Marriage Monday

In all fairness I have been trying to post from each branch of our family tree, but that isn’t always easy as some information is more readily available, and some people more willing to discuss ancestors. Today, I made an amazing find (actually it was yesterday, but who’s counting). Quite some time ago I discovered information for the marriage of Jacob Edgar PEASE to Grace A WINELAND, but all I remember seeing were the dates, names and dates, that’s all genealogy really is, right!?

Wrong, our ancestors had lives as well. They were farmers, laborers, carpenters, housewives, wool makers, and the list goes on. They had stories to tell, and it is my job to discover those stories. So, today when I found the marriage information of Jacob and Grace on FamilySearch.org today I clicked on the link that said, “View Image” and waalah! It was as if I had waved a magic wand and traveled into the past.

Though I have yet to uncover the story of how Jacob and Grace met, I did learn a lot of information from this simple image. Such as Jacob was born in Jennings, Indiana and was a common laborer at the time of applying for a marriage license. He lived in Warsaw, Indiana at that time; his father was a farmer and his mother a housewife. Both of Jacob’s parents, Levi Pease and Ellen (Poole) Pease were born in Indiana and he reports this to be his first marriage.

Grace was born in Noble County, Indiana, and lived in Atwood, Indiana at time of marriage application. Her parents, Richard and Sarah (Scott) Wineland were also born in Indiana. This is also Grace’s first marriage.

An interesting note, this document was witnessed by George and Hattie Hefner.  I find this interesting because it appears that Grace signed her last name as “Hefner” on the application document, though everywhere else her last name is clearly “Wineland.” Baffled, I just sat and studied the document for several minutes before I realized that all of the signatures on the document match. Jacob and Grace never signed their marriage license or certificate. So the court clerk may have accidently written “Grace Hefner” rather than the correct “Grace Wineland.”

Having placed this document through my genealogy wringer, I think it only fair that I give you the most important bit of information. Jacob and Grace were married on 28 June 1919, by Rev. S. U. Hill.

Source:

"Indiana, Marriages, 1811-1959," index and images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/pal:/MM9.3.1/TH-1942-21135-12656-94?cc=1410397&wc=M944-944:2078596199 : accessed 17 Nov 2013), Kosciusko > 1919-1920 Volume Z > image 77 of 320.

Richard L. Haines (1940-2006)

Today I should be writing about an obituary from an ancestor, but as I searched for such I came across a prayer card that flooded me with memories. Forgive me for my rebel ways, but I need to see this one through. :-)

Prayer Card for Richard L. Haines.

The year was 2006, and the last time we had seen Uncle Dick he was raising a beer Heavenward in a friendly goodbye to his younger brother. The news of his loss had us reeling between my family and my husband's we had lost so many this year, my mother, Uncle John, and so many more. It just seemed a bad year to sustain life and the ceremonies were wearing on us. Trips to Pennsylvania and Indiana had us begging for reprieve. Yet, God would have it His way, no matter how much we prayed for the safety of those we love.

I have never been to a firefighter's funeral, and the ceremony quickly brought me to tears, yet swelled my heart with pride and love for all that Uncle Dick had done for his community. As the preacher wrapped up his portion of the ceremony someone held a radio, which crackled to life. It was dispatch informing all that Richard Haines had answered his final call. Tears sprang to my eyes and my heart beat a nervous rhythm as I realized that Uncle Dick was an angel on Earth and was now an angel in Heaven. He would be fine, he was used to the responsibility of such a position, but would the rest of us be okay? It was a question that had me pondering the process of grief. His wife, his children, grandchildren, nieces, nephews, uncles, aunts ... would we all be okay?

Of course, we are okay, but not without an occasional intervention from above. After all, what would life be if we didn't sometimes need a little help from a guardian angel or two.

We miss Uncle John and Uncle Dick all the time, but pride in both of them helps us to understand why God needed them a little sooner than we were prepared to see them leave.

Surname Saturday

Eitniear is a very uncommon last name in most places, but where we live it is as common as Smith or Jones. I decided to do a bit of research of “Eitniear” as a surname just to see where we likely came from and this is what I learned:

One hundred percent of all individuals with the surname of Eitniear live in the United States.[i] With this in mind, it is hard to decipher where we actually came from, as white man did not originate in America. So, I read a bit further to learn that our last name is probably a alteration of the German name of Eitner.[ii] At this point I learn that 14% of Eitner’s live in Argentina, 29% in Germany, and 57% in United States.[iii]

Now I seem to be getting somewhere, with so many Eitniear’s in my family tree we had to begin somewhere and Argentina, once being a place for War Criminals seems unlikely. I would say guess that our roots begin in Germany. Even the American derivative of the name Eitniear seems German, many people unfamiliar with the name pronounce it Eit-nower, it certainly sounds German when you say it that way.

So how did the name get changed? Spelling variations over the years? I know, I know, Ellis Island changed the name. No, no, no! It is most likely the way that someone from Germany spelled the name, possibly in an effort to be Americanized. But, that’s just my guess.

At any rate, the name, “Eitner” is a form of “Eite,” the German form of Agatha.[iv] So, my daughter’s name now means “Pure Angel Agatha” ugh, we thought Eitniear meant Angel, so her name meant Pure Angel Angel. We were trying to make her extra special sweet and loving when we named her.

My daughter is now having a meltdown because our last name means Agatha. In interest of keeping her together I will research Agatha: to make a long story short, Agatha means good.[v] When telling my daughter our last name means good I got a thumb up. Score for mom! I have saved the day!

I will now rest my weary fingers, and hang up my cape until tomorrow when I post another blog entry. J

---

[i] My Heritage: http://lastnames.myheritage.com/last-name/Eitniear accessed on 16 November 2013.

[ii] My Heritage: http://lastnames.myheritage.com/last-name/Eitniear accessed on 16 November 2013.

[iii] My Heritage: http://lastnames.myheritage.com/last-name/Eitner accessed on 16 November 2013.

[iv] My Heritage: http://lastnames.myheritage.com/last-name/Eitner accessed on 16 November 2013.

[v] Behind the Name: http://www.behindthename.com/name/agatha accessed on 16 November 2013.

Faces from the Past

It hangs on the wall in my living room. It is a daily reminder of the power of intuition and of unsung love. It is a picture of a man I never met, but who knew I existed, and a woman I have missed for years. The picture resides in a collage frame where, in our home past generations meet present and our children come face to face with those that loved them before they were even thought of.

This picture, in particular, gives me chills, see the story goes like this:

Charles Raymond & Sarah Beatrice (Crosland) Keckler

Grandpop Charles Raymond Keckler was born to William Eline and Elizabeth Missouri (Noll) Keckler on 9 Sep 1908, in Waynesboro, Pennsylvania. Grandpop’s father passed away in 1916, leaving his mother to send him out to live with another family. In the 1920 Federal Census Charles Kackler (note the misspelling) is found living with a family in Maryland, and listed as an orphan.

At about the same time Sarah Beatrice Crosland (formerly Lillian May Crosland) is being raised by an aunt due to Sarah’s mother’s death when Sarah was young. Both young children, in a world foreign to them, were being raised to work, work, work for everything. From the stories I have heard, they didn’t have much time for kid stuff, toys, playing, or silly things of that sort that today we consider important for growth.

Now I’m going to take you on a jaunt, through several decades and forward to 1973. Here, on 22 April 1973, Grandpop takes his last breath. In the days prior to his death he told his daughter Elizabeth Jane (Keckler) Leary that she was pregnant.

“I am not,” she responded, though it wasn’t often she stood up to her father she was positive that she wasn’t and assumed she was headed to early menopause.  Yet, they didn’t discuss these things, how in the world could Dad know if I’m menstruating or not, she wondered.

“Don’t tell me,” her Dad said, “I know when one of my daughter’s is expecting!”

She had no way of knowing that he would be leaving everyone to go to Heaven, before she would learn that she was in fact expecting. On Easter Sunday of 1973 she said goodbye to her father and on 8 December 1973 she said hello to the bundle of nervous energy her father had warned her about.

Treasure Chest Thursday

Today is “Treasure Chest Thursday” so, I have dug deep into a chest of memories, pictures, and what-not’s to find something to write about. The item most nagging to be written about is a penny. A penny? Yes, a penny. Over time I have often heard the phrase “a penny from Heaven” but I never really comprehended its meaning until I experienced it for myself.

Mom and Dad c. 2001

On January 3, 2006, my mother, Elizabeth Jane (Keckler) Leary took her final breath on this Earth. It was at that time that all five of her living children began to find brand new pennies, shiny and new, like they had never been in circulation, yet their years defied this thought. I found a penny that was marked “1979” I thought hard, what made this year so special to my mother. It took me about a day before I realized that was the year she became a grandmother for the first time, not once, but twice, fifteen days apart.

There was another penny that was significant … one day I was cleaning in the kitchen while everyone was in the living room watching television. I turned from one counter and took two steps to the trash can, as I turned to go back to the counter I saw a penny fall from our skylight (which is sealed closed). Stepping back in shock I quickly regained composure and picked up the penny. Yes, it was shiny and new, and it was from the year “1993” the year both of my boys were born, my first children.

It has been almost eight years now, since I started finding pennies from Heaven, and still, each has the significance of the first one that I found. On a bad day a penny may be all that I need to pull me out of the doldrums of the day and remember I have the best parents in the world, even if one of them left us too soon.

I often tell my children that parents’ shouldn’t have favorites, but we all knew that Mom loved Dan (the only living boy) in a special way, though we never held it against Mom or Dan. This special relationship became more evident when Dan began finding dimes from Heaven. With odds like that, I sort of wish I were the favorite and finding dollars from Heaven!

Ora Franklin Haines

With a middle name like “Ora” it’s no wonder my husband has spent a lifetime questioning where this name came from. Though he is well aware that he is named after his grandfather, Ora Franklin Haines (b: 16 Sep 1914 d: 1 Aug 1984). The question is where did Grandfather’s name come from?

Seeking through records in Indiana I found a “Guardianship Report” for Ora Franklin Haines. Though the dates didn’t match up, it was from the same sparsely populated county that our Ora was from. I ordered the record just to see what it was all about. I thought maybe, since maternal death was so common in the late 1800s and early 1900s and diseases were rampant possibly, our Ora was an orphan. I considered this assumption to be paper thin, as I’m sure my husband would have had some sort of an inkling of information about this since our Ora did not pass away until 1984 and Chris has many strong memories of his grandfather.

Once I received the report I noticed that Robert was the guardian of Ora Franklin Haines, deceased and three other minor children, but he stated that he was also their father. It lists Edith as deceased, but does not offer her date of death, or any other names of minor children. The way the report reads, Ora Franklin Haines was an adult, with three minor children at the time of his passing. I investigate further to determine if this Ora is actually father to our ancestor’s and a guardianship report proved misleading as it is listed that Robert & Maggie (Justice) Haines are our direct lineage.

Further investigation led me to an obituary for Ora Franklin Haines, son of Robert and Alice Haines was born August 16, 1876 died Wednesday, February 25, 1891. This obituary appeared in the Tri-County Gazette of Westone, Indiana, on Saturday, March 7, 1891.

As it turns out, Alice was Robert’s first wife; having died when Ora was young, then Ora passed away just 14 and a half years after his birth. According to the obituary he did well in his studies and excelled in school, the thought of him having minor children is now a distant whisper in my mind.

Now, I think it more likely that John Oliver Haines, son of Robert and Maggie (Justice) Haines named his son for his half-brother that passed away so young. I’m still left with the question of who is Edith that is listed in the Guardianship Report. Her death date being left blank has me lost.

My husband found comfort in knowing that Ora is a family name, handed down from generation to generation. This is why I have denoted Ora Franklin Haines (1876-1891) as Wednesday’s Child.

Tombstone Tuesday

First things first, let's get something straight, I am not and never will be a fan of walking through cemeteries. Although, due to my love of genealogy it is sometimes unavoidable. In one such instance I was drawn to a cemetery in Trenton, New Jersey, that promised a wealth of information on my maternal grandmother's side of the family.

Since Grandmom Keckler was raised by an aunt, I knew very little of her family history, and my mother knew about as much as I did. Slowly, but surely I processed through an investigation that ultimately named Grandmom's Father as Thornton B. Crosland. His parents are Germaine and Sarah Crosland. There lay my investigation for months, until I happened upon Trenton's Historical Society website with a wealth of information.

From this I was able to learn where the family graves were located, a death certificate from Grandmom's Mom, whom died when Grandmom was very young, and an obituary for Grandmom's paternal grandfather. I was able to order the documents, but my hopes for further information, etched into the tombstones of my ancestor's would have to wait until I went to Pennsylvania.

After many months of waiting I finally managed a trip out there and this is where I made a beginner's mistake, I did not check the cemetery for hours, thus, the sexton's office was closed and I was forced to navigate through this huge cemetery with my sister, in search of the Crosland Family Plot. For some reason we expected a huge tombstone with their names etched to stand the test of time. Instead, we had to rush back to the car before they locked us in overnight. Creepy!

On my next trip to Pennsylvania I carefully checked the office hours of the cemetery, and again, my sister and I were on the hunt. The cemetery sexton verbally gave us the information for the plots and headed us in the vague direction of said plots. We searched and we searched, still looking for the Crosland name displayed proudly, but we couldn't find them at all.

Returning to the sexton's office we were given a document that mapped the location of the family plot. Click here to see that document. As you can see, this gave us little information, but her verbal instructions were slightly better this time around. I guess she spoke slower, understanding that we were new and nervous to be traipsing through a cemetery in Trenton this is not an every day occurrence for us.

Finally, our search paid off when we located this:

Sarah and Germaine Crosland's Burial Plots, Riverview Cemetery, Trenton, NJ.

Though it is difficult to see, they say nothing more than "Mother" and "Father." In fact, I wouldn't have found them if it weren't for the tombstone marked merely, "Milton." I knew Milton was a son based on Germaine's obituary, but my direct ancestor, "Thornton," his grave is unmarked. No wonder they were so hard to find! 

Even though I was looking for more information than I found, locating their resting place was a treasure I won't soon forget.