Sunday, July 13, 2014

An Ocean Away and Back: Carl “Charles” Muth’s Twenty-Year Pennsylvania Saga

For my cousin Kathy

When Carl Muth[1] stepped onto the sailing ship he lost his land balance.  His body, like his soul, moved with the water, uncertain and changing.  Gone the stability of the ground, of his extended family, the parish of Holzappel where his ancestors had lived for two hundred years, all that was familiar and safe.  Traded for hope and optimism, floating on the waters of the Atlantic Ocean.
Carl “Charles” Muth[2]

He took with him his wife and five small children. Together they held onto their past in the Duchy of Nassau (now Germany) and anticipated their future in Pennsylvania. The thinnest of threads, handwritten letters also carried by sailing ship, would connect them to those they had warmly embraced and the smiles last received.

Carl left behind the mines and the smelting furnaces that fueled German industrialization and provided his livelihood. While other men wore lamps and descended the shafts to mine ore, Carl had worn a heavy leather apron, protection from the sparks and molten splatters of the smelting furnace. He had tended the ovens that transformed ore into iron, the smelter’s labor in heat, smoke, and sweat, in all seasons.

The Smelting Oven[3]

He had followed the occupation of his father, a foundry worker, and married the chief smelter’s daughter.[4] It was a family occupation, and his sons would have taken up work at the smelting plant, too. That’s where the jobs were where they lived. But Carl had other dreams for them. They could have an inheritance of land. Some folks from his parish had already emigrated to Pennsylvania and probably sent back word of good soil available to men who would clear and work it.[5] With a dream of farming, Carl Muth followed their lead.

The time was right. The Holzappel mine and foundry, sold in 1853, was in a period of management transition.[6] Carl was forty and able-bodied. His widowed father had died the previous year.[7] His wife’s parents were also deceased.[8] The Muth family was free to go. They traveled to Antwerp, Belgium, and embarked on the ship Elizabeth Denison, for the journey to New York. On 14 November 1853 they regained their land balance, setting foot on U. S. soil. There Carl became known as Charles.[9]

Charles’ plan took his family first to Clarion County, about fifty miles northeast of Pittsburgh. He had likely heard about the huge demand for iron for railroad construction in the U. S. Some twenty furnaces operated in Clarion County, producing about half of northwest Pennsylvania’s pig iron output.[10] Here was work that would sustain his family. Charles again put on his leather apron and hired on at the iron furnace, probably as a smelter, the job he knew. 

A Clarion County Furnace about 1877[11]

His job paid a good wage of twenty to twenty-six dollars a month. Depending on his salary, ten to twenty dollars was payable to the company store for the family’s purchases.[12] Charles would see five to thirteen dollars a month in cash. If the family was frugal, they could save for his greater goal of land for his sons.

Two more children were born in Clarion County, two more boys. Charles’ wife Elizabeth died shortly after, a setback to his plans.[13] His eldest sons were not yet teens, the two girls under ten, and the three little boys just toddlers. Charles’ girls were young to manage a household themselves, and he never remarried. Still, somehow, he stayed true to his plan.

In 1856, three years almost to the day after his arrival in the U. S., Charles bought ninety-one acres of woods in Jefferson County, the next county to the east.[14] Savings of five dollars a month for the three years spent in Clarion County covered the purchase price of $170.50. He traded his leather apron at the furnace for an axe and woodland. His two eldest sons, Philip Wilhelm and Philip Charles, then thirteen and twelve, set to clearing the land with him.

Woods in Jefferson County, about 1878[15]
The next year, 1857, Charles began paying tax in Jefferson County, a poll tax on himself, and he owned one cow.[16] The following year he was designated “farmer.”[17]  Over time he established his farm, clearing fields and building a house, barn, and out buildings.[18] He had successfully transitioned from laboring for someone else to farming on his own account, owner of the wherewithal to sustain his family.

As Charles and his children grew older he began to provide for their future. In 1869, when he was fifty-five, he sold his farm to second son Philip Charles. The transfer was made on the condition that Philip Charles meet the following requirements:
·      He would care for his father on the farm, providing him a room, his furniture, food, clothing, expense money, all things necessary to his happiness and take care of him in his sickness;
·      Pay his father $200;
·      Pay his next younger brother Christian Charles Muth $400;
·      Pay his sister Ernestine (Muth) Reiter $300;
·      Pay his sister Henrietta Muth $300.
The sum of all payments to father and siblings equaled the purchase price, $1200.[19]

The deed made no provision for eldest son Philip Wilhelm or the two youngest, Ludwig (then about 14) and Adam (about 12). Philip Wilhelm had purchased his own hundred-acre farm in 1863.[20] Perhaps Charles bought it for him or contributed to the purchase price. Philip Wilhelm was well established and his farm worth $1000 in 1870.[21] The same year the census taker found Charles living with Philip Charles and his young family, as specified in the deed. At fifty-eight, he was a “retired farmer.” [22]

In 1873 Charles, then sixty, bought an eighty-acre parcel of woods for $2300. It had no dwelling house, only out buildings.[23] Timber covered the land, and it laid just a short way from the neighbor’s lumber mill.[24] Possibly this parcel was intended to complete a plan to provide cash or tracts of land for the younger boys, who were still minors.
Woods in Jefferson County, 2014. Courtesy of Bruce E. Kelly Sr., Williamsport, Pa.

 When Charles Muth was in his early sixties, his wife long deceased, and his children nearly all of age, he made a pilgrimage back to his homeland. He wished to see the village where he was born and his remaining close kin. This time he left the stability of his farm, children, and grandchildren and went toward another familiar place where he was known as Carl and folks greeted him in German. Now he belonged to both places, the passage just a temporary transition between his two homes.

Carl’s younger sister had married five years after his departure. Her husband owned a forge in Holzappel, and Carl surely was keen to see it. [25] Being in that environment meant visiting with workers and retirees about the days when he worked there and sharing his Clarion County experiences. On a summer day he visited his brother-in-law’s forge, feeling again the heat and smelling the familiar smoke. That day, 4 September 1875, he suffered a fatal, “violent hemorrhage.” The ironworks of his native Nassau took him back. Carl Muth was buried two days later in the cemetery of Horhausen, the village of his birth sixty-two years earlier.[26]

Horhausen, Germany, 1995. Photo by the author.

Carl “Charles” Muth lived in America about twenty years, breaking the Muth family tie to the smelting furnace and leaving a legacy of land ownership for his children. No Jefferson County probate file records Charles’ death or the disposition of his estate.[27] His farm and woods came into possession of eldest sons Philip Wilhelm and Philip Charles.[28] His daughters married.[29] Younger sons Christian, Ludwig, and Adam all owned their own farms in townships close to each other.[30] All his children raised large families. While Charles’ German homeland claimed his last days and his remains, America kept his descendants and the memory of this thrifty, hard-working man with dreams of land ownership and family stability. Dreams he turned to reality.

[1] Pronounced moot.
[2] Oval detail from P. W. Muth family photo, copy in possession of the author. Location of original unknown.
[3] Eduard Heuchler, Die Bergknappen in ihren Berufs- und Familienleben: bildlich dargestellt und von erläuternden Worten begleitet [Miners in their work and family life: with pictorial illustrations and accompanied by explanatory words] (Dresden: Rudolf Kuntze, 1857), plate 39; digital images, Max-Planck-Institut für Wissenschaftsgeschichte [Max Planck Institute for the History of Science], Library, ECHO, Cultural Heritage Online ( : accessed 14 June 2014).
[4] See Evangelische Kirche Holzappel [Holzappel Lutheran church], KB [Kirchenbuch (church register)] 10, Heiraten [marriages], 1817-1841, p. 95, no. 19, Muth-Eckhardt, 1841; Zentralarchiv der Evangelische Kirche in Hessen und Nassau, Darmstadt, Germany; Family History Library [FHL] microfilm 1,577,006, item 4.
[5] “Descendants of Henry Peter Henneman Observed Centennial on September 1st,” article from a Jefferson Co., Pa., newspaper, after 1 September 1951; privately held by the author. 
[6] “Grube Holzappel [Holzappel mine],”Wikipedia ( : accessed 9 July 2014), “Geschichte und Technik [History and technology]”; citing Rainer Slotta, Technische Denkmäler in der Bundesrepublik Deutschland [Technical monuments in the Federal Republic of Germany], Band 4, Teil 2, “Der Metallerzbergbau [Metal ores]” (Bochum, Germany: Deutsches Bergbaumuseum [German mining museum], 1983), 955–77, and Rudolf Scheid, 200 Jahre Erzbergbau in der Esterau—Die Grube Holzappel [200 years of ore mining in the Esterau—The Holzappel mine] (Holzappel, Germany: Förderverein „Heimatmuseum Esterau eV“ [Friends of the “Esterau eV local history museum], 2008 .
[7] Evangelische Kirche Holzappel, KB 15, Tote [Deaths], 1848-1869, p. 48, Johann Mathias Muth; FHL microfilm 1,577,089, item 2.
[8] Evangelische Kirche Holzappel, KB 14, Tote, 1817-1848, p. 172, no. 30, Johann Conrad Eckhardt (1837), and p. 249, no. 19, Marie Sophie (Meinecke) Eckhardt (1845); FHL microfilm 1,577,089, item 1.
[9] “New York, Passenger Lists, 1820-1957,” digital images, (, manifest, Elizabeth Denison, Antwerp to New York, arriving 14 November 1853, unnumbered pp. 6-7, C Muth family of seven; citing NARA, Immigration and Naturalization Service, Passenger Lists of Vessels Arriving at New York, New York, 1820-1897, Record Group 36, microfilm M237, roll 133, list no. 1143. The ship manifest clearly reads Eliz Davison, Master Jas. H. Tucker, from Antwerp, 644 59/95 tons. This ship was probably the Elizabeth Denison, also 645 tons, used by the Regular Line that provided twice-monthly service from Antwerp and New York. Her master, Jas. H. Tucker, also worked for the Regular Line. See Carl C. Cutler, Queens of the Western Ocean: The Story of America’s Mail and Passenger Sailing Lines (Annapolis, Md.: United States Naval Institute, 1961), 398.
[10] A. J. Davis, ed., History of Clarion County, Pennsylvania, with Illustrations and Biographical Sketches of Some of its Prominent Men and Pioneers (Syracuse, N. Y.: D. Mason & Co., 1887), 114, 116-20; digital images, Internet Archive ( : accessed 16 June 2014); from Open Library ( ).
[11] “Furnace Grounds & Lands of Judge Keating & Son,” Caldwell’s Illustrated Historical Combination Atlas of Clarion County, Pennsylvania, From Actual Surveys (Condit, Ohio: J. A. Caldwell, 1877), 42-43; Library of Congress, Geography and Map Division, ( : accessed 16 June 2014).
[12] Davis, History of Clarion County, 114.
[13] Commemorative Biographical Record of Central Pennsylvania, Including the Counties of Centre, Clearfield, Jefferson and Clarion, Containing Biographical Sketches of Prominent and Representative Citizens, and of Many of the Early Settled Families 2 vols. (Chicago: J. H. Beers & Co., 1898), 2: 1125-26.
[14] Jefferson County, Pennsylvania, Deeds, 9: 267, Alexander Colwell et al. to Charles Muth, drawn 18 November 1856, recorded 16 February 1857; Recorder, Brookville; FHL microfilm 923,845.
[15] Caldwell’s Illustrated, Historical, Combination Atlas of Jefferson County, Pennsylvania, From Actual Surveys (Condit, Ohio: J. A. Caldwell, 1878), 37, detail, "Res. & Farm of A. Ferman"; Library of Congress, Geography and Map Division, ( : accessed 21 June 2014).
[16] William James McKnight, Jefferson County, Pennsylvania, Her Pioneers and People, 1800-1915 (Chicago: J. H. Beers & Co., 1917), 512; digital images, Internet Archive (http:/ : accessed 15 June 2014).
[17] McKnight, Jefferson County, Pennsylvania, 513.
[18] Commemorative Biographical Record, 2: 1125-26.
[19] Jefferson Co., Pa., Deeds, Book 21: 416-17, Charles Muth to Philip Charles Muth, drawn 1 January 1869, recorded 10 May 1869; FHL microfilm 573,879.
[20] Jefferson Co., Pa., Index to Deeds, K-M, 95, Zufall to Muth; FHL microfilm 923,835.
[21] 1870 U. S. Census, Jefferson County, Pennsylvania, population schedule, Henderson Township, p. 2 (penned), dwelling 16, family 15, Philip Moot household; digital image, ( ); from NARA microfilm M593, roll 1592; FHL microfilm 552,851.
[22] 1870 U. S. Census, Jefferson Co., Pa., pop. sch., McCalmont Twp., p. 87 (stamped), dwell./fam. 4, Charles Mooth household; digital image, (; from NARA microfilm M593, roll 1352; FHL microfilm 552,851.
[23] Jefferson Co., Deeds, Book 9: 267, Alexander Colwell et al. to Charles Muth, drawn 18 November 1856, recorded 16 February 1857; FHL microfilm 923,845.
[24] Caldwell’s Illustrated, Historical, Combination Atlas of Jefferson County, Pennsylvania, From Actual Surveys (Condit, Ohio: J. A. Caldwell, 1878), 105.
[25] Evangelische Kirche Holzappel, KB 11, Heiraten, 1842-1875, p. 70, no. 3, Helsper-Muth, 1858; FHL microfilm 1,577,006, item 5.
[26] Evangelische Kirche Holzappel, KB 16, Tote, 1869-75, p. 81, no. 33; FHL microfilm 1,577,089, item 4. "Muth Carl, farmer, born and residing in Horhausen, residing in Jefferson Co[u]nty in the State of Pennsylvania…Came from America to see his homeland and relatives once more and died here from a violent hemorrhage. It was his wish to be buried in the Horhausen cemetery” (author’s translation).
[27] Jefferson Co., Index to Registers’ and Orphans’ Court Records; Clerk of Court, Brookville.
[28] Jefferson Co., Index to Deeds, K-M, 95, Philip Wilhelm and Philip Charles Muth; FHL microfilm 923,835.  See also Jefferson Co. Deeds, Book 128: 177-78, W. T. Muth et al. to Mary J. [sic, I.] Muth et al., 1910.
[29] “Family Tree,” FamilySearch ( : accessed 13 July 2014), for Jacob Heilbrun, K2XT-LQ8, and wife “Henrieta” Muth, L4B4-NBM; also John Reiter, K69J-DL4, and wife “Earnestina” Muth, K64J-XN9. Also, Commemorative Biographical Record, 2: 1125-26.
[30] For Christian and Ludwig, see Jefferson Co. Index to Deeds, C. C. Muth, citing Deed Book 25: 434; and Ludwig (also Ludwick) Muth, citing Deed Books 38: 270, 271 and 49: 138, 160. For Adam, see 1910 U. S. census, Clearfield Co., Pa., pop. sch., Troutville Precinct, Brady Twp., ED 54, sheet 19 (penned), dwell./fam. 37, Adam Muth household; digital image, (; from NARA microfilm T624, roll 1330; FHL microfilm 1,375,343.

© 2014 Judy Kellar Fox,

Sunday, May 25, 2014

Confronting Heritage, Confronting Myself

Readers of this blog have met Rosa Azevedo Luis ( She inspired my talk for the Seattle University Relay for Life this past weekend:

I’m Rosa’s great-granddaughter, and I’m a survivor. Rosa had nine children at home on the farm when she went to San Francisco for breast cancer treatments. My grandmother Julia was nine when she watched her mother Rosa’s slow death.  

Imagine Julia’s terror when she discovered her own cancerous lump. She was fifty, a year older than her mother. Julia had a radical mastectomy, stuffed her large empty bra with Kleenex, and lived thirty more years.

My mom Alice, Julia’s daughter, knew something was wrong with her breast. Her doctor watched it for several years before performing her radical mastectomy, also at age fifty. She bore a zigzag scar down her chest, wore a prosthesis in her bra, and also lived thirty more years.

I’m Judy, Rosa’s great-granddaughter. When I passed age fifty I thought I was in the clear. I was cocky and smug. I was casual about breast self-exam. It wouldn’t happen to me now. I was past the age. My stage-three diagnosis came at sixty-three, missed by regular mammograms. After enduring a mastectomy, chemotherapy and radiation, I had implants. I usually don’t wear a bra. My husband encouraged me on the days I felt like letting go and leaving life behind.

I didn’t want to speak to you because I’m still in denial. I don’t want to be defined by cancer. I don’t want to own it. I aim for health, and I expect to live well into my eighties.

I’m Judy. I’m Rosa’s great-granddaughter, and I’m a survivor.

Survivors Lap, Seattle University Relay for Life
24 May 2014

Wednesday, November 20, 2013

Jayne in the Mid-1960s

Perhaps it was a simple comment he made, or angry words shouted during an argument.  Perhaps it was someone else, a friend, a busybody, or a relative, who told Jayne the truth about her husband.  In that moment the happy life she believed she had collapsed around her.  And she was pregnant.

Jayne and her tall, slender beau married in Reno.  The trip was exciting, and she returned home a married woman, the first step in realizing a young woman’s dreams.  She would create her own household, make her own life as part of a couple.  Eventually they would have a family, and then she would have it all.

A few weeks later her aunt hosted a family reception to fete the newlyweds.  Everyone dressed for best and ate wedding cake.  Jayne proudly showed off her new husband and her ring, emblems of the sisterhood of married women.  She returned home with gifts and a blessing from Grandma and extended family. 

Jayne was a homemaker now.  She served meals on her new melamine dishes.  She dried the dishes on dishtowels her grandmother had embroidered by hand.  She and her husband slept between new sheets, white with broad pastel stripes. Before six months were out, Jayne was pregnant.  The couple would become a family, her own family.

In an instant joy gave way to sadness and probably anger.  Her husband, the man on whom she pinned her hopes for the future, was still married to another woman.  He already had a wife who was living, and they had not divorced.

Jayne’s parents saw to it that the marriage was annulled.  They pressured her to give up the baby.  They were unwilling to raise it.  They felt she could not, as a young, single mother.  There was no other option.  She bent to their wishes.  She did not see the baby when it was born.

Jayne’s mother heard in the hospital elevator about the baby girl just born.  It must have been a girl, she reasoned, as there was only one baby born in the hospital that day.  Other family members were told it was a boy, born on Jayne’s father’s birthday, a bittersweet birthday gift.

The feelings prompted by her husband’s betrayal and the events it set in motion probably stayed with Jayne for her life.  She married another man and at last realized her dream of family.  She is now deceased, as are her first husband and her parents.  Her child, if still living, is nearing fifty, a mature adult.

Jayne’s extended family knows nothing about her child or its whereabouts.  I have always wished to be in touch with him or her, to reconnect the broken link and put a name in the proper place on the family tree.  On the chance that he or she is curious about family, I’ve contacted the Confidential Informant Program of the state where the adoption took place.  Perhaps one day I’ll have the opportunity to tell this story, with compassion toward all participants, to the person it most concerns.

[This post was inspired by Richard Hill’s Finding Family: My Search for Roots and the Secrets in My DNA (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Richard Hill, 2012) and his website  Information has been carefully documented, but source citations are omitted for family privacy.]

© 2013 Judy Kellar Fox,

Saturday, September 14, 2013

K. R. "Lew" Lewis: Ladies in Wartime, 1917-1919

Pvt. K. R. Lewis
  Other young men fought and died in the trenches of Verdun.  For Lew, a California farm boy, military service was a social and romantic adventure.  By a stroke of good fortune, he got to see New York and Virginia, stayed well out of harm’s way, and met many young ladies.  He remembered them all, saving the photos they gave him, along with the pictures he took during the war.[1]

Elva (center), her sister (left), and mother, chaperones on
an outing to the coast with Lew
Before entering the service, Lew had been working for a fruit farmer near Sonoma, California, and courting Elva McCollum.  He was twenty-four; she was seventeen, lovely, and talented.  She was smitten. Lew was her first love.  Elva believed that if he hadn’t gone off to war, she and Lew would have married.[2]  On Tuesday, 5 June 1917, Lew registered for the draft.[3]  He had plans to continue his bachelorhood.

  Private K. R. Lewis joined Company C, 12th Infantry, U. S. Army and trained at Camp Fremont near Menlo Park, California.[4]  On 22 October 1918, Lew’s company boarded the Southern Pacific for the east coast before shipping out to France.  There were other ladies to woo, all across the U. S.  On the trip from California to New York, Lew couldn’t help noticing: “Right across from where I was [exercising] there was two girls[.]  one certainly was full of pep.  she had a pretty smile and beautiful hair  she sang three songs about soldiers and say they certainly were sweet.”[5]  That was on day two, and there were more ladies to come.

Grace Smith, New York
Grace  Company C was stationed at Camp Mills on Long Island, New York, for just over a month.[6]  During that time Lew struck up an acquaintance with a local gal, Grace Smith, whose address he noted in his journal.  He may have met her while out on pass, and they continued a relationship through photos sent through the mail.  Lew, it would turn out, was a good pen pal.

  There were other, unnamed, ladies in New York, too, and moments of spontaneous flirting and closeness.

  In November 1918, despite rumors of a German surrender, Company C packed up daily to go overseas, then unpacked again each night.  On 11 November the armistice was signed, and there was no need to go.  When Company C finally boarded a troop ship, they traveled south to the Army Supply Base in Norfolk, Virginia.[7]   Lew spent the remainder of his service working in the military post office there.  He was the first to know who got mail and who sent it.  Sometimes there was a letter or card for him from Betty.

Lew in the post office, Norfolk

Jeanette "Betty" Richofsky
“Betty”   Jeanette Richofsky of Richmond, California, immigrated to the U. S. from Hungary as a child. [8]  At age eighteen, she reinvented herself as “Betty,” used a friend’s address, and carried on a three-month correspondence in 1919 with Lew.  They probably never met, although “Betty’s” letter is familiar:[9]

            I received your letter on the 7th and was awfully glad to hear from you so soon.  My but it was a sweet.  I was awfully glad because I was so lonesome but I felt better after Postie came.  Dearie I sent you some postals.  Did you get them? ... Oh dearie I am awfully lonesome here.  I have no one to say sweet things to me like you say in your letters.  I wish you meant it.  I am glad you said you would like to see me personally because I thought my pictures scared you so that you would even be afraid to write anymore.  I am sending you a bit of my hair so you can judge for yourself whether I am blounde [sic] or not.  So you will not ask me if I like to lie once in a while.  Dearie I forgive you for that.  Must Close
                                                Your doll
                                                            Betty x plus 1000001
  The brief fling through letters provided excitement for both the flirtatious teenager and the flirtatious soldier.

  There were many other ladies in Lew’s photo collection, some with names, some unknown.  One wrote on her photo, “Your darling Genevieve,” but she may not have been Lew’s darling for long.  The next summer, 1920, he was back in Sonoma County, working in the orchards, and saving money for his own place.[10]  He drove his Model T out of the farmer’s garage where it had been stored, ready to take the next lady for a drive.  No more letters and photos; now he could pursue the ladies in person.
"Your darling Genevieve"

Lew in his 1917 or 1918 Model T Ford 

Genealogical Summary
  Kandido R. “Lew” Lewis, son of Candido Luis and Rosa Azevedo, was born 12 August 1893 in Jewell, Marin County, California.[11]  On 3 July 1932 he married Essie Jane Elizabeth Stewart at the Presbyterian Church in San Anselmo, Marin County.[12]  He died in Napa, Napa County, California, 20 August 1984.[13]  Lew and Essie had no children.

[1] K. R. “Lew” Lewis photo collection, ca. 1915 to early 1930s, about 350 photos; in possession of the author.  Alice Streeter Kellar, Lew’s niece, received his trunk and the photo collection from his widow Essie (Stewart) Lewis about 1994.  The photos passed to Alice's daughter Judy Kellar Fox on Alice’s passing in 2004.  The photos have been digitized and provide these illustrations.
[2] Velda Draper (Elva’s granddaughter), San Rafael, California, to Judy Kellar Fox, email, 4 December 2012, “Elva McCollum, yes yes”; files of the author.
[3] United States, Selective Service System, World War I Selective Service System Draft Registration Cards, 1917-1918, California, Sonoma County, arranged alphabetically by surname, for Kandido Lewis; Washington, D.C., National Archives and Records Administration (NARA), micropublication M1509; Family History Library (FHL) microfilm 1,544,406.
[4] K. R. Lewis photograph, fall 1918, from K. R. “Lew” Lewis photo collection; files of Judy Kellar Fox.  The photo, 2 1/2” x 3 1/4”, is inscribed (recto), “ Camp Mills, L[ong]. I[sland]. N. Y.,” and (verso), “Pvt. K. R. Lewis, Co. C. 12th Inf.”  Also, United States, Army, Twelfth Infantry, Twelfth U. S. Infantry, 1798-1919: Its Story—By Its Men (New York: The Knickerbocker Press, 1919), 366.
[5] K. R. Lewis, travel journal recounting his trip by troop train from Camp Fremont, California, to Camp Mills, New York, 22-30 October 1918; Sonoma County Museum, Santa Rosa, California.  Transcription made by Judy Kellar Fox in 1994 before her mother, Alice Streeter Kellar, donated the journal to the Museum.  All spelling, punctuation, and grammar are as written by K. R. Lewis.
[6] Twelfth U. S. Infantry, 1798-1919: Its Story—By Its Men, 147.
[7] Ibid., 150.
[8] Katka56 [Kathi, Farrell], comp., “Lucas Hall Family Tree 2013,” ( : accessed 2 September 2013), entry for Jeanette A. Richofsky (1901-1970), citing Jeanette’s passport.
[9] Betty [Jeanette Richofsky] (1321 Clinton Ave., Richmond, Cal.), to Mr. Kenn Lewis (Co C. 12th Inf, Army Supply Base, No 3652008, Norfolk, Va.), letter, 8 February 1918, 1, 4.  The letter, inherited by Lew’s niece Alice Streeter Kellar and passed to her daughter Judy Kellar Fox, has been forwarded to “Betty’s” granddaughter Kathi Farrell, Durham, California.  Letter and photo used by permission.
[10] 1920 U. S. Census, Sonoma County, California, population schedule, Sonoma, ED 162, sheet 2A, dwelling 29, family 3, Frederick A. Lowell household, line 15; digital image, ( : accessed 3 September 2013); from NARA microfilm publication T625, roll 150.
[11] Marin County, California, Delayed Certificate of Birth no. 098589 (1957), Kandido Rufus Lewis; County Recorder, San Rafael; FHL microfilm 1,295,780, item 5.  Also, 1900 U.S. Census, Marin County, California, population schedule, Tomales Township, ED 63, sheets 1-2 (penned), dwelling 16, family 16, C. Lewis household; digital image, ( accessed 3 September 2013); from NARA microfilm publication T623, roll 93.
[12] Marin County, California, Marriage License no. 4175[?] (1932), Kandido R. Lewis-Essie Jane Elizabeth Stewart; Assessor-Recorder-County Clerk, San Rafael.
[13] Kandido R. "Lew" Lewis, funeral card, 23 August 1984, printed by an unidentified Napa, California, mortuary; photocopy in possession of the author.  Also, Tulocay Cemetery (Napa, California), Kandido R. Lewis marker; photographed by Jack J. or Alice M. Kellar, 1980s; photocopy in possession of the author.