52 Ancestors: Week 9: Conflicting Clues - The Sauer Women

I love this image. It holds considerable personal and genealogical significance, as it is said to depict three generations on my paternal grandmother’s maternal line. However, despite its sentimental value, upon closer scrutiny its labeling raises significant questions of identification. I especially question who the identity of the eldest woman on the far right.

My grandmother Clare labeled the back of this photo for me.

The three children standing in the front row are left to right: 

• William J. Sauer (February 5, 1901 - March 16, 1926)
• Joseph Sauer (May 6, 1902 - December 18, 1968)
• Anna Marie Sauer-Henry, my great grandmother, (July 19, 1899 - May 8, 1986)

The woman in the center of the photo is my great-great grandmother Agnes Frances Gray-Sauer.

The back row from left to right are as follows:

• Raymond Fitzpatrick (June 10, 1906 - October 15, 1977)
• Margaret M. Gray-Fitzpatrick (January 25, 1875 - June 20, 1968)
• Mary "Mamie" Gray (July 22, 1869 - May 24, 1929)
• Agnes Frances Gray-Sauer (October 27, 1871 - December 30, 1941)
• Elizabeth Gray (July 9, 1875 - June 9, 1970)
• Anna Hughes-Gray (November 1843 - April 17, 1904)
• Baby (unidentified)

I question the identification of the eldest woman on the far right because I know for certain that Anna Hughes-Gray died on April 17, 1904 and Raymond Fitzpatrick, the child being held on the far left was not born until June 10, 1906. If both dates are accurate, they could not have appeared in the same image. I am confident in the accuracy of these two dates, which suggests that the woman identified as Anna Hughes-Gray may be another relative.

One possibility is Catherine Hughes, a sister of Anna Hughes-Gray. However, I don't have much information about her beyond her existence. I don't know if she married, when she died, or where she lived. Perhaps further research into Catherine’s life may clarify if she could possibly be the eldest woman in the picture.

Additionally, I have problems with the dates I have recorded for the sisters Margaret Gray-Fitzpatrick (January 25, 1875) and Elizabeth Gray (July 9, 1875). A six-month interval between the birth of sisters is biologically impossible, meaning at least one of these birth dates is likely incorrect. 

Finally, I believe the unidentified infant may be Cecilia Sauer (July 14, 1906 – August 7, 1907), my great-grandmother’s younger sister who died at a year old. Given Cecilia’s short lifespan, her presence in the photograph would help establish a probable date range for when the image was taken and may help me resolving some of the questions of identification.

If Anna Hughes-Gray wasn't alive to see baby Cecilia, was there another Hughes, or Gray, or Sauer woman of that generation who was?

Nonetheless, I think the photograph is a valuable intergenerational artifact. My grandmother Clare certainly knew many of the individuals in the photo during her lifetime, but toward the end of her life her memory had begun to fade. She passed from Alzheimer's Disease in 2023. So I need to take a closer look now at the records I can find to sort out these inconsistencies and figure out who everyone really is in the photo.

Week 7: The Losees, The Henrys, & The Earles, Oh My.

After a recent post, my cousin Tom asked how my great grandmother Ethel Mae Losee-Earle (February 14, 1896 - May 27, 1960) was connected to his grandpa. I frequently reference this photo when explain the connection between the Losee and the Earle families and the event that spurred my love of genealogy.

This is a photo from my grandma's brother Richie's wedding on April 12, 1953. It actually sits in my office. It shows Richie and his wife Jeannette surrounded by all of Richie's five siblings, their spouses, and his mother Anna Marie Sauer-Henry.

From Left to Right (seated): Regina Dorothy "Jean" Henry-Drew, Anna Marie "Anne" Henry-Cramer, Anna Marie Sauer-Henry, Clare Agnes Henry-Earle, Josephine Dolores Doerflinger-Henry. Standing: James Aloysius "Jimmy" Drew, William Charles "Bill" Cramer, Robert Victor "Bobby" Henry, Richard Joseph "Richie" Henry, Jeannette Alice Losee-Henry, Edwin Maynard "Ed" Earle, Charles Aloysius "Charlie" Henry, Jr. 

Uncle Bobby was not yet married to my beautiful great aunt Margaret at this point. Although 6 years older than Richie, Bobby didn't marry until 3 years later in 1956.

How I Got Started in Genealogy Research 

When I was very young, my paternal grandparents, Clare Agnes Henry-Earle and Edwin Maynard Earle, took me to a family reunion for my grandpa Earle’s mother’s side, the Losees. The Losee family has deep roots on Long Island going back to the 1630s. While at the reunion my grandmother’s baby brother, Richie, showed up with his family. I was puzzled. He wasn’t a Losee. He was a Henry. 

My grandmother explained that her brother married my grandfather’s cousin, Jeannette Losee. That only raised more questions. Who had introduced who? I assumed someone had to have made introductions of either my grandparents to each other or Richie to Jeannette. My grandmother laughed and said that, actually, it wasn’t until Richard and Jeannette’s engagement party that my grandpa realized Jeannette was his cousin. “What?” He asked Jeannette her last name. When she answered “Losee,” he was stunned. That was his mother’s maiden name. 

I was stunned. Richard had unknowingly married his brother-in-law’s second cousin. But at the time of the reunion, no one could explain exactly how the two were connected. So I ended up having to draw a family tree just to visualize it. And I have not stopped since.

Left to Right (seated): Anna Marie Sauer-Henry, Clare Agnes Henry-Earle. (Standing): Richard Joseph "Richie" Henry, Jeannette Alice Losee-Henry, Edwin Maynard Earle. 

Above, Anna is the mother of Clare and Richie. Richie's wife Jeannette is second cousins to Ed. Second cousins means that they have the same great grandparents, that their parents (Standford Losee and Ethel Losee-Earle) were first cousins. Stan's father, Oliver Losee was the older brother of Ethel's father John Losee Jr.

I am hoping the little diagram below can help my cousins to see how the Losees connect to the Henrys and the Earles. I have made my best effort to anonymize the living.

Now to make matters more complex John Losee Jr. and Oliver Losee married two Smith sisters, Flora Smith-Losee and Melinda Smith-Losee, respectively. But I won't add to the chaos today.

52 Ancestors: Week 3: "What This Story Means to Me" - Charles Henry's Clock

In my last post, I mentioned the clock that once belonged to my great-grandfather, Charles Aloysius Henry (March 26, 1896 – June 14, 1949). It came out of his place of employment, John J. Lake & Sons, a paint manufacturer located at 88 Atlantic Avenue in Lynbrook, New York. The clock  has much more than sentimental value, it carries weight of my family history.

Long before this blog ever existed, I had an experience that gave the clock great significance.

A close friend of mine has a sister who is a medium. I’ve written about my experience with Mary once before, and I’ll say upfront: regardless of how you feel about psychics, and believe me, I understand the skepticism, this woman is no joke.

Until I sat down with Mary, I had never had a reading. What she said to me that day was extraordinary. She spoke about things no one outside my family could have possibly known, details that were deeply personal and rooted in my family’s history. And yes, I’m fully aware that nearly everyone who’s impressed by a psychic says the same thing: She told me things no one else could have known. I get how that sounds.

At one point in the reading, though, she paused and broke from the stream of the conversation said, “Who has the clock?”

The clock?

I’m fairly certain I rolled my eyes—maybe not outwardly, but definitely in my head. I remember thinking, Everyone owns a damn clock. Out loud, I said, “I don’t know.”

She looked at me and replied calmly, confidently, “Yes, you do. I can hear it ticking. It's a pendulum clock."

"Oh," I said, "that could be my grandmother's clock."

She said, "But she doesn't have it. Who has the clock?"

"Oh, well, she gave it to my Uncle Allen."

"That should be your clock," Mary said.

I harrumphed. "Yeah, you tell Allen it's my clock."

Then she asked again, "Whose clock was it?"

"Ah, my grandma's."

"No," said Mary. "Whose was it before her?"

"Um, I think it was her father's."

And then she said the most incredible thing. She said, "I smell paint." 

She paused, as if listening to something I couldn’t hear. "Did he make paint?"

Not was he a painter.

Not did he paint.

Did he MAKE paint?

Um, yes, he freakin' made paint.

It wasn’t until after the reading that I asked my grandmother about the clock’s history. Quietly, almost offhandedly, she confirmed it had come out of John J. Lake & Sons, where her father worked making paint.

What has stayed with me wasn’t the shock of the accuracy of what Mary said, it was the feeling that objects, ordinary, unremarkable things, carry presence. Memory. Connection. Instead of a steady, ticking, that clock is a steady reminder that the people who came before us are never all that far away.

Clock from John J. Lake & Sons

Charles A. Henry painting his home in Uniondale.

52 Ancestors: Week 2: "A Life that Added Color" - Charles Aloysius Henry (March 26, 1896 - June 14, 1949)

This week's theme is supposed to be about a record that added color but after last week's post, my cousin Sean asked a few questions about our shared family history that made me think of my great grandpa Charles Aloysius Henry and his life and color. 

15 Fenimore Avenue, East Hempstead, Long Island, New York, was the address where my Henry great grandparents lived. It eventually became 15 Beck Street, Uniondale after the town came through and renamed some streets. There is still a Fennimore Avenue in Uniondale but it isn't the street my grandma grew up on. The Henrys lived on present-day Beck Street. According to my grandmother, that name was chosen because the oldest living person on the street at the time was Mrs. Beck. That change had to have occurred very close to 1950 because I see Mrs. Beck living at 24 Fenimore in the 1940 census but then in the 1950 census she at 24 Beck Street. However, in the 1950 census the Henry's address appears as 15 Fenimore. I now wonder if segments of the street were renamed at certain times. Hmm. I'm not sure but yes, Sean, 15 Beck Street (pictured below) was 15 Fenimore Ave.

My great grandfather Charles Henry built this house from a Sears Roebuck catalog kit. Some people leave behind oil paintings or framed photographs. Others leave clocks on living room walls, sturdy houses, and memories tinged, quite literally, with paint.

Charles Aloysius Henry was born on March 26, 1896, in Richmond Hill, Queens County, New York. He was the eldest child of Victor Henry (June 1874 – June 23, 1908) and Annette Hinch-Henry (February 22, 1868 – March 2, 1952), and from an early age, responsibility found him. Of the six children born into the Henry family, he was one of only three that survived to adulthood. 

• Charles Aloysius Henry (March 26, 1896 – June 14, 1949), my great grandfather
• Mary “Annie” Henry (December 8, 1897 – April 6, 1899)
• Jane Veronica Henry-Edsall (November 14, 1899 – May 19, 1982)
• Victor Henry III (July 10, 1902 – September 15, 1940)
• James Henry (June 24, 1904 – July 16, 1905)
• Robert Henry (February 7, 1906 – February 10, 1906)

Charles Henry circa 1900

Of my great grandparents, I think I look most like Charles.

At three years old, his parents buried his sister Mary "Annie" (she shows up with two names), and when Charles was 9 years-old, they buried two boys. When Charles was just twelve years old, in 1908, his father Victor committed a very scandalous murder-suicide. Overnight, Charles became more than the eldest son, he became the man of the house.  At 44, the family received a disturbing knock at the door at 15 Fenimore from local law enforcement informing them of the drowning of Charles's 38 year-old brother, Victor.

Anna and Charles in front of 15 Fenimore Ave, East Hempstead, winter 1944

During World War I, Charles served in the U.S. Army, and was stationed at Camp Gordon in Georgia. He never saw combat overseas. After the war, he returned to Queens and married Anna Marie Sauer (July 19, 1899 - May 8, 1986) on June 6, 1921 at the Gate of Heaven Roman Catholic Church in Ozone Park, Queens. Together, they began what would become a lively, busy household filled with six children, projects, and plans. A family of his own came with the need for stability and a place to put it all. In about 1945 he ordered the Sears catalog house pictured above, a prefabricated home that was shipped by railroad and then assembled by the buyer. 15 Fenimore was solid and practical, much like the man who raised it.

Richard Henry and Charles Henry in front of 15 Fenimore, Winter 1944

Anna Sauer-Henry fetching the mail. A clear shot of the house in the background, Winter 1944

You wouldn't know it today but property was large enough to support a small farm. There were vegetables, livestock, and, most memorably, goats and rabbits. Charles became president of both a goat club and a rabbit club, local organizations dedicated to self-sufficiency and health. Goat’s milk, the family believed, was superior to cow’s milk. Here is a photograph of my grandma Clare and her sister Jean grinning proudly as they hold the baby goats. 

Clare Henry-Earle and Regina "Jean" Henry-Drew with kids.

Professionally, Charles was a paint manufacturer. He rose to the rank of manager at John J. Lake & Sons, a company whose products quite literally coated the surfaces of everyday life. Paint is an odd thing when you think about it, it preserves, protects, and hides flaws. It seals wood against rot, brightens dull spaces, and gives old structures new life. The John J. Lake & Sons Company clock hung in my grandmother’s living room for decades, ticking away the hours long after Charles himself was gone. That clock still exists. It was passed down to my Uncle Allen, and is promised to be mine some day. I see it as a quiet relic of a man who spent his life making things endure.

WWII Draft Registration Card for Charles Henry, April 26, 1942

There is a cruel irony in the way Charles’s life ended. On June 14,1949, at just 53 years old, Charles died of peritoneal cancer, a rare cancer of the abdominal lining. His family believed the illness was linked to prolonged exposure to industrial paint chemicals at his job. The very materials that supported his family may have shortened his life. Charles died only months before the birth my father, his 5th grandchild.

He was buried in Holy Rood Cemetery in Westbury, New York; his work done, but his house still standing and his clock still ticking.

52 Ancestors: Week 1: "An Ancestor I Admire" - Annette "Annie" Hinch-Henry (February 22, 1868 - March 2, 1952)

I tried to do the 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks Challenge last year but the days got away from me. Instead I turned my attention to writing a series of essays on each of my direct ancestors back to, and including, my great-great grandparents. I then compiled those essays into a book to someday give to my nieces and nephew. 

I noticed that the further I went back in time the shorter the essays got. I didn't really have stories about my great-great grandparents as individuals, as opposed to my parents and grandparents who I knew and experienced things with in my life. 

So when I think about my ancestors and whom I admire most, I wonder what I really know about most of them. Do records really tell us much about a person's character? How much do  those documents really tell us about a person’s inner life, or the way they endured the events that shaped them?

That being said though, I have always thought my great-great grandmother's life story would make for a great movie, though. I've written about her before. I think Julia Roberts could play her in the movie. See the resemblance?

Annette "Annie" Hinch-Henry was born in Barnamelia, Ireland near Hackettstown, kind of close to where County Wicklow touches County Carlow.  She was born on February 22, 1868 to James Hinch (about 1816- January 29, 1886) and Jane Kavanaugh-Hinch (unknown - about 1875 in Ireland). 

James and Jane had six children: 

•     Jane Hinch (about 1859 –  unknown)
•     Hannah Hinch-Nugent (December 25,1859 – July 7, 1925)
•     Mary Hinch-Kehoe (May 10, 1864 – June 17, 1947)
•     Annette "Annie" Hinch-Henry (February 22, 1868 – March 2, 1952)
•     James Hinch (July 1, 1870 – about 1884)
•     Sarah Bridget Hinch-Stoothoff-Rhodes (June 25, 1873 – January 4, 1965).  

The Hinch family knew loss. Annie’s mother appears to have died around 1875, leaving those six children behind. Annie’s brother James, would never reach adulthood. Family lore said that young James drowned in a river. I didn't question it, but when my cousin Pete and I visited the National Archives in Dublin in 2018, the records told a much sadder story. The only death that fit was for a thirteen-year-old boy named James Hinch who didn't drown in a river but rather died in a workhouse from diphtheria on September 27, 1884. I think that is him but I am only confident that Annie left Ireland having already buried her mother and a brother.

Shortly after that boy's death, Annie’s moved across the sea. There is a passenger list that may record her arrival in New York on June 6, 1885, traveling with her father, James, and her younger sister Sarah aboard the HMS City of Chester into the Port of New York at Castle Garden. Their surname is indexed as “Hench,” and the only sibling listed is Sarah, not Annie’s older sisters, Jane and Hannah, which makes me a bit uncertain that this is them. Still, if it is them, Annie would have been seventeen when she stepped onto American soil at Castle Garden and sadly, only a few month later her father died on January 29, 1886. James Hinch is buried in St. Monica’s Cemetery in Jamaica, Queens, beside his brother Charles Hinch (about 1817 - January 24, 1895). Annie was not yet 18 years old when she buried her other parent.

Annie was 27 when she married Victor Henry II (June 1874 – June 23, 1908) on June 18, 1895 in New York. They had six children in their 13 years long marriage: 

• Charles Aloysius Henry (March 26, 1896 – June 14, 1949), my great grandfather
• Mary “Annie” Henry (December 8, 1897 – April 6, 1899)
• Jane Veronica Henry-Edsall (November 14, 1899 – May 19, 1982)
• Victor Henry III (July 10, 1902 – September 15, 1940)
• James Henry (June 24, 1904 – July 16, 1905)
• Robert Henry (February 7, 1906 – February 10, 1906)

Only three of their children lived to adulthood, Mary died as a toddler and their two youngest sons died in infancy.

Then on June 23, 1908, Annie's life shattered publicly when her husband Victor committed a very scandalous murder-suicide involving Annie’s first cousin, Mary Hinch-Cassidy (March 1862 – June 23, 1908). The details are complicated, painful, and deeply entwined branches of the Hinch and Henry families. Annie was left a widow with young children, carrying a grief that was both intense and very publicly shameful and yet, she endured.

After everything she had lost, Annie continued to give. While her children were still young, Annie took in orphans. I recall my great uncle Bobby, Annie’s grandson, speaking about one orphan in particular; Eddie Reed (August 12, 1921 – December 7, 1937) who appears in the 1930 census in Annie’s house. Eddie died while in Annie’s care and the loss just devastated her. Apparently, she had taken Eddie to the doctor complaining of abdominal pains. They performed an appendectomy on November 19, 1937. He continued to complain of pain afterwards but the doctor didn’t believe Eddie, they thought he was faking his pain to avoid school. Days later on December 7, 1937 Eddie died at Jamaica Hospital. He was just 16.

I found Edward Reed’s death certificate at the New York City Municipal Archives; Queens Death Certificate, 1937, document #8434. His mother’s name may have been Catherine Reed; his father is unknown. Anna Henry is listed as his guardian and she is buried with him at St. John Cemetery in Middle Village, Queens, New York.

I suspect that Annie received a good deal of support from her family following the death of Victor; if not financially, at least emotionally. I had heard one story in which she had to put her children into an orphanage but fought to have them returned to her when she learned they weren't being fed well. I know her sons and daughter cared deeply for their mother in her later years as well, opening their homes to her again and again. In fact, in the 1950 U.S. Federal Census, Annie was living with her then recently widowed daughter-in-law, my great grandmother, Anna Marie Sauer-Henry (July 19, 1899 – May 8, 1986) in Uniondale, Long Island, New York at 15 Fenimore Avenue; the house my grandmother grew up in. When Annie passed on March 2, 1952, though, she was living with her daughter Jane in Pearl River, New Jersey.

I don't know her voice or her laugh. Did she laugh? She must have laughed. I don't know what else could have sustained her through so much loss, but I know she crossed an ocean; buried her parents, siblings, five of her six children, and her husband; she survived scandal; opened her home to foundlings with nowhere else to go; and was remembered with love by the people who did know her. For someone I never met, I admire her a great deal for her perseverance. 

52 Ancestors Challenge Week 2: Favorite Photo: Charles Henry circa 1899.

I did the Ancestors Challenge before, back in 2022. At that time I wrote about this favorite photo. To me "favorite" means that absolute top. You only have one favorite. Right? Maybe not. I do have many many photos I love. My office bookshelves are dominated by pictures, rather than books. So to pick another "favorite" photo is challenging for me.

I am not sure if I have shared this photo in my blog before but I cherish it:

That is my great grandfather, Charles Henry (26 March 1896 - 14 June 1949). He was born on March 26, 1896 in Woodhaven, Queens County, New York to Victor Henry and Annette Hinch-Henry. 

The physical photo was given to me by my grandmother's sister, my Great Aunt Ann Henry-Cramer. I am not sure when exactly but Aunt Ann has since past. 

I was so excited to receive such a precious heirloom. Charles looks as though he's only 2, maybe 3, perhaps 4 at most. It is not a dated image so I can only assume it was taken circa 1899, around the turn of the century.

So excited, I immediately share the image via FaceBook so that family members could see it. My father's cousin, Cousin Timmy took it upon himself to lovely restore it digitally. I shared his rendition above. The image below shows the physical photo I received on the left. Look at the beautiful work Tim did.

Amazing. Right?

I never knew Charles, which is not uncommon. Most people don't know a great grandparent. Sadly, though, my father didn't get to know this grandfather of his. Charles died 6 months before my dad was born. He died from a rare form of stomach cancer on June 14, 1949.

My grandmother was convinced he developed that cancer as a result of the work he did for a paint manufacturer. I mean they were still making paint with lead back in those days.

But in this image, he's just a baby with a whole life ahead of him, no thought of marrying and having children, no less grandchildren or great grandchildren. This was also years before the scandal of his father's murder/suicide. His father, Victor Henry, committed a murder/suicide on June 23, 1908. I write about that extensively.

But Charles, that little boy there has no idea of all the life ahead of him, all the changes and challenges he will face. It's just so innocent. I love it. I hate that giant floofy bow under his chin. I would have torn that thing off instantly. How irritating. But I love it.

52 Ancestors Challenge Week 1: "Start at the Beginning" - This Year's Research Goal and Who Lured Me into This Kind of Research

My genealogy goal for this year is to write brief biographies on each of my direct ancestors back to at least my great-great grandparents.

Every summer I teach a genealogy course through a graduate program to pre-service librarians, those pursuing a masters degree in library and information science. I give them the assignment to write a brief biography on one of their ancestors, typically they choose a great grandparent. They need to use resources to substantiate names, dates, locations, and relationships in their ancestor's story. So now I am going to try it for 30 of my ancestors (2 parents, 4 grandparents, 8 great grandparents, 16 great-great grandparents). 

I have been at this genealogy thing for a long, long time now; about 40 years and it is high time that I put my work to words on paper for future generations of my family to inherit in some digestible format. I love documents but looking at a heap of them doesn't really explain what I have learned from all that I have gathered. So in addition to picking up the 52 Ancestor Challenge again, I've set my own time table to write these biographies. Basically I plan to write one every 2 weeks, give or take a day. I hope to share some of them. Although, any that includes information about the living will not make it onto my blog.

I plan to write about direct ancestors, but it isn't a direct ancestor who lured me into my genealogy research journey. I share this story often, every time I give a presentation, in fact. This is how I got started.

When I was a pre-teen, I attended a family reunion for my paternal grandfather's mother's family, the Losee Family. While we were there my paternal grandMOTHER's brother, Richie, and his wife, Jeannette showed up. I thought that odd because they weren't Losees, they were Henrys. I thought maybe the invitation was sent to extended family members as well but my grandma explained that Aunt Jeanette was born a Losee. That kind of blew my mind and I couldn't quite get my head around it. How were we related? At the time, neither my Grandpa Earle or Aunt Jeannette couldn't explain the connection. And that is what began my research. I had to figure out how Aunt Jeanette was related to Grandpa Earle.

To make the matter even more puzzling, I asked my grandmother who introduced who to their current spouse. "Oh no," she replied and proceeded to tell me that it was after she had married my grandpa that her brother Richie got engaged to Aunt Jeannette. Grandma's parents threw them an engagement party at the Henry home so that everyone could meet Jeannette. While there Grandpa asked Jeannette her last name. When Jeannette replied "Losee" my grandpa stated his mother's maiden name was Losee.

Now this reunion was back before the Internet so my research process began with a trip to the Freeport Memorial Library in Freeport, New York with the knowledge that the Losees had lived in Freeport for a very long time. While there my grandmother and I were taken into what they called the Memorial Room and up on the wall there was a plaque explaining that the library was a memorial to those in the community who had died in the American Civil War. Among the names was Benjamin F. Losee. 

After resolving that Grandpa and Jeanette were second cousins, they had great grandparents in common, I was then lured into figuring out who Benjamin F. Losee was and how I was related to him. (He's my great-great-great grandfather's brother, by the way.)

If you have been doing genealogy research for any period of time you know first hand that once you resolve the answer to one question, several more pop up. It is a never ending quest to piece together a puzzle that has no edges.

But Where in Ireland? Answer Buried in Records

In 2018 I traveled to Belgium to attend a friend's wedding. Afterwards, my cousin Peter and I spend 10 days driving around Ireland and Northern Ireland. Peter and I share Irish ancestors but we also have Irish ancestors on other branches of our separate family trees.

I loved Ireland. I especially loved the natural beauty of Northern Ireland. Being there did somehow make me feel closer to my Irish ancestors even though, like many Americans with Irish ancestry, I don't know exactly where most of my Irish ancestors were from. Once most immigrants arrived in the U.S. they didn't identify themselves by the town they came from, just the country.

On my paternal grandmother's side I know my great-great grandmother, Annette Hinch-Henry came from Barnamelia and Hackettstown, in County Wicklow. Also on dad's side, I know my Hughes came from Liscolman, Clonmore, again, in County Wicklow and my Grays came from County Cavan. 

My mom's side is more elusive and they suffer from very common Irish surnames; Joyce, Kelley, O'Neill, and Fay. Their U.S. records just record their place of birth as Ireland. No towns, no counties, just Ireland. Even if I may not have been in my ancestors' exact footsteps, I felt very at home in Ireland.

Years later, in 2021, suffering from the wanderlust caused by the Covid-19 world health crisis, I set about visiting the graves of my direct ancestors in this sort of cemetery marathon on which I dragged my cousin Peter. Actually for one cemetery visit I dragged both Cousin Peter and Cousin Ashlee all the way to Dayton, Ohio. I wrote about that adventure in this blog post: https://diggingupthedirtonmydeadpeople.blogspot.com/2021/06/third-great-grandpa-john-joyce-dayton.html 

Prior to that visit to the grave of my third great grandfather, John A. Joyce, I ordered his military pension file from the National Archives and Records Administration (NARA) in Washington D.C. In fact, I ordered the file on April 22, 2021. I made that trip to Dayton in June 2021. In November 2021 I finally received John's file; a 89 page pdf related to his military service as a First Class Boy in the U.S. Navy during the Mexican-American War. It took more than 6 months to obtain the file.

Now if you are like me, you don't know much about the Mexican-American War; but you see that word Navy and you feel all queasy - sea sickness sets in, right? It does for me. I have so many seafaring souls in my gene pool but any body of water makes me a little green. Ugh, I can't with the boats, people!

Anyway, John was in the Navy. He enlisted January 19, 1846. 1846!! His whole military service was a surprise to me really but I did not expect him to be in the U.S. before the potato famine.

Ireland suffered the famine between 1845 and 1852. It was a period of starvation, disease, death, and immense emigration. The poor were leaving Ireland in droves for America where they had the hope of not starving to death. Often Americans refer to their Irish immigrants who came during that period as Famine Irish. John enlisting in U.S. Navy in January 1846, that was pretty early on in the Great Famine, so it's likely my Joyces were pre-Famine Irish immigrants; that they arrived in the U.S. before 1845. 

Another great surprise is that John enlisted in the Navy in Philadelphia, PA. Philadelphia! My people are all New Yorkers. Philadelphia? Really? So this has put me on the path of searching for John, and perhaps his parents, yet unknown to me, immigrating through Philadelphia rather than New York. We'll see if I can find anything now that I have that lead.

The most amazing discovery in John's pension file, though, was the name of the county in Ireland where he was born. Yup! On page 24 of the 89 page pdf, at the bottom of the page it states "...born at ___, in the County of Armath, and State of Ireland..." Now Armath has to be County Armagh because there is no Armath. 

County Armagh is one of the six counties of Northern Ireland and one of the traditional thirty-two counties of Ireland. I don't think Peter and I drove through Armagh though. The closest we would have gotten would probably have been Banbridge on route between Belfast and Dublin. Guess I gotta go back!

A Visit to My Patriot

This past March, my cousin Pete and I ventured up to Vermont to visit his aunt. On our way home, we stopped into Forest Hill Cemetery, in East Derry, New Hampshire, where my Moor/Moore ancestors are interred. The Moores are on my maternal side, not the side I share with Cousin Pete but he happily joins me on a lot of my cemetery jaunts. In fact we did a cemetery marathon which you can hear more about in this presentation I did for Allen County Public Library's Genealogy Center, called Victor Henry's Headstone: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nw53oHpcfgA

Anyway...

My great-great-great grandmother, Annie Moore-Sharp (About 1782 - January 14, 1868) was born in this area of New Hampshire. She died in St. Felix-de-Kingsey, Quebec, Canada. 

Her father, my 4th great grandfather, William Moore (About 1763 – July 1817), and her mother, Eleanor Moore-Moore (About 1767 – October 19, 1836), were also born in New Hampshire and died in Quebec. 

Yes, Eleanor's maiden name was also Moore. She and her husband, William, were actually first cousins. Yeah, grosses me out too but whatever... They were the grandchildren on John Moor (About 1683 - January 24, 1774) and Janet Gray-Moor (About 1687 - March 8, 1776). Actually, I am not confident about Janet's maiden name. She may have been a Cochrane. Both she and John were said to be born in Antrim County, Northern Ireland, making them my European immigrant ancestors on this line of my family tree. They arrived in the New World from Northern Ireland in about 1724.

Eleanor was the daughter of Colonel Daniel Moore (February 11, 1730 - April 13, 1811). William was the son of Lieutenant Colonel Robert Moore (May 26, 1726 -  October 25, 1778).  Daniel and Robert were brothers who served in the American Revolution. 5th great grandpa, Robert, is buried in this Forest Hill Cemetery along with his wife, parents, and several children. His brother, Colonel Daniel is buried in Old Bedford Cemetery in Bedford, New Hampshire about 15 miles northwest of East Derry.

Back in June of 2012, when I first discovered these patriots in my family tree, I had some dear friends of mine visit this cemetery to look for my family's headstones for me. An odd request, as I tend to do cemetery visits for myself but it just so happened that at the time my friends, Andrea and Laszlo, were visiting his parents who lived in, guess where? That's right!  Derry, NH. What the heck, right? Such a small world that these friends had family in a town that my family helped to settle.

That's right, my ancestors helped to settle Derry, NH. In April 1719, sixteen Presbyterian Scotch-Irish families settled there. Then known as Nutfield, the settlement became Londonderry in 1722, shortly before my Moores arrived. Then in 1827 it became Derry. The Moores arrived there in about 1727, only a few short years after their arrival on this continent. One reason the settlement is noteworthy is that in the first year, 1719, a field was planted, known as Common Field, where it is said that the first potato was grown in North America. Nom, nom, nom!

East Derry was also home to Alan Shepard, yup, first American to travel into space. Anyway... we were in East Derry. Well, we were AT East Derry; my ancestors are IN East Derry...buried in it.

Initially, my friends weren't so sure they'd be able to find the graves of my ancestors. Sometimes it does take a lot of time to find graves in a cemetery, especially if it lacks a directory or someone on the staff present to help you find the headstone.

Nine out of 10 times my relatives don't even have headstones. They were generally poor people who couldn't afford stones. In any case, Andrea and Laszlo were kind of astonished that the headstones from the late 1700s were still there. I was kind of astonished that they were astonished. In Hungary, though, where Andrea and Laszlo were raised, gravesites must be financially maintained by the family in order to stay intact. A very foreign concept to Americans who own their family plots for perpetuity.

In any case, Andrea and Laszlo found my family's graves right away because they are the very first grave as you come through the cemetery's main gate. They had told me that but I didn't quite believe it until I visited and sure enough - they haven't moved. My 6th great grandparents, John Moor (About 1683 - January 24, 1774) and Janet Moor (About 1687 - March 8, 1776), are the first grave as you come through the gate.

John's headstone of the left reads:

HERE LYES THE BODY

OF MR JOHN MOOR

HE DEPARTED THIS 

LIFE JAN 24 1774

AGE 91 YEARS

Janet's headstone on the right reads:

HERE LYES THE BODY

OF MRS JENIT MOOR

WED TO MR JOHN MOOR

SHE DIED MARCH

THE 8TH 1776 IN

THE 89TH YEAR OF

HER AGE

Not far from them lies their son Lt. Col. Robert Moore (May 22, 1724 - October 25, 1778), my 5th great grandfather:

My 7th great grandfather's headstone, Samuel Moor (1655 - 1734), also known as Charter Samuel Moor I:

You can see Samuel was born in Argyll, Scotland and his son, John, above, was born in Northern Ireland. The family was part of the Clan McDonald of Glencoe. In fact, Samuel's nephew, Charter John Moore II (February 13, 1692 - 1741), not to be confused with Samuel's son John, is said to be born on the night of the infamous Massacre of Glencoe; the same night his father, also named John Moor, was slaughtered. So yeah, 7th great grandpa Samuel had a brother, son, and nephew, all named John Moor. Not real creative with the names, these Moors, which makes for some real confusion in one's research.

This is Charter John Moore II's headstone, first cousin to my 6th great grandfather John Moor:

You can tell the stone above is a modern day headstone. I assume it replaced an older stone or maybe it was never marked at all.

 

Below is the headstone of my 7th great grandmother, Mary Partridge-Moor (1660 - 1733), wife of "Charter" Samuel Moor 1:

I like her flying skull. Classic iconography of the time. Also called "death's head", it is thought to symbolize one's physical death and their spiritual regeneration.

There are actually about 80 Moors and Moores listed on FindAGrave buried in Forest Hill Cemetery. I am sure most, if not all of them are connected in some way. I'd love to examine the cemetery closer and unpuzzle the connection between them all, especially those buried so close together in the oldest section of the cemetery. Maybe some day I'll have the time to do that. Time is fleeting though, isn't it? Isn't that what cemeteries remind us?

Sadly, my friends' father-in-law/step-father, who they had been visiting in East Derry back in 2012, passed away in October 2016. He too is buried in this cemetery, not far from where my Moors are. So I got to visit his grave as well. I love that Michael is so close to my family. Just feels right. 
 

The Sticky Wicket of Bringing DNA into your Bag of Genealogy Tools

Everyone should enter these tests with caution. Maybe you just want that silly "piechart" of ethnicity estimates but, if you ask me, its not really worth that. I personally think they are junk. They are just estimates that will indeed change over time and from company to company as each company increases their data pools and refines their algorithms. They mean very little. Unless of course you get some large quantity of unexpected ethnicity, which may be an indication that your family isn't who you think they are.

Just as you can discover unpleasant truths in your genealogy record research, using DNA in your research can be a disarming and potentially painful experience. Maybe you won't suffer major surprises in your DNA results but it is likely that hidden in your tree is an unknown offspring of some relative.

That being said there is a great deal to be gained by adding the tool of direct-to-consumer DNA to your toolkit.

Few Surprises to Me

Of the 150+ DNA matches of mine and my father's that I have linked into my Ancestry family tree, few were much of a surprise. Mine and my father's, you ask. Yes. Whereas all of my father's DNA matches are individuals who belong in my family tree, I do not match all the people he matches to.

That can be a hard concept for newbies to get but I only got half my DNA from my father. So some of his DNA that I didn't get are the bits that connect him to some of his distant matches. He matches them, I don't, but they are my relatives just the same.

I personally know my top 28 matches. I mean, like I have met them in-person, in real life, long before DNA tests were available to the public; I have their phone numbers. I KNOW them.

My first "surprise" was a third cousin match at 41 centimorgans (cMs). She had a family tree linked to her DNA. It was sparse but when I looked at it, I immediately recognized her great grandmother, listed just as "Elizabeth" as my great grandfather's sister. I knew who Elizabeth was because my match had Elizabeth's husband's full name listed. I knew my Elizabeth married that man and thus, Elizabeth was OUR Elizabeth

I decided to reach out to my match and tell her that I knew her great grandmother's maiden name and had a whole bunch of research done on the Earles of Twillingate, Newfoundland. My match wrote back and said that was great because... she was adopted. 

I wasn't shocked in a shattering way but rather felt good that I could contribute to her effort to know her biological family history.

Breaking Through Brick Walls

DNA has also helped me to break through a nagging research brick wall that I had. 

For the longest time I didn't really know my third great grandmother's maiden name. I know, unbelievable, right? (I say in jest). I know that this is very common. Women's maiden names can be hard to track down. Such is life in a patriarch.

One year, it may have been in 2010, I set the goal of trying to put a name to each of my third great grandparents. For my father's maternal line, I could trace back to a man named Victor Henry born in about 1838 in Switzerland and who died in Queens County, New York on November 9, 1896. His wife's name was Mary. Her maiden name was something like Carrion; which is actually a word that means the decaying flesh of dead animals. Lovely. But I knew that name was not correct because, 1. I had seen is spelled a dozen different ways, and 2. because of this notation on Mary's death certificate:

It reads: Could not ascertain Mother's Maiden name - August Henry

August was her son and the informant providing details to the medical examiner about Mary.

I knew Carrion was not correct.

Flash forward to receiving my DNA results in mid-November 2013. I really didn't know all the benefits of using DNA as a genealogy research tool then. Now I can handle results in a systematic way to decipher relationships and connections but back then I was just scrolling through matches and randomly poking around in peoples' family trees. I came across a tree that had all this old Long Island family names. Thus I assumed the match was through my paternal grandfather who's maternal line settled on Long Island in the 1630s. As I got to the bottom of the tree though I saw the name Joseph Carillion. Carillion. Hmm. I had seen that name before. Yes, on August Henry's marriage certificate, his witness was Harry Carillion. And when I had first seen his marriage record I recalled researching Harry suspecting that perhaps he was a cousin. Carrion. Carillion. They sound a lot alike. I couldn't make a connection back in late 2011.

Once I had seen this match in my DNA results though, I reached out to the individual who managed the DNA kit and received a lot of information and was finally able to solidify that Mary's maiden name was indeed Carillion. Harry was her nephew. August and Harry were first cousins. Since my match was descended from Mary's brother, there wasn't that patriarchal name changing business that I had to deal with.

Finding Mary's maiden name allowed me to find much more documentation for the family and deepen my understanding of that line's family history.

...But Not All Discoveries for Everyone are Happy Discoveries.

Now that I have a decade of dealing with my own DNA results, I am confident helping others decipher their results. 

I volunteer to help people track down their bio-dads or birth parents; the term most commonly used for this is search angel. The experience has resulted in a mixed bag of emotions. 

• I have had to tell a man who was nearly 50 years-old that he was adopted.
• I've had to tell people that the man they know as their father is not their biological father.
• I've had birth fathers tell me to go away.
• I've had a Vietnam veteran have to tell his children that there was a newly discovered sibling from his time in the service; and they were all good with it.
  
• I've confirmed suspicious for a woman that her father was not her bio-father which only deepened the schism between her and her mother. The lies and the denial, unfathomable
• I have had to tell donor conceived sisters that they were not full biological siblings despite what the sperm bank told their mother.

And sometimes people don't have high enough matches to determine who their birth parents were and unfortunately, I can't tell them much of anything.

In general, everyone should enter these tests with caution. Maybe you won't suffer major surprises but, again, it is likely that hidden in your tree is an unknown offspring of some relative and perhaps you will be placed in the middle of a uncomfortable situation.

Often the uncomfortable situation has very little if anything to do with you. You are just the waypoint for another to learn their truth. 

Another Remarkable Yearbook Find

I actually discover this a few months back and posted about it on FaceBook but didn't blog about it. It's one of the coolest genealogy finds I've had in recent days. On May 6, 2022, I came across another beautiful yearbook entry in Ancestry's online  yearbook collection. 

It was in my paternal grandmother's high school yearbook. There were many pictures of my grandma, Clare Henry-Earle, in there but here is her portrait. Oh that's not the cool part, though. I had seen this photo before.

She was very active in high school. She was in a sorority, student council, performed in a play, and played the flute in the marching band. You can't see her in the band photo below though.

She is little, under 5'. At her full height I think she hit 4'9". At 93 years old today she has shrunk some since high school; which, if you ask me is criminal. If my 4'9" Nanny has to lose any inches, you 6' folks out there should have to lose a foot, at least, but I digress. As she played the flute, so she's somewhere in the middle of a band photo where flute players assemble. Oh but the band wasn't really the cool part either. This was...

...she signed this yearbook!! 

"Best of luck to a swell kid. Love, Clare"

Which ever classmate's yearbook Ancestry got a hold of and digitized, my grandmother signed it. That is unmistakably my Grandma Clare's handwriting! Very cool.

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 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!