The Landrigan Puzzle, Part 1: The Hunt for Kathryn Hunter

Elusive Ancestors: The Hunt for Kathryn Hunter

In 1976, at the age of 81, my great-grandmother died. Her name was Kathryn Hunter Voke, and she left behind an array of conflicting facts, a mysterious past, and some very confused children.

"Papa Nana" (as she was called) was born April Fools Day 1895 in Baltimore, Maryland. Of course, according to her sister, the family was from Winthrop, Massachusetts. She apparently loved to tell stories, yet a family historian, this made things difficult for me - my grandfather truly had no clue where his mother was from. When asked about his grandparents, he would tell me all about his grandfather's days on the railroad, how they were cut short in the 1918 influenza epidemic, and how his wife, Catherine Spalding, had died shortly thereafter. His name was John Hunter, and much to my surprise, the Vokes had kept his picture in the basement for almost 100 years.

John J. Hunter, ca. 1898
The only Hunter family picture
prior to the 1930s.

Kathryn Alicia Hunter of Baltimore turned up no results. All my family knew was the two younger Hunter sisters - Sister Mary Evelyn and Sister Ann - who had both entered a convent in their early lives. My cousin Eddie threw in another child, James Louis Hunter, who died at a young age. It was thanks to these ladies that I made my first discovery: the 1910 census from Massachusetts with three girls named "Hunter" listed in a Dorchester orphanage, all of them born in Massachusetts. At just 16, Catherine was the oldest, followed by Evelyn G. Hunter, and then Mildred, born ca. 1899. I had long hoped to find extended family full of warm feelings and southern hospitality, yet for three girls in a Boston orphanage, this notion seemed unlikely.

Hunter girls, 1910 Federal Census

A phone call to my grandfather confirmed these names - the second sister became "Mary Evelyn" as there had already been a Sister Evelyn in that convent, and Mildred became "Sister Ann" due to her dislike of the name Mildred. It was still possible that this wasn't the family, as Hunter was such a common name, yet the likelihood increased with each repressed story the various Voke cousins told me. As it turns out, Papa Nana was born in Winthrop, she had been in an orphanage at one point, and the Sister's of Charity - not family connections - had brought the girls down to Baltimore. The icing on the cake came in the form of the 1900 Federal Census:

1900 Federal Census, Winthrop, MA

This seemed to answer a lot of questions. I eventually discovered the Massachusetts State Archives (this was a long time ago), and from there I found the death of John Hunter in 1899, Catherine (Landrigan) Hunter in 1906, and the birth record for Katherine Alice Hunter on April 1, 1895. Her marriage to Edward J. Voke had listed these facts as well, and with the examination of guardianship documents, I was no longer skeptical. It appears that, after 100 years, we had finally found Catherine Hunter, and while the truth may not have been pretty, it was nice to finally know the facts about somebody so revered by her descendants.

In reality, Kathryn Hunter's early life had been one of extreme sadness, or so I would imagine. Her father died a horribly painful death at a young age (according to his obituary in the local paper), and after seven years of a stretched income, she became an orphan at age ten. Despite having seven aunts and uncles, a grandmother and various other relatives in the area, she found herself in St. Vincent's Orphan Asylum for the destitute, left with the responsibility of two younger sisters. She spent her 18th birthday petitioning for guardianship of Evelyn and Mildred. All three girls joined the convent - though, evidently, my great-grandmother left at some point in the 1910s. My mom said that Papa Nana was always rather closed about her emotions, and any mentions of family besides the two Sisters were few and far between. People often mention how difficult life was for our ancestors - I can't even imagine the suffering Kathryn Hunter endured, not only in childhood, but also the many years to come. My great-grandfather, Edward Voke, was a largely respected man in the area, and keeping up with the high-society life was likely very difficult for a woman with such a haunting past.

My grandfather died knowing nothing about his mother's true life, though he died two years after I made my initial discoveries. In this case, the truth was better left unsaid...

Story behind the picture: Philip Abrams and family

The Abrams family, ca. 1902

I first started working on my genealogy three years ago this summer. I had set out to answer so many questions, yet one came first and foremost: what happened to my grandmother's grandfather?

His name was Philip Abrams, and the last time anyone had heard from him was 1911. I am lucky in a sense: I still have my grandmother to answer questions, and being the sharp-as-a-tack lady she is (our surname is Needle, after all) she can generally answer any questions I ask her about the family. Yet Philip Abrams remained a mystery. The story always went that he left, and the responsibility to be "man of the house" was left to my great-grandfather, Samuel Abrams. On top of all this, his mother, Sara Holmes Abrams, was a "shrew", and three of the six children would eventually leave her. Thus, my great-grandfather left home in 1914 to go to war in England, and he never saw his father again.

I had a few clues to work with. First off, my granduncle David was born in 1935, and he was named for Philip: those familiar with Judaism know that one cannot be named after a living person. I had a certain inkling that Philip had died prior to this point, as my great-grandparents wouldn't have defied Jewish custom and named a child after a living person. 

My second clue came in a more corporeal form: my great-grandaunt Ruth Abrams, the wife of Philip's youngest son, George. Ruth was much younger than her husband, and he was the youngest of all six children, thus I was provided with a unique opportunity. Ruth also happened to be one of the kindest and most helpful people I have ever met: she immediately mailed me documents and pictures, including a marriage certificate that was issued "January 22, 1922". I hadn't a clue why anyone would have needed a marriage certificate at this point, especially since the marriage had occurred in the 1890s: it was that of Philip and Sara Abrams. I assumed that the death was near this point, and that the marriage certificate was issued for proving kinship upon a death. I checked with the Norfolk County Probate court, but all I found was a bitter 1913 abandonment case entitled "Abrams v. Abrams" in which Philip could not be located.

Clue number three was the most evident, yet took me a while to uncover - Randolph, MA city directories. The listings began calling my great-great grandmother "Sara Abrams, wid. Philip" in 1922. This was the icing on my familial cake. Philip Abrams most likely died around 1921-1922, and in what seemed like a stab in the dark, I found him.

Philip Abrams grave, Riverside Cemetery, NJ

Philip died December 29, 1921 in Manhattan. It's been 89 years since my grandmother's grandfather died, and any hope of learning more about this mysterious progenitor is long gone. Yet there was still one thing I needed to find: I wanted to know what Philip Abrams, a man who had graced my thoughts for so long, looked like. Nobody in my family had ever known him, and as far as my grandmother knew, there was only one picture that had been lost for years. Nonetheless, on my birthday last year (which has always been located conveniently at the end of the spring-cleaning season) I was given the best gift I could have imagined: the subject of this post.

Welcome!

Hello all,

My primary intent with this blog is to keep a "journal" of my family history and my journey in finding my roots. However, to hit two birds with one stone, I figure that I might as well put these things online - after all, we are in the internet age, and there's always that possibility that someone will have a connection worth sharing.

Please enjoy my ramblings. Don't hesitate to comment with suggestions or comments of any kind!

Nathan