“Nikolaus Priester (1832-1907) married Katharina Sees about 1857, and immigrated from Germany to Melbourne, Australia. In 1868 the family immigrated to land in the Valley of the Cahuengas (which later became Hollywood). After the death of Katharina, Nikolaus married his brother’s widow, Anna Catherine (Sprekle) Priester. Includes descendants living in California, Massachusetts and elsewhere.”

– Nikolaus Priester: a tribute to a pioneer of “The Valley of the Cahuengas” (Hollywood), Nikolaus Priester, by Esther M. Meadows

I just stumbled over the above while searching the Family History Library book catalog. It never fails, I’m always stunned and emotional when I make a new genealogical discovery. I knew I had an ancestor on the McLain side named Nicholas Priester, who was one of the pioneers of the Hollywood area, but this summary provides details that I didn’t have. Not sure if Nikolaus and Nicholas are the same or father and son. I will have to request this microfilm and see what I can see.

I’m planning a possible visit to the FHL in Salt Lake City. Not sure if it will happen, and in any case, I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed at the prospect, especially with limited time.

WILLIAM H. STEVENS

Brother Stevens was from Winnebago County, Illinois, where he had a wife and six children. He was taken down sick at a boarding-house on Clark’s Point, in Broadway. There were no temperance hotels here in those days. Brother Stevens lay in a “bunk,” in the second story of the building. This story was all in one room, and the boarders, of almost every name and nation, were there stowed away in tiers of “bunks,” as they have them on passenger ships; only in the roughest style. These tiers not only extended round the wall on all sides, but were built up in crib form, with little passages between them, all over the floor. In this most uncomfortable place, Brother Stevens lingered several weeks, and died. The bar-room, underneath him, was the scene of drunken reveling, profane oaths, filthy songs, and midnight brawls. The sick man, on one occasion, offered the landlord ten dollars if he would, for one night, suspend the noise of the bar-room, that he might have a little rest; but quietness could not be bought at any price. He requested that some one should go for a minister, or any other Christian man, to come and see him, but nobody there had time.

Never having met with the brother, and knowing nothing of his case, I chanced to preach, one Sunday morning, in the street opposite his window. Hearing the welcome sounds of a song of Zion, he got out of his bunk, and crawled to the window, and there listened for the last time to a preached Gospel. The text on that occasion was, ” The night cometh, when no man can work.” He wept and praised God at that window, for the unexpected privilege, and crawled back to his bed, wishing some one would tell the preacher that a dying brother would like to see him. A man whom he had hired to nurse him finally found my residence, and informed me of the sick man. In a few minutes I was by his side.

There he lay, calm and composed. After speaking of his experience during his illness, he said, “I have a dear wife and six children in Illinois. I leave them in the care of Jesus. I have for many years been a member of the Methodist Episcopal Church, and have proved the sufficiency of the grace of God in a great variety of trials. I want you to write to my wife, and say to her, ‘I die in peace, and go home to heaven. I appoint to meet her and the children there.’ ” In a few minutes afterward, without a groan or a struggle, he fell asleep in Christ.

The next day, Sunday, March 3, 1850, I stood on a pile of lumber in Happy Yalley, and preached his funeral sermon to a large, attentive audience, in the open air. The text was, “All flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass. The grass withereth, and the flower thereof fadeth away, but the word of the Lord endureth forever.”

William Taylor (1821-1902) was a Methodist minister specializing in “street preaching” in Baltimore and Washington, D.C., when the Methodist church sent him to California as a missionary evangelist in 1849. He remained in the West for seven years, going on to become one of the church’s most tireless worldwide evangelists.

From http://www.archive.org and http://openlibrary.org

Naomi also knew my grandpa’s parents, Clayton Hayward Stephens and Frances “Fannie” Zalud Stephens. Naomi told me “Uncle Clayt” and “Aunt Fannie” were both tall — “she was tall for a woman and he was a few inches taller” — and “pleasingly plump.” Naomi said she thinks they were a very close family. She said Fannie — the daughter of immigrants — was very proud of Clayton’s Revolutionary War ancestry.

I asked Naomi what my grandpa was talking about when he told me I “come from Bohemian royalty.” Beyond the wealthy and aristocratic background of the early Zaluds in Czechoslovakia, apparently one young, unmarried Zalud woman had an affair with the Austrian Duke of Graz. They conceived a son, and she later married and had more children. I’m not directly descended from any of them. That’s it! Hmmm. Well, as Naomi said, “I knew your grandpa and he would enlarge on the facts.” Yes, he was quite the storyteller. I can’t fathom, though, why he would tell me the English and Scottish were “rapists and murderers” or neglect to tell me about his family’s long history in the United States and Revolutionary War ancestors. Now I know his parents knew about them and he had to know, too.

~

Here’s a book I spent some time looking at earlier today: “Stevens genealogy: Some descendants of the Fitz Stephen family in England and New England.” It’s a beautifully written history, published in 1905, of the Stephens/Stevens family from the time of William the Conqueror to the 1800s in the United States. Although it contains numerous Stephens in the Connecticut area in the 1700s, where my ancestors reportedly were, I don’t recognize any of the names.

“The Fitz Stephen family came over with William the Conqueror, and were feudal barons in Gloucestershire from the reign of King Henry II, first of the Plantagenets.”

It also describes the family coat of arms and mottos. I love this:

“The motto, as is allowable, has been varied and has included the following: “Je vis en espoir” [I live in hope], ” Vigilans et audax ” [vigilance and audacity], ” Concilio et armis” [possibly conciliation and arms], ” Fides Stephani” [faith Stephens?], and ” Byde Tyme”, the latter being old English for “Abide time,” meaning patience or endurance with unflinching purpose.”

Zalud, it turns out, means “acorn” in Czech.

My father’s father’s mother was Frances “Fanny” Zalud. Her father was Joseph Zalud and her mother was Barbara Kaiser. Joseph and Barbara were both from small towns in Bohemia (near what is now Prague, Czechoslovakia) and married shortly after they both immigrated to the United States in 1877.

The genealogy book that Naomi so lovingly compiled in the 1970s and ’80s extends what I knew about my great-great-grandparents Joseph and Barbara back many, many generations, to my earliest known Zalud ancestor, Benes Zalud, born sometime before 1600, and his son, Jan Zalud, born in 1625. I spent much of yesterday entering names, dates and details of these Kaiser and Zalud ancestors into my Reunion genealogy software, but I can’t begin to re-create the thoroughness of Naomi’s work. And she did it all without the Internet! She tracked down information the old-fashioned way — with correspondence, interviews and several trips to Czechoslovakia. I am so grateful for her work, and the work of all the genealogists who came before me.

While entering data yesterday, I began to feel overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of ancestors I’ve become aware of. I now have 701 relatives entered in my software, including 95 direct ancestors. (Pretty amazing, considering when I started doing genealogy research in 1999, I only knew the names of about eight.) I’m not sure why this feels so overwhelming. Maybe it’s the crushing sense of how finite our lives are or the burden of trying to live a life that honors my ancestors. Maybe it’s just the tedium of getting all these names and dates and details organized and entered into the computer, then shared with others.

Anyway, what really interests me are the stories. Genealogy is just names, dates and places, but family history is the stories — the big events, like war or crossing an ocean, and the little ones, like the fact that my great-great-grandmother Barbara Kaiser Zalud grew her own poppy seed for baking breads and rolls.

Upon further speculation, we’ve realized our Corn and Oysters tradition could even have come down through the generations from colonial America. We know our Stephens ancestors go back to at least the mid-1700s in the New York (and possibly Connecticut) area, and our Randall line goes back to the mid-1600s in Rhode Island. We’ve all heard the story about Native Americans teaching the cold, hungry pilgrims to fish and grow corn. The combination of corn and oysters sure sounds like a classic American Thanksgiving tradition, doesn’t it?

Cousin Shirley found this from the Union Oyster House:

Oysters were first served to the public in this country in 1763 when a primitive saloon was opened in New York City in a Broad Street cellar.

In the 19th century, the American people were enveloped in an oyster craze. In every town there were oyster parlors, oyster cellars, oyster saloons, oyster bars, oyster houses, oyster stalls and oyster lunchrooms. The oyster houses were very popular amongst the best class of people in the city. They were also popular amongst tourists because they knew they would get the choicest seafood, cooked and served in the best style. And with the “express” service and the coming of railroads, oyster houses became popular inland as well.

Corn and Oyster Casserole was always served at my grandparents’ and parents’ table for Thanksgiving and Christmas. My mother wrote down the recipe for me in 1985 and I’ve fixed it on many occasions, often bringing it as my potluck contribution to holiday meals. I always liked to speculate that 19th century Nebraskans had oysters shipped to them by train during the holidays, much like Laura Ingalls’ Christmas oranges. Sure enough, Shirley writes: “In Nebraska, I know oysters have been shipped to grocery stores in small pails at Christmas time since well before 1900.”

Besides corn and oysters, Saltine crackers are the third essential ingredient in our casserole. I’d guess they were an easy substitution for stale bread or bread crumbs. Here’s Wikipedia:

Soda crackers, also called “premium flake” and “saltina” crackers, date back at least to the 19th century. Premium Saltines, originally called Premium Soda Crackers, originated in 1876 in St. Joseph, Missouri.

A quick web search reveals no shortage of recipe variations for Corn and Oysters. It’s clearly a traditional holiday favorite for many families. Without further ado, here are two of our family’s versions.

Mine, as written by my mother:

Corn & Oysters Casserole
(a Stephens Family Favorite)

3 cans creamed corn
1 8 oz jar fresh oysters (med. size)
2 or more packages Saltine crackers
pepper
paprika
margarine

In a well buttered casserole layer creamed corn, dot with pieces of diced oysters, cover with crackers broken to small pieces. Repeat layers till full. End with a layer of corn topped with crackers. Dot with margarine. Sprinkle with pepper and paprika.

Bake in 350 degree F oven for 45 minutes to an hour — time will vary depending on size of casserole and juiciness of corn. This dish is better the next day so we often made it the day before the holiday.

Shirley’s version:

Scalloped Corn and Oysters

1/2 c. milk
2 eggs, beaten
1 16 oz. can cream style corn
1 10 1/2 oz. can oysters (if you drain liquid, increase milk by same amount)
2 tbsp. softened butter
1 c. crushed saltine or oyster crackers
salt and pepper to taste

Combine all ingredients and pour into buttered baking dish. Bake uncovered at 350 degrees for one hour or until knife inserted comes out clean. Serves six.

Optional topping on this casserole: 1 cup crushed corn flakes combined with 1/4 cup butter, cut in pieces.

For our family at Christmas, I usually double the recipe and use one can niblets corn and one can creamed corn.

I think mom just used creamed corn, a little milk, crushed soda crackers, oysters, and a couple eggs. I can remember the last thing she did was put pats of margarine on top of it, then threw it in the oven.

~

The main difference is that my version is missing the eggs and milk. I think I’m going to try Shirley’s version this year!

There is a really good chance that we are descended from William the Conqueror, aka William I, King of England. There is debate about Airard [Fitz-Stephens] and his son, Stephen du Blois, who married Adela, daughter of William, but the facts remain that they spelled their last name as we do one thousand years later, they were originally Norse, and they are in the Doomsday Book. Check, check, check.

She also wrote:

Naomi says the Stephenses were always VERY proud of their family heritage and name. They have been a tremendously literate family line, certainly the most prolific letter writers, diary loggers, and historians of any in my list.

Well. Damn. I guess I better get going on that book.

I just wrote this to a friend in an email:

Genealogists say that, if you’re lucky, there’s one in every generation. One person who carries on the knowledge of the past. I don’t think there were any in my parents’ generation, but I am extremely grateful to those in previous generations who did family history research. My Nana wrote a narrative about her mother and great-grandmother that is absolutely priceless to me. Other relatives did extensive research, and by tying into their work, I have learned so much. I was telling K this the other night — get whatever info you can from your living parent NOW. At the very least, get the names, birth dates and places. Ask them to write up a narrative of what they know about their parents and grandparents. And do the same for your children. You just never know, and once someone dies, their knowledge dies with them unless it’s been written down.

I was thinking about last night’s lecture, I think more people should do genealogy research. It should be taught in schools. Because our family history is this country’s history. And world history. George Price found out about his wonderfully diverse heritage (white, black, Native) and it made his study of history come alive. History has come alive for me, too. Until last week, I had about zero interest in the Revolutionary War. Suddenly I want to know MORE! Suddenly it feels relevant to me. And I never dreamed I had colonial and revolutionary ancestors. There must be millions just like me, who have no clue.

I understand that we get so busy living that it’s difficult to take time for things like family history. And sometimes records are lost or destroyed. But we should make time to at least get the basics down and shared with others in our family. Interview your elders. Fill out a family history sheet or just write down the names, dates and places you know. It doesn’t have to be perfect. Just do what you can. Someone in a future generation may be very grateful that you did.

I already knew that my Grandpa Acey’s uncle and cousin — Lamont and Norman Stephens — did extensive genealogy research. When I first started doing genealogy research in 1999, I connected with a very distant relative via the Mormon Church’s Family Search website. She sent me an entire book she’d compiled on the Randall family, which included research done by Lamont and Norman. Ruama Randall married William Harrison Stephens Sr. — they’re my great-great-great-grandparents. And back then, I was thrilled to learn that the Randalls went all the way back to colonial Rhode Island, with John Randall immigrating from England ca. 1666.

More recently, one of my second cousins had sent me a CD containing nearly 5,000 TIFF images of microfilmed files of Lamont’s and Norman’s research — letters, family sheets, obits, etc. I had looked at it a couple of times, but was completely overwhelmed by the sheer volume of information. Those two were lawyers and extremely meticulous.

Last week I learned that those files contain evidence of several additional generations of Stephens, going back to an ancestor who fought in the Revolutionary War, William Stephens. It looks like I probably qualify to join the Daughters of the American Revolution! Who would have ever thought? Apparently one of my distant relatives has already joined DAR and my cousins and I are now talking about joining together.

Here’s William Stephens’ entry on Find-A-Grave:

Birth: 1746
Death: 1827

STEPHENS
William Died June 13, 1827 ae 81-1-11(*No Revolutionary War marker but one
is to be placed. 1977 reading )
Wife Eunice died May 12, 1825 ae 81-7-15
* there is a photo online of the bronze Rev War marker now in place,
William 1746-1827 ENS NY Militia
* Son George b 11 SEP 1775 Of, Duanesburg, Schenectady, New York
Married Sarah WOOD
* son Philip L b 14 OCT 1787 Schoharie buried here

Burial:
East Ripley Cemetery
Ripley
Chautauqua County
New York, USA

Created by: Dolores Davidson
Record added: May 29, 2009
Find A Grave Memorial# 37681499

Here is the info in the DAR database (note that they standardize all surname spellings):

STEVENS, WILLIAM
Ancestor #: A109193
Service:
NEW YORK Rank: ENSIGN
Birth:
1743
Death:
6-13-1827 WESTFIEDL NEW YORK
Service Description:
1) CAPT JOSIAH HOWELL,COL DAVID MULFORD
2) 2ND SUFFOLK CO.,BATT.

Hmm, I just noticed the difference in birthdates.

I also found out a VERY interesting and amusing piece of information about a famous person I’m related to — but I’ll save that for another post!

John RANDALL , Immigrant Ancestor
Randall and Allied Families
http://wc.rootsweb.ancestry.com/cgi-bin/igm.cgi?op=GET&db=wrandall&id=I0023

John’s descendant, Ruama Randall, married William Harrison Stephens. I have a whole book of Randall family genealogy.

Also: The Genealogical Dictionary of Rhode Island: Comprising Three Generations of Settlers Who Came Before 1690