Thank a Veteran Today

Today is Veterans Day, a day to honor and thank all US veterans.

Veterans Day was originally called Armistice Day, created to commemorate of the end of World War I. Fighting between the Allied Nations and Germany was ceased on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month in 1918. That date is generally regarded as the end of “the war to end all wars”. Armistice Day was originally observed with parades, speeches and a brief suspension of businesses beginning at 11:00 a.m.

The 11th of November was made a legal holiday in 1938. The day was dedicated to the cause of world peace and was primarily to honor World War I veterans. After World War II and the Korean War the word “Veterans” replaced the word “Armistice” and the holiday has been known as Veterans Day ever since. On 1 June 1954, Veterans Day became a day to honor American veterans of all wars.

There are several veterans in my immediate family. My dad, his two brothers, and two other uncles are veterans. My cousin Ron Weitz was in the Army, a West Point graduate, and Joe’s brother Greg was a Viet Nam veteran.

Herbert Miller, 333 Reg, 84 Div, “Rail Splitters”, WWII

Carl LaVerne Miller, Army Anti Aircraft Artillery

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kenneth Miller, 278 Regimental Combat Team 1953-55

Paul “Red” Linn, WWII, South Pacific

Paul Eichler, Army, Korean War

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A couple other relatives that were veterans include Dale Caffee, (Army, WWII) and Merlin Miller (Marines, WWII, Korean War, Viet Nam).

Dale Caffee, Army, WWII

Murlin Miller, Marines, WWII, Korea, Viet Nam

 

I always like to pass out flag pins to the veterans at church the Sunday before Veterans Day. Last Sunday we honored veterans from several wars: Herb Miller, WWII; Don Caffee, Korean War era; George Eckrote, Korean War era; Denny Caffee, Viet Nam; Kent Whitacre, Viet Nam; and Mark Kimmel, Desert Storm & Iraq.

So, thank a veteran today. Thank them for their service and sacrifices for our country and our freedom. Thank you!

 

 

 

 

 

Tombstone Tuesday–Christian M. Schinnerer

Christian M. Schinnerer, Zion Lutheran Cemetery, Schumm, Ohio.

This is the tombstone of Christian M. Schinnerer, located in row 1 of Zion Lutheran Cemetery, Schumm, Van Wert County, Ohio. The gravestone is inscribed Christian M, son of F & E Schinnerer, gestorben [died] 19 Aug 1881, age 2 years, 2 months, 1 day.

The image of a lamb is carved above his name. Lambs were often used on the tombstones of children to represent innocence and purity.

According to the church records of Zion Lutheran Church, Schumm, Christian Martin Schinnerer was born 18 June 1879. He was baptized 29 June 1879 at the home of his parents, Friedrich and Elisabeth (Schumm) Schinnerer. Sponsors at his baptism were G. Seitz and Martin Schinnerer. Martin Schinnerer was Christian’s uncle and Mr. Seitz was a teacher, possibly a teacher at the Schumm parochial school.

Christian’s death and burial are also recorded in Zion’s church records: Christian Martin Schinnerer, little son of Mr. Friedrich Schinnerer and his legal wife Elisabeth, was born 18 June 1879, and died 19 August 1881. He was buried 21 August 1881 in the parish cemetery. The funeral text was Mark 10:14.

Christian’s tombstone is next to his sister’s marker, Wilhelmine Margaretha. She died two weeks before he passed away.

Christian was the twelfth child of Friedrich Schinnerer and his second wife, Elisabeth Schumm. They had fifteen children that I know of and seven of them died before they reached adulthood.

 

 

The Müllers–Generations of Shepherds

"Shepherd in Fagaras Mountains, Romania" Photo courtesy of Darwinek, Wikipedia.

Several years ago, when I first began to research my Müller ancestors, I just assumed that it would be a rather simple process to trace my German lineage. After all, I knew that one all-important fact, the name of my immigrant ancestor’s home town. Any researcher will tell you that you can’t research across the ocean unless you know that particular detail. Jacob Müller, my great-grandfather and my immigrant ancestor, was from Bierbach, Bavaria.

I assumed that generation after generation of my Müllers had lived and raised their families in that same town. My plan was to order microfilmed copies of the Bierbach church records from the local LDS Family History Center. My Müller ancestors’ baptism, marriage, and death records should all be in the Bierbach parish records. Right? Was I ever mistaken!

I ordered the film of the Evangelisch-Reformerte Kirche in Ernstweiler, which contains the parish records from Bierbach. But I did not find much in those records. To make a long story short, with the help of another German researcher I ordered film after film of church records of the area surrounding Bierbach. The Müllers should have been in some of those local records, but they weren’t.

I have come to refer to this strategy as my shotgun approach to research—I figured if I went through enough church records in the Bierbach area I should eventually hit something relevant. I came up with a name here and there, but nothing significant. Where were my Müllers? Where had they lived and raised their families?

It wasn’t until we discovered a clue on Johann Müller’s death record that we started to make some progress. Johann Müller was the father of my great-grandfather Jacob, the immigrant. Johann’s death record stated that he was born in Gerhardsbrunn. That was farther northeast than I had been looking. I would broaden my search.

It was a lengthy process as I ordered even more microfilmed parish records of other areas. But I did make progress as the name of one town led me to the name of another. I ended up chasing those migratory Müllers all over a little hilly section of Bavaria and eventually I was able to trace them back to the late 1600s.

But why did they move around so much? The records gave me the answer to that question: they were schaefers, the German word for shepherds.

Briefly, these are the places the Müllers lived, worked and raised their families:

My great-grandfather Jacob Müller was born in Bierbach.

Jacob’s father was Johann Müller (1816-1870). Johann was born in Gerhardsbrunn. He was a shepherd and farmer. Jacob married Marie Kessler. She was from Walsheim and they were married there. Walsheim is south of Bierbach.

Johann’s father was Valentin Müller (1763-1858). Valentin was born in Mittelbrunn. He was a shepherd in Niederauerbach (1780-90), in Saalstadt (1787), in Gutenbrunnen (1797), and in Bierbach (1822-1845>).

Valentin married Margaretha Arnberger in Battweiler in 1787 but the marriage was recorded in Winterbach. Margaretha was from Oberauerbach. Some of their children were born in Niederauerbach (but their baptisms were recorded in the Contwig), some were born in Bierbach (baptisms recorded in Ernstweiler), and some were born in Gerhardsbrunn.

Valentin’s father was Johann “Theobald” Müller (c1736-?). Theobald was born in Oberarnbach. He was a shepherd in Saalstadt. Theobald married Eva Krafft in Mittelbrunn in 1760. Eva was from Landstuhl.

Below is a map of the area. I have traced their movements as I know them in green. To give you an idea of the map’s scale, the driving distance between Bierbach (to the left) and Gerhardsbrunn (toward the upper right) is about 12.5 miles as the crow flies. This map is from the 1999/2000 ADAC Maxi Atlas, 1:150,000.

1999/2000 ADAC Maxi Atlas, 1:150,000, page 153.

I also did a little research about shepherding:

Shepherding is one of the world’s oldest occupations, over 6,000 years old. Sheep were kept for their milk, meat and especially their wool. Shepherding was often confined to rugged and mountainous areas while the farmers grew crops in the lowlands and river valleys

The sheep had to be able to move from pasture to pasture and shepherding became an occupation separate from that of the farmer. Shepherds were an important part of the economy and were often wage earners, paid to watch the sheep of others.

The shepherd had several duties. He kept the flock intact and protected it from wolves and other predators; he milked the sheep and made cheese from this milk; he supervised the migration of the flock and ensured they made it to market areas in time for shearing.

Shepherds lived apart from society and were largely nomadic. It was mainly a job of solitary males without children [Really!] and new shepherds needed to be recruited externally. Shepherds were most often the younger sons of farming peasants who did not inherit any land. In some societies each family would have a family member to shepherd its flock, often a child, youth or an elder who could not help much with the harder work.

Shepherds often lived in small cabins and bought their food from local communities. Occasionally shepherds lived in covered wagons that traveled with their flocks.

There you have it. The Müllers probably kept moving to supply their flocks with fresh grazing land.  I doubt the Müllers owned any land in Bavaria since they were always on the move. Owning his own farm in America was probably very important to Jacob Müller/Miller.

It is interesting to note that Jacob Miller, having descended from generations of shepherds, never raised any sheep on his Blackcreek Township farm to my knowledge.

 

Identification numbers of Family History Library microfilms used are available upon request.

Tombstone Tuesday–Wilhelmine M. Schinnerer

Wilhelmine M. Schinnerer, Zion Lutheran Cemetery, Schumm, Ohio.

This is the tombstone of Wilhelmine M. Schinnerer, located in row 1 of Zion Lutheran Cemetery, Schumm, Van Wert County, Ohio. The gravestone is inscribed Wilhelmine, daughter of F & E Schinnerer, gestorben [died] 5 August 1881, aged 5 months, 12 days.

According to the church records of Zion Lutheran Church, Schumm, Wilhelmine Margaretha Schinnerer was born 22 February 1881. She was baptized 6 March 1881 at the home of her parents, Friedrich Schinnerer and his legal wife Elisabeth, born Schumm.  Sponsors at her baptism were Mrs. Wilhelmine Schumm and Margarethe Büchner.

Her death and burial are also recorded in Zion’s church records: Wilhelmine Margaretha Schinnerer, little daughter of Mr. Friedrich Schinnerer and his legal wife Elisabeth, was born 22 February 1881, and died 5 August 1881. Her burial was on 6 August 1881 in the parish cemetery. Her funeral text was Job 1:18-22.

Wilhelmine was the thirteenth child born to Friedrich Schinnerer and his second wife Elisabeth Schumm.

Wilhelmine’s tombstone is next to her brother’s, Christian M. Schinnerer. She died two weeks before he passed away.

 

 

Recollections of Chattanooga, Ohio, Part 2

Zion Lutheran, Chattanooga. Frame church 1860-1917. (Photo c1912)

The following is the continuation of a narrative written by Rev. Reuben Valentine Smith in 1955. It is his personal account of his experiences as a pastor at Zion Evangelical Lutheran Church, Chattanooga, Ohio, from 1899-1905.

A Busy Preacher

I was a very busy person. I had the school on my hands. I preached a German sermon every Sunday morning and an English one every two weeks in the afternoon. They were not hastily dashed together, but carefully prepared. I read and I kept up my Greek. When there were vacancies in the neighboring churches I often acted as a supply.  There were sick calls to be made and visits to the members. I managed to do some general reading and prepared several papers for our conference. Two of them that later appeared in print were a factor in my election to a professorship. Incidentally, the old Auglaize Conference was a very good one. Outstanding in its membership were Dr. R. D. H. Lenski, who was later Dean of the Seminary, Dr. E. Poppen, later President of the American Lutheran Church, Dr. William Emch, who is still writing for the Lutheran Standard, and others who were mentally alert and energetic.  It was not a place for a lazy preacher.

Transportation Fifty Years Ago

The first time I went to Chattanooga the railroad agent sent me to Covington on the Pennsylvania and from there I was to take a “mixed” train to Celina. The mixed train was a local freight. I rode in the caboose. The train stopped at almost every cross road and got to Celina three hours late. The long wait was rather hard on the man who was to meet me and made him rather nervous and quite talkative.  Then there was a three hour drive to his home and it was after dark before we got there. Later when the T. and O. C. ran an extension to St. Marys we could take the interurban from there to Celina and the connections were better.

From Celina there was the long drive with a slow farm horse. The roads were dusty in summer and muddy or very rough in winter. In the northern part of the county few roads were gravel and even these were not very good.  The rest were mud. And what mud it was! It would pack up on the wheels of a buggy and then break off in great chunks with loud cracks. It had extraordinary adhesive powers. I once saw a man walking on the berm driving a large farm horse hitched to a buggy and the horse had a hard time getting through. One day in spring a man had a team hitched to a light buggy. He inadvertently flicked the horses with his whip. They lunged forward and broke both singletrees.

One Sunday afternoon I left Chattanooga in a buggy to drive to Hopewell. It took me one hour to get to St. Paul’s Church. There I spied Rev. Althoff’s cart in his yard. I left the buggy there and hitched to the sulky and made the next six miles in an hour and a half. All the while I was haunted by two worries: one that the rain which threatened might break at any moment, and the other that the congregation would leave before I got there, neither of which happened.

When the roads were fair I rode my bicycle and I hired or borrowed a horse and buggy. The people were very kind. At other times I walked. Some days in making calls I would cover twelve or more miles, stopping at several places. One of my best hikes was one from Berne that I made in 2 3/4 hours while carrying a small satchel. The hardest one was eight miles from Tama, through a fairly deep and light snow. When the mud was too bad I wore rubber boots, cut across fields, or walked on the berm. When I got to my destination, I would take them off and did my visiting in my stocking feet if my hosts did not supply slippers. Some of my city friends thought that I was suffering hardships. I did not think so. I was young and strong and my life had the flavor of an adventure.

Zion Lutheran, Chattanooga. Frame church. (1860-1917)

The Debates at the School House

Life was not all work and seriousness. For several winters, the young folks of the neighborhood organized and held debates in the little red school house a half mile down the road. They debated such time-tried topics as “The pen is mightier than the sword” and others of the same type. They would coax me to attend. Then they would need one more person on a team and would draft me into service.  On one occasion the question was “A man will do more for love than for money”, and they placed me on the love team. I orated about the great lovers of history: Anthony and Cleopatra, Abelard and Heloise, and so forth. But John Kable matched all my eloquence with the charge, “If that young preacher thinks so much of love, why is that parsonage standing empty all these years?”

The Threshings

Threshing was a big event in the lives of the people. It was the bringing in of the harvest and there was a feeling of joy and satisfaction. The neighbors came to help the men with the work and the women with the cooking. There was a big dinner and I was invited.  Almost invariably when I got there they would be a man short. If they sent me out to load sheaves from the field it was all I could do to get a heavy sheaf of wheat up high on the load. But they generally put me to tabling, then they would speed up the engine and get a laugh out of watching me sweat and get blisters on my hands.

Epilogue

The last two incidents would indicate that I entered whole-heartedly into the life of the community and I am glad that I was no prig and that I could do so without pretense. So the life of my people was also my life. There was much hard work and there were serious times and there were happy times. Their sorrow was my sorrow and their joy was mine also.

My six years of service at Chattanooga ended just fifty years ago. They have always remained in my memory as a pleasant and rewarding experience. And when my thoughts revert to them, I am filled with thankfulness to the members of Zion’s Church, to the people of the community, and, above all, to God, who let my lines fall in pleasant places.

Zion Lutheran, Chattanooga. Old frame church beside new brick church. (1917 photo)

 

The Rev. Dr. Smith was born 14 February 1877 in Columbus, Ohio, to Benjamin L. and Mary Ann (Poth) Smith.  He graduated from Capital University in 1896 and from the ELT Seminary in Columbus in 1899. He served at Zion, Chattanooga, from 1899-1905 and at a church in Marion, Indiana, from 1905-06. He returned to Columbus and became a college professor and Dean of Classic Language at Capital University from 1906-1955. He completed nearly fifty years of uninterrupted teaching and missed only two days of classes during that time. He was married to Nora Mangold. Rev. Smith died of a sudden heart attack in Columbus on 18 November 1955 at the age of 78.