Sunday's Obituary - Magdalina

Mrs. Crouch, 93, Dies at LeMars on Jun. 23, 1851
Civil War Veteran's Widow Came to U. S. in Sailing Vessel

LeMars, Ia.--Special--: Mrs. Magdalena Crouch, widow of the late Andrew W. Crouch Civil War veteran, who would have been 94 years old June 23, died Sunday morning here at the home of a daughter, Mrs. Harold Pew, after suffering a stroke Saturday night.  She was the daughter of Mathias Roesch and Magdalina Jehle.

Mr. Crouch, who was the last surviving member of the Grand Army of the Republic post here, died in January shortly before his 96th birthday.

Mrs. Crouch was born June 23, 1851, in Aachen, Germany. She came to the United States at the age of 5 in a sailing vessl with her parents, who settled in Wisconsin.

On September 15, 1871, she was married to Mr. Crouch at Potosi, Wis. The following year they homesteaded 10 miles north of Sioux City in Plymouth county, where they resided until 1901 when they retired and moved to LeMars.

Funeral services will be held at 2:30 p.m. Tuesday in the Methodist church in LeMars, Rev. J.J. Share will officiate. Burial will be in the LeMars cemetery. Her grandsons will be pallbearers.

Survivors are a son, O. W. Crouch, Hinton; five daughters, Mrs. C. C. Hauff, Merrill; Mrs. H. Van Dyke, Sioux City; Mrs. W. F. Douglass, Hampton, Ia; Mrs. A. C. Lemon, Moscow, Idaho, and Mrs. Pew of LeMars; three half brothers, Otto, Charles, and August Roesch, all of Lancaster, Wis.; 19 grandchildren, 19 great grandchildren and a great great grandchild.

Four grandsons and three grandsons-in-law are in the military service. They are Lt. (jg) Dean Lemon and V-12 Student Ralph Lemon, both in the Navy; Maj. Guy H. Todd in France; S. Sgt Richard Pew in England; Sgt Donald Douglass in Pacific area; Pfc. Richard Stillinger and Raymond Hodapp, both in the United States. S. Sgt. William E. Bergman, a great grandson-in-law, was killed May 29, 1944 in Italy.

Magdalina and Andrew Crouch

celebrate their 70th wedding anniversary

with their children

Wednesday Child - Milton Otto Roesch

Milton was born on October 15, 1902 in Milwaukee, Wisconsin to Otto Roesch and Mary Belle Pierce.  Sadly, Milton died on July 5, 1908 at the age of six.  He is buried in Hillside Cemetery, Platteville Grant County Wisconsin.

Sentimental Sunday - What Makes Me Me

I can't help but become sentimental when it comes to uncovering the secrets that lead to who I am.

Where did that strawberry blonde hair come?  Why do I rub my two fingers together?  Who was left-handed in the family that I take after?  Why does my sister have thick hair and I have thin hair?  What about those idiosyncrasies?  Where in heaven’s name did those come from?

It’s fun to locate pictures of our ancestors, but those pictures are black and white and leave much to the imagination or yet to be discovered.   Certainly no home movies were left behind to validate information.  We can only rely on what an elder in the family remembers or what we find in more current cousins that we meet along the way. 

Only through meticulously researching the past are we able to uncover those long hidden secrets.

Let’s start at the beginning.  I have two children, a son and a daughter that have red hair.  In the winter it is quite auburn but in the summer it lightens up to a more of a strawberry blonde.  My mother’s side of the family had red hair and I always assumed that was where it came from.  My husband’s mother was adopted.  Her birth mother died of TB at a very young age.  After researching his maternal birth grandmother’s side of the family we actually met some of his cousin, who much to our surprise had strawberry blonde hair.  We also discovered from the adoption papers that his material grandmother was a southpaw.  My husband was born left-handed but was trained to use his right hand.  Today he is ambidextrous.  Our daughter with the strawberry blonde hair is also left-handed. 

Strange how I rub my first and second fingers together, especially when riding in a car.  Never really paid much attention to it until others pointed it out.  Come to find out my dad peformed this habit on a daily basis, and his father before him.  Recently I discovered I have a daughter who also inherited this feat.

These are just a few of the miracles of DNA that I have uncovered.  What can you find?

Names, dates, and places are the first things we discover.  Then we find pictures and cousins along the way, sometimes simultaneously.  Then the personal side of what makes us who we are. Who we look like, the talents, personality, traits and habits we inherit that make us who we are, are some of the most fascinating discoveries of all.

Accepted At Last

The Florida Historical Society's main office is located in the old Post Office in Cocoa Village, Cocoa, Florida.   I remember going into the post office with my grandmother as a child.  It is a big impressive building. 

My mother donated some old photographs of the Cocoa and Eau Gallie area.  They asked her to write about her life as she remembered it which they published.  She was a Roesch afterall.  Now my family history was beginning to intrigue me.  Inside the front entrance of the FHS hangs a plaque with my mother's name engraved upon it.  My sisters and I were happy to make this happen for her to leave a lasting memory of her existence to the history of this area.

When I became interested in genealogy, every March while in Florida visiting, I spent time in this formidable building asking questions, sharing information and researching my Roesch history.  Every visit starting with the first visit frustrated me to no end.  Sometimes, I hate to admit, it really made my blood boil and my hair would stand on end.  I never felt welcomed and was made to feel intellectually inferior when it came to my family history.  Seems they thought they knew more than I did, especially when they told me I was pronouncing my family name Roesch incorrectly.  If you were to ask my husband he would tell you I embarrassed him on more than one occasion, most likely half-a-dozen times.  I just couldn't help myself, this was important to me.  Assuredly they weren't looking forward to my visit every March, but they were always gracious and I tried, I really tried to be polite. 

It was in March of 2008 that I stopped in for a last visit prior to my book, "Forever Laced" being completed for publication.  Two very important things happened.  First, Ben DiBiase, the Educational Resources Coordinator brought out a file box from the archives. He untied the cover and to my surprise lifted out correspondence my grandfather had written in 1932. The letters were found in the Roesch House in Eau Gallie that the FHS now owns and is part of the Rossetter Museum.  These letters along with responses were very important to see.  It put his life story into perspective for it showed how hard he was trying to find work during the depression.   

Then the man who always seemed to me to be a know-it-all, who refused to believe how to pronounce my family name walked in.  He sat at the table with us and asked in the softest voice I had ever heard him speak, "What was the relationship between your grandfather, William Philip Roesch and John McAllister?" I had uncovered his name and the relationship while researching the history of the Roesch family and felt quite satisfied to tell him, John was my grandfather's uncle.  This was a question, he as a genealogist hadn't been able to discover.

The following year I returned with books in hand and donated two for their library. This time I was made to feel truly welcomed and treated with respect.  I was surrounded by those I had spoken with for so many years asking me of all people questions about the Roesch family and how it related to the history of Eau Gallie.  Finally, I felt accepted as one of their own.  I'm home at last.  And by the way, he now pronouces the name correctly, Ray-shh.

As a final note, my great grandfather, William Russell Roesch was the founder of the newspaper named the Eau Gallie Record.  I was able to convince his grandson, my uncle Clyde, that the collection of newspapers, some over 100 years old now in his custody, should be donated to the Florida Historical Society for safe keeping before they completely disintergrate. 

Ben DiBiase accepted these newspapers , 'Eau Gallie Record', 'Melbourne Times' and the 'Cocoa Tribune' stating in his letter written August 14, 2012, "Again, I want to thank you for making this donation possible,  these papers will be of great use to researchers in the future.  In fact, I have already received research requests from people who are interested in the history of Eau Gallie and would like to see these newspapers. He graciously included two CD's with digitally scanned copies of the newspaers, one for me, and one for my uncle.  Now we can enjoy these for a lifetime.

Treasure Chest Thursday - The Radio & Edgar Allen Poe

It was 1972 we were living in Concord, New Hampshire.  I was a housewife raising four children the youngest only twelve months old.  I loved listening to the radio as I went about doing the things that a young wife and mother do around the house.  No time to sit and watch TV but the radio was always on.

Being a lover of books, especially old books, something being announced on the radio caught my attention .  Someone was selling five books containing ten volumes about Edgar Allen Poe.  The asking price was $25, a rather hefty sum for us at the time where every nickle counted, but I couldn't resist.

I made the call to the woman who was selling them and told her I would be by later that day to purchase them.  That afternoon I collected my treasure and brought them home. 

Later that evening, after the children were bathed and put to bed, I sat down with my new purchase  and examined them with great care.  Some of the pages had never been slit apart so you couldn't see what was written in between.   Whomever owned these books not only loved Poe but loved poetry in general.  It was also clear that he loved distinguished American Literati.  A chapter in the book gives information about many authors that includes a sample of their handwriting.

The book had every story and poem that Poe had ever written.  To my surprise, inside each book were many newspaper clippings mostly about Poe but some of other poets as well who all mention Poe in one way or another.  One clipping read: "Author of 'Curfew Must Not Ring Tonight' Dies; aged 89", (1939) Rose Hartwick Thorpe, victim of heart attack. 

The oldest newspaper clipping I found was dated 1918.  "Hard Work Wins", Sir Fredrick Taves, a noted British Surgeon, said that hard work counts far more than brilliancy.  Brilliancy, like genius, is an accident.  It is born, not made. The world would be a dull, flat plane intellectually if it did not throw up brilliant people.  Hard work would never have given us Shakespeare, Beethoven, Keat, Heine, Poe, of Shelley. Woe to them who expect brilliancy alone to give them the success that is worthy and enduring.

Poe was a struggling writer whos works were rejected again and again but he worked hard and persevered.  In 1933 an article "Poe in an Informal Mood" stated, Poe was very far from being the stark, solemn, unsmiling figure that so many picture him.  he could even laugh at himself.  When he had won the hundred dollar prize in 1833, and Mr. Latrobe, one of the committee of award, asked the unknown young writer what else he had for publication, he replied that "he was engaged on a voyage to the moon".  He then apologized for his excitability, which he laughed at himself.

All that I find, all that I see, all that read, not only puts Poe into a previously unknown perspective for me, but also gave me information on all the other brilliant writers of that time.  I'm so glad I was listening to the radio that day.

Team Member Nomination

Thank you to Bettyann Schmitt for nominating my blog for the Wonderful Team Member Readership Award.  She may be fairly new to the world of blogging but she is most definitely off to a roaring start. 
http://rhinegirl.blogspot.com/2013/01/ive-been-nominated.html  I most certainly enjoy reading her blog and appreciate the articles that she shares with us all.  As she states, we learn from each other.

Members of the Geneabloggers nominate other members who have followed their blogs, leaving comments, and in general supporting their fellow bloggers.



According to the rules, I've got a whole week to nominate other members. But it won't take me that long.  This person has been writing a blog for some time now.  What makes her stand out is that she is one of the first to jump in to be a good Samaritan, to which I have been on the receiving end.

Annmare Novick - Skipping Down Memory Lane http://genealogymemorylane.blogspot.com/

I also nominate this person for her energetic entusiasm.

Bettyann Schmitt - http://rhinegirl.blogspot.com

Surprise! I Have Been Honored!

Genealogist and blogger Heather Wilkinson Rojo left me a surprise message this morning with “I have nominated you for Blog of the Year 2012 Award” .  Here is a link to her post: http://nutfieldgenealogy.blogspot.com/2013/01/surprise-ive-been-honored.html

The rules for this award can be found here at this link:

http://thethoughtpalette.co.uk/our-awards/blog-of-the-year-2012-award/

When you begin you will receive the ‘1 star’ award – and every time you are given the award by another blog – you can add another star!  Thank you Heather.  I enjoy reading her blog.   She has been actively engaged in genealogy for over 30 years and is involved with many genealogical societies.  Recently we discovered family connections which is always fun to uncover.

There are other rules for the Blog of the Year award:

   1.       Select the blogs you think deserve the Blog of the Year 2012 Award

   2.       Write a blog post and tell us about the blogs you have chosen – no minimum or maximum number of blogs required- and present them with the award

   3.       Please include a link back to this page http://thethoughtpalette.co.uk/our-awards/blog-of-the-year-2012-award/ and include these rules in your post (please don’t alter the rules or the badges!)

   4.       Let the blogs you have chosen know that you have given them this award and share the ‘rules’ with them.

   5.      You can now join the Facebook group – click ‘like’ on this page ‘Blog of the Year 2012’ Award Facebook group and then you can share your blog with an even wider audience.

   6.     As winner of the award- please add a link back to the blog that presented you with the award- and then proudly display the award on your blog and sidebar… and start collecting stars.

     There are so many wonderful blogs to choose from that I enjoy reading. Everyone works hard to put their best foot forward with the stories that they share, some easy, some hard, some very personal.  I thank them all for enlightening my days.  Now I pay this honor forward to the following:   

    

  1.  Midge Frazel - Granite in My Blood http://granite-in-my-blood.blogspot.com/

  2.  Kathy Gosz - Village Life in Kreis Saarburg Germany  http://19thcenturyrhinelandlive.blogspot.com/

  3.  Shelley Bishop - A Sense of Family http://www.asenseoffamily.com/

  4.  Jacqi Stevens - A Family Tapestry http://afamilytapestry.blogspot.com/

  5.  Heather Wilkinson Rojo -NutfieldGenealogy http://nutfieldgenealogy.blogspot.com/
  6. Marian Burk Wood - Climbing My Family Tree http://climbingmyfamilytree.blogspot.com/

     

Those Places Thursday - Hey, Good Buddy

I'm taking you back to the early 1970's, the days of disco, flared pants, floral shirts, black and white television and the CB Radio. 

We owned a green station wagon with beautiful blonde wood adorning both sides of the car.  It was a pretty big car; they don't make them like that any more.  Seats belts hadn't yet been invented and our kids could climb over the seats and settle into the back with pillows and blankets. 

Once when returning home from an over-night trip my five children, I only have four but am counting my husband here, when a camping ground was spotted with a stream running through it.  I was begged by all to p-l-e-a-s-e stop and camp there.  Being outnumbered what is a person to do but to say yes. 

My three girls and I huddled way in the back of that green station wagon where the full moon kept me awake all night.  My husband and son slept outside near the stream when a surprise visitor arrived, by the name of skunk, sniffing my son up and down. Horrified, my husband prayed his son would not move.  Whew, all's well than ends well, but it did get into our picnic basket.

Many of you already know I grew up traveling to Florida the first two weeks in July to visit my maternal grandparents, because that is when my dad got his vacation time. We drove down route #1 reading all the South of the Border and Burma Shave signs.  But now as a married woman with four children we decided to drive down caravan style, with my parents in the lead.  Having done this for so many many years, they knew the way like the back of their hand. 

To be able to communicate we both installed CB radios prior to our departure.  Naturally we had to have names, we were called Green Dragon, and they were Yellow Bird because they drove a yellow Mercury.  It worked great and we certainly got the hang of it quickly. 

There were always truckers on the road, it seemed like every other vehicle was an eighteen-wheeler.  And, every one of them had a CB. Sometimes we would get stuck between two of these meaning you were in the cradle.  You always knew when there was a sheriff down the road because they would announce, "Hey good buddy, County Mountie spied just past exit 82".  Or, hey good buddy, smokey (state police) up ahead giving out gifts ( tickets).  Then once in awhile you would hear a female voice break in attempting to entice a trucker to her stop. Oh my!  We heard a trucker respond and she replied, " Too late, you've already gone by me".  Happy my children were too young to understand.

The CB radio was used for emergencies like a potty stop, flat tire, potty stop, to get gasoline, or a potty stop.  What can I say we had four kids. Mom slept most of the way so dad kept driving despite the fact it was way past lunchtime.  It was only when we saw my mother's head pop up off the pillow that rested against the window that we would stop to eat.  No wonder dad wouldn't stop for lunch, he was trying to make up time.  Thank goodness we had a cooler on the back seat floor with cold drinks and a few snacks to tide us over.

The CB radio of its day made a rather long drive a fun one. Those days are long gone, filed away in history leaving me with wonderful memories that become more precious as time goes by.

Amanuensis Monday - Rev John Lothrop



My 9th Great Grandfather

 "John Lothrop was baptised in Etton, 20 Dec. 1584 and came to New England. He entered first Christ Church, College, Oxford for according to Foster's "Alumni Oxonienses" John Lothroppe of Yorkshire aged sixteen years, was admitted a pleb of Christ Church 15 Oct. 1602. Thence he went to Cambridge, where according to Venn's Alumni Cantabrigienses, John  was baptised at Etton, Yorkshire, 20 Dec. 1584.


"Rev. John Lothrop soon located in Egerton, 48 miles southeast from London, as curate of the parish there. To this living he was appointed about 1611 by the Dean and Chapter of St. Paul. It was probably his first and only parish charge as a minister of the English Church. Here Mr. Lothrop labored faithfully as long as his judgement could approve the ritual and government of the Church. But when he could no longer do this, we find him conscientiously renouncing his orders and asserting the right of still fulfilling a ministry to which his heart and his conscience had called him."

"Accordingly in 1623 his decision was made and he espoused the cause of the Independents. For being independent in thought he was arrested 22 Apr. 1632 and put in jail, along with a group of 24 others. In the old Clink prison, in Newgate, and in the Gatehouse, there men lingered for months. In the Spring of 1634, all but Mr. Lothrop were released on bail; he, their leader, the chief offender, was deemed too dangerous to be set at liberty."

"During the time he was in prison, a fatal illness was preying on his wife and bringing her fast to her end. Her name was Hannah House. "In New England's Memorials" by Nathaniel Morton, published in 1669, he says -- "His wife fell sick, of which sickness she died. He procured liberty of the bishop to visit his wife before her death, and commended her to God by prayer, who soon gave up the ghost.

At his return to prison, his poor children, being many, repaired to the bishop at Lambeth and made known unto him their miserable condition by reason of their good father's being continued in close durance, who commiserated their condition so far as to grant him liberty, who soon after came over unto New England".

"He embarked for Boston with about 30 of his church and arrived there September 18, 1634, in the ship "Griffin" the 27th of the same month he proceeded with his friends to Scituate, MA. The Lothrop Bible was brought to America aboard the “Griffin” in 1634 by the Reverend John Lothrop, who became one of Barnstable’s first ministers and a famous preacher. During the voyage, while at evening devotions, the Reverend Lothrop spilled hot candle wax on the open book which burned through several pages, causing holes about the size of a shilling.  Before landing, he carefully repaired most of the damaged paper and filled in the missing text from memory. A few of the holes in the pages remain."  (The Bible is on display at the Barnstable Library.)

"On reaching Boston  he found already the preparations begun to welcome him to a new home in Scituate.  He settled at Scituate, was granted a farm and is where he started a church and Barnstable, being the first minister who preached at either place."

"Before 14 June 1635 he had taken a second wife. She was Anne Hammond, daughter of William Hammond, of Lavenham, England and Watertown, Mass.; she was baptised in Lavenham 14 July 1616." (I follow their son Barnabas.)

Barnstable Home/Library

While there differences arose between him and the people on the question of baptism and he removed to Barnstable, where he had a house lot granted him. He died in Barnstable 8 Nov. 1653.

Children of Rev. John Lothrop and Hannah House (second generation);--
i. Jane, bp. 29 Sept. 1614 ; m. Samuel Fuller.
ii. Anne, bp. 12 May 1616 ; d. 30 Apr. 1617.
iii. John, bp. 22 Feb. 1617/8 ; d.y.
iv. Barbara, bp. 321 Oct. 1619 ; m. John Emerson.
v. Thomas, b. ; m. Sarah (Larned) Ewer, widow.
vi. Samuel, b. ; m. Elizabeth Scudder.
vii. Joseph, b. ab. 1624 ; m. Mary Ansell.
viii. Benjamin, b. ; m. Martha ________.
In Scituate, by second wife, Anne Hammond:--
+ ix. Barnabas, bp. 6 June 1636 ; m. Susanna Clark.
x. ______ child ; d. 30 July 1638, inf.
In Barnstable, by second wife, Anne Hammond:--
xi. Abigail, bp. 2 Nov. 1639 ; m. James Clark
xii. Bathsheba, bp. 27 Feb. 1641 ; m. Alexander Marsh.
xiii. John, bp. 9 Feb. 1644 ; m. Mary Cobb.
xiv. _______ child, b. 25 Jan. 1649 ; d. inf.

Rev. John Lothrop is an accepted ancestor for the Society of Colonial Dames - "Lothrop, Rev. John (1584-1653) Scituate and Barnstable, Mass. Queen's College, Cambridge, A.B. 1606, A.M. 1609. Minister at Scituate 1634-1639; and at Barnstable 1639-1653."

Sympathy Saturday - Of Christmas Past

Kathryn Smith Lockhard

I can’t help but get a little sentimental over the Christmases of yesterday.  It brings back the memories of being a child excited about all the bright presents under the tree with my name on them.  Bright colorful paper and bows that just delighted my eyes and tickled me down to my toes.

It was a great time, Christmas Eve gathering together with all my aunts, uncles, and parents, too.  Cousins, there were many, and we filled the room as we sat on the floor with legs folded.  The gifts were passed out by the oldest of children who could read and be the most responsible not to drop perhaps a breakable gift.

When it came time to open the presents we had to wait our turn for tradition dictated the order was from the youngest child to the oldest adult.

At the end of the evening my parents would load the car with all the loot my sisters and I received. On the ride home we watched the heavens for Santa and his reindeer.  Almost always we just knew we saw him.

Christmas morning the number one rule was to run to my mother and get her out of bed. She wanted to be part of watching her children’s delighted faces when we spied our gifts located beneath our stockings.  We could always count on finding an onion in our stockings.  It meant we had to try harder to be good during the next year.

I had turned 13-years-old, that September and it would be the last year I believed in Santa. Sad that childhood years end so quickly.  But that final Christmas when I believed, I told my mother I wanted tangerine lipstick.  She told me I was too young for lipstick.  But come Christmas morning in my stocking guess what I found.  You guessed it, tangerine lipstick.  I exclaimed to my mother, “ See, Santa thinks I’m old enough.”