Thriller Thursday: Kidnapped!

A teacher on the run. A bounty hunter in pursuit. Can two enemies learn to trust each other before they both lose what they hold most dear?

Houston station and car from Galveston-Houston Interurban Railroad, 1915. Courtesy of Special Collections, University of Houston Libraries.

Karen Witemeyer is one of my favorite authors, and after reading the sneak peak of A Worthy Pursuit included with her recent novella, Love on the Mend, I was so excited for the rest. If you want to know what I thought of it, you can check out my review here (and over on Pinterest, my kitty weighs in, too. Pun intended.)

Now, don’t think “inspirational historical romance” means this story is light or frothy. This book confronted my ill-formed assumptions about 1890s Texas. I had an idea that it was a dangerous and lawless time and place. There’s plenty of action and danger in this novel, but the characters are very specific about their choices to live within or without the confines of the law. (It is sometimes a razor-wire edge, mind you!) With this in mind, I wondered what I could learn from the Austin Weekly Stateman archives at the Library of Congress Chronicling America site.

And wouldn’t you know, I happened across a news story very similar to the set-up of A Worthy Pursuit, featuring a mother who kidnapped her child from an Austin school! Two updates appeared on the same page–

The Austin Weekly Statesman, March 25, 1897, Page 5.

KIDNAPPED HER CHILD

Mrs. Tillie Sweeny of Galveston yesterday forenoon, in a closed carriage, drove out to St. Edward’s college, and persuading her boy, Morreau, aged 15 years, to get into the carriage with her, she drove rapidly back to town, and she and her son took the noon train for Houston.

The story as told is about as follows:

Mrs. Sweeny is the divorced wife of Mr. Tom Sweeny of Galveston, who at one time was a prominent ship broker and is still prominent and popular in business circles in the Island City, where he has a host of friends.

In his case for divorce the court gave him custody of his two boys and gave the mother custody of their only daughter.

A short time ago Mr. Sweeny brought his eldest boy to Austin and placed him in St. Edward’s college, a prominent and excellent school for boys and young men.

A few days ago the divorced wife and mother of the boy reached Austin, and, it is said, she has been endeavoring to get her son to leave the school and go with her, but up to yesterday morning he has steadily refused to comply with her wishes.

Yesterday morning, however, as stated, she succeeded in getting him off, and a short time after he was missed from the college and grounds.

It seems the little fellow had divulged the mission of his mother to Father Kline, president of the college, and other teachers, and as soon as he was missed it was correctly concluded he had gone off with his mother, who, under the decision of the court at Galveston, has no legal control over him. The officials of the college hurried to town, hoping to intercept the boy but they were a little too late, the train for Houston, having on board Mrs. Sweeny and her son, having pulled out.

Under the law it appeared to be a clean cut case of kidnapping, and a complaint was made against Mrs. Sweeny and a warrant issued for her arrest.

It was placed in the hands of Sheriff White, who at once telephoned to Sheriff Teague of Washington county to watch for the train from Austin and arrest and hold Mrs. Sweeny and her boy.

Sheriff Teague did his duty and ‘phoned back that he had the two in custody, and Sheriff White left for Brenham last night on the 8 o’clock train, and if Mrs. Sweeny is unable to give bond there he will bring her to Austin today.

And the update (misspellings from the original)–

THAT KIDNAPING.

Mrs. Sweeny Brought in From Brenham and Bound Over to the Grand Jury.

Mrs. Tillie Sweeny of Galveston, against whom a charge of kidnaping was made, Thursday, as mentioned in yesterday’s Statesman, was brought in from Brenham yesterday morning by Sheriff White. Her brother, J. S. Brown, a prominent business man of Galveston, and the kidnaped boy accompanied her.

On reaching the city Mrs. Sweeny promptly gave bond, Representative Harris of Galveston going on it, and Mr. J. S. Brown promptly returned the boy to St. Edward’s college, and so far as that institution is concerned the matter between them and Mrs. Sweeny is at an end and the law will take its course.

Through her attorneys, Robertson & Hogg, last afternoon, she waived examination in Justice Johnson’s court and was bound over to the grand jury in the sum of $500, which, of course, was promptly given.

Mrs. Sweeny is wealthy and prominent in society in Galveston, where she is highly connected and very popular. She has some acquaintances and warm friends in Austin.

Mr. J. S. Brown and Mrs. Sweeny left for Galveston last night.

Unfortunately, the case of the Sweeny kidnapping leaves imagining us the heartbreak and division of a story with no winners. I love historical stories, but between these two, it’s no contest. I much prefer Karen Witemeyer’s romantic and inspirational tale!

A Worthy Pursuit is available on Kindle, other eReaders, and in print.

A Worthy Pursuit by Karen Witemeyer

I received a free copy of this book from the publisher for review purposes; my opinions are my own!

PS… Speaking of fiction for genealogy-lovers, here are 7 great novels for genealogists!

Friday’s Faces from the Past: Introducing Laura Broadway (AND a book update!)

Since today is my birthday (woo-hoo!) I’m sharing one of my very favorite finds with you!

To know her is to love her

I “met” Laura Broadway at the local antique shop. Sadly, this cabinet card lacks a photographer’s mark, but I’m guessing she lived in Illinois based on clues from other photos in the same group. Inconveniently, there are no guarantees that the whole pile of pictures all came from the same attic, so it’s really just a guess.

I made her acquaintance via her note penned on the back.

Dear Cousin Orpha I send you this my Photo as you know I am much Better looking than this is when you want the Milk to sour quick hold this Photo over it your affectionate Cousin Laura Broadway

(If you love this as much as I do, you can see the scan here.)

Don’t know about you, but I like her. She’s got vinegar–enough to sour milk, evidently!

The search begins

Of course, while poking around on FamilySearch, I couldn’t find her. Or rather, I found Laura Broadways, but I had no way to narrow down the field. The name was simply too common…

…which gave me the idea to look for Orpha Broadway.

This too was a guess–after all, cousins may or may not share a surname. None of mine are Heinemans, after all. That’s just how the apples fell from the tree.

However, I did find an Orpha Broadway. In Illinois, no less.

I do believe this tree bears more shaking than I have room for today, but this is a mystery I want to revisit, and soon…!

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“As you know, I am much better looking than this is”… [Tweet this]

Finally, a use for those unflattering photos! [Tweet this]

Also, I have a novel update!

Just in time for my birthday! Whispers in the Branches is in the final stages of production and may be available as early as next week. It’s received several warm endorsements, including this one:

In Whispers in the Branches, debut author Brandy Heineman pens a fast-paced, entertaining and ultimately touching story mixed with ghosts and genealogy and sprinkled with God.  Her delicious prose sizzles and soars as she introduces grieving Abby Wells who uproots her life in Ohio to search for family secrets in Georgia.  Abby encounters a haunted house, a feisty great aunt and a young, handsome caretaker in her new surroundings as she grapples with grief, the truth of her family’s past and the unseen presence of something deep and spiritual.

–Elizabeth Musser, author of The Swan House,The Sweetest Thing,The Secrets of the Cross trilogy

It’s exciting and humbling that I’ll soon have my very first book out there to offer to all of you. :)

What I know…

I have some good tid-bits for your this time–

The ebook edition of To Win Her Heart by Karen Witemeyer is on sale. Pretty sure this deal ends today, so if you want it, get it now. Karen is one of my favorite authors, and I loved this book so much!

Also, those of you on Twitter should know about two fun genealogy chats:

#GenChat meets every other Friday night (10 ET/ 9 CT). It’s hosted by pro genealogist Jen Baldwin, and covers a specific topic in a Q&A format. It’s a fun way to learn and get a variety of perspectives on how to approach various research opportunities.

#AncestryHour is a newer gathering held every Tuesday at 7PM Greenwich Mean Time, which is in the middle of the afternoon for USA tweeters like yours truly. This is an open-ended link-sharing and question-asking free-for-all, and is an especially good place for UK and Scottish researchers.

That’s all for now!

Thriller Thursday: A Moment That Changes Everything

On my last trip to the antique shop, I found this postcard with a note to Mr. Carl Shartle of Meadville, Pennsylvania on the back.

I forget sometimes that rural Pennsylvania life wasn’t all churning butter and butchering chickens. The dancing pavilion was a fixture of Exposition Park at Conneaut Lake, Pennsylvania. In its time, it was called “one of the best equipped summer resorts in the State.” (Source, 1911.) It also boasted a bathing house on the lake, a hotel, and a racetrack. For Carl and his family, dancing, boating and betting were only ten miles up the road if they cared to indulge.

I will say that I knew the odds of this being a relic of a forgotten romance were slim to nil when I bought the postcard. As I was researching, though, there came a moment that changed everything. This light-hearted “Mystery Monday” post transformed into a grimmer “Thriller Thursday” entry. Ye faint-hearted, proceed with caution.

I should have known. Something about the lack of enthusiasm in the note planted a question mark in my mind. I know I’m bringing a modern sensibility to this, but the phrase “OK Sat eve” just doesn’t brim with excitement, does it?

No endearments. No signature. Presumably, Carl knew who accepted his invitation for Saturday night, but I’m thinking like a woman here. My husband knows who he’s married to, but I don’t miss an opportunity to scrawl “<3B” on my little notes to him, even if they’re just about heating up leftovers.

Although the photo side of the postcard is dated August 24, 1909, there’s (once again) no stamp and therefore no postmark dating the message. Did Rural Free Delivery require postage? And actually, since we have no way of knowing whether the postcard found its way to the antique shop via his old collected papers or hers, there’s nothing to say this note was ever actually delivered.

Perhaps it was, and Carl enjoyed a lovely evening with the sender. Or endured a wretched one.

Perhaps it was not sent, and he was left without an answer.

Maybe she wrote out her response, and then changed her mind. I have unsent letters socked away in shoeboxes—maybe this was one of hers. Who knows?

First, a little context

Here’s what we do know.

Carl R. Shartle was the son of John E. Shartle and Eliza Bower. He was born in Vernon, Crawford county Pennsylvania in August 1890 (though there’s some minor conflict over the exact date), and he died of tuberculosis in Cornplanter Township PA on December 7, 1937. (Source: Death certificate.) Only 47 and single.

I took a stroll through the census records, as one does when meeting a new quarry for the first time. It looks like he lived in Vernon for most of his life (although y’all might know how I feel about making that particular assumption). Harmonsburg Road still exists, and on the aerial map view, it’s surrounded by lots and lots of green. Here’s what I learned:

1900: At age 9, Carl attended school 8 months that year—better than a number of the neighboring children.

1910: Carl was enumerated twice. On April 16, 1910, he’s listed as the brother of John Fred Shartle, staying with his wife and daughter in Sharon PA. He’s working as a storekeeper of the Gun Works.

He’s also listed on April 20, 1910 as the son in his parents’ household. John and Eliza married in about 1888, his second marriage, her first. She is listed as having one child, and “Karl” is listed with them. This time, Carl’s occupation is given as bookkeeper of the Gun Works.

In the overall context of his life in farming, I looked on his job at the Gun Works as a possible manifestation of the rebellion of youth. It looked to me like striking out on his own, away from his parents’ farm. Then I found a more likely reason for his job.

As for his actual residence, my conclusion is that Carl was actually living with his brother. Moms have a tendency to believe that their babies’ real homes are with them, always.

1920: Maybe she was right, too. Carl lived with his parents, working as farm labor.

1930: Carl took his father’s place as head of household, and his mother lived with him.

(A peek at the 1880 Federal Census to find Fred before Carl’s time reveals that the brothers also had an older sister named May; other sources here and here suggest she later became Mrs. Powers H Kineston.)

Asking questions, digging deeper

Carl’s 1917 draft registration card poses a question, too. The biographical details are consistent with the other sources, and the card gives us his basic physical description, so we know that he was tall, of medium build, with light brown hair and gray eyes. He also claimed his mother and father depended on him for support, and in the section about physical disabilities, he reported that his right eye was weak.

If catching the mood of an email or reading between the lines of a text message is tricky, then so is deciphering a man’s circumstances (and honesty) from the sparse remarks on a draft registration card. Sometimes it’s hard to know just what a man was hoping for. Did this fairly represent Carl’s reality, or was this an overstatement of his hardships?

The Moment That Changes Everything

I needed to find more on the Shartle family, and I wasn’t finding much in Ancestry’s newspaper collection. I thought I’d try Fulton History—mostly a source for New York papers, but my rural Pennsylvania folks turn up sometimes. Maybe Carl would, too.

My search only found one result, but it was enough to change the tone of this story and nestle the puzzle pieces into a sad, sensible picture.

The Post, Ellicottville, NY, Wednesday November 25, 1908.

“Carl Shartle, aged 17, of Beatty Station, near Meadville, Pa., was accidentally shot in the face, Friday, and he is in serious condition, though he may recover. He was helping with the fall butchering. James Kineston, a brother-in-law, had shot a hog with a rifle, but did not kill it, and Carl seized the animal and, not being able to manage it alone, called for help. Mr. Kineston responded, first laying the rifle across a barrel, and a moment later the gun was discharged, the bullet striking Carl in the left cheek. The bullet passed through the boy’s cheek and the roof of his mouth and the base of his nose, lodging under the right eye.”

A confirmed bachelor.

A woman’s reluctance.

A desk job for a farm boy.

A weak eye confessed on a draft card.

A man with a disfigured face, the awful souvenir of a moment that changed everything.

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Sometimes it’s hard to know what a man is hoping for… [Tweet this]

She said yes… but with no endearments, and no signature. [Tweet this]

Greetings for Washington’s BirthDay

 

Confession time: I bought this postcard at the antique store quite a while ago. In fact, before I fell off the blogging wagon for a time, this was supposed to go up last February.

“Better late then ever,” indeed. [Tweet this]

Gertrude Walker of Hudson, Michigan was born April 6, 1898, a daughter of James and Della Walker (1). Since this postcard wants a stamp and shows no sign that it once had one that was lost along the way, let’s hope it was hand-delivered. Or, depending on how late the greeting was, perhaps Agnes realized Gertrude’s birthday was coming up and tucked away this belated card in favor of a more timely one.

And for those of us who are not buying a car or new furniture this Presidents’ Day, maybe it’s a good day to call or text someone just to say, “Hey! Haven’t talked in a while. How’ve you been?”

Better late than never.

Those Places Thursday: A Love Note from Star Lake NY?

When I found this postcard, I wanted it to be a whisper in a love story. There’s nothing to say it isn’t, but as is so often the case with my antique-store finds, I can’t prove a thing.

The first time I read Humphrey’s postcard, it struck me as a shy overture. His note isn’t about mountains or exams. It’s about distance and time.

Right now, I’m close to where you are, but before long we’ll both be back at school.

However, he didn’t make an appeal. Maybe he feared rejection. Maybe I am mistaken.

I tried to skip straight to their happily-ever-after. The first thing I sought was a marriage license for Humphrey and Katharine, but I didn’t find one. I couldn’t even find them both associated with one place at the same time, other than while temporarily vacationing in the Adirondacks. They had school in common, but not the same school: he went to Harvard; she went to Vassar.

They both married other people in weddings that received huge society write-ups, and that is how I discovered what else they held in common. Abridged for length:

J. F. Adams Weds Katharine Place

The Sun. (New York, New York.) Friday, November 10, 1916.

“Miss Katharine Place, daughter of Ira A. Place, vice-president of the New York Central Railroad, and Mrs. Place, was married to James Fairchild Adams, a son of Mr. and Mrs. William Crittenden Adams, yesterday afternoon in the Church of the Messiah by the Rev. John Haynes Holmes, pastor of the church. . . .

“The bridegroom was graduated from Princeton in 1915 and the bride from Vassar last June.

“After the marriage ceremony there was a reception at the Hotel Biltmore. . . .”

Wedding of Miss Wood And Capt. J. H. Hustis Jr.

The Brooklyn Daily Eagle. New York, Tuesday, June 24, 1919.

“Miss Elise Wood, daughter of Mrs. Wood and the late Dr. Philip M Wood, who was a prominent physician of Long Island, was married last evening to Capt. J. Humphrey Hustis Jr., son of Mr. and Mrs. James H. Hustis of Winchester, Mass. It was a home wedding, taking place at the Wood residence, 431 Fulton st., Jamaica. The Rev. Rockland Tyng Homans, rector of Grace Episcopal Church of Jamaica, officiated. . . .

“A reception followed the ceremony. Upon their return from a honeymoon tour, Mr. and Mrs. Hustis will reside in Manhattan.

“The bride was graduated from Packer Collegiate Institute, class of 1917. She is a member of the Motor Corps of the National League for Women’s Servise (sic), and during the war was active in Red Cross work.

“Capt. Hustis’ father, James H. Hustis, is receiver for the Boston and Maine Railroad and District Director of the United States Railroad Administration for New England.

“Capt. Hustis was graduated from Harvard, class of 1915, and is a member of the Harvard Chapter of Phi Beta Kappa. When the United States entered the war he was granted a leave of absence from the New York Central Railroad to take a commission in the Corps of Engineers, U.S. Army. He sailed for France in July 1917, with the 14th U.S. Engineers, which was among the first regiments to see active service at the front, being brigaded with the British Army. Capt. Hustis returned from France in April of this year, and will resume his connection with the New York Central Railroad.”

How . . . Romantic?

Humphrey and Katharine were the well-connected children of important railroad executives, and both had ties to the New York Central Railroad. It makes me wonder if their relationship might have been different than I first imagined. Perhaps they were “a sensible match,” but the spark just wasn’t there.

Ah, well. I’ll end it my way: star-crossed at Star Lake.

We’ll always have the Adirondacks. Here’s lookin’ at you, kid.

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Is this 1911 postcard a whisper of young love? We may never know. [Tweet this]

No skipping to the Happily Ever After of this love story… [Tweet this]

Question for You

Be honest: got any old love notes that might end up in a genealogist’s future research?