The Family Masonic Bible

There have been countless times when I have been sitting at my desk in the lodge room looking up and down the sidelines wondering where my grandfather used to sit during meetings. It is a connection that I have with my grandfather despite never having the chance of getting to know him while growing up. Lodge is something that we have in common and I am always reminded of that when I see his ring on my finder and, now, when I look at the family Bible which I have been using recently for my genealogy research.

When I was raised just over three years ago, my mom pulled me aside and handed me my grandfather’s Masonic ring. She knew that I would appreciate and take care of it. She also knew that I was one of the few people in the family who would actually use it as there are not many masons in my family. The ring meant a lot to my grandfather, it means a lot to my mom, and it certainly means a lot to me. Now, just over three years later, my mom again pulled me aside and told me that she wanted to give me my grandfather’s Masonic Bible. The ironic thing is that my grandfather was presented his Bible just over three years after being raised and now I am being presented with that same bible just over three years since I was raised.

Not only was this the Bible presented to him by his lodge but it has also served as the family Bible with my grandparent’s marriage having been recorded in its pages and my grandmother having recorded many of the births and deaths throughout her life. Between the covers there are names across many generations from the death of my great great grandfather all the way through the birth of my niece... my name can be found in these pages too. All written in my grandmother’s hand.

I remember seeing my grandmother with the blue binding on her lap flipping through the book and pulling out the papers tucked between the pages. This became a more and more regular occurrence toward the end of her life. It was also one of the few things that my mom wanted to hold on to after my grandmother passed away. I know how much this Bible meant to my grandmother and I know how much it means to my mom. I am being entrusted with its safe keeping and it is not something I take lightly. After all, this is not just an item that resonates with me as a mason, it is a connection to my grandfather, my grandmother, and my mom.

Sunday Search: Mother’s Day And Maiden Names

This Mother’s Day I wanted to discuss an interesting situation that comes about in many of the genealogy conversations that I have with others. Unfortunately, the sentiments that follow are not restricted to those only now just starting their research… I have encountered many knowledgeable family historians that just seem to be stuck in a certain mindset. The issue is rather simple, and appropriate for this day, in that there are too many people only focusing on a fraction of their family history by overlooking the wealth of lineal knowledge that exists in a maiden name.

In several instances lately I have spoken to individuals who can, at great length, discuss the history of their surname and can also speak intelligently about their own mother’s line (and sometimes the lines of their grandmothers). However, that is where there maternal ancestry stops. Once they go back a couple of generations it seems as though they have forgotten that there are multiple paths that we can take into the past through both husbands and wives.

First, let me start with the fact that I am proud to have my mother’s maiden name as part of my own, serving as my middle name. It has allowed me to carry with me the surnames of both of my families and I do my best to remember that each day. Second, now as a father, I better understand the importance of teaching my son about all the families that he represents and I look forward to sharing that knowledge with him. Third, I have explored many of the different lines in my tree weaving between husband and wife and I can attest to the rich tapestry that is revealed when you allow yourself to take this journey.

There is so much more to who we are than simply our male descendants and the surname that we each carry. It is with this in mind that I encourage everyone to not just remember your mothers on this day but all the mothers in your family tree that have each had an impact, large or small, known or unknown, on who you are. Without the women in our family we would not have life… we would not have the layers upon layers of history and the fascinating lacework that is our own family genealogy. Mothers are what make genealogy possible and we should always remember that and honor them by knowing about all sides of the family.

What’s In A Name?

One of the hardest if not the hardest decision that my wife and I have had to make was when we had to come up with a name for our son. We went back and forth countless times and consulted more books and websites than I can recall each time writing down anything that appealed to us. We couldn't decide between choosing a traditional Jewish name and those names that can be found in our extensive family trees. After we each wrote a few options down we would share with one another. This eliminated many of the options. More still were eliminated when we considered the names of some of our young relatives.

After several months going back and forth we had a few options both of first names and middle names, Jewish names and family names, some that we both really liked and others that had a certain amount of indifference with one or both of us. About a week before our son arrived we sat down and looked at the options that we both liked. We played around with the names switching between first and middle as well as family and non-family names. We also considered some of the surnames on my wife’s side for the middle name… after all it has worked for me.  

I guess there were about 5 first and 5 middle names that it came down to. Not being able to figure out what exactly fit our son we both took turns just saying them out load to see what sounded right. This is when we notice something very special. Each time we read the names our son decided to cast his vote. It didn’t matter whose voice, he consistently kicked, punched, or head butted when we would say each name… one first and one middle. Not many parents can say that their son chose his own name but we can.

His first name is one that runs throughout both sides of my family. When looking throughout the tree I see it across many branches with various surnames in tow: Teaford, Hallman, Uttley, Redcross, Cooke, Clapsaddle, Ardis, Noblit, and a few others. It runs throughout the generations and it has always been a family name. In addition to the recent significance and honor that the name carries it was also the name of my great great grandfather Uttley, a member of the Philadelphia Police Department for over 50 years, who raised my grandmother after her parents divorced. My 5^th great grandfather Redcross, member of the Monacan Nation and Revolutionary War soldier. My great grandfather Hallman who served in WWI. My 5^th great grandfather Noblit, one of the early residents of Middletown Township in Delaware County who saw much of his property seized during the Revolution.

With our son selecting his first name from my side his middle name had to be one of significance in my wife’s family. Thankfully our son agreed and chose a name which, according to what I have been told is the name of the last in a long line of Rabbis on my wife’s side. My wife’s great grandfather Greenburg may have passed nearly a decade before she was born but his legacy still lives to this day. Born in Romania and having come to the United States around the turn of the 20^th century as a child, he supported his family the best he could and raised my wife’s grandmother whom she still misses. In the end, our son chose names from the men who raised both of our grandmothers to which we were very close. He also made picking a Hebrew name really easy. 

So some many see it and wonder how we came up with the name and we have been asked that many times over. We did consider the origins of the names (which did seem to fit our son) but the family meaning behind them is far more significant. While we have both given the short answer during the course of conversations, now you have the full story behind the name. Our son has a part of each of us, myself and my wife, but more importantly he carries with him a long family history on both sides of which he can be proud and all he has to do to remember that is look at his own name.

Car Conversation

William Edgar Yeagle's World War I draft registration card...
after the marriage but before the divorce.

On my way home from the office last week I decided to take a chance, pick up the phone, and follow up on a letter I had sent the previous Monday. It was sent in the hope of finding a few missing pieces on my mom’s side of my family tree. After a few rings a woman picked up the phone clearly not recognizing the number. On the other end of the line was a woman who was a bit surprised by my correspondence but happy to share everything that she knew about my great grandfather, William Edgar Yeagle.

My great grandparents were married in 1914 and soon after had my grandmother. Within a few years they had divorced and not long after that, in about 1920, my great grandfather had remarried and had another daughter, Alma. The woman I spoke with was Alma’s daughter who, as it turns out, was raised by her grandfather and still lives in the same house that he did many years ago. She knew her grandfather well and was raised by him when her father left. She knew that he was married once before but she was told a complete different story as to what happened in the first marriage. As it turns out, after my grandmother refused to have anything to do with him or her half-sister Alma, my grandmother’s name was forgotten. Only the story remained as to what caused the marriage to dissolve.

The facts passed down in my family were rather clear cut… William was an abusive drunk disliked by my great grandmother’s family. Having a child did not change that fact and, in the end, divorce was the only option. After that, my great grandmother took her child and moved in with her father. He would serve as the male figure in my grandmother’s life until his death in 1941 at the age of 92 (more about him in a later post).

It should be no surprise that this was not the same story that was passed down in William Yeagle’s second family. The story that I was told over the phone was that William owned a bakery but was working too many hours for my great grandmother. So that he wouldn’t work so much, she forced him to sell the bakery. Not long after that she left him despite his efforts. Not liked by my great grandmother’s family, he was cut off from his daughter.

So, the only commonality between the stories is that my great grandmother’s family didn’t like him. But let’s take a step back and look at the other facts that we have. While there is a William Yeagle who owned and operated a bakery during that period of time it was not the man that we are discussing in this post. It was his uncle, William Ludwig Yeagle. Furthermore, in every census record and directory listing from 1900-1952 at no point was he ever listed as a baker. Seems like that part of the second story doesn’t really hold up.

What about the version of the story that was passed down in my family? Well, in those same census and directory records, interspersed between various other occupations, we can see that on several occasions William Edgar Yeagle lists his occupation as Bartender (basically be bookended the Prohibition Era with official listings as a bartender). Makes you wonder what he was really selling as a ‘salesman’ during that time of illegality. While that alone is not enough to verify this version of the fact I tend to believe my family’s story. Why? Because of a simple fact that my three times great grandfather was a Philadelphia Police Officer for 54 years and there was probably good reason for him not liking him.

While I look forward to meeting this woman and discussing some of the missing branches in our tree, I do so carefully knowing that many of the initial ‘facts’ already don’t add up. Of course, this is part of the process when researching your family. Sometimes you will have two sets of information completely different from one another and investigate to see which option makes the most sense. It is all part of the process of filling in and pruning the family tree.

Trade Deadline

Based on a few previous posts and the other daily blog that I have, it should be no surprise that I am a baseball fan. I always have been and always will be even when things aren’t looking so good for the Phillies. This season has been a perfect example of the latter. It has been a means for me to bond with my dad, mom, and grandmother throughout the years and was one of the primary means of forming friendships during my childhood.

It is a game that I understand the ins and outs where, at least until recently, there have been few rules changes and alterations to the game. For the most part it has remained a game unchanged and while there have been alterations recently, the general strategy and gam play involved remains intact. Every pitch is thrown purposefully with every player, at least the great ones, knowing how to consider the numerous factors at play with every ball thrown from the mount, thwack of the bat, and kicking up of dirt from the base runner. Of course, that might just be from my time on the mount and behind the plate.

One of the more interesting days during the season is going on right now… the major league trade deadline. It is a time when measurable and intangibles are at play in deciding what players will be changing uniforms. It is a time to push for a ring, cut losses, or plan for the future. With the Phillies completely out of the race, I have been anticipating a flurry of moves today but, like much of this season, I am heading into this evening disappointed.

Like most seasons, there have been plenty of moves made throughout the sport but none of the trades had anything to do with the Phillies beyond eliminating trade partners. While it is one thing to watch a team falter on the field for over half a season, during those years of less than spectacular play, the young talent brought up and the new faces brought in have, in many instances, offered some hope for the spring. The Phillies front office remained stagnant leaving the quality of play to fester on the field and the horizon that is spring to become covered with the storm clouds of another tumultuous season ahead.

So, disappointedly I wait for the next game to begin hoping that the waiver wire is soon filled with players that I had such high hopes for at the beginning of the year. Maybe, just maybe, the spring clouds will clear and next season will be filled with anticipation of the performances of prospects and newly acquired talent. Of course, we are talking about Ruben Amaro so I’m still going to bring an umbrella with me to Spring Training.

Searching For My Great Grandfather

This is my great grandfather's WWII draft registration card... his granddaughter lives at the same address today.

I only had one grandparent still around when I was growing up and my grandmother and I would talk all the time. You would think that I would know the ins and outs of her family tree but the fact of the matter is that I know very little. She spoke very little about her childhood so all I really have are the pictures from her growing up to go by.

However, there is one person that is missing from every photograph which isn’t much of a surprise since I never remember his name having ever been mentioned in conversation. This is why I know so little, less than almost any other person on my tree, about my great grandfather. Of course, my grandmother didn’t know much about him either and never wanted to.

My grandmother was an only child raised by a single mother and her family in Roxborough. My great grandparents were only married for a few years before they got divorced (married in 1914, divorced in 1918) for reasons that I have no way of confirming (most of the stories revolve around abuse of some sort). My great grandmother never remarried (although she did have her friend and lived with him until the day he died) while my great grandfather returned to the Pottstown area, remarried, and had another daughter. With the exception of some census record and various other documents that is all I know about him.

 I know when he was born and I know where he lived but I have little information beyond that… I don’t even know when he died except that I know it was after 1953. I have been able to piece together the line from his second marriage. I know the wife’s name, the daughter’s name, and the granddaughter’s name. Fortunately for me, the granddaughter either kept her maiden name or never married because I was able to find her listed in the White Pages.

At first I wasn’t sure if it was the same woman that I was looking for but it was the right city and the right age so I looked for anything else to verify her identity. On a long shot I pulled up my great grandfather’s old address and I was shocked to find that it was a match. This has got to be her.

At this point, the letter is in the mail. I hope to soon put a face to a name and, hopefully, good or bad learn a little more about my family. For now, I will wait and hope that my letter is well received. I will revisit this journey and update you all in a future post.