The Case of the Springfield Dilemma

Where were my ancestors really from? 

If you've ever watched The Simpsons you know that they live in Springfield. Everyone knows where they live.  It isn't even a question; it's a fact. Springfield, duh.

That's nice. Now let's imagine we're going to visit the Springfield archives and dig into the Simpson family tree a little bit?

The Simpsons Family Tree

Which Springfield should I visit?  Oh... I see...  Hmm...    Well, it turns out that every state in the United States has a Springfield. And, it's not limited to the good old USA.  Australia, Canada, and a few other counties are have Springfield's liberally scattered about.  There are a lot of Simpson fan theories about where Springfield is located. The most current one is that Springfield is in the Southern Hemisphere.

I have run into this exact same issue when doing genealogical research on my family tree. The town of Reichenbach is clearly written in many places as the birthplace of my great grandfather Zimmer from Germany. So, there you go. Case closed. Grandpa Zimmer was from Reichenbach. End of story.

That nice. Now let's imagine we're going to visit the Reichenbach archives and dig into the Zimmer family tree a little bit?

Which Reichenbach should I visit. You mean there is more than one? Wait, what? And, how nice of Wikipedia to rub the salt in and have a nice list of all 27 Reichenbach's in four countries and one on the ever-loving moon!  The moon? Really. Thanks.

Yes, I need to come clean. My family is from the moon, not Germany as we've all been telling you for so many years.

So, what to do.  Getting the actual hometown is critical. You have to get it right, as searching through thousands of pages of old Germany church books is hard enough without being in the wrong state or country. Or on the moon.

Well, as with any case I kept compiling all the data and clues and tried looking at it from as many different angles as I could think of.


Here's how I solved my Springfield Dilemma  

1) Newspaper Obituaries: My first big break came when I found two fuller references of the place, which listed it as Reichenbach, Schleising.   Well, Google didn't find that either, and it's not on that nice Wiki list I mentioned earlier.  In fact, Google sent me off down a road that turned out to be the wrong place with their top listing of Reichenbach im Vogtland, Saxony.  Sure, Saxony starts with an "S" so let's run that one down all the way to the dead end.

2) Death Certificates: The death certificate also listed Reichenbach, Schleising. That had to be the place.   Then I found my great grandmother's death certificate which lists her birthplace as Breslau. That was really helpful! There is only one Breslau, and at the time is was the German capital of the Prussian province of Schlesien.  Schleising, Schlesien. Same thing, and thanks for the misspelling -- it makes my life much more interesting!

3) Old Letters and Postcards: Over the years, I managed to get scans and copies of some old family letters and postcards sent from the old country. I carefully gleaned any place names from those documents, and tried to make sense of them. One key postcard was sent from a sister who was getting married in Waldenburg, Germany -- only five Waldenburg's...  The nice thing about the 1800's and early 1900's is that it is much more likely than Waldenburg is somewhere near Reichenbach, otherwise they wouldn't have ever met.  And likewise, they both must be somewhere near Breslau.

Photographer in Deutch Lissa

4) Photos: Old photos often have the photographer's name and place of business somewhere on the front or back of the card -- sometimes both.   These places are also critical, as I used them in the last step. The towns matched many of the ones listed above, with only one Berlin wildcard thrown in for good measure. But Berlin is like New York; everyone has to visit there at least once. One very old photo was taken in Gnadenfrei, which really helped in the next step. There was also this weird place called Deutch Lissa, but that turned out to be part of Breslau.  You learn something new every day.

5) Google Maps: This was the final and conclusive step in locating the right Reichenbach.  I mapped each and every Reichenbach on the map with a blue dot. I then mapped every family location I could find with red dots.  And guess what.   All the red dots clustered around Breslau in Schlesien, including the Reichenbach right next door to Waldenburg.  In fact, the aforementioned Gnadenfrei  is literally the next town over from Reichenbach. It's a 10km drive. Yes, there it was. My family's Reichenbach! And, it was even listed on that Wiki page I mentioned earlier.

6) Old Maps: Then just to confirm, I found some old German maps, written in German.  Yes, there all those cities are with the names that my family used and talked about.

7) History: Now, I'm simplifying this a little as there was one extra complicating factor. History. You see, Germany lost WWII and the former province of Schlesien was handed back to Poland. Most of the German-speaking population moved into East Germany. All the German cities were renamed, so Breslau is now Wrocław, Poland. Reichenbach is now Dzierżoniów. Deutsch Lissa is now Wrocław-Leśnica. Gnadenfrei is now Piława Górna. And, Waldenburg is Wałbrzych.   Therefore, while I was looking for the German town of Reichenbach in Germany, it wasn't in Germany any longer.  I didn't think of looking in Poland, why would I?  Germany is Germany, right? Yeah, probably should have paid a little more attention in history class.

Reichenbach, Schleising

What's especially nice is that now I know for sure what area my Zimmer family came from, I can reconnect with it a bit more. And reconnected with the right things!  I found this amazing painting by Hans Holzapfel that shows the view of the mountains and cities above Breslau.  My Reichenbach is right there in the middle, on the first plateau at the base of the Giant Mountains.

Topographical panoramic view from Breslau by Hans Holzapfel

Reichenbach close-up from Hans Holzapfel painting

Case closed and Reichenbach Pinterest board created!

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The Case of the Unmentionable Holocaust

The first rule of the holocaust is, "Don't talk about the holocaust."

Many Jewish families who descend from people who made it safely out of Germany during the Nazi era can relate to that statement. Their grandparents and great grandparents didn't talk about the holocaust.

I have told my own story many times, and almost every time I am greeted with a similar story in return.  My great grandparents left Berlin very early, just after the Nazi's came to power. They first went to Switzerland to ride it out, and then moved to New York when it looked like it wasn't going to end soon.  They sponsored and helped many many friends and family to get out.  We were the lucky ones, and it was due to great grandmother's insight and insistence that saved so many of our ilk.

Well, that's the story I was told, and that story is true to a point.  What is left out of that story is that they left about 50% of their wealth behind, and lost a great deal of close friends and close family members.  Close family members, like sisters! My great grandfather lost three sisters. I never ever heard about this growing up. I found them on my own when I started building the family tree. And what's worse is that they were married, and had children.  All three were lost with their husbands, and one was lost with her two children.  Amazingly, three of the children survived.

These are my grandfather's aunts, uncles, and cousins.  And, not a word. In my research I found name after name after name. The Germans kept great records, and I have transport numbers, deportation dates, deaths. Everything. I now have a rather large list of my related holocaust martyrs, which is incredibly poignant and painful to read.

And, not only my grandfather... My grandmother too. This took a little longer to find, but there they are. Her list of relatives lost in the Shoah is just as long as my grandfather's, and includes her uncle James Simon, "the lost composer." You'd think they'd at least mention him. A famous and talented uncle? Nope, not at all. I never even knew he existed. 

Auschwitz concentration camp

Why didn't they talk about the horrors of losing family in the holocaust? I think there is a few reasons for this:

1. It was too painful to think back and remember all the uncles, aunts, cousins, brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, assorted in-laws, and friends who didn't get out.
2. They didn't think we were ready to hear stories about such atrocities and nightmare (you don't tell grandchildren horror stories), and by the time we were old enough they were gone.  
3. Survivors guilt hitting them, as they made it out and many others didn't. 
4. The dream of starting over, and letting the younger generation move forward unencumbered. 
5. Denial. How could this happen to us. If we don't talk about it, maybe it will all go away. 

Please comment with your own reasons.

"We got out, we were the lucky ones," was all they said.

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The Case of the Missing Headstone

Well, it didn't take long before it happened to me.  And yes, if you spend enough time doing genealogy it will happen to you too!

My great great grandparents lived in Rock Port, Atchison County, Missouri.  My great great grandfather, Louis Phillip Kessler, died in 1911. After his death, his wife Helena  moved to Lyndhurst, Bergen County, New Jersey to stay with her daughter, Anna Bennett née Kessler. Helena died only three weeks after her husband, and is buried in East Ridgelawn Cemetery in Clifton, Passaic County, New Jersey.

As it happens, she is buried in the empty area at the base of a tree. There is no gravestone, marker, or tombstone. Nothing. I wrote to the cemetery and got back a good deal of details about the site. There are actually four unmarked graves at the tree base in section 11, lot 324, all related to the Bennett family: Anna Bennett, her husband Martin, Sarah Oldham Milligan (Martin's mother's sister), and my great great grandmother Helena Kessler née Spies (Anna's mother).

This is the exact tree

So, yes. Now, I have to buy a headstone.  Maybe even four of them, as only one would be a little strange. It will happen to you too. Enjoy!

Not only that, this was only the first unmarked grave I've found. The second occurred just a few months ago, with the discovery of a distant cousin buried in my own hometown, of all places!

Grave found, case closed.

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The Case of Helpful Genealogists Who Become Family

It happens all the time. I meet a friendly stranger who gives me extremely helpful advice on some genealogical collection that I've missed, and a few years go by and we find we are related. This is a quite common story that I've heard over and over.  In fact, it's almost impossible to not find a connection!

It's simple math.  If there are two avid genealogists building out large family trees back into the dark ages of history, those trees will eventually touch. It's unavoidable, and for some reason it still surprises us!

Waibstadt Cemetery

The very first time I encountered this was many years ago when an extremely helpful stranger sent me a spreadsheet for a cemetery in Waibstadt. It listed every single grave with family members connected together. It was a goldmine! Doris had been searching for her own family from the nearby town of Wiesloch and had found mine instead. We parted ways after some gushing thanks, and the years went by. Well, just a few months ago I found the connection. My family was her family!  Doris and I are fourth cousins once removed, which is remarkably close for complete and utter strangers.

Geni.com makes it even easier, as their world tree makes it very easy to find the exact connection.  There are millions of profiles on Geni and I am connected to 96,089,198 of them!   That's a lot of cousins that I didn't know about before!

Randy Schoenberg is a fairly well-known genealogist that has helped me quite a bit over the years.  The kindness of a stranger. Well, it turns out that he is actually my 12th cousin once removed. A blood DNA cousin! Family helping family.

And not just helpful strangers. Close friends. My interest in genealogy spurred my friend Tony to spend a lot more time looking into his own family.  And guess what. Yes, we are related too. He is my 48th cousin once removed. We share a tiny bit of DNA from a common ancestor. Family friends!

In fact, every single hint in your Ancestry.com family tree means that someone else is working on that same tree. You have family everywhere! And you can test it with AncestryDNA.

We are all related. Case closed!

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The Case of Someone Else's Baby Book

The Mystery Book

My mother was a bit of a hoarder, and when she passed away it took us a long time to go through all her stuff. That's not quite accurate; who am I kidding, it's been almost seven years and we are about half done.

In any case, amongst her vast collections we found a beautiful old baby book from the 1930s. One of those classic keepsakes you could buy at the time and fill in with all the wonderful information that your child would love to know when they grow up. It had a spot for a family tree, newspaper clippings, favorite songs, special foods, cards, memories, locks of hair, foot prints, telegrams, and lots and lots of old photos.  A true treasure for those of us in the genealogical world. A real treasure for anyone!

So, the obvious question was, "whose baby book is it?"

It had to be someone related to my mother's side of the family. The names, dates, and places were all from the mid-west plains states of Illinois, Iowa, and Oklahoma. Her mother was one of ten children, and all of them were from that area -- and there were plenty of names to go around, so it must be one of those many aunts, uncles, or cousins.

However, this name didn't make any sense. I didn't recognize it at all, and doing my own personal version of a Google search around my house turned up nothing on the surname.  The last name was McClellan. I was stumped, and I dug a bit deeper and went through my tree again. I found that my great aunt Clara had married a McCurley for a short time, but that really didn't help at all. Mc-anythings in my family tree were pretty hard to find. I mean, I also found that the wife of my first cousin three times removed was a McCoy, but that's really beside the point.  Which is, just who is this baby boy McClellan and how did my mom end up with his baby book?

So I sat there with the mystery, and kept looking through the book. And what a beautiful book it was, with those fantastic 1930's cards collected from the baby's birth and then again from his first birthday. Just beautiful. Pages and pages of the stuff. Baby photos, handwritten notes, and more vintage cards.

Baby Cards from the late 1930s

And then it struck me. My mother had this book because of the cards. Not because she was related to this person. She'd probably bought it at a yard sale or antique store, as she had with most everything in her house.  She was an artist, and these cards were amazing.

She also was a romantic, and I'm sure she had some idea in the back of her mind that she would find a living McClellan relative and return the book to them.  In fact, that struck my memory and I had a very slight recollection about my mother telling me something about finding this book at an estate sale. She had bought it to either do something with the cards or find the proper owner. She hadn't done either.

So, I took up the case in my mother's memory. I decided that I would finish this project for her, and that I would find a rightful owner. Being a genealogist, I started putting together a family tree with whatever information I could find in the book itself.  The tree grew and grew, with the idea that I probably wouldn't find a close relative, like a brother or sister to give the book to -- that would be too easy, and if they were around the book wouldn't have ended up in a yard sale. I also had worries that there probably wouldn't be any children, for the same reason.

Using a variety of resources, including Ancestry.com's tools, I started to find cousins on both sides of the baby's family. I didn't find any children. I did find a wife. I kept digging, and I was able to trace the tree back to Alabama in the 1700s. I probably went too far, but I was on a roll, and I ended up finding 13 of his 16 great great grandparents. I did however find out that both of his parents died in my mother's town, so that was indeed the connection.  The baby book had been at one of the parent's estate sales, so it wasn't looking good for any direct relatives.

Once I had a list of all the cousins who were still potentially alive, I then used a fairly standard trick to find them. I looked them up on Facebook. And, I found one. And, what was weird was that one of their Facebook friends had the same first name as baby McClellan's wife. She, at least, looked to be very much alive. And, it really couldn't be true, but in one of photos she was standing next to a man with a somewhat vaguely familiar look about him.

So, I did a little more detective work and found her phone number. A man answered the phone, and within a few seconds I discovered I was talking to the baby boy. The very same baby boy I knew so much about by now! I told him that I had his baby book in my hands, and he was completely shocked and speechless. He was also a little cautious, and there was a bit of silence until he worked up the words to ask me what I wanted for it.

Baby's Foot Prints and Hair

I told him all I wanted was his address so that I could mail him the book, and that I was doing this to help my mother finish a project. Getting it back to its rightful living owner was all the payment I needed.

And that is how his hair and feet made it back to him after all those years.

Thanks again Mom, for some random stranger's baby book! You can consider this case closed.

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The Case of the Mysterious Disappearance of Luke Lukes

First of all, let me assure you that I absolutely understand that reading stories about someone's else family is just a shade more interesting than the selection of magazines in your dentist's waiting room.  Given that, I still think this case is worth reading. You are welcome to gloss over the dates, places, and names, but a couple of names and places might come up a few times and if that happens, that's a cue to start paying attention.

St Blazey, Cornwall, England

Anyway, the story starts off quietly enough in the small Cornish village of St Blazey, situated nicely on the coast of Cornwall with a harbor, farming lands, tin mines, copper mines, and china clay extractions.  In an effort to confuse the Cousin Detective, the Cornish name for St Blazey of Lanndreth is randomly thrown into records in order to make people think it is two places. It isn't. It's one place. And, to make matters worse, the civil parish is St Blaise which encompasses a larger area. St Blaise and St Blazey are easy to mix up.

But I digress, and if you really care about the history of the mining industry of Cornwall, I implore you to look elsewhere. There are plenty of books, sites, and videos all about this time and place.

So, our story really starts in July 1826 when Robert Lukes and Amelia Brokenshire got married and started their family in St Blazey -- what a coincidence! You just knew I would tie up that loose end, didn't you? Sleep well tonight.

Marriage of Robert Lukes and Amelia Brokenshire, Cornwall, 6 July 1826

Their sixth child, a son, was born in June 1840 and was named Luke Lukes after his great grandfather of the same name. Luke Lukes. I looked it up, and double-names are called reduplicated names, and quite common in Wales. Names like James James, Robert Roberts, Thomas Thomas, Owen Owen, and many more reduplicated names. Well, Luke Lukes was born in Cornwall. I said that, right? Perhaps there is some Welsh history in the Lukes family if you go back far enough.  Point made that Luke Lukes isn't that weird? Enough said.

GS Film number: 0226194, 0090240

Well, this Luke Lukes just happens to be my great great grandfather. Sorry, but you knew that was coming. This is about my family. But again, I assure you it's an interesting case even if you aren't related to the Lukes of St Blazey. Luke Lukes got married in 1861 to Alice Martyn, and moved to her hometown of Latchely near Calstock, Cornwall.  At the time of his marriage he is listed as a policeman, and once in Latchely he became a miner. It's not a big town. I think it has one road that crosses another, and that's a big deal.  Fair warning for you to yawn, as there are a great deal of census records to insert in this part of the story as the family started to have children and then moved to Tunstall in Durham, England when a new mine opened there. That's a long way across England from Cornwall, but you had to do what you had to do when the mines closed.  Many families from Cornwall made the same trek.

In 1871 the family of Luke and Alice Lukes had grown with the addition of four children. and was living at Seaton Colliery, Seaham, Durham, England.

England and Wales Census, 1871

Well, you knew it had to happen. Something bad was bound to enter the story at some point.

Seaham Colliery after the explosion, 8 Sept 1880

There was an extremely serious mining accident at the mines in Tunstall in 1880. At 2:20am on Wednesday, 8 September 1880 the coal mine at which Luke worked suffered a tremendous underground explosion, and over 160 people perished, including some surface workers and rescuers. Luke and his son John both survived, but we don’t know if either of them was seriously injured physically or mentally, or if they lost close friends. We do know that it made them question their mining careers. If you want to read more about this terrible accident, feel free, there is even a complete list of the victim's names, which thankfully does not include any Lukes family members.

On 2 April 1881 the England census was taken, and it shows Lukes Lukes living at 22 Stewart St West, New Tunstall, Durham, England with his wife Alice, and six children. There would have been seven children, but unfortunately young Lucy Lukes died at age 3 in October 1873.

England and Wales Census, 1881

I really think that the mining accident factored into Luke's thinking when in July 1881 he booked passage and left for America aboard the S.S. Caspian. The voyage went from Liverpool to Baltimore, and when it arrived on 8 July 1881, he stated his destination was Des Moines, Iowa. He went alone, which seemed to be quite common at the time. Run ahead, get a job, buy a house, and then send for your wife and kids.

The S.S. Caspian (1870-1897)

S.S. Caspian Manifest, 8 July 1881

Almost four years later, Luke finally sent for his wife and daughters. Alice and her three youngest daughters arrived on 1 May 1885 aboard the Anchor Line's City of Rome. Their son John was not with them, and that's yet another mystery. The mysterious disappearance of John Lukes. The two older daughters were married by this time, and both came to the US later.

The S.S. City of Rome (1881-1902)

S.S. City of Rome Manifest, 1 May 1885

But back to that four years. What happened during that time? What was Luke up to, really?

The family settled down in Oskaloosa, Iowa and I presume had a happy reunion as their son, Robert Lukes was born in April 1886. Their youngest daughter eventually married and became my great grandmother.

So everyone is happy, right? No worries. Well, that's where I step into the picture. I am the Cousin Detective, and the first step to finding cousins is to make sure you have your own direct ancestors all nailed down and buttoned up tight. Well researched, impeccably documented, no loose ends, and good solid citations for every little bit of their life.  So, all I need to know is the date of death (DoD) for Luke Lukes. Easy, as their is a cemetery in Oskaloosa where the entire family is buried -- even the ones that got married and moved away. Upon death they all returned to Oskaloosa, presumably to make my research just that much easier.  I appreciate it. Except, everyone is there but Luke Lukes.

Where is Luke Lukes?

This is where the mystery actually begins. I hope you enjoyed ignoring the first part of the casebook, but now it is time to start paying attention. Heck, you might even want to back and read what you skipped.

Going back to the records, I find that he became a naturalized US citizen on 1 November 1886 in Oskaloosa, but that's it. Certificate number: National Records 2, page 76. No other mention of him, and the cemetery and courthouse have no record of his death. This is it.

Finally, I find a newspaper notice in 1889 requiring him to appear in court as his wife is suing him for divorce!

What on earth? What happened? In 1893 there is a newspaper notice that there is uncollected mail piling up at the post office for him. So it appears he just disappeared! The mind wanders and imagination takes over. Why? Well, because in the absence of information we just make things up. It's part of being human. Did he abandon the family, and is being sued for divorce on grounds of desertion? Is it because he found another woman while on his own in Iowa between 1881 and when his wife came over in 1885?  I am sure that the divorce papers are somewhere in the Oskaloosa courthouse, and would help tell some more facets to this story -- NOTE to anyone actually living in the Oskaloosa area, I would truly appreciate any help in finding them.

I called all my relatives, on the phone. I know, right? Talking to people. That's the last recourse, the absolutely last recourse. None of them had ever heard that their great grandparents had been divorced. That was certainly not something that Grandma Rose talked about. She was quite a serious lady and having her parents divorce was something about which she was apparently even more serious.

Enter the Brick Wall. This is what we in the genealogy world call a brick wall folks, and there it sat for many years. It's really not that important a brick wall, as I do know how to get past it and find many more Cornish ancestors. It's more of a puzzle that your mind just keeps gnawing on, day after day, month after month, year after year.

1908 Santa Cruz Newspaper Clippings

And the years do go by -- as if they have a mind of their own. And I've given up on ever finding Luke Lukes. I mean, I Google him from time to time, and nothing much comes up.  Then one day, out of the blue I get an e-mail from someone saying that a Luke Lukes, born in Cornwall around 1840, died in California in 1908.  There are even a couple of handy dandy newspaper articles about his death if I was so inclined.

I didn't care much for the tone of the e-mail, since it basically implied that I really hadn't tried hard enough to track down this case. It was kind of like, "You could try to Google his name, uh, that's what I did... and... I found him." So, it was time to dust off this old case and see what I could add to the file. I pulled up the newspaper articles from the Santa Cruz Evening News and the Santa Cruz Sentinel.

What, what? The Santa Cruz Sentinel? What the heck? That is absolutely crazy and there is no possible way that is true. I grew up in that very same little tiny surf town of Santa Cruz, California. We all subscribed to the Sentinel, and my neighbor Geoff was even a paperboy for a few years! My parents moved there for a job in the 1960s, having zero connection with the town whatsoever. There is no way we had relatives there, especially not a great grandparent. We would have known. We should have known.  Santa Cruz is not that big of a town!

1910 Postcard from Santa Cruz, California

Picking myself up off the floor, I read the articles a few times and find myself puzzled. I mean, he could have remarried and had another son that nobody knew about. He came to Santa Cruz "about 30 years ago" which if you are bad at math, sort of lines up with his 1888 disappearance from Oskaloosa. Seriously, there is no way on Earth this is him, right?

Putting on the fedora, I entered into the dark unseemly underworld of California State Death Certificates. Not that dark really, mostly fluorescent lighting actually. And I found it. The real deal.

Luke Lukes of Santa Cruz, died 26 June 1908

Well, let's see what it says! The parents of Luke Lukes as listed on that 1908 death certificate are not at all helpful. Not at all. The father's name is listed as just "Lukes" from England. How useful did they think that would be? And, the mother's name is listed as P. R. Richardson from Vermont.  That makes no sense. Vermont? They were from England, weren't they? So, I dig a bit more and find that the informant is one Arthur W. Lukes of Santa Cruz, the son of Luke Lukes and Persis Robertson Lukes née Richardson.  So, it's clear that Arthur put in the name of HIS mother instead of the maiden name of the deceased's mother. Groan. Can't anyone follow directions?

Brick Wall.

But, as I sat with my feet up on my desk, my hat pulled over my eyes, the smoke twisting around the single bare light bulb, it occurred to me that Arthur W. Lukes was a new lead.

Arthur is a clue. Clues need to be run down and sorted out. That's their one job.

1880 US Census, Silveryville, California

So, I started tracking down Arthur, and found him in the 25 June 1880 US Census living in Silveryville in Solano County, California with his parents, Luke and Persis Lukes. Yep, that's them. But, bah! There is no way my Luke Lukes was in California in 1880. He was happily living in England in 1881, as I so clearly noted earlier to those of you paying attention. Additionally, Arthur has a few well-documented family trees out there on the web that all seem to stick to the story that Luke Lukes' parents are John Lukes and Ann Knight.  They are so clearly not Robert and Amelia. Nope, this is the wrong Luke Lukes.

Brick Wall.

Except for one thing, and wait for it: John Lukes and Ann Knight are the names of my Luke Lukes' great uncle and aunt! The Luke Lukes of Santa Cruz and my Luke Lukes are second cousins, named after the same Luke Lukes who was the great grandfather of both of them!  Are you serious? I lived almost my entire life in Santa Cruz, and there were cousins of mine who were already there, and had been there for years?! Luke Lukes is my second cousin four times removed, and his son Arthur Lukes is my third cousin three times removed.

Not only that, Luke Lukes of Santa Cruz had a brother living in town with him, and between them they had a good collection of offspring and descendants that still carry the Lukes name on to this day in California.  If your last name is Lukes and you live in California, I can tell you how I am related to you. Contact me. Yes, William, Mary, Theresa, and John of Ventura, I'm talking to you. You're all my fifth cousins once removed. Seriously.

On top of that, since both cousin Luke and his brother Joseph Lukes died in Santa Cruz, they must be buried there. I found the grave of Joseph Lukes in a small cemetery right next to the high school I graduated from! How crazy is that? Random crazy.

Then, just to make things interesting and to really pile up the coincidences, I find in the 1920 US Federal Census that Luke Lukes' widow Persis Lukes, is living at 97 Mott Avenue. Are you kidding me? That street is about four blocks long, and happens to be the exact street my parents lived on when they first moved to Santa Cruz. They've renumbered all of the houses on the street, but at this point I wouldn't be surprised if it was the same house. Nothing is outside the realm of possibilities anymore.

And now as the sun sets on another day, it looks like I've gotten just a little side-tracked here! What happened to my great great grandfather? Where is my Luke Lukes? It would have been an amazing coincidence of epic proportions if it had indeed been him there in my hometown of Santa Cruz, but it wasn't.  I mean, it's still really great to have found a bunch of Lukes family cousins, and I look forward to reconnecting with that long-lost branch of the family in the near future.

But, where where where, where did my Luke Lukes end up?

I still do not know.  However, as I was typing up these very case notes I did one last search in FamilySearch to make sure I hadn't missed anything. And there is a new death record for a Luke Lukes that I've never seen before. That's the thing. They just keep adding records. They never stop. You search in 2014 and find nothing. You search in 2015 and wham, there is another clue.

Could this be him? A miner. Born in Cornwall, England. Died of pneumonia in British Columbia, Canada on 20 May 1895 aged 55 years and five days. Could be.  That would mean he was born 15 May 1840, and all I know is that my Luke Lukes was christened on 26 June 1840. I don't know when he was born, but those dates line up and seems reasonable. Could it really be as simple as that. He just died?

But, wait. What was he doing in British Columbia? The mystery continues...

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