Broken Wings: Finding George Remus

A few weeks ago, while attending a festival in my Mother's hometown, Falmouth, we stopped in to Riverside cemetery to "visit" with my grandparents. As we paid our respects, I realized it was just daylight enough to go scoundrel hunting. About a year ago, I was watching Ken Burns' series Prohibition. As the story unfolded, he covered a chapter of history I had only vaguely heard stories about: prohibition and the Cincinnati area. I knew the Cincinnati/Northern Kentucky area had been a hotbed of illegal activity that began with the prohibition era, but I had never heard of its king: George Remus. In a stunning footnote to history, it turns out George was buried in the same cemetery as my grandparents, despite his life and death in the Cincinnati/Covington areas. Burns also noted that locals remembered his stone because it contained angels, whose wings were ripped off shortly after he was buried there. This was something I had to see for myself.

In very short order, we found him. It wasn't hard at all since the cemetery isn't that large. Plus, I can count on one hand the number of stones that contain any type of statue. Based on the date of his death, I knew he had to be in the older portion of the cemetery, and with the "angels" clue, we found him within a few minutes of driving around. And sure enough, the wings were missing.

The stone itself marks a joint plot containing George, his third wife, Blanche Watson, and two individuals from Blanche's family: Belle and J. Taylor Watson. Based on the life dates of Belle and J. Taylor, I'm guessing this may be Blanche's parents (Belle: 1854-1938 & J. Taylor: 1846-1889)

So, looking at the stone as a joint product, I tried to link up a timeline of its construction. Based on the style of the stones, it was not something from the 1880s when J. Taylor died, nor did it appear to be contemporary to the 1950s when George died. However, taking the death date of Belle into consideration, I'm guessing the stone was nearer to her death date of 1938, when George and Blanche were already a married couple.

I also noticed that the individual burial locations based on gender had been switched. In most cases, the husband is planted first, on the left, and the wife on the right. Here we have George and Blanche correct, but Belle and J. Taylor are switched to place Belle and Blanche next to each other. This is not completely unheard of, but solidifies a close bond between the women. Ironically, in the newer part of the cemetery, my grandparents pulled the same switcheroo so my grandmother and her sister could be buried next to one another without displacing their spouses. Of course, even this switch is odd because if J. Taylor was the first to be interred in 1889, Blanche and George did not even know each other at the time. Perhaps the arrangement was made sentimentally at an earlier date? Conjecture on my part - but all things must be considered when analyzing burial placement. Of course, it goes without saying: wouldn't we also love to know who ripped the wings off? If it was done prior to Blanche's death in 1974, as the reports say, why didn't she have them repaired? Unless she knew that was a useless waste of money.

If the monument itself is a product of 1938, this speaks volumes as to George's last years. These years are something that has begun to intrigue me a bit. Of all the things written about George, his bootlegging, prison time, and murder of his second wife (without prison time for the murder), very little has been written of his years after prohibition. The last 20 years or so are relegated to postscripts - most concur that he attempted to rebuild his fortune, through business and liquor sales, etc., but they all conclude that he failed in his attempt and lived out the rest of his years in obscurity, dying at his home in Covington. But, how obscurely did he live, and to what extent did he really fail?

According to other reports, he had a nice real estate office in Cincinnati, and even owned stock in the Reds baseball team. From what I remember of Burns' production, it was the liquor part that failed on the second go round. I'm assuming the rest of his business was lucrative, at least to provide comfortable means. Let's just assume that the stone itself, in all its elaborate design serves as proof that George did have a decent size fortune. After all, the rest of Blanche's family plot does not match this opulence. The surrounding Watson stones are modest to say the least - very small indeed. Which brings me to the conclusion that the statue was a product of George's money, not Blanche's.

If you ever get the time, you should read up on George. It is a fascinating story. As a young German immigrant (age 5), he was later known as the King of the Bootleggers, and also got away with murder after shooting his second wife, Imogene, in cold blood up at Eden Park. Seriously, a rather twisted guy. Legend has it that Fitzgerald based his Great Gatsby character on Remus after meeting him at the Seelbach Hotel in Louisville (legend light on documentation) - but you get the idea about this guy's lavish and brazen lifestyle.

I also found it worth note that his change in professional venue from Chicago to Cincinnati, during the height of prohibition, was not just based on the overly crowded and protected territory under Capone, but on the German friendly population of Cincinnati that was already adept at producing a crap ton of liquor. Those family ties folks - remain strong in crime as well as genealogy.

As a postscript to my own family history - George's link to Falmouth has intrigued me even more. When I heard about the prolific nature of liquor production in Northern Kentucky, during and after prohibition, I suspected my great-grandfather's German immigrant family had a part in this profession. They were always listed as farmers in the census, but the family tradition of wine production is cemented with family artifacts related to said endeavor. One court record even relates the story of accused slander during a wine sale gone wrong - in Covington.

The family's wine production is a subject I hope to research more, but it's hard to research a profession purposefully veiled in secrecy. One clue that keeps me hot on the trail is a picture from 1935 - just after prohibition. My great aunt and uncle (brother and sister) sitting on the hoods of their matching brand new cars. By legal profession, he was a farmer, and she was a domestic servant in Cincinnati. During the depression, this was a highly unusual purchase for their legal circumstances. 1935 was during the time when Remus was trying to rebuild his liquor empire - with the Falmouth/German connection, did they know the Watson family and work for Remus? I highly doubt it - but Remus was known for a complex network of "connections" to supply his inventory - and he was well known for paying them quite handsomely. I guess I have some more research to do!

Wedding Déjà vu? Sort of....

Among the photographic heirlooms passed down from my Great Grandmother Nellie Cox Beyersdoerfer is this wedding portrait of my Great Great Aunt, Ada Beyersdoerfer Mueller. The first time I opened its folded enclosure I giggled - a lot. Despite the beautiful details in the photo's clarity, that veil looks like a lace monster that completely swallowed her head!

Beyond the giggle factor, I really do love this photo for its family historic purpose and beauty. As a farming family of little wealth, this formal portrait is the only one we have from the Beyersdoerfer side. Despite the birth of many girls, I haven't seen any other wedding portraits. (For those of you keeping track, Ada was Anna's sister from the Looking at Anna post)

As a special treat, a few years ago as I was studying the photo closer, I looked behind it, and found the wedding invitation perfectly preserved behind the happy couple!

The invitation reads:

Mr. and Mrs. John Beyersdoerfer request the honor of your presence at the marriage of their daughter Ada to Mr. Henry E. Mueller. Wednesday, the Twenty-seventh of September, nineteen hundred and twenty-two at eight o'clock A.M. St. Boniface Church, Northside, Cincinnati, O.

I grew up in Cincinnati, over on the west side, well above Northside geographically, but travelled through that city often on my backroads way to the University of Cincinnati as a college student. I had never seen this church from the main road down the center of town, but it was always on my radar to hunt down someday. When our family moved to Kentucky about 15 years ago, I still had this church on my to-do list, but it was far down the list, and I honestly doubted if I would ever get around to it.....until....

One of my younger cousins on my Dad's side of the family, still in Cincinnati, chose this same church as his wedding site just a few weeks ago. When I read where the wedding was to take place, I was thrilled! For the privacy of the living, I will not name names, but I will include some photos from my attendance....it turned out to be a stunningly beautiful church inside!! To attend the wedding of a cousin from Dad's side, while trying to imagine the 1922 wedding of an aunt from my Mom's side.....quite the Déjà vu moment!

Ok, that's sort of how it happened.....here's a tip....make sure you research places BEFORE you attend the events! I was wallowing in that family history moment, "documenting" the past and present with loads of photos. The photos were of course valuable for documenting the current family event, but after returning home, I remembered a conversation my Mother and I had while I was snapping photos outside.....we both thought the building didn't look too old....perhaps turn of the 20th century, but no older. So a quick Google search brought me to the official church website.

Turns out, the congregation dates back to 1853, but after several buildings, the current building dates from 1927. Ironically, my Mueller relatives got married the year after the congregation purchased this land in 1921 on the corner of Chase and Pitts Avenues, but they must have held their ceremony at the former building at the corners of Blue Rock and Lakerman Sts since this newer building was not yet constructed. Which means, I still need to go traipsing through Northside again to see if that older building still exists, so it returns to my to-do list.

As a post script of sorts, I was reading the church's official history, and it turned out to be more significant than I realized. Apparently, the first congregation was begun to accommodate the influx of Irish immigrants that were filling the surrounding Cincinnati areas very quickly. When the influx of German Catholics rapidly rose to match the numbers of local Irish Catholics, the congregation decided to split - ethnically. The Irish congregants split off to form St. Patricks and the Germans stayed to maintain St. Boniface. Which, of course, fits my German lineage on Mom's side.....the Mueller/Beyersdoerfer clan was part of the German half that kept St. Boniface. Ironically, the two halves that split reunited in 1991 under the St. Boniface parish due to dwindling numbers in both groups. That link above to the history of St. Boniface has a great slide show from the early days at the bottom of the page.

So, without further ado, here are some photos of the current St. Boniface church built in 1927:

Happy Sepia Saturday!

CD

11/20/10

Sepia Saturday - Looking at Anna

By all genealogical accounts, Anna Beyersdoerfer runs a high risk of becoming invisible to history. Known as the maiden aunt of our family, there are no pictures of her in a wedding dress, nor any of her holding babies. She had no descendants, and therefore, very few people to remember her. We have a few pictures of her, but none or next to none within the larger family gatherings. Anna seems to stand alone in artifact as well as she did in life. However, Anna recently made a grand showing that has piqued my interest in this very independent woman.

Born to John and Emma (Fliehmann) Beyersdoerfer in 1901, Anna was the youngest daughter of nine children. Her parents had a farm in Bracken County Kentucky, near the small town of Foster, which sits on the Ohio River. Both sets of grandparents, the Beyersdoerfers and Fliehmanns had large farms overlooking the river. Her family's small farm was tucked down in a valley known as Willow Creek. The steep hills of northern Kentucky meant a pretty challenging farm life, but her parents tapped into their German heritage and produced wine to sell in Covington as a supplement to their income.

According to census records, most of the children stayed on the farm to help well into their twenties. Marriage was usually the impetus to move on and begin a life for themselves, but when marriage did not appear as an option for Anna, she moved forward on her own, opting for life in the big city of Cincinnati Ohio. Her brother Lawrence and his family lived in Cincinnati as well, so she was not completely alone. However, she did not live with her relatives, but took a job as a domestic servant.

By 1930 she was residing in the home of Walter and Francis Klein up near Clifton. This couple apparently had no children and she was the only servant in their household. At the time, she was 28, and the Kleins were 44 and 38. Hardly elderly, this merchant couple also piques my interest. They must have had a decent size home to have a servant during the depression, yet, not a house full of servants, which demonstrated either a sense of modesty, or frugality in tough times. But at such a young age, with no children to care for, I can't help but wonder if they had a more exciting social life.

Skipping ahead to her death in 1988, we knew Anna had been a nurse most of her life. By 1951, she was listed in the city directory as a "nurses aide" at Bethesda Hospital. My mother visited her shortly before her death in Newport Kentucky, and she had a sharp, clear mind. She gave my mother details about the family history that we had never heard before. She included maiden names, burial locations, married names, etc. As an evident keeper of the past, her information turned out to be priceless as I began my own journey into our family history a few years later.

However, it is the time frame between about 1920 and 1951 that has set off my detective radar. An independent woman of the 1920s and 30s was not a common thing. Spinsters were, of course, fairly common, but Anna somehow did not fit that mold.

A few years ago, due to my main Journeys Past web site, a relative by marriage learned of my existence, and decided to send me some family artifacts they had in their possession. They were the family of Anna's brother Myron's wife. Ok, try to un-cross your eyes on that one! Anna's brother Myron married rather late in life to a woman names Eleanor, but they had no children. After Eleanor's death, her family found some items that belonged to Myron and they decided to graciously return the items to our family. After checking with the other Beyersdoerfer men, they unanimously chose me to be the recipient since they weren't all that interested in the family history - definitely a perk to being known as the family historian! I plan to write a piece about Myron soon, because his artifacts included some things from his service in WWII, and one picture in particular that had me up in the stacks of the library researching campaign locations....so stay tuned for that one.

Among Myron's things, was a photo of him and his sister Anna sitting on the front of matching cars. I could tell the cars were sitting at the farm on Willow Creek, and the back of the photo said "Myron & Anna, Brother & Sister, with our new cars, Ford bought same year, Richie Brothers auto Dealers took it." According to the license plates, the year was 1935, and both brother and sister look rather dapper in their fancy outfits and brand new cars. After a few minutes of awwing over this awesome photo, it suddenly hit me that Aunt Anna was a single woman in 1935. How could a single domestic servant make enough money to purchase a brand new car during thos tough economic times? I'm assuming Myron was still on the farm since family reports says he even lived there as long as Grandma Emma was still alive. But then, those don't exactly look like farmer duds. Interesting, since he would have been about 28 while she would have been about 33.

I'm not positive that Anna was with the Kliens in 1940, but in that year's city directory, Anna was still listed as a "maid", and living either in her own place, or in another family's household. Her new address was 2831 Vernon Place, which was in the same general Clifton area as her 1930 residence on Alaska Avenue with the Kleins. So needless to say, in 1935, she was still a domestic servant, and obviously a well paid one. I can't help but think there may be more to her story than she is telling us, but conjecture will only go so far until it reaches my frontal conspiratorial romanticized lobes, and loses all sense of reality.....so I will speculate no more.

Since researching her paper trail only created more questions, I started looking for more pictures of Anna. As I stated before, I'm having a really hard time finding her in the family group photos, but I did find a few more of her with two different men. Both men were from the area and about her age, but both went on to marry other women. I cannot say for certain that they were love interests, but in one photo from May of 1926, the two are sitting very close together and she is holding a small bouquet of flowers. She is obviously fairly young in the photos, no more than her twenties, but usually with that trademark tilt of her head and wry smile. I get the feeling I would have gotten along very well with the young Anna. I sense she had a tremendous amount of spunk and independence......or perhaps spunk and the determination to work hard enough to forget a broken heart? Sorry, couldn't help that one.

Even though I cannot remember meeting "Aunt Annie", as the younger generation called her, I remember her estate dispersal. We were allowed into a storage room full of shelves that were loaded with odds and ends. Her life was scattered about the room in the form of tangible objects. If she could have been there, what stories could she have told us about each item? Were there family artifacts there that were rendered silent as we passed by and therefore left to be sold to a stranger? My mother tried to locate things she thought looked old enough to be from the family. She picked up a depression era pink cherry blossom glass bowl, and a single glass goblet with bubbles in it. Several people in the room passed by a very large portrait that leaned against the shelves, until my mother recognized the face....it was Anna's mother, Emma Fliehmann Beyersdoerfer. Mom quickly brought it to the attention of my Grandmother (Anna's niece) Frieda, and they quickly saved Grandma Emma's portrait from the auction block. Reflecting back on the things we don't know about Anna, were there mementos among the possessions that spoke of lost or unrequited love? Sadly, or maybe appropriately, that remains Anna's secret.

CD

6/12/10

This is my first Sepia Saturday post - week #27! To join the fun, click here.