In "An Unidentified Picture," I described how I couldn't find my adopted great-grandmother, Minnie, or her son (my grandfather) in the 1910 and 1920 census records. Being missed in one census can be regarded as a misfortune, but being absent from two begins to look like something more than carelessness (to misquote Lady Bracknell). I'd also found that cryptic bequest in the will of Magdalena Mohr, Minnie's adoptive mother, leaving $2000 to "Erwin Feltz who resides in Monroe, Michigan, who was raised by me." Why was Minnie's adoptive mother raising Minnie's son? Since I was able to locate my great-grandfather, Alfred Feltz, in those census records, I knew that Minnie and Erwin weren't with him; by 1910, he was in California and married to Lulu Benson, where he died in February of 1914, widowing Martha Charske.
While using genetic genealogy to try to identify Minnie's birth parents, I became so fascinated by the people I was researching, Richard Moffatt, who I believed to be her father and the still-mysterious Libby Barker, who I believed to be her mother, that I blew the budget and subscribed to some new-to-me historical newspaper databases. There are three main companies that provide commercial subscription access to digitized and indexed historical newspapers: Newspaperarchives, Newspapers, and GenealogyBank. There are also many wonderful free repositories, such as Chronicling America, and NYSHistoricalNewspapers (New York State). If you're searching, always check out the websites for the local library and the newspaper, itself, to see what they link to, as there are lots of little stand-alone digitizing projects out there. Digitization - scanning in the text image and then using OCR (Optical Character Recognition) to create an index that allows searching -- is not perfect, by any means, but it sure beats scrolling through microfilm on a mechanical reader in a library that's too far across the country to get to, anyway. Digitizing methods are always improving, and more papers are added every day. So, with my upgraded access, I put in a few of my "old" searches to see whether anything new popped up. And something definitely did.
The OCR was smart enough to pick out "Magdalene Mohr of Monroe," and "Irvin Feltz," which just about knocked me over. Our only option for a furrin langwich in high school had been Spanish and the Gothic script on top of the German was a bit of a stumper. I imported the text into Google translate and then to make really sure, I hired a translator online ($20, overnight turn-around!) to give me a faithful rendition of the article:
From the hints provided thus far, I'd suspected that wherever Minnie and Erwin were during those missing years, it wasn't going to be a cheerful story, but this sensationalistic report took me aback, to say the least. There were significant issues with the story: Minnie was still with her adopted parents in June of 1900 for the census, so "37 years ago" is nonsense. While Evans may have claimed he was Erwin's father, DNA tells me otherwise -- I know my great-grandfather was, indeed, Alfred Feltz, the man named on Erwin's baptismal certificate (something of which I'm not very proud; it doesn't seem like Alfred was a very good person). And at the time of the writing, Mr. Mohr was definitely not living "in the best of circumstances," having passed away two years previous.
I had found a death certificate for "Minnie Feltz" in Detroit, but it contained very little actual information except for age, 33, while "my" Minnie was 37. Still, it indicated residence at time of death as 123 Congress Street, and my grandfather's delayed birth certificate application did say he grew up "on Congress Street." This newspaper story, however, seemed to confirm that the death certificate was Minnie's.
For a time, 125 Congress Street East was a Boy's home. The Xaverian Brothers are a Catholic religious order whose members focus on teaching. In 1911, a huge new facility was built a few blocks away.
Thomas Evans, who apparently took Erwin in after his mother died, was a 56-year-old widower who lived at 153 E Congress Street with his two daughters, Ida and Mabel, and operated a boarding house. Clara Gibson, who was the witness to Erwin's 1904 baptism, lived at 88 E Congress, and the church of Sts. Peter and Paul where he was baptized was about 2 blocks east.
I had found an 1897 marriage for Alfred Feltz to Josephine Keller in Essex, Ontario, just across the Detroit river (and international border) from Detroit. On May 7, 1900, Alfred filed for divorce from Josephine, citing adultery. I thought that the couple had divorced but found the record of the 1900 filing to be scribbled over, which apparently means "I take it back," as he re-filed in 1907 (this one was granted). But why is everyone so bad at the math in these articles?
So I don't know the whole story, and I may never know. But there are a few facts:
As of the 1880 census, the Mohrs had been married for 7 years but had no children. Jacob, raised on a farm, operated a grocery store. They lived next door to Lena's parents. As of the 1900 census, Minnie had joined the Mohrs, but whomever spoke to the census taker made it clear that she was an "adopted daughter."
Jacob Mohr's 1912 Obituary makes no mention of a daughter, adopted or otherwise.
Erwin must have been conceived in August, 1903. It's hard to imagine how Minnie and Alfred got to know one another. The Mohrs were very Catholic and the Feltz family was Lutheran. The two were the same age, but wouldn't have been in school together. Yet, clearly, they did get together.
Although Erwin's 1904 baptismal certificate indicates that his parents are married, Alfred was still married to Josephine Keller; he couldn't legally marry Minnie until at least 1907. I've learned that "staged" marriages were actually a thing back then, to fool young women into thinking they were legally married. Somehow, I doubt Alfred would go to the trouble.
City Directories show Alfred Feltz at addresses within a few blocks of 123 E Congress from 1900-1910.
I have scoured the 1910 census and I just don't think Minnie and Erwin are there. The implication is that they lived "under the radar," without 'legitimate' housing or employment. This breaks my heart.
In March of 1910, Alfred married Lulu Benson across the river in Canada. Within a month, he was enumerated in California for the 1910 census with Lulu and with Arthur Feltz, his son from his marriage to Josephine Keller.
Minnie must have told some of the people around her at least some of her story, as Evans knew to go looking for the Mohrs after she died.
As a researcher, it's important to remain objective and not theorize ahead of data. However, I'm also human. So here's what I think: Minnie and the Mohrs did not have a good relationship. I suspect that the Mohrs adopted partially as a Christian gesture and partially to obtain someone to care for them as they aged. I don't think they bargained on a thinking, feeling young woman who likely was emotionally damaged before she ever came to them. .
Did Minnie perhaps assist her adopted father in his grocery store? Was that how she came to meet the charismatic (after all, he convinced at least three women to marry him!) Alfred Feltz before the day she "ran out the door and was never heard from again"?
Can you hear the same echo I do across the years, Lena Mohr sternly intoning "if you go out that door, don't you EVER come back"? Minnie never went back...
The Mohrs' religion did affect Minnie -- she had Erwin baptized by the Jesuits. But she obviously never felt she could return to her adoptive parents, no matter how bad things got. How long were Minnie and Alfred together before he moved on? Were the heart valve problems that caused her death from privation in the orphanage, or did Minnie's heart just finally break?
How did my grandfather come by the photograph of his mother, taken in Battle Creek? He wrote on his social security applications that he was born in that city, yet that photo was taken well before he was born. Did he grow up with only that picture and no other information about his mother?
On those same applications, Erwin wrote that his father, Alfred, was an "Actor." Was that a connection made when someone told him the man had gone to California, to Los Angeles? Was this the real reason my father searched phone books for others with the last name of "Feltz" all those years on our annual California to Iowa pilgrimages, because he had heard that same story from his father? Did my grandfather know that he was illegitimate, and did that 'secret' contribute to my grandparents' reputation of being insular and aloof? What happened to Erwin after Lena Mohr became his guardian? He is not with her in the 1920 census and was not in the Catholic boarding school there in Monroe. I applied to the Wayne County, Michigan, probate courts for information about his guardianship/adoption with Lena last summer, but haven't heard anything.
I may never know, but I'll keep looking. Monroe's newspapers have not been digitized; poor quality microfilm is available at the local library there. In the meantime, additional articles may pop up, like this one did recently. There are still a lot of math problems, but it's a bit more believable than the article in the German language paper:
And I still don't know how Minnie came to Detroit from New York. It is strange to say (because "think horses, not zebras") but the most likely answer seems to be the "Orphan Trains," organized in New York to carry urban children to what were perceived to be more healthful lives of opportunity in the agricultural Midwest. If that's the case, Jacob and Lena probably would have specified a child that had been baptized as a Catholic, and most Catholic orphan train riders were processed through the New York Foundling Asylum. I've sent off proof of my relationship to Minnie and a request for any records they may have -- fingers crossed!