My Search for the Past | Sharing my genealogical research into my family and my husband's family including Biermann, Schatz, Lindner, Maier, Hartley, Sigmund, Brown and allied surnames.

Oswald Kessler, I Think – 52 Ancestors #18

Posted by Cheryl Biermann Hartley on May 6, 2014 in 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks, Lindner

Entry #18

Kurt Lindner and Oswald Kessler in Sweden

This is Uncle Oswald. I deduce that he must have been Oswald Kessler, because the photo is marked “Mom L’s brother.” The handwriting is R.O. Lindner’s – that of my grandfather – hence, Mom L was Anna Marie Kessler. I remember hearing Uncle Oswald mentioned from time to time, but I guess I was too young to care. Uncle Oswald was probably born in the 1860s. The man on the left is Kurt Lindner. Kurt was Grandpa’s younger brother who moved to Sweden after WWI. I don’t know if Uncle Oswald was visiting Sweden, or if he lived there, too.

The problem is that I know almost nothing about this family. I have no idea what the names of Oswald and Marie’s parents were. There is a chance they were from Freiberg, Saxony – another clue from a different photo. I have hundreds of photos and postcards to go through. I hope that with more time and some serious study I will pick up more clues. The postcards need translating, so we will see how that goes. They are all in German and tough to read. Is Uncle Oswald mentioned in any of these missives?

Update: Uncle Oswald did live in Sweden and I now know that he had a family there. I also identified the parents of Oswald and Anna Marie as Friedrich Ernst Kessler and Johanne Christiane Kessler born (geb.) Strassburger.

Tags: Kessler, Lindner, Saxony Permalink

1 Comment

Michael Mick – Found Drowned – 52 Ancestors #17

Posted by Cheryl Biermann Hartley on April 29, 2014 in 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks, Sigmund

Entry #17
Michael Mick is my husband’s 3rd great grandfather on his mother’s side of the family. There are a few mysteries about him that keep him in the forefront of my genealogical mind these days. Michael was the son of George W. Mick and Elizabeth Park. He was born about 1834 in Plainfield, New Jersey. We are not sure how these Micks fit in with the Micks of Martha’s Furnace, New Jersey, but my mother-in-law and husband have a significant DNA connection to descendents of Michael Mick and Martha Devinney of that line.

Our Michael Mick moved to Philadelphia at some point. He married Mary B. Conklin on 16 June 1857. Their children were: David Augustus Mick (b. 1858 – ), Annie Elizabeth Mick (b. 1862 – d. 1898), Ella Mick (b. 1866 -), Mary Jane Mick (b. 1867 – 1868), William Mick (b. 1870 – ), Hannah Mick (b. 1872 –) and Charles Mick (b. 1874).

Michael Mick served in the Civil War. He enlisted in Company H, New Jersey 3rd Infantry Regiment on 01 Jun 1861 and mustered out on 30 Oct 1862 at Convalescent Camp, VA. In 1884 Michael was a resident of the National Military Home for Disabled Volunteer Soldiers in Milwaukee, where it is noted that he was injured by a gunshot wound to the left shoulder causing the loss of his hand. (I assume this means the use of his hand.) Here is another big mystery. Why was Michael Mick so far from home in Milwaukee? There were certainly closer military homes than Wisconsin. He also appears in the 1890 Veteran’s Schedule of the US Census, but back residing in Philadelphia again.

Michael Mick died under mysterious circumstances in 1895. His death certificate states that he was “found drowned” on April 28 of that year; but that is not the whole story.

Tonight I found a snippet of news about this event. I had missed it previously in my searches because it misspelled the surname as “Mack.” The news goes on to say that Michael Mack has been missing for three months and that his address is unknown.

Philadelphia Inquirer, April 29, 1895

To summarize my questions about Michael Mick:
1. How do our Mick’s relate to the Mick’s of Martha’s Furnace?
2. Why was Michael Mick in the National Soldier’s Home in Milwaukee?
3. What were the circumstances surrounding Michael Mick’s drowning?

Tags: Michael Mick, Mick, Philadelphia Permalink

2 Comments

Richard Max Otto Lindner – Always Joking – 52 Ancestors #16

Posted by Cheryl Biermann Hartley on April 22, 2014 in 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks, Lindner

Entry #16

Richard Max Otto Lindner was born 27 April 1890 in Dresden, Saxony, Germany, the middle son of Emil Max Heinrich Lindner and Anna Marie Kessler. He had two brothers, Max, who was older by two years, and Kurt, who was younger by three. This was my Grandpa Lindner and he was known to his friends and family as “Otto.” I am not sure if he liked his given name, because he always formally signed his name as “R.O. Lindner.” Grandpa liked to write his capital O’s with lots of concentric circles. I will write about Otto Lindner this week in honor of his upcoming birthday.

My grandpa was a real jokester. He loved recount to his grandchildren about the trouble he had gotten into when he was a boy. One story was about the new white suit his parents bought him. It may have been purchased for Easter, I don’t recall. He wore his brand-new white suit to visit the zoo. Otto said that he was all shined up and spiffy and feeling pretty proud of himself. He managed to get too close to the llama pen and was staring down a big llama, when it hurled a big, green, slimy wad of spit at him. Now, as you can imagine, this ruined Otto’s new suit and he said that his mother was not pleased. I am not sure if he had done anything to annoy the llama, but it seems probable.

George Dorings and Otto Lindner (right) 1903

There were other stories that fit the behavior of a mischievous child. I am sure Otto must have been a trial to his mother and father. What amazes me is that, unlike most adults, Grandpa Lindner never seemed to have outgrown his penchant for pranks or his ability to find trouble.

Case in point: Otto Lindner served in the German navy in 1911, before he came to the United States. Fortunately, I don’t think he did much more than practice maneuvers from what I can tell. Apparently, he spent most of his time working in the boiler room; I am pretty sure he was a mechanic. One day, a junior officer, hoping to sneak off on a break, asked Otto to take over the piloting the ship. My grandfather said that he then proceeded to accidentally throw the ship into reverse and backed it straight into the dock. “Did it do a lot of damage,” I asked? “Oh, yes,” he replied. “The dock was destroyed.” Otto thought this was hilarious. He would grin ear to ear, laugh with a sheepish grin and then hit himself in the forehead (a gesture that I read as meaning, “What I dummkopf I am!”) I loved my grandfather’s self-deprecating attitude. He always seemed to be amused himself.

Otto Lindner (center) with shipmates 1911

Later, when he worked for the Cincinnati Shaper Company as a machinist, Grandpa decided to play a joke on his co-workers. He rigged up a machine so he could feed in a one dollar bill on one side and it would spit out a twenty on the other side. He told everyone he could transform ones into twenties and demonstrated this to his friends, but something went wrong and the twenty dollar bill got caught in the machinery. One dollar went in, but the twenty came out mangled. Grandpa would tell the story, chuckle heartily, and hit himself in the forehead again. Twenty dollars was a lot of money at the time, but I guess Otto was able to take the currency to the bank and get the bill replaced with a fresh one.

Then, there was the rubber NOSE…We had endless hours of fun with the nose – a giant honker attached to a pair of glasses. It was pretty realistic for its day. Grandpa first introduced the nose to us by coming out of the bedroom wearing it. My sister and I giggled uncontrollably. With my two cousins, Ken and Steve, we all took turns wearing it. There was always a lot of teasing, too. “Are you wearing the nose? We can’t even tell it from your real nose,” we would taunt one another. Eventually, Grandpa let my sister and I have the nose. I remember us taking turns wearing it when we drove on the Pennsylvania Turnpike. We would try to get the attention of truckers or passengers in other vehicles. Most people would laugh and wave, but sometimes they would just stare or quickly look away. My mom said that people just could not believe that any little girl could possibly be that ugly. The nose provided hours of entertainment for my family until it finally discolored, and I think eventually dry rotted and crumbled. I learned that the NOSE predated my time in this world as evidenced by its use by Otto to dress up as a monster in 1952:

My dad (John Biermann) and Grandpa as “The Monster”

Wearing the NOSE, a wig and hat- 1952

From time to time my mother reminded me that Otto was not all fun and games. My grandmother, Alma, died quite young, leaving him with two small girls; mom was just two at the time of her mother’s death. Grandpa remarried Effie Daughters, who was nine years his senior. I don’t think he married for love, but they seemed fond of one another. The Lindners, like so many others, hit hard times during the depression. Otto had a hardware store and they had to live upstairs in an apartment above the business. I think grandpa eventually lost the store. Mom said that Otto was a strict father and I know that the family was very frugal. Otto also watched Germany destroyed by Hitler and Nazism, his home town of Dresden annihilated, and his mother killed in the horrific fire-bombing of that city. Yet, through all of this, Otto Lindner’s indomitable sense of humor was preserved.

Alma and Otto (left and center) with unknown friend

Although all of my family is of German descent, Otto Lindner was the only grandparent born in Germany. He arrived in the United States aboard the Steamship U.S.S. Grant in April 1912 to be with his recently widowed grandmother (Christiane Charlotte Püschel Lindner) in Cincinnati. Whenever Grandpa talked about his home, he spoke about what a lovely city Dresden was when he was growing up. He was very proud of how cultured the city had been with its sumptuous parks and gardens, elegant buildings and wonderful public art. That was all in the past, though. He would shake his head wistfully and remind us it was all destroyed when Dresden was bombed.

Richard Max Otto Lindner lived to be 98; he died 23 November 1988 in Cincinnati.

Marian Lindner Faller and Otto Lindner Otto Lindner – New Year’s Eve 198?

Tags: Anna Marie Kessler Lindner, Cincinnati, Dresden, Lindner, Pueschel, Richard Max Otto Lindner Permalink

1 Comment

Wilhelm Joseph Beermann – Cincinnati Blacksmith – 52 Ancestors #15

Posted by Cheryl Biermann Hartley on April 15, 2014 in 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks, Biermann

Entry #15

My three greats grandfather, Josef Wilhelm “William” Beermann, came to Cincinnati, Ohio, from somewhere in Hannover around 1859-1861. It is possible that he is the Wilhelm Beermann found on the ship’s passenger list for the Admiral Browning which arrived in Baltimore Harbor in November 1860. Three pieces of data make me like him as a choice for my William:

1. At 27 years, he is around the correct age – William was born 5 October 1832;
2. His destination was Cincinnaty (sic);
3. His city of origin was Osnabruck – I have strong suspicions that William was from the Osnabruck area.

One unexplained detail is that he was traveling with an Anna Beermann, who was 20 years old. If this was his wife, it would make it highly unlikely, although not impossible, that this is my forebear. She may have been a sister, though, or even a cousin, so I will not rule out that this is my William.

My great, great grandfather John F. Beermann was born in Cincinnati on June 6, 1862, so we know that this is the latest possible date that William arrived there. William Beermann married Mary Elizabeth Maune, who immigrated to Cincinnati around the same time. She may be the Maria Maune who arrived aboard the ship Anna in June 1861 with her place of origin being Belm, a town outside of Osnabruck. According to the 1900 census, William and Elizabeth (as she was most often known) had been married 40 years in 1900. I have not been able to find a record of their marriage among the Hamilton County records, but due to a courthouse fire in 1884, these are spotty. Some couples made the effort to document a “restored” marriage record, but many did not. I have not paid to have the Catholic records searched – that would be one more way I might find their marriage record. Another possibility is that William and Elizabeth were wed in Germany with Elizabeth joining William after he came to the United States. Finally, could Mary Elizabeth have been Anna Beermann? The recorded age for Anna is close to that of Elizabeth and it would not be the first time that a relative has gone by more than one given name.

These are mysteries that I will need to work on, because it matters in terms of finding more records from Germany. There are times when I curse this side of the family for not keeping some oral tradition alive about where they all came from. The census tells us Hannover and nothing more.

At any rate, William became a blacksmith. The little bit that I know about him from my father’s stories is that he was a large man. Supposedly he was a big, barrel-chested man with large hands. My dad says his father had a giant gold ring that belonged to William. It was so large that my father could slip in onto his big toe. William seems to have been employed by others, working in large shops with other smithies. I think of him as a quintessential German worker with a strong work ethic that has come down through my family to me. I wish I had a photo of William, but he may have been camera shy. He lived until 1909, but he does not seem to be in any of the family photos.

I was surprised to learn that William Beermann was not naturalized until 1886. That seems like a long time to have been in this country without swearing fealty. I wonder if this had anything to do with the impediment that William Beermann could neither read nor write. While not uncommon for his day, it does seem strange that apparently Elizabeth was capable of doing both. Spelling of my surname has always been an issue, even among the literate. The Beermans eventually decided to standardize their surname to the spelling “Biermann” that the family uses today, but I have found records with the name “Behrmann,” “Baarmann,” “Beiermann,” and other permutations in between.

One last odd tidbit that surfaced in recent years is my father’s belief that William Beermann fought for the Confederacy during the American Civil War. I have not been able to verify this and it makes no sense. How would a recent German immigrant to Cincinnati become aligned with Southern politics? Plus, I am dubious because I never heard this story from my dad when I was young. I am afraid that he has somehow become confused.

Tags: Beermann, Biermann, Cincinnati, Maune Permalink

Nathan Hainsworth Died in the Workhouse – 52 Ancestors #14

Posted by Cheryl Biermann Hartley on April 8, 2014 in 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks, Hartley

Entry #14

Illustrated History from Hipperholme to Tong James Parker, 1904 – also postcard collection of Maggie Land Blanck: Weaving in Yorkshire

Nathan Hainsworth (b. 15 June 1792) was a weaver from Thornton, Bradford, West Yorkshire, England to James Hainsworth and Mary (unknown). He is my husband’s third great grandfather and a contemporary of William Hartley, my husband’s black sheep, Australian convict ancestor. Nathan was documented as a worsted weaver in the 1841 census and the 1851 census confirmed that he was a hand loom weaver. Hand loom weaving in Northern England peaked between 1795 and 1805, so it seems that Nathan’s timing was dubious for entering this profession. With the advent of the industrial revolution, hand loom weaving became a career path to poverty and financial ruin. The textile industry in Northern England was a major contributor to the economy and chances are that Nathan learned the skill of hand loom weaving from his father. In barely one generation, the creation of wool textiles shifted from being a skilled handcraft to being milled in large factories with equipment running on steam power. In 1837, the Royal Commission on Hand-Loom Weavers was established in the United Kingdom to enquire into unemployment and poverty in the textile industry. An excellent summary of the weaving trade during this time period can be read online in From Weaver to Web.

Nathan Hainsworth married Sarah “Sally” Jowett in 1816 and they appear to have had eight children between 1816 and 1835. The Hainsworths were contributors to a boom in population that saw small market towns like Halifax nearly triple in size within 50 years. Seven of the offspring were daughters, including my husband’s two times great-grandmother, Mary Ann Hainsworth Hartley. The 1841 census describe that Mary Ann “goes to the mill” at age 16. Mary Ann Hainsworth married Frederick Hartely ten years later and in 1853 they emigrated to the United States where they settled in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

Nathan was shown in the 1851 census with a marital status of married, but neither Sally, nor any of the children were with him. By 1861, when Nathan was 68 years of age, he was shown in the census as a farm labourer and a widower. Apparently, he was no longer able to make a living at weaving. It is not clear whether he was affected by infirmity or if he never made a transition to factory work, but he was never again identified as a weaver. At any rate, his life seems to have been one of spiraling decline for he ended his days in the North Bierley Union Workhouse where he appears as an entry in the 1871 census at age 79. The workhouse was the place of last resort for the elderly who had no family willing or able to care for them, and Nathan was surrounded by inmates who were deemed to be “lunatics” and “idiots.” Nathan died in 1873 and it seems likely that he was impoverished and alone.

North Bierley Union Workhouse

Tags: Bradford, Hainsworth, Hartley, Thornton, West Riding, worsted weaver, Yorkshire Permalink

1 Comment

The 52 Ancestors Challenge

Posted by Cheryl Biermann Hartley on April 3, 2014 in 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks

This blog is part of the 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks blogging challenge laid down by Amy Johnson Crow at the beginning of 2014. I hope that readers will enjoy my stories as much as I am enjoying those of other participating bloggers.

Permalink

70 Comments

Martin Luther – Yes, THAT Martin Luther – 52 Ancestors #13

Posted by Cheryl Biermann Hartley on April 1, 2014 in 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks, Lindner

Entry #13

This is where the genealogy bug originated for me. No, I am not saying that Martin Luther, the Reformer, was a great family historian. I am sure that he was far too consumed with thinking about the Church and God, and igniting the Protestant Reformation in Germany, to be a genealogist. What I am saying is that from the time I was very small, I knew that I was descended from Martin Luther on my maternal grandfather’s side of the family. Martin Luther and Catherine Von Bora were my eleven times great-grandparents. Unlike a lot of family fables, this was a credible claim. I was a child who was always brimming with questions. How did we know this, I asked my mother? “Well,” replied mom, “Grandpa Lindner has a book. It belonged to Uncle Gus. Uncle Gus was a member of some kind of a society of Luther descendants.” Mom also stated that she thought the Society came to an end after World War II. “The next time we go to Cincinnati to see Grandpa,” she added, “you should ask him to see the book.”

I am not sure how old I was when Grandpa (Richard Max Otto Lindner, born in Dresden, Germany, in 1890) first brought out the book for my inspection. It was, of course, in German – in that fancy script that for me seemed to bestow an extra air of importance. Grandpa opened directly to the page where our family appeared and showed me the entry for his grandfather, Emil Heinrich Max Lindner, born in Sondershausen on 11 April 1831. There was also a supplement from 1936 with an update to our family that included my mother and my aunt. Oh, and there was an enormous chart that went with the book! Grandpa and I would unfold it, spread it out on the floor, and marvel at the number of descendants Martin Luther and Katharine Von Bora had spawned. As I grew older, the family visits to Cincinnati dwindled to once a year, but every time I stayed at my grandparents’ home it was our special ritual to pull out the Luther genealogy. Grandpa would translate our part of the book – it was like reading the Bible – one begat after another with strange German place names and the occupations of ancestors interspersed. One time I took notes on a lined steno pad – I recorded our direct lineage and held on to it for years.

Die Nachkommenschaft D. Martin Luthers

(My grandpa was notorious for writing in the books he owned.)

On 28 November 1988, Grandpa Lindner passed away at the age of 98. When I next saw my mother, she presented me with the book. The proper title is Die Nachkommenschaft D. Martin Luthers in vier Jahrhunderten. Nebst Anhang über Nachkommen seiner Seitenverwandten und vieler anderer Luther, by Otto Sartorius, published in Göttingen in 1926. My grandfather had left instructions that the book be passed down to me.

When the Internet began to blossom, I decided to look for information on the Luther Association. It had not ended with World War II as my mother supposed. I found a website and made contact with the Lutheriden Vereinigung. After a few e-mails back and forth, the Association confirmed my lineage. Although I am not an expert on Martin Luther, he does have a fascinating story. He supposedly made a pledge to enter the monastery if God would spare him when he was caught in a frightful thunderstorm. Eventually, Luther spoke out against the abuses of the Roman Catholic Church, was excommunicated, and married Katherine von Bora, an ex-nun. At first Luther was reluctant to marry, but I understand he treasured his “Katie.” They had six children together: Hans (7 June 1526); Elizabeth (10 December 1527); Magdalene (4 May 1529); Martin (9 November 1531); Paul (29 January 1533); and Margaret (17 December 1534). I am descended from Paul. Supposedly, the male lines died out, so there are no living descendants of Martin who bear the named Luther, although some Luthers may descend from his uncle or brother. There are some people who hold the opinion that the male line did survive, but I believe it is still unproven.

Update! May 2, 2020

Jamie, a reader, said that he/she is related to Martin Luther through the male line. I thought I should do some research before replying. I found new information indicating that a male line has been proven and accepted by the Luther Association. I quote from Wiki-Tree taken from the entry for

Bernhard Marianus (Conrad) Luther

Born 28 Feb 1754 in Erfurt, Thuringia, Electorate of Mainz

ANCESTORS

Son of Johann Melchior Luther and Margarethe Maria Wagner

[sibling(s) unknown]

Husband of Elizabeth (Bard) Luther — married 10 Dec 1789 in First Reformed Church, Lancaster, Pennsylvania, USA

DESCENDANTS

Father of John W Luther and William Luther

Died 4 Mar 1823 in Carroll, Cambria county, Pennsylvania, USA

“New information from Germany, 2019: Dear Mrs. Lilly Martin Sahiounie.

As genealogist of the International “Lutheriden-Vereinigung e.V.” our president Christian Priesmeier asked me to answer your inquiry (see copy below).

First of all, thank you for your kind letter with some more information on the fate of soldier Conrad Luther!

Indeed, after checking all available information we can affirm your direct descent from the Great Reformator Dr. Martin Luther (DML) via his son “Dr. Johannes Luther 1526-1575”, whose great-grandson “Simon Luther 1646-1677” was teacher at the Barfüerschule in Erfurt: His great-grandson is your ancestor CONRAD LUTHER, who came to New York 1776 as Hessian soldier and whose complete given name is

“Bernhard Marianus Conrad Luther” 1754–1823 Geburt 28.02.1754 • Erfurt, Thüringen Tod 04.03.1823 • Carolltown, Cambria, Pennsylvania, USA

With kind regards, Yours sincerely Prof. Wolfgang Alt 2019″

Here is the link to this information: Bernhard Marianus Luther

I am delighted to receive new verifiable information. There is so much more access to information in this era and genealogical research is one area that has benefited from the Internet and collaborative efforts. In my earlier version of this post, I stated that there wasn’t much new research that could be done on Martin Luther. Obviously, I was mistaken!

Portrait of Martin Luther by Lucas Cranach

Additional resources for researching a family connection to Martin Luther:

http://www.litzigerlay.de/helmert/luther/luther_stammtafel.h….

Stammbaum der Familie des Dr. Martin Luther zur dritten Secularfeier seines

Die Lutherstiftung zu Leipzig vom 18. Februar 1847 bis zum 18. Februar 1856

2017 marks the 500th anniversary of the Reformation. Read about it here.

Please report broken links through a comment. Thank you.

Tags: Anna Marie Kessler Lindner, Katherine von Bora, Luther, Luther genealogy, Lutheriden Vereinigung, Martin Luther, Otto Sartorius Permalink

1 Comment

Francis Stephan – A Teen Presumed Drowned – 52 Ancestors #12

Posted by Cheryl Biermann Hartley on March 25, 2014 in 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks, Lindner

Entry #12

This week’s entry will be short – it is a brief and tragic tale without a lot of detail. The little bit that I know comes from the story that has been passed down through several generations. To date, I have found only two records for Francis Stephan, my great-grandmother’s brother; the 1850 and 1860 U.S. censuses show conflicting information for him. He may have been born in Germany, but it is more likely that he was born in Ohio or Kentucky between 1848 and 1849. His parents were Anton “Anthony” Stephan and Catharine Helfrich. The emigrated from Bavaria (possibly from the Pirmasens area) to Mason County, Kentucky, sometime before 1850, in time to be enumerated in the 1850 census. By 1860, they had relocated across the Ohio River to Brown County, Ohio. My great-grandmother’s death record indicates that she was born in Arnheim, Ripley, Ohio, in 1856.

Anton Stephan family 1850 KY

1850 Census, Maysville, Kentucky

1860 Census, Brown County, Ohio

The Stephan family consisted of four daughters, Catherine, Elizabeth, Mary and Julia, and one son, Francis. Anthony farmed the land and it must have been a bit of a hardship to have only one son to help him.

I am not sure when tragedy struck, but it was after 1860. Family lore says that Francis disappeared sometime in his teens. No one knew what became of him, but he was presumed drowned in the Ohio River. His body was never found. My aunt said that the Stephan family never recovered from the loss. My great-grandmother apparently did not speak of her family much, but the loss of the only male child must have been devastating to a farming family. At any rate, Anthony died May 2, 1871 at the age of 60. The rest of the family seems to have dispersed to Cincinnati and Mason County, Kentucky.

I have often wondered if Francis really drowned, or if he met some other fate. There is also the possibility that he ran away. Could he have assumed a different identity in a new location? I keep looking for a possible DNA connection to someone who may be descended from Francis, but so far, it seems that is a remote possibility. It must have been heartbreaking to the family to never have resolved what happened.

There are no known photos of Francis Stephan.

Tags: Cincinnati, Francis Stephan, Maysville, Stephan Permalink

4 Comments

Claire Lindner Biermann – My Mom and My Ancestors’ Pets – 52 Ancestors #11

Posted by Cheryl Biermann Hartley on March 18, 2014 in 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks, Lindner

Entry #11

I had planned to write about my mother, Claire Lindner Biermann, later this year, perhaps on the four-year anniversary of her death in July. There are so many things that I want to say about her to express my love and gratitude; but, a new theme came up suddenly last night and it is weighing on me heavily today.

Last night, I arrived home after work and was only greeted by Pearl, my little beagle-terrier mix. It is unusual that her companion, Jett, a black Lab, was not in their special room where they spend their days. I wondered what could be so fascinating out in the yard that he failed to come in for dinner. (For the record, the dogs have a pretty cushy setup. We lock them in the guest bedroom during the day, where they have a dog door to go in and out to a nice-size fenced yard.) I called. No Jett. With mounting apprehension, I went out into the yard where I immediately spotted Jett’s lifeless form. No, no, no, no. This could not be happening; but, it was true. Our 11-year-old black Lab was dead. I had to call my husband and break the news to him, because Jett was his dog – the fur love of his life. Gary received a call in the line of duty as a National Park ranger that a dog had been struck by a truck and had crawled onto the railroad track and was lying in the balast. Gary made the rescue and called to ask me if he could bring him home. Jett had a bloody and shattered hind leg, but we paid for the surgery that required a steel rod and wire to piece him together again. He was about a year old at the time and luckily, he healed beautifully. No one claimed this dog and he became part of our life for ten years. Jett was devoted to my husband and tried so hard to please us. He was good-natured, happy and funny. When I added my Pearl to our family, she and Jett bonded instantly.

Jett the Rescued Lab

Last night, after crying my eyes out, I thought back to my mom. She definitely influenced my love for animals and taught me to be kind to them. Claire Lindner Biermann used to tell my sister and me stories about her dog Corky, the only dog she was ever allowed to have. One time Corky disappeared and was gone for weeks and Claire thought she’d never see him again; but he suddenly reappeared and he was overjoyed to see her. She was sure that someone had had Corky locked up somewhere. Mom also loved to relate tales about her cousins’ dog, Blacky, and his antics. (Well, really they were more the antics of my mom and her cousins, I think.) The only story I can still remember is how they gave Blacky what they thought was chocolate and it turned out to be laxative. Poor Blacky! My mom also liked to talk about Frankie the Pig. Frankie was the runt of the litter and Aunt Minta (who lived on a farm in Kentucky) made a pet of the piglet, allowing it in the house. Mom laughed because the pig started out as Frank. Everyone thought it was a boy, but it turned out to be a girl, so she became Frankie. My sister and I were captivated by the idea of a pig living in the house, like Arnold on the TV show, Green Acres.

Claire Lindner with Corky

Blacky, Lois, Ruth and Vera Maier Claire Lindner with Corky

Claire with Corky in the Garden Claire and Pet (1934) maybe Corky?

You could tell that my mom loved Corky a lot. It made my sister and I really want a dog of our own. Every time we asked, Mom said that she would like to have a dog, too, but that she did not think our father would approve. This was hard to understand. Dad had had his own special dog, a German Shepherd named Queenie. His family also kept a retired race horse named Sadie Herm. Why couldn’t our family just have a dog? My sister and I began a campaign of pleading, cajoling and pestering, but we seemed to be getting nowhere. Mom said it was up to Dad, and Dad’s answer was always “no.”

John H. Biermann and Queenie

Then our mother did something that was completely uncharacteristic. She hatched a plot of deceit against our father. This is the only time in her life that I am aware of that my mother advocated dishonesty. This was the scheme: Mom said that I needed to tell Dad that a classmate was giving away a myna bird. Apparently, she had gotten him to agree that we could have a pet as long as it wasn’t a dog. She was convinced that the myna bird would be a deal breaker. Dad hated birds and certainly would not want one. He would think about the myna bird compared to a dog and decide we could go the canine route. Mom was convinced her plan would work.

That was not what happened. I made my pitch about the fictional classmate and the fictional myna bird and Dad said, okay. What? This was not supposed to happen!!! Mom! Mom! Now what? There was no myna bird. What was I going to do? I was trapped in a lie (and likely to be punished for it). Mom was very calm and collected. She said to tell our father that my classmate had decided to keep her bird. Mom felt encouraged, because I now had permission to have a myna bird. We would go to the pet store to buy one. She predicted that dad would look at the birds, then look at the puppies, and the choice would be clear. She guaranteed we would come home with a puppy.

We made a family excursion to the pet store, and guess what? Our mother knew her husband pretty well. Everyone was taken by a tiny beagle puppy, including John Biermann. We brought home the puppy and named her Dolly.

Mom with Dolly (at one year) – 1965

No one doted on that dog more than our father. Later, I brought home a stray mutt from Mexico that I called Felipa. She was to be my dog when I moved away to grad school, but my parents looked after her when I traveled. After one such visit, my dad informed me that I could not have Felipa back. “You are too busy,” he said. He was now retired. He asked, “Can you walk her five times a day?” Felipa lived with my parents until the ripe doggy age of 16.

In 48 years since my family fell in love with Dolly, I have always had a dog. In fact, I’ve had eight, usually in pairs because I hate them to be lonely. I think they all had good lives. Looking back through my family photos, I see many special dogs included.

My great-grandmother, Julia Magdelena Stephan Solger Maier, grand-uncle, Will Maier, and companion, Pal Maier

I like to think that Corky, Blacky and Queenie are not forgotten because my mother kept their stories alive. I know that my relatives were fond of their animals, because they often included them in family photos. Thank you, Mom, for teaching me to love animals and for your little white lie that led to a lifetime of furry memories; and thank you, dear companions, Dolly, Felipa, Mim, Diamond, Ruby, Ranger, Jett, and Pearl for all of your unconditional love. (And by the way, please don’t tell my dad about the myna bird! It can be our little secret.)

Ranger, Jett, Pearl and Ruby about 2009

Tags: Biermann, Claire Lindner, John Biermann, Lindner, Maier Permalink

2 Comments

Anna Marie and Elisabeth Lang – When in Doubt, Test the DNA – 52 Ancestors #10

Posted by Cheryl Biermann Hartley on March 9, 2014 in 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks, Hartley

Entry #10

This is one of those serendipitous stories where truth is stranger than fiction. Allen Weirick and I met in the 10th grade through our mutual friend, Steve Tsou. We became part of a small group of friends that spent a lot of time together. This translates to having known one another for about 45 years. We have stayed friends through the years, even though neither of us lives in the same locale where we grew up.

A few years ago, Allen came to visit me in West Virginia, where my husband and I now reside. Allen has taught German on both the high school and university level, so I showed him some postcards from my husband’s family. I was hoping to get some help translating them. We found one card from Beerfelden, Hesse, Germany, that was addressed to Anna Marie Lang, my husband’s great grandmother. Anna Marie Lang was born in Germany in 1866 and came to Philadelphia around 1886. She married Joseph Köhler from Steinfurt in Philadelphia in 1889.

Autosave-File vom d-lab2/3 der AgfaPhoto GmbH

Anna Marie Lang Kohler

Allen informed me that he had the same postcard in his family collection and that one of his ancestors was a Lang from that same German town. I explained that Lang is a fairly common German surname, but Allen countered that he has visited Beerfelden, and that it is not a very large place. He felt that the common ties between Philadelphia and Beerfelden indicated a possible relationship to my husband.

I didn’t think a lot about it, but when Allen came to visit again this past summer, he brought some of his postcards and other memorabilia from Beerfelden. Together we spent some time putting together his family tree and we learned that his great grandmother was Elisabeth Lang from Beerfelden. She was born in May 1871 and emigrated to Philadelphia in 1890. She married Joseph Grather there in 1897. We were not able to determine the parents for Elisabeth or Anna Marie, so we still did not know the answer to the big question. Could Allen and Gary be related?

Beerfelden, Hesse, Germany

Shortly after Christmas, Ancestry DNA was having an autosomal DNA sale. I decided to give Allen a DNA test kit as a belated birthday gift. Friday night, we finally learned the results of the test. With a 98% level of confidence, my good friend, Allen, and my husband are 3rd or 4th cousins! You really couldn’t make this stuff up!

I have not worked much on the Lang line. I really wasn’t sure that Anna Marie was from Beerfelden, but Allen knows that Elisabeth was. He has even visited the family ancestral home there. The DNA points to Anna Marie and Elisabeth as being sisters. There may also be a connection to Weidenthal, based on another postcard. It looks like I have a path for my research now and a new favorite cousin!

Update: The record shows that Allen and Gary are indeed third cousins. Anna Marie Lang and Elisabeth Lang were sisters. Their parents were Jacob Lang of Beerfelden and Barbara Ackermann of Weidenthal.

Tags: Beerfelden, DNA, Kohler, Lang, Philadelphia Permalink

← Older posts

Newer posts →

Post navigation