Apologies and Reporting

I have been absent as of late. Not because I have lost my love and zeal for genealogy and blogging, rather, I have not learned to balance family and genealogy research.  It seems for me it is almost an all or nothing activity. I will share with you the past few months of my life. 

I worked with the Preserve the War of 1812 Pensions campaign for 3 years.  I loved the purpose and the activity of searching the files and finding living descendants.  When the funding was accomplished, my activity there was little needed, and I turned to other projects.

At the same time, my children decided they and their children needed equal time with me and this is a bit of my journey into creating family history with my grandchildren and as I have written about before, bridging the generations.

During the summer, we had our first family reunion.  This was important for those who could go because family had not gathered as a unit since my husband, their father, died in 2008.  All but two of 6 children could make it. The single son who was working and a daughter who was pregnant and expecting her 4^th child any minute.  There were 28 plus myself, who made it. Two grandchildren were working and could not attend. Since no one other than myself had ever visited the California family’s home, that was the focus. They planned 4 days of activities for the children and I was excited that they included some time for themselves. 

The trip started with my 20-year-old grandson and I leaving Texas and driving to Salt Lake to meet the Idaho family whose father was flying in. They needed to send one child with me as their car only seated 7 and they had 8 with dad. The connecting 3 different groups at the Salt Lake terminal was a story. The trip from Salt Lake to California and then back to Idaho was an awesome memory for my three grandchildren and me.

In California, we went to the Sequoia Forest, the beach, and learned about railroads going over the mountain grades. The young and new grandchildren were able to create relationships with the older ones. These are a couple of pictures from that family activity.

Once back at home, the two daughters in Texas decided since I had taken time from my genealogy activities for this, I must be up for grabs for activities at home. The Idaho daughter not to be out done scheduled every Monday in September for a Skype class on World War II ending in a lesson and stories about their great grandfather who served and I have written stories about him here.

The classes were successful, and one Texas grandson sat in on a lesson.  At the time I was not sure who was listening, but as the months go by, questions and statement tell me they were. One of the grandson’s chose to be his great grandfather for Halloween, dressed up like a WWII army soldier.  Cool right. History and family stories passed down two generations. I also helped with the Black Watch Costume and made the sporan for that grandchild. One is Pipi Longstocking and one is a Nerd... they LOVE reading. 

I went with another daughter to see the preview for Christmas lights at the Houston Zoo.  We took one of my other daughter’s children with us. There was fun, sharing, and memories made with young and old.

This week I went to a Civil War reenactment at the TexasLiendo plantation that served first as a Confederate headquarters, then when it fell, as a Union prison camp.

My grandson, who is 10, began trying to sort in his mind who and what generation of his family served in the Civil War. We had fun talking about both sides of the war and how he had those that served on both sides and one in the Confederacy that died in Savannah. His 3th great grandfather from Michigan served in the Michigan 3rd Cavalry Regiment from 03 Oct 1861. He was promoted to Full Qtr Master Serg on 19 Jan 1864 and mustered out on 12 Feb 1866 at San Antonio, TX.

We also visited a blacksmith tent and that gave us the opportunity to talk about his great great grandfather who was a blacksmith and we have his anvil.

So there you go, while I am AWOL occasionally, I am keeping the dream alive trying to share with the generations following, so the story is not forgotten.

Follow your Dreams!

This is Sophie Regula Gubelmann. She was my great-great-grandmother. I know so very little about her. She was born in Switzerland and was married young to my great-great-grandfather Carl Stange who was 16 years her major. I was told she had reddish hair. I think I inherited the form of her hands. That’s pretty much all I know.

I once dreamed of her. I met her in the store in Stralsund that she ran after her husband’s early death. She wore a black dress as widows did, with a lot of underskirts. She walked up to me and told me to continue my search and not to give up. I awoke and wondered what this was all about. But it had felt very real.

The following week, I went to Stralsund to find out more. I went through the church records of St. Nicolai at the parish office, looked at the death records and found my great-great-grandfather’s cause of death and his place of burial in 1899. The next step was to find his youngest daughter Antonie’s confirmation record from around 1890. These records were kept at the church itself and the clerk was kind enough to go there with me and let me have a look. I stood in the sacristy, opened the book of confirmations on page 172 in the year 1893 and immediately saw a surname that sounded familiar. The record stated that this child named Sophie Charlotte Stange was the daughter of Carl Stange, born in 1879. But I had never heard of this girl before. I went back to the other records again and found her death at the age of 20 of consumption. And in fact she had been Carl and Sophie Stange’s daughter and my great-grandfather’s youngest sister. Only that no one had ever talked about her. I asked my mother, aunts and uncles, no one had ever heard of her. I called my grandfather’s cousin who had done research in this part of the family and could even remember her grandmother and her great-aunt Antonie. But she had never heard about this child either. 

She sent me a picture of two girls whom she had considered to be the oldest daughter Maria and the youngest Antonie. But as Maria had been 9 years older than Antonie and handicapped after a fall, it simply was more likely that these two girls actually were Antonie and Charlotte.

I still am puzzled by the fact that this child never was mentioned. I am sure that this was rather normal in those days, even though the child was certainly was loved and missed. But one person did not forget her and made sure that we started to talk about her again. And that was her mother Sophie Regula Stange, née Gubelmann, born in Switzerland, married young, with reddish hair.

Do you think they'll remember?

Familiar with his verbal intonations, I realized Dad was gulping back tears as he voiced that heartfelt question. My reply was similarly choked up. "Yes, Dad, I know they'll remember."

Oh, how I recall that tender conversation as I drove Dad's wheelchair van from the Anacortes ferry terminal. We had celebrated our family tradition of visiting Orcas Island, Washington, just as crabbing season opened. It proved to be Dad's last trip with us that late July 2007, for he died a few weeks later.



Years before, Dad and our beloved step-mother had attended a medical association retreat to Rosario, and discovered the peaceful allure of Orcas, long before the island became a destination with a capital "D." Although throughout the years Dad took the boys up camping to Cattle Point and other San Juan Islands spots, Orcas was always the treasured family place.

IMAGE: The author's daughters Tam, Carrie and Stacey at
Crescent Lake on Orcas Island, circa 1985,
from the author's private collection.

Dad loved family get-togethers of any sort. Salmon bakes at home - what's that secret recipe anyway? Ivars on Lake Union either via car or boat. The Space Needle dining level for special occasions. I particularly remember the sheer fun of watching Dad interact with my toddler daughters as we "went in the boat for dinner" to the little kiddies' favorite McDonald's up in Kirkland. The pièce de résistance was and is a family retreat on Orcas Island.

IMAGE: Glen S. Player, MD as he surveys the
crab catch of the day, circa 1995, from the author's private collection.

A little too weak to get into the Apple A Day for the 2007 afternoon trip to Jones Island,  Dad encouraged us to make the trip while he'd stay back at our Smugglers' Villa rental. My brother Mike by now had owned Dad's boat for many years, so "Uncle Mike" cheerfully ferried everyone from the nearest point on Orcas, namely Deer Harbor. And so began that afternoon of picnicking and climbing. Yes, Dad. We are talking our children and now grandchildren and we tell them how you first brought us to this glorious place.

IMAGE: Dad's boat and family, 2007, Jones Island, Washington,
from the author's private collection.

It isn't about Orcas, as much as it is about family being together. Orcas provides the backdrop, including poor cell phone and internet access, so you end up talking, listening, laughing, playing, and exploring the island's treasures together. Three generations just hanging out together doing nothing, yet making the most precious memories.

IMAGE: 2007, from the author's private collection.

This past summer Mr. Myrt and I met with family once again up on Orcas Island. On the way out and back, my eyes teared up as we passed the spot where Dad had asked "Do you think they'll remember?" and I choked out once again these words:

"Yes, Dad, I know they'll remember."