As we approach Halloween, I'm thinking about the weird and unexplained that happens in the world of genealogy. I've had several strange situations occur which I'll be sharing over the next few posts.
Since I know I'm not alone I wanted to share with you some coincidences I've discovered in the past few weeks written by other genealogists.
The first was from Crestleaf.com - if you don't subscribe to their free email newsletter you really need to as it's filled with useful posts. In their September recap there's a link to their interesting finds for the month and one written by Vicki Noels-Cornish, The Ginger Genie, who shares a serendipitous find. Click on Crestleaf to read about it.
Don't know if you saw the History Channel show last year about the violin that was discovered to belong to one of those who perished on the Titanic. I'm not a big Titanic fan but I loved how the show followed the trail to discover that the violin was in fact one used on the ship. I was astounded to read the rest of the story - recently posted by the Daily Mail in the UK. This you've got to read if you're not aware of the update. Warning - there's a spoiler in the headline so scroll down before you begin reading! View it here.
My Mother was quite superstitious and one of her favorite saying was "It always comes in 3's." So here's the 3rd coincidental story - I've discovered recently that Genealogy Today has short stories submitted by users about Serendipity. I really enjoyed "Marriage Arranged By Ancestors" as my husband and I met accidentally through friends. Over the years we've discovered that we are "cousins" several times, the most recent in the 1500's. Before researching my ancestors I would have said I was Croatian and German and he would have said he was Swedish. Little did we know we are also Irish, English, Welsh, Scottish, and French. Enjoy!
Thursday, October 22, 2015
Sunday, October 18, 2015
Your Tree Posthumously
Being that it's Geneanet's A Cemetery for Posterity Weekend, I've been thinking about ways to have me tree live on after I do. Geneanet had an interesting blog on the 5 October 1915 by Jean-Yves regarding your genealogical tree after you've died. I don't have a tree on Geneanet but I may want to investigate doing so. You can read the blog here: What Happens To Your Data...
And then there was this interesting post in Myrt's blog about ancestry's disappearing records. It happened to me trying to retrieve my husband's 3 times great grandfather's obit info. I recently blogged about John and Mary "Mollie" O'Brien Cooke (A New Genealogy Society - What Fun! 11 October 2015). When I was checking my saved sources on ancestry.com for the couple I couldn't retrieve the info for John's obit. On the bottom right hand corner on the old ancestry version I could see the link under Source Info but when I clicked nothing appeared. I tried to do a search through the card catalog for Historical Newspapers, Birth, Marriage, & Death Announcements, 1851-2003 using John Cooke but there were no hits. I had a hard copy so I dug through my records and found it.
I'm not sure if ancestry reactivated all the records they had blocked a few weeks ago because I tried it again yesterday and I was able to access it. Very weird! Having records here one day and gone the next is frustrating. That makes me want to save what I find in multiple locations to insure that the data isn't lost.
If you're a member of the National Genealogical Society one of the new benefits is obtaining access to the United States and Canada records FREE on Find My Past. I tried last week to upload my tree as a gedcom to the site but I kept receiving an error message. Although my tree is large it's well within the limits of the Find My Past site. Going to try it again today. If you're interested in getting Find My Past, the first crack at registering for the upcoming Family History Conference to be held in Fort Lauderdale, Florida the first week of May, 2016, and very useful periodicals, you can join here,
Another though I had was the idea of creating ebooks on my lines once I've obtained genealogical certification. I could then download the ebook and print a hardcopy. I would include snips of the pertinent records in the text so if the original disappears there would still be a picture available.
So many ideas - so little time!
Friday, October 16, 2015
The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From the Tree - The Real Life of Johnny Appleseed
When I think of fall I don't think about pumpkins and leaves like most. Instead, I think of apples. I loved apple picking as a child and I knew what would come soon after, my grandma's apple strudel. We bobbed them, tried to bite chunks out that were dangling from the ceiling and dunked them in caramel. My neighbor, Carol, and I would twist the core while reciting the alphabet to determine the initials of who we would marry someday. Sweet or tart, there's an apple for every one's taste.
When my in-laws moved to a rural part of northeastern Indiana in the 1980's, hubby and I always knew where to turn on the unmarked road - just look for the old abandoned apple orchard on the corner. The trees were gnarly and the fruit small and withered. It always looked creepy to me, even on a bright sunny summertime day. I remarked to my father-in-law that it was a shame the trees were neglected. He said that he had heard that they were once owned by Johnny Appleseed. Little did I know how right he was.
I knew Johnny Appleseed was a real person named John Chapman. With a romantic notion of him traveling the west to plant apple seedlings so that pioneers could benefit from the delicious fruit on their journey, I knew little else about him.
I passed on the story of Johnny Appleseed to my children every fall when I made my mother's apple salad. They wanted us to plant an apple tree but in our part of Florida, that wouldn't work.
Imagine my surprise when I discovered this newspaper clipping with my father's papers after his death in the late 1990's:
Like most everything my family has left me, I have no idea of the source. Grrr-no newspaper name or date. Did Dad save it because the name Leininger was mentioned or was he, too, related somehow to Johnny Appleseed? Dad and I weren't close but there was an apple tree on my grandparent's farm in Hobart, Indiana that I used to climb. Wouldn't someone have told me if Johnny Appleseed was a relation?
John and George Leininger are common names in the family - I've got 19 John's and 18 George's. In addition, I've got combined John George and George John. I knew John Chapman never married and I had no Chapman's in my tree so I assumed the clipping was because of seeing the Leininger name. Yet, there was some other oddities that made me wonder. My step-grandmother was from Michigan, close to Hastings, and the Leininger family first settled in Ohio, though it was not Ashtabula. My aunt's name was Bonita and she once lived near Columbia City, Indiana. Hmmm.
It wasn't until a distant cousin emailed me his Leininger records that I learned that John Chapman was involved with the Leininger family and that spooky old orchard did in fact once belong to him.
"According to a deed signed by President Martin Van Buren, John Chapman owned 74.04 acres in the South 1/2 of the N.W. 1/4 Sec. 3 Twp 24 Range 15. The deed was dated March 11, 1836. This land is located in the far northeast corner of Jay County, on the Wabash River. It was on this land that he planted a nursery of appletree seedlings.... John Leininger purchased through a deed, entered July 1, 1839, 128.60 acres of the S.E. fraction of Sec. 15 of the same township. This land was located about two miles south of Chapman's land. John Leininger also purchased eight acres of land in Mercer Co., Ohio, on the other side of the State Line from his larger purchase. He built his house and buildings on the eight acres, so that he could send his children to Ohio schools, which were better at the time than Indiana's. Please realize that this area was practically wilderness at this time."1 My dear readers know I've written earlier about my family's interesting ways to get their children into the best school districts - see blog of 20 August 2015 Education Across State Lines.
The John Chapman and John Leininger Farms - Map courtesy of Robert LeRoy Leininger in his book, Leininger Family History and Genealogy (1970) p. 7F |
Elizabeth Broom Leininger Photo courtesy of Jill on Find-a-Grave |
Sarah Hough and John George Leininger Photo courtesy of Robert LeRoy Leininger |
John George's brothers Henry (left) and Jacob (my 2nd Great Grandfather-right) Photo courtesy of Robert LeRoy Leininger |
I've written about John George in a previous blog (see 26 June 2015 Planes, Trains, Automobiles & Barges, Oh My!) and how difficult it must have been for my 3rd great grandmother, Marie Gasse Leininger, to have to journey to America with young children.
Marie Margaretha Gasse Leininger Photo courtesy of Robert LeRoy Leininger |
I don't know what religion Percis and William followed but their daughter, Elizabeth, married into a Lutheran family. Johnny, however, followed the tenets of theologian Emmanuel Swedenborg. At the end of his days, Johnny was a barefoot vegetarian who preferred to treat everyone and everything with respect. Since that included Native Americans, animals and insects, Johnny was viewed as eccentric.
Here's some things I bet you didn't know about Johnny:
- Johnny's dad was one of the Minute Men in Boston during the American Revolution. When Johnny's mom and brother Nathaniel died in 1776, his dad returned home from the war. Johnny was raised by his step-mom.
- If you were a Girl Scout and sang the Johnny Appleseed blessing you really were singing Johnny's favorite traveling song. (Ohh, the Lord is good to me, and so I thank the Lord, for giving me, the things I need, the sun, the moon and the apple seed, the Lord is good to me.)
- The trees he planted weren't designed for eating - they were designed for drinking. Yep, Johnny was helping the settlers produce hard apple cider. No wonder they loved him! Johnny didn't believe in grafting which is the only way you can get an edible apple. Planting apple seeds produces a fruit that may be just plain awful (but not if you're going to use it for an alcoholic drink). Apple liquor was easier to make than corn liquor and cured quicker.
- He didn't just sell apple trees - he also had a business selling herbs. Native Americans purchased their herbs from Johnny.
- Johnny was the "Paul Revere of the Western Frontier." During the War of 1812 he warned settlers in Mount Vernon, Ohio that the Native Americans were planning an attack by racing 30 miles through dense forest. His actions saved the entire town.
- His pet was a wolf that he once freed from a trap.
- The west that Johnny ventured to was what we consider the midwest. He planted in Pennsylvania, Ohio and Indiana. There is some who think he went as far south as northwestern West Virginia, then known as Virginia, but that hasn't be authenticated.
- Johnny was the first person to travel between nursery sites. He'd plant, stay a bit, then travel back to nurture a site he previously planted, move to a new site to plant and then move on to visit one he already planted. This enabled him to have supplies in various places and not lose a crop due to poor weather conditions.
- He'd rip out pages of his Bible to give to settlers and the remains of the last one he wore stuck in his belt was last known in 1970 to be in the possession of Waldo Dock, a descendant, in Celina, Ohio.
So the real Johnny would have fit right in the 1960's as a hippie type that would have approved of Boone's Farm Apple Wine with his special herb mixture.
Oh, and that newspaper article - seems that it was from the Ft. Wayne, Indiana newspaper around 1931 when Robert Harris was interested in finding descendants. So it wasn't cut out by my dad after all. Most likely either my grandmother or grandfather clipped the article as that is where they were living at the time. Robert Harris published a book in 1946 about Johnny.
One more mystery remains - that apple tree I used to climb on the family farm. I wonder if it was one of Johnny's. We couldn't eat the fruit as my mom said it was "bad" and my grandparents were from the Ft. Wayne area so it just might have been one of Johnny's. Too bad we'll never know. The farm is now a subdivision and the apple tree was cut down in the 1990's.
1 Leininger, Robert LeRoy Leininger Family History and Genealogy Two Centuries of Leiningers Manchester, IN: Self Published, 1971, Appendix F.
2 The Straight Dope: "What's the story with Johnny Appleseed?" Straightdope.com. Retrieved. 11 Oct 2015.
1 Leininger, Robert LeRoy Leininger Family History and Genealogy Two Centuries of Leiningers Manchester, IN: Self Published, 1971, Appendix F.
2 The Straight Dope: "What's the story with Johnny Appleseed?" Straightdope.com. Retrieved. 11 Oct 2015.
Sunday, October 11, 2015
A New Genealogy Society - What Fun!
My sister-in-law called me last week and wanted to know if she was Scotch-Irish. I laughed and told her she was of Scottish and Irish heritage. I then explained that the term Scotch-Irish is derogatory and only used in the U.S.
She was happy to find out that she was indeed Scottish as a new genealogy society is being established in the city where she lives and she wants to join with her friends. The first organizational meeting is today so she doesn't have a membership application to complete or much information on the requirements.
I looked at a similar organization and, knowing that I'm going to be extremely busy with my day job and trying to get my genealogy certification portfolio put together, I told her I'd pull the records for her as an early Christmas present.
Oh what fun it was to review my older research notes on one of my favorite couples on my husband's side! I really wish I could have met these folks as they are just endearing to me with their spunk, love and acceptance of each other's differences.
John Cooke was born in Whees, Stirlingshire Scotland about 1827. I have him with his family in the 1841 and 1851 census in Scotland. I've never been able to locate an emigration record but he must have come to New York City shortly after 1851 as he married Mary "Mollie" O'Brien in 1854 in Newark, New Jersey. Mary was born in 1835 in Limerick, Ireland and thanks to the Irish records now available online, I have her Roman Catholic Baptism record. Of course, it is on the right side towards the bottom of the page that is most difficult to read! Mollie and her step-sister, Ellen, emigrated in February 1853 as domestic servants with another girl from her parish. This was during the potato famine and there is no records of land ownership by Mollie's parents so times must have been tough. Coming to a new country at 18 years of age with nothing takes spunk!
Newark, New Jersey, being just across the river from New York City, was the perfect place to elope and take the train to Chicago. I don't know for fact that Mollie and John eloped but it's awfully odd that there were no traditional wedding banns posted, which was a common Roman Catholic tradition. Also strange is that step-sis Ellen wasn't the witness. It appears that two unrelated parishioners did that job. The birth information that was given at the church doesn't quite match reality, either. With no relatives around to question, John shaved off a few years, making him the same age as Mollie.
The couple remained together until John's death in 1889. Mollie lived until 1903 and never remarried. I believe they truly loved one another and their respect goes way beyond what a lot of folks can't do even today. The couple made an arrangement prior to their marriage - all female children would be raised Roman Catholic and all male children would be raised Protestant. I'm not sure how Mollie got the Roman Catholic Church to agree to this since the rule was if you were married in the church you were agreeing to raise ALL of your children in the faith. I also have to give John credit for marrying Mollie in her church and giving 50-50 in regards to the children. I'm really impressed this agreement was made 160 years ago and both parties kept their word. With integrity, they didn't need a written pre-nuptial
The couple had 3 children - 2 Protestant boys and 1 Catholic girl. I've been in contact with the girls descendants and they are all Catholic to this day. All of the boys descendants I've been in contact with continue to be Protestant except for one and that was due to marrying a Catholic girl (me).
Interestingly, when John died he was buried in the Protestant cemetery, Calvary, in Cook County, Illinois. Mary's death certificate noted that she was going to be interred in Calvary, too, but she wasn't. She was buried in Queen of Peace Roman Catholic Cemetery instead. After 15 years of being apart the children decided the couple needed to be together so John was re-interred next to Mollie. Unfortunately, there was no stone. I assume because the cost of re-interment was considerable at the time. I wish I could afford to put a stone there cause this is a true love story that needs to be long remembered.
She was happy to find out that she was indeed Scottish as a new genealogy society is being established in the city where she lives and she wants to join with her friends. The first organizational meeting is today so she doesn't have a membership application to complete or much information on the requirements.
I looked at a similar organization and, knowing that I'm going to be extremely busy with my day job and trying to get my genealogy certification portfolio put together, I told her I'd pull the records for her as an early Christmas present.
Oh what fun it was to review my older research notes on one of my favorite couples on my husband's side! I really wish I could have met these folks as they are just endearing to me with their spunk, love and acceptance of each other's differences.
John Cooke was born in Whees, Stirlingshire Scotland about 1827. I have him with his family in the 1841 and 1851 census in Scotland. I've never been able to locate an emigration record but he must have come to New York City shortly after 1851 as he married Mary "Mollie" O'Brien in 1854 in Newark, New Jersey. Mary was born in 1835 in Limerick, Ireland and thanks to the Irish records now available online, I have her Roman Catholic Baptism record. Of course, it is on the right side towards the bottom of the page that is most difficult to read! Mollie and her step-sister, Ellen, emigrated in February 1853 as domestic servants with another girl from her parish. This was during the potato famine and there is no records of land ownership by Mollie's parents so times must have been tough. Coming to a new country at 18 years of age with nothing takes spunk!
Newark, New Jersey, being just across the river from New York City, was the perfect place to elope and take the train to Chicago. I don't know for fact that Mollie and John eloped but it's awfully odd that there were no traditional wedding banns posted, which was a common Roman Catholic tradition. Also strange is that step-sis Ellen wasn't the witness. It appears that two unrelated parishioners did that job. The birth information that was given at the church doesn't quite match reality, either. With no relatives around to question, John shaved off a few years, making him the same age as Mollie.
The couple remained together until John's death in 1889. Mollie lived until 1903 and never remarried. I believe they truly loved one another and their respect goes way beyond what a lot of folks can't do even today. The couple made an arrangement prior to their marriage - all female children would be raised Roman Catholic and all male children would be raised Protestant. I'm not sure how Mollie got the Roman Catholic Church to agree to this since the rule was if you were married in the church you were agreeing to raise ALL of your children in the faith. I also have to give John credit for marrying Mollie in her church and giving 50-50 in regards to the children. I'm really impressed this agreement was made 160 years ago and both parties kept their word. With integrity, they didn't need a written pre-nuptial
The couple had 3 children - 2 Protestant boys and 1 Catholic girl. I've been in contact with the girls descendants and they are all Catholic to this day. All of the boys descendants I've been in contact with continue to be Protestant except for one and that was due to marrying a Catholic girl (me).
Interestingly, when John died he was buried in the Protestant cemetery, Calvary, in Cook County, Illinois. Mary's death certificate noted that she was going to be interred in Calvary, too, but she wasn't. She was buried in Queen of Peace Roman Catholic Cemetery instead. After 15 years of being apart the children decided the couple needed to be together so John was re-interred next to Mollie. Unfortunately, there was no stone. I assume because the cost of re-interment was considerable at the time. I wish I could afford to put a stone there cause this is a true love story that needs to be long remembered.
Wednesday, October 7, 2015
Obtaining Certification - An Update
In the past month I've made some progress towards obtaining Certified Genealogist status. I attended the webinar on September 16th from the Association of Professional Genealogists that I found very helpful. I was inspired by the presenter and moderator and a few days after made a timeline of how to proceed. I've looked at the timeline recommendations from the Board of Certification http://www.bcgcertification.org/certification/timeline.html
and modified it somewhat because of my personality. I don't want to commit to something I can't deliver so I want to start 3 of the 4 portfolio requirements and when I'm confident that they can be completed, I'll firmly commit and then work on completing one at a time based on the suggested timeline. That approach worked for me when I was obtaining my National Board Certified Teacher status for school counseling so I'm going to go with it again.
Since the webinar I've identified who I'll be doing for the Kinship Determination paper and completed the introduction, pulled hard copies of the records I'll be using, wrote for additional records and numbered the pedigree. Initially I wasn't certain which line I was going to focus on but after reviewing several individuals I'm quite happy with my final decision. I ended up selecting these particular folks because of the time period in which they lived and the events that they experienced. Wish I could share more but one of the requirements is that the submissions haven't been previously published so my lips are sealed.
I'm still waiting for records that I requested for the case study and I'm a little frustrated with the organization that holds them. I told my co-worker client that I may just have to drive up to try to get them in person since I'm getting the run around on the phone. It's a 6 hour drive so I'm hesitant to do it with my regular work commitments. First I was told that the file had been found but that my client had to have her request notarized. No where on the website did it say that the request was to be notarized. I was given a fax number to fax the notarized request and we tried to comply the following day except the fax number that I was given didn't work. Made 3 attempts from 3 different faxes over the course of a day. Tried to call the number that was on the web and no one answered and there was no answering machine. Mailed the notarized request. After 3 weeks hadn't heard so tried to call again. The phone number is now the fax machine. Faxed a note stating we hadn't heard and wanted to verify that the notarized copy was received via US Post Office mail. Got a call the next day from the same person I had originally spoken with and a whole new story. Originally I was told that the person was a volunteer who only pulled records twice a week. Now I was told that the person was employed and it was an add-on job and she didn't have time to pull records quickly. I didn't want to make her angrier than she was so I didn't mention, according to our prior phone call, that she had the file already on her desk. Geez! She said the process was that the supervisor had to review the request and the supervisor had only been given the request the day before (just happened to be the day I faxed a reminder, hmmm) and that it would be at least another 2 weeks until a determination will be made if the records will be released or not. None of this was mentioned when I first spoke with the organization. None of this is on the webiste. I shared this with my client and she's thinking there must be something in those records that they don't want us to see. I'm not sure what the issue is. So for now, I'm keeping my fingers crossed that we get something.
This upcoming weekend I'm going to identify the record I'm going to analyze. I've pulled out my "hurricane box." That's a plastic filing box that I keep my old genealogy records in so that they will hopefully, remain safe in their individual plastic sleeves in the event of a flood. I have some idea of what I want to do but what particular record I select I'm not yet sure.
I'm thinking that by the end of the month I'll formally send in the application and the clock will start ticking (I'll have a year to complete the portfolio). In a way, I feel like the clock's already ticking!
Sunday, October 4, 2015
Genealogy and Addiction
Today an important event is happening in our nation's capitol - 600 organizations are uniting to take a stand concerning a serious problem that must be addressed in our country. UNITE TO FACE ADDICTION is focused on finding ways to help the 22 million Americans who are addicts, 23 million who are in recovery and put a stop to the death toll of 350 individuals a day who die from addiction related causes.
Dependency on drugs in the U.S. is not a new problem and my family, like scores of others, have been affected. The Washington Post recently published an article on current research in the field. "... addiction -- to drugs, alcohol, or any other destructive habit -- doesn't come as the result of some personal failings. Its the result of some pretty serious brain chemistry."1 Unfortunately, for generations, families have felt the need to face the problem in secret due to society's repercussions and erroneous beliefs that addicts are people who simply make poor choices and lack willpower. I applaud the millennial generation who are getting the message across that is not the case. Addiction is a disease and effective treatment is possible.
My maternal lines and my husband's maternal and paternal lines are filled with alcoholics. Not knowing much about my father's side I didn't think much about his abstinence from alcohol. When I began researching his lines I was shocked to discover the following newspaper accounts of his maternal grandfather from the 3 Jul 1909:
"Perry Long and Frank Landfair, arrested at Celina charged, with selling liquor to Harry Karr, a habitual drunkard, after they had been warned not to do so, were found guilty and each fined fifty dollars and costs."2
The 1910 US Federal Census shows Grandma Emma Kuhn Landfair as divorced. Was the divorce due to the conviction or was Frank Landfair also an alcoholic and the conviction was the last straw for Great-Grandma? Although we may never know for sure, Frank's brother, Charles, experienced his own problems with addiction.
Charles' issues with alcohol led to a divorce, loss of his medical license and a prison sentence.
I can find no documentation that 3 other brothers who survived into adulthood were affected by the disease.
Thinking about the siblings, I'm thinking that's why many people today do not view addiction as a disease; when one sibling is an addict people think, if addiction is truly a disease, than the others siblings should also be addicts. That's faulty reasoning. My mother's two sisters had breast cancer but my mother did not. Everyone would agree that cancer is a disease. Why the assumption is often made that every family member would be an addict is erroneous but the believe exists.
Let's hope that the millennials are able to finally move forward regarding acceptance and support of individuals who are or have experienced addiction. It's time.
1Feltman, Rachel. "The Sinister Science of Addiction." Washington Post. The Washington Post, 14 Sept. 2015. Web. 04 Oct. 2015.
2 The Lima News 3 Jul 2009 Accessed through Newspaper Archives Web 20 Feb 2010.
Dependency on drugs in the U.S. is not a new problem and my family, like scores of others, have been affected. The Washington Post recently published an article on current research in the field. "... addiction -- to drugs, alcohol, or any other destructive habit -- doesn't come as the result of some personal failings. Its the result of some pretty serious brain chemistry."1 Unfortunately, for generations, families have felt the need to face the problem in secret due to society's repercussions and erroneous beliefs that addicts are people who simply make poor choices and lack willpower. I applaud the millennial generation who are getting the message across that is not the case. Addiction is a disease and effective treatment is possible.
My maternal lines and my husband's maternal and paternal lines are filled with alcoholics. Not knowing much about my father's side I didn't think much about his abstinence from alcohol. When I began researching his lines I was shocked to discover the following newspaper accounts of his maternal grandfather from the 3 Jul 1909:
"Perry Long and Frank Landfair, arrested at Celina charged, with selling liquor to Harry Karr, a habitual drunkard, after they had been warned not to do so, were found guilty and each fined fifty dollars and costs."2
The 1910 US Federal Census shows Grandma Emma Kuhn Landfair as divorced. Was the divorce due to the conviction or was Frank Landfair also an alcoholic and the conviction was the last straw for Great-Grandma? Although we may never know for sure, Frank's brother, Charles, experienced his own problems with addiction.
Charles' issues with alcohol led to a divorce, loss of his medical license and a prison sentence.
I can find no documentation that 3 other brothers who survived into adulthood were affected by the disease.
Thinking about the siblings, I'm thinking that's why many people today do not view addiction as a disease; when one sibling is an addict people think, if addiction is truly a disease, than the others siblings should also be addicts. That's faulty reasoning. My mother's two sisters had breast cancer but my mother did not. Everyone would agree that cancer is a disease. Why the assumption is often made that every family member would be an addict is erroneous but the believe exists.
Let's hope that the millennials are able to finally move forward regarding acceptance and support of individuals who are or have experienced addiction. It's time.
1Feltman, Rachel. "The Sinister Science of Addiction." Washington Post. The Washington Post, 14 Sept. 2015. Web. 04 Oct. 2015.
2 The Lima News 3 Jul 2009 Accessed through Newspaper Archives Web 20 Feb 2010.
Thursday, October 1, 2015
For the Love of School
I've been blogging a lot about education as I've shared my husband's grandmother's 8th grade final exams. As I continue to do research for the Kinship Determination paper in fulfillment of one of the portfolio requirements for obtaining accreditation as a Certified Genealogist, I found several references to a severe teacher in the early 1800's in Pennsylvania. I can't share much due to following the directions for the submission but it's hard for me to get the meanness of that teacher out of my brain! He was well remembered nearly 50 years after he taught but those memories from his students weren't at all pleasant.
We hear so much today about infusing rigor and insuring accountability in public education. In the earlier days of our country, that was not a concern. Developing "good" citizens was what was most important. There were no teacher certification programs, curriculum standards or laws related to compulsory student attendance. Yet students learned. We moved from an agrarian society to a factory model and now, to a technological one. Certainly different skills are needed today than in the early 1800's, however, the basics are just as relevant as they were in the past. Instilling a desire to become a lifelong learner and teaching a student how to seek out needed information remains vitally important.
My grandfather received little formal education in his native Austria-Hungary (now Croatia). Today, we would consider him to be illiterate. My grandmother received 3 years of formal public education in the United States after she emigrated. My mother was the oldest child of this immigrant couple. Mom received little educational support at home as the focus was on bringing money into the household to insure security.
My mother's elementary school years were at Glen Park Elementary in Gary, Lake County, Indiana:
I took this photo when I last visited the area in December 2001. My mom had wonderful memories of the warm teachers who instilled in her not only the basics but the culture of the community. Mom said she cried when she graduated from the school and had to attend Franklin Junior High. She was taken under the wing of the Home Economics teacher at Franklin and continued to love school.
Unfortunately, the Great Recession occurred and it was necessary for her to help her family financially so mom quit attending Lew Wallace High School in 10th grade to go to work. At the time, she was the most educated individual in her family.
Being a second generation away from immigration, my educational experiences were very different than my mothers. Noncompulsory kindergarten was available so I attended a church school's half day morning program. I was fortunate to start my schooling with a phenomenal teacher, Bethel Ebelglebin Mattingly. "Miss E" was the founder of the Jack and Jill Academy at Augustana Lutheran Church in Hobart, Indiana. I was reading, printing and could add and subtract two digit numbers by the time I finished her program. Once a month we went on a field trip - to the community library, the movie theatre (where Miss E. had kicked off her shoes and they happened to roll down the aisle. We had a hunt to find them when the movie ended!), my father's farm, picnic in the park, and fishing at Lake George are all fond memories. The most important skill Miss E. taught us, though, was how to work with others.
One morning, about a month into the school year, Miss E. decided to move student seats around. I was devastated to be moved away from my then best friend, Melanie, and placed between two boys. These boys were alot slower than I was academically and would probably be called ADHD today. When my mom picked me up from school I informed her I wasn't going back if I had to sit at the new table. Mom said that Miss E was very smart and must have a good reason to have made the seat changes so we had to respect the decision. I didn't care, I was not going to go back. I had been bumped into all morning long, had felt the need to pick up all the crayons they dropped and didn't like the noises they made. Mom said she would speak with Miss E. but I was going back to school.
Mom followed through on her promise. I stayed the next morning and was sure my seat would be changed. Except it wasn't. Mid-morning when the class went out for recess Miss E. told me we needed "a chat." She explained to me that I was a model student and that she had hoped that I would help out the boys who needed to develop some of the skills that I had. She asked if I wanted to be a teacher some day. I told her I was going to be a cowgirl. Miss E. said sitting between the boys would help me be a better cowgirl as cows needed extra effort to get them to go where you wanted. Personally, I didn't understand how the boys needed to be moved along like cattle nor did I care to move them but Miss E. was so kind and made me understand that the class was a team and we needed to move forward together. My seat remained and I learned to get along.
Mrs. Mattingly passed away in 2009. We kept in touch over the years and she was very pleased to learn that I did, indeed, become an educator and not a cowgirl. Towards the end of her life, we would chat monthly. If she called me when I wasn't home she would leave a message on my answering machine that said, "This is Miss E. I'm sorry I missed you, Lori dear. I hope you're being a good girl. We'll talk soon."
My husband loved those messages since I still tend to be feisty (as the Walgreens clerk labeled me last Sunday but that's another story) and he still kids me about being a "good girl." He saved on tape one of the last messages she left and I'm so glad he did.
Below is a picture of Mrs. Mattingly on her birthday:
My parents separated during my kindergarten year so my mother and I moved back to the family home in Glen Park. The next 8 years were spent at St. Mark's School. Grades 1-4 were in the old building and grades 5-8 were in what was then the new building (below). Only headstart is offered currently:
Although I received a rigorous education at St. Marks it didn't include the loving nature of Miss E. Our early grades had 50 students in a class, 2 classes per grade level so the teachers didn't have alot of time for warm and fuzzy. My teachers were either extremely old and I was in the last class they were teaching, or very young and they didn't have the process of running a classroom down. I had one exceptional teacher in middle school who left to seek fame and fortune in California and was never heard from again.
I developed a great dislike of math due to an incident at the chalkboard below (which is now a church office):
Our teacher would place math problems on the board and we had to go up to the board in line based on the row she called to complete the problem. I didn't like the feel of chalk on my hands and I hated the squeak it made. My goal was to get done as quick as possible. I was able to do that by figuring out which problem I would get ahead of time, calculating the answer in my head and then quickly writing the answer and returning to my seat. Except one late fall day the student in front of me needed to tie his shoe so Sister Martina made him get out of line and told me to go around him. I did and went to what should have been my problem. Sister told me to move to what would have been his problem. I completely blanked out. I stood there and couldn't process. She spoke louder to me which didn't help. I began to cry. She told me I could stand there until I got the answer. This wasn't said in a threatening way but I felt added pressure to complete what I couldn't so I cried louder. Some sweet girl whispered the answer and I wrote it down and returned to my seat. I decided that moment that I didn't like math, would never like math and couldn't do math. I've been battling those thoughts ever since. I know I'm not alone; I guess that's why I relate so well to the comment my husband's grandmother wrote on her failed 8th grade Algebra exam "Not that old story again!" (see blog of 10 Sep 2015 More of Elsie's Exams - An Indiana 1910 End of Course Math Assessment)
In reflecting on my education, what I know of my mom's, and Elsie's from her exams, I've reached the conclusion that the most important part of education is not the rigor of the curriculum. What matters most is that the student feels it's safe to tackle the rigor and that the instructor listens and cares.
Funny how this is apparent in the historical records, too, but widely ignored. Reminds me of the quote by George Santayana,
We hear so much today about infusing rigor and insuring accountability in public education. In the earlier days of our country, that was not a concern. Developing "good" citizens was what was most important. There were no teacher certification programs, curriculum standards or laws related to compulsory student attendance. Yet students learned. We moved from an agrarian society to a factory model and now, to a technological one. Certainly different skills are needed today than in the early 1800's, however, the basics are just as relevant as they were in the past. Instilling a desire to become a lifelong learner and teaching a student how to seek out needed information remains vitally important.
My grandfather received little formal education in his native Austria-Hungary (now Croatia). Today, we would consider him to be illiterate. My grandmother received 3 years of formal public education in the United States after she emigrated. My mother was the oldest child of this immigrant couple. Mom received little educational support at home as the focus was on bringing money into the household to insure security.
My mother's elementary school years were at Glen Park Elementary in Gary, Lake County, Indiana:
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Glen Park Elementary School, Gary, Indiana |
Unfortunately, the Great Recession occurred and it was necessary for her to help her family financially so mom quit attending Lew Wallace High School in 10th grade to go to work. At the time, she was the most educated individual in her family.
Being a second generation away from immigration, my educational experiences were very different than my mothers. Noncompulsory kindergarten was available so I attended a church school's half day morning program. I was fortunate to start my schooling with a phenomenal teacher, Bethel Ebelglebin Mattingly. "Miss E" was the founder of the Jack and Jill Academy at Augustana Lutheran Church in Hobart, Indiana. I was reading, printing and could add and subtract two digit numbers by the time I finished her program. Once a month we went on a field trip - to the community library, the movie theatre (where Miss E. had kicked off her shoes and they happened to roll down the aisle. We had a hunt to find them when the movie ended!), my father's farm, picnic in the park, and fishing at Lake George are all fond memories. The most important skill Miss E. taught us, though, was how to work with others.
One morning, about a month into the school year, Miss E. decided to move student seats around. I was devastated to be moved away from my then best friend, Melanie, and placed between two boys. These boys were alot slower than I was academically and would probably be called ADHD today. When my mom picked me up from school I informed her I wasn't going back if I had to sit at the new table. Mom said that Miss E was very smart and must have a good reason to have made the seat changes so we had to respect the decision. I didn't care, I was not going to go back. I had been bumped into all morning long, had felt the need to pick up all the crayons they dropped and didn't like the noises they made. Mom said she would speak with Miss E. but I was going back to school.
Mom followed through on her promise. I stayed the next morning and was sure my seat would be changed. Except it wasn't. Mid-morning when the class went out for recess Miss E. told me we needed "a chat." She explained to me that I was a model student and that she had hoped that I would help out the boys who needed to develop some of the skills that I had. She asked if I wanted to be a teacher some day. I told her I was going to be a cowgirl. Miss E. said sitting between the boys would help me be a better cowgirl as cows needed extra effort to get them to go where you wanted. Personally, I didn't understand how the boys needed to be moved along like cattle nor did I care to move them but Miss E. was so kind and made me understand that the class was a team and we needed to move forward together. My seat remained and I learned to get along.
Mrs. Mattingly passed away in 2009. We kept in touch over the years and she was very pleased to learn that I did, indeed, become an educator and not a cowgirl. Towards the end of her life, we would chat monthly. If she called me when I wasn't home she would leave a message on my answering machine that said, "This is Miss E. I'm sorry I missed you, Lori dear. I hope you're being a good girl. We'll talk soon."
My husband loved those messages since I still tend to be feisty (as the Walgreens clerk labeled me last Sunday but that's another story) and he still kids me about being a "good girl." He saved on tape one of the last messages she left and I'm so glad he did.
Below is a picture of Mrs. Mattingly on her birthday:
![]() |
Bethel Ebleglebin Mattingly |
![]() |
Former St. Marks Roman Catholic School, Gary, Indiana |
I developed a great dislike of math due to an incident at the chalkboard below (which is now a church office):
![]() |
Former 1st Grade Classroom, St. Marks Roman Catholic School, Gary, Indiana |
In reflecting on my education, what I know of my mom's, and Elsie's from her exams, I've reached the conclusion that the most important part of education is not the rigor of the curriculum. What matters most is that the student feels it's safe to tackle the rigor and that the instructor listens and cares.
Funny how this is apparent in the historical records, too, but widely ignored. Reminds me of the quote by George Santayana,
"Those who do not remember the past are condemned to repeat it."
In education we constantly look for the new big idea instead of looking to the past and finding the answer was there all the time.
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