Sepia Saturday 503: Third in a series of posts based on recent research discoveries at the NYS Archives & Library, introducing my maternal immigrant ancestors of Fulton County, N.Y.
For the last few years I have mainly written about my paternal ancestors whose family lines go back generations in the Western Hemisphere.
However, this year I hope to spend more time researching and writing about my maternal German and Italian immigrant ancestors who arrived in the mid to late 1800s and settled in the Mohawk Valley town of Gloversville in Fulton County, N.Y. So let me introduce them.
Meet my Gloversville ancestors
Andrew and Christina (Albeitz) Stoutner. My great-great grandfather Andrew, a brick manufacturer, immigrated from Germany circa 1855. My great-great grandmother Christina, who arrived from Germany circa 1864, was his third wife. I wrote about them briefly in a previous post.
Joseph and Eva Elizabeth (Edel) Mimm. My great-great grandfather Joseph, a machinist and glove company tool-and-die maker, immigrated from Baden-Württemburg in Germany. My German immigrant great-great grandmother Lizzie was a glove maker. They each arrived in 1873 and were married in Gloversville in 1876.
Peter and Mamie (Curcio) Laurence (nee Di Lorenzo). My great-grandfather Peter immigrated from Italy in 1895. He was also from the Campania region and was the last to arrive in Gloversville. There, he met and married my great-grandmother Mamie — the Curcios’ oldest daughter who was likely born in Saratoga Springs, N.Y.
Finding family in city directories
Unlike my dad’s ancestors, who lived all over — from Quebec, New York and Pennsylvania to New Jersey and Maryland — my mom’s immigrant ancestors all lived in one place.
After settling in Gloversville, they lived out their lives there and were buried in Prospect Hill Cemetery (shown in green on the map below). Some of my maternal ancestors worked in the glove industry, others were small proprietors — and all left a helpful trail of records.
On my recent research trip I spent time pursuing one set of those records, the Gloversville and Johnstown, N.Y., city directories, at the New York State Library — a worthwhile exercise since the state’s microfilm collection begins in 1879 and covers more years than I have found online.
In the next post, I will begin sharing what I found. Please stop back! Meanwhile, please visit the blogs of this week’s other Sepia Saturday participants here.
Sepia Saturday 457. From the archives: Three years ago I wrote this blog about my maternal grandparents’ marriage — and it is still my most visited post. So here it is again for readers who may have missed it.
Valentine’s Day this year brought to mind one of my favorite family love stories — how my maternal grandmother eloped during the Roaring Twenties to marry my maternal grandfather. Pieced together like an heirloom quilt from precious scraps of information, this tale begins in the early 1900s in Gloversville, Fulton County, N.Y.
My grandmother Elizabeth Christina Stoutner, born on 20 Nov. 1905, was a third generation German-American — descended from ancestors who arrived in the 1850s. They appear in census reports as machinist, brick manufacturer, milliner, railroad employee and glove workers.
Born on 2 May 1902, my grandfather Antonio W. “Tony” Laurence (his surname anglicized from Di Lorenzo) was an Italian-American whose mother was born here and whose father arrived from Italy in 1896. His family members populate the census as junk dealer, garage owner, shoe shiners and glove factory workers.
The boy next door
Growing up, Tony and Lizbeth (as he called her) lived next door to each other on Wells Street in Gloversville1FamilySearch requires free login to view records.— she in a house built from brick manufactured by her grandfather and he in a wood frame house just around the corner from his father’s Peter Laurence Filling Station on East Fulton St.
Sometime in the early 1920s, my tall, artistic, stylish and high strung grandmother Lizbeth fell for my grandfather Tony, the warm, handsome, solid boy next door — a skilled mechanic, craftsman and troubleshooter who was anchored in a large, lively extended family. And he fell for her.
But the road ahead was rocky because Lizbeth’s mother was “very against their marriage,” according to the daughter of one of my grandmother’s oldest friends.
I have to wonder why: Was my great grandmother Celia (Mimm) Stoutner influenced by the anti-Italian sentiment then sweeping the country? Or was she just intent on running her oldest daughter’s life? Whatever the reason, her opposition spurred my strong-willed grandmother to action.
My great grandmother must have told Lizbeth to stop seeing Tony, and she pretended to agree. But all the while my grandmother was carrying on a subterfuge that fooled her family — including her younger siblings, my mom’s Uncle Andy and Aunt Margaret. Years later, Margaret shared this story:
Elizabeth was working at the school [a one-room country schoolhouse on Bemis Rd. about 3 miles east of Gloversville] and we all thought she had stopped seeing Tony. She would leave in the morning and walk all that way to the school, then in the evening walk all that way back. Well, we found out later that she would actually leave the house and walk a few blocks to meet Tony, who drove her to the school. At the end of the day, he would pick her up, drive her back and drop her a few blocks away so she could walk up to our house alone.
Exactly when my grandmother’s family discovered these secret meetings I can’t say for sure. But after high school, my grandparents were separated geographically when they both went away to study — Lizbeth to teachers college in Oneonta, Otsego, N.Y., and Tony to learn automotive mechanics in Detroit, Wayne, Mich.
I’ll bet my great grandmother Celia thought distance would put an end to my grandparents’ courtship — but if so, she didn’t know her daughter very well. Sure, my grandmother Lizbeth put on a great show while she was still underage and needed permission to marry — but I think she was just biding her time, waiting to turn 18 so she could finally follow her heart.
Young love endures
How they planned it I don’t know, and my mother was never told. But after she came of age, my grandmother Lizbeth joined my grandfather Tony in Detroit, where they were married by Father J.J. Hunt, a Catholic priest, on 9 Jan. 1924 — just 50 days after her eighteenth birthday.
My grandmother had boldly embraced her future, and she clearly did not want her family coming after her. The 1924 Return of Marriages in the County of Wayne, Michigan2FamilySearch requires free login to view records.shows that, while my grandfather admitted that he was from New York, my grandmother said she was from Michigan.
Returning to Gloversville as a couple, my maternal grandparents Elizabeth and Tony remained married for life — confounding the nay sayers and eventually winning Celia over. And they left tangible evidence that their young love endured.
On my bookshelf sits a tiny, silver plated loving cup from the Detroit Post Office — the only souvenir from their wedding — treasured and re-silvered by my grandmother and passed down from my mom to me.
After my grandfather died at age 80, inside his wallet we found my grandmother’s pristine calling card with her maiden name embossed in gold, on which she had penned her address on Elm St., Oneonta, N.Y. — where he may have gone to fetch her for their clandestine drive to Detroit all those years ago.
May we all have love like theirs in our lives — and many Happy Valentines Days in our future!
Up next: A bewildering Blakeslee saga unfolds. Meanwhile, please visit the blogs of this week’s other Sepia Saturday participantshere.
Sepia Saturday 449: Eighth in a series about my fourth grade teacher Miss Helen George — one of those friends, acquaintances and neighbors (FANs) who can make such a difference in a person’s life.
Although I long considered my fourth grade year an individual experience, my education was actually a group effort — with my teacher Miss Helen George working in tandem with my mother to move my learning process forward.
The best evidence of this is the teacher-parent comment section of my fourth grade report card.
A mutual admiration society
In the little spaces provided, Miss George outlined my progress in the beautiful flowing cursive she strived to teach us in class — her signature underlined with a flourish.
In reply, my mom Peg (Laurence) Charboneau — herself an elementary music teacher — thanked Miss George and acknowledged her contribution in glowing terms.
I get a kick out of these little notes every time I read them. They reveal Miss George and my mom as a mutual admiration society — one teacher corresponding with another, collaborating and taking pride in a child’s progress.
My deportment problem
My first quarter of fourth grade went pretty well, judging by the report card notes:
“Molly is doing a fine job in fourth grade and I hope that she continues to do as well.” ~~Helen George
“We are pleased with Molly’s report and feel she has shown improvement this year. We appreciate your fine work with her.” Margaret L. Charboneau
The second quarter was another story. I started the year with only a “satisfactory” (as opposed to “excellent”) in deportment. And apparently my rambunctiousness went downhill as the year went on.
So did my neatness — a point pride to my meticulous teacher. So Miss George sounded the alarm, and my mom stepped up to help.
“Again Molly has done an excellent job! If she always does as well I’m sure she will know a happy, successful future. (–I do wish she would try to make her papers a little neater.)” ~~Helen George
“We will encourage Molly to continue the good work. Also we will stress the neatness and deportment department.” Margaret L. Charboneau
I clean up my act
My parents’ intervention apparently did the trick. I actually got an “excellent” in deportment in the third quarter — and Miss George reported that my papers were neater, too. In appreciation, Mom returned a message of high praise to Miss George.
“Papers neat — excellent work — so there can be nothing but praise for Molly this period.” Helen George
“An excellent teacher can bring out the best in a youngster. Thank you.” Margaret L. Charboneau
Headed for fifth grade
I was back to “satisfactory” in deportment in the fourth quarter — but fortunately didn’t behave badly enough to hinder my educational progress. On June 24, 1960, Miss George proudly promoted me to the fifth grade.
“Molly has had a fine year in fourth grade and I hope that she will continue to do as well in fifth grade.” ~~Helen George
There are no closing comments from Mom. But when I asked her about Miss George decades later, she smiled affectionately at the memory.
“She was just great,” Mom said. “The classical type of person you think of when you hear the word teacher.”
Please stop back as this series continues. Meanwhile, please visit the blogs of this week’s other Sepia Saturday participantshere.