Lucinda's Bout of Insanity Topples A Family Mystery

In late summer 1904, Levi Stanely escorted his ailing wife from their home in Oklahoma to Plainville, Kansas where two of her sisters lived and could provide her with care.

Lucinda (Dornon) Stanley's mental health was failing. A probate judge, doctor, and jurors examined and declared Lucinda mentally incapacitated and made arrangements for her immediate treatment at the Kansas State Insane Asylum in Topeka.

Over the course of several short weeks, her health declined precipitously. Just one week after being admitted to the hospital, Lucinda was dead (see Examined and Judged Insane).

Medical Files Document Decline
The Kansas Historical Society holds microfilmed copies of medical records from the Topeka State Hospital (the later name of the State Insane Asylum). Privacy restrictions prohibit anyone reviewing her medical diagnosis, but four pages from her file survive and are now public record.

Regrettably, the original medical records were destroyed, so the grainy microfilmed copies must be relied on to detail Lucinda's harrowing final days.

On September 1, 1904, Rooks County Probate Judge Hill wrote to the State Insane Asylum to inform them of Lucinda's fragile condition, and petition for her treatment at the facility as a ward of the state despite her Oklahoma residence.

Rooks County, Kansas Probate Judge Hill's letter to Insane Asylum - September 1, 1904

Probate Judge Hill wrote:

"Dear Sir
Replying to yours of 31st in regard to Lucinda Stanley will say that she lived here for 22 years, four years ago she moved with her husband to Oklahoma. About 9 months ago she was taken ill with rheumatism and kidney trouble as her husband says the Dr's had told him but kept up and going most of the time thinking she might be better if they sold out and and came here where 2 of her brothers live and has grown rapidly worse since they got here which is about [illegible] weeks. She sits up most of the time through the day but now has to have help when she walks and it is getting difficult for her to talk. Her husband is 72 years old and his means are limited. Has about $300. It would seem impossible to remove her to Oklahoma in her present condition. Possibly Kansas might collect from Oklahoma for her keep. You will know as to that. If she is admitted her husband will take her down.
Hoping you may see your way clear to receive her at Topeka. I am as ever yours. Truly, J.P. Hill"

The second record is a questionnaire requiring 25 responses regarding the patient's background and condition.

Insane Asylum Patient Questionnaire

There are genealogically relevant responses. For example, the questionnaire confirmed Lucinda's age was 50 (indicating her birth year was about 1854) and that she was born in Monroe County, Ohio.

The questionnaire points to a continuing mystery. It confirmed that she was married, but stated that she "has no children never had". Previously it was believed that she had a daughter Ella with her first husband Sylvester Scannel, both of whom pre-deceased her. This requires further investigation.

The questionnaire also addresses her current medical condition. Her first symptoms included "forgetfulness, pain, numbness...skipping of words in talking..." and she "has been gradually growing worse for 9 months". Lucinda's health before this attack of insanity was considered "fair". This was the first time she had been admitted to an asylum for insane.

Medical History Reveals Family History
The third record is a patient enrollment form. It's a sweeping collection of information on her background and current medical affliction.

Insane Asylum Patient Record

The record notes:

"Admitted September 17, 1904. Native of: Ohio. Age: 50. Class: State. Marital Condition: Married. Children: none. Occupation: housewife. Relatives insane: Family history negative [illegible]. Temperate: yes."

And it continues on for more than a dozen questions.

But, in an unanticipated surprise, the form provided information on Lucinda's family history. 

"Health and Habits of Parents: Father died of dropsy aged 45. Mother died of consumption at the age of 57. Both of good habit."

Excerpt of insane asylum patient record

Lucinda's parents, Burr Zelah and Sophronia (Rogers) Dornon, were my fourth great-grandparents. I have been researching Burr Zelah for years, trying to learn about the circumstances of his death during the height of the Civil War. I was primarily researching Lucinda - an aunt and not my direct ancestor - in the hope that I would uncover documentation about the circumstances regarding Burr's untimely death.

I was so fully engrossed in Lucinda's unfolding medical emergency that it took me a minute to grasp that I had just glanced over the cause of both Burr and Sophronia's deaths.

Apparently, Burr wasn't killed in battle or as a result of conflict with invading Confederate soldiers (as I speculated). His cause of death - dropsy - is an old medical term that, according to Access Genealogy, is "an abnormal collection of fluid in the tissues and cavities of the body; edema (swelling), often caused by kidney or heart disease."

In an instant I was handed information that I had long hoped would surface. While questions remain about the circumstances that led to his early passing from dropsy, it's gratifying to have something - anything - acknowledging his death.

It's a lesson for genealogists that exhaustive research, following collateral lines, can and does provide answers.

The Drama At Hand

The final record in Lucinda's medical file is a handwritten summary of her condition documented on two days.

Lucinda Stanley's medical condition summary

On September 18, 1904, a physical examination was conducted. It found that her head "was rigid...there was the unusual mumbling and groaning and the characteristic grinding of the teeth..."

On September 24, 1904, her heath deteriorated. The notes flagged a "progressive elevation of the temperature... ranging from 99 degrees to 105 degrees F. She worsens declined rapidly during this A.M."

A final terse note also dated September 24, 1904, concluded: "Died Paresis and Complications." 

That was Lucinda's swift end - a lapse into insanity silenced by muscle weakness and associated complications.

Collateral Research Yields Answers
From her tormented final days, Lucinda left a medical history that addressed the circumstances of her father's untimely passing. For me, this was genealogy gold.

But it's difficult to shake Lucinda's legacy. An unknown and largely forgotten member of the Dornon family, I can't help wondering if she was a secreted away memory only ever discussed in hushed whispers. Was the family afraid of how her final illness would be perceived? Generations later - without any surviving descendants of her own - she was largely forgotten.

It seems only fitting that her life's story would hold part of the long-sought-after answer to her father's passing.

Examined And Judged Insane

Three years ago, I wrote about my fourth great-aunt Lucinda Dornon and her disappearance from the record trail (see Lost Lucinda: Like Father Like Daughter).

A lot can happen in three years. Newly digitized newspaper collections and improved Optical Character Recognition (OCR) have shed more light on Lucinda's tragic story.

A Fiery End
Lucinda was the youngest child of my fourth great-grandparents Burr Zelah and Sophronia (Rogers) Dornon. I've been researching Burr Zelah for years, trying to learn about the circumstances of his death during the height of the Civil War. Part of that investigation included an examination of each of his children. Perhaps records they created held answers to his final days.

Lucinda was born in Ohio in August 1854 and lost her father before she was ten. With her mother and siblings, she moved to Wyandotte, Kansas, where she married Sylvester Scannel in March 1870.

In 1871, they had a daughter named Ella. Ella appeared in the 1880 Federal Census with her parents and again in the 1885 Kansas state census. But then she disappeared. Did she marry or pass away?

In March 1893, Sylvester was killed in a prairie fire that swept across the farmlands near their home in Palco, Kansas. A local newspaper, The Plainville Times, shared a horrific account:

"...Mr. Scannel was overcome with smoke and heat and fell to the ground. Mr. Lilly dismounted and tried to assist him, but it was too late. The flames came down upon them before they could escape. Mr. Scannel's clothing, except his boots and gloves, was burned entirely off his body, while Mr. Lilly's clothing was nearly all consumed. Both lay upon the ground for nearly three hours, and no one coming to their assistance, they managed to walk by clinging to each other a mile to Mr. Scannel's home, arriving there at 8 o'clock. Mr. Scannel lingered until the morning following, when death relieved him from his terrible suffering. He was conscious to the last and directed all his home affairs before his death."

Eighteen years after the fire, The Plainville Times recounted the events of that day and included mention of Scannel's funeral, noting that, "Mr. Scannel had lived in Rooks county for 15 years and was a good neighbor and citizen, and a kind father."

That's the last reference to Ella Scannel to have surfaced to-date.

Starting Over
Lucinda's life in those years after Sylvester's death must have been difficult. The week after her husband's death, she published a notice in the newspaper advertising that she was auctioning off livestock, likely in dire need of money.

The paper's society pages briefly noted a visit to Eaton, Colorado in June, and an extended trip to her sister's in Illinois in October.

In June 1899, it seemed that she was finally starting a new chapter of her life when she married Levi Stanley in Gove County, Kansas. The Stanleys settled in Woods County, Oklahoma where they were enumerated in the 1900 census.

For three years, this is where Lucinda's story abruptly stopped. It was unclear what happened to her until now.

Tragedy Returns
Over the course of four short newspaper blurbs, Lucinda's tragic fate was revealed.

On August 25, 1904, The Plainville Gazette announced her arrival in Kansas to visit family for "sometime":

A week later, on September 1, 1904, the seemingly innocuous family visit took a dramatic turn with The Plainville Gazette reporting that Lucinda had been examined and judged insane:

Two weeks later, on September 17, 1904, a Salina, Kansas newspaper reported that Lucinda was taken from Plainville to Topeka's asylum for treatment after her "mind was turned by the suffering caused by Bright's disease."

In its September 29, 1904 edition, The Plainville Gazette reported that Lucinda had died exactly one week after traveling to Topeka.

No mention was made of a surviving daughter, suggesting that Ella had pre-deceased her mother. A final inferred tragedy.

Lucinda was laid to rest in the cemetery near Palco where her first husband, Sylvester Scannel, was buried. A stone pillar rises from the parched land to mark his grave.

Lucinda's name was never added to the headstone giving no indication of her final resting place. Her life of tragedy was lost to time but is now remembered and honored.

Pedigree Collapse Pruned My Family Tree

Marching back ten generations, you would expect to find that you have 512 seventh great-grandparents. 

You know how this works. It's a math thing. There's you, then your two parents, four grandparents, eight great-grandparents, and so on until you reach the tenth generation. The numbers game dictates that there should be 512 individuals who played their part in parenting the child who would become one of your 256 sixth great-grandparents.

Great-Grandma Nevella

Great-Grandma's Well-Documented Gnarled Tree

When I hit a brick wall researching my family, I like to revisit my great-grandmother Nevella's family line. It's well-documented and goes back for generations. She did such a lovely job passing along family history. It's an encouragement to see the names and dates meticulously kept.

So imagine my surprise - as I was reveling in her well-documented family line - to discover that two of my sixth great-grandparents were siblings, and that their children - my fifth great-grandparents - married each other. Yes, my fourth great-grandfather Jerome Andrus was the child of first cousins whose fathers were brothers. Did you follow all of that?

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The shock didn't end with great-grandma Nevella's Andrus line. Her tree included another set of fifth great-grandparents who were married first cousins.

Do you have your scratch pad ready? My fourth great-grandmother Sophronia (Rogers) Dornon was the daughter of first cousins Francis Rogers and Abigail Gould. Abigail's mother was sister to Francis' father. Abigail and Francis shared a set of grandparents: William and Judith (Downing) Rogers.

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My genealogy to-do list just got a little easier. Of the 512 seventh great-grandparent slots in my family tree, four people fill the role of eight. That's four fewer people I have to research and find. The genealogist in me is a bit relieved (now if I could just calm the hypochondriac in me who's on edge about the genetic abnormalities lurking in the DNA...).

A Wrench in our Ancestral Exponential Growth

It really shouldn't come as a surprise that pedigree collapse pruned my family tree. Population statisticians are quick to point out the dilemma with genealogy's math game - the numbers simply aren't there. 

Sure, in theory, the further you climb back into your family tree the more people you would expect to find. But mankind's population shrinks as you go back in time, which throws a wrench in our ancestry's exponential growth. Close marriages were a result - and necessity - of this smaller population. (If you haven't already, be sure to check out Tim Urban's brilliant blog Your Family: Past, Present, and Future for some serious mind-blowing number crunching.)

There are legitimate reasons for close marriages throughout history. For centuries, technology precluded humans from moving great distances. There were no airplanes, trains, or cars. Movement was limited, so many societies lived in tight knit communities. Marriage within those communities was bound to cross family lines. In fact, Robin Fox, a professor of anthropology at Rutgers University, is on the record approximating that "80 percent of all marriages in history have been between second cousins or closer."

Kissing Cousins 

The dynamics of society only a few generations ago left few options: families would eventually intermarry (and put a whole new spin on the term kissing cousins!). 

This eyebrow-raising reality (by today's moral standards) will save me precious research time. I'm thankful for that! Is it so wrong to root for pedigree collapse? I suppose as long as I don't come out of it suffering like Spain's King Charles II whose physical, mental, and emotional ailments have been attributed to the fact that only 32 people filled his 64 fourth great-grandparent slots. Yikes! I suppose there is a tipping point. 

In the meantime, I wish all of us time-strapped genealogists a genetically tasteful and well-balanced dose of pedigree collapse.

No Brick Walls in Google's Library

I've been away from the blog and genealogy this past month while traveling in India for work. It was, in a word, incredible. It's a country of extremes: beauty, color, poverty, heat, generosity.

Taj Mahal (photo by author)

I'm now home in the U.S. and ready to tackle my family history research. Yesterday, I made up for lost time and very nearly pulled an all-nighter as I dived back in with a vengeance. Like India, my genealogy motto is one of extremes: research hard or don't!

Researching Offline

I spent the afternoon at the Daughters of the American Revolution library trawling through dusty old volumes detailing Licking County, Ohio marriages, tax lists, probates, and land records. I wanted to see if I could learn more about my Kirk ancestors. Surely one of the many bound volumes held the clue I desperately needed to advance my research. 

It occurred to me, as I quietly turned page after page in each hulking antique tome praying for the author to name drop my ancestor, that it would take me months of sitting quietly in the reading room to finish just one of the books. 

They're reference materials. They can't be checked out. You can't read them carefully in the comfort of your home. If the book doesn't include a name index (as many of these older volumes don't), you just have to sit and read (and pray you don't overlook the name you're after). What I wouldn't give for these books to be online and keyword searchable.

Library of Tomorrow is Today

Back at home, reflecting on my lack of success at DAR's library, it occurred to me that maybe some of these older volumes had been digitized and were keyword searchable. Could I pull up the book and search (CTRL + F) for my family's surname? I Google searched a volume title and was directed to Google's Book database. 

Now, I have to admit that I knew this database existed. I've sat in conference sessions where genealogy tech guru Lisa Louise Cooke touted the value of Google technology, including Google Books. Regrettably, I always assumed that my ancestors didn't have sufficient notoriety to merit publication in a book. I never searched. Huge mistake! 

I dropped in the county name and Google turned up some of the enormous Licking County histories I was paging through at DAR. In a matter of seconds I was able to word search the volume and confirm my surname was not mentioned. Boom! Done! On to the next volume. Genealogy is time intensive. We don't have time to waste on resources that don't advance our family trees. We need to take advantage of tools like Google Books that make our research more effective and efficient.

Google Books Offers a Rapunzel-esque Climb Over a Brick Wall

I excitedly began searching a handful of surnames. Followers of the blog know I've been trying to learn more about Burr Zelah Dornon and his family. A search of his surname turned up a tantalizing clue. 

My 4th great-grandparents were highlighted in what appeared to be a list of descendants. Before this list appeared on my screen, Sophronia (Rogers) Dornon was a brick wall. I had no idea who her parents were (although family lore said her mother's maiden name was Gould).

Unfortunately, I was only able to see this small snippet of text. The book, as is the case with some volumes, was not available to be read online in its entirety through Google Books.

Unwilling to slow for this roadblock, I plugged the publication's title into a standard Google search and found a link to FamilySearch's library. Of course, the Mecca of genealogy had a copy in their holdings.

In a sign that the stars truly were aligned last night, the volume was available to access and read in its entirety through FamilySearch. In the comfort of my own home!

The text did in fact provide Sophronia's purported parents' names: Francis and Abigail (Gould) Rogers. It even provided both of their parents' names. In one evening, thanks to Google Books, I uncovered possible new sets of 5th and 6th great-grandparents. You try and go to sleep after that kind of success!

To help corroborate the information, I turned to Ohio probate records on FamilySearch and found Francis Rogers' 1843 will in Hardin County. In it, he doles out his assets to his family, including daughter Sophronia.

Sophronia inherits $75 from her father in his September 1843 will

A search for Abigail revealed that she not only survived her husband by nearly four decades, but she also survived daughter Sophronia. Find A Grave has a burial for Abigail in Iowa where she evidently lived with one of her sons.

Collectively, there remains a lot of work to document and substantiate these new leads, but in one fell swoop Google Books gave me a leg up that enabled me to peak beyond the brick wall. Perhaps this one will come tumbling down.

Researching the Facts

I made my first research trip to the Daughters of the American Revolution (DAR) Library. The cold windy weather absolved me of any guilt for holing up indoors on a Saturday.

The library is loaded with volumes dedicated to the genealogical history of counties across the United States. Happily, the entire collection is free to peruse after the library recently eliminated the research fees they used to charge.

Burial Surveys
I hoped to find published copies of cemetery surveys for Lawrence County, Ohio, so I could determine whether Burr Dornon was among the enumerated burials. I pulled each book for Lawrence County off the shelf and carefully thumbed through every single page, purposely not relying on the indices in case something had been overlooked.

Despite my methodical review, there was no listing for Burr. However, none of the published surveys in DAR's collection were older than the 1980s.

According to the FindAGrave.com overview of Scottown Cemetery (where it's speculated a stone for Burr may have once existed), there were two surveys conducted some 50 years apart. Those two surveys were found to have discrepancies between them.

Where is the initial survey that was conducted 50 years earlier (c. 1930s)? I want to get my hands on that one!

Having exhausted the library's resources on Lawrence County, I next pulled the volumes on burials in Jackson County, West Virginia, which is located just across the Ohio River from Lawrence County. Burr's family lived in Jackson County in 1860 up until the Confederates briefly invaded in September 1862.

Again, no luck. There was no mention of a burial for Burr anywhere. I decided to set the question of his death and burial aside for the afternoon.

Exact Birth and Marriage Dates: A Task List
With easy access to all of the library's indices on births and marriages, it occurred to me that I should see if I could find other missing records for the Dornons.

I'm embarrassed to admit it, but my family tree has exact dates for several Dornon family life events with absolutely no sources to provide confirmation. These dates came from relatives - now deceased - who began work on our genealogy years ago. Sadly, they weren't the best documented trees. I took them as starting points, but have yet to locate evidence that corroborates the facts.

Among the exact dates without documentation are:

• Burr Z. Dornon birth: November 15, 1812
• Burr Z. Dornon marriage to Sophronia Rogers: March 5, 1835
• Sophronia (Rogers) Dornon birth: May 22, 1815 (may be calculated based on the age on her headstone)

These dates are so specific they had to have come from a record, right? I just need another trip to the DAR library.

Also, since I'm sketching my to-do list, where are the Dornons in these records:

• Burr and his father Andrew in the 1820 and 1830 censuses
• Sophronia (Rogers) Dornon in the 1870 census

There's never a shortage of questions to research. More to come...

Where's the Family Lore?

Where's the family lore surrounding Burr Zelah Dornon?

I've been asking myself that question lately as I continue to investigate when and where my 4th great-grandfather died and was buried (Feeling out of the loop? Get caught up: Poor Guilty Creatures and Narrowing Burr's Window of Death).

Families tell and retell stories about their ancestors. Over time, a story may take on a life of its own as facts are embellished. Despite the distortion, at least there's a story to share. Skeptical genealogists can always do the dirty work of looking for kernels of truth that advance evidence-based research.

When it comes to Burr, though, there's not much narrative for us to pick apart. That surprises me. With nine children, you would think that bits and pieces would have traveled through the years.

Sadly, as FamilySearch notes, it only takes three generations for oral family history to disappear. It seems that Burr has suffered this fate.

Mindful of this reality, the incessant digging into Burr's past (along with the fantastic help of a handful of Dornon cousins) is cobbling together a narrative; restoring his history.

Buried on the Hill?
Speaking of Dornon cousins, I've connected with several of Burr's descendants on The Lawrence Register, a Facebook group dedicated to Lawrence County, Ohio genealogy.

Scottown Cemetery. Photo by Henry Dillon & used by permission

One cousin mentioned that a great-grandson of Burr - still living - thinks he recalls seeing a tombstone for Burr on a hill in Scottown Cemetery in Lawrence County. Unfortunately, many of the headstones have disappeared or were destroyed over the years.

We're trying to locate an early survey for the cemetery to see if a turn-of-the-20th-century census of burials includes Burr.

Another cousin is doubtful. He's been visiting the cemetery since 1969 and never recalled seeing a marker for our man in question. However, his caveat was that there were a few markers that were no longer legible because they were so worn and weathered.

Nine Lives: Burr's Immediate Family
What about Burr and his wife Sophronia's nine children? What do we know about that cast of characters? Who among them had and passed on the family lore? We have some descendancy mapping to do.

Albert Dornon: In June 1863, two of Burr's children - Joseph and Mary Susan - sell land that their father bought in Lawrence County, Ohio, to Albert. It appears to me that they're selling their stake in land that was inherited. I speculate the eldest child was the administrator for his father's estate.

Curiously, an Albert Dornon is enumerated in the 1860 U.S. Federal Census in both Lawrence County, Ohio (with a wife and two children) and in Jackson County, Virginia (with his parents and siblings). The age and state of birth are the same in both records. Burr's family lived in both counties. Is it the same man? Should we map out the children enumerated in Lawrence County? Albert's fate is unknown.

Albert Dornon: 1860 US Census Lawrence County, OH

Joseph Dornon: Joseph's son Burzilla Hoyte Dornon was born January 6, 1862 in Lawrence County, Ohio. It seems Joseph named his son after his own father. I realize that's a pretty standard practice. But is there more to it? Was he named in mournful homage to his grandfather? Perhaps. Or perhaps Burr Zelah was ill at the time of Burzilla's birth and the eternal writing was merely on the wall.

Burzilla H. Dornon death certifcate. Courtesy Roger Dillon.

Like his brother Albert, Joseph's fate is currently unknown.

Lorenzo wound. Pension Record.

Lorenzo Dornon: Two months after their mother Sophronia passes away, Lorenzo paid $200 for 100 acres of land that belonged to "Burr's heirs." This included his brother Andrew, and three sisters: Abigail, Anna, and Lucinda. Lorenzo turned a profit on the land, selling it about six months later for $600.

Lorenzo passed away in June 1910 in Lawrence County, Ohio. He's buried in the above-mentioned Scottown Cemetery. A veteran of the Civil War, he sustained a bullet wound to the left chest that remained lodged in his body.

I'm hopeful we can track down an obituary to see if it provides any details about his parents.

Vandegrafts

Mary Susan (Dornon) Vandegraft: Mary Susan married Jackson Vandegraft. They settled in Illinois and had at least six children. Mary is buried in McLean County, Illinois. As the eldest Dornon daughter, I wonder if she was the keeper of family heirlooms and stories? Are there photographs?

I have a very poor quality photocopy of a picture that includes three Dornon sisters and their spouses. Mary Susan is pictured with her husband. Despite the poor quality, you can make out her strong facial features and see the striking similarity to her sisters Anna and Abigail.

Although she passed away in February 1896 before the practice was common, I'm hopeful that an area newspaper included a death notice or full obituary. The McLean County Genealogical Society was unable to locate her name in their obituary index of the Pantagraph (the local paper). An independent search of the papers from that time needs to be commissioned.

Anna (Dornon) Benedick

Anna (Dornon) Benedick: Anna is my link to the family. She was my 3rd great-grandmother and married Albert Benedick (a Civil War veteran who was in the same regiment as Anna's brother Andrew).

She passed away in March 1913 after a life that was a "battle against infirmity...[that] she endured courageously, hopefully, patiently."

Her obituary notes that immediate survivors include only a brother. There's no mention of any other siblings, which is important as we consider when her mysterious sister Lucinda Dornon dies. Unfortunately, there's no mention in Anna's obituary of either of her parents.

Andrew Dornon: Andrew was Anna's twin. He was the longest surviving Dornon child. He eventually settled with his family in Colorado where he passed away and is buried.

Andrew Dornon

The Pikes Peak Library District in Colorado Springs was unable to locate a death notice or obituary for Andrew in their 1930 newspapers. It seems odd that there was no record of his passing, particularly since his wife survived him and could have overseen its publication.

Phebe Jane Dornon: Phebe Jane is a phantom. She's in everyone's online tree (including my own), but without any supporting documentation to confirm her existence.

Online trees give a birth and death date of July 14, 1850. That's a very exact date. Without a record to provide that level of detail, it seems that this information would have to come from family records. Who provided that information? I want to talk to that person!

Abigail (Dornon) Benedick: Like her sister Anna, Abigail married a Benedick brother (George). Also like her sister, Abigail's 1910 obituary makes no mention of her parents.

Abigail (Dornon) Benedick

We learn that in her final years, she was "subject to sinking spells due to heart trouble ... attended with great suffering." However, she "maintained a quiet and hopeful disposition and her cheerfulness and calm fortitude [attested] to the strong spirit and great courage and endurance which formed ... prominent features of the character."

Lucinda E. Sophronia (Dornon) Scannel Stanley: Lucinda's story was documented in Lost Lucinda: Like Father Like Daughter. I'm still searching for her death location and then, hopefully, an obituary that might shed light on her father's passing.

To-date, her last known recorded appearance is in the 1900 U.S. Federal Census. She's living with her second husband Levi Stanley in Stella Township, Woods County, Oklahoma.

1900 U.S. Census: Lucinda (Dornon) Stanley

A letter to the Woods County Genealogical Society requesting help in locating information on her life in Oklahoma and death was returned as undeliverable. I suspect the society is defunct. I'll need to circle back with the Oklahoma state genealogical society.

Dornon Descendants
Are you a descendant of Burr and Sophronia Dornon? Where do you fit into this puzzle? What information can you shed on the Dornon siblings? Let's swap family lore!

Family History on the Road - Day Two

Day two of the family history road trip started with an early morning breakfast at the hotel, bags quickly packed into the car, and highway-bound to Rossville, Kansas.

Rossville is where my Lumpkins and Hawks ancestors spent many years. In fact, my 3rd great-grandfather William Lumpkins settled in the area in March 1874 and was the proprietor of the Lumpkins House - the town's only hotel. 

In 1892, it was billed as an "Excellent accommodation for boarders and commercial men" with "reasonable" prices. 

Rossville Times - April 22, 1892

Day two of the road trip was a Sunday, so much of Main Street was closed, including the library. Our research was going to be limited to the cemetery. The skies were beginning to cloud into an ominous color and threatened to rain. The wind picked up and brought with it a cold front. 

We made our way to Rossville Cemetery to pay our respects at the graves of several direct ancestors. Among these were William Lumpkins' first wife Phoebe (Howerton) Lumpkins. She passed away at the age of 51, and her grave is marked with a tall obelisk. The inscription is weathered. A biblical passage on the upper portion of the monument is largely illegible. The stone's size dominates the hill on which its placed. It seems preeminent and symbolic of the sadness and regard for which her family surely must have had at her loss.

Phoebe (Howerton) Lumpkins' grave

Phoebe's monument does not include any mention of her husband's burial. However, according to the Topeka City Clerk's register of deaths, William Lumpkins' remains were buried in Rossville. Furthermore, the Rossville Reporter published his obituary on August 13, 1909, and stated that he was laid "to rest beside the wife in the Rossville Cemetery to wait for dawning of The Morning." His grave is, apparently, unmarked.

Their son, my 2nd great-grandfather, John George Lumpkins, is also buried in the cemetery. He married Minnie Hawks in Rossville on January 6, 1897. They had six children together (including my great-grandfather Marion Lumpkins) before he died following an accident. 

On February 23, 1910, John was walking home from work. He slipped on a patch of ice and hit his head. That evening, he took ill and early the following morning he passed away. It was his 38th birthday. As his obituary noted, the sudden "news of his death could scarcely be believed in Rossville and came as a distinct shock to his friends and relatives here."

The year 1910 would prove a difficult one for the newly widowed Minnie (Hawks) Lumpkins. Five months after her husband's death, she gave birth to their sixth child. In October, her father Edmond Hawks passed away at the age of 51 after "suffering for the past eight or ten weeks with a sort of paralysis." He was buried in Rossville in front of John Lumpkins' grave.

Edmond Hawks (right) and possibly Iva Elzina (Haworth) Hawks James (left)

Edmond's passing made a widow of Iva Elzina (Haworth) Hawks. She eventually remarried to Robert James. Iva passed away in Topeka on December 23, 1951. According to her obituary, she was buried in Rossville Cemetery. However, there's no marker for her in the cemetery.

I believe she may have been buried beside her first husband - my 3rd great-grandfather - Edmond Hawks. To the left of Edmond's headstone, I discovered a metal plate without an inscription. I suspect this is her final resting place. I'm hopeful the Rossville Library or city can help to confirm the burial.

From Rossville, we pushed eastward to Edwardsville in the suburbs of Kansas City. My 4th great-grandmother Sophronia (Rogers) Dornon is among the cemetery's earliest burials. In fact, the cemetery's charter was filed with the Secretary of State in March 1879. Sophronia passed away on May 23, 1872. She, or rather her husband, has been an ongoing mystery that I've been working to unravel. What happened to her husband Burr Zelah Dornon? When and where did he pass away? I'm hopeful an obituary for Sophronia will surface in Edwardsville's records that could shed light on her husband's passing.

I walked the cemetery, looking for a marked grave. There's no evidence that he was buried in Edwardsville. The only Dornon I found was Sophronia's small marker, now split in half. The portion with her name faces skyward. 

From Edwardsville we drove into Missouri. Our pit stop for the evening was Joplin where we planned our adventures for day three.

Day Two Recap

Miles Traveled: 260

Direct Ancestor Graves Visited: 6

Running From the Rebels

My search continues for information about the death and burial of Burr Zelah Dornon, my 4th great-grandfather. Recently, I found the grave for his wife, Sophronia (Rogers) Dornon, but, as you may recall, he was not resting beside her eternally.

Public trees on Ancestry and FamilySearch taunt me with a death date of October 15, 1867. Unfortunately, this date is unsourced. Without a citation, I have no idea where the information came from and cannot determine its accuracy.

Burr's last known appearance in a public record, is the 1860 US Federal Census where he and his family are living in Jackson County, Virginia (soon to be Wild & Wonderful West Virginia). To stir up new information, I decided to return to the National Archives and trawl through his sons' Civil War pension records. Perhaps their files would shed more light on their father.

Burr had four sons: Albert, Joseph, Lorenzo, and Andrew. Each was old enough to enlist. I was able to locate pension applications for two of them: Lorenzo and Andrew. I'm unclear on the fate of the eldest sons Albert and Joseph.

Lorenzo Dornon served in Company K of the 2nd Regiment of the Ohio Cavalry.

• Lorenzo suffered a gunshot wound in the fall of 1864 at the Battle of Summit Point. The bullet entered his left chest and came to rest in his lower abdomen. His June 1910 death certificate was included in his file, and provided mention of his father. The informant gave his father's name as Bursley Dornon, but didn't know the mother's name. 

Andrew, the youngest, enlisted in Company A of the 188th Regiment of the Ohio Infantry. Shortly after he joined the service, he fell ill with the measles and was sent to a hospital in Murfreesboro, Tennessee. While in hospital, he contracted Typhoid Fever and nearly died. The remainder of his military service was spent recuperating from illness.

When he applied for a pension, the Government requested that Andrew submit evidence of his birth, which they suggested could include the family bible. Andrew's handwritten response in May 1913 provides new details about the Dornon family during the Civil War.

This remarkable letter - written some fifty years after the event - suggests that the Confederate Army was the impetus for Burr Zelah moving his family out of Jackson County. 

According to the Jackson County Historical Society, the area remained under Union authority, however, "The only exception was in September 1862 when Confederate forces, under the command of General Albert Gallatin Jenkins, briefly gained control of the county."

It seems historically plausible that the Rebels really could have prompted the Dornons to uproot their lives.  

Elsewhere in Andrew's pension application is a document outlining his cities of residence since his discharge from the military. Andrew writes that he, "lived in Lawrence Co. Ohio until 1868 - moved to Edwardsville, KS. until 1911 - moved to Lincoln Co. Colo." 

Did the Dornons live in Lawrence County after leaving West Virginia? Lawrence is less than 70 miles to the west. Did they stay there until the death of Burr Zelah in about 1867 or 1868? 

Burr's wife Sophronia is buried in the Edwardsville Cemetery in Kansas. Perhaps the Dornon sons brought their mother - recently widowed - along as they pursued new opportunities in the west.

The search continues. I'm on the hunt for a probate record or cemetery transcription for Burr Zelah that could bring the question to resolution.

Stone Broke

I've been looking for information on the death of Burr Zelah Dornon - my 4th great-grandfather - for quite some time. When and where did he pass away?

I last find him in the 1860 U.S. Federal census living with his wife Sophronia and seven of their children in Jackson County, Virginia (today West Virginia). I haven't been able to find him or his wife in the 1870 census. Where did they go?

Curiously, a now-deceased distant cousin had a death date for him in her unsourced tree: October 15, 1867. I've come across nothing that can help substantiate this date. Where did she pull this from? It's a frustrating mystery!

My research recently turned up a promising lead. I found a BillionGraves Kansas burial record for B.Z. Dornon who died May 23, 1872. There was even a photo of the grave stone!

Photo by Bill Bedell
(used by permission)

I quickly loaded the picture - excited that I may have finally cracked the mystery. When the image appeared on my screen, I realized that the stone (now well over 140 years old) was broken.

The top portion was missing. The standing portion read in large letters "B.Z. Dornon". However, the transcriber missed the faint inscription just above the name. It read, "Wife of". This wasn't the burial for B.Z. Dornon. It was the grave of his wife Sophronia.

I moved my detective work to FindAGrave.com where a volunteer quickly offered to visit Sophronia's grave at the Edwardsville Cemetery in Wyandotte, Kansas.

The volunteer was able to confirm that the top portion of Sophronia's headstone was facing skyward behind the rest of the monument. Sure enough, his picture revealed that this was in fact the burial for B.Z. Dornon's wife Sophronia. Her name is engraved along the cracked bottom of the stone.

Photo by Bill Bedell (used by permission)

Unfortunately, there was no nearby burial for B.Z. Dornon. He doesn't appear to have made it to Kansas (at least not the same cemetery as his wife). I've since updated the BillionGraves record to properly notate Sophronia's burial.

While the search continues for Burr Zelah, I'm now interested in the restoration process for Sophronia's headstone if it's not cost prohibitive. Is there a standard approach to reassembling and restoring old headstones? Or is the damage too severe? Must it be replaced by a new stone? I plan to visit the cemetery later this fall and assess the options.

Unknowns in Red Velvet

Red Velvet Family Album

Last summer, I spent time pouring over my grandmother's old family photos. She pulled out a couple albums that she inherited from her mother, who in turn inherited them from her parents.

Both albums were quite remarkable because their contents were obviously the oldest of the family photo collection. One of the albums had a worn cover that was once made of red velvet. Inside, it included a handful of cabinet cards from the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Unfortunately, many of the photos were not labeled, so the identities of the people pictured are unknown.

The majority of the cabinet cards that are labeled feature Benedick family members. However, there are a couple cards of Dornon family members, and even one of the Bair family. In trying to identify the other unknowns I've centered on these three surnames.

Of the 30 photos in the red velvet album, two stand out from the rest. They are unlike the others in size and material. They are not printed on heavy card stock, but rather metal with a black tacky backside. The images look older and the clothing appears to be from earlier decades - perhaps 1860s. I believe the images are tintypes.

Unknown Tintypes

Sadly, neither of the tintypes are labeled and my grandmother does not know their names. I can't even determine where the images were taken. Furthermore, the people in the tintypes don't appear in any of the later cabinet cards (at least I haven't been able to identify them elsewhere). 

The album originally belonged to my 2nd great-grandparents Ernest and Bessie (Bair) Benedick.  I'm most curious about the woman. Is she one of my great-grandmothers? My aunt recently shared a letter that she received from a Benedick cousin in April 1988. The cousin, now deceased, was a descendant of Ernest's brother Albert Benedick. She wrote that she remembered seeing photos - in other family members' collections - of two of my 4th great-grandmothers. I've never seen photos of either woman. 

Benedick cousin recollects photos of 4th great-grandmothers

The cousin confirms that photos did in fact exist of Mary Ann (Miser) Benedick and Sophronia (Rogers) Dornon. They were the grandmothers of Ernest Benedick - the owner of the red velvet album. Is it possible that the woman in the tintype is Mary Ann or Sophronia?

The woman in the photo appears to be in her 50s or 60s. Maybe even in her mid-60s. While I'm no Maureen Taylor (you know, the Photo Detective), I'm speculating that the picture is from the 1860s or 1870s.

Let's say 1870. Based on this date and the speculated age span, that could suggest the woman was born between 1810 and 1820.

Perhaps the scarf or hair style are indicative of a more specific time period or even suggest a geographic location? Is she wearing mourning clothes? Or is this just everyday typical fashion of the times?

If we look at the two candidates under consideration, who - thanks to the letter - we now know were photographed, we can determine that each are within reach of the photo's proposed time frame. More information, though, is needed to help crack this case. Perhaps someone can pinpoint facial similarities to children of Mary Ann or Sophronia?

Mary Ann (Miser) Benedick

According to her obituary, Mary Ann Miser was born March 26, 1809 in Harrison County, Ohio. She married John Benedick in October 1831. John died in 1863, and Mary Ann never remarried. By 1870, she was living with her son Samuel in Wyandotte, Kansas. She died June 4, 1901 in Plainville, Kansas at the age of  92.

Below are photos of three of her children:

Benedick Siblings

Sophronia (Rogers) Dornon

According to the 1850 and 1860 Federal Censuses and her grave stone, Sophronia Rogers was born in Massachusetts on May 22, 1815. It's believed that she married Burr Zelah Dornon in about March 1835. No marriage record has been located. She passed away May 23, 1872 in Wyandotte, Kansas.

Below are photos of three of her children:

Dornon Siblings

So, what do you think? Willing to wager a guess?

Who is the Mystery Lady?