Leave the Recent Dead to Rest

This is the time of year when neighbors decorate their yards with fake cemetery stones, when cobweb-covered skeletons hang from trees and porches. Leaves around us dry, fall and die, leaving the bare branches visible, and our minds wander to thoughts of loss. It is this time of year when those we have recently lost are close to our hearts and in our thoughts.

In my Ancestor practice, I talk a lot about actually working with your dead. For my purposes, there are three levels of dead. There is your Ancestral Dead, comprising those of your family line you never knew in life. Your Beloved Dead are those you knew and loved in this life that are passed, whether of your bloodline or not. And then there is your Recent Dead, those who have died within this last year, or since last Samhain, if you regularly wish your recent dead rest. Just remember that time is not consistent, for us or them.

I spend a lot of time honoring the Recent Dead in Samhain rituals, lighting candles for them and wishing them safe passage. I shepherd lost souls across to whatever comes next. I know some spirits wander because they do not know where to go. It’s like standing at a subway station and the train comes and the door opens and all that exists beyond it is space without firmament. The spirits who are still attached to their physical bodies don’t know how to move through that space, thinking in terms that no longer apply, so they don’t.

Mostly what I want to tell you about is why I don’t do work or call upon my recent dead. And why you shouldn’t either. It’s not about them. It’s about you.

Not all Recent Dead cross over, but mostly they do. Still, sometimes a part of them stays behind because they’re not ready, or they have unfinished business. And even if they do, that business can wait. Because you need to take care of you.

When we grieve, we are walking in two worlds. The world of the mundane, where life revolves and continues despite our sorrow, and the world where every moment is a reminder of how our loved ones are no longer with us. That’s the world where every time you reach out for them or you turn to talk to them, where every one of those moments is sharp and it cuts. And no one is in that world but you, existing slightly outside of the one everyone else is in.

Sometimes we forget that others around us don’t feel the pain we’re feeling. Sometimes they forget we’re still feeling the pain we’re feeling. So we are not in a stable place, even if we’re functional. That is extremely important. We use our intuitive bodies to do magic. Our intuitive bodies and our emotional bodies are not the same, though they overlap. And our emotional bodies are grieving.

I do not call on my Recent Dead for help or aid. I do not ask them to visit me in my work, in my meditations, or in my dreams. Because it would be too hard if they came. It would be too hard to open my eyes in the morning, after experiencing them, and re-remembering that they are gone.

A decade ago, friends of ours let us stay in their empty house while in town for holiday with my family. They were out of town for Christmas, as earlier that year my friend had taken his life in that house. His wife and son were recovering, choosing to spend their first holiday elsewhere. I woke in the middle of the night and he was standing at the end of the bed. He wanted to know where they were. It was Christmas. He came to be with them. Where was the tree? Where was his son? I took a deep breath. His eyes were so clear and bright, so much like the man I knew before his illness.

I told him he had to leave them alone. I told him it was too hard for them, because of what he did. I told him his being around made it hard for them to move forward. I told him he made his choice and he had to own it.

He was sad. But he disappeared. And I fell back to sleep. The human part of me wanted to ask my friend questions. But even spirits rewrite their own stories. It’s what holds them here. In hauntings, it is always the truth that sets the ghost free. And as a healer, as an Edgewalker, that was all I had to offer him.

Afterwards, my friends’ lives improved. The queer sensations that had been haunting them in the house stopped. Magic is real.

Magic isn’t safe.

So we don’t work with the Recent Dead. At Samhain, we ground that grief with flame and fire and we hold that light in our hearts. We know that peace of sorts will find us. And that we will accept the inevitable nature of death, even as it applies to us. Eventually. And that hope sustains us.

On All Hallow’s Eve I will offer the names of my Recent Dead and I will wish them peace. But I will not open myself to contact. I will not ask them questions. I will offer them tears and reach back to my Beloved and Ancestral Dead for comfort. Until next year, I will leave my most recently deceased to their rest. 

The Autumn Tree

As a child, I thought that the splash of autumn color was the final death cry of the tree, screaming against the end in red, orange, and yellow defiance. I believed every fall was a little death for each tree, except for the pines, the immortals of their world. I used to hug the trees, bare of their leaves, and whisper comfort to them, telling them it would be all right, that their leaves would come back in the spring.

There was a lot about death I couldn’t perceive then, but even in my misunderstanding, I created rituals designed to comfort the living.

It is in these last weeks before they die that the leaves are able reveal their true selves to men who might otherwise bow too humbly beneath their splendor. Could we stand against the awe and wonder if our world was painted so vibrantly around us every day?

As they die, as their chlorophyll drains, the true skin is revealed and the leaves fill our world with wonder. We honor them as they burst and burn and fall to the ground. We trample the bones of them beneath our feet, reveling in the crisp sound cutting through the air that signifies autumn. We make pyres of their dead, careening into piles, giggling as they crunch beneath our weight. Even in death, we can also find joy.

The pieces of them we crush and scatter underfoot nourish the ground beneath the trunk of their tree. Their bones are meant to be left to mulch and feed their mother, just as our dead are meant to be buried beneath the earth, exposed to the elements, to nourish the world around it. Nature shows us how to live within the pattern of the larger world, but we can’t perceive it from our square cities of cement and asphalt.

We don’t bury our dead unfettered. We bag up the leaves from our yards and take them away from their home. We do it because death isn’t pretty. Because we do not want to see the crisp carcasses decaying before our eyes, as if it taints the image of their beauty.

But all beauty fades. Should that make what remains less beautiful? Is it not beautiful that each tree sees multiple generations of humans come and go, just as we watch a generation of leaves bloom, grow, and die for each year that we are alive? Is there no beauty in death's place in our cycles of life? I stand in wonder, gazing at the mountains around me. I watch as red, yellow, orange, and russet fire meet their end.

An Ancestral Parade of Pictures

The store my 2x Great-Grandpa Hiram Wicker and his brother William owned, late 1800s (L), Lockport, NY.

The ancestors who came before us were people just like us, struggling to get by and chasing their dreams. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that about people we didn’t know. So I like to go through the pictures that I have of them, looking for small glimpses into their lives. May they guide my dreams and live on in my deeds.

 My Mother's Side

My maternal grandparents, Patricia Art (living) & Richard James Riddle (1931-2004) 

1x Great-Grandparents Harold Lafayette Riddle (1903-1975) & Elsie Elizabeth Durant (1904-1994)

2x Great-Grandparents Lafayette Riddle (1873-1938) & Frances Ann Gillette (1877-1963), front center two. That's my great-grandpa Harold in the light suit in the back row.

We are guessing the man behind my Great-Grandparents Elsie and Harold is her father, my 2x Great-Grandparents George Francis Durant (1871-1934). It's the only picture we have of him.

3x Great-Grandparents Levi H. Gillette (1845-1911) & Jane Berry (1841-1901) and their children. The girl on the left in the back row is my 2x great-grandma Frances.

4x Great-Grandparents Ezra Wheeler Gillette (1819-1849) & Mary Ann Boots (1825-1899)

4x Great-Grandparents Francis Berry (1816-1900?) & Elizabeth Ann Hill (1825-1899)

My Father's Side

My paternal grandparents, Mark Eaton (1915-1982) & Ruth Ruston (1916-1959)

My father’s mother’s line.

1x Great-Grandparents Frank William Ruston (1888-1971) & Minnie Estelle Wicker (1890-1964)

2x Great-Grandparents Charles Evan Ruston (1847-1933) & Ruth Ireland (1861-1940). They're the center two in the back row, surrounded by their children and their children's families.

2x Great-Grandparents Hiram King Wicker (1844-1908) & Emma Angeline Whitcher (1845-1929). Hiram and Emma are the center couple. This photo was taken before they had children. All the little ones belong to Hiram's brothers.

3x Great-Grandfather Bailey Harrison Whitcher (1799-1865) & Ordelia DeLozier (1810-1888)

4x Great-Grandmother Lucy Raymond (Lozier) (1789-1874)

My father’s father’s line.

1x Great-Grandparents Royal Levant Eaton (1873-1931) & Hattie Eva Smith (1882-1969). They're with their oldest daughter Helen.

2x Great-Grandparents Bennett Eaton (1847-1909) & Theresa Cordelia Tenney (1850-1930). In the photo Theresa is holding their son Hubert.

2x Great-Grandparents Silas Parker Smith (1851-1896) & Hattie Eva Dutcher (1857-1882).

3x Great-Grandparents Ammi Smith (1824-1918) & Sophia Sears (1829-1909)

3x Great-Grandparents Reuben Feagles Dutcher (1831-1908) & Eliza Marsh Bird (1837-1926)

May we all remember the many who have come before us. Whether we know their names or faces, may they live on in our hearts. What is remembered, lives. What is remembered never truly dies.

An Evolution of Spirit

“I am fundamentally an optimist. Whether that comes from nature or nurture, I cannot say. Part of being optimistic is keeping one's head pointed toward the sun, one's feet moving forward. There were many dark moments when my faith in humanity was sorely tested, but I would not and could not give myself up to despair. That way lays defeat and death.” ~ Nelson Mandela

I talk pretty on my blog about kindness and compassion. My words are honest and I work every day to live by them. But I wasn’t always this person. We are born with open hearts, and then the world happens and shapes us and we spend the rest of our lives fighting to get back to that original place of faith in humanity. Every year I get closer. But I like people to know how different I was, to understand how much I have changed. Because if they do not perceive my change, how can they believe themselves capable of the same transformation?

“Loving ourselves through the process of owning our story is the bravest thing we’ll ever do.” ~Brené Brown

I used to be an anger ball. By that I mean I was very quick to anger. I was angry at the violence I had suffered. Angry at the people around me who found relief by taking out their pain and insecurity on others. I was angry at the hardness of a world I did not seem to belong in. I was no better. I curled in or lashed out, always one of two extremes, as a way of taking what I needed from the world to survive it.

“Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured.” ~Mark Twain

I didn’t know there was another way. I was a heavenly body on the inside of the circuit, the sun that the solar system revolved around. I didn’t see that the world was smothering me because I put myself at the center of it. All I saw was that I was suffocating. And I couldn’t see a way out.

“The way is not in the sky. The way is in the heart.” ~Buddha

I was at a crossroads, my own personal Equinox. I was disconnected from myself, from the earth beneath me, from the sky above me. I could see the forest of trees but not the roots of them entwining and holding each other up. I didn’t know how to bend. I didn’t know how to flow. Everything was fire and lava. I wasn’t living in the world, I was burning my way through it.

“If we could change ourselves, the tendencies in the world would also change. As a man changes his own nature, so does the attitude of the world change towards him. … We need not wait to see what others do.” ~Mahatma Gandhi

When we feel lonely we push out at the world, keeping it further at bay. I pushed everyone away before they could leave me, before they could hurt me. I thought pain was inevitable and that was the face I gave the world.

“Listen—are you breathing just a little, and calling it a life?” ~Mary Oliver

It wasn’t what I wanted. I was at a crossroads and I made a choice. I turned away from chaos and insanity, from trying to fit in and struggling to breathe. I let go of the anger that was eating me from the inside out. I didn’t know what to do with it, so I just released it in small breaths. I didn’t know what to do with it, so I gave it up to the universe. I rediscovered faith and turned my attention to finding a path that felt firm beneath my feet. I took the time to get to know myself.

“Can you remember who you were, before the world told you who you should be?” ~Danielle LaPorte

I had defined myself for so long by what I didn’t like, what I didn’t want, and what I thought I was supposed to want, that I found I didn’t know what it was I did want. What did I like? Who was I? I first heard an answer in a ritual in the dark in the mountains. Deep in the core of you, what are you? I quieted my soul and listened, and the word that came from my mouth surprised me.

“Light,” I said, with tears in my throat. And later, the overwhelming answer I found was kindness, goodness, compassion, and joy. When I removed the protective layers from my heart, I discovered the brightness I had been searching for all along within me.

“The dark does not destroy the light; it defines it. It’s our fear of the dark that casts our joy into the shadows.” ~Brené Brown

The world I live in is a better place for having me in it. I feed it my hope and my optimism and my compassion. It does not mean I am perfect. It does not mean my heart is not weighed down by the violence and evil that men do. It does not mean that I do not cry in the quiet nights within the safety of my walls. But I cry because I am connected now. I do feel the part of the earth beneath me and the sky above me. I feel part of the roots connecting the trees beneath the surface.

“Softness is not weakness. It takes courage to stay delicate in a world this cruel.” ~Beau Taplin

“Be soft. Do not let the world make you hard. Do not let pain make you hate. Do not let the bitterness steal your sweetness. Take pride that even though the rest of the world may disagree, you still believe it to be a beautiful place.” ~Iain S. Thomas

Do not be ashamed of the ways the world has tested you. Do not be ashamed of the times you have fallen, of the times you have failed to get it right the first time. What matters is that you picked your head up. What matters is that you picked yourself up and you kept going, even though you did not have faith that what lay ahead was better. It is not our perfect moments that define who we are. It is the moments we are imperfect that shows the spirit that lies beneath the flesh and bone. It is how we carry ourselves through those moments that reveal the soul of us.

“Thousands of candles can be lit from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared.” ~Buddha

We are meant to follow our own paths. It is never too late to change tracks and find your way back to you. Our original state is harmony and peace. The world is hard but there are others in it, lighting candles in their hearts against the dark, struggling to grow despite the resistance. Every action is a choice. When you stand at the crossroad, open yourself to compassion and hope. You just might be surprised where you find it.

“For a seed to achieve its greatest expression, it must come completely undone. The shell cracks, its insides come out and everything changes. To someone who doesn’t understand growth, it would look like complete destruction.” ~Cynthia Occelli

Wonder Woman and Me

Every once in a while I get the chance to read advanced copies of books. Recently that included The Secret History of Wonder Woman by Jill Lepore, due for publication next month. As an uncorrected proof, I can’t quote from the book, so I won’t. In the opening chapter she discusses the lineage of the creator of the Wonder Woman comics, William Moulton Marston, who published them under the name Charles Moulton.

It’s not well known that William Moulton Marston was the inventor of the lie detector test, called the polygraph machine. But those fans of the superhero, with her magical lasso of truth, will not find it hard to imagine his real life world spilling into his imagined one.

Wonder Woman is a hero of mine, but especially was when I was growing up. I wore my underoos, like a lot of kids my age, every night to bed. I used to wear them under my bathrobe while watching the television show starring Lynda Carter. My parents fashioned me feminum bracelets by cutting the bottoms out of Dixie cups and slitting them up the side to make a cuff. On the television, when Diana Prince spun around, transforming into Wonder Woman, I would twirl with her, throwing off my robe and exposing my outfit.

I have so much to thank William Moulton Marston for. Where would my childhood have been without such a strong female superhero? Marston’s grandfather, Henry W. Moulton of Boston scribed the Moulton Annals, which traced his family lineage back to the Battle of Hastings, 1066.

It just so happens that, on my mother’s side, I am also descended from the Moulton who fought at the Battle of Hastings, alongside William the Conqueror. I’m not sure exactly where our lines merge. I come from the Moultons of Salem. It’s likely that he comes from the Moultons of Boston, but somewhere, on one side of the ocean, we have a common ancestor. [In a writer’s world, where our characters are our creations, I am totally okay with saying that Wonder Woman, as the child of Marston, is my very distant cousin.]

All Moulton lines trace back to one man…

• Thomas de Multon was a Norman who fought with William the Conqueror at the Battle of Hastings in 1066. He was rewarded with tracts of land in Lincolnshire. The surname derived from their place of residence, which was Meules, Calvados, Lisieux, Orbec, Normandy. In England, they were under tenants of Baldwin FitzGilbert. Sheriff of Devon.
• In 1100, the town of Moulton was granted a deed for public markets (important to a town’s growth).

Another Moulton of note a few years down the line…

• Thomas de Multon of Gillesland in Cumberland, attended Richard I in his crusades from 1189-1199. He is a prominent figure in Sir Walter Scott’s tale The Talisman (Tales of the Crusaders).

Another man of on record…

• The name of Thomas Moulton appears on the Magna Charta granted by King John in 1215.

The one who moved from Moulton, England to Ormesby, England…

• 17x: John Moulton (1415-1494) and wife unknown
• 16x: Robert Moulton (1465-1516) and wife unknown
• 15x: John Moulton (1490-1549) and Agnes Dowwife (1490-1549)
• 14x: Robert Moulton (1500-1535) and Margaret Wattes (1491-1549)

Living in Scratsby and Hemsby, England…

• 13x: Thomas Moulton (1535-1587) and Joanna Green (1532-1589)
• 12x: Robert Moulton (1565-1633) and Mary Smith (1579-1636)

The one who crossed an ocean to Salem, Massachusetts…

• 11x: Robert Moulton (1590-1655) and Deborah Edwards (1599-1656)

In Salem, Massachusetts…

• 10x: Robert Moulton (1616-1665) and Abigail Goode (1619-1666)
• 9x: Robert Moulton (1644-1731) and Mary Cooke (1649-1732)
• 8x: Robert Moulton (1675-1756) and Hannah Groves (1676-1764)

Elsewhere in MA…

• 7x: Freeborn Moulton (1717–1792) and Rebekah Walker (1717-1802)

And marrying an immigrant from Ireland…

• 6x: Rebekah Moulton (b.1742) and Thomas Ridel (1739-1809)

            My 9x Great-Grandfather Robert Moulton, and his son, were living in Salem during the Witch Trials that-were-not-about-actual-witches-but-about-independent-women-and-land-ownership. Before the trials, he had stood before the village with some case against Giles Corey. Indeed, from most accounts in the city transcripts, Giles Corey was a difficult man. But it is important for me to note that Robert Moulton is on record testifying that he knew one of the girls accusing others of witchcraft was lying.              

           The idea of truth is important to me. From a man in Salem standing against a false accuser to a man creating a polygraph for psychological purposes to study the ways people’s brains could lie to themselves, to a woman striving to write stories from a place of emotional vulnerability, I take seriously the path my ancestors and I have been on.

            May I stand behind the words I say. May my words be honest and kind. May that kindness help my heart open to grace. May that grace be expressed in the face I show the world. May I walk the world with steady footing, that I may stand behind the words I say.

My desk, 2014.

What Cousin, How Many Times Removed?

No matter how many times someone explained to me how to figure out the relationship with distant cousins, I never understood how to figure it out. I’ve met quite a few people through my blog who share ancestors with me and I wanted to learn how we are connected. I’m going to break it down as simply as I can.

Cousins

In order to determine what cousin you are to another descendant, you have to find your common ancestor. If it is your 3x great-grandparent, and a fellow descendants 3x great-grandfather, then you are fourth cousins. This is the easy part.

• Same parents? Siblings
• Same grandparents? First cousins.
• Same 1x great-grandparents? Second cousins.
• Same 2x great-grandparents? Third cousins.
• Same 3x great-grandparents? Fourth cousins.
• Same 4x great-grandparents? Fifth cousins.
• Same 5x great-grandparents? Sixth cousins.
• Same 6x great-grandparents? Seventh cousins.
• Same 7x great-grandparents? Eighth cousins.

I will also note here, that if you only have one grandparent in common, due to second or third marriages, the genealogical world considers that you are half-blood cousins.

Removed

If your number doesn’t come out the same, you need to find out how many generations it takes to connect differing generations to the same ancestor. This is much easier than it sounds! To decide on what cousin you are to each other, you go with the lower number.

If they are your 4x great-grandparents and the other person’s 6x great-grandparents, then you are fifth cousins. How many times removed? All you have to do is subtract the lower number from the higher number. So, fifth cousins twice removed.

I recently connected with a woman who shares ancestors with me. My 3x great-grandparents Bailey Harrison Whitcher and Ordelia Lozier are her 4x great-grandparents. Which makes us fourth cousins, once removed.

If you are someone who needs a visual, this graph should help:

Your à vs. Their:	Grand	1x Great	2x Great	3x Great	4x Great	5x Great	6x Great	7x Great
Grand	First Cousin	First Cousin Once Removed	First Cousin Twice Removed	First Cousin 3x Removed	First Cousin 4x Removed	First Cousin 5x Removed	First Cousin 6x Removed	First Cousin 7x Removed
1x Great	First Cousin Once Removed	Second Cousin	Second Cousin Once Removed	Second Cousin Twice Removed	Second Cousin 3x Removed	Second Cousin 4x Removed	Second Cousin 5x Removed	Second Cousin 6x Removed
2x Great	First Cousin Twice Removed	Second Cousin Once Removed	Third Cousin	Third Cousin Once Removed	Third Cousin Twice Removed	Third Cousin 3x Removed	Third Cousin 4x Removed	Second Cousin 5x Removed
3x Great	First Cousin 3x Removed	Second Cousin Twice Removed	Third Cousin Once Removed	Fourth Cousin	Fourth Cousin Once Removed	Fourth Cousin Twice Removed	Fourth Cousin 3x Removed	Fourth Cousin 4x Removed
4x Great	First Cousin 4x Removed	Second Cousin 3x Removed	Third Cousin Twice Removed	Fourth Cousin Once Removed	Fifth Cousin	Fifth Cousin Once Removed	Fifth Cousin Twice Removed	Fifth Cousin 3x Removed
5x Great	First Cousin 5x Removed	Second Cousin 4x Removed	Third Cousin 3x Removed	Fourth Cousin Twice Removed	Fifth Cousin Once Removed	Sixth Cousin	Sixth Cousin Once Removed	Sixth Cousin Twice Removed
6x Great	First Cousin 6x Removed	Second Cousin 5x Removed	Third Cousin 4x Removed	Fourth Cousin 3x Removed	Fifth Cousin Twice Removed	Sixth Cousin Once Removed	Seventh Cousin	Seventh Cousin Once Removed
7x Great	First Cousin 7x Removed	Second Cousin 6x Removed	Third Cousin 5x Removed	Fourth Cousin 4x Removed	Fifth Cousin 3x Removed	Sixth Cousin Twice Removed	Seventh Cousin Once Removed	Eighth Cousin

Somewhere we are all related. I have met fourth cousins and twenty-third cousins twice removed. I meet everyone with that thought in my heart. No matter our differences, somewhere we are cousins.

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.