Fred Ray Macbeth: 52 Ancestors Prompt "Brother"

Fred Ray Macbeth 1906-1943

            Fred Ray Macbeth was my maternal grandfather’s brother and my great-uncle. He was born December 30, 1906 to Walter and Lucy Dane Macbeth. He was the youngest of their sixth children, and was always referred to by his middle name “Ray”.

            Ray grew up on the family farm outside Mankato in Le Ray Township, the farm that my grandfather, Ivan Macbeth, would eventually take over from his parents. 

   Lucy and Walter Macbeth and their six children. Ivan at far right, and I believe Ray is at    the left, with Harold in the middle.

            When Ray was young, he apprenticed as a mason in Toledo, Ohio, living at 929 Brinton Dr. in the Five Points region. It was a new single family home at that time, built in 1925; I expect he was a boarder. I don’t know how he came by this opportunity or how he ended up in Toledo—I don’t know of any family members who lived there. He was already acquainted with young Ila Fern Smith, who grew up on a farm near the Macbeth place. Somehow, Fern (she too went by her middle name) also ended up in Toledo, living just two miles away in the Deveraux neighborhood at 2204 Rood Street, also a newer single family home. The addresses were contained on their marriage certificate—they married in Toledo on July 6, 1929, just months before the stock market crash and a year after my mother’s birth back in Minnesota.

                                   Ray and Fern's marriage record from Toledo, Ohio                          

            By the date of the 1930 census, Ray and Fern were living at 1619 Oakwood Avenue, with Fern’s younger sister Bernice. Ray was still employed as an apprentice mason for a building contractor. The Oakwood house has since been torn down; only an empty lot remains in what is now obviously a ghetto area of Toledo. Ray and Fern’s son, Wilfred Ray Macbeth, was born while they were living there, on May 5, 1930.

            By the time Ray and Fern’s daughter, Renee Aline, was born on December 23, 1932, the couple was back in Minnesota, where Ray turned to farming, working his father’s land with his brother Ivan. I suspect the start of the Great Depression destroyed the construction industry in Toledo, leading to unemployment for masons like Ray. This must have been a difficult time for the family. Ivan had been farming the land alone for several years, having married a couple years before Ray and Fern. Now he had to make the farm support both families. Ray must have been frustrated and depressed, having escaped a life of farming but now being forced to return to it after having spent so much effort and time learning a good trade.

            Ray and Fern moved to a small house near her parents’ farm in the McPherson area of Blue Earth County. My mother remembers that the family called it “the little place”. I can see why from the photo. There can’t have been more than four small rooms. 

            My mother remembers that Ray was a heavy smoker when she knew him. The two families saw quite a bit of one another, as the children were all within a few years of each other, and the parents had all grown up near one another. My mother was close to Ray’s daughter Renee, a pretty blond, and numerous photos feature the Macbeth cousins of Renee, Ione and Joanne, daughter of Ivan and Ray’s brother Harold. My mother Ione disliked her cousin Wilfred, however, who frequently teased and mocked her and destroyed some of her toys. She was still angry in her nineties at the memory of Wilfred laughing uproariously when she fell off a hay rack, breaking her ribs. Interestingly, Wilfred the prankster became a minister.

                                                       Renee, Joanne and Ione Macbeth

            Ray and Ivan continued to farm together into the 1940s. Ray registered for the draft in 1940, and his draft card states that he was five feet ten inches tall, with blue eyes, brown hair, and a light complexion, the same description used for my grandfather Ivan when he registered two years later. 

            Unfortunately, Ray's smoking habit caught up with him. He developed throat cancer, and died at the brutally young age of 36 on January 19, 1943. My mother said her father Ivan tried to care for Fern and the two children, providing money and assistance, as did Fern's parents. I am not sure how the Macbeth farm land was owned. I suspect it remained under the ownership of the brothers' father, Walter, until his death in 1955 when it passed to Ivan. Therefore, Fern may have been left without a share of the farm or the investment property Walter owned in Mankato. Fern went to work to support her children. She moved to Mankato and worked as a cook, a clerk, and then a sealer for an automotive electrical manufacturing company. Fern also died young, at age 50, on May 19, 1959. 

Fern and Ray's graves

            Ray and Ivan seem to have had a special relationship. They were not only close in age, but ended up working together to farm the land they grew up on. They looked quite a bit alike, and had the same vice, cigarettes, that destroyed their health (Ivan died of emphysema in his sixties). They had two children each, one son and one daughter. They also each considered non-farming careers before returning to farming. They were brothers of the heart as well as brothers by birth.

Paul Mayott: 52 Ancestors Prompt “Challenging”

Paul Mayott: 1917 or 1918 to 1929?

The 52 Ancestors challenge paired the prompts “Easy” and “Challenging”. For my “Easy” post, I examined the short life of Penn Soland, who died at age 25 in WWII, noting that short lives were often easy research subjects. However, a short life can also be challenging, particularly when the person resided in a state without centralized, searchable records.

Young Paul Mayott, my second cousin once-removed on my mother’s side of the family, is one of those mysterious child ancestors who appear briefly and tantalizingly in records, only to disappear without a trace. 


Paul was the only son of my cousin Zella (sometimes called Catherine) Macbeth. Zella, born in 1888, had a wild early life, running off at age 16 with a carnival calliope player who abandoned her months later. She divorced him—quite scandalous at the turn of the century—and remarried sometime between 1910 and 1918. The marriage probably took place in Wisconsin, as that is where she appears on a census record in 1920, living with her husband Paul Francis Mayott and her two-year-old son Paul Mayott in Ward 2 of Milwaukee.

Wisconsin’s marriage, birth and death records are difficult to find on Ancestry and other genealogy sites. Apparently I have to go to Wisconsin to do research or hire someone to do it for me. Therefore, I have no birth record for young Paul, so must merely surmise he was born in late 1917 or early 1918. 




By 1930, Zella appears on the census as a widow with no children. She is still living in Milwaukee, but by July 30 of that year, she has moved to Indiana where she married a third time to a Fred H. Williams, a lodger in her Milwaukee apartment.


So what happened to her son Paul? What happened to her husband Paul Francis Mayott? I can find no death or burial records for either.

Some grisly newspaper articles from November 3 and 4 of 1929 may shed some light on young Paul’s fate. Wisconsin and Chicago newspapers reported that a 12-year-old boy named Paul Mayott fell four stories down a ventilation shaft at an abandoned school in Milwaukee on November 3. He was playing on the roof of the building with three friends, jumping over the shaft, which was covered with a metal grate. He failed to make it across and the grate collapsed under his weight. He fell to the first floor of the building.

His friends sought help, and he was extricated by police and taken to the hospital. He suffered internal injuries, a compound fracture of his leg, and a double break of his right arm. He died of his injuries a day later on November 4. 

The Chicago newspaper article lists a home address of 160 Knapp Street, and also states that his friends were from Astor and Jackson streets. I studied a Milwaukee map, and see that this area matches the neighborhood that Zella and her husband were living in in during the 1920s according to city directories. By the 1930 census, Zella is living in the “Juneau Apartments” which is the other side of the block from Knapp. The age of the dead child also matches Zella’s son. I suspect this tragic story explains Paul’s mysterious disappearance from Zella’s life.

                                                    Locations from the Mayott reports


I will keep researching the Milwaukee area, attempting to find records of Paul’s death that would include the names of his parents. Even a newspaper obituary would provide some sort of evidence. I have been unable to locate a Milwaukee newspaper for this period either—the articles I found were from Chicago, Green Bay and other regional cities, and included no mention of the dead boy’s parents. Milwaukee is proving to be a research black hole for this time period.


Until I find conclusive records, young Paul Mayott will remain a challenge.

Hoffman Family Three Generations Photo: 52 Ancestors Prompt "Reunion"

52 Ancestors Prompt “Reunion”

Hoffman Three Generations Photo: 

William Hoffman: 1864-1932

Elmer Hoffman: 1903-1962

Delmer Hoffman 1929-1998

            My grandmother’s family, the Hoffmans, were very fond of family reunions, and I can remember attending several as a child. My grandmother, Nora Hoffman Macbeth, had seven siblings, and her father, William Henry Hoffman, had twelve siblings, so the reunions, usually held at a park in Mankato, could be large gatherings. Picnic tables would be lined up, covered with dishes each family contributed, so everyone could grab a plate and enjoy a huge potluck luncheon. Hours were spent relaxing in lawn chairs, swatting mosquitos, and catching up on family news. 


            For this particular prompt, I am using a photo that I believe was taken at a family event, featuring three generations of Hoffman men: my great-grandfather William Henry Hoffman, his only son, Elmer William Hoffman, and the oldest of Elmer’s six children, son Delmer Edward Hoffman. 

  William Henry Hoffman, Elmer William Hoffman, & Delmer Edward Hoffman, ca.1931


            This photo was taken only a year or so before my great-grandfather’s death. William died at age 67 in 1932. Delmer was born May 3, 1929. He looks like he is about one and one half to two years old in this photo, which would place it in the fall of 1930 or the spring of 1931. 


            The photo shows the family resemblance between father William and son Elmer—they share the same broad forehead and long, lean face tapering down to a narrow chin. All three Hoffmans have good heads of hair, although young Delmer still sports the blond curls of early childhood. 


            It is interesting to note that all three of these Hoffman men died at comparatively young ages: William at 67, Elmer at only 58, and Delmer at 69. 


            This photo reminds me how many years the Hoffman family had been enjoying family gatherings, and how reunions provide opportunities to share experiences across generations.

Penn Daniel Soland: 52 Ancestors Prompt "Easy"

Penn Daniel Soland: 1919-1944

52 Weeks, 52 Ancestors Prompt: Easy 

“Easy” searches are often tragic ones: it is easiest to sketch out the life of someone who died young—a short life has only a few pieces of information to locate. My second cousin on my father’s paternal side is one of those ancestors whose lives were cut too short and too cruelly.

Penn Daniel Soland was born December 8, 1919 in Vergas, Minnesota. He was the eighth child of the nine born to Lambert Soland and my first cousin once-removed Amanda Trosdahl. Vergas is located in Otter Tail County, and the Solands were farmers in the Candor area.

According to the 1930 census record, the family still spoke Norwegian at home, but then ten-year-old Penn attended school and would have learned to read, write and speak in English as well. By the 1940 census, Penn reported that he had completed the 7^th grade of school. In 1940, he was still living with his parents on the family farm, and was working for his father as a farm laborer, along with two of his brothers.

When WWII began, Penn registered for the draft in July of 1941. His draft card provides the only description of him that I have found: he was six feet tall, 160 pounds, had black hair, blue eyes and dark complexion. He sounds like a striking young man.

Penn joined the army, and was assigned to the 134^th Infantry Regiment in the 35^th Infantry Division. The unit trained extensively in the United States, where Penn rose to the rank of Sergeant. According to a history of the regiment, the 134th Infantry departed from New York aboard the Navy Transport USS General A.E. Anderson on May 11, 1944, and disembarked at Avonmouth, England on May 25^th. From there they moved to France in early July.

Penn’s regiment fought in numerous battles in France through that summer and into the fall. In October of 1944, his regiment was fighting for control of the town of Fossieux. They lost control of it on October 9, but regained it on the tenth. That was the day Penn lost his life.

He was awarded the Bronze Star and Purple Heart for his bravery in battle. Penn was buried in St. Avold, France, in the huge Lorraine American Cemetery, where over 10,000 servicemen who fell in World War II are buried. He lies beneath a white marble cross, amid rolling fields of crosses and monuments honoring the fallen.

Penn was two months shy of his 25^th birthday at his death. While it was easy to find the facts of his life, his sacrifice and the sacrifice of all those other young men was far from easy. I honor the memory of my brave second cousin.

Oscar Peterson Log Cabin Legend: 52 Ancestors Prompt "Legend"

52 Weeks, 52 Ancestors Prompt: Legend

Oscar Peterson House: The Log Cabin Legend

                My father’s brother, Oscar Peterson, owned the farm across the road from my father’s farm.  The farm had a large barn to house Oscar’s milk cows, a pasture and grove, and a small house with perhaps 5 rooms and a bathroom. Oscar and his wife, Mabel Mork Peterson, raised two children in this small home, my cousins Elaine and Roger Peterson.


                Aunt Mabel sometimes referred to her home as “the log cabin”. I hadn’t paid much attention to this claim. I thought she was joking about the house’s rather cramped and awkward construction. But this was no joke and no legend--Mabel was being serious. as I discovered to my shock years later When Roger and his wife Karen decided to replace the old house with a newer, more spacious and up-to-date home a few years ago, I discovered to my shock that beneath the house’s white siding and newer roof was a real log cabin. 

Roger had known about the cabin, and had hired a St. Peter-based company called Terrasol run by Angie Haack and Mark Johnson to dismantle the building. The company specializes in building new log cabins using wood salvaged from old buildings like Oscar’s cabin. Terrasol carefully deconstructed the cabin, saving the logs and other materials for reuse. The company constructs modern cabins for clients who want all the bells and whistles of new construction, yet appreciate history and want to use vintage materials. The salvage process was covered by the local paper.

So how did my uncle, aunt and cousins come to be living in a well-disguised log cabin? The property was originally owned by the Roland family, Norwegian immigrants who arrived several decades before my Peterson ancestors. Niels or Nels Christenson Roland was born in Norway around 1821, as was his wife, recorded variously as Oline or Olive, and his three oldest children, Peter, Christian and Mathias. According to local records, they live in Faaberg near Lake Mjosen.

From the 1880 census record below, we see that Mathias, age 15, was born in Norway in 1865, while daughter Mary, age 11, was born in Minnesota. Thus we can approximate their arrival in America as occurring between 1866 and 1869. The 1900 census states they immigrated in 1866. 

Roland family census record from 1900

According to a township history written by Ole Synsteby (see bibliography below), the Rolands first occupied a sod house on the land they were homesteading in Section 24 of Brown County in the late 1860s. Synsteby writes, “At first (Roland) also lived in a dugout, but later built a log house, and this log house happened to be right in the path of the cyclone that smashed up the Unitarian church, just built that summer; the roof was torn off Roland’s house, and some of the upper logs were dislocated, but none of the family were hurt.”

The Rolands’ youngest son, Nels, was born December 9, 1870, probably in the log cabin. By the 1900 census, Nels is 29, and is working as a teacher. He was still living with his parents, three siblings, and a niece. By this point, my grandparents are living across the road with the first three of their children, beginning a long period of friendship between the two families. 

By 1910, Nels’ brother Christian has moved out, and Nels has taken over as head of household and the main farmer in the family, helped by his 47-year-old brother Mathias. His parents are in their late 80s, so sister Mary was serving as the main housekeeper for the family. The census also shows that the Peterson household across the road has now added 7-month-old Oscar to the family.

By 1920, Nels’ situation has changed dramatically. His parents have died. His brother Mathias has ended up in the St. Peter State Hospital, which housed both mentally ill patients and also served as a sanitorium for tuberculosis patients. It is unclear which category Mathias fell into. Nels and Mathias’ sister Mary has married a cousin named Christian Roland and is living in Rapidan, Minnesota.  Nels has been left alone in the log cabin, running the farm by himself.

As Nels grew older, he realized he would need help, both to run the farm, and to cook and take care of the house. My uncle Oscar was courting Mabel Mork, and hoped to get married, if only he could find a way to buy a farm so he could support a wife and family. According to family legend, Nels and Oscar came to an arrangement. Oscar and Mabel would move into Nels’ home and would take over running the farm. They would care for Nels, who was now in his 60s, and in return, Nels would leave Oscar the farm at his death. 

                                      Mabel Mork/Oscar Peterson wedding

Oscar and Mabel married on March 6, 1931, and apparently moved into Roland’s cabin following the wedding. Ole Synsteby’s book, written in 1933, notes that in Section 24, “there is only one man of the old pioneer family living on his father’s old homestead and owning it, and that is Nels Roland Jr.”

Oscar and Mabel’s daughter Elaine was born July 2, 1932, and son Roger was born January 28, 1939. The 1940 census shows the four Petersons living at the Roland farm with Nels, who is listed as “owner” while Oscar is listed as “head” of the household, with farming as his occupation. Nels was 69 by this date. 

Nels eventually dies in 1955. I am not sure whether he was still living with Oscar and Mabel at this point, or if he moved in with his sister or another relative as he entered his 80s. The death record only lists the location of death as “Brown County”. I have found no record of his will or estate settlement, so I’m not sure exactly when Oscar became the actual owner of the farm and the log cabin.

At some point, the cabin was remodeled. An addition was built, the home was sided and storm windows were installed. An asphalt shingle roof was put on, and the interior had plumbing, electricity, central heating, insulation and wall boards added, completely covering up the log walls that lay beneath. The home I remember did not look like a cabin at all. 

Oscar died in 1966, and Mabel died in 1979. By that time, Roger had married and taken over the farm, and Mabel was living in a mobile home just east of the cabin/house.

                     House with Roger and Karen's daughters Brenda and Beth

I still find it hard to believe that there was a log cabin just across the road from my home all these years and I never realized it. What an exciting discovery. I am so grateful that my cousin made the choice to reuse and repurpose this little piece of area history.

Bibliography:

Interesting Tales of Pioneer Days in Lake Hanska and Vicinity by Ole Synsteby. Written in 1933, published in 1942, and reprinted by the Brown County Historical Society, Copyright 2017. Quotes from pages 37 and 39.

Randine "Randy" Peterson: 52 Ancestors Prompt "Independent"

52 Ancestors Prompt: Independent

Randine “Randy” Peterson 1899-1965

            My aunt, Randine Peterson, known for most of her life as Randy, was born February 10, 1899, the second child of nine born to Regina Syverson Peterson and Paul Peterson, my grandparents. She grew up on the Peterson farm outside the small town of Hanska, Minnesota.

            Most of Paul and Regina’s children remained in the Hanska area after they became adults, often marrying neighbors. Randy was different. By the time of the 1920 census, she had left home to make her own way in the world. She couldn’t have been more than twenty when she left. While I haven’t been able to find a 1920 census record for her, by the time of the 1930 census, she was the part owner of a restaurant in Minneapolis. As far as I know, the family had no connections or relatives in the Minneapolis area; Randy moved to the big city on her own.


            Unlike her sisters, Randy never married. She was a tall, spare woman, taller than any of her five sisters. She visited her home town and her family regularly, but remained a Minneapolis area resident for the rest of her life. 

                                   1930 census shows Randy as part owner of restaurant

             She first lived as a lodger in someone else’s home, but by the 1940 census she was renting her own home at 44 North 16^th in Minneapolis, and described herself as a fry cook. My brother believes the restaurant was more a diner than a fine dining establishment, but it provided a solid living for her. By the time of her death, she seems to have bought a house in the Richfield area, at 7527 Penn Ave. South. The home was newly built in 1959, so Randy may have been the original owner. 

                                                    Randy's house at her death in 1965


            Like many of her siblings, Randy died from a heart attack at a fairly young age. She was only 66 years old. I have few clear memories of her, as I was only six years old when she died on Valentine’s Day, 1965.

                                          Peterson siblings--Randy front far right, tallest

            I remember her as being tall and rather imposing, with a deeper voice than her sisters. Her hair was always fixed nicely, and she preferred to wear dresses at family gatherings. I wish I knew more about her and her life. Unlike her sisters, Randy forged her own path, and remained independent and self-reliant. 

Mother's Memories: 52 Ancestors Prompt "Dear Diary"

Ione Norene Macbeth: 1928-2019
52 Ancestors Prompt “Dear Diary”
 

Dear Diary:

I find myself regretting all the questions I failed to ask of relatives while they were still alive. I have so many things I’d love to ask my grandparents, my father, my aunts and uncles, but they died long before my interest in family history was born. But my mother is still alive—in failing health, but she’s still here to answer my questions. I’ve been trying to ask her things, to jog her memories. Here are a few of the charming little glimpses of her family and life she’s recounted recently:

My mother, Ione Norene Macbeth, was born April 8, 1928. She attended the Tivoli Rural School, a one-room schoolhouse about a mile and half or so from her home. She said that years later, the school closed and someone bought the building and turned it into a house. They moved the building slightly, turning it around on the lot so the door no longer faced the road. Mom said the building just looked wrong to her forever after.

                   

                       Nyquist School in LeRay Township. Similar and nearby Tivoli.

I asked her how she got to school—did she always walk, even in winter? She said most of the time she and her brother walked, cutting across a neighbor’s pasture to cut off some of the distance. But in snowy weather, they’d sometimes go to school by sleigh—a one-horse sleigh her dad owned. “Jingle Bells” come to life!

She couldn’t remember the name of the horse that pulled the sleigh, but recalled one of the draft horses, her father’s favorite of the four or so horses he kept, was named Prince. Prince contracted Sleeping Sickness, or equine encephalitis. Horses can recover, but some die since there are no effective treatments even today to battle the disease. The vet was treating Prince, and they’d rigged up a harness system attached to the support beams in the barn to hold the horse up—if he went down, he’d probably die of asphyxiation. Unfortunately, Prince died anyway, and when he went limp, his weight pulled down a section of the barn, which had to be repaired. He must have been a huge horse!

My grandfather raised milk cows, and my mom said they named them. She recalled a couple names—Brown Sugar was a brown and white spotted cow who was sweet-tempered, and Lily White was, like her name, a white cow.

To continue the animal-name theme, my mother had a pet chicken named Dingledortz—my grandmother loved to create German-English mash-up words, and this was a prime example.

                                                          Ione holding Dingledortz circa 1932

My mother said my grandmother Nora Hoffman Macbeth and her sisters had a grey colored pet dove (sounds more like a pigeon to me, but who knows) they called Oddy Coo. There’s something very whimsical about the names my grandmother chose.

Note: My mother died shortly after I wrote the first draft of this post. I miss you, Mom.