I just posted links to all my clippings here. Most of them are at newspapers.com, so if you click the link in the heading you will go to a better image that you can enlarge. The small ones can be printed; the larger ones are a pain no matter what I’ve tried. A few of them are just scans of clippings or photocopies people have given me (no links), and I have no information on dates or publications.
After years of collecting information, months of writing, and minutes of uploading, I now present histories of all the branches of my family tree. Unlike the data files I uploaded to FamilySearch in 2015, these are written histories in PDF format. I have tried to show our ancestors as living people using documents, records, family stories, memories, photos, excerpts from letters, newspaper stories, maps, and more.
From Jacob and Hannah Spencer in Wotton-under-Edge, Gloucestershire, to Ralph and Gertrude Spencer in Oakland, Oregon. Includes James and Esther White, John and Elizabeth Lewis, and Samuel and Eleanor Watts.
From the Seehawers in West Prussia in the 1800s to Rudolph and Mary Seehawer in Wisconsin. Includes John and Bridget Gormley and Charles and Alice Boesen. Shows the effect of the two world wars on the Seehawers remaining in Germany and has a section on “the Truth” (religion).
From upstate New York right after the Revolutionary War to Chicago and northern Wisconsin in the twentieth century. Brief section on the Delanos.
Begins with Peter Spawr and Elizabeth Messer’s arrivals in McLean County, Illinois, in 1827. Includes James and Catherine Neighbarger and John Griffith.
Norwegian ancestors back to the Næs/Næss/Nes farm.
I started working on this in 1965, when I was 12, by quizzing my parents and writing to other relatives. I knew instinctively that I needed to get as much information as I could while they were still living and that the records would still be there when I had the time and money to travel around looking at them. Following that principle, I did travel to visit elderly aunts and to attend reunions. Of course the Internet changed everything about 1998, and I have been able fill in much more of the history through sites such as FamilySearch and contacts with cousins I never knew I had.
Although I’ve spent countless hours researching online, I’ve spent even more identifying the people in the unlabeled photographs I’ve been blessed to receive. It is my pleasure to share them with you in these histories; perhaps they will help you identify some of your own old photos (and perhaps you will be inspired to share scans of them with me).
I am sharing these histories because I am starting to feel mortal and my husband and I do not expect to have grandchildren. I’ve seen so many people suddenly become interested in their genealogy after their elders have died. In fact, I hope you will enjoy some of the family stories you might have forgotten or never heard. These links won’t be here forever because at some point I’ll stop paying the domain fees, so please consider downloading the file or files for your branch(es) to share with your siblings, children, etc.
A few notes—
- I’ve placed a Creative Commons license on the histories. It means that you’re welcome to copy them at no charge for any noncommercial use but please give me credit.
- I’m not a fan of “creative nonfiction,” which is written by authors who think they need to make up things to keep history interesting. My intent with this work has been to present only facts, whether or not you find them as interesting as I do. You won’t have to wonder whether our ancestors really experienced something I’ve written about.
- I’m proud of my research and have a source for everything I’ve included. However, it could still be wrong and naturally is incomplete. I welcome additional information.
- Likewise, I don’t claim to be a designer, and Microsoft Word has to be the worst software in the world for doing this.
- Most of the pictures are in poor condition after a century or more of being played with by children, stored in cardboard boxes under beds, and who knows what else. The only editing I’ve done has been cropping and, in a few cases, lightening.
I drove past my German great-grandfather Rudolph Seehawer’s home yesterday. Well, technically I was in a Google Maps car that drove past it in July 2012 and digitally recorded the view so it could go online for me to enjoy. Here it is:
It took me some time to find it. Long story short, I had a couple of poor quality photos from cousins so I knew what I was looking for. The problem was finding the town. It was called Neuhof, or New Farm, when it was in Germany. Now it’s in Poland and called Nowy Dwór—and there are many towns in Poland with this name, many that don’t show up on Google Maps searches.
But I finally located the town and found myself moving (clicking) up the road and seeing the house as I approached!
Here’s one I found in England–the graveyard where my great-great-great-grandparents Jacob and Hannah Spencer are buried in Wotton-under-Edge, Gloucestershire:
Too bad I can’t get out of the car to read the headstones. Zooming in doesn’t help (believe me, I tried!).
Here’s the house in Reading, Berkshire, where my great-great-grandmother Mary Ann White Spencer worked as a servant until she married Joseph Spencer (now a restaurant and bar):
And here is the farm where my great-great-great-grandparents John and Elizabeth Lewis worked and raised their family in Bisley, Gloucestershire:
By the way, I have seen some beautiful scenery in my “travels” along roads in Europe.
Google Maps work in the USA, too. I don’t know when I’ll ever be able to visit Chicago, but I found the house my great-grandfather Joseph Spencer bought or had built in Chicago in the early 1900s:
I tried to find my great-great-aunt Lizzie Barrows’ boardinghouses on Wentworth in Chicago (where my grandparents lived at times), but unfortunately they’re not there any more.
I’m not finished and probably never will be. I don’t have exact addresses for most of my ancestors, but I still plan to virtually explore Norway (where my grandmother lived) and the area of the Czech Republic that used to be Austria (where my grandfather-in-law lived). I’m sure I’ll think of more!
All photos in this post courtesy Google Maps.
After 50 or so years of working on my family history (and 40 or so of working on my husband’s), I’m finally ready to share my research with the world. Really share it–not just put some of it on my website. Every individual, every source, every note. I’m motivated by the knowledge that I won’t live forever and our unmarried, childless sons are not even slightly interested in my work. Ironic that the family history nut would have only these two descendants, huh?
To access my “pedigree resource files” (one for each major branch), go to FamilySearch Genealogies and search for any ancestor or (deceased) relative you have in common with me. When you click on a name and go to that person’s page, you will see a description of the file and the name of the submitter at the top so you will know whether it’s my file (look for “Laurelroots”). You will be able to click on links to move around among the generations. In general, I’ve included ancestors through our ggg-grandparents. Living persons are hidden.
It was important to me to make the information available permanently and freely. None of my websites or social media accounts will be permanent. Ancestry.com and other sites like it require you to pay for a subscription to view donated files. I don’t think anyone even knows Rootsweb exists any more. That left FamilySearch.
FamilySearch is free to everyone, and you don’t even have to register to search and see most of its records. And if the LDS files aren’t permanent, none are (with their granite vault and all).
The downside of FamilySearch is it is so—to put it kindly—clunky. I will just say that it has taken me weeks to be able to search for and find individuals in the files I’ve uploaded. That seems to be fixed now.
I had hoped to provide links to the files I’ve uploaded so family members can go straight to them. That’s impossible. Maybe it’s for the best since I can’t update the files; when I get new information I can only delete and replace them.
Another problem is FamilySearch is so zealous about protecting the privacy of living persons (not a bad thing) that it completely removes them and they cannot serve as links between the deceased person and his or her ancestors. In other words, if you find a deceased person whose parent is still living, you will be at a dead end.
Why don’t I just use FamilySearch’s Family Tree? I tried. I just don’t have the patience and tolerance necessary to deal with it. I did spend many hours laboriously adding information there. Then Family Tree dangled “possible duplicate” links in front of stupid users, and they erroneously merged individuals I’d worked on into their individuals (some of whom were totally different people and many of whom had incomplete or incorrect information). When you merge someone with photos attached into someone else, the person with the photos attached is deleted and the photos are orphaned (to be found only in a search of Memories). It’s too stressful for me.
Now that I can finally cross this off my list (huge sigh), I am moving on to writing out all the memories I’ve collected from relatives over the years. I’m excited about this project because these memories become even more precious and rare after it’s too late to talk to our family members about them.
My hope is to publish the memories in an electronic book at Google. It should be both permanent and free there.
And there are the photos. I’ve been blessed with many old family photos. I’ve tried to share them freely over the years, but I’m now facing the same problem I did with the genealogy files. Besides being free and permanent, the site I use must allow lots of large files. I’m still looking for that.
For now, my best photos are attached to individuals in FamilySearch‘s Family Tree. To see those, you have to register with FamilySearch (it’s free) and search for the individuals under Memories.
I just hope it won’t take me 50 years to cross these off my list.
“Americans think immigrants used to pull themselves up by their bootstraps. That’s wrong” was posted on Vox.com yesterday. The article says, “Not only did less-educated immigrants from less-developed countries work in low-paying occupations when they got to the US, but their children also were likely to work in jobs that paid less than the average for natives.”
Considering my own ancestry, that’s probably true. However, it’s hard to pinpoint. For one thing, it’s not clear how countries are designated as more or less developed. Until now, I considered all European countries well developed, but this article designates Norway as less developed. For another, how do you compare a man’s occupation in the early 1900s with his daughter’s?
But let’s look at my ancestors who immigrated from the mid 1850s to early 1900s:
- John and Bridget (Sheridan) Gormley, a farmer and a servant from Ireland, arrived near the end of the potato famine in the mid 1800s. He made shoes in Massachusetts, worked on the railroad in Wisconsin and homesteaded in Nebraska. All of that had to be better than the potato famine.
- Joseph T. and Sarah (Lewis) Spencer, journeyman house painter and his wife from England, arrived in Chicago in 1882. He retired to Athelstane, Wis., where he intended to farm a few acres. At the end of their lives, the county took their modest home and acreage to pay for their care.
- Rudolph Seehawer, son of a prosperous German farmer, arrived in 1892. He married one of the Gormleys’ granddaughters in Athelstane, but he worked in Chicago to support his family.
- Elise (Næss) Barrows, who had never had to work because her father had a good white collar job, arrived from Norway in 1904. She worked as a maid in Chicago until she married my grandfather, a teamster from an old American family. They tried to farm cut-over timberland in northern Wisconsin (and failed), but they spent more time living with relatives in Chicago.
Fast forward to the present. I don’t know all of my distant cousins, but the ones I do know, or know of, range from poor to blue collar to white collar to small business owners. Many of us have college degrees, but I don’t think anyone is a millionaire and no one is famous.
Most of us work hard, so what keeps descendants of poor immigrants from moving all the way up the ladder? Is it genetics? I know it’s not intelligence or talent. Having read Malcolm Gladwell’s Outliers, I suspect it’s a combination of low expectations and lack of contacts among people in a position to pull us up. It’s true: It’s not what you know, it’s whom you know.
Here’s another truth: the best things in life are free. My grandmother’s smiling in the photo above. Sure, she didn’t get rich in America, but she had her flowers and the family she loved. I’m like her, and what’s wrong with that?
Have you ever wondered about the relatives left behind when people decided to try their chances in America? Olea was one of them.
In 1904, when her daughter Elise—my grandmother—was about 18, Elise decided to come to the USA. Elise’s daughters have told me she wanted to come just because “it was the thing to do.” She had an uncle living in Chicago and joined him there. She married my grandfather in 1908.
Olea missed her for the rest of her life.
The first stories I heard about Olea made me sympathize with my grandmother’s decision to leave. Olea was strict when Elise was growing up. When my grandmother took her first child, Florence, back to Norway to visit her parents in 1912, Olea tried to talk her into divorcing my American grandfather and staying in Norway. (If Elise had agreed to do that, I would not be here now.)
Olea was always begging her daughter to write, but for whatever reason or reasons, my grandmother rarely complied. My Aunt Florence tried to fill the gap.
But, as there always is, there was more to this woman.
Olea loved Elise unconditionally. She was always sending much-needed money and gifts to my grandmother’s family. My grandparents were never prosperous; my grandfather worked as a teamster when they weren’t trying to scratch out a living on a stump farm (former forest land) in northern Wisconsin in the 1920s. The family was the reverse of the stereotype of impoverished immigrants doing well in America and sending money back to the old country.
My grandmother’s brother, still in Norway, died in 1910, leaving Olea and her husband Edvard with an empty nest for the next 30 years. Looking at it from that point of view, I began to sympathize with Olea.
My great-grandfather died during the German occupation of Norway during World War II, which lasted from April 9, 1940, until May 8, 1945. One of Olea’s last letters (if not the last) to my Aunt Florence, dated August 10, 1945, was filled with pain.
By then Florence was married and the mother of two boys herself. Some excerpts (translated into English for Olea by a student in Norway):
“I congratulate you as a mamma once again. You now have got another soldier to fight for America. But I heartily wish that he will not live so long as to see another war. We have had quite enough of war now.
“According to your cards your family has taken great part in the war. But I hope they shall all return healthy and unhurt to their homes. (Today we got good news: Japan will give in!) And peace is not far away! [NOTE: She doesn’t mention the atomic bomb detonated over Hiroshima August 6.]
“You understand that I am still alive, though things might have been better. I think you know that Edvard died in December 1943….An organic disease of the heart makes me much trouble all the time.
“I have no economical troubles. The loneliness is worse than all. I wish that one of you could come to me here in Norway, and stand here until I am gone. Please, try to do that!
“Florence, dear! Ask Elise whether she can’t write to me, and tell me how she is doing….
“The war has been a hard and sharing time. Especially for old people was it very difficult and troublesome to endure the psysical [sic] pressure. Food was often, and still is, scarce and bad. However, the restrictions and bondage was the worst of all. And the Germans did not care about old people, because they could not work for them and help them to win (or to lose) the war. Therefore we were put upon smaller rations than young people.”
Olea died October 10, 1945—two months after dictating this letter to a student, twelve days short of her 83rd birthday and seven years before I was born.
I would have written to her.
I loved Laura Ingalls Wilder books when I was a kid, long before the series was on TV. I read all the ones about Laura’s childhood but couldn’t get interested in the later ones (and haven’t tried to read them as an adult).
When I learned enough about the Delano ancestors in my family tree, I was delighted to learn I was distantly related to a few famous persons: Franklin Delano Roosevelt, Ulysses S Grant and Laura Ingalls Wilder (through her father). Laura is my third cousin three times removed.
My mother didn’t have any idea she and I were related to Laura, so of course she couldn’t have told me. However, I don’t remember her ever telling me she grew up in a “little house in the big woods” of Wisconsin herself and her grandmother lived in a “little house on the prairie” in Kansas. I would have enjoyed the books even more if she had.
My grandmother, Elise (Næss) Barrows is the woman seated on the right; my great-grandmother, Clara “Hurleybelle” (Spawr) Barrows is standing on the right. My grandfather, Roy Barrows, is the man second from the right.
I wonder if they got some of their costume and decorating ideas from this book?
I’ve been thinking about my Aunt Flippy the past few days. She was the only surviving relative in my mother’s generation when she died at age 96 last week.
We in genealogy often hear exhortations (or exhort others) to talk to our older relatives about family history before it’s too late because all of their memories die with them. But this post is not about regret—it’s about gratitude.
Aunt Flippy, my mom’s sister, was in her early 30s when I was born. She was single and living in Chicago with their mother; we were living in a small town in Oregon. She and my mom had been able to stay close in spite of the distance and in spite of the limitations of letters, long distance telephone calls and cross country travel. My siblings and I made drawings for Mom to send to her. She made clown pajama bags for us (I still have mine).
When I was about 12, I became interested in my ancestors. I realized my grandmother had come from Norway—a foreign country!—and that seemed really exotic. I was one quarter Norwegian—what else was I? So began an obsession I’ve had all my life. (I believe that genealogy is at its roots a quest to learn about oneself.)
My mom told me all she could and was sure Aunt Flippy knew more, so I wrote to her. She sent me back lots of names and dates and a rough family tree. Over the years my tree has grown so large her contribution seems insignificant. However, her information was my starting point and I couldn’t have done anything without building on that.
Life intervened over the years, but we stayed in touch–even though we lived across the country from each other, even after I got married and had kids, even after my mom died, even after Aunt Flippy had to move into a nursing home in 2003. I continued to ask her questions about family history every time I talked to her—and I wrote down what she told me.
Aunt Flippy never married or had kids of her own, and over time she began to give me some of the family photos and mementos she had ended up with. I will always be grateful to her for that; I’ve had many relatives die leaving such things to those who have no idea what they mean and no interest in them. I have tried to share all of her items digitally with any of her nieces and nephews who are interested. (Sadly, few of them are.)
The last time I called her at the nursing home, a nurse informed me as sensitively as she could that Aunt Flippy’s mind wasn’t there any more. I talked to her for a while anyway, never sure how much of what I said was getting through. I had hoped she would be able to identify some of the people in some old photos I’d obtained recently, but I knew then that she would not be able to help me any more.
There will always be new questions to ask and no one to ask now. I do feel bad about that. However, I have no regrets about Aunt Flippy. I asked her all the questions I had while she was still alive, and I preserved what she told me. She seemed to appreciate my interest in the family, and I made sure I expressed my appreciation for all she did to help me with my research.
When one of my cousins was going through Aunt Flippy’s papers after she died last week, she found some old letters she had saved. One of them was a letter I wrote to her in 1960. I guess she liked me, too.
I’m still waiting for my nieces and nephews (not to mention our sons!) to start quizzing me about family history. Since I haven’t seen much interest yet, I’m doing what I can to digitize all my information and upload it to FamilySearch for later generations. That includes all the notes I’ve made during and after talking to Aunt Flippy, my parents, and many of my other aunts and uncles over the years, most of whom are gone now. No regrets. Just love and gratitude.