My Mother's Irish Ancestors

The birds are singing their spring songs outside, despite the snow, and St. Patrick's Day marks our turning towards the equinox. The days are lengthening and in my little garden, the tiger lilies are thinking about peeking out of the earth with their bright green shoots. And I am thinking about my Irish heritage. I was surprised to discover recently that all of my known Irish ancestors are found in my mother's family tree.

The first to step on American soil was my 7x great-grandfather David Calhoun, born in Dongeal in 1690. He settled and died in Connecticut. I feel I have to admit that David's grandfather was from Scotland, so his family blood was Scotch-Irish.

Thomas Riddle, also found spelled Ridel, was born in Ireland in 1739. He was my 6x great-grandfather. He hailed from Tyrone County, where he appears on a 1796 list for Irish flax growers. He fought for the colonies in the Revolutionary War as a Private in 1775.

My 6x great-grandparents John Berry, born in 1762, and Nancy Matchet, born in 1767, came to America from Ireland and settled in a small town called Mayfield, in New York. There are still Berrys in Mayfield.

My other Irish ancestors all immigrated to New York, where the Erie Canal was being planned. The unknown parents of my 3x great-grandfather Thomas Burke came to America via Canada, where Thomas was born in 1832. He is listed as living in Lockport in 1855 with his widowed mother Ann. He was employed in "boating."

My 4x great-grandfather Barney Dowd came over from Ireland with his daughters and their families, including my 3x great-grandmother Mary Dowd, born about 1837 in Ireland, as was her husband, David Conners, my ancestor, too.

My Lockportian ancestors all lived in the areas of Lowertown where the Irish who worked on the canal had set up their homes. So in honor of St. Patty's day, I'll set out a bowl of warm honey and milk over sodabread and I'll pour a pint of ale for them. I'll honor those who left their homelands for a country that treated them like vermin. I honor that Irish spirit that allowed them to persevere and plant roots.



[Originally posted March 16, 2016.]

The Mothers That Bore Me

Whitcher sisters Ellen, Harriet, Emma*, & Frances.

Across the country today, women are standing up and stepping forward and being seen. In my heart I am thinking of the women who paved the way for me to be here, walking this earth and living in this beautiful world, fighting to be seen as a person wearing female skin. My thoughts are with the generations that came before me. My heart lives in the daughters and son of my sister and brother, who will inherit this world after me.

The First Generation above me is my mother, still living. She sacrificed a lot to give us a childhood free of worry, no matter what circumstances we found ourselves in. She’s the reason I believe in Santa Claus still. She always encouraged me to dream big. She is a deep well of conversations and dreaming, and she inspires me constantly in the ways she manifests her own dreams into action and gives them life. She instilled in me that the worst thing that can happen is you fail and have to try again, but if you never try, you’ll never win. She’s one of my closest friends and our summer time visits sustain me.

My mother’s mother is still living and my father’s stepmother is still living. Both women have had long, often difficult lives, and have courageously battled cancer. I have seen such bravery and quiet strength in the women I have known, especially my Great-Grandma Elsie. She was a guiding force for me as a child and she continues to be one for me through my dreams. I have to believe that spirit is embodied in some way in the women I never met. This is how I honor them.

Those Who Have Gone Before Me

Second Generation

maternal father’s line

Donna MacDonald (1938-2001) age 62

paternal mother’s line

Ruth Emma Ruston (1916-1959) age 42

Third Generation

maternal mother’s line

Margaret Loretta Burke (1899-1938) age 35

maternal father’s line

Elsie Elizabeth Durant (1904-1994) age 89

paternal mother’s line

Minnie Estelle Wicker (1890-1964) age 73

paternal father’s line

Hattie Eva Smith (1882-1969) age 86

Fourth Generation

maternal mother’s line

Eliza Conners (b.1866)

Katherine S. Pils (1871-1946) age 74

maternal father’s line

Emma Louise Burnah (1869-1939) age 69

Frances Gillette (1877-1963) age 85

paternal mother’s line

Emma Angeline Whitcher (1845-1929) age 83 [*photo above]

Ruth Ireland (1861-1940) age 78

paternal father’s line

Hattie Eva Dutcher (1857-1882) age 24 in childbirth

Theresa Cordelia Tenney (1850-1930) age 79

Fifth Generation

maternal mother’s line

Ellen unknown (b.1836)

Mary Dowd (b.1834)

Mary Burzee

Katherine Maria Schmeelk (d.1901) –or- Ana Catherine Blume (1833-1901) age 68

maternal father’s line

Jane Berry (1841-1901) age 59

Rosella LaValley (1843-1921) age 77

Sarah Clickner (1830-1876) age 45

paternal mother’s line

Ordelia De Lozier (1810-1888) age 77

Cynthia Lusk (1819-1888) age 68

Phoebe Lenton (1826-1887) age 60

Anna Richardson (b.1822)

paternal father’s line

Eliza Marsh Bird (1837-1926) age 88

Sophia Sears (1829-1909) age 79

Malvina H. Targee (1829-1852) age 23

Hannah Ann Treadwell (1817-1884) age 66

Sixth Generation

maternal mother’s line

Wilhemenia Wernersbach (b.1798 GER-US)

Ann unknown

Betsey unknown

maternal father’s line

Esther LaLonde (1811 PQ-1894 US) age 83

Rosella LaRoche (1805-1871) age 65

Elizabeth Ann Hill (1825-1899) age 73

Mary Ann Boots (1825-1899) age 73

Mary Ann Hayner (b.1793)

Abigail Chaffee (d.1829)

paternal mother’s line

Lucy Raymond (1789-1874) age 84 [**photo below]

Dorcas Kittredge (1774-1828) age 53

Rebecca unknown

Chloe Morgan (1792-1850) age 58

Mary Wilson (b.1785)

Jane Brooks (b.1794)

paternal father’s line

Irene Pond Marsh (b.1803)

Cynthia Ann Feagles (1814-1890) age 75

Clarissa DeBois (1806-1873) age 67

Betsey unknown

Ellen S. unknown

Esther unknown

Fermicy ‘Fanny’ Peters (1798-1875) age 77

Lucy Gould (1777-1840) age 62

Seventh Generation

maternal father’s line

Marie Amable Langevin (1795-1840) age 44

Gertrude Dixon (1783-1855) age 71

Harriet Gower (1806-1886) age 80

Abigail Hannah (b.1780)

Elizabeth Weager (d.1844)

Engle ‘Angelica’ Coonradt (1746-1833) age 87

Deborah unknown

Mary/Polly Thomas (b.1760)

paternal mother’s line

Lucy Richmond (1755-1841) age 86

Eleanor Erkells (1767-1789) age 22

Mary ‘Molly’ Bailey (1730-1815) age 85

Elizabeth Dow (1735-1776) age 41

Mary A. ‘Polly’ unknown (1795-1895) age 100

Susannah Parker (1750-1825) age 75

Elizabeth Wright (b.1748)

paternal father’s line

Mary ‘Polly’ Coleman

Jane “Jennie” Palmer (1762-1815) age 52

Abigail Andrews (b.1776)

Abigail Darby (1765-1837) age 72

Delilah unknown

Anne Arnold (1752-1833) age 81

Hepsibah Skiff (1733-1800) age 66

Eighth Generation

maternal father’s line

Amable DuClos (1766-1795) age 29

Marie Agathe Charland (1751-1800) age 48

Nancy Machet (1767-1844) age 76

Margaret Anthony (1773-1819) age 46

Mary Glyde (1760-1812) age 52

Mary Calhoun (1732-1798) age 65

Julianna Merchant

Rhoda Cady (1739-1799) age 60

Rebekah Moulton (b.1742)

paternal mother’s line

Hannah Caswell (1729-1756) age 27

Elizabeth Blackmer (1716-1765) age 49

Fytje Sophia Zabriski (b.1707)

Sarah Fowle (1696-1739) age 43

Martha Hanniford (b.1721)

Jemima Davis (1706-1753) age 47

Jane Pearson (1724-1811) age 87

Abiah Washburn (1726-1812) age 86

Elizabeth unknown

Elizabeth Porter (b.1715)

paternal father’s line

Silence/Celenia Lyon (1755-1821) age 65

Jemima VanDeusen (1744-1831) age 87

Helena “Lina” Eleanor Van Deusen (1713-1769) age 55

Susannah Townsend (1740-1782) age 42

Lucretia Cleveland (1736-1824) age 88

Mary Bingham (1734-1821) age 87

Tabitha Luther (d.1746)

Elizabeth Brooks (1731-1815) age 84

Elizabeth Hatch (1697-1743) age 46

Elizabeth Parker (1700-1739) age 38

Ninth Generation

maternal father’s line

Marie Agathe Bourgault (b.1745)

Marie Madeleine Coulon (1732-1799) age 66

Katherine Coe (1700-1732) age 31

Margaret unknown

Mercy Smith (1720-1793) age 72

Abigail Lee (1703-1782) age 79

Jemima Chadwick (1686-1759) age 73

Rebekah Walker (1717-1802) age 84

paternal mother’s line

Elizabeth Barney (1691-1757) age 66

Mehitable Deane (1697-1745) age 48

Mary Mercy Brickett (1698-1725) age 27

Deborah Balch (1693-1717) age 24

Antje Terhune (1681-1758) age 77

Tryntie Catherine Slote (1671-1708) age 36

Susanna Blaney (1673-1711) age 38

Hannah French (1664-1755) age 91

Jemima Eastman (1677-1760) age 83

Mary Hoyt (1664-1723) age 59

Jane P. Noyes (1704-1773) age 69

Sarah Lillie (1702-1775) age 73

Hannah Johnson (1694-1780) age 86

Rebekah unknown

Sarah unknown

paternal father’s line

Lydia Perry (1729-1763) age 33

Lena Vosburgh (b.1714)

Rachel Fowler (1702-1780) age 78

Jacomyntje VanSchoonhoven (1678-1777) age 79

Jannetje Hendrickse Bondt (1677-1721) age 44

Huldah Hopkins (d.1731)

Desire Tobey (1707-1781) age 74

Dorothy/Deborah Hyde (1702-1769) age 67

Elizabeth Spaulding (1698-1770) age 72

Ruth Post (1711-1796) age 85

Abigail Wood (1700-1776) age 76

Ann Coggeshall (1699-1726) age 25

Mary Bateman (1696-1726) age 22

Priscilla Bateman (1687-1730) age 43

Amy Allen (1663-1709) age 46

Hepsibah Codman (1658-1696) age 38

Thankful Hemingway (1668-1736) age 68

Lydia Gay (1679-1748) age 68

I am that they were.

**Lucy Richmond, married DeLozier, my 4x great-grandma and one of the oldest generational photos we have.

Modraniht, id est matrum nocturum

“the Modraniht, that is, in the night of the mothers[=matrons?]”

History

I came across this celebration when I was researching the pagan roots of my German ancestors. Early Germanic peoples celebrated the night before Winter Solstice as Mothers Night. The Venerable Bede, a Christian monk from the 8^th century wrote about it in his description of the pagan calendar. In Old English they called it Modraniht. More than 1100 votive stones and altars have been found through the centuries, dedicated to the mothers, or matrons, and half of these altar stones were inscribed and dedicated with Germanic names.

The main areas of worship have been uncovered in ancient Germania, northern Italy and eastern Gaul. There are a few larger cult centers with temples found along the Rhine. Many of these altars were found near rivers, wells or springs. The dedicated altars and votives reached as far as present day Scotland, southern Spain, Frisia and Rome. There is reference to the Germanic Mother Cults in the writings of Bede in 725 AD: “And the very night that is sacrosanct to us, these people call modranect, that is, the mothers’ night, a name bestowed, I suspect, on account of the ceremonies which they performed while watching this night through.”

Altars and votive stones, as well as temples, were often carved with images showing three women of matron age and appearance, often holding baskets of fruit and a baby. Based on the inscriptions found, it is thought that these altars were dedicated as offerings of thanks for abundance, gifts and blessings that soldiers and sailors had already received. They believed the Mothers had responded to their prayers and this was their way of acknowledging them, burning incense and leaving sacrificial offerings of food.

Many of these goddesses or spirits were named for the family that was dedicating them, as well as being named for the river or spring that watched over the local town or village, such as the Albiahenae matrons of the town of Elvenich or the Renahenae of the Rhine. Of the 1100 votive stones found, over 360 different ones name the same sets of matrons, the Aufaniae, the Suleviae and the Vacallinehae. Based on the age of the stone inscriptions, it appears that the cult of the Matrons began to die out in continental Germany around the fifth century CE, and Modraniht fell out of favor as Christianity gained foothold.

Home

The Night of the Mothers was the time to honor the familial and tribal “soul” mothers who watched over them. It was intended to honor those who had crossed over, not for those still living. On Mothers Night we honor the sacrifice of life so that the ancestral matrons might become a source of wisdom and strength for those still living.

I begin my celebration by creating a small rock cairn on a temporary altar. I honor first those of my mothers who have crossed over, inscribing their names on stone in chalk. I light a candle for each of them. I remember them and tell what I know of their stories. I do also choose to honor the strength of the mothers still living, that they may become part of that ancestral current when it is their turn to pass through the veil.

I drink a cup of tea and invite them to share my cup. I crochet, something my Great-Grandmother taught me on the front porch over the summer when I was younger, gifting me her hooks when she could no longer use them. One way to honor the mothers is to honor their work and pass on the skills that have been taught to you by your mothers, and their mothers, that they live on through you, and the crafting of your hands.

What was special to them? Before dusk falls on Modraniht, I sit and hand-sew, darning old clothes. With each stitch, I pray. Tonight I stitch runes of rebirth, recovery, and courage into cloth. Each stitch is a small prayer of hope, a way of pushing forward despite the adversity.

This night is the night for daughters and sons to honor the line of birthings that occurred throughout history, that opened the way for their births. That made their presence in the world. It does not matter what current feelings might be complicated around maternal relationships.

You are because they were. Do not rewrite the past. Honor the journey.

Heartsong

A year ago I prayed to my mothers from a hospital bed on the rehabilitation floor. I thanked the spirit women who stood by my bedside on the Burn ICU. I thanked the faces I recognized from photos and the ones I may never identify.

            Again, I pray for them. I thank the ICU nurses who mothered me back to health and back to myself. I thank and pray for everyone who had hands in easing my recovery, brightening my heart, or tended to my body needs in any way. And this year I thank the courses my brain stories took that enabled me to step out of the fire without succumbing to madness.

            In light of that new prayer, I light a candle for the mythological goddess Frigga, who sheltered me in the darkest moments by wrapping what was left of my bones in a cool cloth and tucked me away from the glare of the blinding sunlight. In the next moment, in my ICU bed, I knew a moment of relief.

Hearth

I am Sarah,

daughter of Margaret,

daughter of Patricia,

daughter of Margaret,

daughter of Eliza,

daughter of Mary of Ireland,

daughter of mother unknown…

Daughters of daughters back to the first mother,

I pray to you in stitches.

The needle between my fingers devolves into metals of various kinds, into bits of bone, until my hands roughen, becoming one with the first hands of my line to stitch skins together. Whoever is unknown to me, whatever countless number of generations of mothers led to my birth, we are joined in this familiar act.

I pray for health for my loved ones.

I pray for my continued healing and recovery.

I pray for happiness for all who walk the earth.

I pray for moments of joy for all who are grieving.

I pray that the echo of the wisdom of the mothers who have come before is remembered.

I pray for the earth, for our Great Mother, whose bones and minerals and animal DNA gave us life.

I pray for all mothers who came before me, all who walk with me and all who will come after... though my line ends with me.

May my life touch others while I am living it.

Grandma Donna MacDonald (m.Riddle)

Grandma Ruth Emma Ruston (m.Eaton)

1xGG Minnie Estelle Wicker (m.Ruston)

1xGG Hattie Eva Smith (m.Eaton0

2xGG Ruth Ireland (m.Ruston), Grandma Ruth Emma Ruston, 2xGG Emma Angeline Whitcher (m.Wicker)

2xGG Hattie Eva Dutcher (m.Smith)

2xGG Theresa Cordelia Tenney (m.Eaton)

2xGG Frances Gillette (m.Riddle) back, far left, & 3xGG Jane Berry (m.Gillette) front, right

3xGG Eliza Marsh Bird (m.Dutcher)

3xGG Sophia Sears (m.Smith)

4xGG Mary Ann Boots (m.Gillette)

4xGG Elizabeth Ann Hill (m.Berry)

[Adapted from an article originally published December 21, 2011.]

Every Day is Earth Day

Earth Day is every day. It’s not just a sentiment. It’s true. Despite what Western convention would have you believe, land does not belong to anyone. We belong to the land. We were born from it. We evolved out of it. And from the moment of our birth, we are charged as caretakers of the Earth. We are all Stewards of the Land.

Believe it. Own it. Live it. How will you rise to meet your birthright?

Let’s Talk Trash for Earth Day. I know the trash you see on the streets and in the parks does not belong to you. You didn’t put it there. That doesn’t mean you can’t pick it up. Just yesterday I picked up three knotted plastic bags of dog shit left behind in various yards. I don’t have a dog. But the owners of those dogs were obviously not going to do it.

I am especially offended by all the broken bits of plastic littered about that most people don’t see, all the bottle caps and bits of food packaging containers. Have you seen the video about the birds that die with bellies full of plastic? They mistake it for food and it kills them from the inside. Who will defend their right to life free from harm if not us?

Maybe you don’t have it in you to pick up all the trash you see. The best way you CAN help is to not add to it. We create the world we want to live in by the choices we make. Do not ever throw a thing to the ground because you don’t know what to do with it. Adopt a practice of Carry In, Carry Out.

And then take it a step further with the Earth Week Challenge. It doesn’t have to be earth week when you do it, but challenge yourself to spend a week not using garbage cans or waste baskets. Carry a reusable shopping bag with you (one you can wash afterwards) and throw personal refuse you would normally put in the garbage in your reusable bag- unless it’s actual food waste, because that can be unsanitary. But collect everything else. At the end of the week you will see the waste you produced, just from your day-to-day routine. You may not be able to apply this to work-related refuse, but that candy bar you ate at on break should go in your reusable bag.

Then reflect on ways you can pare down on the unnecessary garbage and maybe keep the challenge going for a month. What choices can you make when you’re shopping to both get a good price AND cut down on the amount of wasteful packaging? How much can you reduce your garbage output and increase your recyclables output over time? It makes me feel good that every week I put out one small garbage bag and two very full recycling bins. Someday, when we can have a composting bin on our property, even that minimal garbage output will go down.

If you have a mind to face the truth, if you can stomach it, read writings by Derrick Jensen. It’s hard to face the legacy of the effects our pursuit of industry and progress have had on the Earth. My firm belief is that if we cannot do it cleanly, we have no business doing it. We cannot afford to forego the effects of what we do for the sake of progress. And yet big business does just that. How can we care if we don’t know? Check back in the next few weeks for my thoughts on the essay “What We Leave Behind” from The Derrick Jensen Reader: Writings on Environmental Revolution. Even my hometown is not immune to the aftereffects of industry, made known in a new film by Tanya Stadelmann, called “This Creek.”

I don’t blame you if it’s too much to hear, too much to know, or too much to handle. But we all spend enough time with our heads in the sand, like ostriches, trying to protect our human hearts. But while we do that, who is protecting the heart of the Earth?

We’re slowly learning. People and groups are making changes, but the time has come for more sweeping global changes. The best way to move forward is to follow by positive examples. The country of Sweden recycles all that can be recycled and what little garbage remains, less than one percent, is turned into an energy source. Other countries are now paying Sweden to import the garbage they do not have room for.

Did you know there are giant swirling masses of plastic covering our oceans and separating the underwater life from sunlight? There are five main masses, totaling millions of tons of weight (of plastic, which weighs next to nothing. See what this group is doing to help clean up the oceans. Do you want to eat fish that has been eating plastic?

In Paraguay, people have seen beauty and possibility in the trash piled up around them. Imagine beautiful musical instruments for underprivileged kids made of recycled materials pulled from dumps. Seriously. Watch the video. Listen to the music. One man's waste is another man's treasure. Literally.

These problems are human ones. Humans created this waste. Not the Earth. It can’t be the Earth’s problem. Sometimes we need a reminder that when we let nature be what she was meant to be, beautiful things happen. Humans once trapped wolves to near-extinction, and the land changed because of it. These changes are not irreversible. Watch the magic that happened when wolves were reintroduced into Yellowstone.

Every day is Earth Day. We are born from it. We evolved out of it. And from the moment of our birth, we are charged as caretakers of the Earth. Believe it. Own it. Live it. How will you rise to meet your birthright?

Genealogy and Health Histories

Roy in uniform, Elmira NY.

One of the side benefits to genealogy work is discovering how your ancestors died, and what that might tell you about your family genes. Three years ago I had an accident. In the course of getting treated, my sugar was discovered to be startlingly high. The next day, when my dad and I were distracting me by going through some family stuff, he was talking about his Grandpa Roy, who was a prison guard at Auburn NY. My great-grandpa Roy was injured in a small prison riot. But his official death lists that he died from complications to his injuries due to his pre-existing condition of diabetes.

And it was like an unwanted lightbulb went off. I changed my diet. I changed my lifestyle, hoping to avoid a similar diagnosis, but just before Christmas, thanks to finally having health insurance, I found out that I am also diabetic. Thanks, also, to the concern Roy’s story prompted, I have/had already done the majority of lifestyle changes, and those changes saved me from being sicker than I was.

I know that my Grandpa Mark, Roy’s son, died of cancer that was so advanced when they discovered it, it had already spread to his bones and throughout his body. He was 67. My Grandma Ruth died of cervical cancer at the age of 43. My Grandpa Dick died at 72 of lung cancer caused by asbestos from his stint in the Navy.

I know my great-grandpa Harold Lafayette Riddle (1903-1975) had a heart attack at age 72 and his wife, my beloved Elsie Elizabeth Durant (1904-1994), died of old age at 90. My great-grandma Margaret Loretta Burke (1899-1938) died of renal cancer at 39 and her husband Robert George Art (1892-1974) died of bladder cancer at age 82.

I’ve discovered other stories along the way of my other various levels of great-grandparents that lend themselves to more research:

• 3x Bailey Harrison Whitcher (1799-1865) had become deaf and was hit by a train crossing the railroad tracks when he was 66. His wife Ordelia deLozier (1810-1888) died tragically after falling down the stairs at age 78.
• 4x Peter de Lozier (1786-1849), Ordelia’s father, died of cholera at age 39, after abandoning his family to return to the sea. He was a Prisoner of War at Tripoli.
• 9x William Blackmore (1640-1676) was “attacked by Indians” in Scituate MA and killed at age 36.
• 10x Sgt. William Pond (1622-1690) died “unexpectedly” at age 68.
• 10x Robert Sallows (1626-1663) drowned at sea at age 41, while living in Salem.
• 11x James Chilton (1562-1620) and his wife died the first winter aboard the Mayflower. He was 58 and the oldest man on board. Her age and name are unknown. Their 12 year old daughter Mary survived them.
• 11x Thomas Rogers (1572-1621) died the first winter on the Mayflower at age 49.
• 15x Sir Henry Norreys (1491-1536) was beheaded at the Tower of London for an alleged adultery with Anne of Boleyn. He was 45.
• 23x Sir Edmund Fitzalan (1285-1326) was beheaded at age 41.
• 25x Robert of Artois (1216-1250) died at age 34 “leading reckless attack on Al Mansurah.”
• 28x Frederick Bararossa (1122-1190) drowned at age 68 while on crusade in Silifke, Turkey.

In my research, I pay homage to my ancestresses who are known to have died in childbirth, for their mortality and their sacrifice in birthing those who made me possible:

• 2x Hattie Eva Dutcher (1857-1882) at age 25.
• 10x Ruth Lee (1602-1642) at age 40.
• 13x Anne Walgrave (1495-1530) at age 35.
• 19x Agnes Daubeney (1307-1335) at age 28.
• 19x Aubigny Creake (1335-1355) at age 20.

On a happier tone, I also made note of twenty-nine of my known ancestors who lived to me more than ninety years old:

• 3x Ammi Smith (1824-1918) age 94. 
• 5x Desire Tourgee (1752-1845) age 92. 
• 6x Patience Thomas (1732-1822) age 90. 
• 6x Thomas Boots (1761-1852) age 91. 
• 7x Mary Smith (1701-1800) age 98. 
• 7x Nicholas LaSueur/Lozier (1668-1761) age 93. 
• 8x Lydia Starr (1652-1744) age 92. 
• 8x Elizabeth Williams (1671-1771) age 100. 
• 8x Hannah Latham (1651-1750) age 99. 
• 9x John Bird (1641-1732) age 90. 
• 9x Thomas Andrew Hovey (1648-1739) age 91. 
• 10x Richard Sears (1590-1696) age 106. 
• 10x Anna Reeve (1590-1685) age 95. 
• 10x Mary Clark (1590-1681) age 91. 
• 11x George Dyer, weaver, (1579-1672) age 93. 
• 11x Sir Edward Bishop (1601-1695) age 94. 
• 11x Capt. Richard Walker (1592-1687) age 95. 
• 11x Jean Fafard (1598-1696) age 98. 
• 11x Elizabeth Franklin (1570-1671) age 101. 
• 12x William Jackson (1585-1688) age 103. 
• 12x George Raymond (1538-1632) age 94. 
• 12x Humphrey Pinney (1588-1683) age 95. 
• 12x Maria Hatton (1573-1670) age 97. 
• 13x John Whicker (1452-1556) age 104. 
• 14x Richard Elwin (1555-1647) age 92. 
• 16x Edward Morris (1455-1556) age 101. 
• 17x Katherine Wallcott (1368-1460) age 92. 
• 24x Eleanor/Alianore de Gorges (1270-1375) age 105. 
• 25x Petronella de Gresley (1147-1249) age 102.

Great-Grandma Hattie’s Diary

My dad has an old metal toolbox, inside which lies my great-grandpa Royal Levant Eaton’s wallet, a true leather billfold. Inside that wallet, I found a small scrap of paper folded up. It was a page from “Our America Engagement Calendar for 1956”. On the other side of it was a brief holiday journal written out in green ink by my great-grandma Hattie Eva Smith.

By the end of 1956, Hattie had been widowed for twenty-five years. My great-grandpa Roy was a prison guard. His son, my grandpa Mark, was sixteen years old was his father was injured during a prison riot and later died. Hattie was left with three children- Helen, Dorothy, and Mark- and had to get a job. She went to school for nursing.

In the journal bit she tucked away, it was Christmas time for her and it is Christmas time again. I corrected her major spelling and grammar errors, but otherwise, I’d like you to meet my great-grandma Hattie, in her own words. She mentions her daughter Helen, who shared an apartment with her. It’s worth noting that Helen was rescued by her brother and his brother-in-law from an extremely abusive relationship. 

December, Sunday 25: Snow all gone and it is Christmas day. Went to Mark’s for the day. Had a good time. Phil’s so cute (that’s my dad!). They sure had a nice Christmas, so glad. They deserve it. Robert and Laura were there for dinner. Mr. and Mrs. Rauson [Ransom, Mark's boss] came in to call.

December, Monday 26: Dorothy came after us and we went down there and had a lovely time. Jack sure had a good time. I know I did. Helen did too and looked better in a short while after we got there.

December, Tuesday 27: Cold day. Helen went to library. Very quiet here. Looked over my xmas presents. Read. Took a nap. Washed a few clothes. They are like boards they froze so stiff. A bit tired today. So much excitement!

December, Wednesday 28: Lovely day. Dorothy came for a little while. Bertha wanted time to go to the movies. We went to Bob’s for evening and had a good time. They sure had a big Christmas. Wish I could do for mine

December, Thursday 29: Went to the movies to see Heidi also Vanishing American. Helen was mad when she found out Bertha paid for it. She wasn’t too nice about it but so it goes. She is so sore at life.

December, Friday 30: Cold. A snow squall this morning. My check came this morning. Will pay the rent 46.00 tonight. Church $10. Also $8 for Miss Schafer for underclothes; slips. Helen’s so depressed over (?)el(?)(?).

December, Saturday 31: This is the end of the year. Hope next year will not be so hard. Have done the best I could. What more can anyone do? Good bye, old year. We hope for better times.

            At this year comes to an end, I feel a kinship with this woman I have never met. After I read the small diary to my father, he talked fondly of her and described the layout of her small apartment to me. I live in my own fading apartment and have spent a year barely getting by, trying to focus on the joy that we are still getting by.

In difficult times, the love of the people in my life is my sunshine. I wonder if it was the same for Grandma Hattie. Because in that respect I am fully blessed. So I’ll borrow her words, her silent prayer, as I greet 2015. This prayer is for me, for my family, and for the world around me.

“Good bye, old year. We hope for better times.”

Putting My Ancestors on Milk Cartons

I’ve been pretty lucky in my quest to flesh out my family tree. Last count I was at over 1700 names and I know I have more than that now. Considering my post from last week, that’s not a lot compared to how many I could have, but it’s still more than most. And yet, even I get stuck in my genealogical search. I hit walls I can’t get through and I move on to something else. Often a new document will come up later on and I discover answers that I thought were lost forever- for three of my four family lines.

My maternal grandma’s recent generations were largely immigrants from Germany and Ireland. They helped build the Erie Canal, farmed in Pendleton, and settled in Lockport, NY. Many of them even lived in the neighborhood I grew up in, though I didn’t know that then.

Usually my luck has come from finding someone else, from a closely related branch, who has also done research or knows family stories I haven’t heard. As far as this branch goes, there don’t seem to be too many close relations. I wish I could put all of their names on the sides of milk cartons with a tagline that says Are You My Relative?

For now, my blog will have to serve me instead, with the hope that someone will type a name into a search, and at the bottom of the page will be this post, and maybe they’ll send me an e-mail. If you share an ancestor with me, please do- I love hearing from fellow cousins!

1x Great-Grandparents:

Robert George Art. Born 1892 SEP 13, Beach Ridge, NY. Died 1974 JUL, Olcott, NY.

Margaret Loretta Burke. Born 1899 JAN 1, NY. Died 1938 MAY 28, Lockport, NY.

They were married 1913 JUL 14, NY.

2x Great-Grandparents:

George Art. Born 1870 MAY 30, NY. Died 1943, NY.

K/Catherine S. Pils. Born 1871 MAY 29, Beach Ridge NY. Died 1946, NY.

They were married 1890. Art may be Artz. Pils may be Piehl.

Children & Birth Year: Robert J 1893, Walter G 1894, Alice E 1899.

Frank Burke. Born 1863 JUL, NY. Died after 1920.

Eliza Conners. Born 1866 DEC, NY. Died after 1910, possibly before 1920.

They were married 1884.

Children & Birth Year: Mary Ellen 1885, Thomas E 1887, Elizabeth F 1890, Lizzie 1891, Margaret Loretta 1892, Irene 1894, David E 1895, Catherine 1897, Anna G 1899, Frank, Jr. 1901, Harriet Z 1904, William 1905.

3x Great-Grandparents:

Adam Art. Born 1836, Hesse-Darmstadt, Germany. Died 1896, NY.

Katherine Maria Schmeelk. Born 1834, Hesse-Darmstadt, Germany. Died 1901, NY.

They immigrated, already married, 1848. Art may be Artz. Schmeelk may be Schmelz, Schmelzer. May also have been Maria Katerina- common in Germany at this time.

Children & Birth Year: John 1862, Francis 1865, Lena 1866, Catherine 1867, Jacob 1869, George 1870.

John F. Pils. Born 1827 AUG, Germany. Died 1911 OCT 31, NY.

Mary Burzee. Information unknown.

John F. Pils immigrated in 1855.

Children & Birth Year: Henry 1860, Mary 1863, John M 1868, Katherine 1871.

Thomas Burke. Born 1834, NY. Died after 1880.

Ellen. Born 1836, NY. Died after 1880.

Married approximately 1850.

Children & Birth Year: William 1860, Frank 1863.

David Conners. Born 1829, Ireland. Died after 1903, NY.

Mary D. Dowd. Born 1834, Ireland. Died after 1903, NY.

Children & Birth Year: Mary Ann 1857, Margaret 1860, Ellen 1861, Eliza 1866, Nora 1870.

4x Great-Grandparents:

[POSSIBLE] Herman Marcus Schmeelk/Schmelk/Scheelk. Born 1750, Hesse-Darmstadt, Germany. Died 1835 Aug 21, unknown.

[POSSIBLE] Catherine Piper. Information unknown.

[possible] Children & Birth Year: Katherine Maria 1834.

Barney Dowd. Born approximately 1810, Ireland. Died after 1870, NY.

Children & Birth Year: Mary 1834.

May your stories find their way to me.

May your lives be remembered.

May your spirits be at peace.

Those Who Walk Behind You

I do a lot of work with my ancestors, those known and unknown to me. Knowing genealogy is not a requirement to Ancestor work but it’s helpful as it allows you to go deeper. But there are numerical facts that will aid your perspective of where you stand in the ancestral tide. I like the water metaphor, of being an ocean that thousands of thousands of rivers flood into. Each one of those rivers branches backwards like a web, like neurons in your brain, like tree branches.

            The most comforting part of the work I do is that I am never alone. The blood of all of those people lives within me. There are untold number of Those Who Came Before me and if a single one of them was removed from the equation, I would not be here. Every life matters, remarkable or not.

Everyone has two parents. It’s science. It’s biology. Every generation you walk backwards, that number doubles. Actually writing the numbers out was staggering to conceive. So here’s how I see it. Even if you don’t know names and dates, you can know that, at the very least you have:

• 2 parents. I am still blessed to have both of mine.
• 4 grandparents. In life I knew three of my biological ones, of whom one is still living. I was also blessed to have three step-grandparents, one of whom is still living.
• 8 great-grandparents 1x. I knew one of mine for seventeen years and miss her still. I have all 8 names of these ancestors.
• 16 great-grandparents 2x. I know all 16 names.
• 32 great-grandparents 3x. I know 31 names.
• 64 great-grandparents 4x. I know 32 names.
• 128 great-grandparents 5x. I know 39 names.
• 256 great-grandparents 6x. I know 55 names.
• 512 great-grandparents 7x. I know 82 names.
• 1,024 great-grandparents 8x. I know 120 names. I have discovered that one of my fantastic New England friends and I share ancestors in Thomas Whittier (1620-1696) and Ruth Green (1626-1710) at this tier [Ruston line].
• 2,048 great-grandparents 9x. I know 143 names.
• 4,096 great-grandparents 10x. I know 153 names. I recently discovered that another friend and I share ancestors in Thomas Canfield (1623-1689) and Phoebe Crane (1626-1690) [Riddle line].
• 8,192 great-grandparents 11x. I know 153 names of my ancestors. My Mayflower ancestors are in this generation.
• 16,384 great-grandparents 12x. I know 105 names.
• 32,768 great-grandparents 13x. I know 69 names.
• 65,536 great-grandparents 14x. I know 39 ancestral names.
• 131,072 great-grandparents 15x. I know 35 ancestral names, including Frideswide Lovel, another favorite ancestress name.
• 262,144 great-grandparents 16x. I know 27 names. This generation was born in the early to mid 1400s.

In case you can’t add that fast, in eighteen generations, at this point, there are a total of 521,586 people walking behind you. Amazing, right? Now I’m going to blow your mind.

• 524,288 great-grandparents 17x. I know 23 names.
• 1,048,576 great-grandparents 18x. I know 25 names.
• 2,097,152 great-grandparents 19x. I know 30 names.
• 4,194,304 great-grandparents 20x. I know 33 names, including one of my favorites, Millicent Ravenscroft.
• 8,388,608 great-grandparents 21x. I know 32 ancestral names.
• 16,777,216 great-grandparents 22x. I know 30 ancestral names.
• 33,554,432 great-grandparents 23x. I know 27 ancestral names, including King Edward I “Longshanks”.
• 67,108,864 great-grandparents 24x. I know 26 ancestral names.
• 134,217,728 great-grandparents 25x. I know 27 ancestral names.
• 268,435,456 great-grandparents 26x. I know 28 ancestral names.
• 536,870,912 great-grandparents 27x. I know 30 ancestral names. It’s 1100 C.E.
• 1,073,741,824 great-grandparents 28x. I know 36 ancestral names, including King Henry II, Eleanor of Aquitaine, Holy Roman Emperor Frederick I Barbarossa, Byzantine Emperor Isaac II Angelos, King Henry I, and Otes the Goldsmith.

            Just thirty generations back, the fact that I have one billion ancestors means that there are so many people walking this planet right now that I am related to, that you are related to. There are strangers on this earth who exist because some couple married and had children centuries ago. The patterns of life are amazing.

            At a total of 30 generations back from you, there are 2,147,480,946 ancestors behind you. That’s 2.1 billion. That’s approximate, as in my own research I have found the same ancestors showing up between multiple family lines, at differing generations. That’s two billion names, with many of them repeating. It’s impossible to think that wouldn’t happen, the further back you go.

I even have names that stretch back further, even to my 51x great-grandparent, Arnoaldus, a Bishop of Metz and a Roman Senator, who died in 611 CE. To which I include my disclaimer of, I can’t prove any of it is true but all of us amateur genealogists rely on what has been documented and what other people decided was true until we can prove it’s wrong.  In theory, at some point, things have to change direction, funneling down to the original ancestors, where the streams merge into fewer and fewer of those who spawned the first children we are all descended from, but I don't know where that tipping point is.  

All of these people were necessary to the creation of you. All of those people, lived their lives as we do, wondering what it was for, questioning what would become of the choices they made and the lives they were living. But in doing this work, the answer becomes clear.

The answer was you.

Family Tree Stories

I was lucky enough to have multiple grandparents. There were seven in total. Some of them were part of my immediate family, some were names on my tree, and some were unknown to me, having died before I was old enough to put my world together in thoughts and memories. It seems to me that sometimes, in our grief, we deal with it by keeping stories precious to us close to the breast. Or we keep memories quiet out of deference to those who come into families after the fact, lest they feel excluded. It’s understandable, but sad for those like me, who don’t share in those memories.

I might not have known them, but there were other family members in my life that did. There are others still alive who remember them. I only recently realized that the older I get, the smaller that group becomes. If I don’t remember, how will those who come into the family after me? I’d like to be able to say more about my father’s mother to my nieces and nephew than, “She died when your grandpa was five.”

I can tell you all the pertinent information about my family tree. I know who was born when and where and who they married. I mostly know when they died and some, how. But that doesn’t tell me about them. Knowing what my birth date is doesn’t tell anyone anything about who I am. What would I want to know from those who do remember them? What would you want to know?

Lives Drawn from Memory

• Family Member: name
• What profession(s) did they have?
• Do you know of any vacations they took; any places of the world they visited?
• What kinds of things did they enjoy doing in their leisure time? Did they have any noticeable hobbies (needlework, gardening, knitting, carpentry, model-making, etc.)?
• How many children did they have? How many boys? How many girls? What were their ages (i.e. how often were they having them)?
• In their lifetime, where were the places they lived?
• Did they serve in the military? What branch? What was their title?
• Describe things you did together when you spent time with them.
• What kind of food did they like to eat?
• What was their favorite season of the year?
• Did they play and/or enjoy sports? Which one(s)?
• What was their favorite holiday?
• Do you remember attending church with them? Or them attending church? Do you know what church they attended?
• Did they drink tea or coffee? Both? Did they have a regular cocktail? Do you know what their favorite drink was?
• Did they listen to music? Did they have a favorite kind of music? A favorite artist?
• Did they have any known addictions or flaws?
• Did they have a busy/active social life?
• Were they members of any clubs or lodges?
• Do you remember them ever being seriously ill?
• What kinds of foods did they enjoy? What types of things did you eat when/if you ate at their house?
• Did they cook?
• What did they do with their time after dinner and before bed?
• Did they read? Did they have a favorite kind of book (romance, history, murder/mystery, science fiction)?
• Did they wear glasses? Hearing aids?
• Did they have tattoos?
• When you think of them, what style of clothing do you associate with them?
• What age were you when you first met them? Did you always know them?
• Did they seem happy most of the time?
• Describe briefly a favorite memory you have of/with them.

These are meant to be prompts. Add your own questions. Tailor them to fit your family. Pass them out to your parents, your aunts and uncles, and your grandparents. Ask them to answer the questions about their parents and grandparents, even great-grandparents if they knew them. Take the information you receive and compile a history that gives flesh to their ghosts.

Tell their stories. Share them. Pass them down through your generations. Whisper the names of your loved ones long after they are gone. Tell the stars their stories if there is no one left to share them with. What is remembered lives, and never truly dies.

Kolachkis for Grandma Ruth

My father’s mother died of cervical cancer when he was five years old. Her name was Ruth Emma Ruston and she was only forty-two. The closer I get to that age myself, the more I find myself thinking about my her. At this age, what would it be like to know that I might have to leave behind my husband and three sons?

My dad has this picture of her at a family party in this fabulous red dress, a bit out of place for a Sunday afternoon get-together. She is looking at the camera with a big smile on her face. My dad said that she went into the hospital the week after that party, and she knew she wasn’t coming out. That dress was her favorite dress.

This year, both at the holidays and in my work, I’ve been focusing on reaching out to her, trying to build traditions with her that we were never able to have. In that spirit, I made kolachki cookies, for the first time, with Grandma Ruth in my butter-yellow kitchen.

As I’ve been doing our genealogy and family history, I find that my family resemblance is to her line of the family, the Ruston line with its Polish heritage. It wasn’t a leap to try to connect with her over a Polish cookie. I am not historically talented in the kitchen, something I’ve been working on for the last few years. So my offering to her spirit was the attempt to make something that was a bit more complicated.

The dough was prepared the night before and chilled in the fridge. The black walnut filling was mixed and beat into submission. And then I pressed the dough out between two layers of wax paper until it was paper thin, almost translucent. As I rolled the dough out, firmly and repeatedly, I thought about my Grandma Ruth. I thought about the line of Rustons, who come through Wickers and Whitchers, Whitchers and DeLoziers, Loziers and Zabriskis, Zabriskis and Terhunes, Zabriskis and Van Der Lindes, back into Poland. And I rolled the dough thin and smooth.

It felt as if dozens of women stood in the kitchen with me, cutting out three inch squares, dolloping golden filling on them, and folding opposite corners in over each other. The warmth from the oven made fingers and dough supple and into the oven they went to cook. Besides the fact that I need to work on my folding skills, they are delicate and flaky, and delicious.

I wish my father could have better known his mother. I wish that I could have known her. I’m not sure if she ever made kolachkis or if her family ever had, but in my heart I made them to honor my unknown Grandmother and all who came before her, so that I could be here, with hands in warm dough, and heart full of love, peace and wonder.