52 Ancestors Week 20: Travel

This prompt is a week late, and there is a substantial gap since the last post. Although this quarantine theoretically provides more time, it has been hard to establish a routine. (It’s hard even to remember which day of the week it is.) In addition to that—or perhaps because of that—I have been finding most of the prompts uninspiring. An idea may spring to mind, but then I realize either that it has already been written about, or that there is a lack of information to support my ideas. However, this theme of “Travel” brings definite ideas to mind, and ones on which it is currently quite pleasant to dwell. Aren’t we all longing to travel?

Last summer my parents and I took a road trip to eastern Washington state and into the Idaho panhandle, and the previous year we took a similar trip farther south. In the summer of 1911 my great-grandfather, John S. Brosius, also took a trip to Idaho, and saw some of the same country that we would see over a hundred years later. His impressions were reported in the Sedan Times-Star upon his return to Kansas.

Reading that article, it is clear that he and I were looking through very different eyes. I was looking for beauty in the landscape and novelty in the sights. John S. Brosius was looking through the eyes of a farmer, judging the possibilities of planting, plowing, and harvesting. “The farms are mere hilltops… and a team must be driven corkscrew fashion around the hills. No team could begin to pull a load straight up the hill or hold it back going down,” he says of the land around Weiser, where he visited John Walker, Ben Steinweden, “and other Chautauquans,” relocated there from John Brosius’ own home of Chautauqua county, Kansas.

My memories of the Weiser area are of a cute Old Town containing a decent music store and an offbeat furniture store, among other things, in the midst of picturesque velvety hills. To me, the rounded hills contributed to the charm of the place, and their steepness entered my mind only as adding a gratifying briskness to a jaunt, had I been given the opportunity to climb them. To me they appeared quite gentle. 

John S. Brosius lamented that “he does not believe the Snake river country, where many are taking claims, will be irrigated for years and years if it ever is.” I cannot speak to whether it has been irrigated in the last 110 years, although I suspect it has, because we drove over a dam, but the Hell’s Canyon area must have looked much like it looked to Great-Grandpa. While I admired the landscape, my mom’s comments were more reminiscent of John’s, if expressed in different terms. “It’s too dry,” she complained.

“Mr. Brosius says the Blackfoot country looked better to him than any other part of Idaho,” offered the Sedan Times-Star, but “He would not live there, he says, on account of the dust. It is something awful.” My family’s road trips did not extend quite so far to the east. I will be curious to one day compare my impressions of that area to my great-grandfather’s.



Here is a transcription of the entire article of John S. Brosius’ unflattering description of Idaho:

BACK TO SUNNY KANSAS
IDAHO’S LURE TOO WEAK TO TO HOLD JOHN BROSIUS.
SEES MANY DEFECTS THERE
“Corkscrew Farming” on Western Idaho’s Hills Has No Attraction for Him—Back Here to Stay.

John Brosius returned this week from a trip to Idaho and the northwest and that he very much prefers Kansas to that country is very evident from his conversation. He saw most of the Chautauqua colony in Idaho and says that nearly all of them, if not all, are satisfied and happy. But as for him, he will stay right here at Sedan. The lure of the west is not strong enough to pull him away.

Mr. Brosius visited John Walker, Ben Steinweden and other Chautauquans over near Weiser, iin the west part of Idaho. He found them happy and well although he says he would not like to farm such land. The farms are mere hilltops, he says and a team must be driven corkscrew fashion around the hills. No team could begin to pull a load straight up the hill or hold it back going down. The land is so steep that the grain is hard to harvest. Yet it produces good crops. Mr. Steinweden says he “cussed” his farm when he first went there but now he admits he “would not trade it for half of Chautauqua county.” Mr. Walker raised quite a lot of fruit last year but had difficulty in selling it as under the Idaho law fruit that is damaged cannot be sold at anything like a full price.

Mr. Brosius says the Blackfoot country looked better to him than any other part of Idaho. He would not live there, he says, on account of the dust. It is something awful. He found Chautauquans there doing well for the most part, although some of them are still hunting work.

As a whole, however, Mr. Brosius saw many drawbacks to the Idaho country. For instance, he does not believe the Snake river country, where many are taking claims, will be irrigated for years and years if it ever is. He says the farmers over at the other side of the state are likewise crying for water right now and can hardly get enough for any purpose. The whole country, he says, has a man for every job and in most cases, several men for every job. Some of the last delegation to Blackfoot are still out of work while others are in the beet sugar plant which will run only until Dec. 1. Mr. Brosius saw many men on the trains coming out of Idaho and most of them had, like himself, concluded that other countries were just as good if indeed not much better.

Citation:

"Back to Sunny Kansas," Sedan Times-Star, 7 Sep 1911, p. 1, col. 4; digital images, Newspapers.com (www.newspapers.com : accessed 26 Jan 2020), World Collection.

52 Ancestors Week 15: Fire

The Stroesser home, at 417 N. 40th, Omaha, Nebraska.

The first thought that came to mind upon seeing the prompt "Fire" was of the burning of the Hoyt house in 1948, but I already wrote about that for "Disaster" in Week 9. So this week I am going for a more lighthearted approach. (With what is going on in the world right now, I'm not exactly in the mood to write about my 2great-grandmother who burned to death.) I'll write about a different sense of the word fire. This post will be about the time that shots were fired at my Stroesser great-grandparents' house. That would be Harry and Mary Stroesser of Omaha, Nebraska.

Shots in the Night Send Watch to Jail

A shot pierced the stillness of the early morning hours in front of the home of Harry Stroesser, 417 North Fortieth street, Friday. Stroesser awakened, saw a man staggering towards the rear of his yard. Then came another shot. Police were notified.

William Pickens, block watchman living at 2014 Farnam street, was found near Thirty-first and Farnam streets, his revolver showing four empty shells which had recently been discharged. Pickens was charged with drunkeness and discharging firearms in the city.

Luckily the firing of these shots seems to have had no negative consequences, apart from the legal charges against the intoxicated shooter, which seems only reasonable.

If the newspaper article were the only source to share for this event, it would be interesting enough. But there may be more. In 2002, I received a copy of the oral history as remembered by one of my cousins, a grandchild of Harry and Mary Stroesser. An incident, heard second-hand, is recalled in that typescript. It is possible, but probably not provable, that the information given in the newspaper article is only part of the story. There may have been more to the story, which would have been inappropriate to share with the authorities at the time.

The date of the newspaper article was 26 Aug 1933, about three months before the repeal of Prohibition. "With...prohibition the rule of the day, Grandpa turned to a form of bootlegging," my cousin reveals. 

Aunt Clara’s husband Tudd Hill says he remembers a still in the basement at the family home at 417 North 40th Street, but he says Grandpa never sold the drink. He would trade it or serve to his friends who came over for hours of cribbage in the basement, while Grammy stayed in the kitchen with the kids.

My dad (Joe) remembers men coming to the side window at night and sneaking away in the darkness. One man while sneaking away, bumping into the tire swing in the backyard and, thinking it was someone apprehending him, shot the tire with his pistol.

Could this be the real story behind the drunk block watchman firing shots outside the Stroesser house? His inebriated condition could be the logical conclusion of an evening of cribbage and bathtub liquor. The friendship between the shooter and Harry Stroesser might have caused them to change a fact or two around for the authorities: i.e. say that he was approaching the house rather than leaving it, so as not to implicate Harry as a possible source of the alcohol in his system.

Of course, this is all pure speculation on my part. I have no proof, and scarcely any evidence, that the incident reported in the newspaper and that recalled by my cousin are the same. It does seem unlikely, however, that there would have been two such similar events. But if there were, it only adds to this week's prompt of "fire," with more shots fired!

52 Ancestors Week 14: Water

Grandpa Red, Vinis Brosius, spent a lot of time in the water. My dad mentioned to me the other evening that he remembers Lowell (Red's brother) telling him that Red had been a champion diver at (he thinks it was) Vancouver Pool. I myself remember hearing that Red used to high dive at Jantzen Beach Amusement Park, a much beloved icon of Portland's past. Although I have seen no photos of either of these accomplishments, there are photos of him in his swimsuit, playing on the beach with his brother and future wife and in-laws.

Lowell Brosius, Inez Underwood, Elsie (Underwood) Jones, Red Brosius, Flora (Amos) Underwood.
This would be Red with his brother and future (or current, depending on the date this photo was taken) sisters- and mother-in-law.

There are also stories of the time he saved a man from drowning in the Clackamas River. Once my dad showed me a newspaper clipping of that heroic event, but subsequent requests to see it again have resulted in the discovery that no one knew where it was anymore.

Until just the other day.

My dad opened up a box we had thought filled with photos, only to find stacks of letters, documents, charts, and more. The two of us spent a few hours rapidly sorting them into folders. Many of the items turned out to be things I have been seeking, such as the newspaper clipping about Grandpa's rescue, while others were things I didn't even know existed. It will be a pleasure to thoroughly examine each and every page later, but for now I can finally share that story.

I don't know in which newspaper the article originated, but I imagine it was the Oregon Journal, because I have been unable to find it in the Oregonian archives. However, this clipping most conveniently preserves the date: Friday, August 28, 1931. It also consistently misspells Grandpa's name as Vinas.

While Vinas Brosius, 6105 73d avenue and Aaron Babcock, 75th avenue and 63d street were swimming in the Clackamas river near the fish hatchery last Sunday they did some good rescue work in saving the life of a man named Fred Wilson, about 25 years old. Vinas first saw the man go down, went to where he was and brought him to the waters edge and called Aaron to assist him in taking him out of the water. Others assistance was summoned and the man was soon restored to normal. Vinas and Aaron are both about 16 years old.

This story is slightly different than I remember it. As I recall, it happened near High Rocks, a few miles downriver from the fish hatchery, and involved diving from a bridge. According to Dad, there were actually a couple of rescues that appeared in newspaper clippings, and perhaps it is the other one that I am recollecting. My quick search through the folder of papers we sorted out for Grandpa did not locate another article, but the folder is rather thick and it is possible I passed it without knowing. It is also possible that in our fast-paced sorting we accidentally mis-filed it, and I may later find it in someone else's folder.

52 Ancestors Week 13: Nearly Forgotten

It is somewhat ironic that I nearly forgot to write a blog post this week, when the theme is "Nearly Forgotten." I was distracted from my usual routine by hearing the news that we can now upload our raw DNA to Geneanet. Immediately I went to the English-language version of that European genealogy website and uploaded my DNA. While waiting for matches to be found, I began to input my family tree. (Although it takes much time, I always input my tree manually. My gedcom contains too many unproven or conjectural lines and I don't want them to become internet "fact" without proper research.) Since I have previously seen trees at Geneanet which contain members of my Luxembourg families, I began with that quarter of my tree, under the supposition that it is the most likely branch on which my European DNA cousins and I will match.

There are a couple of twigs on my Luxembourg branch that extend quite far back, into the seventeenth century. As I typed in the information on these lines, I realized how sparse it was. When researching, it had been as a quick skeleton tree, finding only enough information to identify the parents of each individual and where to find the next record to move the tree back another generation. I had intended to return and fill in the gaps: locate full sets of records for each person and identify all the children of each couple. But I never did.

Now I shall return to these nearly forgotten tasks. Perhaps you will hear more about it in the near future.

52 Ancestors Week 12: Popular

How to be very, very popular

That is the subject, friends.

A gal with charm can walk off the farm

And start earning dividends

If she's popular, popular, popular friends.

-"How to Be Very, Very Popular" lyric by Sammy Cahn, 1955

MyHeritage recently released a new tool that has become quite popular, and for good reason. It automatically colorizes your old black-and-white family photos. For the most part, it does a very nice job. Like many others, I have been having some fun looking at my ancestors in color. Although the colorizations are simply guesses (you can't be certain that the couch or the shirt was really that color, and in some cases I can actually disprove the color choices), it does bring an immediacy to the old photos that can be surprising.

Grandma Aileen and Grandpa Red Brosius in Netarts, Oregon, late 1930s or early 1940s

Grandma Rose Stroesser on her first leave from the Navy, with her sister Clare.

Not only do the pictures often seem more lifelike, but occasionally the color can bring out details that easily go unnoticed in the black and white versions.

Great-uncle Lowell Brosius on a tricycle. Although clearly visible in the original, the barn in the background is much more noticeable in color.

Of course, sometimes the choice in colors goes humorously awry. I noticed a propensity for bare arms and bare legs to come out a greyish periwinkle color, very different from any normal skin tone.

Grandma Aileen Underwood at her high school graduation, with her sister Inez. Her arms were never that color in real life, nor were either girl's legs.

The tool is a colorization tool, advertised as adding color to black and white photos. However, I was curious how it would treat a faded color photograph.

Great-aunt Doris and Great-uncle Bill Underwood's 25th Anniversary

In some cases I was rather impressed with the results. It seems, however, that the color photo must be converted to black and white and then colorized from there, because in some of the pictures the colors chosen for the colorization are most definitely not those in the original.

Grandma Rose and Grandpa Jack Hoyt. The original, though faded, is far more colorful than the colorization!

All in all, I have been greatly enjoying MyHeritage's popular new colorization tool, despite its shortfalls. I appreciate the ability to download the results as a comparison between the original and the colorized version, as all the examples posted on this blog entry.

I am not affiliated with MyHeritage in any way, except as a subscriber.

52 Ancestors Week 11: Luck

A horse and buggy in 1909
On the road, 1909 by Fylkesarkivet i Vestland, on Flickr. No known copyright restrictions.

When I saw that this week's prompt was "Luck," the first thought that leapt to mind was of a certain newspaper report about an incident involving my great-grandma Cora's brother, Buchanan Wade, whom my Uncle Lowell (and probably the rest of the kids) called "Uncle Buck." But no, I reasoned, I have told that story too many times; it has featured in my Instagram feed and in my WikiTree comments. Surely I have written about it on my blog as well. A search of my blog posts, however, revealed that the story has yet to be told here, so I am free to share it this week!

Upon reading the article, you will discover that the phrase "leapt to mind" was something of a pun...

Horse Falls 30 Feet; Lands In Tree-Top and Wasn't Hurt
   It is said that a cat has nine lives but now it is believed that a horse belonging to Buck Wade has all the cats in catdom beaten a mile. Mr. Wade's horse jumped over the guard rails on the big fill by the ice plant Tuesday morning, fell fully thirty feet into the top of a tree and apparently was none the worse for its thrilling adventure.
   Mr. Wade was driving east along the north side of the fill when an approaching auto frightened his animal. The horse whirled to the guard rail and Mr. Wade leaped for his life, landing safely on the road side. But the horse went on and landed with the buggy on top of it in a tree at the bottom of the creek below. How it escaped instant death is a miracle. Probably such a thing could never happen again without fatal results either to the horse or its driver.
   Men in the vicinity rushed to the scene and got the horse out as quickly as they could. The animal walked away just a little stiff in some of its joints but otherwise apparently safe and sound. The buggy fared much worse, being torn all to pieces.

It seems that both Uncle Buck and his horse had plenty of luck that day. Only the buggy did not share in their good fortune.

The article does not state what make of auto was involved, but this Firestone-Columbus automobile (in this case, chauffering presidential candidate William Jennings Bryan) was one of the vehicles on American roads at the time.
Unknown author / Public domain

Citation:

"Horse Falls 30 Feet; Lands In Tree-Top and Wasn't Hurt," Sedan Times-Star, 25 Nov 1909, p. 1, col. 5-6; digital images, America's GenealogyBank (www.genealogybank.com : accessed 15 Aug 2011), Historical Newspapers. 

52 Ancestors Week 10: Strong Woman

Katie Sandwina, "The Lady Hercules," lifting three men
Bain News Service / Public domain

It is incredibly difficult to narrow down the topic of "Strong Woman" to a single woman in my family. In just one generation--that of my great-grandparents--it is impossible to decide. There is Great-Grandma Flora (Amos) Underwood, who left England with her husband and infant son, to travel across the ocean on a journey to America, knowing she would never see her home in England again. She left a comfortable middle-class life for the unknown world of the western U.S., living almost a pioneer existence and learning the skills along the way.

There is Great-Grandma Cora (Wade) Brosius, who raised a family of six boys and one girl in Kansas, married to a man nearly twenty years older than she was. When he died and left her with four children who were still quite young, she packed those children into a car and the five of them drove across the country to the Pacific Northwest to begin their new lives.

There is Great-Grandma Mary (Craig) Stroesser, who grew up in "the Bottoms" in Omaha, a neighborhood marked by its shanty houses and poverty, and frequently flooded by the nearby Missouri River. She went on to marry and give birth to thirteen children, suffering post-partum depression after many of them according to family lore, and suffering also the deaths of three of her sons. Although Grandma Rose, her daughter, had a strained relationship with her, it seems clear that Great-Grandma Mary was battling her own demons.

Then there is Great-Grandma Hazel (Fox) Hoyt, who, according to family lore, graduated valedictorian. Unlike my other great-grandmothers, she began to work outside the home during WWII, and continued to work after the war was over. She was a shipping clerk at Dehner Boot Company until her retirement. She was also the only great-grandmother whose lifetime overlapped my own.

Truly, I believe that you could pluck almost any woman off my family tree and, looking at her life and circumstances, come to find that she deserves the appellation of a "Strong Woman."

Wordless Wednesday: Grandma Aileen's Pedigree Scrapbooking Page

Just felt like sharing this digital scrapbooking page I created for Grandma Aileen's pedigree...

52 Ancestors Week 9: Disaster

Although I have been unable to find an example, surely in my nearly nine years of blogging I have alluded to the fact that my Grandpa Jack's family home burned sometime shortly after he returned from the service in WWII. It is a fact of which I have long been aware, and is the reason that so few photos from Grandpa's side of the family exist. Some of the few that do survive are actually singed around the edges, physical artifacts of that disaster.

For some reason, though, I never could seem to find any independent information on the fire. All I knew was the little that Grandpa told me. However, a mere two weeks ago, I finally found my first independent source: an article appeared in the 18 Aug 1948 edition of the Council Bluffs Nonpareil. So now I finally have a date for that fateful blaze. It must have happened on 11 Aug 1948.

The article reads:

Interior of Home Damaged by Fire

Fire, heat and smoke damaged the interior of the two-story home of Francis A. Hoyt, 1102 South Thirty-fifth street, Wednesday.

Two companies of firemen brought the blaze under control. It is believed a kerosene stove in the kitchen caused the fire. Hoyt told firemen he heard what sounded like an explosion in the stove.

 

Though brief, there is some valuable information contained in that article. First of all, as aforementioned, I can finally put a date to the incident. Secondly, the address is given. From city directories and other sources, I know that the Hoyts lived in that house from at least 1940 and continued to live there until at least 1957. There must have been some serious renovations made. Thirdly, it was a two-alarm fire. This makes me certain that this article is truly the correct event. In the past I have managed to find another article concerning a fire at the Hoyt house, but that one was a minor chimney fire and quickly put out. This one bears much more the character of the fire Grandpa spoke of. Lastly, the article says that the fire was believed to be caused by the kitchen stove. That rings a bell somewhere deep in my memory. It seems that Grandpa once told me that.

Incidentally, the Francis A. Hoyt referred to in the article was Grandpa's dad, my great-grandfather.

Citation:

"Interior of Home Damaged by Fire," Council Bluffs Nonpareil, 18 Aug 1948, p. 12, col. 1; digital images, Newspapers.com (www.newspapers.com : accessed 9 Feb 2020), World Collection. 

52 Ancestors Week 8: Prosperity

The theme of Prosperity brings to mind my great-grandfather Walter Underwood's sister and her husband. The newspaper article celebrating the couple's golden wedding anniversary makes them sound very prosperous indeed.

Maldon Golden Wedding

Mr. and Mrs. J. W. Bell.

To-day (Saturday) Mr. John William Bell, J. P., and Mrs. Bell, of Spital Road, Maldon, will celebrate their golden wedding. They were married at the Wantz Road Methodist Church, Maldon.

Mrs. Bell was the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. W. Underwood, of Hawkwell. Mr. Bell is a native of Westgate, near Weardale, Co. Durham, and came to Maldon in 1886 to assist in the construction of the Maldon-Southminster-Southend railway. On the completion of that line he remained in employment with the old Great Eastern Railway as a foreman platelayer, a position he held until he retired on reaching the age limit of 65.

In 1907 Mr. Bell was elected delegate for the G.E.R. Permanent Way Department on the Joint Conciliation Board, representing the extensive Ipswich district. For some years he devoted his spare time to endeavouring to improve the conditions of railway workers, and he played a big part in the reduction of hours and the increase of wages. When the Maldon branch was formed, Mr. Bell was appointed chairman, and he held that office until the branch was amalgamated with the National Union of Railwaymen 17 years later. Mr. Bell has always been an ardent Trade Unionist.

Mr. Bell was for some years chairman of the Maldon Co-operative Education Committee. In 1918 he was appointed a Justice of the Peace for the borough, and is about to commence his sixth successive year of office as chairman of the Juvenile Court. For three years he served on the Town Council, and for some time was a member of the Maldon Board of Guardians.

Mr. Bell is 74 and his wife 71. There is no family, but Mr. and Mrs. Bell have brought up a niece, who is now a Sister under the L.C.C. at the Eastern Fever Hospital, Homerton.

Source:

"Maldon Golden Wedding," The Essex Newsman, 31 Dec 1938, p. 1, col. 2; digital images, British Newspaper Archive (http://www.britishnewspaperarchive.co.uk : accessed 26 Dec 2012), Brightsolid in partnership with the British Library.

Abraham Amos' parents - part 2

A while ago I traced the parents of my 3great-grandfather Abraham Amos, determining them to be Thomas Amos and Amy Dunn. Since then, I have continued pushing the line back, and have gone back quite far--to the seventeenth century--on one of the maternal lines. Recently, however, in a Google search for something else, I stumbled across an apparently well-researched genealogical site that threw my conclusions into doubt.

The site is called Faded Genes, and is a project to trace the ancestry of some Kentish soldiers who died during WWI. Two of my 2great-grandfather George Amos' nephews, Ernest Richard Amos and Fred Amos, are featured. They are sons of his brother Thomas, and therefore share his ancestry on their paternal side. The information on the site agrees with my research that their grandparents were Abraham Amos and Isabella Cock. It also agrees with my research on the Cock family, and even gives me a hint that one of the Simon Cocks may have had a second marriage I didn't know about. However, when looking at the Amos line I had a great shock.

The line read " Thomas AMOS, born Abt 1795. He married Mary [maiden name unknown – marriage not found]." My initial reaction was that the researcher simply hadn't been able to find out as much as I had. Abraham's parents were Thomas and Amy; likely the mistake of Amy for Mary was the cause. But then I continued reading. Children were listed:

i          Jane AMOS, born Abt 1817, baptized 6 Apr 1817 at St Augustine, East Langdon (Kent).

ii         Margaret AMOS, born Abt 1820, baptized 6 Feb 1820 at St Augustine, East Langdon (Kent).

These were not the siblings I had discovered for Abraham. Yet they were baptized in the same parish he was, making them more likely candidates than the group I had found. But if his parents were Thomas and Amy, and these girls' parents were Thomas and Mary, the likelihood was surely decreased. I had to refer to my sources.

And that was when I realized that I had no primary source for his baptism. I had only an index entry. The "England, Select Births and Christenings, 1538-1975" database at Ancestry, which cited the "England, Births and Christenings, 1538-1975" database at FamilySearch, which cited FHL microfilm 1,786,622 was my solitary source. It claimed that his baptism had taken place at East Langdon, Kent, on 7 April 1821, and that his parents were Thomas Amos and Amy. Surely in all my digging through parish registers I had verified this record? But a search through my Evernote account, where I store all my in-progress documents, proved that I had discovered only that East Langdon is not a parish included in FindMyPast's "Kent, Canterbury Archdeaconry Parish Registers Browse, 1538-1913," where I have been finding original images of so many of my family's records.

St. Augustine's Church, East Langdon, where Abraham Amos was baptized no matter who his parents were.
Nick Smith / St Augustine's church / CC BY-SA 2.0

So now, since I couldn't see them in the usual place, it was time to figure out where I could see images of East Langdon's parish registers. I could find them in none of the databases at FindMyPast, nor at Ancestry. FamilySearch had only Bishop's Transcripts and transcribed excerpts. I searched the catalog of the British National Archives and Kent Archives. A guide, provided by the Kent Archives, to the locations of parish registers in Kent indicated only Bishop's Transcripts for East Langdon. After about two days of using all my spare time to search every possible repository I could think of, I came to the conclusion that the original parish registers must have been lost. Even the databases covering East Langdon used the Bishop's Transcripts as their source.

And these databases had me worried. The one at FamilySearch, as I had discovered before, recorded Thomas and Amy as Abraham's parents. But the "Kent Births" database at FindMyPast gave his parents as Thomas and Mary. This was disheartening and inconclusive. Even though I have seen errors in Bishop's Transcripts in the past, in this case it would have to serve as my best possible source. I would have to consult it. That meant visiting my local FHC, which I would not be able to visit until Sunday afternoon. It was going to be a long, suspenseful week.

Finally Sunday arrived. When the time came, I hopped into my car to make the drive, just as my phone buzzed to remind me of a workshop I was supposed to attend, which had nothing to do with genealogy. With a heavy heart, I turned my car the opposite direction. The suspense would have to last another hour. It turned out to be an hour and a half before I was able to dash to the FHC, checking my clock and noting that I had only an hour and twenty minutes to solve this mystery. Had I spent a large quantity of time and effort climbing the wrong family tree? Would I have to add an editor's note to my recent blog post about the Shrubsoles that further research had proved that they were not actually my ancestors? Soon I would find out.

Within two minutes of entering the building, I was seated at a computer, and scrolling through images from the appropriate microfilm, searching for the beginning of the section filming East Langdon. It took a little while to find; East Langdon was quite far into the roll. But not too long after locating the right item, the 1813 baptism of a child with the surname Amos appeared. His parents, however, were named William and Ann. Perhaps he was a cousin, but that would have to wait. A few more images passed, and then came another Amos baptism. Ah, now we were on the right track; this was for Jane Amos, the supposed sister of Abraham. In both the FindMyPast and the FamilySearch databases, as well as the tree at Faded Genes, her parents were Thomas and Mary. The real question was the names of the parents on Abraham's record. The Bishop's Transcript, though--the source of most, if not all, of these of these entries--provided a surprise. Jane's parents were Thomas and Amy! That possibility had never entered my mind. I had felt certain that either Abraham was the brother of Jane and Margaret, and not the son of Thomas and Amy, or that he was the son of Thomas and Amy, and not the brother of Jane and Margaret.

Quickly, I looked up the information I had on Thomas and Amy's children, and saw that Jane and Margaret would fit nicely into that gap I had noticed between the births of Abraham and his older sister Susanna. Perhaps all my research would not have to be scrapped after all. Margaret, too, and Abraham, all were the children of Thomas and Amy according to the Bishop's Transcripts, despite databases claiming their mother's name was Mary. And thank goodness for that, because tracing a Thomas and Mary Amos through Kent would be a far more difficult task than the more unusual combination of Thomas and Amy. Plus, I can still claim to be a descendant of numerous John Shrubsoles. Now, if I could just find Thomas' parents...

52 Ancestors Week 7: Favorite Discovery

Although I could never choose one all-time favorite discovery, there is an easy candidate for my favorite discovery of the past week. It happened on Sunday, when I was sitting at the computer at my local Family History Center. Scrolling through images of original parish records, I suddenly had to laugh. Of course, being surrounded by other genealogists, there was avid inquiry into what I had found.

The parish records were for the parish of Tilmanstone, where my Cock line was residing in the early 1800s. (I learned that they lived in the nearby community of Thornton, about halfway between Tilmanstone and Knowlton.) Simon and Mary Cock were my 4great-grandparents, the parents of Isabella Cock. On 26 Jan 1820, they brought their twin sons to St. Andrew's Church for baptism. 

St. Andrew's Church in Tilmanstone
Josh Tilley [CC BY-SA (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)]

The first of these infants was christened Edward Simon. The second was christened... Simon Edward. I repeat, the twins were named Edward Simon and Simon Edward.

I cannot imagine why my ancestors would wish these inverted names on their children. If they ran out of ideas, why would they not have simply named one Simon and the other Edward? None of their other children were baptized with middle names. A previous child had been named Simon, but they could not have been superstitious about naming one child after another, deceased, child. They named a son John after his brother John's death.

If you read my earlier post on this family, you may wonder why I am so astonished by this discovery. After all, the index at FamilySearch contains two entries for that date, one for Edward Simon and one for Simon Edward. However, it seemed so much like a transcription error that I was almost wholly convinced that's what it was. There existed only the smallest grain of a doubt, and to see that grain expand into a certainty--and a certainty of such a ridiculous fact!--is intriguing, astonishing, and endlessly amusing.

Sources:

St. Andrew (Tilmanstone, Kent, England), Kent, Canterbury Archdeaconry Parish Registers Browse, 1538-1913, "Baptisms 1813-1874," record for Edward Simon Cock's 1820 baptism, p. 11, no. 85, image #12; digital images, FindMyPast (www.findmypast.com : accessed 9 Feb 2020).

St. Andrew (Tilmanstone, Kent, England), Kent, Canterbury Archdeaconry Parish Registers Browse, 1538-1913, "Baptisms 1813-1874," record for Simon Edward Cock's 1820 baptism, p. 11, no. 86, image #12; digital images, FindMyPast (www.findmypast.com : accessed 9 Feb 2020).

"England Births and Christenings, 1538-1975," database, FamilySearch (www.familysearch.org : accessed 9 Oct 2017), entry for Edward Simon Cock's 1820 baptism; citing Tilmanstone, Kent, England, index based upon data collected by the Genealogical Society of Utah, Salt Lake City; FHL microfilm 1,835,794.

"England Births and Christenings, 1538-1975," database, FamilySearch (www.familysearch.org : accessed 9 Oct 2017), entry for Simon Edward Cock's 1820 baptism; citing Tilmanstone, Kent, England, index based upon data collected by the Genealogical Society of Utah, Salt Lake City; FHL microfilm 1,835,794.

52 Ancestors Week 6: Same Name

This week's prompt is another one that has caused me difficulty, but this time because of the wealth of options. I could write about the string of Walter Underwoods in my family, beginning with my great-grandfather, or the intriguing Luxembourgish habit of naming children after the godparent of the same sex, regardless of any siblings with the same name. I could write about the complexities of dealing with multiple John Howards fathering children in the same English parish, or the large number of men in my family named Simon Cock. My most recent research, however, has been on a string of John Shrubsoles (and phonetic variations of that name).

I have previously written several times about my great-great-grandfather George Amos, who ran the Creeksea Ferry, both pub and ferry, on Wallasea Island in Essex, England. As I have written before, he had been born in Kent to Abraham Amos and Isabella Cock. Abraham Amos, as I wrote about in a previous post, was the son of Thomas Amos and Amy Dunn. Thanks to finally recollecting that I could access FindMyPast at my local Family History Center, I have been able to push Amy Dunn's line much farther into the past.

Nick Smith / An eclectic mixture of styles on Lyminge church / CC BY-SA 2.0

Amy Dunn was baptized Emara in Lyminge, Kent, on 17 Jan 1780. Her parents were John Dunn and Mary Shrubsole. The original parish records for the year 1752 in Lyminge were completely unreadable, but the Bishop's Transcripts at FamilySearch came to the rescue with the information that Mary Shrubsole had been baptized there on 5 Apr 1752, the daughter of John and Mary Shrubsole. This is the first John Shrubsole of my research. John and Mary Shrubsole had eight children that I know of, two of whom were also named John. The first was baptized on 10 Mar 1754. He evidently died within the next six years, as the next John was baptized 17 Aug 1760. The second John's surname, however, is spelled as Shrubshall in the records.

John and Mary Shrubsole were, if you weren't keeping track, my 6great-grandparents. John himself was baptized in Lyminge on 13 Sept 1722, a son of John and Elizabeth Shrubsole. This John, my 7great-grandfather, was baptized in Lyminge on 6 Nov 1692. And the names of his parents? John and Ann Shrubsol.

My research on these Shrubsoles and allied families is ongoing, and I have been delightfully astonished by how far back the line is traceable. I look forward to untangling the various Shrubsoles in the records--not just multiple Johns, but also Marys, Anns, Elizabeths, Davids, and more--enough to write a cohesive history. I am greatly looking forward to the research that will enable me to breathe a little life into the memory of these people.

Sources:

Ss Mary & Ethelburga (Lyminge, Kent, England), Kent, Canterbury Archdeaconry Parish Registers Browse, 1538-1913, "Baptisms & Burials 1767-1812," record for Emara Dunn's 1780 baptism, p. 23; digital images, FindMyPast (www.findmypast.com : accessed 19 May 2019).

St Mary and St Ethelburga (Lyminge, Kent, England), Bishop's transcripts for Lyminge, 1563-1852, "Baptisms, marriages and burials, 1563-1812 (missing: 1565/6-1567/8, 1572/3-1575/6, 1579/80-1582/3, 1584/5, 1585/6, 1587/8-1592/3, 1596/7-1602/3, 1604/5-1606/7, 1608/9-1611/2, 1613/4, 1621/2, 1627/8, 1640/1-1661/2, 1708/9, 1711/2. "1564/5 return probably not for Lyminge. Does not relate to register or names.)," record for Mary Shrubsole's 1752 baptism, image #397; digital images, Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, FamilySearch (www.familysearch.org : accessed 30 Dec 2019).

Ss Mary & Ethelburga (Lyminge, Kent, England), Kent, Canterbury Archdeaconry Parish Registers Browse, 1538-1913, "Baptisms & Burials 1678-1766," record for John Shrubsole's 1754 baptism, image #14; digital images, FindMyPast (www.findmypast.com : accessed 19 Jan 2020).

Ss Mary & Ethelburga (Lyminge, Kent, England), Kent, Canterbury Archdeaconry Parish Registers Browse, 1538-1913, "Baptisms & Burials 1678-1766," record for John Shrubshall's 1760 baptism, image #16; digital images, FindMyPast (www.findmypast.com : accessed 19 Jan 2020).

Ss Mary & Ethelburga (Lyminge, Kent, England), Kent, Canterbury Archdeaconry Parish Registers Browse, 1538-1913, "Baptisms & Burials 1678-1766," record for John Thrubshal's 1722 baptism, image #9; digital images, FindMyPast (www.findmypast.com : accessed 26 Jan 2020).

Ss Mary & Ethelburga (Lyminge, Kent, England), Kent, Canterbury Archdeaconry Parish Registers Browse, 1538-1913, "Baptisms & Burials 1678-1766," record for John Shrubsol's 1692 baptism, image #5; digital images, FindMyPast (www.findmypast.com : accessed 26 Jan 2020).

52 Ancestors Week 5: So Far Away

This prompt has proven the most difficult for me thus far this year, although "So Far Away" should seem an easy prompt for an American genealogist, with the necessity of immigration in one's history. However, I have struggled to think of someone in my tree who (a) was "so far away" from his/her family, home, or something else, (b) I had enough information to actually write about, and (c) I haven't already written about. I'm not going to write about the Underwoods' 1903 trip to America; it's already been covered in Aunt Elsie's typescript, and I currently have nothing to add. Likewise, I've already written about John and Mary Craig's eventful trip on the Mauretania. Harry Stroesser made a long journey from Luxembourg to Iowa, but I have yet to discover his name in the ship manifests.

All week I have pondered a subject for this post (with the Carole King song running through my head), and, now that the week is nearly over, one has finally come to me. The research is so fresh that it should have been obvious! Last Sunday I visited my local Family History Center and used their portal to access to Newspapers.com. Perhaps it slipped my mind because it was not my intended research topic, but a quick dipping of my toe before I moved on to my main plan.

In my speedy foray into the world of newpapers, I stumbled across several articles about the Brosius boys away in France during WWI. The earliest of these is dated 18 Oct 1917, before Ormond Brosius had left for Europe:

Likes Army Life.
Ormond Brosius, Sergeant in Artillery stationed at Fort Bliss, Texas, writes his parents, Mr. and Mrs. John Brosius, that army life suits him and that his already dark skin is now so thoroughly tanned it is difficult to distinguis him from the Mexicans. Ormond volunteered in the regular army last April in company with Frank Ward and Bert Sherrod and they were in San Francisco until June when Ormond and Frank were transferred to Fort Bliss.

This article enabled me to add a few more details to my knowledge of Ormond's movements during the war. It also lines up to a certain extent with Ormond's own account of his enlistment:

There was three of us. When war was declared there was three of us... Frank Keller and myself and Bert Sheridan. We got on the Missouri-Pacific and went up to Wichita to enlist. Well, they told their right age. I was 16, see, and they was 18. So we got in this line... Ol’ Bert says, “I’m 18.” This old boy wrote it down. “Go on.” And Frank Keller was a-next... When they come to me, I told the truth. I said, “16.” And he said, “Young man, you come back in a couple of years.” So, the next morning I got right in this line, and when I got there I told him, “18.” “Go right ahead.” See? That’s how that happened. See. Boy, it pays to be a liar sometimes.

The first names are identical, even if the last names are not quite the same. Sheridan is quite similar to Sherrod, though. I also enjoyed the reference in the article to Ormond's dark skin. I have come across similar references on his mother's (Wade) line, and it is interesting to see how the trait is passed down the generations.

The next article helps to clarify the confusion between the names "Frank Ward" and "Frank Keller."

Mrs. E. A. Keller this week received a card announcing the safe arrival in France of her son, Frank Ward, who was at a cantonment in Texas. Ormond Brosius was with the same detachment.

It seems that Frank and his mother had different last names, and that Ormond was simply giving them the same surname. The date of arrival in France makes sense, given that the company had departed from Hoboken aboard the Aeolus on 23 Apr 1918. The 16 May 1918 printing of this note allows for the time for the troops to arrive in France, Frank to write the card, and the card to travel back across the ocean and then across land to Kansas.

It seems it took a little bit longer for Ormond to send news to his parents, but when he did it was not just a card but a whole letter.

Ormond Brosius writes his parents Mr. and Mrs. John Brosius of this city from somewhere in France, a cheerful letter telling of his safe arrival, good health and some of the quaint customs of the people of that land, which are a source of wonder and amusement to our soldier boys. He was enthusiastic over the country and well satisfied to be there under his own flag. Ormond enlisted early in the activities.

I can only wish the newspaper had printed the entire letter, as it did with one of his half-brother Harry's, which I transcribed in his Military Monday post and will not repeat here.

Speaking of Harry, the next clipping finally mentions him. Admittedly, I was more interested in finding articles regarding Ormond, in whose cabin I spent a wonderful vacation, than in Harry. When I have more time to dedicate to this newspaper research I will do a more thorough job.

John Brosius and wife are among the few Sedan parents who have received no letters from France since the armistice. Ormond is with the 18th Field Artillery and Harry with a Gas Regiment.

This clipping is dated 26 Dec 1918, the day after Christmas. The family must have spent an anxious Christmas waiting to find out if two of their members had survived to the armistice. It would have been the second anxious Christmas, the previous year still during the fighting.

They finally heard from their boys the next month.

Mr. and Mrs. John Brosius received word from their sons, Harry and Ormond Tuesday, the first they had received since the big fight ended and were greatly relieved to know that the boys are all right. Both are with the armies of occupation.

It surprised me that none of these clippings mentioned Lee, the third brother in the service. I don't believe that he ever went overseas, but some of these articles were about army life before prior to shipping out. Perhaps this lack of Lee has more to do with my search terms during my limited research time than anything else. When I return to this line of research, I will specifically seek information on Lee.

Sources and Citations:

"Likes Army Life," Sedan Times-Star, 18 Oct 1917, p. 7, col. 2; digital images, Newspapers.com (www.newspapers.com : accessed 26 Jan 2020), World Collection.

Ormond Brosius, Lowell Brosius (Portland, Oregon), recorded conversation, Aug 1979; audio cassette privately held by Amber Brosius.

"General News," Sedan Times-Star, 16 May 1918, p. 8, col. 3; digital images, Newspapers.com (www.newspapers.com : accessed 26 Jan 2020), World Collection.

"U.S., Army Transport Service, Passenger Lists, 1910-1939," online images, Ancestry (www.ancestry.com : accessed 9 Jun 2018), manifest, Aeolus, 23 Apr 1918, entry no. 40, for Ormond J. Brosius, service no. 1,042,684.

"General News," Sedan Times-Star, 20 June 1918, p. 10, col. 2; digital images, Newspapers.com (www.newspapers.com : accessed 26 Jan 2020), World Collection.

"General News," Sedan Times-Star, 26 Dec 1918, p. 2, col. 5; digital images, Newspapers.com (www.newspapers.com : accessed 26 Jan 2020), World Collection.

"General News," Sedan Times-Star, 30 Jan 1919, p. 5, col. 3; digital images, Newspapers.com (www.newspapers.com : accessed 26 Jan 2020), World Collection.

52 Ancestor Week 4: Close to Home

Lowell Brosius, my Grandpa Red's brother, was born in Sedan, Kansas 21 Mar 1913. When his father died in 1920, he moved with his mother and the younger of the Brosius kids (he was the second youngest of them all) to the Pacific Northwest. He quit school at about age 13 and began working. He worked a number of different kinds of jobs throughout his life, along with a stint as an Army MP in Europe during WWII. Among his jobs, he worked as a logger, a gold miner, and a glazier. He was married once, but the marriage didn't last.

During my earliest years, he was renting the back room of a house in Portland, Oregon. There was a backyard with a tree, and Lowell used to feed the squirrels and scrub jays. They became so tame that the squirrels would climb on him and one of the jays would snatch a peanut from his open mouth. I don't actually remember that, but I have seen photos.

Lowell standing outside his pink trailer, 1988

When I was just a little bit older, he moved into a trailer court. As a child, I was amused that his trailer was pink. He lived there for many years, and I can easily conjure up the layout of his main room. The couch was to the right of the front door, parallel with the wall. Directly across from the door was his TV, which was always tuned to a football game, and which was topped by a gold-colored mantel clock shaped like a naked woman. To the left was his kitchen table and a chair or two. Stacked up behind the couch and TV, nearly to the ceiling, were dozens and dozens of old cigarette cartons--mostly Pall Mall, a few Lucky Strike, and one or two other brands--full of books by Louis Lamour. When we visited, we would be seated on the couch while Lowell sat across from us in a chair at the kitchen table. There was always a red plastic cup on the table, and every so often Lowell would spit into it. I made the mistake of looking inside it once, and seeing the brownish liquid that resulted from his habit of chewing snus.

At some point when I was in about seventh or eighth grade, Lowell could no longer drive. Dad would visit him at least once a week to offer to take him shopping, and I never turned down the chance to come along. Sometimes Lowell would take us up on the offer of driving him to the grocery store, and I can still visualize him in his plaid flannel shirt and jeans, leaning on the cart as he slowly walked up the aisles. More often, though, Lowell wasn't in need of groceries, and we would sit on his couch and visit with him. Budding genealogist that I was, I asked many questions about his family and childhood, and a couple of times brought my tape recorder along. Other times he and Dad would discuss current events and I would let my eyes wander over his belongings, especially those boxes of books.

Whenever it was time for us to leave, we would get into the car and wave goodbye as we drove away. Lowell would stand in his open doorway and salute us as we left. It wasn't a military salute, but rather a gesture of two fingers beginning at the temple and extending toward us, then remaining in place until our car was turning the corner. It's a rather simple, ordinary gesture, but as a child it puzzled me. Everyone else I knew just waved. To this day, every time I picture Lowell in my mind, the first image that comes to mind is of him standing on the top step of his pink trailer holding his hand in that casual salute.

Once I was in sophomore or junior year of high school, Lowell needed more care. He was still independent, but it was no longer advisable for him to live alone. So he moved in with us. We had a daylight basement, carpeted and furnished, so we set that up for him as his own apartment. He generally prepared and ate his own meals, but it became our habit to go down and offer him a bowl of ice cream every night. I know he enjoyed that, because sometimes we would come back from a weekend out of town and there were fork marks in the ice cream container where he had come upstairs and helped himself. I always found it strange that he scooped ice cream with a fork, but it was endearing too.

He kept a large supply of peanuts for the squirrels and scrub jays, and would spend time in the back yard feeding them. They never got quite as tame as the ones at his old back-room apartment, but an occasional squirrel did wander into the house demanding peanuts.

Lowell died there in our basement, sitting on Grandpa Red's big leather easy chair. Mom found him that morning when she went downstairs to do laundry. I was at school, and was called to the office to get the news. That was a rough day.

As a child, and well into my teen years, I always had an overactive imagination. I was afraid to go downstairs if the lights were out, and I didn't like to be the last one to go up the stairs, because of course there was a (imaginary) skeleton who resided under the staircase and would emerge and dance at the bottom of the stairs as I ascended. Looking back, I don't know how exactly that was threatening, but somehow it was. One would think that knowing someone had actually died down there would make the basement even scarier, but the opposite turned out to be true. The very next time I went down there, it felt as if Lowell's presence were protecting me. The skeleton under the stairs vanished, as did whatever other monsters my imagination had provided. I have never felt frightened in that basement since.

52 Ancestors Week 3: Long Line

Ever since I was a child and first saw one in action, I have harbored a secret desire to become a blacksmith. It wasn't until decades later that I discovered that my desire may be quite natural; I come from a long line of blacksmiths. Perhaps it is in my blood.

"medieval blacksmith making a new hammer" by Hans Splinter
Attribution-NoDerivs 2.0 Generic (CC BY-ND 2.0)

The blacksmiths are on my Stroesser line. The first known one, my 4great-grandfather, Nicolas Strösser, was born in Fischbach, Mersch, Luxembourg on 7 Apr 1753. Unfortunately, the parochial records of that time do not indicate professions, so I cannot comment on his father's occupation, but by the time that Nicolas died on 1 Dec 1815 in Beringen, Mersch, Luxembourg, civil registration had been implemented and occupations were recorded. Nicolas was a "hufschmidt," a blacksmith or farrier. A farrier, of course, is a type of blacksmith that specializes in horseshoes and caring for horses' hooves.

Nicolas passed on his profession to at least some, if not all, of his sons. I have unsourced notes in my database that his sons Nicolas and Adam were farriers, and sources for his sons Pierre and Theodore also being farriers. Pierre, who was my 3great-grandfather, was born in Beringen on 5 Mar 1796. In the 1843 census he is recorded as a "maréchal ferrant," the French term for farrier. He is also recorded as a "hufschmiedt" on his death certificate. Theodore was married twice, and the civil marriage certificate for his second marriage in 1831 gives his occupation as "hufschmit."

In my direct line, the third generation was Peter's son Peter, my 2great-grandfather. He was born in Ettelbrück, Diekirch, Luxembourg on 3 June 1834. He seems to have taken the family business in a slightly different direction. On his child Michel's 1873 birth certificate he is recorded as an "eisenhändeler," or ironmonger. An ironmonger runs what we (in the U.S.) would term a hardware store. He may or may not have manufactured his own goods. Given his family history, I rather suspect that he did manufacture them. Or perhaps his brothers did. His brother Jacques, his brother Michael, and his brother Dominique were all recorded as hufschmieds on their marriage records, and they were all residing in the municipality of Wahl. 

Sources:

"Luxembourg, registres paroissiaux, 1601-1948," images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/pal:/MM9.3.1/TH-1951-32461-2121-64?cc=2037955&wc=STH8-3Y2:1500941901,1501121838 : accessed 15 February 2015), Fischbach (Mersch) > Baptêmes 1742-1770, mariages 1737-1770, sépultures 1738-1770 > image 56 of 68; paroisses, Luxembourg [parishes, Luxembourg].

Luxembourg Civil Registration, 1793-1923. Index and Images FamilySearch.[1]: 2009. Municipality: Beringen. "Mariages 1846-1890--PETTINGEN: Décès 1796-1823--Décès 1796-1851." Image #866. (death record for Nicolas STROESSER, died 20 Dec 1815.) Accessed 9 Dec 2010.

Paroisse de Mersch (Mersch, Mersch, Luxembourg), Luxembourg Church Records, 1601-1948, "Baptêmes 1791-1796," Petrus Streser baptismal record, image #62 of 73 (1796); digital images, Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, FamilySearch (www.familysearch.org : accessed 8 Mar 2015).

1843 census of Luxembourg, Ettelbrück, Ettelbrück, image #570, household of Pierre Stroesser; digital images, Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, "Luxembourg, Census Records, 1843-1900," FamilySearch (www.familysearch.org : accessed 18 Oct 2014); citing Archives de l'Etat.

Wahl, Redange, Luxembourg, death certificate no. 10 (1860), Peter Strösser; digital image #341 of 682, Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, "Décès 1829-1890," FamilySearch (www.familysearch.org : accessed 22 Nov 2014).

"Luxembourg, Registres d'état civil, 1796-1941," database with images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:S3HT-6GVC-TF?cc=1709358&wc=9RYQ-L29%3A130076401%2C130674101 : 17 July 2014), Mersch > Naissances 1870-1890 Mariages 1796-1823, 1796-1847 > image 1267 of 1495; Archives nationales de Luxembourg (National Archives), Luxembourg.

Ettelbrück, Diekirch, Luxembourg, birth certificate no. 61 (1834), Peter Stroesser; digital image #1295 of 1477, Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, "Naissances 1797-1804 Naissances, mariages, décès 1804-1805 Naissances 1805-1838," FamilySearch (www.familysearch.org : accessed 19 Oct 2014).

Wahl, Redange, Luxembourg, birth certificate no. 32 (1873), Michel Stroesser; digital image #99, Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, "Naissances 1867-1890-- RINDSCHLEIDEN: Mariages 1796-1797, 1800-1804, 1805-1823 -- WAHL: Mariages 1796-1803, 1805-1890 -.," FamilySearch (www.familysearch.org : accessed 30 May 2010).

"Luxembourg, Registres d'état civil, 1796-1941," database with images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:S3HY-6G2W-D25?cc=1709358&wc=9RYZ-C68%3A130534201%2C130651301 : 17 July 2014), Wahl > Naissances 1867-1890 Mariages 1796-1797, 1800-1804, 1805-1823, 1796-1803, 1805-1890 Décès 1797-1803, 1805-1828 > image 1042 of 1475; Archives nationales de Luxembourg (National Archives), Luxembourg. Jacques Stroesser's marriage certificate.

"Luxembourg, Registres d'état civil, 1796-1941," database with images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:S3HY-6G2W-N2V?cc=1709358&wc=9RYZ-C68%3A130534201%2C130651301 : 17 July 2014), Wahl > Naissances 1867-1890 Mariages 1796-1797, 1800-1804, 1805-1823, 1796-1803, 1805-1890 Décès 1797-1803, 1805-1828 > image 1095 of 1475; Archives nationales de Luxembourg (National Archives), Luxembourg. Michael Stroesser's marriage certificate.

"Luxembourg, Registres d'état civil, 1796-1941," database with images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:S3HY-6G2W-FKT?cc=1709358&wc=9RYZ-C68%3A130534201%2C130651301 : 17 July 2014), Wahl > Naissances 1867-1890 Mariages 1796-1797, 1800-1804, 1805-1823, 1796-1803, 1805-1890 Décès 1797-1803, 1805-1828 > image 1144 of 1475; Archives nationales de Luxembourg (National Archives), Luxembourg. Dominique Stroesser's marriage certificate.

52 Ancestors Week 2: Favorite Photo

The prompt for Week 2 of the 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks challenge this year is "Favorite Photo." 

My first reaction when I saw that this week's prompt was "Favorite Photo," was an inward groan and the question of how I could pick just one. A moment later, an image came to mind, of my Grandma Rose as a child, and the recollection that the image had an interesting story with it. It may not be my favorite photo of all time, but it is my favorite photo of Grandma Rose as a child.

The photo shows Grandma staring at the viewer, her round face framed by a short, blunt bob cut with thick bangs. She is wearing a dress with a wide white collar and a large dark bow. The most striking element of the picture is the lighting. Much of the background is in deep shadow, and Grandma's chest is slashed by strips of light and dark, like sun shining through a blind.

All through their lives, my mom and her siblings heard the story that Grandma was supposed to have been Spanky in the Our Gang (Little Rascals) films, but she lost the job because the studio found out that she was a girl and they wanted a boy. It seems like a strange story because she lived in Omaha, Nebraska, far from Hollywood studios, but it turned out to have a kernel of truth.

I found it quite by accident. Stroesser, Grandma's maiden name, is fortunately pretty uncommon. It is possible to trace a genealogical relationship between most Stroessers in North America. Therefore, in newspaper research, I can narrow the search down to Omaha newspapers and use just "Stroesser" as the search term, and almost every result will have something to do with Grandma's family.

One day I was combing through the results of such a search and stumbled upon an article entitled "More Entries in Davey Lee Resemblance Contest." Davey Lee was a child actor of the era, perhaps most recognizable today as Sonny Boy of the eponymous Al Jolson song. He played the character in two films, The Singing Fool and Sonny Boy. The lookalike contest was being put on by the Omaha World-Herald, with grand prizes of $50, and every participant invited to attend a theater party with the chance of meeting Davey Lee himself.

 

And there, in the top row of entries, was a trimmed down version of that interesting photo of Grandma Rose. It was her entry into the Davey Lee resemblance contest! This explained that strange story about Spanky of the Little Rascals. Although Davey Lee wasn't Spanky, he was another child star of the era. Grandma was five years old at the time, and no doubt her recollection of events was colored by later assumptions and suppositions. Perhaps she thought at the time that winning the contest would make her a movie star. And perhaps someone in her family commented that she didn't win because she was a girl. The story could easily have grown from there.

Source:

"More Entries in Davey Lee Resemblance Contest," Omaha World Herald, 4 Dec 1929, p. 9; digital images, America's GenealogyBank (www.genealogybank.com : accessed 12 July 2014), Historical Newspapers.

52 Ancestors Week 1: You

Last year I began the 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks challenge a little late in the year and tried to catch up. After a few weeks I was only falling farther behind, and soon gave up. This year, in the spirit of New Year's resolutions, I am starting fresh. The theme for this week is "You." Since I can't find a way to make this post about all of you who may be reading, I am taking the "You" to mean me. 

My great-uncle Ormond Brosius and his girlfriend Billie Gardner were visiting Oregon from their home in Wyoming. All the Oregon Brosiuses took advantage of this opportunity to have a family reunion. It wasn't a complete family reunion as one might envision, with all the descendants of a particular couple, but it was what they could manage in the area. There were Ormond and Billie, Ormond's brother Lowell Brosius, their brother Red and his family, their sister Susie and her kids, and their nephew Maurice (pronounced Morris) and his wife Mary. This was to be the largest reunion of the Oregon branches of Brosiuses ever held. 

One of the group shots taken during the reunion. None of the shots show all of the participants, but this one is the best grouping in terms of composition. From left to right: Eddie Renas (Susie's son), Lowell Brosius, Les Hogan (Susie's daughter's husband), Aileen Brosius (Red's wife), Ormond Brosius, Mary Brosius, and Maurice Brosius.

The reunion lasted a few days. There was much chatting, as would be expected, and my very pregnant mother had the foresight to record a portion of it to cassette. (This cassette has been cited and quoted in a number of previous posts.) There were also activities such as sightseeing, fishing, and shopping. 

My mom, as I mentioned, was very pregnant at the time. With me. So I was there, attending my first family reunion, in utero. And apparently I was anxious to attend it in person. The story goes that Billie took my parents to the Portland Saturday Market, which was an event worth seeing back then. I remember from my younger days acres of booths selling well-made crafts and foods. It took over the streets of Old Town and spilled into the historic buildings and then back out onto streets on the other side. It would take hours to go through, and all the while you would be hearing the sounds of street musicians and smelling the scents of unfamiliar cuisines. Today's Saturday Market is barely a shadow of its former self, and depresses me because I remember its glory days. Now it takes up only a couple blocks, and there is very little shopping available in those historic buildings. There is still the sound of street musicians, though, and the fragrances of world cuisines.

It was to the Saturday Market of Portland's past that my parents and Billie went, with its acres and acres of booths. And, as my mom says, "Billie walked that baby right out of me." I was born the next day while various participants in the reunion went fishing on the coast. I was literally born during a family reunion.