Category: Research

Document Detail: Death Certificate of Philippe Schmidt

Posted on by spuddled

In today’s blog post we’ll be examining one document in detail. Today’s highlighted document is the death record of my 3G-grandfather, Philippe Schmidt. Philippe was born on 26 July 1817 in Butten, Alsace, France, and appears to have spent his entire life there. This small community has a population of 640 and is about 19 miles from the French-German border.1

Philippe’s parents were Philippe and Anna Catharina (Bauer) Schmidt, and he had at least three siblings: Christine, Catherine, and Margaretha. On 18 July 1845 (again in Butten), Philippe (today’s subject, not his father) married Marguérithe Kurtz. She had been born in Butten on 4 August 1820.

Philippe and Marguérithe had four children, all born in Butten: Christian, born 23 January 1847; Christine, our 2G-grandmother, born 26 March 1851; Philipp, born 19 February 1858; and Andreas, born 8 March 1863.2

The 1851 Butten census shows Philippe and Marguérithe, son “Chretien” and daughter Christine (aged 5 weeks), living with the senior Philippe and Catherine, as well as Philippe, Jr’s sister Marguerith.3 Five years later Philippe and Marguérithe, Christian and Christine were living with Marguérithe’s parents, André and Marguérithe (Bauer) Kurz.4 So many repeating names….

Only one month after the birth of Philippe and Marguérithe’s youngest child, on 3 April 1864, Philippe died in Butten. His civil death record appears in the 1525-1912 Bas-Rhin Parish and Civil Registration files and confirms some of the information we have regarding Philippe.5

Noted on the left (under the designation of this as record No. 10), is Philippe’s name (though here spelled as Philippe “Schmitt”), and the fact that he died on 3 April 1864. As an aside, ChatGPT doesn’t seem to be very good at either French or at palaeography, as it transcribed what is clearly “3 avril 1864” as “18 août 1864.” It also tells me that Philippe’s mother’s maiden name is “clearly Bonnet.” As I’ve already mentioned, her name was Bauer.

So here is what I think it really says:

Commune of Butten, Arrondissement of Saverne

The fourth of April 1864 at nine o’clock in the morning, the death certificate of Schmitt Philippe, aged forty-six, died at Butten the third of April 1864 at two o’clock in the afternoon, farmer by profession, born at Butten, department of Bas-Rhin, living at Butten, spouse of Kurtz Marguérithe, living at Butten. Legitimate son of the late Philippe Schmitt, farmer by profession, living at Butten and of the late Catherine Bauer, living at Butten.

On the declaration made to us by Bernard [unsure of surname], aged 72 years, [illegible occupation], living at Butten, who said he was the neighbor of the deceased, and by [maybe Sauer?] Pierre, aged twenty-nine years, weaver by profession, living at Butten, who said he was the neighbor of the deceased, and after the record was read, they signed.

I wish the document listed Philippe’s cause of death, but that was apparently not part of the official death record of 1864. His widow would outlive him by more than 30 years, dying in Butten on 18 December 1895. By that time her son Christian had married Sophie Stock and had 11 children; daughter Christine had married my 2G-grandfather Jacob Hoffmann in Renaucourt France and then emigrated with him to Illinois (they would have seven children in addition to the 11 Jacob had with his first wife); son Philipp married Elizabeth Bauer and had another Philipp who, sadly, lived less than a month; and son Andreas had married Carolina Stenger before dying in Ratzwiller, Alsace, at the age of 35.

The list of all these Butten relatives has me wondering – what percentage of the 640 residents are our cousins? Field trip, anyone?

  1. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Butten ↩︎
  2. Barbara Crawford Schmidt, Descendants of Philipp Schmidt (n.p: July 31, 2000, n.d). ↩︎
  3. 1851 census of France, Butten, Alsace, 5, Schmidt, 20, Schmidt Households; digital images, Conseil Departemental Bas-Rhin, Archives Departmentales du Bas-Rhin (http://archives.bas-rhin.fr/detail-document/REC-POP-C72-R1121#visio/page:REC-POP-C72-R1121-5730 : accessed 4 June 2021). ↩︎
  4. 1856 census of France, Butten, Alsace, 10, Kurtz, 23; Schmitt, 24, Andre’ Kurtz and Philippe Schmitt; digital images, Conseil Departemental Bas-Rhin, Archives Departmentales du Bas-Rhin (http://archives.bas-rhin.fr/detail-document/REC-POP-C72-R1122#visio/page:REC-POP-C72-R1122-5771 : accessed 4 June 2021). ↩︎
  5. “France, Bas-Rhin, Parish and Civil Registration, 1525-1912”, FamilySearch (https://www.familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:6FYX-6ZLK : Tue Mar 05 02:31:55 UTC 2024), Entry for Philippe Schmitt and Philippe Schmitt, 4 Apr 1864. ↩︎

Newspaper Tales: Emma Slagel Hoffmann in Print

Posted on by spuddled

Even though at times genealogical discoveries can seem to be full of the morbid or gloomy, it’s important to remember that our ancestors spent a lot of time living their regular lives. Old newspapers can provide a treasure trove of information about some of these happier incidents and give us a more holistic view of our ancestors’ lives.

This week I’m going to look for everyday, non-gloomy newspaper appearances of my great-grandmother, Emma (Slagel) Hoffmann. She would certainly have more than enough sadness that made it into newsprint as well (see Railroad Crossings for one example). Having said that, though this first incident didn’t result in any permanent injuries, it must have been frightening when it happened.

As the Fairbury (Illinois) Blade of 11 November 1921 tells us, Emma, two of her children, and her mother were riding in a Klondyke buggy pulled by a single horse. They were at a crossroads and saw the car of Emil Keller approaching. He had the right-of-way but the driver of the buggy (never technically identified in the article) felt they could make it across before he reached them. Apparently they were wrong, and the car struck the back of the buggy, which became disconnected from the shafts and overturned. Everyone in the buggy was “bruised and cut by flying glass,” and “the older child” received a bad cut on the forehead. A doctor treated the group, and all were reported to be “getting along all right.”1 One thing this article does not do is identify which of Emma’s two children were with her. Obviously it could not have been Clyde or Ralph, who had not yet been born. But there are still so many other options: Uncle Paul would have been 1; Sam, 4; Alice, 7; Lee, 9; Leona, 11; Joe (aka Grandpa), 14; Martha, 16; and Marie, 18. Though I’m not sure the Blade would have referred to Aunt Marie, anyway, as a “child.” Has anyone ever heard this story before and knows who was involved?

I seem to be disproving my own theory about peaceful everyday events abounding in the newspaper, as this next article I came across also involves horses and injuries, though it took place nearly 20 years before the previous incident. Again the story comes to us from The Fairbury Blade. This time Emma was sitting on the back seat of a wagon when the driver (definitely not Emma this time) got out to “hook up a tug” when the horses started to run. “The two Misses Slagel” were “thrown violently to the ground.” They were also treated by a doctor and were recovering.2 Again, I’m slightly baffled by the article, as I have no idea who the second Miss Slagel would have been. Emma was the only Miss Slagel in her family, having only brothers. Could it have been a cousin?

Emma herself would not be “Miss Slagel” much longer, as two months after the buggy incident she would marry my great-grandfather, Paul Hoffmann. An article noting that the couple had obtained a marriage license appeared in the 5 December 1902 Daily Leader of Pontiac, Illinois.3 They were married two days later.

And then there were all the visits; newspapers of the time seem to have spent a lot of their real estate noting visitors coming and going. These are just a few examples:

  • 2 January 1942: Mr. and Mrs. Joe Hoffman of Boise (my grandparents) came for a visit to both Grandma’s parents and the now-widowed Emma4
  • 4 July 1947: Emma, along with granddaughters Phyllis and Marlene, headed west for a visit of several months with family and friends in Caldwell, Idaho, and Portland, Oregon5
  • 9 July 1948: Mrs. Joseph Hoffman and children (this was Grandma and, presumably, Mom, Uncle Jay, and Aunt Paula), arrived for a visit of several weeks, again with both Grandma’s parents and with Emma6
  • 26 June 1952: Mrs. A. A. Himelick (Emma’s daughter Alice) and sons, Paul and Jimmy, were spending a few weeks with Emma, visiting from Kokomo, Indiana7
  • 1 January 1953: The Himelick family was back, spending the holidays with Emma8

This does not include other happy mentions in the newspaper regarding weddings (though I suppose the marriage license is wedding-adjacent) and babies, which I didn’t include here, as births, weddings, and deaths are the bread and butter of genealogy. Today I was focused on the icing on the cake.

  1. The Fairbury [Illinois] Blade, 11 November 1921, pg. 1 ↩︎
  2. The Fairbury [Illinois] Blade, 24 October 1902, pg. 8 ↩︎
  3. The Daily Leader [Pontiac, Illinois], 5 December 1902, pg. 2 ↩︎
  4. The Fairbury [Illinois] Blade, 2 January 1942, pg. 5 ↩︎
  5. The Fairbury [Illinois] Blade, 4 July 1947, pg. 5 ↩︎
  6. The Fairbury [Illinois] Blade, 9 July 1948, pg. 5 ↩︎
  7. The Fairbury [Illinois] Blade, 26 June 1952, pg. 5 ↩︎
  8. The Fairbury [Illinois] Blade, 1 January 1953, pg. 5 ↩︎

Document Detail: Death Certificate of Maria (Rusch) Hunkler

Posted on by spuddled

For today’s Document Detail post, I’m taking a closer look at the death certificate of my great-great-grandmother, Maria Elizabeth (Rusch) Hunkler. Maria was born on Christmas Day 1859 in Saint Gallen, Switzerland. Her parents were Joseph Anton and Maria Elisabeth (Scheuermann) Rusch; she was the fourth of ten children born to them. In 1883 her future husband, George John Hunkler, emigrated from Saint Gallen to Washington, Illinois.1 In March 1885 George paid $19.78 for Maria to travel by train from Basel, Switzerland to Antwerp, then via the Red Star Line from Antwerp to New York or Philadelphia, then by train from New York or Philadelphia to Washington, Illinois.2 In December of the following year, George and Maria were married in Peoria.3

George and Maria were enumerated in 1900 in Washington;4 in 1910 in Crugar, Woodford County, Illinois;5 and in 1920-1930 in Elmwood, Peoria County, Illinois. The couple had five children: Bertha Elizabeth (1887-1986), Matilda “Tillie” (1888-1956), John George (1891-1986), Lena Agnes (my great-grandmother, 1892-1964), and Hulda Catherine (1896-1980). George John died 2 December 1934 in Elmwood at the age of 72.6 In 1940 Maria was enumerated at 246 Lilac Street in Elmwood.7

When she died 8 years later, her death certificate was issued by the State of Illinois Department of Public Health – Division of Vital Statistics. What information can be gleaned from this certificate?

Right off the bat we learn that Maria died in El Paso, Woodford County, Illinois, at the Dowell Nursing Home, and that she had only been there 9 days. Her “usual place of residence” is listed as Morton, Tazewell County, Illinois. Maria was a white female and the widow of George Hunkler. Her birthdate is listed (as expected) as 25 December 1859, and her birthplace as St. Gallen, Switzerland. She was 88 years, 9 months, and 2 days old at her death.

Her parents are listed with anglicized spellings as Joseph Ruch and Elizabeth Sherman. Both were said to have been born in unknown cities in Switzerland. The informant listed on Maria’s death certificate was her son, J. G. Hunkler (though that relationship detail is not provided); his address is given as Deer Creek, Illinois. The certificate tells us Maria was buried at Washington, Illinois, on 30 September 1948, and that the undertaker was R. W. Vincent of the Otto-Vincent Memorial Home in El Paso.

The medical portion of the certificate provides her date of death as 27 September 1948. The hour given is a little hard to read, but I think it says she died at 5:45 p.m. Her doctor, Robert P. Lykkebak of El Paso, stated he had attended Maria from September 18-27, 1948, and that he last saw her alive on the 27th. This date range and Dr. Lykkebak’s location in El Paso, suggests he was a physician in residence at the Dowell Nursing Home.

Dr. Lykkebak further stated Maria’s cause of death was acute cardiac failure, from which she had suffered for one month; she had also suffered from arteriosclerosis for 10 years and chronic myocarditis. Decubitus ulcers, from which she had suffered for three months, were also a contributing factor. Her death was not related to her occupation in any way (her usual occupation was listed earlier in the certificate as “at Home”), nor was there any operation or autopsy performed. Dr. Lykkebak signed the death certificate on 28 September 1948, the day after Maria’s death. It was officially filed that same day.8

Twenty years ago this summer, Mom and I visited Washington, Illinois and the grave of George and Maria in Washington Cemetery. John George and his wife Ruth are also buried there, one row away from his parents.

Last but not least, we actually have a photograph of Maria. It may not make up for my never having met her in person (I don’t even know if Mom ever met her in person), but at least it brings her to life a little bit more.

  1. 1900 Census. ↩︎
  2. Copy of passage ticket. ↩︎
  3. Various Illinois County collections, “Illinois, County Marriage Records, 1800-1940,” marriage indexes, Ancestry.com (www.ancestry.com : accessed 30 August 2022), George Hunkler/Mary Rusch. ↩︎
  4. LDS File from Mrs. Bates. ↩︎
  5. 1910 Census (n.p: 1910, n.d). ↩︎
  6. FamilySearch Historical Records, Illinois Deaths and Stillbirths, 1916-1947, FHL Film #1753854. ↩︎
  7. Ancestry.com, 1940 Census. ↩︎
  8. State of Illinois Department of Public Health, Death Certificate of Mary Hunkler (September 28, 1948). ↩︎

Newspaper Tales: C. W. Montgomery in Print

Posted on by spuddled

For today’s Newspaper Tales blog post, I’ve decided to take a look at various times in which my great-grandfather, Charles William Montgomery, showed up in newspapers throughout his lifetime. I’ve found that old newspapers can capture not only the important milestones, but also the small moments that help round out our understanding of our ancestors’ lives.

Charles was born 17 January 1861 in Lynchburg, Ohio, but the first newspaper mention of him that I have been able to find is from 1896, after he had moved twice: first to Richland County, Illinois, and then to Holdrege, Nebraska. Events in Charles’s life that did not make it into the newspaper (or at least not the newspapers I have seen) were his marriage to Laura Maud Walker on 22 February 1883 in Richland County, Illinois, and the births of daughters Myrtle, Mamie, Bessie, and Elta in Mansfield, Illinois, between 1884 and 1888. The family moved to Nebraska sometime around 1889. Charles’s first mention in print appears in The Political Forum of Holdrege: an article notes that C. W. Montgomery was to be appointed night watchman for the town, effective 5 February.1

There seems to have been something of a muddle over this appointment. An article appearing two days later in the Holdrege Weekly Progress also references Charles being made night watchman but noted that the former watchman whom C. W. had replaced was still “on the night turf.”2

The Holdrege Citizen similarly detailed this redundancy of night watchmen.3

Exactly what transpired next is unclear, but on 28 February 1896, The Holdrege Citizen reported that Charles had resigned his post. Interestingly, this notice appears on the same page as an account of Charles swearing out warrants the previous Wednesday against a group of men for public intoxication. The men pled guilty and were fined, and according to the article, the issue “caused considerable comment and feeling.” I can’t help but wonder if this somehow led to the resignation.4

Shortly after Charles’s resignation from his night watch post, a brief mention in The Holdrege Citizen provides information on his next employment situation. This one is night watch-adjacent.5

In all these articles, Charles appears fairly consistently as “C. W. Montgomery.” So I’m going to assume the “Chas. Montgomery” who took a car load of the mayor’s cattle to Omaha in June 1896 was a different individual. Though our Charles is back (and cattle-adjacent) in September 1897.6

Two years later, we learn, Laura’s sister, Eunice (Walker) Pilchard and her husband came to stay for “a few weeks” with Charles and Laura,7 though a later article revealed the visit had in actuality been only for 10 days.8 This later article refers to our Charles as “Chas. W. Montgomery, ” so maybe I should rethink that mayoral cattle business.

A month after the Pilchards’ visit, The Holdrege Daily Citizen coyly noted the arrival of “a handsome boy” at the home of Charles and Laura. This handsome boy was John Ward, the second of three sons born to the couple. The first son, Walter, had been born in March 1898 (10 years after the birth of Elta). John Ward, who would go by his middle name, was born 9 October 1899.9

Another bit of confusion comes next. Was it our C. W. Montgomery who was selected as “Chief Forester” for the Holdrege Modern Woodmen of America?10 Similarly, who was the “Chas. Montgomery” who attended the Nebraska State Volunteer Fire Department Association convention?11 I don’t know.

What does appear to be the next confirmed incident to befall Charles was that his employer at the Palace meat market sold the business. The new proprietor, Thomas Sword, would be assisted by his son as well as “Chas. Montgomery, the popular meat cutter.”12

The following month “the infant son of Mr. and Mrs. Chas. W. Montgomery” broke his collar bone by falling out of a swing. Was this John Ward, the “handsome boy”?13 Three months after that, Thomas Sword, the new proprietor of the Palace meat market, turned around and sold it to Chas. Hagstrom & Co. The article about the sale noted that our Charles would remain with the firm “for a month or two yet.”14

This “month or two” was an understatement. By April 1901 when the meat market changed ownership yet again, C. W. Montgomery was still working there, and would continue to do so.15 He seems to have been the one constant at that place.

Four months later another birth announcement for Charles’s family appeared in the newspaper. Though he wasn’t labeled as a “handsome boy” arriving at the house, it’s still exciting to see in print, as this was my grandfather, Lawrence Montgomery, born 26 August 1901.16

Before Grandpa was a year old, the family would move again, this time to Colorado. An article from May 1902 describes how Grandpa’s sister Mamie (then 16 years old) traveled to Sterling, Colorado, to prepare their new home for the family’s move.17

Even after his move, Charles continued to turn up in the Holdrege newspaper. Here he is connected with cattle again…18

Charles’s next appearance in print is a sad one that provides a lot of insight into the family’s history. His wife Laura was committed to an asylum in Pueblo, Colorado, and would spend the remaining thirty years of her life there. Even more poignant to me is the fact that her “youngest child” referenced here was my grandfather.19, 20

Six months later eldest daughter Myrtle, who had married in Colorado but then returned to Nebraska, came to visit “her parents.” I know from letters Mamie later wrote to her own daughter that Laura did write to her children from the asylum; perhaps Myrtle did in fact visit her there as well.21

Charles does not turn up as regularly in the Colorado newspapers as he did in Nebraska, at least at first. Interestingly, Fort Collins and Holdrege were roughly the same size (about 3000 people) in 1900, but by 1940, while Holdrege was holding steady at around 3400, Fort Collins had grown to over 12,000. Today Holdrege’s population is still only about 5500, while Fort Collins boasts about 170,000 residents.

Charles does show up in 1919 in an article concerning four acres of land he purchased. This article is tucked in between one asking citizens to buy War Savings Stamps and bread, and one advertising Bitro-Phosphate as a way to “increase one’s flesh.”22

Two years later Charles appears again, in an article noting he would be gone for several months to Cloverly, Wyoming.23 I wonder what was in Cloverly? It could not have been Buffalo Bill, even though Grandpa always said his father spent time “riding the range with Buffalo Bill,” because Buffalo Bill died in 1917.

Another less-mysterious trip was the one Charles took in December 1922 to Los Angeles, planning to stay for six months. At least it seems to be less mysterious: daughters Mamie, Bessie, and Elta would all eventually settle in California, though it’s not clear to me when each of them moved there with their families, and as we shall see, Elta, at least, was still in Colorado for a little while after 1922.24 This article also notes that Charles had lived for the past seven years at the New Antlers Hotel. This building still exists, and Mom, Dad, and I were able to see it in person in 2015.

In May 1923 a further article described Charles’s return from his trip. Though he enjoyed his time away, Colorado was still the winner in his book.25

Charles’s next appearance was in an article from September of that same year. This article tells us several important facts. Charles has returned to his prior occupation of being a night watchman, this time at the Great Western Sugar company. Also, daughter Elta was now living in Walsenburg, Colorado; Charles was taking a week’s vacation to visit her there.26

Charles was still employed at Great Western four years later, as an article describes how he was responsible for leading a class of eighth grade students from the Plummer School on a tour of the sugar company, describing the sugar-making process and answering the students’ questions.27

By 1933 both Elta and Bessie were living in Los Angeles, as in March of that year a newspaper article noted that Charles had wired both daughters but had not heard from him.28 It’s possible he was trying to reach them to relay information concerning their mother’s health; she would die in July of that year at age 70.

The following year Charles was the one with health concerns; a newspaper article from October 1934 notes he had been a surgical patient but was released back to his home at the Antlers Hotel.29

In May 1935 Elta sent Charles some freshly-picked California oranges. Charles shared his bounty with the staff of the newspaper which ran an article about this offering (the newspaper was then called The Fort Collins Express-Courier). Apparently this gift from Charles to the newspaper staff was not sufficient to prevent them from butchering Elta’s name; she is listed as “Alva” in the article.30

The following year Ward, the “handsome boy,” now 36 years old, visited Charles for a week. By this time Ward was married, had two children, and was living in Detroit.31

The following year it was Elta’s turn to visit Charles at 222 Linden Street (aka the Antlers Hotel).32

Then two years later in July 1939 Ward visited again. He was now a young widower, his wife having died in January of that year at age 31. The two young daughters, Jean and Ruth, were aged 10 and about 7.33

By this time Charles was nearing 80, but life would take at least one more surprising turn for him. In April 1941 an article in The Western Nebraska Observer noted that a marriage license had been been issued to Charles and a Lysle Cleave, both of Fort Collins.34 When they married on 27 March 1941 in Kimball, Nebraska, Charles was 80 and Lysle was 57.35 At some point I was sent a copy of a photograph of Charles and Lysle, which included notes written at the bottom of the page. It took some time to work out that “Mrs. Lyle” was in fact Lysle (Peterson) Cleave.

Part of what helped piece those details together was the final newspaper appearance we’ll look at today. As you might expect, that is Charles’s obituary, which appeared on 14 January 1942. Interestingly, the obituary states that Charles “would have been 75 Saturday,” when in fact he would have been 81.36 He died on 13 January 1942 in Fort Collins after a week’s illness. According to his death certificate, his cause of death was coronary occlusion and arteriosclerosis. So there you have it – Charles Montgomery’s life as described in newsprint. Now if only at least one article had mentioned Buffalo Bill…

  1. The Political Forum [Holdrege, Nebraska], 5 February 1896, pg. 3 ↩︎
  2. The Weekly Progress [Holdrege, Nebraska], 7 February 1896, pg. 1 ↩︎
  3. The Holdrege [Nebraska] Citizen, 7 February 1896, pg. 5 ↩︎
  4. The Holdrege [Nebraska] Citizen, 28 February 1896, pg. 5 ↩︎
  5. The Holdrege [Nebraska] Citizen, 17 April 1896, pg. 5 ↩︎
  6. The Holdrege [Nebraska] Citizen-Forum, 17 September 1897, pg. 8 ↩︎
  7. Holdrege [Nebraska] Daily Citizen, 8 September 1899, pg. 1 ↩︎
  8. The Weekly Progress [Holdrege, Nebraska], 15 September 1899, pg. 1 ↩︎
  9. Holdrege [Nebraska] Daily Citizen, 13 October 1899, pg. 1 ↩︎
  10. The Weekly Progress [Holdrege, Nebraska], 8 December 1899, pg. 1 ↩︎
  11. The Weekly Progress [Holdrege, Nebraska], 19 January 1900, pg. 1 ↩︎
  12. The Weekly Progress [Holdrege, Nebraska], 1 June 1900, pg. 1 ↩︎
  13. The Weekly Progress [Holdrege, Nebraska], 13 July 1900, pg. 8 ↩︎
  14. The Weekly Progress [Holdrege, Nebraska], 12 October 1900, pg. 1 ↩︎
  15. Holdrege [Nebraska] Daily Citizen, 19 April 1901, pg. 1 ↩︎
  16. The Weekly Progress [Holdrege, Nebraska], 30 August 1901, pg. 1 ↩︎
  17. Holdrege [Nebraska] Daily Citizen, 9 May 1902, pg. 1 ↩︎
  18. The Weekly Progress [Holdrege, Nebraska], 2 October 1903, pg. 1 ↩︎
  19. The Larimer County [Colorado] Independent, 28 December 1904, pg. 6 ↩︎
  20. The Fort Collins [Colorado] Express and The Fort Collins Review, 28 December 1904, pg. 4 ↩︎
  21. The Weekly Progress [Holdrege, Nebraska], 5 May 1905, pg. 1 ↩︎
  22. The Fort Collins [Colorado] Express, 21 March 1919, pg. 4 ↩︎
  23. Fort Collins [Colorado] Coloradoan, 27 January 1921, pg. 3 ↩︎
  24. Fort Collins [Colorado] Coloradoan, 16 December 1922, pg. 3 ↩︎
  25. Fort Collins [Colorado] Coloradoan, 16 May 1923, pg. 3 ↩︎
  26. Fort Collins [Colorado] Coloradoan, 21 September 1923, pg. 3 ↩︎
  27. Fort Collins [Colorado] Coloradoan, 20 January 1927, pg. 1 ↩︎
  28. Fort Collins [Colorado] Coloradoan, 14 March 1933, pg. 7 ↩︎
  29. Fort Collins [Colorado] Coloradoan, 9 October 1934, pg. 7 ↩︎
  30. Fort Collins [Colorado] Coloradoan, 28 May 1935, pg. 2 ↩︎
  31. Fort Collins [Colorado] Coloradoan, 6 August 1936, pg. 5 ↩︎
  32. Fort Collins [Colorado] Coloradoan, 25 July 1937, pg. 2 ↩︎
  33. Fort Collins [Colorado] Coloradoan, 30 July 1939, pg. 2 ↩︎
  34. The Western Nebraska Observer [Kimball, Nebraska], 3 April 1941, pg. 4 ↩︎
  35. Charles William Montgomery, Letter from Charles Montgomery (n.p: n.p, July 16, 1941). ↩︎
  36. Fort Collins [Colorado] Coloradoan, 14 January 1942, pg. 2 ↩︎

Church Record Sunday: Grandma Montgomery’s Confirmation

Posted on by spuddled

For our penultimate new theme we are taking a look at church records available for our family. Specifically, today we will examine the confirmation record for Grandma Blanche (Wilson) Montgomery. We’ve covered the basics of Grandma’s life several times here before, but in case you’ve missed them, I’ll provide a brief synopsis. She was born 17 December 1908 in Bradish, Nebraska, to Carl Ozro and Sophie Christine (Roberg) Wilson. She was the oldest surviving child of ten; her older brother Anders Clarence, born in 1907, died on his second birthday. She also had a younger brother Woodrow who lived only two days in 1917.

Grandma was a lifelong Lutheran, so it is no surprise that she was confirmed at Immanuel Lutheran Church in Albion, Nebraska. What is a little more surprising to me is Grandma’s age at the time. Confirmands tend to be around 14 years of age, so I would have expected Grandma to have been confirmed around 1923. Instead, her confirmation took place on 30 May 1926 when she was 17. The Immanuel Lutheran confirmation record lists the birth and baptismal dates of Grandma’s entire confirmation class of 13.1

From this list you can see that Grandma was the oldest in her class. One other confirmand was born in March 1909; all the others were born between 1911-1913. Of particular interest is the name right above Grandma’s: her cousin Louise Christine Roberg, born 28 March 1911. In an interview with Grandma I conducted around 1988, she shared some details about her confirmation class. In addition to her cousin Louise, Grandma also mentioned a pair of Greek siblings, brother and sister. I can see #7 on the list, Helen Irene Christo (the confirmand born in 1909), with her birthplace listed as “Grekenland,” though I don’t see any likely siblings for her.

In addition to Grandma’s confirmation record I found online, this is one time when I also have relevant photographs. Not only do formal confirmation portraits of Grandma survive, but also a confirmation class photograph. In that same 1988 interview, Grandma told me how her (and Louise’s) grandfather Anders Roberg paid for their matching confirmation dresses. Which means (I believe) that Louise is second from the right in the top row; Grandma is all the way on the left in the same row.

Obviously, this group portrait shows more individuals than the 13 who were confirmed together on that day in May. Maybe Helen Christo’s brother is in this photograph, even if he ended up being confirmed at a later date. Though I have no evidence of this confirmation actually taking place. I’ve found the Christo family in census records (as in Grandma’s family, there appear to have been 10 surviving Christo children), and the next Christo confirmation took place in 1933 and was for Johnnie, who was born in 1919. Maybe George, Thomas, Peter, and James all failed at memorizing their Bible verses?

  1. Evangelical Lutheran Church in America Archives; Elk Grove Village, Illinois; Congregational Records ↩︎

Sympathy Sunday: Madeleine Hoffmann

Posted on by spuddled

Our 11th recurring theme for 2026 is Sympathy Sunday, so you can assume this post will be at least somewhat depressing. In past years I’ve highlighted a “sympathy” theme from time to time, though in those instances I wasn’t always posting on Sundays, so it was actually Sympathy Saturday. Of course, I also had Funeral Card Friday, Sunday’s Obituary, Tombstone Tuesday…

Anyway, we are directing today’s sympathy at my second great-grandaunt, Madeleine Hoffmann. She was born 9 May 1839 in Mackwiller, Alsace, France. She was the daughter of Nicolas and Marie Madeleine (Freyermuth) Hoffmann and was the fourth of nine children born to them. She was born three years after Jacob Hoffmann, our emigrant ancestor.

Her civil birth record confirms her birthdate and place, though it suggests the spelling of her first name may actually have been Madelaine. It further notes that she was born at 7 a.m., the legitimate daughter of Nicolas Hoffmann, aged 38, a journalier or day laborer and of Madelaine Freyermuth, 30. The two witnesses who came forward to confirm the details regarding Madelaine’s birth were Chrétien Friederich, a 35-year-old weaver, and Nicolas Bach, a 30-year-old day laborer. Chrétien’s wife, Marie Elisabeth Hoffmann, was Madelaine’s paternal aunt. Marie Elisabeth and Nicolas’s mother was named Caroline Bach, so it seems likely Nicolas Bach was a relative as well.1

Sadly, the next information I have for Madelaine is her death record from 1842. This record confirms her death took place at 8 a.m. on 6 June 1842 in Mackwiller and that she was three years old. Her parentage details are repeated here: her father Nicolas Hoffmann was now 43 and a day laborer, listed as born in Mackwiller. Her mother Madelaine was 37 and was born in Weyer. There were again two witnesses. The first this time was Charles Freyermuth, 37, a stonemason. He is listed as a neighbor of Madelaine, though it seems plausible he may also have been a relative since he and Madelaine’s mother both shared the Freyermuth surname. The second witness was Martin Faess (if my paleography skills are holding up). He was a 49-year-old weaver, and AI tells me that the blurry word describing his relationship to Madelaine is actually oncle (“uncle”).2

I’ll have to keep researching to see where he fits into the family tree (assuming AI knows what it’s talking about here). Especially since the very next record in the Mackwiller registre de décès (death register) is for a Marguerithe Faess, aged 11, the daughter of this same Martin Faess and his wife Marguerithe Anthony, who died exactly two weeks after Madelaine.

These records for both girls are bittersweet. Since both died so young, they would not have had any descendants or a larger impact on society by which they would be remembered, but because these records do exist, we can at least commemorate them here in a small way.

  1. Registres paroissiaux et documents d’état civil de la commune de Mackwiller > Etat civil > Registres d’état civil > Naissances > 1826-1852 ↩︎
  2. Registres paroissiaux et documents d’état civil de la commune de Mackwiller > Etat civil > Registres d’état civil > Décès > 1824-1846 ↩︎

Census Sunday: Ancestors in 1801 Norway

Posted on by spuddled

This week’s new theme (because I love alliteration) is Census Sunday. And while I could choose from a multitude of U.S. census records, for this one I’m going to travel to our Norwegian homeland and the 1801 census that took place there. The Digitalarkivet, available online from the National Archives of Norway, has proven to be invaluable in filling out some of our family tree branches. Here are two examples.

First up are my 5G-grandparents, Jacob Arnesen and Ingeborg (Eliasdatter) Rodberg. In 1801 they were living in Innvik, in the Sogn og Fjordane area of Norway.1 The household was on the Rodberg farm. What looks to us like a surname was in fact the name of the farm where the family lived, though often this name did become a family’s chosen surname after emigration to America. In 1801 that household consisted of:

  • Jacob Arnesen, 46
  • Ingebor Eliasdtr, 44
  • Pernille Jacobsdtr, 17
  • Dorthe Jacobsdtr, 9
  • Mari Jacobsdtr, 5
  • Arne Arnesen, 27
  • Dorthe Andersdtr, 72

My Norwegian skills are nonexistent, but the Digitalarkivet provides a handy transcription of the Norwegian text, and I can Google. There is also this useful Norwegian vocabulary list provided by FamilySearch. With these tools, we learn that Jacob was the “husbonde,” or head of household and a “bonde og gaardbeboer,” or farmer and farm dweller. He is marriage to Ingeborg was a first marriage for both. Pernille, Dorthe, and Mari were all children of Jacob and Ingeborg; all were single.

Arne Arnesen, as you might expect from the fact that both he and Jacob used the patronymic “Arnesen,” was Jacob’s brother. His occupation, abbreviated “Nat. soldat,” indicates he was part of the area’s militia. Last in the household was Dorthe Andersdatter. She is listed as Jacob’s mother, and her marital status description, “enke efter 2det ægteskab,” indicates she had been married twice but was now a widow. Her occupation is listed as “inderste,” which apparently means something like a roomer.

Interestingly, my direct ancestor, Arne Jacobson Rodberg, born between Pernille and Dorthe, was not living at home with his parents and siblings but with Andersen Pedersen and Kari Andersdatter. He was fourteen and working as a “tienere,” or servant. Arne would marry Martha Jonsdatter Stauri in 1816, and they would have a daughter named Synneve Arnesdatter. Synneve, who has been mentioned here before, would marry Svend Arnesen Røberg in 1851, and they would be the parents of our immigrant ancestor Anders Mathis (Svendsen), who would take on the surname Roberg in the new country.

Where were Svend Arnesen Røberg’s ancestors in 1801? His mother, Ingeborg Svensdatter, had been born in 1798. Her family was living in the same Innvik parish as Jacob; their household consisted of the following individuals:

  • Svend Larsen, 39
  • Mari Christensdatter, 43
  • Ingebor Svensdatter, 2
  • Siri Svensdatter, 1
  • Jon Olsen, 18
  • Ole Olsen, 13
  • Baarni Olsdatter, 22

Some more fancy Googling reveals additional details. Svend’s marriage to Mari was his second, though this was Mari’s first marriage. Mari appears to have children by a man named Ole, however, as Jon Olsen, Ole Olsen, and Baarni Olsdatter are listed as Svend’s stedbørn, or stepchildren. Like Jacob, Svend was listed as a farmer and farm-dweller. Ingeborg and Siri, ages 2 and 1, are obviously “ugivt,” or single. The farm name I have seen listed for Svend in some sources is Fjellkarstad, but daughter Ingeborg would marry Arne Andersen from the Aland farm in 1824, and their son Svend would take on the Røberg farm/surname. I think my head is starting to spin.

  1. https://www.digitalarkivet.no/en/census/person/pf01058410000551 ↩︎

Black Sheep Sunday: Mysterious Deaths of George and Hazel Lowry

Posted on by spuddled

Almost two years ago, as I’m sure you will recall, I published a blog post regarding the death of Marguerite Lowry and noted then that the story of her brother George would fill a post of its own one day. That day has come, just in time for our fifth theme, “Black Sheep Sunday.” Though whether he can really be called a black sheep is unproven.

George W. Lowry, my sixth cousin 3 times removed, was born in December 1891 in Illinois1; or on 29 December 1892 in Spring Lake, Tazewell County, Illinois2; or on 28 December 1893 in Spring Lake3; or on 29 December 1893…somewhere4. He was the son of John Clayton and Josephine West (Golden) Lowry.

In 1900 the family was living in Isabel, Edgar County, Illinois. John was working as a farm laborer; rounding out the household were Josephine (who was listed variously in different records by her full first name, Jossie, or Josie); Bessie, 12; Jessie, 10; George, 8; Walter, 5; Marie, 3; Addie, 11 months; and a boarder named Trent Wallace.5

By 1910 George was working as a hired man for the family of Gurdin Woodruff in Sand Prairie Township, Tazewell County, Illinois.6 During World War I, George was a private in Company H, 121st Infantry. U.S. Army Transport Service documents record his departure on 18 September 1918 from Hoboken, New Jersey, listing his residence as Manito, Illinois.7 By 1920 George was living back home with his parents in Spring Lake. His father was now working as an electrical engineer at a pumping station. Both George and his brother Walter were listed as general farm laborers. New children added to the household since George was last a part of it were Margaret, 17; and Blakesly, 12. Mable Dwyer, 5, daughter of George’s now-deceased sister Bessie, was also part of the household.8

What happened to George over the next 18 months remains something of a mystery, and the sources I’ve found can only piece together so much. What is known for sure is that in Peoria on 31 October 1921, George was found dead in his bed, asphyxiated by gas from two open jets. He was 28 (maybe). With him was a woman who was either his current or former wife. I’ll run down the variations on this story as they appeared in different newspapers at the time. The Decatur (Illinois) Herald and Review of 1 November stated that George was 29 and Hazel was 27 but referred to the later as “Hazel Burhans.” The article noted that police believed the couple had “been married and divorced.” George was described as a grain sampler at the local board of trade and noted that John Bailey, a railroad switchman who had been living with the couple, discovered their bodies when he came home at the end of his workday. The article, titled “Double Suicide in Peoria,” stated that a double suicide was indicated because all windows were closed but two gas jets were turned on.9

The Chicago Tribune of 1 November 1921 stated many of the same details,10 and a similar article appeared in the Dallas City [Illinois] Review of 22 November 1921, explicitly stating that the couple were believed to have been married and divorced and to have made a suicide pact.11

A much different spin is given by a 1 November 1921 article in the Freeport (Illinois) Journal-Standard. In this article, what appear to be more correct ages for the couple are given (29 for George and 32 for Hazel), and Hazel is described as George’s wife. No mention of them having divorced is provided, though the author states that Hazel had been divorced “last August” from “a man named Renz,” and that George and Hazel had had many arguments in recent days. The biggest divergence, however, is that the author of this article noted that the coroner’s investigation had led him to believe that, rather than being a double suicide, Hazel had turned on the gas while George was sleeping.12

So what really happened that Halloween night? It’s no clearer now than it was in 1921. Death certificates for George and Hazel, signed by the aforementioned Coroner William Elliott, confirm some details. Both have 304 Warner Avenue in Peoria listed as their place of residence, and they are listed as married to each other. Hazel’s certificate lists her birth as taking place on 2 November 1887 in Braidwood, Illinois. Her parents were Peter and Ellen (Ryan) McLaughlin, both born in New York City. Her full name was listed as “Hazel Frenz Lowry,” so the account of the prior divorce appears to be correct, though the spelling of her first husband’s name is not. Her burial took place 3 November in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. George, however, was buried in the Springlake Township Cemetery in Tazewell County.

Could Hazel’s burial far from her husband suggest that her family (or his?) thought this was not just a tragic incident but a criminal one? The cause of death provided by Coroner Elliott does not offer much clarification; both death certificates state the cause of death as “Asphyxiation from illuminating gas – found dead in bed,” with a contributory cause detailed rather helplessly as “gas turned on in some unknown manner.”13

  1. 1900 Census. ↩︎
  2. FamilySearch Historical Records, Illinois Deaths and Stillbirths, 1916-1947. ↩︎
  3. www.ancestry.com, World War I Draft Registration Cards. ↩︎
  4. www.findagrave.com, www.findagrave.com. ↩︎
  5. 1900 Census. ↩︎
  6. Year: 1910; Census Place: Sand Prairie, Tazewell, Illinois; Roll: T624_328; Page: 12a; Enumeration District: 0153; FHL microfilm: 1374341 ↩︎
  7. The National Archives at College Park; College Park, Maryland; Record Group Title: Records of the Office of the Quartermaster General, 1774-1985; Record Group Number: 92; Roll or Box Number: 520 ↩︎
  8. Year: 1920; Census Place: Spring Lake, Tazewell, Illinois; Roll: T625_410; Page: 4A; Enumeration District: 183 ↩︎
  9. Decatur [Illinois] Herald and Review. 1 November 1921, pg. 9 ↩︎
  10. Chicago Tribune, 1 November 1921, pg. 6. ↩︎
  11. The Dallas City [Illinois] Review, 22 November 1921, pg. 5. ↩︎
  12. Freeport [Illinois] Journal-Standard, 1 November 1921, pg. 11. ↩︎
  13. “Illinois, United States records,” images, FamilySearch (https://www.familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:3QS7-L9KB-6GSM?view=explore : Feb 1, 2026), images 120-121 of 522; Illinois. Public Board of Health. Archives.
    Image Group Number: 004008167 ↩︎

Document Detail: Death Certificate of Samuel Slegel

Posted on by spuddled

I’ve always thought of both sides of my family as essentially midwesterners who migrated to the “Intermountain West” in the 1940s, leaving the remainder of their families (and my ancestors) behind. Today’s post, my inaugural “Document Detail” entry, takes a closer look at how things are not always as they seem.

My maternal grandparents, Joseph Benjamin and Velma Marie (Swing) Hoffmann were both certainly midwesterners. Grandpa was born in Fairbury, Illinois, and Grandma in Francesville, Indiana. They married in Peoria, Illinois, in 1938, and moved to Idaho in 1940. Though Grandma’s parents later moved to Texas, the fact that their move took place after Grandma and Grandpa’s made it seem that Grandma and Grandpa were the trailblazers, the first to really leave their midwestern roots.

On Grandpa’s side, his parents and three of his grandparents are all buried in Fairbury. One outlier, his paternal grandmother, is buried in Cissna Park, Illinois. Again, all in line with my familial identity. My maternal relatives emigrated from France, Germany, or Switzerland, wound up in the midwest, and stayed until Grandma and Grandpa set off for the west so Grandpa could hunt and fish. At least that is the lore.

But if we backtrack, we find a different story. Grandpa’s mother, Emma Alice Slagel, as I’ve said, died and is buried in Fairbury. She was born there as well. Her mother, Mary Demler, was born in Baden, Germany, married Samuel Slagel in Fairbury in 1875, and was buried in Fairbury in 1928. Samuel Slagel was born in Wisconsin in 1849 (or possibly Iowa; sources differ), eventually moving to Fairbury before marrying Mary. His parents, Samuel John and Mary (Walty) Slegel, were born in Bern, Switzerland (Samuel between 1815-1816, and Mary between 1819-1820).1 Their first child was born in France, but the remaining 11 were born in the midwestern U.S. Mary died in Iowa, though I have yet to determine exactly when.

But Samuel John? He died in…Oregon. And his was not a mid-twentieth-century move. He was living in Dairy Creek, Washington County, Oregon, by 1880, as he was enumerated there with his married son John.2 In the 1887 Washington Territorial census, he was living in Klickitat (now part of Washington State, and about 120 miles east of Washington County, Oregon).3 I haven’t found him in the 1900 census yet, which at first led me to believe he died before 1900. But Ancestry.com’s Oregon Death Index provided a death date for him of 3 February 1905,4 and when I emailed the Oregon State Archives, they responded quickly with a copy of Samuel’s death certificate.

Since the entire premise of this theme is to focus on one document in detail, I’ll do that now (finally). Right off the top (literally), what stands out is that he passed away in the “Insane Asylum” in Salem, Oregon. A quick stroll through Wikipedia tells me that what is now called the Oregon State Hospital was founded in 1862, but the current building was constructed in 1883.5

The next thing that jumps out from Samuel’s death certificate is his name. Here he is listed as “John Schlegel, Sr.” He might, in fact, take the prize for the highest number of name variations in the numerous records in which he appears. In the “Alternate Name” field in my database, he shows up as: John Schlagle, John Schlagel, John Schlegal, John Slagle, Samuel John Slegel, John Schlegle, John Slagel, John Schlegel, and John Samuel Slegel.

Whatever his name was, he is listed as 88 years old at his death, and a widower born in Switzerland who had worked as a farmer. All of that seems pretty accurate, though I do wish someone had entered an actual birthdate for him! And next we get his date of death. Interestingly, it seems that the Oregon Death Index was inaccurate, and that he died on 13 February 1905 rather than 3 February. The doctor who signed the death certificate, W. D. McNary, notes that he had attended John from 31 January – 13 February, last saw him alive on the 13th, and that John died that day at 1 p.m.

Dr. McNary gave “senile exhaustion” as Samuel John’s cause of death. This vague term describes fatigue in older adults that could be caused by any number of factors so isn’t terribly helpful. What is interesting is that Samuel’s death certificate notes that he was only at the asylum for 14 days before his death, and before that his “former or usual residence” was Banks, Oregon (which is in Washington County). So his was not a long extended stay at the asylum. Which makes me wonder what happened to necessitate taking him there on 31 January. Then the final piece of information gleaned from the document is his place of death: the Asylum Cemetery. Samuel John would not have been buried here for long; after a vote by the Oregon Legislature in 1913, all the remains in this cemetery were disinterred and cremated, some being claimed by relatives and reinterred to location designated by the family members. I’m not sure if Samuel was one of these, or where his remains are now.6 But in spite of my preconceived notions, at least three of Samuel’s children would also live and die in Oregon. It’s just that my direct ancestor wasn’t one of these three, and it took another two generations for my branch to make the journey west.

A completely unrelated postscript: in doing a quick search for the Dr. W. D. McNary who treated Samuel John, I discovered that he had been born at Klickitat, Washington, but moved to Salem, Oregon, where he served on the state hospital staff. He died in 1943. But his son, Wilson Davis McNary, Jr., died in 1941 in San Mateo, California, shot to death by someone who accused him of “stealing his girl.”7 There are a whole slew of newspaper articles about that, but that’s too much of a digression even for me.

  1. 1850 Census (n.p: www.ancestry.com, n.d). ↩︎
  2. FamilyHistory Search and/or www.ancestry.com, 1880 Census. ↩︎
  3. Washington State Archives, “Washington, U.S., State and Territorial Censuses, 1857-1892,” censuses, Ancestry.com (https://www.ancestry.com/search/collections/1018/ : accessed 25 March 2025), John Schlagel. ↩︎
  4. Ancestry, Oregon Death Index, 1903-1998. ↩︎
  5. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oregon_State_Hospital ↩︎
  6. https://www.findagrave.com/cemetery/2626933/asylum-cemetery ↩︎
  7. https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/108775348/wilson_davis-mcnary ↩︎

M Is for…Marriage Records

Posted on by spuddled

I’m going to trust the idiom about pictures and thousands of words and focus on the former for this blog post regarding marriage records. Here are the records I have (or of which I have copies) for the first few generations of my direct ancestors.

Generation 1:

26 August 1961
Caldwell, Canyon, Idaho
Theodore Richard Montgomery and Linda Jo Hoffmann
(parents)

Generation 2:

17 September 1930
Winner, Tripp, South Dakota
Lawrence Theodore Montgomery and Blanche Agnes Wilson
(paternal grandparents)
Not a marriage record, exactly, but an article from the Bloomington, Illinois Pantagraph (which makes me wonder…do I actually have the official document somewhere in all my piles?)
12 March 1938
Peoria, Peoria, Illinois
Joseph Benjamin Hoffmann
and Velma Marie Swing
(maternal grandparents)

Generation 3:

The marriage of paternal great-grandparents Charles William Montgomery and Laura Blanche Walker on 22 February 1883 in Richland County, Illinois appears in Ancestry.com’s Illinois, U.S., County Marriage Records, 1800-1940, but this database doesn’t include images, unfortunately. So moving along…

13 March 1907
Boone County, Nebraska
Carl Ozro Wilson and Sophie Christine Roberg
(paternal great-grandparents)
7 December 1902
Fairbury, Livingston, Illinois
Paul Hoffmann and Emma Alice Slagel
(maternal great-grandparents)

Another one that’s missing (why have I not written away for these??):
18 June 1913; Peoria, Peoria, Illinois; Albert Carl Swing and Lena Agnes Hunkler (maternal great-grandparents)

Generation 4:

25 December 1858
Hamilton County, Ohio
John Montgomery and Belinda Simmons
(paternal great-great-grandparents)
15 February 1857
Noble, Richland, Illinois
Marcus Walker and Mary Ann Conklin
(paternal great-great-grandparents)
Another not-quite-document, but an excerpt
31 August 1879
Brush Creek, Fayette, Iowa
Wellington David Wilson and Lucinda Blanche Davis
(paternal great-great-grandparents)
Another one that’s more of an excerpt…
3 December 1878
Rushford, Fillmore, Minnesota
Anders Mathis Roberg and Agnette Evensdatter Lien
(paternal great-great-grandparents)
17 January 1875
Renaucourt, France
Jacob Hoffmann and Christine Schmidt
(maternal great-great-grandparents)
30 November 1875
Fairbury, Livingston, Illinois
Samuel Slagel and Mary Demler
(maternal great-great-grandparents)
17 February 1884
Fairbury, Livingston, Illinois
Albert Carl Swing and Catherine Marie Hoffmann
(maternal great-great-grandparents)
14 December 1886
Peoria, Peoria, Illinois
George John Hunkler and Maria Elizabeth Rusch
(maternal great-great-grandparents)

These are not all the marriage records I have, though they do become more sparse from here on out. I would keep adding more here, but I figure this blog post is already 13,000 words long, so that will do for now.