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 30: "Teams" - Writing with Cousin Mary

Recently, my Cousin Mary and I have committed to work together to contribute a column about genealogy research to a family newsletter, called The Raynor Shine, put out by the Raynor Family Association. Mary and I are 6th cousins once removed. Our common ancestors are descendants of Edward Raynor (1624 - 1685).

Edward Raynor set sail for the New World from Ipswich, England in April of 1634 aboard a ship called the Elizabeth. He was just 10 years old at the time. Orphaned, he came to the New World with his uncle, Thurston Raynor and his wife, Elizabeth, and their 5 children; Thurston, Joseph, Elizabeth, Sarah, and Lidia. There was another minor traveling with this family, Elizabeth Kemball of whom I know nothing. There were other Kemball families aboard the same ship but Elizabeth (age 13) is listed as a ward of Thurston Raynor the elder.

The Raynors first settled in Watertown, Massachusetts, then Wethersfield and Stamford, Connecticut before heading to Hempstead, Long Island, New York in 1644. Edward is noted as one of the original settlers of Hempstead. He was a large landowner, credited with settling the area now known as the Village of Freeport in Nassau County in 1659. At one time the area was known as Raynortown. He died in about December 1685 or January 1686

Cousin Mary and my most recent common ancestors are Jacob Raynor (unknown - March 1829) and his wife Rebecca Raynor-Raynor (June 10, 1769 - February 14, 1855). That's right Raynor-Raynor. Enter endogamy; the custom or constraint of marrying within the limits of a local community, clan, or tribe. Rebecca was a Raynor who married a Raynor. Aside from spouses, I am unsure of the relationship between Jacob and Rebecca but they were likely cousins of some ilk. The Raynors were a big Long Island family. We aren't exactly sure who Jacob's parents were but Rebecca was the great-great granddaughter of the aforementioned Edward Raynor.

Mary and I have teamed up on many occasions to research potential parents for Jacob. It's so hard to sort out when the region was so densely populated with Raynors. And Jacob is not exactly a unique first name. There were dozens of Jacob Raynors in the area of relatively the same age. And to date, no other Raynor family researcher has been able to show me a source stating my Jacob's parentage. Oh sure there are trees out there naming his parents but are they documented? NO. And to some extent I'd be okay with that if the tree maker told me their source. Did grandma tell you that? Did you read it in some book? Just tell me where ya got that from but NOoooo.

So I am hoping Mary and I can use our column to help our Raynor cousins to do some quality research and share their sources. I am looking forward to the experience of co-authoring with one of my favorite genealogical finds; Cousin Mary.

52 Ancestors Challenge Week 29: "Fun Facts" - A list of 10

Here are some fun facts I have in my family history:

1. My parents grew up next door to each other. 

That's not an expression. They literally lived next door to each other.

2. I come from a long line of seafaring men yet just looking at the ocean can make me seasick. 

Both my grandpas served in the navy in WWI. My great grandpa, Abram Earle (January 13, 1891 - November 18, 1973) started building his own boat. His father, my great-great grandfather, Abraham Earle (About 1849 - Fall 1890), died at sea abroad a ship called The Rise and Go in Newfoundland. Abraham's father-in-law, my 3rd great grandfather, Reuben Samms (About 1830 - October 7, 1869), also died at sea during a seal hunt. Another of my 3rd great grandfathers, John M. Losee (August 17, 1841 - February 10, 1918), had a brother, Leander L. Losee (November 8, 1846 - April 23, 1917), who served in the Navy during the American Civil War and was captain of a life saving station along the south shore of Long Island. And yet another 3rd great grandpa, John Aloysius Joyce (February 11, 1829 - September 30, 1910), served in the U.S. Navy during the Mexican-American War (mid-1840s) at 16 years-old as a cabin boy on the U.S.S. Potomac. Boat people! I'm queasy just writing this.

3.  My family has multiple children born on their parent's birthday. 

My grandmother was married on her 20th birthday and then had her 3rd child on the same date 5 years later, February 27. That son's ex-wife had their second child on her birthday, June 2. My grandma's brother, Robert, had his first child on his birthday, October 21.

4. My mother, my paternal aunt, and my step-mother were all in the same graduating class at the same high school.

5. My father's sister married his best friend from high school. 

6. Both my brother-in-laws were best friends in high school too. 

And get this, those boys when to the same high school as mom, Aunt Jane, and my step-mom.

7. I have a pair of aunts who married brothers.

Also, my great-great grandmother, Flora Smith-Losee (Mar 1875 - September 1, 1920), and her a sister, Melinda Smith-Losee (November 1, 1869 - August 19, 1955) married brothers; John M. Losee Jr. (March 25, 1870 - May 24, 1940) and Oliver Combs Losee (May 3, 1868 - February 10, 1937), respectively.

8. I have two 5th great grandfathers who served in the American Revolution; Colonel Daniel Moore (February 11, 1730 - April 13, 1811) and Lieutenant Colonel Robert Moore (May 22, 1724 - October 27, 1778).

And... they were brothers whose children married. Yeah my 4th great grandfather, William Moore (1763 - July 1817), and 4th great grandmother, Eleanor Moore (1767 - October 19, 1836), were 1st cousins.

9. William and Eleanor Moore helped settled the area of St. Felix-de-Kingsey, Quebec, Canada in 1803.

"Settler" is just a term for people showing up and building a house, typically to colonize the area and thus, typically European white people were settlers.

10. I descend from the man who settled Freeport, Long Island in 1659; Edward Raynor (1624 - 1685). 

52 Ancestors Challenge Week 12: "Joined Together" - Meeting Cousins

I suppose this week's theme of "Joined Together" is supposed to cause me to reflect on marriages in my family history but the cynic in me only makes me think of the many divorces I see in my family history. In effort to be uplifting in my posts, I'd rather write about something that makes me happy; meeting cousins.

I have many known cousins to begin. I am one of 9 first cousins on my mother's side and one of 10 first cousins on my dad's side; subtracting siblings from the mix, I have 12 first cousins in all. However, I have acquired so many distant cousins since doing online genealogy research and especially since doing an AncestryDNA test back in November of 2013. Some of them I communicate with for only a brief time, exchanging information to enhance our respective family trees. Others I have communicated with sporadically for years and years.

There are so many that I can't possibly list them all. I'll highlight a couple of them though. These are ones I have acquired strictly through genealogy research...

The One Who Has Been Around the Longest: Cousin Mary

Cousin Mary is my father's 6th cousins and thus my 6th cousin once removed. We have my 6th great grandparents in common; the elusive Jacob Raynor (unknown - March 1829) & Rebecca Raynor-Raynor (June 10, 1769 - February 14, 1855). That's right. You read that correctly, Rebecca Raynor-Raynor.

We have deep Long Island roots that reach back to the settlement of Freeport, New York which at one time was known as Raynortown. One might think Raynor is not a common surname but at that time, in that place, there were SO many Raynors. I am sure Jacob and Rebecca were cousins of some ilk but both Mary and I struggle to confirm Jacob's parents.

I honestly can't remember how long ago Cousin Mary and I met, maybe since 2005-ish, but we have "joined together" on many occasions. We have done a few research trips, attended a conference, and did a genealogy presentation together. We met back when Ancestry showed you other users who had connected to the same records.

I recall being quite dismayed when we did not match on AncestryDNA though. I thought for sure I had made some research error and that Mary was not my cousin after all. Oh, I was so sad but I was quite relieved when it turned out that, although my father and I do not match Mary, my 2 uncles do. It proved that it is possible to have no genetic match with distant cousins.

It is about 2 years ago now that another researching cousin on our line passed away. Recently, Cousin Mary and I accepted the generous honor of inheriting that cousin's boxes of resources. We also recently planned to attend another conference together in June. Can't wait!

Thus, Cousin Mary and I have "joined together" in many research endeavors. She is one of  my best genealogical finds.

The Non-Genealogist Genealogy Acquired Cousin: Cousin Chris

Cousin Chris is not a genealogist. He and I are 3rd cousins on my mother side. This is the side of the family that I really don't have many strong bonds with so it is nice to have cousins on that side turn up. 

Cousin Chris and I have our great-great grandparents in common; Damas Desjardin, also known as Thomas Gardner (October 9, 1850 - October 2, 1911) and Malvina Ethier-Desjardins (February 2, 1864 - January 6, 1944). I met Chris by way of his brother, Cousin Robert, who is the genealogist. However, I have never met Cousin Robert. He posted a question to a message board a long time ago, around 2009, and then put me in touch with his siblings via FaceBook.

At the time Chris kindly extended an invitation stating, "If you're ever in Minnesota..." Well guess what, my constant road companion Cousin Pete and I were off to Minnesota in the summer of 2015. Cousin Chris (who is no relation to Cousin Pete, by the way) put us up in his home for 4 days, no questions asked. His beautiful wife and fabulous kids were so welcoming. The little cousins, gave up their beds for us. By the end of our stay Cousin Chris inquired, "Um, how are we related?" Needless to say Pete and I have been back to visit Cousin Chris and his family several times. In fact, this past summer we met up with them in Philly and stayed in the worst AirBnB I've ever stayed in in my life. Cousins made it tolerable.

The Not Quite Sure How We Are Related Cousin: Cousin Tim

A little over a year ago I received an Ancestry Message from Cousin Tim stating that he had been looking at his cousin's DNA matches and discovered I managed a few of the test with whom he matched, my father's and one of my uncles. They are distant DNA matches and originally we thought perhaps it was a connection to the Hinch family of Hacketstown, Ireland but then again, it could be through the Hughes family of Liscolman, Ireland. Either way both are in Wicklow Co. and on Grandma Earle's line. We're related somehow. I hope some day we can figure it out. Either way though, we're still cousins.

The Cousin Who Made Me Jealous by Getting to Visit Our Ancestral Homeland: Cousin Carol

Those of you who know me in real-life, you likely know that I am a ferocious road-tripper. I have been to all 50 states and all the provinces of Canada with the exception of Nunavut. Aside from Canada though, I haven't done much travel outside of the U.S. Cousin Carol has been to the most "exotic" of all my ancestral homelands though, the Czech Republic. My ethnicity pie chart reflects 99% European, most of which is from the British Isles and Ireland, thus Central European seems exotic to me.

Cousin Carol and I are 3rd cousins once removed, meaning she and my mother have my 3rd great grandparents in common; Jan Prinz (May 14, 1826 - May 22, 1888) and Franzisca Preuss-Prinz (November 17, 1830 - November 29, 1902) who were from Mladá Vožice, in Southern Bohemia, which is now the Czech Republic.

After years of researching our shared ancestral line, in the summer of 2013 she had the opportunity to visit the Czech Republic with her husband to celebrate their 40th wedding anniversary. They hired personal, professional tour guides who arranged ancestral tour and provided genealogical research which included meetings with village and church historians. Not only did they get to travel the roads our ancestors would have traveled, they got to visit the church where my great-great grandfather was baptized and had the privilege to ring the church bell which had been cast in 1491.

Even though we did not "join together" for that trip [JEALOUS], I did live vicariously through her and asked her to guest blog about her travels for me.

The Fancy Meeting You Here Cousin: Cousin Sylvain

In June of 2018, I had a second opportunity to visit Twillingate, Newfoundland, my Earle family's ancestral homeland. I had a truly astonishing genealogical discover then. I have written about the experience before but it still overwhelms me when I think about it. 

In brief, Twillingate is where my great grandfather, Abram Thomas Earle, was born in January 1891 on Farmers Arm which is on the Durrell side of Twillingate. On my second visit I went with my Uncle Tom. We stayed in a magnificent AirBnB called The Pumpkin House located right on Farmers Arm Road. One of the homeowners, Charlie, had recently purchased another house just a few doors down from Pumpkin House on the same road. 

One day he invited us down to his new house to show us his deed. It clearly shows a survey conducted by Thomas Peyton who was once the local magistrate and was the father of Edgar Peyton; the brother-in-law of my great grandfather and thus my uncle's great uncle. 

It turns out that Charlie's property was once owned by John Earle. Yup an Earle! The deed also indicated the land was once owned by the Late William Earle who, one would assume is the father of John, the aforementioned land owner. William Earle was my great grandfather's uncle. My gut tells me that my great grandfather was born on Charlie's land.

But it gets crazier. While Uncle Tom and Charlie poked around in one of the old structures on the property, I chatted with Charlie's friend, Sylvain. Our conversation went a little like this.

April: "So do you live here year round?"

Sylvain: "No, I live in Montreal."

April: "Oh, that's where my mom's side is from. My father's side is from here in Twillingate but my mom's side has deep roots in Montreal."

Sylvain: "I have ancestors who were early settlers in Montreal. What's the family name?"

April: "It would have been Desjardins." 

And Sylvain froze. This very blank expression came across his face and he slowly said, "My mother's maiden name is Desjardins."

Turns out Sylvain is Cousin Sylvain. He and I have my 9th great grandfather in common; Claude Jourdain Desjardins Charbonnier (1636 - about 1704-1711).

Crazy stuff; to not only find my father's family homeland but to meet a maternal cousin on that land - kind of crazy! By the way, my mother and father grew up next door to each other.

Since meeting, Cousin Sylvian has helped me with finding some information about our Montreal roots. Lovely man.

The Most Recently Acquired: Cousin Kristen

Just before Christmas 2021, I got in touch with a new DNA match, Cousin Kristen. She too is a cousin on my mother's side. Again, I have so few strong connection of that side that I am always excited by the potential for new relationships there.

Just recently we met in-person for the first time. We talked as though we were old friends catching up. I hope that such visits will become common place for us.

At this first visit, Cousin Kristen gave me a ring her and her mother chose for me a limited number of family heirlooms. She joked about proposing to me with it. I haven't taken it off.

Ethel's Citizenship

There was a period in U.S. history that if a natural born U.S. woman married a foreign man, she lost her U.S. citizenship. 

It's true!

Starting on March 2, 1907, an American woman, by birth or naturalization, lost her citizenship when she married an alien. She thereby took on his nationality. She could regain her U.S. citizenship if and when her husband naturalized. His naturalization required a total of 5 years residency in the U.S. including 1 year of residency in the state of application and 2 years between his declaration of intent to naturalize and the submission of his naturalization petition.

On September 22, 1922 the Cable Act was passed. This Act made it so that women could no longer be naturalized through derivative citizenship; meaning that she herself had to apply for her own citizenship. She didn't just get it automatically when her alien husband naturalized. 

It also made it so women no longer lost their U.S. citizenship just because she married an alien. However, the women who had previously lost their citizenship due to marrying an alien were only made eligible to naturalized. They didn't just get it back. They had to go through the process of applying for citizenship.

On June 25, 1936, it changed again so that women who were native born U.S. citizens that lost their citizenship due to marriage an foreign man prior to September 22, 1922 could be considered a citizen again if she took the oath of allegiance AND her marriage was terminated by either death or divorce of her spouse. So in other words, she could be come a citizen on her own as long as that guy wasn't her husband anymore.

It wasn't until July 2, 1940 that those women who lost their citizenship through marriage between 1907 and 1922 could be considered a citizen again. She still had to take the oath of allegiance, but it didn't matter if her husband was dead or alive anymore, she could do it on her own. The one caveat being that she had to resided in U.S. for the duration of the marriage.

So that brings me to my great grandmother, Ethel Mae Losee-Earle. Ethel was born on St. Valentine's Day, 1896 in Freeport, Long Island, New York, where 8 previous generations had all been born after her 7th great grandfather, Edward Raynor settled the area in the mid 1600s.

By all accounts, Ethel never left Long Island. Maybe she ventured into Manhattan or up to New England for some excursion but she never traveled abroad. 

On June 5, 1915, she married Abram Thomas Earle in Freeport. Abram was born in Twillingate, Newfoundland which at the time of his birth was a British colony. Newfoundland only became a province of Canada on March 31, 1949. So when Ethel married Abe, she too became a British citizen. She had never been there. Never planned to even visit. Yet, she was no longer an American.

Now maybe in 1915 that didn't seem like a big deal but I wonder how she felt in 1920 when American women were finally able to vote and she couldn't.

Until very recently I had no reason to believe Abe had ever naturalized. I believed wholeheartedly that he had died a British citizen. Although, I don't know what becomes of your citizenship status when your place of birth changes its status like Newfoundland did by joining Canada in 1949. When Abe died in 1973 would he have been considered British or Canadian?

Ugh, well I don't have to answer that because, lookie here:

Abe naturalized on January 10, 1925, before my grandfather Ed was born in August of that year.

And guess what - - So did Ethel.

I was so happy to see her Certificate of Naturalization. I find the whole business of one loosing her citizenship so shameful. As if marrying someone outside of your national origin is a sign of disloyalty to your nation.

Love is love, people.

First Stop: St. Michael's Cemetery, East Elmhurst - Johan and Sabina Prinz

We did it! Cousin Pete and I did my cemetery marathon this past Saturday, April 24, 2021. We hit 6 cemeteries, and ate a lengthy lunch, in a total of 6 hours 17 minutes. A bit wacky but we did it.

Our first stop was St. Michael's Cemetery in East Elmhurst, Queens which is just a hop, skip, and a jump from where Peter lives. Cousin Pete actually lives in walking distance of where my grandma grew up - my grandma on my mom's side, not Pete's grandma. Pete and I are related through our father's lineage. Anyway, Pete was kind enough to accompany to graves of my mother's side as well.

I have a history with St. Michael's. Many years ago when I first went looking for the burial location of my great-great grandparents, Johan Nepom Prinz (2 May 1854 - 21 April 1929) and Sabina "Lena" Krantzel-Prinz (17 June 1860 - 25 April 1926), I was told I had to pay them for that information. Outraged, I wandered that cemetery looking for a potential burial location; unsuccessfully of course. It is a big cemetery!

This time around when I called for a plot location, they kindly gave me that information over the phone. However, I didn't know my way around the cemetery  despite all the time I spent walking around in there in the past. When we entered the cemetery, we didn't see a sign with a map on it, so we went to the cemetery's office. We were helped by a very nice woman who provided us with a paper map and showed the route to take to get to Grave 11 - Range 85 - Plot 6.

Johan and Lena are interred in this grave with their daughter Margaret Prinz-Kamm (5 October 1886 - 14 December 1915) who died in childbirth when she was just 29 years old.

When Peter and I were wandering around Plot 6, a cemetery worker driving an excavator noticed us and asked if we needed help. He came down from his machine and measured out where the actually plot would be, stating that their graves are 30" wide.

So this is them. Look familiar? Yeah, my people almost never have a headstone. 

Looking at this patch of earth the worker commented that he had been working for the cemetery for 35 years. When he first started out some of the old time employees had told him that sometime in the 1970s, some of the headstones were buried. Occasionally, they still get requests to dig up the interred stones. Frequently those stones are broken in the process. 

Is this the first time you are hearing of this? 

I wish I could say I have never heard of this before but in fact, I have. There is a "park" in Hempstead, New York in which my 6th great grandparents are interred; Jacob and Rebecca Raynor. The Hempstead Old Town Burial Ground had fallen into such disrepair that the Town decided to level it. A few headstones stand in a far off corner of the Old Town "Park" but it is not at all a park, its a cemetery. The Town buried the old headstones over the graves and now it's a pretty lawn.

Lovely, just freakin' lovely.

Now I don't know if this is true of Johan and Lena's headstone. I suspect they never had a stone because that is just how it is in my family. Or maybe there are more stones out there then I think. Stay tuned for posts on my other 5 cemetery visits from Saturday.

Great Grandma Mayme Sharp-Gardner in Union Cemetery, Sayville, New York.

On Saturday, April 3, 2021, I visited the grave of my great grandma, Mayme Sharp-Gardner. This side of my family has always provided me more questions than answers. I know Mayme died on January 25, 1961 in Sarasota, Florida and is buried on Long Island in Union Cemetery in Sayville, NY. She was 69 years old when she died, having been born Mary Elizabeth Sharp near Sherebrooke, Quebec, Canada on September 2, 1891 to Lydia Marie McLean-Sharp and Daniel Sharp. I know this because after my grandfather died in 2005, my Aunt Nancy, who has also since passed, was cleaning otu grandpa's house and came across some family papers. She sent those documents to me. They inclued Mayme's obituary and death certificate.

I don't know what Mayme was doing in Sarasota. I am certain she lived in Patchogue, Long Island at the time of her death. I don't know why she is buried in Union Cemetery - her husband is in Calvary Cemetery in Queens, New York and her infant daughter, May, is in Cedar Grove Cemetery. I don't know how she even met her husband. She married Albert Gardner (a.k.a. Almond Desjardins) on September 5, 1922 in Manhattan, NY. According to the 1920 Census, though, in '20 Mayme was in Lowell, Massachusetts and Albert was in Oaklahoma City, Oklahoma. How did they ever meet?

In any case, Mayme outlived her husband Albert Gardner by 15 years. For an unknown portion of those years she lived with Albert's sister, Florence V. Desjardins-King. When Florence died in 1952, Mayme continued to live with her brother-in-law, Elbert G. King. Uncle Al, as my grandpa called Elbert, was my grandfather's favorite uncle. 

Just recently, my sister, Rachel, just moved to Sayville and Union Cemetery is about a mile from her house. I totally had forgotten Great Grandma Mayme was buried there until I started this project of grave visiting. 

Union Cemetery doesn't have an office. The building in front of Union Cemetery is actually a Friendly's Ice Cream Shoppe and they don't know nothin' 'bout burying no dead people. 

It took some steps to finally tracked down the person who had the Union Cemetery records. First I found a number for the Union Cemetery Association that went to voicemail. A very kind woman called me back and left me a voicemail instructing me to call the Raynor & D'Andrea Funeral Parlor and ask for Vivian. Vivian doesn't work there, as far as I could tell, but rather Vivian has the Cemetery's records. Once I got a hold of Vivian, she told me she'd get back to me with the plot information I requested. And she did get back to me very quickly and shared with me another long forgotten fact, that my great grandma is buried with Gordons; in the plot purchased by Baldwin Gordon. "Hmm," I thought, "Who are these Gordons? That sounds familiar." 

Um, yeah, they sound familiar. Elbert G. King's middle name is Gordon; a common male name, I know, but in this case, it is his mother's maiden name as well. His mother was Alice Gordon-King (1871-1956). Elbert must have inherited the plot from her. Alice is not buried in Union Cemetery but her father John Harris Gordon (1844-1878) and her grandfather, the purchaser of the plot, Baldwin Cook Gordon (1803-1861) are in this family's plot at Union Cemetery along with their wives; Theresa Newton-Gordon (1845-1933) and Jerusha Raynor-Gordon (1807-1888), respectively. Elbert must have given my grandpa a vacant grave in the plot in which to bury Mayme.

There is no headstone for Mayme. This is no surprise to me. My family rarely has headstones. However, the ones around her were quite impressive.

Burial Location Found through Social Media: Gersham Smith and Sarah Ann Garvey-Smith

 When I ran into a dead end, no pun intended, looking for the burial location of my 3rd great grandparents; Gersham Smith (about 1848 - 6 November 1905) and Sarah Ann Garvey-Smith (about 1851 - 31 December 1893), I turned to social media. 

I belong to a FaceBook group called Long Island History and I had recently seen a post there about small abandoned family cemeteries around Long Island. One man had posted a photo of cemetery he had stumbled across. Having no success in finding my couple buried at the well known cemeteries in the area, I replied to that post asking if anyone knew of small cemeteries around the North Bellmore area. One man replied that there was a small, old cemetery behind the Christ Alive Church on East Meadow Avenue in East Meadow.

The Christ Alive Church was once the area's Methodist Church. The Methodists constructed a new building across the street and slightly north of their old church but the cemetery behind the Christ Alive Church has a sign that reads: United Methodist Church Cemetery Est, 1859. 

Hmm. My grandpa was raise a Methodist and converted to Catholicism after he married my grandma. Religion is very fluid in my family history. Could it be grandpa's great grandparents were still Methodists back then? Hmm. Maybe.

Place names change over time. That is certainly true here on Long Island. Many of my early Long Island ancestors were settled in Freeport. Freeport has been known by a couple of names including Raynor South and Raynortown. The European credited with settling the area in 1659 was my 10th great grandfather, Edward Raynor, thus the former names of Freeport. 

I don't live in Freeport but my family has resided in the community and surrounding towns for over 350 years; towns including Baldwin, Bellmore, East Meadow, Hempstead, Merrick, and Roosevelt. All those places, at one time, had a different name. The area in which my Smiths lived was once known as Smithville South. Yeah, they have a couple of people named Smith living there. That area is now North Bellmore and part of East Meadow. So maybe Gersham and Sarah Ann were Methodists buried in East Meadow.

I visited the churchyard on Sunday, January 31, 2021. There were very few legible headstones but there were two for Smiths; Vera May Smith (about 1899 - 6 November 1918) and, in another section, Henry E. Smith (1877 - 1917).

I went home and found an email address for the Methodist Church across the street. A very nice woman named Marcella emailed me back that she would take a look at the Church's records as soon as she was in the office. With the current COVID pandemic, I don't expect anyone to be working full-time in any office anywhere everyday. If you are, God bless you.

Yesterday I received an email back with wonderful scans showing documentation that lot 73 of the cemetery belonged to a Gersham Smith; most likely my Gersham Smith.

Marcella is going to look to see if she can confirm the couple is buried there by checking other record books to see if services were held for either of their deaths. In the meantime I have learned that Henry E. Smith for whom there is a headstone in Lot 73 is likely the son of Gersham and Sarah who I have recorded in my research as Harry. So I am pretty confident that I have been to where my third great grandparents, Gersham and Sarah Ann Smith are buried.

CHECK.

Souls without Heirs

Direct ancestors get researched all the time. Their graves are often visited and well tended, but those who left no heir, and sometimes not even a single record (like children who died between the censuses), those souls call to me.

Like my Cousin Mary over at Heritage & Vino I too have a strong affinity for those family members who left no heirs. Cousin Mary recently wrote about the siblings, Rebecca & Jacob Raynor; neither married but both obviously left strong impressions on the nieces and nephews around them.

I have recently been struggling to obtain a birth record from the City of New York for my relative, John Fay, who died in WWII and left no heirs. Part of the struggle is that I am not his direct descendant. I just want to document his existence for my family. Don't get me started...

BUT I have recently had some brilliant success, though, helping a patron connect with people that I will call his cousins even though they aren't really. Let me explain.

My patron, who I will call Jack, came to see me in search of information about the uncle he was named after but never knew. Uncle Jack died in WWII and is buried oversees. This patron came with a photo in hand of his Uncle Jack besides a woman who we believe to be Uncle Jack's wife; her name was unknown.

After some poking around on Ancestry.com we found a record for Uncle Jack in the U.S. Headstone and Interment Records for U.S. Military Cemeteries on Foreign Soil, 1942 - 1949 dataset. Had we just looked at the indexed information and not opened the actual image file we would have never seen the note that in 1965 a woman in Missouri requested a photo of Uncle Jack's headstone in France.

We both suspected this woman, Helen, might be Uncle Jack's wife and so we set off on researching what became of her which lead us to a post on FindAGrave.com that included a photo of Helen. Although the FindAGrave photo showed a woman much older then the one in the photo with Uncle Jack, there was definitely a resemblance. I reached out to the FindAGrave contributor to see if perhaps he was related to the woman in the photo he posted.

In short time I received a response from the contributor. Unfortunately he was not related to Helen but he got the image from her online obituary which he sent to me. The obituary was a gem. It told of her life with great detail and mentioned that the last feat she wanted to accomplish before her passing was to write an autobiography. At the end of the obituary it listed all her children and their spouses by name and the cities they lived in when she passed in 2016.

I immediately went to Facebook and searched for her children who all had quite unusual names. I wrote to three people who I was 99% certain would be her kids but I still wasn't sure if Helen was Uncle Jack's wife. I told them that I was a NY genealogist working with a man who might have a connection to their mother. I asked if they had ever heard of her having a first husband who died in WWII. If so, I asked if I could get a copy of her autobiography. The next morning I received a response.

Yes, my mom Helen's first husband was [Jack], who died in WWII. ...As for the autobiography, it is 109 pages long and I only have my copy. Pages 19 through 24 are about [the Uncle Jack].

This was them. This was my patron's uncle's widow's family. That being said, obviously, there is no biological connection between my patron and these children of Helen; especially given the fact Helen's children are all adopted. But what makes family is not simply genetics.

Souls who leave no heirs does not mean they did not leave family, they most certainly did. They loved and influenced people around them and those energies emit long passed one's lifetime.

Because That Is What We Do

I was recently ask how far can I trace my family tree back. The answer is to the birth of my 13th great grandfather Robert Reynere in about 1525 in Wickham Market, England.

What does that really me to me?

Well, it says I descend from some white people who lit out from their homeland for a new start in a new world because of religious persecution; because they believed in something else. It means that my 10th great grandfather, Edward Raynor, obtained some notoriety on this continent such that someone thought it important to write down the name of his great grandfather. Really, it's interesting but what does it mean to me?

Shrug.

Edward Raynor was orphaned when he was about 8 years old. His parents Samuel and Mary died in about 1632. His paternal uncle, Thurston Raynor, brought Edward with him to the New World when he migrated across the ocean with his own family in 1634.

Edward was an orphan. His paternal uncle took him in. For a long time it was assumed by later generations of historians that Thurston was Edward's father until some wills were uncovered.

His uncle took him in.

Now that has meaning to me there. That act of caring for family members is something I see as a common thread through my family history.

My parents divorced when I was about 10. My mother's niece ran away from home in her late teens. When she came to New York, my father, her former uncle by marriage, took her in. He was under no obligation to do this but this is what we do. Her uncle took her in.

I have heard stories about when my father was younger how his parents took in cousins for short, and sometimes long, stints of time while they could get on their feet.

In fact, after my parents divorced, my father went back home to his parents' house because...he could. That is what they do. You can just come home.

I struggled to find my Earle great grandparents in the 1930 census. In correctly transcribed as Carle, I eventually found them and when I did, great grandpa had his brother-in-law living with them because, well, again, that is what we do. Whether it's your brother or her brother or a niece of nephew of some ilk, you take them in.

When great grandpa Earle left New Foundland after the death of his mother, he and his older sister went to Boston. It took me a long time to find them then but when I found his eldest sister Susan I was not surprised to see she was living with her maternal aunt because... that is what we do. Her uncle (by marriage) took her in.

I have at least a dozen more example but when asked what it means to me to be able to trace my family history back to a birth in 1525 it means I can point to nearly 400 years of real family. Real family being relatives, sometimes distant, who take in those struggling members of the gene pool to give them support to get up on their own two feet. They do this not because they have to but simply because that is what we do.

Finally a Match!

For those of you who regularly read this blog you may know of Cousin Mary over at Threading Needles in a Haystack. She and I are 6th cousins once removed. My father and Cousin Mary have the same 5th great-grandparents; Jacob Raynor and Rebecca Raynor-Raynor. Jacob is a solid brickwall and although I grumble about him frequently, pretty convinced he was an alien dropped here from a far-off solar system, he is how Mary and I met. We connected through a shared record on Ancestry.com probably 10 years ago now.

When I initially took my AncestryDNA test, a year or two ago, it said it could match with relatively good confidence genetic matches up to 6th cousins. I had hoped Mary and I would match, but we did not. That is not to say that we are not related. Oh we are but due to the recombinant nature of DNA she and I do not share the same sequence of DNA proteins from Jacob or Rebecca.

Since I took my test I have had several of my close relatives also take the test. It helps to both widen and deepen the pool from which to discover connections. So far, my dad, my sister, half-sister, two uncles, and two second cousins have taken the AncestryDNA test. Today the results came in for my Uncle Thomas and for the first time the results show that Cousin Mary and Uncle Thomas have a DNA match!

YAY!!!

Now really all that does is scientifically confirm what Cousin Mary and I already knew. We're cousins! But oh, it's exciting to see one's research confirmed.

YAY!

The Results are IN!

Early yesterday morning I received an email from AncestryDNA that the results from my DNA test were available.

The results give insight into one's genetic ethnicity and connects one with other who have taken the test and have DNA in common with you.

First it gave me a breakdown of my genetic ethnicity. I am:
44% - Ireland
18% - Scandinavia
18% - Great Britain
7% - Eastern Europe
3% - Italian/Greek
3% - Caucasus
2% - Europe West
2% - European Jewish
1% - Iberian Peninsula
<1% - Finland/Northwest Russia
<1% - Near East

These results did not surprise me. Looking at the the tree I have created through my research it makes sense. If I examine the ethnic origin of my 32 great-great-great grandparents, each of which theoretically provided me with 3.125% of my DNA, I'm about 34% Scotch/Irish, 25% English, 16% French, 13% German, 6% Czech, 3% Swiss, 3% Dutch. I'm a mutt. 

And even though my researched ethnicity doesn't exactly match my genetic ethnicity, it is not startling. I didn't come back 20% Italian/Greek or 18% European Jewish. The Scandinavian was mildly surprising but after reading about the migration patterns of this genetic group and checking out my winter white, pasty skin-tone, I'm not surprised.

Now really, I did not get 3.125% of my DNA from each of my great-great-great grandparents. It's only in theory that I got an even amount from each of them. 

I absolutely got 50% of my DNA from my mother and 50% from my father but because of the recombinant nature of meiotic cell division I absolutely did not get an even 25% from each of my grandparents. When my parents sex cells divided I might have gotten 30% from my paternal grandmother and 20% from my paternal grandfather. And in theory I could have gotten 49.9% from my maternal grandmother and .1% from my maternal grandfather. 

Cell division and recombination is why none of us are genetically the same except for identical twins. My sister and I will have more DNA in common that we would with any first cousin but we will not be exactly the same. A cousin got 50% of their DNA from an entirely different family. If my sister took the test her results would be different but not alarmingly so unless of course there was some hanky panky going on and she is a half-sister. My half sister would be as genetically close as a first cousin.

That being said we as a species are all genetically very similar as well. Ready to have your mind blown?

All blue-eyed people have 1 single genetic ancestor. 

Did that statement just blow your mind?

Of course that first genetic occurrence happened millions of years ago and has been passed down to billions of people. You are not going to find a relative in common with every blue-eyed person you meet. 

So your DNA can tell you about very recent connections - those you share a lot of similar DNA patterns with. And DNA will tell you about very distant connections - regions where there are high concentrations of people with DNA patterns similar to yours.

That ethnic breakdown is the distant connections. AncestryDNA.com also tells you about the recent connections. It uses your DNA findings and matches you to others who have taken the DNA test. 

To my knowledge none of my first or second cousins have taken this test yet and thus I was not surprised to find that the system could only match me to a few individuals who could be as close as 4th cousins or further back. 

Looking at those potential 4th cousins' trees, I could not see a common relative. In one of them there was an unusual common surname though; Carre. The Carre family was from the Montreal area of Quebec; I am connected to them through my maternal grandfather. The man who may genetically be a 4th - 6th cousin is probably a 7th cousin to me. If he and I could document back a generation or two more we could probably find out common ancestor. I emailed him through Ancestry to see if we could learn more from each others' research.

Being 4th cousins mean that the individual and I share a 5th great grandparent; could be further back and it may involve some of that "removed" business but let's say we share 5th great-grandparents. The 5th great-grandparents that I can trace back through records were born in the later half of the 1700s. In most lines I can not get back that far through records. So to say I could be 4th - 6th cousins with someone might not reveal an obvious common relative in our trees. There may be no records to connect to the name of our common ancestor. It does not mean we are not cousins, it just means we don't know who made us cousins.

I was shocked that Cousin Mary did not show up as a genetic match. She and I know through our documentation that we are 6th cousins once removed; her daughter and I are 7th cousins. I'm older but she is a generation above me. She has taken this test. I though for sure we would be matched. The relatives that Cousin Mary and I share are Jacob and Rebecca Raynor who were born around 1760. But again, that recombinant nature of DNA. We both have DNA from our Raynors but not the same piece of DNA. We're not a match but our research proves we are indeed cousins.

Ancestry provides an interesting feature though. Amongst your list of those you share genetic information with, you can limit it to those who have "hints." You have probably seen the Ancestry.com commercial about the "shaking leaves." Those are "hints." They indicate there is a record in their database that may match an ancestor you put in your tree or, in this case, that another researcher has the same individual in their family tree.

When I limited my DNA matches to those who had "hints" there was only 1 result. A woman who listed in her tree the parents of my Rebecca Raynor. She is descended from Rebecca's brother Thomas. She and I share this same set of 6th great-grandparents; Joseph Raynor and Elizabeth Lester-Raynor - - without a doubt.

The reason I find that so excited is because Cousin Mary is undoubtedly a Raynor too. Her mother had the maiden name Raynor. My connection to the Raynor name is from my father's father's mother's father's father's mother's mother. (Hee hee hee, writing that just makes me giggle.) If it was Cousin Mary or I who were going to have an error in their Raynor research it would have been most likely been me error. 

This genetic match though, proves my research is good. The DNA test matched me to a set of direct ancestors who Cousin Mary and I have in common. She and I just do not have the same DNA from this couple which does not mean we are not related. We most definitely are! And I am most definitely related to this newly found cousin. I have dropped an email to her too through Ancestry.com. I anxiously await her reply.

I am also anxious to get closer, known relatives to take the test. First cousins, second cousins, third cousins, if you are interested in taking the test, let me know. Right now it's $100 which is not pocket change, I know, but it is not as expensive as it once was. I'm also really itchin' to get my dad to do the test. And I am pretty sure I know what Nanny is getting for Christmas. 

A Post By Cousin Mary

I am not sure how long ago it was now but it has been a while since I met Cousin Mary through genealogy research on ancestry.com. She and I are 6th cousins once removed. (I love that removed stuff!) She and I share the same brick wall. "Ooo you, Jacob Raynor, you!!" Shaking my fist in the air. 

After you read her post here you should check out her blog over at http://threadingneedlesinahaystack.blogspot.com/ .

Thank you for your post, Cousin Mary! I love you!

Hi, my name is Mary, and I’m a genealogy addict.

Genealogy seems to be a hobby – alright, alright, obsession! – tailor-made just for me. Before I even knew there was such a thing as the study of family history, I was a huge history buff. If it took place in the past, it was right up my alley. I loved to write, loved to learn, loved to organize and I loved names and families. Yes, you read that right. I used to have a list of favorite names that I updated on a weekly basis, and I used to make up families – this person married that person and they had these kids. These kids grew up and moved here and there, did this for a living, married so-and-so, and had those kids. Grandma and Grandpa died, and the grandkids grew up and had their own kids…sounds insane, right? And yet, oh so familiar?

So, yes, genealogy was tailor-made just for me. Or maybe I was tailor-made for genealogy. It’s something I’m SUPPOSED to be doing. It’s not for everybody. Like any kind of vocation, to borrow a religious term from my old job as a Catholic newspaper reporter, not everybody is called to it. Sure, lots of people dabble. Lots of people are honestly interested. Lots of people THINK they’re interested, until they realize all the work that’s involved. I used to be one of those people who just wanted to get to the next generation, to see how far back I could get. When I realized that it was possible to document and prove (or disprove, as the case often was) the things I was learning – well, where others might have been deterred, I just fell in love even more. And you know what? There’s nothing wrong with being a Christmas-and-Easter family historian, someone who only occasionally opens the family folders, who really is interested but just doesn’t have the time to pursue it as obsessively as we do. Because I’m sure we all know (and if you don’t yet, if you’re just starting out, you will know soon!) how time-consuming genealogy can be. Sometimes in an unbelievably frustrating way, in a I-wish-I-had-just-taken-up-gardening kind of way. But usually in an I-can’t-sleep-I’m-so-excited-I-just-found-a-long-lost-picture-of-Great Grandma Annie-through-a-third-cousin-I-never-knew-I-had-and-I-need-to-find-more-info-NOW kind of way. We NEED those occasional genealogists because, as luck usually has it, they’re the ones in possession of Great Grandma Annie’s photo. The more people who are out there doing this, even in the most casual of senses, the better it is for all of us. Collaboration is key! But if you’re one of the Chosen Ones (and there are quite a lot of us!) you know it. You eat, drink, and breathe vital records and cemeteries and newspaper archives. In college, I used to stay up all night. Partying with my friends? Quite a bit, yes. Glued to my computer screen searching online genealogy databases? Oh, most definitely. Genealogy is my drug of choice, after all.

But maybe that’s not the best metaphor. Addicts, for all intents and purposes, have the ability to stop. When you’re CALLED to something, it’s a part of who you are. I was a genealogist before I even knew there was a thing called genealogy. I just didn’t know it yet. It’s brought me closer to my grandmother, who also has The Calling, and to my father, who sits on the fence between casual-and-obsessive family history researcher. And I’ve gotten to discover and meet so, so many wonderful cousins and friends through our mutual research. And now that I have a daughter and my cousins have started to have kids, and the next generation of my family tree has begun blooming, I can’t wait to see which of them (hopefully a few!) I get to share this calling with!

1880: Captain Leander Losee Ousted from Life-Saving Station No. 31.

This morning as I left for work I groused about being the only one in my household that has a stinkin' job. I say it in jest mostly. My father is recently retired after having worked hard for the past 40 years for the local power authority. It hasn't been quite a month yet that he has been home. My step-mother and step-brother, though, are also unemployed for personal health reasons. So of the four of us, I'm the only one who goes to a job.

I am a cataloger at a local University library. Well, there are some days when my 1 hour+ commute does not seem local at all but in modern day terms it is a local University; but I digress. Yesterday the catalog was down and so I was extremely bored. I spent a majority of the day surfing the web and generally goofing off; a behavior which I will deny encouraging. The experience got me thinking about the learned behavior of having a work ethic and it made me think of Leander and the trouble idleness can cause. 

Leander Losee was the brother of my 4th great-uncle; the brother of my 3rd great-grandfather, John M. Losee Sr. There was a third brother who gets a lot of press in my blog; Benjamin Franklin Losee, me beloved Civil War Soldier. Leander too, though, served in the Civil War; in the U.S. Navy.

The sea plays a great role in my family's history. The thought of being on the ocean or in it makes me queasy. But I do live on an island and I come from a great line of Long Island baymen, seafaring Newfoundlanders, early-American settlers who arrived by ship, ancestors who died at sea, and grandpas who were WWII Navy men. I feel nausea just thinking about it.

It is Leander who brings together the noble occupation of captaining a life-saving boat station and the less than respectable work ethic of slacking off. 

A search of the Brooklyn Daily Eagle online many years ago revealed an article entitled "Life Saving: Punishing Abuses in the Service on the South Coast of Long Island: Station 31 Investigated"  from February 3, 1880.

Life-saving Stations dotted the coast of Long Island at this period in time. It was quite an honor to be named the captain of a Life-saving Station then; and it was an honor bestowed upon the Civil War Naval veteran, Leander Losee who was a resident of the well known port village of Freeport. Baymen were plentiful in the community and Losees, Raynors, and Smiths, of whom Leander and I are descended, were instrumental in the rescue and recovery of many a noteworthy shipwreck near Freeport Inlet including the sinking of the ships the Bristol and the Mexico which occurred on January 2, 1837. 

The article in the Brooklyn Daily Eagle reveals that Oliver J. Smith, one of the crew members of which I am pretty certain was a cousin of Leander's, accused Leander of permitting gambling on the job as well as drinking and a general neglect of duties. Another man, William Raynor testified as well as to having participated in gambling activities at the Station as did Leander's own brother-in-law; Alexander Padgett. Leander plead not guilty but when questioned under oath he admitted that there was gambling and the consumption of alcohol at the Station; but he denied that the crew was ever "too drunk for duty." 

"Too drunk for duty." I am rolling my eyes and shaking my head.

Poor ole Leander was ultimately removed from the keepership of the Life-saving Station Number 31 in Freeport.  The article states it was likely that the new Captain would weed out the old crew with the hope of strengthening the service. Due to this incident, other Long Island Life-saving Stations would also undergo investigations.

The articles never revealed if any lives were ever lost due to the dereliction of duties which would have been an absolute shame and horror. I am certain that much like volunteer firefighters today, the crews of these Life-saving Stations were comprised of good-hearted men with the best of intentions to save, to rescue, those in danger. In a position, though, that is much like manning a reference desk, a lot of time is spent sitting around waiting for something to happen; waiting to be needed. And what is that saying? Idle hands are the Devil's play things. Vices take hold when waiting is your workshop.

I like to imagine, though, that Leander Losee was just that, a good-hearted, well-intentioned man who suffered from too much time on his hands and a weakness for "the drink." Through his Civil War pension records I know that alcoholism played a role in the decline of his health. 

He may have brought a shame upon his family back in 1880 but I find no shame in his admittedly human-nature now. He tried, he failed, he struggled, he suffered from himself, he soldiered on, and ultimately, like all of us will, he passed from this life. He left a legacy of service really. My relatives are helpers, ready always to lend a hand to those in need. I see volunteering and good-heartedness in the blood of my family as well as my own. And maybe there too is still a drop of the drink.