Valley residents climb family trees

Lynn Ross says he won't stop searching for his roots until he discovers Adam's last name was Ross.

Ross of Cheswick is among Valley folks who have spent thousands of hours researching family trees, hoping to learn about their ancestors.

Ross says when he was a child, his grandmother shared recollections of the past with him. Later, after he was married, he found a note pad on which she had written the names of Ross family members and where they lived in the Valley. Thus, he began his journey into the past.

"I came across that little piece of paper, and all hell broke loose. I was lucky. From her records and from Carnegie Library, I learned Rosses owned thousands of acres in the New Kensington and Lower Burrell area," he says.

He found an ancestor who rubbed elbows with the first president. "My third great-grandfather, John Ross, married Mary Cochran, and her father, John, was a bodyguard to Washington," Ross adds.

He also learned Annie Plumer, who married Josiah Ross, a grandson of John Ross, had an eighth great-grandfather who was a miller in Massachusetts. "He and his son started a milling business which evolved into Nabisco — and his neighbor was a Pillsbury," he says, noting the irony.

Annie Plumer had other remarkable forbears, as well. "Her fourth great-grandfather, George Plumer, was the first white child born west of the Alleghenies. And Johnathon Plumer, her fifth great-grandfather, was the second person to enter smoldering Fort Duquesne after General Forbes in 1759," Ross says.

Ross says he has been able to trace the Ross line to 1750, and one Ross line through marriage to Charlemagne (Charles the Great), who ruled the Holy Roman Empire from 800-814.

On his mother's side of the family — Minor — he learned forebears were Cherokee and Mulungeon. "They are called the "mystery race,' " he says. "Studies are being done to trace their origins with DNA. They lived in eastern Tennessee. Most people have never heard of Mulungeons. Some people think they are the lost tribe of Israel, descendants of DeSoto or Portuguese Indians."

His mother's Tennessee family was colorful. "Some were gunfighters. They went to Boise, Idaho, and had a shootout with a sheriff and his deputies.

"My father's family founded churches, and my mother's side shot 'em up — "If you don't go to church, I'll shoot you,'" Ross says, laughing.

His search has become a labor of love. "It's a never-ending process, and it's addictive. I started in 1977, but when I was laid off this year, from January to March, I did nothing but this.

"I have 1,900 pages of information, which I will get hardbound into two issues for my daughter. It has pictures and everything. It is written like a narrative," Ross says.

Some research was difficult. Through the Internet, he was able to get back to Charlemagne, but he notes documentation is difficult. "There are some gray areas, but they always will remain gray areas. When people moved back then, there were no records. You are luckier if your family came here recently.

"It is interesting to know who your people were and where they came from. It becomes an obsession. If you can tie yourself to royalty, you probably could take yourself back to Adam," Ross says.

Betty Smail of Gilpin can't trace her family to Adam, but she is able to call Amelia Earhart a seventh cousin on her father's side.

Smail says she did not do the research but is deeply interested in her family history and, as a child, was fascinated with hearing about her ancestors from Germany and Scotland on her father's side. Her mother's family — Sheehan — have roots in Ireland, emigrating to America during the potato famine of 1845 to 1847.

"Learning your family history gives you a sense of where you belong and where you fit in in this country and that you belong here, too, that these people paved the way for you.

"I have no proof of this, but I feel my ancestors fought a battle here and there so I could live in a relatively safe environment, to make my life as comfortable and safe as possible.

"I belong here, because these people who came before me made this country what it is and fought the battles," she says.

"Even Amelia — that's someone in my roots who was the adventurous type. She was courageous and explored and tried to do something. Of course, she failed, but at least she tried," Smail says.

Joseph Holmes, 45, of Brackenridge found distinguished ancestors when he delved into his past.

"I started in 1989. I was curious to know who my ancestors were, where my roots were and the countries that they came from. I was able to go back to 1762 on one side and on my mother's side back to the 1500s," he says.

Holmes gathered information from family members and found the Internet helpful, but most useful was information he culled from the Family History Library in Greentree.

Among things he learned was that he is a sixth cousin twice removed of President Dwight Eisenhower. "That was a real surprise. I have all the documentation, the proof," he says.

He also learned that on his father's side, his great-great-grandfather and three of his brothers served in the Civil War, and one survived Andersonville prison.

He admits: "I used to spend every spare moment doing research, my days off, after work. It becomes an obsession. I used to dream about my history and what I would do the next day. I loved history in school," he says, noting searching for his roots is just an extension of that.

"I will continue to do this, for sure. I've covered a lot of ground, but I'll never be finished," he says.

He admits, however, he has reached a stumbling block. He got back to his great-great-great-grandmother in England, whereupon he learned there are thousands of people there named Holmes.

Dawn Hughes of West Deer has managed to go back to 1724 on her maternal side of the family and 1782 on her paternal side since she began her genealogy project three years ago.

"I started this because I didn't know much about my history," she says, noting she became so involved other members of the family also became interested. She wanted to have information complete before attending a family reunion in July.

From a 1993 drawing of the family tree, she began researching her background by talking with relatives. When she hit a brick wall, she turned to the Internet. A cousin helped by searching court and church records.

She learned her great-great-great-great-great-grandfather, Jacob Greenwalt, fought in the Civil War and even had a book written about him.

Now, she has gone about as far as possible, she says. "People changed or shortened their names, which makes it really hard," she says, noting in some cases in Europe after a family had 10 children, they would give their newborns away because they were unable to care for them.

"And, if you came over on a boat and were younger than 10 or 12, you were considered nonexistent and were not entered as a passenger. I think we've gotten as far as we're going to get," she says.

She admits the experience is intoxicating and addictive. "I was really into it three years ago, then after what happened in September, I realized if something happened, the kids won't know about their past or who to go to for information, so I sent out questionnaires and newsletters so it will be in a book. And I'm having a lot of fun," Hughes says.

Marie McGee Painter of Harrison always loved hearing her grandmothers tell stories about the past, but, sometimes, they were reluctant to answer her questions. As she got older, she began jotting down bits of information she learned. And, when her family was gone, she began writing and calling relatives in England, Scotland and Canada.

"The McGee side, my dad's side, are not talkers. When I corresponded with people in Scotland, I found out that my great-great-great-grandfather and Robert Burns were cousins. It was very interesting to learn that," she says.

She has traced her family to the Covenanters who protested during the reign of James I of England. She also discovered she was related to royalty. Lady Elizabeth Colquehoun had the temerity to run off with the family gardener, Robert Patterson, and was disowned by her family.

All this means a lot to Painter, but she stands alone. "None of my family is interested in this at all. I like to live history. I really delved into it. I have gone back to at least the 1500s. I've done all the work. I've kept the post office in business for years," she says.

All her work has culminated in a family history book. "I just loved doing it. I have macular degeneration, but I'm still typing out stories. I love writing stories. This is a good pursuit. If I were not doing something like this, I'd have gone bananas. It gets to you — it's kept my brain going," Painter says.

Marietta Closson of Washington Township says she and her husband, Bob, began researching their roots in 1972.

They became so engrossed with their project they turned their "habit" into a business printing genealogies and publishing reference materials, Closson Press.

The problem, she says: "We are so busy doing everybody else's, we have no time to do a book of our own."

She has discovered interesting tidbits about her family, however. "One of my relatives served in the War of Liberation with Napoleon, and some of my relatives served in the Civil War on the side of the Confederacy," Closson says, noting her family hails from South Carolina.

They also learned her husband's great-great-grandfather served in the Civil War and is buried in Arlington Cemetery near the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. His great-great uncle, a Union surgeon, did the first successful limb amputation during the Civil War.

"We didn't find any famous people and no outlaws," she says. They did learn one of Bob Closson's grandfathers in the 1700s was offered the option of going to prison or migrating to America. "They were very poor, and he stole a loaf of bread to feed his family," she says.

She found researching her Fowler family history enjoyable. "To me, just putting the family together is exciting. I learned they were honest, hard-working people. That's the good background I came from.

"It does get to be an addiction, but it's one of the best you can have. It makes people feel like they belong. It's a labor of love. I wish everybody could do it," Closson says.