52 Ancestors Challenge Week 52: "Looking Ahead" - Will I do this Challenge Again?

This weekly blogging challenge was an excellent exercise. I am glad I did it. It increased my readership, made me examine some records more closely, and helped me to discover more details about the history my ancestors lived through.

Honestly it was a big time commitment though, and I don't know if I will have the stamina to accomplish it every week for the coming year - I mean, I do have a full-time job and several part-time gigs. A girl has to sleep sometime. 

I would like to commit to continuing to write more, though. That is, after all, why I started a blog in the first place. Typically I just write when a random discovery is made AND if I have the time to write. Those two factors don't often intersect and it does take time to just make discoveries. Prior to accepting this challenge my posts were infrequent, at best. Thus, I'd like to set some attainable goal. 

So, I am committing to doing this challenge again in 2023 but as a monthly activity, making additional entries when and if time permits or discoveries arise. 

Thank you, Amy Crow Johnson for the inspiration.

I wish you all a 2023 riddled with family history dirt.

52 Ancestors Challenge Week 51: "Perseverance" - Great-great Grandma Annette Hinch-Henry Survives Strife and Helped Others to do the Same

The word "perseverance" brings to mind my great-great grandmother, Annette "Anne" Hinch-Henry (February 22, 1868 - March 2, 1952). In fact, I feel like Anne's life would make for a good movie and I know exactly who I would have play her... Can you guess who?

...Julia Roberts! I think she looks a lot like her. I didn't get those genes.

Anne was born in Barnamelia, by Knockanna, Co. Wicklow, Ireland in 1868. As far as I can tell her mother, Jane Kavanaugh-Hinch died in about 1875 leaving 6 children ranging in age from about 10 to 2. I have not been able to find a death record for Jane in any Irish registers. In fact, many of the details I have about the Hinch family are vague at best. 

For instance, I don't know when Anne came to the U.S. from Ireland. Various census records note her arrival in 1886, 1887, and possibly 1890. I did find a record for a Jas Hinch or Hench arriving on June 6, 1885 aboard the H.M.S. City of Chester with 2 daughters, Anne 22 and Sarah age 20. Now her father James Hinch did have 2 daughters, Anne and her younger sister, Sarah, but the ages are off a bit, not that that ever matters. I do think that 1885 arrival date is correct though. It is said she came to NY from Ireland with her widowed father after the death of her younger brother; that could be them. As if the loss of her mother and a younger sibling weren't enough tragedy, her father James dies in the City of New York on January 29, 1886, not long after their arrival in the U.S. I can only assume that her paternal uncle, Charles Hinch, assumed a role of father figure to Anne.

Nine years later, though, her uncle Charles Hinch dies on January 24, 1895. That same year Anne married to Victor Henry on June 18, 1895, maybe with the hope of finally having some security and a family of her own. The following year she gives birth to their first child, my great grandfather, Charles Aloysius Henry. The couple has six children in all. Only 3 of which survive to adulthood. The 10 years between the birth of her first child and the death of her 6th child, again, seem to me wrought with tragedy:

• March 26, 1896 - Child #1, Charles Aloysius Henry is born
• December 8, 1897 - Child #2, Mary Anne Henry is born
• April 6, 1899 - Mary Anne dies before her 2nd birthday
• November 14, 1899 - Child #3, Jane Veronica Henry is born
• July 10, 1902 - Child #4, Victory Henry is born
• June 24, 1904 - Child #5, James Henry is born
• July 16, 1905 - James dies shortly after his first birthday.
• February 7, 1906 - Child #6, Robert Henry is born
• February 10, 1906 - Robert only lives 3 days.

Oh but it gets worse. 

On June 23, 1907 her husband, Victor Henry, committed a murder-suicide. Being widowed with 3 small children (Charles 11, Jane 7, and Victor 4) would be hard enough but add to that the shame of losing a husband to suicide in a very public display must have been a horrendous weight to bear. To make matters even worse, Victor's victim was Anne's first cousin, her Uncle Charles Hinch's daughter, Mary Ann Hinch-Cassidy. Scandalous articles appear in local papers speculating that Victor was enamored with the Widow Cassidy if not outright having an affair with her. Mary Ann's death also left 3 orphaned children.

Anne had to find someway to financially support herself and her three children. A story shared by my grandmother's cousins was that initially she put her children into an orphanage. Where ever this home for children was, it was located near a beach. Charles, being the oldest child, saw that his siblings weren't being properly fed at this facility, so he would hide food from his lunch in his pockets, take it out to the beach, and bury it. Later, his siblings would retrieve the food so they would have something to eat. Anna learned of this and immediately brought her children home. She took on odd jobs, mostly cleaning for people. At one point she worked at Aquaduct Raceway in Queens cleaning at what is a pretty well know horse racing track. She also took in foster children which I am sure came with some money from the state as it still does today. In several census records I saw children other than her own living with Anne.

In the 1915 NY State Census, Anne had 6 children living with her; the three that we know are her biological children and Joseph (age 3), Frank (age 1), and Antonio (age 1) all listed as with the surname Henry. In the 1920 U.S. Census she had three "foundlings" in her care; George Hula age 4, and twin girls age 2, Marah and Mary Gericie. In 1930, Victor is the only one of Anna's children still living with her but they also had an 8 year-old "boarder" named Edward Reed.

My Great Uncle Bobby told me Edward died of appendicitis while in Anna's care. He recalled that his grandma, Anne, took Eddie to the doctor's office with terrible stomach pain and the doctor dismissed his ailment as an act; that Eddie's was just trying to get out of going to school. Apparently though, he was treated for appendicitis because according to his death certificate, Edward Reed died on December 7, 1937 at the age of 16 at Jamaica Hospital of gangrene following an appendectomy conducted on November 19, 1937. He is buried with Anne at St. John's Cemetery in Queens, NY. Anna signed his death certificate as his guardian and Uncle Bobby recalled Anne was devastated with grief at Eddie's death.

Edward, George, Marah, Mary, Joseph, Frank, and Antonio are just the 7 foster children I know of; I imagine there were many others.

Now burying one child is horrific enough, Anne buried 3 of her own babies and a foster child and goes on to outlive 2 of her own adult children. Both my great grandfather, Charles, and his younger brother Victor predecease their mother. On September 30, 1940, Victor drown at the age of 38, overcome in a storm while fishing with his brother-in-law Clarence Edsall (July 26, 1890 - March 30, 1955). My grandmother recalled the day her Uncle Victor died. She was just 11 when the police arrived at their door in East Hempstead, Long Island, now Uniondale, to inform her father, Charles, that Victor had died. 

My great grandpa, Charles, died on June 14, 1949 at the age of 53 from a rare form of cancer; cancer of the peritoneum. The peritoneum is a thin layer of tissue that lines the abdomen. It is believed he may have developed the cancer because of chemicals he was exposed to while carrying out his profession as a paint manufacturer.

Although I did not know my Great-great Grandmother, I know Anne must have been a strong woman with a gentle heart. She seems to have showered great kindness on the unfortunate, even though she herself was likely viewed as unfortunate. That's a nice legacy to leave behind; to survive strife and help others to do the same.

52 Ancestors Challenge Week 50: "Traditions" - Record Your Personal Traditions

This theme had me a bit stumped and so I reached out to my friends and family via FaceBook to see if they had any ideas about traditions in our family. My Cousin Joan reminded me that I personally have a tradition of taking most of my younger cousins, and a few friends' kids, on road trips when they turned 15 or 16. It's not that I had forgotten about that, its just didn't strike me as a family tradition related to genealogy but it absolutely is! 

Perhaps it didn't dawn on me to write about it because it is not about my ancestors, it's present day, well, maybe not exactly present day. I took my first trip with Cousin Meghan in July of 2003, nearly 20 years ago. These are events, though, that I created and that happened in my own life, not that of my ancestors.

I just recently gave a presentation at the Montauk Library on collecting oral histories from family members. That is a truly critical part of genealogy research because someday each of us will pass away and with us will go all the memories we hold. Whether those histories are recorded in a written or aural manner doesn't matter too much, as long as they are recorded. In a hundred years, or maybe not even all that far off, some descendant or relative will be struggling to label that photo, or be pouring hours into unpuzzling some family mystery that is no mystery to you, or simply be craving the story only you could tell. So recording your own personal history now, in whatever format, will be an important genealogical resource in the future, if it is preserved. So...  Here goes...

Cousin Meghan to Newport, Rhode Island, July 5-7, 2003 

 

Cousin Megan was the first of my cousins to join me for a special 16th birthday road trip. We went to Newport, Rhode Island and toured the great gold coast mansions and their gardens including the Green Animals location pictured above. Meghan and I are second cousins; we have the same great-grandparents in common.

Cousin Andrew to Hopewell, Virginia and Washington, D.C., July 22-25, 2005

Cousin Andrew is my first cousin on my father's side of the family. There is a 15 year age gap between me and Andrew. The same distance as there is between me and his father. 

First we stopped in Hopewell, Virginia to visit the newly issued headstone of our great-great-great uncle, Benjamin Franklin Losee, Civil War soldier. Ben died in Point of Rocks, Virginia of dysentery in one of the hospital tents during his service in the Union Army. For over a century his remains laid under a misspelled headstone. I petitioned the government to get that stone replace, and there it stood. 

After Hopewell, it was off to D.C., a great location to take kids. I'm not the only one to think that as you can tell by so many of our photos from that trip, the Boy Scout agreed with me. We happened to be there the same week as the National Boy Scouts Jamboree. Boy Scouts were everywhere. We toured all the city monuments at night; boy scouts were there. We went to many of the Smithsonian museums; boy scouts were there. We went to the ESPN Zone - boy scouts, the Navy Museum - boy scouts, the International Spy Museum - boy scouts, Arlington National Cemetery to see the changing of the guard - boy scouts. We capped the trip off with a final stop at Mount Vernon, and as I recall, there were boy scouts there too.

Cousin Rachel, Massachusetts, June 30 - July 3, 2006

Cousin Rachel and I are also second cousins; our dads' mothers were sisters. When I say my Cousin Rachel and I went to Massachusetts, I mean we went all over Massachusetts. We started at the Dr. Seuss Memorial in Springfield, MA, followed by the Norman Rockwell Museum in Stockbridge, MA, then the Emily Dickinson House in Amherst, Sleepy Hollow Cemetery and the Alcott home in Concord, the House of Seven Gables in Salem, and finally the Fisherman's Memorial in Gloucester.

Cousin Zachary, Baltimore, Maryland & D.C., June 22-25, 2007

Rachel & Meghan's brother Zachary was the next to venture out with me on a road trip. I asked each of them where it was that they wanted to go and like the others, Zach left it up to me. I had enjoyed my trip with Andrew to D.C. so much I thought it would be a good spot for Zach and I too. However, I wanted to something a little different so first Cousin Zach and I hit Baltimore's Inner Harbor. 

In Baltimore we saw babe Ruth's Birthplace, looked for Edgar Allen Poe's home, went to Geppi's Entertainment Museum (which no longer exists. It closed in 2018), and the Hard Rock Cafe. 

The remainder of our trip was spent in D.C. doing hop-on, hop-off bus tours and sprinting through Smithsonian Museums.

Cousin Ashlee, Pittsburgh, PA and Cleveland, OH, August 15-18, 2008

Of all the cousins I ever traveled with on one of these jaunts, Cousin Ashlee was the only one who when asked for a destination knew right where she wanted to go; the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. It was a lot further than I had taken any of the other cousins but hell, she had a destination and so we went. 

Our first stop was at the Church Brew Works in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvannia. Yup that's right, I took a kid to a brewery in a former church. That has sort of set the tone for every trip I have ever taken with Cousin Ashlee who is now traveled with me as an adult on at least four other trips. Four? Montreal, Salem, down to New Orleans, and across Canada, well at least from Toronto to Vancouver. Yeah, that's four.

Once we made it to Cleveland we spent a lot of time in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. On the way back home to New York we stopped in Pittsburgh again to see the Andy Warhol Museum and caught a tour at the Frank Lloyd Wright designed Fallingwater in Mill Run, PA.

Cousin Adam, Pennsylvania, July 3-6, 2009

The following year when it was Cousin Adam's turn to travel with me I suggested returning to PA and seeing some of the sights Ashlee and I did not see. After all I didn't want to do the same trip with each kid and I wanted him to see something different than his brother Andrew had seen with me.

Our trip began in Philadelphia. We made stops at Independence Hall, the steps of the Museum of Art made famous by that scene in Rocky, and then Eastern State Penitentiary. 

I had never been to the prison museum before but it is one of my very favorites. I recommend it to everyone who heads to Philly. I have been there several times since. Go if you can.

From Philly we headed west. We went to Gettysburg, Hershey Park, the Antique Auto Museum at Hersey, and the Harley-Davidson Factory in York, PA.

Cousin Vanessa, Cape May, New Jersey & Washington, D.C., August 13-16, 2010

Unlike her sister Ashlee, Cousin Vanessa wasn't sure where she wanted to visit either so, like with many of the other cousins I traveled with I decided to take her to D.C. It has a lot of free sites and museums to explore. If it's free, it's for me. But to mix it up just a little bit for both Vanessa and I, I wanted to add in a location neither of us had ever been to so we could share something the others and I had not. So our first stop was Cape May, New Jersey.

There we did a dolphin cruise which if you ask any of my other traveling cousins will attest to the fact that I am not built for water. That will probably be the only dolphin cruise I ever do.

We did other firsts too, now that I think about it. Cousin Vanessa and I went to the Bureau of Engraving and Printing when we were in D.C. Again, a free experience but we had to be up super early to get online to get tickets for the much coveted tour. No wonder I had never been to it before. Hmm, maybe I was there when I was a girl scout. I can't recall. I know I was there with Vanessa though.

We also visited the Postal Museum, which I had never visited before. We chose that in honor of her Grandpa Stanley who had worked in the U.S. Post Office for a long, long time.

Cousin Elizabeth, Cape Cod, MA and Newport, RI, July 4-7, 2012

Cousin Elizabeth is the youngest of my paternal cousins and so it was kind of meaningful to bring this traveling cousin tradition full circle and take her to Newport, Rhode Island where I had my first cousin birthday trip with Cousin Meghan.

In addition to gold coast mansion tours, we also went out to the very end of Cape Cod, Massachusetts, to Provincetown.

We stopped to eat a sandwich in Sandwich, MA where I snapped this photo that still stares at me in my office.

We also hunted down the headquarters for the famous TAPS team of Ghost Hunters fame in Warwick, RI.

One thing that stands out in my mind from this trip is R. Kelly's song, Feelin' on Yo Booty, stuck on replay. Don't ask. Cousin trips get crazy. The other thing that still makes me giggle is Elizabeth asking me why this statue of a water nymph was holding a corn dog. "A corn dog?!?! That's a cattail plant!" Hmm. Cattails do kind of look like corn dogs. 

 

Like Elizabeth Shown Mills's FAN method, which stands for Friends, Associates, and Neighbors, I've included "like family" kids into my road trip adventures. When researching your family history it isn't just relatives by blood that have details about your ancestors' lives. Those people had contemporaries too who they spent time with and who might have actually known them better than their own family members.

Miss Nicole, Philadelphia, PA, August 22-25, 2015

Miss Nicole is the daughter of my very best friend from my undergraduate days at community college. Her mother and I met in art history class and have been friends every since, nearing 30 years now. Hard to believe.

Nicole had heard of all my road trip adventures with my young cousins so I promised her when she was old enough I would take her on a road trip adventure sans parents. We could do whatever she wanted to do; stay up late, eat crap, flirt with boys, whatever.

She and I headed down to Philadelphia for an excursion much like the one I had with Cousin Adam but much more concentrated on Philly.

We did make a visit to Eastern State Penitentiary. I couldn't help it. I love that place. 

We visited Independence Hall as well and made sure to ring that Liberty Bell. (Ya can't really touch it but you can act like to you're going to.)

 

After gorging ourselves on cheesesteaks, we went to see one of the locations used for the film The Sixth Sense. Set in Philadelphia, the main character, Cole, seeks sanctuary inside this church, St. Augustine's, where he chats with Bruce Willis's character, Dr. Malcom Crowe. Great movie. You have to see it if you haven't. Cole sees dead people!

The furthest we got west of Philly was to Hershey Park. It's not a road trip with a kid if there isn't some excessive regional candy present. This was the first time I got to make my own candy bar at Hersey's.

Master Laszlo, Buffalo, NY & Toronto, Ontario, Canada, June 27-30 2019

Speaking of excessive regional candy...

Nicole's younger brother has traveled with me too. He had a destination in mind, though, which I love and of course had to honor. With his parents permission he was the first and only kid I have taken to a foreign country. Laszlo wanted to go to Toronto! YES! Canada!

I was game. I had never really been there before unless you count sitting in the Toronto airport waiting 45 minutes for a terrible hamburger. Ugh.

 

After a quick stop in Buffalo to have some wings with my Cousin Lisa and her family, Laszlo and I made it to Niagara Falls, Ontario where we experienced every Canadian candy the gift shop had to offer while looking at the falls from our hotel room. Nice view, right?

 

From there we headed up to Toronto for a full day in the city. At his request I stomached my crippling fear of heights and ventured up to the top of the CN Tower. I've actually have done that twice now. Once was enough really.

For the long drive back to NY, we made a stop in Corning, NY - gotta have something to do on the way back - and went to the Corning Glass Museum. I love it there too. Laszlo got to make his own art glass piece which was very cool.

And that is the history of my road trip adventures with teenagers. Maybe I will someday add to this when my nieces turn teens.

Family history is perishable. It disappears as minds soften, memories fade, and loved ones pass away. Preserving a record of the present or somewhat recent past is a truly an important part of family history. Preserve your personal story now for future generations of your family to help know and understand you and the life you led.

52 Ancestors Challenge Week 49: "New Horizons" - Street Name Change

I am an academic librarian at Farmingdale State College, a college of technology in the State University of New York (SUNY) system on Long Island, NY. Back on June 1, 2022, I received a call from the local public library that they received an inquiry regarding the families from whom the State had purchased the property on which to establish our school back in 1912. So I went poking around to discover the names of Richard Smith Mott (April 17, 1851 - June 26, 1916), Ezekiel Ketcham Smith (October 1, 1840 - January 1, 1920) and Judson Floyd Ruland (March 8, 1952 - January 1, 1925).

They weren't the only three landowners but their farms comprised the majority of the land on which our school still exists; the Mott farm was 167 acres, the Smith farm 45 acres, and the Ruland farm 50 acres. The additional land was formerly owned by Molly May Lazarus (17.5 acres), Timothy Terry (14 acres), John C. Merritt (10 acres), Zachariah P. Henderson (4.5 acres), and Mary Seaman (1.38 acres) for a total campus size of about 333 acres to be used as an agricultural school. It should be noted here that most of those former landowners have old Long Island surnames. Lots of nearby towns and roads share those names - towns like Smithtown and Terryville.

Being a public historian with genealogical inclinations, I went looking to learn more about the lives of these individuals that once owned the College's property. Obituaries are always a wealth of information but I did not anticipate what I found. (Transcription beneath the image).

 

Judson Rouland (sic) Buried at Farmingdale

That faithfulness brings forth a just reward was demonstrated at Farmingdale Sunday afternoon, when such a large gathering from all over Nassau County and the western section of Suffolk County assembled to pay their last respects to Klansman Judson Rouland, that it needed four members of the New York State Police to direct traffic at the church and at the Lower Melville Cemetery, where he was finally laid at rest.

Mr. Rouland, who was 72 years of age, died on New Year's morning of apoplexy, after a short illness. Not only was he a faithful Klansman, but he was a member of the Farmingdale Methodist Episcopal Church all his lifetime, and a member of the Executive Board for the past eighteen years, He is survived by a widow, who is his second wife, and several children.

It was decided on Friday to hold a Klan funeral and word was immediately passed along to the Klans for several miles in all directions, with the result that Sunday afternoon over 200 Klansmen, in robes, but not masked, gathered at his home, from Babylon, Lindenhurst, Seaford, Freeport, Roosevelt, Valley Stream, Hempstead, Hicksville, Huntington and Port Washington.

After a short prayer at the house, by the Rev. Fred Wilcox, pastor of the Methodist Church, the remains were removed to the hearse by robed Klansmen, six in number, acting as pall bearers, and the entire Klan delegation, led by the Hempstead Klan, with their color bearer, carrying the American flag, and their cross bearer, escorted their comrade to the Methodist Church where, throughout the entire service, the flag bearer stood at the head of the casket and the cross bearer at the foot. There was also a guard of honor consisting of Dr. William H. Kingston, Exalted Cyclops of the Farmingdale Klan; Paul W. F. Lindner, Exalted Cyclops of the Hempstead Klan, and a third Exalted Cyclops, whose name could not be ascertained.

At the close of the church service, which was also presided over by the Rev. Mr. Wilcox, the Klansmen accompanied the cortage (sic) to the grave at the Lower Melville Cemetery. It was at this place that the most of the Klan ceremonies were held.

As the pallbearers bore their comrade to the grave in the center of the cemetery, taps was sounded by a bugler, and when the casket was lowered a quartet of Klansmen sang "The Old Rugged Cross." At the close of the prayer by the Rev. Mr. Wilcox, a solitary Klansmen stood on guard over his comrade's grave.

He was seen to lean over a miniture (sic) cross that had been placed at the foot of the grave and the next second the blaze flared up, enveloping the entire cross. The guarding Klansman remained like a statue, at Klan attention with arms crossed, until the cross had burned out, when he came to Klan salute and departed.

I was disturbed to say the least. Now Judson Ruland does not appear to have held any leadership positions in the KKK, as did Paul Lindner who was the Cyclops (chapter president) of the Hempstead KKK. A road in the Village of Malverne, NY named after Lindner was recently renamed after a petition was put forth by a group of high school students. There was clearly no shame in proclaiming Judson was a member, though. 

You'll note the misspelling of his surname in the article; Rouland instead of Ruland. I think it is just a typo but I do wonder if it was done intentionally; perhaps to disassociate the individual from his family name. As you will note it does not name his wife or offspring; unusual for an obituary.

There is a road named after Ruland on the boarder between Melville and Farmingdale; an east to west road between Route 110 (also known as Broadhollow Road) and Pinelawn Road that leads to what was once the northeast corner of his property. Judson Ruland purchased the land on May 14, 1888 from Jesse N. Seaman and sold it to the State for the purpose of our College in late 1913; for 25 years Ruland owned 50 acres that he sold to the State 110 years ago. That's all. He is not a historical figure in the annals of our community. He was an ordinary resident who is on the wrong side of our history.

Discovering this, I instantly felt the compulsion to get this history recognized and that street name changed. The values upheld by the Klan do not reflect the values of the present-day community; nor should they have ever in my opinion. That organization teaches hate, pure and simple. 

I believe that doing nothing about what you know to be a disgrace is silently approving. So I wrote a letter to the Town of Huntington asking for the road to be renamed. They listened to me but it turns out it is a county road so now it is a project for Suffolk County to address. They too seem on board with making the change. At present the story has been picked up by several news sources both local and regional; The Long Island Press, News12, Newsday, CBS News, ABC7 New York, radio and other online community outlets. 

For those out there who want to say that what I am doing is erasing our history, and there are several, I don't want to hear it. I have not erased anything. I cannot erase something that you didn't know. The obituary is still right where I found it. I am shining a light on that history; trying to make everyone aware of the existence and history of racial discrimination on Long Island. The Klan doesn't just hate blacks, they hate minorities of all ilk, immigrants, Jews, Catholics, etc. They burned a cross at his grave. Mr. Ruland was not a historical figure. No one knew who the road was named after. Besides, you can count on one hand how many homes are on the road. It is mostly industrial. Just change it. Do better.

That being said, I do have concerns for those who live and work on that road who will hassle with needing to have their addresses updated everywhere but I believe when most of them learn the history behind that name, they too will be happy to see the change. In fact, I have heard from residents who have said as much. 

I do have concerns for descendants of Judson Ruland as well and I started to wonder what their reactions would be to learning this detail about their ancestor if they did not already know. So, again, I went looking. Not with the intention of contacting them but just for the awareness of how many this change might directly impact. Judson Ruland had nine children. Not all of them lived long enough to procreate. Of the seven who lived to adulthood, it seem very few of them had offspring.

When I went looking for his daughter, Jane Belle Ruland, on Ancestry, I was dismayed to find the top user created family tree containing her name was, indeed, my very own tree. No shit! Jane Ruland married into my family.  Her husband's great grandparents - Uriah Smith (about 1785 - before 1829) and Elizabeth Raynor-Smith (1790 - July 20, 1855) - are my 5th great grandparents. I was beyond shocked because here I had been researching this person for months never once considering I'd have any connection to his family.

I was able to confirm Judson Ruland's descendants and I are related through a DNA match. Yes, I have a DNA match to Judson Ruland's great grandchild. It is a small match, 10 centimorgans (cMs), but other known relatives of mine who have also tested their DNA also match that Ruland descendant; my father (42 cMs), my uncle (33 cMs), my sister (21 cMs), 2 of my first cousins (33 cMs & 31 cMs), & a second cousin (22 cMs). It is not "Ruland" DNA, its Raynor-Smith DNA, but they are Judson Ruland's descendants nonetheless and they are my cousins.

Does this change my perspective on renaming that road?

No.

DNA does not cause one to be a racist, of course. Racism is a learned behavior. I mean, sure sometimes you could learn it from your family but it really comes from the environment you are surrounded by; your friends, your associates, your neighbors, etc. 

Were there other klansmen in the neighborhood? 

Of course! 200 hundred of them showed up for the funeral.

But in my 35+ years of doing genealogy research, I have read hundreds, if not thousands of obituaries and I have never seen one like that before.

It is not my desire to bring shame to that family name. It is just time we do better. Judson Ruland owned a farm for 25 years, he sold it nearly 110 years ago, and the road leading to his once farm has held his name for far too long. He's been dead nearly 98 years. He didn't even live on that road or own property on it, it just lead to his farm. Just rename it.

Just do better!

So unless you live on that road, own a business on that road, have the last name Ruland, or are a descendant of Judson himself, expressing your disdain for me voicing my discovery falls on deaf ears here. Express your feelings to the representatives in office. Maybe they can stop what I have put in motion. Rest assured, they won't.

52 Ancestors Challenge Week 48: "Overlooked" - Uncle Allen's Thrift Store Find

Just recently, the craziest thing happened. Something that could have been overlooked or ignored wasn't. 

My Uncle Allen loves to go to thrift stores. Loves it! He has several that he frequents. Just this past summer he went to one he hadn't visited before. There he saw a thin book that stood out to him because of the title; Southside Burial Ground, Ozone Park, NY, published in 1996. Allen's maternal grandparents, my great-grandparents, Charles Henry (March 26, 1896 - June 14, 1949) and Anna Sauer-Henry-Stoothoff (July 19, 1899 - May 8, 1986), grew up in Ozone Park, Queens County, New York and only moved to Nassau County, New York after they were married.

Charles died young; he was just 53 when he passed away in 1949 from peritoneal cancer, a rare form of cancer of the stomach lining. His widow, Anna, eventually remarried on October 7, 1963 to Frank W. Stoothoff (February 21, 1903 - September 17, 1993), her first husband's cousin. Oh yes, that's right; as if my tree wasn't messy enough. My step-great-grandfather was also my first cousin 3 times removed. Charles Henry's mother Annette Hinch-Henry (February 22, 1868 - March 2, 1952) was the younger sister of Frank Stoothoff's mother, Sarah Bridget Hinch-Stoothoff-Rhodes (July 25, 1873 - January 4, 1965).

When Uncle Allen came upon that book in the thrift store he immediately thought that I would love the book because it was about Ozone Park but he put it down. "Ah, I'm not gonna get it." He then continued to walk around the shop for a long time but before leaving he was drawn back to the book and decided to flip through it and stumbled upon the name Stoothoff in the text. He thought, "Well hot damn, I'm gonna get it for her." I don't know if he said hot damn but I imagine he did. He would say something like that.

When he gave it to me, we sat and talked about the Stoothoffs for a bit. My grandma wasn't particularly fond of her step-father but I am not entirely sure why. About 10 years ago or so, when my grandmother's memory was still a bit intact, we visited with some of her Stoothoff cousins, June and Dorothea McCowen. Their mother was Frank Stoothoff's sister, Ann Elizabeth Stoothoff-McCowen (June 20, 1895 - July 30, 1988). Their mother was actually named after my great-great grandmother, her aunt, Annette "Ann" Hinch-Henry, mentioned above. Anyway...

As soon as I got to June and Dorothea's house, one of them, I'm not sure who, told me that I looked like a Hinch. I look like my grandmother so, if grandma looks like a Hinch, then I do too. During that visit the sisters bestowed a photograph to me of my great-great grandma, Annette.  

She looks like Julia Roberts, doesn't she? But if Hinches look like Julia Roberts, I sure don't look like one of them. In any case...

June and Dorothea were very skilled genealogists and proud members of the Woodhaven Cultural & Historical Society. Sadly, Dorothea has passed since our meeting. 

When I sat down to read the book, this is what appeared on the verso (The verso is the back of the title page):

Get the hell out of here! I had to tell my Uncle Allen. When he bought it, again, he almost didn't buy it, he had no idea the authors were related to us. 

He and I talked for a bit about freaky things that happen like this and we both entirely believe it is an indication that the souls of those departed are still with us and trying to tell us something. I'm not sure what, but they are afoot, I am sure of it. Something made Allen go back for this book and I am so glad he did.

Thanks, Uncle Al!

52 Ancestors Challenge Week 47: "Wrong Side of the Law" - Albert Gardner's Brush with the Law Solidifies Name Changing

Oh this was tricky topic for me to address. Oh so many to choose from. What's a girl to do? I've got quite a few in my family who have had a brush with the law.

When I started my genealogy research over 30 years ago, I began on my father's side of the family trying to unpuzzle for myself some of the modern day connections I did not quite understand. I stayed on that side of the family for a very long time. I did not truly dig into my mother's lineage until after my grandpa passed away in 2004; about 18 years ago. 

That was in part due to the fact my maternal grandmother passed away before I was born so I had almost no source of information for her branch of my tree and my maternal grandfather was very reluctant to speak about his family history. He would answer my questions but I had to be very specific about those questions. 

I recall one time I asked him if he had any uncles to which he replied, "Oh yeah, sure." 

Silence. 

"Um, do you remember their names?" 

"Yeah" 

Silence.

"What were their names?"

"Well, let's see. I had an Uncle Babe and an Uncle Blue-Eyes..."

"Grandpa, do you know the names your grandparents gave to your uncles?"

"Hmm. I'm not sure."

Another big obstacle in researching my maternal grandfather's branch of my tree has been the fact that there was a surname change. My Great-great-grandfather, Damas Desjardins, French-Canadian by birth, Anglicized his name to Thomas Gardner. I suspect this was in order to obtain more work and avoid ethnic discrimination. I cannot find anything official about the name change and back then, before Social Security, it was easier to assume an identity. Assuming an identity isn't always about evading the authorities.

In some records Damas appears as Damas Desjardins, in others as Thomas Gardner, in others as Damas Gardner, and still others as Thomas Desjardins. To make matters even more confusing, his offspring indiscriminately used either last name as well. His son, my great grandfather, Almond Desjardins, like his father also chose to use a more American sounding first name; Albert. Almond, a.k.a. Albert, was indeed born in the United States; his name just sounded very French.

This flip-flopping of names not only makes constructing searches more challenging,  it makes proving anything a daunting task. I often hear myself saying, "Well, yes, I know it says that but it is the same man." Anything I can find that helps me to solidify this family's surname change is precious to me.

This branch of the family has also had some run ins with the law in nearly every generation. Which brings me to an article from the Brooklyn Daily Star titled "Sing Sing for John Miller: L.I. City Man who Swindled Magnus Larsen Sent Up on Suspended Sentence - Five Others Given a Chance to Reform" from December 21, 1907. In it is mentioned Almond Gardner. The first time I have seen my great grandfather listed with his very French-sounding birth name and Anglicized surname. In addition to showing his name in that way, it also documents when the family moved from Queens to Patchogue, Suffolk County, NY. What a gem of a find!!

It reads as follows:

"Almond Gardner, a former Astoria boy whose folks now live at Patchogue, took a quantity of lead pipe and brass sewer traps from a house belonging to George B. Ruthman on Main street last November. He is only seventeen years old and has promised to behave."

Interestingly enough, 24 years later, Almond's baby brother, Damas Jr., who might have been Uncle Babe, is also arrested for burglarizing a house while in his teens. That time, though, the house was out in Patchoque and Damas Jr. stole an electric pump with his soon-to-be brother-in-law, Elbert King. I found that in a March 31, 1931 article in the Patchogue Advance titled "Young Men Arrested for Stealing Pump." Tsk, tsk, tsk. What is with these boys?

Had Almond not committed his juvenile crime, though, I might never have had such concrete proof that he was known by variations of the names Almond Desjardins and Albert Gardner. Additionally, I knew the family had moved to Patchoque between the 1900 and 1910 censuses. This article, though, helps me to narrow the date of the family's move to after November 1906, when the crime was committed, and before December 1907, when the article was written.

Run-ins with the law result in documentation of the on-goings of a family. It's not all bad.
 

52 Ancestors Challenge Week 46: "Tombstones" - Perpetual Care

It is a fairly frequent experience for me to venture out to a cemetery where some relative is interred to find there is no tombstone for them. I find unmarked graves sad and I wish I could afford to mark them all but, damn, headstones are expensive.

Last year I did a presentation for the Allen County Public Library Genealogy Center about a project of mine related to a family tombstone. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nw53oHpcfgA 

In brief, during the pandemic I planned a project to visit all the gravesites of my direct ancestors back to my 3rd great grandparents. In general that could be a total of 2 parents, 4 grandparents, 8 great grandparents,16 great-great grandparents, and 32 3rd great grandparents; a total of 62 souls in all. For me, though, both my parents are living as well as my nonagenarian grandma so I had the potential need to visit 59 graves. 

As a genealogist though, I have already visited many gravesites. After evaluating the "unvisited," my list was whittled down to 30 graves to visit. There are 9 I am still struggling to locate; most on my French Canadian lines, likely all in Quebec. That means I had to visit 21 unvisited gravesites for this project. I determined where I thought each grave was based on death certificates, obituaries, and/or family members. Fourteen of those 21 graves are in 6 cemeteries within the boundaries of the City of New York. 

Do you sense where this is going? 

Field trip! I visited all 6 of those cemeteries in one crazy day!

During our 4th stop in the 2nd cemetery, my cousin Peter and I saw this site in St. John Cemetery in Middle Village, Queens, New York; Section 16, Row A, Grave 403. Can you pick out the grave for my 3rd great grandpa, Victor Henry (March 1838 - November 9, 1896)?

Yeah that's it. Right there in the middle. Broken. 

Like I said, it is rare my ancestors have a headstone so to find this one broken broke my heart. I immediately began a family campaign to replace the stone which was a process in and of itself (also discussed in the video). 

What I want to highlight here, though, is the hidden cost of replacing a headstone or erecting a marker on an unmarked grave. It is not just a matter of going to a stone carver and picking out something pretty to bear your loved one's name and dates of birth and death. Oh no, it is so much more than that. Depending on the cemetery, there may be many fees; fees to review their records, fees to remove the damaged stone, permit fees to allow the stone carver to place a new stone, and something called perpetual care fees.

Now maybe you'll be lucky to avoid all that but my ancestors were Catholics and in New York City. If yours were too, be prepared to pay up. Well, think about it. Any land in New York City is expensive and maybe the separation of church and state means a cemetery with religious affiliation doesn't have to pay taxes to the state on that land (I don't know) but even so, once a cemetery sells a plot, how do they continue to make any money? Someone has to pay the people who mow the lawn and manage the records, so most cemeteries charge maintenance fees to grave owners for that very reason.

So, perpetual care... According to the New York State Division of Cemeteries, "All cemeteries must cut the grass on all graves and provide some degree of maintenance to other types of final resting places." Cemeteries can sell “endowed” or “perpetual” care services, meaning the individual who buys the plot pays a fee to the cemetery. The cemetery holds or invests that money to earn profits thus being able to continue long term care beyond basic grass cutting, such as beautifying the cemetery with plantings, or cleaning the monument, or fixing pathways, etc. The contract between the cemetery and the buyer will show what care will be provided. 

When a family has bought perpetual care, that does not ensure the cemetery will be cared for in perpetuity. If the cemetery's investment does not generate enough income to cover cost of maintenance, the cemetery could fall into disrepair or the cemetery may ask, but cannot require, the family to increase the amount of money in the account. 

So, when a plot is purchased, the cemetery will ask the plot owner to pay a perpetual care fee. Frequently there was be an option to pay a lesser fee annually rather than a larger perpetual care fee. My family, not being financially well off, typically opt for the lesser annual fee. Then, time goes by and the plot owner stops paying it for whatever reason; maybe they themselves pass away as was the case with Victor Henry's son who bought the plot to bury his father. What this means is that the plot is left in arrears, which means you haven't paid your bill. 

That adds up over time and when the next burial comes around, or in my case, when someone wants to restore a headstone or erect a new one, you have to pay that accrued back care fee. 

My advice, just pay the perpetual care fee from the get go and communicate that to the family. That is why you find headstone that have "perpetual care" engraved on them. Sure, the cemetery may ask for additional funds but they can't demand care fees, not in NY they can't. Spare your descendants the expense and just pay the fee.

By the way, this is Victor Henry's new headstone; financed by many of his descendants and placed just in time for the 125th anniversary of his death. Without the exact dates of birth and death for all those interred, I opted to just put the years although I do much prefer when the whole date is present.

52 Ancestors Challenge Week 45: "Ghost Story" - An Apparition in Freeport

I don't really have family ghost stories, at least not one related to my family history. I mean both my sister and I recall separate instances of a ghostly apparition in the upstairs of our childhood home. The figure of a man dressed as a fly fisherman didn't seem to be a relative but ya never know.

My Uncle Walter, my uncle by marriage, now deceased, spoke of a home in his family located in Brooklyn that was haunted. Uncle Walter passed away in 2014 after a battle with brain cancer. Given that he is no longer with us I could not pin down a story. I clearly recall him referring to the "upstairs" of a brownstone being the residence of the specters and that he had either seen or hear a story of someone watching a toy roll back and forth across an upstairs floor. My sister recalls him speaking of sounds of a baby crying. Again, though, not really a ghost story I recall.

I once came across a story in a newspaper about a ghost in the town of Freeport, Long Island, New York where my Losee family lived. Several of the articles, and yes, there were several, mentioned an encounter between the specter and a John Losee. I am not entirely sure that the John Losee in the article was indeed my relative though. The articles describe him as a young man with the middle initial R. My great-great grandfather, John M. Losee Jr., would have been about 23 at the time and although that sounds young to me now, hmm, the article gave me the sense that this was a teenager interviewed.

The story I first saw appeared in the Brooklyn Daily Eagle on November 19, 1893, page 20. (See below for article, followed by a transcription for those who cannot read the image).

An Apparition in Freeport

It Appears to be a Man Seven Feet High and Waltzes on One Foot

Freeport, L.I., Nov. 18 - Fearful hearts are beating in this village to-night. Fathers have deserted warm firesides and mothers have sent their sons forth to rid Freeport on an apparition. Men are patrolling the streets armed with weapons of war of modern and ancient make, ready to shoot the strange being if it appears in their path.

The apparition made its initial appearance in Freeport's streets a week ago. It has held undisputed away after nightfall ever since. The vicinity of lower Main Street has been the favorite haunt of the mysterious being. That portion of the street is lined on both sides by large trees and is shrouded in deep gloom after nightfall. Aside from the attractions mentioned it is a favorite spot with the youth of the place.

Miss Pauline Klein was being escorted home by Joseph Bennett of Hempstead. When near a place known as the Dell Raynor property a man jumped from behind a tree. He began a high-kicking act on the sidewalk. Miss Klein uttered a piercing shriek and clutched Mr. Bennett's arm.

"Oh! Joe! Joe! what is it!" asked the young woman, in husky tones. Before Mr. Bennett could reply, the strange being made a dash for the couple. Miss Klein and her escort fled down the street. Finally when forced to stop for want of breath, they turned and looked back. There was no one in sight.

The apparition has been seen several times since that night and has frightened a number of persons. Martin Acorn, employed as a hostler in a village hotel, had a lively experience with the apparition last night. A little later John Losee walked down Main Street whistling the "Girl I Left Behind Me," when the apparition jumped from behind a house and began to waltz towards him on one foot.

Those who have seen the "terror" describe him as a man 7 feet in height, with red flowing side whiskers and a face as white as snow. His face looks as if it was painted. His clothing is ragged, and, in running, he has a knee action like a trotting horse.

It makes me laugh what was taken for news, then and now to be honest. The story was also covered in the New York Times, The World, The Buffalo Currier, The Buffalo Weekly Express, and The Sun. Yes, prominent publications. The Sun was the paper in which, just 4 years later on September 21, 1897, Francis Church responded to 8 year-old Virginia O'Hanlon with the now famous line "Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus." And as Virginia's papa said, "If you see it in The Sun it's so."

The Buffalo Weekly Express had more lurid details of John's encounter with the apparition running around Freeport in it's November 30th coverage.

John R. Losee got closer than either of the preceding witnesses. The shape appeared to Losee while he was going home about 10 o'clock on Thursday evening (probably November 23, 1893). Losee agrees on the eight feet tall and white hair on the face, and adds that the features looked like a man and wore very ragged clothes. Losee was walking in lower Main Street when the creature attacked him. Losee reached out his hand to catch the monster, but it dissolved as it had done in the presence of Austin Ellison, Losee says you can't hear the ghost's feet strike when it runs.

Now the apparition is 8 feet tall. Grew a foot since the last newspaper. The November 26th edition of The World revealed that the culprit had already been unmasked though; like a scene from Scooby Doo. It was no other than a few high spirited local young men. 

As was stated in The World at the time, the so-called ghost first appeared here [Freeport, Long Island, NY] on Nov. 12 [1893]. From that time until last Thursday [Nov. 28] the entire town has spent more or less time hunting the apparition or fleeing from it. On that night one of the "ghosts" was caught.

The air of this place seems to have been filled with all the ingredients that make what are known as practical jokers. It appears not that this air affected some of our young men. Charles H. Lott, Jr., was the first affected. Dressed in a gunning suit of heavy brown canvas and a "sou'wester" hat he was on his way to the bay late Sunday night, Nov. 12, when he suddenly came across Joseph Bennett and Miss Pauline Kleinert sitting on the front stoop of the young woman's home. Thinking to elude  them Lott was sneaking around the house when Bennett caught sight of him and started towards him. Lott then started  on a run across the lots and soon outdistanced Bennett, who returned to the young woman. They discussed the matter and came to the conclusion that they had seen a ghost. The following Wednesday [November 15] night a "ghost" in the person of Harry Smith, twenty-two years old, appeared on the main road and was chased by quite a crowd. The "ghost" was lost in the woods. Smith had conveniently climbed a tree.

On Sunday [Nov. 26] last, Allison [I think this is really Austin as mentioned in the article above] Ellison who had been Smith's confederate, dressed himself in feminine attire and startled half the town by running like mad through the main streets. Through the efforts of Smith a crowd gave chase and followed "Ghost" Ellison to a pond, where the crowd lost sight of him. He had unhesitatingly plunged into the water and swam away.

The next evening [Monday, Nov. 27] William Bouschier, one of the reputable young men of the town decided to catch the ghost. He did so. Louis Friedman, employed by Henry Mead's bakery, had arrayed himself in all the clothing necessary for a well-equipped ghost and late at night started out. He had not gone far when Bouschier got on his track and caught him in the woods where Friedman, fearful of a beating made known his identity.

So let's see that "ghost" was at least 4 people -  Charles H. Lott, Jr., Harry Smith, Austin Ellison, and Louis Friedman. Not exactly a witch hunt but a little mass hysteria for the village.