Category Archives: Whitelaw

THE LOVE FAMILY SAGA, FROM ATLANTIC TO PACIFIC IN SEVEN GENERATIONS, PART II: Lorenzo and Lois Love; George and Hannah Love; Olin and Mabel Love

The Love Family Saga tells the story of seven generations of the Love family, from the first immigrants to American shores in the eighteenth century, to those living in the first third of the  twentieth century.  In Part I of this Saga, I recounted the lives of the first four generations of Loves in America:    Generation I:  Adam and Mary Love, Generation II:  Sgt. Robert and Sarah Love, Generation III:  Robert and Susanna Love, and Generation IV:  Levi and Eunice Love.

I also identified themes that recur through the generations and connect them.  In each generation, some of the children left home and moved to new lands and farms farther west.  This migration pattern was not unique to our family, but was part of a larger movement of New Englanders moving westward as lands were appropriated from Native American residents and opened for homesteading.

Another unifying theme concerns the character and personality of many of the Loves:  these men were entrepreneurial, bold, and adventurous, but they were not always able to make their  big dreams come true. A third pattern involved the wives of these seven generations of Love men:  these women came from their own long lines of American settlers and pioneers, and their diverse heritages enrich and expand the Love family story.

Part I of the Love Family Saga, covers the first four generations (click here).  Part II carries the Love narrative forward through generations five, six, and seven.

FIFTH GENERATION

Lorenzo (1814-1901) and Lois Hale (1815-1886) Love: From Bridgewater, NY to Newton Township, Michigan

Lorenzo Love was born in Bridgewater, NY, the fourth child of Levi and Eunice Waldo Love. When he was fifteen, he moved with his family to Hartland, NY, where he helped them clear new land for farming. At age 21 he left home and moved fifteen miles away to Yates, NY, where the next year he married Lois Lorain Hale. While there, he raised a company of the state militia and was its captain for three years.

Calhoun County, Michigan

Calhoun County, Michigan

In 1843, Lorenzo, Lois, and their two children, Almon Dwight, age 4, and Lorenzo Homer, age 2, left New York and moved 450 miles west to Calhoun County, located in south-central Michigan.  They made this journey just a few months after Lorenzo’s parents, Levi and Eunice Love, also left New York to settle in Waukesha, Wisconsin.  Lorenzo’s in-laws, the Hales, left New York as well, and settled near the Loves in Kalamazoo County, Michigan.

 

 

 

The migration of New Englanders to Western New York and the Great Lakes States

The migration of New Englanders to Western New York and the Great Lakes States, early 19th century.

When the Lorenzo Love family arrived in Michigan, it had been a state for six years. Michigan opened for extensive settlement in the aftermath of the War of 1812, when the federal government, in treaties with the local Ojibwa, Ottawa, and Potawatomi tribes, removed them to lands farther west. The Erie Canal provided a route from New England and New York, and thousands of New Englanders moved into the lower third of the state to create homesteads in the Michigan wilderness.

 

 

Ceresco:  The Grain Company

Westwind Mill, Linden, MI, est. 1837. This large mill may have been similar to the J. Wallingford 5 story mill that Lorenzo Love managed in Ceresco, MI, in the 1840s. Photo source: http://www.westwindonline.shoppingcartsplus.com/home.html

Westwind Mill, Linden, MI, est. 1837. This large mill may have been similar to the five story mill that Lorenzo Love managed in Ceresco, MI, in the 1840s. Photo source: http://www.westwindonline.shoppingcartsplus.com/home.html

The Loves settled in a town called Ceresco, which its founders named by combining the name of the Greek grain goddess, “Ceres” with the abbreviation for “company”. So the name means Grain Company. Lorenzo took employment at J. Wallingford’s five-story grain mill, located on the Kalamazoo River, and became its general manager.   The mill processed grain from a large surrounding region and shipped its products to markets as far away as Chicago and New York.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Historic ad for Kellogg's corn flakes

Historic ad for Kellogg’s corn flakes

The region was well-suited for growing cereals; later in the 19th century this agricultural fertility attracted the Kellogg brothers, who established their health sanitarium and breakfast cereal company in nearby Battle Creek.  The Loves and their neighboring farmers probably sold wheat and corn to this food-processing company.

 

 

 

 

 

The Underground Railroad

The largest monument to the underground railroad in the country is located in Battle Creek. It shows Harriet Tubman, local "conductors," and runaway slaves. Sculptor: Ed Dwight. The Kellogg Company commissioned the monument in 1993.

The largest monument to the Underground Railroad in the country is located in Battle Creek. It celebrates the role of Harriet Tubman.  Like Sojourner Truth, Tubman was an ardent abolitionist, and she is especially remembered for her leadership and bravery in the Underground Railroad.   Sculptor: Ed Dwight. The Kellogg Company commissioned the monument in 1993.

In the early 1840’s, about the time that the Love family arrived, Calhoun County became renowned for its fervent support of the Underground Railroad. In one instance, a fugitive slave family had settled there and a group of Kentuckians arrived to return them to slavery. The residents of the County refused to surrender the family to them, and later raised donations to pay a fine imposed on the citizens by a federal court.   In 1857, Sojourner Truth, famous African-American abolitionist and women’s rights activist, settled in Battle Creek, the county seat of Calhoun County, because of its strong abolitionist efforts.  We have no record of specific involvement of the Love family in the Underground Railroad, but like Lorenzo’s grandparents, Robert and Susanna Love, who attended the church of anti-slavery advocate Rev. Levi Hart,  they were embedded in an Abolitionist milieu, and it would have been a pervasive topic and preoccupation.

Descendants of Austin Love, Lorenzo Love's uncle, in Adrian MI, late 1800s; Photo courtesy of Judy Love

Descendants of Austin Love, Lorenzo Love’s uncle, in Adrian MI, late 1800s; Photo courtesy of Judy Love

Immigration and Family Separation

After several years working at the mill,  Lorenzo bought a farm, and he and Lois became  full-time farmers. In addition, Lorenzo  served the area at various times as postmaster, clerk, and justice of the peace for the Township.  During these years Lorenzo and Lois had two more children, Harriet Lorain, born in 1847, and our ancestor, George, born in 1850.

Lorenzo had one relative in Michigan, his uncle Austin Love.  Austin had been raised in Bridgewater, NY and moved to Michigan in 1835.  He and his large family lived in Adrian, about 60 miles away from the Lorenzo Loves in Burlington, and it is possible that the families were able to visit occasionally.

Historic Firestone Farm at Greenfield Village, Dearborn, MI, showing an 1876 reaper recently invented to reduce the physical labor of harvesting. Photo source: http://passionforthepast.blogspot.com/2011/08/early-farming-tools-from-days-gone-by.html

Historic Firestone Farm at Greenfield Village, Dearborn, MI, showing an 1876 reaper recently invented to reduce the physical labor of harvesting. Photo source: http://passionforthepast.blogspot.com/2011/08/early-farming-tools-from-days-gone-by.html

However, Lorenzo was separated from his parents and the family he grew up with in Bridgewater.  His brothers and sisters were scattered throughout Canada, New York, and Wisconsin. At this time, transportation was difficult, and very few farm families could afford either the time or money to travel long distances for family reunions. Family historian Dorothy McKillop quotes from a letter that Lorenzo, in his old age, wrote to his nephew, Charley Love, in Wisconsin,  which expresses the loss he felt at having so little contact with his family.

“As I had not heard of the death of my brother [DeLoss Love] until you informed me, I must say I feel much obliged to you for your kindness toward me. I have never seen DeLoss but once since father [Levi] moved to Wisconsin in 1843. He was then a boy some 16 or 17 years old. I wrote him a letter once but he never answered it. Well, out of a family of 14, only 5 remain.” (McKillop, p. 65)

Lorenzo retired from farming in 1888, after his wife’s death, and lived in the homes of his children until he died in 1901 at age 86.  According to his obituary, written by his sons, “ he was an active, vigorous man and was always strictly honorable in his transactions.”

Lois Love Tombstone, Burlington Cemetery, Burlington, MI. Photo Susan Whitelaw 1995.

Lois Love Tombstone, Burlington Cemetery, Burlington, MI. Photo Susan Love Whitelaw 1995.

Lois Lorain Hale, Lorenzo’s wife, was descended from New Englanders. Her parents moved from Vermont to Yates County as part of the large migration of New Englanders to western New York after the Revolutionary War, and moved to Michigan in parallel with Lorenzo and Lois in the 1840s.   Lois died on the home farm in Burlington in 1886, at the age of 71.

She and Lorenzo lived to see the family begin to move away from rural life into occupations more closely associated with towns and cities.  One of their children,  Lorenzo Homer, known as L.H. Love, became locally prominent as the publisher of a small-town newspaper, the Athens Times, and George, our direct ancestor, also explored alternatives to traditional rural life (See below.)

Lois and Lorenzo Love are buried at Burlington Cemetery, Burlington, Michigan.  The Calhoun County Genealogical Society has recognized Lorenzo Love as a Calhoun County Pioneer (one who settled in the County before 1861)  and has officially verified our family’s descent from him and Lois, his wife.

SIXTH GENERATION:

George Winslow (1850-1918) and Hannah Maria Lewis (1854-1946) Love: From Newton Township, Michigan to Livingston, California.

 

Love Family, 1886, Michigan. Left to right: Ralph, Lewis, George, Charles, Hanna, Olin, Ruth.

George and Hannah Love Family, 1886, Michigan. Left to right: Ralph, Lewis, George, Charles, Hannah, Olin, Ruth.

George Love was born in Ceresco, Newton Township, Michigan, where his father operated a flour mill. He was the youngest of four children. Soon after his birth, his father left the mill and bought a farm in the area, where  George grew up and attended local schools. In 1874, at age 24, he married Hannah Lewis, who lived on a nearby farm, and whom he had probably known since childhood.   The couple settled down on farms in Calhoun County and had four sons and a daughter between the years 1876 and 1886:  Charles George, b. 1876; Ralph Emerson, b. 1877; Ruth Carrie, b. 1880; Lewis D., b. 1883; and Olin Wayne, b. 1886.

Starting in the 1890s, the Love family and their children made a series of moves that took them from farms to towns, from Michigan to the west coast, and from farming to leadership in farming cooperatives, and to business and professional careers.

Benton Harbor, Michigan

Eden Springs amusement park miniature railroad, early 20th century, Benton Harbor, MI

Eden Springs amusement park miniature railroad, early 20th century, Benton Harbor, MI

By 1894, the family had moved to Benton Harbor, a town on the shore of Lake Michigan, about 85 miles west of Newton Township. Benton Harbor was a rapidly growing town in the 1890s. The construction of a canal had drained its swamps and also provided a port on the Lake, so that agricultural products could be shipped out to Chicago and other markets.  Sawmills, fruit canning companies,  manufacturers, and a tourist industry all grew quickly in this late nineteenth century boom town.  The 1900 Federal Census lists George Love’s  occupation in Benton Harbor as “carpenter,” and  it seems likely that he worked on construction projects in this growing municipality.  Judging from his later activities on the west coast, he may also have been interested in land speculation.

Hanna Love, 1901, age 47, a few years before she left Michigan and moved to Oregon

Hannah Love, 1901, age 47, a few years before she left Michigan and moved to Oregon,  Source:  Fran Bryanton photo archive

 

Real Estate in Woodburn, Oregon

In 1905, George and Hannah, in their early 50’s, and two of their now-adult children (Ralph and Lewis),  moved 2,300 miles west to Oregon. They left  behind Hannah’s mother, Rachel Freer Lewis, and their oldest child, Charles, and his family.  Two of their children remained in the midwest and came to Oregon later.  Ruth was a nurse in Chicago; she married Millard Seitz, a lawyer, in 1907, and they moved to Oregon in 1908.  Olin was still a teenager when his parents left; he was working in Indiana but joined the family in Oregon a few years later.

 

 

 

 

Love Real Estate Brochure, about 1911, Woodburn, Oregon

Love Real Estate Brochure, about 1911, Woodburn, Oregon

The Love family settled in Woodburn, Oregon, in the heart of the fertile Willamette Valley, a town of about 2,500 people. George and Hannah bought a 50 acre farm, but farming does not seem to have been their primary occupation.  George and his  sons opened a real estate office, hoping to speculate successfully in the growing demand for the rich farm land in the area.

Both farming and real estate were short-lived ventures, however, and in 1912 George and Hannah moved to Livingston, California, another area of potentially highly productive farm land.  George was probably interested in continuing to speculate in real estate, and apparently found the prospects desirable, as the children, Lewis, Ralph, Olin and their families, also left Oregon over the next several years and joined their parents there.  Ruth did not move to Livingston.  Her husband died of drowning on the Oregon Coast in 1912.  She and her young son, William Love Seitz,  returned to Chicago where she studied music at the Chicago College of Music.  She then established a career as a piano teacher in Anaheim, California.

 

The California Agricultural Revolution

Family Picnic, July 4, 1914, Livingston, California. Far left, Ralph Love; center, Hanna and George Love; others are Ralph's wife, Edna McCoy and her relatives.

Family Picnic, July 4, 1914, Livingston, California, two years after the Loves arrived there.   Far left, Ralph Love; center, Hannah and George Love; others are Ralph’s wife, Edna McCoy and her relatives.  Source:  Frances Morton photo archive.

The town of Livingston was named after the famous explorer of Africa, Dr. Livingstone (the final “e” was inadvertently omitted from the application for a post office, so the town name officially became Livingston). Land speculators advertised the area nationally, drawing settlers from as far away as the mid-west.  However, as in Oregon, the Love family did not prosper in real estate there, and instead they turned to wheat ranching.

Grain thrasher, Lewis Love ranch, Livingston, California, about 1920

Grain thrasher, Lewis Love ranch, Livingston, California, about 1920. Source:  Stan Elems photo archive.

When the Love family arrived, central California was in the midst of an agricultural revolution, and the Loves discovered that wheat farming there was very different from that practiced on their Michigan farm. In California, the farms were called ranches, because the wheat fields were large, flat, nearly empty expanses of land.  Scientists developed new strains of wheat compatible with dry farming, so wheat could survive in arid areas.  Unlike the small family farms characteristic of Michigan, California ranches replaced intensive human labor with giant farm machinery and large teams of horses, both of which were well adapted to the flat, empty terrain. A single rancher, with the help of hired “hands”, could grow much larger crops than was possible in the mid west.  To get a sense of the change in scale, compare the huge harvesting machine shown here with the reaper used by Michigan farmers pictured in the previous section on Lorenzo Love.

 

Farmers utilize a team of 14 draft animals to harvest wheat. Source: OSU photo archives.

Farmers utilize a team of 14 draft animals to harvest wheat. Source: OSU photo archives.

The Loves embraced this new method of wheat-growing with enthusiasm. Lewis formed a partnership with a local banker, who provided the capital for them to jointly purchase 1,000 acres, one of the largest ranches in the area.  Lewis was in charge of the actual farming.  George and Ralph also had ranches.   Son Olin joined the family in 1918 and also bought a ranch.   My mother, who lived on her father’s ranch for a few years as a child, remembered that her Uncle Ralph, who had lost an arm while working at a saw mill in Oregon, was renowned for managing teams of twelve horses with his one arm.  Twelve-horse teams would have been unheard of, and not useful, in Michigan.

“Death to All Rabbits” (Livingston Chronicle, March 9, 1917)

Lewis Love, seated on horse on left, leading a jack rabbit drive, about 1918. Photo from the Livingston Chronicle, Oct. 12, 1933.

Lewis Love, seated on horse on left, leading a jack rabbit drive, March, 1917.  Photo from the Livingston Chronicle, Oct. 12, 1933.

Lewis Love was a popular local figure. Over the years he was elected to be the first director of the Merced Irrigation District, the president of the Livingston farm center, an officer in the Livingston chamber of commerce, and justice of the peace. He was most remembered, however, for being the organizer and leader of a series of massive jack rabbit sweeps.  Jack rabbits were so numerous that they seriously threatened the crops. In one sweep, Love organized a thousand men, including contingents from the Japanese, Chinese, and Portuguese communities, for a drive covering ten square miles, with an estimated kill of 6,000 rabbits.  (Note:  Many thanks to Stan Elems, grandson of Lewis Love, for locating and scanning all newspaper articles in the Livingston Chronicle on the Love family, and for much other help in doing research on the Love family in California.)

George Winslow Love, about 1915, Livingston, California

George Winslow Love, about 1915, Livingston, California.  Source:  Roger Schartzer photo archive.

George Love died at age 68, in 1918, unfortunately by suicide, after learning from his doctor that his heart was failing. He became despondent, and hanged himself from a rafter in the barn.   Although his method of dying was not made public at the time, I have chosen to do so here  because currently we understand suicide to be a symptom of depression, which, like many other mental and physical disorders, can have a physiological base. It is useful for those in the Love line to know if they might have a genetic susceptibility to depression.

 

 

 

George and Hanna Love, soon after arriving in California, 1914.

George and Hannah Love, soon after arriving in California, 1914.

Hannah Lewis Love survived her husband by many years. She lived to see the end of World War II.   During her widowhood, Hannah divided her time between Livingston and Los Angeles, at the home of her daughter, Ruth.  She returned to Michigan once that we know of, in 1918, to visit her mother, then in her 90s, and her son Charles and his nine children. Hannah died in 1946 at the age of 92 and is buried next to her husband in Turlock Cemetery, near Livingston.

Hannah’s ancestry includes very early immigrants to America. Her mother was Rachel Freer.  Rachel was born in New Paltz, NY, the home base of the extensive Freer family, who were Huguenots fleeing persecution in France.  Through her father, Adna Lewis, Hannah was a descendant of Thomas Lewis, an early settler to Dutch New York, and by his marriage, to several of the early Dutch families there.   Click here.   Through her paternal grandmother, Hulda Nye Lewis, Hannah was also related to the Nyes and other Puritan settlers of the Cape Cod town of Saugus in the 1600s. Click here.

Hanna Love's loveseat, which she brought from Michigan to California, now in the Historical Museum, Livingston, California

Hannah Love’s loveseat, which she brought from Michigan to California, now in the Historical Museum, Livingston, CA.  Photo Susan Whitelaw, 2009.

Ruth Love Seitz, California, 1930s

Ruth Love Seitz, nurse, California, 1930s.  Source:  Fran Bryanton photo archive.

George and Hannah’s children continued the trend that began a generation earlier of transitioning from farming to urban occupations.  Charles was a musician and piano tuner in Michigan his entire adult life.   His expertise was recognized by opera singer Helen Traubel, who always insisted that he tune the pianos that would accompany her performances in the area.  Lewis left ranching after several years to become a justice of the peace in Livingston.  Ruth had obtained professional education in two fields:  music education and nursing, and, as a single mother, was able to support herself and her son in these professions.  Olin tried a number of occupations and was a farmer only briefly (see below).

 

Charles Love, piano tuner, Michigan, perhaps about 1935

Charles Love, tuning a piano at the Grinnell Brothers Music Store, Lansing, MI., probably the 1920s.  Source: Courtesy Lori Love Smith.

Lewis Love, Justice of the Peace, courtroom, Livingston, CA, 1933

Lewis Love, Justice of the Peace, in his courtroom, Livingston, CA, 1933.  Source:  Stan Elems photo archive.

GENERATION SEVEN

Olin (1886-1930) and Mabel Goulet (1889-1963) Love: From Newton Township, Michigan to Portland, Oregon

Olin Love, Oregon, 1925

Olin Love, Oregon, 1925

Olin Love was born in 1886 in Burlington, Michigan. According to his daughter, Alvis, he was originally named Leland Stanford Love, after the railroad industrialist, but the name was changed to Olin Wayne when he was five or six, for reasons that are now obscure. “Wayne” may be a reference to “Mad Anthony Wayne,” a military leader of the Revolutionary War, who later helped win Michigan and the Northwest Territory from Indian and British influence.

Olin was the youngest of five children born to George and Hannah Love, and spent his earliest years on their farm in Burlington, Michigan. During his childhood the family moved to Benton Harbor, on the coast of Lake Michigan. This was the first of many moves that were to characterize his peripatetic life. A 1912 book of biographical sketches of self-made men in Oregon details Olin’s restless energy. At the time the book was written, Olin was 26 years old.  He and others like him took advantage of the opportunities open to ambitious young men attempting to leave the farms homesteaded by their ancestors and move into the modern world.

Early 20th century cigar sign, Spokane, Washington. Photo by Larry Mann. Source: http://www.narhist.ewu.edu/pnf/articles/s1/iii-2-3a/historical_signs/historicalsigns.html

Early 20th century cigar sign, Spokane, Washington. Photo by Larry Mann. Source: http://www.narhist.ewu.edu/pnf/articles/s1/iii-2-3a/historical_signs/historicalsigns.html

“[In Benton Harbor, Michigan] he pursued his education in the common schools until he had attained the age of thirteen years. He then laid aside his textbooks and apprenticed himself to the cigar maker’s trade, which he followed in twenty-six different states. He subsequently located in Elkhart, Indiana, engaging in business there until 1908. In February of that year he disposed of his establishment and joined his father, who had previously purchased a ranch of fifty acres near Woodburn [Oregon]. Soon thereafter he went to Spokane, Washington, where he followed the cigar business for a year, but at the end of that time he returned to Woodburn and together with his brother Louis D. opened a real-estate office. Although they have been engaged in this business for only a brief period, they have become very well established and have every reason to feel most sanguine regarding its future success.” (Joseph Gaston, 1912)

Olin, Alvis, and Mabel Love, Woodburn, Oregon, 1912

Olin, Alvis, and Mabel Love, Woodburn, Oregon, 1912

Olin Love married Mabel Goulet of Woodburn in October, 1910; their daughter Alvis (my mother) was born a year later. The family moved to San Diego in 1917, but then moved to a ranch in Livingston, California, in the San Joaquin Valley, joining Olin’s parents and siblings.  During this time, Olin became interested in organizing farmers and was involved with California’s Farm Bureau.

 

 

 

 

Traveling Salesman

A postcard Olin, traveling salesman, sent from Washington to Mabel and Alvis, 1923.

A postcard Olin, traveling salesman, sent from Washington to Mabel and Alvis, 1923.

In 1921, Mabel’s poor health caused the family to move back to Woodburn, where they could be near Mabel’s parents. Olin took a position as a salesman for a firm producing food supplements for livestock, the Economy Hog & Cattle Powder Company. This large Iowa company distributed its products nationwide. Olin, as company sales representative in the Northwest, traveled continuously through Oregon and Washington.

Postcard of Carnation Milk Company, 1909

Postcard of Carnation Milk Company, 1909

He was recognized as a top salesman for the Company in 1928 and 1929, and was described in the firm’s newsletter of July, 1930, as “one of the most energetic, as well as capable salesmen ever to represent the Economy Company.” The May, 1930, edition of the newsletter reported that: “Mr. Love had the faculty of being able to approach big men with large business firms. He was the man more responsible than anyone else in getting the business from the Carnation Milk People,” a large dairy farm operation with over 1,000 head of Holstein cows.

Olin (far left) and Mabel (seated under the awning) on their boat with friends, Willamette River, 1929

Olin (far left) and Mabel (seated under the awning) on their boat with friends, Willamette River, 1929

The family moved to Portland in 1925, so Alvis could attend a Portland high school. Olin was determined that she would have a good education and attend college, a somewhat unusual ambition to have for a daughter at that time.   During these Portland years, Olin became owner of a boat with which he entertained his family and his clients for the Economy Company on fishing trips along the Columbia and Willamette Rivers. A fellow salesman wrote in the company newsletter (May, 1930) that he “had the pleasure of riding with Mr. Love in his house-boat on the Willamette and Columbia Rivers of Oregon. Mr. Love was a splendid entertainer and host. . . . [He] loved to fish, hunt; he enjoyed out-door life and was especially fond of being on the water.”

Olin Love and his car, about 1918.

Olin Love and the Courtland, about 1918.

Olin Love died unexpectedly and prematurely of complications from surgery on duodenal ulcers in 1930 when he was in his early 40’s. Unfortunately, he died just as he was becoming financially successful, and had not had time to provide for his wife and
daughter. This was before the days of Social Security, so his death caused both his wife and daughter to struggle financially. His daughter, Alvis, remembered him as a kind and devoted father, but one who was a rolling stone, always eager to try a new job or see a new part of the country. During his lifetime, he lived in numerous states and tried many different occupations. The ones he seemed to like the best involved constant travel.

Alvis Love Whitelaw, 1971, Portland, OR

Alvis Love Whitelaw,  Associate Director of Metropolitan Family Services, 1971, Portland, OR

Mabel Love outlived her husband for many years, supporting herself as an apartment house manager.  I have written about her here.    Her mother, Florence Beach, was the daughter of Amos Beach, Civil War Veteran (click here).   Her father was W.H. Goulet, son of French Canadian pioneers S.A. and Marcellisse Goulet (click here).  Olin and Mabel’s daughter, Alvis Love Whitelaw, (my mother) continued the family trend of moving from farming to an urban way of life.  She obtained a college degree in 1933 and had a career in social service.  I have written about her here. 

 

 

 

Endings and Beginnings

Roger Schartzer, swearing-in ceremony to Coast Guard (grandson of Charles Love) center, with parents Ruth and Vernal Schartzer on right and Coast Guard staff on the left, 1979, Phoenix, AZ. Photo archive of Fran Bryanton. Courtesy Roger Schartzer.

Roger Schartzer (grandson of Charles Love) center, with parents Ruth and Vernal Schartzer on right, swearing-in ceremony as Chief Warrant Officer of Coast Guard, 1979, Phoenix, AZ. Photo courtesy Roger Schartzer.

The death of Olin Love in 1930 marked the 200th anniversary of the arrival of Adam and Mary Love in America in 1730.  As the generations progressed through these two centuries, some patterns gradually ended. The movement westward came to a stop, as the descendants of George and Hannah Love ran out of land on the shores of the Pacific Ocean; instead, they moved north and south, up and down the coast from Washington and Oregon to California and back again.  The pattern of small scale family farming as the normative occupation for Love families also ended, as it did for the country as a whole.

 

 

Fran Bryanton, grand daughter of Charles Love, retired auto worker. Photo taken on her 90th birthday, singing with her nephew, Bill Love, Lakeland, FL, 2008

Fran Bryanton, retired auto worker, and daughter of Charles Lov. Photo taken on her 90th birthday, singing with her nephew, Bill Love, Lakeland, FL, 2008

The sixth and seventh generations ushered in new ways of life, with a growing urban orientation.  The Loves took advantage of windows of opportunity to move out of agriculture to pursue occupations and careers, for example, by working for agricultural industries or taking leadership in farm organizations.    Their big dreams didn’t always work out, but their willingness to take risks and their sense of adventure helped these families to see and profit from opportunities in towns and cities.

 

 

Alvis Love, third from right, Atwater School, Livingston, CA, about1918

Hazel Love (Lewis Love’s daughter), fourth from right, and Alvis Love, (Olin Love’s daughter), third from right,  Jordan-Atwater School, Livingston, CA, about 1918.

The lives of the  great-grandchildren of George and Hannah Love reveal another emerging trend, the increasing importance of education.  Among their descendants are Ph.D’s, college professors, and physicians.  This trend occurred for women in the family as well as men, as the girls in these families were likely to receive as much or more education than the boys.

 

 

Nancy Whitelaw, Ph.D. and Vice President, National Council on Aging, Olin Love's granddaughter; with Evie Elems, and Stan Elems, M.S., biology professor, and grandson of Lewis Love. Photo by Susan Love Whitelaw, Livingston CA Historical Society, 2009

Nancy Whitelaw, Ph.D. and Vice President, National Council on Aging, Olin Love’s granddaughter; with Evie and Stan Elems, M.S., biology professor, and grandson of Lewis Love. Photo by Susan Love Whitelaw, Livingston CA Historical Society, 2009

The photos that appear throughout this post of George and Hannah Love’s descendants  are intended to suggest the wide range of occupations they found as they adapted to life in urban, industrial America.  The children and grandchildren of George and Hannah Love forged pathways for themselves in many fields, including music, the ministry, public administration, social service, sales, health care, manufacturing, the military, and small businesses.

 

 

 

References for Lorenzo and Lois Love

Underground Railroad Monument, at http://michiganhistory.leadr.msu.edu/battle-creek-and-the-underground-railroad/things-to-see-in-battle-creek/;  Ceresco, at www.Wikipedia.org;  Rosenstreter, Roger L. (1980) “Calhoun County”  Michigan History, Vo. 64, no. 3, p. 7-10;  Calhoun County Genealogical Society, Pioneer Certificate for ancestor Lorenzo Love, Marshall, MI; U.S. Federal Census 1840, Orleans County NY; U.S. Federal Census, 1850, 1860, 1870, 1880, Calhoun County, MI; History of Calhoun County Michigan (1877), Philadelphia:  L.H. Everts & Co., p. 174;  Newton Township, (1873) Atlas of Calhoun Co. Michigan, New York:  F.W. Beers, p. 57; Love, L.H. & G.W. (1901)  Death of Lorenzo Love, The Athens Times, Athens, Calhoun Co. Michigan, August 3, p. 1. ; Lorenzo Love and Lois Love Gravestones, Burlington Cemetery, Burlington, MI; Berrien, Michigan death certificate (1901), Lorenzo Love; McKillop, Dorothy & Love, Mary Anne, eds. (1991)  Love Family HIstory, MS and DVD/CD Rom reprint, Seattle, WA, p.. 76.; Waldo LIncoln (1902)  Genealogy of the Waldo Family, Worcester, MA:  Press of Charles Hamilton, p. 490.  Sources for Hale family, all on Ancestry.com:  Vermont Vital Records, Benjamin Hale, born 4 Marcy, 1787; Findagrave Benjamin Hale,  died Jan. 1866, Mountain Home Cemetery, Kalamazoo, MI; 1830 U.S. Census, Royalton, Niagara, NY,Benjamin Hale; 1840 U.S. Census, Yates, Orleans, NY, Benjamin Hale; 1850 U.S. Census Index, Portage, Kalamazoo County, MI, Benjamin Hale; 1860 U.S. Census, Oshtemo, Kalamazoo County, MI, William Hale (mistake for Benjamin Hale?).

References for George and Hannah Love

1860, 1880 U.S. Census, Newton, Calhoun, Michigan; 1900 U.S. Census, Benton Harbor, Michigan; 1910 U.S. Census, Woodburn, Oregon;  Death of Lorenzo Love, The Athens Times, Athens, Calhoun Co., Michigan, August 3, p. 1; City of Benton Harbor – History, available online at http://bentonharborcity.com/history/; Gaston, Joseph (1912).  Olin Wayne Love.  Centennial History of Oregon, 1811-1912, Volume III; Biographical Sketches, Clarke Publishing Co., Chicago, 1912, pp. 546-547; Olmstead, Alan L. and Rhode, Paul W.  The Evolution of California Agriculture, In California Agriculture:  Dimensions and Issues, p. 1-28, Giannini Foundation, 2011, available online at http://www.giannini.ucop.edu/CalAgbook/htm;  G.W. Love Dies at his Turlock Home, Aged 64.  Livingston, CA, Livingston Chronicle, Feb. 22, 1918; Death Certificate, George Winslow Love, 1918, Stanislaus County, CA; Marriage Record, certified:  Love-Lewis,  State of Michigan, County of Calhoun, December 1, 1874;  Whitelaw, Alvis,  Oral History, Recorded by Susan Whitelaw, Oregon and Michigan, from 1990-1996; Stanislaus County, CA, Death Certificate for George Love (1918); Los Angeles County, CA, Death Certificate, Hanna M. Love (1946); Death Comes Peacefully to Judge L.D. Love, True Friend, Community Leader, The Livingston Chronicle, October 12, 1933, p. 1; Calhoun County, MI Death Certificate, Rachel (Freer) Lewis, 1920.

References for Olin and Mabel Love

Gaston, Joseph (1912). Olin Wayne Love. Centennial History of Oregon, 1811-1912, Volume III: Biographical Sketches. Clarke Publishing Co., Chicago, 1912. pp. 546-547; Love Buys Home Ranch (October 24, 1919), The Livingston Chronicle, Livingston, California; O.W. Love. (May, 1930) The Livestock Reflector, a publication of the Economy Hog & Cattle Powder Co., Shenandoah, Iowa. Vol. II, No. 1. p. 16 and p. 31; O.W. Love Succumbs (March 20, 1930). The Woodburn Independent, Woodburn, Oregon, p. 1.; State of Oregon, Center for Health Statistics. Certificate of Death, Orin W. Love. (Note typo on certificate: Orin instead of Olin). March 14, 1930, Portland, Multnomah, Oregon.; State of Oregon, Center for Health Statistics.   Certificate of Marriage, Olin Wayne Love and Mabel Clara Goulet, Oct. 26, 1910, Woodburn, Marion, Oregon;  U.S. Federal Census. (1900). Ollin W. Love. Benton Harbor, Berrien County, Michigan; Whitelaw, Alvis. Oral History. Recorded by her daughter, Susan Whitelaw, from 1990 to 1996, in Oregon and Michigan.

Alvis Love, third from right, Atwater School, Livingston, CA, about1918

SOCIAL WORKERS IN THE NEW DEAL: John Whitelaw (1911-1974) and Alvis Love (1911-1998)

 My parents, John Whitelaw and Alvis Love, came of age during the Great Depression of the 1930s. The Depression affected many countries, and was a spur to the development of both Communism and Fascism in Europe, as capitalist financial systems were seen to have failed. The U.S. was hit particularly hard. The stock market crashed in 1929. By the early 1930s, a quarter of all wage-earning Americans were unemployed. There was no national unemployment insurance or welfare, so when Americans stopped earning, they also stopped spending, thus accelerating the downward spiral of the economy. These events caused massive personal suffering; further, many people worried that our economic and governmental systems had permanently failed, and the American dream was over.

John, in the Midwest, and Alvis, in Oregon, both graduated from college in the depths of the Depression; their personal journeys into adulthood interacted deeply with the circumstances of this historic era. Their adult lives were forged in the maelstrom of the Depression, and as social workers in this era, they were able to make a real contribution to their country.

 John’s Kansas Years

John was born in 1911 on a family farm near Lawrence, Kansas. The Whitelaws did not prosper in farming, and lived with scanty material resources. John and his two older siblings, Neill and Eleanor, completed the elementary grades in rural, one-room schoolhouses. Later, they walked or drove a horse and buggy the two miles to high school.

Franklin School, near Lawrence, Kansas, 1916. John is seated at lower left. Eleanor and Neill are in the second row, second and third from left.

Franklin School, near Lawrence, Kansas, 1916. John is seated at lower left. Eleanor and Neill are in the second row, second and third from left.

In the midst of material poverty, however, the Whitelaw children were fortunate to grow up in a household that held education in high esteem. Their mother, Bertha, unusually for the time, had graduated from college with a major in Greek and Latin, and was valedictorian of her class. Their father, John, had also received some college education. All three of the children graduated as high school class valedictorians. John followed his brother and sister to Park College, Missouri, founded to provide academically promising but poor Midwesterners, mainly those from a farm background, with a college education. Tuition was free, as the students worked half of each day on the college’s farm and cottage industries. John spent two years there, and then transferred to the University of Wisconsin where he majored in economics and business administration.

John Whitelaw, graduation from the University of Wisconsin, 1932.

John Whitelaw, graduation from the University of Wisconsin, 1932.

John graduated from college in 1932, in the middle of the Great Depression. He hoped to find a job in Chicago but his job search was disappointing.  He wrote to his cousin, Mary:

“Well, here I am still in Chicago and still very much unemployed. . . . I almost had a job selling Electrolux [Vacuum] Cleaners but you see I am single, young, not a resident of Chicago, etc., and all of that greatly detracted from my hirability in the eyes of the manager. Jobs are really scarce here though and salaries are very low as evidenced by the fact that one of the agencies where I thought about applying told me that I would be lucky to get $15 a week as that was all many firms were paying to experienced men.”[i]

 

He finally had to return home to Kansas. Going back to the farm was discouraging for him and probably wasn’t easy on his parents, either. John recounted that his father “informed him that things on the farm were not better because of the help of a son with a degree in economics.”[ii]  After almost two years of unsuccessful job hunting, his break finally came.   In 1934, when he was 23 years old, John became a caseworker at the welfare relief office in nearby Johnson County, Kansas.

After Wall Street had crashed in 1929, Kansas, an agricultural state, felt the effects primarily in the decline in prices for farm products. According to a historian of the era, the value to farmers of wheat sales fell catastrophically from $153.5 million in 1928 to a paltry $29 million in 1932, and the number of employed people declined 30 percent during the same period.[iii]

Political cartoon, The Kansas City Star, 1933

Political cartoon, The Kansas City Star, 1933

President Franklin Roosevelt’s New Deal unfurled an array of programs to help states provide relief to their citizens. For the first time, the federal government became involved in providing economic support directly to the destitute. Previously, a patchwork of local governments and private charities had offered limited relief on a case-by-case basis.

In 1933, Kansas had almost 50,000 families on relief. The welfare agency John joined was a county relief program that had recently received an influx of federal funds. John’s job was to do “Rural Rehabilitation”, which, in addition to providing cash grants to eligible families, also helped them start subsistence farming so they could at least feed themselves, even if selling crops was no longer possible.

 

John Whitelaw, Poor Commissioner of Lane County, KS

John Whitelaw, Poor Commissioner of Lane County, KS

One of the goals of the newly founded federal welfare programs was to increase the professional abilities of the staff. John, after nine months on the job, received one of the welfare department’s scholarships to attend graduate school in St. Louis for one semester.

After this additional education, John, now aged 24, was appointed “Poor Commissioner,” as the County Administrator was then called, of the Lane County Welfare Office, located in arid western Kansas.   This area was part of the “dust bowl,” and became notorious as an emblem of the wretched condition of many Americans during the Great Depression. About 80,000 people left Kansas during the 1930s, many of them young men who “faced with drought, dust storms, and grasshoppers – had become disillusioned with life on the farm.”[iv]   In many cases the emigrants left their aging parents to survive as best they could on the desolate, arid farms.

As the County Administrator, John oversaw the work of the casework staff, which allocated grants to needy families and arranged for basic health care. He also managed the budget, and was the public voice of the program, interpreting this new idea of a federally funded, professionally staffed program to help the indigent and unemployed.   His salary was $125 a month.

Christmas card that reads: “To John Whitelaw from Helen Martin. Here’s thanks for getting my tonsils fixed.” One of John’s tasks was to help people get basic medical care, using a combination of private charity and federal dollars.

Christmas card that reads: “To John Whitelaw from Helen Martin. Here’s thanks for getting my tonsils fixed.” One of John’s tasks was to help people get basic medical care, using a combination of private charity and public money.

The profession of social work was relatively new when John came of age. The professionalization of a field that had been filled previously by well-meaning volunteers and religious organizations was given impetus by the events of the New Deal, which required a professional work force to administer its programs. John was well-suited to the demands of this emerging profession. He felt genuine concern for others, was affable and well-liked, and he believed in the values and ideals expressed by the New Deal, that effective government could improve the lives of its citizens and stabilize the democratic system. He also was an engaging public speaker, and could accomplish very well one of the key roles of welfare administrators, that of interpreting the program to clients and the community. He communicated a fundamental decency and kindness that defused the anger and frustration that were so much a part of the welfare office atmosphere at this time. At the same time, he could reassure those who worried about fostering dependency that the program, in addition to offering cash relief, also expected clients to help themselves.

 

John remained at the Lane County Welfare office for about a year and then continued his social work education in graduate school, this time at the University of Chicago’s School of Social Service Administration. The School specialized in educating administrators for the newly developing federal and state welfare bureaucracies, and many social work leaders were on the faculty. John financed his education through federally funded graduate assistantships. His master’s thesis was on philanthropic foundations, and their role in community planning and development of social programs. He graduated in August 1937, when he was 26 years old.

Oregon

 

John horseback riding in the Rockies, mid 1930s. (His sister, Eleanor, is at the far back.)

John horseback riding in the Rockies, mid 1930s. (His sister, Eleanor, is at the far back.)

Upon graduation, John was hired by the Oregon State Relief Commission, as the public welfare agency was known at the time, as a caseworker in Clatsop County (Astoria), where the Columbia River meets the Pacific Ocean. Norris Class, a welfare administrator, brought to Oregon a number of young men who were recent graduates from schools of social work around the country. From this cadre came leadership for social work in the Pacific Northwest that lasted for decades.

The job Norris Class was offering John was to establish a child welfare department in Clatsop County. Child welfare workers had master’s degrees, and were expected to offer consultations to the rest of the public welfare staff on difficult cases. They worked closely with other community services for children and were the public voice of the agency, interpreting the new welfare programs to the community.  Norris offered John a starting salary of $175 a month plus mileage at 4 cents a mile. John was expected to provide his own car.

 “Building Human Happiness”

 In September, 1937, when John arrived in Oregon, another arrival to the State was making news. President Franklin Roosevelt came to dedicate one of the glories of the New Deal – Timberline Lodge on Mount Hood.

It is hard to overestimate the impact of the New Deal in Oregon or the popularity of its programs among the citizens. The Great Depression had hit Oregon very hard. The economy collapsed, with the price of wheat and lumber, mainstays of the economy, in steep decline. There were runs on local banks and bank failures; people defaulted on mortgages and were left homeless. “Hoovervilles,” named after President Herbert Hoover, were shanty towns that the newly homeless constructed all over the U.S. Portland, Oregon’s largest city, had at least three.

Although the political leadership of Oregon by and large opposed the New Deal, fearing the incursion of federal authority, ordinary citizens were enthusiastic. New Deal programs, in addition to providing work relief to thousands of unemployed Oregonians, undertook a massive building of infrastructure in the State. In assessing the impact of the New Deal, historian William Robbins highlights the point that ordinary citizens saw the federal government as the source of hope, innovation, change, and effective leadership. He describes the great sense of purpose felt by those involved in New Deal projects, not only to avert a present crisis but to build a better country:

“Although not all of the social experiments were successful and lasting, the social vision and common purpose of New Deal reform was pointed toward building a nation whose benefits and privileges would be extended to everyone. . . . President Roosevelt observed that the great construction projects in the American West would benefit the entire citizenry, with the ‘objective of building human happiness.’”[v]

Alvis Love in Oregon

Alvis Ruth Love, age 4, Christmas, 1914, Woodburn, OR

Alvis Ruth Love, age 4, Christmas, 1914, Woodburn, OR

Alvis was born in Oregon the same year as John, 1911. Her mother had deep roots in Woodburn, an agricultural town near the State capitol of Salem, and Alvis sometimes lived with her grandparents there.   Her father, Olin, who grew up on a Michigan farm, was a traveling salesman for an agricultural supply company, with a route covering Oregon, California, and Washington.

Neither parent had attended college, but her father in particular was eager for Alvis to go.   She enrolled in Willamette University, in Salem, in 1929. After the death of her father at the end of her freshman year, she had to struggle to continue at college and to provide some financial support to her mother, Mabel. Through part-time work and loans she was able to graduate in 1933. She majored in French, with the thought that she could find work as a French teacher, and with the hope that once she paid off her loans she might be able to attend graduate school at Middlebury College, a training ground for the foreign service. However, the realities of the Depression caused her to put those plans aside.

Alvis Love, about the time she graduated from college, 1933.

Alvis Love, about the time she graduated from college, 1933.

Upon graduation, she heard that the State was taking applications for the newly established Oregon State Relief Administration. She was hired immediately, along with a large number of other young people, to staff the new organization. The facilities and the work structure were very provisional. The office was in a warehouse, Alvis recounted,

“with a huge corridor down the middle. There weren’t enough offices so we caseworkers had desks of a sort lined up along this big corridor and apple boxes for the clients to sit on while they were being interviewed. The applicants for assistance or for one of the jobs created by the Works Progress Administration would wait in lines stretching clear down the hall. Some were belligerent. They were family men, responsible people, some with college degrees, and here was this young woman deciding if they would get help! Interviewing people who knew me or my family was awkward, such as the math teacher who had been my tutor.” [vi]

“Rough and Ready” Social Work

 

Two of Alvis's clients at a transient camp. It was enclosed with a card which read, "To Miss Love, From 14 boys who have just lost a little sister.

Two of Alvis’s clients at a transient camp. The photo was enclosed with a card which read, “To Miss Love, From 14 boys who have just lost a little sister.”

Welfare work in these desperate times was sometimes dangerous. The clients were often very frustrated, and some became rebellious. Alvis remembered that once some clients rioted at the office and barricaded in all the workers, until the police came and let them out.   On another occasion a man locked her into the house with his family and threatened her with a knife if she didn’t authorize more relief. She refused to concede and he finally let her out unharmed. Another time she visited an ill client who turned out to have small pox. Alvis escaped quarantine but unfortunately exposed her whole office before the illness was discovered and they could all get vaccinated.

Alvis Ruth Love, 1932, Salem, OR; graduation from Willamette University

Alvis Ruth Love, 1932, Salem, OR; graduation from Willamette University

At one point, Alvis had a caseload of single men, living in single room hotels on skid row. She said, “It was odd they gave a caseload of single men to a young woman right out of college, but in those days the agency’s priority was to find and help people who were desperate for food.” She had to prowl around the waterfront looking for them. One man wrote her amorous and semi-threatening letters. The authorities deemed him mentally ill and he was committed to a mental hospital. She said she never had any real concerns for her safety: “It must have been a more innocent time.” Two of the men on her caseload looked after her; when she visited the men in their hotels, they let everyone know she was coming and accompanied her on her rounds. When she left that caseload, they gave her a desk set.

Like John, Alvis was able to attend one semester of graduate school at the expense of the welfare department. There was no school of social work in Oregon so she attended the University of Washington in Seattle. She remembered graduate school as

“sort of hilarious, something to do with the temper of the times. We drank sloe gin because it was cheap. We had frequent gatherings and picnics, where we danced the schottische and other square dances. The faculty and Dean danced, too.”

 County Administrator

Alvis, as a County Administrator, had to have a car in order to travel over the entire county. Buying one’s own car and driving it as part of the job, at a time when car ownership was not universal, gave these young professionals a sense of independence and personal freedom.

Alvis, as a County Administrator, had to have a car in order to travel over the entire county. Buying one’s own car and driving it as part of the job, at a time when car ownership was not universal, gave these young professionals a sense of independence and personal freedom.

After one semester of graduate school, Alvis was promoted to County Administrator, just as John had been in Kansas. Her first job was in Columbia County (St. Helens), where the County Board of Commissioners, who had traditionally handled relief efforts, was in a power struggle with the State Welfare Office, which thought it was now in charge. The County Board fired every Administrator who was sent to them, including Alvis. Her next position was Administrator of Benton County (Corvallis). Her main memory of that job was that during one severe winter, when the roads became impassable, she carried food up a mountain to a snow-bound family stranded there because they all had the flu.

As Administrator in Linn County (Albany) Alvis, now 26 years old, experienced sexual harassment, an occupational hazard for young professional women of the time. She recounted:

“A prominent doctor on the State Medical Board and also on the State Welfare Commission requested that I confer with him on welfare cases. When I would get to his office, he would lock the door behind me and sit me down right by him and haul out a bottle of whiskey. He tried to get me to drink with him. I would try to get the information I needed and get out of there. Sometimes he chased me around the desk. When I would leave, his office staff looked at me with sympathy. He never did anything to me, but it was a constant effort to fend him off. I would get back to my car and be soaking wet from perspiration. He figured caseworkers were fair game. I knew if I reported it, he could have had me fired because he was on the State Welfare Commission. I wouldn’t have been able to get another job, because there were no jobs. I have a lot of sympathy for women now who are involved in reporting these situations.”

 John and Alvis

Welfare staff picnic on Memorial Day 1938 at the Oregon Coast. Here John and Alvis began a serious relationship. Alvis and John are third and second from right. Norris Class, who hired John and many other young social workers from around the country, is on the far right.

Welfare staff picnic on Memorial Day 1938 at the Oregon Coast. Here John and Alvis began a serious relationship. Alvis and John are third and second from right. Norris Class, who hired John and many other young social workers from around the country, is on the far right.

 John had been stationed in the rural back-water of Clatsop County (Astoria) for only eight months when his life suddenly became much more eventful. In May, 1938, he was brought into the State Office in Salem, Oregon, to clear up an administrative problem involving an incompetent county administrator. He was now at the nerve center of New Deal administration in Oregon.   Through a mutual friend, he met Alvis, now 26 years old and the County Administrator of Linn County. They were both part of a large group of young professionals around the State working for welfare who got together to socialize. At a Memorial Day beach party John and Alvis started dating, and on Labor Day of that year, they got married after only a three month courtship.

 

John, Lt. in the Naval Reserve, Alvis, and children Susan and John, 1945, Stewart Heights, WA

John, Lt. in the Naval Reserve, Alvis, and children Susan and John, 1945, Stewart Heights, WA

Both John and Alvis left the welfare program within a year or two of their marriage. By the late 30’s, the nation was beginning to recover economically, the sense of emergency was over, and the welfare offices were becoming institutionalized as governmental bureaucracies.

John took a position as head of the Community Council in Portland, a position he held for the next twenty-three years, with a break during World War II when he served in the U.S. Navy on a gunnery ship in the Aleutians.

John Whitelaw at his retirement party, Portland, 1963.

John Whitelaw at his retirement party on leaving his position as Executive Director of the Portland Community Council, Portland, 1963.

The Community Council gave leadership to social work agencies, and worked with service organizations and local business leadership to improve social services in the metropolitan area. After retiring in 1963, John joined the faculty of the newly founded School of Social Work at Portland State University.

 John and Alvis, 1959, Portland, Oregon.

John and Alvis, 1959, Portland, Oregon.

Alvis quit work to raise three children, John (born 1939), Susan (born 1942), and Nancy (born 1947).  She returned to her social work career in 1957. She always regretted that she had not been able to continue her graduate education, but with a family to raise and the lack of a school of social work in Oregon until very late in her career, it never seemed feasible to return to school. She became the Associate Director of a large family service agency in Portland. She then worked as a consultant for the State Child Welfare Department, in which she traveled all over the State helping local offices establish child protection programs that enabled children to remain safely in their own homes. She retired in 1981.

Alvis Whitelaw with one of her staff at the time of her retirement from Metropolitan Family Serivice, 1976, Portland, OR

Alvis Whitelaw with one of her staff at the time of her retirement from Metropolitan Family Service, 1976, Portland, OR

John and Alvis remembered their years as social workers in the Depression, when they were in their 20’s, as exciting and fulfilling ones.   Years later, Alvis reflected on the turbulence of those years.

“It was an exciting time to be involved, to see a big problem like this and the programs really swing into action. At first we were providing relief, and then they set up the Works Progress Administration, and our job was to interview people and refer them for job programs. They built roads and bridges and other things all over the state. There was the Civilian Conservation Corps for young people. It was just exciting to be there. I really have never gotten over the exhilaration of that time. We certainly weren’t doing skillful family counseling. We had a feeling that the whole nation was being moved very fast in some direction, and of course it was, with Roosevelt.

We were all excited about Roosevelt and his plans to keep people from starving to death. We had a sense of purpose. We were all united by the feeling we could make a difference in this horrible situation. Welfare services delivery in those years was a rugged affair – rough and ready. These guys needed jobs, so the federal government hired them and made work of building roads and so on. It all seems so simple, looking back.”

John Whitelaw, teaching a class at Portland State University, School of Social Work, about 1970

John Whitelaw, teaching a class at Portland State University, School of Social Work, about 1970

[i] Whitelaw, John. (1932) Letter to Mary Williams. Whitelaw family papers, located with Susan Whitelaw.

[ii] Gale, Hugh. (1968) Concern for others runs deep in Whitelaw family. The Clarke Press, Portland, OR, April 3, page 1.

[iii] Fearon, Peter. (2007) Kansas in the Great Depression. University of Missouri Press, Columbia, MO. P. 12.

[iv] Fearon, p. 150.

[v] Robbins, William G. (2008) Surviving the Great Depression. The New Deal in Oregon. Oregon Historical Quarterly, Summer. P. 10.

[vi] Whitelaw, Alvis (1990-1998) Oral History. Dictated to and transcribed by Susan Whitelaw.

Alvis and friend Randall Stewart, at a political rally in the 1980s on a rainy day, Portland, OR

Alvis and friend Randall Stewart, at a political rally in the 1980s on a rainy day, Portland, OR

How you are related to John and Alvis (Love) Whitelaw.  Look on your personal ancestor fan chart (the one with you at the center.)  John and Alvis are in the third or fourth ring out from you, depending on whether they are your grandparents or great  grandparents.

WHITELAW DNA: WE’RE CELTS!

Recently, my brother, John Moreland Whitelaw, Jr., had his DNA analyzed by the genetic testing company, 23 and Me. I wrote earlier about one finding  concerning our Neanderthal heritage (click here).

The three men are John Moreland Whitelaw (1911-1974), his father John Whitelaw, Jr. (1870-1961), and John Moreland Whitelaw, Jr. (1939-).   All three carry the Whitelaw y-chromosome DNA. In front is John Whitelaw Rieke, whose mother is a Whitelaw. He does not carry the y-chromosome DNA because it only passes from father to son, but, like all the Whitelaw family, he has inherited Whitelaw genes in other parts of his DNA.

The three men are John Moreland Whitelaw (1911-1974), his father John Whitelaw, Jr. (1870-1961), and John Moreland Whitelaw, Jr. (1939-). All three carry the Whitelaw Y-chromosome DNA. In front is John Whitelaw Rieke (1953-), whose mother was a Whitelaw. He does not carry the Y-chromosome DNA because it only passes from father to son, but, like all the Whitelaw family, he has inherited Whitelaw genes in other parts of his DNA. Picture taken in Portland, Oregon, 1955.

The analysis also revealed our family’s deep past through examination of John’s Y-chromosome DNA.   Y-chromosome DNA is passed down from father to son over generations. The analysis places our family in a “haplogroup,” which, according to the 23 and Me website:

“is a family of y-chromosomes that all trace back to a single mutation at a specific place and time. By looking at the geographic distribution of these related lineages, we learn how our ancient male ancestors migrated throughout the world. “

This DNA information supplements and extends the information we have from family records. In this article, I will first trace our Whitelaw family back in time using written records, and then explore how the DNA analysis allows us to go back further to place the Whitelaws in history and even pre-history.

 

Our History from Written Records

James Whitelaw, Glasgow, Scotland

James Whitelaw, Glasgow, Scotland

Our written records on the Whitelaw family extend back to James Whitelaw.  From his death certificate we know that he was born in 1784-85, in Ayrshire, Scotland, and died in 1866 in Glasgow. He was a cotton weaver by trade. He and his wife, Jane Turnbull, had two daughters and five sons, including our direct ancestor, William Whitelaw, who immigrated to the U.S. in 1856.

The written record takes us back a little further. From James Whitelaw’s death certificate we know that his father’s name was William Whitelaw. We can assume that William was born sometime around 1750, since he had a son born in 1785.

 

 

Robert Whitelaw, Portage, Wisconsin

Robert Whitelaw, Portage, Wisconsin

We can even go back a little further.   One of James’s two sons who immigrated to the U.S. was Robert Whitelaw (1819-1918), brother to our direct ancestor, William Whitelaw (1807-1887).   In a newspaper interview Robert said that he could:

“trace his ancestry to the time of the covenanters in Scotland when all but one of the four Whitelaw brothers were killed at Bothwell Bridge and the estates confiscated by the crown.” (Milestone, 1916.)

 

 

 

A banner commemorating the execution of Covenanter prisoners in Edinburgh.

A banner commemorating the execution of Covenanter prisoners in Edinburgh.

The Covenanters were Scots Presbyterians who fought the Scottish government and the English crown over religion. The Battle of Bothwell Bridge, near Glasgow, occurred in 1679. The Covenanters lost the battle to Scottish royalist forces, and many were killed or taken prisoner. If Robert Whitelaw’s memory of ancestral involvement in the Battle of Bothwell Bridge is substantially correct, we can place Whitelaw ancestors in the Ayrshire and Lanarkshire regions of Scotland as far back as the seventeenth century.

An interesting side note: one notable person in this battle was a John Whitelaw, known as the Monklands Martyr. He was taken prisoner, tried and hanged along with other Covenenters at the Grassmarket area of Edinburgh. A transcript of his trial still exists.

 

Map of Scotland. The Ayrshire-Lanarkshire region is dark blue. This area was historically called Strathclyde.

Map of Scotland. The Ayrshire-Lanarkshire region is dark blue. This area was historically called Strathclyde.

The Whitelaw surname is found mainly in the central and southern regions of Scotland and in northern England. The name means “White hill” and was probably adopted by various families who resided near a hilly area. So the name by itself does not necessarily imply a family connection, and so far I have not found a family link to the Monklands Martyr.

In summary, the written record places the Whitelaws in southwestern Scotland, in the regions of Lanarkshire and Ayrshire, from as far back as the 1600s.  This area was historically called Strathclyde, and is shown as the dark blue region on the map at right.

 

Our Scottish DNA

Map showing the major haplogroups of Europe. The red areas, which include Western Europe and the British Isles, are dominated by R1b.

Map showing the major haplogroups of Europe. The red areas, which include Western Europe and the British Isles, are dominated by R1b.

 John’s y-chromosome DNA analysis reveals the major “haplogroup” to which we belong and also a series of ever smaller sub-haplogroups created over millenia by a subsequent, intermittent process of gene mutation. At a general level, John’s DNA places us in the haplogroup R1b, the most common haplogroup in Western Europe today.   R1b had its origins in southwestern Asia and spread to Europe in pre-historic times.  Science has not yet been able to definitively determine the timing and process by which people of this haplogroup settled Europe.  (Busby, 2011).

 

 

 

 

Map showing distribution of L-21. It shows that over 60% of men in the western areas of the British Isles carry this genetic marker.

Map showing distribution of L-21. It shows that over 60% of men in the western areas of the British Isles carry this genetic marker.

The Whitelaws are also part of a smaller sub-haplogroup L21 (also known as S145 and M529), created by a series of gene mutations subsequent to the creation of R1b. This sub-group is very common in the British Isles, particularly in the western areas, including Ireland, Wales, and the west of Scotland. According to Scottish geneticists Alistair Moffat and James F. Wilson, the L21 marker:

“probably originated in southern France and northern Iberia [Spain] and people carrying it came to Ireland and western Scotland. This was not a wave of migration but a series of small movements over time, probably in the millennium between 2,500 BC and 1,500 BC.” (p. 89).

 

The combination of the written record and the DNA evidence supports the conclusion that the Whitelaw family’s origins are in Scotland. They may have arrived in the British Isles around 4,000 years before the present time. At some point they settled in the southern area of Scotland historically known as Strathclyde, probably living as small homesteaders, sheep herders, and weavers.  There we find them when the written record of their existence begins in the 17th century.

We Are Celts

Thanks to Jeff Whitelaw for sending this image of a Celtic Whitelaw hoodie.

Thanks to Jeff Whitelaw for sending this image of a Celtic Whitelaw hoodie.

The Whitelaw DNA places us squarely in the ethnic, linguistic, and cultural grouping known as Celts. According to Moffat and Wilson (p. 158), scientists have characterized the S145 marker (also known as L21) as the quintessential marker of Celtic language speakers on both sides of the Irish Sea, including Ireland, western England and Wales, and western Scotland.

Celtic people are generally thought to include members of clans and tribes who inhabited Europe in ancient times.  These people had a distinctive, highly decorative style of art, characterized by flowing, sinuous lines, and stylized animals and human faces. Their religion was Druidism. They lived as small

The Gathering of the Whitelaw Clan, Oysterville, Washington, 2006.  Everyone in the picture was descended from James (1784/5-1866) and Jane Turnbull, of Ayrshire and Glasgow, Scotland.

The Gathering of the Whitelaw Clan, Oysterville, Washington, 2006. Everyone in the picture was descended from John (1835-1913) and Mary Neill Whitelaw.  The t-shirt colors signify descent from three of their children.

homestead farmers and herders in family groups. Both men and women adorned their bodies with tattoos. They were fierce and brave warriors, but, after a long series of battles around 2,000 years ago, they were finally defeated by the Roman army’s superior organization and engineering skills. Today, Celtic traditions live on in the survival of Celtic languages in Ireland, Scotland and Wales, and in popular culture, such as music, handicrafts, spirituality that connects to nature and the seasons, and Renaissance fairs.

 

 

Thanks John, for having your Whitelaw DNA analyzed.

John Whitelaw, Celt,wearing plaid and playing golf in Ireland, 2004.

References

Busby, George B.J. et al.  (2012)  The peopling of Europe and the cautionary tale of Y chromosome lineage R-M269.”  Proceedings of the Royal Society B. , 279, 884-892.  First published online 24 August 2011.

 James, Simon. (1993) The World of the Celts. London: Thames & Hudson.

Moffat, Alistair, and James F. Wilson. (2011). The Scots: A genetic journey. Edinburgh: Berlinn Limited.

“Milestone of Life: The Remarkable Vitality Shown by Robert Whitelaw”, published in 1916. No name of the newspaper on the clipping I have, but it was probably the local Portage, Wisconsin paper.)

Sykes, Bryan.  (2006)  Blood of the Isles. London:  Random House.

Wikipedia. Haplogroup R1b (Y-DNA).

For More Information

Click here for a complete copy of:  The Life of John Whitelaw (1835-1913), A Documentary Biography with an Appendix of Whitelaw Family Documents, by Susan Love Whitelaw, 2006.

Click here for a complete copy of:  The Life of Mary Neill Whitelaw (1840-1925), A Documentary Biography with an Appendix of Neill Family Documents, by Susan Love Whitelaw, 2004.  Note:  Mary does not carry the Whitelaw DNA, but was married to John Whitelaw and is an ancestor of many Whitelaws living today.

 

 

BERTHA BELL WHITELAW (1872-1964): “The Most Remarkable Woman I Ever Knew.”

My paternal grandmother, Bertha Bell Whitelaw, was in many ways ahead of her time. Born in 1872, she bridged the 19th century world of intensive home labor on small family farms and the subordinate position of women, with the emerging modern world of education for women and the possibility of a career. Her life story illustrates how she was able to meld these contradictory forces to achieve what she herself described as a “meaningful life.”

Bertha Bell Whitelaw, age 90, holding a newspaper for which she had recently written an article. (Goodell, 1962)

Bertha Bell Whitelaw, age 90, holding a newspaper for which she had recently written an article. (Goodell, 1962)

Bertha encompassed other disparate qualities. She lived in small farming towns in the Midwest, which generally lacked libraries or other cultural amenities. She was a full partner with her husband, John, in the hard daily work of farming. Church, community, and neighborly activities occupied much of her free time. Yet embedded as she was in the rural daily round, she also transcended it, by maintaining an active intellectual life. She could read both Greek and Latin, and had an enthusiastic interest in current affairs, both local and national. In her later years she defied gender and age stereotypes by maintaining independence and economic self-sufficiency through her own labor almost until her death at age 92.

How did she do it? Unfortunately she did not write very much about herself, and there is no indication that she thought she was in any way remarkable. Quite the opposite, in fact. But we have some of the letters she wrote weekly to her children over the course of twenty-five years, and we also have newspaper articles written about her in old age, as her community began to recognize that she was, as Pansy Penner, one of her neighbors, put it, “the most remarkable woman I ever knew.” (Penner, 1964.)

Pioneer Girl

Bertha was born on a homestead farm in Iowa soon after the Civil War. Her parents were of Scotch and Scotch-Irish background. Martha Gordon Bell, her mother, had grown up on a farm and taught in one-room rural schools before her marriage to Alexander Bell. He was an immigrant from Northern Ireland, a Civil War veteran, and a widower with two sons.

Front row: Alexander and Martha Bell with a grandchild; Back row, left to right: Bertha, her sister Eudora, and her brother Gordon. Springfield, Missouri, 1897

Front row: Alexander and Martha Bell with a grandchild; Back row, left to right: Bertha, her sister Eudora, and her brother Gordon. Springfield, Missouri, 1897

During the last months of her life, Bertha reminisced about her earliest years.

 “Feb. 1, 1872 was my birthday. Bertha Elizabeth Bell, fourth child, 2nd daughter of Alexander Bell and 2nd daughter of Martha Ann Gordon Bell. Elizabeth for my grandmother Gordon – maiden name Elizabeth Ferguson – who knitted me a pair of white stockings with blue stripes. Born on a farm 3 ½ miles south of Earlham, Madison County, Iowa. Baptized at an early age in the Union United Presbyterian Church 7 miles distant.

Started to school at 5 years, walking two miles. Once lagged behind the older children and returned home. Repeated this and was returned to school by an irate mother. Later my sister and two brothers and I were taught by a neighbor young lady and a farm helper – and still later attended another school – also 2 miles away. Neighbors were distant and playmates few. Occasional visits to relatives, church and Sabbath school were our recreations. Reading aloud at home and a magic lantern pleased us. Also games.”

This memoir, brief though it is, sets key themes of Bertha’s life: challenging physical environments and a strong emphasis on education and religion.

Pictured: Bertha at graduation from Drury College; 1895, Springfield, MO

Pictured: Bertha at graduation from Drury College; 1895, Springfield, MO

Her parents, unusually for their time, were determined that Bertha and her sister would have a college education. After attending rural schools and a high school boarding academy, the girls were enrolled in Drury College, in Springfield, Missouri, where the family was now living. Bertha majored in Latin and classics, which prepared her to teach in institutes and academies, the equivalent of today’s high schools and community colleges. She graduated in 1895 as class valedictorian. Years later, Bertha recollected:

 It wasn’t hard to get into college in those days because not many persons wanted to attend college. I had just grown up with the idea that I would attend college. I heard my mother talking to a young woman when I was quite young. They were talking about the woman’s having recently graduated from college. I liked the sound of that word “graduated” and decided I wanted to do it too.” (Enthusiasm for Life, 1962)

 

Educator

Bertha Bell about 1899, when a teacher

Bertha Bell about 1899, when a teacher

Bertha taught classics and Latin for eight years (1895-1903) in two different institutes in Missouri. There is a family story of Bertha as a teacher. One day she called on a large boy at the back of the class. He said he hadn’t prepared the lesson because this was his last day of school. Bertha responded, “All the more reason to study now.” This story highlights Bertha’s belief in the intrinsic value of learning.

While teaching at Kidder Institute in Kidder, Missouri, Bertha met John Whitelaw, who worked at the family hardware and implement business. She may have met him at the Congregational Church, which his family had helped to establish and where she was the Superintendent of the Sunday School. They got married in 1903, when she was thirty-one years old. As was the almost invariable custom of the time, she quit work to devote herself to the domestic sphere.

John and Bertha had four children, one of whom died shortly after birth. The family moved from Kidder to Lawrence, Kansas in 1910, where they began to farm. They grew wheat and other grains; kept ten horses which they used for plowing and other farm work, and had pigs and chickens. The farm also held a herd of dairy cows, which they milked themselves. Daily John or Bertha would drive a horse-drawn wagon with 20 or 30 gallons of milk to the nearby railroad station so they could be taken to the dairy in Kansas City.

The Whitelaw children at the one-room Franklin School, Lawrence, Kansas, 1916. John, my father, is seated at the far left. His sister, Eleanor, is in the second row, second from left, and his brother, Neill, is on her left.

The Whitelaw children at the one-room Franklin School, Lawrence, Kansas, 1916. John, my father, is seated at the far left. His sister, Eleanor, is in the second row, second from left, and his brother, Neill, is next to her, third from left..

In 1919 the family moved from the farm to nearby DeSoto, Kansas, so that their oldest child, Neill, could live at home while attending high school there. (Many farm children did not attend high school, or had to board with a family in town.) They bought a small house in DeSoto, where they lived, and a farm about two miles distant. During the 1920s all of the Whitelaw children finished high school.   With the strong encouragement and support of their mother, they each were valedictorian of their class. Although the family farm provided little income beyond supplying the basics of life for the family, John and especially Bertha were determined that their children would attend college. Her children credited her determination and encouragement for the fact that they all graduated from college and obtained master’s degrees. One son, Neill, obtained a Ph.D. in physics and became a professor.

Pictured: Neill, Eleanor, John Jr., Bertha and John, De Soto, Kansas, in 1937.

Pictured: Neill, Eleanor, John Jr., Bertha and John, De Soto, Kansas, in 1937.

 

Writer

In order to help finance college, Bertha, then in her fifties, started working part time as a reporter.  She recounted:

“It was 1923. . . our children were off to college and, as any parent knows, that always means extra cash from the parents.   We had lived near Lawrence, near Noria in Franklin community, before moving to DeSoto in 1919. We had read the Journal-World since 1910 and my first thought was to add to the family coffers by reporting.” (DeSoto Writer, date unknown.)

She was the local correspondent for the DeSoto News, the Johnson County Democrat, and the Lawrence Journal-World, and continued as a reporter for 39 years, only retiring when she was 90. During that time, she never missed sending in her weekly reports.

She reported on local happenings and events in people’s lives. A long time friend recounted: “It wasn’t just curiosity which prompted her favorite saying, “Know any news?” She was vitally interested in people and she converted that characteristic into newspaper correspondence . . .”

Bertha, in the dark suit, at a workshop for correspondents of the newspaper.)

Bertha, in the dark suit, at a workshop for correspondents of the newspaper.

In an interview, she said that she considered that her specialty was writing about the doings of people who had been residents of De Soto and were still well-remembered but now lived elsewhere (Goodell, 1962). Just as her own children left town when grown, so did many others of that generation, so this was a rich field for her news-gathering.

She was able to get information for her reports easily because she was very active in the community. She was a member of the school board for many years, was a founding member of the Athenaeum Club, a local cultural organization, and a member of the De Soto Chapter of the Grange, an organization for farmers.   She was a very dedicated member of the Methodist Church, where she taught Sunday School, and was a member of the women’s society and of a quilting society.

Reflections on Old Age

In her later years, Bertha continued to defy stereotypes about age and gender. She remained active both physically and mentally almost until her death at age 92. “She out quilts and out walks us all,” said a member of her quilting club (Kroh, 1958).

Bertha at her kitchen table, where she wrote her newspaper articles on a manual typewriter.

Bertha at her kitchen table, where she wrote her newspaper articles on a manual typewriter.

Bertha believed strongly in maintaining economic self-sufficiency even in old age, and refused to be dependent on her children in any way. She and her husband, John, had only their savings from selling the farm as income. Social Security became available to farmers in 1955, but the Whitelaws were not eligible for benefits because they had not had the opportunity to pay into this social insurance program.  After she and her husband gave up farming, she earned money by taking in roomers, babysitting, selling eggs and chickens, and of course by continuing to write for newspapers. She and her husband maintained a vegetable garden and a cow for dairy products. She made most of her own clothes and bought very few products of any kind. She walked to town every day (about 8 blocks), refusing rides even in rain or snow.

Bertha with grandsons John Whitelaw  (on left) and Bill Whitford, 1940, De Soto, Kansas

Bertha with grandsons John Whitelaw (on left) and Bill Whitford, 1940, during a family visit to De Soto, Kansas

She also remained very active in the community, keeping up her membership in all of her organizations. She taught her adult Sunday School class continuously for 44 years. She never stopped reading, particularly newspapers and the Bible. She said she enjoyed crossword puzzles and word games because they made her think. She also enjoyed stamp collecting and yard work. She maintained a frequent correspondence with her three children, all of whom lived in other states.

She described a typical week in a letter:

“A week ago Tuesday was our bazaar – we served two meals that day and cleared $400. Last Thursday was club – yesterday we met to make out the Athenaeum club books, today I went to Bible class and this forenoon I ironed, washed my hair and worked down some butter, of course besides the incidentals – but I feel well and not really tired.”   (Whitelaw, 1951.)

She may have enjoyed old age as a particularly fulfilling time of life. On the occasion of her 81st birthday she wrote to her children:

“Maybe you think you dread being 81 – probably think you will never reach that age – neither did I and would have supposed life would hold nothing at that age but sitting around and waiting to die. However that is not the way I find it – as to health I feel as well as ever, perhaps, better than at many times, my enthusiasm is I believe up to par, and my interest and enjoyment of opportunities and pursuits still keen. Problems and worries are fewer and with an ever growing faith in God’s promises I can meet them better. So my testimony is that I am as happy or happier than at any time of life. Pardon me for devoting so much of this letter to talking about myself and taking from your time to read it all; but I thought that perhaps you might like to know something of how I feel when I am an old old woman. Take courage for yourselves and do not mind the added years – YOU need not really be OLD.” (Whitelaw, 1953)

References

DeSoto Writer Has Record on Her Job (1958). Lawrence Daily Journal-World, Lawrence, Kansas, date unknown but about 1958.

Enthusiasm for Life Keeps 90 year old DeSoto Resident Active, Youthful. (1962) The Daily News, Feb. 24, p. 5.

Goodell, Jane.  (1962)  Reporter, 90, Aids the J-W.  Lawrence Daily Journal-World, Lawrence, Kansas.  May 24, p. 12.

Kroh, Sarah. (1958) Quilting Bee Links the Decades. Kansas City Star, Kansas City, Kansas. About April 27, 1958 (date is blurred on the photocopy.)

Penner, Pansy (1964) Tribute. De Soto News, Johnson County, Kansas, September 3, Vol. 44, No. 47, p. 1.

Whitelaw, Bertha Bell (1951). Letter to Children and Grandchildren. Nov. 13, 1951. Reproduced in her Biography by Susan Love Whitelaw (see below).

Whitelaw, Bertha Bell (1953). Letter to Children and Grandchildren. February 6, 1953. Reproduced in her Biography by Susan Love Whitelaw (see below).

Whitelaw, Susan Love (2007). Bertha Bell Whitelaw: 1872-1964, A Documentary Biography with an Appendix of Family Documents. Chelsea, MI.

For More Information, click here for the blog entry on Bertha’s husband, John Whitelaw, Jr.  Click here for a complete copy of Susan Whitelaw’s biography of Bertha Bell Whitelaw.

How You Are Related to Bertha Bell Whitelaw  On your personal fan chart, Bertha Bell Whitelaw is either in the third ring (if you are her grandchild) or fourth ring (if you are her great-grandchild) out from your name in the center.

WE ARE ALL NEANDERTHALS

Recently my brother John had his genome analyzed by 23 and Me, a commercial laboratory for family genetic research. The results showed that about three percent of his genetic inheritance, and by extension that of my sister and me, comes from Neanderthal ancestors. We had heard that new evidence from the quickly developing field of human genetics suggested that non-African populations often had an admixture of Neanderthal blood, and we wondered if our own Whitelaw line could claim this heritage. Our three percent puts us in the mainstream; it now appears that most European and Asian people have between one and five percent Neanderthal inheritance.

A Neanderthal Man, about 70,000 BC; John Whitelaw, 2007 AD

A Neanderthal Man, about 70,000 BC; John Whitelaw, 2007 AD

Learning that I was biologically connected to Neanderthals made me want to learn more about them, and how their history is intertwined with that of modern humans. It is likely that Neanderthals evolved in the Near East, after their ancestors left Africa, so people of African descent do not have any Neanderthal inheritance.   Fully evolved Neanderthals populated Europe starting in about 200,000 BC.

About sixty thousand years ago, a small band of African humans also left Africa, following the footsteps of their very distant forbears. When they reached the Levant (modern day Israel, Palestine, Lebanon, and Syria.), about 40,000 years ago, they encountered Neanderthals. Until recently, it was thought that sexual unions of Neanderthals and modern humans, if they had even happened, would not produce offspring. However, now both the human genome and the Neanderthal genome have been mapped, so comparisons are possible. And the evidence suggests that Neanderthals and modern humans created descendants who exist to this day – us!
cavemen-painting
We know from fossils that Neanderthals looked somewhat different from modern humans. They were well adapted to conditions of the ice age, with their internal organs protected from the cold by their heavily muscled torsos and short limbs. They lived around the edges of forests, where they hunted large game animals such as deer, horse, and large, wild cattle. They made spears with stone points, that were probably too heavy and clumsy to throw. Scientists believe that they waited in ambush for animals to pass close by, and then attacked them with spear thrusts. This was a dangerous business. Neanderthal fossil bones show many fractures and other injuries; interestingly, they are similar to the types of injuries suffered by modern rodeo cowboys, who also have frequent close encounters with wild animals.

Reconstruction of Neanderthal Woman, National Geographic.

Reconstruction of Neanderthal Woman, National Geographic.

This direct, brutal hunting method does not mean that Neanderthals were unintelligent savages. In fact, their brains were 20 percent larger than modern humans, and their skulls were anatomically similar. The areas of the brain responsible for complex thought were just as advanced as ours.   The construction of the Neanderthal’s throat suggests that they had the anatomical equipment for speech, and thus probably communicated with language. From archaeological evidence, we know that they produced art in the form of painted shells. They carefully buried their dead, suggesting that they formed close human bonds. They built shelters of large animal bones for protection from the cold; they had fire; they sewed clothes from animal skins. Studies of fossils shows that they tended those who had been injured. In other words, they thought and acted much like our homo sapiens ancestors did in the Stone Age.

A Neanderthal clan about 40,000 BC; The Whitelaw clan on the Isle of Islay, Scotland, 2007 AD.  From left to right:  Susan, Carol, Jan, Nancy, John.

A Neanderthal clan about 40,000 BC; The Whitelaw clan on the Isle of Islay, Scotland, 2007 AD. From left to right: Susan, Carol, Jan, Nancy, John.

Neanderthals disappear from the fossil record about 30,000 years ago. Why, with their bodies well adapted to ice age conditions, and their cognitive and social strengths, did the Neanderthals become extinct? This is a question that is currently engaging much scholarly debate. An older theory looks to the coincidence that Neanderthals disappeared about the same time that modern humans first appeared in Europe. The implication is that modern humans, who were presumably smarter and more advanced, overcame them in the struggle for survival, either by genocide or by taking over their hunting ranges.

More recently, scientists have been considering the effects of changes in climate. About 40,000 years ago, the earth underwent a series of rapid climate changes, which had the overall effect of reducing the wooded forests which had been the home of Neanderthals and increasing vast expanses of open grasslands. The Neanderthal strategy of ambushing game was less successful in open fields, and so their numbers dwindled as they retreated to the shrinking forest areas. Some scientists think that they never encountered the newly arrived modern humans at all, since populations were small and Europe was vast.

Scientific research is ongoing, and is sure to provide more fascinating discoveries about our Neanderthal inheritance, including perhaps the Neanderthal influence on our susceptibility to various diseases.

References

BBC. Neanderthal.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/sn/tvradio/programmes/horizon/neanderthal_prog_summary.shtml

Edwards, Owen. Smithsonian Magazine, March, 2010. The Skeletons of Shalimar Cave.
http://www.smithsonianmag.com/arts-culture/the-skeletons-of-shanidar-cave-7028477/?all

Smithsonian Museum of Natural History. Homo Neanderthalensis
http://humanorigins.si.edu/evidence/human-fossils/species/homo-neanderthalensis

Vergano, Dan. National Geographic. April 22, 2014. Neanderthals lived in small isolated communities, Gene analysis shows.
http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2014/04/140421-neanderthal-dna-genes-human-ancestry-science/

Zimmer, Carl. PBS, Nova Science Now. Sept. 20, 2012. Are Neandethals Human?
http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/nova/evolution/are-neanderthals-human.html

JOHN WHITELAW, JR. (1870-1961)

JOHN WHITELAW, JR. (1870-1961)

John Whitelaw, Jr., about 1900

John Whitelaw, Jr. was born in Kidder, Mo., one of eight children of Mr. and Mrs. John Whitelaw, Sr., early settlers of the town. He was a farmer, with farms first in his hometown of Kidder, Missouri, and later in eastern Kansas.  He and his wife, Bertha Bell, raised three children, one of whom was my father, John Moreland Whitelaw.  In his old age he continued to farm on a limited basis; he died in his home at age ninety one.  He was part of a dying breed  of family farmers, who cultivated grain fields and produce and raised farm animals, with most or all of the labor being done by the family.  Like other farmers, he struggled to maintain this way of life during the first half of the twentieth century, when the country was leaving behind small family farms in favor of larger, industrial operations.

His son, John Moreland (my father), recorded memories of his father; here are  excerpts:

“My father [John Whitelaw, Jr.] was born in 1870 and educationally, my dad had a kind of a checkered career. I know he probably got through grade school with no difficulty and he went some to Kidder Institute [a local high-school level institution], but I don’t know just how much he went there. But he also enrolled for a period of time as a special student at Drury College where Mother graduated. They may have known each other, but I’m sure they didn’t go out together and there was no courtship at that time. Dad was there about a year. He took mathematics and mechanical drawing. He was always very good in mathematics. He always read a great deal, not only newspaper and farm journals, but he also read books.”

“In the family my dad grew up in, he felt that Will, his oldest brother, had the whip hand over him. One of the episodes that illustrates this is, when Will was 16, 17, and my dad was 14, 15, they got a job to saw up the wood for the school during Christmas vacation, the wood that would be needed to burn the rest of the year. They were using a cross-cut saw; one guy on one end and one on the other end and you just pull it back and forth. My dad, of course, was the younger and the smaller, but he had to hold up his end when he pulled a cross-cut saw. They worked like the dickens.

John and his brothers. From left to right: John, Will, James, Henry.

John and his brothers in baseball uniforms. From left to right: John, Will, James, Henry, Kidder, Missouri, about 1895

“When they finally got it done, why Uncle Will, being the older, was the one that went to the school board to get the pay. Of course they didn’t get very much way back then, this is probably about 1885 or 1884. What Will did – he was this sort of a scholarly guy – was he bought the best edition he could find of the Arabian Nights, and it took all the money to buy it. My dad didn’t get any money at all out of the hard work; he got sort of an indication from Will that after Will was finished reading the Arabian Nights, well he could read it if he wanted to. He always felt like he had been shafted on that work project. He didn’t have any say in the decision and all they got out of it was the Arabian Nights. We always laughed about that.

“My parents married in 1903. They moved to a farm in Kansas in March of 1910 from Kidder, Missouri. My father had been in the hardware and implement business in Kidder with his father and with another brother, James. Actually, though, he had had a good deal of experience in farming and worked on farms and, of course, knew a great deal about farm machinery from the implement business, so it was really not a strange venture for him to go to farming in 1910.  “

Pictured left to right: James, Henry and John Jr. in the family hardware store, about 1900.

Pictured left to right: James, Henry and John Jr. in the family hardware store, about 1900.

Another reason for the move was that Kidder was in decline as it had been bypassed by the newly built north-south railroad line, which was located about 20 miles west. So John’s father sold the hardware store.

John and Bertha remained on the farm near Lawrence from 1910 to 1919. Their son John Moreland Whitelaw remembered the farm this way:

“I think this was a pretty good farm that Dad had settled on. Wheat was the major crop although we always had corn, oats, alfalfa, Timothy Hay. Dad used to keep as many as eight or ten horses and mules. We often had little colts in the springtime, often little mule colts. The ground was bottom land off the Wakarusa River, and it was called black gumbo. It took a lot of horsepower to plow that land. Mules were pretty good for that. We also kept hogs.

“Dad and mom did a lot of milking on that farm. Dad used to ship whole milk into Kansas City, and every day he would get up and drive the spring wagon with two or three 10 gallon milk cans in it a little over a mile down to the railroad station so it could be picked up on the train and taken into Kansas City.”

The Whitelaws moved to DeSoto in 1919 so the children could attend high school and still live at home; at the farm near Lawrence, they would have had to board in town. On the new farm, John built a house, barn, and various outbuildings.

no date, late 1920s

John and his granddaughter, Mary Whitford, on the family farm in 1942.

The family lived there until the start of World War II, when the U.S. military bought their land to build a road connecting a new ammunition plant to the railroad. John and Bertha bought a house in DeSoto and lived there in semi-retirement until their deaths in the early 1960s.

John’s life centered on his farm and his family. He was not a very successful farmer; family farms all across the country were in decline in the early part of the twentieth century, and John did not always make good business decisions. He expressed his concerns in a letter to his sister in Wisconsin:

“We tried to get a better deal out of our milk business but we don’t know how things are coming out yet. The dairies are terribly obstinate – of course in Kansas City they’ve all had it their own way – setting the price – doing the weighing and testing – and we were about to be crowded out of any returns – I sold 3000 lbs of milk the first half of Sept. for $50.00 and the dairies sold it for $182.00 and it looks like the spread was too wide. We may have to hold our milk again before we win our point – but we’ve got to win.” (no date, late 1920s)

I think of my grandfather as a quiet, somewhat passive man. He was not religious, but he was reflective; one of his neighbors told me that my grandfather said he never minded the daily grind of milking; he said it gave him time to think.

He was sentimental about his family, and for years wrote weekly letters to his adult children, all of whom lived far away, covering mainly the weather and crop reports. His children and grandchildren visited sometimes in the summer.

My brother John remembers:

“sitting on the porch with grandpa marveling at how that old man with arthritic hands could swat flies – barehanded – and he never missed. I also remember sitting for hours on the back porch with a .22 rifle trying to nail a gopher that was terrorizing grandpa’s backyard. I shot a lot of shells but never came close.”

My cousin Bill remembers:

“a number of times when I got into trouble – e.g. chasing the chickens, forgetting to latch the gate to the pasture and the cow got out. One time when I was milking the cow, or more accurately trying to milk the cow, I got up from the stool to turn the job over to grandpa and managed to swing my foot over the pail with the milk. A fair amount of straw mixed with manure from the barn floor fell into the milk. Grandma poured the milk through cheesecloth to separate the milk from the manure. I’m not sure what was done with the milk thereafter.”

After visits from his grandchildren, Grandpa liked to leave the furniture undusted, so that their fingerprints on the furniture would remain undisturbed. (When I visited my grandparents’ grave, I left my fingerprints on the granite tombstone in memory.)

John Whitelaw, Jr. (my grandfather) in the center; to his left, his son John Moreland Whitelaw; to his right, holding his hand, John Whitelaw Rieke (grandson of John Whitelaw Jr.’s brother Henry) and John Moreland Whitelaw, Jr., his grandson. Portland, 1955.

John Whitelaw, Jr. (my grandfather) in the center; to his left, his son John Moreland Whitelaw; to his right, holding his hand, John Whitelaw Rieke (grandson of John Whitelaw Jr.’s brother Henry) and John Moreland Whitelaw, Jr., his grandson. Portland, 1955.

When he retired in his 80s he visited relatives by train. In 1955 he made a long journey to Oregon to visit our family and that of his brother, Henry. However, he was not an experienced traveler. The first night on the train he ordered a large dinner in the dining car and was so shocked at the cost that the next day he got off the train at a stop and bought a bag of hamburgers, which lasted him until he got to Portland two days later. This story appalled my mother, who packed him a hamper for his journey back.
John died in 1961 at his home in DeSoto. His wife, Bertha, saw him through his last years and survived him.

Obituary
“John Whitelaw, 90, DeSoto, died Sunday at the home. He was born in Kidder, Mo., where he once operated a hardware and lumber business. He later lived in Lawrence and moved to DeSoto in 1919.
“He retired from farming several years ago. He was a member of the Plymouth Congregational Church of Lawrence. He was one of eight children of Mr. and Mrs. John Whitelaw, early settlers of Kidder, Mo. He and Mrs. Bertha Whitelaw, who survives, had been married 58 years.

Jeff, John, and John Whitelaw, DeSoto, Kansas, gravesite of John and Bertha Whitelaw, 2016

Jeff, John, and John Whitelaw, DeSoto, Kansas, gravesite of John and Bertha Whitelaw, 2016

“Also surviving are daughter, Mrs. Eleanor Whitford, Mount Hamilton, Calif.; two sons, Neill G. Whitelaw, Clinton, S.C., and John M. Whitelaw, Portland, Ore.; and six grandchildren.
“Funeral services will be at 2 p.m. Wednesday at the DeSoto Methodist Church; burial will be in the DeSoto cemetery. The family prefers no flowers.” (Memorial Obituary)

How you are related to John Whitelaw, Jr.

John Whitelaw, Jr. is on your personal Ancestor Fan.  He is the father of John Moreland Whitelaw, and the grandfather of John Moreland Whitelaw Jr., Susan Whitelaw, and Nancy Whitelaw.

Sources
Memorial Obituary, John Whitelaw. The Daily Journal World, Lawrence, Kansas, January 16, 1961.
Whitelaw, John Jr. Letter to Ruth Williams. In: Susan Whitelaw, ed. Dear Sister: Whitelaw Family Letters, 1900-1961 Rocky River, Ohio, 2003.
Whitelaw, John Moreland. Oral History. Recorded 1973, Portland, Oregon.
Whitelaw, Susan. Bertha Bell Whitelaw: A Documentary Biography. Rocky River, Ohio, 2007.