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Images of beautiful Kilkenny! Blog posted separately below.

Ireland: Unapologetically Irish

You know that image of the rolling green hills with dividing little paddocks, separating the varying shades, that you think of when you think of Ireland. That image is translated from one’s head and placed into reality. It’s like looking out of the train window, right into a Home Depot paint aisle, except Home Depot only sells one color: 50 shades of it. It is absolutely incredible. Kilkenny is surrounded by those rolling hills of green.

I wasn’t in Ireland for long, but I am still going to make some broad unqualified statements about Ireland, and it’s purely based on my observations from those four days. (What a scary thought!)

The people of Kilkenny (and I am assuming Ireland as a whole too) are like the weather. The weather, like the people, is constantly changing. Sunshine one moment will not mean sunshine the next.

I love Germany and its culture and its people, but the people I met in Kilkenny and Dublin were a breathe of fresh air that I didn’t know I even needed. They were ridiculously open to talk about everything and anything with complete strangers, like … me.

On the train back to Dublin, I sat next to the cutest Irish grandparents, Gerry and Christine, who I happened to meet while exiting my hotel. We talked for almost two hours on the train with the conversation constantly shifting, just like the weather. We talked about that one specific painting in that one specific pub on that one specific side street. We talked about the Euro’s impact on Ireland. We talked about their four children and their two grandchildren (the youngest, Finn, just turned ten weeks old). We talked about American politics. We talked about the amount of ghosts in Ireland. They were absolutely shocked that I had not seen one during my time in Ireland. We talked about Chris’ recent walking club’s trip through Italy. (FYI: Rome is a dirty city, but it is worth the visit because of its history. Chris’ tip: don’t wear white shoes like she did.) We talked about Irish mythology with the promise that Gerry would email me an article that he liked on the subject. We hit it off so well that they even walked me to my bus stop, leaving me with a kiss on the cheek and a “the stars aligned to have met ya, love.”

So many of my interactions with Irish people went like this. All of them were genuine, not holding anything back, what you see is what you get. It is a point of Irish pride. In Dublin, even the hotel’s main advertisement was “no egos and no pretensions.” Smaller, more insignificant ones surrounded it, showcasing the special room offers.

I have been traveling alone for almost three weeks now. I talk to people, but it is mostly in passing. (Most common interaction: “yes, I would like my food for here. Thank you!) For the most part, I have been alone. (But even if I could have altered this and got to travel with others, I wouldn’t change it. This trip has taught me so much about myself and the world. A big reason for that is because I was alone.)

In Germany, everyone I met has only been nice and helpful, but quite guarded. I didn’t realize how much I wanted or even needed that genuine interaction until I came to Ireland.

Ireland and Kilkenny more specifically is a beautiful place, full of beautiful people. I cannot wait to go back.

I will keep posting on this blog, but it will be a lot less frequent. Thanks for following with me on my journey!

The Dwyer's in Ohio

Thomas was not in America long before his one other brother, James, hopped on over the next year in 1854. The brothers settled in Piqua, Ohio and the surrounding area, but they never forgot their home and family back in Ireland. The brothers put aside any extra money they earned, eventually saving enough to bring their mother, Bridget, and their three sisters, Mary, Catherine, and Margaret, over to join them in America.

Postcard of Piqua from a while ago.

I wonder what the situation was like for any citizen, let alone newly-minted immigrants, to live in such a divided America. The Civil War would finally break out just seven years after Thomas arrived in the land that was supposed to offer so much promise. One interesting fact I found out about Piqua during the Civil War is brought to you by Wikipedia: Virginia Senator and wealthy land owner John Randolph altered his will in 1833 that would emancipate his hundreds of slaves following his death. He even financed a project that would bring his former slaves to safety in Ohio, establishing an "African-American settlement" where they could live as free men. "This will was challenged but in 1846, his 383 slaves gained their freedom," settling just north of Piqua. Anyways, despite the conflict and divided state the country was in, I think I hope that America lived up to its expectations for the Dwyer's.

The 1880 US General Census of the Dwyer Family. Side note: part of why tracking down ancestry is so hard and knowing what is actually try is because of the fluidity of the facts. This Census is a great example: last name? Dewire. Misspelled by the Census worker. Also in debate, is the year that Thomas was born. Most documents I found say 1830, but an Irish baptism record says 1828. Which one is true?

The first (and only) census I found of Thomas is in 1880, as seen above. He was still living in Piqua, working as a day laborer. The biggest change was that this time he was married, married to Margaret Dowling, who also had immigrated from Ireland. They married when Thomas was 30 years old, and by 1880, they had already had their five children, all boys: William (b. 1865), James (b. 1867), John (b. 1869), Edward (b. 1871), and Joseph (b. 1873).

Above is a picture of Thomas and Margaret's fourth child, Edward, my great great grandfather.

Yet again, I end on the inevitable: DEATH. Thomas Dwyer died in 1897, when he was 67 years old.

Next time: More about Thomas' birthplace, Ireland and more specifically, Kilkenny!

Thomas Dwyer: One of the Many

On the way from Dublin to Kilkenny, I sat next to a nice Irish woman, and we got to talking. She asked me what I was doing in Kilkenny, and I told her about this ancestry project. After hearing that my (get ready for it: deep breathe) great great great grandfather's name was Thomas Dwyer, she laughed, joking that there were at least ten "Thomas Dwyers" on this train alone. She said that genealogy in Ireland is like trying to find a needle in a haystack, because there are so many repeating names, both first and last. She's not wrong! I received a copy of a hand drawn family tree of the Dwyer's (Thanks Great Uncle Jack!). It is beautiful and huge, but it seems like 99% of the parents were forced to choose their children's names from only this selection: Mary, Anna, Margaret, Edward, Thomas, William. (Okay- I admit it. That is an exaggeration... maybe just 90%.) To add to the difficulty, surnames are extremely regional in Ireland with all of the Dwyer's clumped together in County Kilkenny, Ireland, home of Kilkenny, the city. (See- even names of places repeat themselves...)

Image of Kilkenny's Castle above.

Anyways, my Thomas Dwyer was born to Thomas Dwyer (What a shocker! another Thomas????) and Bridget Wall (an actual shock: a different name!) on May 12, 1830 in Kilkenny, Ireland. Out of his many siblings, he was the first to leave Ireland for America, arriving in New Orleans in March 1853 when he was a young adult. He continued his journey even further, heading up the Mississippi until he reached Ohio, where he would end up raising him family.

Out of the ancestors that I am looking at for this project, the reasons of why Thomas would leave are more obvious to me than the others. For Thomas, I think one single event explains it. What you ask? The Great Famine that occurred from 1845-1849.

Image depicting the Great Famine in Ireland

Surprisingly, relatively few people from Kilkenny died of starvation during that time period, thanks to proactive workhouse governors. Starvation was not the people's poison, but the side-effects of overcrowding were. Kilkenny was and is still not a very wealthy area. In the mid-1800s, the workhouses had huge buildings for its poor workers to sleep in. Quite considerate, except it led to a lot of disease. But still the population halved from the beginning to the end of the 1800s. Gerry Moran's "Kilkenny: City and Country," states that "in 1831 Kilkenny city had a population of 23,741. By 1861, this had dropped to 14,000." The population would continue to plummet, dropping below 10,000 at the turn of the century as a result of a lack of industrialization and immigration.

To add to the devastation, Thomas' father, Thomas, died sometime when Thomas (the son) was a teenager, putting additional strain on the family's finances and ultimate survival.

View of Kilkenny from John's Bridge.

Next time (hopefully in less than an hour): Thomas's life in America and his continued link to Ireland.

Hannover: A Tale of War and Rebuilding

The word, odyssey, can be defined as a “long, adventurous journey,” and this odyssey project has lived up to its intended meaning. Traveling alone in a foreign country, especially as a 20-year-old American woman, has been a very vulnerable, but incredible experience that I would not change for the world. Being immersed in a very different culture, I wanted to maintain some sort of normalcy. That normalcy I found in my schedule.

The first full day I get into a new city, I always look for the tallest landmark near my hotel. Typically, it is a church or an administrative building. After wandering around the nearby area to get my bearings, I then search for a different tall building in the distance, and I start walking. It takes me off of the beaten path a bit, away from the main thoroughfares, and for that I am grateful. This process continues: I find more and more tall buildings in the horizon, and I become more and more in awe of my city discoveries. In my journeys, I have found hole-in-the-wall coffee shops, parks, street venders, small little regional shops, museums, etc. I always find my way back by looking up at the sky and seeing those vertical gems, my North Stars.

Marktkirche in Hannover, one of my “Northstars,” just a street over from my hotel

After that, I feel more comfortable with where I am, more like a local. I get the feeling that this place is where I am supposed to be. The following days, I walk with purpose and already know the places I want to meander my way back to.

Hannover was no different. My hotel was next to a beautiful and most importantly, tall church, the Marktkirche, a perfect North Star. After a bit of wandering, I found my next point in the distance, a tower of sorts, not knowing exactly what it would be. And it was pretty exceptional find.

But first a bit about Hannover:

Hannover’s New Town Hall, another of my “North Stars,” with a glistening skyscraper in the background.

Hanover is a thriving, cosmopolitan metropolis. Stepping off of the train, one is surrounded by shop after shop. It’s like being hit by a consumerist dream/nightmare depending on one’s perspective. All of the buildings are sleek and modern and shiny- a pretty sharp contrast from my slightly ridiculous notion of a “European dream city.” After a bit of searching though, traditional and beautiful old buildings can be found amidst the newness of it all, providing a reprieve from all of the glass and sharp edges. Don't get me wrong- Hanover is a beautiful city, but Hanover’s aggressively modern aesthetic was a bit overwhelming. I did not understand why the buildings almost seemed defiant. Then, I finally understood.

The skeleton of St. Aegidienkirche

That tall building I spotted in the distance turned out to be the skeleton of a church, the remnants of what was. The ruins of St. Aegidienkirche stands as a memorial for the victims of war and violence and a reminder of the devastation the entire city faced during the Second World War.

Another image of the church’s ruins

I found out that Hannover was a pretty easy bomb target in the war. It was an industrial and transportation center, so of course, the Allied forces would have wanted to weaken their foes by hitting its various powerhouses. The harder part to swallow comes with the intentional attacks on the residential areas. Both sides of the war were guilty of this.

Even though the city complied with “blackouts” (attempts to darken the entire city every night to not make itself a bombing target), the city was easily identifiable by plane. The Maschsee, a large lake, is in the city center, as well as many large, square gardens, which were not very easily hidden. During the war, over ninety percent of the heart of the city was destroyed over the course of 88 bombing raids, killing thousands of civilians and making countless more homeless and displaced.

The cross; a sculpture, “Humility”; the jagged white line, representing the thin line between life and death; “Unseren Toten”: Our Dead Ones

After coming across this beautiful memorial, I cannot help but think of Nietzsche’s saying: “beware that, when fighting monsters, you yourself do not become a monster.” I am not a pacifist, but it does not change the fact that war sucks. It negatively affects the bad guys and the good guys and the guilty and the innocent and the elderly and the children and everyone in between. It drives sides to greater and greater extremes in order to try to end the conflict faster, but too often those extremes erase one’s moral code, and too often those extremes hurt the innocent more than it does the war machine.

Directly outside of the church’s remains is a playground, full of children swinging and playing and laughing. I think that the city and its people decided to look towards the future rather than its past when rebuilding. That is why sleek futuristic buildings are more common than not in one of the nation’s great cities, and that is why Germany’s children, its future, can be found playing outside of a war memorial

Barney!

Bernard "Barney" Niehoff, my great-great-great grandfather was born ca. 1845 in Hanover, Germany, a large capital city in central northern Germany. Actually when Barney was born Hanover was the seat of the Kingdom of Hanover. How European is that! The Kingdom would later dissolve into Prussia in 1866 after the Austrian-Prussian War. Like Oldenburg, Hanover had its own royal family, a pretty famous one in fact, as its descendents became monarchs of Great Britain and Ireland.

Hannover's old town hall. One of the only buildings still standing in Hannover today that Barney probably would have seen.

I am becoming a broken record, but I do not know much about Barney's life before he immigrated to America. Like his wife, Dena, I have a pretty good guess that his father's name was Theodore. (Yay for informative death certificates!)

Map of Germany with Hannover pinpointed.

The first time I have any record of Barney is the 1860 US Federal Census, just a year before America's Civil War was about to start. He was 18 years old, living as a boarder in Hamilton, Ohio and working as a "Saddle Tree Maker." I do not know exactly what that is...

I have no clue when he came over or why he came over or how he came over. Did he come over as a child? or as a pre-teen? He was barely an adult himself when he was living in a foreign country with a different family. Like all immigrants, I do appreciate how brave that decision must have been.

The only picture I have of my great-great-great grandfather. (Sorry- bad joke! I don't have a real picture... Wish I did!)

After that, the information I know about him aligns with his wife, Oldenburg's Bernardina "Dena" Kronlage, who was mentioned previously. They married in 1875 and had five children. He worked as a diary man for most of life.

His wife died in 1914, after almost forty years of marriage. Barney lived for nineteen more years, dying in 1933, around the age of 88. He would never have to live to hear about his home town being decimated.

Oldenburg: the Ideal

With my American background, I have this image in my head whenever I think of a quintessential European city. (I blame it on years of watching House Hunters International.) This European dream city I concocted is large, but it still possesses a neighborhood atmosphere. And of course, this city is beautiful, lined with buildings that are at least five times older than America. The cobblestone streets somehow manage to be just as charming as the buildings themselves. There are no right angles anywhere with all of the buildings leaning on one another for support, and the streets have to zigzag to pave their way around the imposing castles, churches and the river that runs through the city. In this utopia, bicycles and good walking shoes replace the need for cars. There is constant activity from the violin player around the corner to the bustling shoppers to the coffee-drinkers who are chit-chatting outside the restaurant, even though it is just above freezing.

That European ideal that I created is real, guys. It is called Oldenburg, Germany. It was everything I imagined, plus some.

Just some of Oldenburg's perfect buildings.

Oldenburg is a vibrant and youthful city, even though it can trace its history back to the 700s. Everyone, from the unsteady four-year-olds to the successful adults to the fit grandparents, are on bikes. (Bike culture is so huge that the entire city center is completely pedestrian. There are just as many traffic lights for cars as there are for bikes.) There is a constant hustle and bustle about the city from the couples picking up fresh flowers at the local farmer's market to the people who just got off work and are heading to the nearby bakery to purchase fresh bread for the next day. Art is incorporated everywhere through the painted murals on the sides of buildings and the abundance of street artists.

Oldenburg's Culture: it's version of "graffiti", daily farmer's markets outside the main cathedral, bikes EVERYWHERE, and Beethoven portrayed through chalk.

Nature is also weaved through the city's identity. Other than the fact that everyone walks or bikes everywhere, a huge tract of green space was set aside for the people of Oldenburg, the castle gardens. The old castle is centrally located and has acres and acres of beautiful gardens that are sandwiched between two canals. Old buildings line its borders that just barely peek through the foliage.

Anyways, Oldenburg is pretty much perfect. Not that Hamilton, Ohio isn't a great city, but...

Transatlantic Journey: 2 weeks, $35*

*Approximate time frame and prices based on technology and economy in the 1870’s…

In 1871, Bernardina boarded the steamship, the “Berlin”, in Bremerhaven, a nearby port. She arrived in Baltimore that December. She was just 20 years old. I cannot get over the fact that that’s how old I am. What a courageous decision!

This image is a partial map of Germany, showing the city of Oldenburg and its proximity to Bremerhaven, or the harbor of Bremen.

Below is an advertisement of the steamship company, the Norddeutscher Lloyd, that Dena might have even seen. My great great great grandmother (man-that’s a doozy) was one of over two million passengers that used this shipping monopoly to immigrate to America around the turn of the twentieth century.

Based on the passenger list, I know she did not arrive with any relatives, as family members are listed quite obviously together. I just hope for her sake that maybe a friend was on board with her. Or that she had family to go to in America.

Above is a little snippet of her name on the passenger list. I cannot believe that the little information on this sheet was essentially enough for her to immigrate to America. What a sharp contrast to today’s world!

Somehow or another, Dena arrived in Baltimore then made her way over to Hamilton, Ohio, an industrial city on the outskirts of the Cincinatti area. The next time I found her is in 1875, the day she married Bernard “Barney” Niehoff. Barney was also a German immigrant, leaving his hometown of Hanover for America in the late 1860’s or so. (More about Barney later.) (Side note: isn’t it weird that a “Bernard” and a “Bernardina” married?...)

Above is an old postcard showing Hamilton’s city, circa 1911. Courtesy of: Wikipedia.

Over the course of their long marriage, they had five children together: Bernard, Anna, Mary, Bernardine, and Lillie. Barney worked as a dairyman, while Dena maintained their household. In the early 1900s, the family even had a boarder, living with them.

Above is an image of their second child, Anna Niehoff Schroeder, my great great grandmother.

After almost 40 years of marriage, Barney widowed after Dena died of apoplexy when she was 63 years old. (Gosh- I hate always ending with some relative’s death. It is inevitable when writing about ancestry though.)

Mid-1800s in Oldenburg: INTENSE (Militarization and Drastic Economic Change)

When trying to explain familial relations, it often times sounds like a joke where the punchline has been buried deep in the details. Exhibit A: Bernardina "Dena" Kronlage is... (get ready for it- deep breathe) my mother's father's mother's mother's mother. Anyway, that's how I am related to Dena.

Dena was born in January 1851 in Oldenburg, Germany, a large independent city in Lower Saxony. Unfortunately, I have not been able to find too much out about her life in Germany other than the fact I am pretty sure her father's name was Henry. BUT I did find out a bit about the city of Oldenburg during that time.

(WARNING: I am a German, International Relations double major, so this is my favorite time period to geek out on. With that, this post will only cover: German royalty, German economy, and my favorite, German militarization and consolidation.)

This is such a foreign concept to me (which makes sense because I am in a foreign country...), but Oldenburg had its own European royal house, logically called the House of Oldenburg, which was established in the mid-1400s. The image above is Schloss Oldenburg, or the castle of Oldenburg, where the monarchic family used to live. When Germany lost in the First World War in 1918, the German Empire and the Kingdom of Prussia was eradicated. With that also came the end of the House of Oldenburg. Now, the surprisingly yellow castle is a fantastic museum.

Above are images of the interior of the castle, a view of the church, and a snapshot of the castle's extensive gardens.

When Dena was a little girl, Oldenburg suffered a huge economic crisis (1857-1860). To recover from the recession, the area had to innovate. This led to a promotion of industry, primarily metalworking, textile manufacturing, and mechanical engineering. Industrialization was normal and expected during that time period, but I think it was particularly hard for Oldenburg. Before the economic collapse, Oldenburg was not very industrial; the city is almost completely surrounded by farmlands. In fact, agriculture still plays a large role today as a few farms are even found within the city limits. Because of the economic strain and changing times in the region, immigration to America was on the rise (though America was also undergoing similar economic change...).

Industrialization in NW Germany, as seen in Bernard Winter's "Ein Gießerei" (Landesmuseum fuer Kunst und Kulturgeschichte Oldenburg)

So, Dena was born during monarchic rule in Oldenburg and during drastic economic upheaval. She was also born during a time of rapid militarization. Napoleon's forces had occupied the area until 1814. To ensure that that would never happen again, Oldenburg wanted to reinforce itself by increasing its troops. On top of that, the mid-late 1800s marked the Kingdom of Prussia's rise, where Otto von Bismarck under the guise of the Kaiser, implemented intense Realpolitik (in plain English: lots of strategy, LOTS of military) in order to consolidate German power. When Dena was fifteen, the Prussian-Austrian war (1866) broke out. It was essentially a German Civil War where Oldenburg's Prussian regime ended up victorious. Five years later (1871), the year that Dena would immigrate to America (Spoiler Alert), Bismarck's Prussia would consolidate Germany under one rule, an incredible feat considering Germany's long history of having 300+ kingdoms.

The great strategist: Otto von Bismarck

Next time: Dena's immigration and life in America! (Nothing about German Militarization or Consolidation. At least not much. Promise.)

Meldorf: "the cultural heart of the Dithmarschen area"

Meldorf is a beautiful town in a beautiful area, nestled down in the low lands of the North Sea coast. It is known as the cultural epicenter of the Dithmarschen region, a small rural area, surrounded by canals, rivers, and of course, the North Sea that forms a sort of barrier between it and the rest of the world. From my readings and from my own observations, citizens of Meldorf are extremely proud of their heritage and their ancestral lands, as they should be. The region has a history of resilience, surprising autonomy, and agricultural success. (Fun fact: a majority of cabbage consumed in Europe comes from this small region.

The heart of the city is and has always been the cathedral, Sankt-Johannis-Kirche. Said to be built as early as 800, the church has represented a connection to God and to the Politics. The local rural farmers did not have enough money or time to support palaces and many administrative buildings, so they used the church to fill in the gaps. According to the scholar, Wikipedia,“ administration of spiritual and political matters was done by the same people in the same place, so little need for representative secular buildings arose.” On Sundays, the cathedral was used as a place of worship; on other days, the cathedral became a town hall, a meeting place, a market.

Depicting life in the 1800’s, this image shows a market surrounding the church, as seen in the local agricultural museum. While the cathedral has undergone some aesthetic changes over the years, the main structure has largely remained the same.

With every twist and turn of Meldorf’s streets, the church can be easily spotted in the background. The town was built around the impressive cathedral with every building framing and supporting its beauty.

Meldorf itself is undoubtedly stunning. All of the stone-paved streets and the town buildings have an understated charm about them.

Meldorf’s buildings were primarily built for function rather than design in order to last for hundreds, even thousands of years. Decoration though is incorporated in the form of interesting rooflines, fun colors, and geometric patterns.

That quiet beauty in sharp contrast to the grandness of the cathedral is partly why Sankt-Johannis-Kirche seems especially incredible. Meldorf is understated and quaint, but its church is large and grandiose. It is obvious that the town did not spare any expense when it came to building and designing the cathedral.

But it seems to be well worth the cost. After all, the church is not only Meldorf’s pride and joy, but also its heart.

Auf wiedersehen, Nicolaus Andreas! and hello, Nicholas Andrew!

Based on very logical guesstimations, I believe that Nicolaus moved over in the early 1880's when he was around 20 years old. Most of the immigration from Meldorf and the surrounding area took place between 1881 and 1882, using the Hamburg port. The image below, "Auswanderer", was taken at the local Dithmarschen Landesmuseum, a regional agricultural museum. It explains that disproportionate demographic growth, unhappiness with the political situation, and the sudden changes of the worker-employment relationships, especially in the countryside all led to a mass exodus of sorts.

The first documentation I found of Nicholas Andrew Dreier was on April 20, 1887, the day of his marriage to Marie Petersen in Chicago, Illinois.

Here is a picture of Marie before she immigrated to America. I don't know too much about her life prior to America, but the photo was taken at by a photographer in Husum, Germany. The picture below shows that the two cities are relatively close... I wonder if they formed their friendship over their shared North Sea heritage.

Within ten years of their marriage, they had four children: Lillian Margaret (1888- 1975), Mary Magdalena (1890-1990), Andrew Nicholas (1892- 1962), and Florence Henrietta (1895- 1928).

First Row: Marie, Florence, and Nicholas; Second Row: Mary, Andrew, and Lillie

Nicholas worked at a variety of different places in Chicago: as a mailroom clerk, as an expressman, and as a businessman, while Marie was a stay-at-home mother. Out of the their four children, they only had one grandchild, my grandmother. Both Marie and Nicholas lived well into their 60's, having lived very full and interesting lives.

About Nicholas and Marie's children:

Lillie married John Campbell McLeod in 1914 when she was 25. They did not have any children. Unfortunately, she was widowed in 1948 and spent the rest of her life living with her sister, Mary. Here is a picture of her and her husband on their wedding day:

Her new husband, John, looks especially thrilled...

Mary worked as a bookkeeper at the department store, Spiegel's, in Chicago, never married, or had any children. She was very interested and even influential in the local city politics. One of my dad's stories of her is that she was determined to live until she was at least 100. She died one day after for 100th birthday.

Andrew, my great grandfather, married my great grandmother, Ethel Irene Peterson, when he was 28. She was a principal, and he was a milkman. They raised their only child, my grandmother, Ethel Irene, in Chicago, and then moved to Red Wing, Minnesota in the late 1940's.

Florence never attended school, or even moved out of the house. I am assuming she was ill, but I do not know much about her other than that.

#HendrixCollege

Repeat: Nicholas Andrew, Andrew Nicholas

One tradition in my family is that the first born son is either Nicholas Andrew or Andrew Nicholas, flip-flopping with every generation. I always assumed that that tradition lasted for... well ever. If for... well ever is since 1861, then I would be correct. The name switcheroo is on its fourth generation currently (skipping my grandmother who was an only child).

The first Nicholas Andrew was Nicolaus Andreas, born to a Mr. Johann Nicolaus Dreier and Magdalena Finke Dreier on March 9, 1861 in Meldorf, Germany. On today's adventure throughout his hometown, I was able to look through old microfilms in a stereotypically dusty basement and found quite a few records about him and his family.

Here is Nicolaus Andreas' official baptismal record:

Above is Sankt-Johannis Kirche, where Nicolaus was baptized.

From my research, I found that Johann and Magdalena also had three other children: Christian, Magdalena, and August. Unfortunately, when Nicolaus was only 4 years old, his mother passed away. She was only 34 at the time. About a year later, Nicolaus' father married again. Johann and his new wife, Anna Margaretha Bremmer, had two children together: Margaretha and Marie.

Out the six children Johann had, four of them immigrated to the United States in the 1880's. (August and Marie remained in Meldorf.) The siblings arrived in Chicago where they would live for the rest of their lives, as their children did.

Next time on Serial : Andrew Nicholas's life in Chicago

#HendrixCollege #HendrixOdyssey #WhoDoIThinkIAm?#Meldorf #AndrewNicholasDreier

Ethnicity Estimate, aka magic

Like most Caucasian Americans, my ancestry always seemed more like a recipe that a grandmother knew by heart but never bothered to write down than anything else. I had always thought that my recipe consisted of equal parts German and English, some Irish thrown in for good measure and a little French for garnish. Turns out, I was kind of a lot wrong.

With a little bit of spit, I found out that I am actually almost half British, a lot Scandinavian, a sprinkle of Western European and Irish…

Most everything (Great Britain, Europe West, and Ireland) makes sense to me, especially as I am slowly but surely filling in more and more of my family tree, but the Scandinavia component completely blindsided me at first. I became obsessed with this. I had never ever heard Scandinavia and my family history in the same story. EVER.

My obsession morphed into research. Apparently, a lot of Irish have Scandinavian blood… from when the Vikings went on their conquest to put it nicely. That wasn’t good enough for me… yeah- some Viking guys came to Ireland a long time ago, wrecked havoc, and approximately 32% of my genealogy is Scandinavian? There had to be more to the story. This surprisingly fueled more research.

One of my “dead ends” in my family tree was my great-grandmother Ethel Irene Dreier’s parents. During this genealogy craze, I, well okay- my Mom, happened upon my dad’s baby book. There, my grandmother listed the baby’s relatives, including Ethel Irene Dreier’s parents! I have never loved my grandmother more.

Thanks to my grandmother’s diligence, I found out that her grandparents were August Victor Peterson and Clara Louise Swanson, both immigrants from Sweden. The first records I found of August Peterson are from the 1910 US General Census in Chicago, Illinois. He was 47 years old, living in a boarding house with his 14 year old daughter, Ethel, and working as a shoe salesman. Marriage Status? Widowed. I cannot imagine how hard that must have been for him. He lived until he was 73 and was able to watch his daughter become a school teacher, marry, and have a kid of her own, my grandmother.

I haven’t been able to find much more unfortunately. Part of the problem is that my father is a third-generation single child. He was an only child, my grandmother was an only child, and Ethel Irene Peterson was an only child. As my grandmother and my great-grandmother have both died, there really isn’t anyone to ask. This has done little to stop my growing obsession with August and Clara though. Hopefully I will be reporting more soon!

Next time: Nicholas Andrew Dreier’s Meldorf!

#HendrixCollege HendrixOdyssey #WhoDoIThinkIAm?#myhullitage #AugustVPeterson

A Hendrix Odyssey

Hendrix College’s motto is “Unto the Whole Person.” That motto can be seen in the classroom, but maybe even more so, outside of the classroom. As a part of that commitment, the college created the Odyssey Program. Students must complete at least three different Odyssey projects during their tenure at Hendrix in different categories (Artistic Creativity, Global Awareness, Professional & Leadership Development, Service to the World, Undergraduate Research, and Special Projects). With a good justification, the Odyssey can be anything the student wants. Students can get credit by volunteering at a local animal shelter for a year or taking an art class or even going to Germany and Ireland to explore and research the areas where one’s ancestors are from.

That last one is what I am doing, “Who Do I Think I Am?.” It is a Special Project, the catch-all category, as it combines elements from Artistic Creativity, Global Awareness, and Undergraduate Research. Thanks to a very generous grant from the Odyssey Program, I have been researching my ancestry for the past month or so, got my DNA analysed, and I am about to cross the pond on over to Germany and Ireland. I will go to four different cities in two different countries on a quest to find more about where my family came from and to fill in the some gaps in my family tree. In this project, the four ancestors I am specifically looking at are:

Nicholas Andrew Dreier (1861-1932), my great-great grandfather, was born in Meldorf, Germany and died in Chicago, Illinois.

Bernardena “Dena” Kronlage (1851-1914), my great-great-great grandmother, was born in Oldenburg, Germany and died in Hamilton, Ohio.

Bernard “Barney” Niehoff (1845-1933), my great-great-great grandfather and Dena’s husband, was born in Hanover, Germany and died in Hamilton, Ohio.

Thomas Dwyer (1830-1897), another great-great-great grandfather, was born in Kilkenny, Ireland and died in Piqua, Ohio.

My ultimate goal is to hopefully find out why Nicholas, Dena, Barney, and Thomas left their home countries for the unknown in America. After my travels, I will compile my findings in an “academic scrapbook” of sorts and into a powerpoint, which I will later use in my presentation back at Hendrix in the Fall.

So, this Odyssey starts officially on Saturday when I arrive in Frankfurt, Germany! The next day, I am off to Meldorf! I should be posting every day or so as often as I can (WiFi is hard…), so get ready to get bogged down by some research on my ancestors and my enthusiasm for it!

#HendrixOdyssey #WhoDoITHinkIAm?#MyHullitage #HendrixCollege

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