“Do you mean to tell me that land doesn’t mean anything to you? Why, land is the only thing in the world worth working for worth fighting for, worth dying for. Because it’s the only thing that lasts!”–Gerald O’Hara, Gone With the Wind
“Oh pa, you talk like an Irishman.”–Scarlett O’Hara

I do not understand the land situation in Ireland at all. There, I’ve said it. I try not to be judgemental about the system, but it confuses me, which makes researching there more difficult. Who owns which property? How do you know who is living where? Farming where? Is the name I see in two different places in Griffith’s Valuation the same man, or different men?

If the Irish census records from the 1800s hadn’t burned in 1922, perhaps I wouldn’t have this problem. If I could see specific family groups, and then tie them to a particular parcel of land, it might start making sense to me. That’s not the reality, so instead, I do what I can to muddle through. I read articles, watch webinars, and wander around Irish websites in an attempt to figure out what’s what. It’s been slow going!

I can safely say I know more now than I used to, though that’s not saying much! Some pieces are starting to fall into place. My Irish research is all on Mike’s family, with the Nolan/[H]Alpine lines on the east side of the island, and the Carmodys on the west side. The Nolans emigrated from Clonegall, which decided to locate itself at the junction of Counties Carlow, Wexford, and Wicklow. That adds a level of confusion I’ve yet to tackle, so I’ll leave them for another time. We’ll head across the island to Ennis, in County Clare, for Mike’s Carmodys.

I’ve written about his Carmodys on both sides of the Atlantic. Most recently I wrote about the hotel disaster of the “maybe they’re related to us” Carmody line in Ennis. And I wrote about the three Andrews who were first cousins. I also wrote about their grandfather, Andrew, in Brick Wall. That post briefly discussed (complete with map) the land he lived on in The Borheen. At least, I think it was him. He was not, however, the only Carmody in that townland. Was there any way the land records could help me sort them out? Connect some to each other? I don’t know. Maybe. To recap, this was the listing I found in Griffith’s:

Griffith’s Valuation, page 169² (with the middle of the page clipped out). The red boxes point out the headings at the top, and Andrew Carmody’s entries: two as an Occupier (14 shillings owed for both), and one as the Lessor (landlord —8 shillings). So, Malony paid Carmody the 8 shillings, which he turned over to Gore? The green boxes point out other Carmody entries in the area: Margaret, Thomas, and Ellen. Parish of Drumcliff, The Borheen (heading missing in the snipped section). This is from 1855.

Brick Wall didn’t really dig into the details about the land. Many questions still lurked about, and I now realize there were things I misunderstood. I’ll try to tackle those, now.

First off: Francis Gore, the landlord. What’s his backstory? The Gore family first acquired the lease in Drumcliff in 1712, from Henry, 8th Earl of Thomond.¹ It was leased in perpetuity, for an annual rent of £60. One inflation calculator equates that to a current value of £6500. Of course that doesn’t take into account any increase in land value. A better consideration might be that most of Gore’s tennants paid less than £1 rent per year. The land managed by the Gore family extended beyond the Drumcliff parish in Ennis, with seven houses situated throughout their land holdings.

In late 1852, the lease for over 1,000 acres they managed near Ennis was listed for sale, yet a later descendant (another Francis) still maintained over 3000 acres in County Clare into the 1870s—in addition to land leased elsewhere. This family had control over (not ownership of, though!) a lot of land.

That brings up the next point. I’d been confused about why Andrew Carmody was a tennant, if he owned land that he leased to someone else. I didn’t grasp the idea the NO ONE owned the land except the 8th Earl of Thomond! Francis Gore was paying rent, subletting the land to lots of other people, with some of those people (like Andrew) subletting it yet again. Did subletting some of the land one was leasing indicate being “better off” than others? I don’t know. It’s certainly no surprise that North America, and the possiblity of land ownership, looked like a dream come true, to many Irishmen!

The Tithe Applotment Survey recorded another tax assessment based on land. In the Drumcliff parish, Lifford townland, I can find:

  • 1833: Jno Carmody, 1 3/4 acres (one of 6 names for that land!)³
  • 1833: Patt Carmody, 2½ acres³

Unfortunately, we get only a name; no family members and no maps accompany it. A name with a date and a vague general area isn’t terribly useful, so that didn’t really help.

A complication that cropped up when I looked back at Griffith’s Valuation was the map situation. located as many maps as they could for each area. For Ennis, they have four. Great! Well, not really, because none of the maps are dated. All the site says is that tinted maps (like below) are most recent. One map had very few parcels, and a very different numbering system, so I believe that one was the oldest.

Section of a Griffith’s Valuation map² showing what I believe to be The Borheen area. It is north of the River Fergus. The almost vertical lane to their right is The Borheen (“country lane or rural road”), now called Marian Avenue. I annotated this one with the names of the occupiers on their lot, to see relative locations. So, how far apart are they? From Ellen’s to Margaret’s is about 1 km (6 tenths of a mile).

The other two (below) showed numbers crossed out and new ones written in, matching the later numbers (above). That created a problem for me: which lot 24 did Thomas Carmody occupy? The one lower in the map (below Andrew’s garden), or the one that merged and became part of lot 10? Maybe the lots I labeled above are the wrong ones?

I took the 1855 valuation list, trying to match up the lot acreage to the relative sizes shown on the maps. Lots 23-27 have roughly the same area—10-11 perches. Is that consistent with the tinted map? Pretty much. On the black & white maps, old lot 24 is much smaller than old 23 (new 9) or old 25, which merged with 24 to become new 10. Andrew’s lot 29 on the tinted map (37 perches) seems proportionately larger than 23 and 24, but the old 29 (below the new 10) doesn’t seem to be the right size.

The one “problem” is lot 33, with only 7 perches. On the tinted map, 33 is fairly large—much larger than 7 perches! Old 33 was smaller, most of it “liable to floods.” It’s possible there were only 7 perches of “usable” land on that lot, but how do I resolve the area discrepancy? Which map should I use?Looking at the second page of the 1855 valuation list, I noticed there were 66 lots in The Borheen. The tinted map went only up to lot 59, so it must be after 1855. Both black & white maps have 76 lots. The valuation list needs a different map!

Obviously the lot changes did not occur all at one time. Unfortunately, there’s no time-lapse recording of how they occurred. Presumably they renumbered starting with low lot numbers, and I might be able to recreate the sequence, but I don’t really have time or energy for that. The Carmody lot numbers I need are low enough that I feel comfortable that I have identified them correctly on the tinted map.

For the sake of my OCD thoroughness, I checked FamilySearch’s database. It provides images of the handwritten ledger pages, though it claims to be an 1845 book. I could not locate a date anywhere on the images, and there are slight name differences, though the Carmodys all seemed to be in the same locations. Ancestry had the printed valuation list, and the earliest map, without the plot numbers.

As a hint, though, Ancestry pointed me to the “Ireland, Encumbered Estates, 1850-1885”4 database. What was that? Apparently, as a result of the potato blight and subsequent famine, tenants couldn’t pay their rents. Landlords couldn’t pay their rents, either, because not enough was coming in. The Encumbered Estates Court was created so lending banks could force the sale of land whose rents were in arrears.

It would be like selling an apartment building. That listing would detail how many units, what the monthly rent was for those units, what the current occupancy was, and so on, so a prospective buyer knew what to expect as potential income. Similarly, the Encumbered Estates records listed each tennant, what the property consisted of, acreage, annual rent, when the “Gale Days” (dates the rent was due) were, and the tenure of each tennant—when the lease was renewable. Some people had longer leases. Most were year-long leases, renewable on 25 March, and some were weekly, renewing on Saturday!

Similar to a personal possession auction, the properties were offered in “lots” of various sizes—both area and number of individual properties. A map accompanied each group of property listings, and there was always a definite sale date to identify time period. These were different maps from the Griffith’s ones, and varying dates! I decided a spreadsheet would be useful to sort out the assorted Carmodys with all the different years. I had 79 entries to process through. There wasn’t enough time to handle all of them, but I was able to complete about a third, which included Andrew, Thomas, and Margaret, who had shown up in the Griffith’s Valuation list.

All three were listed on the 29 June 1868 action that was held at the Ennis court house. As you can see from the map (below), these were different parcels than the ones on the Griffith’s map. They were “town properties” located in the the area now referred to as “The Borheen.”

Thomas’s property was up near the top point, with Andrew’s below that, near the 2nd “Lot 12” label. Margaret was across the street, and a bit more than half way down, on property 5 in Lot 10. Placing this map relative to the Griffith’s map, property 6 in Lot 15 (far left) is the parcel Andrew rented to Patrick Mahony (labeled 28 in the Griffith’s map).

On the Griffith’s map, this area wasn’t accounted for, though it was visible as the slightly angled road heading away from the “bump up” on the River Fergus, and continuing into the N/S road effectively bisecting the top half of the map. It may have been considered a different section in Griffith’s, so I may need to see if those properties were identified with other people, earlier.

I would LOVE to tie this last map to either Patrick or Michael, sons of Andrew. Both are listed in the 1901 census, but none of the forms list an actual address or lot number. The households were simply numbered in the order visited. The only street name is “The Borheen,” but the map above simply refers to the road as “County Road.” That’s not much help. There’s no map showing the census locations.

Still, I feel confident this was still Mike’s Andrew. It gives documentation that he probably died after 1868, six years after John Joseph’s (Mike’s grandfather) birth. If I have to make a page-by-page search for him in a death register, it gives me a starting date, at least. That’s better than I had!

We were supposed to be in Ennis a week ago, wandering the lanes, looking for these places, taking photos of the properties belonging (hopefully) to Mike’s great-grandfather, Andrew. Sigh. With those plans torpedoed, we’ll have to wait for another opportunity to travel there and explore his family’s ancestral town.

So, do I understand everythinng about land in Ireland? Not even close! I still have questions, but they are different than before. I guess I have more time to research answers before we go. S0, maybe half a win? Or only half a loss?


¹”Estate Record: Gore (Clonroad & Tyredagh Castle)”. 2020. Landedestates.Nuigalway.Ie., accessed 20 April 2020.

²”Griffith’s Valuation, 1847-1864″, database,, Ask About Ireland (, General Valuation, p. 169, for Andrew CARMODY, occupier, The Borheen, Ennis (town), Lifford (townland), Drumcliff (parish), Ennis (union), Islands (barony), County Clare, accessed 7 April 2019.

³”Tithe Applotment Books, 1814-1855″, database, The National Archives of Ireland (, Jno. CARMODY, 1833; citing Drumcliff, Lifford, Clare, p. 23, accessed 23 April 2020; also Patt CARMODY, 1833, no page given.

4“Ireland, Encumbered Estates, 1850-1885”, database, (, accessed 26 April 2020, entry for Andrew CARMODY, 1868, lot # 12, # on map 6, Lifford, Drumcliff, Islands, Clare; citing Landed Estate Records, The National Archives of Ireland, Dublin, Ireland.


Air is nothing . . . and everything.

Some prompts are easier than others. This one was less easy. My two Air Force Academy graduates are too young to write about. Other family members who worked for airlines are also still living, so not fair game. No hot air balloonists, astronauts, or space aliens. I finally remembered Mike’s dad had photos from his time in the Army, one of which was an airplane! It was a stretch, but I was running out of options.

The lone airplane photo of the pinup girls. Jerry was NOT a pilot, so this was not his plane. Photo taken between 5 November 1945 and 12 May 1947.

So I found the photos to scan and touch up. None of them had dates or locations, and only one identified people. Jerry was not a army pilot. He had simply taken photos of the ‘pinup girls’ painted around his base. They caught my eye from the first time I saw them, and while they may not be politically correct, they capture the time period so beautifully. These photos are among the few items we have of Jerry’s so I’m loathe to discard them, even though most aren’t photos of him.

I’ve written about Mike’s dad a couple times. Mike and I were barely acquainted (certainly not yet dating!) when Jerry died 18 May 1977. I never met him.

Gerald Alfred [Carmody’s] Bauman’s life was complicated and sometimes difficult. He lost both birth parents and both adoptive parents, leaving him orphaned—twice—by the time he turned twelve. Mike and his brother know little about Jerry’s time in the Army, or his life as an orphaned teenager. The few report cards we have suggest Jerry wasn’t particularly studious. High school seemed to have been a difficult time for him.

In the fall of 1945 (what would have been his senior year), Jerry left school to join the Army. He had just turned seventeen, and seemed to be taking advantage of the option to earn his high school diploma with military service. Sure enough, after being discharged 12 May 1947, he received his high school diploma dated 12 June. The records from the St. Clair High School confirmed he left school 29 October 1945, and “graduated June 1947, Service Credits.”

But you know how I am, dotting i’s and crossing t’s. What could I actually find about about Jerry’s time in the service? I located his Army Enlistment¹ information (index, not the document) at Ancestry. It confirmed his service number and enlistment date. The Enlistment Term said, “Enlistment for the Panama Canal Department.” That confused me, because it didn’t make sense with the inflated 1920s Deutchmark currency Jerry had given Mike.

So it was back to the photos. There were several others, in addition to the pinup girls. One was a sign, presumably of the camp they were stationed at:

Definitely not the Panama Canal! I’m not positive that is Jerry in the photo. The hair seems a little too light. But this does confirm he spent time in Germany, near some place that ends in “-ach”, maybe “-bach.” There’s not too many of those, right?

That actually made a little sense, because Mike had inherited a short wave radio from his dad. It could have been an interest Jerry picked up from his time in the service. Or it could have been an interest he had prior to the service, that caused him to be moved to a different job area. We don’t exactly know, and unfortunately, have no one to ask.

So, where, exactly, is this? “Look at his DD 214 [discharge papers],” you suggest. Good thought, except we don’t have that. We have his brother’s, for some reason, but not his. I don’t know if it was lost or discarded before Jerry died in 1977, or if his 2nd wife kept it, instead of giving it (or a copy of it) to his sons. We should look at requesting that paperwork, but there was no time to obtain it before this post deadline.

No other miliary records for Jerry turned up at Ancestry or Fold3. What could I track down with Google? The sign is very specific. One would think an Army base could be found pretty easily. It was harder than I anticipated! Eventually, pigheadedness persistence paid off. I located several military histories about the Signal Corps, but quick skimming through them didn’t seem to point me in the right direction.

I finally stumbled upon the U.S. Army in Germany² website, which contained a lot of information covering the immediate post-war years. It was there I was able to nail down a location for at least part of Jerry’s service time: Ansbach, Germany. The section on the website covering the Signal Corps School identified Ansbach as the central location for that type of training.

Another item we have is the Christmas Dinner Menu for the “Headquarters, 66th Constabulary Squadron, APO 205, U. S. Army” for Christmas Day, 1946:

Nailing down information on the 66th Constabulary Squadron wasn’t easy, but the website came through, again. That site placed it in Degendorf, Germany, about 85 miles from Ansbach, assuming there are not other Degendorfs or Ansbachs that are actually the correct ones! It’s possible, I suppose, that Jerry was stationed at both places at different times. I just don’t know.

Another site,, has a page for the 66th Constabulary Squadron, locating it in Munich, instead. Unfortunately, there is no Unit History or Timeline constructed, no photos included, and no members who served in that unit. It’s just a placeholder for the squadron, in case someone wants to add information.

One remaining photo of Jerry’s was him and friends relaxing around a pool:

Definitely not Christmas time! The guys are identified as Corbett (far left), Elder (2nd from left), and Olsen, far right. The 2nd from the right, with a “?” above him? Mike says that’s his dad. Apparently he was being funny?

I briefly thought I might find records for these guys that might help. When a Fold3 search for “Corbett” in WWII turned up over 23,000 results, I realized how futile that would be without first names.

Jerry’s DD 214 is looking less “optional” all the time!


¹”World War II Army Enlistment Records, 1938-1946″, database, (, Electronic Army Serial Number Merged File, 1938-1946 [Archival Database]; ARC:1263923. World War II Army Enlistment Records; Records of the National Archives and Records Administration, Record Group 64; National Archives at College Park. College Park, Maryland, U.S.A. Entry for Gerald A. BAUMAN.

²Walter Elkins, webmaster, (, accessed 19 April 2020; “Communications in USFET & EUCOM 1940s”; search for ‘school” to locate “Theater Signal Corps School”.


“Water is the driving force of all nature.”–Leonardo da Vinci

Mike’s family members are thoroughly Michigander. Apparently there is a musical artist by that name. Not talking about him. With a few rare exceptions of family who moved out-of-state in the 1940s or later, the family has lived along the east “coast” of Michigan since the mid to late 1800s. My late mother-in-law was fond of bragging that Michigan would never run out of water, since it bordered four of the five Great Lakes!

None of Mike’s family was involved in the substantial water commerce taking place in Michigan. I’m not aware of any boat captains or merchant marine sailors. Nevertheless, it seems his family was repeatedly drawn to water, as evidenced by the few photos we have. Today’s blog has vignettes spotlighting some of the people, stories, and photos.

In Winter, I already wrote about Patrick Nolan’s (Mike’s maternal great-grandfather) drowning in the Black River, which flows through Port Huron. Water certainly impacted his life. Death. You know what I mean.

Not too far away, on the other side of the family, John Joseph Carmody spent time as the manager of the Lighthouse Park Tourist Camp, near the Fort Gratiot Lighthouse. He was the manager from at least 1928 (when his wife died), retiring in 1933.

1902 postcard of the Fort Gratiot lighthouse. The tourist camp would have been there after this photo was taken, on the far side of the lighthouse. In the public domain, original: Detroit Photographic Company. The original uploader to was Cbl62 at English Wikipedia.

It continued to be a tourist camp until at least 1949, and sported a beach, still popular today. The beach is the likely location of the photos of Mike’s parents, below, taken when they were dating. Even though both lived in Detroit, they regularly headed north to Port Huron. Both had family connections there, and it was an opportunity to get out of the city. Often they “double dated” with Pat’s sister, Sue, and Sue’s boyfriend (later, husband) Gene.

Probably mid-1950s. Mike’s parents, Patricia Kukler and Jerry Bauman. Location not certain, but likely to be the beach at Lighthouse Park or Lakeside Park (a short way further north), Port Huron, Michigan. Both beaches are at the southernmost end of Lake Huron, just before the beginning of the St. Clair River. I don’t believe there are beach areas like this downriver, in Detroit.

Earlier generations found themselves recreating near the water, too. The photos below all came from an album belonging to Mike’s grandmother, Elizabeth Nolan Kukler. We never saw it until after his mom’s death, and her mother had died 13 years earlier. The album was falling apart. It was too fragile to invert and scan, and I didn’t know (or think) to record how the photos were placed on the pages. My bad. I did have enough sense to write on the backs of photos whatever had been written below them on the pages, but many had nothing to identify them. While I was grateful for the names, dates and places would have really come in handy!

The photos below identified the people, but I didn’t know where it was. Initially I thought it might be Boblo—an amusement park I had heard of, on another island farther down the Detroit River. Mike said it didn’t look like that, and suggested Belle Isle, which I’d forgotten about. Searching online, I found postcards consistent with what I saw in these photos, including the bridge in the background of the first photo.

Frank C. Kukler was born and grew up in Detroit. A true city boy. He met his wife-to-be, Elizabeth Nolan, when she had moved from Port Huron for better job opportunities. Between 1907 and 1919, she worked as a telephone operator or in one or more private homes as a governess or domestic. Who was Tressa? My best guess is she was Theresa Krattenthaler, a 24-year old nursemaid in the Lawrence M. Goodman household upstairs at 67 Euclid Avenue West² in 1920. In the 1915 Detroit City Directory, however, I found both Theresa and Elizabeth, working as “domestics” at the same location in Grosse Point Park³—right across from Belle Isle. It’s not too surprising Tressa stored a canoe, and spent free time at Belle Isle!

Another popular water hole for Mike’s family was Houghton Lake, smack dab in the middle of the “mitten,” about 2/3 of the way up. Mike’s Uncle Gene (Sue’s main squeeze, remember?) inherited his parents’ summer cottage on the lake. I don’t know exactly how much time they spent up there, but Uncle Gene had a pontoon boat (much tamer than the speed boats he used to race as a young man!) on the lake, so I presume they made good use of it. Even Elizabeth (his mother-in-law) went out for a spin on the lake in 1984, when she was 93!

1984. Elizabeth Nolan Kukler, age 93, out for a ride on Houghton Lake.

When Mike’s family decided to hold a reunion, we commandeered most (if not all) of the rooms of a nearby strip motel, not far from Gene & Sue’s cottage. There were two buildings of motel rooms running perpendicular between the road and the lake, with a beach, grassy area, and dock between them. It was the perfect place for Elizabeth’s kids (below), grandkids, and great-grandkids to hang out together for a week.

19 August 1989. Five of the six Kukler siblings alive at the time: Pat, Sue, Marge, Bob, Mary. Three are still with us.

We swam, played in the sand, got boat rides, played putt-putt nearby. Everyone enjoyed the week enough, that we repeated it in 1993. Unfortunately, coordinating the schedules of 20+ families is complicated, so it’s been limited to those two times. Better two than none . . .

Water has been called the universal solvent. It breaks apart more things than anything else.

But sometimes it just pulls everything together.


¹Wikipedia ( “Belle Isle Park (Michigan),” rev. 31 March 2020, at 09:08 (UTC). 

²1920 U.S. census, population schedule, Michigan, Wayne, Detroit, Ward 2, e.d. 85; Page 2A; dwelling number 19; family number 23; line 12; Lawrence M. GOODMAN household; accessed 5 April 2020. Theresa KRATTENTHALAR, age 24; NARA microfilm publication T625, roll 802; digital image, (

³”U.S. City Directories, 1822-1995″, database, (, citing R. L. Polk’s Detroit City Directory, 1915. Entry for Elilzabeth NOLAN, p. 1814, and Theresa KRATLENTHER [misspelled], p. 1450, accessed 5 April 2020.


Have you ever wished the floor would just open up and swallow you? Think twice about that . . .

Live auctions are fun! For most of us, the worst outcome is coming home with something we really didn’t need, and possibly paid too much for. We get caught up in the moment and carried away by the bidding. Some people end up hauling an antique oak commode, a weather vane, quilt, and assorted items from Maine to Illinois in a Galaxie 500, already containing 2 adults, 2 teens, and a Labrador retriever. The wrought iron chandelier got installed in the cabin we were borrowing. Occasionally, an auction has more serious consequences.

On Wednesday, 15 January 1958, a large crowd of people gathered at the Carmody Hotel, 38 Abbey Street in Ennis, Ireland. The County Clare hotel had discontinued operation the previous August, so furniture and other hotel items would be auctioned over a 3-day period. The auction took place in a large upstairs dining room, 50′ by 30’—the Sarsfield room. The corner fireplace had a fire blazing to provide heat. The room below, the Commercial Room, was empty and locked.

People came from a wide area. In its heyday, the Carmody Hotel had been a gathering place for influential political figures, including Daniel O’Connell (1775-1847), who used it as his local election headquarters. Supposedly the bed from the room he typically slept in expected to be a hot item. Some bidders were looking for antique furniture; many local residents simply wanted a memento of the 3-story hotel that had been a fixture since 1804.

The auction started at 11:15, and was going well. The auctioneer called for a lunch break at 1pm, resuming at 2:30. The room was crowded with bidders. Some reports claimed there were 50 people5; others, 80; and one even 200¹! No one knew the exact count, but the room was full. As a new lot of linen items came across the auction block, the floor in the center of the room began to sag, finally giving way.

Those standing in the center found themselves falling 14 feet, into the room below. Others found themselves sliding down the sloping floor. A couple furniture pieces were grabbed by people nearby, who prevented those items from falling into the hole. They managed to keep them in place until someone brought rope to secure them permanently.

Meanwhile, the room below filled with people, dust, and debris from above. That room being empty and locked was both a blessing (no one was in there for the floor and people to fall on) and a curse (the doors were locked, so no one could get out). The trapped dust allowed no visibility for those victims.

Townsfolk walking by the building realized there was a problem, and quickly broke out the windows and began to evacuate the trapped people. Across the street at the Queens Hotel, the Corbett family held a wedding reception from the double wedding of brothers William Joseph and James. The guests heard the noise and came out to help. Elizabeth Kelly, one of the brides, was also a nurse. She set to work, in her wedding dress, helping the injured, as other emergency personnel arrived.

Eight people died from the floor collapse, with another 25 injured. Fourteen of those sustained injuries serious enough to require treatment at the hospital, though they were released soon afterwards. Many of the dead died of asphyxiation, inhaling the airborn dust when they attempted to scream.³

Compared to other tragic events, this may not rank high for the number of casualties or monetary losses. This disaster was not only written up in local and Irish papers, it made it to the wire services and was reported in the New York Times, and even the Lodi (California) News-Sentinal. Granted, details got muddled and the numbers exaggerated a bit by the time it got to California, but Lodi felt it was worth publishing.

This disaster also had a huge impact on Ennis. In 1958, its population was 6000 or so. Everyone in town knew someone who died, someone who was there and didn’t die, or someone who was there, helping to rescue people. As evidenced by the articles cited and linked below, the town vividly remembers this disaster and continues to retell the story on the anniversaries in the paper, through video (below) and in books. I have articles for only the 45th, 50th, and 60th anniversaries linked below, but I suspect there are memorial articles from other years that never made it to the internet. Every article I came across always listed the eight victims by name. In 1998, a plaque with their names was installed on the second building owned by the Carmody hotel. It was across the street, and was undamaged by the collapse.

Video prepared for the 60th anniversary remembrance of the collapse. It contains audio interviews with survivors and witnesses of the event. It runs 1 hour 35 minutes.

Coincidentally, one of the victims was Josephine Carmody, a 39-year-old mother of five, married to . . . a Michael Carmody. None of the articles mentioned if her husband was descended from the Carmody line that had once owned the hotel.

So, what does this disaster have to do with my (Mike’s) Carmodys? I am not really sure. Mike’s grand uncle, Michael J. (b. 1856) had worked for the competition (Queen’s Hotel) across the street, but I can’t tie him to the Carmody Hotel. One benefit of a disaster is that newspaper articles tended to provide background information related to the incident. From those I learned:

  1. John Carmody was the original business owner (not building owner) from 1804 through 1824, at least
  2. Patrick Carmody, owned it at his death in June, 1833. His wife died a week after he did, leaving 10 children behind (6 of them “very young”).
  3. Michael Carmody was the owner in 1846 through at least 1875.
  4. Miss Agnes Carmody owned it in 1883.
  5. Delia & Amy Dillon owned it in 1893. Was it sold outside the family, or was this just a daughter name change?
  6. It passed to Monica McKenna by 1901, and was under her management until at least 1931.
  7. Angela F. Bailey was running it (owning it?) by 1943.
  8. Michael Carmody, who had been Town Clerk of Ennis from 1906 -1946+, died after having relocated to Dublin. He came back to Ennis for burial. He was “the only son of John Carmody and was grandson of Michael Carmody, founder of Carmody’s Hotel.”
  9. The Right Honorable Baron Richards was the landlord in 1856. George H. Richards (his son?) was the landlord in 1874.

So the original Carmodys owned and ran the business (which apparently started out as and Alehouse, before qualifying as a full-fledged hotel by 1827) until the 1890s. It seems like Michael in #3 had a son, John, who had the Michael in #8. I found another death notice for “veterinary surgeon, 44 yrs., eldest son of late Michael Carmody, proprietor of Carmody’s Hotel, 12 February 1894.” Could that be the same John Carmody mentioend in #8? Dying at age 44 would put his birth year at 1850, so it could fit.

While I’ve acquired a lot of information tidbits, and can create a tentative timeline, I have gaps unaccounted for. Some relationships can be pieced together, but others are still a mystery. How did Patrick (#2) connect to John (#1)? Were they father and son? Older and younger brother? Cousins? How did Michael (#3) connect to either of them?

Mike’s great grandfather, Andrew, started having children in 1845. Could he and Michael (#3) be brothers? Cousins? I still don’t know. I do know that my dedicated “Carmodys in County Clare” file in Family Tree Maker has :

  • 29 John Carmodys
  • 18 Michael Carmodys
  • 42 Patrick Carmodys
  • 11 Thomas Carmodys
  • 11 James Carmodys

I know some of them are duplicates: one may show up as son to his parents and separately as husband to his wife, but I can’t prove he is one individual. But I’m working my way through the 1901 and 1911 census records, the parish record books, and trying to make sense of Griffiths Valuation, hoping to find enough detail to clear up some of those duplicates, and maybe find the connection between the Carmody family on the west side of the Fergus River (Mike’s) and the east side of the river (hotel family).

My Carmody tree is its own mini-disaster . . .


¹”Eight Killed In Collapse Of Old Irish Hostelry,” Lodi News-Sentinel, 16 January 1958; ( : accessed 28 February 2020 from Google News Archive).

²Jessica Quinn, “Witness To An Ennis Tragedy,”  The Clare Champion, January 2018; ( : accessed 28 February 2020).

³”Carmody’s, Going, Going, Down …,” Irish Identity, January 2003; ( : accessed 28 February 2020) citing The Clare Champion, January 2003.

⁴”50th Anniversary Of Carmody’s Hotel Tragedy,” The Clare Herald, 15 January 2008: ( : accessed 28 February 2020).

5Gerry Quinn, “The Day That Shook Ennis: Eight People Died In Hotel Disaster 60 Years Ago,” The Clare Echo News, 1 December 2018: ( : accessed 28 February 2020).

Same Name

I don’t have to look very far in my tree to find people with the same name. Undoubtedly there’s at least one instance—frequently more—on each major family line. Depending on the situation, they may cause more or fewer difficulties for me.

I quickly zeroed in on the same name I wanted to write about this week, but this blog has proven more difficult than anticipated. I’ve restarted it at least twice. Then yesterday I discovered a mistake requiring me to publish a correction blog . It’s been quite a week!

So if you read yesterday’s blog, you’ve been reminded about the Andrew Carmodys in Mike’s tree. When I started putting that tree together almost 40 years ago, we knew very little. Mike had some papers his father (Jerry) had left, leaving us a few Carmody breadcrumbs, locating them in Port Huron, Michigan. Other than that, we knew nothing. Mike’s mom had never met any of Jerry’s family, and we had no contact with anyone living.

One item we had was a note Anna Carmody Bauman (Jerry’s adoptive mom, and cousin) had received from Ennis, Ireland, with the obituary for her father, Michael, inside. The note read:

My Dear Nano,

Just a line to let you know I got your letter alright & I am sorry for not writing sooner but I was waiting to get the certificate for you. well Nano it was terrible about your poor Father we got a great shock when he died so quickly we haven’t got over it yet. well Nano your Father left (600) pounds but it is all in the Bank of Ireland & cannot be touched untill all of you come to some arrangements & you will have to write to Mr. Cullinan 6 Bindon Street for any information you want. Andy Carmody (Paddy’s son) wrote to Jack Carmody explaining every thing & telling him what to do & Nano he never heard from him since & he never wrote to us so we can’t do nothing more about it.

[remainder snipped]

letter from “your old Joe” (no last name) at the Ennis Club, Ennis, County Clare, Ireland; dated 5 May 1925. Typed as written. On the note, his periods look like commas, and he doesn’t capitalize the next word—though he does capitalize “Father” each time! So we have an Andrew still in Ireland in 1925, the son of a Patrick!

It wasn’t much to start with. In 1980, the most recent census records available were from 1900, so we spent a Saturday at the Indiana State Library, cranking through microfilm reels, looking for John Joseph Carmody, the name we had for Mike’s grandfather. We found him, his wife, Elizabeth, and their 7 children—including an Andrew, born September 1887!

A subsequent road trip to Port Huron with Mike’s mom found us in the Mount Hope Cemetery, where John Joseph was buried. Nearby were the headstones of Andrew J. Carmody, b. 1887, and another Andrew J., born 1918, presumably his son. Alas, genealogy is seldom as simple as it seems!

As more records became available (specifically, census records) I could fill in branches more completely. The other Andrew popped up, muddying the Port Huron waters. Sorting the two out correctly wasn’t always easy (as is already evident!). A simplified tree below may help:

Simplified descendant chart for Andrew Carmody and Mary Culleeny. I left the girls off, because if they had Andrews, they wouldn’t be Carmodys. Andrew and Mary had 3 sons (none named Andrew!), each one naming a son Andrew. Michael’s son also named a son Andrew.

Sorting these boys out will be easier if done one-by-one, rather than trying to go year-by-year. We’ll start with John Joseph’s Andrew. Originally, I thought the Andrew at Mount Hope was John J.’s son. That is, until I found the family on the 1910 census, where he was listed as Andrew M. He used the middle initial M. inconstently through his life. It was there for the WW I and WW II draft registrations, the 1930 census, and his father’s death certificate. It was missing from 1920 and 1940 census records, as well as Find-A-Grave. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize he was in Lakeside cemetery, so don’t have that headstone photo.

One issue with him was his birthplace. Early census records said he was born in Ontario, Canada, but later ones said it was Michigan. Which was it? This weekend I found his Canadian birth record at FamilySearch. The date was 2 days off from his other records, but his father didn’t register it until 3 or 4 weeks afterwards, so he may have mis-remembered. The parents’ names were correct, but what was most interesting was his name was given only as “Michael.” Apparently “Andrew” was added on, later.

When I re-examined the records I’d found for him, I realized that Canada was given as his birthplace when he was younger—when his parents would have provided the information. His draft registrations and later census records (when he would have provided it) all said Michigan. I also noticed in the 1900 & 1910 censuses, he, his parents, and two older siblings all emigrated in 1887. Andrew M. was born in September, 1887, so it seems they moved to Michigan in the 3½ months after he was born! By 1910, his father was naturalized, probably naturalizing his wife and children at the same time. Maybe Andrew didn’t really know he’d been born in Canada? His only memories growing up would have been of Michigan. Or maybe it was simpler to say he was natural born, rather than naturalized. I don’t know.

So the Andrew J. buried near John Joseeph wasn’t his son. Who was he? Andrew J. didn’t appear in Port Huron until the 1930 census. He was married with 3 children . . . who were all born in Massachusetts? That seemed a little odd. But he was buried close to the other Carmodys at Mount Hope, so that suggested a relationship.

When I found Michael’s family (John Joseph’s brother) in the 1901 Ireland census, there was an Andrew who was only 10 years old—a little younger than expected. But Andrew J.’s death certificate at clearly identifies him as one of Michael’s children—brother to Anna Carmody Bauman, Patrick, and Lena, and older sister Margaret Carmody Alloway, all of them emigrating to Michigan. So what was up with Massachusetts? I decided I need to to track that down.

Andrew’s oldest child should have been alive before the 1920 census, so I searched FamilySearch for the family. I found a likely match in the Boston area. The record indicated he’d emigrated in 1908, so I looked for him in 1910. His wife, Mary, emigrated in 1910, so they did not arrive together, and it’s unlikely they got married before enumeration day. Again, I found a likely Andrew living with a brother, John F. Carmody, and his wife, Catherine F.

But was this my Andrew? Boston had a lot of Irish, and Carmody isn’t that unusual a name. While the 1901 Ireland census had listed an older brother, John, that’s not an unusual name, either! I was able to find a 26 January 1910 marriage record for John Francis Carmody and Katherine Frances Gallagher. Fortunately, parents’ names were listed, and the groom’s parents were Michael Carmody and Mary Whelan. BINGO!

I would feel a little better if I found Andrew’s marriage certificate, but the databases at FamilySearch don’t quite go far enough. My Ancestry subscription has expired, but Ancestry is giving me a teaser that Andrew and Mary got married in 1916. I will have to follow up with that at the library. It seems that Michael’s son John, moved to Boston and settled there. John’s brother Andrew J., followed him there, but eventually moved to Michigan, where he was closer to his other siblings.

What about “Paddy’s son,” back in Ireland? I know the least about him. The 1901 Irish census listed a Patrick Carmody, age 38, living in house 7 in the Borheen, with his wife, Anne. Ten children are listed, including an Andrew, age 5. The only other Andrew Carmody listed in Ennis for that census was Andrew J., Michael’s son. This 2nd Andrew was still alive for the 1911 census. Were these the right Patrick and Andrew? A March 1859 birth record exists for a Patrick, son of Andrew and Mary Culliney. That fits with this Andrew’s father’s age in 1901. He is the only adult Patrick in The Borheen. There were, however, other Patrick Carmodys in Ennis—aged 44, 58, 19, 30, 47—though none of them had an Andrew.

Unfortunately, I haven’t found a marriage record around 1884 for Patrick and Annie, nor do I have a death record that might confirm this Patrick had the right parents. 1881 and 1891 census records (which might place his parents with him) were pulped during WW I. The information I have is circumstantial at best. If I could connect with descendants of Patrick’s children, I might get the verification I need. For now, though, it’s a big question mark.

Of course, all this started with Mike’s great grandfather, Andrew Carmody. Unfortunately, I don’t have a lot of information on him. He lived in/near Ennis, County Clare, Ireland, and married Mary Culleeny. Other than his appearance in his children’s birth registers, I haven’t found more about him. I’ve not located a death certificate. No marriage certificate. No birth certificate of his own, or anything to tell me who his parents were. He has left me with more questions than answers.

Nevertheless, I’m grateful he was an Andrew, and not a John or Patrick. I would be having a much harder time of it!


Sometimes, You’re Wrong

Rule 51, Gibbs’ rules–NCIS, “Rule Fifty-One” (Episode 24, Season 7)

As I was working on this week’s 52 Ancestors prompt, the research I found or reviewed made me realize I had made a mistake in a prior post. That wasn’t exactly the discovery I wanted to make!

The irony of it all is that the post in question, Close Up, talked about a mistake in my tree. I made the correction to my tree as soon as I discovered it. The blog post discussed how/why the mistake was made in the first place. That’s all well and good, except I now realize the explanation was wrong.

How embarrassing!

Rather than try to incorporate the additional correction into this week’s regular blog, I decided it should be dealt with on its own, beforehand. Otherwise I think it might have become lost in this week’s post, and would also make it more confusing.

I won’t rehash Close Up in depth—you have the link to go back and re-read it, if you like. The original problem stemmed from John Joseph Carmody’s death certificate having the wrong names for his parents. I discovered that fact later on, from his newspaper obituary. Make no mistake—his death certificate is still wrong! But it’s not wrong for the reasons I listed in the previous blog. I had said Andrew J. Carmody (John Joseph’s nephew) had been the informant and gave incorrect information. Nope.

The current mistake happened because I relied on 10+ year old memory, instead of re-examining the document when I wrote the post. So, how did I figure it out, today? I looked at my photo of the headstone for Andrew J., the nephew. His death year of 1939 was carved in it. John Joseph died in 1940. It’s really hard to be an informant if you are already dead. I clearly had a new problem.

After checking Andrew J.’s death certificate to confirm the headstone was correct (hey, mistakes happen, and might not get corrected!), I looked at John Joseph’s death certificate. It clearly said the informant was Andrew M.—John’s son, not his deceased nephew. The decedant’s father was “John J. Carmody” and the mother was “Mary Whelan.”

Originally, I was operating under the assumption that John Joseph’s parents were Mary Whelan and Michael Carmody. So I had assumed Andrew M. got the mother’s name correct, but had been distracted or grieving when stating the father’s name and gave his own father‘s name (John Joseph) instead of John Joseph’s father’s name. When I found the obituary, I discovered my faulty reasoning.

Unfortunately, once I corrected my file based on the new information from the obituary, I didn’t really think about it further. When I decided to write about that incident for a blog post, I should have pulled up the death certificate to double-check facts. I didn’t, so I misremembered some of the details. About the only defense I can make is that we were traveling in France at the time, and my time and internet access were somewhat limited. It’s a poor excuse, but the best I can muster!

Hopefully, I don’t have to correct that blog ever again! Of course, it still doesn’t explain why Andrew M. got those two pieces of information so abysmally wrong in the first place. I guess none of us is perfect . . .


Christmas, 1958. Gerald Bauman and Mike.

Google dictionary gives us this definition: ¹

  • Verb: care for and encourage the growth or development of.
  • help or encourage the development of.
  • cherish (a hope, belief, or ambition).
  • Noun: the process of caring for and encouraging the growth or development of someone or something.
  • upbringing, education, and environment, contrasted with inborn characteristics as an influence on or determinant of personality.

The definition describes only a fraction of what’s involved in nurturing. Are there people who have no one to nurture them? Sadly, yes. Are there others not being nurtured by those who should be nurturing them, but have others come into their life and provide what’s necessary? Fortunately, yes!

I think there’s another group, though, who are nurtured, but due to some unfortunate circumstances, find themselves feeling unnurtured. It can have a lifelong effect. I think my father-in-law may fit in that category.

Now, I’ll admit I’m skating on really thin ice, here! I never met the man— he died 3 years and a day before I married his son. Mike and I knew each other when his father died, but we weren’t dating, yet. Other than a few photos and documents, most of what I know about him is second hand.

You already met Gerald Bauman in Where There’s a Will. His mother, Mildred Fitzgerald Carmody, died a month after his birthday, and Jerry (yes, it’s “G” for his full name, “J” for the nickname!) was adopted by his first cousin, Anna Carmody, and her husband, Frank Bauman.

Anna and Frank married 13 January 1919, in Toledo, Ohio.² Frank was 9 years older than Anna. She had been married before, to a Julius Klammer and was granted a divorce from him 30 March 1918, on grounds of desertion.³ There’s more to his story, but that’ll be another day.

Julius and Anna married in 1908.4 I found a potential Julius in the WWI draft registration in 1917 who listed a “wife and child.”5 I never knew them to have children, but could this be my Anna? Did they have a child I don’t know about, or did he simply make up a child to appear less draftable? Maybe. There were a lot of unanswered questions, so I went digging.

The 1920 census doesn’t show any child in the household of the recently married Anna and Frank. It seems unlikely to me Julius would desert Anna and take a child with him. Maybe I’m wrong. It’s also possible this is a different Julius Klammer, but the name is distinct enough, I think not. I haven’t noticed others. I had trouble finding Julius and Anna in the 1910 census, but obsessive creative searching located them in Flint (NOT Port Huron or Detroit—more obvious places). 1910 was the second (and last) census where married women were asked how many children they HAD and how many were currently LIVING. Anna had one—and zero.6 Now that I had a new location for them, a search at found their son, Bernard, who died New Year’s Day, 1910, little more than a month before his first birthday.

So, why does that backstory matter to Jerry? As best I can tell, Anna and Frank had no biological children. The opportunity to adopt Jerry in 1928 was probably a dream come true—an answer to Anna and Frank’s prayers. He is the only child in their household for the 19307 and 19408 censuses.

Gerald Alfred [Carmody] Bauman, about 1930. This is probably his first set of wheels. The image is a trimmed-down (probably for a picture frame) “RealPhoto” postcard.

Nothing I’ve heard from Mike about Anna and Frank suggested that Jerry had any negative feelings for them. Presumably he was properly nurtured by them, and did maintain a relationship for a time with his older brothers, Michael and Joseph, placed with other families after Millie’s death.

Unfortunately, another untimely death complicated things. Frank Bauman died 18 July 1936 of “carcinoma—hepatic” when Jerry was only 8. That left Anna a widow in the middle of the Depression. How she made ends meet, I don’t know, but she and Jerry continued to live in Port Huron, with extended Carmody relations nearby—including Jerry’s birth father.

In 1940, death landed on Jerry’s doorstep, again. This time it was his adoptive mother, Anna. Some time that spring, she was diagnosed with kidney problems. She died 4 November 1940, of chronic nephritis that had been diagnosed 6 months earlier. Being widowed and in ill health, she presumably spent time that spring and summer making arrangements for 12-year-old Jerry’s care, if she were to die.

We don’t know who she approached to take him in. His oldest brother, Michael, was just turning 18, so really wouldn’t have been in a position to be able to take care of Jerry. There were numerous older half siblings (from John Joseph’s first wife) in Port Huron. They might have have been potential guardians for him, but none agreed to serve as such.

They ranged in age from 57 to 42, so some were already empty nesters, the others still dealing with their own teenagers. Either group may not have wanted to add another person to the mix. The Depression was also still going strong, so it’s possible those families really didn’t have the wherewithall to feed and clothe a teenage boy. If they were barely scraping by, another person might have been too much to take on.

Unfortunately, Jerry’s biological father, John Joseph Carmody, had died 4 January that year, of brachio pneumonia, almost age 78. At that age, he certainly wouldn’t have been able (or expected) to take Jerry in, but would he have been able to convince one of his other children to do so? Who knows? Maybe. Maybe not. But he died before Anna knew she was sick, so was of no help.

Bottom line, Anna was unable to find someone to agree to take Jerry in. Her will named Rollin B. Stocker executor and guardian for Jerry. Jerry spent time at the Starr Commonwealth (a children’s home, still in existence) in Albion, Michigan. This, of course uprooted him from his school and friends in Port Huron.

Actually, I never knew the home’s name, and had always thought it was in St. Clair, a town about 12 miles “down river” from Port Huron— not 160 miles away! Jerry graduated from the St. Clair High School, so I assumed it was there, and no one told me differently. Fortunately, we just spent two weeks cruising to and from Hawaii with Mike’s brother and his wife, so we had several conversations where the guys were able to “compare notes” about their memories. Each had heard (or maybe remembered?) different details from their dad. It wasn’t necessarily contradictory information, just different. Mike’s brother mentioned foster homes— something else I had never heard! Presumably the last one was in St. Clair.

Obviously, being orphaned had a huge impact on Jerry. According to Mike, his dad felt anger and resentment that none of the Carmodys took him in after Anna died. We don’t know how much Jerry did or didn’t know about Anna’s search for a replacement family for him. Maybe he heard all the details, or maybe she gave him only the Cliff Notes version.

Realistically, if you’re a 12-year-old kid about to be orphaned, it doesn’t really matter how good the reasons might be—or not be—for the adults around you not to take you in. All that matters is that you are losing your last parent, and no one wants you. You are feeling unwanted, unloved, and definitely not feeling nurtured! It’s a hard enough age under the best of circumstances—and his certainly weren’t the best!

I don’t know that Jerry had any animosity towards Stocker; he was just a man doing his job. He looked out for Jerry and his interests (assets held until adulthood). He wasn’t family, though, and didn’t make up for them.

Gerald Bauman high school photo. On the back, I’d written “Class of 1945” because that’s what I’d been told. That year needs investigation, though.

Jerry left high school early to join the Army, 5 November 1945 (age 17), and was honorably discharged 12 May 1947. He was awarded his high school diploma 11 June 1947, though he has the programs for all the Commencement activities (19 May-7 June, 1946) and the Honors Convocation held 28 May. He was already in the Army, so couldn’t have attended any of them. Someone must have saved those for him.

He and moved to Detroit shortly after his 1947 graduation. He didn’t keep in touch with the Port Huron Carmodys. Both full brothers had also moved away: Michael to Seattle, and Joseph to Pennsylvania, so he didn’t have a particular reason to stay in Port Huron. Since the three brothers hadn’t been raised together, I don’t know how much they kept in contact with each other as adults. Nor did Jerry reestablish contact with his Carmody half siblings, as an adult. That wound from his youth never fully healed, and was clearly expressed to Mike, as an older teen. His feelings mirror his father’s, in not wanting to connect with the descendants of these families. I’m not sure if that will extend to the Carmody descendants still in Ireland, but I’ll cross that bridge when I actually locate some!

This whole story makes me sad, though. Everyone has lost out, due to this rift. I’m not about to lay blame on anyone—not Anna, not the Carmody relatives, and certainly not Jerry—aged 12 or 40-something. People made the decisions they felt they had to, and were entitled to the feelings they had.

Perhaps as time passes, the emotions will mellow and dissipate. In the meantime, I need to look into getting whatever records might be available from both Starr Commonwealth and the high school. Hopefully, information from one or both institutions will answer lingering questions Mike and his brother may have regarding their dad’s life.



²Ohio, County Marriages, 1789-2013, index and images, accessed 8 March 2019, citing Lucas County, Franklin County Genealogical & Historical Society, Columbus, Ohio, FHL microfilm 004260731, image # 00171, reference ID it 1 p 273 No. 32685, image # 00165 of 333. Frank M. BAUMAN (39) and Anna B. KLAMMER (30); FamilySearch.

³Wayne County, Michigan, Circuit Court, In Chancery, divorce file No. 60,848 (30 March 1918) Anna KLAMMER v. Julius KLAMMER, decree of divorce; Coleman A. Young Municipal Center, Detroit. Copy obtained from estate files of Gerald Bauman.

4“Michigan Marriages, 1868-1925”, database, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, FamilySearch Record Search (, accessed 8 May 2019, citing Port Huron, Saint Clair, Michigan, reference n.g., citing FHL microfilm 2342682, image# 534, citing Secretary of State, Department of Vital Records, Lansing. Julius KLAMMER (21) and Anna CARMODY (20).

5“United States World War I Draft Registration Cards, 1917-1918”, digital image, The National Archives (, Julius KLAMMER, serial no. 1527, order no. 381, Draft Board Ward 4 Precinct 3, Wayne County, Michigan; citing World War I Selective Service System Draft Registration Cards, 1917-1918. Washington, D.C.: NARA microfilm publication M1509, 4,582 rolls. Imaged from Family History Library Roll No. 1,613,195; accessed 8 May 2019. Registered 5 June 1917.

61910 U.S. census, population schedule, Michigan, Genesee, Flint, e.d. 17; Page 6B; dwelling number 110; family number 121; line 79; Charles A. NORGET household; accessed 12 May 2019. Julius KLAWMER [KLAMMER], age 23, boarder; NARA microfilm publication T624, roll 642; digital image, (

71930 U.S. census, population schedule, Michigan, St. Clair, Port Huron, 10 precinct, e.d. 74-41; Page 1B; dwelling number 25; family number 25; line 73; Frank M. BOWMAN [BAUMAN] household; accessed 12 May 2019; NARA microfilm publication T626, roll 1025; digital image, (

81940 U.S. census, population schedule, Michigan, St. Clair, Port Huron, ward 10, e.d. 74-29; Page 1B; household number 12; line 42; Anna BAUMAN household; accessed 12 May 2019. Anna BAUMAN, age 52, widowed; NARA microfilm publication T627, roll 1815; digital image, (

Out of Place

“Being lost is worth the being found.” -Neil Diamond

Photo by Pixabay on

Ancestors and family members end up “out of place” for a wide variety of reasons. It seems mine have have used a good many of them. Sometimes it makes them difficult to find; other times it makes them impossible to locate!

Sometimes we don’t know to look somewhere else until we find their children’s birthplaces. The Kranz brothers (grand uncles, Ed and Adam) hid out farming in Iowa for about six years (In the News). Without later census records showing the Iowa birthplaces for some of their children, I’d never have thought to look there, though. The rest of their lives had been spent in the Chicago area.

The census isn’t always a help, though. I still haven’t located Uncle Iggy Schweiger in the 1920 or 1930 census records (Bachelor Uncle). It just occurred to me that his brother, Leo (Black Sheep), is also AWOL in the 1930 census. Had the brothers thrown in together for a time? Maybe. There’s no family lore to support that, but it might be possible. Of course, Uncle Leo decided to mix it up a bit, by breaking off communication with the family some time after 1942. That is definitely a time-honored way of being “out of place.”

Residing in a different, but nearby, town also makes people hard to find. I knew Jacob Meintzer (my 3rd great grandfather’s brother in Ten) existed, and had a houseful of kids. He wasn’t living in the same town as his brother, though, so it wasn’t until I accidentally ran across him in a neighboring town in the Alsatian census that I could piece him together, better. Whether he emigrated with his family to the Odessa region of Russia is still up for grabs, as is the possibility of later generations emigrating to the Dakotas. His line is still a little bit lost.

A fairly complete database of Civil War soldiers and sailors exists (with that name), so you would think Mike’s Kukler ancestor (Family Legend) would be there. Nothing found under Kukler, nor any of the other surnames married into that line. The military records coughed up a different Kukler — Frank E. — serving during/after the Spanish American War. I have no clue who he is and if/how he connects. So I have someone not where I’m expecting him and another who shouldn’t be in the records. Brilliant!

Sometimes we find someone out of place, but we don’t know the “why” that goes with it. Case in point: Christoph (Grandpa) Meintzer in Arkansas in the 1910s (So Far Away). There’s more to that story, but I don’t know what it is. Without his postcard from Arkansas, I wouldn’t even know there’s a story I’m missing.

Sometimes the “why” shows up later. I was puzzled by the marriage of John Joseph Carmody & Mildred Fitzgerald (Mike’s grandparents) 100 miles away from Port Huron, in Bay City, Michigan. They weren’t teenagers sneaking away from parents. They weren’t traveling to a place with easier marriage requirements. As I learned more about John Joseph’s involvement with transporting harness racing horses (Unusual Source), it made more sense. Numerous newspaper articles and ads had him busy during race season, shuttling the horses around. Of course he wasn’t in Port Huron! Getting married “on the road” may have been their only option, other than waiting until racing season was over. Two days after their wedding, it was announced in the Port Huron Times.

. . . Mr. Carmody went to Bay City this week to attend the race meeting and from there with his bride will go to Alpena.

“Carmody-Marshall,” 15 July 1921, accessed 20 September 2018, image number: 209880537; citing original p. 2, col. n.g, para. n.g, entry for Mrs. Mildred B. Marshall and John J. Carmody. Marriage license application notice below it in the column

Then there are the times when I lose my ancestors though my own fault — temporarily, at least — as I did when I misfiled the death certificate of my great-grandfather, Carl Moeller (Youngest). I came across it accidentally while looking for something else, but it was a wake-up call to me, reminding me I need to clean up my physical files. If I don’t know what I have, I don’t know what I need to look for, plain and simple.

Carl and his wife, Elfrieda Jonas Moeller, also ended up “out of place” through the fault of someone else on the Family Search tree (Challenge). Another user had incorrectly picked up Carl & Elfrieda as their similarly-named relatives, dragging my grandmother and her siblings into the whole mess. It took hours, but after confirming that the people they had blended with them were not correct (Drat! Those people had parents’ names!), I moved people around until the connections were correct. I hope they stay that way!

How do I avoid “out of place” situations? I can’t, unfortunately. But I can try to resolve them by:

  • Keep looking. Seriously, persistence sometimes pays off!
  • Search smarter. Use different spellings. Look for the kids. Use age and only the first name. Breaking out of the routine is sometimes effective.
  • Go page-by-page. Sometimes old-school and brute-force is the only way that will work.
  • Go on-site. Some records are not available online, so going in person is what needs to happen.
  • Give it a rest. New databases come online regularly. Sometimes I just need to tackle a different problem and give them a chance to show up.
  • Try a new database. Coupled with the one above, I think I’ve finally managed to acquire death and potential birth dates for Mike’s great-grandfather, Andrew Carmody. I wasn’t finding him in the others I searched.
  • Document everything. If I don’t know what I have, I don’t know where my gaps are.
  • Read every word for the evidence I have. Sometimes there are clues there that are more hidden. Picking just the low-hanging fruit may leave me missing the best!
  • Blog about it. Focusing on one person or family forces me to really look at what I know, and what I don’t know. I notice the gaps I have, and go in search of facts to fill them. Sometimes I find the answers I need, but if not, I still have organized my knowledge, and left myself a summary of where everything stands with that individual or family.
  • Read and watch. Blogs/newsletters/books and webinars. There are a whole lot of smarter/better genealogists our there. I’d be foolish not to learn from them. Sometimes it’ll be an entirely different approach, and other times they are telling me something I already know — but totally forgot about, and needed to be reminded of.

There’s no magic wand for any of this, but my “out of place people” don’t always have to stay lost.


Brick Wall

I have many brick walls, some of which you’ve seen. Unfortunately, most are miles away from being solved! With a potential trip to Ireland next year, it seems wise to take a look at one of the brick walls located there.

Mike’s Carmodys come from County Clare, Ireland. In Close Up, I revealed how the history I had for Mike’s grandfather, John J. Carmody, had been wrong, as a result of some incorrect information. Solving the problem of that unknown brick wall unfortunately created a new one!

To recap: I mistakenly had two brothers related as a father-son combo. When that was corrected, I had John J. correctly connected to Michael as a brother, with another potential brother, Patrick. Their father was Andrew Carmody, and mother was Mary Culleeny/Culliny/Culliney. Andrew was actually a fortunate first name, because outside of this family group, I don’t tend to see it (though all three sons named a son “Andrew”). It was much better than John or Patrick!

Unfortunately, besides his name, I don’t have much other information for Andrew Carmody. By the 1901 census, he and Mary seem to have already died. None of the early census records exist. The 1821-1851¹ were destroyed in the 1922 fire in the Public Record Office (a few stray pages survive). The 1861 and 1871¹ were destroyed shortly after they were taken, and the 1881 and 1891¹ were pulped during WWI (there was a paper shortage). So there are no helpful census snapshots of the family with Andrew in it.

Griffith’s valuation finally came online. What’s that? Well, it’s rather like a tax list. It calculated your contribution to support the poor and destitute within the local Poor Law Union. The rate was based on the property and how it was developed. The valuation took place between 1848 and 1864. That’s a perfect time period for Andrew.

When I search for him in County Clare, he appears in Griffith’s here. Snips from the page will make it a little easier to follow:

Griffith’s Valuation, page 169² (with the middle of the page clipped out). The red boxes point out the headings at the top, and Andrew Carmody’s entries: two as an Occupier (14 shillings owed for both), and one as the Lessor (landlord —8 shillings). I don’t know who pays the valuation — the Occupier or the Lessor. The green boxes point out other Carmody entries in the area: Margaret, Thomas, and Ellen. Parish of Drumcliff, The Borheen (heading missing in the snipped section).

It’s interesting to see three entries for him. How do I know all three are the same man? Well, the two as Occupier are, because in the 4th column for lot 29, it says, “see also No. 32.” If they were two distinct individuals, I doubt they would link the entries in that way. The property where Andrew Carmody is the Lessor is adjacent to No. 29. While it could be a different man, it seems unlikely that the only other Andrew Carmody in County Clare (a name search returned only these three results) happens to live next door to property owned by a different Andrew Carmody!

Section of a Griffith’s Valuation map² showing what I believe to be The Borheen area. It is north of the River Fergus. The almost vertical lane to their right is The Borheen (“country lane or rural road”), now called Marian Avenue. The blue arrows point toward the parcels I believe are associated with Andrew Carmody.

Could this NOT be Mike’s great grandfather? Possibly. But with no other Andrews in the county, and him being in the correct parish (Drumcliff) and place (Borheen), it makes a good case in his favor. Ideally, I would be able to find other documents tying him and his family to these properties.

I’m also curious why he is not occupying the property he owns. Perhaps his family had outgrown the house, so he needed to lease a larger one? It would be interesting to know more about Francis Gore (his landlord) — he was the Lessor for a lot of properties! It would also be nice to know who the other three Carmodys were. Quite likely they are related, but I have no clue how.

While it was great finding him (hopefully) in Griffith’s, it didn’t really solve the problem of whether there were other children or who his parents were. Fortunately, the Catholic parish registers have been put online from several sources. Find My Past has some of them available (with images), and some parishes have put the information online, themselves: sometimes indexes only, sometimes images.

Searching through parish records,³ I’ve pieced together a tentative list of the children of Andrew Carmody and Mary Culleeny:

  • Catharine, baptized 27 July 1845
  • Mary, baptized 30 December 1848
  • Ellen, baptized 22 November 1850
  • Anne, baptized 4 July 1853
  • Michael, baptized 18 August 1856
  • Patrick, baptized 14 March 1859
  • John, baptized 24 February 1862

Mike’s grandfather, John Joseph, appears to be the last child. Curiously, though, his birth date as recorded in US documents is mid-August, 1863. The parish baptism index does not include his middle name (or initial). There are no later children for this couple, though. It’s possible that this son, John, died, and they had another son that they named John Joseph, 15-16 August 1863. I don’t have access to death records to test that theory, but I need to look for possible evidence of that.

Similarly, there was a Mary Carmody, baptized 18 February 1843 to an Andrew and a Mary Collins. Granted, Collins seems a long way from Culleeny (or any of her spelling variations), but it’s actually closer than one would think. No other Carmody fathers are named Andrew in the index, and no other Carmody children born to a Mary Collins — married to an Andrew, or not.

So it’s possible this Mary is also one of their children — the first one, perhaps. Since there is clearly another Mary born in 1848, if that is the case, the first Mary must have died before then. Further research looking at the actual documents (rather than a transcription) is necessary to assess who the 1843 Mary belongs to.

Their marriage date is still up in the air. The parish marriage index³ shows only one Andrew Carmody. He has a marriage date of 27 July 1840. That date fits with the other information I have (children’s births — even the potential “extra Mary.” Unfortunately, the bride is listed as “Mary Carmody.” Sometimes same-named couples marry (related or not), but sometimes the person filling in the register/certificate — or the transcriber — makes a mistake. For some reason the bride’s maiden name isn’t recorded, so the married surname is used in its place. While this index entry is an encouraging lead, looking at the actual record might solve the dilemma.

Additionally, the index doesn’t tell us their ages or their parents’ names. Is that information included in the original? Maybe. That’s another reason to view the original! If I can’t locate images online, I may need to see if I can get access to them when we travel there. I don’t have death dates for Andrew or Mary. Those might point me to birth dates (and parents?) for them.

As I looked for “my” (well, Mike’s) Carmodys, I stumbled across all sorts of other ones nearby. Are they related? Maybe. I don’t know if Andrew had siblings — if so, their records might point me to parents. They could also be cousins. But how to keep track of them, with stray children, marriages, and so on? How do I figure out their connections (or lack of) to each other? I decided I needed to spin off a separate “working file” just for the Carmodys. I can enter Carmody data as I find it, without cluttering my own file. It lets me deal with them in a contained environment. When I get them sorted out, I can transfer the ones I need back to my regular file.

This brick wall is still pretty solid . . . Bummer. I need to keep chipping away at it, and checking for new record sets to come online to help break through it.


¹National Archives of Ireland, “Census of Ireland 1901/1911 and Census Fragments and Substitutes, 1821-51”, database, The National Archives of Ireland (, paragraph 3.

²”Griffith’s Valuation, 1847-1864″, database,, Ask About Ireland (, General Valuation, p. 169, for Andrew CARMODY, occupier, The Borheen, Ennis (town), Lifford (townland), Drumcliff (parish), Ennis (union), Islands (barony), County Clare, accessed 7 April 2019.

³     Search on “carmody” in the surname field, click submit. List of baptisms is creates, sorted by father’s name, then mother’s name.


To shave, or not to shave . . .

I was not terribly excited about this prompt, because I had zero ideas about what to write about. We don’t have any Amish in our trees, and offhand I couldn’t think of anyone with a beard. Mike’s 18-day beard when we went camping in the Pacific Northwest in 1998 (he decided to take a vacation from shaving) wasn’t particularly noteworthy. I don’t think we have a photo record of it, either.

His beard was kind of nice, and had grown out past the awkward and uncomfortable stage—itchy for him and rough/scratchy for me. But he shaved it off when we got home. As soon as we got home. That afternoon—not the next morning. No warning to me. No chance to say goodbye to it. I was in the yard picking up the mail from the neighbor and talking about the trip, when he walks out with a naked face! There aren’t even words.

So yeah, no story there. A couple weeks of working on other posts intervened. It finally occurred to me that Christian Meintzer did have a beard, but he’s already had quite a bit of press in the blog (My Favorite Photo and Colorful), and I don’t have any particular story about him and his beard. Cousins, feel free to help out!

So I’m going to cheat and back off to just a mustache. A number of them hang around our trees;

John Carmody portrait 1906
Photo ca. 1906 probably provided by him to The Port Huron Daily Herald for an article written about him 2 March 1906

some you’ve seen before. The first is John Joseph Carmody, Mike’s paternal grandfather. You meet him in Unusual Source. As I mentioned then, I don’t know that much about him, and certainly don’t know any stories about his mustache. But his photo from the paper is just to awesome to pass up!

Another mustache, attached to my great-grandfather, Carl Moeller, was from the same turn-of-the-century era. My mom remembers this grandfather’s handlebar mustache when she was growing up, and she said he had a mug with a bar across the bottom edge to keep his mustache dry when he was drinking coffee. When I see one of those in an antique stop, my mind immediately goes to him! He’s the 2nd from the left of the men in the foreground, below.

Carl Moeller Northbrook photo_0001

From the photos I have seen, my grandfather, Christoph Meintzer, never sported a mustache, but his older brother, Jacob, seemed to. Unfortunately, I can’t seem to put my hands on one of Uncle Jake’s photos.

I don’t recall my dad or any of my uncles having mustaches, but I vividly remember a time when all three of my brothers were mustachioed. It was the 1970s, so that explains a lot! Several cousins had them, also—some never giving them up.

1975 dad and sons
1974-1976? Warren, Bob, Dad and Bill in front of the house we kids grew up in. Three mustaches and one not. This is a fairly rare image of Warren with a mustache.

I must be getting old, because it seems one memory begets another. As I wrote this, I suddenly remembered my oldest brother, Bob, coming home for our oldest sister, Carole, getting married in May, 1969. I was at school when Mom picked him up at O’Hare . . . with hair down to his shoulders, and a full beard. She was not at all pleased. I don’t know what discussion went on, but by the time I got home from school, his hair was shorter and the beard trimmed up. Mom was visibly happier!

1969 May 31 Mom & Bob
31 May 1969 Mom and Bob, at Carole’s wedding.

Beards and mustaches aren’t particularly important in the grand scheme of things. We sometimes get so caught up in the stories of our people, that we ignore the littler stories behind the stories. Often those are as interesting—or more mysterious—than bigger issues in their lives. Were they

  • Following the fashion of the time?
  • Rebelling?
  • Taking on a dare?
  • Trying to be taken more seriously in their profession?

Most of the time we will never know, but it’s interesting to look for possible patterns. And we need to save those photos for blackmail, later!