Week 13, #52Ancestors - [Don't] Light a Candle

 

From left to right: Ed Fischer, Lois Fischer holding Barbara Jane Fischer, Lena Pearson, and Jerry Pearson

When I saw the prompt for this week's #52Ancestors challenge, I must admit my mind did not long dwell on the obvious idea of writing a post on a dearly departed relative.  Almost immediately, it took a darker turn.  Although I have no reason to believe that the story of the fire I am about to relate is due to someone lighting a candle, it seemed too good an opportunity to pass up.  In the end, no people - family or otherwise - were seriously harmed in the fire, so I feel safe in cheekily offering "[Don't] Light a Candle" as this week's post.

In the early morning of November 23, 1937, 12 people were forced to evacuate a 4-apartment building.  The fire started in the basement and initially woke the occupants of a downstairs apartment.  The 2 parents, their daughters, and their daughters' two children escaped in their nightclothes.  Some of them managed to find shoes in the darkness, and some of them were barefoot.  By the time they became aware of the blaze, it had already reached the building's fuse box.  A woman in an upstairs apartment was awakened by the sound of coughing.  She escaped to her porch, called for help, and was eventually rescued by firefighters.  

The remaining five occupants of the building were my relatives.  My grandfather's half-sister, Lois, was recovering from the birth of her daughter, Barbara Jane.  Her mother (my great grandmother, Lena) was visiting.  Great Grandma Lena was accompanied by my grandfather, Jerry, who was three years old at the time.  They eventually smelled the smoke and heard the commotion and came up with a plan to evacuate. As Lois had not left her bed since giving birth, she was carried down the stairs by her husband, Ed Fischer.   Great Grandma Lena carried baby Barbara in her arms and Grandpa Jerry on her back.  What a woman!

Shortly after my grandfather passed, I received a tote of family pictures and newspaper clippings.  The above photo and the accompanying article were among them.

#52Ancestors #Week12 - Memberships

Remembering my Grandpa Clinton Lowe usually brings a big smile to my face.  He enjoyed playing the piano and the guitar (he joined a group of performing senior citizens in his later years), and his crushing hugs and gruff "You Know What?" meant "I love you!"  

I don't know a great deal about his foundational years beyond that his family was also musical and that it was a hard time for his parents, during the Depression, although Grandpa's dad had a good job with the railroad.  I am delighted to know, however, how Grandpa met Grandma!  

At some point during high school, Grandpa joined the Order of deMolay, a fraternal order focused on the training up of boys/young men to be upstanding citizens. The group was formed in 1919 in Kansas City, so in 1930's Sioux City, Iowa, I have to guess that it may have been quite popular.  Noted members of this group include Walt Disney and John Steinbeck. As part of his activities with this group, he made the acquaintance of one David Winkel, about a year older than himself.  I'm not sure how long they may have known each other or what activities they enjoyed as members (Grandpa was never much of an outdoorsman in my experience, except for his passion for golf), but Dave invited Clint to come home to supper with him at one point, and when they arrived at the Winkel home, Clint met Dave's pretty little sister, Margaret.  And the rest, as they say, is history. They married at 18.

I have Grandpa's membership card from 1937, which was a few years after they married, and the group is open to young men until they are 21.  I have no idea if he stayed on as a mentor, but as World War II was getting started shortly thereafter, I think he must not have. I've not heard of this organization otherwise, although a quick Google search indicates it is still active.

An interesting tidbit about Grandpa that has led me to wonder who else in my family belonged to fraternal organizations or other groups?

#52 Ancestors, Week 12: Memberships

Kristian (Christian) Nilsson Wedberg is my great great grandfather, and he is the reason why I am familiar with Woodmen of the World.

I first encountered mention of the organization when I was looking at Kristian’s headstone on Find-a-Grave. I remember asking my mother if she knew what it meant.  She didn’t, but she looked quite mortified at the idea that he was somehow part of some secret society.  

Ultimately, I found out that Woodmen of the World wasn’t anything sinister.  It is simply a fraternal society, founded in 1890 in Nebraska, that practiced philanthropy and spearheaded community outreach projects. As with many other fraternal societies from this time, it offered private life insurance as a benefit of its membership. Also, until the 1920’s, Woodmen of the World provided each member with a tombstone.  Based on the cost of modern tombstones, I imagine this had to be a nice perk of membership. Some of the provided headstones were quite ornate as evidenced by the picture below (Wikipedia).

In later research of a different (but similarly Scandinavian) line, I discovered a newspaper article that discussed the wedding of my great great grandparents. Hugo Robertson and Signe (Johnson) Robertson were apparently members of something called The Independent Order of the Svithiod. Like Kristian, Hugo and Signe were in my mother’s direct line, so I questioned her again, and again, I was aware of a slight mortification.  She apologetically explained that my grandfather was a member in good standing with a society whose name she could no longer remember.

At any rate, being a part of the Svithiod wasn’t any more embarrassing than being attached to Woodmen of the World.  My great great grandparents were simply part of a community of Scandinavians devoted to preserving Scandinavian culture, heritage, and education. For a bit more information on this order, visit their website: https://www.svithiod.org.

I’m sure there are some questionable memberships out there, but until you’ve done some research, don’t assume they are anything of which you should be ashamed!

#52Ancestors #Week11 Lucky!

 Getting Lucky, Genealogy Style! In 1979, I was 10 years old and still a few years away from kindling a real passion for my family history. I remember Christmas at my grandparents' house, and I remember the feeling (and perhaps conversation) from some of the adults about my great-grandparents coming for the festivities and how they wouldn't be around forever. I don't have any idea who had the thought first, but I was visiting on the floor near my great grand dad (Gramps) while he noted down the names of his parents for his children and grandchildren. He was 76, and his handwriting was probably never exceptional, but he had written the names of his parents and his siblings, especially his eldest brother. I fel very fortunate, as most of my family has expressed minimal interest in my endeavors, but someone did this tremendous thing! 

Interestingly, one of the pieces of information that helped me so significantly on my search is still a mystery. Gramps recorded his mother as Florence Lee Farrell, her real name has consistently been in every record "Florence Lee Hughes." While there were indeed some Farrells in the area, I've never found a connection between Florence's known mother and father, or indeed her known maternal grandparents, to anyone named Farrell.

Still, information given by the son of the people in question has been invaluable and led me fairly early on to some excellent documents and correct locations (Gramps included his birth location, easily as invaluable for a man who grew up in the Mississippi/Ohio River Valley on the border of 5 states). A huge shout out to Gramps, Grandma and numerous aunts and uncles for a bit of assistive LUCK!

52 Ancestors, Week 11 - Nils Wedberg "Just My Luck"

*** Disclaimer: This #52Ancestors post is not directly related to the usual content of this blog.  Ancestors mentioned are not from the Pearson/Echols/Hughes/Fields/Staton group of surnames.

Several posts on this blog mention that Heather and I have an inordinate amount of relatives who lost limbs in railroad accidents.  Horace, the initial inspiration for this blog, was quite unlucky to lose both of his legs when he was only a boy.  Here's the story of a man who lost the same leg twice!

Nils/Nels Magnus Wedberg was my great grandma Lena's brother.  Like Horace, Nils found himself on the wrong side of a train - that would be the underside - when he was quite young.  I don't have the details of the accident, but needless to say, he was lucky to survive being run over by a train - especially in the early 1900s!  Unlike Horace, Nils lost only one leg.  Also unlike Horace, who lost both legs at the hips, Nils was able to get a prosthetic that allowed him a normal range of mobility. In spite of what had to be a terrifying experience, Nils did not avoid the railroad - quite the opposite.

In 1912, Nils was in his late teens and working as a crane operator at the Standard Steel Car Works in Hammond, Indiana.  On the morning of December 7th, as he was stepping into his crane, another crane - passing too closely - snagged his artificial leg.  Yanked from his crane, Nils narrowly escaped being crushed; his artificial leg was not so lucky. That evening, Munster's The Times ran the following story:

Man escapes death but loses leg.  Man escapes death but loses replacement of the initially lost leg.  I'm not sure you can get much luckier than that.

#52Ancestors #Week10 Translation

 I don’t know if one would (or should) call this fortunate, but nearly all of my ancestors are from English-speaking countries, so I have very little experience with having to translate anything, although as most genealogists, frequently and continuously struggle with interpretation, so that’s the trail I’m going to embrace from this week’s prompt, as tenuous as the connection may be.

Unreadable handwriting, phonetic recording of names, relationships recorded in old wills that make NO sense, and more. Most recently I obtained a copy of a Civil War pension that honestly appears to not be the person I’m looking for, but it did provide a location mystery. My esteemed cousin and I have never lived in Pulaski County, but we’ve both visited and poured over several different versions of the area maps: modern, historical, and the “sundown town” maps. Friendship, Pulaski, Illinois is not ever listed, nor have we found mention of it in any newspaper clippings or other records such as the thorough cemetery listings of this county.

I called the assessor's office in Mound City and obtained a promise of an inquiry and a call back.  Nothing.  After about 2 weeks, I called back and spoke to the same person, who apologized and promised he’d call back with info. Nothing, again. Cousin and I have a resource that we generally don't employ as a first resort, as that person is an elder local, but quite acerbic in her responses, regardless of the inquiry. With some careful consideration, I shot off an email and waited. 

As it turns out, I not only received a response chock-full of information about Friendship, I also received the unsurprising dressing-down of the county assessor's knowledge.  Friendship, Illinois was the name of a small community and school (and one would imagine a cross-roads store) described in the email as "half-way between Levings and Ullin." There is also a listing of 8th grade graduates of the Friendship school from 1917 - 1953. I'd hoped for family to be included in the earlier years of this listing but no joy.

This particular endeavor did not result in any real help to my family, for now. But it did put in place a location I may later need to reference. Never, never give up, as they say.

52Ancestors - Week 10: Translation

I've wracked my brains about this particular prompt for the better part of a week and have come to the conclusion that this will just be a post written for the sake of maintaining my blogging streak. 😂

I have both Swedish and Italian ancestry, and I will say this concerning translation.  The internet is a Godsend.  There are so many tools now available to help you translate that pesky marriage document or will.  If you have no other refuge, Google Translate will at least give you a passable idea of what you are reading (provided you can properly transcribe the writing - that's a whole other issue).  If you regularly use Facebook, there are some fantastic genealogy groups out there that are eager to assist you with your genealogical woes.  My current favorite is the Swedish American Genealogy group.  I firmly believe that if you give them enough information, they can find anything you happen to be looking for (in Swedish, of course), and then they will happily translate the information for you.

Transcription - translation's kissing cousin, if you will - is often a tougher nut to crack.  Even records that are in English can be unintelligible if the person recording them writes in any teacher's least favorite style - chicken scratch.  One family record, in particular, comes to mind...

You might remember Nettie Pearson of the thousand-and-one marriages. Her last (I think) marriage was to a man by the last name of Johnson.  What his first name was is anyone's guess.  Here are Nettie and Mr. Johnson as recorded in the 1940 census.

The name has been transcribed as Nera Johnson, but there is no Johnson by that name anywhere in the area in the years preceding this census, nor are there any after.  The only thing I am certain of is that his name is not Nera...but I have no idea what it is.  If anyone reading this has any suggestions/interpretations/transcriptions, I would be happy to entertain them.  In the meantime, Mr. Johnson of the Berrien County, Michigan, 1940 census will be...lost in translation.  😉