Wood and McClure Ancestors with Strong Church Ties

In my husband's family tree are a number of ancestors who made big life changes for their faith...were very involved with their churches, some as cofounders or leaders, some who married church leaders, some whose children led or founded congregations. Here are a few of these ancestors:

• Hubby's Mayflower ancestors (Isaac Allerton, Mary Norris Allerton, Mary Allerton, Degory Priest, and Francis Cooke) came to America as Separatists, to worship as they chose. These ancestors are in my husband's Wood family line.

• Hubby's great uncle and great aunt, Marion Elton Wood (1867-1947) and Minnie Miller (1869-1918) helped organize and were the hosts of the very first day of worship for the Bethany English Evangelical Lutheran Church in 1917 in Toledo, Ohio. 

• Hubby's great-grand aunt Mary Ann McClure (1836-1901) married Reverend John J. Cook (1835-1916), a long-time Presbyterian Minister in Indiana and Michigan. Mary Ann's father Benjamin McClure (1812-1896) was a staunch Presbyterian in Wabash, Indiana, and a ruling church elder for 40 years.

• Joseph Charles Rinehart (1872-1932) was a pastor of several United Brethren Church congregations in Ohio, and the founder of the Belle Grove Christian Church in Ohio. His sons, H. Stanley Rinehart and Fred A. Rinehart, both became church leaders. Joseph was hubby's 1c2r.

My bite-sized bios for these ancestors, still in progress, will reflect their religious involvement so future generations know of the strength of their beliefs. "Worship" is the #52Ancestors genealogy prompt for week 14 from Amy Johnson Crow.

Me: 4 Immigrant Grands - Hubby: 1 Immigrant Grand

All four of my grandparents were immigrants from Eastern Europe:

• Hermina Farkas - b. Berehove, Hungary - arrived with siblings at Ellis Island, as a teenager, joining her parents who had arrived earlier
• Theodore Schwartz - b. Ungvar, Hungary - arrived at Ellis Island alone, as a teenager
• Henrietta Mahler - b. Riga, Latvia - arrived at Castle Garden with family, as a teenager
• Isaac Burk - b. Gargzdai, Lithuania - sailed alone to Canada, later crossed to NY state, in his early 20s

Only one of hubby's grandparents was an immigrant:

• Mary Slatter - b. Whitechapel, London, England - sailed to Canada alone before crossing into the US, in her mid-20s

Currently, I'm preparing a family history photo book about Mary Slatter and her husband, James Edgar Wood, my hubby's paternal grandparents. Their family backgrounds could not have been more different. Where James's Wood family in America descended from Mayflower passengers and seagoing British ancestors, Mary's Slatter family in England barely survived grinding poverty--and her mother died in a notorious insane asylum. My book will reflect the ups and downs of their lives, the happy times as well as the periods of despair.

It's a privilege to chronicle the perseverance and spirit of these immigrant ancestors, who left their home lands to start a new life in a new country. Without them, and those who came before, we wouldn't be here today.

"Immigration" is the genealogy prompt for week 7 of Amy Johnson Crow's #52Ancestors challenge.

Great Aunt Jennie, Gentle Influencer

I absolutely love the in-laws on both sides of my family tree. Today I want to focus on the loving, generous woman who married into my grandmother's Farkas family and became a gentle influencer through the decades.

Jennie [sometimes Jenny] Katz (1886-1974) was born on this day 138 years ago in Malomfalva, Romania. She came to New York in her 20s, and met my great uncle Alexander Farkas (1885-1948) through their involvement in the Kossuth Ferencz Hungarian Literary Sick and Benevolent Society. Alex was one of the founders of this nonprofit group that provided medical assistance, literacy assistance, and burial assistance to Hungarian immigrants in the Big Apple. 

Jennie and Alex married on Christmas Eve in 1916, both 30 years old, with family from both sides attending the wedding. He was in the garment business, she was a talented dressmaker able to copy any style after seeing it in a magazine, no pattern needed. Although the couple had no children together, they were very devoted to family. In fact, it was gentle Jennie who made the suggestion that was a game-changer for her husband's entire family.

It was Jennie's idea to start a family circle that would meet regularly, not just on holidays but all year round. The "charter members" were her husband Alex and his 10 siblings, with their spouses (if any). This family circle evolved into the Farkas Family Tree, a major focal point of social activities starting in 1933 and stretching for the next three decades. The children of charter members became full-fledged members of the tree at the age of 16, even grandchildren ultimately became members, and all enjoyed the camaraderie and food at meetings, year after year, thanks to Jennie's suggestion. 

In 1959, when one of Jennie's nephews was the family tree's historian, he wrote this moving tribute to her:

I would like to dedicate this, my first Farkas Family Tree report, to one of our most ardent members. In her own quiet way, she was probably more responsible than any other in the birth of the Farkas Family Tree. Since the inception of the Tree, I would venture to say that she has been about the most ardent supporter of our organization, and just about the most regular attender of meetings. With great respect and much love, I dedicate this report to Jenny Farkas--AUNT JENNY.

At top is a photo of one pillar at the entrance to the Kossuth Association's burial plot at Mt. Hebron Cemetery in New York, showing Jennie's name. She had been instrumental in making sure immigrants served by the Kossuth Association had affordable burial arrangements, and in planning the entrance gates to the plot. Jennie, her husband Alex, and many in the Farkas Family Tree were buried in this plot.

On this anniversary of Jennie's birth, I want to honor her gentle, loving influence on my Farkas ancestors and keep her memory alive for the future. 

"Influencer" is this week's #52Ancestors genealogy prompt from Amy Johnson Crow.

Dr. Martin Luther King at Columbia University, 1961

My hubby was the editor of the Columbia Owl campus newspaper while an undergraduate student at the School of General Studies of Columbia University in Manhattan. 

In 1961, the Owl invited Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. to speak on the topic of voter registration and civil rights. Several hundred students from area colleges filled the theater to hear Dr. King. The event raised thousands of dollars for the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, an organization devoted to advocating for civil rights. 

Above, my hubby (in dark beard and dark tie) standing next to Dr. King before his inspiring talk. This is one of our family's favorite photos, capturing a special memory as the country celebrates Dr. Martin Luther King Day.

"Favorite photo" is Amy Johnson Crow's #52Ancestors prompt for this week. 

Two Birth Years in Family Lore for Minnie

 

What if family lore indicates two different dates for an ancestor's birth year? These two notes were handwritten by hubby's grandfather, Brice Larimer McClure. One of his sisters-in-law was Minnie Estella Steiner Halbedel, who died on this day in 1947, as shown in the note above (see blue line). Brice recorded Minnie's birth year as 1867 in that note.

Here's a second note, written at a different time by this same man, with Minnie's birth year recorded as 1868. 

So which year is correct? 

AI Record Finder says birth was in 1868

I asked MyHeritage's new AI Record Finder to locate church records for Minnie, providing her full name and birth place to get the process started. In response, I received several family tree records (from MyHeritage and FamilySearch), but no church records. 

Then I asked: "Show me birth info to prove Minnie's birth in 1868." The AI's response: "The records confirm that Minnie Estella Halbedel (née Steiner) was born on May 1, 1868, in Ohio. Her parents are listed as Edward George Steiner and Elizabeth Jane Steiner (born Rinehart). These details substantiate her birth date and place for your genealogical inquiry." 

Well, no. All that was shown were family trees asserting Minnie's birth year was 1868. No proof as such. Since no official birth records are available for the time and place of Minnie's birth, and church records from that time/place are scarce, how could I resolve the conflicting dates in family lore?

My research: census records, obit, death cert, gravestone

I looked at what Census data, obits, and the death cert said about Minnie's age at different points in her life, and also looked at her gravestone. I found out:

  1870 US Census - Minnie was 3 years old (implied birth year 1867)

  1880 US Census - Minnie was 13 years old (1867)

  1910 US Census - Minnie was 42 years old (Census was taken weeks before Minnie's May birthday) (1867)

  1920 US Census - Minnie was 52 years old (Census was taken weeks before Minnie's May birthday) (1867)

   1930 US Census - Minnie was 63 (Census was taken weeks before Minnie's May birthday) (1866)

   1940 US Census - Minnie was 73 (Census was taken weeks before Minnie's May birthday) (1866)

    Obituaries: Two obits noted Minnie's age as 79 when she passed away (implied birth year 1868)

    Death cert: Informant was Minnie's youngest sister, Floyda, who gave the birthday as May 1, 1868. The cert showed Minnie's age at death as 78 years, 8 months, 2 days (calculation agrees with birth year of 1868).

    Gravestone: Birth year is shown as 1867. Not the same as the death cert!

1867 or 1868?

Ordinarily, I would put more weight on what a sibling says on a death cert than on what a Census says. The informant, a sister, should know her sister's birth year. She said on the cert that it was 1868. Yet the gravestone shows the birth year as 1867, so one of the sisters or more of them believed that was the correct year.

Contemporaneous Census records of 1870-1920 point to a birth year of 1867. I put considerable weight on earlier records like these since parents are likely to know when their children were born and what their ages are.

A bit murkier: IMHO both the 1930 and 1940 US Census enumeration answers were probably meant to suggest a birth year of 1867, with the assumption that Minnie's age was "approximately 63" in 1930 and "approximately 73" in 1940. In other words, even though Minnie's birthday was a few weeks later than the date of the Census, her age was recorded as though she had already celebrated her birthday. That's what I think, anyway.

My conclusion: Minnie was almost certainly born in 1867. The detailed note about family lore most likely had the correct birth year, 1867; the briefer note about sibling birth years was most likely incorrect in asserting 1868.

Given the scant info available to MyHeritage's AI Record Finder, I understand why it told me the birth year was 1868. Yet the AI seemed so certain! Not me. I thought it was worth digging deeper. Then again, these are my husband's ancestors.

"Family lore" is the first #52Ancestors genealogy challenge of 2024 from Amy Johnson Crow. 

Keeping Our Own Memories Alive for Today and Tomorrow

The final genealogy prompt in Amy Johnson Crow's #52Ancestors challenge for 2023 is "me, myself, and I."

Since 2007, I've created photo books featuring photos from my hubby's and my activities and adventures, big vacations, and family reunions. Above, a small sample of these books. Inside, the photos are arranged chronologically from January to December, and captions explain what's happening in each photo. Every so often, I pull a book off the shelf, leaf through, and relive those memories, happy that the photos are conveniently available.

At least once in each book, I caption a group photo with full names. Why? Although we all know who everyone is today, future generations may not recognize some people. How I wish I had inherited more photos with full names and dates! I'm learning from that experience by captioning as completely as I can.

Books or albums are a great way to get family photos off our phones and into print so others can see them too, IMHO. 

In the far future when my hubby and I join our ancestors, we hope these photo books will be enjoyed by those who come after us. Meanwhile, I'm currently working on the 2023 retrospective photo book of our "adventures."

Thank you to Amy Johnson Crow for the gift of #52Ancestor genealogy prompts throughout 2023, and now a new set of prompts for 2024.

Keep Those Cousin Connections Alive!

 

As 2023 winds down, I've been updating my cousin connections. I don't want to lose track of these relatives in the coming years! How I wish I had inherited something like this. My Mom's handwritten 1960ish address book was as close as I got to such a listing, except she didn't explain any relationships.

I maintain a digital document so I can sort alphabetically if I'm looking for a particular set of cousins or if I want to search the entire document for specific words/dates. My notes column lists the exact relationship and any other pertinent details. Don't forget maiden names, nicknames.

My Sis now has a copy of the updated version so she's aware of our cousin connections on both sides of the family tree. We've met many of these cousins in person, but others we've only "met" via email or phone. 

As a new year's resolution, please do yourself and your family a favor and create or update a listing of cousin connections. To make it easy, go ahead and borrow or adapt my format, which is also in my popular genealogy book, Planning a Future for Your Family's Past.

"Cousins" is Amy Johnson Crow's genealogy prompt for week 51 of her #52Ancestors challenge for 2023. 

The WWII Veteran Who Enlisted at Age 45

Looking at my hubby's family tree, I noticed something unusual about one World War II enlistment: my husband's 2c1r, Fred A. Rinehart (1897-1986), enlisted in October of 1942 and wasn't discharged until mid-1946 (see image at right).

This is the first time that I've researched anyone in the 20th century who joined the US Army at age 45, and served until he was nearly 49 years old.

Digging deeper, I located Fred's obit in the Sacramento Bee in January, 1986. Mystery solved.

Fred was a US Army Chaplain during World War II. He was the son of a minister but didn't become a minister himself until after he was married. (His brother Hugh S. Rinehart also became a minister, by the way.)

From painter to minister

Fred's WWI draft registration card shows him working for a body company in Cleveland, Ohio, supporting his parents. In the 1920 US Census, his occupation was "painter." He was supporting both his wife Lucille and his mother-in-law, Dora. His occupation changed after that Census.

In the 1930 US Census, his occupation was "pastor, village church" in Moorefield, Ohio. Also in the household were his wife and his 10-year-old daughter. In the 1938 city directory for Cincinnati, Ohio, Fred was listed as pastor of two Methodist Episcopal churches. 

In the 1940 US Census, he and his wife and 20-year-old daughter were living in Cincinnati, and his occupation was "minister." Fred's 1942 WWII draft card showed him living in Ohio, working for the Methodist Conference in Cincinnati. 

In the 1950 US Census, Fred and his wife and his daughter plus two granddaughters were living in California, where his occupation was "minister." City directories for various places in California show Fred as a clergyman from the 1950s through the 1970s. By 1981, his occupation in the city directory was listed as "retired."

Reverend Rinehart, Army chaplain

Fred's name appears in a detailed history of the 80th General Hospital unit in the Philippines. He served as a chaplain there from March to May of 1945, when the hospital was involved in evacuation activities and dealing with an overload of patients. I'm still hoping to learn more about his service before and after his time in the Philippines. 

In January 1986, Fred was laid to rest in Fairmont Memorial Park, Fairfield, Solano County, California. His obit mentions not only his decades of ministry but also his membership as a Mason and in the Order of the Eastern Star. He was survived by his wife, daughter, two granddaughters, and five great-grandchildren. In all, he served 48 years as a minister, including nearly 4 years as an Army chaplain.

It's my honor to write about Fred's dedication to service in peace and in war, keeping his memory alive for the future as Veterans Day approaches.

This week's #52Ancestors genealogy prompt, by Amy Johnson Crow, is war and peace.

Spirited Halloween Crafts, Future Family History

Three generations of my family (ages 4 and up) enjoyed a morning of spirited Halloween crafts last week. 

Not only did we have a fun time, we created memories that will be part of family history in the future, with photos as conversation starters. Maybe we'll look back on this craft day as the, uh, ghost of Halloween past!

Of course these spirited beauties will be represented in the family photo calendar for 2024.

Happy Halloween, and may you have treats, no tricks. 

Top: ghost, deep-sea fish, panda. Bottom: sad princess, watermelon, watermelon with sparkly rainbow. 

"Spirits" is the 52 Ancestors prompt for week 44, from Amy Johnson Crow. 

The Tragic Last Trip of Grandpa Isaac

Tintype taken around the time of their marriage in 1906

My paternal grandfather Isaac Burk died on this date, 80 years ago. At the time, he and my grandma Henrietta Mahler Burk, who lived in New York City, were on what was probably a rare trip during the war years. They had been married more than 37 years, and had four grown children. This vacation began with laughter and happiness, but ended in tragedy and tears.

Grandpa Isaac got me into genealogy

More than 25 years ago, my maternal cousin was creating a family tree and wanted to know a bit about my father's father. Unfortunately, I knew very little about Grandpa Isaac, who had died many years before my birth. All my cousin asked for was his death date and place. In the days before digital documentation and genealogy websites, it took me (an absolute beginner) a very long time to learn the sad story of Isaac's final days.

For months I researched New York deaths in the Bronx, Manhattan, and Brooklyn within a wide range of dates, with no luck. Eventually, I went to my library and used its New York Times historical database to search for Isaac's name in the death notices, remembering that my city-based family traditionally posted notices to let people know about funerals. I found a terse notice about Isaac Burk's death on Oct. 8, 1943 and his funeral service on Oct. 10, 1943, listing his wife and four children as survivors. No info about cemetery name or location. 

Now I dialed the NYC authorities, asking about a death cert from that period. A kind official put me on hold to look, believe it or not, and then returned to tell me that Isaac Burk had NOT died in New York city or state. What?? I threw myself on his mercy, asking for advice, since I had been searching for nearly two years and had no idea what to do next. He lowered his voice, not to be overhead by others in the office, and casually recommended I look out of state, such as in, say, Washington, D.C., of all places. 

Why were my grandparents in Washington, D.C.?

With this clue, I wrote away to the D.C. authorities and enclosed a check to pay for Isaac's death certificate. The cert arrived a few weeks later, and I was both excited and confused. My grandparents' "usual residence" was in New York City...but Isaac died of a heart attack at a residential address in Washington, D.C., and the informant was his brother-in-law, Louis Volk. I blogged about this mystery, and it caught the eye of a paternal cousin who filled in more details.

Isaac and Henrietta had traveled to Washington to stay with her favorite sister, Ida Mahler Volk, arriving in early October, 1943. World War II was raging, and I doubt my grandparents traveled very far or very often. Their two sons were serving in the US Army overseas. Their two daughters were married and in their own households. This trip must have been much-anticipated.

Isaac and Henrietta got together with other family members while in D.C. and enjoyed walking downtown, as well as sitting and chatting at Ida's home. It was a Friday afternoon, just after lunch in the home of Ida and her husband Louis, when Isaac had a heart attack and died. Grief-stricken, the family scrambled to have Isaac's body sent back to New York City, and his funeral was held that Sunday afternoon. He was buried in New Jersey. Small wonder I had great difficulty researching this ancestor's death in the pre-internet days. 

Years later, another paternal cousin found documentation that filled in the blanks of Isaac's last good day and his burial.

I'm grateful that my dear maternal cousin asked about Isaac, sending me on this genealogical journey and connecting me with dear paternal cousins.

Remembering Grandpa Isaac on this anniversary of his death.

"Travel" is this week's genealogy prompt from Amy Johnson Crow for her #52Ancestors series.

Surprise! How Floyda Met Brice

As I work on my latest family history photo book about hubby's maternal grandparents, I'm redoing some research and correlating older and newly-found details to tell the story of these ancestors.

Lo and behold, I believe I have solved a long-standing mystery: How did Floyda Mabel Steiner (1878-1948) meet master mechanic Brice Larimer McClure (1878-1948)? They were married on June 10, 1903, in Upper Sandusky, Ohio, where the Steiner family lived. But Brice was from Wabash, Indiana. Until now, my hypothesis was that his work for the railroad industry took him to Upper Sandusky. Turns out, that hypothesis was only partly correct, according to my latest research.

Newspaper social items 

Using newspaper databases, I found Brice mentioned several times in a Huntington, Indiana paper, in columns about current and previous employees of the Erie Railroad. In 1899, several social notes said Brice (living in Huntington) regularly visited his family in his old hometown of Wabash, Indiana. 

In March of 1902, this Huntington newspaper reported: "Brice McClure and Ott Christain, two former Erie machinists, were in the city today from Kokomo." Okay, Brice was no longer living or working in Huntington but he and his associate visited anyway. Seeing friends? Or . . .

Looking for Floyda, I found a social item from Huntington in September of 1902, with the newspaper reporting: "Miss Floyda Steiner, who has been a guest at the F.W. Rhuark home several weeks, returned to her home in Upper Sandusky, Ohio today."  

Key FAN Club link

This rang a bell about Floyda's sister Etta Blanche, married to Erie railroad mechanic Frank W. Rhuark. I went back to the 1900 US Census for the Rhuarks in Huntington, Indiana. They had a roomer with them: Otto Cristman, a machinist just like Frank Rhuark. Just like Brice. Snippet at top shows the Census, names creatively spelled.

In the past, I had no idea who this roomer was...but it's now clear he was a key member of the FAN club: a work associate of both Frank AND Brice. This man was the missing link, a definite connection between Brice and Floyda's family. 

Matchmaker sister and brother-in-law?!

Knowing that Brice and Ott had earlier worked for Erie RR, where Frank worked, and Ott once roomed with the Rhuarks, I conclude that Rhuarks were almost certainly involved in introducing Brice to Floyda, Blanche's sister.

Another reason for this matchmaker activity to occur away from Floyda's hometown is that she divorced her abusive first husband in 1901. Divorce was still uncommon and Floyda's family probably felt she had a better chance of meeting eligible men elsewhere. Thank you, Blanche and Frank, for setting the stage for Floyda and Brice to meet and marry.

"Surprise" is this week's 52 Ancestors genealogy prompt from Amy Johnson Crow. Never give up, and keep redoing your searches because new info becomes available all the time. I sure was surprised and happy to finally solve this family history mystery! 

Leona Walasyk from Lodz Becomes Lee Wallace in Hackensack

Long, long before I came to know her as "Aunt Lee," Leona Z. Wallace (1903-1989) was working hard to get an education, help bring up her two younger brothers, and create a steady path to prosperity for the entire family. 

As shown in the last line of the above 1950 US Census excerpt, Lee was born in Poland. By the 1930s, possibly earlier, Lee had Americanized her name to Wallace, and until I saw the 1950 Census I wasn't sure what her surname used to be. In 1950, she was enumerated as a "head of household" despite living in the same very nice home in Hackensack, New Jersey with her two brothers, Charles Walasyk and Edward Walasyk, who never changed their names.* Correction: They changed their names later in life.

Charles, also enumerated as a head, was married with two children in the household, working as a salesman. In addition, their brother Edward, a water engineer, was staying with them in Hackensack. He was married and actually lived elsewhere with his family, but was enumerated with his siblings on this Census day in 1950. 

My research shows Edward was not born in Poland but actually in New Jersey, as was Charles, so I'm fairly sure none of the Walasyk/Wallace siblings actually spoke with the enumerator in 1950. Talk about prosperity: The spacious Hackensack home where they all lived in 1950 is now updated and worth a pretty penny. 

Back in 1950, Lee was doing quite well, which you wouldn't know from simply reading her enumerated occupation: "public relations, department store." 

I've written before that Lee headed up the famous, fabulous Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade for a number of years, including 1950. Around this time, my mother's twin sister Dorothy went to work for Macy's and met Lee. The two hit it off, personally and professionally.

Not only did they work on the parade together, they were hired to assist with the annual Barnum Festival in Bridgeport, Connecticut in 1953. In March of that year, the Bridgeport Telegram reported that Miss Lee Wallace had "built up the Macy parade to the biggest balloon parade in the country." The final sentence of the news item reads: "Accompanying Miss Wallace was Miss Dorothy H. Schwartz, her associate." 

My aunt Dorothy Schwartz (1919-2001) soon left the world of parades and publicity to become a high school teacher in the Bronx, driving from New Jersey every work day. I later learned that Lee and Dorothy were savvy with their household finances, being able to afford a brand new car every other year as well as annual summer and winter vacations. Aunt Lee had no trace of an accent, and she never spoke of her past to me, a little girl who appreciated her affection and attention.

This week's #52Ancestors prompt from Amy Johnson Crow is "prosperity."

A Family of Tradesmen = My Summer Favorite In-Laws

This summer, my favorite in-laws (in my husband's family tree) are the Cornwell family, a multigenerational family of silversmiths/watchmakers/jewelry store proprietors. 

Asenath Cornwell (1808-1897) married James Larimer (1806-1847), my hubby's 3d great-grand uncle. As I posted a few months ago, Asenath was widowed early and made the bold decision to go to the Gold Rush with her brother, John Cornwell, in 1852. Brother and sister wrote journals of their journey and experiences. The journals are fascinating first-person accounts of that time and place. 

John Cornwell (1812-1883) was a lifelong jeweler, watchmaker, and silversmith. He understood the value of gold and was sorely disappointed not to find very much during his Gold Rush years. No doubt his family was disappointed as well, since his wife and children remained in Athens, Ohio, when he was panning for gold in California. Occasionally John put gold dust into a letter for his wife Ann, but he never struck it rich. 

Returning to Athens in 1856, John opened the jewelry store that successive generations of Cornwell descendants operated until 2019. As shown in the Census lines at top, John's occupation in 1860 was watchmaker, in 1870 it was silver smith, and in 1880 it was jewelry (creatively spelled).

John's son David Coleman Cornwell (1844-1938) served in Company B of the 141st Regt of the Ohio Volunteer Infantry during the US Civil War. After the war, he followed the family trade, becoming a silversmith and jeweler. Retiring in his 60s, David was already twice widowed. 

Still, he couldn't stop thinking about a young lady he used to know from Athens, Ellen Jane Sams (1855-1938). Somehow David tracked her down in Illinois, according to a news report in May of 1909, discovered she too had been widowed, and quickly proposed. They were happily married for 29 years until Ellen's death in 1938. David died just a few months later. 

With colorful stories like these, you can see why the Cornwell in-laws are my summer favorites.

"Tradesman" is Amy Johnson Crow's genealogy prompt for this week in her #52Ancestors series. 

Are Genealogy Blogs Still Relevant?

Years ago, I followed and browsed hundreds of genealogy blogs each week. Some focused on the blogger's own family's history; some explained technical aspects of genealogy; some discussed researching specific geographic locations or ethnic groups; some examined old family photos; some documented particular cemeteries; some profiled military ancestors; and on and on. 

I didn't read every post, but I skimmed whatever caught my eye and sometimes found myself marveling at somebody's unexpected discovery. Found myself cheering for bloggers who found elusive ancestors, following along as bloggers visited graveyards or ancestral villages in search of new connections, hoped bloggers would finally get their hands on something that confirmed long-held hypotheses. 

From genealogy bloggers, I learned so many new tips and tricks that helped me with specific websites or software or research resources or translation challenges. Along the way, I enjoyed getting a sense of each blogger's personality, interests, and family history background. 

That was then, this is now

Today, after removing bloggers who haven't posted anything at all in 2023, my feed is down to just 45 genealogy blogs--some of which have only a handful of posts so far this year. In addition, I periodically dip into selected blogs written by Geneabloggers members. But here again, some bloggers have ceased posting in recent years or post quite irregularly. 

I know there are bloggers who've transitioned to videos and podcasts rather than writing individual blog posts. Also some have chosen a deep dive into more interactive social media and cut back on blog posts. 

Meanwhile, the world of social media has been fragmented in recent months by the ongoing turmoil on Twitter/X and the emergence of competitors such as Mastodon and BlueSky and Threads and ... [fill in the blank with latest and greatest]. Thankfully, Facebook genealogy groups continue to offer advice and assistance when participants need local knowledge or research suggestions. Although I'm not on Instagram, some genealogy folks love the platform. I'm on Pinterest but only to pin my blog posts. 

Why read? Why blog?

Despite all the alternatives, I believe genealogy blogs are still relevant. In fact, I hope blogging (or family history websites) will be making a comeback. The genealogy community is strong and vibrant and generous with help and ideas. I can't count the number of times I've learned about a new technique or specialized resource from a blogger, and as a result, made a fresh discovery or gained fresh insight. 

With a genealogy blog, I can write what I like, whenever I feel like writing, and it's available for you whenever you feel like reading. Nobody is restricting the length of my blog posts or the topics or how many posts I can write. Nobody is throttling your ability to follow my blog or read any post. I get blogging ideas from my own research, from the brickwalls I face or the discoveries I make, from posts by other bloggers, from comments by readers, and from prompts such as the #52Ancestors series from Amy Johnson Crow.

As I've said in the past, for privacy reasons, I don't name living relatives. If I want to mention a relative who's alive and kicking, I might refer to "Cousin B" or "Philly Cuz." My personal choice is to avoid posting family history info that might cause distress or harm to someone still living. So far as I know, there are no bigamists or murderers in my family tree, but if I discovered one and a descendant was still alive, I wouldn't blog about that situation. 

And, as a reader pointed out in a comment, blogs are excellent cousin bait, today and tomorrow. Posts are available 24/7 whenever anyone is searching for a surname or ancestral town that I've mentioned at any point in the past.

I've been on this genealogy journey for 25 years, and blogging about it for nearly 16 years (my Sweet Sixteen blogiversary is in a few days). If you're a genealogy blogger, I thank you for helping me along on this journey and inspiring me to keep digging. If you're not blogging, maybe this is a good time to begin?

Work, Larimer, and Short Family Reunions, 1900-1920

On and off for two decades, my husband's Larimer ancestors gathered with their Work and Short cousins/in-laws/friends for reunions in and around Elkhart, Indiana. Cynthia H. Larimer (1814-1882) married Abel Everett Work (1815-1898) in Fairfield County, Ohio, in 1836, and her niece Margaret Larimer (1825-1877) married Thomas Short (1820-1885) in Elkhart County, Indiana in 1842. Each of the news items reporting on these reunions added a few clues to help me identify children, grandchildren, and in-laws as I researched relationships, full names, and dates for this part of the family tree.

The three families of Work, Larimer, and Short "are bound by ties of blood and early friendships," as reported in the reunion coverage by the Elkhart Daily Review of June 26, 1901. This news item listed some of the 110 reunion attendees, including the "dean of the party," my hubby's 2d great-grandpa, Brice Larimer (1819-1906), the oldest participant. At this time, the three families had an actual organization, with elected officers who planned the reunions in advance.

Some creative math is used to count the number of annual reunions held. The 1901 news item said the Work, Larimer, and Short families were holding their second annual reunion. When the same newspaper covered the three-family reunion in 1903, it was called the fifth annual reunion. 😉

A scaled-down reunion was held in 1904, according to this same newspaper, with only Work relatives in attendance instead of all three families being represented. In 1906, the Elkhart Weekly Review reported that up to 50 attendees were expected at a three-family reunion in August. 

Finally, the Elkhart Truth of May 20, 1920 described a Work-Larimer reunion held by "descendants of Abel Everett Work and Isaac Larimer." The Work, Larimer, and Short branches of the family tree were all represented. Maybe that was the last reunion, because I haven't found further news coverage. I'm grateful for any news coverage at all, adding to the clues as I check every name, age, family connection, and location.

To commemorate these intertwined families, including surnames of earlier and later generations, I created the colorful word cloud at top. Here's the free site I used.

"Reunion" is this week's genealogy prompt for #52Ancestors, from Amy Johnson Crow. 

When Grandpa Teddy Made News in 1937

A few years after I began my genealogy journey, I used my local library's access to the New York Times historical database to research my parents and grandparents. Since many ancestors lived and worked in the New York City area, I expected to find mainly birth/marriage/death notices and an occasional mention of a business or a graduation.

What a jolt to find a news item about an armed robbery spree on the night of December 16, 1937. The first store robbed was owned by my grandpa, Theodore Schwartz (1887-1965). Here's what the reporter wrote:

Band Robs 3 Stores; three armed men get $300 in series of Bronx raids

Three armed men within an hour and a half held up three storekeepers in the Bronx last night and escaped with $300. About 9:30 o'clock they entered the grocery store of Theodore Schwartz at 679 Fox Street, hit him on the head with a pistol butt when he resisted, and took $50. Half an hour later, they went into the grocery store of Louise Lepperman at 422 Jackson Avenue and hit him with a pistol, but left quickly when his wife screamed from a back room. In another half an hour, they forced Leonard Gaglio and his brother, Milton, liquor dealers at 1012 Morris Park Avenue, into a back room and took $250.

Yikes, this was during the Depression when money as scarce and store owners sweated over every penny. The $50 stolen from Grandpa Teddy 86 years ago would be worth about $1,000 in 2023. Poor Grandpa had to go home and give Grandma the terrible news--it must have been an awful scene. Let me add that in 1937, the Bronx was not a high-crime area, but shopkeepers who stayed open late were a tempting target for sure. 

Grandpa Teddy and Grandma Minnie (Hermina Farkas Schwartz, 1888-1964) owned and operated a small dairy store for about 40 years, changing locations a couple of times and finally selling and retiring in 1955. No news coverage of all the years of routine drudgery, opening the store early and closing it late six or seven days a week, standing on their feet for hours, trying to cover all the bills.

Using the wonderful photo enhancement tools at MyHeritage, I brought Grandpa and his store to life in a way that recalls his usual good humor, not the terror of being robbed at gunpoint. Of course I'm telling Grandpa's story of being "in the news" in my latest Farkas/Schwartz family history photo book.

"In the news" is this week's 52 Ancestors genealogy challenge from Amy Johnson Crow.

Chronicling My Farkas Ancestors

My latest family history photo book is about my Farkas ancestors, starting with the journey-takers who came to America at the turn of the 20th century. 

Great-grandfather Moritz Farkas (1857-1946), born in Hungary, was financially ruined when a hail storm destroyed his crops, leading him to sail to New York in search of a new life in 1899. A year later, his wife, great-grandma Leni Kunstler Farkas (1865-1938) followed him to New York. Their eight children arrived at Ellis Island in two groups during the next couple of years...and then they got to meet the three youngest children who were born in Manhattan.

My grandma Hermina Farkas was in the first group of children to be reunited with their parents in a tenement in the Lower East Side of Manhattan. Refusing an arranged marriage, she married grandpa Theodore Schwartz in 1911. 

The photo book under construction includes a colorful word cloud featuring the many surnames and given names of the Farkas and Kunstler and Schwartz ancestors in my family tree. I use this free word cloud generator.

Just this week, I wrote a brief bio of my great uncle Fred Farkas (1903-1980) for the photo book. Fred, named for his late grandfather in Hungary, became an accountant and worked for Stinson Aircraft during WWII. Later, he became vice president and controller for Jacobson's Department Stores in Jackson, Michigan. 

Happy birthday to Fred, born on July 15th, 120 years ago this week. He and his parents and siblings are among the Farkas ancestors I'm chronicling in this latest photo book.

"Birthday" is the week 29 genealogy prompt for Amy Johnson Crow's #52Ancestors series. 

Gold Rush Diaries Chip Away Brick Wall

Who knew that Asenath Cornwell Larimer (1808-1897) wasn't the only one in her family to keep a diary of the difficult journey from Ohio to California during the Gold Rush era? 

Asenath: wife, mother, widow, sister, Gold Rush participant

Asenath married hubby's 3d great uncle, James Larimer (1806-1847) in Fairfield, Ohio. They had six children together and were pioneer farmers in Indiana before he was thrown from a horse and died one winter evening. 

Widowed with five youngsters at home, she sold her share of the family farm and joined with her brother John and others to try to strike it rich in California. They embarked on this risky venture on Tuesday, March 16, 1852. Asenath kept a written journal of the experience, which I've blogged about before. She briefly mentioned her parents, but nothing concrete enough to track them down by name or place or date.

Asenath's parents were a brick wall...Online family trees show names, not always the same names, and no real sources. Then a sudden breakthrough!

John: husband, father, jewelry merchant, brother, Gold Rush participant

Through a previous online search, I ascertained that Asenath's brother John Cornwell (1812-1883) had owned a jewelry store in Athens, Ohio. My query: John Cornwell Athens Ohio. One top result was a news item about the long history of John's jewelry business.

Today I tried a slightly different search: for John Cornwell Gold Rush Ohio. I found a surprising and exciting result. John, it turns out, also wrote a diary of the Gold Rush adventure, also beginning with an entry on March 16, 1852. His journal is archived in Ohio (see screen grab at top, from OhioLink), not close to where I live. Brother and sister journals!

The finding aid includes a brief bio of John, contributed by his descendants. A better starting point for parents' names, dates, places, helping to chip away at that brick wall. More research is needed to verify specific dates and places if possible, but I'm on my way now.

Also in my search results: A new book by descendants of John Cornwell, analyzing his journal and providing more family background. Published only a few months ago, Lots of Rush but Little Gold, will give me much more info about the Cornwell family in the 19th century, when I receive my copy. The book by descendants would not have been in the results for searches before the publication date of October, 2022. Timing makes a difference.

My takeaways

First, never give up on a brick wall, just circle back for a fresh look now and again. Second, thoroughly investigate siblings (and other close relatives) because they may prove to be the key to chipping away a brick wall. Third, try different online searches at different times, and examine results on the first several pages, not just the top result. 

"Brick wall" is the week 21 genealogy prompt for #52Ancestors by Amy Johnson Crow.

Bird-Brain Pets in Family History

Living in a New York City apartment, my parents felt we had no space or time for four-legged pets. But we did have a parakeet, always blue, always a boy! 

Directly above, Maxie, sitting on the shoulder of "Aunt" Lee Wallace, the life partner of my Auntie Dorothy Schwartz.

At top of post, you can see Tyrone, another parakeet pet, sitting on "Sha," the favorite doll of my niece. That niece, now grown up with a family of her own, has two big dogs she dearly loves.

Back in the day, my sisters and I got a kick out of our bird-brain pets, teaching them to speak intelligent phrases like "Stupid birdie." 

"Pets" is the week 18 prompt from Amy Johnson Crow's genealogy challenge, #52Ancestors. 

A is for Asenath: Wife, Mother, Pioneer, Baker, Library Founder

This week's #52Ancestors prompt from Amy Johnson Crow is "begins with a vowel." Great--a chance to write about one of the favorite female ancestors in my husband's family tree: Asenath Cornwell Larimer (1808-1897). At top, Asenath's home in Santa Monica, California, where she spent her last years after quite an adventurous life.

Canada to Ohio to Indiana

Asenath and her siblings were born in Canada, according to multiple Census records over multiple years. How she wound up in Ohio, I don't know. But on August 14, 1832, in Fairfield county, Ohio, she married hubby's great-great-great uncle James Larimer (1806-1847). They had 6 children together (sadly, one died in infancy). Within a year, they moved to Elkhart county, Indiana as pioneer farmers, clearing heavily wooded land to raise crops.

After James was accidentally thrown from a horse and died early in 1847, Asenath was left the family farm in Indiana and still had five children under the age of 10 to raise. Her brothers and in-laws helped out, but it was a struggle.

Gold Rush journey

Within a few years, she made a bold but emotionally difficult decision: Sell the farm, leave the children in care of family and friends, and use the money to accompany her brother John Cornwell, a jewelry merchant, on a journey to the Gold Rush in California. Starting in March, 1852, they took two steamboats en route to joining a wagon train at Lexington, Missouri. 

During the long, arduous trip west, Asenath wrote in a journal from March 1852-March 1853 about the daily thoughts and events of that period. Although her oldest son tried to dissuade her from leaving for California, she wrote in her journal about her strong faith: "...looking forward to the dangers and trails of the way, I feel very gloomy, but in the Lord put I my trust." She missed her children very much, yet she was hopeful of establishing herself in a new place where she could earn a living and the family would be reunited in the future.

By mid-May of 1852, her wagon train joined a "constant crowd of wagons" headed west. She wrote: "Colera [sic] and small pox both among these trains. 30 fresh graves have been counted on that road." Several more of her traveling companions sickened, passed away, and were buried, even as babies were born. 

California had been a state for less than two years--and Asenath writes of passing out of the United States, then entering the States again during the journey. By September of 1852, six months after leaving Indiana, she and her brother John reached Volcano (east of Sacramento). They went 8 miles further to Clinton, where they chose a lot and set up a tent. Her brother prospected for gold while Asenath earned a bit of cash washing, patching, and baking. 

After a while, when her brother did not strike gold, she moved to San Francisco and reinvented herself based on her skill in baking. 

John, for his part, traveled back to his family in Athens, Ohio the long way, around the tip of South America, and reopened his jewelry store. The store prospered for more than a century, finally closing its doors in 2019.

Putting down roots in California

Meanwhile, Asenath opened a bakery in San Francisco in the early 1860s. Soon, one of her married sons moved west and she lived with him and his family, continuing her bakery business. 

Later, she moved south to Santa Monica in Los Angeles County, Calif., where she was a force in establishing the first public library. Her granddaughter Elfie Asenath Mosse (1867-1939) was the first librarian in 1890. The quote above talks about Asenath's early involvement in the Santa Monica community and library.

Asenath never remarried. At the age of nearly 89, she passed away in 1897 and was buried in Woodlawn Cemetery in Santa Monica. I'm in the process of putting her bite-sized bio in multiple places, including here, WikiTree, and Find a Grave.

Remembering Asenath

Thanks to her journal and her civic involvement, Asenath has been mentioned in a number of sources that are digitized and searchable online. I hadn't seen her home before, which is in the Santa Monica Image Archives (image is at top of post). But clearly, Asenath is going to be remembered inside and outside the family, because her name and her life are referenced in a variety of places (not just on my blog and family trees).

This first post of April is dedicated to the courage, resilience, and faith of Asenath Cornwell Larimer, hubby's great-great-great aunt. PS: I'm going to continue looking at Asenath's family background. Bet I'll find lots of interesting folks!