My latest “Your famous ancestor” listing on the Ancestry.com app nearly made me cry. Why? Because I wanted to call Dad and hear his reaction. As you may recall from The Maine man (sadly, the final story Dad and I worked on together), he reacted unexpectedly when I shared with him that his grandfather George was once accused of arson: “Oh, boy! Ever since I was I kid, I’d hoped there was a criminal somewhere in our family tree! Not…
It’s already been established that Farmer Gary and I enjoy reading obituaries together. It’s a solid way to get to know those who’ve gone before us. This morning, we found this obituary from 1916. This is Gary’s great-great grandmother (George Werne’s grandmother): Here’s the text of that first paragraph: Mrs. John Hedinger (nee Mary Druschscherer), passed quietly away at the home of her son George last Tuesday morning at 3:30 of senile debility. She was feeble for some time and…
This one’s a bit of a shocker. Earlier this week, we learned about Vedal Pooler, victim of political violence in 1904. Today’s story is about his grandfather, also named Vedal Pooler (with the same multiple variations of name spellings I griped about before). This Vedal is my great-great-great grandfather. He is Dad‘s grandmother Alice Pooler Vayo’s grandfather. He was born in Canada in 1828, give or take. Vedal immigrated to Maine with his wife, Angelina. First, they lived in the…
It always shocks me to come upon a family story that follows our current news cycle. Maybe it shouldn’t. It’s taken me a few weeks to piece this together – and there are still some lingering questions. But here is the story of Vetal Pooler, Jr. First of all, let me share that I’ve learned from several genealogists’ tutorials recently that the spelling of names didn’t really matter until the 1930s. Shocking, I know! That knowledge, though, helps in the…
In an email to my brothers a few days ago, I mentioned September 13 as a trifecta in our family: Before anyone accuses me of being some sort of family-history savant, I must confess the reminders come from the Ancestry app. Something else the app provides? A feature called “Your famous ancestor.” Of course, if you go back enough generations, we’re all related in one way or another. So, no big deal, right? However, this relative in particular is like…
Did you know when your ancestors came over from Germany, one brother settled in Iowa? Farmer Gary got a dreamy look on his face. “There’s really good farm land in Iowa.” For a minute I worried he was planning to load up the wagons and head westward. But Gary’s roots here in southern Indiana are deep. While Gary’s great-great grandfather Adam Werne Sr. immigrated to southern Indiana, his brother Peter headed to Dubuque with his young family. Peter and Margarett…
Well technically, she was four days short of her 103rd birthday, but it seems only fair to round up. Alice Plante Maillet was a first cousin to my Grandma, Lucie Plante Vayo. Alice was one of 15 children born to Jean Baptiste and Rose Anne Plante. That’s right: 15. And here they all are: Did a thousand questions just rush into your brain? Sure, times were different when Alice was born in Lewiston, Maine, in 1899. But still, how did…
Admittedly, my approach to genealogy is scattershot. Whether it’s an interesting photo, one of Mom’s poems, or a geographic location, when something interesting catches my eye, that’s the rabbit hole we scamper down for hours and sometimes days. And then there are the overriding questions about our ancestors’ origins. Case in point: How far back on Dad‘s side of the family must we go to find ourselves in France? We know they came to Maine by way of Canada several…
While fluffing out Dad‘s side of the family tree this week, I came across an interesting fellow by the name of Harry Melbourn Nightingale. He was born in New Brunswick, Canada, on August 21, 1883. One of 11 children to Enoch and Martha. The family immigrated to Maine in 1890 and settled in Aroostook County. Harry went to school, grew up, labored sometimes as a farmer and sometimes “in the woods.” He worked at several shoe shops and the Turner…
Farmer Gary and I have a twice-daily tête-à-tête in the sunroom during which time we read obituaries. It’s not my thing, but Gary is a dedicated condolences-giver. Even when it’s been a generation since the last communication, his ears will perk when I start reading the online obit: “Dad bought a calf from his grandfather once. When’s visitation?“ Recently, we added information from the Ancestry app to our routine. It provides that week’s birthdays, wedding anniversaries, and death-date memorials from…