Genealogical Mythology - How Herbert Stevenson Lost His Job as a Fireman

Herbert Clarke Stevenson (1895-1968)

or as I would likely have known him, Great Grandfather.

Among the family heirlooms are pictures of him in a Fireman's uniform and his badge.

His daughter, Verna Stevenson, my Grandmother was a teller of tales. One of her favorite tales was how her Father lost his job as a Fireman.

According to the story, Herbert was storing sugar and flour for a neighborhood bakery during the Second World War. As many may know (or may not know), rationing was the word of the period. So much was rationed for the war effort. Among them was gasoline, rubber, meat, sugar, flour and others. This was serious business.

That is, unless you were in comedy. When Curly of the Three Stooges sang "She was bred in old Kentucky (but she just a crumb up here)", the closing lines deal with cutting a slice of her "cauliflower ear." Then he sings, "'Cause that ain't rationed." Bugs Bunny was in plane that was getting ready to crash because of the gremlin, when it ran out of gas. The last gag is him making reference to the ration sticker on the window of the plane.

In real life, though, there were stiff penalties for hoarding rationed goods. Herbert was found to be hoarding, which, according to my Grandmother, cost him his job. Story told.

But wait! My Father remembers that he was a fireman at the Navy Yard during the war. Is it possible that there is more to this story than anyone thought? That's really a silly line. I mean, if there weren't more to tell, why would I bother blogging about it?

Here is where your resources go beyond the census. In Philadelphia, there is the Fireman's Hall Museum. Not many visit this wonderful place. As a kid, I remember it fondly. Every bit of fireman history for the city is here. Considering that Ben Franklin created the country's first fire department right here in Philly, where else would it be? The Museum has a file on everyone who ever worked as a fireman in the city. An email put the research wheels in motion.

They don't get a lot of funding. Needless to say, there was a contribution. Try to remember to be generous to your sources, especially those that are underfunded. Most people don't even know that the Museum is there. It was more that a year for the response to show up.

Herbert became a fireman on 9 July 1920. The letter went on to say there he was "dismissed" on 6 March 1928, more than 13 years before the war! It was also noted that there was nothing in their records to show employment as a fireman after 1928.

About six years after the letter, I was using Newspapers.com. I plugged in his name. This is where the story gets juicy.

It seems that Herbert ran into a little trouble in 1926.

Yes, Herbert wasn't hoarding sugar, he was bootlegging. Prohibition has begun in 1920, with even stiffer penalties than hoarding.

The article says that he was to go before a judge the next day. So far, I have found little to say what happened. As far as the Navy Yard story, it may have been true. He had experience and with all the able-bodied men in service overseas, the Navy may have hired him. Maybe he did hoard sugar and flour during the war. There is no newspaper stories to support any of this. There is also no one left from that time. Sadly, the facts came to light after my Grandmother had passed.

Next time: Why my Grandfather came to America
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Halloween at Home - A Photo Essay

Although the outside of the house bears no ghosts, no gravestones, not even the witch who has stood sentry near the front door, the inside is ready for the season. Credit for this goes to my Good Lady Wife, who puts as much heart into Halloween (my favorite time of year) as she does for Christmas (her favorite time of year).

The entertainers dance above the dining room table.

While receipts are decided for dinner.

And prepared with such skill

Place settings and other tableware await their use

After dining, relaxation and pleasant conversation

Or some light reading

         

                               

Or perhaps, a movie  

The signs are all there

Hoping you had a pleasant visit

Happy Halloween.

Genealogical Mythology - Martin Fink & the San Francisco Earthquake

(This one is completely my fault)

There was a group of my ancestors I lovingly referred to as "The Lost Finks of America." These were ancestors who left Germany, came to America and disappeared.

I found information on a family group that came here one at a time. Originally, I could only find one, namely Martin Fink.

Martin was born in the town of Gomaringen, Germany on 15 Dec 1872. He would come to America in 1889, later than his two sisters and his father, who took me years to find. But Martin seemed to pop out. He showed up in San Francisco, California on the 1900 Census, with a wife Johanna and a son Freddie.

After that find, I started to look in other censuses. The 1910 Census gave me a shock. Martin was listed, but no wife or son. He also listed himself as a Widower. Immediately, I jumped to the obvious conclusion.

On 18 April 1906, at 5:12 in the morning, the ground beneath the city shook. Many of the wood framed houses could not take the motion and collapsed. Other buildings also crashed to the street. Fires broke out all over the city. Thousands died.

My belief was that Johanna and Freddie did as well.

So sure was I that this had occurred, I contacted Gladys Cox Hansen. Mrs. Hansen was compiling a list of those who died in the Earthquake, as the official death toll in 1907 is said to be only 478. She believed the number was closer to 3,000. She set about trying to prove this by asking anyone who had relatives who died in the Earthquake to contact her with their stories.

This became my story for several years. Until....

Newspapers.com

This gave me access to The San Francisco Call. Plugging in Martin's name I found some interesting items. First, I found the obituary of Freddie Fink. Turns out that Freddie died on 6 May 1904. I also found a daughter that was stillborn in 1905.

Next, I found a notice that Martin and Johanna got a divorce shortly after the death of their daughter.

In other words, neither Johanna nor Freddie were killed by the Earthquake. I had to contact Gladys Hansen and have their names taken off the list.

The word Widower was what set me off. With the devastation of the Earthquake, it didn't seem a stretch that Martin was left alone. Contributing to this was that he was a baker. Bakers are known to start work in the wee hours of the morning, so he would not have been home. The bakery, which would contain ovens, would likely be a well-built brick building that should survive an earthquake. It made sense that he was protected and that his family was at risk.

Lesson learned.

Martin, who would outlive his second wife, died in a home in 1947. Johanna, who remarried, died in 1952.

Next time: How Herbert Stevenson Lost His Job as a Fireman.

Genealogical Mythology - Peter Labenz

I'm in my 30th year as the Family Historian.

One thing that really hit home was the concept that people make up stories about their family history.

For instance, many people who had a relative in the Civil War will tell you that their ancestor was at the Battle of Gettysburg. If it were true, the battlefield would have to be the size of Texas. With all the muster rolls available online, this story is easy to verify.

But what happens at a smaller level? How about the story your Mother tells you that is passed down to her and another relative restates? Or the one your Grandmother tells you, from her personal experience? Or the one on records that you find in a search? What gives?

Let's take the case of my Great Grandfather - Peter Labenz

Peter Labenz was born on 20 September 1875 in West Prussia. He came to America with his parents and a number of brothers and sisters on 28 March 1892. He married Eva Kant in 1897 and lived his life in Philadelphia, working as a Morocco Finisher, which means he was a leather worker.

Wedding Photo of Peter Labenz & Eva Kant, 1897

Somewhere around 1901, he, like his brother August, lost an arm in the machinery. Many did at that time. OSHA and unions were not part of the American landscape at that time. Here's where the story begins.

The tale is told that while recuperating in the hospital, he was visited by his wife Eva, who told him that "she didn't want to be married to a cripple" and she "didn't want to see him again." The story goes on to say that he did not go home and became a hobo. He died under the wheels of a freight train that he tried to hop a ride on. Kind of a given that a one-armed man would have difficulty grabbing a ride on a moving train.

This story survived into the 1990s.

It took me a while to find that he died in 1917. For a man who never came home, he sired seven children between 1901 and his death. That fact never seemed to occur to anyone. When I finally obtained a death certificate, I found that he died of kidney failure, a disease quite common among leather workers of the time.

In trying to determine why such a story was around, I found out about my Great Grandmother, Eva. It seemed that the story was more about her than him. Apparently, she was a very tough woman, sometimes abrasive, with a proud Prussian heritage. Her sons would tease here asking if she was Polish. She would get irate and defend her birth in Prussia. I also heard that when questioned about her Father, who remains somewhat of a mystery, she would tell her children that they didn't need to know about him.

She passed in 1959, 42 years after her husband.

In that time, she raised seven children. You had to be tough.

I probably should mention that it was likely to be Eva who was home when the census taker came around in 1910. She mentioned among her children her son Edward. He's on the census. He died in 1907.

Next Time:  Martin Fink and the San Francisco Earthquake.