Emmanuel

A man lay dying in Cleveland’s Metro Hospital, having suffered burns over much of his body while attempting to rescue fellow tenants from a boarding house on the near west side. In his last moments he could be heard breathing the name “Emmanuel” repeatedly. Hospital staff did not know his true identity so they named him “Emmanuel Doe”.

The story of the fire spread throughout various reaches of cyberspace and some acquaintances began wondering if the man could be Raymond. He had attended our satellite church in Lakewood, and they knew he lived in the area. By that time his body lay in the morgue and it was my friends’ grievous task to confirm his identity.

Raymond struggled with alcoholism much of his adult life and alienated much of his family but in the end he became a hero for rescuing others from certain death. Having served faithfully in the Marines, his friends arranged his burial in Arlington National Cemetery. His astounding story reached the national news circuit.

There is profound significance in Raymond calling out the name “Emmanuel” in his last moments, for that is one of the names given to Jesus, and it means “God with us.” Though Raymond had faltered so many times throughout the course of his life, he finally had grasped the reality that God was not only with him but for him, in spite of his failings. He had grasped that truth sufficiently enough that even in his semi-consciousness he was able to call on His name. Raymond was painfully aware of his failures and perhaps that is what made it easier for him to receive the gift of Emmanuel.

Those of us with far greater means and achievements have learned to be reliant on our own strengths and resources. It takes longer for us to come to the end of ourselves and recognize our need for God’s presence. But there will come times in all of our lives when the circumstance we encounter is insurmountable in our own strength, whether it’s a fatal diagnosis, a tragic accident, a painful memory, a grievous loss.

The good news is that the name “Emmanuel” speaks to God’s very nature, that He wants to be with us, even though that’s hard for us to understand. And he wants to be with us, not just in the hard times, but in the daily disappointments and joys, the tedium and struggles, the victories and celebrations. And so my prayer this season is this:

“O holy Child of Bethlehem, descend to us, we pray;
Cast out our sin, and enter in, be born in us today.
We hear the Christmas angels the great glad tidings tell;
O come to us, abide with us, our Lord Emmanuel!
(O, Little Town of Bethlehem, lyrics by Phillips Brooks, 1867)

Many More Mothers

In honor of my father's birthday today I am finally making good on a commitment made over a year ago to profile his maternal heritage in my blog. For mother's day last year I profiled my mother's maternal heritage here: http://firstlightofdawn.blogspot.com/2009/05/many-mothers.html

My Parents:
Vinton Phillips with Elizabeth Hester Phillps
Vinton Phillips Born: November 20, 1921
Married: to Elizabeth Hester, July 15, 1946 in Huron County, Ohio
Parents: Wilmer Vinton Phillips and Mary Ida Schneiter Phillips
Children: John Robert, Deborah and Daniel



Here are my Father's mother and grandmothers:

My Paternal Grandmother:
Mary Schneiter with her husband Wilmer Vinton Phillips
Born: November 11, 1899 in Axtel, Erie County, Ohio. Married: to Wilmer Vinton Phillips, December 20, 1917, in Huron County, Ohio
Died: December 17, 1988 in New London, Huron County, Ohio
Parents: Adolph Schneiter and Lena Roth
Children: Vinton Phillips and William Phillips


My Paternal Great Grandmother:
Lena Roth with her husband Adolph Schneiter
Born: Oct 10, 1874 in Bern Switzerland
Died: May 18, 1941 in New London Ohio and buried in Fitchville Cemetery
Married: Adolph Schneiter
Parents: names unknown
Children: Anna, Mary, Lena, Marguerite, Albert and John




My Paternal Great Grandmother Lena Roth with her parents

(We don’t have names of her parents)

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My Paternal Great Grandmother
Anna Margaret Lynn with her husband William Phillips, holding my Grandfather, Wilmer Vinton Phillips
Anna Margaret Lynn : Born Feb 21, 1851 in Wyandot Co, OH Died Apr 14, 1920 in Fitchville, OH
Married: William Phillips
Parents: Celina Stevens and Melvin S. Lynn
Children: Martha Alena (aka Lena), William Wallace (aka Wally), Mary C. and Wilmer Vinton.






My Paternal Great Great Grandmother
Celina Stevens Lynn (Anna Lynn’s mother)
Born: 1830
Died: Jan 9, 1899
Married Melvin S. Lynn Aug 23, 1846 in Sherman Township, Huron Cty, OH
Parents: Catherine Saddler and William K. Stevens
Children:



My Great Great Grandmother:
Catherine Saddler (Celina Stevens mother )
Born: 1796
Died:
Married: William K. Stevens, Jan 1, 1818
Parent: Christoper Saddler and Sophia Ortz

My Grandfather Phillips' paternal grandmother (my great great Grandmother)
Mary Hartman (Born Aug 7, 1823 in Jefferson County OH
Died May 1, 1901 in Fitchville, OH
Married Thomas Phillips Sept 3, 1844 in Wellsville, Carroll Cty, OH
Parents: Sarah Saltsman and Solomon Hartman
Children: William, Sarah, Elizabeth, Mary, Martha and Thomas

My Grandfather Phillips' paternal great Grandmother (my great great great Grandmother)
Elizabeth Iser
Born: July 5, 1771 in Pennsylvania
Died: January 15, 1845 in Columbiana County
Married: William Phillips, June 18, 1792
Children: Reuben, George, Samuel, Peter, Catherine, Rachel, William, Thomas

Enriched

Reaching certain birthday milestones can elicit thoughts of how fast the years have flown, and really, where did they all go? And the things we wish would have turned out differently and how much more life we want to live in our years remaining.

But as I approach my birthday this year I have been feeling a deep sense of gratitude, primarily brought on by the re-discovery of mementos and photographs uncovered in the process of cleaning out closets and storage spaces this past spring. These artifacts from decades past, these scraps of paper representing significant experiences, these photographs capturing just a moment in time…. They all bring the past back to the front of my mind as if they happened yesterday. And with that a flood of memories, most of them good.

Blog posts generally should be shorter than this one, but the more I think about how enriched my life has been, the more I have to say and I don’t feel like condensing something so important.

Over the course of my adult life I’ve lived in 6 cities, moving from Mansfield to Columbus, to Canton to Stow/Akron to Sandusky and finally to Parma/Cleveland. And the challenge of each transition was made so much easier by the new friends and acquaintances made along the way and how we enriched one another’s lives.

My career path might seem convoluted to some, but to me it’s been a rich variety of colorful and challenging experiences and its all contributed to making me good at what I do today.

I’ve worked in a hospital laboratory, and served people with disabilities and their families in a variety of ways (I’ll save the details for another blog post). I got to travel around Ohio providing technical assistance to social service agencies. I’ve earned a living as a portrait photographer and I’ve sold cameras and worked in photo printing labs. At The City Mission I’ve produced a variety of marketing materials (newsletters, annual reports, brochures, displays and videos.) I filled in for a short time at our women’s shelter and now I’m a grant writer, but also do much of the photography and write copy for various media. I can say with certainty that in each instance I’ve given it my best.

I can look back with satisfaction on the challenges met and conquered. I aced a graduate level course in statistics. I conducted a research study in graduate school and reported the results in my master’s thesis. I climbed the 14,000 foot Mt Princeton in Colorado. I was part of a team that helped get Mike out of shackles in a state mental health hospital to living in his own place in the community. I managed a crisis intervention team serving people having both a cognitive disability and mental illness and together we got two bureaucratic systems to work together.

I’ve experienced the beauty and wonder of this land’s rich biodiversity, from Acadia National Park in Maine to the Grand Canyon and many places in between. The ocean spray, the dessert heat, the expansive skies, the vast plains, the cool mountain stream, sunrise over the Blue Ridge Mountains.

I could probably write a book on how my camera has gotten me into some very interesting places/situations, like a 12 hour ride on a lake freighter hauling iron ore, a Hungarian debutant ball, and a homeless shelter and that in turn led to a job.

Through it all my family has always been close by as together we work our way through life’s joys and challenges. The value of that is beyond measure. And what a joy it has been to watch my brothers’ children grow up into such fine adults.

Remembering in such a way seems good for the soul. It keeps a healthy perspective on all that’s gone before and provides a foundation of gratitude that keeps our dwelling standing when the storms come.

“You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed. How precious are your thoughts about me, O God. They cannot be numbered!”
Psalm 139: 16-17 NLT.

Best of all, God knows the worst about me yet he believes the best, because he sees me as what I’m becoming through His work in my life. “…we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.” Ephesians 2:10 NLT

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Happy Birthday to me...!

O for spacious skys

Sometimes I feel hemmed in by the city’s confines, a dense network of blacktop and concrete, brick, stone, steel and glass. The constant hum of motorized vehicles passing to and fro; the tidy rows of houses with barely enough room between them for a drive way; … and summertime’s open windows mean I hear more than I’d like of neighbors’ private conversations. It’s impossible to escape the noise even in the beautiful green spaces that make up our city’s “Emerald Necklace.” And it’s often difficult to obtain an unobstructed view of the natural landscape.

Most of the time I take it in stride, but this afternoon my mind is traveling to the open fields near where I grew up, and the plots of land once tilled by my grandfathers and great grandfathers, and there the people who still work the earth and fill our grocery stores. Sometimes at the four-way stops on Butler Road just outside my hometown I roll down the windows just to listen. There’s nary a sound excepting the distant bird call and wind sifting through the amber grain and the lush-green stalks of corn. “O beautiful for spacious skies, for amber waves of grain…”

Preserving memories

Beside my Dad’s desk is a built-in book case of several shelves lined with three-ring notebooks, each filled with sleeved pages of text and images, each notebook categorized by subject area. There are more such notebooks in the front closet. One is labeled “Elizabeth” for things pertaining to my mother, from her favorite recipes to her military discharge papers and photographs of her with her children.

Another is marked “Webb” pertaining to my great-great grandfather Loren Webb, and his materials overflow into other notebooks since we have a transcript of his Civil War diary, letters and other documentation of his life, including a portrait of his father and many of his Civil War comrades.

There is a notebook pertaining to military service of both he and my mother, and long lists of veterans from the local area and where they served and how long, all typed out by Dad with the “hunt and peck” method.

I think one of Dad’s favorites is the book labeled “Us” pertaining to the life that he and my mother have made together, filled with family photographs through the years and the before-and-after images of the extensive remodeling our family home has undergone in the 65 years my parents have lived there.

This past spring Dad assigned a number to each notebook and then typed up an index list noting the subject area of each. All the notebooks now sit on the shelves in numbered sequence.

After indexing his notebooks Dad announced he was not going to make any more and besides the shelves are full, but I noted that with a new great grandchild on the way, we most certainly would need to make room for at least one more notebook. Indeed, since Helena’s arrival several weeks ago, a steady flow of photographs has been pouring into his e-mail in-box.

I think the moral of the story is that in these days of living fast forward, it’s important to have ways to preserve the past, and to remember it, even the difficult times, and to experience the gratitude of a life well-lived, and to pass on those memories and values to succeeding generations.

Every day my parents have what they call a “meeting”, sitting next to each other on the couch, holding hands, reflecting on the day’s events or the days gone by. These meetings often involve pulling a notebook or two from the bookshelf for the sake of remembering. And often these meetings are punctuated with one of Dad’s favorite words, “Us.” It’s a loaded word, reflecting on all they’ve been through together, the good and the not-so-good.

Sometimes when I’m visiting I sit with them on the couch and hold hands too. And that’s a memory that can only be preserved in my heart.

Happy Father’s Day Dad! I love you.

The last hurrah

The subject of funerals has come up three times in the last couple of weeks and it’s got me to thinking.

Scenario #1, friend Lisa was disparaging of the Catholic Mass performed for her mother. From the perspective of someone whose faith is so vibrant, the religious repetitions seemed empty and meaningless.

Scenario #2, friend Mike whose sister passed away suddenly of a massive heart attack. His brother-in-law asked Mike to conduct the service. True to his wacky sense of humor they came upon the idea to reenact scenes from his sister’s favorite Monty Python movie. Then someone sang the song, I can only imagine, (about what’s on the other side) and Mike talked as friend to friend about his own faith walk and how for him it is about a relationship and not a religion. When he extended the invitation for others to come along on the same journey, quite a few took him up on the offer.

Scenario #3, the celebratory service of my cousin Gretchen (actually my mother’s cousin’s wife but I still considered her my cousin) who left meticulous instructions for how she wanted her service to be conducted. She had fought a long hard battle with multiple myeloma and such suffering can drastically change our perspective on what’s important in life (and in death). It was designed to be one last opportunity for her to share her quiet yet vital faith.

And now I’m reminded of Raymond who struggled with alcoholism much of his adult life and alienated much of his family but in the end he became a hero, attempting to rescue fellow tenants from a burning boarding house. From his dying lips he whispered the name of the One he had come to know in a personal way, Immanuel, which means “God with us.” He had made the choice to follow the God who makes His home with us in the form of Jesus, the One who forgives, heals and restores us from brokenness. Friends made sure he received burial with honors at Arlington National Cemetery and his remarkable story reached the national news circuit.

How do you want to be remembered? Perhaps your answer would change the course of your life if your current direction isn’t leading you to the desired end. You’re never too young or too old to think about it.

Our exit from this life is really not the “last hurrah,” but the beginning of eternity and that’s a really long time. It all hinges on the choice we make today to follow Him... or not.

Rainy day flowers

Taken at the Cleveland Botanical Gardens June 5, 2010. Top to bottom, Dogwood, Habiscus and Purple Foxglove, or digitalis purpurea.

Making a house a home

Though many years have transpired since leaving home, I remain forever grateful for all that my mother poured into my life.

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For all the seemingly thankless tasks, of changing diapers and wiping noses....

for all the care and nurturing, of a warm meal and a bedtime story...

for all the patient teaching, of tying shoes and making cookies...

for instilling character, of cleaning up after oneself and making amends.

And above all, for making a house a home with her loving presence.

Thank you Mom!

Happy Mother's Day, with much love.

What if

The events being commemorated this Easter weekend by millions of Christians around the world are the foundation of our faith, based on the written testimonies of eyewitnesses to these events. Indeed if these accounts are not true, we might as well call it quits. The apostle Paul said, "....if Christ has not been raised, our preaching is useless and so is your faith." (1 Corinthians 15:14 NLT).

But if these accounts are true and these events did happen, then the implications for how we live our lives are tremendous.

A person may say that they don't believe these events took place or that they have significance for us today. But the implications are too significant and serious to simply base that conclusion on personal assumptions rather than a thorough investigation of these eyewitness accounts.

Dr. Peter Stoner, Professor Emeritus of Science at Westmont College calculated the mathematical probability that one man could fulfill all of the major Old Testament prophecies about the Messiah. He determined that the probability of one man precisely fulfilling 48 of these prophecies is one in 10^157 (or a 1o with 157 zeroes behind it), or mathematically impossible. And the more specific in detail the prophecies are, the less likely they would occur by chance. Here are just seven:

The soldiers casting lots for Jesus clothing at the foot of the cross was foretold in Psalm 22: 18 and fulfilled in Mark 15: 24

That the Messiah would be betrayed by a close friend was foretold in Psalm 41: 9 and fulfilled in Luke 22: 47-48

That He would be betrayed for thirty pieces of silver was foretold in Zechariah 11: 12-13 and fulfilled in Matthew 26:14-15.

That the blood money paid for Christ's betrayal would be used to buy a potter's field was foretold in Zechariah 11: 12-13 and fulfilled in Matthew 27: 9-10.

That Christ would be scourged and spat upon was foretold in Isaiah 50:6 and fulfilled in Matthew 26: 67 and Matthew 27: 26.

That He would be crucified between two thieves was foretold in Isaiah 53: 12 and fulfilled in Matthew 27: 38; Mark 15: 27-28 and Luke 22: 37.

That Christ would suffer the piercing of his hands and feet was foretold in Psalm 22: 16 and Zechariah 12: 10 and fulfilled in Mark 15:25, John 19: 37 and John 20: 25-27.

What if...?
What if for a time or a season we laid aside our questions and doubts, even though we are justified in having them? What if we realized that God isn't threatened by our questions anyway?

What if we allowed ourselves to consider the possibility that these accounts of Jesus' life, death and resurrection may be true?

What if we allowed our hearts to imagine the possibility that Jesus really does love us so much that he would rather die than live without us?

What if His love transforms our lives....?

Orchid Mania 2010

A few of my favorite photos from this year's orchid show at the Cleveland Botanical Gardens..

Sacred Sorrow

Among the papers my great-great Grandfather Martin M. Hester left behind is a large collection of family letters, and many from his sister Eliza. During the Civil War, news from the battle front came painfully slow. Eliza's three sons all served in the Civil War and her letters during that time conveyed the news she had heard from them, or the war news passed around town.

Eliza had lost her first-born son in 1834 when he was only 15 months old. Then her first husband died the day before her last child was born, March 5, 1839. With her remaining sons away serving in the war, she and her second husband Elisha struggled to keep the farm going with fewer hands to help. Between the letters from her sons, they could only wait and pray for their safe return.

In a letter dated October 9, 1863 Eliza conveys the sad news that her son George had fallen as a sacrifice in the Battle of Chickamauga, Georgia on September 20, 1863. He had served in the 44th Indiana Volunteer Infantry.

Berea Oct 9th, 1863

Dear Brother and Friends:
Knowing your anxiety to hear from the boys I will drop you a few lines. I should have written yesterday but we did not go to the office till after noon.
We have sad news from the battle. Poor George has fallen a sacrifice for his country, I feel sad to hear such news. Had hoped they might be spared to return home in safety, but I feel now that our ranks are broken. The Lord gives grace, I still trust Him, a number have fallen from this place, one the only son, and his Mother a widow. He said tell my mother I die trusting in the Savior. He was a member of Elisha’s class. Oh how many sad hearts and homes this wicked war is making. I feel sorry for the boys, they will miss George so much, there is not many boys that thought more of each other than they did....

The three flags by Eliza's headstone testify to her sons' service. Thankfully her remaining sons John and James survived the war. But in the end, Eliza outlived four sons and two husbands, and still was strong in her faith.

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".....if our hope in Christ is only for this life, we are more to be pitied than anyone in the world. ....Christ was raised as the first of the harvest; then all who belong to Christ will be raised when he comes back."
1 Corinthians 15: 19 and 23 NLT

January 31, 1870

The diaries of my great-great grandfather Martin M. Hester (see previous post) primarily record the daily routine of his work on the homestead (1869-1871). But in January of 1870 a series of extraordinary events took place. In the following excerpts he is making reference to his father, Martin Hester. Let the story unfold before you as you read...

Friday, January 28 -We all went to [church] meeting in A.M Good meeting, most in the house came forward. Father spoke with much feeling "That God had preserved his life for more than 82 years and crowned all his life with blessing and that all his children and many of his grandchildren were Christians. He felt like Simeon of old, "Now Lord let thy servant depart in peace." [referencing Luke 2: 25-32]. Eve-We all went to church. More than 60 forward as Christians and 9 as seekers. Powerful meeting.

Saturday, January 29 -We all went to meeting. More than 60 forward as Christians and 10 as seekers. Father was among the first to go forward and spoke with much feeling. Toward eve Father had a stroke..... fell from North door of wagon house and found him about ½ past 3 o’clock. Carried him in. Got Dr. Hard to see him. Right side is useless, cannot speak. Mary and I took care of him. Dr. stayed all night.

Sunday, January 30 -Mary and I took care of Father. Dr. stayed all day but nothing could be done for Father. He cannot swallow nor speak. Seemed to know us some. Finlay went to Norwich. William went to Monroeville for Samuel and to Norwalk to telegraph for Eliza. John, Samuel and Matthias came. Father is failing.

Monday, January 31 - Took care of Father all day. At 6 o’clock in the Eve he died in great peace. Had not spoken for 48 hours but had left a clear testimony in the church of his evidence of the love of God in his heart. (Children all here. Eliza had come about noon. Father seemed to know her. It was about the last he noticed anyone.) R. Barker Truxell and Danforth laid out corpse after which we had prayers. H. Adams led the devotions. John, Samuel and I followed.

Tuesday, February 1 -Matthias and I went to Norwalk for coffin (in his sleigh). Made arrangements for funeral, for the digging of the grave &c.

Wednesday, February 2 - Funeral met at the house. A great many came at 10 o’clock. Wm.M. Conant made prayer (after a hymn was sung.) Went to grave yard and buried corpse [across the road from their home]. We went to the church. Very full. W.M.C. preached a very good and appropriate sermon. Text - Numbers 23c 10vs. D.M. Pratt made closing prayer.

Note the text - Numbers 23: 10b : "Let me die the death of the righteous, and may my end be like theirs!" This was later inscribed on Martin's headstone.

What a treasure our family has in this personal account of the last days of my great-great-great grandfather Martin Hester, his strong profession of faith and his "departing in peace," on this day, 140 years ago.

My great-great-great grandparents-

Martin Hester (September 6, 1787 - January 31, 1870) and

Mary (Stough) Hester (February 15, 1789 - June 15, 1863):

Agriculture circa 1869

I usually spend about 95% of my work day (the part in which I earn income) in a seated position, either in front of a computer or in meetings. So tonight I'm spending more time in front of a computer to tell the story of a man who spent probably 95% of his work day on his feet.

Martin M. Hester, my great great grandfather, left behind at least a few years of diaries primarily recording the tasks completed each day on the homestead and the business transactions completed, as well as notes about who stopped by to visit and church services attended. He wrote entries for every day. Here are some excerpts [with some additional explanatory notes in brackets]. Mary is his wife, William, Finlay and Catherine are his children. Frank is hired help that lived with them. I am descended from Finlay.

Jan 4 - William, Frank and I sawed at the big tree. Twice through over 5 feet through. Catherine came to see the tree. [this would be with a hand saw which has to be at least twice as long as the diameter of the tree to remove the sawdust].
Jan 7 - Frank and I split and sawed at big tree, think it will make staves and heading sets [used to construct barrels]. Filed saw, it works much better, sawed the log off twice.
Jan 15 - Sawed black walnut long at R.S. Danforth's woods. PM - wove some wire [he was making screens to sell for use in threshing machines]. Got ready to butcher hogs. Butchered 4 hogs, weights 136, 144, 294, 300. [they also had constructed an ice house for cold storage, cutting ice blocks from the river and storing tightly packed together in a small building insulated with saw dust].
Feb 4 - Hauled six logs from the west woods to the mill. One soft maple, 5 oak, 2 - 10 feet long, 2 12 feet, 1 -14 feet
Feb 25- Dipped 47 1/2 doz. candles, 27 dips, 65 lbs tallow, took all day.
Feb 26- Finlay and I worked at forge, made 32 drag teeth and 20 meet hooks... William and I worked at cultivator, Finlay helped.
March 1 - Went to Center of Bronson to see Township trustee. They agreed to make an appropriation of $30 to cover the bridge if I put in iron bars. [citizens were called upon to maintain roads and bridges].
March 25 - Tapped 72 trees [to collect sap for maple syrup]. Good deal of snow on the ground.
April 5 - We gathered 5 or 6 barrels sap and boiled it. Worked some in the shop.
April 30 - Went to mill, finished sawing pickets. Went to blacksmith shop. Hero [draft horse]
had gravel in his foot, quite lame.
May 2 Sunday - I am Sunday School Superintendent. 20 scholars
May 5 - Let Mr Nurm have 3 hives of bees on shares to return the old stock and half the increase and half the honey. Weight of hives, 25, 28, 28. Marked corn rows in No. 2 [field number]. Have 4 young calves to feed. One cow had twin calves.
June 1 - Frank ditched water off potatoes. I made boxes for melons. Cut stone for cellar steps.
June 2- Took up the cellar steps, Frank and I commenced to lay up steps and wall to cellar way.
June 19 - Sheared 24 sheep, Frank sheared 12, William 8, Finlay 4. Cleaned the cellar, fixed the hinge on the lower door. Put hinges on the outside door. Sacked wool for Eastman, 111 fleece [from 111 sheep] in 2 sacks.
July 20 - Rainy morning, heavy rain, ground very wet. Cannot go in the field with [horse] team. Cut wheat by hand. Rain in the afternoon, had to quit.

What he doesn't mention in his diary is the daily round of chores, in particular caring for all the animals- cows, sheep, pigs, chickens, turkeys. If that weren't enough he also made/sold wagon spokes, staves and headings for barrels, lumber, sidewalk planks and screens for grain threshers. Farm products sold at market included hay, cattle, hogs, dressed chickens, smoked hams, bees, honey, butter, eggs, potatoes, apples and apple cider/vinegar, applebutter, as well as peaches, cherries and maple syrup.

In addition to that he had responsibilities at the church, helping to keep the building in repair and arriving early to start a fire in the stove. I'm certain his wife Mary was just as industrious with her household chores and feeding hungry workers. Toward the end of his life Martin compiled the history and genealogy of the Hester/Stough families and had it published.

His attention to the family history, diaries and other record keeping has enriched our lives immensely. Herein is a lesson that one can never be too busy to trace the moments of our days on paper.

Schneiter story

I was eating a sauerkraut and pork dinner with my Mom and Dad a few weeks ago and Dad recalled that his Schneiter grandparents (Lena and Adolph) always had a crock of sauerkraut in the basement and served it at just about every meal and often had a nice chunk of meat to go with it. He also noted that city folk kept their sauerkraut outside and had their bathroom inside, while country folk had their sauerkraut inside and their bathroom outside. Go figure.

Thanks to my Great Aunt Hazel Schneiter, we can piece together some of the story of my Great Grandparents Adolph and and Lena (her husband Albert's parents). She took the time to record her recollections in writing.

Adolph and Lena were teenagers when they came across the ocean from Switzerland on a paddle boat but somehow they didn't meet each other until they arrived in America. They settled in Axtel, a little four-corners just south of Vermillion, Ohio. They had eight children, two of which passed away in infancy. Of the remaining six was my Dad's mother, Mary Schneiter Phillips and also Anna (Beckloff), Lena (Beers), Marguerite (Spangler) and finally the two youngest, Albert and John.

When my grandmother was just a girl the family moved from their farm in Axtel to another farm in Hartland Township in my home county. They loaded all their possessions in a wagon pulled by horses and they drove the cattle along with them on foot. Sometime later they moved from Hartland Township to a farm on Exchange Road outside my hometown of New London. Initially their house was on the west side of the road but apparently that didn't suit Adolph so he had it moved across the road with a steam engine.

Several years later they moved around the corner to another farm on Prospect Road where they remained the rest of their years. They also owned a 46 acre farm across the road, but never lived there. That house stood empty for twenty years until 1940 when Hazel and Albert began to restore in and moved in January, 1941.

The story is told that Adolph was often made his way to or from town on foot and invariably someone would stop to pick him up. Everyone knew him. The story also is told that when he got weary of family gatherings he would take off for home on foot across the fields.

Today the land that Adolph and Lena farmed is owned by Loren Kamm, a local mega-farmer that acquired many properties and is part of the group my Dad is in that gets together for coffee at McD's every morning. Albert and Hazel's farm is now occupied by his son Paul.






My Great Grandparents

Lena Roth Schneiter 10/10/1874--5/18/1941
Adolph Schneiter 9/19/1868 -- 2/15/1947










Lena Roth with her parents







Adolph Schneiter standing (left) with brother and parents