Genealogical Inspirations: Busting Down A Brick Wall With The 1930 US Census

The 1930 U.S. Census. Enumeration District 15-173, Sheet No. 2A. Buffalo (Erie) New York. (Source: Ancestry.com)

This post is a part of a “Genealogical Inspirations” series I am writing — sharing my own early personal genealogy milestones — to commemorate the public release of the 1940 U.S. Census on April 2nd.

In my last post, I mentioned how my grandfather, Michael John Flangan, was orphaned at a very young age (never adopted), separated from his brothers, and spent much of his adult life trying to find answers about his family history. Grandpa died in 1997; I didn’t take up family research until 2001.

Because my grandfather knew so little about his family, he didn’t leave behind the documents and clues so many children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren benefit from when researching their family history. He also didn’t have a lot of pertinent family stories, names, and places verbally passed down to his children. And my grandmother – who kept the family records — passed away well before Grandpa. None of Michael’s kids knew where a copy of Michael’s birth certificate might be.

All my mother could tell me was that Grandpa was born in Buffalo, and that she thought his father was named John or Patrick (not an unusual first name among Flanagans…needle in a haystack). We knew he had an older brother named Patrick, because Uncle Pat moved out to the Los Angeles area later in life to be near his newly re-found brother Mike.

That was it.

That’s all I had to start with for research leads.

Do a search in any genealogy database for Michael Flanagan, Patrick Flanagan, or John Flanagan in Buffalo, New York, and you’ll see what I was up against.

I vividly remember when the 1930 U.S. Census came out back in April 2002, because I lived and breathed on Ancestry when they first published a digitized indexed version. I’d done the math and realized that the 1930 Census was the first one taken after Grandpa was born. I spent many nights digging through more needles in a haystack — far too many young Michael and Patrick Flanagans in the Buffalo area still. So then I started cross-referencing both Michael (Mike) and Patrick (Pat) in my searches, and reviewing ages for families that had sons with each name, because I knew that Grandpa and Uncle Pat couldn’t be more than maybe 5 or 6 years apart.

This approach definitely helped filter in on a smaller set of results. But, one very odd search result kept coming up near the top of the list every single time I tried it, and I kept dismissing it because the census entry for Michael and Patrick showed their relationship to the head of household as “Inmate”. Inmate? I’d never heard of Grandpa serving time in jail, especially as a child.  I noticed that every name on that particular census sheet was listed as an Inmate. And every single name entered was a minor.

Then it hit me.

Finally.

I remembered from my History studies that orphans, at this time, were frequently referred to as inmates. So, I scrolled to the top of that particular census sheet where it lists the Institution name (if applicable). And there it was — the German Roman Catholic Orphan Asylum. Every single enumerated individual on this sheet was a resident of an orphanage.

I scrolled back down to the entry for Michael Flanagan (line 34), 3 years and 10 months old. Right underneath was a Patrick Flanagan, 4 years and 9 months old. And when I looked more closely at the family grouping, I noticed three more youth males: Joseph (age 13), Leonard (age 12), and Harry (age 9).

More brothers?

Grandpa had THREE older brothers, in addition to Uncle Pat.

The 1930 US Census listing for Grandpa Mike and his brothers (click the image to view a larger version). Source: Ancestry.com.

I distinctly recall it being past 10:00pm (when Mom used to go to bed), but I called her anyways and woke her up — I knew how much this discovery would mean to her. She immediately started crying when I told her what I’d found — my decision to wake her up had been the right one. Mom, too, was surprised to hear about three more brothers. She said she was never really sure if Grandpa had siblings in addition to Uncle Pat, because Grandpa had so few memories of his early childhood.

While corresponding via email with my mom’s oldest sister a few years later, my aunt told me that she had been aware of the other boys’ names; but she wasn’t sure if they were all full brothers, half-brothers, or step-brothers.

One brick wall busted down.

The 1930 U.S. Census was the very first genealogical document that put me on the right path to tracking down Grandpa’s family history.  It gave me names and ages of my grandfather’s brothers, and it gave me the name and address of his orphanage. That was enough to inspire me to keep digging.

I eagerly and anxiously await the April 2nd release of the 1940 Census so that I can find out where all five boys were living in April 1940, because I do know now that they were no longer all together by that date. So, until the 1940 Census gets fully indexed, I’ll have to focus on the Enumeration Districts for Buffalo, and for the nearby farm town in which my grandfather’s foster family lived.

Genealogical Inspirations: St. Patrick’s Day And Michael John Flanagan

My grandparents (on the left), in Little John’s, the bar they owned in Pico Rivera, California, 1970s. Grandpa lived for St. Paddy’s Day every year. And I still miss my Grandpa and Grandma every day.

For my entire life, I have associated St. Paddy’s Day with my grandfather, Michael John Flanagan. The surname “Flanagan” ought to clue you into this association.

Every St. Paddy’s Day, during my childhood, I remember Grandpa dressing up as a leprechaun, green tights and all. He had no problem walking out in public in his leprechaun attire — Grandpa relished the shock factor. The tradition started when he owned a a bar, but Gramps kept up the gig long after he left the bar business — I’m pretty sure just to annoy Grandma. While Grandma didn’t mind Grandpa donning Irish attire for the bar, she wasn’t as amused as his kids and grandkids were when he kept the gig up for the long-term (Grandpa had no shame, and loved to embarrass his loved ones).

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Gramps (left) and one of his Little John’s employees making corned beef and cabbage.

I remember going to the grocery store with them as a child on St. Paddy’s Day, with Grandpa in regular clothes (Grandma insisted). Grams and I went into the store, leaving Grandpa in the car. Big mistake. While the two of us were shopping, Grandpa stripped off his street clothes in the car (apparently, he had his leprechaun costume on under his street clothes), walked into the store, and snuck up behind me and Grandma, dressed as a leprechaun. Everyone in the store, including me, got a really good laugh — Grandma didn’t find it quite so funny.

Grandpa lived and breathed anything Irish, and I’m pretty sure that St. Paddy’s day trumped even Thanksgiving and Christmas as his favorite holiday. You see, Grandpa was orphaned at a very young age, was split up from his siblings, grew up poor, and spent his entire adult life making up for this lack of family. He didn’t know much about his parents — just that they were Irish. So Grandpa clung fiercely to that heritage with pride.

One of the only real regrets in my life is that I did not take an interest in genealogy while Grandpa was still alive. How ironic that Michael John Flanagan would have a granddaughter who could help answer some of the questions that plagued his life, but not until after his death. Each time I find a clue in my grandpa’s past, I wish that I had taken the time while he was still alive to interview him and help him find his answers.

This regret is part of what drives me to research and piece together the pieces of my family history. I wasn’t able to help Grandpa, but I can still help his children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren discover their Flanagan ancestry.

Anniversaries: Maria Aurelia Compean Born 154 Years Ago Today

Maria Aurelia Compean (1858-1963)

One-hundred fifty-four years ago today, on January 1, 1858, my great-great-grandmother Maria Aurelia Compean was reputedly born (I don’t yet have an actual birth record for her).  Maria, who went by her middle name Aurelia, is better known to her grandchildren and great-grandchildren as “Little Grandma”.

Biographical Snapshot

Maria Aurelia Compean was born January 1, 1858, in the municipality of Armadillo de los Infante, located in the state of San Luis Potosi, Mexico. The village in which she was born is referenced as Tomascal in my records, but is also spelled Temascal and Temazcal in other sources. Her parents were Santiago Compean and Eutimia Sanches, who were married on September 14, 1859 in the same town — meaning that 1) Aurelia was born out of wedlock, or 2) that our family records list an incorrect birth date for her or wedding date for her parents.  Since the only sources of birth I have for Maria Aurelia Compean are the 1920 US Census and death-related records (California Death Index, a phone interview with her mortuary, and her 1963 obituary), I do not put a whole lot of faith in the birth date I have for her. As of yet, I have been unable to locate an actual birth record for Maria Aurelia Compean — just the Mexico Catholic Church Parish Records for her baptism and possible marriage.

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This family photo of Maria Aurelia (far right) with (R-L) her daughter, granddaughter and great-granddaughter illustrates why she was affectionately called “Little Grandma”. The daughter standing next to her, my great-grandmother, wasn’t much taller than my 5’1″ tall frame.

I am not certain of the name of Maria Aurelia Compean’s husband.  Family records indicate his name was Rafael Nieto, but Mexican Catholic Parish records show a possible marriage to Jose Refugio Nieto on October 18, 1883 in Villa De Hidalgo, San Luis Potosi, Mexico. A distant cousin that connected with me about five years ago, who still has living family members in Tomascal that remember Aurelia, says that her living relations in that village indicate there was some sort of local scandal involving Aurelia’s husband or husbands. Family members and my research indicate that Maria Aurelia’s final husband died in Mexico.  Surviving family members say that Maria Aurelia told them she came from a wealthy ranching family, that she gave birth to 21 children (including my great-grandmother Maria Nieto Robledo), and that she was able to care for this many children with the help of their many servants.

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What Maria Aurelia Compean Nieto’s hometown of Armadillo de los Infante looked like in 1909.
I’ve had this photo for years, and forgot to make note of the original source, so I apologize for the lack of attribution.  I will take the photo down of sharing is contested.
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A more contemporary look at Armadillo de los Infante.
Photo copyright Flickr user Armadillo de los Infante S.L.P.


Both the 1920 US Census and Aurelia’s obituary indicate that Maria Aurelia Compean Nieto  immigrated to the United States in 1919; family members say as a result of the Mexican Revolution (I have not yet located a border crossing or naturalization record for her). US Censuses and family members confirm that she first settled in Long Beach, California.  Her obituary and family members confirm that she later lived in Glendale and Norwalk, both in Los Angeles County, California.

Maria Aurelia Compean is thought to have lived to 105 years of age.

Research Roadblocks

  • Missing any type of actual birth record.
  • Missing the names of all 21 children.
  • Missing her date of immigration in to the US.

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Laughing At Old Family Christmas Photos

While I am sure that our children will someday poke great fun at photos from this year’s Christmas, I can’t help but share a couple of my favorite funny Christmas photos from my own childhood.

My grandma, with cigarette in hand, on Christmas or Christmas Eve. This photo must have been taken in the late1960s or early 1970s, at their home in Santa Fe Springs, California.

My beloved Grandma sure did love cat eye glasses…I have many photos and memories of her in this stylish eye wear. And don’t you just love the lit cigarette dangled between two fingers while she sat next to the Christmas tree opening gifts?…blowing secondhand smoke at the grandchildren surrounding her.

Christmas Sean and Ronnie
Another early 1970s Christmas at Grandma’s house. My brother Sean and cousin Ron.

And this big sister just can’t pass up the opportunity to laugh at my baby brother and cousin — even though, at that age, they had no say whatsoever in how their parents chose to dress them. At least my parents only subjected my brother Sean to footie pajamas with a big hole in the big toe. Poor Cousin Ronnie (I mean, Ron — he is a grown-up now!) is still traumatized from all the horrid 1970s baby leisure suits my aunt and uncle used to dress him in for special occasions.

Flanagan Memories: Providing Christmas Without Letting The Kids Know They Were Poor

Uncle sitting on his “new” Christmas bike, with Grandpa .

I grew up with the best grandparents a kid could want. They spoiled us with little gifts, and they spoiled us even more with love and attention. I still miss them, especially around the holidays.

During interviews with my mom over the years, about her childhood and what she knows about her parents’ early lives, one comment stands out in my mind more than anything else. Mom says they (the kids) never knew that their family was poor, until they grew up. Grandma and Grandpa worked hard to hide their financial hardships and worries from their children. Especially at Christmas.

Going through old family Christmas photos this week, I came across one particular photo that always chokes me up. It’s a picture of my Grandfather, Michael John Flanagan, and his youngest child, my uncle. They are posed in front of the family Christmas tree, Grandpa (ignore the scowl, he always looked grumpy in photos even though he was full of laughter) is standing next to my Uncle, who is sitting on a new bike and wearing a big smile. The reason this photo always gets to me is because, as Mom explains, Uncle’s “new” bike really wasn’t new. There was no way Grandma and Grandpa could afford a new one. It was actually a girl’s used bike disguised as a boy’s new bike. Grandpa worked at a company that made tubing out of steel, so he used some steel tubing and turned it into a boys bike and repainted it for my Uncle.

Grandma and Grandpa lived for loving their children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. It must have torn them up not to be able to provide brand new bikes at Christmas. So, instead, these two Depression-era children learned how to improvise and still lavish their own children with gifts and attention. My mom, as well as my aunts and my uncle, all seem to have such fond memories of their childhood Christmases.

A Christmas Memory From Mom 

After coming across that photo of my Grandpa and Uncle again, I emailed my mom yesterday asking her what sorts of other things Grandma and Grandpa did for them to make it special for the kids when they had little or no extra money to spend on Christmas.

Mom always made clothes for each of us and clothes for our dolls every year. Every year we got new pajamas. All of our gifts were inexpensive things like games (new sets of jacks, jump ropes, crayons and coloring books, paper dolls and a few board games). Back then, other than the year all of us girls got bikes there was never a big gift for any of us, and we never as little children made a Christmas list. The year we all got bikes I think they were used bikes that Dad repainted and cleaned up. What made Christmas special was that Mom & Dad spent the entire day playing with us. We never had a big dinner that required them to spend the day cooking instead they would cook a ham and we would eat ham sandwiches on Christmas.

Anniversaries: Benjamin Robledo Died 21 Years Ago Today

Benjamin Robledo (1919-1990)

Twenty-one years ago today, on December 22, 1990, my grandfather Benjamin Robledo passed away.

Despite being my grandfather, I don’t know very much about Benjamin.  He led a hard life and just wasn’t in the lives of his children or grandchildren on any sort of consistent basis.  My last real memory of him was at my junior high graduation, and I am guessing he also attended my high school graduation.  But, although I did not know him well while he was alive, I do hope to fit together the pieces of his troubled life.

Biographical Snapshot

Benjamin “Ben” Robledo was born on May 29, 1919, in California (we think it might have been Long Beach) to Maria Nieto Robledo and Joe Robledo. I do not have a copy of his birth certificate yet — no excuse, I’ve just been too lazy to jump through all the hoops required to obtain birth records from restrictive Los Angeles County.  He spent most of his life in the Long Beach and Norwalk areas of California. I attended the funeral.

Grandpa Ben also served in the US Navy during World War II, but I’ll save that for a future post…

Benjamin Robledo & Siblings
Benjamin Robledo (far right), with two of his siblings.
Benjamin Robledo & Siblings
Benjamin Robledo (middle), with two of his siblings.

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Christmas Traditions: Maria Nieto Robledo’s Tamales

Maria Nieto Robledo (1887-1974).

Homemade tamales are a Christmas tradition in many Mexican families, and my family is no exception. I can’t remember a single childhood Christmas, and very few adulthood Christmases, without my dad making the wonderful savory tamales (with the world’s most perfect masa) that he learned how to make as a child from his Mexican-born grandmother, Maria “Nana” (Nieto) Robledo — who in turn, learned how to make them from her own mother, Maria Aurelia (Compean) Nieto.

About seven or eight years ago, my father decided to start hosting a massive extended Christmas tamale-making party for our extended Nieto and Robledo family, to carry on the memories and traditions passed down by my great-grandmother Maria Nieto.  We haven’t been able to host it the last couple years, due to recent family hardships, but this event has come to be our family’s favorite Christmas activity — and I think my entire extended family of Nieto and Robledo cousins would agree.  We laugh, cry, eat, drink and share stories about Nana and her children.  We make sure Nana won’t ever be forgotten.

If you’d like to enjoy some of our family dishes passed down or inspired by my Nana, you should try Dad’s Red Chili Sauce or our Holiday Pork Posole.

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Dad makes sure the tamales get just the right amount of masa and fillings…just like Nana taught him.
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We get a house full of four generations of Nietos for tamale day.

Biographical Snapshot of Maria (Nieto) Robledo

My great-grandmother, Maria Nieto, was born October 28, 1887, in the municipality of Armadillo de los Infante, located in the state of San Luis Potosi, Mexico. The village in which she was born is referenced as Tomascal in my records, but is also spelled Temascal and Temazcal in other sources. She immigrated to the United States circa 1915-1916, settled in Los Angels County, California (Long Beach, Glendale, then Norwalk), and died in 1974 (when I was a child) in Norwalk, California.


View Robledo-Greene Family History in a larger map

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