Genealogy Road Trip

On June 26 through the 28th we visited sites and cemeteries in southeastern Missouri where Lonnie's mom and numerous ancestors lived.  We were joined by Lonnie's sister Kelly and her husband from Colorado. Genealogy can uncover nuggets of family history, and here are a few.

The first day we visited sites near Cape Girardeau, and spent that night in a hotel there.  Kelly had contacted one of their first cousins once removed who lives nearby, and he and his wife joined us for an enjoyable dinner and conversation. Ernie is the sisters' first cousin 1x removed--the nephew of their grandmother.

Sisters Lonnie (left) and Kelly (right) flanking cousin Ernie Chiles and his wife Patty. 

During dinner I mentioned that I'm distantly related to President Rutherford B. Hayes, and Patty exclaimed, "So am I!"  After getting over the surprise, I promised to send her my link to our 19th President, and here's her response:

"You win: your 3rd cousin 3 times removed beats my 4th cousin 5 times removed! And we are 7th cousins 2 times removed, so that's getting pretty close to Adam and Eve. :)"

Over the course of the two days of ancestry search we visited five cemeteries finding the graves of twenty ancestors.  One of the highlights was the grave of Catherine Johanna Doretta (Herzinger) Ebrecht.  She and her family immigrated from Germany in 1838, and arrived in Jackson, Missouri two weeks before Christmas of that year.  Her father, a shoe maker, had come over the previous year, and set up shop in Jackson, about 8 miles northwest of Cape Girardeau.  Within the first year of their arrival, Catherine and her family witnessed the passage of Indians during their forced removal from the southeastern United States that has become known as the Trail of Tears.

Catherine was 8, and could not know the whole story and tragedy of the Trail of Tears.  Later in her life, in 1915, she dictated part of her life's story to her granddaughter, who recorded the tale in writing.  An excerpt from the document allows a fascinating glimpse of that period in history:

"My father was a shoemaker in Jackson, and had a big shop. We got there two weeks before Christmas. During the first year so many Indians were led by white men from Missouri through Jackson. I was so afraid of them when they would feel of my long yellow braids if I’d be on the street.

The Indians . . . had my father make shoes and boots for them, and when he’d tell them the cost, they’d make him take more. He sometimes made a hundred dollars a day. The Indians were passing through for two weeks." 

Kelly and Lonne at the grave of their maternal grandmother

After searching cemeteries farther north, we spent the night at the Inn St. Gemme Beauvais, a bed & breakfast in Ste. Genevieve, Missouri.  

Lonnie & Kelly among ancestors' tombstones. The grave of Catherine, the girl who witnessed the Trail of Tears is on the left. 

Dinner in Ste. Genevieve

One of our rooms in the Inn St. Gemme Beauvais

Chickadee Started it All

It's common that many birders start their life of bird study as the result of a single bird sighting.  For me that species was a chickadee. 

It was during the first few years after I had left the United States Army.  Jeff, a friend, and I spent time in wild places, mostly patches of woods near our home in Freeport, Illinois.  We ventured to the woods about once a week for over a year, and it was during those excursions that my curiosity of the natural world was awakened. 

Jeff had a canoe, and one day we launched it in the Pecatonica River from Freeport's Krape Park, and paddled upstream until we found a spot we had not previously explored.  Jeff tied the canoe to a tree while I scampered up a hill.  At the top was a stand of White Pines, and I came face to face with a bird at eye level on a lower branch.  It had a mysterious, striking black and white face.  It looked at me, seemingly unconcerned for a few seconds, then flitted away. 

My mom's bird feeder attracted numerous birds, but while growing up I wasn't interested enough to learn the species that appeared at our kitchen window.  But I know chickadees were one of them because my mom mentioned them occasionally. The encounter on the top of that hill among the White Pines was the closest I had come to one.  I suddenly felt the compulsion to know more. 

A few days later I bought my first bird book.  After glancing through the pages for a while I concluded that the bird I encountered was a Black-capped Chickadee.  Now I live in southern Illinois, below the dividing line between Black-capped and Carolina Chickadees.  All of ours are the latter species, one of which is pictured below.

I now have almost 450 species of birds on my life list, but fondly remember the encounter on the top of that hill, the one that launched me on a life of birding, fulfilling adventures in nature, and numerous lessons from the natural world.

Carolina Chickadee

Whoopers

In February of this year, 2016, I saw a news article about Whooping Cranes, and on a whim, checked a birding web site--eBird.org--to see where the closest cranes might be.  I was surprised to see a cluster of markers indicating sightings of four immature Whooping Cranes at Kaskaskia Island, near Chester, Illinois.  They dated from mid-January to the present.  So I planned a road trip.

Historical Perspective:  The town of Kaskaskia, at one time located on a peninsula with the Mississippi River curving round its western side, was the capital of the Illinois Territory from 1809 until statehood in 1818 at which time it became the state capital.  In 1819 the capital was moved to Vandalia because of the threat of periodic flooding. 

Going further into history, Kaskaskia began as an American Indian village on the banks of the Mississippi, and was later occupied by French colonialists.  British forces during the French and Indian War captured Kaskaskia in 1763.  The town remained under British rule until the American Revolution during which a band of 200 men under the command of George Rogers Clark traveled by boat from Louisville, Kentucky to what would become the eastern border of Illinois, then marched overland to Kaskaskia.  They arrived in the middle of the night, and captured the town on 4 July 1778 without firing a shot.

The population of Kaskaskia peaked at 7000 inhabitants during the period it served as the state capital, but has fallen steadily ever since.  The 2010 census counted only 12 residents, and fewer may reside there today making it the second smallest incorporated town in Illinois. 

In the late 1800s the Mississippi River changed its course, resulting in the peninsula becoming an island ringed by a bayou and suddenly located on the west side of the river.   The approximate dimensions of the island are 4 x 5 miles.

25 February 2016:  A friend, Ken Pierson, and I drove through southern Illinois to Kaskaskia Island to see if we could find the four Whooping Cranes reported there.  I had a GPS waypoint marking the location of a sighing two days before, and we drove directly to that spot.

A quick scan over the low-lying farm fields revealed no birds, but then Ken spotted four large white birds with black wingtips taking off from a point farther to our northeast.  We both brought binoculars to our eyes, and Bingo!  Four Whooping Cranes!

We followed them and watched as they fed in a farm field near a body of water, then followed again as they flew to another area to feed.  We watched them for about an hour-and-a-half.

In 1941 only 15 Whooping Cranes existed, but through the diligent work of biologists they slowly recovered sufficiently for some of them to be released back into the wild.  According to the US Fish & Wildlife Service, the current population is 603 with 161 of them captive birds--for species preservation.  About two decades ago a winter population of the cranes was established in Florida in the event that a storm wiped out the residual Texas population.  Today 95 of  the endangered birds  winter in Florida and spend the breeding season in Wisconsin. 

I presume that the four birds we saw are from the Florida population.  For whatever reason they have spent the past six weeks or so at Kaskaskia.  It is excellent habitat for them albeit possibly a bit cold in January and February.  It will be interesting to see if they return to the island next year.  Perhaps it will become a regular stop on their way to or from Wisconsin or Canada. 

Army Radio

When I returned from Vietnam six months were left on my time in the army.  I was sent to Fort Dix, New Jersey, where I became a platoon sergeant in a basic training company.  I had a room to myself that had a small bed, a couple of lockers, and not much else.  In a used furniture store I found a small table and a chair to make my room more homey.  It helped but it was still a lonely space.  I decided what it needed was a source of music and news: a radio.  I walked to the PX (post exchange), and bought the store's most expensive radio, a Panasonic with a wood cabinet and a door covering the unit's control knobs.  I liked the way it looked, and figured it would have the best sound.  That hunch turned out well; the walnut case combined with two good speakers produce a warm, rich, and full tone.

Panasonic Model RE-7487

On the back of the unit are connections for an FM antenna but I didn't have one.  But what I did have access to was a roll of Army trip wire (very similar to florists' wire although it's olive drab rather than forest green).

I pounded four small nails in the corners of the room up near the ceiling, then attached the wire to the back of the radio and ran it up and around the nails.  I was then able to pull in numerous FM stations, and listened often to WNEW from New York City, about 60 miles to the northeast.

I still have the Panasonic Radio, and have used it continuously since I bought it in 1969. I've used real FM antennae over the years but it's not possible to align an FM antenna in an east-west orientation given the radio's present location, pictured above.  So I made a loop of wire using the roll of trip wire, attaching one end to each terminal on the back of the radio, and dropping it behind the book case.  The radio now pulls in the NPR station in St. Louis, KWMU, St. Louis Public Radio.  It has a weak signal, at least this far away, and must come through areas of interference.  But the trip wire antenna allows perfect reception.

 

So here we are forty-six years removed from my small room in the barracks of Fort Dix, and I'm still listening to the same radio and using Army trip wire as an antenna.  

Butterflies

It was just a matter of time:  I've been mildly interested in butterflies for the past few years, and have taken photographs of those that allowed a close approach.  I recently purchased a copy of Eastern Butterflies, an entry in the Peterson Field Guide series, so for the first time am able to identify some of the butterflies I've photographed.

 A Gray Hairstreak. They dine on a multitude of flowers and fruits.

A Red-spotted Purple, also called White Admiral, that I found in my yard about two weeks ago. They eat tree leaves.

And a pretty Red Admiral.  They are usually found near streams, but can be anywhere during migration. I learned something: the Monarch is not the only butterfly that migrates.  Cool.

I think this is an Eastern Tiger Swallowtail.

2015 Woodcock Surveys

2015 Woodcock Surveys

For the past month or so I've been conducting Woodcock Surveys for the University of Arkansas. A professor there is studying Woodcock migration, and Cari, a creative graduate student working on a masters degree and assisting with the study reached out seeking volunteers to submit data. She built a team of volunteers on her own initiative, mainly because the university needed data pertaining to Woodcock migration, and they lacked funds. To date she has 260 volunteers in four states.

Over the late winter and early spring I conducted about fifteen surveys, each consisting of staking out a potential display field and then waiting for darkness--the mating displays normally begin about twenty minutes after sunset. I checked a different spot each night because they wanted multiple sites surveyed rather than the same ones multiple times. I either saw or heard Woodcock during all but three or four nights on prospective Woodcock display fields ranging over three counties.

The study ends in Illinois today, 9 April; however, Woodcock mating displays, for resident birds, will continue for at least another month--we usually get them on the Spring Bird Count. Here are some things I learned during this year's surveys:

The early Woodcock arrivals are most likely migrants that won't stick around. During migration, like most birds, they're excited to get up to their nesting grounds, and because their hormone levels are rising, perform mating displays at stopover locations while waiting for the next winds from the south. (Very few birds can fly long distances against the wind, and wait for winds blowing the direction they want to go.) During their trip north, they can be found displaying in a wide range of habitat. I found them one night in an agricultural field, and Cari told me that another volunteer once found them in a city park.

Migration ended here, I think, a week or so ago, which helps explain why our Woodcock Mating Display field trip of 30 March was not a resounding success. The date was midway between the departure of migrating birds and the smaller number of resident birds had either not yet arrived or had not selected nesting location and associated display fields. But nevertheless Woodcock were present on that evening. We saw one, heard two or three "Peent" calls, and heard one or two flight songs.

As Spring progresses Woodcock are found less in agricultural fields or other abnormal habitat, mainly because migration is winding down. The birds that nest here, of course, find their preferred habitat, which consists of overgrown fields near woods. They nest in the woods, hence their name, but display in open areas not far removed from their woods so that they can be seen by females as they rise into the air, spiraling upward to an average of 250 feet. Some of these display areas have grasses several feet in height as well as scattered shrubs and trees.

Great Horned Owl and Woodcock don't mix. I surveyed a field of prime Woodcock habitat in the Santa Fe Bottoms a few nights ago. A fellow birder spotted Woodcock there a few weeks ago, and accordingly it was worth visiting. Shortly after dark, about the time I'd expect to hear Woodcock, I heard instead the soft hoots of a Great Horned Owl. It hooted five or six times, and then flew past my vehicle and landed in a row of trees not far away. I checked with the university about the likelihood of Great Horned Owls scaring away Woodcock, and their response was:  "As for the Great Horned Owl, yes, they will definitely keep woodcock quiet or keep them from an area.  Owls are attracted to singing grounds [display fields] because they can make for an easy meal, the woodcock will react accordingly."

While waiting in the darkness on many evenings, I spotted several species of mammals including White-tailed Deer, Coyote, Red Fox, Raccoon, Opossum, bats, and Groundhog.  All were enjoyable alternative natural experiences.

Cari will earn her Master's degree this summer, and will enter the real world, but I suppose another graduate student will pick up where she leaves off, and if so, we can look forward to more fun finding Woodcock next year.

Post Army Newspaper Article

A few weeks after leaving the US Army a newspaper reporter knocked on our family door and expressed interest in developing an article about my military experiences. (I think my mom but a bug in their ear.) He took a photo, and it appeared along with the article in the Rockford Morning Star edition of 16 June 1969. The headline read, "Peace Symbols, Purple Hearts for Ex-GI."

The reported wanted me to pose holding my medals, but I rejected that notion. Instead he took this photo on the banks of Yellow Creek a few steps from our family home's front door:

And here's the article. (To enlarge, click, then right click and select "view image")