A Canadian Mission

I eagerly anticipated my 2016 Canadian visits in September for three reasons. First, I would be able to see my good practically-since-kids friend, Suzanne and visit Stratford.  (Yes, I sort of buried this post and just getting back to it!) But I was also anticipating a visit to the Cambridge/Waterloo area where Rick and I were on a quest to learn more about my ancestors.

One of the surprises in my family history journey was that we had Canadians in our family tree. The other surprise was that we had many Mennonites in the tree as well. I knew little about that faith and was very curious. When I learned that the cemetery where my third and fourth great grandparents were buried wasn't far from our route, we decided to make a stop.

So, we went off to find the cemetery -- very small and very old. And very difficult to find (now in an area where there are more McMansions than historic homes). And somehow, we found them. The fourth-greats were easy -- they had a large stone that had been erected by descendants.

The third greats weren't so easy. We started out by looking at a lot of tombstones that resembled this or worse -- at least on this one you can read parts of the writing. Some were just covered with lichen.

And that wasn't getting us anywhere. It was just a fluke that by looking at names I saw the third great grandmother. I could barely read her husband's headstone.

                   

So, word to the wise. If and when you are planning on having your descendants find you after you are long gone, make sure you are in a cemetery that will keep things in order or that you have a family member that does so. Otherwise, you'll be walking in the rain like we were, trying to read writing that doesn't show up at all! Otherwise, if you're going the cremation route, take good notes and pass them down!

From there we went to the small town of St. Jacob's and after a nice lunch and walk about, visited the "Mennonite Story," a historical center that told the history of this religious sect.

I learned that Mennonites, similar to Amish, fled persecution in Switzerland after the Reformation. They went to the Palatinate area of Germany and then came to America, most to Pennsylvania as part of William Penn's movement to populate his "plantation" (what is now the state of Pennsylvania.) Often you will hear the term "Pennsylvania Dutch" and this refers to groups like the Mennonites, Amish, Anabaptists and Brethern.

They continue to live by high principles, very simply and with a focus toward anti-war.

I felt very proud to be part of this heritage as I learned more about them. Whether one was interested or not personally, the center was very well done with excellent exhibits accompanied by video and audio features and contemporary media. I'd recommend it to anyone interested in learning about various religions.

From America, J.P. Leatherman's maternal ancestors north to the Waterloo, Ontario region of Canada. It is uncertain why but a possibility is that the Mennonites did not believe in war and many moved north to avoid the conflicts in this new world.

To think we came from a line where peace and non-violence were a critical part of the doctrine is powerful and resonates all the more today.

The town itself was very nice -- a bit geared toward the tourist, but the shops we went to had lovely merchandise (and the prices right now with the Canadian exchange rate are to the advantage of the U.S. traveler (see travel tips below).

And, the drive was picturesque as well. Wide stretches of farmland, lots of signs for maple syrup and produce. They have quite the quilt auction which we didn't see -- but a video was included in the center and it was pretty amazing! I'd recommend this part of Canada for a visit if you are in the region.

It's interesting to think that we came from people -- on both sides of J.P.'s family -- with great devotion of faith and very hard work. Seeing the farm country in Canada and learning more about the Mennonites certainly added to the depth of the family journey experience.

Searching for Henry, Herman and Angeline

Imagine you are riding through some of West Michigan's loveliest farm country on an unseasonably warm, late October day. Fields of corn are now dry, tan-colored stalks of gold at the end of the season, glinting in the late morning sun. Soon those fields will be empty, cleared for the winter and bare until spring planting begins.

Hardwoods, late in changing color this warm fall, arch over the dirt road, providing patches of shade to contrast the areas where the fields leave no room to rest in the shadow.

We are on a quest for the home of my great grandfather, Henry Leatherman, who owned 100 acres in this area of Campbell Township, Ionia County, in the 1870s and 1880s. (The 1900s are still a mystery.) He met his bride, Angeline Bentler, here in Michigan, perhaps at Bowne Church, in 1886 when she moved from Berlin (Kitchener) Ontario to Michigan with her father, Herman Bentler and his second wife, Catherine Schmitt, who had raised Angeline from the age of five.

The handsome young Mennonite farmer with a significant portion of land, 100 acres, was certainly a good catch for Angeline and by mid-1867, they were married and living on the land on a bluff overlooking Duck Creek in the northwest corner of his property.

On this gorgeous day in 2017, I journeyed west with fifth cousin Barb Swartz to see if we could find Henry's home or at least the property. We knew it was in Campbell township and Barb had found a map on a site that featured historical maps of Michigan that indicated who owned which plots in various townships, including Campbell, during a given year. Over 100 years later, the map was still spot-on.

This house is probably not his. Perhaps it was built on the bones of the original home and certainly is on the original site, but it is clearly a newer, more remodeled home. It sits on a hill just a few yards south of the creek.

One can easily imagine young John Philip and his brothers fishing in the creek, perhaps taking a well-deserved dip after a hot day working in the fields. You can almost hear his mother or his older sisters calling for supper and knew when you saw them they would be in their plain dresses with a pinafore apron and lace cap covering their hair.

Leaving the Leatherman property and heading north for several miles, we come to a large road (now 76th Street) and after taking a left-hand turn and venturing west over the county line into Kent County's Bowne Township, the Bowne Mennonite Cemetery and church is spotted. This is our next stop.

We are looking for the grave of Angeline who died of consumption (lung illness, possibly or even probably tuberculosis) on a warm July day in 1884. She left behind her husband, two teenaged boys and four children under the age of 12, one of whom was only a few months old.

We're also looking for the gravesite of her father, Herman Bentler, one of the earliest settlers in the county. We know both graves are there with headstones after a search on findagrave.com. We also know that Orvin and Henry's bodies were released to this cemetery, though no obvious grave was indicated.

Herman's grave is the first to be found, standing tall, a dignified obelisk marking his death and that of Catherine Schmitt, his wife. Barb has prepared cedar wreaths and we leave one behind for this man from Saxony in Germany who emigrated first to America (living in Buffalo, NY, for two years), then to Canada, where he married Lydia Bricker Kraft (or Croft) and fathered Angeline and her brother who died in infancy.

Angeline's grave, perhaps one of the earlier ones in the cemetery, is nearest the road in what one can imagine, based on the tombstones, to be the oldest area of the cemetery. Though the headstone was once standing, it is now flat and embedded in the ground, face up.

We trim some of the grass from the edges and leave behind a wreath for her as well. There are empty spaces beside her with no indication of burial. Might these be unmarked graves for Henry, who died in 1913 or little Orvin, who died at the age of 10 in 1894.

We will probably never know. What we do know is that it is a profoundly quiet and peaceful spot. We can imagine Henry and his children standing beside Angeline's grave at her funeral, dressed in their best on a hot summer day.

Henry's life, after Angeline's death and the subsequent death of two of his children, ten years later, just days apart, turned into one of tragedy. But as Barb and I sat under a sugar maple, enjoying an apple and grapes on this warm day, we could only think of the peace, quiet and beauty that was part of this quiet, gentle world, little changed in so many ways from the days 125 years before.

And I was profoundly grateful.