52 Ancestors: Week 10 - Changed My Thinking

 

How German Research Changed My Thinking

When I first began researching my family history, I approached genealogy with a simple goal: trace each line back until I found the immigrant ancestor. Once I identified the person who crossed the ocean, I felt I had reached the natural stopping point. My German lines—Simmons, Rexroad, and Arbogast—were no exception. I documented their arrival, noted their early American lives, and moved on. I never imagined that German research would become the area that most profoundly reshaped my thinking. 

My Family Tree with the German Surnames
Simmons, Rexrode, Arbogast, Huffman, Heavener, Moyers, Michael

That shift began several years ago when a fellow genealogist encouraged me to start a German Special Interest Group. I hesitated. Despite having many German surnames on my father’s side, I didn’t consider myself an expert. But he was persistent, and eventually I agreed. That decision changed everything—not only for my research, but for my understanding of what it truly means to study immigrant ancestors.

Preparing to lead others pushed me to take a deeper look at my own German families. I soon discovered that many of them were first‑wave German immigrants, arriving in America in the mid‑1700s. Their origins were vague, their stories incomplete, and their European identities nearly erased by time. Simply identifying the immigrant was no longer enough. I needed to understand where they came from, why they left, and what shaped their lives before America.

This realization led me to tools I had never used before. The Meyers Gazetteer helped me understand historical jurisdictions and pinpoint obscure villages. CompGen opened doors to databases, surname projects, and volunteer‑indexed records. Archion provided access to digitized German church books—records that became the backbone of my breakthroughs. With these resources, I shifted from “finding the immigrant” to “finding the village.”

Meyers Gazetteer

Once I located a village, everything changed. German church records revealed baptisms, marriages, burials, and entire family networks preserved with remarkable precision. My most dramatic success came with the Rexroad line (originally Rexrode/Rexroth). Using these tools, I expanded my family tree back five more generations back to the late 1500s, uncovering more ancestors I never knew existed.

Reckerodt Crest 

Along the way, I learned to read a little German—just enough to recognize key words, months, and church terminology. But even more transformative was discovering how effectively Google Translate and AI tools could help interpret old script, extract meaning, and confirm my translations. What once felt intimidating became manageable, even exciting.

Baptismal Record for Zacharias Rexerodt 

Translation by Chat GPT
February 22   -    Master Balthasar Rexerodt, a citizen and master blacksmith, and his wife Christina, daughter of Bastian..., had a child who was baptised on the 20th of the same month. The child was baptised Zacharias

Leading the German SIG has deepened this transformation. I now see the immigrant not as the end point, but as the bridge between two worlds. The real story begins in the village, in the church records, and in the centuries of life that came before.

What started as hesitation has become one of the most rewarding parts of my genealogical journey. German research didn’t just expand my family tree—it expanded my thinking.

52 Ancestors: Week 9 – Conflicting Clues

 

Lewis Holmes Davis – 1826-1891

My 3x Great Uncle

Lewis H Davis 
12th Illinois Cavalry Co E & Co I

As genealogists, we are often warned that sources don't always agree. We are taught to be skeptical, to cross-reference, and to never take a single document as gospel. But what do you do when an official government record tells you a man died in 1848, yet you find him drawing a pension for a war that didn’t even begin until 1861? This was the paradox of my 3x great-granduncle, Lewis Holms Davis.

The mystery didn't start with Lewis. It began with a search for his father, my 3^rd great-grandfather, Joel Davis. I was searching for evidence of Joel’s death, but the trail in Erie County, New York, was cold—no death records, no probate files, and not even a marriage record for him and Deborah Stephens.

Faced with this brick wall, I pivoted to their eight children, specifically Lewis Holms Davis, the third of eight. I quickly found a Mexican War enlistment document for Lewis. He was described as 21 years old, born in Erie County, New York, with hazel eyes and brown hair, working as a butcher. He enlisted on September 7, 1846, at Detroit, Michigan. However, the records delivered a devastating blow: a muster roll from late 1847 reported that he had "Died Oct — 47 at Perote," while another return stated he died October 1847. For most, that would be the end of the line.

Mexican War Enlistments - Left half
Lewis Davis - highlighted in yellow
Fold3, Registers of Enlistmen in the United States Army, 1789-1914

Mexican War Enlistments - right half
Lewis listed as Died - Oct '47 at Perote, Mexico
Fold3, Registers of Enlistmen in the United States Army, 1789-1914

While digging through Virgil D. White’s Index to Mexican War Pension Files, I stumbled upon an entry that defied logic: DAVIS, Lewis H., SA-20383, 24 Sep 1888, Kansas. The entry noted service in Co A 6th US Infantry and a certificate for service in Co I 12th IL Vol Cav during the Civil War.

How could a man who reportedly died in 1847 while fighting in the Mexican War draw a pension for the Civil War forty years later? The "official" death record from the Mexican War was in direct conflict with a later pension application. To sort out the truth, I sent for the full pension file.

The file contained an affidavit that acted as a master key, unlocking the family’s true history. In his own hand, Lewis corrected the "static" of the earlier records:

• The Mexican War Reality: Lewis explained he was in a hospital at Perote from May until September 1847. After leaving there to join his regiment, he was taken prisoner between Perote and "Publo" (Puebla) and sent to  "Atalisco" (Atlixco) in the interior for about four weeks. He was eventually paroled under oath and made his way back to Detroit, Michigan, by September 1, 1849. This explains why Army clerks, seeing him vanish from hospital rolls while in enemy hands, simply marked him as deceased.
• The Fate of Joel Davis: Lewis provided the breakthrough I had been seeking for his father. He stated his father, Joel H. Davis, died on August 23, 1835.

Lewis H. Davis personal Affidavit in Pension File
National Archives, Record Group 15 (Department of Veteran Affairs), survivor's pension (Mexican War),
app #20,383; invalid pension (Civil War), app #773,398, cet #525,428, widow's pension, app #529,056,
cert #391,526

• A Mother’s Trail: His mother, Deborah Davis, was living in Detroit when she applied for and received a Bounty Land Warrant in 1848 since Lewis had no wife, no children and his father had died, his mother received the Bounty Land Warrant for his service.
• Civil War Service: Lewis detailed his service in the "War of the Rebellion" from December 28, 1863, until August 8, 1865, in Co E 12th Illinois Cavalry. An 1888 document from the Adjutant General's Office confirmed that previous charges of desertion had been removed, and he was officially discharged in August 1865.

Letter from the War Department dismissing charges of dissertion.
National Archives, Record Group 15 (Department of Veteran Affairs), survivor's pension (Mexican War),
app #20,383; invalid pension (Civil War), app #773,398, cet #525,428, widow's pension, app #529,056,
cert #391,526

Lewis provided a chronological itinerary of his life, moving from New York to Detroit to Chicago, then to Montgomery Co., Iowa (Sciola), and through various Kansas locations: Nemaha Co. (Seneca), Morris Co. (White City), and finally Dwight. He died September 25, 1891, in Leavenworth Military Hospital, Leavenworth County, Kansas and was buried at Leavenworth National Cemetery.

        LEWIS DAVIS 
 US Army  -  September 25, 1891
Find A Grave, Memorial 561392, photo by Steve McCray

·        The conflict was finally resolved. The 1847 "death" was a clerical error, a common occurrence when a soldier was missing in action or hospitalized in a chaotic foreign theater. Lewis was very much alive, surviving the Mexican War to serve again in the Civil War before settling in Kansas. He even noted with some dry wit that he "never received only two months pay for Service in the Mexican War," which he received at Veracruz in early 1847.

This case serves as a poignant reminder to all researchers: when records point in different directions, the most detailed, first-hand account must be our guide. By refusing to accept an "official" death at face value, I didn't just find a soldier; I resurrected the missing pieces of my Davis family tree. 

The pension file of Lewis H. Davis did not only solve the problem of conflicting evidence; it provided the long-sought death date of his father, Joel H. Davis. With that vital information in hand, I was finally able to provide the necessary proof to apply for and be accepted into the Mayflower Society. Lewis H. Davis may have been "dead" to the War Department in 1847, but his 1888 pension file gave him—and my family history—the final, triumphant word.