"stucco'd with quadrapeds"

In Delmar R Lowell's indispensable (if you are a Lowell) The Historic Genealogy of the Lowells of America from 1639 to 1899, he bemoans the fact that so few people are aware of their own lineage, yet--but I will let him tell it:

I have found a few who could not tell with certainty their parent's names [!]--quite a number who could not give birth, dates, or marriage dates of their parents. A larger number who stumble at their grandparents, and a multitude totally ignorant of ancestry further back. [You know who you are.]

This seems pitiful when contrasted with the expense, study and labor used by some to secure and record the ancestry of their horses, cattle, sheep, dogs, cats, etc. I have heard these persons rattle off the ancestry of these animals, when, if life depended upon it, they could not name their grandparents.

Such an exhibition is indeed pitiable.

"Indeed" indeed. And perhaps a little of the Lowell hyperbole has found its way to me. It certainly seems that personality traits, if you will, rather than just looks and other genetic data, do go from generation to generation. Researching my family, there are certain motifs that recur which I find in myself, although I did not inherit--to pick just two--religious mania or a desire to go prospecting....

But I do have a love of dogs, so perhaps it seems likely to have come from some one or more of my ancestors. But whom? And how could I find out? For although Mr Lowell, above, appears to be discussing purebreds, whose heritage indeed can be well-documented (although the American Kennel Club itself dates from only 1884, a mere few generations of human-time, although Dog knows how long in "dog years..."), what about our beloved mutts?

To double back a bit, when I approach each of these bloggeries (a portmanteau of blog and vagary I just coined), I begin with a person or theme in mind. This time: our canine companions. Check!

Next, I riffle through Walt Whitman's "Leaves of Grass" (1856 edition) for a suitable quotation to use as the title of the post. Now Walt loved his animals nearly as much as his fellow man: "The sharp-hoof'd moose of the north, the cat on the house-sill, the chickadee, the prairie dog...."  From mastodon to pismire, they're all here. This is a man who does "not call the tortoise unworthy because she is not something else." Yet in all of his work's thousand-plus lines, there is not one mention of a dog. Well, strictly speaking, there is one, in the tenth poem: "Falling asleep on the gather'd leaves with my dog and gun by my side." One of my self-created rules, however, is that I only use one excerpt from each poem, and I already have used a line from number ten on a previous post. Hence the near dada-esque header for this post. And how fortunate I am not to be descend'd from Whitman, from whom I might have acquir'd the habit of the dropp'd final "e."

Anyway. It seems Whitman had a dog, although biographers cannot say for certain. Biographers do tell us that a housekeeper, Mary Oakes Davis, moved in with the bed-ridden Whitman in 1885, bringing with her a dog, cat, two turtledoves, and other animals, but the dog's name is unrecorded. Which leads me back to my point: that however much they are considered part of the family, pets are not well-documented. (Although just today there was an article in the paper about a well-known casket company that is branching out to make pet urns for your four-legged love ones, and one can find several websites devoted to the dog cemeteries of Paris). I have yet to see a pet on a family tree; they do not appear in any of the usual genealogical documents (except perhaps in the possibly apocryphal wills of elderly ladies who leave their millions to their cats, but no such feline beneficiary exists in my family, at least). 

The closest sources I have found are the U S Federal Non-Population Schedules for Agriculture, but even those include only livestock rather than pets.

An excerpt from the 1850 Schedule 4 Census.

On line 5 of the example above is a maternal fourth great-grandfather: John Wallace Cherry (27 May 1788 - 10 Feb 1857). Although somewhat modest in acreage compared to his neighbors, he seemed to be doing fairly well if we look at the cash value. Moving across the columns, we can see that he had four horses, five heads of cattle, thirteen sheep, and three swine, before moving onto the agricultural items. Yet there is no evidence of a Fido or Tabby....

We can learn a great deal about Cherry and his (human) family. He was born in Londonderry, New Hampshire, the sixth of eleven children. The Cherry family, including young John Wallace, moved to Oneida County, New York, in the early 1800s. We know he married in 1808, and fought in the War of 1812.

Around 1840, Cherry and his wife, Clarissa Adams (31 Jan 1791 - 7 Feb 1872) along with their eleven children, moved to Marysville, Union, Ohio.  We can surmise that he was a patriotic man: not only the son of a Revolutionary War captain himself, among his sons are the jingoistically named George Washington Cherry (10 Sep 1809 - 17 Jan 1890) and John Adams Cherry (23 Apr 1816 - 28 Aug 1817). The family zeal for liberty continued: his son Samuel Alonzo Cherry (16 Dec 1811 - 27 Apr 1897) was involved with the Underground Railroad, his home being a "station" in Marysville.

In fact, we know a great deal about all of John Wallace Cherry's children: Charles Henry Cherry (7 Jun 1837 - 16 Mar 1908) died after a three-day bout with pneumonia; the aforementioned George was a postmaster (one of those recurring family motifs I mentioned); William Hopkins Cherry (8 Oct 1823 - 23 Jun 1864) was killed in the Civil War.... Yet not a thing about the no-doubt beloved Cherry pets.

But wait!  There are those thirteen sheep.... And where there are sheep, it seems only natural there must be a dog to herd and protect them. I want to call him Towser. I can see him now, racing around those forty-three acres, playing fetch with the Cherry young'uns, guarding the thirteen sheep....

Yet rather than share a fictional biography of the imagined (or --as I'm going to believe--only undocumented) Towser, I will share the history of a genuine canine family member, our Maisie.

We adopted Maisie for my  40th  birthday, after an outing to the recently-opened local animal shelter "just to look" (in the same way we were going "just to look" at flat screen televisions, airfares to Walt Disney World, and houses in Ohio, to give just three examples). The landlord of the duplex we were living in did not want us to have pets, but he was nice--and generally absent-- and we thought a small dog wouldn't be a problem. And there she was, an adorable little "terrier mix," as the shelter's tag described her. So cute! It would be like having Toto.

Baby Maisie.

Of course, as we later learned from our vet, shelters have good intentions, but not the best eye for distinguishing between families (not unlike some genealogists). As she said: "The big ones are always 'lab mix,' the little ones 'dachshund mix' and the furry ones 'terrier mix.''' Our "terrier mix" puppy ended up being mostly bearded collie and weighs in at over sixty pounds. Toto she ain't.

Like others of her (almost) breed, she has the bearded collie's distinctive run, and instinctive desire to herd other animals, as we learned the hard way on an early trip to the dog park.


Go, dog, go.

Maisie was born 10 Jun 2001, and as I said, she was meant as my present for my birthday that September. After choosing her, we had to pick her up a few days later, so that she could be checked by the vet and spayed, a condition of the shelter with which we were happy to comply. As it turned out, her pick-up day was September 11th. The September 11th. Like everyone else that horrible day, we were so caught up in the news that we completely forgot about our new charge. Around eleven a.m., the vet's office called to remind us, asking if we were coming in, so that the employees could go home to be with their families. We zoomed out and brought dear Maisie home. It was cheering to have something so loving and alive to hold while we watched the developments of that terrible day. My patriotism being nearly as evolved as my ancestor's, we still try to find joy on the anniversary of the attacks by celebrating "Maisie Day," and our Miss Mu, as we have somehow come to call her.

The many moods of Maisie-mu.

Beyond being the catalyst for her own holiday, Maisie also was the instigator of a new business venture. Looking at various commercial dog treats, we found they were either costly, unhealthy, or most often both. My other half being a crafty sort, he began trying out different recipes for dog treats, finally landing on a variety of wholesome flavors our dogs (Rosie and Coco being added to the menagerie in the meantime) loved. We shared the treats with friends' and neighbors' companions, who kept suggesting (the F and N, not the companions, although I'm sure they would have if they could) that we start a dog treat business. Which we did (plug, plug): MaiRo & Co Dog Treat Bakery, link to which conveniently located to your right.



From left: Rosie, Maisie, and Coco.

As our business grew (we've been featured in Pup Culture magazine, and have four-legged clients from California to New York; as I write this, in fact, I am sitting at the MaiRo & Co Dog Treat Bakery booth at a benefit for the Greenhills Fire Department), we began to grow more of our own ingredients. Not usually found among the trendy (cf. geneaology), I have somehow joined the ranks of urban farmer. In fact, a couple years back we even began to raise chickens to provide fresh eggs. Which reminds me that I did not see chickens on that Agricultural Census either....

All this talk of farming and patriotism at last brings me back to my ostensible human subject, John Wallace Cherry, and inherited family traits. Thanks, "Grandpa John," for the love of dogs!

John Wallace Cherry's marker.
 It is adjacent to a larger memorial to several members of the family.
Oak Grove Cemetery, Delaware Ohio. Photo: Robert Burnett

And Rest in Peace, Towser, wherever you are.

[Special thanks to Hidden Genealogy Nuggets' blog: Geneaology by the States for the prompt!]

1. John Wallace Cherry (27 May 1788 - 10 Feb 1857) married Clarissa Adams (31 Jan 1791 - 7 Feb 1872), parents unknown, on 11 Oct 1808 in Paris, Oneida, New York.

2. Mary Ann Cherry (17 Dec 1813 - 11 Nov 1853) married Frederick Dillazone Ketchum (6 Apr 1811 - 21 Jan 1888), son of Elisha Ketchum and ?, on 13 Feb 1835, in Huron, Erie, Ohio.

3. Caroline Clarissa Ketchum (30 Sep 1848 - 7 Feb 1920) married Phillip Jacob Runser (30 May 1845 - 22 Mar 1921), son on Philippe Jacob Runser and Anna Marie Brunner, on 13 Feb 1871, in Black River Falls, Jackson, Wisconsin.

4. Isabelle "Belle" Runser (21 Oct 1881 - 30 Mar 1960) married John Jacob "Jack" Severin (11Jul 1878 - 2 Jan 1965), son of Jacob S Severin and Anna Margaretha Tiedjens, on 13 Feb 1903, probably in South Dakota.

5. Myrna Margaret Severin (6 Nov 1907 - 12 Jan 1997) married Dana Earl Brown (26 Jan 1910 - 10 Sep 1984), son of Clarence Edgar Brown and Cora Mabel Kinman, on 21 Oct 1933, in Minneapolis, Hennepin, Minnesota.

6. Beverly Alane Brown (8 Aug 1934 - 7 Mar 2010) married [Living] Burnett, son of Leroy Stanley Burnett and Hazel Lucille Erickson, on 4 Mar 1961, in Long Beach, Los Angeles, California.

7. Your humble blogger.

"If you do not say any thing how can I say any thing?"

In her massive The Making of Americans (in itself a not-bad title for a genealogy blog...), the equally massive Gertrude Stein wrote: "I am writing for myself and strangers." I sometimes feel like that as well, although many of the strangers who come to this blog turn out to be cousins, happily, albeit distant ones. And there must be a fair number of you strangers out there: my total hits for March at this blog was over four hundred, a new record that almost doubled the previous month's, itself the brief all-time high. Thanks! 



Miss Stein, during her college years; a typical page from The Making of Americans.

This post, like several others, concerns New England, which is inevitable if one can go back far enough in one's family tree in this country, to the time and place of the Making of America. When I began this blog, it had not occurred to me I would be spending so much time Down East, or on the Cape, or in Beantown. It was one of those momentary, late-night mental lapses, like when I was so pleased I was fortunate enough to be descended from Mayflower passengers who survived....

Anyway. Boston makes me think of Harvard, which school Miss Stein attended; correctly, she attended the Harvard Annex, now Radcliffe, due to her gender. She studied psychology and philosophy under William James, among others, although she did not receive a degree.

     It was a very lovely spring day, Gertrude Stein had been going to the opera every night and going also to the opera in the afternoon and had been otherwise engrossed and it was the period of the final examinations, and there was the examination in William James' course. She sat down with the examination paper before her and she just could not. Dear Professor James, she wrote at the top of her paper. I am so sorry but really I do not feel a bit like an examination paper in philosophy to-day, and left.
     The next day she had a postal card from William James saying, Dear Miss Stein, I understand perfectly how you feel I often feel that myself. And underneath it he gave her work the highest mark in his course.

This famous anecdote is from The Autobiography of Alice B Toklas, written--tellingly--by Miss Stein herself. She later dropped out of Johns Hopkins medical school, stating simply that she was "bored." Harvard, of course, has produced many writers (well-known--and otherwise) who did graduate, among them John Collins Bossidy ("otherwise"), whose sole remembered literary legacy is the toast he gave in 1910 at one of his alumni dinners:

"And this is good old Boston,

The home of the bean and the cod,

Where the Lowells talk only to Cabots,

And the Cabots talk only to God."

I uncovered this bit of doggerel shortly after I discovered I was a Lowell, or rather, a Lowell descendant, from Percival Lowle (or Lowell), the first of the American Lowells. And what is behind Bossidy's toast? The Lowells (along with the Cabots, and--I suppose--others), were considered Boston Brahmins, an upper-class elite that constituted the "first families" of New England, and who, according to Wikipedia, "form an integral part of the historic core of the East Coast Establishment." Well then. Among the other forty-or-so Brahmin families are such familiar presidential names as Adams, Coolidge, Delano, and Quincy; other noted families like the Cabots, Forbes, Peabodys, Putnams, and such; and even a few that connote nothing (to me at least), like Saltonstall, Tarbox, and Wigglesworth, who, presumably, did talk to each other, if not to the rarefied Lowells.

In his seminal (if self-published) work, The Historic Genealogy of the Lowells of America 1639 - 1899, the author, the Rev. Delmar R Lowell (with perhaps a bit of bias) wrote:

To do justice to the name of Lowell would require more than a moderate sized volume; a name not only distinguished in literature, theology and jurisprudence, but in all the relations of life.

In the words of another noted--if fictional--WASP: La di da, la di da, la la. But Rev. Lowell has a point. A later Percival Lowell founded the Lowell Observatory; his brother Abbott was president of Harvard, his sister Amy was a Pulitzer Prize winning poet.

Like cousin Delmar, I will not attempt a "full history," but at least tell a little about the Lowell who got the whole ball rolling in the not-yet United States: Percival Lowle.

Percival was born in Somerset, England in 1571, where his Lowle forebears had lived for at least four hundred years. The family was well-to-do; there is believed to have been aristocracy on both sides. At any rate, by 1597 Percival was the Assessor in the village of Kingston-Seymour. He married his wife, Rebecca (whose last name has been lost to time) about 1599 (although records differ). Within a few years he was a prominent merchant in Bristol, running the firm Percival Lowle & Co. with his son John, and other family members. Then a remarkable thing happened:

In the year 1639 he cut asunder from all connections with England, and with his family, consisting of his wife, Rebecca, his two sons, John and Richard, his daughter Joane, and their respective families, and came to the Massachusetts colony and in June of 1639 settled at Newbury. 

The causes that led to the abandonment of his nativity, and to exile himself from the associations of a lifetime — the island home of a long line of distinguished ancestry — is a study of interest. He was then sixty-eight years of age. He had been successful even to opulence, and his age and circumstances would seem to have invited him to ease and retirement befitting his surroundings at Bristol.

Although accounts differ (boredom, money, a distaste for Charles I) as to what caused him to make this drastic and potentially dangerous change, most agree that John Winthrop, Governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony, was looking for dependable, reputable people to settle in this troubled area and was able to persuade Lowell and family to make the voyage on the ship "Jonathan." Certainly, the men were friends. Upon Winthrop's death, Percival wrote a lengthy poem, A Funeral Elegie, just two verses of which follow.

You English Mattachusians all
Forebear some time from sleeping.
Let everyone both great and small
Prepare themselves for weeping.

He was New England's Pelican
New England's Gubernator
He was New England's Solomon
New England's Conservator.


Although I have nowhere near the accomplishments of the varied Lowells (whose other descendants include everyone from T S Eliot to Tuesday Weld), perhaps there was one small legacy: it seems it is from poet Percival--a tenth great-grandfather--that I inherit my love of italics, which I use nearly as much as he did.



First Burying Ground, Newbury, Essex, Massachusetts.
The image at the top is a portion of the Lowell coat of arms.

Gertrude Stein again: "I love it and I write it. I want readers so strangers must do it." Don't be a stranger. Feel free to "Follow" this blog, or leave a comment. I'd love to hear from you.

Even if you're not a Cabot--or God.


1. Percival Lowle or Lowell (1571 - 8 Jan 1664) was born in Somerset, England, and married Rebecca LKU (1575- 28 Dec 1645), possibly in 1598 or 1599. They emigrated to the Massachusetts Colony in 1639, where they were among the founders of the town of Newbury.

2. John Lowell (? - 10 Jul 1647) emigrated with his parents, and once at Newbury, married Elizabeth Goodale (1620- 23 Apr 1651), daughter of John Goodale (1582- 7 Jul 1625) and Elizabeth Parlett (1584 -  8 Apr 1647), sometime between 1639 and 1641.

3. Benjamin Lowell (12 Sep 1642 - 22 Oct 1714) was, with his twin brother John (12 Sep 1642 - 25 Jul 1672), born in Newbury, Essex, Massachusetts, where he married Ruth Woodman (28 Mar 1646 - 22 Oct 1714), daughter of Edward Woodman (27 Dec 1606 - 17 May 1670) and Joanna Salway (1614 - 1687), on 17 Oct 1666.

4. Joseph Lowell (12 Sep 1680 - 8 Apr 1753) was also born, and died, in Newbury. It was also there that he married Mary Hardy (2 Feb 1693 - 4 Nov 1747), daughter of George Hardy (1660 - 6 Nov 1694) and Mary Fogg (1 May 1662 - 6 Nov 1694), on 6 Dec 1707.

5. Joseph Lowell (20 Feb 1720 - aft 1769) married Mary Jones (5 Feb 1726 - ?), daughter of Joseph Jones (1 Oct 1702 - ?) and Mary Prowse (26 Nov 1703 - 1783), on 11 Jan 1745, in Newbury, Essex, Massachusetts.

6. Hannah Lowell (23 Jan 1759 - Sep 1802) married Reuben Grindle (20 Mar 1757 - 15 Jul 1835), son of John Grindle (1 Aug 1714 - 1794) and Elizabeth Dorr (1727 - 12 Apr 1761), on 6 Oct 1777, in Penobscot, Hancock, Maine.

7. Deborah Grindle (25 Feb 1784 - aft 1860), married Isaac Burnett (1780 - May 1860), parents unknown, on 23 Dec 1802, in Hancock County, Maine.

8. Nathaniel S Burnett (12 Mar 1826 - 10 Oct 1885) married Rachel Elizabeth Squire (28 Jan 1829 - 21 Apr 1902), daughter of Samuel Squire (13 Apr 1797 - 26 Jul 1871) and Lovina Coleman (27 Oct 1806 - 2 Jul 1901), on 26 Dec 1850, in Hancock County, Maine.

9. Charles A Burnett (Feb 1856 - 17 Jan 1930) married Ella Swarts (1 Sep 1861 - Apr 1899), daughter of Charles Swarts (12 Feb 1835 - 8 Jan 1909) and Henrietta Davenport (Jan 1836 - May 1904), on 1 Sep 1879 (her eighteenth birthday), at Spring Lake, Minnesota.

10. Alfred Nathaniel Burnett (19 Aug 1883 - 31 Jul 1959) married Jennie Arleta Eaton (14 Mar 1891 - 15 Apr 1979), daughter of Dor Henry Eaton (May 1869 - 31 Dec 1945) and Anna B Miller (Jan 1867 - aft 1920), in 1909 in Minnesota.

11. Leroy Stanley Burnett (31 Aug 1910 - 11 May 1980) married Hazel Lucille Erickson (6 Sep 1910 - 6 May 2002), daughter of Erick Albert Erickson (28 Aug 1864 - 27 Nov 1948) and Johanna Maria "Marie" Svard (5 Feb 1875 - 28 Apr 1914),on 21 Jun 1933 in Minneapolis, Minnesota.

12. [Living] Burnett married Beverly Alane Brown (8 Aug 1934 - 7 Mar 2010), daughter of Dana Earl Brown (26 Jan 1910 - 10 Sep 1984) and Myrna Margaret Severin (6 Nov 1907 - 12 Jun 1997), on 4 Mar 1961 in Long Beach, California.

13. Your humble blogger.

"...chalk'd in large letters on a board"

Southworth Hamlin. Or Hamlen. Or Southward Hamblen. Or Hamelin. Or any combination thereof....

The correct spelling of his name is a question of doubt. As a matter of fact, people in those times were not particular, and the same individual did not spell his name uniformly, in many instances; there was no standard of English orthography then. In the foregoing pedigree the name  is spelled Hamelyn and Hamelin, in the record of Baptisms Hamblin and Hamlin; in the colonial records, Hamlene, Hamilen, and Hamblen. His pastor, Rev. Mr. Lothrop wrote the name uniformly, Hamling. Rev. Mr. Russell, a successor of Mr. Lothrop, wrote it Hamblin. His sons and descendants for the first four generations, generally wrote it Hamblen; but as signed to his will, it is spelled Hamlin. The descendants spell the name variously: Hamlin, Hamlen, Hamline, Hamblin and Hamblen.
                          --History of the Hamlin Family, H. Franklin Andrews, 1894

One of the happenstances in the hobby of genealogy is working with names: the thrill of recognizing one: Roosevelt! Coolidge!; the giggle when coming across a particularly humorous one: Benjamin Bodfish, Thankful Bangs (both Hamlin relations--honestly).

Southworth Hamlin, a paternal seventh great-grandfather, has one of those unusual names that can be both a blessing and curse in family history research. Certainly there are fewer Southworth Hamlins than, say, William Carters (a maternal third great-grandfather). But with all the variants the unusual names often have, their scarcity nearly negates any value as an expedient.

As just one example, take what you might think an unusual name: Constantine Connelly (a maternal fourth great-grandfather). Not only is there the challenge of C-o-n or C-o-double n, -e- then l or double l -y, but the--to me--astounding discovery that there were two  contemporaneous, unrelated Constantine Connellys in the same general geographic area! No wonder within a generation our family standardized it as Conley....

A similar issue arises with recurring names in families: on the one hand, they can be useful to ascertain (or help verify) family groups, but alternately, they can lead to confusion. My--by no means vast--family tree contains four different Elizabeth Motts, seven John Morrisons, (or Morisons), and eight John Maxwells. The confusion becomes amplified when families intermarry. Consider the case of Dor Henry Eaton (a paternal second great-grandfather): of the eight couples who comprise his second great-grandparents, three are the same pair....

Simple, right?

As you can see, his parents were first cousins, as were his paternal grandparents. And this is just my immediate forebear; the Harts and Eatons all had lots of children, and many did the same thing. As genealogists' old joke goes: I'm so New England, I am my own cousin!

Five generations of  Eatons & Harts, c 1911
. From left: Clarissa Alma Cornwell, Thettis Caroline Hart, Dor Henry Eaton,
 Jennie Arleta Eaton (his daughter), and Leroy Stanley Burnett (her son).

Then there are patronymics and other naming patterns to factor in. If only it were all as simple as the Swedes! Alfred Nathaniel Burnett (a paternal great grandfather) has his grandfather's first name as his middle. In between sits Charles A Burnett; I would like to believe that "A" stands for Alfred, but I have no proof, as the namesakes are haphazard.

There are many instances in which a woman's maiden name becomes her middle initial upon her marriage. And of course there are nicknames. Going back to the chart above, there has been confusion about Eliakim Eaton's wives. He married first Elizabeth Hart; when she died, he remarried (some time in his seventies!) a "Betsy E." (as she is identified on their tombstone), leading many to suppose that the two women are one, despite different birth and death dates.

Ludington Cemetery
Ludington, Eau Claire, Wisconsin
Photo: Terri Woodford

And what about matching names? I have never been a fan. Growing up, I knew a family who named each of their daughters with names beginning with "L." Ultimately, they had seven girls, and the names got more and more obscure.... My maternal grandmother and her sisters each share the initial "M" for their middle names; her husband and his brother both have middle names beginning with "E" as did their father and his father. My grandparents apparently attempted to keep that tradition alive, as my mother and uncle both have middle names beginning with "A."  But there it ended: I am named after two uncles, while my sister is named after two of my mother's friends. That uncle's children have names taken from within the family, but to no discernible pattern.

Sometimes the names are just odd: twins Florence Augusta Ketchum and Frederick Augustus Ketchum having matching initials (fine, I suppose, for twins), but where did their twinnish middle name come from? There are no other classical names in the family, but stranger still, they were born in July....

Alongside recurrence of names in families is general popularity. Certain names immediately suggest an era or region. I expect that every girl named Shirley was born in the 'thirties; surely there was never a Brittany before the 'eighties. Regional accents, now nearly a thing of the past, could add a layer of confusion as well, especially before literacy and standardized spelling came along. Census takers would write down what they heard, as best they could, leading to some very interesting names, the more so as those names sometimes became further garbled when transcribed later.

Although regional accents have all but vanished, and the Internet has made the world seem a smaller place, I wonder if our text-happy present, with its acronyms, abbreviations and shortcuts replacing hand-written documents (leaving no readily available trail), as well as our e-culture of numbers and passwords for everything (likewise), will keep future genealogists working just as hard--if not harder--to find out the names of their ancestors.

The nature of families--and consequently, family names--is evolving as well. Unmarried parents, step-families, same-sex couples, hyphenates.... In my own family we even have an admirable couple in which a husband took his wife's name. Progressive steps, indeed, but each will no-doubt bring its own challenges to future historians trying to unlock family relationships.

What will the next generations make of the Jadens, Tylers and Madisons of today? Who knows. In the meanwhile, I have decided it is Southworth (being the maiden name of his grandmother) Hamlin (his grandfather Eleazer declaring the silent B "useless").

Southworth Hamblen's [sic] headstone, West Barnstable Cemetery.

1. Southworth Hamlin was born 21 May 1721 in Barnstable, Massachusetts, a town founded in part by his great-grandfather, James Hamlin (1606 -22 Oct 1690) in 1639. Southworth was the youngest child of Joseph Hamlin (20 Nov 1680 - 27 Aug 1766) and Mercy Howland (1678? - 1721). He married first Martha Howland (abt 1716 - 20 Sep 1756), a relation of his mother's; the Rev Mr Jonathan Russell officiated. They had no children. After Martha's death, he married Tabitha Atkins (1716 - 27 Nov 1770) on 12 May 1757 in Barnstable. Although the Hamlin men tended to be long-lived, he died 13 Jan 1766, at age forty-four.

2. Bethiah Hamlin (3 Jul 1758 - 1830) married Amaziah Doty (17 May 1756 - 24 Jan 1833), son of Ebeneezer Doty (abt 1727 - 23 Jul 1766) and Mercy Whiton (abt 1732 - abt 1763), on 3 Dec 1780 in Lee, Berkshire, Massachusetts.  

3. Stephen S Doty (24 Jul 1791 - 21 Oct 1870) was born in Lee, Massachusetts. He married Polly Holmes (1788 - aft 1860) in June 1813, at Madison, Madison, New York.

4. Alma Holmes Doty (9 Oct 1814 - 10 Oct 1879) was born In Madison, New York. She married Stephen Addison Davenport (20 Nov 1806 - Nov 1850), son of Williams Davenport  (12 Nov 1782 - 4 Dec 1830) and Hannah Hickok or Hickox (abt 1785 - 24 Aug 1809) in Aug 1835, at Madison, New York.

5.  Henrietta Davenport (Jan 1836 - May 1904) married Charles Swarts (12 Feb 1835 - 8 Jun 1909), son of John Swarts (28 Nov 1795 - 24 Oct 1874) and Mary McDonald (abt 1799 - 1893), in Wisconsin, in 1859. 

6. Ella Swarts (1862 - Apr 1899) was born and lived her entire life in Minnesota. She married Charles A Burnett (Feb 1856 - 17 Jan 1930), son of Nathaniel S Burnett (12 Mar 1826 - 10 Oct 1885) and Rachel Elizabeth Squire (28 Jan 1829 - 21 Apr 1902), in Scott County, Minnesota, September 1879.

7.  Alfred Nathaniel Burnett (19 Aug 1883 - 31 Jul 1959) married Jennie Arleta Eaton (14 Mar 1891 - 15 Apr 1979), daughter of Dor Henry Eaton (May 1869 - 31 Dec 1945) and Anna B A Miller (Jan 1867 - aft 1920), in Minnesota, in 1909.

8.  Leroy Stanley Burnett (31 Aug 1910 - 11 May 1980) married Hazel Lucille Erickson (6 Sep 1910 - 6 May 2002), daughter of Erick Albert Erickson (28 Aug 1864 - 27 Nov 1948) and Johanna Maria Svard 5 Feb 1875 - 28 Apr 1914), in Minneapolis, Minnesota, on 21 June 1933.

9. [Living] Burnett married Beverly Alane Brown (8 Aug 1934 - 7 Mar 2010), daughter of Dana Earl Brown (26 Jan 1910 - 10 Sep 1984) and Myrna Margaret Severin (5 Nov 1907 - 12 Jun 1997), in Long Beach, California, on 4 March 1961.

10.  Your humble blogger.

"...lightness and glee"

In this post we move from the sinister, sacred, and scientific of last time to simplicity and sisterhood: the Severin sisters of Fargo, North Dakota, circa 1930. One of those sisters would become my maternal grandmother: Myrna Margaret Severin.

Myrna Margeret Severin, 1930

My grandmother was born 5 Nov 1907, at least according to her Birth and Death Certificates. (Other documents list her birth date as the 6th.) She was born in Redfield, South Dakota, to Jack Severin, a tall Danish farmer, and Belle Runser; she was the youngest of their three daughters. She is nearly unique among my ancestors--going back to the late 1700s--in that three of her grandparents were immigrants: her father's parents, Jacob Soren Severin (31 Mar 1848 - aft 1920) and Anna Margrethe "Annie" Nissen (8 Dec 1851 or 2 - 2 Jan 1924) were Danish; her maternal grandfather, Phillip Jacob Runser (30 Jun 1845 - 22 Mar 1921) was from Hegenheim, in the Alsace-Lorraine region of France, on the border of Switzerland.

My grandmother with her grandfather; Myrna and Jacob Severin, c 1918?

Redfield itself was modest, and remains so. Founded in 1878, it was the County Seat for Spink County, located at the junction of two railroads; it was also the home of the Northern Hospital for the Insane (founded in 1902 and still running today under the more optimistic name South Dakota Developmental Center). Redfield did not achieve any real distinction until three pair of pheasants were released there, "near where the ethanol plant is currently," according to their Pheasantennial Celebration brochure--I kid you not.



Downtown Redfield--all of it--about the time the Severins lived there.

Since then, Redfield has prided itself on being the "Pheasant Capitol of the World" (so much so, that they have trademarked that slogan), and the pheasant has become the State Bird of South Dakota, one of just three states with a non-native species as such. The Pheasantennial occurred in 2008 (for any of you who were considering a trip), the release being in 1908, a year after my grandmother's birth and just a year or so before the Severins left Redfield for Crookston, Minnesota.



The Severins at  E Holmes Street, Redfield, South Dakota, c. 1908
From left: unknown dog, Jack, Gleva, Lee, Belle, Myrna.
 Not pictured: pheasant.

The Severins at that time were comprised of Jack and Belle, and their aforementioned three daughters. Eldest was Gleva Marcella (15 Jan 1904 - 4 Aug 1982), fair and wistful, or so she seems from photographs; next was Arletha Monica, (13 Jan 1906 - 22 Aug 2002) known always as "Lee," with luxuriant dark hair; she rarely smiled, at least to gauge from the childhood pictures I have seen. Next was my grandmother, always cheerful-seeming (although in pictures from her late teens she often looks to be attempting a dramatic or sultry visage). Their unusual names seem to reflect their background, a mashup of Scandinavian and French.

There was also a son, Delmar J[?], who was born in Sep 1909 and died within a few years. I know nothing more about him, and often wonder, if he had lived, how our family might have been different.


From left, standing : Lee (smiling!), Gleva, Myrna; seated: Delmar.

I wonder about Delmar in part because my mother's side of the family was (and is) the side I know best, and it was definitely a matriarchy, in form if nothing else. For most of my childhood (with occasional interruption from my father's side), I had always thought of our family as just “the three Severin sisters,” each with their one or two children, each of those children with just one, two, or three themselves. The sisters were close; when my grandparents moved west, the rest of the family followed. Their husbands had businesses together, and we saw everyone at least once a year, usually at Thanksgiving. While growing up, although close, with such a small family our get-togethers seemed-- if only in numbers--somewhat meager affairs. Perhaps if our forebears had been Catholic rather than Presbyterian, things might have turned out differently…. And certainly different if little Delmar had lived.

Anyway. In Minneapolis, my grandmother attended school, and in 1924 the Severins moved again, this time to Fargo, North Dakota, where they lived at 910 College St. My grandmother graduated from Fargo Public High School on 4 Jun 1925; her diploma mentions her Literary studies. The following year, the family moved again, this time to 1020 N Thirteenth St.

It was that same year,1926, that my grandmother began keeping a diary, inspired by the discovery of a diary her mother had kept when she was young. Apparently her sister Lee was keeping one as well, to better effect, as Grandma's peters out after just fourteen days--with lapses! "Whether or not mine will be read some time in the future with any interest or not time will tell." Indeed.

Only a few pages long, there is not a lot of information (it is a hot summer, the piano is moved, sister Gleva is away from home but writes often, Lee and Grandma spend a day canning "pickels"), and just one bit of drama: returning from Crookston, Minnesota in their horse and wagon, her parents are nearly hit by a freight car that has gone off the tracks.  Her "literary" side comes out briefly: Lee asks if the author of The Snob (a sensational novel--and silent film that Lee had seen--from 1924) is a man or a woman, and Grandma retorts, "neither--a birdie." She may have been a bit snobbish herself, as she writes that Lee is "foolish" for asking.  But otherwise, it is a nice, albeit brief, glimpse into her life, and did afford one pleasant surprise: she is reading a book of essays, From a College Window, by A C Benson, a prolific but now long-forgotten author from a family of such, whose novelist brother, E F Benson, has long been one of my favorites!

Myrna continued her education; she received a two-year teaching degree from Moorhead [Minnesota] State Teaching College in June 1927, and was teaching in Estelline, South Dakota.

The diary was more interesting, at least, than an autograph book given her in 1928, when she had moved out to attend college. It is signed by many of her friends as well as former pupils. Highlights of that document include the repeated use of the jingle:

"When you see a monkey up in a tree,
Pull its tail and think of me."

And the perhaps telling:

Dear Miss Severn,
Some right for money
Some right for fame
But I simply right
To sine my name.
your pupil,
Zola E---

Possibly despairing of teaching, Myrna began her graduate work, this time at North Dakota State College (now University), and by 1930 had moved back home.

The 1930 Fargo Directory

It was at this time that she became co-owner and proprietor, with her sister Gleva, of LaPetite Art Shoppe. It was located at 316 Broadway, next door to the Fargo Theater, which was built in 1926 and, fully-restored, is still in operation today. Alas, LaPetite does not appear to have lasted long, as it is gone by the 1932 edition of the directory. Beyond this, I have no other information, despite researching through some excellent Fargo websites (see links), but yearn to know more! 

The Fargo Theater marquee is visible in the upper left. La Petite Art Shoppe was next door.

It is not surprising to know that the sisters ran an art "shoppe." My grandmother's highest grades on her 1925 report card were in Music, Drawing, and Watercolor. The sisters made their own clothes--which was common at the time, of course--but took great pride in their work, as evidenced by the photos below. They even made wedding dresses for their friends, and Gleva was working as an instructor at the Singer Sewing Machine Company in 1934.


Grandma modelling some of her (or Gleva's) creations. There are also photos of Gleva wearing these same clothes.
 On the back of the center photo is pencilled "Virginia Snow patterns," and "WDAY", a Fargo radio station. Why?

More colorful creations. Left: What I hope is Halloween, with Lee and Gleva.
Right: Grandma between two drabber, unknown friends.

The directory page shown above also indicates that Lee has continued her love of movies, as she is working as an usher at the Garrick Theater, Fargo's first and most lavish picture palace, just two blocks down Broadway from LaPetite. The Garrick was later converted into a department store, and has since been demolished.

While in college, Myrna joined the Gamma Phi Beta sorority, and became very involved in social activities through school, serving on various committees and attending numerous dances. 

Some of Grandma's dance cards. Clockwise from the top:
Epsilon of Alpha Gamma Rho Spring Formal, Crystal Ball Room, May 7 1931;
 Beta Sigma Chapter of Kappa Psi Annual Spring Formal, Crystal Ballroom, May 20 1932;
 Senior Ball, Class of 1932, North Dakota State College, Crystal Ballroom, June 3 1932;
 15th Annual Military Ball, presented by M Company, 3rd Regiment, N Dakota State College,
Crystal Ballroom (did you expect anything else?), January 17, 1930.

 

Most of the dances were held at the Crystal Ballroom, the glamour spot of Fargo, hosting everyone from Lawrence Welk to, famously, Duke Ellington in 1940. From the dance cards, it appears the most noted name who performed when my grandmother attended was Bill Euren and His Collegians; Euren later was music director for NDSU from 1948 - 1968, and there is still an annual Music Fellowship given in his name.The ballroom itself occupied the upper floor of the Fargo City Auditorium, at the corner of First Avenue South and Broadway, not far from the Severins' home. The lower floor served as the National Guard Armory. Despite its dual-purpose functionality, it too was demolished, in 1962. 

Photo courtesy the Cass County Historical Society.

With my grandmother's stated aversion to pickels [sic], one wonders how she felt about the menu for the Spring Formal:

Fruit Salad       Water

Creamed Chicken on Rosettes

Potato Chips       Cucumber Pickles

Hot Buttered Rolls

Individual Washington Cream Pie

Coffee

Despite Fargo's big city trappings, its surroundings were still definitely rural. In a letter written for my grandparents' fiftieth anniversary, Myrna's lifelong friend and neighbor, Mabel Farden Nelson, shared memories:

All the good times on your farm, especially when we got snowed in and missed school. Your mom made corn fritters for us. Boy were they good!

...we couldn't wait to get to Aunt Polly's Slough for the first skating of the season.... When we returned there was a big "bread raiser" pan of popcorn.

How about the time the chickens roosted on top of Dad's Dodge--and when he started to drive off your folks yelled --Stop! Stop!

It was a long walk from M[oorhead] St[ate] C[ollege] to your home in Fargo. I guess we thought shoe leather was cheaper than streetcar fare.

How about the time we went "frogging" to get enough frog legs for Gleva to have the dinner party. We cried as we hit them with a stick cuz their front legs crossed like they were praying.

At any rate, it was not all frogging, art and gaiety; Myrna did graduate in 1934 with a Bachelor of Science, Education degree. By that point, she had also married my grandfather, and was expecting my mother, their first child. But that part of the story will have to be told another time....  

On the back of another snapshot from this day is pencilled: "Our Happy Family 1934"
Lee, Gleva, Myrna, and (from left) their husbands:
 Thor Moe, Kenny Richards, and Dana Brown.

Nature or nurture? The question is an old one, with proponents on both sides. Considering the Severin sisters, certainly it seems a little of both. Out of their fifteen descendants (through two generations), fully a third were or are teachers; three work in the film industry; one has a sewing blog in which a Singer machine has pride of place.... Certainly, the apples did not fall far from the trees.

And then there is your humble blogger, who, while neither teacher, sewist, nor filmmaker, is fascinated by it all.

"A man who reads at all, reads just as he eats, sleeps, and takes exercise, because he likes it; and that is probably the best reason that can be given for the practice.”
                                                                            From a College Window, A C Benson

Myrna Margaret Severin was born 5 Nov 1907 (according to her Birth and Death Certificates; other records say 6 Nov) in Redfield, Spink, South Dakota, to John Jacob "Jack" Severin (11 Jul 1878 - 2 Jan 1965) and Isabelle "Belle" Runser (21 Oct 1881 - 30 Mar 1960). On 21 Oct 1933 she married Dana Earl Brown (26 Jan 1910 - 10 Sep 1984), son of Clarence Edgar Brown (1 Dec 1878 - 21 Aug 1937) and Cora Mabel Kinman (4 Sep 1876 - 22 Aug 1958), in Minneapolis, Minnesota, at the home of Iza May (Kinman) Carlson, the groom's aunt. Rev Porter, a retired Presbyterian minister officiated. The following year, on 15 Jun 1934, Myrna graduated with a Bachelor of Science, Education, degree from North Dakota Agricultural College, and two months after that, delivered her first child. The Browns moved to Northern California the following year, where Myrna worked as an elementary school teacher. She continued to work as teacher after their move to Long Beach, California in the early 1950s. Although in almost perfect physical health, she died 12 Jun 1997 after enduring many years of Alzheimer's disease.

"logic and sermons never convince"

Although this post, like each of mine, is headed by a snippet from Walt Whitman, when I began to write this entry I was immediately reminded of another American poet: Robert Frost, and his famous "two roads diverged in a wood" bit. (Frost, coincidentally, lived for many years in Derry, New Hampshire, a town founded by--among others--my Steele ancestors, about whom I have written before).

The two roads of which I was reminded were not Frost's well-worn paths, however, but the often divergent ways of Science and Faith, a duo that seems in many ways particularly American and just as relevant today as they were one hundred years ago, the era concerning this post's subject: the contrasting lives of two cousins of mine, one on each side of my family.

On my father's side is Ada May Burnett, a second cousin, thrice removed; on my mother's side, Minnetta Amelia Ketchum, a first cousin, also thrice removed. The two share many superficial similarities: both the younger of two children; Ada May attended school through eighth grade, while Minnetta had one year of high school. Outliving their husbands by many years, both lived with lodgers after being widowed. Even their given names' initials are mirrored. But it is their differences that are the real story.

Minnetta Amelia Ketchum was born in 1865 in Ohio, but grew up on Mackinac Island in Michigan. After finishing the afore- mentioned year of high school, there is no record of what she did for almost twenty years, but on 24 Apr 1899, she married Frank Bursley Taylor.  

Frank Bursley Taylor

Taylor (23 Nov 1860 - 12 Jun 1938) was the only child of a prominent Indiana lawyer and politician, Robert Stewart Taylor, and his wife, Fanny Wright. Always in poor health, he attended Harvard University, focusing his studies on the sciences, in particular geology and astronomy, until illness forced him to leave the school. In his own words:

After leaving college in '86, spent about six years traveling and at health resorts in search of health. About '90 began to spend part of each summer studying glacial and post-glacial geology in the Great Lakes region.

His friend and school contemporary, R. C. Archibald, in an obituary of Taylor that appeared in Proceedings of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, Volume 75, Number 6 (1944), wrote:

It is not surprising that his attention was early called to Physiographic problems, so that when his health made indoor work harmful to him he took up... the study of the old shore lines, that surround the Great Lakes and are well marked on Mackinac Island, where he had a summer home, and from which he obtained his wife.

Archibald seems clearly more a scholar than romantic. Said wife was Minetta Amelia Ketchum, about whom another source writes: "She became his lifelong companion at home and on field trips, taking care of transportation, driving a team of horses or a car." Clearly, this former middle-class "spinster" committed herself to Taylor and a life of Science; no stay-at-home housewife she, which I find remarkable--and laudable--for its time.

Taylor himself continues:

I have been spending most of my time in summer seasons doing geological fieldwork. This has ranged from Minnesota to central New England, but has been chiefly in the southern peninsula of Michigan, in Ohio, New York, and western New England, with a considerable amount also in Ontario. The winters have been spent mainly in the preparation of reports, and in doing some other writing.

That "other writing" culminated in a paper he presented to the Geographical Society of America in 1908 (and later published in revised form in 1910), in which he first presented his ideas about what we now know as the theory of continental drift. His ideas met with continued skepticism and even mockery, even though just a few years later a German scientist, Alfred Wegener, was independently coming up with similar theories of his own. From being a prolific researcher and writer (among other things, he prepared what is still considered the authoritative study of Niagara Falls for the U S Geological Survey), Taylor published nothing from 1917 to 1920, trying instead to clarify and defend his radical idea.

It was not until almost fifty years later that Frank Bursley Taylor's (and Wegener's) theories became accepted. Ironically, despite Taylor's many other published works on everything from glaciers to the solar system, it is his--at the time--controversial scientific theory for which he is remembered, and grants his place--albeit a minor one--among other scientific pioneers. And as a footnote to his footnote, there is Minnetta Amelia Ketchum, whom even the unsentimental Archibald later conceded "helped him in many ways." They had no children, but left a rich scientific legacy.

Meanwhile.

Across the country in Maine, Ada May Burnett was born in 1865. She was no spinster, marrying her first husband, Reuel Sylvanus F Clement, a farmer, in 1894, when she was just seventeen. They had three children before his death of typhoid fever in 1901. In 1905 the family, including Ada May's mother-in-law, joined a religious cult, and in 1908....

What's that--you want to hear more about the religious cult? Well, then....

Frank Weston Sandford (October 2, 1862 – March 4, 1948) was the founder of what was first called the Holy Ghosts and Us Society, then the World’s Evangelization Crusade (among other names), eventually becoming known as The Kingdom, or Shiloh; but by any name, an early American religious cult. Sandford was a dynamic--even frenetic--and charismatic man from his earliest days, when he was both school president and captain of the baseball team. After attending college, he dropped out of seminary school upon hearing the word of God, to become an evangelical pastor. Although initially part of the Free Baptist and other evangelical movements, including those believing in the premillenial return of Christ, he left the church after what some consider a nervous breakdown. He travelled to Asia and the Middle East, then returned to America. As Shirley Nelson tells it:

With an imagination like a magnet for the powerful stream of passions in the 19th century church—perfectionism, world evangelism, end-time prophecy, and the messianic ideals of America itself—Sandford’s ministry took a turn in the late 19th century, when God, he claimed, began to speak to him in whispers. The first word was “Armageddon,” which he heard as a directive to establish a band of purified Christians, absolutely obedient to the Bible (as no other group or denomination yet was, he was convinced) to fulfill God’s plan for the ages with “signs, wonders and mighty deeds.”  He began this new work in southern Maine, with a tiny Bible school in a borrowed house. His first students, carefully selected men and women barely out of their teens, were to become the hard core of the special “band.” With funds “prayed in,” the school expanded quickly. A complex of buildings soon arose on a sand hill in the farming town of Durham, with the first structure, a chapel, called “Shiloh.”  Sandford’s messianic vision also continued to grow, and he announced that he heard a series of God-whispered revelations naming him the present day embodiment of the Old Testament David and the prophet Elijah returned.

Within a few years of its establishment in 1896, there were hundreds living at or near the Shiloh compound, generally whole families (including Ada May Burnett's), with more at a property Sandford acquired in Boston he named Elim, all living communally under God's--and Sandford's--watchful eyes.



The Shiloh grounds, c. 1901. The main chapel at left has been vastly expanded from the previous image above; the center building is "Olivet," the children's home; "Bethesda," the hospital is on the right. There were several other buildings on the property as well, which eventually comprised almost two square miles, including farmland.

Among other tenets of Sandford's movement: that he was not responsible for his actions, and demanded complete obedience from his followers, as he was acting on God's direction--after all, he was Elijah. More than once, there were "purges" at Shiloh, banishing disbelievers; followers encouraged to report on their neighbors, children regularly whipped if disobedient. There were hours of mandatory prayer and "meetings with God" daily. The whole of Thursday was spent fasting and in prayer, as Sandford believed this was the day of the week on which Christ was Crucified.

The group believed in faith-healing and the laying on of hands, rejecting all medical treatment. Sandford once claimed to have resurrected a young girl who had died from meningitis. Oddly, a hospital ("Bethesda") was built on the premises. Nelson again:

Doctors would be permitted at Bethesda for diagnoses and consultation, but no medication would be provided, not so much as a headache powder or a laxative. Care would be free. Bethesda would not be ' a resort for cranks,' Sandford warned. Cranks would find it 'the hottest place' they had ever been. Nor was it a house where cripples could come and 'camp' They must 'either get healed or go home.'
(Fair Clear and Terrible by Shirley Nelson, 1989, p. 122)

Sandford's followers were expected to reject money (after giving all of theirs, including whatever could be raised from the sale of their homes and belongings to The Kingdom), and not work for wages or to produce items for sale; they were to depend on God to provide for all their needs. Of course, they did work--at Shiloh: building, farming, cleaning.... The complex had its own cobblers and weavers, and even their own printing presses for preparing the numerous tracts and other publications they distributed.

Things continued apace until 1903, when Sandford had his first brush with the law. He was accused of manslaughter for the death of a young man from diphtheria who had not received any medical care. Although acquitted, the press vilified Sandford and attacked Shiloh, demanding more thorough investigations. Sandford's next message from God? He bought a yacht, and set sail for Jerusalem.

The Coronet, with Sandford joined by his inner circle, was going to "circle the world for Christ." Their intention was an ambitious one: not to actually land at any of the ports of call to establish missions or spread the word of God (or even Elijah), but anchor offshore and pray. This world cruise lasted nearly four years; on board, along with the crew and Kingdom members, was a taxidermist, and harpist--with harp.

Upon deciding to head home, Sandford was made aware that he was awaiting further legal trouble, so the "Coronet Company" stayed clear of ports, even through a gale. Not even landing for provisions (since God would provide...), it was not until six people on board died of scurvy and malnutrition that the remainder of the company forced Sandford ashore. This time, Sandford was convicted of manslaughter, and sentenced to ten years in prison. He accepted no legal counsel, saying only that the deaths were punishment from God for those who disobeyed his--Sandford's--wishes. The jury was out less than an hour.

It was during the Coronet period that Ada May Burnett and her family moved to Shiloh. Her son Lincoln was a popular boy, and when not praying or cutting wood or ice, was part of the Shiloh band.

Lincoln Clement and other students, c. 1914

The children, when not receiving religious instruction, praying (a minimum of three hours daily), scrubbing the steps of the seven story prayer turret or doing other chores, would often walk the grounds, or play croquet, despite a small pox outbreak, and near constant starvation. Nelson continues:

With the crusade on hold while their shepherd lived out his sentence, the Shiloh “flock” patiently endured hardship (and a World War) on their property in Durham, Maine. When he returned [after having been released for good behavior in 1918], haunted by death threats, Sandford moved with his family and most trusted workers to another property in Boston. It was during that time, while the Boston contingency fared well, that starvation took over in Durham, where “the Holy Ghost had been dethroned by a failure of faith and obedience,” as Sandford claimed.

What follows are excerpts from a remarkable document: the diary of Doris Hastings, a young woman of Shiloh. While only tangentially related to my family (although Lincoln Clement and his sister are mentioned), I think it is too compelling not to include, but feel free to skip ahead as you like. (My annotations are in bold; there are also occasional asterisked footnotes from her grandson, who preserved the diary.)

May 12 [1919] We went to the Bowie house at 9 and worshiped God and dedicated the house. I waited on the Lord. My head so bad I laid down and slept some. [Doris needed glasses, but was denied them.] Found Jesus very real at 3.

Friday, July 25 We received a long letter from Mr. Sandford about the 70 day battle.* The Bible School went to the turret and signed our names to paper up there and wrote a letter to Mr. S---a letter of response to the battle and loyalty and signed---"Yours forever".
* 70 days of prayer from 9 a.m. until midnight, with no break. Dinner was served after midnight. This 70 day prayer "battle" was to pay off the mortgage on the other house in Boston, 547 Mass. Ave.

Saturday, Aug. 2    A pint of milk for breakfast. A gem [little bits of bread with jam inside] brought to me which I give to Avis [her sister].... Nothing for supper. We get together after sunset and pray late into the evening. $2.oo comes from we know not where--wonderful--also some vegetables arrive, near midnight, from Mr. Marstaller's. David (Marstaller) hands them over by hand. I made some cornstarch pudding for John and Theodora. I had such a fight to get them to accept it. Theodora brought in her milk for me to drink after midnight.

Tuesday, Aug 12    My head is very, very bad. Suffering all forenoon, in 9 0'clock meeting and in Bible lesson---seemed unendurable. Bible School was together at 6. John brought in a bushel of peas and said that Mr. S had sent us $4.98. The 4 dollars got the peas and the 98 cents, a big bag of soy beans. Mr. Fenderson sent us some macaroni. We had a praise service. It seemed so wonderful. The God of Elijah.

Thursday, Aug. 21   Dear Mama comes over and she feels so bad because she forgot to bring some blueberries. Avis eats no breakfast. I eat a little--carrots and beet greens, but wish I hadn't because they make me so sick I have to ring turret bell to be relieved. Grace is suffering very much. I pray for her. Later in the day she seems better. Elsie is also suffering much. I go from one to the other in response to their calls but I am a poor comforter. We feel the need of John [Sandford, Frank's teenage son, who is running Shiloh at this time] so much. Grace gives me a sugar cookie. I fight with her because I can't bear to take it but she is so strong that I have to give in. I eat it after 3 and it helps me a lot. Mama gave Avis the biscuit that she brought over for her lunch. I feel relieved to see her get something into her. Mr. Hoad excuses her from meeting. She gets a birthday letter from Herbert which does her much good. Papa comes over in the evening [the Shiloh children live apart from their parents] and brings us string beans and blueberries. Dear papa and mama.

Sunday, Aug. 24    I took my piece of birthday cake and a biscuit Avis gave me and a hard boiled egg mama gave me and did them up and wrote a little note on the egg and took it to Fern (Brown). She is awfully thin and feeling poorly. I took a white gem left from Sabbath breakfast and my other egg and gave them to Etta.

Tuesday, Nov. 4    Bible lesson at 9 in rooms #1 & 2. Miss Dart [the children's matron] talked to us about believing in Jesus. We met again at 3. My work this week is the milk and lamps. And I fix many carrots. Sent Mama a big red apple by Avis today, my birthday present to her and an expression of love.

Wednesday, Nov. 19    I write a letter to Mr. S. There is no breakfast and no dinner. They send me a biscuit and a piece of cookie and some apple sauce in a.m. At noon a cup of cocoa and some squash and potato at night with a slice of white bread which I give to Etta. We have apples. I go to storehouse and get extra food. I have 2 cents and I get 2 cents worth of meal and make gems and give them to different ones.
Tuesday, Dec. 9    Avis feeling very bad. Goes home with Papa. Etta feeling very poorly. I go in and take her some blueberries that Benjamin had given me sabbath morning. Also half of my piece of meat we had sabbath. I go to turret from 6 to 8 and have quite a good time. I go into the chapel afterwards and come out suffering. Mr. McKennzie called me into the gallery today and spoke to me about the condition that people are in spiritually---hypnotized and dead, can't get through to God in meetings. He seems rather in need of courage. I Was suffering much and his words were depressing.

Thursday, Dec. 11    A very cold day. Heat is on during the 6 hours. I suffer very much in the Bible lesson (Mr. Hoad has it) and suffer afterwards. I am not able to wait on the Lord at all, just suffer through the hours until midnight. John sits up all the rest of the night preparing the Bible lesson. He sleeps a little. I go in and give him 2 cookies and an apple from Avis and me but he will not take it though I try very hard to make him do so.

Thursday, Jan 22 [1920]  No breakfast. I stayed in bed in the a.m. Bible lesson at 12. All the evening to ourselves. I went to Peniel and found God. We had some supper about 9. I lay down after that feeling unable to wait on the Lord any longer. Avis camed to bed after 10 and asked me to go to bed too and it seemed as though I might as well.

Friday, Jan. 23   Went home in the afternoon. I ate a lot of apples that evening. [There were apple orchards on the grounds, although followers were not allowed to pick fruit, but eat only the windfall.] I walked with Mr. Hoad most of the way to the Hastings. He told me that Sandford and Solomon were there so I did not stop.

Thursday, Jan. 29 The Bible School met at 9. We have quite a charge [a fervent, beseeching prayer meeting] for coal. Miss Dart comes in at 12. A matter of John's concordance being misused is a subject of a good deal of time and we write him a note of apology. Ora's birthday. We pray for her and talk about her. I suffer much through the day. Avis and I go home at night and papa and mama read to us until about midnight. I suffer fearfully with my head, etc. It seems more than I can endure to go on but thinking of what Mr. S has said about our lives being laid down and being martyrs and thinking of the man whom they stretched and when asked if he would give up he only said, "Father, I embrace all Thy holy will" enables me to endure what seems unendurable. It really is martyrdom and I feel as though I hadn't the strength to endure. My head too bad to pray and wait on the Lord at all. On our way over home John calls to us from his veranda and we go up and talk with him a few minutes.

Friday, Feb. 6   My head is so bad that I cannot hold it up. I rest it on a pillow during the lesson. Rich lesson--Moses 40 days on Mountain. we meet at 3 and pray for dear Anna--her birthday. We meet at sunset and after taking in the Sabbath we pray some more for her and talk about her. Her character seems wonderful to me as we talked and I covet what she has--that I seem to be so lacking in. Supper after that. I eat 4 small pieces of corn bread, 2 helpings of gravy, 2 small cookies and I suffer much distress from it into the night. I feel it must have been more than my stomach could handle and I must not eat so much again. When we go up from our supper I find john there. I go to bed, my head so bad I cannot longer succeed in holding it up....

Thursday, Feb. 12     Older members meet in the turret until 12. God meets us. My head paining so bad I come down about 11. My head pains very badly all day. In the evening Avis tells Miss Dart and she sends word for me to eat. Mary calls on me a few minutes. She is considering coming to the Bible School. She said her father thought it would be a help to her. She said I was next to her mother to her. Dear Papa comes in and finds me in bed. He puts his hand on my head and tells me he thinks I should eat something. My head pains fearfully all night. I hardly sleep at all. It seemed as though morning would never come.

Wednesday, Feb. 25    Turret from 6 to 8. Another suffering time. Lesson at 9 on Nazariteship and earnest prayers until we knew we were Nazarites, "as He is so are we---" and the Holy Spirit to work it out and lead us into the fullness of it. Mary Robinson's funeral at 1:30. A very stormy, drifty day. I feel so lonesome today, almost as if there was nothing to live for. Had a little breakfast after the Bible lesson.... My head very bad and do not feel able to pray but everything is all right.


Sandford and his family and intimates, upon his first visit to ShiIoh after his imprisonment, were fed a veritable feast, by followers who had not eaten in days. It was all very simple: God would provide. If God didn't provide, you must not deserve it, didn't believe enough, doubted Elijah's way. Things continued to get worse. Before his move to Boston, two of Sandford's own children escaped from Shiloh, casting more doubt.

The end of Shiloh came abruptly in 1920, following just days after another death. The family brought a suit against Shiloh, and the state sent in investigators, who demanded that all minors be removed from the premises immediately. Sandford received another message from God: the single word "work." Men left for local mills and farms. Within two months, the entire complex was deserted. Expected, it was--and still is--referred to as "The Scattering."

So now that you know about that, let me continue my family history: ...in 1908 Ada May Burnett remarried, this time to another cult member, Burnham Wheeler Hardy (31 July 1857 - 25 Dec 1925). After the death of his first wife, Gertrude E Emerson (16 Mar 1868 - 28 Oct 1906), herself a longtime Kingdom member (but who apparently did not live on the grounds), Hardy sold his successful hardware business in Hampden Maine and joined Shiloh in late 1907.



Hardy's hardware store is on the extreme left, c 1905.

Although it is unclear why Ada May Burnett first became attracted to The Kingdom and what prompted her to move to Shiloh, the family had involvement with The Kingdom as early as 1899, when

"Mr George Higgins, the minister in charge of Shiloh when Mr Sandford was away in Jerusalem.... had been tarred and feathered in Arrostock County a few years back for preaching Shiloh Principles, so the story went."
(Fair Clear and Terrible by Shirley Nelson, 1989, p. 187)

Shiloh records confirm this in a 1917 member roster discovered in a vault. After Ada May's name is the note: "First husband Ruell [sic] S. F. Clement from whose house G. W. Higgins taken by mob in 1899."

It is also unclear exactly what Ada May Burnett Clement Hardy did after The Scattering; she lived another twenty-eight years, yet never moved from Durham. It would be fascinating to know how she and the others adjusted and what they felt about their time with The Kingdom.

We do know a few facts about the rest of the family. Mother-in-law Anna T Fogg Clement died of a cerebral hemorrhage less than six months after The Scattering. Daughter Dorothy Anna Clement died just three years later at age twenty-six, followed soon after by Burnham Wheeler Hardy, who is buried with his first wife. Son Phillip John Clement did not marry until 1938; he and his wife Clara had no children of their own (although she had two from a previous marriage). The most recent record I could find for him was a Sanford Maine City Directory from 1963, the same year his older brother, Lincoln Edmond Clement died. Lincoln seems to have lived the most "normal" post-Shiloh life, marrying Florence Ina Smith (22 Apr 1898 - 17 May 1973)--who seems to have no connection with Shiloh--in 1921, just a year after The Scattering; they had four children. They continued to live in Durham, in the almost literal--if not metaphoric--shadow of Shiloh for many years.



All that remains of Shiloh's grounds today. It is still used as a church.

And what of Frank Sanford? He retired--per the word of God, of course--and disappeared into virtual seclusion in the Catskill Mountains of New York. He farmed, prayed and taught, read astronomy (perhaps something by Frank Bursley Taylor?), lost all of his books and papers--twice!--to fire, and continued to have a small, loyal following until his death in 1948. He is not known ever to denied he was Elijah, or repent for the many deaths he had--directly or otherwise--caused.

The Kingdom continued, on an even smaller scale, under the leadership of Sandford's secretary, Victor Abram, until it was revealed that he had had many extra-marital affairs; in 1977 Abrams' son-in-law took over. There are estimated to be about one hundred active members of The Kingdom to this day, scattered throughout the United States.

Science or Faith? Although a hundred years after the choices of Minnetta Amelia Ketchum and Ada May Burnett, we find many still traversing one--or the other--of those same two roads.

For more information on Frank Bursley Taylor, especially his scientific research:
http://www.encyclopedia.com/topic/Frank_Bursley_Taylor.aspx
And an invaluable and exhaustingly comprehensive website about Shiloh and its history:
http://www.fwselijah.com/


[Our Minnetta--whose name is just as frequently spelled Minetta--is not to be mistaken with Miss Minetta Taylor, her contemporary, who also lived in Indiana. Miss Taylor was the daughter of Drs. George and Mary Taylor; while not a doctor, she was quite accomplished nonetheless. The souvenir pamphlet Proceedings of the Fifth Annual Convention (Western Writers' Association, 1890) tells us that after  Annie J. Fellows Johnson "charmed her hearers with her rhythmic rendering of a tender retrospective poem of rural life," Miss Taylor, "prevailed upon at the last moment..., won the laurels of the convention by an elegant impromptu address on 'The Natural Stimuli of the Imagination,'" which synopsis, "prepared... by memory by Miss Taylor," runs seven dense pages. Not to be outdone, Weik's History of Putnam County, Indiana (1910) reminds us that Miss Taylor "is the joint author of six Spanish-English textbooks..., a regular contributor to the McClure syndicate..., spent seven years on the lecture circuit on literary and sociological subjects..., [and] speaks forty-five languages."

There is, alas, no record of a second Ada May Burnett.]

Minetta Amelia Ketchum was born 2 Jul 1865, in Huron, Erie, Ohio, to George Cherry Ketchum (3 Dec 1835 - 3 Sep 1899) and Amelia Lloyd McLaurin (Nov 1842 - 3 Apr 1914). She grew up on Mackinac Island, her father being a sailor (and later a post-master); an uncle ran a resort hotel on the island as well. She attended school through her first year of high school, although what occupied her for the next eighteen years, until her marriage at age thirty-three to Frank Bursley Taylor (23 Nov 1860 - 12 Jun 1938), son of Robert Stewart Taylor (22 May 1838 - 28 Jan 1918) and Fannie W Wright (30 Aug 1938 - 10 Mar 1913) on 24 Apr 1899, is unknown. The following year, the newlyweds moved to his home town of Fort Wayne, Indiana, living first with his parents, and then, by 1910, in a house of their own at 548 Home Ave. By 1916 they are at 2905 Fairfield Ave; in 1930, 420 Downing Street; all of these houses are within a few blocks of each other. Minetta lived fifteen years beyond Frank's death; she died on 25 Aug 1953.


Fittingly, Frank and Minetta's memorial is a natural rock, unlike the conventional headstones
 found elsewhere in Lindenwood Cemetery, Fort Wayne, Indiana.  Photo: Jim Cox

Ada May Burnett was born in May 1877, in Hermon, Penobscot, Maine, to Daniel G Burnett (abt 1847 - ?) and Lucinda C Walker (Dec 1852 - 10 Jun 1920). On 8 Jun 1894, she married Reuel (or Ruel) Sylvanus Clement (28 Apr 1873 - 7 Mar 1901), son of Edmond Clement (13 Dec 1838 - 5 Jun 1889) and Anna T Fogg (25 Apr 1847 - 18 Nov 1920); they had three children in the next six years, the last just seven months before Reuel's death from typhoid fever. In June 1905, Ada joined Shiloh, and on 3 Feb 1908 she married another member, Burnham Wheeler Hardy (31 Jul 1857 - 25 Dec 1925), son of Abel Hardy (30 Nov 1803 - 22 Sep 1871) and Rebecca P Edgerly (9 Mar 1816 - 15 Aug 1898). Burnham had joined Shiloh in 1907, although his first wife, Gertrude E Emerson (16 Mar 1868 - 28 Oct 1906), had formerly been a member of The Kingdom. After Shiloh was disbanded in 1920, Ada May continued to live in Durham, Maine until her death in 1948. She shares a headstone with her mother-in-law, daughter, and a grandson, all of whom she outlived.




Although Shiloh had its own cemetery, this is the last resting place
 for some of The Kingdom's followers.
Lunt Memorial Cemetery, Brunswick, Maine.  Photo: IHRP & Family