52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks - Week 43

The past few weeks I have been out of town and didn't have access to my genealogical information in order to write, so I am getting back in the swing of things with this post about Cause of Death. The most unusual and perhaps saddest cause of death that I have come across so far is that of my 2nd great-uncle, John A. Colgan. John was born in Cincinnati, Ohio in late June of 1880, and he died 22 August 1881 in Cincinnati at the age of 14 months. He was buried 23 August 1881 in Section 2, Lot 12, Part S, Range 10 of the Saint Joseph’s New Cemetery, where the rest of his family was also laid to rest.

His parents were Edward C. Colgan and Bridget (McHugh) Colgan, both of whom were born in Ireland and died in Cincinnati. John was the youngest of nine children, six of whom died in infancy or early childhood. On a death card which I found at the Cincinnati Department of Health, the cause of death for John was listed as “inanition”.

John A. Colgan death record

Inanition is the same as starvation, which is a severe deficiency in caloric energy, nutrient, and vitamin intake. It is the most extreme form of malnutrition, which is the biggest contributor to child mortality. The most common cause of malnutrition is poverty. But were the Colgans impoverished?

On the 1880 census, taken on 10 June 1880, Edward Colgan was listed as being 45 years of age and working as a bookkeeper. His wife Bridget was 35 and a homemaker, and also living in the home were the following children: Catherine age 16, Charles age 11, Barbara age 9 and Clara age 7. (Clara died the next year of smallpox at the age of 8.) Obviously John was not yet born at the time the census was taken. This particular census year doesn’t indicate if those listed owned or rented their homes, though if someone was a boarder, that was noted. The Colgan family was not shown to be boarding at the home on Mill Street.

It would certainly seem like Edward would have been able to adequately provide for his family. What caused the baby to die of starvation? And how did these parents handle the loss of yet one more of their children?

Family History Writing Challenge Day 7

In looking at whether or not George Hightower, Jr. could possibly be the father of Thompson, it helps to establish where George was living in relationship to Thompson. First, here is some background on George. He was born 31 March 1770 in Amelia County, Virginia to George Hightower, Sr. and Susannah (Thorn) Hightower. The Hightower and Thorn families are well-documented as they are both early settlers in what would later become the State of Virginia. These families came from England and settled in an area that was not yet the United States.

There are records for a Joshua Hightower in North Farnham Parish, in the late 1600s. North Farnham Parish was located in the general area of what would become Richmond in 1737. The Parish records date back to 1663, and it is in those records that the Hightower, Thorn and other related families are listed.

George Hightower, Sr. and his wife Susannah sold their land in Amelia County in 1771, and in 1776 purchased 715 acres of land adjacent to Hightower relatives in Lunenburg County. By 1787 they sold this property and moved to Campbell County, Virginia. Susannah died there in 1797.

It was in Campbell County that George Hightower, Jr. married Frances Ann Hall on 3 February 1796. Their daughter Mary Polly b. 1797 and son Austin b. 1799 were born in this location. Mary Polly’s marriage record lists George Hightower as her father. Austin is buried in the same pioneer cemetery in Ursa, Illinois as George and Frances, so he is most likely their son.

By 1800 both George Sr. and George Jr. are listed in the tax records in Jessamine County, Kentucky. Jessamine County was formed in 1799 from Fayette County, one of the three original counties founded by Virginia on 30 June 1780. (The other two were Jefferson and Lincoln.) The State of Kentucky separated from Virginia in 1792. It is possible that the men did not move but it was simply that their county name was changed.

By the 1810 census, George Jr. was in Campbell County, Kentucky. This record indicates there were 3 males under the age of 10, 4 females under the age of 10, and 1 female aged 10 thru 15 in addition to the adult male and female in the house. Mary Polly would have been about 13 in 1810, and Austin would have been about 11. Who are the other children?

The 1820 census shows George Hightower, Jr. in Covington, Campbell County, Kentucky. It also lists 2 males under age 10, 3 males ages 10-15, 1 male 45 and over, 1 female under 10, 3 females 10-15, 1 female 16-25 and 1 female 45 and over. It is possible that their daughter Mary Polly and her children were living with them. She was married in 1815 and since her first husband died young, she could be the 1 female 16-25 who appears here. Austin did not marry until 1823, so you would think that he would show up as a male 16-25.

By 1830 George and Frances were living in Adams County, Illinois. The census for that year indicates a male 15-19, a female 15-19, and a female 20-29 in addition to George and Frances. It would be very interesting to know what brought them to the small community of Ursa. Their daughter Mary Polly and her second husband did not move to Ursa until about 1850, and their son Austin moved there with his family around 1840.

Many Hightower family trees online list these additional children with George and Frances as the parents: Rolla b. 1802 in Kentucky, Richard b. 1812 in Kentucky, Archibald b. 1814 in Kentucky, and of course Thompson b. 1815 in Kentucky. I have found no proof of parentage on any of these boys. I do know, however, that they all lived in Campbell County (which became Kenton County).

Any of the older teens or young adults on the George Hightower, Jr.’s census records could be boarders, servants or laborers, of course. Since these early census records that do not list names of people in the household, they are of somewhat limited use.

But what the records do indicate is that George and Frances Hightower were living in Campbell County at the time of Thompson’s birth around 1815. Thompson could be one of the males under the age of 10 in their 1820 census, and he could be the 15-19 year old male in their 1830 census from Adams County, Illinois.

But is he?

Family History Writing Challenge Day 6

The best way to obtain the information about an ancestor's parents is by looking at birth and/or death certificates. Sometimes the application for marriage can be helpful, especially if the bride was underage or if a bond was posted. From census records, it is believed that Thompson Hightower was born around 1815 in Kentucky. As mentioned earlier, up until 1840, he lived in what was then Campbell County. From 1840 on, the area became Kenton County.

Kentucky did not begin statewide registration of births until a law was passed requiring it in 1852. However the law was repealed in 1862 so compliance was sketchy until 1911 when a new law was passed. Consequently, no birth records exist in Campbell County before 1852, and many records between 1852 and 1911 are missing. Since he was born about 1815, no birth record exists for Thompson.

Campbell County Marriage Book

Marriage records were recorded as early as 1795 in the state. As indicated in the previous post, I have secured the 1838 marriage bond for Thompson and Elizabeth Hopper. Because Thompson was over the age of 21, his parents are not listed on the bond.

Death records in Kentucky began the same year as birth records - 1852. They also have the same fate as birth records in that many between 1852 and 1911 are missing. Thompson died in 1866, so that is most likely why I have been unable to locate death information on him in Kenton County.

The State of Kentucky was not going to make it easy for me find the answers I need. Too bad Thompson isn’t around so I could just pose the question, “Who’s your daddy?”

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks - Week 1

This year I am going to shift my weekly posts from a focus on my memories and the Family Search 52 Stories project to stories about my ancestors. A Facebook post by the Hamilton County Genealogical Society brought my attention to the 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks challenge. Amy Johnson Crow started the challenge several years ago in an effort to encourage genealogists to write and share information about their ancestors.

Very general writing prompts are provided for the 52 Ancestors challenge. For the first week of 2018, the prompt is Start. Obviously that leaves the door wide open in terms of what I can write about. Do I want to start with me? Or how about starting with the oldest person alive in my family? Or perhaps the person farthest back in my family tree?

My mother is the infant in this picture, taken in 1920 in
Cincinnati, OH. Also in the photo are her father Michael
Crusham, mother Mary (Mayme) Crusham, and sisters
Marie and Stella.

As I pondered these questions, I decided to write about how I got started in researching my ancestors.  Like most people, I remember hearing my older relatives talk about growing up, telling stories about their parents and other people in the family. Also like most people, I paid little attention to what they were discussing. It seemed boring to me as a child. One of my cousins, however, got interested in genealogy while in her 30s, and drew up a small family tree of the Crusham family. This was way before the computer provided much help in the way of charts, and long before the Internet offered meaningful information to family historians. She researched the old-fashioned way, pouring through old records at the local repositories. My mom gave me a copy of the tree in July of 1989 when she and my dad stopped at our house on their way to visit my brother in Colorado.

That was the last time I saw my mom alive as she was killed in a car accident on the way home from their Colorado trip. Suddenly I realized that an important link between me and my ancestors had been severed. I could no longer ask my mom questions about growing up, her parents, or what it was like to be a new mother alone when her husband was sent to the China-Burma-India Theater during WWII. How I wished I had listened more closely to the stories when I was young! In 1989 I was 33 years old with a son who was 4 and would grow up not remembering the most important woman in my life.

Last photo taken of me and my son, Andy,
with my mom in April of 1989.

My mother's death sparked in me a desire to actively research my family while other, older members of the clan were still alive. I have picked their brains, listened to their stories, and done my best to document where we came from. I've had the privilege of visiting a few ancestral towns abroad, meeting distant relatives along the way. Most of all, I've gained a greater sense of who I am, due in no small part to the tenacity and sacrifices made by my ancestors.

As a side note, it is fitting that this post is being made on January 6th, which would have been my mom's 98th birthday. Happy heavenly birthday, mom!

Family Search 52 Stories Week 13

What are some of the most momentous events in your life that have shaped you into the person you are today?

This is a very thought-provoking question, isn't it? The first thing that comes to mind is going away to college, since this definitely led to the second big event in my life. Even though I was the baby of the family, I think that I was fairly independent as a teenager. But college life certainly put me in a position to have to make my own decisions, budget my finances, and do my own cleaning and laundry all while juggling classes and a job. It was really the first step toward leaving home.

As I have written about previously, I met my husband at college. Getting married certainly qualifies as a momentous event. The reality sets in that you are leaving your mom and dad, and the relationship with them will never be quite the same. That's not a bad thing, necessarily, but it is certainly different. Instead of seeking their advice and council, you now turn to your spouse. Going from being a party of one to a party of two takes some adjustment and compromise. I'm not sure anything prepares you properly for the whole marriage deal.

Mom and me 1978

Without a doubt the thing that impacted me the most (so far) in my life was losing my mom when I was only 33. My mother and I had an incredibly close relationship. We rarely fought, even through the teenage angst years. Like most young people caught up in the day to day issues of work and parenting, I took having my mom in my life for granted. I thought we had years to enjoy each other's company. That all changed in the blink of an eye.

At that point I realized that so much of what we worry about, complain about, and get worked up about is inconsequential in the big scheme of things. Life is, indeed, very short. I have really tried to live in the moment, and not let little things bother me. I'm not always successful, but I think I am a happier person because of this philosophy.

Family Search 52 Stories Week 8

My husband and I met with an attorney this week to create a new will since our last one was done in 1987. While that document is certainly sufficient in most respects, I doubt that anyone would be able to easily find the executor. He was a trusted friend of ours at the time, but moved to Texas a couple decades ago. I have no idea where he is at now, or if he's even alive as we lost touch a long time ago. Since death is on my mind, it seems appropriate for this week's story to relate to it on some level.

Do you know where you’d like to be laid to rest one day? Will you be buried near relatives and ancestors, or in the place you lived most of your life (if the two are different)?

gravestone

Being laid to rest - isn't that an interesting turn of phrase? Since you are dead, you aren't really resting. At any rate, my husband and I have talked extensively about this. My parents are buried in a cemetery 350 miles away from where we live. His parents have their funerals planned and their cemetery plots paid for up in Minnesota. We never considered being buried in either of those locations. To me the point of having a gravestone is for those you leave behind, to visit, grieve and pay their respects. I think it made a lot of sense when families lived and died in the communities in which they had been born. Our children live far away, and we don't even know where we will end up living following retirement, so it makes no sense to pre-pay funeral or burial expenses in our city.

The other consideration for us is that we have worked in the "green" industry for over 20 years, so we are very sensitive to sustainability. Cemeteries are not necessarily the best use of land, though the owners are paying more attention to environmental issues these days. Cremation and green burials come to mind, and certainly cremation is the route we will both choose to go. We just haven't come to any decision about what will be done with our cremains. Maybe keeping them in an urn makes the most sense because then they will be portable. For now, it is enough to know that we both wish to be cremated.

While the environmentalist in me knows that cremation without a burial plot is the right thing to do, the genealogist in me cringes a bit. Burial records and tombstones are sometimes the only proof you can find that an ancestor lived and died. What is the replacement when someone is cremated? Will the funeral homes share these records as they often share burial records? It is something that gives me pause, for sure. It won't prevent me from being cremated, but my inner genealogist will shed a little tear.

Küblers to America

Büsserach, Switzerland

Thus ends the chronicle of my branch of the Kübler family from Büsserach, Switzerland to America. I've traveled to Büsserach and walked the villages, inhaled the mountain air and seen the beautiful  countryside through my own eyes. I've met some of the descendants of Vinzenz Joseph Kübler's siblings and other extended family. I even slept in the building where Vinzenz made the exchange of money for his land so that he could come to America with his family. Despite all that, I cannot conceive of what it must have felt like to take a last look at everyone and everything you have ever known and loved and say a final good-bye. How tough was his life that he would risk everything to take an arduous one way trip on a sailing vessel with his young family to an unknown country and an unknown future?

I never had the opportunity to know him, of course, as this was long before I was born. I barely knew my grandfather, Joseph Kubler. Although I was 13 when he died, traveling from Des Moines to Cincinnati in the 1960s was not an easy trip due to the lack of interstates. Busy, two-lane highways meant the drive was long and often slow, so visits back "home" were limited to once a year at best. Our family always stayed with my mom's parents, never at the Kubler house. We would go over to see Grandma and Grandpa Kubler when we were in town, however. They were nice to me, but I could sense the closer relationship that the cousins who lived in Cincinnati had with them. I always felt a bit like an outsider.

My memories of Grandma Kubler are much clearer, as I was 23 when she passed. She was kind and friendly, and a great cook. It was always a treat to be able to have a meal with her. It seemed like she was always in the kitchen when we visited. I'm grateful for her cooking skills as she passed them along to my dad. Though my mom was always the cook in our family during the week, on the weekends my dad nearly always helped out in the kitchen. Once he retired, cooking and cleaning were activities he shared with my mom.

Like most young people, I never sat down with my grandparents to get their stories. By the time I got interested in genealogy, following the death of my mother, all my grandparents were gone. I have tried to make up for that by talking with my older relatives each time I go to Cincinnati for a visit, and by participating in the Family History Writing Challenge so that I get the information placed somewhere besides my genealogy software. I have a long way to go, but at least I am taking steps to get there.

Dad and me circa 1958

I forgot to include in the last post the poem I wrote for my dad when he died, so it appears below. This is a scan of the original I placed beside his casket in the funeral home, somewhat wavy from the tears and snowstorm it was carried through. I have written poetry since early childhood, but I don't share it very often. I wrote a poem for Aunt Marie (my mother's sister) for her funeral, and another for my sister-in-law Lynn to express my feelings and hopefully console my brother, Joseph. So it seemed fitting to put my thoughts on paper for my dad. He was not always an easy man to be around, but I never doubted his love for me. It's an odd feeling when your second parent dies, as if you are now an orphan. The two people who were responsible for your very existence, and the anchor for your entire family are no longer a phone call or relatively short drive away. Pieces of my heart were buried with each one of them, but I am extremely happy that I have the photographs and memories to tuck away in those empty spaces.

Dad's Poem

Family History Writing Challenge Day 29

Note: Technically the writing challenge was for 28 days, but I haven't finished the story yet so I will be continuing. It seemed simplest to keep the same name for this blog post.

After three weeks in the hospital following his car accident, Roy was ready to be released. Numerous options were discussed for how to transport him, and where he should be taken to recuperate. In the end, Kimberly and James rented an RV in St. Louis and drove it to Hays. That way Roy would be able to lie flat on the bed to protect his broken bones. When they arrived to pick Roy up, they found his room filled with a dozen people who wanted to tell their patient good-bye and wish him well. Some homemade cookies and other treats were sent along with him as well.

Roy spent a month at the Wolterman's home, with Kimberly coming home every day at noon to make him lunch. Her boss, Dr. Richard Bradley, stopped by the house to check on Roy and made a referral for an orthopedist for follow-up X-rays. Roy's strength eventually came back, and he began to put back on some of the 40 pounds he had lost in the hospital. He was soon doing laps inside the house in an effort to get stronger, and worked up to walking 2 miles per day. In good weather Kimberly would take him to the high school track to walk for longer periods on a level surface.

He received over 100 get well and sympathy cards while he was in St. Louis. He talked a lot about the accident, and as expected blamed himself for Catherine's death. He carried a lot of guilt with him the rest of his life. His grandson Andrew was a source of joy and distraction for him. Every day when Andrew came home from preschool he would ask his grandpa how he was feeling. They spent a lot of time watching t.v. together.

When Roy was finally able to travel, Kimberly, Andrew and Chris Lane drove him back to Cincinnati, and they stayed with him for the first week. Kathleen then came to Cincinnati for the second week, and Joseph for the third week. By then, Roy felt he was well enough to be on his own.

Ultimately he returned to his volunteer activities and directing the senior chorale group. He joined a fitness center, and every Monday-Friday he and his life-long friend Max Schoener would work out for an hour. He lived a full and active life, with his children coming to town to visit when they could, particularly when he planned family reunions. The children surprised him with a party on his 80th birthday, and he was thrilled!

Roy with his children; with his grandchildren; and his great-grandchildren

During a routing eye exam in 2000, Roy's ophthalmologist noticed something in his eyes that didn't seem right. He told Roy that the whites of his eyes were somewhat yellow, and that he should go to his primary care doctor and have it checked out. Roy did, and before he knew it he was having a bone marrow biopsy done. The results were not good. Roy had multiple myeloma, a cancer formed by malignant plasma cells. Plasma cells are mostly found in the bone marrow. Virtually incurable, the prognosis is 3-5 years life expectancy. Roy, in typical form, told the doctor, "At my age if I get 3-5 more years I'll be doing good."

Side effects of the disease are low blood counts, anemia, fatigue and the inability to fight infection. It is interesting that all of these things also affected his son LeRoy once he contracted aplastic anemia. Roy was told that most likely it would not be the myeloma that would kills him but rather an infection. He was warned to keep away from crowds where the likelihood of contracting germs would be greater. Unfortunately, that meant he had to stop doing all the things he loved outside the home. His life became a series of doctors' visits, trips to receive transfusions, and short jaunts to the grocery store.

For the first year of his disease he lived on his own, and then his daughter Kathleen moved in with him for a couple of years. He spent the last 10 months alone by his choice, with hospice coming to the house in December of 2003. Kimberly had driven over to meet with the hospice coordinator, and also a real estate agent so that Roy could discuss putting his house on the market. It was decided to list the house once Roy passed.

Roy Kubler

By the end of that month he entered an in-patient hospice floor at a local hospital. That is where he remained until he died on 21 January 2004. He was 86 years old, and had lived 4 years with the multiple myeloma. The day of his funeral, January 25th, began with rain which turned to sleet and finally snow. Many friends and family were not able to attend the funeral due to the weather. Catherine's sister Margie arrived via snowplow! The snow did not, however, prevent the Air Force from honoring their commitment to provide Roy with the Military Funeral Honors to which he was entitled as a veteran. The honor guard had to drive 50 miles from Wright-Patterson Air Force Base in Dayton to Cincinnati in the dreadful weather. It was a moving ceremony, and fitting for a man who was proud of his service to his country.

And when it was all over, Roy was once again able to lie beside his beloved Catherine.

Family History Writing Challenge Day 28

Kubler's Dairy Queen

Roy continued to work for the trucking company in Des Moines for about a decade, but his constant travel and entertainment commitments took their toll on the family. Eventually he quit and tried other pursuits, including selling record-a-phones (early answering machines for businesses), Airstream Motorhomes (until his business partner took off with the model they had purchased and left Roy with the payments on it), and owning a Dairy Queen for a brief period. He then settled into selling commercial real estate for a few years, and his last position of employment was as the manager of a store selling parts and supplies for motorhomes and campers.

Oldest daughter Kathleen married Joseph Lane in 1968. They have three children: Julie, Joseph and Christopher. Julie married Ralph Maness in 1991, and they have two daughters: Molly and Cordelia. Joseph married Susan Sheets, and Christopher is unmarried.

Kenneth married Virginia Staley in 1969, and their children are Todd and Sara. Virginia died of complications from an aneurysm in 2015. Sara married Jonathan Wendt in 2006, and their children are Leo, Owen and Hazel.

Kimberly married James Wolterman in 1978. They have two children: Andrew and Kathryn. Andrew married Megan Englert in 2008.

Joseph married Lynn Graber in 1990 and their children are David, Stephanie and Rebecca. Lynn died of pancreatic cancer in 2002. Joseph remarried in 2010. David passed in 2013. Stephanie has two children: Arabella and Killian.

Kubler home in Cincinnati

Roy retired in 1984, and he and Catherine sold their house in Des Moines and moved back to their hometown of Cincinnati. They immediately began reconnecting with relatives and friends, and became extremely active in the local senior citizens center. They both enjoyed the card games and dances, Catherine loved the crafts room, and Roy became the director of the chorale group, which Catherine also participated in.

In the summer of 1989, they traveled out to Colorado to visit their son, Joseph. They stopped in St. Louis and stayed a couple of days with Kimberly and James, and also got to see Kathleen and her family as they lived in the area as well. They spent a couple of weeks enjoying the scenery in Colorado and were on their way home on July 18th. In the middle of Kansas on Interstate 70, Roy fell asleep at the wheel of the car. They had stopped for a potty break in the afternoon, and neither one of them put their seat belt back on when they reentered the car. Driving off onto the shoulder of the road, Roy awoke and over-corrected his steering. The car went off the road, flipping a couple of times. Catherine was killed instantly, and Roy was severely injured. The car behind them happened to contain a couple of off-duty paramedics, who immediately stopped to offer assistance and dialed 9-1-1. Roy was able to give them Joseph's phone number from memory, and he is the one who received the first call about the accident.

Roy was taken by ambulance to the hospital in Hays, Kansas. He suffered from a broken collar bone, all the ribs on one side were fractured, and he had internal bleeding. Joseph, in the meantime, faced the unpleasant task of notifying his siblings. He left a message on the answering machine at Kenneth's house and called Kathleen at work. She told him that she would call Kimberly at home that night after she knew her sister was done with work and had picked up her son Andrew at his baby-sitter's home. Kathleen was so distraught that someone drove her home from the office.

Joseph then had a friend drive with him from Colorado Springs to Hays, and Kathleen and Kimberly drove there together from St. Louis the next morning. Once they assessed their dad's situation and realized he would be in the hospital for quite a while, it was determined that Kathleen would fly to Cincinnati to begin making funeral arrangements for Catherine. In the meantime Kathleen's husband Joe would drive to Kansas and stay with Roy while everyone else made their way to Cincinnati for the funeral.

Catherine's obituary

Catherine's body was shipped by train to Cincinnati. It was very difficult for the children to plan their mother's funeral, especially knowing that their dad would not be able to attend it. They also did not know all of his wishes for the funeral, though he and Catherine had purchased a burial plan so that helped with some of the decision-making. The funeral was well attended by family and friends as Catherine was well-loved in the community. Men from the senior chorale group, dressed in their performance best, escorted the casket into the church while singing, "When Irish Eyes are Smiling." There was not a dry eye in St. Dominic's Church.

One thing that Roy made clear from his hospital bed was that he did not want anything personal of Catherine's to be in the house when he returned home to Cincinnati. He told Kathleen and Kimberly to pack everything up and have a yard sale in St. Louis. It was a very difficult thing to ask of two grieving daughters, but they reluctantly complied with his wishes, bringing Catherine's personal belongings back home with them after the funeral.

The beloved matriarch was dead at the age of 69. The foundation of the family shifted, and the children were numb.

Family History Writing Challenge Day 26

Catherine with her arm around LeRoy,
her nephew Danny Wambaugh
and Kathleen in the chair

While Roy was away serving his country, Catherine did the best she could at their home in Cincinnati. Unable to work due to the presence of two small children, she survived on the small allowance Roy was able to send her from his military pay. Perhaps she had some assistance from her family next door as well. She kept her spirits up by writing to Roy and letting him know how she and the children were doing. She eagerly awaited his replies, and kept those letters until the day she died.

Cincinnati, like all of America, had done its part to aid in the war effort, buying war bonds, accepting rationing, and creating jobs to help build or make the supplies needed for the soldiers. So it was no surprise that when President Harry S. Truman announced the end of the war on 14 August 1945, a crowd of 15,000 gathered at Fountain Square downtown, blowing horns, singing and shouting under a shower of paper graffiti tossed from office windows above. Thousands attended services at churches and synagogues.

But under all the relief and gaiety was a nagging concern about the economy. Many of the jobs created during the war were as a result of government contracts, which were cancelled when the war ended. Industrial employment in Hamilton County had nearly doubled during the war years, including women who entered the job force as well as men who had relocated to the area because of defense-related job opportunities. What would happen to all these employees? Would the returning 12,000-15,000 local veterans be able to find employment?

Many of the manufacturing plants went back to their original pre-war product lines once their government contracts ended. Returning servicemen were offered their old jobs, and many women were displaced from the job force. A new automobile plant built by General Motors in Hamilton County following the end of the war also offered employment opportunities to veterans and other men in the community.

Roy was lucky to be able to return to his job at the Railway Express Agency, a company that had boomed during WWII. He was happy to go back to a more normal life with work, his family and worshiping at Resurrection of Our Lord Catholic Church in Price Hill. The original church was built in  1919, and a school was added in 1920. By 1952, the growth in attendance by parishioners necessitated that a new church be constructed. The new building was completed in 1954.

Shortly after Roy's return from the war, the family was dealt an incredible blow. LeRoy was diagnosed at the age of 3 with aplastic anemia, a rare, serious blood disorder caused by failure of the bone marrow to produce blood cells. Symptoms of the disease are anemia, bleeding and infection. Some cases have been linked to exposure to toxic environmental chemicals such as benzene, a colorless and highly flammable liquid. It is used as a starter material for other products, including rubber. Because Catherine worked in a factory sewing rubber basketballs before and during her pregnancy with LeRoy, it begs the question - did exposure to benzene cause him to be born prematurely, and then later contract aplastic anemia? While there were studies done to examine the impact of benzene in the workplace, there were none conducted at that time to examine the impact on a fetus. Maybe it's just as well, as Catherine would have been devastated to find that something she had done caused her little boy to be sick. She was most likely pregnant with her third child, Kenneth, when they found out about LeRoy's illness.

There was no cure for aplastic anemia in the 1940s. Patients were being injected with horse serum - antithymic globulin. Side affects included fatigue and serum sickness, with fever and edema. The cost of the injections was exorbitant, and the family could not afford the treatment. The drug manufacturer agreed to cover the expense if the Kubler's would allow LeRoy to participate in a study. Roy and Catherine willingly agreed, eager to do anything to save their boy.

Ken in arms of Catherine's
brother Charlie, LeRoy and
Kathleen circa 1949

LeRoy was able to go to school off and on when he felt up to it, but he hated the fact that the nuns at Resurrection School always made him sit by the radiator in the classroom. He was extremely susceptible to infection with the disease. In his 7th year he developed pneumonia. On the morning of 31 January 1950, Roy went into his son's bedroom to check on him before going to work. LeRoy asked for a drink of water, and by the time Roy came back with the glass, LeRoy had died.

Because of the rareness of his disease, the Cincinnati Enquirer wrote a story about his death. From that story, many people wrote letters to Roy and Catherine. Most of them were expressing condolences, but some were filled with hate, claiming that they must be really bad people of God had chosen to take their first-born son away from them. There were some letters that Roy never let Catherine see because they were so terrible. As if the loss of their son wasn't enough, the couple had to deal with the judgmental words of others. Kathleen was barely 6 and Kenneth 4 when their brother died. It must have been horrific for the family to endure.

newspaper article
about LeRoy's death

Family History Writing Challenge Day 19

The 1880 United States Federal Census in St. Louis was taken after John Murdoch died. It lists 45-year-old Julia as the head of household, 21-year-old John Junior as a clerk in a dry goods store, 19-year-old Mary and 17-year-old Emma with no occupations, 15-year-old George as a clerk in a factory, 12-year-old William and 10-year-old Joseph as cash boys, a 28-year-old boarder named Edward Mosby as a clerk in a candy factory, and a 19-year-old servant named Jennie Breckenridge.

Julia Murdoch was getting by on the income of her children as well as taking in a boarder. Even the youngest boys were working in a store. The position of cash boy entailed carrying the money received by salesmen from customers to a cashier and bringing back the proper change. He might also wrap and deliver parcels, and perform other chores to keep the merchandise and the store clean.

In the 1882 Gould's St. Louis Directory, Julia, George and John Junior are living together at 1542 Chouteau. George is employed as a clerk at Taylor Manufacturing, and John as a clerk at Taggerty & Sons Auction Goods. William and Joseph, at the ages of 14 and 12, respectively, would have been living at the same address. It is possible that Mary lived there as well, but she is not listed in the Directory so she either was not employed, had moved away, or had died. Emma married Harry S. Collins in 1882. Harry was a 21-year-old printer who lived at 1540 Chouteau - right next door to the Murdochs. It appears that Emma was the only one of the Murdoch children to marry.

The family had reason to celebrate and grieve in 1884. On March 9th, Harry and Emma Collins gave birth to their first and only child, Roy Murdoch Collins. Then, on a sad note, John Junior died on November 3rd of capillary bronchitis. He was 26 years old. Burial took place in the same plot as his father at Calvary Cemetery. At the time of his death the family was living at 1318 LaSalle.

In 1885-1887, the Murdoch family was still residing in the same house. George, William and Joseph lived with Julia. But on January 10, 1887 Julia Murdoch died. Her obituary appeared on January 12th in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. It read as follows:

                                                                                  Julia Murdoch
On Monday, Jan 10, 1887 at 10:50 p.m. Mrs. Julia A. Murdoch wid of the late John J. Murdoch and sister of Wm. L. Hull in the 52nd year of her age. The funeral will take place on Thurs the 13th at 10:30 a.m. from the residence, 1318 LaSalle St. to the Church of the Holy Angels, thence to Calvary Cemetery.

Holy Guardian Angels Church was located at 14th and LaSalle. The cornerstone was laid in 1866, and a school was established in 1897. The brick Gothic structure seated 450 people. The church was less than a block from where Julia and her boys were living. She was buried next to her husband.

Holy Guardian Angels Catholic Church

In the end, the Murdoch family was not destined to live long, healthy lives. As mentioned above, John Junior was 26 when he died. As for his siblings, George died at the age of 25 in 1891, William was 26 when he passed in 1893, and Joseph died in 1925 at the age of 55. All of the boys were buried by their parents in Lot 24 at Calvary Cemetery. Little is known about Mary. The last record of her was when she appeared in the 1880 census. Emma was the exception as she lived to be 71, with her death occurring in 1934. But her son Roy, the only grandchild of John and Julia Murdoch, died in 1909. He was 25 years old.

After 1934, the only thing that remained to show the Murdochs had lived in St. Louis was a street called Murdoch.

Family History Writing Challenge Day 18

John Murdoch died on Wednesday, June 17, 1880, leaving behind his wife Julia and six children ranging in age from ten to twenty-one. Because his illness lasted for thirteen weeks, perhaps his death was not too surprising for his family and friends. Murdoch's funeral took place on June 20th. An extensive write-up about the proceedings appeared in the Globe-Democrat on June 21st.

                                                               DUST TO DUST.
                                                                                    ---------
                                   The Remains of John J. Murdoch Returned to Mother Earth.
    The remains of John J. Murdoch, who died on last Wednesday in the 66th year of his age, an old and much esteemed citizen of St. Louis, were consigned to the grave yesterday in Calvary Cemetery. The funeral took place from St. John's Church, corner of Sixteenth and Chestnut streets at 2 p.m., and was attended by a large number of the friends of the deceased. In the absence of Bishop Ryan, whom duty had called elsewhere, Rev. Father Michael McFaul recited the funeral services. At the conclusion he made a short address, saying that the deceased was well known to most persons present. They had read in the gospel of a certain merchant who had gone out to purchase pearls, and when he had found that which he desired, he bought it in exchange for all he possessed. This pearl was the Kingdom of God for which they had all been created, made better than mere animals, and with the higher object in view of possessing an inheritance in that kingdom. All things in this world had been created in order to assist man in working out his salvation. Their dear friend, whose body reposed in their presence, had purchased this pearl, the Kingdom of God. He served God faithfully, that God who was pleased to call him to His true worship many years ago, when as a convert he embraced the Catholic faith, and he showed his appreciation of God's goodness to him, for he made it his daily practice for years to go long distances in order to be present and participate in the offering of the holy sacrifice at the altar, in the old Cathedral on Walnut street. Although business cares of the world absorbed his attention to a great extent, yet he did not forget his duty to God and he won the pearl, and was then, it is to be hoped, enjoying his reward in heaven. They should profit by his example by imitating it; and they should pray for him, in accordance with the principle of the Catholic faith that it is a holy and a wholesome thought to pray for the dead; they should pray for him lest he might be temporarily debarred from entering heaven until he shall have satisfied the divine justice; pray for him in pity, as the psalmist says, "Have pity on me, have pity on me, at least you, my friends, for the hand of the Lord has touched me." Mr. Murdoch was besides a charitable man. They should take example of him - the example of the good man breathed an aroma of blessedness - and they might hope to be like him among the elect of God in the house of eternity.
    The choir, which chanted the Gregorian requiem Libra as the coffin was taken into the church, again resumed the chant as it was borne out and placed in the hearse.
    The pall-bearers were J.S. Walsh, Thomas Richeson, Geo. W. Lewis, Geo. R. Robinson, H. W. Leffingwell, Judge Charles Speck, Falk Levy and W. H. Haggerty.
    Among the numerous persons who called at the late residence of the deceased, and afterward attended the services at the church, were W. A. Hargadine, John S. Cavender, John J. McCann, W. F. Crow, Peter A. O'Neil, A. B. Ewing, Willis J. Powell, Benj. E. Walker, W. O. Buchanan, H. Van Studdiford, T. S. Rutherford, W. H. Cozens, J. Baumgardner, T. T. Gantt, Francis Chenot and Charles Chenot.
    Rev. Father Tobyn, pastor of the old Cathedral on Walnut street, a personal friend of the departed, was present in the sanctuary of the church, wearing his surplice as a mark of respect.
    The funeral arrangements were under the management of Mr. Louis Bohle, undertaker, and were efficiently carried out.

The men listed above were attorneys, dry goods merchants and manufacturers, real estate brokers, railroad executives, auctioneers, men involved in mining in St. Louis and Colorado, and several who were instrumental in the founding of the Mercantile Library in St. Louis. Both Murdoch and Dickson played a part in the 1846 founding of the first library west of the Mississippi River. The mourners represented a cross-section of the multitude of interests Murdoch was involved in during his lifetime.

John Murdoch was buried at Calvary Cemetery, the second oldest cemetery of the Archdiocese of St. Louis. Established in 1854, it is the final resting place of many of the founding settlers of St. Louis.
Dred Scott, William Tecumseh Sherman, and Tennessee Williams are all buried in Calvary. The grave for Murdoch is in Lot 24 at the cemetery - a lot which contains 20 graves. The lot was owned by Charles K. Dickson, who is also buried there along with members of his family. While there is a large marker and individual headstones for the Dickson graves, there is nothing marking the grave of Murdoch or his six family members who are buried beside him. There would have been no extra money for Julia to erect a monument to honor her husband. It was probably through the benevolence of the Dickson family that she even had a place to bury him. Julia was going to have to find a way to survive the loss of her husband and his income. How would she keep a roof over the heads of her six children?

Dickson monument

Family History Writing Challenge Day 10

Dickson headstone

While selling off parts of his farm would have been difficult, John Murdoch must have been devastated by the news he received on January 26, 1871. His business partner of several decades, Charles K. Dickson, died at the age of 54. He left behind his wife Mary, age 49, and six children ranging in age from 10 to 21. At the time of his death, his mother-in-law Margaret Thomas, and four servants were also living with the family. The 1870 census indicated that the value of Dickson's real estate was $280,000 and his personal estate was $250,000. Mary Dickson is shown with a real estate value of $65,000.

Dickson was very well-known in St. Louis not only for his association with the firm of Murdoch & Dickson, but also because his enterprises extended in many directions, sometimes with John Murdoch and sometimes without. He was a leading stockholder, director and officer of the Western River Improvement and Wrecking Company, contributed to the success of nearly all the railroad companies, was part of the syndicate that purchased the State Bank of Missouri and converted it into the National Bank of the State of Missouri and was Vice President of the bank until his death.

Construction of Eads Bridge

He was President of the Illinois and St. Louis Bridge Company, formed by James Eads to construct a combined road and railway bridge over the Mississippi River. Dickson invested heavily in this company in addition to being one of the largest stockholders of the bridge. The cornerstone of the bridge was laid on February 25, 1868. At the time it was the longest arch bridge ever built. It was also unique in that it was the first structure of any kind to make extensive use of steel. Dickson did not live to attend the opening ceremony on July 4, 1874 but James Eads invited his daughter Josephine Dickson Walsh to lead the 15-mile long parade, observe the speeches, and attend the fireworks display.

At the time of his death, Dickson was also a director in the Third National Bank; the North Missouri Railroad; the Brunswick, Chillicothe and Council Bluffs Railroad; the Tower Grove Railway Company; and the People's Railway Company. He was also President of the Granby Lead Mining Company.

His death notice took up three columns in the newspaper, and concluded by stating:

Mr. Dickson was not only a man of rare abilities, but he was also a thoroughly honest man, and with all so modest and retiring, that we doubt not that many who knew him well will learn with surprise that his magic hand supported and vitalized many of the public works we have above enumerated. The death of such a man is a great public calamity.

Many St. Louisans would feel the loss of Charles Dickson.

My Family Tree

Today's writing prompt from BlogHer asks if I am interested in genealogy (YES!) and if I have a family tree constructed (YES!). As I mentioned in yesterday's post, I first got involved in genealogy back in 1989. My mom and dad had stopped by our house on their drive from Cincinnati to Boulder to see my brother. My mom handed me a hand-written family tree on her side of the family, put together by one of my cousins. We talked briefly about the tree, and I set it to the side. On their way back from Colorado my folks were involved in a horrific car accident in the middle of Kansas. My mom was killed instantly and my dad was taken to a hospital in Hays, Kansas in critical condition. My mom was only 69 years old at the time. I was 32, and thought I would have much more time with my beloved mother.

Months later I pulled out the family tree and I recognized for perhaps the first time that my older family members would not be around forever. So I began asking questions about my grandparents and their siblings, finally enjoying the stories being told instead of rolling my eyes as I had done when I was younger. As my tree began to grow, so did the pile of notes and papers I was collecting. I needed a better way to organize my research.

At the time I had a Macintosh computer, and the only family tree software available for a Mac was Personal Ancestral File (PAF). This was a program developed by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints that was first released for the Macintosh in 1987. It wasn't a very intuitive program, and since there were not too many people using Macs at that time I did not have other people I could talk to about using the program. But I muddled through and was able to get my family information from numerous pieces of paper into a database. The most blessed part of genealogy programs is that you can export your information in what is called a GEDCOM format, which simply stated means that you can take it from one type of software and import it into another. Even if that means going from a Mac to a PC, which is what I eventually did.

The limitations of PAF forced me into looking at other genealogy software programs in the late 1990s. By then I was predominantly using a PC and most genealogists I knew were using PC-based software programs. After looking at my options I went with Family Tree Maker as it seemed to have many features that I would utilize. And the current version of the software neatly integrates with online tree I have been adding to through my subscription to Ancestry.com. Any changes I make on either my desktop tree or my online tree will synchronize at the push of a button. This was a huge selling point in getting me to upgrade my Family Tree software in 2012. Before if I made a change in one location I always had to remember to go and make the change in the other. I currently have over 2,400 people in my tree (which does include my husband's family as well, I should point out), so keeping track of all the names on paper alone would be a nightmare.

Becoming interested in genealogy began through a tragic event in my family. But it has ended in a love and appreciation of family history, and an enjoyable hobby to boot.

Why

1992-2013

I ask the question
Why
Why did he have to die?
So young
So much ahead
So little behind
No answers
Just sadness
My heart shatters