deaths – Page 2 – Colleen & Jeff's Roots

#52Ancestors: My Favorite Photo, the Only Photo of Me with My Great-Grandmother Maria (Nieto) Robledo

My 14th entry in Amy Johnson Crow’s “52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks” family history blogging challenge for 2015.

The challenge: have one blog post each week devoted to a specific ancestor. It could be a story, a biography, a photograph, an outline of a research problem — anything that focuses on one ancestor.

Amy’s 2015 version of this challenge focuses on a different theme each week.

The theme for week 14 is Favorite Photo: Who is in a favorite photo of yours? Or tell the story of the photo itself — where was it taken, what was the event?

My 14th ancestor is my great-grandmother, Maria Hermalinda Nieto (1887-1973).

Cleaning through some forgotten files last week, I came across a bunch of old photos that I had taken out of my baby books decades ago and transferred to a new scrapbook album of favorite photos that I took with me to U.C. Berkeley when I went away to college after high school. These photos were still on those 27 year old horrible adhesive album pages, removed from my scrapbook, and got misfiled years ago during one of my many moves. How I never came across these again until now, I don’t know. How I managed to never scan these photos before, I don’t know. But, I am thrilled to have made this recent discovery! And I have since carefully removed all photos from those horrible destructive adhesive albums, and scanned them.

My Favorite Photo

Colleen Robledo and Maria Nieto — Nana with her Coco Colleen.

One of those photos is this one — my favorite photo. The ONLY photo I have with my great-grandmother, Maria (Nieto) Robledo, who died when I was just over three years old. I thought I had lost this. I was overjoyed to find it again!

My Great-Grandmother

Maria Robledo — affectionately called “Nana” by her grown children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and now great-great-grandchildren — was the paternal grandmother of my father, and she is the woman who raised him since he was a young toddler. She was a tiny little (approximately 5 foot tall) woman with a huge heart and giant presence. The name “Nana” is only ever uttered among our extended family in the most tender loving tone.

Maria outlived her husband, Jose Robledo (1875-1937), by over 35 years. The two of them lost everything back in their small San Luis Potosi, Mexico village during the Mexican Revolution, and immigrated to the United States in 1915, in hopes of beginning a new life for their young family (they had a 5 year old and a 3 month old). The family called Long Beach, California their first U.S. home, moving in with siblings and members of Nana’s extended family who had already immigrated here. Nana was widowed at about 50 years of age, but with at least six (ages 18 down to 6-1/2 years old) of their eight children still living at home. Even before Maria’s own youngest children were grown, she became mother to four of her very young grandchildren — including Dad.

Despite Jose having lived in the U.S. for almost 22 years, because the majority of his children were still so young when he died, it would be Nana who shaped and molded the American version of their family.

Why My Favorite?

So why is this photo, from among so many treasured photos from my childhood, the one I selected as my favorite?

Because this photo reminds me of the first time I remember seeing my dad cry.

And for a little 3 year old girl, seeing her strong daddy cry is a big big deal.

You see, I don’t remember the moment captured in this photo, of climbing on my Nana’s lap, teasingly trying to take her glasses off her face. My great-grandmother was a huge presence in our family and lives, yet I only have one memory of her…seeing her right before she died.

I have always had a vivid memory of looking in through a window, to Nana and Dad standing on the other side of that window, and my infant brother, Mom, and I all waving at them. That’s it. My one memory of my great-grandmother. Mom tells me that was a hospital visit, shortly before Nana died. We little ones either weren’t allowed in to see Nana, or Mom and Dad just thought it best we didn’t go inside. So we found Nana’s hospital room window, and waited outside of it, while Dad went inside and wheeled her up to the window so she could see us. I think I remember blowing kisses and laughing. No doubt, Mom tried to make a fun loving game of it for us, seeing which of us could blow Nana the most kisses.

I don’t think we ever saw her again.

Shortly after that visit, I remember being at home, and peaking inside my parents’ bedroom. Dad was sitting on the edge of their bed…crying. I had never seen him cry before.

It was so upsetting to me that I ran down the hall to find Mom, to tell her something was wrong, because my daddy was crying. He never cried. I distinctly remember Mom taking me in her arms, and explaining to me that Dad was crying because he was sad, because Nana had died. I wasn’t sure at that age what it meant for someone to die. All I knew was, it had to be something really really sad. Because my daddy was crying.

Because he had just lost the only mother he ever really knew, his grandmother.

Seeing Dad Cry Again

The next time I remember seeing Dad cry? When I graduated high school.

When he gave me a silver dollar that he’d been holding on to for a long time. The silver dollar that Nana had given to him when he graduated high school. This strong immigrant woman, who had started a life all over again for her family in a new country, never knew a time without financial struggles in her new country. My grandfather and his siblings grew up poor. Dad and the other grandkids raised by Nana grew up poor. It meant a lot, literally and symbolically, for Nana to save a silver dollar.

But Nana knew that education was the key to her family overcoming being poor.

Dad was the first of their family to get a college education. I can only imagine what joy it brought Nana to see one of her grandchildren go to college!

And giving me that silver dollar made Dad cry. Again.

Now, of course, as he’s grown older, my dad — who has always been a big softie — cries often. They are almost always tears of happiness.

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#52Ancestors: Great Grandfather Patrick Thomas Flanagan Dies of TB Two Days Before Christmas 1928

Flanagan Brothers GRCOH Family Sheet — Family card from the German Roman Catholic Orphan Home in Buffalo, noting Patrick’s date of death. Click for a larger view. Family files, provided by Catholic Charities of Buffalo, New York.

My 51st entry in Amy Johnson Crow’s “52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks family history blogging challenge.

The challenge: have one blog post each week devoted to a specific ancestor. It could be a story, a biography, a photograph, an outline of a research problem — anything that focuses on one ancestor.

My 51st ancestor is my great grandfather Patrick Thomas Flanagan (abt. 1897-1928). I have written about Patrick in the past, but not as part of the 52 Ancestors project. I have selected him for this week because he remains one of my major research brickwalls. Also because of timing.

Patrick allegedly died from tuberculosis just two days before Christmas 1928. Leaving behind wife Sarah Kennedy (1898-1930) who would die one and a half years later of the same disease, as well as three stepchildren (ages 18, 12, and 11), two older children from a previous marriage, and three younger children from wife Sarah (ages 8, 3, and 1-1/2). My grandfather Michael John Flanagan (1927-1997) was the baby, who at just 1-1/2 years old never got to know his father.

The family was extremely poor, so I cannot imagine that there was ever much in the way of gifts or fancy meals at Christmas time in the Flanagan household. But it breaks my heart to know that these children lost their father/stepfather and Sarah lost her husband right before Christmas. After watching him grow increasingly ill from TB. Sarah kept home, so she (and Patrick knowing the seriousness of his illness) had to be frantically worried about how she would provide financially for her children after Patrick’s death. Sarah died in June 1930 from the same illness, so it is very likely she contracted it from her husband, probably while caring for him.

Sarah’s fears were justified. By 1930, possibly even as early as 1929, the minor age children had to be committed to an orphanage because Sarah was too ill to care for them. The children would lead hard unhappy lives in foster care, getting split up and losing touch with each other. Patrick had an older brother and a sister who lived nearby in Buffalo. The parents of both Patrick and Sarah still lived back in their hometown in Ohio. But none of these families were well off and had lots of other mouths to house, clothe, and feed. So Patrick and Sarah’s children grew up alone, without family. This Christmas of 1928 was the last Christmas the family would ever spend together.

My grandfather lived the the rest of his life trying to heal this hurt by growing a big family of his own and showering his children and grandchildren with affection and love. He made us each feel like the most wanted loved child on earth. It breaks my heart to know that he never experienced anything close to this feeling himself.

I say that Patrick Thomas allegedly died in 1928 of tuberculosis. This is because I have no real proof of his date or cause of death. I have been unsuccessful in obtaining a death certificate from Erie County or the city of Buffalo, or in finding one at the Family History Library. There is no obituary. And I cannot even locate his burial site. Patrick does not appear to be buried with his wife Sarah or with his older brother Michael, both buried in Buffalo. The only record I have of Patrick’s death is from the orphan records I obtained for the children from the German Roman Catholic Orphan Home in Buffalo. The orphan records note that Patrick died on 23 December 1928 from tuberculosis.

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#52Ancestors: Bible-Walking-and-Talking Great Grandmother “GG” Veronica Dorris

My 50th entry in Amy Johnson Crow’s “52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks family history blogging challenge.

The challenge: have one blog post each week devoted to a specific ancestor. It could be a story, a biography, a photograph, an outline of a research problem — anything that focuses on one ancestor.

My 50th ancestor is my husband Jeff’s great grandmother Veronica Victoria Dorris (1883-1982). Called Ronnie by close family, her great grandchildren affectionally refer to her as “GG”.

I have briefly mentioned Veronica and her husband William Wallace Greene (1869-1944) before, when I found them in June 2012 on the then-newly released 1940 US Census. And I have written quite a bit more about her son, William Wallace Greene (1908-2003), the U.S. Army Lt. Colonel and surgeon I profiled as my week 5 ancestor, who helped treat concentration camp survivors when the camps were liberated at the close of WWII. Veronica and William Sr. also had a daughter, Nelle Dorris Greene, who I have not discussed yet.

My husband talks fondly of his GG, and still owns the Bible she gave him as a little boy — his very first Bible. Our Christian faith is important to my husband, so he has hung on to and treasured this special significant gift from his great grandmother.

Bible gift from Veronica Victoria Dorris — Christmas gift from GG to 9 year old great grandson Jeff Greene. His first Bible, well worn.

Until recently, I only briefly did any research on Veronica’s side. But have focused on this line quite a bit over the past month, and her family history has been fascinating. Veronica’s extended family is credited with pioneering and building up what became the city of Phoenix, and also being among those most influential in gaining statehood for Arizona. But, I will share those discoveries in later posts about those family members.

Birth and Childhood

Veronica was born 20 May 1883 in rural Mississippi, allegedly in the small town of Kilmichael (Montgomery County). I have not found a birth record for her, but secondary records indicate this as her birthplace. Her father was Luther Green Dorris (1856-1931). I have not confirmed her mother’s name, however. I find three different names listed on various family trees for the wife of Luther Green Dorris: a Dorcy, Charlotte Rebecca Ingram (the most referenced), and a Ledonia F. Since I don’t have a birth record yet for Veronica, I don’t know which of these women were her mother. I also haven’t yet found any marriage records for Luther to confirm the name of his wife or wives.

Veronica appears to be the oldest of five children born to Luther, and probably Charlotte. I have identified the following siblings, listed in birth order: Maud Mae Dorris, Luther Caswell Dorris, Reba Rececca Dorris, and Lizzie Dorris.

I also think Veronica was named after her aunt Veronica Emma Dorris, Luther’s youngest sibling, and only 13 years older than our Ronnie.

Arizona and Marriage

At some point Veronica moved away from her parents to Phoenix, Arizona, where her father’s brothers were already established pioneers and businessmen who are credited with helping to shape Phoenix’s history. Ronnie married in Arizona, and lived there the remainder of her life. I do not know when Veronica moved to Arizona, but it was at least by 1906, when she married.

I am greatly curious about why she moved to Arizona. Although she had a lot of family there, Veronica’s parents do not appear to have left Mississippi. She was a good Christian girl, but was she seeking a bit of adventure by moving to a wild west territory, yet safely, among a network of family there? Her wedding took place just 25 years after the famous gunfight at the O.K. Corral in Tucson. Did respiratory issues force her to move there? Did she move to help care for a family member? I have not yet found Veronica and her parents on the 1900 U.S. Census or the elusive 1890 one that probably no longer exists. I am hoping those records will lend a bit more evidence to the suspicion that Veronica left her family behind in Mississippi, or refute that suspicion and show me that her father — like so many of his brothers — moved to Arizona as well, but later returned to and died in Mississippi.

Veronica and William married on 14 June 1906 in Phoenix (now Maricopa County), Arizona (a territory for six more years). Ronnie was 24 when she married, I imagine this was considered late for a southern Christian woman. William waited until 37 to marry! The Arizona Republican covered their wedding (remember, Veronica came from an influential Phoenix family), describing it as “one of the prettiest church weddings celebrated in Phoenix in some time.” They called the couple “well known young people of this city” (William, young?..at 37?) and noted that “both of the couple are prominent members of the First Baptist Church.”

Wedding article about Jeff's great grandparents. — The Arizona Republican, 15 Jun 1906, Fri, Page 4. Courtesy of Newspapers.com. Click image to view a larger copy.

In a family history handwritten by her father-in-law on 25 May 1908, Veronica’s husband’s father mentions that his son William Wallace is “married to a dear girl Miss Ronnie Dorris a great church worker, who loves loves [yes, stated twice] “Daddy” Greene.”

Post-Wedding Years and Death

Veronica appears to have lived in Phoenix for the remainder of her life, even after her husband William died in 1944. I find her there on the 1910, 1920, 1930, and 1940 U.S. Censuses, as well as on city directories up through 1956.

Veronica Dorris with Children — Veronica with her son William Wallace Greene and daughter-in-law Jean Alice Harless.

In the 1940 Census, it notes that 8th grade was the highest level of education achieved by Veronica (her husband completed high school, but no college). Ronnie must have been immensely proud that her son went on to college, med school, and became a surgeon! She also lived long enough to know that her grandchildren finished college as well (her grandson went on to earn a Ph.D.).

She died 29 April 1982, and is buried in Tempe Double Butte Cemetery in Tempe, Arizona, in what looks like a Greene family plot, I assume next to or near her husband.

Veronica Dorris, Nelle Greene, Greene Boys — Veronica Dorris with her daughter Nelle and great grandsons (from her grandson). My husband is on the left.

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#52 Ancestors: Uncle Joe Deaguero, ALS Took Him Way Too Young

My 49th entry in Amy Johnson Crow’s “52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks family history blogging challenge.

The challenge: have one blog post each week devoted to a specific ancestor. It could be a story, a biography, a photograph, an outline of a research problem — anything that focuses on one ancestor.

Joe Deaguero - High School Yearbook — Pioneer High, 1965. Courtesy of Ancestry.com.

My 49th ancestor is my Uncle Joe Deaguero (1947-1983 ).

ALS and Death

Uncle Joe died of ALS, Lou Gehrig’s disease, when I was in eighth grade. I hadn’t thought of him in years, but the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge had Uncle Joe on my mind quite a bit this year, and got my cousins and I talking about him on Facebook. His was the first close family death of my life. I still vividly remember the day he died. I had stayed late at school to make signs for our upcoming junior high dance, and knew something was wrong as soon as I saw my Mom, who broke the news to me.

Uncle Joe was only 36 years old when this horrible disease took his life and finally spared him from suffering any further debilitating effects. I cannot remember how many years he lived after his diagnosis, but I remember that the diagnosis shocked our entire family, and devastated his wife, my Mom’s middle sister (I’m not identifying her by name since she is still living).

It hit us cousins hard to watch our robust playful uncle wither away and lose his ability to speak, as well as all other motor skills. At first, it was a cane, then a wheelchair, then he was bedridden at the very end. But, he participated in family life as actively as he could for as long as he could. Mom, my aunts, grandma, and I took Uncle Joe everywhere with us in his wheelchair. I remember us popping wheelies and making him laugh, and me often jumping on the back of the wheelchair for a ride while pushing him around. I also remember his tears of frustration when trying to speak, when his mouth and vocal chords no longer obeyed his brain. Or when he couldn’t get his hands and arms to move. I remember my tiny aunt being able to lift him in her arms towards the end, because he had lost so much weight and muscle.

Life with Uncle Joe

Fortunately, though, most of what I remember about Uncle Joe are happy funny memories.

He and my aunt were married less than a decade, and although we did not attend their wedding (they eloped in Vegas), I do remember when they got married. Because I wasn’t too happy about it at first. He was taking my fun playmate auntie away…she was a big kid herself who loved to play with her nieces and nephews.

But, Uncle Joe soon grew on me. He was a big kid himself too when it came to his new nieces and nephews. I loved spending the night at their beautiful refurbished old home filled with antiques (including an old fashioned toilet with the pull-down chain handle to flush it). They had old pin ball machines and a juke box that I never tired of playing with. Uncle Joe’s passion was restoring antique cars, and I loved to drive around with him in those — especially riding in the rumble seat of his Ford Model A. The three of us went camping in his restored Willys-Knight. Uncle Joe was an avid woodworker, who made us cousins the coolest toys, including an awesome fort for the bedroom of some of my boy cousins. And every trip to the movies with my aunt and uncle resulted in tons of over-priced junk food that Mom never let me have.

My aunt and uncle never had children of their own, but they showered us nieces and nephews with love and attention.

Family History Discoveries

While on Ancestry.com last week, I got a shaky leaf record hint for Uncle Joe, which is what inspired me to write about him. These hints led to some fun discoveries about my uncle.

First, a high school yearbook photo of him while a student at Pioneer High in Whittier (Los Angeles County), California. Since he and the other students on that page are in robes, I assume this is his senior year. Even if the photo had not been identified by name, I could have picked him out immediately, I remember that same smile.

But, what surprised me was to learn that Uncle Joe served in the military. I never knew that. I found a U.S., Department of Veterans Affairs BIRLS Death File entry that indicates he served in the Air Force from 8 April 1966 (most likely, right out of high school) until 4 April 1970.

The following photo is one of the photos I have with my Uncle Joe.

Flanagan Family Wedding 1970s — My Uncle Flanagan’s wedding in the 1970s. Uncle Joe is in the back row, far left, next to his wife (in the hat). I am in the pink dress in the front row.

#52Ancestors: My Great Grandmother Agnes Viola Elizabeth Maud Mara Died 43 Years Ago Today

My 48th entry in Amy Johnson Crow’s “52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks family history blogging challenge.

The challenge: have one blog post each week devoted to a specific ancestor. It could be a story, a biography, a photograph, an outline of a research problem — anything that focuses on one ancestor.

My 48th ancestor is my great grandmother Agnes Viola Elizabeth Maud Mara (1893-1971), who went by the name Viola. I have mentioned Viola in posts about her father, mother, brother, and mystery half-brother, but I have never actually profiled my great grandmother. Since today marks the 43rd anniversary of her death, I thought it appropriate to introduce Great Grandmother Viola.

Viola Mara — My mom has had this photo on display in her home.

I am named after my great grandmother; my parents gave me Viola’s middle name Elizabeth as my own middle name. Thankfully, Mom did not name me after any of her grandmother’s other names — Viola, Agnes, or Maud. Viola Elizabeth is the only name by which Mom knew her grandmother. She was surprised when I uncovered that long list of legal names when I found Viola’s birth certificate a number of years ago.

Birth & Childhood

Viola was born 21 February 1893 in Guelph, Wellington County, Ontario, Canada. Her parents were Thomas Mara (b. 1858) and Anna Sophia Allen (b. 1871). She and her younger brother William James Mara (1894-1952) immigrated with their mother to the United States (Michigan) sometime around 1898. I have not yet found a border crossing record or a naturalization record for Viola, her mother, or her brother. I do not think her father Thomas came with the family.

From what I can tell about her mother’s shady past, Viola and William must have had a difficult upbringing and unstable home. I have not found the family on the 1900 or 1910 U.S. Census; it is like their mother Anna Sophia was living off the radar. Viola does not surface until the 1920 U.S. Census, when she was 27, married, and a mother.

Viola Mara's birth certificate — Viola’s birth certificate, courtesy of Ancestry.com.

Marriage & Children

Viola married my great grandfather James Bruce Hayes (1888-1970) on 02 January 1912 in Detroit, Wayne County, Michigan. She was 18, he was 23. Viola and Bruce had nine children together, eight of whom reached adulthood. My grandmother Elsie Charlotte Hayes (1926-1992) was the seventh child. Bruce and Viola spent their marriage living in Royal Oak and Southfield, Michigan (both in Oakland County).

After Bruce divorced Viola, she moved out to Santa Fe Springs (Los Angeles County), California to live with her oldest son Bill and care for his children, and to be near my grandmother and Grandma’s older sister Cassie. I am told that I met Viola as a baby (I was not quite 2 years old when she died), but I do not have any memory of her or any photos with her.

Viola Mara, late in life — Viola, much later in life.

Death & Burial

My great grandmother Viola died on 06 December 1971, in Los Angeles County, California. It may have been in Santa Fe Springs, where she lived with her oldest son Bill (near my grandmother Elsie), but none of the records I have specify more than the county.

She is buried at Rose Hills Memorial Park in Whittier (Los Angeles County), California.

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#52Ancestors: Dorland Eugene Buddy Hayes, the Brother Grandma Never Really Knew

My 36th entry in Amy Johnson Crow’s “52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks family history blogging challenge.

The challenge: have one blog post each week devoted to a specific ancestor. It could be a story, a biography, a photograph, an outline of a research problem — anything that focuses on one ancestor.

I have fallen way behind in this challenge again due to continued health issues the last few months, as well as a major migration and redesign on this website last weekend, but I am trying to catch up by the end of the year.

My 36th ancestor is my grand uncle Dorland Eugene “Buddy” Hayes (1925-1929). Dorland Eugene Hayes, called “Buddy” by his siblings, was born on 23 May 1925 in Southfield, Oakland County, Michigan. He was the sixth of nine children born to my great grandparents, James Bruce “Bruce” Hayes (1888-1970) and Agnes Viola “Viola” Elizabeth Maud Mara (1893-1971). Dorland is an unusual name, even for that time. He had a paternal uncle named Dorland (although that uncle went by other names….go figure), so I assume that Buddy was named after his uncle.

Hayes Brothers — Grandma’s older brothers: Robert “Bob”, Dorland “Buddy”, and William “Bill” Hayes.

Buddy was the sibling born immediately prior to my grandmother, Elsie Charlotte Hayes (1926-1992). They were just a little over a year apart in age. Neither I, nor Mom, nor Grandpa ever met Uncle Buddy. Because, sadly, Buddy died at just four years old, on 13 July 1929, in Royal Oak, Oakland County. Grandma told Mom that Buddy had been playing out on the family farm with his siblings, while their mother (who ran the home and worked) napped. A road ran alongside the farm, little Buddy ran out into the road, and was hit and killed by a car. I just found Buddy’s death record today, on FamilySearch.

Since Grandma was not even three years old when Buddy died, she can’t have had many memories of him. Yet Mom says that Grandma always spoke tenderly and emotionally about the little brother that died so young, and that Great Grandma Viola took her little boy’s death hard. Mom had never even seen a photo of Buddy until about twelve years ago, when she and I went through old photos than an aunt kept after my grandparents died. The photo in this post is the one we discovered.

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#52Ancestors: My 3rd Great Grandfather James Patterson Darnley, Shot & Killed

My 32nd entry in Amy Johnson Crow’s “52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks family history blogging challenge.

The challenge: have one blog post each week devoted to a specific ancestor. It could be a story, a biography, a photograph, an outline of a research problem — anything that focuses on one ancestor.

I have fallen way behind in this challenge again due to continued health issues the last few months, but I am trying to catch up by the end of the year.

My 32nd ancestor is my 3rd great grandfather, James Patterson DARNLEY.

While working on the recent blog post about my 2nd great grandmother Catherine DARNLEY (1878-1928), I started spending a bit more time researching her parents, and was shocked to stumble upon this death certificate for her father, James Patterson Darnley. Third great grandfather Darnley died 18 March 1908, in Greensburg, Westmoreland County, Pennsylvania, from a homicidal gun shot wound to the abdomen!

James Patterson Darnley Death certificate, courtesy of Ancestry.com. — Death certificate, courtesy of Ancestry.com.

Murdered

Hoping that a gun shot wound death would be covered in the local newspapers, I hopped on over to Newspapers.com and struck gold.

Third great grandfather James Patterson Darnley was shot and killed by three “foreigners” (“Italians”) who jumped up from behind an embankment with the intention of robbing Darnley on his way home (to the Hempfield Slope mine area) around midnight. Third great grandfather Darnley was accompanied by his son, son-in-law, and another man. According to the Indiana Democrat, “Darnley rushed at the thug with his [own] revolver” before getting fatally shot.

James Patterson Darnley. The Indiana Democrat (Indiana, Pennsylvania), 25 March 1908, Page 6. Courtesy of Newspapers.com. — The Indiana Democrat (Indiana, Pennsylvania), 25 March 1908, Page 6. Courtesy of Newspapers.com.

James Patterson Darnley. Altoona Tribune (Altoona, Pennsylvania), 20 March 1908, Page 6. Courtesy of Newspapers.com. — Altoona Tribune (Altoona, Pennsylvania), 20 March 1908, Page 6. Courtesy of Newspapers.com.

Even his hometown paper carried the news.

No Justice

Fourteen months after the shooting, the man arrested and tried for the murder of James Patterson Darnley was acquitted by a jury. The verdict was reported in two different area newspapers, but those newspapers seem to disagree on whether there were one or two men tried and acquitted.

Murder of my 3rd great grandfather, James Patterson Darnley. — The Daily Courier (Connellsville, Pennsylvania), 22 May 1909, Page 1. Courtesy of Newspapers.com.

Trial of my 3rd great grandfather's (James Patternson Darnley) murder. — Altoona Tribune (Altoona, Pennsylvania), 26 May 1908, Page 11. Courtesy of Newspapers.com.

About James Patterson Darnley

I have only just started researching this part of my family, but from what I gather so far, James Patterson Darnley was born in Bothwell, County of Lanark, Scotland on 21 July 1856. His parents (according to the death certificate) were James DARNLEY and Annie BODMAN of Scotland. Third great grandfather James arrived in the U.S. with his father in 1865, at the age of 9 or 10.

It appears that his father married a Margaret in 1868, after father and son arrived in the U.S. I do not yet know if third great grandfather James’s mother Annie died, or if his parents divorced. I don’t even know if his parents were married.

At the time of his death, Darnley was married to Sarah Ann LLOYD (b. 1859) and lived in Greensburg. He was employed as a miner (I would assume at nearby Hempfield Slope Mine). Sarah and James were married in 1878. They appear to have spent most of their marriage together, raising their children, in Lonaconing, Allegany County, Maryland.

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