52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks Week 52 Prompt - Resolutions

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks

Week 52

Prompt – Resolution

Making resolutions is not my thing. I know how hard it is to start them and how it is even harder to keep them. I started this blog 3 weeks after the challenge begun. It was not part of my New Year's resolution. The idea of crafting blogs around genealogy was intriguing. Blogging sounded easier than trying to write a genealogical family book based on my findings. For one thing I am never done finding new information on my ancestors and that makes it easy to put off writing anything. It was not until I started my blogs that I realized how much information I know and have accumulated on the family. My siblings were often surprised by the family knowledge I possessed. As I wrote in my usual folksy way the stories made themselves. The prompts allowed me to narrow topics to manageable stories. (Well some were longer than others). I feel that an ancestor's story is better when surrounded by the history of the place and time and in so doing, I hope I brought it to life so to speak.

Along the way I discovered new things about the ancestors that I had overlooked the first time through their information. I also learned what information I still needed to find.

I know I did not blog on 52 ancestors but as the founder of this challenge (Amy Johnson Crow) states, it is about getting something down in writing to share with our family. It really isn't right that I have this information and not share it. Sharing is difficult when it is locked away on my laptop or in a file cabinet.

I had so much fun participating in the challenge that I was thrilled to hear that she is going to continue to give weekly prompts for 2019. It is my expectation to continue in the same manner as I have for this year. It has never seemed like work to me. It has been so much fun and I looked forward to doing them. I enjoy the feedback that I sometimes get. I love that it jogs memories in my siblings when I write of our family history.In fact my younger sister has decided to write family stories. Isn't that wonderful?  Way to go Bonnie.

Jackie is giving me a wonderful Christmas gift of putting all these blogs into a book. She is editing it now and apparently it will be ready sometime in spring. I think I heard that it will also be available on Amazon. As I told Jill who said she hasn't read my blogs yet – not to worry the book is coming this spring and who knows when the movie will be out. Just kidding!

Happy New Year! 

May all your resolutions be as easy and fun as my past year of digging around the old family tree was for me. 

Wendy

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks Week 51 Prompt - Nice

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks

Week 51

Prompt – Nice

Peters Family Gathering With Cousins, Cousin in Laws, Grandma and our Boarder

If I heard it once, I must of heard it hundreds of times. It would be nice if my mom or dad or grandparent (insert relative) were still alive; I would ask them....

I'm no different than anyone else. I started to fill out the family tree. 

Vivian and Jake Peters 1975 Christmas

I started with what I thought I knew. It started with my mother's name. It wasn't Vivian as she was known but legally Lydia Vivian. But what was her legal last name? After digging a bit I discovered she was really Sullivan because her step father. Ben McLaughlin had not adopted her as he had for mom's brother, Wally. I added my father as Jake on the family tree but on his birth certificate he is registered as Jacob Peters and no middle name. I also discovered that he was known as Jack at Olympic where he worked. He apparently never corrected them. Finding out the legal name is easy if you have their important legal papers such as birth certificates, baptismal papers, marriage licenses and death certificates. However I have always wanted to know more than dates for birth, marriage and death. That would make a very dry family tree.

I think the reason I and so many other genealogists think it would be nice to see them is to flesh out the stories that we are picking up in shreds from our work on their dry statistics. In the examples above, I show that something as easy as adding parents to a family tree can be tricky. Growing up I only knew my father as Jake and my mother as Viv or Vivian. The discrepancies came when I used legal documents to prove that I had the correct names on my tree. In mom's case of her last name it was a bit trickier because some documents list her last name as McLaughlin even though she was never adopted like her brother by grandmother's second husband. And that right there would be a great story to ask her about. However when she was alive I didn't know these discrepancies and therefor had nothing to ask her about. I will surmise also that as a teenager or young adult, the story probably did not interest me as it would today.

These would not be easy questions to ask because some of them would be deeply personal to them. But there are ways to get them to talk about them. If only grandmother McLaughlin / Sullivan were alive I would ask her to tell me her story about her first husband and why she almost completely erased him from her life.

And these were only the first 3 names I added on the tree! I imagine that there are hundreds more untold stories in my tree that will beg the comment – wouldn't it be nice if they were still alive, then I could ask them more about their story.

The moral of this story is that it would be nice to have them around and listen to their stories when we are finally ready to listen. Unfortunately they won't live forever and thus I urge you to be curious and ask the questions this Christmas when your family gather together. Also don't forget to write them down!

Circa 1953 Betty, Rob, Dennis, Diane and Don

 

 

 

Back Row: Dennis, Don, Robert Front Row: Bonnie and Wendy Circa 1960

Circa 1960's Don, Dennis, Wendy, Rob Holding Bonnie

Wendy & Bill First Christmas 1975

Wendy, Mom, Dad and Bonnie Circa 1970

Merry Christmas

Wendy

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks Week 50 Prompt - Naughty

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks

Week 50

Prompt – Naughty

I think it safe to say that we have all been naughty at one time or another in our life. Therefor I presume that even in my straight laced Mennonite or German ancestor's life there would have been naughtiness. Somehow those stories never seem to be handed down. Well maybe if they are criminal, they are passed along in secretive circles of folk lore.

Several times over the year, I have mentioned my maternal grandfather (Pat Sullivan) who is somewhat of a mystery to our family. He was certainly naughty and according to the law it was criminal enough to send him to jail. The family folk lore thinks it was for bigamy but that has not been proven yet. And just lately, in light of my DNA results, I doubt that he was really Irish.

There is a naughtiness that comes from ingenuity and a determination to do something other than that you are commanded to do. There is a story from both Bill and my side of the family. The sons of farmers were always counted on to work the field and Saturday was not an exception. The men would really want to go to the local Saturday night dance but the work was going to take them into the evening hours. I guess they would somehow tamper with the machinery to cause it to break down on a late Saturday afternoon. It would be too late to get parts to fix it. They would have to wait until Monday morning. A convenient plan to allow them to attend the social event without outwardly sneaking off when there was work to do. Bill's family farmed in Killaly, Sask. And my father's family farmed in the Hague, Osler area. Was this a plan that was used by all farmer's sons? Did the father's really know what was going on?

In 2006 we had a chance to visit our aunt & uncle in their winter home in Arizona. Wallace McLaughlin is my grandma McLaughlin's third child, a sibling to my mother. Uncle Wally as we called him was born in 1927 and died just 3 years after the visit. They lived in Ontario and growing up we rarely saw them. My older siblings know him better than myself. Uncle Wally was an Engineer who at one time was the Dean of Engineering at Waterloo University and in fact was president of The Deans of Canada Engineers. At the time of the visit, I was just starting to put family history together. We asked him of any stories he had of mom when they were young.

Vivian and Wallace in 1933

 He unfortunately could not remember many. We did learn that he was a bit mischievous growing up. He said his step father, Benjamin McLaughlin was strict and liked things just so, such as no talking at the dinner table. If you broke the rules you were punished by his “razor strap”. Uncle Wally knew if he got in trouble at school and in his words was “caned” at school he would get it twice as bad at home. So on his way home he would find a few layers of cardboard to put in his back so it lessened the severity.

Apparently his mother (grandma McLaughlin) use to own a 32 caliber Browning Automatic gun. What the heck was she doing with it - I will never understand. Grandma was quite deaf. Uncle Wally would go down into their cellar, find it and for the heck of it shoot it at the wood pile. He went on to explain that on one of grandma's visit to their home in Ontario, she decided it was “too dangerous” to have around her home. So she put it in her handbag and all of its ammunition. She flew with it in her purse as carry on without incidence. Uncle Wally and aunt Phyllis were flabbergasted that she took it on the plane but even worse was that the gun was loaded. OMG.

It was during this visit that I first heard of the term “rubber ice”. They grew up in Saskatoon where the Saskatchewan river runs through it. As boys they would love to go down to the river in spring thaw and play on the ice because it would bend and roll underfoot. They would see who could get further across. Boys will be boys but shooting guns and playing on dangerous river ice is the type of naughtiness that runs parents blood ice cold.

My naughty story comes from being a naive 17 year old girl driving dad's car around in Saskatoon on a boring Sunday afternoon. I can't remember which car it was but either the Caprice or Impala Chevy model, none the less one of those huge over powered beasts of a car that one had in the early 1970's. I remember it clearly as if it happened last week. I was sitting at the top of the Broadway bridge waiting for the red light to turn green when my friend, Bryce pulled up beside me and started to roar his engine. Like one would do to start a race when the light turned green. Well I did not know how to make the engine roar but I did what I thought was the procedure and that was put the car in park and step on the gas roaring the heck out of that behemoth of an engine. The light turned green and Bryce took off and I pulled the car from park to drive in one quick swoop all while revving the be-Jesus out of the engine. The car made an almighty frightening noise and stopped dead. There I was at the top of the bridge feeling very alone and pathetically scared.  I had a sense that I broke dad's car and remember we had no cell phones etc. Some how I phoned dad and told him the car broke down and somehow he showed up to assess the damage. The tow truck took the car to the service station where it cost my dad an arm and a leg to replace the engine or parts of it. To say I felt awful would be an understatement, but I never told dad what really happened. And as far as I am concerned he went to his grave not knowing. Or at least I think so. He never ever mentioned it again if he did. I know that they had no money to fix cars, but the car was necessary for him in order to get to work. It's a sad but a true naughty story.

Being naughty comes in different packages. Some need to push the limits to criminality, some of us come up with  ingenuous plans, some just need to be boys and live despite the dangers and some of us are naive 17 year olds trying to show off and too embarrassed to confess.

Wendy

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks Week 49 Prompt - Winter

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks

Week 49

Prompt – Winter

I am not a fan of the winter season because of the short day light hours and the snow, but mostly I dislike the cold. Lucky for me I am able to turn up the furnace to warm up whenever I want to. Have you ever thought about what it would be like if this was not the case. In one of my previous blogs I talked about the time the furnace quit on a mid January Saskatoon winter night and it was just my sister and I at home alone. By morning it was quite uncomfortably cold in the house. But still we were protected by insulated walls so it could have been much worse.

This made me think of our early Mennonite settlers and their need for shelter facing either the Russian or Canadian Prairie winters. Shelter was necessary for life existence. When the Mennonites left Prussia to go to Russia their travels were slow and even though they set out in July they had not made it to their destination before the Russian winter set in. They wintered over in a village and were billeted out to locals (I'm not sure where it was). In the spring time they set out to their new promised land.  My third great grandparents – Aron and Helena Peters nee Krahn and their children would have been among those first setting out for the new colony in 1789. On arrival the next spring they immediately set to work on homes for shelter. They were promised wood to build their homes but alas none was initially provided and their new land did not have trees. Some of them dug holes into the ground and covered them with thatch to protect them through the next winters. And sadly many did freeze to death. 

 

Over the next 100 years in Russia, the Mennonite colonies built what is known as “village - farms”. They were given long narrow plots of land about 50 meters wide and their house / barns were set back about 30 meters from the street. It became necessary to build the house and barn and shed as one unit because of these narrow lots. The benefits were protection from outside marauders (seeing how it was attached to the home). The closeness accomplished their closed communal living that they wanted. Also it allowed the equanimity of the village meaning no one home had more land and thus its uniformity prevented social stratification among the villagers. The church usually had the central position of the village. As the sons grew up, new daughter colonies would be made thus continuing with the same system of uniformity while building their population. As the Mennonites thrived they were able to replace their original structures with brick and stone making a much sturdier home.

Fast forward 100 years and my great - grandparents, David and Katharina Peters and several children are among the 8,000 plus new Mennonite immigrants arriving in Manitoba in the 1870's. Upon disembarking the men set out to find their village site while the women and children stayed behind in tents (it was summer) until the land can be found forming their much familiar village - farms and hastily constructed temporary homes to live out the coming winter or two. They used what material they had on hand which was soil, sod, grass and timber from the nearby grove of trees. These temporary shelters are more commonly known as “sod huts” or “semlins”.  

They were big enough to hold themselves. Their roofs were made of sod.  At the same time they hastily put together a shelter dug in the ground for their livestock. The sod huts were replaced by log homes and roofs of thatch. In Russia they were use to brick and stone construction and had to be taught by other non Mennonite settlers how to build them. The inside was plastered with clay and hay acting as insulation from the elements. More often than not the floors were earth.  Over the next ten years these sod homes were replaced with their well constructed timber frame house / barns and usually wooden shingles instead of thatch roofs. 

They followed the exact layout of their Russian homes. It had one room for the girls and younger children. The second room became the parents bedroom and often doubled as a living room. Towards the back was a large room for cooking and dining. Off of this was a utility room which doubled as the boy's bedroom. Between the the utility and dining room was a hallway with a door at each end. You guessed it, this led to the barn where the horses, pigs, cattle and chickens as well as feed, grain and hay were stored.

There was a chimney built above the cook-stove primarily so as to direct the sparks outside and prevent fires in their thatched or timbered roofs. Its secondary use was a room for smoking and drying their meat.

During the early years in Manitoba they had lots of wood from the nearby treed area to stoke their stove but by the 1890's it was running out. The Mennonites resorted to their manure bricks used in Russia. They prepared this by spreading moist manure and straw to a foot deep. The horses were then walked over it until flattened and well mixed. It would dry out for a few days and then cut into squares where it was then stacked as to allow further air drying. It is said that once dried it was odorless and provided a slow burn to allow for adequate fuel in their stoves. 

 

My grandfather, Franz Peters was born 1n 1876, a year after their immigration. I imagine he was born into the sod huts of the time. By the time the timber homes were being built he would have been a teenager and probably was part of the building process with his older siblings and father. It is hard for me to realize that he was born into such a primitive home. Maybe he learned to crawl on an earthen floor. He probably huddled around the cook-stove for warmth in the winter. He probably toddled among the livestock in his barn / house home. He probably helped with the making of the manure bricks. I don't know this for sure but since Mennonites liked uniformity and sticklers for routine and not changing it;  it is quite likely that he did these things. 

Wendy 

Week 48 of 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks Prompt - Next to Last

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks

Week 48

Prompt – Next to Last

I am next to last of 7 children. I have always loved its obscurity. I'm not the “baby of the family” and not the first born blazing trails for all my siblings to follow. I am the child that just is and quietly lives without attention. As the younger of the brood, I got to sit back and observe my siblings. I learned from their mistakes with mom and dad. I got to benefit from parents who had been down this garden path before and nothing would phase them or maybe it was they were too exhausted.

As this topic came up I was working on my paternal grandfather – Franz Peters. And as it turns out he is a “next to last child”. Go figure. Here is what I know about him and his siblings. 

Franz Peters was born July 29, 1876 in Plum Coulee in Manitoba. This town is about 1 hour south of Winnipeg and 1/2 hour from the US border. He was the first child of David and Katharina Peters (nee Mueller) born in Canada. His parents and siblings arrived in Quebec City on July 19, 1875 aboard the S. S. Canadian ship and immediately went on to Manitoba over the next week or two via train, boat and wagon.

His siblings in order starting with the oldest are:

Katherina Peters (1849 – 1943);

She was born in South Russia. Probably from the Chortitza Colony which was the German speaking Mennonite Colony. The Mennonites were given it in the 1780's in order to colonize Russia. They came from West Prussia. In particular they lived in the Schoenhorst Colony within Chortitza. Today it is Zaporizhia, Ukraine. Katharine was 16 years old when she immigrated to Canada with her siblings and parents. She married Heinrich Penner and they were part of colony that moved from Hague to Mexico. Katherina died somewhere in Mexico.

David Peters (1860 – 1861);

He died at 9 months of age in September of 1861.

Susanna Peters (1862 – 1862);

She only lived 24 days.

Klaas Peters (1863 – 1863) ;

He died 10 days after he was born.

David Peters (1864 – 1925);

He was born in Chortitza Colony in Russia. He was about 10 years old when he arrived in Canada along with his siblings and parents. David married Susanna Goertzen October 24, 1886. They had 7 children and all but one made it to adulthood. They moved to Saskatchewan like much of the Peters family. He died May 22, 1925 in Blumenthal, Saskatchewan. Susanna lived another 9 years after and as far as I know she never remarried. She died in Saskatchewan.

Maria Peters ( 1866 – 1866);

She died at 5 months of age.

Susanna Peters (1867 – 1921);

She was born in Chortitza in South Russia. Susanna was 8 years old when she came to Canada. She was 17 years old when she married David Woelk in July 26, 1885 in Manitoba. They had 15 children. Only 7 of their children made it to adulthood. Susanna died January 21, 1921 in Manitoba just under 4 years after her husband's death – also in Manitoba.

Helena Peters (1869 – 1927);

Helena was born in Chortitza, South Russia on January 8, 1869. She was 6 years old when she immigrated to Canada with her siblings and parents. At 18 years of age on December 29, 1887 she married Johann Martens. He only lived a few short years after their marriage, dying Dec 16 1889. Helena and Johann had one son together named what else but Johann. He lived until 1952. Less than 4 months after Johann's death, Helena remarried to an Abraham Wiebe. They had 5 children together. Helena died on April 10, 1927. Just two years later Abraham died.

Johann Peters ( 1870 – 1870);

Johann lived two weeks.

Maria Peters (1871 – 1892); Isaac Peters ( 1871 – 1871);

On March 28, 1871 they had twins, again born in Chortitza, South Russia. Isaac died the same he was born. Maria was 4 years old when she came to Canada. Maria married Herman Peters – possible related cousin. They married July 20, 1890 in Manitoba. They had one girl named Maria who was born and died on Feb 5, 1892. Sadly the mother, Maria died 19 days later on February 24, 1892. I have no further details on when Herman Peters died.

Eva Peters ( 1873 – 1902);

She was born March 4, 1873 in Chortitza, South Russia. She was just a toddler of 2 years when she came to Canada. On July 31, 1892 at the age of 19 years old she married Abram Bergen who was 22 years old. Eva and Abram had 7 children. 5 lived to adulthood. 1 died at 1 year of age. Their last child named Franz was born and died on December 9, 1902. This is also the death date of Eva. She died at 29 years of age and of probable childbirth complications.

Judith Peters (1874 – 1905);

Judith was the last child David and Katherina bore in Chortitza, South Russia on November 7, 1874. She was just 8 months old when she immigrated to Canada. At 20 years of age on December 4, 1894 she married Jacob Ginter in Manitoba, Jacob was 24 years old and also born in Russia. Together they had 7 children. I know of 2 dying in infancy but most I do not have a date of death. I believe some of this family also immigrated to Mexico.

Franz Peters (grandfather) ( 1876 – 1952);

Franz (my grandfather) was the first child of David and Katharina Peters born in Canada. Franz married Elisabeth Dueck on Feb 2, 1902 in Blumenthal, NWT ( Saskatchewan was not a province at this time). They had 11 children of which two died at or shortly after birth. The first deceased child was born in 1906 and was named David Peters. He must have died before 1909 as that was when the name was re used on a male baby. The second deceased child was born 1911 and was born Jacob Peters. There was a son named William (Bill) born in 1913 and thus we believe the first Jacob must have still been living as a new name was used on the next male. They had a daughter in 1914 named Shirley. My father, Jacob was born in 1917. Thus it would make sense that by that time the first Jacob died and Jacob was used again. Franz died in a Saskatoon hospital on April 15, 1952. He was buried in Woodlawn Cemetery in Saskatoon. Elisabeth and some of her children moved to Vancouver where they lived out their lives. She died 20 years after her husband on January 16, 1972 and was buried in Vancouver's Mountain View Cemetery as mentioned before. 

Gertruda Peters ( 1879 -1970).

She was born June 7, 1879 in Manitoba. On March 18 1900 at 21 years of age she married Johann Giesbrecht and I believe this was by then in Hague. They had 6 children and as of yet I do not have their complete information. Gertruda died March 11, 1970, 26 years after her husband. I believe she died in Saskatchewan. 

It is tragic. It is familiar. It was “normal”. My great grandparent's had 15 children however very few made it to adulthood. I'm glad that my grandfather, the second to last, survived, married and had children.

Wendy