My life Monday - Rocky Rocket

I am creating this blog prompt as a reminder to myself. Like most genealogists I am an expert on my ancestors. I am also an expert on myself, of course, but I epically FAIL when it comes to detailing my own memories. I do keep an old-school journal, but I have found over the years that I am very good at writing in it when things are not really going my way, but will go for years without an entry when things are good. This prompt is an opportunity to write some of the memories I have.

The first pet I ever had was a cat. Or rather a wacky, disappearing kitten. When I was 7 or 8-years-old my family and I made a trip to the Lake of the Ozarks in southern Missouri. My father was visiting a National Guard buddy of his that, I believe, owned the hotel named Rocky Point. I don't remember the actual vacation, but I do remember the cabin we stayed in. It was your typical cabin with one bedroom and a fold-out couch in the living room. At some point in the trip I came across a small kitten. He was adorable and I somehow got him in to the cabin and spent the bulk of our trip playing with him. I asked my parents if I could take the cat home with us and they agreed on the condition that I ask the owner if I could have him. That was a devastating blow, as I was a very shy child and the idea of talking to a stranger, or at least a stranger to me, was horrifying. But one look at my kitten was all I needed to muster up the courage. I finally asked the owner of the property and he happily agreed.

On the morning of our last day of vacation we all got up and straightened the cabin in preparation to leave. But my kitten was nowhere to be found. I knew I had brought him in to the cabin, but now he was gone. I was heartbroken and cried the whole way home. We already had one dog and one cat at home, but that was no consolation for the cat that I felt a special connection to.

A day or two after we got home my dad got a call from his Army buddy. They were cleaning out our cabin and when they took out the fold-out couch to change the sheets out popped my kitten! He must have been scared by all the ruckus of our pack up and hid in the couch. Good news, except for that we lived in Kansas City; a four-hour drive to Branson. But I was a lucky girl and my parents are and were nothing if not adventurous. The next weekend we drove back to Branson and picked up my disappearing kitten, who the hotel owners had kept under a watchful eye. I still vividly remember the drive home in my Dad's 1986 GMC truck with my parents and my kitten in a box on my lap.

We named the kitten Rocky after the place we had to visit twice to get him. Rocky lived to be nearly 20-years-old and we had countless good times together. In an odd twist, my parents sent me a birthday card from Rocky, with a lovely inky paw print, that I received on the day he died. I loved that cat. And I love the story of him. It reminds me of how much my parents love me and how a pet really can make such a big difference in your life.

Sunday Sin: Living versus dead

I made a realization over Christmas (which was soon forgotten in the post-Christmas recovery): I may know more about the dead than I do the living. I am so very fanatical about genealogy and finding that next relative, that I sometimes forget the relative that I could actually call. Stories from the present are just as important as stories from the past. I live far away from my relatives, but that doesn't mean I can't keep in touch by telephone, email or even Facebook. So one of my genealogy resolutions will be to maintain better contact with the living. After all, if it weren't for the dead they wouldn't be here. (Thank you to Threading needles in a haystack: the genealogy journey for the reminder of my forgotten resolution!)

I am asking for too much?

I suppose that I can be selfish sometimes. After all, I am only human. But I am beginning to wonder if I am unnecessarily selfish when it comes to genealogy. This thought came to my mind as I was reviewing some of my past genealogy board posts. I have made many, many posts on countless different genealogy boards on Rootsweb.com, Genealogy.com and others. Every time I make a request I ask simply for information on a specific ancestor and provide as much information about the individual as I have. My goal in posting is to find out as much as humanly possible about a person. What better way to do so then to connect with a fellow researcher interested or knowledgeable on a similar surname or locality? Most often, if I receive a response at all, the individual is informative and helpful. I have even made connections where individuals provide me with copies of ancestral files. But I have received enough responses that I consider to be a little "short" with me and my request that I want to know if I am breaching some sort of board posting etiquette.

I received one response where the individual reprimanded me for not narrowing down what I was looking for. Herein lies the rub. If I were only looking for an individual's death date, I would say so. But I am interested in all facets of an individual's life and would rather have the fire hydrant of information then a small trickle of water. Is this really asking too much?

Thriller Thursday - Jesse C. Turnage, murdered by guerrillas

Missouri was rife with confederate guerrilla action throughout the Civil War. In an effort to combat the growing guerrilla problem in the state, Major General Harry W. Halleck, then Commander of the Department of Mississippi, issued General Order #2 on 13 March 1862. A portion of the order read as follows:

"Evidence has been received at these headquarters that Maj. Gen. Sterling Price has issued commissions or licenses to certain bandits in this State, authorizing them to raise "guerrilla forces," for the purpose of plunder and marauding. General Price ought to know that such a course is contrary to the rules of civilized warfare, and that every man who enlists in such an organization forfeits his life and becomes an outlaw. All persons are hereby warned that if they join any guerrilla band they will not, if captured, be treated as ordinary prisoners of war, but will be hung as robbers and murderers. Their lives shall atone for the barbarity of their general."

Heady stuff, and clear that guerrilla activity would not be accepted by Union forces in the state of Missouri. Brigadier General Schofield, Commander of the Department of Missouri, created the Enrolled Missouri Militia in July 1862 in a further effort to thwart the guerrilla activity. The Militia was considered a part-time force, called in to duty for emergency and garrison-type policing duties. Its formation then freed Missouri State Militia troops to actively hunt the guerrillas.

Jesse C. Turnage enrolled in the Enrolled Missouri Militia October 2, 1862. The story goes that on 18 July 1864, 2LT Turnage was on leave and working in his fields in Ray County, Missouri. "Bloody Bill" Anderson and his gang of guerrillas came upon Turnage, and knowing his role in the Militia, tied him up and interrogated him. Anderson then decided that Turnage would die and a member of his gang cut the Soldier's throat. The story continues that the gang then went to the Turnage family home and forced Turnage's wife, Esther, to make them food.

William T. Anderson, known as "Bloody Bill"

A tragic story, but is it true? This incident took place in Ray County, Missouri, and I can find no copy of the local newspaper for that date. Library holdings stop a week prior to 18 July 1864. But such an event must have been recorded in the daily reports of the 51st EMM. The Cornell University Library has digitized the entire volume of The Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies. In this publication I was able to find a report dated 18 July 1864 from Joseph E. Black to Brigadier General Clinton B. Fisk. The report states in part:

"On the 18th they [guerrillas] passed northwest of Richmond, about seven miles from the city, murdering Lieutenant Turnage, of company D, Fifty-first Regiment Enrolled Missouri Militia...Lieutenant Turnage was shot three times in the head and his throat was cut from ear to ear."

So the story is true and more gruesome than I was aware of. I have yet to determine the validity of the guerrillas then forcing themselves into Turnage's home. While the above is not conclusive proof that "Bloody Bill" Anderson was actually involved, it does show the savage nature of the Civil War in in the state of Missouri. The fact that it was attributed to Anderson also shows that, while it may not be fact, it was definitely an example of his modus operandi and an example of how he earned his terrible moniker.

Sources: Maj. Gen. Halleck's General Order #2: The War of the Rebellion: a Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate armies. ; Series 1 - Volume 8, pages 611-612.
Joseph Black report to Brig. Gen. Fisk: The War of the Rebellion: a Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate armies. ; Series 1 - Volume 41 (Part II), page 252.

Ode to double-checking your sources: Frank Roelker

When I met my husband I never truly considered his last name. I was more interested in those blue eyes and big heart. It wasn’t until after we were married that I began to wonder about my new name: Roelker. I have been passionate about genealogy all my life but I had never considered being passionate about someone else’s roots until I made the connection that they were now my roots as well.

So I began to ask questions. My husband and in-laws knew that the name was of German origin, they believed it was from the Black Forest area, and that their immigrant ancestor came to the United States fairly recently.

My search started with collecting all of the census records I could find. I was able to trace the line back to Frank Roelker who, according to census records, was born in Germany in 1861. I found him and his wife Regina with their six children on the 1900 census in Montezuma County, Colorado. As far as official records went, this is as far as I could get. The 1900 census stated that Frank immigrated to the United States in 1878, but despite many searches I was unable to find any record of his arrival in America.

The 1900 census also stated that Frank was a naturalized citizen but finding proof of that also eluded me. I contacted the Colorado State Archives to see if they had a record of his naturalization but they had no documentation on Frank. In a search of Colorado newspapers at The Colorado Historic Newspapers Collection I found small notes about the Roelkers' social life, but no information about their origin. I knew when Frank and Regina had died based on a search on FindAGrave.com, so contacted the local library, but there were no copies of the local newspaper from that time to search for an obituary. The Colorado Historical Society had copies of the newspaper on microfilm, but they were closed and in the middle of a move between buildings. Dead end.

I decided to request Frank Roelker's death certificate. I downloaded a death certificate request form from the Colorado Department of Public Health and Environment and mailed it to the appropriate address. Unfortunately, his death certificate did not have any information that I did not already know. It only stated that he was born in Germany and the informant, his son William Roelker, did not know his grandparents name so they are not listed on the certificate.

It seemed that I was officially at a brick wall. I went back to my census research to see if there was anything I missed. In my second look at the 1900 census I noticed something I should have seen the first time: all of Frank and Regina's children were born in Colorado except for his first child, Mary. Mary was born in Ohio around 1885. If the information was correct, the Roelkers lived in Ohio around 1885 and moved to Colorado somewhere in between 1885 and 1900. 

The 1900 census page that broke my
brick wall for the Roelker family.

It was a great find and opened up a whole new line of research, but I also wanted to hit myself across the head. I should have noticed that information the first time around. I often get so excited to move on to the next shiny object that I fly through documents rather than really investigate them. It is hard to say when even the smallest tidbit of information will open new leads. So this is my ode to double-checking facts. May I one day learn!

To Meet Tuesday: Lois Burnett Kuhn

I have decided to start my own blog prompt for Tuesday: To Meet Tuesday. I know what you are thinking...why not Meet Monday? Well, I like Military Monday too much. Anyway, this prompt is all about the ancestors you wish you could meet in person, if only for a little bit, and what you would say to them.

If I'm honest I would like to meet every ancestor I find, but I have no problem picking the first person I would want to meet. It would be my grandmother, Lois Burnett Kuhn. Lois was my father's mother and she died when he was only 18 of a heart attack. She was born and raised in Kansas City, Missouri and following a divorce was a single, working mother. She was in her mid-twenties during WWII and worked in a factory...and fell in love with a Soldier. My father has told me many stories of his mother including how she used to roll up the carpet in their living room and make dad dance with her to big band music. I can imagine the two of them swinging around the room. From the stories I have heard from family she was an independent woman.



Leroy Kuhn and Lois Burnett
on their wedding day



If I met her I think I would tell her how much I have missed her. How much everyone has missed her. I would also tell her about my father and myself and what we have accomplished, although perhaps that is a waste as she probably already knows. No, maybe I would just focus on asking her about herself. Things she loved and hated, how she liked to spend her time. And before she left I would tell her how I believe I learned my independence, in part, from her.

It is a sad thing to me that I was never able to meet my grandmother. I'm not sure how I know, but I am positive we would have been peas in a pod. But even though she isn't here, she has been a big influence on my life. I have always thought of her watching and supporting me from wherever she is. We never met, but she has always been here.

Military Monday: Exploits in Military Records, part II

My Kuhn line is filled with men who served their country. Our military legacy stretches back to the Revolutionary War, which means a large portion of my research time is devoted to military history and research. One ancestor that I have always been curious about is Warren Edward Kuhn. I knew from a very young age that Warren died in WWII and that my father was named after him. We didn't know very much about his service, other than that he served in the European theater and was buried in Henri-Chapelle American Cemetery in Belgium. My father has often told me the story about his visit to that cemetery during his military tour in Germany in the 1960s; it gave him a very strange feeling to see his own name on a headstone.

Years later I was able to make my own visit to Henri-Chapelle to pay my respects on Veteran's Day. The cemetery is located in Belgium, just north of the village of Henri-Chapelle and only seven miles from the German border. In order to find the location of the headstone we stopped to visit with the cemetery administrator. He was very kind and when he found out we were looking for a relative's grave he took us to his office and prepared a packet of documents for us which included a printout of information from the American Battle Monuments Commission website and an official Presidential certificate honoring my uncle's service. He also escorted my husband and I to the grave and gave us a flag to honor him. I was floored and had not expected such a welcome or the level of respect for my fallen ancestor.

I walked away from the experience realizing that I did not know anything about my uncle. I resolved to dig deeper and learn more about both him and his service. In a quick search on Ancestry.com I located the WWI, WWII, and Korean War Casualty Listings archive and found a listing on my uncle, which included his service number. As I did with my grandfather, I wrote to the National Personnel Records Center (NPRC) and requested a copy of his official military record file or OMPF. I could not use the eVetRecs service of the National Archives because I am not a direct descendant, but instead filled out the Standard Form 180. I sent my request on  4 September 2009. On 11 January 2010 I received a response. In the cover letter the archivist mentioned that the record I requested was in the portion of the NPRC that received the most damage during the fire there in 1973, but that they did have a few documents that were saved and for $60 I could get copies of them. That was a pretty steep price to pay, but I just couldn't say no.

In March 2010 I received the documents in a packet 1/2" thick. It included all the paperwork from Warren's induction into the military. It also contained documents from March 1945 when he was killed in action. It included the place in Germany where he was injured and the injuries he sustained. I am not a morbid person, but for some reason it was very important to me to understand what he had gone through and where he had died. I received the information after I moved from Germany, but when I return I plan to visit the city where he was killed.

My results for the request of his OMPF are not typical. Very few World War II Army personnel records we saved from the 1973 fire. That being said, there are still other options when researching Army veterans killed in action during WWII. Ancestry.com has many resources for military casualty listings which include not only service numbers but assigned units. Although it is a fee-based website many libraries offer the site for free. If you have the assigned unit you can trace the unit's movement, as well as that of their higher headquarters, and find a better idea of where your ancestor was when they were killed. I knew that Warren was assigned to the 814th Tank Destroyer Battalion and in a quick Google search of that unit I found many links that gave me an idea of what the unit did during the war. By narrowing the search to Google Books I found books that discussed the history of the unit that I could view and download in some instances. I also visited WorldCat.org, a website that compiles the holdings of libraries from across the country, and found many other books that I could request through interlibrary loan. Many Army divisions also have associations where past members gather and maintain the history of the division. You are especially lucky if your ancestor's unit still exists, as you can find information on their heritage by contacting the Army historian for the unit or its higher headquarters.

For a better understanding of what your military ancestor experienced you can visit The National World War II Museum in New Orleans or visit the website for the U.S. Army Center of Military History which has a myriad of publications and links.

I am especially proud of my uncle and his sacrifice. The search for his service history has been fascinating and only makes me the more proud.