if you'd like to see some images of Lew Burdette click here. I've also found one lone photo of his wife Mary Ann Burdette here. And if you're a baseball fan inspired to know more about Lew's life and career, take a peek at a more detailed article on SABR, Lew Burdette by Alex Kupfer.

Though I'm not a huge sports fan, I grew up watching the Baltimore Orioles play. I was fortunate to witness the sometimes amusing theatrics of manager Earl Weaver. Finding Lew Burdette in the branches of the family tree of my friend was quite exciting! It was a privilege to research him a bit more for this post. 

Image by stanbalik from Pixabay

A Legacy of Perseverance: William Jess Oakes

Photo created with DALL-E Chat GPT
representation of cotton mill about 1900

When I'm having a bad day, sometimes it helps to stop and think about my ancestors and their struggles just to survive. Today, I was thinking specifically about William Jess Oakes, my great-granduncle. One of his census records has really stuck with me. Born approx. March 1, 1852 (there's some discrepancy on the year, but this seems to fit best with the age of his mother) in Georgia, he certainly didn't have it easy.

As the eldest of 7 children, his family probably depended on him when he was young. His father worked as a farm laborer and likely put in a lot of hours for not a lot of pay. At the time of the 1870 census, William could not read or write and was living at home. By the 1880 census, he was shown as being a servant in the household of William H Head (relationship unknown) in Trickum, Georgia - not far from where he grew up in Tunnel Hill, both in Whitfield County. Part of me wonders if this was his attempt to be independent, or if there simply wasn't enough room and/or money in the home of his parents. Either way, being a servant wasn't a luxurious life. He probably earned little more than room and board. 

In 1881, he married Elizabeth (Bettie) Bell and they started their life together. On an 1890 property tax digest, the aggregate value of all of his property was a mere $65.00. It really hits home - he had a wife and at least 6 children by this time (I don't know the dates of birth/death for 2 children who died prior to 1900). To put it in perspective, $65 in 1890 is about $2,217 today. I can't even imagine!

By 1900, he was still married, living in Trion, Chattooga, Georgia, with a growing family of his own. In the 19 years since his marriage, William and Bettie had 14 children, 12 of whom were living at the time of the census. The children ranged in age from 18 years down to 5 months old. All 14 family members lived in a rented house. By this time, William was shown as being able to read and write, although none of his children were attending school, and none of them could read or write.

It certainly makes sense why the children weren't receiving an education...they were busy working in a cotton mill! The 6 oldest children worked as spinners and oilers in the mill. William was listed as a weaver (also in the cotton mill) but was shown as being unemployed for 12 months. So, in all likelihood, it was the children supporting the family. When I first worked with this census record, I was really touched by how young the children were to be laboring in the likely awful working conditions in a mill. It was a dangerous job. Certainly, I was aware this was a relatively common practice - child labor was cheap and plentiful - but somehow it really struck home when I saw it in my own maternal line. 

I often wonder why William was unemployed. Did the factory just want to use the cheaper child labor? Did he have some kind of medical issue? Did he have trouble holding a job? Unfortunately, no records I've found give any clue to the goings on in his life at this point. But I'd imagine there was immense pressure on him with 14 mouths to feed.

1900 census

By 1910 the family had moved to Coldwater, Georgia - a considerable distance away. Here William was a farm laborer living with his wife, 8 of his children, plus 2 of his grandchildren. All but his wife and the grandchildren were working as farm laborers. In 1920, we find William and his daughter (along with her 2 children) still living on a rented farm, this time in State Line, Georgia. Interestingly, he's shown as widowed, but his wife didn't actually pass away until early 1924. We find Bettie living instead with one of her sons, 2 of her daughters and their children in Cave Springs, Georgia. She's also listed as widowed. Certainly not conclusive, but it appears their marriage may have been going through some struggles. Had she just been visiting at the time, I wouldn't have expected them both to be listed as widowed. Although William and his daughter did move at least 2 more times while residing in Rome, Georgia, he continued to live with her throughout the 1930's (working as a farmer) and into 1940.

Bettie's death certificate shows she died as a result of acute dilation of the heart and nephritis (a kidney issue) in March 1924. A copy of her funeral record shows she died in her residence, but there's no indication she was living with William at the time, even though she was listed as married. I've been unable to determine who she may have been living with, as the address on the funeral record doesn't  match anything I've found on censuses for any of her children in 1920 or 1930. But certainly it appears it was a family divided.

William passed away on July 16, 1941 after a long illness. Based on records I've found, he never owned his own home or farm. He relocated his family frequently. He probably struggled his whole life to support his family's basic needs, working well into his 70's. He persevered in the face of adversity. Thanks in part to his numerous children, his obituary showed he had 67 grandchildren, 53 great-grandchildren and 2 great-great-grandchildren surviving him. 

Despite the struggles he faced, it's quite a legacy (and a LOT of people for me to find and place in my tree). So, when I'm thinking how hard my life is - I stop and remember William Jess Oakes, his children...and the cotton mill. Comparatively, my life is a cake walk. Despite being sparse on details, William's life helps me remain thankful for all I have and how fortunate I am. 

Suicide or Murder? The Death of Michael Shelly

Some might say my father's maternal line carried with it a brief family curse. I'll start at the beginning, with Michael Shelly. Though bad luck befell more than one of his sons as well. 

Michael Shelly was born on March 7, 1811, in Cumberland, Pennsylvania. According to family history, his father, Jacob, was of German descent and possibly born in the Netherlands. The 1850 census shows Jacob's birthplace as Pennsylvania and I've not yet found records to substantiate his birth overseas. For now, we'll just go with the family history. It is known the Shelly's settled and lived on a small island in the Susquehanna River in Dauphin County, Pennsylvania - called Shelly Island. It is believed this is where Michael was born. 

His family moved to Wayne, Ohio, around 1828, where he would lay down roots and build a legacy. On February 19, 1835, Michael married Elizabeth Houser on his father's farm. Together, they prospered, purchasing and working a 160-acre farm in Plain, Wayne, Ohio. Over time, he purchased additional farms, growing his portfolio to a whopping 800 acres! Michael was a talented farmer, his land and assets reflecting his hard work. By 1860, his property alone was valued at over $29,000 (over $1 million dollars in today's money).

Michael and Elizabeth had a large family, 6 boys and 4 girls: Christian, Michael H. Jr., Jacob, Peter, Joseph C., Eliza A., Sarah, John William, Mary Ann, and Susan. Michael Sr. was a devout Lutheran and took an active interest in township affairs, aligning with the Republican party. 

Tragedy struck in his later years. Following is a melding of remembrances of Henry Shelly, the grandson of Michael and half-brother of Alva (who witnessed the events), newspaper articles published at the time and accounts written by family. This story of greed, robbery and death was well covered and much discussed. 

In 1890, banks were having a tough go of it, and people were losing their savings. Despite his niece's husband owning a bank, Michael didn't trust trust them, and kept his money in a dresser at his home. This decision would prove pivotal. On August 20, 1890, after returning from taking cattle to market, Michael was the victim of a brutal robbery in his home. He was 79 and his wife 76 years old. Their 10 year old grandson, Alva, Shelly lived with them. Shortly after midnight, masked men (some accounts say 4 others say 9) entered the house, battering the door to break in. They threatened the Shelly's with a revolver and bound both Michael and Alva. Michael refused to unlock the dresser for them, so they used chisels to open it. Ultimately, they reportedly stole over $6000 in cash (worth over $200,000 today). Then or now, it was a lot of money! Michael would never speak of the exact amount taken. Sadly, Elizabeth, already in poor health, was terribly affected by the whole event and she died just a few short months later in November 1890.

This crime set a series of events into motion culminating in a second loss of life. Michael recognized the voices of some of the men as those of his neighbors. At first, he didn't want to name them (he testified in the preliminary hearing) because he was afraid they'd retaliate and burn his buildings down. There had been other robberies in the community and since he thought he could name most of the men, he ultimately filed charges against Dan Binkley (an ex-policeman in Kansas City), Dick Lee, Dick Geiselman and others. Newspapers also listed Henry Binkley (father of Dan) and Henry Webb as suspects. Lee and Geiselman were supposedly sent to jail. The Binkley's and Webb were put on trial.

On the first day of the hearings May 12,1891, Michael was relentlessly questioned on the witness stand for over six hours. He bravely testified against his neighbors. There was damning testimony from others. Some of the money had likely been used to make mortgage payments by two of the accused in November 1890. Another person testified he sold acreage to Dan Binkley, presumably paid for with the ill gotten gains. Michael's testimony didn't end until 4:30pm on the first day of the trial.

News articles indicated he was affected by the grueling defense examination. At his age, I would expect he'd have been both physically and mentally exhausted. In the evening, he told his housekeeper he wanted breakfast the following morning before leaving for the trial. On May 13, 1891, his grandson Alva didn't see him in the house at breakfast but noticed the barn door was open. He reminded the housekeeper to make the meal and went off to find his grandfather. To his horror, he discovered the body of Michael Shelly, partially under a wagon, dead at 80 years old in his own barn with a single bullet hole in his head. A revolver lay on the ground nearby. 

The circumstances surrounding his death were murky, with widespread speculation about whether it was a result of murder or suicide. It is well documented Michael suffered immense stress after the robbery and during the trial. Reports suggested the strain may have driven him to suicide. A revolver with one empty chamber was found lying at his feet, further complicating the narrative of his death. Neighbors who arrived at the barn did not believe he could have killed himself based on the scene they viewed. The police, however, concluded it was a suicide. Unfortunately, there was no fingerprint evidence available to the police during their investigation. Fingerprinting of suspects wasn't used in the United States until 1903. The family believed Michael had gone to do the morning feeding of the livestock and was shot in the head by someone involved in, or associated with, the robbery. The Wayne County Democrat (May 27, 1891) reported the charges against all the remaining defendants were dropped.

Questions remain (at least for me). How did the gun end up at his feet when he was shot in the head? Why was he partially under the wagon? Although the day on the stand was difficult, wasn't the worst of it over? Why kill himself after he had already testified? Why ask for breakfast if he was so despondent he was considering killing himself? It is told, on the very same day his body was discovered, one of the accused Binkley's packed up his family and moved to Alberta, Canada. If true, why flee when robbery charges had been dropped? Was there fear murder charges might follow? How much was really stolen? At one time, an attorney told the family the men claimed to have stolen $35,000 ($1.1 million today). I thought such an amount would be awfully heavy, but Henry Shelly recalled, based on Alva having been a witness to the events, the robbers took a $1000 bill (yes, it was real, but they stopped printing them in 1969) and taunted Michael by waving it in his face. $35,000 wouldn't be very heavy if much of it was in $500 or $1000 dollar bills. And most of all, I wonder if the men at the center of it all felt any remorse or regret? What did they tell their families? Does someone out there know missing pieces of this story?

The funeral sermon for Michael Shelly was delivered by Rev. J.B. Bergner. I'm lucky enough to have a three page transcription of the actual sermon, including the thoughts Rev. Bergner shared as to why the death occurred. He lay the blame squarely on the robbers who set in motion a chain of events culminating in death...though he stopped short of saying it was either murder or suicide. Michael was laid to rest in the Plain Lutheran Cemetery with his headstone reflecting his life span: 80 years, 2 months, and 6 days. His life, marked by his successes as a farmer and the tragic end that befell him, has been a poignant story in the history of Wayne County.

The dresser still remains in the family. The chisel marks made by the robbers can still be seen. The family continued as well know farmers in the area, though their trajectory was undoubtedly inextricably altered. Some of his children did well, others suffered their own tragedies. In an ironic twist of fate, the barn Michael built, and died in, burned down. In 1957, the house he built on the property also burned. 

Michael Shelly picture from the Commemorative Biographical Record Wayne County, Ohio 1889
Photo of dresser publicly shared by DonnaScott79 on Ancestry.com

Frederick Douglas James Fought for Freedom

 

Frederick Douglas James was my 1st cousin 3x removed on my paternal line. He was born about 1837 in Wooster, Wayne, Ohio to James Charles James (yeah, I know, a bit of an odd naming convention there) and Amelia James. James and Amelia were cousins who came to Ohio from England, making Frederick a first generation American. Amelia arrived in 1832. I don't yet know when James arrived, but they were married in Ohio in 1835. Frederick was the eldest of 12 children (though 4 are still unidentified and presumed to have died young).

His father, James, was a painter in Wooster, Wayne, Ohio, and then a music dealer selling instruments in a variety/general store he owned in Aurora, Kane, Illinois. In the 1860 Census, Frederick's occupation was listed as "dig artist". Based on another person in my tree who had the same occupation in the same census, it appears to have pertained to those who worked in the growing field of photography. He seemed to be following in the creative footsteps of his father.

On July 25, 1861, Frederick felt the call to fight for his country and volunteered to serve in the Union Army. This was well before the draft of 1863. From all appearances, he truly felt drawn to fight for his country. He took his service seriously and served until December 30,1865, rising through the ranks. Based on his enlistment dates, he served for virtually the entire Civil War. 

When he enlisted in Company A of the Ohio 30th Infantry, he was a Private. On August 14, 1861, just a short time after joining, he was promoted to Full Sergeant. He was then promoted to Full Captain and served from September 2, 1863 to December 30,1865 in Company D of the US Colored Troops, 52nd Infantry Regiment, prior to his ultimate resignation. 

The 52nd United States Colored Troop (USCT) were enlisted black soldiers, lead by white officers, and were posted for garrison duty at Vicksburg, Mississippi until June 1865. They saw combat at Coleman's Plantation, Port Gibson on July 4, 1864. They also participated in the Skirmish at Bayou Liddell on October 15, 1864. The USCT showed just how capable they were in battle. They fought hard for freedom and citizenship. For a more detailed account of the history and contributions of the USCT, read To Die By The Flag Rather Than Disgrace It: Black Mississippians in the Union Army.

While originally researching Frederick, I was lucky enough to stumble upon a site selling an album of photos and tintypes from the 52nd US Colored Troop, including 26 portraits of the officers. The officer's names were all included, and I was amazed to find Frederick's portrait, shown above, included. (Just a reminder: While the link I've included does still work, always save an image when you come across a great find like this in your sleuthing! The internet is ever changing and there is no guarantee you'll be able to reach a specific site again in the future.) Sadly, the album does not include any photos of the troops who fought so valiantly, only the officers. 

The online images of Frederick's military service record are faded and difficult to read. There are a number of letters and handwritten documents. I did drop an image in ChatGPT to transcribe one of the documents, and while it wasn't able to transcribe it entirely, it gave me enough information to work with as I looked at the remainder of his file. He was charged with several counts of conduct unbecoming an officer toward the end of his military career and he was facing a court martial. I was unable to discern exactly what he had done, other than seemingly giving two different accounts of something. I presume it must have been an important something to have charges filed. I did notice he was also listed as absent without leave on at least one muster (something he disputed in his resignation). He was found not guilty on all but one of the charges and was reinstated under his Commanding Officer. 

Subsequently, due to his failing health (backed up by a "surgeries certificate" stating he was suffering from severe gastrointestinal issues and was not fit to return to duty) he tendered his resignation. I can't help but notice Frederick looks very gaunt in his portrait. It may well have been taken near the end of his service. He called out in his resignation he had never been absent without approval (and his records do show he was granted more than one leave of absence to return to Ohio for short periods of time). By this time, the war was over and his health was suffering. He asked for and received an honorable discharge to go home and attend to his personal business.

Upon his return home, he married in 1871, at the age of 34, but I've found no records showing he had any children. In the 1880 Census in Aurora, Kane, Illinois, he was listed as a photographer. He seemingly returned home and settled back into the creative pursuits he enjoyed before the war. Frederick Douglas James died February 10, 1882 in Aurora, Kane, Illinois from paralysis of the stomach. His obituary, dated February 12, 1882 in the Chicago Tribune read in part "...served four years in the army, and was promoted because of peculiar courage in the battle of Vicksburg." 

Frederick not only fought for, but alongside those seeking freedom. While he seemed to have had a few issues at the end of his career, it doesn't diminish his overall service to his country. A whisper from the past, his own words immortalized in his service record sum it up the best. "I left everything took arm in defense of my country to help crush the rebellion."

A Life Marked by Tragedy: Victor Michael Crow

I've intended to write about Victor Michael Crow (1918-1975) for some time. He was the husband of my 3rd cousin 1x removed. Not a close relationship, but I was touched at the multiple tragedies he suffered. I've also been meaning to test out ChatGPT since AI is here to stay and I need to learn more about it. So today, I've merged the two tasks and this is the result.

To be clear, I love to write! I have absolutely no intention of letting AI write "for me"...but I might let it "help" me from time to time. For this post I asked ChatGPT if it could write a bio from the facts I supplied. I simply copied/pasted the facts from the person profile in my Ancestry tree. I was surprised at how well it did, but I wasn't totally happy with the first run through, so I asked ChatGPT to try again. There were parts of each result I liked, so I've merged them and made a few tweaks (including adding details from newspaper articles not included in the facts I provided and correcting a few dates where AI didn't have enough information to correct a newspaper date to the actual date incidents happened). Overall, I was really happy with how well it did! While AI can't replicate my sometimes dry and hopefully witty humor, for a piece like this, it was helpful. Without further ado...

Victor Michael Crow was born on August 30, 1918, in Lostine, Wallowa, Oregon. He was the son of Michael and Jennie Crow and entered into this world on a bright morning at 9:45 am. At the age of 23, he explored his talents as an actor. Following this, he pursued a college education, completing four years before January 30, 1942, showcasing his commitment to knowledge and personal growth. The winds of World War II swept him into the military, where he served in the Army Air Corps from January 30, 1942, to December 21, 1945. Starting as a Private, he rose to the rank of Sergeant, displaying dedication and valor.

Residing in Wallowa, Oregon, Victor's life took an unexpected turn on November 18, 1955. Tragedy struck Victor's family when his first wife, Mary Lou Greenwood, and daughter, Jeni Le Crow, passed away due to accidental exposure to freezing temperatures. This incident surely left an indescribable void in Victor's heart. Sadly, his young son found the bodies of his mother and sister. While the cause of death is not known for sure, the coroner believed Mary Lou may have broken her back or neck while climbing a haystack to get feed for livestock. He theorized Jeni Le may have followed her mother out to the barnyard and ended up in the freezing cold alone. As his mother had told him she would be out for the afternoon, 11 year old Philip was not worried when he arrived home from school and no one was home. He ended up going to bed. When he woke the next morning and there was still no one around, he went out to look for them and found the bodies. With his father away for work, he drove a tractor 2 miles to town to report the incident. I can't begin to imagine how their deaths affected both Victor and Philip. 

In the midst of life's challenges, Victor found love again. On June 12, 1959, at the age of 40, he married Elda Mae Childers in Boise, Ada, Idaho. Their union took place at Orchard Avenue Baptist Church, and was witnessed by Ethel T Crow (possibly his sister-in-law, but I'm not 100% sure) and L Warner Crow (Victor's brother). The couple made their residence in Joseph, Wallowa, Oregon, building a life together. However, fate dealt another cruel hand and heartbreaking loss. On February 3, 1961, less than two years after their marriage, tragedy struck again as Elda Mae Childers lost her life in a terrible car accident. Their car crashed into a pickup truck stopped on the side of the highway. The impact threw the truck across a bridge abutment and the Crow's car spun out of control, throwing Victor from the vehicle into the middle of the road. There was a small fire in the front of the car, but the fire department was able to extinguish it. Elda Mae died instantly of head injuries. They had been on the way to a basketball game where one of her brothers was a referee and Victor's two children were already in attendance at the game.

Undeterred, Victor continued his journey and, on April 11, 1971, at the age of 52 in Lostine, Wallowa, Oregon, he entered into a third marriage. Victor joined his life with my relative, Ariss Jeanette Jones. The officiant for the ceremony was William B Watson, a clergyman. In the following years, Victor was actively involved in ranching, and he and Ariss made their residence in Enterprise, Wallowa, Oregon. Victor continued his ranching occupation until his passing. He filled his time as a member of Standley Masonic Lodge 113 AF & AM of Wallowa, Baker Consistory of the Scottish Rite, BPOE 1829 of Enterprise, Hurricane Creek Grange, Oregon State Grange, and American Legion Post 18 of Enterprise. All of these reflected his active involvement in the community. 

Before his death, he was also affiliated with the Joseph United Methodist Church. Victor Michael Crow's journey came to an end on October 29, 1975, just four and a half years after marrying Ariss. His funeral, held at Joseph Methodist Church, witnessed officiants R. E. Hefty and Rev. Wm B Watson, with Masonic Committal services by Standley Lodge #113 AF & AM. Victor found his resting place in Lostine Cemetery, leaving behind a legacy resonating with those who knew him.

His story lives on, documented through various sources, including newspapers, certificates, and media archives. Victor's life, marked by triumphs and tribulations, remains a testament to resilience, love, and the enduring spirit of those who face life's challenges head-on.

Image by Moshe Harosh from Pixabay

Mary Delongoroska and the Silent Train

Mary or Marianna (Delongoroska) Sinaka, 2nd great grandmother of my ex-husband, was born in Prussia (sometimes shown as Poland, other times as Germany) about 1832. She married Joseph Sinaka (presumably in Poland, since their child Walter is shown as being born there around 1870). 

It's unclear exactly when Mary and her family emigrated to the United States, but by the fateful day of 25th of August 1892, she was living in Browntown in Wilmington, New Castle, Delaware. While I know nothing about their circumstances here in the United States, I would assume they were not very well off, because on this day Mary and her 5 year old grand-daughter were near a bridge picking up coal by the side of the railroad track, ostensibly to be used for heating their home.

Mary was 60 years old and deaf. I'm sure she was used to the train coming by each day, and knew when to expect it. But on this day, depending on the newspaper account you believe, the express train to Washington was running anywhere from 15-30 minutes late and was coming around the curve at a decent clip. Her grand-daughter heard the train coming and tried to grab her hand an get her off the track. I'm surprised Mary couldn't feel the rumble of the train approaching, but maybe she thought she had enough time. We'll never know what might have been running through her mind. In any case, Mary didn't understand the danger the child was trying to warn her of and didn't cooperate. The train was a silent giant bearing down on them. Ultimately, the child had to let go of Mary and had the wherewithal to save herself.

The Evening Journal, Wilmington DE
25 Aug 1892 Page 1

Mary was killed instantly by train number 51, engine number 75 of the the Philadelphia, Wilmington and Baltimore Railroad (P.W.&B.) It's gut wrenching to see the descriptions of what happened to her. "Her legs were crushed" and she was "considerably mangled". Then, almost like trash on the side of the road, The Evening Journal said her "remains were gathered up and brought to the hospital room" at the railroad. Later the coroner had them taken to the morgue.

The Morning News, Wilmington DE
26 Aug 1892 Page 1

The coroner held an inquest. The jury determined it was an accidental death and I'm quite sure it was. They didn't need an inquest to figure this out. Mary didn't intend to get run over in front of her 5 year old grand-daughter, and the conductor certainly didn't set out to intentionally hit her. Mary was blamed for her carelessness and for trespassing on the railroad's property. While I certainly understand the blame ultimately fell to her for being on the track, it's heart breaking to think she died while trying to scrounge some coal, most likely to keep the family warm. And with no liability falling to the railroad, thanks to the inquest, her family was left to deal with the aftermath on their own. 

Her husband Joseph must have been devastated. They came here for a new life, a better life, but Mary lost her life. He eventually passed away in 1912. I've been unable to determine which child was with Mary. Walter didn't have any children born at the right time to have been 5 years old (unless it was one of his 3 children who passed away before the 1900 census...the first census I've been able to find him in). More likely, he had siblings who also came to America and it may have been one of their children. Regardless, the trauma suffered by the poor innocent girl must have been unimaginable. She tried (and failed) to save her grandmother and barely escaped being hit herself. I can't even conceive what must have been going through her mind as she stood alone, scared and traumatized on the side of the track with the remains of her grandmother in front of her. I can only hope her family told her over and over it was not her fault. While I hope she was able to move past it, I suspect the images probably haunted her the rest of her life. I'm not sure that's something anyone could get over. The train conductor must have been impacted as well. I'm sure at the time, people being hit by trains was not uncommon, but I would imagine it was still very difficult knowing what happened, even if it wasn't his fault.

Below is the best and most thorough account of the accident I've found. There were numerous articles written, but most were short on anything but the grizzly details.

Delaware Gazette and State Journal
01 Sep 1892

I still have much research to do on this branch of our family and I hope I'll find more on Mary. I follow the blog A Family Tapestry, written by Jacqi Stevens, and I know from her experiences, Polish family history can be very challenging to research. I'm not sure how much I'll learn, or when, but it seemed fitting tonight to honor Mary...an immigrant who came here for a better life...and ended up losing her life instead.

Note: Newspapers from 1892 are in the public domain and are no longer under copyright. For more information on copyrights read this wonderful post by The Legal Genealogist

Image by Steve Brandon from Pixabay

William "Willie" Loyd Banker the Eyes of a Child

William “Willie” Loyd Banker was born January 28,1898 in Troy, Clarke, Iowa to Riley Sherman Banker (aged 31) and Martha “Mattie” Lillian (Denly) Banker (aged 23). He had one sibling, Vera, two years older than him. Their mother tragically died on May 11, 1898, just a few short months after William’s birth. From her obituary, Martha suffered from, and presumably died as a result of, paralyzed muscles and nerves, from an unnamed affliction. With the knowledge we have now about such diseases, I can surmise it was an auto-immune disease, but so far I’ve not uncovered any records to support the actual diagnosis.

In the 1900 census, William and Vera are shown living with their father in the home of his paternal uncle and aunt (Robert & Viola Banker) in Troy, Clarke, Iowa. By the 1910 census, his father was no longer living with them (though he didn't pass away until early 1917). From one of William's obituaries, he was reared by his uncle and aunt, They had no children of their own I’ve been able to locate. I’m sure Vera and William brought joy to their home, but I wonder if they ever truly felt they belonged. William attended school in Clarke, Iowa and completed his high school studies (per the 1940 census). 

The only photo (shown above) I’ve uncovered of Vera and William really struck me because both children look so serious. There's a profound sadness in their eyes as well as their expressions. I know it was common for people not to smile in photographs at the time, but there’s an intensity in their small faces indicative of the difficulties they’d survived. I imagine it can’t have been easy losing their mother, nor adapting to life in someone else’s home. They suffered another tragedy when their father left. There’s no indication their father remarried or had any other children. One of William’s obituaries stated he lost his parents when he was young (not entirely true of his father) giving us an indication their father was not involved in their lives. For all intents and purposes, they lost both their parents as young children. Hopefully, his uncle and aunt made both children feel loved, but I can only imagine there was still a gaping hole in their hearts and likely questions never answered.

William married Blanche Pauline DeLong on June 1, 1916 in Leon, Decatur, Iowa. They had four children between 1916-1921: Mary Louise, Martha, Harold and Roy. William was a farmer, working for himself. He was a hard worker as evidenced in the 1940 census, where he reported working 72 hours per week, 52 weeks of the year. The family lived in Murray, Clarke, Iowa as well as Troy, Clarke, Iowa and Osceola, Clark, Iowa. Despite moving around, he was always a self-employed farmer and owned several of the properties the family lived on. He registered in both the draft for WWI and WWII, but being a farmer, his talents were likely better served at home and he never had to enlist in the military.

In mid-1938, his uncle named him as the executor in his will. As a further testament to William being raised as his own child, he also left his property to William (and his heirs) once his wife Viola had passed. Though the loss of his parents at such a young age was tragic, it appears he was adored by his uncle and aunt, and they seemed intent on ensuring the family had a place to call home.

Another life tragedy struck when his wife Blanche died at the age of only 38, after an illness, on February 5, 1938. Unlike his father, William did not leave his children. A newspaper article from November 1938, in the Osceola Sentinel, shows he attended a wedding. One of the others in attendance was Doris M (Scott) Mortizky. We’ll never know if this was a chance meeting sparking a new interest, but on December 12, 1939 they were married. They remained married until William passed away. By all accounts, it sounds like they had a happy life. 

On 26 Dec 1940, another article in the Osceola Sentinel talks of a wonderful family gathering for Christmas dinner, including the father of his deceased wife, as well as many of his children and even one grandchild. Years later, due to a heart condition, William was forced to retire from farming. He and Doris then moved to Marionville, Lawrence, Missouri in 1959, where he spent the rest of his life.

Sadly, William had a heart attack while sitting in his car at the Erb’s Market (grocery store) on June 13, 1962. He was just 64 years old. His body was returned to Osceola, Clarke, Iowa (where his daughters lived) and he was buried next to his first wife Blanche. He had 10 grandchildren and 4 great grandchildren per his obituaries.

While his life was more tragic than exciting, the sheer number of obituaries and newspaper articles he was mentioned in pay tribute to the many people who cared about him. I found 4 separate obituaries, each containing a few more facts than the others. Another 6 newspaper articles over the years mentioned him. And while it’s certainly not a record, I have 29 hints saved for him in my Ancestry tree. He was my 2nd cousin 2x removed on my paternal side. His little serious face in the photo made me want to bring him back to life. If you'd like to read any of the articles, feel free to check out William's profile on my public Ancestry tree.

A Life Well Lived - Francis John James Sr

Yesterday was the anniversary of my father's passing. I miss him so very much. He was my rock. As the youngest daughter, I was always daddy's little girl. I was born when he was 42 years old and my siblings were grown and off to their own lives, so I had a special relationship with my dad. Today, I thought I'd honor him with a post about his life.

Francis "Frank" John James Sr. was born 04 Oct 1926, in Wooster, Wayne, Ohio to Virgil Ray James and Jessie Virginia (Shelly) James. He was the third child of 8 (though the first child was stillborn, so he was always considered the 2nd child). His entire childhood and young adult life was spent on the family farms. 

Times were tight in the depression, and for years, every morning he'd get up before dawn and run through the woods checking his trap lines. Most of the time, his catches were put on the table for the family dinner (including squirrel, rabbit and possum (though he said he didn't actually eat the possum - but my grandma cooked it up and served it!) He helped with the animals, worked in the fields, chopped trees down and into fire wood (he said he enjoyed it) and in his spare time searched the freshly plowed fields for arrowheads. 

His father wanted him to do what those who came before him had done, be a farmer. He knew he wouldn't be happy and wanted to leave the farm and small town Ohio to join the US Navy during WWII. Since his parents wouldn't give their permission, he made a plan. He finished his senior year of high school in under 2 months, and on his 18th birthday, he left a note on the kitchen table telling them he'd left to go sign up. Upon arriving, the recruiter told him he'd have to be drafted. Undeterred, he went down to the draft board and asked them to draft him in (they did), for the duration of the war. He joined not because he had to, but because he believed it was the right thing to do. 

During basic training, he said you could always tell the boys who came from the farms. They were the ones who could complete the physical training courses with ease because they were used to doing much harder work on the farm. He was a "radio man". It really had nothing to do with the radio, though he did learn and enjoyed morse code. His main "job" was riding in dive bombers, keeping his pilot on task, making sure they stayed at safe altitude and watching for anything the pilot might need to be alerted to. He always said the most important thing was trusting your pilot. The dive bombers had canopies, but he said they usually flew with them open because they were prone to getting stuck and they wanted to be able to eject if the need arose (thankfully it didn't).

Though he was never deployed to battle (he remained stateside, stationed in Florida) he had many fun stories and memories he recounted often to anyone who was interested. He always started with "Did I ever tell you about....?" From the time they snuck a goat onto the 2nd floor of their barracks (much to the chagrin and annoyance of their commanding officer), to the time he split his uniform pants clean open doing "crack the whip" in a roller skating rink, and the time he had to repeatedly tell his pilot to "pull up...pull up!!!" because he was so focused on task, or the time he broke into another base to visit his cousin (Harold Shelly) stationed nearby (sneaking in by falling in line and marching into the mess hall, enjoying a nice dinner, and marching right back out without getting caught) - it was clear his time in the service was a very special and memorable part of his life. He said they all knew they were in for the duration, and there was a real chance they might not make it out alive, so they enjoyed a little harmless fun when they could.

One of his adventures I was always interested to hear about was his involvement with Flight 19, the planes lost in the Bermuda Triangle. He needed some flight hours, so he volunteered to ride along on some of the search flights. He was always interested in what happened, and had his own thoughts about the fate of the planes. Right up until he passed away, he'd read any new book published on the mysterious disappearance.

He never thought of his service as being anything special, and he was very modest about it. It turned out to be a springboard to a fascinating life of travel and adventure. He said joining up was the best decision he could have made for his life. 

During his time in the service, he met my mother in Jacksonville, Florida where he was stationed. They were married in 1947 and were together for 68 years! During the last years of my mom's life, he went to visit her every single day in the nursing home. He never missed a day, not even when he was tired or the weather was bad. They truly were amazing role models in my life.

After the Navy, he enrolled in what was then Tri-State University in Angola, Indiana (now called Trine University). He studied electrical engineering. He worked several jobs, including being a milkman and a radio/TV repair man to put himself through school and support the growing family (by then they already had 2 children). After college he joined Westinghouse as an engineer and had a 40 year career with the defense contractor. 

His job afforded him the opportunity to travel the world. I'm fortunate to have several of his old passports with stamps from around the globe. He'd regale us with stories from his travels. It was nothing for him to be in a foreign country and need to figure out how to get back home. Once, in Vietnam (where he arrived on an aircraft carrier but didn't have official stamps to be in country) he went to the consulate and ended up on an Air America flight with the CIA. I wish I'd recorded some of his stories. I recall bits and pieces of many of them, but not in enough detail to share with the humor he interjected. He always had a smile on his face when he spoke of his travels.

He retired from Westinghouse but continued to serve his community. He worked with Volunteers for Medical Engineering (VME) for many years. He designed and built items for people with disabilities when either the item they needed wasn't available or was too expensive for them. Once he revamped one of those child size battery powered cars to be remote controlled so a child who was born with no arms could experience "driving" the car (while his teacher was guiding it remotely). He was a devout Christian and was involved in his church right up until his death. 

He very much enjoyed woodworking and I'm so thankful I have many examples of his creations in my home. He also enjoyed being out in nature. Some of my fondest memories are of hiking and fishing with my dad. When I was a teenager, we took 3 driving trips cross country (just me and him in a 2 door Honda Civic hatchback with no air conditioning). I'm so lucky he gave me the opportunity to see so much of the country. Even now, people will ask me why I don't travel more or go places....and the answer is simple. My father already took me to all the places I could ever want to see! He was a loving grandfather to my son, and gave him many of he same experiences he shared with me.

My father lived to be 96 years old. He was still living independently and driving himself around two-weeks before his passing. For the last year of his life, he battled 3 kinds of cancer (one was extremely rare and there was really no viable treatment). But he never complained and he never wanted to burden anyone. I can truly say, being his caregiver in his last years was something I'm thankful for. I was able to spend time with him, talk with him, and make sure he knew just how important he was in my life. He remained at home right up until the day he passed. They took him to hospice mid-day and he was gone by the evening. He died on 07 Nov 2022 in Towson, Baltimore, Maryland.

For his funeral, I wrote the following: 

My dad was a wonderful and dedicated father, grandfather, husband, brother, uncle and friend - who selflessly put others ahead of himself. He volunteered to serve in WWII because it was quite simply, what he felt was the right thing to do. That one choice was the catalyst to a life full of travel and adventure most people can only dream of. He was a genuinely kind and caring person with a witty sense of humor, always ready to captivate with stories of his life. The impact he made on those he cared for was immense. His life, and inspiration to those who were fortunate enough to know him. He will never be forgotten and will live on in the hears of all he touched.

Even with all these words, I haven't begun to scratch the surface of what an amazing man my father was. I can't remember enough to share all his stories, and if I could, they'd fill books not blog posts. In his life he saw and experienced so much. He lived his life to the fullest and it was definitely a life well lived. I will miss him forever, but he lives on through the values he instilled in his family and the memories of everyone who met him.

A Cautionary Tale the Life and Death of Becky Lynn Shearer

 

Becky Lynn Shearer was born August 2, 1955 in Wooster, Ohio to Harold Duane Shearer and Jessie Virginia James. She was the youngest of four children. She was my cousin, By all accounts, she was a vivacious youngster. 

Born during the height of the polio epidemic in the United States, Becky was fortunate to have access to the polio vaccine, first approved in the US April 12, 1955. Polio was (and is) a highly infectious disease. affecting primarily children. It was once the most feared disease in the world. It attacks the nervous system and can lead to paralysis or even death. The vaccine consists of 4 shots given at various intervals between the ages of 2-4 months and 4-6 years old. It was highly effective even back then. Cases dropped significantly between 1955 and 1958. There was absolute scientific proof the vaccine worked.

Becky had her first 2 shots in 1957. My understanding from family stories is she had a slight reaction to the shots. Her family was planning a vacation and rather than have her feeling under the weather, they decided to postpone getting her next shot. While on vacation, she went swimming in a pond contaminated with the polio virus. The cause of her illness wasn't immediately identified as polio, and by the time it was suspected, she died just one day after being admitted to the hospital, on August 8, 1959 - just 6 days after her 4th birthday, as reported in the Akron Beacon Journal on August15, 1959*. Her autopsy confirmed she died of polio as published in the Cleveland Plain Dealer on August 14, 1959*. 

As a result of hearing this story many times as I was growing up, I've always been deathly afraid of "swimming in water where I can't see what's swimming with me." While most people enjoy a day at the beach, frolicking in the water, it's the stuff my nightmares are made of. While I never knew my cousin, her memory has remained very much alive in our family through the telling of her story.

For those who don't believe in vaccinating their children, let Becky's life - and death - be a cautionary tale. Her death was quite likely preventable. Yes, she might have had another reaction to the next shot in the series, but wouldn't a little discomfort have been worth her young life? I realize Becky's story is unlikely to sway any hardcore anti-vaxxer. But if just one person hears her story and has a change of heart, then it was a story worth sharing.

Image by Goran Horvat from Pixabay
* Links to articles may require a subscription to Newspapers.com or Genealogybank.com

Susanna Homsher the Sounds of Civil War

Susanna Homsher, my paternal second great-grandmother, was born September 1, 1839 to David Homsher and Susan Homsher (née Huber) in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. She was one of 9 children. Her parents are shown in Mennonite church records, and it's likely she was raised in the Mennonite faith. On September 23, 1858 she married Tobias David Swinehart in New Providence, Lancaster, Pennsylvania. David was a laborer and huckster (person who sells small items). Together, they had 10 children, 5 girls and 5 boys. Daughters: Ella, Adda, Anna, Emily Elnora, Mabel Ellen and sons: Harry, Galen, Abraham, Ira, Wilbur. Census records show in 1870 she and David were still living in Lancaster, Pennsylvania but by 1880 they had moved to Wayne, Ohio where David was a farmer. Census records also show she was able to read and write. She died on July 25, 1938 in Moreland, Wayne, Ohio at the ripe old age of 98. Susanna is buried in the Moreland Cemetery in Franklin Township, Wayne, Ohio.

Following are memories of Susanna Homsher, as relayed to me by my father. Although she was in her 80's and 90's when he knew her, and she passed away when he was about 13, he still had pleasant memories of his great-grandmother. She lived with her daughter Emily Swinehart (James), my father's grandmother, for several years. My father spent many summers living with his grandparents, so he knew Susanna well.

She told stories about how she could hear the guns and cannons at the Battle of Gettysburg, during the Civil War. At the time, she would have been in her early 20's and married for just a few short years. Based on census records of 1860-1870, it's highly unlikely what she heard was Gettysburg. Records show she was born and lived in Lancaster County (about 60 miles from Gettysburg). Experts say the noise from cannons, while loud, dissipates very quickly in the atmosphere. It would be unusual for it to carry any great distance, even during such an epic battle. Lancaster County does have a rich Civil War history though, and it is quite likely she heard the sounds of war. She may well have believed it was Gettysburg, or perhaps she was living in or visiting an area closer to the fighting and no documentation was created or remains...or maybe like many other family stories handed down through the ages, she just wanted to be a part of history. Whatever the truth may be, her story (true or not) is still a part of my family history.

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My father recalled Susanna enjoyed doing needle work, such as embroidery or cross-stitch. She may have been color blind, or her eyesight was simply failing as she aged, but she'd mix up the colors while working and the results were often very interesting and amusing to see. She was also hard of hearing in her later years and used a "hearing horn", more commonly known as an "ear trumpet". She most likely suffered from dementia and would regularly hide her false teeth in her shoes at night! 

I am fortunate to have had the opportunity to hear about Susanna from someone who actually knew her and could share her later life eccentricities. I'm glad her oddities won't be completely lost to time. And maybe it's just me...and this isn't the most flattering thing I could say...but doesn't she look a little like an old Harry Potter? That's right...scroll up and look at that photo again. Do you see it?

dababyskaggs89 originally shared the image of Susanna Homsher on Ancestry.com on 31 May 2015.
Ear horn image by Frederick Dekkers - mechanical reproduction of 2D image, Public Domain