Week 4 - Overlooked

Note: As we make ready to celebrate our nation's 250th anniversary in 2026, I plan to incorporate as many stories about the Revolutionary Patriots in my family tree as possible. The following is about my fifth great-grandfather. He's already been mentioned in week 1, but he is worthy of mention again.

I'm pretty sure that everyone reading this could spout off at least a few names of the movers and shakers of the American Revolution. Even those of you who aren't in DAR or SAR, or those not interested in the least bit about history, know these names - George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, John Hancock, John and Samuel Adams, Benjamin Franklin. These are just a few of our founding fathers. Each of these men served during the earliest days of our nation - as delegates to Continental Congress held in Philadelphia. Before you met me, had you ever heard of Michael Hillegas?

While Michael Hillegas did not serve as a delegate, he was there. On July 29, 1775, Michael and fellow patriot George Clymer were elected to share the office of the Treasurer of the United Colonies. When the Declaration of Independence was written, Michael Hillegas edited the document before it was signed, therefore it was George Clymer (as Treasurer) whose signature was included on the document. Shortly thereafter, on August 6, 1776, George Clymer resigned as co-treasurer to serve as a delegate, leaving Michael Hillegas, alone, to serve as Treasurer of the United States. He held this office until Congress created the Department of the Treasury on September 11, 1789, and Alexander Hamilton became the Secretary of the Treasury, for more than fourteen years.

Michael Hillegas was a native-born Philadelphian. His father, also Michael, immigrated from Germany prior to 1724 and became a successful merchant dealing in both the iron and sugar industries. Michael Sr. wanted to ensure that his son had the knowledge to carry on the family business, so Michael was given the best educational advantages through parochial schools and academies, as well as at his father's side. The estate of Michael Sr. was apparently massive, as it required an administrators bond of 40,000 pounds, which would equate to $50,000 at that time (1749).

In the words of Rev. Michael Reed Minnich, when writing about Michael Hillegas, "Possessed of ample means, his devotion to the interest of his country stamps him as a pure patriot. He early took an active interest in political affairs." Michael was appointed as one of the commissions to erect a fort for the protection of Philadelphia (Fort Mifflin). Then from 1765-1775, he was a member of the Pennsylvania Provincial Assembly, where he served as treasurer. During that same time, he was a member of the Board of Commissioners to improve navigation of the Delaware River. In 1774, he was a member of the Committee of Observation of Philadelphia and in 1775, a member of the Pennsylvania Committee of Safety. It was at that time his duties as Treasurer began.

There is no question that Michael Hillegas generously gave to the cause of independence. There are numerous transactions in the Treasury accounts recording money he gave or advanced his own funds. In 1780, a "subscription" was started where the signers pledged their property and credit to form a bank for furnishing a supply of provisions to the United State Army. Michael Hillegas was one of the first subscribers which resulted in the Pennsylvania Bank. His service was not only comprised of finance. A muster roll of the 7th Company, 3d Battalion, Philadelphia City Militia shows that Michael enrolled as a member of Captain Andrew Geyer's Company. Although he was reported as delinquent in 1782, his absence was noted due tot his duties as Treasurer of the United States.

Michael Hillegas' obscurity in the history of our nation remained almost completely overlooked until the 1890s when some of his descendants petitioned the government for his inclusion, with the aid of Rev. Minnich who penned, "A Memoir of the First Treasurer of the United States" in 1905.

Several exceprts from Reverend Minnich's book -

"Michael Hillegas, under the several titles of Provincial, Continental and United States Treasurer, performed the duties of an office that required the greatest possible skill, method and integrity, and faithfully and commendably executed the trust during the first fourteen years of the life of the United State of America. That no public recognition has been made in commemoration of such patriot, long-continued, faithful execution of a trust of so great responsibility by the city of his birth, his education, his service and his death is a perversion of civic instincts."

"The time is at hand when no history of the United States will be considered complete without mention of the service of this patriot. The force of this statement is augmented when the liberal contribution of money he made by gift and loan to the support of the army during the struggle for independence are recalled."

"During the crucial part of this nation's life and the formative period of its organizations, when the services of a patriot more than a politician were required, the steady hand of Hillegas at the helm kept the finances of the Ship of State within control."

"The failure to place the portrait of Michael Hillegas, the first treasurer of the United States, upon the paper currency of the Country or to give him other fitting recognition, is an illustration of the official and historical neglect that has persistently followed this genleman."

In 1907, and again in 1922, the Department of the Treasury finally placed the portrait of Michael Hillegas on the $10 gold certificates.

To read Rev. Minnich's book in its entirety - visit the Library of Congress website:

https://www.loc.gov/item/05032453/

 Week 3 - Nickname

The only nickname that I can recall among my ancestors was my great-uncle "Buzz" Pennington. I'd never heard his given name and when I started researching my family tree, I thought I'd found a long lost relative named Elmer Eddie. My grandparents were all either Grandma <insert last name here> and Grandpa <insert last name here>. My parents were the first who were given nicknames by the grandkids - they became Mimi and Pawpaw. Within the current generation of grandparents, my sister is "Bobo", my brother is "BumBum", my husband is "PapPaw". We have friends who are "Grumpy", "Honey", "Mumzy" and "Ninier" to their broods. When my oldest grandson was around two, and visiting my un-childproofed home, he headed to an electrical outlet with a screwdriver in his hand. I yelled out a cross between, "Move!" and "No!" which came out - MOE! He froze, turned around, and laughed as only a two-year-old can. I have been Moe ever since. My husband and my own children call me Moe exclusively, except for my youngest daughter who I do something she deems out of line. Then it's "MOTHER!"

I have always known that my great-grandmother's name was Malora Jane. Where or when this information came to me was long before I began researching my family tree. I knew it just as well as I knew my parents and grandparents' given names. My sister, on the other hand, will adamantly refute this. According to her (and she has enlisted the support of a cousin), our great-grandmother's name was simply "Lora". Both my sister and this cousin knew Malora/Lora personally, so there is no evidence presented to them that they would believe. I simply cannot get them to listen to my side and I feel stupid even bringing it up, but the fact it has become such a bone of contention between us is reason enough for me to write about it. I will let you draw your own conclusion, and I beg your forgiveness in advance for dragging you into this ridculous battle of wills.

Malora Jane Ayers

There are numerous documents in defense of my sister's claim. The Great State of Oklahoma shows Lora as our great-grandmother's first name on her death certificate. Her own daughter, Myrtle, provided this information. Myrtle surely knew her own mother's name, right? When my own mother died, I gave the information for her death certificate, and there was no question I knew her name. Legal documents from a civil suit brought against the estate of my great-grandfather listed his wife as Lora. Even the Social Security Administration shows her name as Lora on her initial application, as well as the Social Security Death Index. These are all official documents, at both the state and federal levels. Certainly, they cannot all be in error.

The Hydro Review, a local newspaper in the area where Malora lived, has countless articles and mentions of her throughout the, almost fifty years, of residence. Each time, her name is Lora. All the way back to 1890, in Habersham County, Georgia when she married my great-grandfather, her name was denoted as Lora J. Ayers. In each census from 1900 through 1940, she is enumerated as Lora, Lora J., or Lora Jane. It is apparent she did not like the name Malora and chose to shorten as soon as she could.

Nonetheless, her name at birth was Malora Jane. So, how do I know this?

In many families, names are sometimes passed down. To me, this is one of the greatest ways to honor and remember those who have gone before us. I have generation upon generation of my family where the name "Henrietta" has been given to descendants in multiple lines of one branch. Although I didn't know Malora Jane (she died before I was born), from what I hear, she was very kind and loving. This may well be the reason that her youngest son named his daughter after her.

Malora Jane was also the name of my first cousin, once removed. This Malora went by Jane or Janie her entire life. She didn't care for the name Malora any more than my great-grandmother - and she told me so. Throughout my life, however, I knew her and her full name. There has never been a doubt to how she came to have it.

Malora Jane II

Whatever name you use during your lifetime may or may not be the one you were given at birth. Whoever gives the information your death certificate may only provide what they believe to be true, regardless of whether it is. Birth certificates, while not required when Malora Jane was born, are considered a primary source. With few exceptions, one of your parents gave the recorder the name they chose for you. There is no doubt that this is the name you were born with. But still, in practically all written record, Lora was the only name ever used for my great-grandmother...except one.

The census is captured every ten years. In the years from 1900 through 1940, Lora or her husband probably gave the census taker any information he recorded. The only other census year where my great-grandmother was listed was in the 1880 census from Center Hill, Habersham County, Georgia. This information was most likely provided by one of her parents. Much like a birth certificate, they gave the name they had bestowed on her at birth. Line 28 of page 39 - Malora, female, age 6.

Malora? Or Lora? You be the judge...

 Week 2 - Favorite Photo

I am one of the fortunate few who inherited most all the photos that my parents and grandparents (on both sides) had collected over their lifetimes. A few of the original photographs I have are more than 150 years old. I know who sat for each of these photos, in most cases, but a few have escaped identification. Nonetheless, I keep them safe, and they've all been scanned. For Christmas this year, to divest myself of a ton of photos of my own descendants, I presented each of them with a box containing all those memories from their own childhoods. Photos are memories on paper and it was fun going through them all. It's incredibly difficult to pick just a single "favorite" photo, but for the purpose of this week's topic, I present you with this one.

This particular photo is 113 years old. It has meaning to me, as the lady on the right is my grandmother, Henrietta Anthony Patton. Henrietta was born in 1890 in Hannibal, Missouri. Her father, David Williamson Patton, was born in Pennsylvania in 1854, but at some point before 1880, he became employed by the Wabash Railroad and migrated west to Kansas City. In the early 1880's, he was transferred to Hannibal. It was at this time he met and married my great-grandmother, Maria Rosina Neth, the daughter of German immigrants, and they began their family. Their oldest son, William, was born in 1888, followed by my grandmother, then a son and one more daughter. By 1897, another daughter was born in Moberly, Missouri, when the family was transferred for the final time.

I love pictures that tell a story, and there is so much history in this photo, but what does it really say? I'm about to tell you...

Let's first talk about the date it was taken. On the back is 8/25/11. I spent summers in Moberly as a child. If you've ever been there in the summer, there is no doubt in my mind that my grandmother, and her fellow photographed few, must surely be steaming in their elaborate garb. It made me wonder if the date on the back could really be accurate. I decided to do a little investigative weather research and to my surprise, the average lows in Moberly in late August, historically, run in the 60's to low 70's. In 2023, for example, the low on this date was only 57 degrees. If the photo was taken in the morning, it would make perfect sense for the ladies to be wearing a light jacket over their dresses. It also occurred to me that by this time on my summer visits, I would have already been home preparing to start back to school.

What about their clothing (this is one of my favorite parts of this photo)? I remember my grandmother telling me she used to make hats before she married my grandfather, but I'd never seen any proof. In the 1910 census, just the previous year, she is enumerated as a milliner! While I can't be certain, there is a great likelihood that she made the hat she is wearing. On a side note, her maternal grandfather, Peter Neth, was a hatter who brought his craft from Germany, and although I'm pretty sure she never knew him, I wonder if that is where her inspiration came from.

What about Henrietta herself? This is the only photo of her as a young woman. I do have several of her as a child along with her parents and siblings, and a few of her as a wife and mother, but no others at this age. I see her in this photo as being happy and carefree. A young woman with her whole life ahead of her; smiling, almost celebratory in a way. She married my grandfather in 1913, and although they spent fifty years together, they did not have an easy life.

Finally, what about the location? Why would a group be standing on some sort of wagon or railcar in the middle of the train yard? It was certainly Moberly, which was home to the large "Wabash Shop" that my grandfather oversaw. The other folks in the photo were not identified, and I can't discern who they are from other old photos I have. They could be anyone, but surely they were known to my family. I wouldn't think that this location would have been a common spot to pose for a photo. Why would they be there?

If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times - old newspapers are a treasure. After going through my stack of notes, I found a newspaper article related to my great-grandfather. It read, "Moberly Man, Inventor" and went on to tell that he had received a patent, the previous day, on a hot-water injector which he had invented, and that he had received several offers from other railroad companies who wanted to purchase it. The date of the article was August 25, 1911, the same date as the photo.

We've pieced the story of this photo together and while I'll never know who those other three folks are, to see the smile on my grandmother's face is all I need.

 Week 1 - In the Beginning

Whether you believe in a higher power or not, I truly believe that my love for family history and the talent that I have for compiling it is a gift from God. To further defend my statement, my interest in genealogy and family history developed, literally, in an instant.

In the beginning...

My father passed away in April 1998. I had known grief but nothing could compare to losing my dad. I have always been a "Daddy's Little Girl" most likely because I was a tomboy. When I was small, I tinkered right alongside him in the garage, and he taught me all of the handy-man skills that I continue to use most every day. I'm not going to lie and say that our relationship didn't struggle during my rebellious teenage years, but once I outgrew that, dad became my best buddy, my confidante, my sounding board, and in my eyes the seer of all things pertaining to life. Although he had suffered from COPD for several years, his sudden death shook me to my core. In retrospect, this is exactly how he would have wanted to go. He was a strong man, and I know he could never bear to become a burden to anyone.

Shortly after his passing, while going through all the things he'd collected over his eighty-year span, I ran across two old sepia photos that I remembered from my childhood. They resembled George and Martha Washington and from the stories I had been told by my grandmother, they were important and somehow related to me. When I'd last seen them, they were hanging in the home of my great-aunt Naomi and great-uncle Bill. I assume that when they both passed, my grandmother had received them, then they eventually came to my dad. As a very sentimental gal, I decided to take them home.

Up until this time I had never even remotely liked anything old-fashioned. My style wasn't ultra-modern by any definition, but I liked simple, straight lines (which made it easier to clean when my OCD kicked in). In my mind, antiques were old junk that nobody wanted any longer. Nonetheless, I sat down in front of the computer and looked up at the photos. Instantly, the name Michael Hillegas popped into my head.

You likely have never heard this name before, but Michael Hillegas was the first Treasurer of the United States (before Alexander Hamilton was named Secretary of the Treasury). Don't worry, I had no idea who he was until his name re-emerged from somewhere in the depths of my brain after more than probably thirty years. This is the guy, and his wife, who my grandmother had told me about as a small child. Someone important and somehow related to me.

Typing in the best spelling of Michael Hillegas that I could conjure up (remember, this was pre-Google) I immediately had countless links of information on who, I eventually discovered, to be my fifth great-grandfather.

I may as well have been hit with a bolt of lightning. This moment is when I became fascinated with learning all I could about researching my family history. This moment is when the obsession for locating that next scrap of paper to connect one more generation manifested itself. This moment is when the stories of those who came before me cried out to be told. This moment was the beginning of my life as a genealogist. I have no doubt that God had a hand in it.

But to what end? I asked myself that question often in the beginning. It didn't take long to figure it out, however. In the words of Pablo Picasso, "The meaning of life is to find your gift. The purpose of life is to give it away." I use my God given talent every day to help others connect to their own past and to resurrect the memories of their ancestors so that future generations will know their stories.

PS - the sepia photos turned out NOT to be Michael Hillegas and his wife. See you next week...