tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55174271875777266622024-02-20T21:25:38.421-05:00Two Sides of the OceanCherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970548713593980384noreply@blogger.comBlogger100125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5517427187577726662.post-79117526312332396562021-12-28T10:00:00.015-05:002021-12-28T10:00:00.156-05:00From Whence I Came - George William Wellhausen<p><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial;"><b><i><u>GEORGE WILLIAM WELLHAUSEN</u></i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Here I am with my final post in the "From Whence I Came" series that I began at the beginning of this year. Over this year I have posted on each of my four grandparents and seven of my great-grandparents. This post, today, will complete the series when I post about my eighth great-grandparent.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>George William Wellhausen was born December 28, 1869 in Detroit, Michigan to Charles Ernst Wellhausen and Christina Graumann. He was their fifth child and first son with daughters Bertha, Augusta, Caroline and Anna born prior to his birth. Two additional sons, Edward and Charles, would be born after George's birth. In later years, George would become the father of my paternal grandmother, <a href="https://2sidesoftheocean.blogspot.com/2009/11/from-whence-i-came-ella-anna-helene.html">Ella Wellhausen Schulte</a>.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>While George was born in Detroit the family soon relocated to Clinton Township, Michigan in Macomb County where he met his future wife, <a href="https://2sidesoftheocean.blogspot.com/2010/11/from-whence-i-came-emilie-auguste.html"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Amelia Schluessler</span></a>. They were married on February 14, 1895. This was Valentine's day which makes me wonder if he was a romantic man!</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Together George and Amelia had three children - daughters Gertrude and Ella and son, George, Jr.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>I do know that my great-grandfather enjoyed hunting and fishing as my uncle, Melbourne Schulte, relates that his grandfather taught him both sports which were activities that my father was definitely not interested in. Obviously George enjoyed his hunting with his younger brother, Edward, as well as these photos depict:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjEbjhvM-Z-JOQ8SC21cSMcja4RZX6heDq1wn3ZFE7npk3RKX_v3LiiNAIOyIZEeahoEm-9yaK3HEUJSyWx7AYyGu-KT6CuzTIBpxkRijv3qBiHKa80DwAD-qn_zir6JRI3WZWNCmPe-R1DOQETtZF_jDTf_1rh70vA4IQtJB3DViZnh5g9rpi7jmZJbQ=s496" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="446" data-original-width="496" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjEbjhvM-Z-JOQ8SC21cSMcja4RZX6heDq1wn3ZFE7npk3RKX_v3LiiNAIOyIZEeahoEm-9yaK3HEUJSyWx7AYyGu-KT6CuzTIBpxkRijv3qBiHKa80DwAD-qn_zir6JRI3WZWNCmPe-R1DOQETtZF_jDTf_1rh70vA4IQtJB3DViZnh5g9rpi7jmZJbQ=s320" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgF4VIDMPLuGBDN15jCJDXlS6SrguRSmVqw5-wtoKHzT9ywO9R8Cj9H9UQkcAcU_bmGl--DY_eGXf2QQogRoMcodSKmNxETKh--Rp8C2RtIzLpBxVwBgsnzUZObW05nRNncTFhV2KQt0v5L_taNie9z7XscA_noi4nQZEnpob9VN_n3mXfiwwgAcjPRYQ=s600" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="388" data-original-width="600" height="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgF4VIDMPLuGBDN15jCJDXlS6SrguRSmVqw5-wtoKHzT9ywO9R8Cj9H9UQkcAcU_bmGl--DY_eGXf2QQogRoMcodSKmNxETKh--Rp8C2RtIzLpBxVwBgsnzUZObW05nRNncTFhV2KQt0v5L_taNie9z7XscA_noi4nQZEnpob9VN_n3mXfiwwgAcjPRYQ=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><i>Over the years George tried farming but it proved too strenuous for his health conditions. He later ran a General Store which was more suited to his health. He was also civic minded and served as the Clerk of Utica, Michigan from 1917-1918 and as Mayor of Utica from 1920-1921.</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>George was particularly fond of his granddaughter, Alvis Jean, who was born to his son, George, Jr. and wife, Eleanor. I have several photos showing Alvis with her grandpa and it is obvious that he loved having her around as this photo taken July 1, 1935 shows:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjtYN5pFpiDNr0nZRdy5YK-4Zz1vds-raLqDUOjFEkYOE9TO87UFgWBoiNlSQJ9IZ7cEktX4bILnpzkKt8vTLkLAl52ImP_fvy_kq8NkaLs-mywDDFKD7dDOidgwTWLhQSvBgNIo2D5vkk155Tx0pvHZQgX-4ngncIYUxlKvBujhfMHD2JNdj06RRmCdA=s858" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="558" data-original-width="858" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjtYN5pFpiDNr0nZRdy5YK-4Zz1vds-raLqDUOjFEkYOE9TO87UFgWBoiNlSQJ9IZ7cEktX4bILnpzkKt8vTLkLAl52ImP_fvy_kq8NkaLs-mywDDFKD7dDOidgwTWLhQSvBgNIo2D5vkk155Tx0pvHZQgX-4ngncIYUxlKvBujhfMHD2JNdj06RRmCdA=s320" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>Anolther photo taken in 1935 shows George Wellhausen, Jr. holding his son, Lynwood with Alvis Jean standing in front of her grandpa, George Wellhausen, Sr. What the dog's name was is anyone's guess but I am betting it was the hunting dog!</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi81l0728GSaQ9wgMB5UYmbYThtqt-Fbuy-ixL_CarVUEhTi0UetfPKnZHo3ClB2N0S9ecQ3o1Njl8QnUYF_6aaqctWzSEJOroDcWgzIIsj5IW-qJdyQ7OYWPK3zPC2tS9Ph4HNRE7YBgiRiQktd_IYLBPsxrzJ5DqKCp3opXul4V8VPhUJa5U5iyIxiw=s958" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="958" data-original-width="639" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi81l0728GSaQ9wgMB5UYmbYThtqt-Fbuy-ixL_CarVUEhTi0UetfPKnZHo3ClB2N0S9ecQ3o1Njl8QnUYF_6aaqctWzSEJOroDcWgzIIsj5IW-qJdyQ7OYWPK3zPC2tS9Ph4HNRE7YBgiRiQktd_IYLBPsxrzJ5DqKCp3opXul4V8VPhUJa5U5iyIxiw=s320" width="213" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>Tragically, Alvis would pass away at the age of 5 after an accident. Her death greatly affected George perhaps contributing to his own death a few years later.</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>George Wellhausen passed away on April 8, 1938 in Utica, Michigan and he is buried with his wife, Amelia, in Utica Cemetery.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Following George's death my uncle, Mel Schulte, asked his grandmother Wellhausen if he could have his grandfather, George's, car which he desperately wanted. George had taught his grandson how to drive and had let him drive this car around their property on different occasions. Amelia agreed to sell the car to Mel for $300 but not until Mel had proved to her that he had the money readily available. We have had some good laughs about that remarking "that definitely sounds like great-grandma" who was known for her frugal ways.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>A few years ago my uncle Mel submitted the story about the purchase of his first car along with a photo to Reminisce Magazine who selected the story and photo for their yearly calendar. He was mighty proud of this selection and the memories of his grandfather that this evoked:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiPXNY1FZaOjRfbpZflo8g4fso9yKycZoVoDQUvdX4Rm0c_3Co6SZYe9vAejISFr0lxV3L3gCKhR-asr58clwJuE_wLo3WAehfRsQ80DQ7I59Uv6Q-HpnSblP2-Qo62o_l00_WWUznfGUQjQ5iL4ly1nhqzMtbwjhrjvhPPNl2a610uI53H4s-KAmYKVA=s679" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="679" data-original-width="615" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiPXNY1FZaOjRfbpZflo8g4fso9yKycZoVoDQUvdX4Rm0c_3Co6SZYe9vAejISFr0lxV3L3gCKhR-asr58clwJuE_wLo3WAehfRsQ80DQ7I59Uv6Q-HpnSblP2-Qo62o_l00_WWUznfGUQjQ5iL4ly1nhqzMtbwjhrjvhPPNl2a610uI53H4s-KAmYKVA=s320" width="290" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>While I never knew my great-grandfather, George Wellhausen, I have been thinking of him on this the 152nd anniversary of his birth.</i></b></span><p></p><p><b style="background-color: #c6dafc; font-family: arial; font-size: 17.6px; font-style: italic;"><b><b style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU4CEZoKpx7WZ7XdzPMI4ygp5MWFSXsS198odOqkAHKj9oZ3EhCIDf4Eux-tBZAuFkBtz-7Z9DaMQNwCLY9MRnOO3VnLrBBQr2q1dVKFT7zwDyppw4nAkdq9VueYhgJ7cyrVY0zKxGz7w/s474/Kijak%252C+Ella+playing+organ.jpg" style="color: black; display: inline; padding: 1em 0px; text-decoration-line: none;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial; font-size: xx-small;">Copyright 2021, Cheryl J. Schulte</b></a></i></b></b></b></p>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970548713593980384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5517427187577726662.post-72625476328972003882021-12-27T16:38:00.001-05:002021-12-27T16:57:58.858-05:0052 Ancestors in 52 Weeks - Week 52 "Future"<p><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial;"><b><i><u>PRESERVING MY RESEARCH</u></i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Here we are - Week 52 in the "52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks" Challenge. I made it! I am proud of myself for persevering through these last 52 weeks so that I could complete the challenge. I now have 52 posts with stories of my ancestors which I enjoyed creating on my blog.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>But now what? Yes, I have recorded photos, stories and details of my various ancestors and their lives and they are now residing on my blog. </i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>What about the future? Will blogs still appear on the Web as the years go by. Will Ancestry.com and Family Tree Maker still exist as the years go by? Who knows.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>While I do have my more than 40+ years of research on Family Tree Maker and also on Ancestry.com will those remain there in the future. As I have seen in my life technology has changed and improved over the years from manual typewriters, electric typewriters, word processors, DOS computers and finally the Internet and I have enjoyed all the research benefits that Windows computers have given me.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>While I was never married and never blessed to have children of my own I do want my research to be preserved into the future. My niece has already advised me that she wants all my research and I will give her access to my Family Tree Maker and Ancestry. But while that data is very important it does not include all the other ancestral information.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>That is why I have been creating books on my various family lines and having them professionally printed. These will also be passed on to my niece and hopefully to her children and their families some day though her children right now are only 5, 3 and 6 months!</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Here are the 4 books that I have created so far. They are all different, created in different styles and formats but contain valuable information on our ancestors that cannot be totally found in Family Tree Maker and/or Ancestry.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>My first book created in 2008 prior to my trip to Berlin to meet and visit with Kolberg cousins. I created this book to give my cousin as a "host gift" as it contained information on our mutual Kolberg ancestors from Klein Tuchen, Kreis Bütow, Pommern that he was not aware of. In return he gave me vital information on his branch of our Kolberg family which will someday be included in a larger and more comprehensive book on our Kolberg ancestors:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg3g18Sd4PmEtd_W40Jvl1FCkf_vLJhvhq__t6b7XY9BkSDmsiUGbSZpjS_DZdiDNOpLHA2ZgAj21RbsBKWywz83pCBLDqVfmHws_sNCnbOXk7xxgU9BUbCEBM2oISoxAO-65mYzHdRq7qXgr5KLQJzbLyH_SOLnqL-H-6prQY3jPk1Hz4l89PfVG3KyA=s6803" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4932" data-original-width="6803" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg3g18Sd4PmEtd_W40Jvl1FCkf_vLJhvhq__t6b7XY9BkSDmsiUGbSZpjS_DZdiDNOpLHA2ZgAj21RbsBKWywz83pCBLDqVfmHws_sNCnbOXk7xxgU9BUbCEBM2oISoxAO-65mYzHdRq7qXgr5KLQJzbLyH_SOLnqL-H-6prQY3jPk1Hz4l89PfVG3KyA=s320" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>Book number two created in 2020 with a cousin of mine on our Schulte line from Beckum, Westphalia, Germany to Detroit, Michigan:</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgkWgbg79PIk68zqOHwoGV1sXDNPyj2CEXaNKS5KciILegMQqAGTMr7j85IPJaXe7zekHiPv6bb8rDN6LkqneOGlMbvMIHpVekMUtGE63bufu0ucBhXtEzZ-jX9_5QJ6jWRrQuE10KFCRvNjbEzGdi2PjmASsXwpDqXVCEIhraIhcZO92SvgWNpN15DKQ=s5336" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5336" data-original-width="3555" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgkWgbg79PIk68zqOHwoGV1sXDNPyj2CEXaNKS5KciILegMQqAGTMr7j85IPJaXe7zekHiPv6bb8rDN6LkqneOGlMbvMIHpVekMUtGE63bufu0ucBhXtEzZ-jX9_5QJ6jWRrQuE10KFCRvNjbEzGdi2PjmASsXwpDqXVCEIhraIhcZO92SvgWNpN15DKQ=s320" width="213" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>Book number three, in conjunction with the above book, also with my cousin's expertise. This book details our Schulte ancestry from our 2nd great grandfather, Joseph Meyer Schulte, his ancestors and descendants. This was a mammoth project that took many years but one that my cousin and I are very proud of.</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Front cover:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh7kVFDh_DPXZzS6FcyaEKX-S84JbDg25HXXL6fpskJQXBXkKlSVPosp9DUwIw0VIvmFZsJ0ny77UBl-TAWr5KbnkeTMC1CZuGxxL6Q-MHBWtwvj1p-4lALEhgCIYLmAGptiQdndqIQd2EWfIC3wzUn3jqF26QPm_6X9MW2LOhCd2sKbguKAvEnhknH_Q=s5866" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5866" data-original-width="4586" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh7kVFDh_DPXZzS6FcyaEKX-S84JbDg25HXXL6fpskJQXBXkKlSVPosp9DUwIw0VIvmFZsJ0ny77UBl-TAWr5KbnkeTMC1CZuGxxL6Q-MHBWtwvj1p-4lALEhgCIYLmAGptiQdndqIQd2EWfIC3wzUn3jqF26QPm_6X9MW2LOhCd2sKbguKAvEnhknH_Q=s320" width="250" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>and back cover:</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjNheFWNQ0jgMoCIq44Et9sVkYgGq8uXBxzuIpLycjiacbW9nEZqeEjgyOL96t3PGjAxU007kpP60BzhOw-yCEPGsHCjL2ZIHp6B0FQCxkyIeXBbTWv1dCXN84NU3PiMTBTbOMsRrtoKu20ecb7K345y9Rvch8NEiBj_pHuC_CnW1hbI6RrwVeh4iXFgw=s5866" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5866" data-original-width="4574" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjNheFWNQ0jgMoCIq44Et9sVkYgGq8uXBxzuIpLycjiacbW9nEZqeEjgyOL96t3PGjAxU007kpP60BzhOw-yCEPGsHCjL2ZIHp6B0FQCxkyIeXBbTWv1dCXN84NU3PiMTBTbOMsRrtoKu20ecb7K345y9Rvch8NEiBj_pHuC_CnW1hbI6RrwVeh4iXFgw=s320" width="250" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>And, finally, my most current book completed this year. This is a book detailing my 2 1/2 week visit to Berlin, Germany in 2008 to visit my above named Kolberg cousins. While I had intended to prepare this book soon after my trip, it only took me 13 years to finally knuckle down and create the book!</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEggG7zafHbdqa131vBy1iLMhPhm_SHKYnZlqDl2HSgBWnRIPcPWvJNrj642Eep2OJlV-EiBg3-rSRMJkqU3m8jk8oorH4bUC8br0cDEyq08LXDKTQXniJabcBUL8A3KQqxorMXdYf3Jgxll68lbVLMDPLriw0C-8F0OJoy931GhGYUdlSxFg2x11lmIBQ=s6410" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="6410" data-original-width="4588" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEggG7zafHbdqa131vBy1iLMhPhm_SHKYnZlqDl2HSgBWnRIPcPWvJNrj642Eep2OJlV-EiBg3-rSRMJkqU3m8jk8oorH4bUC8br0cDEyq08LXDKTQXniJabcBUL8A3KQqxorMXdYf3Jgxll68lbVLMDPLriw0C-8F0OJoy931GhGYUdlSxFg2x11lmIBQ=s320" width="229" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>This 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks challenge has now been completed and I look forward to creating more family books in the future. I am seriously considering taking these 52 posts and putting them into a book - or 3 books considering the size of my posts - in the coming year!</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>I recently saw a quote that spoke to me regarding the preservation of our memories:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>"What we have done for ourselves alone dies with us. What we have done for others and the world remains and is immortal" by Albert Pike.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>I hope that my research, a very important part of my life, continues to be shared with generations to come! </i></b></span></p><p><b style="background-color: #c6dafc; font-family: arial; font-size: 17.6px; font-style: italic;"><b><b style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU4CEZoKpx7WZ7XdzPMI4ygp5MWFSXsS198odOqkAHKj9oZ3EhCIDf4Eux-tBZAuFkBtz-7Z9DaMQNwCLY9MRnOO3VnLrBBQr2q1dVKFT7zwDyppw4nAkdq9VueYhgJ7cyrVY0zKxGz7w/s474/Kijak%252C+Ella+playing+organ.jpg" style="color: black; display: inline; padding: 1em 0px;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial; font-size: xx-small;">Copyright 2021, Cheryl J. Schulte</b></a></i></b></b></b></p>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970548713593980384noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5517427187577726662.post-15354256994408173672021-12-24T15:24:00.033-05:002021-12-25T18:01:06.139-05:00From Whence I Came - Marianna Rubis<p><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial;"><b><i><u>MARIANNA RUBIS</u></i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>My decision to write a 12-post series on my four grandparents and eight great-grandparents was an exciting challenge. To date, the ten posts I have written were enjoyable to write and not very difficult due to the materials and photos, information and identifiable data that I had on these ancestors. I derived pleasure in doing these posts and feel that I did these ancestors justice as I personally remembered them or as others have spoken about them to me.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Today's post, though, is going to be the most challenging of all. While all of the previous ten ancestors lived lives that were not perfection, had financial and personal challenges, I am confident that they all had happy lives that overshadowed the down times. In all that I have learned about my great-grandmother Marianna Rubis, though, I don't know if I can safely say that her life was at all happy and pleasant. I hope that I can do her justice in my tribute to her.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Marianna Rubis at her marriage on October 26, 1891:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgOpjWu1_qsYk0xNIm7z821HeLTOYYBf-G7QOtH4NwLA-FkdSjOWB-oRm7MrrUFNDeRTqnl373XKEaBeLXgADNN0EYdYF1lrEuWLUrQ6qE8xfgMw8L3gxUF3GSF-zeoMCzMVx8hO5oxyj21YrS3BdwJAkh1-s9abAkHFeAvlw4nMrR6qRJR4j0MggT7mA=s1525" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1525" data-original-width="995" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgOpjWu1_qsYk0xNIm7z821HeLTOYYBf-G7QOtH4NwLA-FkdSjOWB-oRm7MrrUFNDeRTqnl373XKEaBeLXgADNN0EYdYF1lrEuWLUrQ6qE8xfgMw8L3gxUF3GSF-zeoMCzMVx8hO5oxyj21YrS3BdwJAkh1-s9abAkHFeAvlw4nMrR6qRJR4j0MggT7mA=s320" width="209" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>The Polish birth certificate that I received on my great-grandmother states:</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i><span>"No. 29</span><br /></i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i><span><span>Komorowo on December 29th, 1874 before the undersigned Civil Registrar appeared today the laborer Lorenz Rubisch, who is known to us in person residing in Jeziorzany of the catholic religion and announced that a female child was born to Anna Rubisch nee Nowak, his wife of the catholic religion residing with him in Jezierzany on December 24 - twenty fourth of the year one thousand eight hundred seventy four at one AM at his apartment in Jeziorzany who received the given name Marianna. Read, approved, and since the declarant doesn't know how to write, undersigned with his hand-sign XXX The Registrar Sellentin."</span></span></i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i><span></span></i></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgtLaeT24RggHYg0nTjblsXAbO35zXJvHgnpYdI2BFkzcVmNfYpe0C6sUsRK3mgAPw0YCtG-LOx2ErYaaPYc9QTIi_k-w5l3aEs-meqyXemRCuLs7Zkztib1mc-TaxIZe4JLMRhQG2jmNFDc0jL1aZycnx_yCHDEjYEHLwVZlcBh0hO8HXgEip7X9eF1Q=s3604" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3604" data-original-width="2325" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgtLaeT24RggHYg0nTjblsXAbO35zXJvHgnpYdI2BFkzcVmNfYpe0C6sUsRK3mgAPw0YCtG-LOx2ErYaaPYc9QTIi_k-w5l3aEs-meqyXemRCuLs7Zkztib1mc-TaxIZe4JLMRhQG2jmNFDc0jL1aZycnx_yCHDEjYEHLwVZlcBh0hO8HXgEip7X9eF1Q=s320" width="206" /></a></i></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i><br /><span>Lorenz and Anna Rubis had two older children, Andrej Rubis (Andrew), born in 1861 and Jozefa Rubis (Josephine), born in 1867. In April of 1878 they had another son named Stanislaus (Stanley). Father, Lorenz Rubis, passed away on March 16, 1887 in Rzegnowo, Poland from tuberculosis.</span></i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i><span><span>Over the years in my research I have seen the surname spelled in a variety of ways but the spelling used in the US was Rubis and that is the spelling I have used in my records.</span></span></i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>In 1888, following the death of her husband, Lorenz, Anna Rubis immigrated to the US to Bay City, Michigan with her two youngest children, Marianna and Stanley. Despite extensive research I have still been unable to find a passenger list showing their immigration though the 1900 Bay City, Michigan US census shows the date of 1888. </i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Anna's son, Andreas Rubis, and his wife, Marianna Wierzbicki, were married in Gnesen, Germany on February 17, 1884 and also immigrated to Bay City, Michigan. </i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>In addition, Anna's daughter, Josefa Rubis, and her husband, Thomas Krzwoszynski, also married in Gnesen, Germany on June 21, 1885 and also immigrated to Bay City, Michigan. </i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>While I have received the Polish birth and marriage records for Andreas and Josefa I am still unable to also locate passenger list information showing their immigration to the US. However, by 1900 the Rubis family were all living in Bay City, Michigan. I do not know what prompted their choice of Bay City but there was a large Polish community there and perhaps they had other friends from their home village already living in this town in Michigan.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>I have no further information on my great-grandmother, Marianna, from the time she arrived in the US until her marriage on October 26, 1891 at St. Stanislaus Catholic Church in Bay City to <a href="https://2sidesoftheocean.blogspot.com/2010/05/from-whence-i-came-john-albert-kijak.html"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">John Albert Kijak</span></a>.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgfz7pGE34-ZlQmLpCc2XrJ5L_SJYPM0XLMkBPY0sxIXJyj4Z10On2pHUmNweopmYSOjVStXThaep_Oz55fWwNEazfY__O9bgq5wGzW95i11hPb2fiaDvgkZtVFZVHSEBStmV9rjc0Ojq7fqnlCHKeSOSdQNFp6b6nvcHS8vI2Np4XD6KJoSRzl_oXpYg=s1748" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1748" data-original-width="1032" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgfz7pGE34-ZlQmLpCc2XrJ5L_SJYPM0XLMkBPY0sxIXJyj4Z10On2pHUmNweopmYSOjVStXThaep_Oz55fWwNEazfY__O9bgq5wGzW95i11hPb2fiaDvgkZtVFZVHSEBStmV9rjc0Ojq7fqnlCHKeSOSdQNFp6b6nvcHS8vI2Np4XD6KJoSRzl_oXpYg=s320" width="189" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>They would have four children in the next nine years - Joseph born in 1892, Anna born in 1894, Martha born in 1896 and Rozalie (Rosa) born in 1898. All four children were born in Bay City.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>On Marianna and John Kijak's marriage record that I received from St. Stanislaus Catholic Church in Bay City it indicated that Marianna had been born in Zczierzany, Gniemenski, Poland. A vigorous search for any village in Poland resembling this spelling was never found. When I did finally receive her birth record I saw that the village was called Jeziorzany, Poland which phonetically resembled the spelling on the marriage record. It is likely that Marianna's pronunciation of her birth place to the recorder of her marriage was spelled the way the clerk understood it. In any event, her birth record is definitive proof of her birth place of Jeziorzany, Poland.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Once I had received birth records from Poland on both Marianna Rubis and her husband, John Albert Kijak, I could see that Marianna was only 16 when she married John Kijak and he was 30 1/2 years old. Even though this was a common practice at this time with younger women marrying older men I had to feel sorry for Marianna, a young girl who could not read, write or speak English, coming to a strange country and being married to a man near 15 years older than herself. </i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Was Marianna's family life a happy one? Was it moderately happy? Were the four Kijak children growing up in a loving family atmosphere? From all indications that I have found and after numerous discussions with cousins it would appear that they were not a happy family. John Kijak was obviously not destined to be a family man. Each time Marianna was expecting a new baby John would take a hiatus and leave the family home, go off and stay with other family members and be gone for months at a time. He would return eventually, stay for a while and when Marianna was again expecting another child, he would be off and running again. This has been shared with me by more than one older cousin who were old enough to remember "Uncle John" staying at their home for months at a time. After the fourth such incident, Marianna had had enough.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>BUT...divorce was unheard of for a Roman Catholic young woman of only 24 with four young children. John Kijak again left the family home and went to live with other cousins; it would appear there were no lack of relatives willing to take him into their home. And what about Marianna and her four children who were just 2, 4, 6 and 8 years of age?</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Records indicate that in 1900 Marianna, her brother, Stanley Rubisz, and her four Kijak children, Joseph, Anna, Martha and Rosa moved to South Bend, Indiana. They moved with a man named Frank Banner, Sr. who had been living also in Bay City. In South Bend, Marianna entered into a common law relationship with Frank Banner. I doubt that was acceptable in the Catholic church either but Marianna was determined not to get a divorce from John Kijak.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>In short order, Marianna and Frank had at least five children - Emma, Frank, Jr., Anthony, George and James Banner. The 1910 US census for South Bend, Indiana indicated that Marianna was the mother of 11 children of which 9 were living in 1910. I later learned that Marianna and Frank had another two children who died in infancy.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>This photo shows Marianna with her children Emma, Frank, Jr and Anthony Banner taken in approximately 1906:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhgAMwM86aF73jiyLb9WhEmswNV5DxaBBo6VM0lHOv965uhJeGVl4dJgzcYr58zKCGPIJg5Ez4axeC4VEpmyVrH3d45PQIv2vqvrzuyYlOB_rFP4Onhd2mQQziV5_BnY2aoQZ-lOHqzH_dnFFfhJGWUkPIr2hjXTHXD37cjERWEp3Hk3qf8ev90LEc2BQ=s712" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="712" data-original-width="637" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhgAMwM86aF73jiyLb9WhEmswNV5DxaBBo6VM0lHOv965uhJeGVl4dJgzcYr58zKCGPIJg5Ez4axeC4VEpmyVrH3d45PQIv2vqvrzuyYlOB_rFP4Onhd2mQQziV5_BnY2aoQZ-lOHqzH_dnFFfhJGWUkPIr2hjXTHXD37cjERWEp3Hk3qf8ev90LEc2BQ=s320" width="286" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>Am I able to assume that life in Indiana was better than in Michigan for Marianna? Was her relationship with Frank Banner happier than her marriage to John Kijak? It would appear that the answer to both of these questions would be "No".</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Marianna's daughter, Anna Kijak, told my mother that Marianna had a very sad and unhappy life without any kind of caring or sharing in her two relationships. Both men were unkind, cold and mentally abusive. I can only hope that neither was physically abusive to her but Anna never mentioned that.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>In late 1917 Marianna became ill in South Bend. Rather than caring for her himself, Frank Banner called her daughter, Anna, in Detroit where Anna and her husband were living. He told her that her mother was ill and made the command "come and get her". Anna and her husband did make the trip to South Bend from Detroit and Anna brought her mother back to Detroit to care for her.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Marianna Kijak passed away at the home of her daughter at 500 Piper in Detroit on April 25, 1918. She was buried in Mt. Olivet Catholic Cemetery on East McNichols and Van Dyke on the east side of Detroit.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Following her death, her children with Frank Banner, who were 4, 6, 8 10 and 12 at the time, were placed in a children's home. In short order Marianna's daughters with John Kijak, Anna and Rosa, rescued the children from the children's home and each took a few to raise themselves.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>When I began my research on my great-grandmother, Marianna Rubis, I struggled to find her death certificate. I had assumed she would be listed as Mary Banner and would have passed away in South Bend, Indiana. It was only after receiving information from Marianna's daughter, Anna Kijak, who in later years lived in Florida (she lived to be 101 years old), I was able to learn the true facts:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Marianna had not been married to Frank Banner so her name at death was Marianna Kijak.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>She had passed away in Detroit and was buried in Mt. Olivet Cemetery in Detroit.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>The family had never put down a gravestone for Marianna.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>This bothered me and I could not get past the fact that my great-grandmother was lying in a single grave, far removed from her family members and that nobody still living even knew she was there. I made a trip to the cemetery and learned the exact location of Marianna's burial site, then went to a local monument shop and selected a gravestone to be placed on her grave though at the time I did not have the accurate birth date to use; that date would be found many years later when I received the birth record from Poland:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgZu3oeGHY_thAtzmw3H8Bc909bK1msT-zvNr7d7edCDCzA_FkiEyDeYibYrtAnSD2dhfMzD_3uptv7hH69UmS-BTbBXdwP0048zWkbbgFWXa9K7YOMgqBasjI_hTGZCSOovlFTjarOsT7iPD6kDsIzaQeJyCmbLGu3hcHSmjjLFMI6CS75ipuGAxYhEA=s2705" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1441" data-original-width="2705" height="170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgZu3oeGHY_thAtzmw3H8Bc909bK1msT-zvNr7d7edCDCzA_FkiEyDeYibYrtAnSD2dhfMzD_3uptv7hH69UmS-BTbBXdwP0048zWkbbgFWXa9K7YOMgqBasjI_hTGZCSOovlFTjarOsT7iPD6kDsIzaQeJyCmbLGu3hcHSmjjLFMI6CS75ipuGAxYhEA=s320" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>I can only hope that my great-grandmother is truly resting in peace in heaven and that she somehow knows that her great-granddaughter thinks often of her on this the 147th anniversary of her birth.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><b style="background-color: #c6dafc; font-size: 17.6px; font-style: italic;"><b style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU4CEZoKpx7WZ7XdzPMI4ygp5MWFSXsS198odOqkAHKj9oZ3EhCIDf4Eux-tBZAuFkBtz-7Z9DaMQNwCLY9MRnOO3VnLrBBQr2q1dVKFT7zwDyppw4nAkdq9VueYhgJ7cyrVY0zKxGz7w/s474/Kijak%252C+Ella+playing+organ.jpg" style="color: black; display: inline; padding: 1em 0px;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial; font-size: xx-small;">Copyright 2021, Cheryl J. Schulte</b></a></i></b></b></b></span></p><p></p>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970548713593980384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5517427187577726662.post-7917814096819024622021-12-20T18:00:00.000-05:002021-12-20T19:05:18.509-05:0052 Ancestors in 52 Weeks - Week 51 "Holiday"<p><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial;"><b><i><u>HOLIDAY COOKIES</u></i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>One of the fun parts of the Christmas holidays are Christmas cookies. My mother had an enormous amount of cookie recipes and each year we would decide which ones she would make. One of my favorite cookies were her cut-outs. Her recipe came from an old cookbook called "Aunt Jenny's Favorite Recipes" which I noticed is still available from Amazon. The recipe for my mother's cut out cookies were called "Ice Box Cookies". Why that name I don't know because the dough definitely did NOT go in the ice box before baking. </i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>By the age of 10 I was actively helping my mother with the cookie recipe. It was a lot of work and a lot of mess but the end result were delicious cookies. We frosted them appropriately to their design with the stars frosted yellow, the trees green, the bells and Santa were pink. I can still hear my father saying "can you give me a few of those pink cookies"? They were also a favorite cookie of my Aunt Virginia Schulte and when she and my uncle moved to Arizona in retirement I would send her a box of them every Christmas. She would always tell me that it didn't matter if they broke because she would lick the crumbs right out of the Ziploc bags. She also refused to let my uncle have any because she considered them her treat. (Of course, I did make my uncle's favorite date nut cookies as well which traveled in a much safer manner). My aunt was not a baker and to have these cookies were a special gift for her.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>When I was 12 years old my aunt and uncle's son, Mel, Jr., wanted Christmas cookies and since his mother didn't bake I offered to go over to their house and make him our special cut outs. I can still see him, a 17 year old young man sitting at their kitchen table watching me with fascination while I mixed the dough, rolled out the cookies, baked them, let them cool for a while and frosted them. Needless to say I was there the whole day but it was a memory that I still have. I need to ask him sometime if he remembers those cookies. I bet he does!</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>I have German family living in Berlin. We communicate via "What's App" because I don't speak German very well and my cousin, Uschi, doesn't speak English very well. With "What's App" we can type our message in our own language, have it translate and send it to each other. It is a great tool and free to boot. </i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>The other night I woke up at 4 am because my little dog was interested in some ornaments on the Christmas tree! As I often do when I wake up in the middle of the night I looked at my phone and saw that I had a message from Uschi from Berlin (where it was 10 am). Of course I had to look at the message where she was telling me that she had made Christmas cookies with three of her grandchildren and she had the photos to prove it.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Evidently she was able to tell in Berlin that I was looking at the message at that time and another message came to me from her saying "don't you sleep" which made me laugh and I sent back a message to her stating "I wish I was in Berlin to sample those cookies". It was a fun few minutes of typing messages, translating and sending back and forth.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>From her pictures I can see that cookie making and cut out cookie making is the same whether in Michigan or in Berlin, Germany:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjBaGiYMM1KUK1eKIyZ97lQI-UdEU4EMmPyAw7jlVzybS4h1M_P0jBkmQbFuvpd8gd3GGZgWFQsCs785OJz_i8VRCDOUfclw-mobg8ew3hVChS2Abk5c380xTVB6xn8hpsdUM5VJKUm_EAh59E-MTEsxxykIsp8hEcRBflKrBKxPTO3xtOpshdUfFn2OQ=s1600" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjBaGiYMM1KUK1eKIyZ97lQI-UdEU4EMmPyAw7jlVzybS4h1M_P0jBkmQbFuvpd8gd3GGZgWFQsCs785OJz_i8VRCDOUfclw-mobg8ew3hVChS2Abk5c380xTVB6xn8hpsdUM5VJKUm_EAh59E-MTEsxxykIsp8hEcRBflKrBKxPTO3xtOpshdUfFn2OQ=s320" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEir7x-MD2jPtBMCAOZtyyjAsIqm5ac1S6J7gxNJF8G0foZ9d1j_8pprUPjfGUxWnabIJFR9Gp1NP4Os5H_qz1kF6s0Seq9LahbD0MLH3yYfBg11KN2NmZSVJdbladD97AuX4O0S8BkXsiR_oM83UmPedT_T-X2owgjvT-BcpVmLdsLs4AlIAInRsftoUg=s1600" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEir7x-MD2jPtBMCAOZtyyjAsIqm5ac1S6J7gxNJF8G0foZ9d1j_8pprUPjfGUxWnabIJFR9Gp1NP4Os5H_qz1kF6s0Seq9LahbD0MLH3yYfBg11KN2NmZSVJdbladD97AuX4O0S8BkXsiR_oM83UmPedT_T-X2owgjvT-BcpVmLdsLs4AlIAInRsftoUg=s320" width="240" /></a></div><p><i>and the end result is.....delicious:</i></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjje9b3c-g8lH5iJQNYrDa0_Z2EHHPmRskHz0ZyG2Y0Ahq71UX_kUt6BI6PsiYrDby1Db5sRuytjGGHWFSYQ1tSfbN_8MF_HTKpeFhA-RR5H1mXUb7DEYQuPgBFZG4nx1-YhKsSAVF73UlVJC5b24DHD6XgJrZlCzVSE11fItTeJTIvRbQCcnMth8OXBA=s1600" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjje9b3c-g8lH5iJQNYrDa0_Z2EHHPmRskHz0ZyG2Y0Ahq71UX_kUt6BI6PsiYrDby1Db5sRuytjGGHWFSYQ1tSfbN_8MF_HTKpeFhA-RR5H1mXUb7DEYQuPgBFZG4nx1-YhKsSAVF73UlVJC5b24DHD6XgJrZlCzVSE11fItTeJTIvRbQCcnMth8OXBA=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><i>Even at 4 am in Michigan I was tempted to make a cup of tea and pretend I was sampling those beauties from Berlin.</i><p></p></b></span><b style="background-color: #c6dafc; font-family: arial; font-size: 17.6px; font-style: italic;"><b style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU4CEZoKpx7WZ7XdzPMI4ygp5MWFSXsS198odOqkAHKj9oZ3EhCIDf4Eux-tBZAuFkBtz-7Z9DaMQNwCLY9MRnOO3VnLrBBQr2q1dVKFT7zwDyppw4nAkdq9VueYhgJ7cyrVY0zKxGz7w/s474/Kijak%252C+Ella+playing+organ.jpg" style="color: black; display: inline; padding: 1em 0px;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial; font-size: xx-small;">Copyright 2021, Cheryl J. Schulte</b></a></i></b></b><p></p>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970548713593980384noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5517427187577726662.post-47728112225360987872021-12-13T22:57:00.051-05:002021-12-19T23:17:08.880-05:0052 Ancestors in 52 Weeks - Week 50 "Lines"<p><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial;"><b><i><u>LEARNING HER LINES</u></i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>The topic for Week 50 of the "52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks" challenge was a tough one for me. Finally I decided to write about my mother, Eloris (Kijak) Schulte, and the various times "lines" became part of her life.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>In 1936, at the age of 11, my mother took part in a school play at Trinity Lutheran School in St. Joseph, Michigan. This was a Thanksgiving play and she had lines to learn as part of this performance. Here she is with her fellow cast mates. My mother is standing on the bottom row, the second person from the left:</i></b></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjzSIHMe6xzFx7aGs_vFEZmOUurGvFfwPdhhbV8BwbiKA9xKWlJbACmljpVbNiJr4PPlI0uJD-zpfQSJq5w_cvFpMfLbxDTE28PUlM1N1V4L_Ob6KSsrWWKF9omLTzyKZxuj4xHyt6RqZ1kpBC-tzcqk6urK2q8uZSOPY8agx33Ro5AqkJ12Vay71eMow=s2187" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1381" data-original-width="2187" height="202" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjzSIHMe6xzFx7aGs_vFEZmOUurGvFfwPdhhbV8BwbiKA9xKWlJbACmljpVbNiJr4PPlI0uJD-zpfQSJq5w_cvFpMfLbxDTE28PUlM1N1V4L_Ob6KSsrWWKF9omLTzyKZxuj4xHyt6RqZ1kpBC-tzcqk6urK2q8uZSOPY8agx33Ro5AqkJ12Vay71eMow=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Another view of the same play with my mother in the second row, first person on the left:</i></b></span><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgFQ2HeHnoNBUiqJbE3LpEGLALNarzxEIdtb614mLbSH0H8bXrJta3m4Q3sZRYBDhKvVOEN0x1FljALTh9m7V4C_AgGfajoWhUW_nTKRVUV-uhqisLtF5RVTsULtKKdfxaLkxwgvKvA7SH5BYNVouFtDxgQjZD4yEzvlck0wcbs4sMuFQjbxvYUv0Rw3w=s2187" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1381" data-original-width="2187" height="202" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgFQ2HeHnoNBUiqJbE3LpEGLALNarzxEIdtb614mLbSH0H8bXrJta3m4Q3sZRYBDhKvVOEN0x1FljALTh9m7V4C_AgGfajoWhUW_nTKRVUV-uhqisLtF5RVTsULtKKdfxaLkxwgvKvA7SH5BYNVouFtDxgQjZD4yEzvlck0wcbs4sMuFQjbxvYUv0Rw3w=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>In 1939 at her confirmation from Trinity Lutheran Church in St. Joseph, Michigan, my mother had to learn the lines from her confirmation verse and recite it:</i></b></span><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjpeBO6uZc63OjgdvbQcxyyk7l3Eqy5PgDggwvjEjZzNBZsLZ8VXedyLEsQwlX7pzbs3J-qybsp8-5U9wzig5cQDtwSmJutxwI1MujLBLHytrxmfWGbvfKrcO_b_sZK9izQnR1pLqNTy_vYXS80dR2M7hwH4OPrPgN5O5NZsX83d_prStE87A1gQIXkDw=s1219" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1219" data-original-width="803" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjpeBO6uZc63OjgdvbQcxyyk7l3Eqy5PgDggwvjEjZzNBZsLZ8VXedyLEsQwlX7pzbs3J-qybsp8-5U9wzig5cQDtwSmJutxwI1MujLBLHytrxmfWGbvfKrcO_b_sZK9izQnR1pLqNTy_vYXS80dR2M7hwH4OPrPgN5O5NZsX83d_prStE87A1gQIXkDw=s320" width="211" /></a></div><p><b style="font-family: arial;"><i>The entire confirmation class of 1939 with my mother in the second row, the fourth person from the left:</i></b></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i></i></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiYUVznOJZ8evPaYYQ399WdYmE_OO8wntXhLqICI6PhAQQrbmtW0bmVwOTarvKltSXP4CrmZMnkZZABJEmmEYpLe2jgnt5o4uerPWi1kNajDFoFtLjGJ8UN6VCoM48tDPBoZ52q6rcac0CV0HwttwWPIUL-bc-2yKW_b0J8MbcH4AiN3Zu0KscckVTmpg=s5766" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3762" data-original-width="5766" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiYUVznOJZ8evPaYYQ399WdYmE_OO8wntXhLqICI6PhAQQrbmtW0bmVwOTarvKltSXP4CrmZMnkZZABJEmmEYpLe2jgnt5o4uerPWi1kNajDFoFtLjGJ8UN6VCoM48tDPBoZ52q6rcac0CV0HwttwWPIUL-bc-2yKW_b0J8MbcH4AiN3Zu0KscckVTmpg=s320" width="320" /></a></i></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i><br />My mother had a great soprano voice and sang many solos over the years at church memorizing her lines. Here is a photo of her in 1995 singing a solo at her church, St. Thomas Lutheran in East Detroit, Michigan:</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEivykDhR4HBEfTKyrxg2UfilOqyj-HQesxx29ZQiw5d8XjPV0q7mIWj8Sr3AlM0ULOo8He63pxvtgZq8AxiJCK3nsSe0CD_SSyw1DPV45QG0Fx5ipXOwXFEi90P5ynftAqWAdMOyPKUIPsnyywvS3MT32RIIhIcF6USvjaYIL4BU6bj1qUtnkjQ0TSf1A=s2209" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1949" data-original-width="2209" height="282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEivykDhR4HBEfTKyrxg2UfilOqyj-HQesxx29ZQiw5d8XjPV0q7mIWj8Sr3AlM0ULOo8He63pxvtgZq8AxiJCK3nsSe0CD_SSyw1DPV45QG0Fx5ipXOwXFEi90P5ynftAqWAdMOyPKUIPsnyywvS3MT32RIIhIcF6USvjaYIL4BU6bj1qUtnkjQ0TSf1A=s320" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>Interestingly one of my mother's early jobs also included "lines". In 1943, upon graduation from high school, she worked for Michigan Bell in Benton Harbor, Michigan as a "ship to shore" telephone operator. When my parents were married and relocated to Detroit, Michigan she transferred to the Detroit office of Michigan Bell and continued her career as a ship to shore telephone operator.</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>"Lines" in various forms were indeed a part of my mother's 91 years of life.</i></b></span></p><p><b style="background-color: #c6dafc; font-family: arial; font-size: 17.6px; font-style: italic;"><b style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU4CEZoKpx7WZ7XdzPMI4ygp5MWFSXsS198odOqkAHKj9oZ3EhCIDf4Eux-tBZAuFkBtz-7Z9DaMQNwCLY9MRnOO3VnLrBBQr2q1dVKFT7zwDyppw4nAkdq9VueYhgJ7cyrVY0zKxGz7w/s474/Kijak%252C+Ella+playing+organ.jpg" style="color: black; display: inline; padding: 1em 0px;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial; font-size: xx-small;">Copyright 2021, Cheryl J. Schulte</b></a></i></b></b></p>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970548713593980384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5517427187577726662.post-55803970335428748442021-12-06T15:40:00.063-05:002021-12-19T16:12:17.655-05:0052 Ancestors in 52 Weeks - Week 49 "Homemade"<p><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial;"><b><i><u>HOMEMADE BY GRANDMA AND GRANDPA</u></i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>My maternal grandparents, Ella, nee Kolberg and Joseph Kijak, were loving grandparents whose memories I will carry with me forever. They were also very talented in woodworking (grandpa) and craft work (grandma). Here are some examples of their talents which I still have today and am proud to display in my home:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Homemade by my grandmother:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>My christening slip and gown:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjhSyysp7-8MTyzIFhhjLWjkgTEuvSgf9iW19zGqSzQdWh-p2xOwkor0fgLxOfnLqss_QV-RQwjTlgmybC3xuaX99xCJR5MOBShGP-PcexFuvimdaj9Vd-8liaEQaTxnOEvCS2uGS3s7NyeVhcy7DrYeI7iL2USzn0_I3BvhYzwaBsdFG3EYlhrL-Cr_w=s3082" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3082" data-original-width="2134" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjhSyysp7-8MTyzIFhhjLWjkgTEuvSgf9iW19zGqSzQdWh-p2xOwkor0fgLxOfnLqss_QV-RQwjTlgmybC3xuaX99xCJR5MOBShGP-PcexFuvimdaj9Vd-8liaEQaTxnOEvCS2uGS3s7NyeVhcy7DrYeI7iL2USzn0_I3BvhYzwaBsdFG3EYlhrL-Cr_w=s320" width="222" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgxO2XftUPKcqrce01mfoKPU5WgCEWXv101-fB2TsauDM-ilux7_s1no8LrKlfwnN4lEYZhajVHB0LVrDJMRYhah60SW1J5ihTAmqT8T9EH06cvGVgOmIuDYOYYkbXIO_CZj-5xJ5uyW1Tk2p0RKrJ5JaGMZbIdEDwQ-YMHC0uWov0p2Q2pEKRnM1Xbuw=s3294" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3294" data-original-width="2508" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgxO2XftUPKcqrce01mfoKPU5WgCEWXv101-fB2TsauDM-ilux7_s1no8LrKlfwnN4lEYZhajVHB0LVrDJMRYhah60SW1J5ihTAmqT8T9EH06cvGVgOmIuDYOYYkbXIO_CZj-5xJ5uyW1Tk2p0RKrJ5JaGMZbIdEDwQ-YMHC0uWov0p2Q2pEKRnM1Xbuw=s320" width="244" /></a></div><p><b><i>Christmas decorations:</i></b></p></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhnyeLZDs10q3vA5u_aFIYRNUCuE5A6i8Jpyb_OdheNvhfskl5OLtJJe86z4UnKsTwOyhQ8SCrm8P8mUndX8a9AqAsBBBRXDPvdA_zyPa8kLWkGtJtvHb3J6u50txi5wIcHvLGCUwy99wCCLsnTVLveixngkfeirI8P9FoDv1T7UiUsOwV6AD5bxs4mjw=s4032" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhnyeLZDs10q3vA5u_aFIYRNUCuE5A6i8Jpyb_OdheNvhfskl5OLtJJe86z4UnKsTwOyhQ8SCrm8P8mUndX8a9AqAsBBBRXDPvdA_zyPa8kLWkGtJtvHb3J6u50txi5wIcHvLGCUwy99wCCLsnTVLveixngkfeirI8P9FoDv1T7UiUsOwV6AD5bxs4mjw=s320" width="240" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Homemade Easter eggs:</i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjzuc-16vhQ0Y7jbLAjkzO1KQzhEqY8DlyN3iDIRoRy-F9QEhALe80bURnX6THuJQ5jeBfOo8cp7aIspgNwbS5pGt68Sg6VN18kI21ZTEOmf1gbMYfSdTA1_8wlgRBZ-Jf15ThJU-I-t0gc69gb21GYx-wUgnUn794URE19PfwUYlNRVMlDpENPLb0CZg=s3572" style="font-weight: bold; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3572" data-original-width="2881" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjzuc-16vhQ0Y7jbLAjkzO1KQzhEqY8DlyN3iDIRoRy-F9QEhALe80bURnX6THuJQ5jeBfOo8cp7aIspgNwbS5pGt68Sg6VN18kI21ZTEOmf1gbMYfSdTA1_8wlgRBZ-Jf15ThJU-I-t0gc69gb21GYx-wUgnUn794URE19PfwUYlNRVMlDpENPLb0CZg=s320" width="258" /></a></span></div><b style="font-family: arial;"><i><p><b><i>Stuffed animals (two poodles and "Tony the Tiger"):</i></b></p></i></b><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhmlyuUHfhNBO3BauniDTxJU7mQhuOpJ4PGGqGAMsAuRs9yEeZBqQTREfz-VrWW-VEcpDlLGbU5bVIOz58yHEuCQc4T3faXrLig2vGSMUH-0aI28YUKLCTD5wDsrdR4ZYIYG8fUa2BU3xaYyD2fdtGBJFlEGxikoLgn5Pvtzhs0lVhHtXVn4h9h_V-UVQ=s2675" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1959" data-original-width="2675" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhmlyuUHfhNBO3BauniDTxJU7mQhuOpJ4PGGqGAMsAuRs9yEeZBqQTREfz-VrWW-VEcpDlLGbU5bVIOz58yHEuCQc4T3faXrLig2vGSMUH-0aI28YUKLCTD5wDsrdR4ZYIYG8fUa2BU3xaYyD2fdtGBJFlEGxikoLgn5Pvtzhs0lVhHtXVn4h9h_V-UVQ=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Baby clothes for me:</i></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhCqd3jIId2-RVQdLPXr8wUNjv0HIbu_WgSCMItc496e6snUInnQIm3tsAMc08luyig-tPNQK-WsDOeqQgMo4IUJZEmEyYpfcvQ4n-77WA1FyAB8OaVTHWUNW74F5vql_BuE7aBgvE6etMhHcNHzGL4l8A10QiByfczdulJFG8roboCY-XYupZ05Qu1QQ=s2822" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2346" data-original-width="2822" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhCqd3jIId2-RVQdLPXr8wUNjv0HIbu_WgSCMItc496e6snUInnQIm3tsAMc08luyig-tPNQK-WsDOeqQgMo4IUJZEmEyYpfcvQ4n-77WA1FyAB8OaVTHWUNW74F5vql_BuE7aBgvE6etMhHcNHzGL4l8A10QiByfczdulJFG8roboCY-XYupZ05Qu1QQ=s320" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div>My Mickey Mouse stuffed animal which my grandmother made in varying fabrics for many of my cousins (it is stuffed with women's hosiery):</i></b></span><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgZODByhZp708-LP7-Y-r7CmHfy8WNK_KbTiZ5QkO53Tu_wyzbyJPWNHi0FCEsxPGR7vPi_oLQgLKFGGpy8EriQLOn97bBaLUP3Sm5XcSCdjXVnutWvUY2wjI6pAWyza4xldW-FBg8poKUxjqZrHj0TCeXIvIbXu7bO-1cR-2cgfkXCtbUHPiIO0e7nbg=s1515" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1356" data-original-width="1515" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgZODByhZp708-LP7-Y-r7CmHfy8WNK_KbTiZ5QkO53Tu_wyzbyJPWNHi0FCEsxPGR7vPi_oLQgLKFGGpy8EriQLOn97bBaLUP3Sm5XcSCdjXVnutWvUY2wjI6pAWyza4xldW-FBg8poKUxjqZrHj0TCeXIvIbXu7bO-1cR-2cgfkXCtbUHPiIO0e7nbg=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Homemade by my grandfather:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Doll furniture:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhhJfKxY-An31N7JDWTVHLLjllqCuRnQ8UqfCG_T2BeVw5oj8YKntSxZhveCBQNEOG_04Y5rpYN5GnQuI4HKQvUx0TtZWUoju8_THtKLl9gZK3Odd0ValsHTogiSbV_rjTlerveAz7xivUasxeEJUba_25EMoVl3t5uu0I7YBo70ul4sPXbtzfS-Rc0ig=s2611" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1335" data-original-width="2611" height="164" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhhJfKxY-An31N7JDWTVHLLjllqCuRnQ8UqfCG_T2BeVw5oj8YKntSxZhveCBQNEOG_04Y5rpYN5GnQuI4HKQvUx0TtZWUoju8_THtKLl9gZK3Odd0ValsHTogiSbV_rjTlerveAz7xivUasxeEJUba_25EMoVl3t5uu0I7YBo70ul4sPXbtzfS-Rc0ig=s320" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj3U8zq2jiF4-dkTLYi8wS3DAbl5YOBt4Pb-xUcSJ8qmqkqG9m5QVecJdSv-i1ErlzllBBb5p5-RerhgXiGMOMT01H0LNQvjcvHPYguF8olzAkZ6-Adfjql-zUt5zRY5KNr71of9oIdCpUzLiyjN0S7FfvDRgiiQC12cQOG8epGXO5ZKibFXuAtNTrk1g=s3337" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1495" data-original-width="3337" height="143" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj3U8zq2jiF4-dkTLYi8wS3DAbl5YOBt4Pb-xUcSJ8qmqkqG9m5QVecJdSv-i1ErlzllBBb5p5-RerhgXiGMOMT01H0LNQvjcvHPYguF8olzAkZ6-Adfjql-zUt5zRY5KNr71of9oIdCpUzLiyjN0S7FfvDRgiiQC12cQOG8epGXO5ZKibFXuAtNTrk1g=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjx4Fmx9l5Tzd2u--IG81f7_QzvJ3wo5yJTXAL5Fwb-CXaMw_mPwyLPHfWq2FBj3RrAs1mjEoCPuMoOLMuHZ0R2ntBya0i8GHhvIC1jBIRVoR6-A7_8dnxloS-9vDSrvnweQ5cjivJTB8168DxvKd52gkAkSocHiPahRXWC9Kde-qnQv7qB1eZkd-VBEg=s2610" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1021" data-original-width="2610" height="125" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjx4Fmx9l5Tzd2u--IG81f7_QzvJ3wo5yJTXAL5Fwb-CXaMw_mPwyLPHfWq2FBj3RrAs1mjEoCPuMoOLMuHZ0R2ntBya0i8GHhvIC1jBIRVoR6-A7_8dnxloS-9vDSrvnweQ5cjivJTB8168DxvKd52gkAkSocHiPahRXWC9Kde-qnQv7qB1eZkd-VBEg=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p><b><i>My mother's rocking chair:</i></b></p></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgaj-9LeAspM78X2XRykf68hwQT6RNM6ygIBIXDE8q7_GtGP4DMVgwKl6rXhYuQw62VkuHSO0IdzDDTqJc-alNiTsWSvHYzOhNAu_SdoWnaF60H3-Wx6uCFqRIlOwfwqt_kaUMvLjavVGJZiWzPNxkoifRHYXG4HQhCrf6o485aA6Pk9bOZacsSNX6i3A=s3284" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3284" data-original-width="2669" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgaj-9LeAspM78X2XRykf68hwQT6RNM6ygIBIXDE8q7_GtGP4DMVgwKl6rXhYuQw62VkuHSO0IdzDDTqJc-alNiTsWSvHYzOhNAu_SdoWnaF60H3-Wx6uCFqRIlOwfwqt_kaUMvLjavVGJZiWzPNxkoifRHYXG4HQhCrf6o485aA6Pk9bOZacsSNX6i3A=s320" width="260" /></a></b></span></div><p><b style="font-family: arial;"><i>Storage trunk which I still use today:</i></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhPnRECTpKH6xZl91HrM6jfLPV_gqmeqsn2tqMraSKOALMCG4-u-w4jM-YzNsr2eG8EthFLYKY1olFEuDfWPX0kM3xA5Ddd1Y0078j5D0JhNHDy4Vty4SpUB5M_55PgWkLA5iAl3OpGmZbqkCcaYRj3dDmB238OS7LHz2DzE1Ycjm8DDEKvlONdNqDtqg=s2913" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1989" data-original-width="2913" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhPnRECTpKH6xZl91HrM6jfLPV_gqmeqsn2tqMraSKOALMCG4-u-w4jM-YzNsr2eG8EthFLYKY1olFEuDfWPX0kM3xA5Ddd1Y0078j5D0JhNHDy4Vty4SpUB5M_55PgWkLA5iAl3OpGmZbqkCcaYRj3dDmB238OS7LHz2DzE1Ycjm8DDEKvlONdNqDtqg=s320" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><p><b style="font-family: arial;"><i>My grandparents were talented people and I know that they would be pleased to know that all the above items are in my home and are still displayed by me.</i></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><b style="background-color: #c6dafc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 17.6px; font-style: italic;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU4CEZoKpx7WZ7XdzPMI4ygp5MWFSXsS198odOqkAHKj9oZ3EhCIDf4Eux-tBZAuFkBtz-7Z9DaMQNwCLY9MRnOO3VnLrBBQr2q1dVKFT7zwDyppw4nAkdq9VueYhgJ7cyrVY0zKxGz7w/s474/Kijak%252C+Ella+playing+organ.jpg" style="color: black; display: inline; padding: 1em 0px;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial; font-size: xx-small;">Copyright 2021, Cheryl J. Schulte</b></a></i></b></b></span></p><p></p></div>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970548713593980384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5517427187577726662.post-6779508195980787342021-11-29T15:20:00.029-05:002021-12-19T15:57:43.563-05:0052 Ancestors in 52 Weeks - Week 48 "Strength"<p><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial;"><b><i><u>HUMOROUS STRENGTH</u></i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Here I am already on Week 48 of the "52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks" challenge. I can't believe that I have stuck with this challenge week after week but I am glad that I have. It has been enjoyable reaching into my memories for topics for weekly posts. Today I have a brief and humorous post depicting the topic of "Strength".</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>One of my ancestors that I have blogged about quite a few times is my paternal uncle Melbourne Schulte. I had a close and loving relationship with him and he was my godfather as well. I had him a long time; he was 92 when he passed away in 2013. I will never forget him and the love that he showed me.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>My uncle was also a very humorous man and the following photo shows that humor and strength:</i></b></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhmwNgYQl6RTzueWrjkzbnTvQ-Uqf31NyvSdYhNsfiF1RzUL9bUVAEXL7KNuL8aBiIgVXbuHfNbiv1kQ_bXw5c2ujvGaJyGzc62_bXF6xCWAhcBynZJug3B4lVlwaBrz_mCKaVxpxg0OQEf6IrEHjzHgFewTr1ce0L4BYrti_Yb4xgqo5vkepUQOn8NEw=s498" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="438" data-original-width="498" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhmwNgYQl6RTzueWrjkzbnTvQ-Uqf31NyvSdYhNsfiF1RzUL9bUVAEXL7KNuL8aBiIgVXbuHfNbiv1kQ_bXw5c2ujvGaJyGzc62_bXF6xCWAhcBynZJug3B4lVlwaBrz_mCKaVxpxg0OQEf6IrEHjzHgFewTr1ce0L4BYrti_Yb4xgqo5vkepUQOn8NEw=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>The above is a photo of my Uncle Mel picking up HIS uncle, George Wellhausen, Sr. This picture was taken in my parent's back yard on Dwight in East Detroit, Michigan. I don't recall what the occasion was or why my uncle decided to pick up his uncle but it is true representation of his humor and his strength.</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>If he could see this now I know that he would be pleased that I have these memories of him and he would get a good laugh out of the picture.</i></b></span></p><p><b style="background-color: #c6dafc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 17.6px; font-style: italic;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU4CEZoKpx7WZ7XdzPMI4ygp5MWFSXsS198odOqkAHKj9oZ3EhCIDf4Eux-tBZAuFkBtz-7Z9DaMQNwCLY9MRnOO3VnLrBBQr2q1dVKFT7zwDyppw4nAkdq9VueYhgJ7cyrVY0zKxGz7w/s474/Kijak%252C+Ella+playing+organ.jpg" style="color: black; display: inline; padding: 1em 0px;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial; font-size: xx-small;">Copyright 2021, Cheryl J. Schulte</b></a></i></b></p>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970548713593980384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5517427187577726662.post-34632074303446224252021-11-25T16:38:00.004-05:002021-12-25T19:50:59.634-05:00From Whence I Came - Emilie Auguste Christina Schluessler<p><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial;"><b><i><u>EMILIE AUGUSTE CHRISTINA SCHLUESSLER</u></i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Emilie Auguste Christina Schluessler (known as Amelia) was born November 25, 1876 in Sterling Township, Macomb County, Michigan to Christian Friedrich-Wilhelm Schluessler and Ernestine Emilie Auguste Werner (aka Emilie Schauer). She would one day become my paternal great-grandmother, mother of my grandmother, <a href="https://2sidesoftheocean.blogspot.com/2009/11/from-whence-i-came-ella-anna-helene.html"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Ella Wellhausen Schulte</span></a>. Amelia was the 5th and final child of Wilhelm and Emilie Schluessler, however, hers was a special birth in that she appeared with a twin brother, Albert.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>She would be the only great-grandparent that I actually knew as she did not pass away until I was 16 and I remember her well.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>On December 3, 1876, Amelia was baptized in the Lutheran faith at St. John's Lutheran Church in Fraser, Michigan.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>I don't have much information about her childhood or school years but I do have a photo of my great-grandmother in a school play. This photo was a tin type and scanned very well. The young man with her in the boat is unknown. Despite knowing my great-grandmother, I naturally knew her as an elderly person and seeing her as a young girl in approximately 1890 was very interesting:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w861BmPcLWI/YaAHGR0gEPI/AAAAAAAAZSs/W8Y9e1F_4L8xFDQCuWR0nU5NeF-2XdYLgCNcBGAsYHQ/s594/Schluessler%252C%2BAmelia%2B%2526%2BUnknown-school%2Bplay.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="236" data-original-width="594" height="127" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w861BmPcLWI/YaAHGR0gEPI/AAAAAAAAZSs/W8Y9e1F_4L8xFDQCuWR0nU5NeF-2XdYLgCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Schluessler%252C%2BAmelia%2B%2526%2BUnknown-school%2Bplay.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>On February 14, 1895, again at St. John's Lutheran Church in Fraser, Michigan, Amelia married George Wellhausen. They had a wedding party of three couples and began their married life in Sterling Township, later moving to Utica, Michigan.</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>George and Amelia had two daughters - Gertrude and my grandmother, Ella, followed 10 years after Ella's birth by a son, George, Jr.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Here is a photo of mother and daughter, Amelia Schluessler Wellhausen and Ella Wellhausen Schulte in approximately 1925:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w9xDTZiwO44/YaAP-TLAIFI/AAAAAAAAZS0/fGW1fJ3RI_k8UeSltJFTUuyuNiuAhOtcQCNcBGAsYHQ/s759/Wellhausen%252C%2BAmelia%2Bwith%2Bdaughter%252C%2BElla%2BSchulte-ca%2B1925.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="759" data-original-width="400" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w9xDTZiwO44/YaAP-TLAIFI/AAAAAAAAZS0/fGW1fJ3RI_k8UeSltJFTUuyuNiuAhOtcQCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Wellhausen%252C%2BAmelia%2Bwith%2Bdaughter%252C%2BElla%2BSchulte-ca%2B1925.jpg" width="169" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>George and Amelia Wellhausen with grandson, Lynwood Wellhausen, in approximately 1935:</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pDlYJXjKbg0/YaAQKR7t9dI/AAAAAAAAZS4/ZxHOokQxxNYluMETI88JGTC6gprZ-VfIACNcBGAsYHQ/s357/Wellhausen%252C%2BGeorge%2B%2526%2BAmelia%2Bwith%2BLynwood.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="357" data-original-width="296" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pDlYJXjKbg0/YaAQKR7t9dI/AAAAAAAAZS4/ZxHOokQxxNYluMETI88JGTC6gprZ-VfIACNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Wellhausen%252C%2BGeorge%2B%2526%2BAmelia%2Bwith%2BLynwood.jpg" width="265" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>While Amelia's husband, George, passed away in 1938 at a young age, she continued to live in Utica and later lived with her daughter, Gertrude in Detroit. She was very social and enjoyed being with friends and family though one of her favorite things to do was to visit the cemetery where her husband was buried, sit there and eat lunch. Hmm, sounds spooky to me but it was known that "great grandma loved to go sit in the cemetery". Too bad she didn't utilize that time in the cemetery for genealogy research which she could have documented and shared with her great-granddaughter!</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Here is a photo of Amelia in approximately 1942 with her three children, left to right, Gertrude Wellhausen Kolberg, George Wellhausen, Jr. and Ella Wellhausen Schulte:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rRqjsK1qGGI/YaAQ1ASSNPI/AAAAAAAAZTE/EjiRCWTBOCsXhQEYsbGbLW7AFJbz8a-JwCNcBGAsYHQ/s915/Wellhausen%252C%2BAmelia%2Bwith%2Badult%2Bchildren-May%2B19-1942.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="915" data-original-width="806" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rRqjsK1qGGI/YaAQ1ASSNPI/AAAAAAAAZTE/EjiRCWTBOCsXhQEYsbGbLW7AFJbz8a-JwCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Wellhausen%252C%2BAmelia%2Bwith%2Badult%2Bchildren-May%2B19-1942.jpg" width="282" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>Here she is again with her children in approximately 1955. This is the great-grandma that I remember:</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P48ESkvwQVc/YaARCUaer0I/AAAAAAAAZTI/ixpz_gf1-acis4i-86hdd14YziQwNfRFwCNcBGAsYHQ/s1678/Wellhausen%252C%2BAmelia%2Bwith%2Badult%2Bchildren-ca%2B1955.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1678" data-original-width="1468" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P48ESkvwQVc/YaARCUaer0I/AAAAAAAAZTI/ixpz_gf1-acis4i-86hdd14YziQwNfRFwCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Wellhausen%252C%2BAmelia%2Bwith%2Badult%2Bchildren-ca%2B1955.jpg" width="280" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>On May 25, 1963 in St. Clair Shores, Michigan, Amelia Wellhausen passed away at the age of 86 and she was buried with her husband, George, in Utica Cemetery, Utica, Michigan.</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>My memories of my great-grandmother are of her babysitting my brother and I at different times and as an always pleasant and smiling person. She had a good long life, financial security and her grandchildren gave her pleasure. One could not ask for more. </i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Today I am thinking of her on this 145th anniversary of her birth.</i></b></span></p><p><b style="background-color: #c6dafc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 17.6px; font-style: italic;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU4CEZoKpx7WZ7XdzPMI4ygp5MWFSXsS198odOqkAHKj9oZ3EhCIDf4Eux-tBZAuFkBtz-7Z9DaMQNwCLY9MRnOO3VnLrBBQr2q1dVKFT7zwDyppw4nAkdq9VueYhgJ7cyrVY0zKxGz7w/s474/Kijak%252C+Ella+playing+organ.jpg" style="color: black; display: inline; padding: 1em 0px;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial; font-size: xx-small;">Copyright 2021, Cheryl J. Schulte</b></a></i></b></p>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970548713593980384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5517427187577726662.post-47460424289171641362021-11-24T15:31:00.003-05:002021-12-25T19:50:42.655-05:00From Whence I Came - August Gottlieb Kolberg<p><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial;"><b><i><u>AUGUST GOTTLIEB KOLBERG</u></i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>My maternal great-grandfather, August Gottlieb Colberg (Kolberg) was born on November 24, 1854 in Klein Tuchen, Kreis Bütow, Pommern, Germany. He was christened the following day, November 25, 1854, at the Evangelical Church in Groß Tuchen, Kreis Bütow, Pommern. His sponsors were listed as (1) August Colberg (likely the brother of his father), (2) August Goll, (3) Helene Litwinke.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>It should be noted that at this time, in 2021, the former Evangelical Church in Groß Tuchen, Pommern, Germany is now a Roman Catholic Church in the renamed village of Tuchomie, Poland. This explains why the birth/baptismal certificate I received is in a Polish format though the Catholic Church in Tuchomie does have the original churchbooks from when the area was a part of Germany.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ynMfi91yT-U/YZ_ztvvz9nI/AAAAAAAAZR8/4K1pCehp1zkl8fsu0CdFwBQaBUzLJR9aQCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Kolberg%252C%2BAugust%2Bbirth%2Bcertificate.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1439" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ynMfi91yT-U/YZ_ztvvz9nI/AAAAAAAAZR8/4K1pCehp1zkl8fsu0CdFwBQaBUzLJR9aQCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Kolberg%252C%2BAugust%2Bbirth%2Bcertificate.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>August was the third son of Friedrich Wilhelm Colberg, Sr. and Henriette Amalie Kautz of Klein Tuchen. This couple would eventually have 12 children with 11 sons and 1 daughter. Four sons and the one daughter died in childhood with 7 sons living to adulthood. These 7 sons were Friedrich-Wilhelm, Jr., August, Heinrich, Johann, Otto, Paul and Ferdinand Colberg/Kolberg (surname is shown with either spelling in the early churchbooks).</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>In 2008 when I visited the descendants of brother, Johann Colberg, in Berlin I was able to see Johann's journal in which he documented important dates of his parents and brothers. Here is August's entry, written by his brother, Johann showing that August was born on November 24, 1854 and that he later went to "Amerika":</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAq-75ObLrbanKcHLyy8T70e7sff6RRAeNrBDF1fPTWGhZpdagbPdImAGvfrGQ2N3rEsDaA3LhUVnSBv5O_m0Z8oHupTJdmOqnKw1yAdcd6uTZ9TLc3jeJaUNqooKy92pWq14RVqJE7dk/s2048/August+Colberg+birth.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1497" data-original-width="2048" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAq-75ObLrbanKcHLyy8T70e7sff6RRAeNrBDF1fPTWGhZpdagbPdImAGvfrGQ2N3rEsDaA3LhUVnSBv5O_m0Z8oHupTJdmOqnKw1yAdcd6uTZ9TLc3jeJaUNqooKy92pWq14RVqJE7dk/s320/August+Colberg+birth.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>On October 4, 1878 in Groß Tuchen, August was married to <a href="https://2sidesoftheocean.blogspot.com/2010/07/from-whence-i-came-bertha-kramp.html"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Bertha Kramp</span></a> at the above named Evangelical Church:</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-LUJFjh9MY8H3ow_k5nF1XcfUUsFDR2oPA2ogchtMA1JtjH_d9IvrJ-qKfrhSGqBoE2t5Mh71NePMDYXYXLNfGsPBF9uGapRhqXRFurAM8SZvyt-kBm-eNgpPzIXoD8V8B9ICNhcSx5g/s480/Gross+Tuchen+Evangelical+Church2006-4.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="480" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-LUJFjh9MY8H3ow_k5nF1XcfUUsFDR2oPA2ogchtMA1JtjH_d9IvrJ-qKfrhSGqBoE2t5Mh71NePMDYXYXLNfGsPBF9uGapRhqXRFurAM8SZvyt-kBm-eNgpPzIXoD8V8B9ICNhcSx5g/s320/Gross+Tuchen+Evangelical+Church2006-4.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>They had at least three children while still living in Germany with two of the children dying in infancy.</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>August, Bertha and their three year old daughter, Hedwig, immigrated to America on the ship Lessing arriving at the port of Castle Garden in New York on November 28, 1883. They had traveled from the port of Hamburg in Germany, on to the port of Havre in France and then on to the US. Their name was spelled "Colberg" on the ship passenger list. Bertha's sister, Emilie Kramp, and Emilie's future husband, Friedrich Skibbe, also traveled with them on the same ship. Upon arriving in New York, they traveled on to Lincoln Township in Berrien County, Michigan to join August's younger brother, Heinrich, who had arrived a few years earlier.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Over the course of their years in the US, August and Bertha had a total of 6 more known children with one son dying in infancy. Times were hard, farming did not produce much income but the family still grew. Here is a photo of August and Bertha with their oldest daughter, Hedwig, sitting and their daughter, Amelia, standing:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jtDIib0tj94/YZ_2ahuh5TI/AAAAAAAAZSU/G0JXIL9tWB0fT6qFptlLWlcq1E9XvQthgCNcBGAsYHQ/s1204/Kolberg%252C%2BAugust%2Band%2BBertha%2BKramp%2Bwith%2BHedwig%2Band%2BAmelia%2BKolberg%252C%2BSt.%2BJoseph%252C%2BMichigan%252C%2Bca%2B1889.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1204" data-original-width="793" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jtDIib0tj94/YZ_2ahuh5TI/AAAAAAAAZSU/G0JXIL9tWB0fT6qFptlLWlcq1E9XvQthgCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Kolberg%252C%2BAugust%2Band%2BBertha%2BKramp%2Bwith%2BHedwig%2Band%2BAmelia%2BKolberg%252C%2BSt.%2BJoseph%252C%2BMichigan%252C%2Bca%2B1889.jpg" width="211" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>In 1903, August owned 17 acres of land in Lincoln Township according to a plat book in the St. Joseph Public Library in St. Joseph, Michigan. The farm, home and property were located on Cleveland Avenue between what is now Rockey Weed and Linco Roads in Lincoln Township (Stevensville). I have searched for this property and located it by going out Cleveland Avenue, towards the town of Baroda, and found the property on the left side of Cleveland Avenue, the third farm before Linco Road.</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>By 1917, August was a laborer and tenant farmer with a house and lot on St. Joseph Avenue in Stevensville.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Besides farming, August was a cabinetmaker and he made such items as coffins.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>While I don't have much definitive information on his life, the facts that I do have don't display a very happy lifestyle for August and Bertha. While August and his four brothers all became farmers in Berrien County, August's farm was probably the least productive. His wife, Bertha, had to supplement the income by picking berries on farms of the other brothers and then selling them for additional income. It also did not help that August had a propensity for alcohol and his wife, Bertha, certainly did not have a happy life.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Bertha Kolberg passed away first on February 26, 1915 and, interestingly, each of the 5 Kolberg brothers in the US lost their wives at early ages. It would appear that the hard work of farming alongside their husbands, coupled with the enormous number of children that they had, made the lives of the Kolberg spouses difficult and short.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>In later years, August lived with his daughter, Amelia Mielke, and her family in Stevensville, Michigan</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb2zpNk089h5gVDNPII3WN9g6YcC-r_1ZSWNyciSWvkdjGAbXqVU4Ojh4VAFm650cql-OMpuruu5B8GH1HgnZ76Ex3ZPJbvb7ESaXjIwXb-9Ra_i8-nhcKLUns7Fr4BWFh3TyEiui7LHE/s503/Kolberg%252C+August.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="503" data-original-width="273" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb2zpNk089h5gVDNPII3WN9g6YcC-r_1ZSWNyciSWvkdjGAbXqVU4Ojh4VAFm650cql-OMpuruu5B8GH1HgnZ76Ex3ZPJbvb7ESaXjIwXb-9Ra_i8-nhcKLUns7Fr4BWFh3TyEiui7LHE/s320/Kolberg%252C+August.jpg" width="174" /></a></b></span></div><b style="font-family: arial;"><i><p><b><i>until his death on April 24, 1920 in Stevensville. He and Bertha are buried in City Cemetery in St. Joseph, Michigan.</i></b></p></i></b><p></p><p><b style="font-family: arial;"></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2GmZa-cB9OE/YZ_4F6C_tBI/AAAAAAAAZSg/G6B-soQOz64FbdRvPhX5amddeRwfbsargCNcBGAsYHQ/s1705/Kolberg%252C%2BAugust%2B%2526%2BBertha%2Bgravestone.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1204" data-original-width="1705" height="226" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2GmZa-cB9OE/YZ_4F6C_tBI/AAAAAAAAZSg/G6B-soQOz64FbdRvPhX5amddeRwfbsargCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Kolberg%252C%2BAugust%2B%2526%2BBertha%2Bgravestone.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></div><b style="font-family: arial;"><br /><i>When I was growing up, my grandmother, <a href="https://2sidesoftheocean.blogspot.com/2010/08/from-whence-i-came-ella-emma-louise.html"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Ella Kolberg Kijak</span></a>, never shared any information with me on either of her parents. While she was the baby of their family and was undoubtedly special to her mother, it just was something she never discussed. I only have the two above photos of August and only the one of Bertha but I am pleased to have what items I do possess and to have the limited knowledge of my great-grandfather that has been shared with me.</i></b><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Today I am thinking of him on this 167th anniversary of his birth.<br /></i></b></span><p></p><p><b style="background-color: #c6dafc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 17.6px; font-style: italic;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU4CEZoKpx7WZ7XdzPMI4ygp5MWFSXsS198odOqkAHKj9oZ3EhCIDf4Eux-tBZAuFkBtz-7Z9DaMQNwCLY9MRnOO3VnLrBBQr2q1dVKFT7zwDyppw4nAkdq9VueYhgJ7cyrVY0zKxGz7w/s474/Kijak%252C+Ella+playing+organ.jpg" style="color: black; display: inline; padding: 1em 0px;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial; font-size: xx-small;">Copyright 2021, Cheryl J. Schulte</b></a></i></b></p></div>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970548713593980384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5517427187577726662.post-29054260259536098172021-11-22T22:22:00.067-05:002021-12-19T22:39:43.680-05:0052 Ancestors in 52 Weeks - Week 47 "Thankful"<p><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial;"><b><i><u>THANKSGIVING PHOTO MEMORIES</u></i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>When thinking of Thanksgivings in the past I remember all the holiday celebrations with my paternal family. It became tradition that each Thanksgiving my father's family would gather at my paternal grandparent's home to celebrate. The group would include my grandparents, my father's brother and his family, his sister and her family and my grandmother's brother and his family. It was an every year occurrence and something we looked forward to.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>In going through some old photos I came across seven different photos of myself as an infant at the Thanksgiving celebration in 1948 when I was just 2 months old and the Thanksgiving celebration in 1949 when I was 14 months old. </i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Here are some of those photos with the various members of my father's family: </i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>1948:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>My mother, Eloris Kijak Schulte, with me:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgadiHcPnKGCP5hR-JJWIpVxndvixkGYHSI_tlP4tDGJaUILvEYZ-xj1AOwjron97oNQ7z5UsFFTMAbGBMiq6a_Q14zORzYI4dsevyb0M4yXkjEbBXuHSDvAFZHUTxh0NZO-fcgD3s8YPCahACRKT5ZgPdSIT338yfZhaDK5E7dX-H4HOhrvbN2b5PBUA=s1612" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1584" data-original-width="1612" height="314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgadiHcPnKGCP5hR-JJWIpVxndvixkGYHSI_tlP4tDGJaUILvEYZ-xj1AOwjron97oNQ7z5UsFFTMAbGBMiq6a_Q14zORzYI4dsevyb0M4yXkjEbBXuHSDvAFZHUTxh0NZO-fcgD3s8YPCahACRKT5ZgPdSIT338yfZhaDK5E7dX-H4HOhrvbN2b5PBUA=s320" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><b><i>My father, Mylen Schulte, with me:</i></b></b></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjkEn4ln2Kyg7t1FUR6v7NItAmUkYbI87179satzClk7WOk3yngPHnG7FsQ8Nn_FMWkpJqULj4w5oK6JytlmASYU_X7Vod7hbTM0fds-myrQHlmkJTWU-u_7EK6qO9Ja-qiTe-4-6mqnKfmye5rfD7uT40hOUrgeDxRTUmNri-BnGGD7PsGn2tfqh13eA=s1802" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1716" data-original-width="1802" height="305" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjkEn4ln2Kyg7t1FUR6v7NItAmUkYbI87179satzClk7WOk3yngPHnG7FsQ8Nn_FMWkpJqULj4w5oK6JytlmASYU_X7Vod7hbTM0fds-myrQHlmkJTWU-u_7EK6qO9Ja-qiTe-4-6mqnKfmye5rfD7uT40hOUrgeDxRTUmNri-BnGGD7PsGn2tfqh13eA=s320" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><b><i>My uncle/godfather, Melbourne Schulte, with me:</i></b></b></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhcYIY68Fu-tc-z3YAkXUKy6jURwghCjcFUAU8N0KJ2EuMHC2Af8Op8Qisq6Mrhg3sC2aG3XCg1FySv1sKkCtixSwL1KOQSL-GdiCRojYzcmSPS6DhFSEQdnBB8m9fUay04yl4n_jVoCRwaxRfxD6VBlKSD4mvIUKS2tOzIlZbwdZZb5tMq_60I63sLeA=s1802" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1716" data-original-width="1802" height="305" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhcYIY68Fu-tc-z3YAkXUKy6jURwghCjcFUAU8N0KJ2EuMHC2Af8Op8Qisq6Mrhg3sC2aG3XCg1FySv1sKkCtixSwL1KOQSL-GdiCRojYzcmSPS6DhFSEQdnBB8m9fUay04yl4n_jVoCRwaxRfxD6VBlKSD4mvIUKS2tOzIlZbwdZZb5tMq_60I63sLeA=s320" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>My grandfather, Elmer Schulte, with me:</i></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgc0P9oWIDCfLivWBlNThVWznVNDt-iWRtd8pyuInu18DECXJ6RMEWInz7h-p4HG41YTGItmlqBKQzgOa3KzMIMZmfoOP0TzEA7G64D_oE_P2f3vQzCHBe8FIjIvaxfGpG-1iWXBp8QfdUyi05wM7k7FMLcVgSvIbNawuiUZn4pXapyWMnCtF4E2tsLkg=s1670" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1403" data-original-width="1670" height="269" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgc0P9oWIDCfLivWBlNThVWznVNDt-iWRtd8pyuInu18DECXJ6RMEWInz7h-p4HG41YTGItmlqBKQzgOa3KzMIMZmfoOP0TzEA7G64D_oE_P2f3vQzCHBe8FIjIvaxfGpG-1iWXBp8QfdUyi05wM7k7FMLcVgSvIbNawuiUZn4pXapyWMnCtF4E2tsLkg=s320" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>1949:</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>My grandmother, Ella Wellhausen Schulte, with me:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgZ-Bk7rSeoEGjz0C-itIIl1rpbZcKEduVlVOspHfTYeEppIDQc5-hKXpVfTggqh9nZcI-J8-1Ok-VQW_8gELHrTfYVv2jlTtIr9iQ6A-HWqbh1z4HHVNJZZRYeXkpT7_jCMDHscf9paG4INk8W4plM_QoOiLSrxbpBrAKjxJFwh9PFoed86qrg950ljg=s1612" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1584" data-original-width="1612" height="314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgZ-Bk7rSeoEGjz0C-itIIl1rpbZcKEduVlVOspHfTYeEppIDQc5-hKXpVfTggqh9nZcI-J8-1Ok-VQW_8gELHrTfYVv2jlTtIr9iQ6A-HWqbh1z4HHVNJZZRYeXkpT7_jCMDHscf9paG4INk8W4plM_QoOiLSrxbpBrAKjxJFwh9PFoed86qrg950ljg=s320" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>My grandparents, Elmer and Ella (Wellhausen) Schulte, with me:</i></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiAtW20qMXj35aKjTgpkBFBGXOYvukmmcXi2Mz9W3S2jj0BHHIDPEP3tz-GT19EHGNs29lFNCb691Z1mHHz8l6mmw6SzrsLxE-50HnLoz56tSrYW8MefzFTkpXrcBs4JXmMPibqrhbMEWDu2BV2mlrRlvHp8H5pL2IC2vv_3DFE-5gciZzUwSrkn0UfzQ=s1612" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1584" data-original-width="1612" height="314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiAtW20qMXj35aKjTgpkBFBGXOYvukmmcXi2Mz9W3S2jj0BHHIDPEP3tz-GT19EHGNs29lFNCb691Z1mHHz8l6mmw6SzrsLxE-50HnLoz56tSrYW8MefzFTkpXrcBs4JXmMPibqrhbMEWDu2BV2mlrRlvHp8H5pL2IC2vv_3DFE-5gciZzUwSrkn0UfzQ=s320" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><b><i>My aunt, Virginia (Reske) Schulte, with me:</i></b></b></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhzqCemhnI4bYrv0HdnJhlohHMxYKxlKlnBxWDq-0hvQ9fzWWOv8OqECCRNN312rxQWUWIs7D0aj-1Rgs6CnScItiVAFCy8xXZWOhDqHpQA0e0EPZV6jfvJkt-HdLBTBUkoNsd6XLjklXNocqgeiXv5n9a44Wi_u9XNhLpg59FfMfL8NbwRY4cj_LA7vw=s1612" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1584" data-original-width="1612" height="314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhzqCemhnI4bYrv0HdnJhlohHMxYKxlKlnBxWDq-0hvQ9fzWWOv8OqECCRNN312rxQWUWIs7D0aj-1Rgs6CnScItiVAFCy8xXZWOhDqHpQA0e0EPZV6jfvJkt-HdLBTBUkoNsd6XLjklXNocqgeiXv5n9a44Wi_u9XNhLpg59FfMfL8NbwRY4cj_LA7vw=s320" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i><p><b><i>My parents had lost their first child, Kathy, in 1947 at just 6 weeks old, and I was born 11 months later. I was to be the only niece and granddaughter in my grandparent's family and obviously photos were a big thing at that time. </i></b></p><p><b><i>I am pleased that my connection with my grandparents and my aunt and uncle remained for their entire lives and I think of them often, not just at Thanksgiving but at all other times as well.</i></b></p><p><b style="background-color: #c6dafc; font-size: 17.6px;"><b style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU4CEZoKpx7WZ7XdzPMI4ygp5MWFSXsS198odOqkAHKj9oZ3EhCIDf4Eux-tBZAuFkBtz-7Z9DaMQNwCLY9MRnOO3VnLrBBQr2q1dVKFT7zwDyppw4nAkdq9VueYhgJ7cyrVY0zKxGz7w/s474/Kijak%252C+Ella+playing+organ.jpg" style="color: black; display: inline; padding: 1em 0px;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial; font-size: xx-small;">Copyright 2021, Cheryl J. Schulte</b></a></i></b></b></p></i></b></span><p></p>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970548713593980384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5517427187577726662.post-83005816882393085082021-11-15T18:34:00.003-05:002021-12-25T19:50:20.355-05:00From Whence I Came - Ella Anna Helene Wellhausen<p><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial;"><b><i><u>ELLA ANNA HELENE WELLHAUSEN</u></i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Ella Anna Helene Wellhausen was my paternal grandmother, born on November 15, 1896 in Detroit, Michigan to George Wellhausen and <a href="https://2sidesoftheocean.blogspot.com/2010/11/from-whence-i-came-emilie-auguste.html"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Amelia Schluessler</span></a>. She was their second daughter and a son followed 10 years later. While the family had originally lived in Sterling Township in Macomb County, Michigan where their first daughter was born, they had moved temporarily to Detroit to live with Amelia's sister and that is where my grandmother was born.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Interestingly, I don't know if my grandmother was even aware of being born in Detroit. She always swore to me that she was born in Sterling Township and was baptized at St. John's Lutheran Church in Fraser, Michigan. She sent me on a good number of wild goose chases when I began my genealogy research. Quite by accident while researching my Feucht family and THEIR connection with Trinity Lutheran Church in Detroit, I came upon the baptismal record of my grandmother showing she was indeed born in Detroit and baptized there as well. When I informed her of this she said she was never aware of it. She told me that she could remember her mother speaking of the brief time the family had lived in Detroit with her mother's sister but she didn't realize that she was actually born there as well.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>As young girls Ella and her sister, Gertrude, took part in a dancing competition and were named the "Dancing Darlings of Macomb County". They certainly did look darling and their sisterly relationship lasted for Gertrude's entire life with Ella assuming caregiver duties when sister Gertrude's health declined:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0E2HvnENccA/YZLwGw0yI9I/AAAAAAAAZN8/bpxLUuFmOoYl1KVDTfkNL3rCzujLHTeiwCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Wellhausen%252C%2BGertrude%2B%2526%2BElla%252C%2Bca%2B1900.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1491" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0E2HvnENccA/YZLwGw0yI9I/AAAAAAAAZN8/bpxLUuFmOoYl1KVDTfkNL3rCzujLHTeiwCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Wellhausen%252C%2BGertrude%2B%2526%2BElla%252C%2Bca%2B1900.jpg" width="233" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>Ella did grow up in Sterling Township with her older sister and younger brother. She attended St. John's Lutheran Church where she was confirmed but I have no idea where she actually went to school. Here she is on her confirmation day:</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMCMrpzw241Ijw07NRyooBDySFKAVFtA62btm2zosA9jtEUsRFCE7kMjaboT6eGPPnnlwLxmJune9cHg_7CMMevueqEvyYw4bWOIlB2xW0HtwB-hPn52a2H-2s9WMRCB5XkX_2s5kmZDw/s2048/Wellhausen%252C+Ella+confirmation.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1353" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMCMrpzw241Ijw07NRyooBDySFKAVFtA62btm2zosA9jtEUsRFCE7kMjaboT6eGPPnnlwLxmJune9cHg_7CMMevueqEvyYw4bWOIlB2xW0HtwB-hPn52a2H-2s9WMRCB5XkX_2s5kmZDw/s320/Wellhausen%252C+Ella+confirmation.jpg" width="211" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i><br /></i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>I also do not know </i></b></span><b style="font-family: arial;"><i>how she met my grandfather, <a href="http://2sidesoftheocean.blogspot.com/2010/08/from-whence-i-came-elmer-meyer-schulte.html"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Elmer Schulte</span></a>. I am guessing that they met through her aunt, Helena Schluessler Herz, whose sons were friends of Elmer but I don't know that for certain.</i></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Ella and Elmer were married on Christmas Eve, 1917 in Waco, Texas before my grandfather shipped out to the war in Europe. Here is a wedding photo of Elmer and Ella:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy44VabjSItAUXUeK-8IKd89KAeokrOJNWhBnJSK3Nm08f4k8cHOsrw4KxTQti060hg4gXcZLYomSpgj7XOeYHtiY55cmDCJE00yO2n9j61N05IGcyd2btj74OCie-P8Cn_auXi-KYE18/s1234/Schulte%252C+Elmer+%2526+Ella+Wellhausen%252C+marriage+photo%252C+December+24%252C+1917.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1234" data-original-width="883" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy44VabjSItAUXUeK-8IKd89KAeokrOJNWhBnJSK3Nm08f4k8cHOsrw4KxTQti060hg4gXcZLYomSpgj7XOeYHtiY55cmDCJE00yO2n9j61N05IGcyd2btj74OCie-P8Cn_auXi-KYE18/s320/Schulte%252C+Elmer+%2526+Ella+Wellhausen%252C+marriage+photo%252C+December+24%252C+1917.jpg" width="229" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>When Elmer returned from WWI, several years later, they began their family life in Detroit. Together they had three children - sons, Melbourne and Mylen (my father) and daughter, Marilyn. Their life was rather affluent. Both my grandparents inherited money from their parents and my grandmother never had to work outside her home. Here are Elmer and Ella with their oldest son, Melbourne, ca 1922:</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTCuMeCAK2D9_APrrAMHjWPej5124uPC_3VhQ2iQOCNWGr9QJ-4s_HJMb8lrK8NGd5nTbG6s_lBliajtkzoPdYfeQLpeXUBUsxjextBykpNQBwcdXF4cPLyWI1httNc5oV_SQWvnuSSAo/s1224/Schulte%252C+Elmer%252C+Ella+%2526+Melbourne.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="904" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTCuMeCAK2D9_APrrAMHjWPej5124uPC_3VhQ2iQOCNWGr9QJ-4s_HJMb8lrK8NGd5nTbG6s_lBliajtkzoPdYfeQLpeXUBUsxjextBykpNQBwcdXF4cPLyWI1httNc5oV_SQWvnuSSAo/s320/Schulte%252C+Elmer%252C+Ella+%2526+Melbourne.jpg" width="236" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>Ella raised her children, belonged to several clubs and activities with other women friends and socialized with family frequently. She and Elmer had several very nice homes in various areas of Detroit.</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Here is a photo of Elmer, Mylen and Ella Schulte ca 1942 in Detroit:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgknO5AJV18j8ERjuhaPnCGKkkbQoCT33duWpITyvUb-zTOzfSeNHQ301KAAuzmhzFqUY1uRWynLGvKhP4fcaLkXTFI1AwVNs2e-defUtFQPw0Zc5IAVwUpsjIg6nnupLGvJ0V4TVCiakU/s700/Schulte%252C+Elmer%252C+Mylen+%2526+Ella%252C+ca+1942.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="433" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgknO5AJV18j8ERjuhaPnCGKkkbQoCT33duWpITyvUb-zTOzfSeNHQ301KAAuzmhzFqUY1uRWynLGvKhP4fcaLkXTFI1AwVNs2e-defUtFQPw0Zc5IAVwUpsjIg6nnupLGvJ0V4TVCiakU/s320/Schulte%252C+Elmer%252C+Mylen+%2526+Ella%252C+ca+1942.jpg" width="198" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>Another photo of Elmer and Ella with their oldest son, Melbourne, and daughter, Marilyn, ca 1942 at Marilyn's confirmation in Detroit:</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga42zDU2FxY-h88u4Z4YV3sRfLslXNss97L1bBmoS4t-ZsSUO1P-QirUBVjkRtBzkpyO3nNPLQhleA9OFbSidi6NVSNle-vpWnwEug-toNqu8_-HdUL26PbQofytzmS6aVLePQKe-KR9Q/s1063/Schulte%252C+Elmer%252C+Marilyn%252C+Melbourne+%2526+Ella%252C+ca+1942.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="631" data-original-width="1063" height="190" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga42zDU2FxY-h88u4Z4YV3sRfLslXNss97L1bBmoS4t-ZsSUO1P-QirUBVjkRtBzkpyO3nNPLQhleA9OFbSidi6NVSNle-vpWnwEug-toNqu8_-HdUL26PbQofytzmS6aVLePQKe-KR9Q/s320/Schulte%252C+Elmer%252C+Marilyn%252C+Melbourne+%2526+Ella%252C+ca+1942.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>In later years they built a home on Springer Avenue in what was East Detroit, Michigan and is now called Eastpointe. The home is still standing today in the same pristine condition I remember it though it was unusually designed in that the living room faced the backyard with a large picture window overlooking a long balcony:</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLWq9LcPG0V9ewsHVkGNjwREasxj973EWs6FOvnvNYn4WVTcKeoI4Vc3dRIyYOJFPvAkEodTA22-oCh15m6pAkp3rdcsn0Xy8TtqUT_sno51avgxLbzJqfUtV9nEHfaTMnah5WCg6OUZE/s2048/Schulte%252C+Elmer+%2526+Ella+home+at+17046+Sprenger%252C+Eastpointe%252C+MI%252C+07-16-11.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLWq9LcPG0V9ewsHVkGNjwREasxj973EWs6FOvnvNYn4WVTcKeoI4Vc3dRIyYOJFPvAkEodTA22-oCh15m6pAkp3rdcsn0Xy8TtqUT_sno51avgxLbzJqfUtV9nEHfaTMnah5WCg6OUZE/s320/Schulte%252C+Elmer+%2526+Ella+home+at+17046+Sprenger%252C+Eastpointe%252C+MI%252C+07-16-11.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>When Ella's sister, Gertrude, needed assistance due to failing health, Ella and Elmer moved back to Detroit to Gertrude's home on Engleside Drive. While living there my grandparents celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary on December 24, 1967:</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4wwKfuvYugs/YZL0KWRQpVI/AAAAAAAAZO0/JhyjmU0KQwEQpfx5mZjlhFEmkG44zTp9ACNcBGAsYHQ/s1675/Schulte%252C%2BElmer%2B%2526%2BElla%2B50th%2Banniversary%2B1967.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1675" height="287" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4wwKfuvYugs/YZL0KWRQpVI/AAAAAAAAZO0/JhyjmU0KQwEQpfx5mZjlhFEmkG44zTp9ACNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Schulte%252C%2BElmer%2B%2526%2BElla%2B50th%2Banniversary%2B1967.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WjwfsP4fvIA/YZL0P0Sf_RI/AAAAAAAAZO4/QUEiPvXHHjAWCqhxIEYypZI-eE2jzj8CgCNcBGAsYHQ/s401/Schulte%252C%2BElmer%2B%2526%2BElla%2B12-24-67.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="347" data-original-width="401" height="277" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WjwfsP4fvIA/YZL0P0Sf_RI/AAAAAAAAZO4/QUEiPvXHHjAWCqhxIEYypZI-eE2jzj8CgCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Schulte%252C%2BElmer%2B%2526%2BElla%2B12-24-67.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><i>They were living in Detroit when my grandfather passed away on January 21, 1968. Following his death my grandmother continued to care for her sister until Gertrude had to be placed in a nursing facility. At this time my grandmother rekindled a childhood relationship with a man who had also lost his wife. Within a few years of my grandfather's death, my grandmother remarried to Robert Bloss who she had known since they were 5 year old children. Their marriage was short lived as Robert was not in the best of health and he passed away soon after their marriage.</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Ella continued her independent life in several apartments after the death of Robert. She maintained her own home, did her own cooking and cleaning and continued her activities with family and friends. She lived independently until the age of 90 when her fading memory forced her to enter a nursing home. On December 28, 1989, at the age of 93, my grandmother passed away and she is buried with my grandfather in Gethsemane Cemetery in Detroit. Both her sister, Gertrude, and her much younger brother, George, had predeceased her.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>I was fortunate to have known all four of my grandparents. My grandmother, Ella Schulte, I knew the best as I grew up in East Detroit and she and my grandfather lived there as well. While she was a good Christian person she was not what I would characterize as a loving grandmother. I really think that children annoyed her. She didn't like having children in her home and she complained royally about crumbs or disarray. My grandfather, on the other hand, was a wonderful loving person. Memories of my grandmother are many but they are memories more of a gruff, unsmiling person who my grandfather tried at all times to soften up. I can remember the times he would grab her in a hug and kiss her only to have her gruffly push him away. It was something he never minded and his humor and good nature lasted his whole life. My grandmother's aloof, gruff ways continued through her entire life as well.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>The one thing that she did do for me, though, was to initiate my love for genealogy. I can remember in 1977 that she showed me an onyx ring with a small diamond in the center. She told me that she had worn a diamond necklace on her wedding day in 1917 and that necklace had 3 diamonds in it. Over the years the necklace broke and she had the 3 diamonds set in 3 different black onyx rings. </i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>This conversation led to questions from me about her childhood, extended family,<span> </span>etc. and I was off and running on research. I was fortunate that she remembered not only her parents but her grandparents and great grandparents as well and her memory was sharp. She did share much information with me over the years though she tempered it with quite a bit of false information that had me running down false leads. Her comments at those times were "you don't need to know the truth" or "just let sleeping dogs lie". Luckily I was able to discern the truth from the fiction and when confronted with my facts she would confirm my data. I do have to give her the credit for my love of genealogy and she did give me all my grandfather's war medals as well as the medals of my great-grandfather. She also gave me funeral home guest books, photos, cemetery deeds and burial records. Initially she told me she was saving all these items for one of her grandsons but as none of them had any interest she did finally allow me to take possession of the memorabilia and I am grateful for that.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>When all is said and done, while she was not a loving, affectionate grandmother, she was a good person and she led a very good life. Her health was good, she had no undue financial problems and she was able to build a life that suited her. </i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Today I am thinking of her on this 125th anniversary of her birth.</i></b></span></p><b style="background-color: #c6dafc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 17.6px; font-style: italic;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU4CEZoKpx7WZ7XdzPMI4ygp5MWFSXsS198odOqkAHKj9oZ3EhCIDf4Eux-tBZAuFkBtz-7Z9DaMQNwCLY9MRnOO3VnLrBBQr2q1dVKFT7zwDyppw4nAkdq9VueYhgJ7cyrVY0zKxGz7w/s474/Kijak%252C+Ella+playing+organ.jpg" style="color: black; display: inline; padding: 1em 0px;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial; font-size: xx-small;">Copyright 2021, Cheryl J. Schulte</b></a></i></b>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970548713593980384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5517427187577726662.post-91036036207666169152021-11-15T17:36:00.003-05:002021-11-15T17:39:53.803-05:0052 Ancestors in 52 Weeks - Week 46 "Birthdays"<p><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial;"><b><i><u>HAPPY 125th BIRTHDAY, GRANDMA</u></i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Today, November 15, 2021, would be my paternal grandmother's 125th birthday. How appropriate that the topic for today's "52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks" challenge is "Birthdays".</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>My paternal grandmother, Ella Anna Helene Wellhausen, had a long and productive life, living to the age of 93. During her lifetime she was photographed 3 different times in 4 generation photos at 3 different stages in her life.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Today for her birthday I will present photos of her as a granddaughter, grandmother and great-grandmother.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Here is Ella Wellhausen Schulte in 1921 holding her oldest son, Melbourne M. Schulte. Sitting next to her is her grandfather, Wilhelm Schluessler, and on the far right is her mother, Amelia Schluessler Wellhausen. This is a special photo of mine as not too many photos exist of her grandfather, Wilhelm:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ewXE76quzhw/YZLbX1YP_TI/AAAAAAAAZNU/1XUG5ejxdvooeDCUzU_86aAVHzXeEtzQwCNcBGAsYHQ/s927/Schluessler%252C%2BWilliam%2B4%2Bgenerations-ca1921.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="650" data-original-width="927" height="224" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ewXE76quzhw/YZLbX1YP_TI/AAAAAAAAZNU/1XUG5ejxdvooeDCUzU_86aAVHzXeEtzQwCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Schluessler%252C%2BWilliam%2B4%2Bgenerations-ca1921.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>In 1948, 27 years later, my grandmother is again pictured in a 4 generation photo this time as the grandmother in the photo. She is on the far left with her mother, Amelia Schluessler Wellhausen, in the center and my mother, Eloris Kijak Schulte, holding me as a 2 month old baby. To make this a "true" 4 generation photo my father should be holding me in the photo instead of my mother as my grandmother and great grandmother are really my father's mother and grandmother. But I can take creative license in my blogging and it is a 4 generation photo in my opinion!</i></b></span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vfofUpmdRA8/YZLb-KkjwLI/AAAAAAAAZNc/TbnIuaxdByQH4sRWfonrCAg0qeL_L-yegCNcBGAsYHQ/s1858/Cheryl%2BSchulte%2B4%2Bgenerations.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1808" data-original-width="1858" height="311" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vfofUpmdRA8/YZLb-KkjwLI/AAAAAAAAZNc/TbnIuaxdByQH4sRWfonrCAg0qeL_L-yegCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Cheryl%2BSchulte%2B4%2Bgenerations.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><i>In 1983, 35 years later, my grandmother again appeared in a 4 generation photo. This time she is the great-grandmother in the photo at the age of 87 with my brother, Jeffrey Schulte, in the center holding his daughter, Diane Schulte, and my father, Mylen Schulte, on the far right:</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7dTknfODkwyMsru5tkWsxaErj8ctUtN-r5KeHYwO83_J2xwi2bgqrakmRzelqKrbUYFUtPyk-7tDQwzuODIrYUMXlLTtH3FdES3CTMi-6oBlFWmnwbR7ItuL7xc26UfZgtV1v0heXyxk/s2048/4+Generations%252C+Ella%252C+Mylen%252C+Jeffrey%252C+Diane%252C+November%252C+1983.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1616" data-original-width="2048" height="253" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7dTknfODkwyMsru5tkWsxaErj8ctUtN-r5KeHYwO83_J2xwi2bgqrakmRzelqKrbUYFUtPyk-7tDQwzuODIrYUMXlLTtH3FdES3CTMi-6oBlFWmnwbR7ItuL7xc26UfZgtV1v0heXyxk/s320/4+Generations%252C+Ella%252C+Mylen%252C+Jeffrey%252C+Diane%252C+November%252C+1983.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>A humorous sideline to this photo is that my father showed this photo to a casual friend who asked him if the woman on the left was his "wife". My father was insulted and remarked "that is my MOTHER". He felt that he must look old enough to be married to the woman who was his mother but perhaps the friend thought his mother looked young enough to be his wife! In any case it was the cause for much laughter in the family.</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>My grandmother was indeed blessed with a long life as evidenced by these 2 photos. The first shows her with her older sister, Gertrude, when she was 3 years old and the second shows her at age 87 holding her great-granddaughter, Diane:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i></i></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-M_DFYilwtdc/YZLgD_O-C-I/AAAAAAAAZNs/bs4idGpcgHIcy5utk0eVFllQrkslJzS9wCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Wellhausen%252C%2BGertrude%2B%2526%2BElla%252C%2Bca%2B1900.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1491" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-M_DFYilwtdc/YZLgD_O-C-I/AAAAAAAAZNs/bs4idGpcgHIcy5utk0eVFllQrkslJzS9wCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Wellhausen%252C%2BGertrude%2B%2526%2BElla%252C%2Bca%2B1900.jpg" width="233" /></a></i></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i><br /> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqzDv4aR_CSuw4Du2wXfxDyll5O3exe-sXAJctPOPxZ_yUHhOMyaJ_IgFnxAgMW4gH2LT0EzT0pp8aie9XmseF1bMx_ioOJOtzessHVWVGVv85OYpoEr9kscTM7zZlBFM9Y-wtOHWNJhs/s2048/Ella+and+Diane%252C+1983.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1524" data-original-width="2048" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqzDv4aR_CSuw4Du2wXfxDyll5O3exe-sXAJctPOPxZ_yUHhOMyaJ_IgFnxAgMW4gH2LT0EzT0pp8aie9XmseF1bMx_ioOJOtzessHVWVGVv85OYpoEr9kscTM7zZlBFM9Y-wtOHWNJhs/s320/Ella+and+Diane%252C+1983.jpg" width="320" /></a></div></i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Happy Birthday, Grandma!</i></b></span></p><p><b style="background-color: #c6dafc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 17.6px; font-style: italic;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU4CEZoKpx7WZ7XdzPMI4ygp5MWFSXsS198odOqkAHKj9oZ3EhCIDf4Eux-tBZAuFkBtz-7Z9DaMQNwCLY9MRnOO3VnLrBBQr2q1dVKFT7zwDyppw4nAkdq9VueYhgJ7cyrVY0zKxGz7w/s474/Kijak%252C+Ella+playing+organ.jpg" style="color: black; display: inline; padding: 1em 0px;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial; font-size: xx-small;">Copyright 2021, Cheryl J. Schulte</b></a></i></b></p>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970548713593980384noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5517427187577726662.post-86009133721213879192021-11-08T15:44:00.084-05:002021-11-15T16:21:48.742-05:0052 Ancestors in 52 Weeks - Week 45 "Stormy Weather"<p><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial;"><b><i><u>WINTER STORMS ALONG LAKE MICHIGAN</u></i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>I was born in St. Joseph, Michigan which sits along the shores of Lake Michigan. On a bright and sunny day it is possible to see across the lake to the skyline of Chicago.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>St. Joseph is a beautiful area and the beaches are fantastic. There is the St. Joseph lighthouse which was once featured on a US postage stamp. St. Joseph and the surrounding areas are a mecca for tourists.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>When I was just a small child my parents and I moved across the state to the suburbs of Detroit where my father worked as a barber. We would return to St. Joseph every Easter and during the summer to visit my maternal grandparents and other relatives. St. Joseph was my special place and as a teen I started dreaming of actually moving back to St. Joe and settling there. </i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Many years were to pass, however, before I did accomplish that long term goal when I did move back and settle in St. Joe in 1997.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>However, on the topic of Stormy Weather I was reminded of one trip we took to St. Joe not for Easter but for Palm Sunday in 1962.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>One of my cousins was being confirmed and since we were close with his family we traveled from Detroit to St. Joe on the Saturday before Palm Sunday. As we always did we would not leave Detroit until my father closed his barber shop at 6 pm on Saturday and we would get on I-94 and some 3 1/2 hours later we would be arriving at my grandparent's home. The weather was cooperative on the drive down and we drove past the beautiful St. Joseph lighthouse which is pictured here:</i></b></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeD5QQ-ri6KmI-uXDcZnR0dyJNBqViGwhMF7RrH3E97nudgM1_dF7c5WEbrWAWEotEjI_gmK6uoxvwAS2Drry3N-h776c-O5CX37FtHcFLQBUZ5wzE1hz06DmJNZon66EVoEkOSAYF5ak/s259/xxx.jpe" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="194" data-original-width="259" height="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeD5QQ-ri6KmI-uXDcZnR0dyJNBqViGwhMF7RrH3E97nudgM1_dF7c5WEbrWAWEotEjI_gmK6uoxvwAS2Drry3N-h776c-O5CX37FtHcFLQBUZ5wzE1hz06DmJNZon66EVoEkOSAYF5ak/s0/xxx.jpe" width="259" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>The confirmation service on Sunday, April 15th was fine and the reception after was enjoyable, however, the weather was changing. As was my father's "rule" we would head back to Detroit no later than 4 pm as he would have to open the barber shop on Monday morning. There would be no exceptions to his travel plans and we set off for home at about 4 pm.</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Then the beautiful spring weather changed into an horrendous ice storm that followed us all the way along I-94 across the state. We saw cars sliding off the highway into ditches, people either driving like maniacs or driving exceptionally slow and my mother tried to convince my father to turn around and go back to her mother's house. Of course, he would not, being the stubborn man he was. </i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Here are some pictures of the St. Joseph lighthouse during an ice storm:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_Wni_jG4bog/YZLNKxVBKPI/AAAAAAAAZNI/502G3DbfOE8hp_eWCLe8BvNe-uBjToN9wCNcBGAsYHQ/s270/x.jpe" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="186" data-original-width="270" height="186" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_Wni_jG4bog/YZLNKxVBKPI/AAAAAAAAZNI/502G3DbfOE8hp_eWCLe8BvNe-uBjToN9wCNcBGAsYHQ/s0/x.jpe" width="270" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMN8kM9i5sesKrAKy7K5AITY3pre42VEKtYXBBbCblInfBkFXc43APDlc-_FejjuCV1gwbt1q4qE2Q7WyWUFtajhQBut8K-b9oFRCgkYWJteutxN5fViOcYcxkniSaeD3vxFpc-PZr2F0/s300/xx.jpe" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="300" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMN8kM9i5sesKrAKy7K5AITY3pre42VEKtYXBBbCblInfBkFXc43APDlc-_FejjuCV1gwbt1q4qE2Q7WyWUFtajhQBut8K-b9oFRCgkYWJteutxN5fViOcYcxkniSaeD3vxFpc-PZr2F0/s0/xx.jpe" width="300" /></a></div><br /></span></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /></b></span></div></blockquote><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>The usual 3 1/2 hour trip took much longer than usual. By the time we reached Ann Arbor my father had had enough of the weather and he pulled off into a rest area where we sat for over an hour waiting for the storm to hopefully ease up. Of course these were the days without cell phones and my grandmother back in St. Joseph was quite worried.</i></b></span></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Around 11 pm - a good 7 hours after leaving St. Joe we did arrive back home. My mother immediately dialed her mom to let her know that the driving was nasty but that we did arrive home safely.</i></b></span></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Here is what the lighthouse looked like the next day after an ice storm.</i></b></span></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RczA_YKq1bQ/YZLKJ1-EsGI/AAAAAAAAZNA/VWns6muMQqAGDQG5Ed9ApSgzHmaKRRtKgCNcBGAsYHQ/s299/xa.jpe" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="299" height="168" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RczA_YKq1bQ/YZLKJ1-EsGI/AAAAAAAAZNA/VWns6muMQqAGDQG5Ed9ApSgzHmaKRRtKgCNcBGAsYHQ/s0/xa.jpe" width="299" /></a></b></span></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>I have driven this route myself many times over the years and have been caught in torrential rainfall, wind and sleet and I admit that I have been known to pull off the highway and wait out the weather. </i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>However, I have not personally experienced the horrors of driving in an ice storm of the magnitude of the one in 1962. In retirement I now have the attitude that if the weather is bad I do not have to venture out of my home at all and I don't.</i></b></span></p><p><b style="background-color: #c6dafc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 17.6px; font-style: italic;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU4CEZoKpx7WZ7XdzPMI4ygp5MWFSXsS198odOqkAHKj9oZ3EhCIDf4Eux-tBZAuFkBtz-7Z9DaMQNwCLY9MRnOO3VnLrBBQr2q1dVKFT7zwDyppw4nAkdq9VueYhgJ7cyrVY0zKxGz7w/s474/Kijak%252C+Ella+playing+organ.jpg" style="color: black; display: inline; padding: 1em 0px;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial; font-size: xx-small;">Copyright 2021, Cheryl J. Schulte</b></a></i></b></p><p><b style="background-color: #c6dafc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 17.6px; font-style: italic;">Photos from Google Images</b></p></b></span><p></p>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970548713593980384noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5517427187577726662.post-23013487979182903712021-11-01T15:05:00.073-04:002021-11-02T15:41:29.959-04:0052 Ancestors in 52 Weeks - Week 44 "Voting"<p><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial;"><b><i><u>GREAT-GRANDPA(s) WERE ELECTED OFFICIALS</u></i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>This week's topic for the "52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks" challenge is "Voting". In reviewing the materials I have on my ancestors I realized that two of my great-grandfathers were elected officials and I decided to write about them.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>My paternal grandmother's father was George William Wellhausen. He was born December 28, 1869 in Detroit, Wayne County, Michigan and passed away on April 8, 1938 in Utica, Macomb County, Michigan. While I missed knowing him by a little over 10 years I learned a lot about him from my grandmother. </i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>During his lifetime George Wellhausen was a farmer and later the owner of a General Store. He was also very civic minded and he was elected Clerk of Utica, Michigan for which he served the term of 1917-1918. In 1920 he ran for Mayor of Utica, Michigan and served the term of 1920-1921.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>I was able to verify my grandmother's information by studying the history of Utica, Michigan but other than his elected offices and years of service nothing else was written about my great-grandfather. </i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>In any case, I find it very admirable that he was willing and able to perform these duties and that he did so with honor.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Here are my great-grandparents, George and Amelia (Schluessler) Wellhausen, with their young grandson, Lynwood Wellhausen, in 1935:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyNCN0cK9R-ImbyjqzCg-EXagQOZ4qEC1FH6xm-8Il2Nbb_i5Hvgz13Zv1kff4UNJl3HPGVkdDpC3MZzdEvIL1Xbl4kN-_kWs3RAsBgZ2wdwhPQgNPxmTaK6NuZdK3xpy_TUr1cgtlDZs/s357/Wellhausen%252C+George+%2526+Amelia+with+Lynwood.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="357" data-original-width="296" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyNCN0cK9R-ImbyjqzCg-EXagQOZ4qEC1FH6xm-8Il2Nbb_i5Hvgz13Zv1kff4UNJl3HPGVkdDpC3MZzdEvIL1Xbl4kN-_kWs3RAsBgZ2wdwhPQgNPxmTaK6NuZdK3xpy_TUr1cgtlDZs/s320/Wellhausen%252C+George+%2526+Amelia+with+Lynwood.jpg" width="265" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /></b></span><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Another great-grandfather on my paternal side was also an elected official. My paternal grandfather's father was Rudolph Myer Schulte. He was born October 24, 1869 in Beckum, Westfalen, Preußen, Germany and he passed away on April 1, 1940 in Detroit. I did not know him either as he passed away a little over 8 years before I was born. However, my grandfather, my father and my uncle regaled me with stories of Rudolph and I learned what an outstanding person he was.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Rudolph came to America at the age of 3 years with his parents and they settled in Detroit. He served in the US Navy during the Spanish American War and was a Detroit fireman before and after the war. In later years he was an insurance salesman.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>However, between his time as a fireman and his career as an insurance salesman he served as a Wayne County Deputy Sheriff and I have his badge along with many of his Spanish American War medals. Here is Rudolph's badge as a Wayne County Deputy Sheriff:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8mvjp-oIQ34/YYGQa97-03I/AAAAAAAAZIk/DREDQQ86zf4VmyZUrvk86vMSQN5srZ3UgCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Schulte%252C%2BRudolph%252C%2Bdeputy%2Bsheriff%2Bbadge.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1849" data-original-width="2048" height="289" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8mvjp-oIQ34/YYGQa97-03I/AAAAAAAAZIk/DREDQQ86zf4VmyZUrvk86vMSQN5srZ3UgCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Schulte%252C%2BRudolph%252C%2Bdeputy%2Bsheriff%2Bbadge.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>Here is a photo of my great-grandfather, Rudolph Schulte, along with my above mentioned great-grandmother, Amelia Schluessler Wellhausen, with their shared granddaughter, Marilyn Schulte, in 1928:</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uJC64091zqM/YYGQ73zovlI/AAAAAAAAZIs/NHnQrc40K5MGCSGnZFt-XsNaqdu_HoMtACNcBGAsYHQ/s427/Schulte%252C%2BRudolph%252C%2BMarilyn%252C%2BAmelia%2BWellhausen.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="427" data-original-width="322" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uJC64091zqM/YYGQ73zovlI/AAAAAAAAZIs/NHnQrc40K5MGCSGnZFt-XsNaqdu_HoMtACNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Schulte%252C%2BRudolph%252C%2BMarilyn%252C%2BAmelia%2BWellhausen.jpg" width="241" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div>I find it interesting that both of the grandfathers of my own father were elected officials but my father never mentioned any of that to me nor did my uncle. Perhaps they were unaware of the civic minded nature of their grandfathers but I was pleased that my grandmother did share the information with me. This just adds another layer to the character of both these great-grandfathers of mine.</i></b></span><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b style="background-color: #c6dafc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 17.6px; font-style: italic;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU4CEZoKpx7WZ7XdzPMI4ygp5MWFSXsS198odOqkAHKj9oZ3EhCIDf4Eux-tBZAuFkBtz-7Z9DaMQNwCLY9MRnOO3VnLrBBQr2q1dVKFT7zwDyppw4nAkdq9VueYhgJ7cyrVY0zKxGz7w/s474/Kijak%252C+Ella+playing+organ.jpg" style="color: black; display: inline; padding: 1em 0px;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial; font-size: xx-small;">Copyright 2021, Cheryl J. Schulte</b></a></i></b></span><br /></div>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970548713593980384noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5517427187577726662.post-88491638273747504642021-10-25T15:28:00.043-04:002021-10-30T15:57:37.563-04:0052 Ancestors in 52 Weeks - Week 43 "Shock"<p><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial;"><b><i><u>MY FIRST TIME "TRICK OR TREATING"</u></i></b></span> </p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>The topic for this week's contribution to the "52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks" Challenge is "Shock". I struggled with what to contribute on this topic and while looking through some old photographs of myself I happened upon two photos taken when I was three years old and having my first experience with "trick or treating". </i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Now true enough this was 70 years ago (oh, my goodness), I certainly don't remember this day and I have no idea what my costume was supposed to be but evidently I was having a good time.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>The quality of the photos is definitely lacking in clarity and I can see that my mother at one time taped some tears with scotch tape but it was a Halloween view and while I am sure I didn't shock anyone with my costume - it wasn't something intended to scare - it is appropriate for a post just prior to Halloween, 2021.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Here I am at Halloween in 1951:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZMrFd6olIlY/YX2idXjluMI/AAAAAAAAZHA/aPpAH6hg34c49hDDfyW1TZTJ49BACtGXgCNcBGAsYHQ/s1725/Schulte%252C%2BCheryl%252C%2BHalloween%2BTrick%2Bor%2BTreating%252C%2Bca%2B1951%2Ba.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1689" data-original-width="1725" height="313" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZMrFd6olIlY/YX2idXjluMI/AAAAAAAAZHA/aPpAH6hg34c49hDDfyW1TZTJ49BACtGXgCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Schulte%252C%2BCheryl%252C%2BHalloween%2BTrick%2Bor%2BTreating%252C%2Bca%2B1951%2Ba.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rHrW2FvQPs0/YX2iiTurfRI/AAAAAAAAZHE/rA7k0DdjbbMHWwDzvbLkLRvcSDliogaJQCNcBGAsYHQ/s1716/Schulte%252C%2BCheryl%252C%2BHalloween%2BTrick%2Bor%2BTreating%252C%2Bca%2B1951%2Bb.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1716" data-original-width="1552" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rHrW2FvQPs0/YX2iiTurfRI/AAAAAAAAZHE/rA7k0DdjbbMHWwDzvbLkLRvcSDliogaJQCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Schulte%252C%2BCheryl%252C%2BHalloween%2BTrick%2Bor%2BTreating%252C%2Bca%2B1951%2Bb.jpg" width="289" /></a></div><br /><i>I don't know where this photo was taken. It was probably my home with my parents or could have been at my paternal grandparent's home, both in Detroit. I do see a baby photo of myself in a frame on a piece of furniture in the background. In the second photo I also see a very early television. It appears that I have a box of caramel corn in my hands and I do remember loving that snack when I was a child.</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>In any event Happy Halloween 1951!</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b style="background-color: #c6dafc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 17.6px; font-style: italic;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU4CEZoKpx7WZ7XdzPMI4ygp5MWFSXsS198odOqkAHKj9oZ3EhCIDf4Eux-tBZAuFkBtz-7Z9DaMQNwCLY9MRnOO3VnLrBBQr2q1dVKFT7zwDyppw4nAkdq9VueYhgJ7cyrVY0zKxGz7w/s474/Kijak%252C+Ella+playing+organ.jpg" style="color: black; display: inline; padding: 1em 0px;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial; font-size: xx-small;">Copyright 2021, Cheryl J. Schulte</b></a></i></b></span></p><p></p>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970548713593980384noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5517427187577726662.post-76654715713546801142021-10-24T16:15:00.003-04:002021-12-25T19:49:54.287-05:00From Whence I Came - Rudolph Myer Schulte<p><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial;"><b><i><u>RUDOLPH MYER SCHULTE</u></i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>My paternal great-grandfather, Rudolph Myer Schulte, was born October 24, 1869 in Beckum, Westphalia, Preußen, Germany to Joseph M. Schulte and Alvina Tobian. Joseph, Alvina and Rudolph immigrated to the US on the ship "Holsatia" and arrived on April 24, 1872 when Rudolph was only a 2 1/2 year old young boy. The family settled in Detroit, Michigan where father, Joseph, carved a career as a blacksmith.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Very little information exists about Rudolph's childhood but I do have this photo of him at the age of 21 where he looks so elegant in a professional photo with a hat on a stand and an umbrella (photo from 1890):</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3k7vNhGL-7Q/YXW_8JdFIoI/AAAAAAAAZFA/QGr5gMqNupsuNKpwHBjRAPcxjURxmkB-QCNcBGAsYHQ/s830/Schulte%252C%2BRudolph%2B21%2Byears.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="830" data-original-width="578" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3k7vNhGL-7Q/YXW_8JdFIoI/AAAAAAAAZFA/QGr5gMqNupsuNKpwHBjRAPcxjURxmkB-QCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Schulte%252C%2BRudolph%2B21%2Byears.jpg" width="223" /></a></b></span></div><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>The above photo was taken just prior to his marriage to my great-grandmother, <a href="http://2sidesoftheocean.blogspot.com/2010/02/from-whence-i-came-juliane-feucht.html"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Juliane Feucht</span></a>. Their son, my grandfather, <a href="http://2sidesoftheocean.blogspot.com/2010/08/from-whence-i-came-elmer-meyer-schulte.html"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Elmer M. Schulte</span></a>, was born on August 4, 1894 in Detroit when Rudolph was working as a Detroit Fire Fighter. Here are a few photos of Rudolph as a Detroit Fire Fighter. The first photo was taken in 1890:</i></b></span></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OmrDHgxccrg/YXXAvOFJYJI/AAAAAAAAZFI/Sg3FC9x0u1AhjvOwtcqVadwkkxAyR4JUACNcBGAsYHQ/s668/Schulte%252C%2BRudolph%252C%2BDetroit%252C%2BMichigan%252C%2Bca%2B1890.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="668" data-original-width="528" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OmrDHgxccrg/YXXAvOFJYJI/AAAAAAAAZFI/Sg3FC9x0u1AhjvOwtcqVadwkkxAyR4JUACNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Schulte%252C%2BRudolph%252C%2BDetroit%252C%2BMichigan%252C%2Bca%2B1890.jpg" width="253" /></a></b></span></b></span></div><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Rudolph with some of his fellow Detroit fire fighters in 1910; Rudolph is on the far left:</i></b></span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lEmrdN-ygRk/YXXBLfQzBwI/AAAAAAAAZFQ/ykBK4HBXFVIAOVmWr63qFoa6jTRPrm_lACNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Schulte%252C%2BRudolph%2Bwith%2Bfire%2Bdepartment%2Bco-workers%252C%2Bca%2B1910.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1260" data-original-width="2048" height="197" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lEmrdN-ygRk/YXXBLfQzBwI/AAAAAAAAZFQ/ykBK4HBXFVIAOVmWr63qFoa6jTRPrm_lACNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Schulte%252C%2BRudolph%2Bwith%2Bfire%2Bdepartment%2Bco-workers%252C%2Bca%2B1910.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p><i>Another outstanding photo of the Detroit Fire Fighters with Rudolph in the bottom row, far right (date unknown):</i></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KADZzDKbw0o/YXXBaLTvHZI/AAAAAAAAZFU/f5RFSYK8Ad4qbT3xMDuIpyqjOLu42SlmACNcBGAsYHQ/s960/Detroit%2BFire%2BFighters%2BGroup%2Bwith%2BRudolph%2BSchulte%2Bbottom%2Brow%2Bfar%2Bright.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="846" data-original-width="960" height="282" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KADZzDKbw0o/YXXBaLTvHZI/AAAAAAAAZFU/f5RFSYK8Ad4qbT3xMDuIpyqjOLu42SlmACNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Detroit%2BFire%2BFighters%2BGroup%2Bwith%2BRudolph%2BSchulte%2Bbottom%2Brow%2Bfar%2Bright.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><i>At the age of 28, Rudolph enlisted in the US Navy and served aboard the USS Yosemite during the Spanish American War. His younger brother, Theodore, also served in the military as this photo of the two of them indicates:</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5QZ7uriOHKc/YXXB0E30u_I/AAAAAAAAZFg/kIoNKfB4CdAIHneRIoCx_EcJzpflPgVLgCNcBGAsYHQ/s1112/Schulte%252C%2BRudolph%2Band%2BTheodore.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1112" data-original-width="871" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5QZ7uriOHKc/YXXB0E30u_I/AAAAAAAAZFg/kIoNKfB4CdAIHneRIoCx_EcJzpflPgVLgCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Schulte%252C%2BRudolph%2Band%2BTheodore.jpg" width="251" /></a></b></span></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>Rudolph did not spend a great deal of time in the US Navy as he was injured and returned home to Detroit where he continued to work as a Detroit Fire Fighter:</i></b></span></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-InH-yOTKT9k/YXXCM-ca77I/AAAAAAAAZFo/9Hka0DFK7Zc1Pgqwa_zAy0On-MpfAYLKgCNcBGAsYHQ/s1579/Schulte%252C%2BRudolph%2Bmilitary%2Bshadowbox-blog2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1579" data-original-width="1118" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-InH-yOTKT9k/YXXCM-ca77I/AAAAAAAAZFo/9Hka0DFK7Zc1Pgqwa_zAy0On-MpfAYLKgCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Schulte%252C%2BRudolph%2Bmilitary%2Bshadowbox-blog2.jpg" width="227" /></a></b></span></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>Between my genie cousin, TK, and myself we have extensively researched our mutual Schulte line back to Beckum and uncovered exciting data taking our family back several generations. Despite all of our research, we have been unable to uncover an actual birth record for Rudolph from Beckum though we have several US records indicating that was his place of birth. We have, also, spent a great deal of time and research in attempting to uncover the reasons for the oft-times recorded hyphenated surname in the Beckum records of Meier/Meyer/Myer-Schulte. In my own immediate family I do know that the name of Meier (again with variant spellings) has shown up as the middle name of one male in each generation going back 6 generations to Rudolph's father, Joseph. When I questioned my grandmother about this years ago she indicated that the name of Meier, et al was "an old family name". Anything further she did not know. Additional research will be needed to solve this mystery.</i></b></span></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>In 1907, Rudolph lost his wife, Julie, to liver cancer and he was left with his son, Elmer, age 12. Despite the fact that Julie was to have been his "beloved" wife (as my grandfather often told me his father referred to his mother), Rudolph wasted no time in marrying again. Within a few WEEKS he was married to Julie's older sister, Elizabeth, who had been widowed twice before and came to their marriage with 5 children of her own. In essence my grandfather grew up with a step-mother who was really his aunt and cousins who were also step-siblings. One of the step-brothers even assumed the surname of Schulte though no evidence exists that Rudolph actually adopted him. It must have been an interesting household.</i></b></span></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Over the years, besides being a Detroit Fire Fighter, Rudolph also worked selling insurance and perfected the early art of investing in real estate. At one time in the 1930's he owned 4 homes on Concord Avenue in Detroit - homes that he promised to each of his three grandchildren when they reached adulthood. Unfortunately these promises did not materialize as Rudolph's second wife, Elizabeth, died in 1938 and he immediately turned around and married a third time to a previously single woman, Mary Bender. It was his third wife who inherited his estate upon his death.</i></b></span></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>This photo is probably my last photo of Rudolph with his granddaughter, Marilyn Schulte, and Amelia Wellhausen, Marilyn's maternal grandmother:</i></b></span></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QrbWYCrGey0/YXXFa2jNZwI/AAAAAAAAZFw/Smq0Gnf8tbMlUGGQlW5wF25OB8QO6uAFQCNcBGAsYHQ/s427/Schulte%252C%2BRudolph%252C%2BMarilyn%252C%2BAmelia%2BWellhausen.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="427" data-original-width="322" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QrbWYCrGey0/YXXFa2jNZwI/AAAAAAAAZFw/Smq0Gnf8tbMlUGGQlW5wF25OB8QO6uAFQCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Schulte%252C%2BRudolph%252C%2BMarilyn%252C%2BAmelia%2BWellhausen.jpg" width="241" /></a></b></span></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>Rudolph passed away on April 1, 1940, a short time after his marriage to Mary Bender, and he is buried with her at Elmwood Cemetery in Detroit:</i></b></span></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8OPCLwdJLa4/YXXFtkvFinI/AAAAAAAAZF4/faEYk5rDgicLKqQ_lSAfKSEuyasLNUuCwCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Schulte%252C%2BRudolph%2Bdeath%2Bcertificate-1940.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8OPCLwdJLa4/YXXFtkvFinI/AAAAAAAAZF4/faEYk5rDgicLKqQ_lSAfKSEuyasLNUuCwCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Schulte%252C%2BRudolph%2Bdeath%2Bcertificate-1940.jpg" width="235" /></a></b></span></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>Elmwood Cemetery is a very old cemetery in Detroit, considered an historic site and quite beautiful though located in an area now that is best visited with a large, burly partner. Despite this, I do have the following photos of the cemetery and the gravestone of my great-grandfather:</i></b></span></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ER7-NUf6wBQ/YXXGGuzS8BI/AAAAAAAAZGA/pW1erS_gTOc4sOR7A8IcrdlA_KEylQvZwCNcBGAsYHQ/s221/Elmwood%2BCemetery%252C%2BDetroit%252C%2BMI-2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="166" data-original-width="221" height="166" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ER7-NUf6wBQ/YXXGGuzS8BI/AAAAAAAAZGA/pW1erS_gTOc4sOR7A8IcrdlA_KEylQvZwCNcBGAsYHQ/s0/Elmwood%2BCemetery%252C%2BDetroit%252C%2BMI-2.jpg" width="221" /></a></b></span></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NzjgZEMuZdc/YXXGKiOgLTI/AAAAAAAAZGE/F8cYUucJ0r0iVBKBPS6rTnGI57yZbSAJACNcBGAsYHQ/s221/Elmwood%2BCemetery%252C%2BDetroit%252C%2BMI-1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="166" data-original-width="221" height="166" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NzjgZEMuZdc/YXXGKiOgLTI/AAAAAAAAZGE/F8cYUucJ0r0iVBKBPS6rTnGI57yZbSAJACNcBGAsYHQ/s0/Elmwood%2BCemetery%252C%2BDetroit%252C%2BMI-1.jpg" width="221" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MvfLCTTLUbI/YXXGOrgQV3I/AAAAAAAAZGI/pKqrbgUpf1I6dL0IbV3qrH0IH5dLIKPCACNcBGAsYHQ/s221/Elmwood%2BCemetery%252C%2BDetroit%252C%2BMI-3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="166" data-original-width="221" height="166" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MvfLCTTLUbI/YXXGOrgQV3I/AAAAAAAAZGI/pKqrbgUpf1I6dL0IbV3qrH0IH5dLIKPCACNcBGAsYHQ/s0/Elmwood%2BCemetery%252C%2BDetroit%252C%2BMI-3.jpg" width="221" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iTx19WpCh7c/YXXGTb9pbRI/AAAAAAAAZGM/sOsqJMXGimkCwyXE8rxeRvifS7UWAbNtwCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Schulte%252C%2BRudolph%2Bgravestone.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1181" data-original-width="2048" height="185" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iTx19WpCh7c/YXXGTb9pbRI/AAAAAAAAZGM/sOsqJMXGimkCwyXE8rxeRvifS7UWAbNtwCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Schulte%252C%2BRudolph%2Bgravestone.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><i>I have often thought of what drove my great-grandfather during his life. My father and my uncle remember their grandfather well and can recount that he always had huge wads of money in his pockets (in actuality single dollars wrapped around a $50 bill) which he would bring out and tease them with. They said he was a good grandfather but their "grandmother" as they referred to Elizabeth, wife #2, was very solemn and not a grandmotherly type. I have always felt a kinship to my great-grandmother, Julie, and am just amazed that Rudolph would have chosen to remarry just a few weeks after Julie's death. While I know that men in those years did not want to be alone raising their children following the early deaths of wives, Rudolph did not have a baby to raise as my grandfather was already 12 when his mother died. Family stories have indicated that Julie's sister, Elizabeth, initiated the marriage prompting Rudolph to combine their families. For whatever reason Rudolph and Elizabeth were married many years and her children remained close to my grandfather, Elmer, following the deaths of their parents.</i></b></span></b></span><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Today I am thinking of him on this 152nd anniversary of his birth.<br /></i></b></span><p></p><p><b style="background-color: #c6dafc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 17.6px; font-style: italic;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU4CEZoKpx7WZ7XdzPMI4ygp5MWFSXsS198odOqkAHKj9oZ3EhCIDf4Eux-tBZAuFkBtz-7Z9DaMQNwCLY9MRnOO3VnLrBBQr2q1dVKFT7zwDyppw4nAkdq9VueYhgJ7cyrVY0zKxGz7w/s474/Kijak%252C+Ella+playing+organ.jpg" style="color: black; display: inline; padding: 1em 0px;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial; font-size: xx-small;">Copyright 2021, Cheryl J. Schulte</b></a></i></b></p><p></p></div>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970548713593980384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5517427187577726662.post-79817950022716593602021-10-18T17:18:00.000-04:002021-10-18T17:18:00.777-04:0052 Ancestors in 52 Weeks - Week 42 "Sports"<p><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial;"><b><i><u>DETROIT SPORTS</u></i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>In my family, sports played a large part in the activities that my father (and brother) enjoyed. The Detroit teams were my father's passion and he could always be found enjoying a game or three at the same time.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>I can still see my father sitting in his recliner watching the Detroit Tigers on the large TV, watching another sport on a small 7" TV that he propped up on his stomach and holding a radio to his ear listening to another team. Whether it was the Detroit Tigers playing baseball, the Pistons playing basketball, the Red Wings - and Gordie Howe - playing hockey or the Lions playing football, there was my dad. In fact my parents had season tickets to all the Detroit Lions games for many seasons. </i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>In going through my photos for an interesting story to enhance this post I came across two photos of my paternal grandfather showing him enjoying sports. </i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>While I remember my grandfather vividly, and while we were extremely close, he never mentioned anything to me about having actively taken part in a sport. But pictures do not lie!</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Here is my grandfather, Elmer Schulte, in 1902 at the age of 8 with his bicycle. I am taking liberties here for the purpose of this post that riding a bicycle is indeed a sport! I am amazed at the size of the tires on this bike and how young my grandfather was when he had this bike. He was also pretty well "dressed up" for a bike ride; was that the way children road bikes in the early 1900's? Realizing this photo is well over 100 years old I did the best I could with scanning it:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i></i></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-91ONFGMd_no/YW3izztl9EI/AAAAAAAAY98/_lNmFWWPcnsW1q1vaI36J62YfQ2Wv72FwCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/x.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1343" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-91ONFGMd_no/YW3izztl9EI/AAAAAAAAY98/_lNmFWWPcnsW1q1vaI36J62YfQ2Wv72FwCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/x.jpg" width="210" /></a></i></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i><br />Some years later, perhaps when newly married, my grandfather was shown in a baseball uniform out on the field catching a fly ball. My grandmother wrote on the back of the photo that this was "Elmer in baseball uniform" though I never knew that he had actually played on a team. </i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Was this a staged photo for fun showing him with feet off the ground catching the ball or was it a real game? I don't know but it is a unique photo that is also over 100 years old:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2uWB07v-e4FcUyyu2rAUCSk2nKXR_h__AB65mHXollWv6ov6T5STZQ2iHe6QSNqgpPUqBIT6-SB5OlELl-aqvxCZAWy1OaappID67BVoPNViJQOW5NLmBZ0cqTadihjdshOyiI4YJxfg/s1655/xx.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1655" data-original-width="1626" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2uWB07v-e4FcUyyu2rAUCSk2nKXR_h__AB65mHXollWv6ov6T5STZQ2iHe6QSNqgpPUqBIT6-SB5OlELl-aqvxCZAWy1OaappID67BVoPNViJQOW5NLmBZ0cqTadihjdshOyiI4YJxfg/s320/xx.jpg" width="314" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>While I remember my grandfather enjoying watching the Detroit teams on TV and listening to them on the radio, it is interesting to me to realize that he also at one time did actually take part in sports.</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Memories and newly discovered memories are enjoyable!</i></b></span></p><p><b style="background-color: #c6dafc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 17.6px; font-style: italic;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU4CEZoKpx7WZ7XdzPMI4ygp5MWFSXsS198odOqkAHKj9oZ3EhCIDf4Eux-tBZAuFkBtz-7Z9DaMQNwCLY9MRnOO3VnLrBBQr2q1dVKFT7zwDyppw4nAkdq9VueYhgJ7cyrVY0zKxGz7w/s474/Kijak%252C+Ella+playing+organ.jpg" style="color: black; display: inline; padding: 1em 0px;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial; font-size: xx-small;">Copyright 2021, Cheryl J. Schulte</b></a></i></b></p>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970548713593980384noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5517427187577726662.post-36116685641635458872021-10-11T14:50:00.198-04:002021-10-13T18:45:53.625-04:0052 Ancestors in 52 Weeks - Week 41 "Changes"<p><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial;"><b><i><u>MELBOURNE M. SCHULTE, SR.-A LOVING GODFATHER</u></i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>I have been blessed with four goddaughters; the first born in 1980 and the other three born in January, February and March, 1983. I have tried to take this responsibility seriously and am close to all four of my goddaughters even at their ages of 38 x 3 and 40! I like to think that I developed my godmother responsibilities from my own, very special godfather. </i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Today I am going to honor his memory with a photo post of how he changed over his lifetime from 1920-2013.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>My godfather, Melbourne M. Schulte, was born September 27, 1920 in Detroit, Michigan to Elmer M. Schulte and Ella Wellhausen. He was their first child; their second child was my father.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>The earliest photo I have of my godfather/uncle Mel was this one taken in early 1921 with his parents; my how they dressed little boys in those days:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-u7E5mLgQKnU/YWcsy3uGFRI/AAAAAAAAY5w/R_SRO4ifDl45j5UGXdwnJRdhEtz0VZe-ACNcBGAsYHQ/s1224/Schulte%252C%2BElmer%252C%2BElla%2B%2526%2BMelbourne.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="904" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-u7E5mLgQKnU/YWcsy3uGFRI/AAAAAAAAY5w/R_SRO4ifDl45j5UGXdwnJRdhEtz0VZe-ACNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Schulte%252C%2BElmer%252C%2BElla%2B%2526%2BMelbourne.jpg" width="236" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>In later years I was able to receive his baby book which my grandparents studiously recorded his early years in; I also have my father's baby book and both are interesting and humorous to read. In my uncle's baby book was a bulletin from his confirmation on March 25, 1934:</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIOqA4rMjiOsRBnYzYL0dij8X96nTKq4I4fOhP-UJKV3p5A_B5tTrqtDvTmsPvgCLFxNnPQhsBdNSc7OoJrLuxvTT8fZE_o_Wz2eBxT0gkYF-hotmtC0pSbvcMf4szH41avsn7unGog7Q/s2048/Schulte%252C+Melbourne+baby+book+page+18.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1488" data-original-width="2048" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIOqA4rMjiOsRBnYzYL0dij8X96nTKq4I4fOhP-UJKV3p5A_B5tTrqtDvTmsPvgCLFxNnPQhsBdNSc7OoJrLuxvTT8fZE_o_Wz2eBxT0gkYF-hotmtC0pSbvcMf4szH41avsn7unGog7Q/s320/Schulte%252C+Melbourne+baby+book+page+18.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ev5kyiQglN8/YWctZcsFlKI/AAAAAAAAY58/cw32wT4k5cEwnZ02RCAW3ebl7xa8mJYBwCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Schulte%252C%2BMelbourne%2Bbaby%2Bbook%2Bpage%2B17.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1488" data-original-width="2048" height="233" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ev5kyiQglN8/YWctZcsFlKI/AAAAAAAAY58/cw32wT4k5cEwnZ02RCAW3ebl7xa8mJYBwCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Schulte%252C%2BMelbourne%2Bbaby%2Bbook%2Bpage%2B17.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rwgSnGCSv5k/YWctniqQqCI/AAAAAAAAY6E/-SOC7C3GsSss4rb6llmyloAFPmL0C7b7wCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Schulte%252C%2BMelbourne%2Bconfirmation%2B1934.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1696" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rwgSnGCSv5k/YWctniqQqCI/AAAAAAAAY6E/-SOC7C3GsSss4rb6llmyloAFPmL0C7b7wCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Schulte%252C%2BMelbourne%2Bconfirmation%2B1934.jpg" width="265" /></a></div><br /><i>My uncle attended Marcy Elementary School in Detroit and on May 23, 1935 he was awarded a Certificate of Honor for being on the School Safety Patrol (this baby book is a treasure trove of information):</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMNfQ9N_AEC0FuyMaQI8mfIbgk61wN7FAbCaHBnMpumaIAwba68Xmchq-HclvDehOSnTw2EPfg85AdOnC8Kadm0ITeyMkuyPWm4KVQuXDvMU6jDZTtgu6qoBfvxkZXuE6HghhtzhMzUUQ/s1795/Schulte%252C+Melbourne+baby+book+page+19.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1258" data-original-width="1795" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMNfQ9N_AEC0FuyMaQI8mfIbgk61wN7FAbCaHBnMpumaIAwba68Xmchq-HclvDehOSnTw2EPfg85AdOnC8Kadm0ITeyMkuyPWm4KVQuXDvMU6jDZTtgu6qoBfvxkZXuE6HghhtzhMzUUQ/s320/Schulte%252C+Melbourne+baby+book+page+19.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>My grandparents evidently liked taking photographs and I am fortunate to have a large supply of my uncle/godfather. These are some photos of him with his younger brother, Mylen-my father, and his younger sister, Marilyn:</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>From 1935:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qv5y5B7VsfM/YWcv9WrpGdI/AAAAAAAAY6k/DqAQ_HTWeAod36udWHrASbqwb091KE8GQCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Schulte%252C%2BMelbourne%252C%2BMylen%252C%2BMarilyn%252C%2B1935.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1301" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qv5y5B7VsfM/YWcv9WrpGdI/AAAAAAAAY6k/DqAQ_HTWeAod36udWHrASbqwb091KE8GQCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Schulte%252C%2BMelbourne%252C%2BMylen%252C%2BMarilyn%252C%2B1935.jpg" width="203" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /></b></span><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>From 1938: </i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioBCrl-_ytpYpFD5XrX06S3Kca1WwJmeJA30NuEJXj5WpGDPKjAgOGTwtKd-YnViiBlTR0zNxfN_7i7MzNJi5AbNxDsAdOw9N1dkHTj_f1su1BM1fXtYTkUbhJHD7yBZEjE1sT0Eyu9Ck/s874/Schulte+Siblings+Melbourne%252C+Marilyn%252C+Mylen%252C+1939.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="874" data-original-width="574" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioBCrl-_ytpYpFD5XrX06S3Kca1WwJmeJA30NuEJXj5WpGDPKjAgOGTwtKd-YnViiBlTR0zNxfN_7i7MzNJi5AbNxDsAdOw9N1dkHTj_f1su1BM1fXtYTkUbhJHD7yBZEjE1sT0Eyu9Ck/s320/Schulte+Siblings+Melbourne%252C+Marilyn%252C+Mylen%252C+1939.jpg" width="210" /></a></b></span></div><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Also in 1938, Mel's grandfather, George Wellhausen, died and Mel sweet-talked his grandmother, Amelia Schluessler Wellhausen, into letting him have his grandfather's car. His grandmother only agreed when Mel was able to show her that he had saved $300 which was the price she was going to sell the car for. In his later years, Mel submitted this story and photo to Reminisce Magazine and it was published in one of their issues. He was very proud of this car and the article:</i></b></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_ojND_vLRS0/YWcx0oo8Q7I/AAAAAAAAY60/36E_bmrunechVCc7-neYgJrmFv_LPxVLgCNcBGAsYHQ/s679/Schulte%252C%2BMelbourne%252C%2BMylen%252C%2BMarilyn%2Bwith%2Bold%2Bcar.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="679" data-original-width="615" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_ojND_vLRS0/YWcx0oo8Q7I/AAAAAAAAY60/36E_bmrunechVCc7-neYgJrmFv_LPxVLgCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Schulte%252C%2BMelbourne%252C%2BMylen%252C%2BMarilyn%2Bwith%2Bold%2Bcar.jpg" width="290" /></a></b></span></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>From 1939:</i></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iYyeulvMD1g/YWcvSD49AEI/AAAAAAAAY6U/1XZRM1axE-cdcxO8pJcOPFB-R9kCKos9wCNcBGAsYHQ/s884/Schulte%2BSiblings%2BMylen%252C%2BMarilyn%252C%2BMelbourne%252C%2B1938.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="884" data-original-width="642" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iYyeulvMD1g/YWcvSD49AEI/AAAAAAAAY6U/1XZRM1axE-cdcxO8pJcOPFB-R9kCKos9wCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Schulte%2BSiblings%2BMylen%252C%2BMarilyn%252C%2BMelbourne%252C%2B1938.jpg" width="232" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>In 1939 Mel graduated from Eastern High School in Detroit. Here he is at graduation with his grandmother, Amelia Schluessler Wellhausen:</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2_j-rkp112A/YWcwRaOk9XI/AAAAAAAAY6s/6BlWyvxcbPIGQ2G0iW8OKAjnESfoy_NiQCNcBGAsYHQ/s900/Schulte%252C%2BMelbourne%2B%2526%2BAmelia%2BWellhausen%252C%2BJune%252C%2B1939.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="611" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2_j-rkp112A/YWcwRaOk9XI/AAAAAAAAY6s/6BlWyvxcbPIGQ2G0iW8OKAjnESfoy_NiQCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Schulte%252C%2BMelbourne%2B%2526%2BAmelia%2BWellhausen%252C%2BJune%252C%2B1939.jpg" width="217" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>Here he is in 1941 with my father when they were both ushers at the Rialto Theatre in Detroit:</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6_UmDRG-0vw/YWcyU5t-SBI/AAAAAAAAY68/LRTwu8OE9IUf_ZtpcIOWM9M7QBuSO7_JgCNcBGAsYHQ/s864/Schulte%252C%2BMelbourne%2B%2526%2BMylen%2BRialto%2Btheatre%2Bushers%252C%2Bca%2B1941.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="584" data-original-width="864" height="216" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6_UmDRG-0vw/YWcyU5t-SBI/AAAAAAAAY68/LRTwu8OE9IUf_ZtpcIOWM9M7QBuSO7_JgCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Schulte%252C%2BMelbourne%2B%2526%2BMylen%2BRialto%2Btheatre%2Bushers%252C%2Bca%2B1941.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>It was while serving as an usher at the Rialto Theatre that he met his future wife, Virginia Reske. As the story goes he was shining his flashlight up and down the aisles and the flashlight stayed on the beautiful legs of Virginia! They were married on November 15, 1941 and were blessed to have a loving and long marriage of just two months shy of 70 years.</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Their marriage was unique in that it was a double wedding at Mt. Zion Lutheran Church in Detroit with another bride and groom who were Mel and Virginia's good friends. Here are the 4 of them a few months prior to their double wedding; left to right are Russell Stickney, Dorothy Voelker, Virginia Reske and Melbourne Schulte:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WmbpoiXGMmY/YWczDmRE-FI/AAAAAAAAY7E/3QjMJgwhyEQNnki2ZlBS1dGfSP3f-uKngCNcBGAsYHQ/s968/Stickney%252C%2BRussell%252C%2BDorothy%2BVoelker%252C%2BVirginia%2BReske%252C%2BMelbourne%2BSchulte%252C%2Bca%2B1941.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="589" data-original-width="968" height="195" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WmbpoiXGMmY/YWczDmRE-FI/AAAAAAAAY7E/3QjMJgwhyEQNnki2ZlBS1dGfSP3f-uKngCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Stickney%252C%2BRussell%252C%2BDorothy%2BVoelker%252C%2BVirginia%2BReske%252C%2BMelbourne%2BSchulte%252C%2Bca%2B1941.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>Wedding Day:</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6WpZjAWADZzC2ykj56BJzwL18zsZ38e9QuqjSzONTLOamX2_l-oBHFoYTvlBq4JGGrNfQNOTrOnCCzUjij0uBzzXVCqfv3Y_amS-mUAKCjYJkB8GRLk41TdtPJ7J_j-NmTsC2oC_xuKo/s785/Schulte%252C+Melbourne+%2526+Virginia+Reske%252C+November+15%252C+1941.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="352" data-original-width="785" height="143" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6WpZjAWADZzC2ykj56BJzwL18zsZ38e9QuqjSzONTLOamX2_l-oBHFoYTvlBq4JGGrNfQNOTrOnCCzUjij0uBzzXVCqfv3Y_amS-mUAKCjYJkB8GRLk41TdtPJ7J_j-NmTsC2oC_xuKo/s320/Schulte%252C+Melbourne+%2526+Virginia+Reske%252C+November+15%252C+1941.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /></b></span><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>WWII came and Mel enlisted in the US Navy and was sent to the Pacific leaving his pregnant wife at home in Detroit:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VHCttKQylU4/YWc052IQLaI/AAAAAAAAY7U/ftEroYkfebEX7Nn5tA_Y8bnK5UGAfyp7QCNcBGAsYHQ/s543/Schulte%252C%2BMelbourne%2Bheadshot%2Bblog.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="543" data-original-width="519" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VHCttKQylU4/YWc052IQLaI/AAAAAAAAY7U/ftEroYkfebEX7Nn5tA_Y8bnK5UGAfyp7QCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Schulte%252C%2BMelbourne%2Bheadshot%2Bblog.jpg" width="306" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>Later that year Mel became a father when he and his wife welcomed a son, Melbourne M. Schulte, Jr. Mel was in the Pacific at the time and the Red Cross notified him of the birth of his son. However, in a mix-up the notification was sent to my father who was serving in Central America at the time with the US Army Air Corps. It was a humorous story told many times over the years.</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Mel, Virginia and baby Mel, Jr. in 1944:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO0NPsVsFX5TT_lDBSPYqf3SaeIjDuEp1OA2pzDylbfbLL9ZErPHLZzjw-jXEnfekwoGwZIMSp6MemFa4c4P7wd-hQrzu6aKvgQ6nuE1gjwsPzlSHzR5g0kA3igHFHCg4CaWvBj2GK8as/s1492/Schulte%252C+Melbourne%252C+Melbourne%252C+Jr+%2526+Virginia+Reske%252C+ca+1944.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1492" data-original-width="876" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO0NPsVsFX5TT_lDBSPYqf3SaeIjDuEp1OA2pzDylbfbLL9ZErPHLZzjw-jXEnfekwoGwZIMSp6MemFa4c4P7wd-hQrzu6aKvgQ6nuE1gjwsPzlSHzR5g0kA3igHFHCg4CaWvBj2GK8as/s320/Schulte%252C+Melbourne%252C+Melbourne%252C+Jr+%2526+Virginia+Reske%252C+ca+1944.jpg" width="188" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>Here is a photo of myself with my godfather/uncle Mel in 1948:</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lMqeLHg4oms/YWc4ZC6Is0I/AAAAAAAAY8k/z4ECcKH_a3gFaqy9bNgz3dDwQ2ot1OXFACNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Schulte%252C%2BMelbourne%2B%2526%2BCheryl%252C%2Bca%2B1949.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1584" data-original-width="1600" height="317" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lMqeLHg4oms/YWc4ZC6Is0I/AAAAAAAAY8k/z4ECcKH_a3gFaqy9bNgz3dDwQ2ot1OXFACNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Schulte%252C%2BMelbourne%2B%2526%2BCheryl%252C%2Bca%2B1949.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Mel in his own barber shop in 1950:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ITcvKFjleBw/YWc3Bt98kqI/AAAAAAAAY7k/2NPnLcSAaDUicuZC4OmgfJqkrn7GxX7lgCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Melbourne%2BSchulte%2BBarber%2BShop%2B1950-1967.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1473" data-original-width="2048" height="230" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ITcvKFjleBw/YWc3Bt98kqI/AAAAAAAAY7k/2NPnLcSAaDUicuZC4OmgfJqkrn7GxX7lgCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Melbourne%2BSchulte%2BBarber%2BShop%2B1950-1967.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>Here are some photos of Mel and Virginia over the years of their marriage:</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>From 1950:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pKD29sf-I2A/YWc3VaLkqLI/AAAAAAAAY7s/OZXHTlfA1F8L3Ah6MxKqeN7w2UcXN9cBgCNcBGAsYHQ/s1103/Schulte%252C%2BMelbourne%2B%2526%2BVirginia%2BReske%252C%2Bca%2B1950.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="808" data-original-width="1103" height="234" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pKD29sf-I2A/YWc3VaLkqLI/AAAAAAAAY7s/OZXHTlfA1F8L3Ah6MxKqeN7w2UcXN9cBgCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Schulte%252C%2BMelbourne%2B%2526%2BVirginia%2BReske%252C%2Bca%2B1950.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>From 1957:</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUkijyyDdMptdl1u2vARSMfwYwh6qiLSWds0wbjZO36e7RoktBjV4sMmw1f2HjnpcfTQJ2K83WV5zIB3JvLlVUkgwGGuEPQMuIq2DDl2BtWf5YNTt8x2feI0rzXnG3MYjmZpJ9yACJqZA/s1381/Schulte%252C+Melbourne+%2526+Virginia+Reske%252C+ca+1957.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1381" data-original-width="934" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUkijyyDdMptdl1u2vARSMfwYwh6qiLSWds0wbjZO36e7RoktBjV4sMmw1f2HjnpcfTQJ2K83WV5zIB3JvLlVUkgwGGuEPQMuIq2DDl2BtWf5YNTt8x2feI0rzXnG3MYjmZpJ9yACJqZA/s320/Schulte%252C+Melbourne+%2526+Virginia+Reske%252C+ca+1957.jpg" width="216" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>From 1960:</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU0vLM0HA7Mu3pz3PLuQ_eQ_jj-AY2dbgyNMNcZkdtknGh-wFu2YqB6rXyGjKM0qHeuYvRgr9W-toZ5re9Y8l5149htF3N8wYDXT0yTikpRTlCou9ThjgEOJnJLXDfgOO75PVFgOHSDDw/s933/Schulte%252C+Melbourne+%2526+Virginia+Reske%252C+ca+1960.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="861" data-original-width="933" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU0vLM0HA7Mu3pz3PLuQ_eQ_jj-AY2dbgyNMNcZkdtknGh-wFu2YqB6rXyGjKM0qHeuYvRgr9W-toZ5re9Y8l5149htF3N8wYDXT0yTikpRTlCou9ThjgEOJnJLXDfgOO75PVFgOHSDDw/s320/Schulte%252C+Melbourne+%2526+Virginia+Reske%252C+ca+1960.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>From 1961:</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBAlp6BoTpgD5BkUuohGeKKudJMRwIeOOXATzbTf7vUyKCOEQnJ3oB5qt_zgZmm7t6IUiQH1xdI3rxiyk_pd9vT7EP-lBDdzmckD4s_N7nR6FT-S-W1lksNoAzLNxCI2MHXO8egyaYdk8/s1032/Schulte%252C+Melbourne%252C+Virginia+Reske%252C+Melbourne+Schulte%252C+Jr.%252C+ca+1961.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1032" data-original-width="644" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBAlp6BoTpgD5BkUuohGeKKudJMRwIeOOXATzbTf7vUyKCOEQnJ3oB5qt_zgZmm7t6IUiQH1xdI3rxiyk_pd9vT7EP-lBDdzmckD4s_N7nR6FT-S-W1lksNoAzLNxCI2MHXO8egyaYdk8/s320/Schulte%252C+Melbourne%252C+Virginia+Reske%252C+Melbourne+Schulte%252C+Jr.%252C+ca+1961.jpg" width="200" /></a></b></span></div><p><b style="font-family: arial;"><i>From 1970:</i></b></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7-wo10HffTI/YWc31fS12uI/AAAAAAAAY8I/Wcj8PwsxQhQPW-Uy-2OFb6RVXLKR6PbjgCNcBGAsYHQ/s537/Schulte%252C%2BMelbourne%2B%2526%2BVirginia%2BReske%252C%2Bca%2B1970.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="537" data-original-width="510" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7-wo10HffTI/YWc31fS12uI/AAAAAAAAY8I/Wcj8PwsxQhQPW-Uy-2OFb6RVXLKR6PbjgCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Schulte%252C%2BMelbourne%2B%2526%2BVirginia%2BReske%252C%2Bca%2B1970.jpg" width="304" /></a></b></span></div><p><b style="font-family: arial;"><i>From 1975:</i></b></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie8Ai14_Y9AvCW8YbfuIWO7GQ2937zAIu_bZ_lENVOeg0dVScfAOB6_1XXKi80jv7gmR3i-TRaMSWT-jClj_AmEcf_n6FIYJJ1Pg__xYJeXIS3-jR1qW2cVoDZSY0gFz0PFCun1ANimOY/s1684/Schulte%252C+Melbourne+%2526+Virginia+Reske%252C+ca+1975.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1094" data-original-width="1684" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie8Ai14_Y9AvCW8YbfuIWO7GQ2937zAIu_bZ_lENVOeg0dVScfAOB6_1XXKi80jv7gmR3i-TRaMSWT-jClj_AmEcf_n6FIYJJ1Pg__xYJeXIS3-jR1qW2cVoDZSY0gFz0PFCun1ANimOY/s320/Schulte%252C+Melbourne+%2526+Virginia+Reske%252C+ca+1975.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>From 2005:</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lLyZ8EI01nQ/YWc4C1_dShI/AAAAAAAAY8U/F9A-QvVFaOwxsde3QwkMRxkdJxW_ehEeACNcBGAsYHQ/s1874/Schulte%252C%2BMelbourne%252C%2B2005.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1874" data-original-width="1312" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lLyZ8EI01nQ/YWc4C1_dShI/AAAAAAAAY8U/F9A-QvVFaOwxsde3QwkMRxkdJxW_ehEeACNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Schulte%252C%2BMelbourne%252C%2B2005.jpg" width="224" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>From 2006:</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLtWBOUEOQi5AIrd5Qbg11sT-cl5j9nZPEWUMc0Vh1sDl96BIa35T-IlHRDNCtHWXQJ3lrdVkZ05-YgCq6vdZvqLvSidvmXfTQ6Nkc6v7iFkk-e7zZYAV_yskbmyVu3p2FR3XjbThFVjc/s263/Schulte%252C+Melbourne+%2526+Virginia+Reske%252C+ca+2006.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="245" data-original-width="263" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLtWBOUEOQi5AIrd5Qbg11sT-cl5j9nZPEWUMc0Vh1sDl96BIa35T-IlHRDNCtHWXQJ3lrdVkZ05-YgCq6vdZvqLvSidvmXfTQ6Nkc6v7iFkk-e7zZYAV_yskbmyVu3p2FR3XjbThFVjc/s0/Schulte%252C+Melbourne+%2526+Virginia+Reske%252C+ca+2006.jpg" width="263" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>Over the years I was extremely close to my aunt and uncle and my uncle was a wonderful and loving godfather. He took this responsibility seriously, sending me cards on various occasions which he selected and signed himself as my aunt was wheelchair bound for much of her later years. He called me frequently and always began the call with the words "this is your godfather calling". </i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>On September 5, 2011 my aunt passed away and my uncle was lost without her. He later moved from their retirement home in Arizona back to Michigan to live with his son and daughter-in-law. In 2013 I was able to visit with him one last time as his health was failing. </i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Here is a photo of my mother with my uncle at that visit:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gnGiXG0TtxQ/YWc5KhDK9XI/AAAAAAAAY8w/EjDJzlIuWIUsuR-q2Ng0wxyMAJgi18nBQCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Schulte%252C%2BEloris%2Band%2BMelbourne%252C%2B01-13-2013.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1894" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gnGiXG0TtxQ/YWc5KhDK9XI/AAAAAAAAY8w/EjDJzlIuWIUsuR-q2Ng0wxyMAJgi18nBQCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Schulte%252C%2BEloris%2Band%2BMelbourne%252C%2B01-13-2013.jpg" width="296" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>On April 9, 2013 my special uncle and godfather passed away. I was glad that I had been able to visit with him one more time and I will never forget him or the part he played in my life. </i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>His <a href="https://www.vickfuneralhome.com/guestbook/2059428"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">obituary</span></a>, although containing some errors that only a genealogist would know, truly represented the life that he had been blessed with. I also was blessed to have had him as my godfather!</i></b></span></p><p><b style="background-color: #c6dafc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 17.6px; font-style: italic;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU4CEZoKpx7WZ7XdzPMI4ygp5MWFSXsS198odOqkAHKj9oZ3EhCIDf4Eux-tBZAuFkBtz-7Z9DaMQNwCLY9MRnOO3VnLrBBQr2q1dVKFT7zwDyppw4nAkdq9VueYhgJ7cyrVY0zKxGz7w/s474/Kijak%252C+Ella+playing+organ.jpg" style="color: black; display: inline; padding: 1em 0px;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial; font-size: xx-small;">Copyright 2021, Cheryl J. Schulte</b></a></i></b></p>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970548713593980384noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5517427187577726662.post-46491124083442974402021-10-04T18:11:00.001-04:002021-10-04T18:14:09.464-04:0052 Ancestors in 52 Weeks - Week 40 "Preservation"<p><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial;"><b><i><u>KEEPSAKE ITEMS TO PRESERVE</u></i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>I have been very fortunate to have inherited many keepsake items from my parents, grandparents and even a few from great-grandparents. These are very important to me and are items I want to preserve. While I don't have children of my own I am hopeful that my niece (with three young sons) or my nephew will one day continue to keep and preserve these items.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Here are some examples:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>A six volume set of "The New Practical Reference Library Encyclopedia" dated 1915 which was owned by my great-grandfather, Rudolph Schulte (1869-1940). The illustrations in these books are outstanding and they are handy reference guides to events in the world prior to 1915:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh91iLf0RLVD2YWEL7bXn28h6lV2xw7bum-E8m8parxjxq6UMa1EqDIndQV5AKnJqkK8RLJcPF8WI0lO_4NzWNKGz5Be8BTaKH1rgeufpNf19nAfKUDDYgujO3Wbx5G45ZwUsh-EJfAkdQ/s2048/0003-Rudolph+Schulte+Encyclopedia+Set.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1385" data-original-width="2048" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh91iLf0RLVD2YWEL7bXn28h6lV2xw7bum-E8m8parxjxq6UMa1EqDIndQV5AKnJqkK8RLJcPF8WI0lO_4NzWNKGz5Be8BTaKH1rgeufpNf19nAfKUDDYgujO3Wbx5G45ZwUsh-EJfAkdQ/s320/0003-Rudolph+Schulte+Encyclopedia+Set.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i><br /></i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>A German violin which also belonged to my great-grandfather, Rudolph Schulte (1869-1940). Rudolph was an insurance salesman in the 1920's. He had a client who could not pay his insurance premium so he gave Rudolph this German violin in exchange for his insurance premium. The violin is dated from the 1850's:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3pSiAbBCYw6J9nTg4wobFPPDELs9GHLXU1yWvVTiSVgwYerwTPyhliHqflfXcy3kkoz1lYwcDDQoEfSgGEKm0MaVMR9cH37h9ABdc1XsIwKyimz4dLIP3LBrYW18xLsrKUcEeEk69WXU/s2048/0007-Violin+Of+Rudolph+Schulte.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3pSiAbBCYw6J9nTg4wobFPPDELs9GHLXU1yWvVTiSVgwYerwTPyhliHqflfXcy3kkoz1lYwcDDQoEfSgGEKm0MaVMR9cH37h9ABdc1XsIwKyimz4dLIP3LBrYW18xLsrKUcEeEk69WXU/s320/0007-Violin+Of+Rudolph+Schulte.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i><br /></i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>A German prayer book which belonged to my great-grandmother, Bertha, nee Kramp, Kolberg (1860-1915). She brought this book to the US when she immigrated on November 28, 1883 from Klein Tuchen, Kreis Bütow, Pommern, Germany:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYCLANuyiG___H_7VFgDSTbinwVZnm8sHT_M8-ymnW8Ouqe5IPeebbZTmQ_UZ_8eLx9NNqLCxc7TvuaEk7cu3JeGg9f32Y1UOUMlu2992VrhB8Agj0Y8_VBIfSQJD0L63cZiGDMq4aZDc/s2048/0015-Bertha+Kramp+German+Book.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYCLANuyiG___H_7VFgDSTbinwVZnm8sHT_M8-ymnW8Ouqe5IPeebbZTmQ_UZ_8eLx9NNqLCxc7TvuaEk7cu3JeGg9f32Y1UOUMlu2992VrhB8Agj0Y8_VBIfSQJD0L63cZiGDMq4aZDc/s320/0015-Bertha+Kramp+German+Book.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-szOSfEiV0TU/YVt204qdAOI/AAAAAAAAY2k/tB4A_PY6CNAH4hHfDajmq_M6jaFzYVeXQCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/0016-Bertha%2BKramp%2BGerman%2BBook.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1202" data-original-width="2048" height="188" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-szOSfEiV0TU/YVt204qdAOI/AAAAAAAAY2k/tB4A_PY6CNAH4hHfDajmq_M6jaFzYVeXQCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/0016-Bertha%2BKramp%2BGerman%2BBook.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><i><br /></i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>My most prized possession is this cut glass mushroom lamp which belonged to my great-grandparents, Rudolph (1869-1940) and Juliane, nee Feucht (1870-1907), Schulte. This lamp dates to the mid-1890's and was in their home throughout their marriage and later passed down in the family until I received it. This lamp is special to me because it is the only item I have of my great-grandmother who passed away at the young age of 36:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kLESJcU5PzI/YVt3ts1-ChI/AAAAAAAAY20/xUm_rqMdNQIoIuutLzrB93WeqkhL40g4wCNcBGAsYHQ/s1526/xx.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1526" data-original-width="1409" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kLESJcU5PzI/YVt3ts1-ChI/AAAAAAAAY20/xUm_rqMdNQIoIuutLzrB93WeqkhL40g4wCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/xx.jpg" width="295" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i><br /></i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>A childhood roll top desk that was my father's (1923-1996). I still use this desk today to hold office supplies and I have a desk lamp placed on top:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuI9rHeE3lNp7-UR-N13dP3X8OMV5rEIkacgoN3QgY0dD4JR8qnBrkVheB_q-oqKq8Q6InWar3AkyQzoI80FLZJ-lzB0iEAwW1YrUy8wuCOSUMYtLfnGNvVft5N_nu9WjVh4wEd86Iiw0/s2048/0113-Mylen+Schulte+Childhood+Desk.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1518" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuI9rHeE3lNp7-UR-N13dP3X8OMV5rEIkacgoN3QgY0dD4JR8qnBrkVheB_q-oqKq8Q6InWar3AkyQzoI80FLZJ-lzB0iEAwW1YrUy8wuCOSUMYtLfnGNvVft5N_nu9WjVh4wEd86Iiw0/s320/0113-Mylen+Schulte+Childhood+Desk.jpg" width="237" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SminEgwAYGA/YVt4XGs4osI/AAAAAAAAY28/lpj9i1RQSeAkGDCK-wEdwFFVT7GQ8BjhwCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/0114-Mylen%2BSchulte%2BChildhood%2BDesk.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1574" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SminEgwAYGA/YVt4XGs4osI/AAAAAAAAY28/lpj9i1RQSeAkGDCK-wEdwFFVT7GQ8BjhwCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/0114-Mylen%2BSchulte%2BChildhood%2BDesk.jpg" width="246" /></a></div><br /><i><br /></i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>A Polish flute (or better known as a recorder) which belonged to my great-grandfather, John Kijak (1861-1945), who used this flute to call sheep while he was still living in Poland. He immigrated to the US from Taniborz, Tulce, Poland, on June 19, 1882:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wpAKgc_tA2A/YVt4whximlI/AAAAAAAAY3M/Ntmr6ewgumAsW-cQ2CCi5becao6OmB3KwCNcBGAsYHQ/s3269/0019-John%2BKijak%2BFlute%2BFrom%2BPoland.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="962" data-original-width="3269" height="94" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wpAKgc_tA2A/YVt4whximlI/AAAAAAAAY3M/Ntmr6ewgumAsW-cQ2CCi5becao6OmB3KwCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/0019-John%2BKijak%2BFlute%2BFrom%2BPoland.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i><br /></i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>A photo album that belonged to my great-grandmother, Amelia, nee Schluessler, Wellhausen (1876-1963). This type of album is frequently seen now in antique shops:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2Ow6ULHJ4u0/YVt5nfBhJfI/AAAAAAAAY3U/UweeK13xcd0lYEc_q8LsrNd_zTzIk67PwCNcBGAsYHQ/s630/0111-Amelia%2BSchluessler%2BPhoto%2BAlbum.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="620" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2Ow6ULHJ4u0/YVt5nfBhJfI/AAAAAAAAY3U/UweeK13xcd0lYEc_q8LsrNd_zTzIk67PwCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/0111-Amelia%2BSchluessler%2BPhoto%2BAlbum.jpg" width="315" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i><br /></i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>My mother's (1925-2016) cedar chest which she received for her high school graduation in 1943 from her parents. Her parents had this cedar chest hidden in their own bedroom, covered with a quilt, for weeks before the graduation and my mother told me she never noticed anything different:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i></i></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m46OZ_7aJ5Q/YVt6E6ozucI/AAAAAAAAY3c/uATTCv0O9AUmFeDILU4stcEkTsuCxdWxACNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/0061-Eloris%2BKijak%2BCedar%2BChest-1943.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1562" data-original-width="2048" height="244" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m46OZ_7aJ5Q/YVt6E6ozucI/AAAAAAAAY3c/uATTCv0O9AUmFeDILU4stcEkTsuCxdWxACNcBGAsYHQ/s320/0061-Eloris%2BKijak%2BCedar%2BChest-1943.jpg" width="320" /></a></i></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i><br /> All of these items are important to me and are all displayed in my home. It is important to me, as a genealogist and family historian, that these items continue to be preserved.</i></b></span><p></p><p><b style="background-color: #c6dafc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 17.6px; font-style: italic;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU4CEZoKpx7WZ7XdzPMI4ygp5MWFSXsS198odOqkAHKj9oZ3EhCIDf4Eux-tBZAuFkBtz-7Z9DaMQNwCLY9MRnOO3VnLrBBQr2q1dVKFT7zwDyppw4nAkdq9VueYhgJ7cyrVY0zKxGz7w/s474/Kijak%252C+Ella+playing+organ.jpg" style="color: black; display: inline; padding: 1em 0px;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial; font-size: xx-small;">Copyright 2021, Cheryl J. Schulte</b></a></i></b></p><div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-542438017093805421" itemprop="description articleBody" style="background-color: #c6dafc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 17.6px; font-style: italic; font-weight: 700; line-height: 1.4; position: relative; width: 373px;"></div>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970548713593980384noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5517427187577726662.post-5424380170938054212021-09-27T14:50:00.102-04:002021-10-04T16:25:34.621-04:0052 Ancestors in 52 Weeks - Week 39 "Steps"<p><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial;"><b><i><u>THE BERLINER DOM AND WARTBURG CASTLE</u></i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>My passion for genealogy began in the mid 1970's and has continued to this day allowing me to research my German and Polish ancestors. During those 46+ years I have been able to visit Germany four different times. Those visits were historical, enjoyable and worth every minute. I would love to be able to go back again some day.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>One thing I learned when visiting Germany was that the Germans love to walk and are much more adept at that than we are here in the US. They walk everywhere and I mean everywhere!</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>On my trip in 1993 I visited my brother and his family who were living in Hanau, Germany where my brother was stationed with the US Army. We traveled across Germany and into Poland, visiting 16 of the villages of our ancestors that I had uncovered to that date. </i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>On one of our days in Eisenach my brother wanted to take me to the Wartburg Castle. As Lutherans we knew that the Wartburg is famous as it was the place where Martin Luther translated the New Testament of the Bible into German. My brother and his family had been there before but they wanted me to experience the visit as well.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>The Wartburg is a castle originally built in the Middle Ages. It is situated on a precipice of 1,350 feet to the southwest of and overlooking the town of Eisenach in the state of Thuringia, Germany.</i></b></span></p><p><b style="font-family: arial;"><i>I was excited to visit this castle but what my brother did not tell me was that there were many steps and steep inclines to get to the top all outside! Steps and steep inclines were not in my comfort zone but I set off with my brother and his 10 year old daughter. I was amazed to see elderly German people, many with canes, marching along up the stairs passing me by with no obvious strain. There are resting benches along the way and I was stopping at each one. I thought we would never get to the top. My 10 year old niece was quite amused!</i></b></p><p><b style="font-family: arial;"><i>Once there it was well worth the struggle but oh those steps! Going down was so much easier. Obviously the significance of visiting these sites is the experience of seeing the site in its original condition. If only they had heard of elevators!! </i></b></p><p><b style="font-family: arial;"><i>This photo from 1817, in the public domain, shows a good example of the steps needed to get to the Wartburg:</i></b></p><p><b style="font-family: arial;"></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SskIvlyXDNY/YVtb1wlOdNI/AAAAAAAAY2M/z1M0PfnIXVED9e3EjfQ7HYrpLndsy8CQwCNcBGAsYHQ/s1280/1280px-Wartburg-Studentenzug-1817.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="967" data-original-width="1280" height="242" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SskIvlyXDNY/YVtb1wlOdNI/AAAAAAAAY2M/z1M0PfnIXVED9e3EjfQ7HYrpLndsy8CQwCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/1280px-Wartburg-Studentenzug-1817.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><b style="font-family: arial;"><i>In 2008 I again visited Germany, this time to visit cousins in Berlin. This was an exciting visit as I had connected with these cousins back in 1999 and had confirmed that their Kolberg grandfather and my mother's Kolberg grandfather were indeed brothers thus adding a 6th Kolberg brother to my ancestral family. I was there for 3 weeks and, again, walking was a daily occurrence.</i></b></p><p><b style="font-family: arial;"><i>The day they took me to see the Berliner Dom reminded me of the visit to the Wartburg Castle some 15 years earlier. </i></b></p><p><b style="font-family: arial;"><i>The Berliner Dom (Berlin Cathedral) is a monumental German Evangelical church and contains in the basement the dynastic tombs of the House of Hohenzollern. It is located in central Berlin. The Dome's organ has over 7000 pipes and is a masterpiece to see and is one of the largest in Germany. </i></b></p><p><b style="font-family: arial;"><i>Again, what I did not realize, was that a visit to the Dom requires climbing 270 STEPS to the top where one stands outside viewing all of Berlin below. As before on my trip to The Wartburg, Germans of all ages were sprinting up to the top without a care. My host cousin, then 78 years old himself, could easily keep up with the rest but he was gracious in allowing me to stagger behind. Eventually we reached the top where the view was amazing:</i></b></p><p><b style="font-family: arial;"></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHQfk-5vGzQZFARHjyhwD4bQr3I6VGsexQ1I79y6RcK9qz9EM0CIZ1OlgxDht1euo5sVuRymfRkCv3VBprhHy1h5hz691PI8kIllDkmHZoUbn0PWVq7ESwUFnnsCIsGGRnXbTGedxkyFU/s2048/00025+Berliner+Dom+in+Background.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1484" data-original-width="2048" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHQfk-5vGzQZFARHjyhwD4bQr3I6VGsexQ1I79y6RcK9qz9EM0CIZ1OlgxDht1euo5sVuRymfRkCv3VBprhHy1h5hz691PI8kIllDkmHZoUbn0PWVq7ESwUFnnsCIsGGRnXbTGedxkyFU/s320/00025+Berliner+Dom+in+Background.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></div><b style="font-family: arial;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P6AzWVG8N4M/YVtUhRIseWI/AAAAAAAAY1s/jLBx9_DSGzkdJuJ8XxHQv4B2uNDdGMqsACNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/00026%2BView%2Bof%2BBerlin%2Bwith%2BBerliner%2BDom%2Bin%2BBackground.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1484" data-original-width="2048" height="232" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P6AzWVG8N4M/YVtUhRIseWI/AAAAAAAAY1s/jLBx9_DSGzkdJuJ8XxHQv4B2uNDdGMqsACNcBGAsYHQ/s320/00026%2BView%2Bof%2BBerlin%2Bwith%2BBerliner%2BDom%2Bin%2BBackground.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuRwYyfRTRSjwwDLfU4gHEKx0wB6FEGlHDeh54tvydmCk_sb-m-FVpb9WAM6k04IIqciESvN-AuXbONNOA6kxgwhTQYkPnHvtZplWmwiweSxKZJeQ55tnRNY0woPb0n3eeCPlU8D25BKc/s2048/00027+Berliner+Dom+Full+View.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuRwYyfRTRSjwwDLfU4gHEKx0wB6FEGlHDeh54tvydmCk_sb-m-FVpb9WAM6k04IIqciESvN-AuXbONNOA6kxgwhTQYkPnHvtZplWmwiweSxKZJeQ55tnRNY0woPb0n3eeCPlU8D25BKc/s320/00027+Berliner+Dom+Full+View.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p><i><br /></i></p><p><i>Martin Luther in the Dom:</i></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0twVhorE_f6YUBP5i6fNAYWb9Y5Ng699uFnKxs9ghcTofvqCbvVojS93Y1H7CyzgdZKn7i5_tOvKrOf9a_OVIkbSYBR-2N06afKeqsEJl1aWQ4Uihkdz_V7xYmyJRtOH_NvkyVGqU-sU/s2048/00028+Martin+Luther+in+Berliner+Dom.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1484" data-original-width="2048" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0twVhorE_f6YUBP5i6fNAYWb9Y5Ng699uFnKxs9ghcTofvqCbvVojS93Y1H7CyzgdZKn7i5_tOvKrOf9a_OVIkbSYBR-2N06afKeqsEJl1aWQ4Uihkdz_V7xYmyJRtOH_NvkyVGqU-sU/s320/00028+Martin+Luther+in+Berliner+Dom.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcAf5u75YixAzRdNZvUQ2qfoZvbU7RNVSqiTqZRaGCVZJ2Bm8JRoKbu-7yu0rFTHwrQ7V1hNGOtBeWrJxQ3bvmgkJO1RJ2BpTpiMVRooEIaXyKxTE95aSnK6lYbEgjszdqMJ9VdNkw4R0/s2048/00029+Martin+Luther+in+Berliner+Dom+Praying.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1484" data-original-width="2048" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcAf5u75YixAzRdNZvUQ2qfoZvbU7RNVSqiTqZRaGCVZJ2Bm8JRoKbu-7yu0rFTHwrQ7V1hNGOtBeWrJxQ3bvmgkJO1RJ2BpTpiMVRooEIaXyKxTE95aSnK6lYbEgjszdqMJ9VdNkw4R0/s320/00029+Martin+Luther+in+Berliner+Dom+Praying.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /></b><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Germany is indeed a place of many historical landmarks that connect me to my ancestors. Hopefully with my genealogical research I am memoralizing them with honor and dignity. </i></b></span></p><p><b style="background-color: #c6dafc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 17.6px; font-style: italic;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU4CEZoKpx7WZ7XdzPMI4ygp5MWFSXsS198odOqkAHKj9oZ3EhCIDf4Eux-tBZAuFkBtz-7Z9DaMQNwCLY9MRnOO3VnLrBBQr2q1dVKFT7zwDyppw4nAkdq9VueYhgJ7cyrVY0zKxGz7w/s474/Kijak%252C+Ella+playing+organ.jpg" style="color: black; display: inline; padding: 1em 0px;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial; font-size: xx-small;">Copyright 2021, Cheryl J. Schulte</b></a></i></b><span style="background-color: #c6dafc; font-family: arial; font-size: 17.6px; font-style: italic; font-weight: 700;"> </span></p>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970548713593980384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5517427187577726662.post-78183675750158536632021-09-20T22:27:00.011-04:002021-10-03T22:52:40.719-04:0052 Ancestors in 52 Weeks - Week 38 "Fun and Games"<p><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial;"><b><i><u>KEEPSAKES OF MY YOUTH</u></i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>My maternal grandparents, Joseph and Ella, nee Kolberg, Kijak were blessed with creative talents. They were loving grandparents who were able to produce gifts for their children and grandchildren created with their own hands. </i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Here are some examples of these creations that I still have today along with the memories of where they came from:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>My mother was born in 1925 and her father made her a child's rocking chair as well as doll furniture which she played with. When I came along some 20+ years later I also sat in the rocking chair and played with the doll furniture some of which I have recently had re-upholstered:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i></i></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FiceQIve1yE/YVpn23HeAoI/AAAAAAAAY0A/7u3hAbyY5UQ-kcZEuPH0XAP9qNtHPJ-vACNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/0052-Joseph%2BKijak%2BCreations%2BOf%2BEloris%2BKijak%2BBaby%2BRocking%2BChair.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1664" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FiceQIve1yE/YVpn23HeAoI/AAAAAAAAY0A/7u3hAbyY5UQ-kcZEuPH0XAP9qNtHPJ-vACNcBGAsYHQ/s320/0052-Joseph%2BKijak%2BCreations%2BOf%2BEloris%2BKijak%2BBaby%2BRocking%2BChair.jpg" width="260" /></a></i></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i><br /> </i></b></span> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgawK1cFd6lBzFQ_J1g5P3dvyOHEiHI19KFIb2bE0uqr1PsFwpvZC03njxO_kxaWOo7-Es8TLqd3kSpRNXjhacxT1v8kmbuf-weZCRzMxfSo0CpiUSCjpexWOpijOzJaddPYD-PpcSSBAQ/s2610/0025-Joseph+Kijak+Creations+Of+Doll+Chair+And+Doll+Rocker.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1021" data-original-width="2610" height="125" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgawK1cFd6lBzFQ_J1g5P3dvyOHEiHI19KFIb2bE0uqr1PsFwpvZC03njxO_kxaWOo7-Es8TLqd3kSpRNXjhacxT1v8kmbuf-weZCRzMxfSo0CpiUSCjpexWOpijOzJaddPYD-PpcSSBAQ/s320/0025-Joseph+Kijak+Creations+Of+Doll+Chair+And+Doll+Rocker.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLg_x1ZObM5seoCsN9b1Qb_QEVQeMn3t9y_zuFkLvcylAeMz-TxD_HfevtRJTPZcNMHTohJrd1LSjSzWGvH_DGGXHg4w0M6zKTrqMvCqMU_j_cyEStoDbRYjEscM5k8JpGE017dp0QOpQ/s2649/0026-Joseph+Kijak+Creations+of+Doll+Couch.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1187" data-original-width="2649" height="143" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLg_x1ZObM5seoCsN9b1Qb_QEVQeMn3t9y_zuFkLvcylAeMz-TxD_HfevtRJTPZcNMHTohJrd1LSjSzWGvH_DGGXHg4w0M6zKTrqMvCqMU_j_cyEStoDbRYjEscM5k8JpGE017dp0QOpQ/s320/0026-Joseph+Kijak+Creations+of+Doll+Couch.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1IIwOLaOEls/YVpoOEpAyPI/AAAAAAAAY0Q/5FntNIM-AXEQLSvIbTLk1Itk7uvldvsCACNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/0005-Joseph%2BKijak%2BCreations%2BOf%2BDoll%2BFurniture-Recovered%2Bin%2B2019.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1IIwOLaOEls/YVpoOEpAyPI/AAAAAAAAY0Q/5FntNIM-AXEQLSvIbTLk1Itk7uvldvsCACNcBGAsYHQ/s320/0005-Joseph%2BKijak%2BCreations%2BOf%2BDoll%2BFurniture-Recovered%2Bin%2B2019.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T5A-Xj_RHk8/YVpoUmKXIJI/AAAAAAAAY0Y/W0PA6KjRYz89imTC5fTf3mD9Ejzqn29RwCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/0027-Joseph%2BKijak%2BCreations%2Bof%2BMaroon%2BDoll%2BCouch%2BAnd%2BChair.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1047" data-original-width="2048" height="164" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T5A-Xj_RHk8/YVpoUmKXIJI/AAAAAAAAY0Y/W0PA6KjRYz89imTC5fTf3mD9Ejzqn29RwCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/0027-Joseph%2BKijak%2BCreations%2Bof%2BMaroon%2BDoll%2BCouch%2BAnd%2BChair.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p style="text-align: left;"><b style="font-family: arial;"><i>My grandmother was an excellent seamstress and also very interested in the creation of crafts many of which I have today from stuffed animals, doll clothes, refrigerator magnets, etc - all items that I had fun with when I was growing up and now which have treasured places in my home:</i></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmEX_uDpaL4qBdxYsWfzjWl5aM-aHSUmZay3XdBI5ca-nMh61QU2H6HjXMv5i9yOim5XhoDshdeTI2Lhb7yq69r3n07J_8xP5MfY56XUdYHXYrUeCAIlWela9j0GtOvKmJ6SFCNTopsA4/s2048/0004-Ella+Kolberg+Creations+Of+Christmas+Decorations.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmEX_uDpaL4qBdxYsWfzjWl5aM-aHSUmZay3XdBI5ca-nMh61QU2H6HjXMv5i9yOim5XhoDshdeTI2Lhb7yq69r3n07J_8xP5MfY56XUdYHXYrUeCAIlWela9j0GtOvKmJ6SFCNTopsA4/s320/0004-Ella+Kolberg+Creations+Of+Christmas+Decorations.jpg" width="240" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-diGT6DxxuCs1qdCpi04VBBmyOuqnGKMqfKj7T_OibaP9aJ2Azz_Up4Cr4ASuR5_PwKenxYen9HuPTl1o9skEVzrDShjvBSwPwFRexRLm3Edav-P-5TPEmC3PB01ns41XIKvPrZiQ5I4/s2048/0017-Ella+Kolberg+Creations+Of+Stuffed+Animals.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2048" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-diGT6DxxuCs1qdCpi04VBBmyOuqnGKMqfKj7T_OibaP9aJ2Azz_Up4Cr4ASuR5_PwKenxYen9HuPTl1o9skEVzrDShjvBSwPwFRexRLm3Edav-P-5TPEmC3PB01ns41XIKvPrZiQ5I4/s320/0017-Ella+Kolberg+Creations+Of+Stuffed+Animals.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3ky626TmWUI/YVppFWXE2NI/AAAAAAAAY0w/uNwf0URGfQQLZwWbpCwVjvtWThtfeayiQCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/0069-Ella%2BKolberg%2BCreations%2BOf%2BStuffed%2BEaster%2BBunny%2BAnd%2BStuffed%2BLamb.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1652" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3ky626TmWUI/YVppFWXE2NI/AAAAAAAAY0w/uNwf0URGfQQLZwWbpCwVjvtWThtfeayiQCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/0069-Ella%2BKolberg%2BCreations%2BOf%2BStuffed%2BEaster%2BBunny%2BAnd%2BStuffed%2BLamb.jpg" width="258" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzKGM0_PpOjCecka2GGgCO3e0mjEAIYZ6kQfs8pdYtL4iWR-tWWffWQptTc6YzK4hUwPhcu7nT2fSU4CRnGUie0434Zre0CoemDNchAwCIkbSaZERg6AgPq1SiZAV0lp1EWfMJuAZeqn0/s2048/0072-Ella+Kolberg+Creations+Of+Poodle+Refrigerator+Magnets.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1524" data-original-width="2048" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzKGM0_PpOjCecka2GGgCO3e0mjEAIYZ6kQfs8pdYtL4iWR-tWWffWQptTc6YzK4hUwPhcu7nT2fSU4CRnGUie0434Zre0CoemDNchAwCIkbSaZERg6AgPq1SiZAV0lp1EWfMJuAZeqn0/s320/0072-Ella+Kolberg+Creations+Of+Poodle+Refrigerator+Magnets.jpg" width="320" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2aq3m7oPswfAAWcaEIIErCPqHg7b3pyfu09NWQ18zhdzVO5yyPM6FpzZRWDz-PQXpy8y1gcnpocfLL38zeMrX48jI0Sk0plotmAj-rPltZFdFedovTz-_v-tNCJI_E09Hd7Ux2yl3I-Q/s2048/0094-Ella+Kolberg+Creations+Of+Doll+Clothes.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1703" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2aq3m7oPswfAAWcaEIIErCPqHg7b3pyfu09NWQ18zhdzVO5yyPM6FpzZRWDz-PQXpy8y1gcnpocfLL38zeMrX48jI0Sk0plotmAj-rPltZFdFedovTz-_v-tNCJI_E09Hd7Ux2yl3I-Q/s320/0094-Ella+Kolberg+Creations+Of+Doll+Clothes.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eGnHHDebCSE/YVppUNGYK8I/AAAAAAAAY08/_x0YlV6s2mEll8lky0oT_ZqItOnlJS3xwCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/0090-Ella%2BKolberg%2BCreations%2BOf%2BDoll%2BClothes.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1272" data-original-width="2048" height="199" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eGnHHDebCSE/YVppUNGYK8I/AAAAAAAAY08/_x0YlV6s2mEll8lky0oT_ZqItOnlJS3xwCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/0090-Ella%2BKolberg%2BCreations%2BOf%2BDoll%2BClothes.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><i>My grandmother even made my christening gown which I still have today as well:</i></b></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XXOJ33wc-iE/YVpplaZMo2I/AAAAAAAAY1Q/-Y3RdScsavQWETL-MqaYpq9h50b7zCe6QCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/0021-Cheryl%2BSchulte%2BChristening%2BGown%252C%2B1948.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1559" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XXOJ33wc-iE/YVpplaZMo2I/AAAAAAAAY1Q/-Y3RdScsavQWETL-MqaYpq9h50b7zCe6QCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/0021-Cheryl%2BSchulte%2BChristening%2BGown%252C%2B1948.jpg" width="244" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>But what was the favorite toy that my brother and I always enjoyed playing with when we would visit our grandparents? A huge can that contained hundreds of EMPTY SPOOLS from thread!! As a seamstress my grandmother went through thread rapidly and she saved all the empty spools. When we would visit she would let us empty the can onto the living room floor and we would build things with them. </i></b></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Now, years later when I talk with other cousins in the area the first thing they mention about when visiting "Aunt" Ella was that they were able to play with the spools. I wish I had a photo of them but when my grandmother sold her home in 1970 and moved into a new Senior Citizen apartment complex in St. Joseph, Michigan she actually was able to sell the can with the spools and off they went - perhaps to be toys for other children!</i></b></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Such good memories!</i></b></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b style="background-color: #c6dafc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 17.6px; font-style: italic;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU4CEZoKpx7WZ7XdzPMI4ygp5MWFSXsS198odOqkAHKj9oZ3EhCIDf4Eux-tBZAuFkBtz-7Z9DaMQNwCLY9MRnOO3VnLrBBQr2q1dVKFT7zwDyppw4nAkdq9VueYhgJ7cyrVY0zKxGz7w/s474/Kijak%252C+Ella+playing+organ.jpg" style="color: black; display: inline; padding: 1em 0px;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial; font-size: xx-small;">Copyright 2021, Cheryl J. Schulte</b></a></i></b><span style="background-color: #c6dafc; font-family: arial; font-size: 17.6px; font-style: italic; font-weight: 700;"> </span></p>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970548713593980384noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5517427187577726662.post-13812591773000311842021-09-13T21:05:00.174-04:002021-10-03T22:21:34.652-04:0052 Ancestors in 52 Weeks - Week 37 "On The Farm"<p><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial;"><b><i><u>MY MATERNAL ANCESTRAL FARMS</u></i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Many of my mother's maternal ancestors were farmers both in Germany and in Berrien County, Michigan. While I don't have many photos of the actual farms, quite a few original farm homes are still standing in excellent condition. </i></b></span></p><p><b style="font-family: arial;"><i>My maternal grandmother's sister, Amelia, nee Kolberg, Mielke, and her husband, Edward Mielke, had a large farm in Stevensville, Michigan on Roosevelt Road. Their farm produced a variety of fruits and vegetables which they sold from a stand in front of their home. Their daughter told me many times about how she loved to help her father on the farm despite the fact that she was only 3 or 4 at the time. Recently when I was talking to her I mentioned that I had bought a bushel of peaches from a farm in the area and she asked me the price of the peaches (2021 price!). When I told her that they were $44 for a bushel she was shocked and told me that her father sold their peaches for 50 cents a bushel! I told her I would drive by her old home and see if peaches were being sold there for 50 cents a bushel and she got quite a laugh out of that.</i></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Following is a photo of Amelia, nee Kolberg, Mielke with two of her children in 1946 and a photo of their home today:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWrhifqtbQ7DFyLVWMBqlkWy0ajyhLlv6x6mPk5ihn6gMbG6FveosrQGfeVg5ocicSrrsPiovToBqzMCCZ6HkyF5a0CUeGMV0iGnjbl5nM9t5vbXIIMoKv7gggfB-_ceLoO70n1b1Hpj4/s996/Mielke%252C+Amelia%252C+Harry%252C+Marion+ca+1946.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="627" data-original-width="996" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWrhifqtbQ7DFyLVWMBqlkWy0ajyhLlv6x6mPk5ihn6gMbG6FveosrQGfeVg5ocicSrrsPiovToBqzMCCZ6HkyF5a0CUeGMV0iGnjbl5nM9t5vbXIIMoKv7gggfB-_ceLoO70n1b1Hpj4/s320/Mielke%252C+Amelia%252C+Harry%252C+Marion+ca+1946.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DSsutLr426w/YVpWBz-y1CI/AAAAAAAAYyQ/3O529gsC7mE4RgxXaERtLH2NtCZRz0kHgCNcBGAsYHQ/s720/Mielke%252C%2BEdward%2B%2526%2BAmelia%2Bhome%2Bon%2BRoosevelt%2BRoad%2Bin%2BStevensville%252C%2BMI%2Bnow%252C%2B08-10-11a.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="720" height="213" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DSsutLr426w/YVpWBz-y1CI/AAAAAAAAYyQ/3O529gsC7mE4RgxXaERtLH2NtCZRz0kHgCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Mielke%252C%2BEdward%2B%2526%2BAmelia%2Bhome%2Bon%2BRoosevelt%2BRoad%2Bin%2BStevensville%252C%2BMI%2Bnow%252C%2B08-10-11a.JPG" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><b style="font-family: arial;"><i><p><b><i>My great-grandfather, August Kolberg's, brother Henry and his wife, Ottilie, nee Kramp, had a large farm on Cleveland Avenue in Stevensville, Michigan. They also had a large family of 14 children which required a very large home. Today their home is a showpiece along Cleveland Avenue which owners over the years have renovated. </i></b></p></i></b><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Following is a photo of Henry and Ottilie with two of their children in approximately 1890 followed by a photo of their home today:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XFHzLR2DnCA/YVpb6P9QDCI/AAAAAAAAYzI/AHUgYm_l5n41c-Wa0qPvp1P15Zu3JHtJwCNcBGAsYHQ/s606/Kolberg%252C%2BHenry%252C%2BOttillie%252C%2BHertha%2Band%2BAlex-enhanced.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="606" data-original-width="508" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XFHzLR2DnCA/YVpb6P9QDCI/AAAAAAAAYzI/AHUgYm_l5n41c-Wa0qPvp1P15Zu3JHtJwCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Kolberg%252C%2BHenry%252C%2BOttillie%252C%2BHertha%2Band%2BAlex-enhanced.jpg" width="268" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i><br /></i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--9UpJCRqc2w/YVpb-59gDCI/AAAAAAAAYzM/inCH6O1qo5UOuMWWym1kwWxJzjtixBMYQCNcBGAsYHQ/s720/Kolberg%252C%2BHenry%2B%2526%2BTillie%2Bhome%2Bon%2BCleveland%2BAvenue%2Bin%2BStevensville%252C%2BMI%2Bnow%252C%2B08-10-11b.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="720" height="213" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--9UpJCRqc2w/YVpb-59gDCI/AAAAAAAAYzM/inCH6O1qo5UOuMWWym1kwWxJzjtixBMYQCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Kolberg%252C%2BHenry%2B%2526%2BTillie%2Bhome%2Bon%2BCleveland%2BAvenue%2Bin%2BStevensville%252C%2BMI%2Bnow%252C%2B08-10-11b.JPG" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><p></p><p><b style="font-family: arial;"><i>Another Kolberg brother, Otto, and his wife, Alvina, nee Truhn, also farmed in Berrien County though their farm was in the village of Baroda, Michigan. They grew berries on their farm and their farm produced such an over-abundance of fruit that family from Germany came each year to visit and to help pick the fruit. It was through memories of descendants of Otto and Alvina that I was able to connect with Kolberg cousins still living in Germany.</i></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Following is a photo of Otto and Alvina on their 25th wedding anniversary in Baroda, Michigan:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OIX2N290BUI/YVpXbO6dR0I/AAAAAAAAYyg/EO_dnT25LsQAm2oqm3tXNUI4MWlrrg8PgCNcBGAsYHQ/s880/Kolberg%252C%2BOtto%2Band%2BAlvina%2Bsilver%2Banniversary.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="880" data-original-width="598" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OIX2N290BUI/YVpXbO6dR0I/AAAAAAAAYyg/EO_dnT25LsQAm2oqm3tXNUI4MWlrrg8PgCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Kolberg%252C%2BOtto%2Band%2BAlvina%2Bsilver%2Banniversary.jpg" width="217" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>August, Henry and Otto Kolberg's younger brother, Paul Kolberg, and his wife, Augusta, nee Zuhl, also farmed in Stevensville, Michigan. Their farm was on Cleveland Avenue and their home is still standing today. The windows on the second floor of the home opened up to a part of the roof where their younger daughter, Mildred, told me she used to climb out on when she was trying to avoid her father's anger. Paul's wife, Augusta, had passed away at a young age when Mildred wasn't even 2 years old and it was quite a challenge for Paul to raise his younger children by himself. </i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Following is a photo of Paul and Augusta Kolberg on their wedding day followed by a photo of Paul with his family in approximately 1955:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V4kOOjkEyMA/YVpY8POvp3I/AAAAAAAAYyo/QTb32rRpK8INaWIWsz2uMr03nfiBowMlgCNcBGAsYHQ/s674/Kolberg%252C%2BPaul%2Band%2BAugusta%2Bwedding-enhanced.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="674" data-original-width="486" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V4kOOjkEyMA/YVpY8POvp3I/AAAAAAAAYyo/QTb32rRpK8INaWIWsz2uMr03nfiBowMlgCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Kolberg%252C%2BPaul%2Band%2BAugusta%2Bwedding-enhanced.jpg" width="231" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GANiOzHC7BY/YVpZBc_L-CI/AAAAAAAAYys/To1qkKwAzu8cWHWVn7l2boduZt6OB4bjQCNcBGAsYHQ/s896/Kolberg%252C%2BPaul%2Band%2Bfamily%2B3.jpg.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="848" data-original-width="896" height="303" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GANiOzHC7BY/YVpZBc_L-CI/AAAAAAAAYys/To1qkKwAzu8cWHWVn7l2boduZt6OB4bjQCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Kolberg%252C%2BPaul%2Band%2Bfamily%2B3.jpg.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><i>The youngest Kolberg brother, Ferdinand, and his wife, Helena, nee Mielke, also had a farm in Baroda, Michigan very near older brother Otto's farm. Ferdinand and Helena had both been born in Germany and married there as well. They came to the US in 1910 with their 6 children long after his 4 older brothers had immigrated. At first they stayed with older brother Henry and his wife Tillie on their farm but later were able to purchase farm property of their own. </i></p><p><i>Following are photos of Ferdinand and Helena standing by their home in Baroda:</i></p><p><i></i></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-e_8qqj5UfjA/YVpaXMqXmeI/AAAAAAAAYy4/g0zXrix3DG8uTIKs94dg_AW5pak9RVeIwCNcBGAsYHQ/s772/Kolberg%252C%2BFerdinand%2Band%2BHelena.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="772" data-original-width="520" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-e_8qqj5UfjA/YVpaXMqXmeI/AAAAAAAAYy4/g0zXrix3DG8uTIKs94dg_AW5pak9RVeIwCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Kolberg%252C%2BFerdinand%2Band%2BHelena.jpg" width="216" /></a></i></div><i><br /> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IIjnFkN8FsU/YVpad0YXgbI/AAAAAAAAYy8/O7pKDJOixSg-yHCsonP4dhXRj5OZ3NAdgCNcBGAsYHQ/s720/Kolberg%252C%2BFerdinand%2Band%2BHelena2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="506" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IIjnFkN8FsU/YVpad0YXgbI/AAAAAAAAYy8/O7pKDJOixSg-yHCsonP4dhXRj5OZ3NAdgCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Kolberg%252C%2BFerdinand%2Band%2BHelena2.jpg" width="225" /></a></div><br /></i><p></p><i>Of the five Kolberg brothers who immigrated to the US the only one that I don't have information on their farm is my own great-grandfather, August, and his wife, Bertha, nee Kramp. I do know from a plat map that they did have a farm in Stevensville, Michigan but the current location of the property today has been difficult to ascertain. </i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>To give my great-grandparents, August and Bertha, equal coverage, following is a photo of them with their two oldest daughters in approximately 1889:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hCPtLk5AW9k/YVpc7T2ZTaI/AAAAAAAAYzY/ufwrw6nuUrQ8WhS_hw4f_09G1KofLskIQCNcBGAsYHQ/s1204/Kolberg%252C%2BAugust%2Band%2BBertha%2BKramp%2Bwith%2BHedwig%2Band%2BAmelia%2BKolberg%252C%2BSt.%2BJoseph%252C%2BMichigan%252C%2Bca%2B1889.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1204" data-original-width="793" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hCPtLk5AW9k/YVpc7T2ZTaI/AAAAAAAAYzY/ufwrw6nuUrQ8WhS_hw4f_09G1KofLskIQCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Kolberg%252C%2BAugust%2Band%2BBertha%2BKramp%2Bwith%2BHedwig%2Band%2BAmelia%2BKolberg%252C%2BSt.%2BJoseph%252C%2BMichigan%252C%2Bca%2B1889.jpg" width="211" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>In conclusion, on August 16, 1953, on the occasion of the 84th birthday of Paul Kolberg, the three remaining brothers were photographed together. From left to right they are Otto Kolberg, 86 years old, Paul Kolberg, 84 years old and Ferdinand Kolberg, 81 years old. The occasion elicited an article in the local paper which stated that all three brothers had immigrated to the US from Klein Tuchen, Kreis Bütow, Pommern, Germany between 1880-1910, all had been widowed and each of the three brothers were now making their home with a daughter - Otto Kolberg with his daughter, Grace Gaul, Paul Kolberg with his daughter, Edna Kolberg, and Ferdinand Kolberg with his daughter, Selma Jung:</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Jn-rIgVNUgY/YVpfsqlV2MI/AAAAAAAAYz4/utxzFWygU60G8U9RKYm2HcRXh1z7kqmoACNcBGAsYHQ/s398/Kolberg%2BBrothers%252C%2BOtto%252C%2BPaul%2Band%2BFerdinand%2B8-16-53-enhanced.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="318" data-original-width="398" height="256" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Jn-rIgVNUgY/YVpfsqlV2MI/AAAAAAAAYz4/utxzFWygU60G8U9RKYm2HcRXh1z7kqmoACNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Kolberg%2BBrothers%252C%2BOtto%252C%2BPaul%2Band%2BFerdinand%2B8-16-53-enhanced.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /></b></span><b style="background-color: #c6dafc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 17.6px; font-style: italic;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU4CEZoKpx7WZ7XdzPMI4ygp5MWFSXsS198odOqkAHKj9oZ3EhCIDf4Eux-tBZAuFkBtz-7Z9DaMQNwCLY9MRnOO3VnLrBBQr2q1dVKFT7zwDyppw4nAkdq9VueYhgJ7cyrVY0zKxGz7w/s474/Kijak%252C+Ella+playing+organ.jpg" style="color: black; display: inline; padding: 1em 0px;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial; font-size: xx-small;">Copyright 2021, Cheryl J. Schulte</b></a></i></b><span style="background-color: #c6dafc; font-family: arial; font-size: 17.6px; font-style: italic; font-weight: 700;"> </span><p></p>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970548713593980384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5517427187577726662.post-85880792954791527882021-09-06T18:17:00.082-04:002021-10-01T19:11:35.146-04:0052 Ancestors in 52 Weeks - Week 36 "Working"<p><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial;"><b><i><u>TWO GENERATIONS OF GENERAL STORE OWNERS</u></i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>If I were to do a comparison of my various ancestors and the occupations they had I would find invariably that most were farmers both in Europe and in the US. There was a butcher thrown in here and a blacksmith thrown in there but the majority were farmers. An honest occupation for sure and one that was sorely needed but the farmers needed somewhere to market their crops in the 1800's and early 1900's in America. That would be where the General Stores came in.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>In my ancestry I have 2 generations of General Store owners and the stories are interesting, historical and challenging to research. My paternal grandmother, Ella Wellhausen Schulte, lived well into her 90's and I had many opportunities to tap into her memories of her ancestors. She told me many times about the General Store that her parents had and in which she and her older sister lived as young girls. Taking the meager information I had from her I was able to discover some interesting facts.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>My second great-grandparents, Charles and Christina (Graumann) Wellhausen, were both born in Germany in the Pomeranian county of Demmin with Charles being born in the village of Alt Kentzlin and Christina born in the neighboring village of Hohenbollentin. These villages are still in Germany in what later became the DDR. Charles and Christina married in 1860 at the Evangelical Church in Hohenbollentin and their first two daughters, Bertha and Augusta, were also born there in 1860 and 1862 respectively. Here is a photo of the Evangelical Church in Hohenbollentin from when I visited the area in August, 1993:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7zIHk5NIfc4/YVeK3_aH4rI/AAAAAAAAYxU/-sr1nL_4sDo4GYOM3FrGBGA9mdOKH1XcQCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Hohenbollentin%252C%2BKr.%2BDemmin%252C%2BGermany%252C%2B1993%2Bb.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1396" data-original-width="2048" height="218" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7zIHk5NIfc4/YVeK3_aH4rI/AAAAAAAAYxU/-sr1nL_4sDo4GYOM3FrGBGA9mdOKH1XcQCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Hohenbollentin%252C%2BKr.%2BDemmin%252C%2BGermany%252C%2B1993%2Bb.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>When Bertha was 3 years old and Augusta 6 months Charles and Christina decided to immigrate to the United States. Accompanying them was Christina's mother, Christina (Neider) Graumann. They arrived in the US on the ship Saxonia on April 19, 1864 settling in the village of Fraser in Macomb County in Michigan where their next daughter, Caroline, was born in 1866. Information found indicates the next 3 children, Anna, George and Edward, were born in 1867, 1869 and 1872 respectively in what was then known as Greenfield Township in Wayne County, Michigan. Following this they evidently moved back to Macomb County because their last child, son Charles, Jr., was born in Fraser in 1876. Whether Charles was farming at the time, first in Fraser, then in Greenfield Township is unknown but it is assumed that he was. However, upon relocating back to Fraser prior to the 1876 birth of their last child, Charles and Christina were able to purchase a large farm in what is now Clinton Township. The 1880 Macomb County, Michigan US census corroborates the family were living in Clinton Township, Michigan and Charles was a farmer.</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>With more daughters than sons Charles naturally was assuming that his 3 sons would help him on the farm and Edward is known to have done so. Son George, however, was not a well man with bronchial ailments and farming played havoc with his health.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>On February 14, 1895 in Fraser, Michigan son George Wellhausen married Amelia Schluessler at St. John's Lutheran Church. They were my great-grandparents. Later in 1895 their first daughter, Gertrude, was born in Fraser and in 1896 their second daughter, my grandmother, Ella, was born.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>The 1895 Atlas of Macomb County, Michigan reproduced in November, 1985 by the St. Clair Shores Historical Commission in St. Clair Shores, Michigan contains some sketches of prominent farms in the area in 1895 along with photos of the owners. In this volume in 1985 I was delighted to find the farm of my 2nd great-grandparents, Charles and Christina Wellhausen, along with pictures of both. This is the only photo I have of Charles. Their farm was listed as having been in Section 29 of Clinton Township in that year of 1895:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkPmBQEaIS5RmheF6z-ODEDyIL31V80BmOLSqWAOddnwEitB0KdXi4SAoMQVB3lY9gy3wbA_olFzJ83-4i9_R2wtmcwEjgAmtGbjE-2W0dioNsvdYDcNOkAh2JKlxXrylhxgE3hvIJrWk/s2048/Wellhausen+farm+1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1583" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkPmBQEaIS5RmheF6z-ODEDyIL31V80BmOLSqWAOddnwEitB0KdXi4SAoMQVB3lY9gy3wbA_olFzJ83-4i9_R2wtmcwEjgAmtGbjE-2W0dioNsvdYDcNOkAh2JKlxXrylhxgE3hvIJrWk/s320/Wellhausen+farm+1.jpg" width="247" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>In early 1900 Detroit Creamery was buying up farms in Clinton Township attempting to corner the milk market. Charles and Christina decided to sell their farm to the creamery as they were both now 67 and undoubtedly farming was becoming more than they could handle. As part of the arrangement they retained ownership of the farm house which to this day still is standing on what is now called Moravian Drive in Clinton Township. To have an ancestral home still in existence some 121+ years later is very exciting.</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxz-gmBZ21y6c0rT5vrUhpcDPwvImoWFjSaG-M0mQS1pFC0G_NaIyQi4mFRh0jR0n20MCaEksRU75MjlgNPEuVcV9Rsu82GF3sNuK8piEI0KGtSXALQ2eTMj1Zb9AbUWO9snl9j3Ivmlo/s1737/Wellhausen%252C+Charles+%2526+Christina%252C+Moravian+Drive+Home%252C+Clinton+Township%252C+MI%252C+2012.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1213" data-original-width="1737" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxz-gmBZ21y6c0rT5vrUhpcDPwvImoWFjSaG-M0mQS1pFC0G_NaIyQi4mFRh0jR0n20MCaEksRU75MjlgNPEuVcV9Rsu82GF3sNuK8piEI0KGtSXALQ2eTMj1Zb9AbUWO9snl9j3Ivmlo/s320/Wellhausen%252C+Charles+%2526+Christina%252C+Moravian+Drive+Home%252C+Clinton+Township%252C+MI%252C+2012.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>Shortly after selling their farm in early 1900, Charles and Christina purchased a small general store in a nearby village known then as Cady's Corners. They gave this store to my great-grandparents, George and Amelia, who ran it. This was much less taxing on George's health than farming had been. George and Amelia ran this General Store until 1905 and then moved to Utica, Michigan where George ran a "jitney" service which we now would call a taxi service. There in Utica, George and Amelia had their 3rd and final child, a son they named George as well who was born in 1906.</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>My grandmother always spoke of Cady's Corners to me. She told me that their General Store was on one corner and a "beer garden" as she always referred to a bar was on another corner. In researching this little village I learned that Cady's Corners was an area first settled in 1833 with a post office being established on July 15, 1864. The post office operated until July 31, 1906 when the village was disbanded. Today the former area of Cady's Corners can be found at what is Moravian and Utica Roads in Clinton Township, Michigan. </i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Following is a photo of George and Amelia Wellhausen's General Store in Cady's Corners, Michigan, ca 1905:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-88iCQk7wy90/YVePHXMTUzI/AAAAAAAAYxs/P1CEbihBQAE3IZoBH-zTQ-tgsoYY_b9TQCNcBGAsYHQ/s1417/Wellhausen%252C%2BGeorge%2B%2526%2BAmelia%2BGeneral%2BStore%2Bat%2BCady%2527s%2BCorner.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="591" data-original-width="1417" height="133" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-88iCQk7wy90/YVePHXMTUzI/AAAAAAAAYxs/P1CEbihBQAE3IZoBH-zTQ-tgsoYY_b9TQCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Wellhausen%252C%2BGeorge%2B%2526%2BAmelia%2BGeneral%2BStore%2Bat%2BCady%2527s%2BCorner.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>While living in Utica, Michigan great-grandpa George was an upstanding citizen and involved in local politics. He was Utica's Clerk in the years 1917-1918 and was Mayor of Utica from 1920-1921.</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>In 1924 the local Kroger store in Utica needed a manager and George and Amelia persuaded their 18 year old son, George, Jr., to apply for the position where he was hired, becoming the youngest manager that Kroger ever had. Son George remained with Kroger's as their manager for 24 years. In 1948, an opportunity arose for George, Jr. and his wife Eleanor to purchase a General Store at 24 Mile Road and Van Dyke in a village that was known then as Disco, Michigan. The store had been built in the mid 1850's and not only was a general store but also a gas station and in the early days a stage coach stop. Originally it had sleeping quarters on the second floor for travelers and supposedly General George Custer stayed there on one occasion. </i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PvRWp7oG1Ts/YVeP9kiZKeI/AAAAAAAAYx0/gJLr7DR-PooiGFc-slJg9uVg5IBUkjPUwCNcBGAsYHQ/s1497/Wellhausen%252C%2BGeorge%2Band%2BEleanor%252C%2BGeneral%2BStore%252C%2BUtica%252C%2BMI%252C%2B1977.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="983" data-original-width="1497" height="210" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PvRWp7oG1Ts/YVeP9kiZKeI/AAAAAAAAYx0/gJLr7DR-PooiGFc-slJg9uVg5IBUkjPUwCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Wellhausen%252C%2BGeorge%2Band%2BEleanor%252C%2BGeneral%2BStore%252C%2BUtica%252C%2BMI%252C%2B1977.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>After much deliberation George, Jr. resigned from his position at Kroger's and he and Eleanor purchased the above General Store which they owned from 1948 until 1970. One of the big draws in this Wellhausen General Store was the home made German Pomeranian Teewurst sausage that they made there. It was certainly a family delicacy and people came from near and far to purchase the sausage. The recipe for the sausage came from my great-grandmother, Amelia Wellhausen, who had learned this recipe from her Pomeranian Schluessler ancestors. Teewurst is a sausage made from two parts of raw pork, sometimes beef, and one part bacon which are minced, seasoned and packed in casings before being smoked over beech wood. The sausage had to mature for 7-10 days in order to develop its typical taste and contained 30-40% fat. I never had the privilege of tasting the teewurst sausage but sausage and I are not friends so it is just as well.</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>My great-aunt and uncle, George, Jr. and Eleanor Wellhausen, had this General Store until 1970 when they sold it for $68,000. Under the new ownership it went into disrepair and was soon closed.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Despite the efforts of the local historical association to raise money to move the store to an area nearby that had other historical buildings, the store was demolished.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Today a huge CVS store is at the location of 24 Mile Road and Van Dyke with the land purchased for $650,000!</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>All in all I thoroughly enjoyed the research and discoveries that went into this post. I think it is a valuable piece of my family ancestry that deserved to be shared.</i></b></span></p><p><b style="background-color: #c6dafc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 17.6px; font-style: italic;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU4CEZoKpx7WZ7XdzPMI4ygp5MWFSXsS198odOqkAHKj9oZ3EhCIDf4Eux-tBZAuFkBtz-7Z9DaMQNwCLY9MRnOO3VnLrBBQr2q1dVKFT7zwDyppw4nAkdq9VueYhgJ7cyrVY0zKxGz7w/s474/Kijak%252C+Ella+playing+organ.jpg" style="color: black; display: inline; padding: 1em 0px;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial; font-size: xx-small;">Copyright 2021, Cheryl J. Schulte</b></a></i></b><span style="background-color: #c6dafc; font-family: arial; font-size: 17.6px; font-style: italic; font-weight: 700;"> </span></p>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970548713593980384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5517427187577726662.post-16050301685458797082021-08-30T22:05:00.045-04:002021-10-06T22:25:24.219-04:0052 Ancestors in 52 Weeks - Week 35 "School"<p><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial;"><b><i><u>TRINITY LUTHERAN SCHOOL, 1932-1933</u></i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>When my mother was growing up, the family church was Trinity Lutheran in St. Joseph, Michigan. Both my mother, Eloris Kijak, and her younger brother, Leslie Kijak, were baptized at Trinity Lutheran, attended the grade school, were confirmed there and my parents were married there as well. </i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>In the grade school year 1932-1933, a school picture was taken outside in front of the school and church and the picture was something that many families had. My mother kept her picture, which was rolled into a scroll, all her life. I have that scroll now.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Because of its size and the heavier stock of the paper the scroll has seen some of the ravages of time. I was able to scan the scroll into two images and enhance it so that it is a little easier to see.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>The children were arranged by grade. In the bottom row, at the far right edge is my uncle, Leslie Kijak, who was in the 1st grade. I have marked his name under his picture. He appears on both images on the right end in image number 1 and on the left end in image number 2. I did this so that I could be assured that I was cropping the scroll appropriately.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>My mother is in row two as she was in the 2nd grade at that time. I placed her name ABOVE her picture and her picture is centered under her name. I didn't want to obscure any faces of the children so it was not the easiest to mark her photo. </i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Many of my mother's Kolberg cousins were also in the photo all the way through to the 8th grade. It is fun to look at these little faces and try to point out the various cousins that I only knew as adults.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>I would love to know who the little boy in the 4th row from the bottom is as he is yawning as the photo is taken! I'm thinking his parents were not too happy with him.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>I would love to have this photo restored in some fashion but have been unable to find any company able to do it. In any case I have it securely in a large art portfolio where it lies flat. </i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>It is a really special piece of my mother's history.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WMXdCL1GBAY/YV5ZXB6ZLRI/AAAAAAAAY4A/0W30nNpoY-MVPJL5g-Ga3bOd_w_O-kQjQCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Trinity%2BLutheran%2BSchool%2BClass%2BPhoto%2B1932-1933%252C%2Bpage%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1273" data-original-width="2048" height="199" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WMXdCL1GBAY/YV5ZXB6ZLRI/AAAAAAAAY4A/0W30nNpoY-MVPJL5g-Ga3bOd_w_O-kQjQCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Trinity%2BLutheran%2BSchool%2BClass%2BPhoto%2B1932-1933%252C%2Bpage%2B1.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rCQa9Cglneo/YV5ZXFqAHLI/AAAAAAAAY38/TWnRurLH27oUX3PpsApHyiitpwTED7mJQCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Trinity%2BLutheran%2BSchool%2BClass%2BPhoto%2B1932-1933%252C%2Bpage%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1253" data-original-width="2048" height="196" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rCQa9Cglneo/YV5ZXFqAHLI/AAAAAAAAY38/TWnRurLH27oUX3PpsApHyiitpwTED7mJQCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Trinity%2BLutheran%2BSchool%2BClass%2BPhoto%2B1932-1933%252C%2Bpage%2B2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div></b></span><b style="background-color: #c6dafc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 17.6px; font-style: italic;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU4CEZoKpx7WZ7XdzPMI4ygp5MWFSXsS198odOqkAHKj9oZ3EhCIDf4Eux-tBZAuFkBtz-7Z9DaMQNwCLY9MRnOO3VnLrBBQr2q1dVKFT7zwDyppw4nAkdq9VueYhgJ7cyrVY0zKxGz7w/s474/Kijak%252C+Ella+playing+organ.jpg" style="color: black; display: inline; padding: 1em 0px;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial; font-size: xx-small;">Copyright 2021, Cheryl J. Schulte</b></a></i></b><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span><p></p>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970548713593980384noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5517427187577726662.post-31379953028559136282021-08-23T22:02:00.065-04:002021-09-29T22:21:58.436-04:0052 Ancestors in 52 Weeks - Week 34 "Character"<p><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial;"><b><i><u>THE HUMOROUS MELBOURNE SCHULTE, SR.</u></i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>My paternal uncle, Melbourne Schulte, Sr., was one of the most humorous people I knew. He was a character of great proportions, always ready with a funny story, joke and a ready smile. </i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i>Melbourne was born on September 27, 1920 in Detroit to Elmer Schulte and Ella Wellhausen. He was happily welcomed into the Schulte family where photos were plentiful. Here he is with his parents in early 1921:</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zd4Iou1e_-U/YVUbpWXH8wI/AAAAAAAAYwQ/AMto5bRH_QwB_JTad7JlLn9nWHjQNWDGACNcBGAsYHQ/s1224/Schulte%252C%2BElmer%252C%2BElla%2B%2526%2BMelbourne.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="904" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zd4Iou1e_-U/YVUbpWXH8wI/AAAAAAAAYwQ/AMto5bRH_QwB_JTad7JlLn9nWHjQNWDGACNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Schulte%252C%2BElmer%252C%2BElla%2B%2526%2BMelbourne.jpg" width="236" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /><i>Being the oldest of three children he was known for his spontaneous jokes and naughty behavior. This photo in 1935 is a favorite of mine where he is shown with his younger brother, my father Mylen, and younger sister, Marilyn. I'm sure his parents had to take another photo after this one:</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTy61-aAf2hRhbxLCyi067ORnX-RejLLj8bnew7YuCk47JRS4N-zLfY0-4qyG4jSnAU4ENOm6elxZ3lW33_7yXMU0PGOhjdlrzUSTL01rE995TE7zWxHQ3ob4HimL6T-ziQutDnjMqP0w/s2048/Schulte%252C+Melbourne%252C+Mylen%252C+Marilyn%252C+1935.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1301" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTy61-aAf2hRhbxLCyi067ORnX-RejLLj8bnew7YuCk47JRS4N-zLfY0-4qyG4jSnAU4ENOm6elxZ3lW33_7yXMU0PGOhjdlrzUSTL01rE995TE7zWxHQ3ob4HimL6T-ziQutDnjMqP0w/s320/Schulte%252C+Melbourne%252C+Mylen%252C+Marilyn%252C+1935.jpg" width="203" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i><p><b><i>In 1941 both my father and his brother, Melbourne, were ushers at the Rialto Theatre on Gratiot Avenue in Detroit. They were both proud of the uniforms they wore:</i></b></p><p><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-B78HCYvgGus/YVUck4UQhLI/AAAAAAAAYwg/kCjUGY0FYe4n14uGTtHxrOTZ63pizyTFQCNcBGAsYHQ/s864/Schulte%252C%2BMelbourne%2B%2526%2BMylen%2BRialto%2Btheatre%2Bushers%252C%2Bca%2B1941.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="584" data-original-width="864" height="216" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-B78HCYvgGus/YVUck4UQhLI/AAAAAAAAYwg/kCjUGY0FYe4n14uGTtHxrOTZ63pizyTFQCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Schulte%252C%2BMelbourne%2B%2526%2BMylen%2BRialto%2Btheatre%2Bushers%252C%2Bca%2B1941.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></div><b><br /><i>When I was born in 1948, my Uncle Mel became my godfather and that was an honor that he carried with him his entire life. I can still remember in his later years, when he would call me from Arizona where he and my aunt retired, that he would begin the conversation by saying "this is your godfather calling". I was very close to him his entire life. Here we are in 1948:</i></b><p></p><p><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKzXsWJlQECR3lBkLhWf1_hiIZZ-nqSasA61MbjfjTe0tELJlH2OGaDo440cEQAH6J5lklFKeo1yOdDR7ISx0cRW0wpi3dSbNH6nYeWQJNReTfoS39SH78BSgoV4jcoMXwTICmTpgbdVM/s1600/Schulte%252C+Melbourne+%2526+Cheryl%252C+ca+1949.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1584" data-original-width="1600" height="317" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKzXsWJlQECR3lBkLhWf1_hiIZZ-nqSasA61MbjfjTe0tELJlH2OGaDo440cEQAH6J5lklFKeo1yOdDR7ISx0cRW0wpi3dSbNH6nYeWQJNReTfoS39SH78BSgoV4jcoMXwTICmTpgbdVM/s320/Schulte%252C+Melbourne+%2526+Cheryl%252C+ca+1949.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></div><p><b><b>My uncle was a barber as was my father. Here he is in 1950 in the Barber Shop he ran on Gratiot Avenue in Detroit:</b></b></p><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TRXMRxk7kUE/YVUdXvICRJI/AAAAAAAAYww/tGGSd0-fTrwgeXdnbaq9X_86ShFM7Y57ACNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Melbourne%2BSchulte%2BBarber%2BShop%2B1950-1967.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1473" data-original-width="2048" height="230" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TRXMRxk7kUE/YVUdXvICRJI/AAAAAAAAYww/tGGSd0-fTrwgeXdnbaq9X_86ShFM7Y57ACNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Melbourne%2BSchulte%2BBarber%2BShop%2B1950-1967.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><b>Always the prankster he never lacked for some way to amuse people. In 1970 at a gathering at my parent's home he played a joke on his Uncle George Wellhausen by picking him up without difficulty. At least he didn't drop him:</b><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YcD9j6c7SO8/YVUdsOnG_KI/AAAAAAAAYw4/Ffg6uGurnE8d6We2wZw4orHrUiFcnZ7eACNcBGAsYHQ/s498/Schulte%252C%2BMelbourne%2Bwith%2BWellhausen%252C%2BGeorge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="438" data-original-width="498" height="281" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YcD9j6c7SO8/YVUdsOnG_KI/AAAAAAAAYw4/Ffg6uGurnE8d6We2wZw4orHrUiFcnZ7eACNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Schulte%252C%2BMelbourne%2Bwith%2BWellhausen%252C%2BGeorge.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Through the years we were constantly in touch even during the many years that he and my aunt lived in Arizona. Telephone calls were weekly, I baked him the favorite cookies that he and my aunt enjoyed and would mail them to Arizona causing him to choke at the price of the postage. He would always say "don't send us any cookies" but I always would and he was always appreciative as was my aunt.</p><p>After the death of my aunt he was lost. They had been married just 2 months short of 70 years and Arizona was no longer a joy for him. In 2013 he returned to Michigan to live with his son and daughter-in-law and in January of that year my mother and I visited him. Here he is with my mother:</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-A7U0PlY2pEo/YVUecy7MaHI/AAAAAAAAYxA/mzIYvTcIIF4yTdyJJGiNk3lAVLmK3wSmACNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Kijak%252C%2BEloris%2Band%2BMelbourne%2BSchulte%252C%2BMt.%2BClemens%252C%2BMichigan%252C%2BJanuary%2B13%252C%2B2013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1725" data-original-width="2048" height="270" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-A7U0PlY2pEo/YVUecy7MaHI/AAAAAAAAYxA/mzIYvTcIIF4yTdyJJGiNk3lAVLmK3wSmACNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Kijak%252C%2BEloris%2Band%2BMelbourne%2BSchulte%252C%2BMt.%2BClemens%252C%2BMichigan%252C%2BJanuary%2B13%252C%2B2013.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>He had aged but he was still the humorous uncle that I knew and loved. He passed away on April 9, 2013 and I miss him to this day. A warm, loving uncle and godfather and a character to the end.<p></p><p><b style="background-color: #c6dafc; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 17.6px;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU4CEZoKpx7WZ7XdzPMI4ygp5MWFSXsS198odOqkAHKj9oZ3EhCIDf4Eux-tBZAuFkBtz-7Z9DaMQNwCLY9MRnOO3VnLrBBQr2q1dVKFT7zwDyppw4nAkdq9VueYhgJ7cyrVY0zKxGz7w/s474/Kijak%252C+Ella+playing+organ.jpg" style="color: black; display: inline; padding: 1em 0px;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial; font-size: xx-small;">Copyright 2021, Cheryl J. Schulte</b></a></i></b> </p><p></p></i></b></span><p></p>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970548713593980384noreply@blogger.com0