Funeral services were held Sunday afternoon at DeValk Funeral Home in Sheldon for Daniel F. Schlotman, 78, 275 E. Concord, Sheldon. Mr. Schlotman died at 12:25 p.m., Friday, November 6, 1981 at Iroquois Memorial Hospital following a three-week illness.
He was born April 19, 1903 in Sheldon, the son of Oscar F. and Anna Reynolds Schlotman. He married Clara Light on August 20, 1927 in Watseka.
She survives, along with two daughters, Phyllis Kingdon of Watseka and Marcia Sowers of Donovan; six grandchildren; three great-grandchildren; a brother, John of Kentland; and four sisters, Dorothy Pothuisje of Goodland, Ind., Luella Schlotman of Sheldon, and Margaret Riker of Kentland, Ind., and Betty Leonard of Chicago.
Mr. Schlotman resided in Sheldon his entire lifetime. He retired in 1972 after being a rural mail carrier for 35 years. He was a member of the United Methodist Church in Sheldon, the Sheldon Masonic Lodge and the Daville Consistory.
The Rev. Robert Sabo officiated with burial in Sheldon cemetery.
Visitation and Masonic rites were held at the funeral home on Saturday.
Source
Iroquois County Genealogical Society, Obituary File, Unknown Newspaper, Unknown Date (after 8 Nov 1981, funeral date)
Daniel Schlotman
SHELDON – Daniel F. Schlotman, 78, of 275 E. Concord, Sheldon, died at 12:25 p.m. Friday at Iroquois Memorial Hospital, Watseka, following a three-week illness.
He was born April 19, 1903, in Sheldon, to Oscar F. and Anna Reynolds Schlotman. He was married to the former Clara Light, Aug. 20, 1927, in Watseka.
He was a lifelong resident of Sheldon, and was a rural mail carrier for 35 years until his retirement in 1972. He was a member of the United Methodist Church of Sheldon, the Sheldon Masonic Lodge, and the Danville Consistory.
Survivors include his wife; two daughters, Phyllis Kingdon of Watseka, and Marcia Sowers of Donovan; six grandchildren; three great-grandchildren; one brother, John of Kentland, Ind.; and four sisters, Dorothy Pothuisje of Goodland, Ind., Luella Schlotman of Sheldon, Margaret Riker of Kentland, and Betty Leonard of Chicago.
Visitation and Masonic rites were conducted Saturday at DeValk Funeral Home. Services will be at 2 p.m. today at United Methodist Church with the Rev. Robert Sabo officiating. Burial will be in Sheldon Cemetery.
A 1912 fashion illustration shows the type of thing Clara and Mirla might have worn around the time they met. [Pinterest: Queen PoohBear]
My great-grandmother, Clara Schlotman, recorded some stories on a cassette tape for me in the Summer of 1999. One of the stories she told me started with her family’s move from their rented farm in Concord Township, Iroquois County, to the village of Sheldon, Illinois.
At that time, in about 1912, Clara’s father, Nathaniel Light (1857-1916) was in failing health. He had been diagnosed with Bright’s Disease and found himself unable to do farm work.
Nathaniel moved his family into town where they ran a restaurant. I believe they lived above the restaurant, which was located in downtown Sheldon. It was there that my grandmother met Mirla Dibble.
"There was a little girl that lived in the apartment not too far down the street from where we were. So, I walked to school with her. I learned the city by walking to school with her. She was real nice. Her name was Mirla Dibble. She wasn't well. She was a very frail little girl, and she didn't live maybe ten years later."
Clara Light Schlotman (1905-2001), Summer 1999, remembering her childhood in Sheldon, Illinois in 1912
Mirla E. Dibble was born in 1906 in Wells, Fairbault County, Minnesota. Her parents were Louis Orrin Dibble (1875-1930), a native of Minnesota, and her mother was Emma Eugenia Tiedt Dibble (1870-1967), from Wisconsin. Both Louis and Emma came from German immigrant parents. The couple married in 1898 in Minnesota and had seven (known) children there:
Melville Earl Dibble (1899-1899)
Laverna Belle Dibble Marshall (1900-1994)
Infant Twins (1902-1902)
Lura Dell Dibble Penticott (1903-2004)
Mirla E. Dibble (1906-1929)
Cherril Louis Dibble (1908-1980)
At some point before the 1910 census, Louis Dibble moved his family to Sheldon, Iroquois County, Illinois. They were enumerated in Sheldon village where Louis worked as a dredgeman in the ditching industry.
By 1918, the Dibbles had moved to Crown Point, Lake County, Indiana where they lived at 308 Grant Street. Louis registered for the draft that September and reported that he was working as an engineer for the Inter State Public Service Company.
At the time of the 1920 census, the family was still in on Grant Street in Crown Point. Louis was a laborer and Emma worked as a waitress. Eldest daughter Laverna was by then Mrs. Roy Marshall and living on East Grove Street back in Sheldon, Illinois. At home in Crown Point, Lura Dell was sixteen and had a job as a stenographer in a law office. Mirla and Cherril attended school.
At some point after 1920, it seems that Louis and Emma divorced. Louis later remarried and died in 1930 from a heart attack.
The Dunn Hotel
A C. R. Childs photo postcard from 1912 showing the Dunn Hotel in Sheldon, Illinois [eBay]
On 29 July 2022, Stella Cyr, the granddaughter of Laverna Dibble Marshall responded to a post in “History of Sheldon, Illinois (Iroquois County),” a Facebook group I am admin for, by Georgia Potts about the Dunn Hotel in Sheldon, Illinois:
“Believe this is the Hotel my Grandma Laverna (Dibble) Marshall worked at as a teenager. Met my Grandpa Roy Marshall and they married in 1918. At one time, I knew the ladies name who ran it. Dad (Francis Marshall) talked about it.”
Stella Cyr, 29 July 2022, speaking about the Dunn Hotel in Sheldon, Illinois
The uncommon Dibble name caught my eye and I asked if she was any relation to Mirla. She told me:
"Myrla Dibble was my Grandma Laverna’s younger sister. As a young woman, Myrla went to Chicago to stay with Luradell (another sister). Myrla was found deceased in a alley-side street wearing Luradell’s fur coat. Believe she is buried in Crown Point, Ind. and haven’t researched the actual site to know her age when she died but believe she may have been in her 20’s. I’ve never seen any pictures or obituary for her. As with many families, the history is lost when you don’t asked questions of your elders."
Stella Cyr, 29 July 2022, speaking about her grandaunt, Mirla Dibble
Death of a Jane Doe
A search of Newspapers.com in the Chicago Tribune for 1929 quickly yielded small bits of information about Mirla’s sad end. The following appeared on 17 March 1929 on page two:
“Young Woman Falls Dead at Montrose and Sheridan,” Chicago Tribune, Chicago, Illinois, 17 Mar 1929, Sunday, Page 2 [Newspapers.com]
Young Woman Falls Dead at Montrose and Sheridan
An unidentified young blonde woman in a fur trimmed caracul coat and black satin dress collapsed on the curb last night at Sheridan road and Montrose avenue and died. Her body was lifted into a cab by Sergt. Paul Winton of the Lincoln park police and taken to Lake View hospital.
An ad for David Adler in Chicago from 1928 showing Caracul (Lamb) Fur Coats trimmed with fox and baum marten. Mirla was wearing her sister Lura’s fur coat when she died. [Newspapers.com]
A circa 1929 black satin dress showing the style Mirla Might have been wearing the night of her death [Etsy: Fashion History Museum]
Lake View Hospital where Mirla’s body was taken in a cab by Sgt. Paul Winton of the Lincoln Park Police. This building was demolished in the 1970s [ Chuckman’s Photos]
Mirla Identified
It took only one day for the following to appear in the Chicago Tribune:
“Identify Body of Girl Who Died on Street,” Chicago Tribune, Chicago, Illinois, 18 Mar 1929, Monday, Page 4 [Newspapers.com]
Identify Body of Girl Who Died on Street
The body of the blonde young woman who collapsed and died Saturday night at Sheridan road and Montrose avenue was identified last night as that of Miss Mirla Dibble, 22 years old, of Crown Point, Ind. Her sister, Mrs. Laura Rick [sic., should be Rich], 825 Buena avenue, identified the body.
SHERIDAN & MONTROSE
Mirla’s grandniece, Stella Cyr, told us that Mirla was staying with her sister. Here is a map showing how close the location of Mirla’s collapse at Sheridan and Montrose was to Lura’s 825 Buena Avenue home:
825 W Buena Ave, Chicago, IL 60613 to Sheridan & Montrose, Chicago, IL – [Google Maps]
I found these IDOT Chicago Traffic Photographs on the website of the University of Illinois Chicago. They show the intersection where Mirla collapsed as it looked in 1936, just seven years after the event.
Sheridan Road; Montrose Avenue. Looking west.Sheridan Road; Montrose Avenue. Looking northwest. Sheridan Road; Montrose Avenue. Looking north.Sheridan Road; Montrose Avenue. Looking west.Sheridan Road; Montrose Avenue. Looking north. North Sheridan Road at West Montrose Avenue. Photograph was taken at 5:15 PM. N. Sheridan Road at W. Montrose Avenue. Photograph was taken at 5:25 PM.Traffic Intersection at N. Sheridan Road and W. Montrose Ave. [CARLI: IDOT]
What happened to Mirla?
Mirla’s death certificate and local research would likely yield more information. For now, here’s what we know:
At the time of her death, Mirla was twenty-two years old and had blonde hair. She was staying with her sister, Lura, and was working as a “beauty operator.”
Mirla collapsed on a Saturday evening and was wearing a black satin dress and her sister’s fur coat. She was unidentified, which means she was probably alone.
We don’t know why Mirla was at the location where she collapsed. It could be that she was on her way somewhere — to a party or a dance or a friend’s house? Or, she could have been headed home. She might have been walking or had caught a bus or cab.
Mirla’s cause of death is unknown at this time. Her childhood friend, Clara Light (by then Schlotman), remembered her as a frail and sickly girl. Mirla’s father died of a heart attack at a fairly young age. Perhaps a congenital heart ailment was to blame for Mirla’s sudden death.
At Rest
Mirla’s body was identified by her sister Lura on Sunday night, about one day after her death. At that time, her name was Lura Rich, but I have failed to find information about her husband.
I have not been able to find an obituary for Mirla in the Chicago Tribune or in other online newspapers.
Mirla and her mother, Emma’s gravestone at Maplewood Memorial Cemetery [FindAGrave: Indiana Bill]
Three days after her death, Mirla was buried at Maplewood Memorial Cemetery in Crown Point, Lake County, Indiana. Either O. H. Jordan Company or W. A. Feguersa was in charge of the arrangements. Mirla rests beside her mother, Emma, who died in 1967 at the age of ninety-seven.
After sharing my article on Facebook, I was given some new information.
“I have a picture and the children of Louis & Emma were written on the back, including the twins. I had asked my Dad and Uncle but apparently that information was not shared with them by my Grandma, they knew nothing about the twins or the eldest son. Louis Dibble did ditch digging, in fact most of the ditches in Sheldon were dug by him and there were pictures of his machinery. Louis & Emma did divorce and Emma moved to Crown Point. Grandma Laverna stayed in Crown Point during at least 2 of her pregnancies as my Uncle Everett and my Dad were born there. Grandpa Roy was in WW1 at the time.”
“Louis Dibble remarried to Josephine Wojack (Iroquois, Il), and had something to do with the Nest (bar/night club) located on the South side of the Iroquois River in Iroquois, Il. I was always told that Louis Dibble was running from the copers (police) and died as a result of an automobile accident. He was 54 years old. Louis and his 2nd wife, Josephine are buried at Prairie Dell, West of Iroquois, graves located just West of the old Church. Also told he and another person were bootleggers thus the police chase.”
Stella Cyr, 1 Jul 2022, speaking about this article in the Facebook group “History of Sheldon, Illinois (Iroquois County)”
I attempted to research Louis’ death and troubles with the law but found nothing online. Local research would surely yield some information about it. Given this new information, Louis’ cause of death cited in the article, which I found in a family tree on Ancestry.com and was unsourced, should be considered possibly incorrect. And, my conclusion that a heart condition may have been the cause of Mirla’s death is now in question. UPDATE: Georgia Robertson has told me that her mother said that Mirla had heart problems. So, her death was likely due to a heart attack.
Another development is that we now have some photos of Mirla thanks to Georgia Robertson, who is another grandniece of Mirla’s. She also shared a memorial booklet which provides Mirla’s birth date – 19 September 1906.
The photos here were taken with a cell phone. I used an AI program to sharpen the portrait of Mirla, but the others are untouched.
A portrait of Mirla which looks like it might have been a senior portrait – circa 1925 This has been sharpened using an AI program.
In loving remembrance of Mirla E. Dibble Born Sept. 19, 1906. Died March 16, 1929.
‘Tis hard to break the tender cord When love has bound the heart, ‘Tis hard, so hard, to speak the words “We must forever part.” Dearest loved one we must lay thee In the peaceful grave’s embrace. But they memory will be cherished ‘Til we see thy heavenly face.
Two more photos of Mirla shared by her grandniece, Georgia Robertson
In 1999, while visiting my great-grandmother, Clara Schlotman, I gave her a tape recorder and tapes and asked if she would record some stories for me. I transcribed the tape, and this is the result.
Well, here I am again. I’m going to try to tell you something that I don’t know too much about. On the farm we had a building called the crib, which stored the corn on either side of the building and in the center, you could drive a wagon or use it for a storage space or whatever. Well, when the proper time came (now I can’t remember what time of the year it would be–it was nice weather, I know) the geese that we raised on the farm (we had ducks and geese and chickens) would be driven into the center of this building and closed up. My mother always took a chair, she put on a big apron, and she would pick up one of these geese, one at a time, lay it on its back across her lap, and pluck feathers from its breast. Now, she didn’t bare that breast, she just, I don’t know how she knew, but anyway, the breast was left covered. And she’d save those feathers and put them in a bag. That was down. That’s what you made your down pillows from. And she’d take each one and as she finished with one, it was put outside and each one was plucked until they were all done. But I don’t know how long it took to have enough down for a pillow, I have no idea, but that’s the way that they were plucked. Then…I don’t know where to go from here. I guess we’ll stop right here for a little bit.
Well, here I go again. I was going to tell about when you live on the farm. There’s always so much work to be done. The men have a lot of work. They work from early morning until late at night and after the chores were done at night, the cows were milked (and I guess that they might have milked them at night too, I don’t remember) and supper over, the family all gathered in the living room and talked and laughed and told stories and played games. You never once thought of saying “I’m going to town” or “I’ll be back, so and so.” Everybody was home and went to bed and had a good night’s rest, because tomorrow brings another day. They had to work hard, as well as the women because they had all those beds to make and change and they had to cook and fix a good meal. Breakfast consisted of meat, potatoes and gravy and whatever. Of course, I was never up early. But when I got up, there was a place for me waiting. I loved to take a slice of bread and pull it into little parts, and just and stack it on my plate way up high, and then put gravy on top of that. Oh, that was so good! But that’s been a long time ago. Now, as I was telling you, we were on the farm. I had a big yard to play in, but I didn’t go out of the yard unless somebody was with me, because there was always animals — cows and pigs and horses and whatever we had was around. And then there would be, some distance from the house, a plot of ground where we’d have watermelons out there. We had plenty of watermelons and musk melons. And then we had the garden which had plenty of potatoes that we would dig. Aunt Nona was the one that was always around to dig potatoes and gather things from the garden. So, if we wanted watermelon, sometimes we’d just walk out into the patch and we’d thump the watermelons to see how they sounded. If they sounded like they were good and ripe, we’d just pick it up and drop it and it would break into several pieces. And we’d stand right there and eat that watermelon. Oh my, we’d spit out all those seeds, oh! *chuckle*, it was great. Oh! So, that’s it for now.
Here I am again with another tale. When I was just quite small, everybody told me that Santa Claus lived in Iceland. So, one day I thought, “well I’ll just talk to him myself and find out.” So, I remember there was a telephone hanging on the wall, a big, old-fashioned thing and you had to ring to get central and get through. So, I rang the ringer (on the side was a thing to ring it) and central said, (oh I don’t remember I suppose she said) “Central.” And I said, “Well, give me Santa Claus at Iceland.” I don’t know where my mother was, but about that time she got me down off that chair and I never did get to talk to Santa. That’s it! *chuckle*
Well, hello. Here we go again. I was going to tell you about…besides farming, my father owned and operated a threshing machine. Now, that consisted of a steam engine, water tank, (the whatever it was, where they put the oats in, and it took the hulls and everything off of the oats and the corn…that was called) the sheller. He did his own business at home and then he would go out into the neighborhood and help the neighbors with all of this. Of course, I’m assuming that they paid him for this. I don’t (of course I wasn’t big enough to) know. But anyway, he was a busy man. And he was a gentle, soft-spoken man, and had a beard, and he was a great guy. That’s all for right now.
Good morning! Today is my father’s birthday, so I thought I’d talk a little bit about him. His health began to fail and he couldn’t any longer farm. But he thought that he’d be able to do something. So he bought a restaurant in Sheldon and he had a sale and sold his farm equipment and we moved to Sheldon. It was a nice, big restaurant and there was a living space up above. I was seven years old and I started to school in Sheldon, the first grade at age seven. Anyway, my mother did the cooking and my father was downstairs, of course. Then, there were a couple of the boys that helped occasionally. But oh, I was so proud of that. The windows were deep seated and we had little white curtains to the back of them and the display in the windows was big jars of candy. I don’t remember what else but I do remember the candy in lovely big, big jars. There was a little girl that lived in the apartment not too far down the street from where we were. So, I walked to school with her. I learned the city by walking to school with her. She was real nice. Her name was Mirla Dibble. She wasn’t well. She was a very frail little girl and she didn’t live maybe ten years later. We weren’t in the restaurant to long until my father saw that he wasn’t going to be able to do that. So, we found a home in Sheldon and he closed the restaurant. We lived not to far from town and everything was working out well as far as I was concerned. (I fell down the basement once. We had a trap door in the kitchen, and I went rushing through, and the door was open, and down I went. Maybe that’s what hurt my head today *chuckle*! Well, I just thought I’d tell you about that.) Then we moved a couple of more times until we found the right home for us. My father wasn’t able to do anything. He had such headaches. And the doctor had told him to soak his feet in real hot water and that would take the blood from the brain and would relieve him. Anyway, this went on for some time. And so finally, he passed away and then we were left without him. That’s all now.
Good morning. This is June the second, 1999. It is now about 10:00 in the morning, temperature around sixty-eight degrees. The Sky is partly cloudy. And it’s to be about 70 degrees today, a little cooler than what we’ve been having. I had my air conditioner put in yesterday. It was pretty warm on Saturday, but now that I have it in, it’s cool. Well, I think that I haven’t been too busy, but that’s all right. We went Memorial Day to Marcia’s in the evening. Day before, we had gone to the cemetery to do some decorating and that’s been about it. You know this may just be my last recording. I can’t think of anything, really. I had a very simple life, I had fun. But I can’t remember everything, and it wouldn’t be fun to you if it repeated, so this is the way it goes. I went to school every day and I came home and worked–maybe did ironing or something necessary, studied, maybe go to the library in the evening. But on the whole, everything was very simple. Since I can’t think of anything more at this moment, I’ll wish you all adieu and maybe I’ll see you all again.
This snapshot was in a brown paper bag full of photos that I scanned in June 2000. At the time, the photo belonged to my great-grandmother, Clara Schlotman. Grandma passed the following January. I don’t know the current location of this photo.
This photo shows my great-grandfather, Dan Schlotman, as a young man, possibly a teenager. It is labeled, “Dan Schlotman, taken by himself.” He was given a camera as a high school graduation present in 1921. This was probably taken with it.
I am not very knowledgeable about cameras, but I think it is unlikely that his camera would have had a timer or any kind of remote capability. I wonder if Grandpa set up the shot and had someone else press the button for him after he got in place.
I don’t know where this was taken, but it might have been either his father, Oscar Schlotman’s home or his grandmother, Rhoda Schlotman’s home. They both lived in the Sheldon, Illinois area.
The full Nancy McCarty portrait including Meier Studio mount, abt. 1905
The photo
This matte collodion print shows my 3rd great-grandmother, Nancy Jane Hull McCarty (1832-1908) in about 1905. The photo was taken at Meier Studio in Sheldon, Illinois. I have been unable to find any information on this photographer.
She is seated in a wicker photographer’s chair (a.k.a. posing chair) which has been placed on a floral rug. The same chair appears in other family photos of the time. The backdrop is mostly plain, but a flowering plant is painted on it at one side.
The card mount has a base of the common grey board but has a textured overlay which transitions from grey to black. I suspect that the grey is due to sun fading, but I can’t be sure of it. If it was originally solid black, it might have been chosen for mourning reasons.
Nancy’s mourning pin shows a portrait of her husband, James, who died in 1902
Nancy is wearing a piece of jewelry showing a portrait of her husband, James S. McCarty (1825-1902). I have compared it to the two known photos of James, and it doesn’t appear to be the same.
Nancy’s dress is very dark, possibly black, with a bit of white lace or light fabric trimming her collar. It was expected that a widow would wear mourning clothing and adhere to customs for at least a year after the death of her husband. While this might be considered a mourning gown, many elderly widows didn’t adhere to the standard mourning timeframes and just wore black for the remainders of their lives. So, this photo wasn’t necessarily taken within the year following her husband’s death.
A cropped versionThe back, labelled by Nancy’s granddaughter, Clara Light Schlotman
Her life
Nancy Jane Hull was born on Christmas day in 1832 in Hampshire County, (now West) Virginia to William and Rebecca Hager Hull. She married James S. McCarty on the frozen Potomac River on 15 January 1852.
After having their firstborn, William Thomas McCarty (1852-1919) at home in Virginia, the couple moved to Greene County, Ohio where they had six more children. James worked as a farmhand.
At some point between 1833 and 1866, the family moved to Iroquois County, Illinois, settling in Concord Township near Bunkum, which later became the town of Iroquois (Nancy’s father and some siblings moved to a different area of Illinois at an unknown time). Three more children were born in Illinois to bring the final number to ten (known) children born to Nancy and James.
By 1880, the McCartys had moved just across the Indiana state line to Washington Township in Newton County. After James’ death in 1902, Nancy lived with her son Luke in Effner, back in Iroquois County, Illinois.
Late in life, Nancy suffered from several health problems, but was able to keep house until just before her death. Nancy died 16 August 1908 at age seventy-five. She was buried next to her husband at Morris Chapel Cemetery near Donovan, Illinois. She left ten children, thirty-eight grandchildren, and thirteen great-grandchildren to mourn her loss.
My great-grandmother, Clara Marie Light Schlotman (1905-2001) had a short career as a country schoolteacher in the mid-1920s. After talking to her daughter (my grandmother) in 2021, I did a little research and was able to put together this information.
After graduating from Sheldon (Illinois) High School in 1925, Clara Light attended Mrs. Brown’s Normal Training School for Teachers in Homer, Illinois. She was one of about forty students that summer. The students gathered at Mrs. Brown’s home for a group photo, shown below
Mrs. Lucy Brown is seated, fourth from the right. Clara Light is standing to her right, wearing glasses.
Mrs. Brown
From 1917 until about 1931, Lucy Stewart Brown offered training for aspiring teachers. At that time, there was no requirement of formal training to start teaching school. But the better one’s education, the better the salary one could command. Her school seems to have filled a niche for those who wished to teach with more than just a high school education but didn’t have the means or inclination to attend a university program. (This information is from a dissertation written on one-room schoolhouses and from the Facebook page for the Homer, Illinois Historical Society.)
Mrs. Brown’s payment was tied to her students’ success with obtaining certification. If a student failed certification exams after two tries, they owed Mrs. Brown nothing. But, if they passed, they owed her $25 from their first paycheck. (Carol Erb told me this. See next section for more information)
Mildred, a fellow student
Mildred Wilson in 1925
Also at Mrs. Brown’s school that summer was Mildred Wilson, later Mildred Hall.
In 2021, I conversed with her daughter, Carol, on Facebook. She identified her mother in the photo as the girl in the dark dress in the group to the far left. Before passing in 2009 at the age of 102, Mildred told her daughter that…
“…the classes were held in the old high school — that was the upper story of what is now considered the Homer Opera House at the corner of Rt. 49 and First Street in Homer. Her words were that the days were long, hot, and brain-taxing.”
The Homer Opera House today — The second floor was used as Homer High School from around 1914 until 1928. Mrs. Brown’s students also used the space for their training in the summer of 1925. Photo from a post by the Homer Opera House’s Facebook on 2 Feb 2018.
When asked about living arrangements, Carol remembered her mother telling her that…
“…there were some small houses across the street from the Brown home that the girls in the classes lived in during the week and probably most of them went back to their homes on weekends.”
She also said that the boys lived in the unfinished upstairs of the Brown home.
Clara Light, Country School Teacher
Her first job was near Gilman, Illinois. The name of the school was the Brooke School.
Note: Nana remembered the name of the school because, after the death of Aunt Nona’s first husband, Albert Diefenbaugh, Aunt Nona worked as a housekeeper for Ed Brooke who lived near Gilman. They were eventually married. Aunt Nona was Grandma Schlotman’s older sister.
Brooke School was located 1.9 miles ESE of Gilman (40.753925, -87.957260), northeast of the intersection of County Roads 900E and 1700N.
Nana said that Grandma lived with a family from the school through the week and would go home to her mother’s house in Sheldon on the weekend. Her brother, Darwin “Dobby” Light would drive her most of the twenty-two plus miles to her destination, but would let her out at the point that the paved road ended. Grandma would then walk the rest of the way. The roads, being dirt, could be very muddy and unpleasant to navigate.
Nana also said she remembers that most of the students Grandma taught were of German descent — that there was a German settlement in the Gilman area. This jives with the photos I found of some of Grandma’s students. One is of Margaret Habben. The label says that she was Grandma’s “7th Grade girl.” Another photo shows, “Gerhard giving Nero a ride in the wagon.” He was Margaret Habben’s younger brother.
It’s unclear at this point when Grandma began teaching. If the summer school was enough to prepare her to pass the examination required for her teaching certificate, she probably started at Gilman in the fall of 1925. That would mean that she taught two seasons.
In July of 1927, Grandma was hired to teach closer to home. She was to begin at Clark School, 2.7 miles north of Sheldon, for the 1927-28 school year. Her marriage to Grandpa in August permanently terminated her teaching career, as married ladies were not allowed to teach in Iroquois County at that time.
Questions
Do we have her teaching certificate?
Which family did she live with during the week? It might have been the Habben family. Where did they live?
Several photos I’ve scanned of the Schlotman family are by T.W. Spencer. Mr. Spencer is not a member of our family tree that I’m aware of. But I’ve found that it often helps to date photos by looking into the photographer. Here’s some of what I found.
Detail of a map of Ohio, showing Pickaway, Fairfield, Hocking, Fayette, Ross, Vinton, and others. (worldmapstore.com)
Thomas Worthington Spencer was born 31 Mar 1816 in Chillicothe, Ross, Ohio to Jesse and Catherine Beidler Spencer. Ross County is south of Pickaway, where he later had his studio. After the death of his father in 1840, twenty-five-year-old T.W. married Caroline Karshner in Hocking County on 20 Jun 1841.
Sources on Ancestry.com have newspaper clippings attached to Thomas W. Spencer about a murder he was accused of committing in Columbus in 1851, at which time he was a cattle dealer. There is no information about the resolution of that case and, if he was convicted, what his sentence was. But, there is a ten year gap in the known children he had with his wife and then a move to Carroll County, Tennessee before 1860, where Thomas worked as a watchmaker. By 1864, T.W. was back in Ohio, where he was a photographer and jewelry dealer on Main Street in McArthur, Vinton, Ohio. Shortly thereafter (1864-1866), he found his way to Circleville in Pickaway County, where he would live the rest of his life. Spencer’s Photograph Gallery was located over May & Conn’s China Store on West Main Street.
In addition to being a jeweler and photographer, Thomas Spencer was an inventor, patenting a time-lock for safes.
Two of Thomas’ sons, Oscar H. Spencer (1843-1928), and Philander Chase Spencer (1847-1912), were also photographers.
Thomas W. Spencer engaged in the photography trade in Circleville until September 1896, when he sold out to G. Edwin Thornton. He died the following year on 25 Jan 1897. Wilson’s Photography Magazine described him as one of the oldest photographers in Ohio. He was buried at Circleville Cemetery.
The Pickaway County Historical & Genealogical Society has a collection of local photos, including some by Spencer.
A carte de visite of D.F. Schlotman and friend Oscar Johnson is by G.W. Shear of Morenci, Lenawee, Michigan. It is undated, but I suspect it was after D.F.’s marriage in 1875 due to his facial hair. The photo attached to a framed marriage certificate shows D.F. with a mustache but no chin hair. The Shear photo shows a goatee.
G. Willard Shear as a young man
In an attempt to date the photo, I looked into G.W. Shear and here’s what I found:
His name was George Willard Shear, known as G. Willard Shear, and he was born in New York in about 1851.
He began his photography career in 1874 in Adrian, Michigan, studying under “the highest masters of the art” (Raether, 313). At some point after this, he had his studio in Morenci, about twenty miles from Adrian.
At some point after completing his photography training, Shear studied portrait painting in Detroit. He later became known for his skill in photo enlargements in india ink, crayon, and watercolor. Back then, photo enlargement didn’t result in a good-looking image suitable for display. Photographers would paint or draw over the print to enhance the image. No doubt his training in portrait painting helped him succeed in this area.
A view of Castleton, New York from the Hudson River in Shear’s 1888 book, Panorama of the Hudson
A book on Ohio photographers lists Shear as having a studio in Lima from 1879-1888. Later, he was engaged to photograph panoramic views of both banks of the Hudson River from New York City to Albany, which resulted in a book, “Panorama of the Hudson,” published in 1888. Then, Shear became the official photographer for the Florida division of the L&N railroad and, simultaneously, a professor at a photography school there.
In search of health, Shear moved through the Carolinas, Virginia, and then Wisconsin by 1902. In 1910, he was in Texas. By 1920, he was in Fulton County, Ohio.
I have been unsuccessful in finding death information for Shear. I found his name an index for probates in Ohio, but didn’t find the date or location of his death. It was likely before 1930, as I failed to find him in the census for that year.
