Tombstone Tuesday - I Spotted the Name on the Stone, But Not the Damage

Why would anyone want to damage a beautiful tombstone? Is it for fun? Or was it for the value of the metal? What ever the motive, it wasn't a pleasant feeling when I visited the gravesite of great great aunt Sarah A. (Fowler) KROESCHELL at Graceland Cemetery in Chicago, Illinois. I was so pleased with myself when I spotted the Kroeschell family plot. I was excited that it was in one of the best known cemeteries in Chicago if not the country. Many famous Chicagoans are interred here. Bob and I weren't expecting to find the plot to be in such condition. This is a very expensive and grand family plot marker.

Looks like the vandals stripped off a wreath and maybe a plaque or possibly an angel. Maybe below the wreath there was an urn. Who could tell. Will we ever know? I hope someone who has a picture of the stone -- before the vandalism -- reads this and shares it with me.

My great great aunt Sarah was born to Luther and Lydia FOWLER, 22 Oct 1845 in Mexico, New York State. Sarah died in Chicago, 12 Dec 1906. The 1870 Federal Census in Allegan, Michigan shows she "Sells Sewing Machines." I think I have one of those machines. It was handed down to me by my aunt Florence with the story "this was my mother's and all the girls learned how to sew on it." The sewing machine is a Singer treadle, and it should still work although it needs a good clean-up and oiling.

She married Charles Kroeschell in 1875, Allegan, Michigan. From there they moved to Chicago where Charles started a business.  

Charles was born 22 May 1848 in Nashville, Tennessee and died 29 Jan 1928 in Chicago. He was a "boilermaker" and was one of the Kroeschell Brothers boilermakers (gold circle below). He was in the same business as great grandfather August Ferdinand BUSCHICK (red circle below). Sarah's sister Susan was married to A.F. Buschick!

Chicago Tribune 1882 "Chicago Business Directory."

The Chair

My mom and dad retired sometime after March 1969; they moved from a large Victorian house in Mundelein, Illinois up to Pella, Wisconsin -- oh, maybe a population of 100. Of course the house they were moving into was a modest two-bedroom cottage overlooking the Embarrass River. It was a beautiful spot and a nice comfortable little house, but not quite big enough for all their furniture.

They gave away a goodly amount of their furniture to us children, then to relatives, then to friends who picked out what they would like. What was left, I guess, went onto a burning pile. My husband and I hauled my collection of family pieces out of the house as did my siblings with theirs. To me it didn't matter who got the "family" pieces as long as they were still in the family.

My half brother who moved to Montana (later on), received a beautiful chair as one of his pieces. It was one that mom had when Harvey was growing up. I remember the chair always sat next to a beautiful hand-carved table with a Tiffany-style lamp; mom called it her "butterfly" table because the top's grain looked like a butterfly stretching its wings. I really think it was because the slap of wood was cut and butterflied next to one another giving it the "mirror" image side-by-side. Anyway, Harvey has had the chair since the '70s.

(Left) The Pella house overlooking the Embarrass River in Wisconsin. (Right) Dad playing "horsey" with his three-year-old granddaughter. The butterfly table and the chair in background.

Recently Harvey and my sister-in-law were moving to a smaller place and it seemed to be time for them to give some up of their furniture. That's where the chair comes in. Since he knew I always loved the chair, Harvey thought I would like to have it. Brother John was out there to pick some stuff up to bring back to Illinois and Harvey asked him to take the chair to me.

I knew nothing about the chair coming back to Illinois, let alone to my house! When brother John got home from his trip, I got a phone call thinking he would just be telling me about his trip. What a surprise I had when he said Harvey wanted me to have the chair and when did I want to pick it up!

I have to admit, I was a little choked up to hear this. What a wonderful surprise. Sure made my day! I had always liked that chair. It is a cherished piece of furniture and it was one of Mom's favorites.

The chair is in my living room waiting for the perfect spot to reside. As you can see in this picture, it is hand carved and very beautiful. I wish the table were with it, but mom and dad took the table and lamp to Pella with them and a couple years after they settled in there, there was a house fire which totally destroyed the house and all that was in it. 

This chair has a particular maker, but I have no clue by who. I can't find a mark anywhere  The person who reupholstered it told my brother, but he can't recall what the guy said. 

I'm not sure when it will be my turn to give it to one of my children. I don't want to think about it, I just love looking at the chair. For as long as I have it in my care, I'll cherish it.

Searching For Luther in Allegan, Michigan

Last week, I started this story in great hopes the questions were answered. I was very curious what land g-g-grandfather Luther Fowler owned when living in Allegan, Michigan, but the more I looked at the latest "gatherings" (from a short trip the middle of June) the longer it took to write this posting. What I thought I saw, I didn't. What I thought I proved, I didn't. So for the last few days I've been doing more "looking" at –– studying –– the deeds and city map. I'm not there yet, but getting close.

DECIDING TO GO TO ALLEGAN
Call me superstitious, but if I plan too far ahead to go on a genealogical trip to a town or a cemetery, it's always surely to be either too hot, too cold, too windy, to stormy; the weatherman knows how to curtail my trips. This time I fooled him -- did it before the weatherman had a chance to blink! I pretended to want the trip a week later than I actually picked! This must have worked because the forcast was for perfect weather the next week -- my week -- and we only wanted the first three days of it! I'm sure the genealogical gods had something to do with it, too...

Before I told Bob, I checked the calendar and blocked out three days. I called the hotel in Plainwell and made reservations asking if they allowed dogs -- yes -- good. Then I got the idea of boarding Abby at a kennel up in that area. That worked out great, the price was the same per day as was the hotel's. So why not? Then both Bob and I would be free to do and go where we wanted and Abby could have some friends to play with. Quickly I put together a list of a few things I needed to get at the Allegan county courthouse, Allegan city hall, and library. A couple days later we were on the road with the doggie. We left our cats with enough food and water for four days and an extra kitty litter pan. We were in the car and out of town by nine in the morning! Weatherman had no clue we were gone!

I had less than three days to "hunt and gather" information on Luther. Not only will I verify previously gathered information with documentation, but I'll seek some new information, too. I want to get pictures of the town and land Luther owned, too.

I've written about Luther before in Proving a connection to Luther posted July 8, 2012 and then Finally! The Connection – Luther son of Abel Fowler posted May 6, 2013.


Little by little I have been putting his life in Allegan into context -- "fleshing out the bones." There are a few questions likely never to be answered like: when did his first wife Lydia die and where is she buried, when and where did he marry Hannah whose maiden name I'd also like to know, but that's not what I was up there for. I was looking for information mainly on the land he owned.

MONDAY - ON OUR WAY!
After an uneventful and rather pleasant drive up to Allegan, we dropped the doggie off at the kennel then stopped at City Hall. It's a beautiful building tucked into a row of older buildings on Locust St. -- the main drag. I asked a few questions and all led to the court house. I'd come back before we leave to look through the burials book for Oakwood cemetery (a city cemetery) when I had a little more time. The courthouse was about to close so we went back the next day. That worked out good since we had to check into the hotel and find a place to eat dinner.

City Hall tucked between two older buildings in
the middle of the block on Locust St.

Allegan is the county seat. It's a quaint town about in the middle of Allegan County on Highway 89 between Plainwell and Holland, Michigan; about an hour southwest of Grand Rapids. The downtown area had a major fire around 1884; the buildings were torn down and rebuilt on the intact foundations. One building on the block was dated -- 1884 -- on the front. The Kalamazoo River winds through the town and at 2nd St. there is a one-lane iron bridge. There's a section of buildings which were for manufacturing, milling, furniture, and various other company businesses; some are still in operation. Some of the empty buildings are now being used as an art gallery or lofts. There is redevelopment going on which is nice to see. Allegan is a beautiful place with a board walk winding with the river through the town.

Bob and I walked around the downtown area visiting stores, buildings I know my great grandmother must have entered at one time or another. One store we went into was an old-fashioned dime store with toys, fabric, lamp shades, cards and stationery with school supplies, small appliances and kitchen wares. They even had the rack of plastic table cloth sold by the inch! That was nice to see. We need more stores like that. I bought a plastic covered pitcher perfect size for my orange juice and to fit into my refrigerator's door shelve.

Main street - Locust St. - The City Hall is located on the right of the stop signs. We ate lunch at the Downtown Bakery & Deli a couple doors down from the city hall. At the end of the block you can see a gray round-roof turret...that has a nice restaurant where everyone knows everyone...we had a wonderful lunch there also -- $2 hamburger that was not a franchise one. Bob and I went for coffee or lunch at various places in the town. The people, food, and scenery are very nice.

The townspeople are friendly even though we were "strangers." As we were to our car, a man stopped us and started talking..."I'm so glad to see someone from Illinois!" he said, "Where ya from?" We told him and he got all excited. He used to live not too far south in Chicago and used to work a few blocks east of us. I guess he was homesick; he said his wife was the one who wanted to move up there.

Bob and I decided to stop at the grocery store for carry-out dinner so we could come back to our room to watch the third game of the Stanley Cup finals between the Chicago Blackhawks (my boys) and Boston Bruins. Hawks didn't have a good night. 

TUESDAY - DEEDS AND DIGITAL IMAGES

The courthouse is just another square, light colored brick building with security at the door checking bags, purses, pockets and asking questions about weapons and alcohol...and just like at the airport, I had to walk through a detector (not the body scanner!). I did pass quietly and thanked them. The only thing I carried that shoots was my camera.

I visited the Vital Records office and was able to go into the back room to look through the marriage and death indexes and record books. That was nice because I would be able to not only get digital images of the M & Ds to verify names and dates I already had, but I hoped I would find some I didn't know about, too. There was one marriage -- my g-g-aunt Sarah Fowler who lived in Chicago, but came back home to get married in Allegan, and I thought they were married in Chicago. That was nice surprise. I also got a certified copy of my great grandmother's death record. That was nice, too. I didn't find g-g-grandmother Lydia's death date or her burial information; nor did I find Luther's second marriage record. Maybe he and Hannah married in Chicago.

Across the hall was the land records office. I was thrilled when I got copies of some deeds. I was even more thrilled that I remembered to bring my list with the Libre numbers and pages of the ones I wanted! I have most of my genealogical information in the "cloud" but sometimes it is nice to have that paper. I'm still a little old fashioned that way...I'm not quite paperless, yet!

Other side of the street was the library. A very helpful genealogy savvy librarian brought out many items for me to look through. One item was a 1877 directory showing Luther was in residence at 9 Wilbur St. and was a cabinet maker. I took digital images of the directory and an old city plat map for home reference. 

1877 Allegan Village Directory, page 54

Partial of the Allegan city plat map. I don't know how old it is.

The table was stacked with reference books, history books, directories, and map books which we plowed through; we looked at the city map for particular pieces of property listed in those deeds; I wanted to go to the locations to take pictures. One of the first deeds I looked at was this one from 1869. Lots 43 and 44 were most visible.

Elizabeth Booth Et al, to Luther Fowler > Received for Record, May 5th A.D> 1869, at 1 o'clock....

This Indenture, Made this Fifth day of May in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and Sisty Nine BETWEEN Elizabeth Booth Widow & Diane M Booth and Laura Broun Sisters all of Allegan Mich the Sole and only heirs at Law of the Late Henry H Booth Deceased of the firt part, and Luther Fowler of the same place of the second part....three hundred Dollars....Allegan Village Lots Numbered on the Recorded plat of said Village of Allegan forty three (43) & Forty four (44) Being on Section Twenty Eight [??] North Range & thirteen West.....

The librarian and I searched the plat map and deduced where the two parcels of land were at the corners of Pine and Cutler Streets. She made a paper copy for me and after more rummaging through a few more books and catalogs Bob and I set out to find the property called Lots 43 & 44. We met the owners of the brown house Karen and Doug, Bob and I had a nice talk about the house's history and the area. Karen made a copy of a picture she had of the house taken very early 1900s. I let her make copies of my deeds. I took pictures of the house. Karen is also into genealogy and understood why we stopped.

Houses located on Lots 43 & 44 at the corner of Pine and Cutler Streets. The brown house has several additions to it, but the owners told us the 

front part was the oldest being from about 1850. The out buildings aren't there, 

but we were told the barn and outhouse would have been on the back of the lots. 

The white house would have had the barn and probably the front 

could have been used as garden or pasture. 

This all seems so cut and dried. We have the deed and we have the plat map and we have images of the two lots, one with a house that was fairly new around 1850. Well, by the time I got home and started to look at all these again, I realized there were several sections of that Allegan map where 43 & 44 were located. ARRGGHH! You'd think the librarian and I jumped to conclusions...but did we? These lots pictured are correct. They are in the "Original Town" area written on the map. Yet, it's not conclusive Luther ever lived there. Just one more question I must ask in a letter to the county land records.

I knew from the directory, Luther was living at 9 Wilbur St. in 1877. Why I didn't see Wilbur St. (on the map above) while I was up there I will never know. I did notice it a few days ago as I revisited the deeds and maps for this post. But that's not all I saw a little while later when I was reading another deed dated 1883. 

This deed below is between Luther Fowler and A. F. [August Ferdinand] Buschick, both of Chicago in 1883. The transaction was for two hundred dollars. The description of the property is: Village Lot number Seventy eight (78) Davis Addition to the Village of Allegan according to the recorded plat of said... At first I thought the property was located near the courthouse on Hubbard St., but that parcel looks like it belongs to the Episcopal Church. I looked at the map again and that is when I found Wilbur St. and Lot 78 in DAVIS ADD.

I'm sure I have the correct lot 78 and the street location. I don't know if lot 78 is "9" Wilbur St. though. One of the people I had talked to over the three days mentioned street names had changed, but she couldn't tell me when; Wilbur St. did change and now is Park Dr. on a modern city map. So for now, I would say this is most probably where Luther lived in 1877 as a cabinet maker. Google Maps hasn't photographed it yet. I guess I will have to make another trip up there to get images of this piece of property and maybe some more questions answered...my wish list is growing! 

On our way back to the hotel, we stopped at a roadside stand where fresh-picked strawberries were for sale! Oh, were they good!

WEDNESDAY - THE CEMETERY
I had images of the cemetery from a couple years ago. They were taken by someone else. Well, there's no better feeling to a family historian than to visit the gravesite to get a "feel" for the area and say a prayer for those buried there. I also wanted to take my own pictures in Oakwood Cemetery of the plot of 12 graves where my great grandmother Susan was buried. This I did succeed in doing, but I'm still at a loss for information on #1 (owner), 3, 7, 9, 10, and 11. How is N. Abrams connected to my family? I've never heard of him.

There are only four headstones in this plot of 12. Susan (Fowler) Buschick is #2. The cemetery card I have lists the occupants in all 12 graves, but only names for nine. There are three rows of four graves. The numbers showing above the circles gives you a visual of the plot map.

Susan A. Buschick, 

Mar. 25, 1841, 

Aug. 28 1915, 

MOTHER

Susan A. Buschick -- daughter of Luther Fowler

my great grandmother

Wordless Wednesday - Wow are you tall!

Sentimental Sunday: Popcorn, a Mouse, My Dad, and Ice Hockey

I'm a Chicago Blackhawks hockey team fan. Last night I was watching game five against the Los Angeles Kings. The Hawks eliminated the Kings from the Stanley Cup finals in double overtime. A lucky charm -- my tuxedo cat Jefferson -- was laying on the back of my chair; my husband showed up periodically to watch bits of the game; I was eating popcorn while watching the almost four-hour, roller-coaster game.

Eating popcorn and watching the game is tradition, it seems so natural to me -- I've been doing it now for almost 60 years! The only difference between mid-1950s and now? Well, now I microwave popcorn, I have a cat on the back of my chair, a husband who isn't a hockey fan, and there's no mouse! 

This got me to thinking. I know, that can be dangerous, but in this case it was a sentimental thought of times past. Memories, this blog is not just for genealogical research.

OH, THOSE OLD TVs

Besides watching "Howdy Doody Show" or Ed Sullivan's "Toast of the Town" back then, I remember watching the Blackhawks hockey games with my dad who was an avid sports fan. It was a simpler time sitting on the couch waiting for the television's tubes to warm up. There was no remote to get lost in the couch. We had to get up from our seat and walk across the room to change channels by turning a "dial" or slap the side of the tv box to stop the screen's "snow." This was not the HD tv we know today!

BEFORE THE GAME
Getting ready for the hockey game, dad would pop corn the old-fashioned way -- on the stove. He used an old stock pot with a lid that didn't fit tight because of all the dents. This made for a few laughs because some of the kernels would pop out onto the floor. Sometimes dad would forget to put the lid on right away and we had kernels escaping like a volcanic eruption, onto the stove and the floor -- much to the displeasure of my mom, but a grand time for me! This seemed to also satisfy our ever-hungry doggie whose keen sniffer tracked down every kernel.

White popping corn -- popped in lard or butter, add some salt, no butter added please.... 
With bowls of popcorn in hand, dad and I climbed upstairs to where the tv was in our old, old house. Our television stood near my mom's bedroom door. We had a tv similar to the small stand-alone in the picture above. Our couch was across the room maybe 7 feet from the tv -- you just didn't sit close. Mom's bedside lamp was usually on when we came up at game time; she would be reading in bed. When the game finally got to her, mom's bedroom door would get closed, but we could still see under the door that her light was still on and probably still reading; she didn't like hockey games.

Mom would insist I go to bed early especially when there was school the next day. Dad would defend my staying up to watch the game. We usually stalled the inevitable. He knew mom would be sleeping soon and never know what time I really went to bed. So we would just keep watching the game and eating popcorn.

I really enjoyed learning about the game from my dad; I watched Bobby Hull play as a rookie. Even now when I see some nostalgic images of the young rookie, I can hear my dad explain why Bobby used a slap shot and how effective it was. I can still see the "Golden Jet" race up the ice then shoot a defenseless goalie. I remember the goalies not wearing masks -- how daring they were. No one wore helmets either. Quite a change from the equipment players wear now. Those were good times.

THIS WAS BEST TIME
All that game bonding was great, but the best thing about those times together in front of the "tube" was when dad would tell me to stay quiet and not make any noises or sudden moves. Then he would throw a kernel towards the TV; he was smiling all the time he did it. Eventually a little gray mouse with a cute pinky nose would come out from behind the tv, look right at me and scamper towards the kernels, one by one he would grab one and dash back behind the television until he cleared any evidence of dad's indiscretion.

Time and again, that little mouse would come back and sit at the back corner of the tv and wait until a kernel was thrown to him. He and dad seemed to be old friends. He wasn't afraid to venture out a little ways to grab it either. After all, this was a game for the both of them!

Dad would give a little snicker. There was a twinkle in his eye as he put his finger to his mouth, "shhhh...don't say a thing to your mother!" And he'd toss another kernel across the room. This would go on for quite a while. It was really fun to watch, almost more than the hockey game. I didn't want to go to bed either!

I'm not sure what mom would have done if she knew what dad was doing with the mouse. Mom did get sort of a kick out of the story when she heard me tell it some 20 years later.

I find it fascinating how the smallest thing can spark such a crazy memory. .

Why didn't I see it the first time?

Why is it when you are rummaging through documents, newspapers, images, and various other items collecting information to add to particular family member stories, you never quite catch every detail until some time later -- maybe even years later?

In just the past week, I answered a couple questions about my mom's sister Florence's interment and her ROWLEY family's final resting place. 

HERE'S HOW IT HAPPENED
One day last week, Bob mentioned we had a soon-to-expire Groupon for a German bakery & cafe situated on the north side of Chicago, east of the river on Montrose Ave. We decided to have lunch at the bakery's little cafe. Bob never suspected my real mission for going was to visit a cemetery, not to eat at a bakery!

At lunch, I mentioned to Bob there was a cemetery near there I would like to stop at -- since we are here already... (you know how that goes). I got out my iPhone to check on where Montrose Cemetery was and to refresh my memory on whose grave it was I'm looking for, but I couldn't find any mention of it in the phone. I even checked my genie program app, but without information, we couldn't go there -- much to my dismay and my husband's relief...we decided to just go home.

As we left the bakery with our last-minute purchases from the bakery counter (you know how that goes...those smells of fresh baked breads...!) and headed for the car, I felt a little disappointed. Knowing we won't be going to that nearby cemetery, Bob had somewhat of a light step back to the car. He was reveling at the thought he didn't have to go to yet another cemetery to watch his wife traipse around looking for and snapping pictures of headstones. He wouldn't be dragged into the search either! Besides, it looked like rain!

[I never let the weatherman know ahead of time if I'm planning a cemetery visit because invariably the weather turns for the worse and there are 50-mph winds, blinding snow or rain; or the sun is so hot you were wishing the headstones were under some shade near a water fountain! I've been drenched or sun-poached more than I care to mention. So mums the word -- catch him off guard!]

Driving a few blocks west, then turning south towards Irving Park Rd., we came to a red light; my thoughts turned to Acacia Park Cemetery! After all we weren't that far from it anyway and the weatherman was holding any rain at bay. Can't go home without satisfying me with a cemetery fix!

I've been looking for my aunt Flo's final resting place a long time now. All along, I suspected the ROWLEY family graves would be there because my she was a BUSCHICK and her parents and a couple siblings are there, too. It just seemed probable. This was a long shot worth taking. I was hoping the genealogy gods were working on this, too.

I waltzed into the office, very confident of my suspicions and came out not at all disappointed. What luck I had. I guess the genealogy gods were looking down at me at lunch when I couldn't find any mention of that other cemetery. This is why they suddenly sent me here. In Acacia Park Cemetery, not only was my aunt Florence and uncle Lyman there (Section: Tecoma; Lot SW 11; Block 5; Graves: 2 and 3), but so was their son Lyman Jr. and his wife Betty (Grave 1). All had similar headstones lined up, side-by-side near the lane. Very easy to find. I also noticed other similar headstones in line, to the left of my aunt and uncle...sure enough there were more Rowley family...uncle Lyman's mother and father and possibly siblings, too. Then the heavens opened up and it rained hard for about five minutes just as I had my camera out and was snapping pictures. Oh well, I guess the gods can't control the weatherman...

For several years now I have been asking cousins what cemetery they were in, but no one seemed to know or weren't willing to divulge...what ever. Doesn't matter now. So I do feel a sense of accomplishment in finally locating the graves -- with a little help, that is!

I ENTERED THE IMAGES INTO FINDAGRAVE.COM

Next to our car are the ROWLEY graves with similar headstones with a bowed face.
Starting from right [not the flat faced stone] is:
Grave 1: Lyman Jr. & "Betty"; Florence B. Grave: 2 [should be Florence L.]; Lyman Sr. Grave: 3.

As soon as I got home, I downloaded the headstone images to my computer, cropped them, and uploaded them to Findagrave.com. 

Mother
Florence B. Rowley
1896 - Eastern Star symbol - 1987
Find A Grave Memorial #111336732 

Father
Lyman C. Rowley
1893 - Mason symbol - 1975
Find A Grave Memorial #111336834 

Lyman C. Rowley, Jr.
1920 Husband 2001
Elizabeth C. Rowley
1924 Wife 1988
Find A Grave Memorials: #111336920 and  #111336976

I also uploaded Lyman Sr.'s parents' headstone images. The next day I received an email from a Rowley descendant and researcher. We exchanged emails and had a nice conversation. He filled me in on the Rowley's in Iowa and Lyman Sr.'s grandfather the first Lyman. Since the Rowleys are "married" into my Buschick family, I'm not sure how much I want to research collateral lines. I do appreciate receiving information, but have to hold back on pursuing any other than my direct lines. I promised my contact I would go back and get images of the Rowley headstones I skipped.

I have been a contributor to Find a Grave for several years and have uploaded many images with some details and obits. I have made several contacts with distant cousins from various families I research over these past few years. Findagrave.com is a great website containing thousands of headstone and cemetery images. Genealogists all over the world search or contribute to this site.

UPDATED INFORMATION TO MY TREE PROGRAM
I was updating all I collected on the Rowley family that day into "Reunion" when I noticed I had an obituary entered for my cousin Lyman C., Jr. Lymie passed away over 10 years ago. Funny, I don't remember much about entering it. I'm sure I read it before -- I'm the one who typed it! I do remember a little about him being in the Army during WWII. So, I read the obit again. After all it's only been a few days since Memorial Day and it is nice to reflect on those who served. 

His military accomplishments are quite impressive, especially for being a "combat medic" in one of the worst battles of the European theater. All I ever knew about him in the military was what my aunt Florence always said to us kids who were curious about WWII, "Do not ask him about the Battle of the Bulge." So it was quite a surprise to learn all this about cousin Lyman who was always pleasant to be around, always in good humor, and seemed to not have a care in the world.

He served in the U.S. Army, 7th Corps., 294th Engineer Combat Division, and Medical Detachment during World War II as a Combat Medic. He participated in the Normandy Invasion, June 6, 1943, The St. Lou Breakthrough, the Sweep across Northern France, The Battle of Ardennes, The Battle of the Bulge and the capture of the first bridge across the Rhine River. He was the recipient of three overseas service bars, the European African Middle Eastern Theater Ribbon with a Silver Battle Star, Good Conduct Medal and a World War II Victory Medal.

I read on about his post-war career as a podiatrist and that he was a Mason; where the wake and funeral would be held. All the normal things you would suspect in an obit...then at the end there it was -- the cemetery -- Acacia Park Cemetery [on Irving Park Rd., Norridge, Illinois]!

How could I have missed the obvious? It would have saved me all those questions to all those cousins all those times and all those emails, not to mention I could have just asked at the cemetery office a year ago when Bob and I were there taking pictures of Buschick's graves just two sections over! Duh!

By the way, I rechecked my notes on my iPhone -- Montrose Cemetery was there all along! Why didn't I notice it earlier? Do-Do-Do-Do.

John R. Vamplew's Little Cabin on the 1884 Kansas Prairie?

IS THIS JOHN VAMPLEW'S CABIN?
For several years now, I kept passing over this side-view image of a cabin. I think it could be great-great uncle John Rouse VAMPLEW's "cottage" near Larned, Kansas. This was the only cabin picture I knew of until yesterday, when I ran across a front-view of the same cabin in another box of pictures! That got me to thinking...is this John Vamplew's Cabin?

I don't know where the cabin is located. I don't know who the persons are in these pictures. I've seen other pictures of a man with the same hat on as in the second picture show. Maybe the account in diary entries written by John's nephew James Wright VAN PLEW will yield a clue.

Could this be great-great uncle John R. Vamplew's cottage near Larned, Kansas?
Who is that carrying a fry pan?

Could this be great-great uncle John R. Vamplew? The hat he's wearing looks like one worn by a man in another image I have. I can only guess the starkness of the countryside around this cabin could be the high prairie near Garfield and Larned, Kansas.

SOME BACKGROUND
My great-great uncle Henry Vamplew (Van Plew) did come to America in 1871. Prior postings on this blog discusses letters of his wanting to and then deciding not to come to America, but he did about a year later when he found he had enough assets to immigrate. He became a citizen 15 Feb 1887 in Waukegan, Illinois. On 18 Sep 1873, Henry married Sarah Almond, daughter of the Wright Almonds who ran the boarding house Henry stayed at in Chicago. The Almonds were natives of Lincolnshire, England which is where all my Vamplews were also from.

Henry carried on the profession of carpenter and evidently he had a chance to go to Denver, Colorado. According to James' entry in the diary, he said on "10 Mar 1879 He went to Denver Colo to work with a company who put up cottages and shak [sic] for miners in the mining towns. He left his family in Rockefeller, Ill. He build cabins for those miners in different parts of Colorado for instance, Colorado Springs, Cripple Creek, Manatou Springs, Gunnison district, Leadville, Ouray, Durango, Salida and others and finally Denver."

Then in 1882 Sarah and the three kids, James W., John, and Annie, went out to Denver where Henry rented a "brick cottage at 705 Glenarm Street and settled down with his wife and three children, James, John and Annie." In 2011, Bob and I were out near Denver and we went into the city to see if we could find that house. The street numbers have changed so the images we thought were of the house turns out to be a block away. Anyway, someone from the (now defunct) Random Acts of Genealogical Kindness (RAOGK) helped me out and sent pictures.

House at 705 Glenarm St., Denver, Colorado. Taken and sent to me 
in 2006 by Paul Daraghy who was a volunteer at RAOGK. It is hard to tell, but the 
house is brick, at least on the bottom. Paul said, "Denver had an all-brick building code after 
a disastrous fire in 1800s; finally repealed only a few decades ago. The upper 
story is probably just wooden shingles over a brick wall." 
Which seems to have been common practice then.

In August of 1884, "He left Denver with his family and his possessions in a covered wagon traveling east across the prairies of Colorado and Kansas as far as Atchison Kansas from where he took railroad train" on to Libertyville, Illinois to stay with the Almond's until they could get a place to live.




GOING HOME, BUT FIRST A STOP AT BROTHER JOHN'S IN KANSAS

When we were in Denver, Bob and I thought we should take near the same route as the covered wagon since we were also traveling to the same area in Kansas to do a little more research on the Porteous family. 

James' accounts of their trip home to Illinois in a covered wagon had caught my fancy. James said, "I remember seeing the wagon in front of the house all loaded up and the two chicken cages each with a chicken in it, Johns and mine, hanging underneath the wagon just missing the ground. Also underneath at the back was a sheetiron cookstove having four griddles and oven. Mother would get it off and on the ground at meal time."

Could this also be a view James saw as they traveled south from Denver? [Photo by me.]

Now a free public park - a plaque on one of the rocks, "Garden of the Gods, given to the 
city of Colorado Springs in 1909 by the children of Charles Elliott Perkins, in fulfilment of his 
wish that it be kept forever free to the public." [Photo by me.]

They traveled "thru one place where red rocks big slabs sticking up high in the air on their edges heaved up in the past ages and left standing there." [Garden of the Gods?] and they stopped at Johnson's ranch near Colorado Springs to give the horses a break. They set up camp and stayed for a couple days. James said, "their dog got into our tent and stole a smoked ham. I missed that ham a lot because we did not buy another one."  

We drove to the Garden of the Gods as you can see by my pictures above and I was amazed and excited to explore the area. Can you imagine how a young boy of about 10 years old felt seeing these rock formations jutting up out of the earth? He never saw something like that before. Bob and I had a chance to walk through the park in 2011, but in 1884 it was wild country with no nice paths and stations explaining the view's history.

On their way again, James said the foothills were "high and up and down for a long way. Then is when I heard the breaks grind as they rubbed against the wheels when we were going down one of the many hills." The family stopped for awhile; the breaks evidently needed some time to cool off as well as the horses need a rest. James said this also gave him and his brother a chance to play around the area, but not too far from the wagon; they didn't seem worried about anything as they scavenged the area as young boys would do. "We found horned toads and big grasshoppers to play with and had them in pens like sheep. The grasshoppers were so big and clumsy that they could not fly and could not hop very far."

Traveling along to Kansas, they would stop in the evenings to set up camp. Sarah would get out her stove and make their supper. The boys were sent out to find firewood. "If we could not find kindling wood for to burn in mother's stove she would send us boys out with a basket to pick up buffalo chips which burned fine and made a hot fire." 

Continuing on to Kansas, they followed the Santa Fe Railroad and "I remember of hearing them speaking of Garden City and Garfield and others. When we got to Larned we took the road for a while then started across the fields to go to our Uncle John Vamplew's where we had planned to visit for a few days." John R. Vamplew and Henry are brothers to my great grandmother Mary Ann (Vamplew) PORTEOUS of Rockefeller, Illinois.

This landscape view is located approximately where John Vamplew's land purchase was about 1878.
I didn't have the cabin pictures, so didn't know there was a hill nearby. Next time Bob and I go
through there, we will definitely look for that hill behind the little cabin.

UNCLE JOHN LIVED IN A SODDIE
"As we were coming across the field toward his house we saw him sitting near his kitchen door with his foot bandaged up. As we came along he got up and pointed to where we should go. He had cut his big toe and had it bandaged up with a soap and sugar mixture. He lived in a sod house with a bedroom and kitchen."

A "soddie" is a sod house which many settlers could erect rather quickly. It was warm in the winter and cool in the summer. One problem, it also had worms, bugs, and other living creatures the humans had to share the space with.

This image of a Pawnee County "soddie" is from a collection of such housed at 
the Santa Fe Trail Center in Larned, Pawnee Co., Kansas. The curator at the center couldn't identify 
whose soddie this was. It does have some of the characteristics described in the diary, but I doubt 
this was great-great uncle John's house, it looks a little bigger than 12' by 15'.

This soddie is part of the living history outdoors displays at the Santa Fe Trail Center in 
Larned, Kansas. According to the site, the Santa Fe Trail Center is an American Alliance of 
Museums accredited institution. The museum is a not-for-profit organization, privately 
owned and operated by the Fort Larned Historical Society. [Photo by me.]

UNCLE JOHN'S SODDIE AND FARM
In another part of James' diary is an interesting description of uncle John's sod house: "We had an uncle 'John Rouse Vamplew', brother of our father living near Larned Kas. not far from Garfield on a farm. Dad had planned to go there to see him. He lived alone in a sod house about 12 ft by 15 ft inside, flat roof covered with sod. A small narrow kitchen with stove at far end and bedroom with door at left hand of it leading to main part of the house which served as bedroom, dining room and parlor. The bed was built in center of room, four posts to ceiling which served as four bed posts as well as supporting the roof. It was built in as a permanent fixture off from foot of the bed was a window. There was room enough between the bed and the window for a small table. There was only one door for entrance into the kitchen which was only just wide enough for the stove to fit in place at the far end. It was a regular cast iron kitchen stove with four griddle and oven. The house was back from the road about 100 feet and he had a vegetable garden along the road between the house and barn. Next to the barn was a chicken house. Practually [sic] no fencing on the place except around the barn, chicken house and garden. A wide space was kept plowed around the buildings to stop prairie fires that might come that way." 

The Henry Van Plew family set up camp to stay a few days. "After we got our tent up mother started to get things in shape. She planned a real supper which was a real treat for Uncle John. His garden was complete and he told her she could use anything in it. He had musk melons and watermelons ripe. We had fun with them. One day we went to a ravine a mile away and picked wild plumbs and they were very sweet." 

Visiting for a few days turned into staying a month. Henry had brought all his tools and I guess when he saw the sod house he decided to build a "frame cottage for his brother." Before the construction started, James helped locate the North Star and "I remember helping to find it to get the house lined up." 

When the cottage was built and ready for habitation, Sarah prepared dinner for all of them, and "we had the first meal in it and the old sod house was abandoned." They left Uncle John's soon after the cottage was built and continued following the Santa Fe Railroad in their wagon. Along the way one of the horses got sick and died. "My parents then decided to sell the other horse and the wagon and take the train to Libertyville Ill."



IS THAT UNCLE JOHN'S CABIN?
Who can tell me? I got no clues like I thought I would from the diary. I really don't know except the cabin is small enough for one person and I know Uncle John never married. I believe Uncle John wore that type of hat shown in the second image. I also believe this image below is of John Rouse Vamplew at the Arkansas River...sure looks like the same hat! Oh, by the way, what is the name of that hat?

Possibly John Rouse Vamplew sitting on a log by the Arkansas River
near Garfield, Kansas. [old image found in family picture box]

IN BRIEF
It wasn't too many years after his brother Henry's visit and the cabin was built, John sold his property and moved in with my great-great grandfather William Dennis Porteous at the north edge of Garfield, Kansas. Uncle John lived there until his death in 1921. He immigrated to America on the same ship the SS Bothnia with the Porteous family in 1875. About 1878 John settled in Kansas, the same time the W.D. Porteous family did. I feel it was only natural since he never married and he lived with the family for so many years that he would be buried in the Garfield Cemetery in the Porteous family plot. [FindaGrave.com memorial # 59225622]