Disappeared - Where did they go?

Some people just disappear without a trace. My Pogue line is filled with mysteries and disappearances.

Oliver Isabel Pogue (1910-1959) was my great-grandmother. Her life is reasonably well documented, although I might have missed a husband. (She was married at least three times.) But things start to get murkier with her father.

Josiah Pogue (1848-1900) had many names: Cyrus, Silas, Si, Cy, Joe, and Josirus. All are variations, and one can understand how these names evolve. In 1850, two-year-old Josiah was living with his parents in Franklin County, Illinois. They are enumerated as Jas and Nancy Pouge. He has three older siblings: Wm. R., age 10, and Geo. W. age 7 and L.E. age 3, who was the only girl. (1)

And then James and Nancy Pogue disappear. In 1860, Josiah, then 12, was living with John M Foster, his wife, Sarah, and their five children. (2) John and Sarah had lived next door to the Pogues in 1850. 

But in 1870, Josiah vanishes. No record has been found of him. As a matter of fact, several neighbors appear to be missing, so it's likely their little hollow was just missed in the enumerators' trek.

In 1880, Josirus, now aged 23, is living with William Foster and his wife. William was the son of the above John Foster, and Josirus is listed as a cousin. (3) So was there a relationship? In 1886, John Foster, who is a minister, married Josiah Pogue and Mahala McClerren.(4) 

So what happened to Josiah's parents? His father James, has always been a bit of a mystery. Was he married three times or just two? Wives may have been Nancy Taylor, Lydia Medlin, and Nancy Plaster. James served in the Black Hawk War along with others from Franklin County. (5) He moved around, living in Saline, Gallatin, and Franklin Counties. He appears to have purchased land in Franklin County in 1851. (6) 

So the mystery grows. Later in 1851, there is a court record that I believe is for James. William Foster (not the same William Foster that Josiah lived with in 1880) went to court to state that James Page, father of George W, aged 9, Lyenin aged 7, and Josiah Page, aged 4, "has for six months last past wilfully neglected to provide for his minor children." He was found guilty, and Joseph Swafford was appointed guardian. (7) This record was an abstract, and I haven't yet tracked down the original. But this would indicate that James's wife had died and he was having trouble taking care of the children. 

In April 1852, James sold his land in Franklin County.(8) And that's the last of the records I've found for James Pogue. In 1852, he would have been 45 years old. So where did he go? Did he die? I'm assuming, with no proof, that his wife Nancy had died, perhaps in childbirth, after the 1850 census. 

It is possible that James Pogue had two older sons, likely by one of his first wives, David and James. Their lives are a bit of a mystery. Son William R Pogue moved to Lane County, Oregon, by 1860. (9)  He married, had a family, and died at the age of 80, in the Oregon State Insane Asylum.  (10) 

His son, George W Pogue, isn't found in the 1860 census but enlisted in the Civil War. He was court-martialed for selling bootleg liquor in Vicksburg, Mississippi. After the war, he lived in New Mexico, probably working in a gold mine, then moved to Montana as a miner. (11) By 1910, he was living in Malibu, California, in the Pacific Branch of the National Home for Disabled Volunteer Soldiers.(12) He had a couple of run-ins with the law and eventually ended up in the Leavenworth Soldiers' Home, where he died in 1918. ,(13)

L.E. Pogue is a real mystery. The only female in the family, it's unclear what her name even was. Some say it was Lydia but normal searches have not turned up good candidates. She was three in 1850. Did she die soon after? It appears that she was mentioned in her father's court case in 1851, listed in the abstract as Lyenin.

So where did all these people vanish to? William and George vanished from southern Illinois, but they are both trackable. Josiah is trackable except for 1870. So what happened to the rest of this family? Where did they go? And more importantly, why? These are mysteries that may never be solved.

This week's #52 Ancestors prompt is DISAPPEARED.

(1) 1850 U.S. Federal census, Franklin County, Illinois, population schedule, p. 34b, dwelling 482, family 496, Jas Pouge household; digital image, Ancestry (https://www.ancestry.com/imageviewer/collections/8054/images/4193355-00269: accessed 10 October 2021).

(2) 1860 U.S. Federal census, Franklin County, Illinois, population schedule, Township 7S, Range 4E, p 495, dwelling and family 977, Josiah Pogue in John M. Foster household; digital image, Ancestry (https://www.ancestry.com/discoveryui-content/view/37996966:7667: accessed 20 May 2024).

(3) 1880 U.S. census, Franklin County, Illinois, population schedule, Cave township, e.d. 16, p. 7, dwelling 54, family 54, William A. Foster household; digital image, Ancestry (https://www.ancestry.com/discoveryui-content/view/21070843:6742: accessed 5 April 2023).

(4) “Marriage Records, 1878-1916,” Digital image, FamilySearch (https://www.familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:939J-KM94-N6: accessed 10 October 2024); Franklin County, volume 1, p. 129, License #1617, 1886, Pogue-Striplin marriage. FHL #4661221/1005307, Image 141 of 521. 

(5) Elliott, Isaac H., Record of the Services of Illinois Soldiers in the Black Hawk War 1831-32 and in the Mexican War 1846-48 (Journal Company: Springfield, 1902). P.8-9.

(6) James Pogue (Franklin County) scrip Warrant file, certificate #14503 (1851), Shawneetown, Illinois, Land Office; Issue Date 10 December 1851; digital image, Bureau of Land Management (https://glorecords.blm.gov/details/patent/default.aspx?accession=0604-156&docClass=MW: accessed 10 October 2024).

(7) Pulliam, Carla, comp. Early Court Records, Franklin County, Illinois (Self-published, 1995). V. 1 1836-1876, V 2, 1877-1900. 

(8) “Deed Record: Franklin. Deeds, 1832-1853,” digital image, FamilySearch (https://www.familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:3Q9M-C37S-QS6F-M: accessed 8 October 2024); Volume D, p. 571-572, 1852, James Pouge Deed to Handovus D. Johnson; FSL Film 8571267, Item 3, Image 306 of 324. 

(9) 1860 U.S. census, Lane County, Oregon, population schedule, Springfield Precinct, p. 11[?], sheet 284, dwelling 544, family 544, Sarah Powers household; digital image, Ancestry (https://www.ancestry.com/discoveryui-content/view/43982636:7667: accessed 16 January 2023).

(10) “Oregon, State Deaths, 1864-1968,” digital image, Ancestry (https://www.ancestry.com/discoveryui-content/view/330761:61675: accessed 18 September 2022); entry for Wm R Pogue, Marion County, 7 February 1921.

 

(11) 1870 U.S. census, Colfax County, New Mexico Territory, population schedule, Precinct #1, p. 14, dwelling 246, family 206, George Pogue household; digital image, Ancestry (https://www.ancestry.com/discoveryui-content/view/39418625:7163: accessed 16 January 2023). Also, 1880 U.S. census, Lewis and Clark County, Montana, population schedule, Belmont, page 36, e.d. 19, dwelling 362, family 365, George Pogue in R. Woolcox household; digital image, Ancestry (https://www.ancestry.com/discoveryui-content/view/15221305:6742: accessed 16 January 2023).

(12) 1910 U.S. census, Los Angeles County, California, population schedule, Malibu, e.d. 288, sheet 10b, Family #, Pogue, George W, inmate; digital image, Ancestry (https://www.ancestry.com/discoveryui-content/view/1271263:7884: accessed 4 August 2022).

(13) “Tells the Police Officers What He Thinks of Them,” Evening Vanguard (Venice, CA), 15 June 1914., p.1, col. 3; digital image, newspapers.com (https://www.newspapers.com: accessed 16 January 2023). Also, “U.S., National Homes for Disabled Volunteer Soldiers, 1866-1938,” digital image, Ancestry (https://www.ancestry.com/discoveryui-content/view/17319:1200: accessed 16 January 2023); Registers of Members, Leavenworth, Kansas, #22307, George W. Pogue, admitted 3 October 1908; Citing NARA Series M1749.  For death, “Burial Registers, Military Posts and National Cemeteries, 1862-1960,” digital image, Ancestry (https://www.ancestry.com/discoveryui-content/view/446241:3135: accessed 4 August 2022); Leavenworth National Cemetery. 1918, George W. Pogue; citing The National Cemetery Administration: Leavenworth National Cemetery Death Records, Western Branch N.H.D.V.S. 1808-1929, 1932-1936, Records of the Department of Veterans Affairs, 1773-2007, Record Group 15, NARA.

But What About the Alligator???

 A curious article appeared in the 26 August 1905 Minneapolis Star Tribune. 

“Excelsior,” Star Tribune (Minneapolis), 26 August 1905, p 6, col 1; digital image, newspapers.com (https://www.newspapers.com: accessed 19 January 2021).

Birth and Early Life

Horace Edward Brisbin was sixteen years old when he received this odd gift. Born 3 May 1889 in Excelsior, Minnesota, he and his twin sister Hattie came along seven months after the death of their father, H.E. Brisbin. (1) Their mother, Hattie Sampson, who was widowed just two years into her marriage, was the daughter of Leroy Sampson, owner of the Sampson House. She was just 22 years old when she became the widowed mother of twins.

Horace grew up in Excelsior, attending school there. He graduated from the newly built Excelsior High School and worked at the Sampson House, which was a family business. First known as the Slater House, Leroy Sampson, Horace's grandfather, bought it in 1885 and renamed it. After burning to the ground in 1893, it was rebuilt and reopened in 1895 and continued to operate until 1960. 

The Sampson House was one of the large hotels that were common around Lake Minnetonka in the late 1800s and early 1900s. People from all over the United States (especially the South) would spend their summers in the area. Sampson House had 40 rooms and operated year-round. Entertainment included boating and fishing parties. It was a grand hotel and likely required a good-sized staff to manage it.

1920 - 1930. "Sampson House, Excelsior, Minnesota." Westonka Historical Society, Accessed March 11, 2023. https://collection.mndigital.org/catalog/whs:173.

Marriage and Adult Life

Horace's mother and sister moved to Texas after his mother had remarried. Horace stayed behind. In 1910, he lived with his paternal uncle George Spaulding and worked on the railroad. (2) In 1913, he married Mabel E. Seamans, the daughter of Charles and Ida (Moeschler) Seamans. (3) 

Horace got a job in 1914 as a stock manager and later as a salesman for McDonald Brothers, a wholesale merchandise company. They moved to 3320 Longfellow Avenue, living with Mabel's mother, Ida. The home would remain in the family for many years. 

In about 1923, the family moved to Owasso, Michigan,  where Horace got a job working for J.C. Penney.(4) By 1930, they moved to New Rockford City in Eddy County, North Dakota. (5) The store went bankrupt during the depression, and the family moved back to Minneapolis, again living at 3320 Longfellow. Horace Brisbin died on 5 December 1943 at the age of 89. (6)

But What About the Alligator???? 

    No further mention was found about this "pet." Alligators can live to be 30-50 years old. Did Horace let him go in nearby Lake Minnetonka or Christmas Lake?? Would the alligator have been able to survive a cold Minnesota winter? Was it kept as a pet until it got too big? Or did Horace Brisbin find himself with a smart pair of boots?? We'll likely never know.

This week's #52 Ancestors Prompt was Animals. (And yes, I know alligators are reptiles.)

(1)    “Killed in a Runaway,” Star Tribune (Minneapolis), 1 November 1888, p 5, col 2; image copy, newspapers.com (https://www.newspapers.com: accessed 19 January 2021.

(2)  1910 U.S. census, Hennepin County, Minnesota, population schedule, Minneapolis, Enumeration District (ED) 0124, page 13a, visit #188, Family #279, George B. Spaulding household; digital image, Ancestry (:https://www.ancestry.com/imageviewer/collections/7884/images/31111_4330227-00483: accessed 19 January 2021).

(3)  "Minnesota, County Marriages, 1860-1949", database with images, FamilySearch (https://www.familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:VKNY-BXR: accessed 22 January 2021), entry for Horace E Brisbin and Mabel E Seamans, 1913, Hennepin County, Minnesota.GS Film #1380413, DFN 4540679, image #1013.

(4)  Polk’s Owosso (Michigan) City Directory 1928, including Shiawassee County, R.L. Polk & Co., Publishers, Directory Bldg., Detroit, Michigan. My Heritage. accessed 1/22/2021 

(5)  1930 U.S. census, Eddy County, North Dakota, population schedule, New Rockford, Enumeration District (E.D.) 0012, sheet 5b, dwelling 86, family 86, Horace E. Brisbin household; digital image, Ancestry (https://www.ancestry.com:viewed 19 January 2021).

(6) "Minnesota Deaths, 1887-2001," database, FamilySearch (https://www.familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:Z82T-DF2M: accessed 22 January 2021), entry for Horace Edward Brisbin, 5 Dec 1943; citing Death, Minnesota State Department of Health, St. Paul. No image.

Off to School -- but the Russians are coming!!

Starting kindergarten in 1956, I found myself in the middle of the Cold War. I don't remember talking much about current events in school, and we certainly had no understanding of the Cold War. We received the Weekly Reader, which covered some current events on a high level, and we were vaguely aware of "the Russians." But we were taught to fear them. 

There was always the chance that "the Russians" would bomb us. So we practiced 'duck and cover' exercises. At a pre-arranged time, we were signaled to 'duck and cover.' There were two ways we did this. In some classes, we would get under our desks and cover our heads. In other classes, we would go out into the hallway, back to the wall, crouch down, and cover our heads. We were told to especially cover our eyes to avoid seeing the "flash." I'm not sure we ever knew what the flash was. All this was especially difficult for the girls - there was no such thing as wearing slacks in those days -- we were always in dresses. 

Of course, as we learned later, 'duck and cover' wouldn't have protected us from a real nuclear bomb if it had fallen on us. I'm not sure if people initially thought this was some kind of protection or if they just wanted to scare us. 

These drills were scary at first, but they eventually just became routine and a way to avoid classes. I don't remember when the drills stopped, but it was likely sometime in the early 1960s. But a whole generation of kids remembers these drills and our fear of "the Russians." 

This week's #52Ancestors prompt is Off to School.