What the Records Can and Can't Tell Us

Thomas Charles Gaffney (1874 - 1937)
Cora Alice (Terrill) Gaffney (1879 - 1951)
Agnes Evelyn (Gaffney) Johnson (1902 - 1977)

Second of a four part series

When we examine the lives of our ancestors, we depend on records to give us the facts about them and shed some light on why things turned out the way they did. Unless we are lucky enough to find some narrative or know some story about a person, we can be left with more questions than answers as we seek to know him or her better. This is one reason it is so important to record and preserve stories about the people we love.

Thomas Charles Gaffney in a photo strip.
Conneaut, Ohio, circa 1910 - 1920.

When I first saw this photo strip of my great-grand uncle Thomas Charles Gaffney, I was intrigued.  It was in a scrapbook that belonged to my grand aunt, Benita (McGinnis) McCormick.  Her jovial comment, "Madcap Lover!" next to her uncle's pictures and the silly expressions on his face in the various poses suggested that this was a man with a story. Determined to learn at least some new detail about my great-grand uncle Thomas Gaffney, I have been combing Ancestry.com and quite a few other tried and true genealogy sources, including local newspapers, for some small mention about our mystery man. 

You would think it fairly easy to find something beyond the small bread crumb census records that showed him living between Conneaut and Cleveland, Ohio.  After a few red herrings and false starts, persistence paid off.  (If you are able to view Ancestry.com, you will be able to see some of the records mentioned here.) t turns out that there had been a big detail left out of the meager accounts about Tommy I had heard from my relatives.  

He had a daughter.

Sometime around 1900, Tommy, as everyone knew him, met Cora Alice Terrill of nearby Monroe   Township. In that year, 21-year-old Cora lived in a rented house where she looked after her two younger sisters, ages 17 and 15.  Though one might surmise that the sisters were orphans, that was not the case at all.  

In fact, their parents, Nancy (Goss) and Nathaniel Ellery Terrill, had divorced over a decade earlier.  Each of them had remarried and started new families, in 1891 and 1896, respectively.  Nathaniel, his new wife Mary and their two children lived on a farm in Monroe.  Nancy, her second husband Joseph Frick, and their two sons lived on a farm in Ashtabula.

One wonders whether Nancy (Goss) Terrill, now Nancy Frick, had much of a relationship with her daughters if she did not have them living at home in that era. In 1900, the United States Census asked women how many children they had given birth to and how many were surviving.  Nancy apparently told the census taker that she had a total of two children, both of whom were still living. Given that she and her husband, farmer Joseph E. Frick, were listed in the census with their sons Wilson and Walter, Nancy's answer begs more awkward questions:  Why did she exclude her three daughters from the count, and how did that attitude affect them and Cora in particular?

And who was awarded custody of Cora and her sisters after the divorce? The records may give us clues to the who, the what, the when and the where, but they stop short there, ruthlessly leaving us to wonder about the hows and the whys behind the clues.  And because we care about these people and want to understand who they were, we keep seeking answers. 

We have no idea what kind of people Nancy and Nathaniel were or why their marriage failed.  I am unable to find the divorce papers but know that Cora was not more than 11 years old when the marriage ended; her youngest sister would have been no older than 5.  

Neither do we know how the parents viewed bringing their children with them into a new marriage.  Did they shuffle the children back and forth during that time until they reached the turbulent teen years? What were the circumstances behind the girls living on their own? Were Nancy and Nathaniel afraid their adolescent daughters would be too much for their stepparents to handle? Maybe evidence will turn up someday that will paint a rosier picture of this family.

Divorce takes a toll on all members of a family, even today.  In an era when divorce bore an added stigma for the separating spouses and their children, the Terrill sisters' independent living situation - with or without family support - must have been challenging and emotionally difficult, to say the least. Considering Cora's young and impressionable age and the heavy responsibility she shouldered, it is easy to imagine that she could have felt overwhelmed and uncertain of her future.  She probably was so busy being a breadwinner and mother to her sisters that she had precious little time for herself.

So when she met Tommy Gaffney, maybe she was flattered by his interest and attentions and charmed by his good looks and sense of humor. Maybe she saw in him a way out of her situation, or as a brief distraction from her burdens.  Maybe she was starved for love and was happy to find someone who cared about her.

And Tommy?  Photos of him and his relatives' good-natured comments make him out to be a funny romantic but utterly charming man with a good heart.  When he met Cora, did he see a damsel in distress he could rescue? More simply, did the two of them genuinely fall in love?  These are questions that records can't always answer.

There is one record, however, that tells us that Cora Terrill gave birth to a daughter, Agnes Evelyn Gaffney, on May 19, 1902, in Pierpont. The entry in the Ohio Births and Christenings Index of 1800 - 1962 listed Thomas A. Gaffney of Conneaut, Ohio, as the father.  

It also marked Agnes' birth with the letter "I," labeling her as an illegitimate child, the  sobering term in those days for a child born out of wedlock.

For the benefit of our younger audience who may be shaking their heads at this label right now, let us interrupt this narrative for the following 21st century editorial opinion:   No matter how or when they are born, babies do not break the law; and there is no such thing as an illegitimate child.  Every child is legitimate.  Period.  

Unfortunately, society a century (and even half a century) ago did not see it that way, and this label caused many innocent children to suffer social stigmas as a consequence of their parents' choices or even circumstances beyond their control. Moreover, their mothers  could be thought of as less than respectable women. So Agnes E. Gaffney made her entrance into the world with two strikes already against her, especially in a small community where tongues wagged, stories were embellished, and reputations were all-important.

Life was hard for a single mother and her baby. City directory listings and census records of the time indicate that Cora raised Agnes by herself and that they lived in at least three different towns over several years.  It would be nice to know that Tommy accepted the child as his own and offered financial and paternal support during this time, but we cannot say for sure.  

As for family, it looks like Cora stayed in touch with both her parents during this time. A newspaper clipping of the time mentions  that "little Agnes Gaffney" visited some of the Fricks in Pierpont in 1904.  Other records and a later photograph we will see shortly allude to a congenial relationship with the Gaffneys, on Tommy's side.  This would make sense, as Agnes' given name  suggests she was named after her spinster aunt Agnes Gaffney, Tommy's sister and a well respected lady in her own right.

Cora lost her mother and her sister Nora within two months during early 1906. After their deaths, she moved with Agnes to her hometown in Cumberland County, Tennessee, where her mother's relatives lived. We find mother and daughter in the 1910 U.S. Census, living with relatives Albert and Lora Norrod. The still-single Cora was working as a cook by then.

By contrast, the Conneaut City Directory of the same year reveals Tommy still lived at home in Conneaut with his mother, Bridget (Quinn) Gaffney and sisters Elizabeth, Delia, and Margaret. It would seem from all intents and purposes that he and Cora had broken up.

Cora and Agnes eventually returned to Ohio, and the next two censuses (1920 and 1930) reveal that Cora and Tommy  married in 1919.  The 1920 U.S. Census is the only evidence that the the family of three finally was living together, in a rented home at 327 Sandusky Street in Conneaut.  By now, Agnes was 17 years old.  Things seemed to be looking up for the family.

Sadly, the marriage was not to last.

In case you missed it:

Part One:     Mystery Monday:  More than Meets the Eye
Part Three:  Wishful Wednesday:  Happy and Not So Happy Endings
Part Four:    Thankful Thursday:  The End of the Breadcrumb Trail

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Copyright ©  2013  Linda Huesca Tully

Are you a member of the Frick, Gaffney, Goss, McGinnis, McCormick, and Terrill, families? Share your memories and comments below.

Fantastic Friday: Hotel LaRose Mystery Solved

A  month ago, I wrote a story here on Many Branches, One Tree about a mystery pencil sketch I had found of the Hotel LaRose in Santa Rosa, California.  The 9" x 12" sheet of white paper was protected by a thin sheet of onion paper and apparently had kept residence inside a century-old church hymnal that my cousin, Suzanne (Olson) Wieland, had given me earlier this year.

Hotel LaRose, Santa Rosa, California.
Ruth Robertson; pencil sketch, undated.

Once I determined that the hotel was in Santa Rosa, California and not Conneaut, Ohio, home of the original owner of the hymnal, my great-grand aunt Agnes Gaffney, I began to doubt that there was a connection between her and Ruth Robertson, the artist who signed the sketch.

I was unable to determine whether Ms. Robertson lived locally in Northern California or was still alive.  At one point, some of the staff of the Hotel LaRose tried to help me determine the age of the photograph, based on photos of their renovations through the years.  We guessed that the sketch, which depicted a number of window awnings, could have been made during or after a 1985 renovation in which awnings were added to the   historic hotel.

I mused that either the hotel had special meaning for Suzanne's parents, the late Jane (McCormick) and Eldon "Ole" Olson (who had retired to Santa Rosa), or that Jane had received it as a gift and placed it in the hymnal for safekeeping.   Our curiosities piqued, my husband and I planned to drive north to Santa Rosa this summer to try to solve our questions.

The mystery of the Hotel LaRose sketch even caught the fancy of my regular readers, who have made it the third most popular post on this blog.

Well, folks, the mystery has been solved.

Suzanne contacted me yesterday by e-mail after reading the post.  "Ruth Robertson is my dad's last surviving sister - cousin C's mother, from Minnesota," she wrote.  "She sketched the hotel when she visited once. There is no relation between the drawing and my grandmother (Benita McGinnis McCormick) or the hymnal...That illustration was in (there) to protect and flatten it."  She had forgotten to remove the sketch when she gave me the hymnal.

It was delightful to receive this news.  I am thrilled to have answers and especially to know that Ruth Robertson, though not related to me, is my cousin's paternal aunt - and that she is still alive.  I'm so grateful to Suzanne for solving the nagging questions about this lovely drawing and am happy to return it to her, so its rightful owner can treasure it.

Sometimes, the answer can be in our own backyard.  

To read the original post about the Hotel LaRose sketch, please click here.

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Copyright ©  2013  Linda Huesca Tully

Are you a member of the Gaffney, McCormick, McGinnis, Olson, Robertson, or Wieland families? Share your memories and comments below.

Workday Wednesday: Agnes Gaffney: Teacher and Model of Virtue

Agnes Catherine Gaffney (1872 - 1952)
Part Three of Three



Agnes Catherine Gaffney was one of four students in the graduating class of 1890 from Conneaut High School in 1890.  According to the 1940 United States Federal Census, she went on to complete three years of college, making her the highest educated member of her immediate family and the only one to have gone beyond high school.

Agnes Catherine Gaffney
 From a group photo with her sisters at their home
in Cleveland, Ohio.  It was likely taken in the
 mid-1930s.

She taught at various schools in Conneaut, Cleveland, and Ashtabula, including the Station Street School in Ashtabula and Collinwood High School in Cleveland.  

In those days as now, Agnes would have had to sign a contract upon her employment, agreeing to perform her duties faithfully and diligently. Her duties included not only teaching but also janitorial duties. She would have had to start the fire on winter mornings before her students arrived and sweep and scrub the floors and wipe down the desks and chalkboards at the end of the day.  

She also had to abide by a high standard of conduct in her personal and professional life. As a model of virtue to her pupils, she was expected to avoid anything that might give the slightest hint of scandal.  This meant that she could not be alone with a man unless he was her father or brother. Further, she could not marry during her teaching career.  She could not smoke, drink, or even dye her hair.  She was expected to be home by eight at night.  And home could not be just any place.  Her teachers' pay would have been meager, making it difficult to afford her own home.  If she did not reside with her own family or in a teacherage - a dwelling next to or part of a one room schoolhouse, she would have rented a room from a respected local family.  As a result, she lived in several places during her career, seemingly according to where the jobs were. 

These rules were not unusual in nineteenth and early twentieth century America.  In fact,  to see a typical teacher's contract and rules in 1905 for teachers in Ames, Iowa, another midwestern town, click here.

However, with so many regulations, it is understandable that many women did not teach for more than about five years.

Agnes, though, taught for most of her life and never married.  She retired sometime before 1940.  By then she was 67 and shared a home in Cleveland, Ohio, with her sisters Maggie, Di; and a nephew, John Cherry.  They occupied their days with reading, baking, and visiting friends and relatives; and they spent their summers with the extended family at the cottage of my maternal grandparents, Ralph and Alice (McGinnis) Schiavon at Big Blue Lake, Michigan.

As with several of her sisters, Agnes suffered from obesity and its consequences.  She developed arthritis in her later years and suffered further as she watched her close-knit family succumb to heart disease and various forms of cancer.  She, Maggie, and Di seem to have moved back to the family home at 397 Mill Street in Conneaut in the late 1940s, perhaps because of their failing health.  Frances (Gaffney) Cherry, who had been widowed some time before, still lived there, as did her son, John Cherry.  John Gaffney (another of the Gaffney siblings) had died before 1920, but his daughter, Nancy, was in her 40s by then and also lived in Conneaut.

Maggie, who had suffered from kidney and heart disease, died in 1949. The following year, Agnes was diagnosed with bladder cancer.  It must have seemed like her world was caving in when her sister Delia developed uterine cancer shortly afterward. Still, the sisters were as strong in spirit as they had been close their life long. Despite the gravity of their condition, they helped one another as best they could, together with their older sister Frances "Frank," who was suffering from heart failure.  According to my mother, Joan (Schiavon) Huesca, they never lost their sense of humor and love of life through it all.

In the spring of 1952, Agnes entered Conneaut's Brown Memorial Hospital.  When she died there on April 4, 1952, her nephew, John Cherry, noted that she was only two days away from her 80th birthday.  

Delia and Frances would follow her within the next 12 months.  



Also in this series about Agnes Gaffney:

• Part One:  Church Record Sunday:  Sacred Solos for High Voice
• Part Two:  Mystery Monday:  The Hotel LaRose

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Copyright ©  2013  Linda Huesca Tully

Are you a member of the Gaffney, Huesca, McCormick, McGinnis, or Schiavon  families? Share your memories and comments below.

Mystery Monday: Hotel LaRose

Agnes Catherine Gaffney (1872 - 1952)
Jane (McCormick) Olson (1927 - 2011)
Part Two of Three

Hotel LaRose, Santa Rosa, Califormia.
Pencil drawing by Ruth Robertson.  Date unknown.

In yesterday's post, we looked at a book that belonged to my great-grand aunt, Agnes Catherine Gaffney. Agnes, blessed with a beautiful soprano voice, would have sung from this beautiful hymnal, Fischer's Album of Sacred Solos for High Voice, at Catholic Masses, in her hometown of Conneaut, Ohio.  

This century-old book has made its way down four generations since Agnes used it in the mid-1890s. It came to me recently from my second cousin "S.", who inherited it from her late mother, Jane (McCormick) Olson.

Inside was a long sheet of thin onion paper between the second and third pages, ostensibly protecting a 9" x 12" sheet of white paper with the pencil sketch shown above.  The drawing is not dated, and there is nothing on the reverse. It has two small pieces of scotch tape on the back bottom corners, as if it had been taped to a picture mat and framed.

The drawing depicts a three-story stone building, called the Hotel LaRose, flanked by two large evergreen trees and a tall palm tree in front.  There is no other writing except for the words "Restaurant & Lounge" on the front of the awning on the lower right hand corner.  

At first glance, I guessed it to be an early sketch by my late great-aunt, Benita (McGinnis) McCormick, a well-known local artist. I wondered whether it had some significance to her, or to Aunt Agnes.  But I also wanted to know:  what was it doing in her hymnal? 

Aunt Agnes' hymnal.

Then I put on my glasses - a must these days if I really want to see things as they are! - and looked at the sketch more closely. It turns out the sketch was not signed by Benita, but by Ruth Robertson, who as far as I know is not a relation. 

And there was another thing. Palm trees do not grow in Ohio. The weather is too cold for them. The Hotel LaRose had to be from somewhere else. But where?

I went online and searched for "Hotel LaRose."  The first result revealed a Hotel La Rose in Santa Rosa, California, at the heart of its historic Railroad Square.  When I looked at the hotel's website, I found a photograph that was nearly identical to Ruth Roberton's pencil drawing.

The website went on to note that this lovely hotel was built in 1907, a year after the Great San Francisco Earthquake.  It is listed as a historic hotel with the National Trust for Historic Preservation and was restored in 1985. 

An earlier photograph of the hotel, taken in the mid-20th century, shows that unlike the drawing, none of the windows had any awnings. This begs the question as to whether they were there in the early days or were added after the 1985 renovation.  The answer could help date the picture and even give us a clue about the artist herself.  Google searches did not reveal an artist named Ruth Robertson, much less anyone by that name who lived in Santa Rosa.

Jane Olson and her husband, Eldon "Ole," retired to Santa Rosa in the mid-1980s.  Did they obtain the sketch while living there, maybe from Ruth Robertson herself?  Given their Santa Rosa residence, this seems like the most plausible explanation.

My guess is that there was no connection between the drawing of the Hotel LaRose to Agnes' hymnal or even to Agnes herself, for that matter.  More likely, the large hymnal happened to be a safe place to store the drawing all these years.  

What meaning did it have for Jane?  She did not keep things frivolously unless they had some value or special significance.  Did she and Ole stay overnight at the Hotel LaRose?  Or was this a gift from a friend, a fellow retiree, or even Ruth Robertson?  

If you have any thoughts, let me know.  Otherwise, a trip across the Golden Gate Bridge to the north bay might be in order.  I think I know a good place to stay.


Also in this series about Agnes Gaffney:

• Church Record Sunday:  Sacred Solos for High Voice
• Workday Wednesday:  Agnes Gaffney:  Teacher and Model of Virtue

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Copyright ©  2013  Linda Huesca Tully

Are you a member of the Gaffney, McCormick, McGinnis, or Olson families? Did you know Ruth Robertson, or do you have stories about the Hotel LaRose? Share your memories and comments below.

Church Record Sunday: Sacred Solos for High Voice

Agnes Catherine Gaffney (1872 - 1952)
Part One of Three

Agnes Catherine Gaffney

Not long ago, my second cousin gave me a lovely songbook that had belonged to her late mother, Benita Jane (McCormick) Olson and before her, our mutual great grand aunt, Agnes Gaffney.

Titled Fischer's Album of Sacred Solos for High Voice, it evidently was given to Agnes by her older sister, Lyle (Elizabeth) Gaffney, in 1895. Agnes would have been 23 at the time.  Perhaps that is her approximate age in the photo at right, part of a larger group portrait taken with her five sisters, Janie, Lyle, Maggie, Di, and Frances. 

The book was published by J. Fischer & Bro., an American music publishing company established by brothers Joseph and Ignaz Fischer in 1864.  Originally based in Toledo, Ohio, the brothers moved the company to New York City eleven years later.  The company appears to have published mainly sacred and secular music for choral groups, with organ or piano accompaniment.

Aunt Agnes' hymnal of solos for high voice.

Agnes' book is quite large, measuring about 10" x 14".  Its 116 pages, beautifully edged in red, contain sacred music from some of the great composers, including Gounod, St. Saens, and Verdi.  It remains in good condition, though the corners have become dogeared and the cover has begun to fray.

Inside the book is a dedication to Agnes from her sister, Elizabeth, whose nickname was Lyle:

Agnes Katharine Gaffney

From Elizabeth

Fond du Lac, Wisc.

October 23, '95

The first page, inside, is dedicated to Agnes by her sister Lyle.

This page shows the publication date of 1894, in
New York and Toledo, Ohio, by J. Fischer & Bro.

Born in Conneaut, Ohio, on April 6, 1872, Agnes Catherine Gaffney was the youngest surviving child in the family of of ten Gaffney children. She was said to be "as sweet as the day was long," and her niece, Benita (McGinnis) McCormick, wrote that she had the "voice of an angel."  Her grand-niece (my mother), Joan (Schiavon) Huesca, also admired her beautiful singing voice, understandably so given that she could not carry a tune herself.

Vintage postcard of Saint Mary's Church and School,
Conneaut, Ohio

Singing in her church choir was one of the things Agnes would have been encouraged to do as an educator and influential member of her community.  I can picture her, primly dressed, opening her book during Sunday Mass at Saint Mary's Parish, which was right down the street from the Gaffney House. I can imagine her stepping forward for her solo, looking demurely down at her book and glancing up towards her family as she sang the Ave Maria in her soprano voice with all her heart.  Maybe her dulcet voice was partly the reason this hymn was a Gaffney/McGinnis family favorite.

Also in this series about Agnes Gaffney:  

• Part Two of Three:  Mystery Monday:  The Hotel LaRose
• Part Three of Three:  Workday Wednesday:  Agnes Gaffney, Teacher and Model of Virtue

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Copyright ©  2013  Linda Huesca Tully

Are you a member of the Gaffney, Huesca, McCormick, McGinnis, Olson, or Schiavon  families? Share your memories and comments below.