Not counted

Most of research, genealogical and otherwise, is a systematic, plodding process with few surprises. And then there are days where you find an ancestor's name on an unexpected document. 

This happened just yesterday, working through the shaky leaves on one branch of my family tree (for those people who only deal with the living, the shaky leaves are an indication that Ancestry's logarithm has turned up a potential source of information on a person; when your tree is extensive like mine, there are literally hundreds of leaves to sort through.). 

The leaf in question led to a birth certificate from Deer Lodge, Montana for my grandaunt Florence (my maternal grandmother's sister). Florence was the family 'keeper:' the one who stashed letters and objects and documents--neatly labeled in her square-block handwriting, and opened her home when her sister Ella was widowed, taking in more than one of her five children. Florence had two children of her own, as chronicled in the family history she so painstakingly curated and passed down, so I wasn't surprised to see a hint for a birth certificate with her listed as the mother (and her husband as the father). 

What made me gasp though--and I did gasp--was the information in the certificate. The first name of the child was blank. Perhaps they hadn't named her yet? Not unheard of. But then the date, March 21, 1910, which was years off from my records, and the notation, "stillborn." Florence and Claude's second child, a girl, was born dead. 

We have lost a daughter to stillbirth; the pain may be more subdued now, but things like this do jar me and tears well in my eyes: for my own pain, and now, for Florence's pain. I understand how wrought something as innocuous as the question, "how many children do you have?" is. The 1910 census where her small family appears is dated April 18, not even a month after she and Claude lost their daughter. "Mother of how many children?" it asks; column 10 asks "Number born" and column 11, "Number now living." Both columns in her entry say "1." For instructions to the enumerators state, "stillborn children are not to be counted." Even though they very much do. 

1910 Census

Letter: Florence to Claude, 1906

Letter, dated Morton, Minnesota, November 13, 1906 from Florence Richardson to Claude W. Street, Park City, Utah:

Did you get a wintry blast when you opened this epistle from the land of ice and snow, or has it warmed up on its way from the Arctic zone? My but it's cold and blowing and blizzardy and everything else, - all in this one short day too.

Your nice long letter came yesterday afternoon, and made me feel good. My you have a lively lot of Junior girls, from your account of society doings. Tell me what western girls are like. Are they all pretty like in those novels or are they just common everyday mortals? Are they lively and yet not loud, or are they a little bit bold?

It makes me so blue to think of that camping crowd reunion for I'll be just one too many when you aren't there to let me bore you, and I just know I'll be terribly lonesome for you. Of course it's lovely of Minnie Bell to plan it. Do you suppose that about George and Ella Hibbert is authentic? It seems to me they will make a funny couple. I never could jibe with Ella Hibbert, for some reason, although I know she has many good points.

I had such a pleasant visit over at Redwood Falls over Sunday. I went down Saturday noon and came back Monday morning on the early train. You perhaps remember that the nearest point to Redwood falls on the M&S St. S is two miles from town, so one has to take the bus over and have it call for one to go back. The old bus called for me first, so I sat down nearest the driver's box. The thing by little maneuvering holds eight people very nicely, but Monday morning there were eleven inside, and two on the seat with the driver. When we commenced to go down the half mile hill on the way to the station, those seven men and three ladies commenced sliding, settling down against me. I haven't recovered my natural figure yet, I was so completely compressed against the driver's box. The next time anybody catches me sitting in that part of the bus again, it will be because I had no choice.

Mrs. Hitchcock (to resume) had one of the teachers and the superintendent who was a jolly young fellow in to Sunday dinner. She has invited my aunt and me over for Thanksgiving, but I think we shall go over to Marshall as we were invited there first.

Where are you going to be Thanksgiving Day? Somebody surely will take pity on homeless little boys won't there?

Well I got a comical letter from Bernard today, and I expect to hear this, you've had one from Ella. What won't those crazy young ones do next! I'm sending you Bernard's, and if you would just as soon have me I should like to see Ella’s. Then we will have to do something to get even with them. What shall it be?

Well what an idea that your pupils are afraid of your big nose! I'm not one bit, and if you were here I'd pull it for you just to show I wasn't.

Hoping you are enjoying less freezing weather than we, I am

Lovingly yours,

===

A double wedding took place on August 3, 1907, when the two Richardson sisters Ella and Florence married the two Street brothers Bernard and Claude. There is unfortunately no known photograph of the event.

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