On the Trail of the Andersons

This week I received an inquiry requesting information about Mary Elizabeth Anderson (1887-1982) from a gentleman who believed she served as a missionary in Africa for about 35 years. He said she is buried in Wichita, Kansas. It appears he has been searching for more of Mary Elizabeth's history to no avail. He also thought there was a book about her, but he couldn't remember the title or author. This is the type of challenge I find irresistable and most satisfyingly, I turned up some interesting information.

My go-to source for any individual who may be connected to the Adventist church is the Seventh-day Adventist Obituary Index. My initial search in this database turned up nothing. So based on my experience with researching the history of other missionaries, I turned to Ancestry.com's immigration and travel records. Success! Between ships' passenger lists and passport applications, I quickly learned that our mysterious missionary was born Mary Elizabeth Perin in Iowa in 1887. And she was married to William Harrison Anderson. With the husband's name I returned to the obituary index and found a treasure trove of details in William's obituaries.

To summarize, Mary Elizabeth Perin was born in Conway, Iowa on December 13, 1887. During Mary Elizabeth's teen years her family moved to Kansas where, according to the Seventh-day Adventist Yearbook, she taught church school in 1907. In the 1908 Yearbook she is also listed as a missionary licentiate. Union College's student publication, the Educational Messenger reported Mary Perin among the people enrolled in the Central Union Conference's summer school in 1906. However, a check of Union's transcripts and registration books turned up no academic records. And Perin is not listed among Union College alumni honored by a golden cord for their international service. 

What remains a mystery is how Mary Elizabeth Perin met William "Harry" Anderson since he was already working in Africa by 1910 when they married. Anderson was born in Mexico, Indiana and was a pioneer in the Solusi Mission. W. H. Anderson is mentioned in Virgil Robinson’s The Solusi Story. Anderson was called to Africa in 1895 while he was still in college and graduated in absentia. The book does not say where he attended college, but according to his obituary this was most likely Battle Creek College. His first wife was from Michigan and she died in the mission field in 1908.

While Mary most likely did not work at Solusi, she did spend somewhere between 35 and 40 years with her husband in Africa. They retired in North Carolina where Harry died in 1950. Thirty-two years later, Mary died in Kansas.

Virgil Robinson’s book, The Solusi Story, is really about Solusi and confuses the Andersons' history. All of Robinson's stories involving Mrs. Anderson at the founding of Solusi are Nora Anderson, the first wife. He doesn’t speak of her death and Anderson just disappears from the story (because they had already moved on to work in other parts of Africa) until Solusi’s 50th anniversary in which W. H. Anderson came back as a celebrity. Robinson again includes “Mrs. Anderson” in the story, but never specifies that this time it is Mary Anderson, the second wife, who appears to have had no part in founding Solusi.

The Solusi Story is probably not the book my inquirer had in mind. There are two better possibilities: Desert Track and Jungle Trail is Virgil Robinson's somewhat fictionalized version of the Anderson story and is dedicated to Mary Anderson. In this book Robinson explains that Anderson met Mary Perin in Takoma Park, Maryland while on furlough in 1910, but still sheds no light on why Mary was in Takoma Park. Approximately half of the story takes place after their marriage.

The second book my inquirer may have been thinking of is W.H. Anderson's own On the Trail of Livingstone. However since it was published in 1919, it can only tell part of the story.

For those interested in learning more about the Andersons, there is likely much more to be discovered by browsing old issues of the Review and Herald, Southern African Division Outlook, and South African Missionary. Searches of the Seventh-day Adventist Yearbook would provide a timeline of locations and positions lived in and held by the Andersons. All of these resources are available online through the General Conference Office of Archives, Statistics, and Research.

Sources:

Advent Review and Sabbath Herald, July 16, 1950, pg. 112. Advent Review and Sabbath Herald, August 31, 1950, pg. 20. Anderson, W. H. On the Trail of Livingstone. Mountain View, CA: Pacific Press, 1919. Educational Messenger,  June 15, 1906, pg. 14. Robinson, Virgil. Desert Track and Jungle Trail. Nampa, ID: Pacific Press, 2013 (reprint of the 1968 original). Robinson, Virgil. The Solusi Story: Times of Peace, Times of Peril. Washington, DC: Review and Herald, 1979. Seventh-day Adventist Yearbook, 1907, pg. 54. Seventh-day Adventist Yearbook, 1908, pg.  Southern African Division Outlook, July 1, 1950, pg. 8. Southern African Division Outlook, August 15, 1950, pg. 6. Southern Tidings, August 2, 1950, pg. 13-14.

Treasures From the Attic

Not long ago my cousins Karen and Errol (whose paternal grandmother, Blanche, was a sister to my great-grandfather, Clint Fox) had the difficult task of cleaning out their childhood home, an old farmhouse purchased by their grandparents and where their father, Irwin Mang, was born. Among the clutter and many antiques, a few treasures surprised the family. These treasures include the portraits of three women which were the subject of much speculation at a family gathering last weekend. I didn't have my copy of Maureen A. Taylor's Family Photo Detective (Cincinnati, OH: Family Tree Books, 2013) which I find invaluable in dating pictures based on hair and clothing styles, so I could not contribute as much to the conversation as I wanted to.

All three are framed charcoal or conte crayon (made of charcoal and wax) portraits. Popular in the second half of the 19th century and still produced in the early 20th century (just search "charcoal portrait" on eBay), these portraits were commercially reproduced from smaller professional photographs which customers either mailed to a company or took to a traveling itinerant artist who set up a studio in a local shop. At a time when photography was usually limited to small pictures, crayon portraits gave families larger inexpensive portraits they could hang on a wall. Of the three portraits shown below, only one has been positively identified.

Portrait 1

This first picture is almost certainly Christiana Lantz Fox, the wife of Jonas Fox (1816-1894). They were Clint and Blanche's grandparents. My grandmother's collection of family papers includes other pictures of Jonas and Christiana with which we were able to match this portrait.  Born in 1824, Christiana was the fourth child of Henry Lantz and Christiana Follmer of Northumberland County, Pennsylvania. Christiana married Jonas on June 8, 1843 and they moved to St. Joseph County, Michigan sometime between 1850 and 1860. They later relocated to Kalamazoo County where Christiana died in 1892. 

So when would this portrait have been drawn? With the plain background and very little of her clothing showing, the eye is immediately drawn to Christiana's face. The slight wrinkles, sunken eyes, and double-chin are all characteristics of mature age. Christiana's severely center-parted hair is indicative of the 1870s and very early 1880s. Not enough of her clothing is shown to study all of its nuances. But the fitted shoulders, high neck, and large flat buttons place the dress between 1878 and 1882. Assuming that Christiana may have been thrifty with her clothing and not particularly style conscious, this portrait could have been drawn closer to her death. She was only 68 when she died and given her life as a farm wife, she probably would have looked older than this portrait shows. However, there is the potential that the charcoal medium did not accurately portray her age. I estimate this portrait was made sometime in the 1880s, likely in the early years of the decade.

Portrait 2

This portrait is a complete mystery. The name Bertha is written in pencil on the back, but we know of no Bertha's among our Fox ancestors. There is also the suggestion of an address, but this information could be some other notation as well. 

The softer hairstyle with hair pulled into a back bun and bangs less frizzed than was popular in the 1870s and 1880 is common of the late 1890s. The puffed sleeves also indicate the late 1890s. While the late 1890s continued to see puffed sleeves they were reduced in size from the excessively ballooned "leg-of-mutton" sleeves of the early 1890s, but still less fitted than those of the 1870s and 1880s. However, the ruffles suggest the early 1890s as does the lack of blouse-like fullness. Likely this portrait was drawn between 1893 and 1896, but possibly slightly later. The woman in this portrait appears to be much younger than Christiana Lantz Fox was when her portrait was drawn. 

Clint and Blanche's mother, Lydia Cronkhite Fox was born in 1861, making her in her 30s in the 1890s. It would make sense for Blanche to have a portrait of her mother. Lydia died in 1926 and I currently have only one photograph of her, probably taken not long before her death. Given the 20 or 30 year age difference between the two pictures and that the photograph was taken outdoors causing Lydia to squint her eyes, it if is difficult to prove a match. But nothing in this picture definitely rules out a match either. Otherwise, this mysterious woman may not be a member of the family at all and we have no idea how her portrait was acquired.

Portrait 3

For those who knew her, the first thought upon viewing this portrait has been that it portrays Blanche Fox Mang. This is certainly the face of an adolescent girl. With hair pulled back in a ribbon, but left in a pony tail rather than a bun, she is definitely under 18 years of age. The high neck, full sleeves, but lack of ruffles is common of the early 1900s. This clothing certainly predates 1908 when square or round dickey effects became common. Without seeing the waistline or how "blousey" the bodice is, it is difficult to date the portrait further. If this is indeed Blanche, who was born in 1890, it is completely possible this portrait was drawn between 1904 and 1907. The clothing could be placed earlier, but the apparent age of the subject supports the slightly later date range.

Irwin's wife, Ruth, had a habit of repurposing frames. So it was with chagrin, but not necessarily surprise, that my cousins also discovered Jonas Fox's portrait lying lose in the attic and torn from having been removed from a frame. It turns out at the time of her wedding, Karen was given a frame with a mirror in it which matches the frame of Christiana's portrait. The evidence speaks for itself.

For more about crayon portraits:
RootsWeb Pate-L Archives. Crayon Portraits - provides an easy-to-understand summary of the production process
Leyshon, William E. "Photographs From the 19th Century: A Process Identification Guide." 1984-2001. - More technical, but valuable given the limited information available about crayon portraits.

Thoughts on Copyright for Genealogists

A couple weeks ago I had the privilege speaking at the monthly meeting of the Lincoln Lancaster County Genealogical Society. While my topic was not copyright, toward the end of my presentation, a question about copyright was raised which I didn't have time to address. But it has prompted me to think more about the copyright issues faced by genealogists, both as owners and users of copyrighted material. Ultimately my contemplation brought me around to the question of what and how much genealogical information is actually copyrightable.

(Before you read any further, let me remind you that I'm a librarian, not a lawyer. My musings below are not legal advice and would not assist you in a court of law.)

It's important to understand what copyright actually protects and what works or information are copyrightable. There are three core requirements which must be met in order for something to be copyrightable. The work must be authored, original, and fixed. If any one of these three requirements is missing, the work is not copyrightable. In addition, copyright protects the expression of an idea rather than idea itself. In some cases, patents may protect ideas, but that is another set of laws.

Copyright law is codified in the United States Code Title 17. According to § 102 (b), copyright protection does not apply to ideas, procedures, processes, systems, methods of operation, concepts, principles, or discoveries. This provision is what enables multiple researchers to study, write, and publish on the same topic. In addition, in general, United States government publications are not copyrightable. And anything which has already entered the public domain cannot be copyrighted again, although derivatives of public domain material may be copyrighted.

So with these basic concepts in mind, what material in the possession of genealogists is actually copyrightable?

Great-grandma's oral history? If she only shared stories face-to-face and never recorded or wrote down those stories they are not yet copyrighted because they fail the fixed requirement. And if she did write them down or recorded them before 1978, but did not register the copyright, they still aren't copyrighted (more to come about the significance of this date). Now if I write down these stories as I recall her telling them to me, I own the copyright on my version of the story. But my cousin may remember the stories differently than I do, or Great-Grandma may have shared different details with her. My cousin could then write down these stories as she remembers hearing them, and copyright that version as well. Because Great-Grandma held no copyright of her stories, there is no legal intellectual property for an individual to inherit. My cousin and I can each own our versions of the story, and as long as each is deemed original enough (see discussion of the next question) we are not infringing on each other. Now if my copyrighted material is my cousin's source for her story, then she needs to be sure her use of my material meets the fair use principles (more later).

My family tree filled with names, dates, and places gleaned from public records? Not copyrightable. They are facts gleaned from the public domain. And as the plethora of nearly identical family trees posted on Ancestry.com demonstrate, just about anyone can duplicate the information without actually even viewing my tree. Family trees generally fail the originality requirement. However, if I publish a beautifully illustrated and artistic pedigree chart, my artwork is copyrightable although the factual content is not.

That family photo from 1893? It's in the public domain. Even digital copies of it are likely considered public domain because they do not meet the originality requirement. The philosophical foundation of copyright has changed over time. American copyright law was originally based on English common law which treated intellectual property as an economic commodity. Authors were given a short-term exclusive right to profit from their work. But in the United States, a large freely available body of work, the public domain, was believed to be essential to democracy. By contrast, in Europe (particularly in France and Germany) author's rights trumped the public domain. Author's rights are divided into economic and moral rights. Economic rights may be transferred and limited, but moral rights cannot be taken or given away. This allows European authors much more say over what happens to their works. In the United States, copyright terms have been extended many times starting with the original constitutionally mandated 14 years to author's life plus 70 years as of this writing. With these growing extensions of copyright terms, the United States is moving closer to the European model of author's rights.

So where does this leave the public domain? A complicated set of rules apply. On the whole anything published before 1923 is in the public domain. But for anything published from 1923 to the present, it is best to consult a very useful chart called When Works Pass Into the Public Domain. A patchwork of rules apply to varying circumstances makes it much more confusing to determine what works are still under copyright and which ones are now public domain. In general, it is best to assume that recent works are copyrighted. Current law provides copyright protection for new works whether or not they have been registered with the U.S. Copyright Office. But in other periods of time between 1922 and 1977, registration has been required in order to claim copyright. The above-referenced chart helps researchers sort through the confusion.

So how does a genealogist know when their work has been infringed upon or when they may be infringing on someone else? Authors, or more accurately, copyright owners have exclusive rights to reproduce, derive, distribute, perform, display, and transmit their works. However, the fair use doctrine of § 107 limits these exclusive rights. So users of copyrighted information may use portions of copyrighted works for criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, or research. But there are no hard and fast rules about what constitutes fair use. The law includes four factors which must be considered in any case, but generally fair use must be determined case by case. The four factors consider the character of the use, nature of the work, amount of the work copied, and economic impact.

So to wrap up, if you are concerned about copyright infringement:
1. Determine what part, if any, of the information concerned is truly copyrightable to begin with.
2. Then consider whether or not the use is fair.
3. If you are the copyright owner, it is strongly recommended that you register your published works with the U.S. Copyright Office. Beginning in 1978, this step is no longer required to be protected, but if you choose to pursue an infringer in court, or someone else accuses you of infringement, registration will aid your case.

The United States Copyright Office website provides many useful resources to help researchers understand copyright and register their own works.

Lincoln's Last Friend in Muskegon, Michigan

William Wallace Davey

Fact checking family traditions can be pretty simple, especially when they are related to well-documented events. Several family traditions surround the Civil War military service of my great-great-great-grandfather, William Wallace Davey (if you care to know, he is my father's father's mother's mother's father) the validity of which I've been curious about for some time. I recently took several hours to see what I could uncover.

Davey was born in Bellville, Richland County, Ohio on September 25, 1842, the third of eight children. But apparently my own grandfather, Alson Pusey, never took the time and effort to verify this information. Grandpa claimed that Davey was the youngest of three brothers who, when the Civil War started, all joined the Union army. According to Grandpa, Davey was under age so he lied about his age in order to join. However, checking birth and military records show that of all the brothers (there were four), William Wallace Davey was the eldest. And when he enlisted on May 2, 1864 in Company D of the 163rd Ohio Infantry Regiment, he was actually 21 years old. Not under age at all. He's also the only one of the brothers with a Civil War military record, although his father, George Davey served in the western theater with the 64th Regiment Ohio Infantry at the ripe old age of 51. Perhaps family lore confused George the father with William's younger brother Joseph George who would have been underage if he had attempted to join the army.

According to Helen Wollersheim, Davey was stationed in Washington, D.C. during the Civil War and became personally acquainted with Abraham Lincoln. Wollersheim claims, he often shared his memories of Lincoln's striking posture and determination to end slavery in the United States. When Davey died in 1921, his obituary in the Muskegon Chronicle (Michigan) also claimed he was the last "friend of Abraham Lincoln" in Muskegon County. In addition Wollersheim claims that Davey, when a soldier, slept on the floor of the Capitol building. These claims are difficult to substantiate, but seem highly unlikely.

Union troops were famously housed in the United States Capitol building for a short time in the spring of 1861 before adequate accommodations were constructed. As Davey did not enlist until three years later, and when the 163rd arrived in Washington, D.C. on May 13, 1865 they were assigned to Fort Reno, one of the many forts ringing the District of Columbia in order to protect that nation's capital, it is impossible to believe Davey ever slept in the Capitol building. The regiment stayed only until June 8, 1864 when at Grant's demand it was among the troops pulled from Washington's defense to join the army at Petersburg, Virginia.

During its little more than three months of service, the regiment saw duty in tidewater Virginia at White House, Bermuda Hundred, Point of Rocks (June 12), along the Petersburg and Richmond Railroad (where there was a skirmish on June 15), Wilson's Landing (June 16), and along the James River.

So could Davey have met Lincoln anywhere?

Not likely at Fort Reno. In July after the regiment had already left, Lincoln visited nearby Fort Stevens when Confederate troops came close to that fort. The alarm was raised first at Fort Reno when lookouts there discovered the Confederates approaching. But most of the action happened at Fort Stevens and that's where Lincoln went to watch. It's possible, but not likely, that Davey could have seen Lincoln in D.C. as they passed through or during any leave time soldiers were given. But there is no way to document this.

A more probable opportunity for Davey to have seen, but probably not met, Lincoln was during the president's June 20-23, 1864 visit to Grant in the James River area. During this visit Lincoln traveled from Grant's headquarters at City Point (Hopewell, Virginia) up the James River visiting fortifications at Bermuda Hundred and then Point of Rocks on the Appomattox River in the vicinity of today's Chester, Virginia. According to the regimental history, the 163rd was conducting reconnaissance along the west side of the James River during this time, although specific locations are not mentioned.

By the end of August 1864, the regiment returned to Camp Chase, Ohio and Davey, who had been transferred to Company K at some point, was mustered out on September 10.

David Stevenson in Civil War uniform.

Ironically, it is another great great-grandfather, David Stevenson (my father's mother's father's father) who is more likely to have encountered Abraham Lincoln in person. Stevenson enlisted in the 9th Regiment New York Heavy Artillery on January 26, 1863. Like Davey, Stevenson was also 21 years old. Originally named the 138th when the regiment formed at Auburn, New York on September 8, 1862, the 9th was renamed in December of that year while on garrison duty in Washington. The 9th helped build and garrison Forts Mansfield, Bayard, Gaines, and Foote. It was during this time that Stevenson would have joined the regiment. The regiment later saw action when it was called south in May 1864. What is more unusual though is that the regiment's lieutentant colonel and later full colonel was William H. Seward, Jr., son of the secretary of state. While garrisoned in Washington, D.C. the secretary of state is reported to have frequently visited the regiment, sometimes in the company of the president.



Sources:
Civil War Defenses of Washington
Lisa Saunders: New York 9th Heavy Artillery
163rd Regiment Ohio Volunteer Infantry
Soldiers and Sailors Database
U.S. Capitol Visitor Center: 1861-1865

Using DNA When Records and Documents are Missing

Although I've been interested in the contributions DNA testing has made to history and genealogy ever since DNA testing proved that Sally Hemmings' descendents were related to Thomas Jefferson, I didn't think it was something I'd ever do myself until last fall when I was contacted through Ancestry.com by someone else researching the Monheit family. That is because my family's relationship to the Monheits bears some similarity to the relationship between the Hemmings and the Jeffersons. Let me back up and share some of my great-grandmother's story. In this case truth may not be stranger than fiction, but certainly just as exciting.

My great-grandmother, Edith Mae Menges Morris was born on November 19, 1893, as family tradition says, in a tent near Enid, Oklahoma. For those who know their Great Plains history, this was about two months after the Cherokee Strip land rush, the last Oklahoma land rush. Edith's mother, Anna Maria Menges Aures, was a 36-year old divorcee and the mother of a baby boy who had died at one-month old, who apparently had an affair with a married man. No surprise she was looking for a place to start over. Family tradition says Anna Maria was accompanied by her best friend, Sarah Jane "Jennie" Bickel Wohlhieter. A family in Enid wanted to adopt Edith, but when Anna Maria wrote home to Indiana to ask her mother what she should do, her mother told her to bring the baby home. Thus, Edith grew up in Bristol, Indiana surrounded by aunts, uncles, and cousins. There is very little documentation supporting the story of Edith's birth and Anna Maria's brief stay in Oklahoma. It has been accepted because Edith believed everything her mother told her, and Edith's daughters and grandchildren have chosen to believe what she told them. (And if you think this story is wild, I haven't even introduced you to Edith's step-father, Fred Warner yet. But that will have to wait for a future post.)

At one point Edith attempted to obtain a copy of her birth certificate. Oklahoma authorities told her no birth certificates were recorded at the time of her birth because it was as yet an unorganized territory. Tradition says Anna Maria attempted to stake a claim, but her claim was jumped. No official records can be found through the Bureau of Land Management's database. However, a photocopy of a homestead application signed by Anna Maria Aures mysteriously turned up in my grandmother's collection of family papers. Since it is a photocopy, it has to be of modern vintage, but the location of the original remains unknown. Much of my grandmother's Menges genealogy was shared with her by her cousin Howard Menges, now deceased, so my assumption is that he turned this up somewhere. I wish I could ask him about it. And then there is Edith's marriage licence application, a legal document in which she names her birth father, David Monheit, and lists his occupation as "traveling salesman."

So with a story based on oral history, the idea of having scientific proof through DNA was intriguing, if seemingly unrealistic. The problem was finding a confirmed relative of Monheit's who was also willing to participate in a DNA test. So it was very exciting when a Monheit cousin made the first overture to me and both she and her brother had already participated in Ancestry.com's DNA database. With the encouragement of my friend Judi Cook, a volunteer with the Lincoln Lancaster County Genealogical Society who also answered my many questions about DNA testing, I took the plunge.

Awaiting the results was somewhat nerve wracking. I wanted it to prove my relationship to the Monheits, but what if it didn't? I needn't have worried. When the results came in, they showed a high confidence match with my contact and her brother (estimated at 5th-8th cousin and 4th-6th cousin respectively). Our actual relationship is 4th cousins once removed.

The only disappointing part of this story is that my Monheit cousins are actually more distantly related to David Solomon Monheit and know even less about him than my family does. From records we've gleaned tantalizing bits of information about Monheit which beg the fuller story. My great-grandmother's description of him as a "traveling salesman" appears to be accurate. Monheit shows up in newspapers in a number of locations from Ohio to Iowa to Texas advertising services as an optician or "spectacle maker." He was born in Tarnow, Poland in 1867 and immigrated to the United States around 1890 where he married Fanny Hennig in New York City in 1892. The newlyweds settled in Toledo, Ohio which remained Monheit's permanent residence. At the time of his affair with Anna Maria, Fanny was already pregnant with their son Phillip who was born in April of 1893, seven months before Edith. Apparently Anna Maria sent the Monheits a baby gift as my grandmother has a letter Monheit sent thanking her for the gift.

The most tantalizing part of the story though is two brief references in Iowa newspapers. In Kalona, Iowa in 1896 there is a notice which reads, "D.S. Monheit Vs. Fanny Monheit, divorce, default." Two years later a Waverly, Iowa newspaper reports that Monheit married a widow, Mrs. May Elizabeth Schlun née Blossom. But when Schlun died in 1930 she was buried as May E. Schlun. And Monheit continues to be listed has head of household in Toledo with his wife Fanny and son Phillip. Given these strange newspapers notices for Monheit in Iowa and the record of his extensive travel, one wonders if there are other unknown cousins somewhere. And what did his legitimate family know about his affairs?

Before readers start thinking too badly of Monheit, remember that Anna Maria's adult life included a lot of mistakes where men were concerned. She was beautiful and a flirt (according to her daughter), and by the time Monheit met her she was probably already a somewhat pathetic figure. As a widow, May Schlun may have been another hard luck case. Apparently Monheit was a rather warmhearted person who might have been quite sympathetic to tragic women.

My mother, aunt, and their cousins were just as interested in the results of my DNA test as I was myself. But when we shared the information with my grandmother, her response, with a shrug of the shoulder, was, "I already knew that." Utter confidence in her mother's story. But now with DNA evidence, more of this story can be passed to future generations with confidence and not fall into the realm of family mythology.

Surprising DNA

Let me start by saying I'm not an expert on DNA testing for genealogy. In fact, I've only recently started to get into this new world. This blog post represents my first attempt to really formalize my thoughts and communicate what I've learned from my test results.

I used Ancestry.com's autosomal DNA test. Autosomal chromosomes are those we inherit from both parents as opposed to mitochondrial DNA (mtDNA) which is passed down from mothers only and Y chromosome DNA (Y-DNA) which is passed down only from fathers to sons. Information provided by Y-DNA testing is limited to the direct paternal line and of course is only available for males. In a pedigree chart this is the upper most line. Information provided by mt-DNA testing is limited to the direct maternal line or the lowest line in a pedigree chart. By contrast, analysis of autosomal DNA provides a more complete picture of one's ancestry including ethnic estimates of all collateral ancestral lines. In addition, Ancestry.com DNA test participants are matched with likely relatives among other participants which is useful in extending a family tree and confirming relationships.

I've been collecting information about my family for nearly thirty years, so I thought I'd have a good idea of what my DNA results would look like. Turns out, I was completely surprised. Not so much by the ethnicities it revealed, but by the composition of those ethnic groups.

First of all, I expected my British and German ancestry to be in fairly equal proportion. My father's family is predominantly English and Scottish. We've always believed the German influence to be strong in my mother's family through both the Menges and Fox lines with the understanding that Fox is an anglicanization of Fuchs. And of course I knew that recent ancestors came from Sweden, Poland, and France. And more recently we had determined that my great-grandmother's birth father was most likely Jewish. So how do these expectations compare with reality?

According to Ancestry.com's estimate, it turns out I'm more British than I thought, much less German, and surprisingly much more Eastern European. Estimates are an average of forty separate analyses run for a region. In addition to the average, the probable range is also reported. The smaller the probable range the more accurate the estimate. So here's my summary:

Great Britain: 56% (36%-79%) - the typical native is 60%. Lines this blood probably came from include Pusey, Morris, Stevenson, Wood, Cornell, and others we have yet to learn more about such as Oliver, Hill, and Jarrett.
Europe East: 16% (7%-25%) - This was my biggest surprise as I was positive Europe West would be in second place. Lines this came from are likely mostly on my mother's side, but truly have yet to be identified other than Monheit and Gourski/Gureski.
Scandinavia: 8% (0%-22%) - As my Swedish ancestry, the Hanson line, is well documented this is no surprise.
European Jewish: 6% (3%-9%) - This was the next biggest surprise. Not the Jewish blood, but that the percentage came ahead of Europe West. Again this is the Monheit line.
Europe West: 5% (0%-18%) - Still shaking my head over this being so low. I honestly would not have been surprised if this region was my largest percentage, which makes it all the more intriguing that it comes last. Lines I expected to be in this group are Hoseit, Menges, and Culver. But now the question is whether these lines have eastern European origins.

In addition there were trace amounts of DNA from Ireland, Italy/Greece, Iberian Peninsula, Africa North, Caucasus, and Asia South. Trace amounts of DNA are considered much less reliable than the areas included in the full estimates. They are so small they may be an anomaly rather than part of one's ethnicity. However, having seen my great aunt's DNA estimates, her results also included trace amounts from some of these regions. And when you consider Rome's onetime occupation of Britain or the shared Celtic heritage in both Ireland and Britain it is not hard to imagine how some of these trace regions might have ended up in my DNA.

So what does this all mean? For one thing, Europeans are of just as much mixed blood as Americans. I used to think of Germans as full-blood Germans, French as full-blooded French, and so on. Studying DNA demonstrates that migration over centuries has mixed up DNA everywhere. For another, we have a lot more work to do on all of our supposedly German lines of ancestry. For example, Johann Adam Menges may have immigrated from western Germany, but where did his ancestors come from?

It would also be really interesting to have more family members participate in Ancestry.com's DNA testing and see what turns up because DNA does vary between family members. Close family members such as parents/children and siblings share about 50% of their DNA. Grandparent/grandchild share about 25%. First cousins typically share 12.5%. And the more distant the relationship, the less DNA is shared and the less confidence there is in the DNA analysis. Family Tree DNA provides a chart which shows the expected amount of DNA shared between family members of varying degrees.

In my next post I will talk about the Monheits and the reason I decided to have my DNA tested.

Soldier at Heart

A few weeks ago I, along with Union College Director of Public Relations Ryan Teller who came along to record the interview, had the very special privilege of visiting with 98-year Orason Lee Brinker. As a teenager attending Campion Academy in Colorado, Brinker had planned to continue his education at the United States Military Academy at West Point. But a conversation with Dr. Everett Dick during a Union College recruiting visit changed the course of Brinker's life.

At the time, Dick was a professor of American history. As a teenager himself during World War I, Dick had voluntarily enlisted in the U.S. Marine Corps. Although raised in a devout Adventist home, Dick was an uncommitted Christian. But as an adult he renewed his commitment to the church of his parents. From both his own experience and from the negative experiences of other Seventh-day Adventists during World War I, Dick realized that young Adventist men would have a challenging time in any future war. In the fall of 1933, Dick proposed a solution to Union College president Milian Lauritz Andreasen. Andreasen was attending the Autumn Council of the General Conference of Seventh-day Adventists where he received Dick's letter asking him to share an idea with the church's Young People's Department leaders. His idea was a pre-induction training program of military etiquette and medical first aid for young men of draft age. His idea was rejected by church leaders, but when Andreasen returned to College View, Nebraska, he encouraged Dick to start such a program at Union. The first class was held January 8, 1934. And it was about this time that Brinker met Dr. Dick.

During that conversation at Campion Academy, Dick shared with Brinker how difficult it would be to maintain his principles of not taking human life and honoring the sanctity of the Sabbath. Dick convinced Brinker to attend Union College where he quickly became an officer in the newly formed Union College Medical Corps, renamed Medical Cadet Corps (MCC) in 1939 when the program was finally adopted by the denomination. For the next twenty-four years Brinker worked with the MCC first at Union College, and then in the Pacific Northwest starting the program at Walla Walla College. During the summers he also worked at Camp Desmond T. Doss in Grand Ledge, Michigan. Brinker was acquainted with all of the major figures of both the MCC and the Servicemen's Organization (forerunner of the Adventist Chaplaincy Ministry) including not only Everett Dick, but also Carlyle B. Haynes, George Chambers, Clark Smith, Desmond Doss, and many others. 

I was hoping Brinker would be able to tell us about specific experiences and give us details about the people he knew, but not many of those memories surfaced during our interview. He much more readily remembered his opinions about individuals which ranged from deep admiration and respect to complete disgust. Several things were very clear though. Brinker was passionate about the role he played in the MCC during World War II, deeply loyal to the United States, and proud of his family's history of military service, a tradition he firmly feels he followed during his MCC days. Brinker may have played a civilian role during World War II, but he was a soldier at heart.

Conducting this interview required overcoming many challenges. Funding, scheduling, and traveling were the first hurdles. Then once the interview was scheduled, we had to hope for two good days with Brinker. While his mind was sharp and even witty, his memory was not as clear. But the biggest obstacle proved to be his hearing. To ensure a good recording, we tried these tips:

1. Plan multiple interview sessions. Given the constraints of our schedules, we were able to meet with Brinker twice for about three and a half hours each time. The first session was in the afternoon, the second session was the following morning.

2. Write questions on paper. This allowed Brinker to read the questions instead of trying to hear what I was asking which was a frustrating exercise for both of us.

3. Let the interviewee wander. Asking open ended questions allowed Brinker to take the conversation where he wanted to go. This might not have answered the questions I was hoping for, but it did allow us to record what he remembered, what was important to him, and reduced frustration on his part. From my perspective it revealed new and interesting information for which I never would have asked.
4. Be patient with repeated telling of a story. Sometimes repetition was just repetition. But sometimes repetition revealed new details.

5. Look through artifacts together. While we hoped this would stimulate some memories (which I still believe it can) it didn't work so well this time. Still we were able to view some original documents and photographs which were very interesting. When recording family history this is a very important strategy for passing information on to a new generation.
7. Check facts using reliable records. No one has a perfect memory all of the time. Memories are very good for learning about subjective information like thoughts, feelings, opinions, and significance. But for facts, memories need to be backed up with documentation if it is available.

6. Keep the camera rolling. A story or valuable information can pop up any time during a conversation. Don't turn off the video camera or voice recorder too soon. And don't worry about long silent segments. They can be edited out later.
 

Orason Lee Brinker with the author. Photo by Ryan Teller.

Census Omisions

My research on Gus Youngberg (see January 24, 2015 post) went a little deeper this past week when I discovered that golden cords were hung for both his brother, Alfred, and sister, Ruth. According to his wife Norma, these three siblings left home at an early age and supported each other through their teen years and into college. They all attended Union College at the same time, graduating in 1915. As I searched Ancestry.com looking for documents to support Norma's version of the story, I made an interesting observation regarding Gus. While there are plenty of ships's lists and travel records documenting his journeys, he shows up in only one United States census, 1900, when he was twelve years old and he is listed in his father's (Stephen or Steven) household.

So what does this mean? Well fortunately, Norma chose to publish his life story, so we can form a pretty good idea of why he was left out of so many censuses. First of all, Gus was born in 1888. This means the 1890 census would have been the first national census taken during his lifetime. To the great disappointment of genealogists and historians, much of the 1890 census was destroyed through an unfortunate chain of events (read Kellee Blake's "'First in the Path of the Firemen': the  Fate of the 1890 Population Census" to learn the full story) so when you can't find an individual in the records that remain, it isn't much of a surprise.

As already noted, the siblings were enumerated as part of their father's household in 1900. They also appear as part of their father's household in the 1905 Minnesota state census. Thereafter both Gus and his father disappear from the United States census.

The next step is to look for alternative records. Norma's narrative provides clues as to where Gus, Alfred, and Ruth lived, but frustratingly does not include many dates. In 1910, Gus would be about 22 years old and, according to Norma, living with Alfred and Ruth, apparently renting rooms from other people as they supported each other through high school and several years at a Protestant theological college in St. Paul, Minnesota and Minnesota State University. In my research of other families I have come across dual residences for young adult children where they were counted twice, once in their father's home and once in the household where they were boarding. In the case of the Youngberg siblings, they seem to have fallen through a large crack in the 1910 census. Perhaps compounded by their father's move to Canada. This may or may not have been a factor as he most likely moved to Canada about 1920. But certainly lacking true households of their own led to their omission from the census.

By 1920, Gus was married and headed to the mission field with his wife Norma and daughter Ruth. His commitment to his ministry most certainly led to his omission from the 1920, 1930, and 1940 censuses. The family returned for furloughs in 1926, 1934, and 1940. Their July of 1940 arrival just missed the census taken that June.

In contrast, Alfred and Ruth were omitted from only the 1910 census. Alfred and his family spent only seven years in India in the 1920s. Ruth lived in Bolivia and Chile with her husband Theodore Lewis Oswald who served as a minister and administrator from about 1921 to 1930.

Analyzing Gus Youngberg's appearance, or lack thereof, in the United States census records has helped me understand some of the reasons I've been unable to find other people in these records. Fortunately for the Youngberg story, alternative records are plentiful. Unfortunately, for some of my other mystery people, I have yet to discover what prevented them from being counted.

For additional creative ideas for locating unfindable people in the census records, see "Census Search Tips" by Juliana Smith.

Making Connections

I love my job. It's full of variety and interesting challenges. But often the tedium of technical writing, problem-solving, stretching my department's funds, and the stress of navigating interpersonal relationships in order to accomplish a common goal leave me wiped out by the end of the day. So it was with a certain level of surprise Wednesday evening that I realized I was bouncing around the house with plenty of energy after a day of work and my kids were in bed. I had to stop and ask myself, "What made the difference today?" My answer? Simply that I had spent the entire day researching an interesting family and making connections between pieces of information I had read or collected over the past twelve years. Just the sort of work I love best.

It all started with a project to learn some of the stories of the people honored with Union College's golden cords. The golden cords are a tradition dating back to 1906. Over the years many devices have served to hold the cords, all with a centerpiece representing Union College in some form with a world map of some type spreading out to either side and gold string or thread stretched between "Union College" and the countries where the college's alumni have or are serving  internationally. While new golden cords continue to be hung each year, over a century after the first cords were hung few people know or remember the early honorees. At Union there are currently three of us very interested in uncovering these stories and making them public. My current effort is creating an exhibit which will be installed in time for our new president's inauguration on March 5.

So I was just beginning the job of deciding which stories to include when our alumni director emailed me, asking to me check Ancestry.com to verify a name in her database, Margaret Bresee Reed. What followed was domino-effect. I quickly learned that Margaret was the second wife of Floyd Edgar Bresee. The two served together in Peru in the 1920s and 1930s. But what I also learned was that Floyd's first wife was Ruth Rhoads who died of influenza in February 1920. That triggered a memory from this past summer when a visiting researcher introduced me to Mildred Rhoads Bennett, Ruth's youngest sister and a founder of Willa Cather studies and the Willa Cather Pioneer Memorial and Educational Foundation. At the time I had picked up Mildred's autobiography, The Winter is Past, and discovered that Floyd was her brother-in-law. Now Floyd's real claim to fame is in his role as the first Seventh-day Adventist chaplain in the United States Army to be sanctioned by the church's General Conference. I have been aware of this part of his history for several years from reading Robert Mole's God Also Loves Military People,which includes Floyd's biography.

In the process of reviewing Mildred's book to refresh my memory of what she had to say about her brother-in-law, I discovered that her other two sisters also served as missionaries with their husbands and also have golden cords hung for them. Norma was the oldest sister. She married Gustavus Benson Youngberg, better known as Gus, who died in Borneo in 1944 as a result of time he spent in a Japanese POW camp. Norma went on to write many Adventist mission stories well-familiar to many long-time Adventists. Her books continue to be reprinted. Ruth was the second sister and died young as I've already noted. The third sister, Belle, married Gerald H. Minchin who would himself die while still serving internationally (And for those of you familiar with another well-known Adventist author, Dorothy Minchin-Comm, these are her parents). But not before he and his sister-in-law Norma co-authored Under Sealed Orders: The Story of Gus Youngberg.

So after learning something notable about each sister in the family, I wondered about their one brother to survive childhood, James. Another brother, John, died as a young child. I haven't uncovered anything about James himself, as I was leafing through files yesterday in the Heritage Room in search of something entirely different, I came across a file I had forgotten about. It was labeled "James Berton Rhoads (alumnus)" and immediately caught my attention. Sometime about ten or eleven years ago in organizing boxes of miscellaneous stuff left by my predecessor, I put these documents related to Berton (the name he appears to use) together in this folder, labeled it, put it in my biographical file, and forgotten about it. It turns out that Berton is the son of James, nephew of the Rhoads sisters, and he was Archivist of the United States from 1968 until 1979. He attended Union College 1947-1948, but completed his bachelors and masters degrees at the University of California Berkeley. His career at the National Archives began in 1952.

In all of the excitement of connecting the various pieces of this talented and illustrious family's story, I have yet to discover what happened to Margaret, the question that started it all. But I now have the stories behind three of Union's golden cords. And a great lesson in the value of reading and collecting information widely. You never know when or how all of the pieces may come together.