52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks - Week 20: Wheels

This week in 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks, Amy Johnson Crow asks us to post about wheels in our family history.

In the spring of 1850, my great-great granduncle Major W. Packard set out from Bloomington, Illinois, with a wagon train to the gold fields of California -- to Sutter's Mill.  No, he was not going to pan for gold.  His purpose was simple curiosity, as he wanted to observe and write about the people who were attracted by the possibility of becoming rich by coaxing shiny little flakes out of streams.

He made some sharp observations about the gold-attracted:  "Now it is the nature of such news that the further it travels, the bigger it gets, and the more wonderful.  So it is not strange that when the news of the discovery reached us in the then border states, the size of the sand-like particles really found in that far-off, insignificant mill-race, had increased to very respectable nuggets."

On setting out from St. Joseph, Missouri, Wellman (as he's known in the family) observed other wagon trains preparing, in his opinion inadequately, for what was to come.  "[V]ery many started out without the necessary preparation, and suffered the penalty of their want of foresight in much suffering and unnecessary hardship and privation."

At one point along the journey, the travelers encountered one of the enormous buffalo herds that once roamed the plains, this one in full stampede and "bearing down directly upon us in fine style, causing no little apprehension for our safety."   Men from the wagon train, mounted on every horse in the party's possession, rode out with screams and gunfire aimed so as to frighten, not harm, the beasts.  They concentrated their attention on the patriarch buffalo leading the herd, and managed to turn the herd so that it avoided the wagons and their human population.  As the herd turned, and the rear of the huge long line reached the mounted men, a designated few set after them with firearms, and brought back two tender specimens to furnish a celebratory feast.

 A different sort of wheels played a big part in my mother's family, the Reeds of Logansport, Indiana.  Francis Harvey Reed, my maternal great-grandfather, was a conductor for the Pittsburgh, Cincinnati, Chicago, and St. Louis line, known by the nickname "Panhandle Route."  The line was part of the Pennsylvania Railroad system.  

My grandfather, Benjamin Franklin Reed was a switchman in the Wabash yard in Detroit, Michigan.  He was hit by a yard engine in October of 1917, and died, leaving his wife with three small children.  My mother was not yet a year old when she lost her father.

Perry Wilmer Reed and his wife Mary LeSourd adopted my mother after her father died.  Perry was a general freight agent with the Pennsylvania System, based in Chicago.  He was licensed to practice before the Interstate Commerce Commission, representing his employer.  In 1920, he moved the family to Pensacola, Florida, where he became the general freight agent for the Gulf, Florida, and Alabama Railway.

My husband's grandfather, Andrew Lewis Rhodes, was a conductor for the Pullman Company.  He lived in Jacksonville, Florida, and covered routes all over the state.  When my husband was a little boy, he would from time to time ride with grandpa on the train.

 References:

Packard, Major Wellman.  Early Emigration to California, 1849-1850. (Fairfield, Washington: Ye Galleon Press; reprint of the original, 1971). 

You can read more about my railroad Reeds in my post from last year, 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks - Week 28: Trains

"Employee's Statement of Compensated Service," (Form AA-15), dated Nov. 19, 1938, Andrew Lewis Rhodes pension file, Social Security Number (redacted for security reasons); National Archives Record Group 184: Records of the Railroad Retirement Board, 1934- ; RRB--Congressional Inquiry Section, Chicago, Illinois, United States.

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks -- Week 28 -- Trains

 First, a note.  I apologize for not keeping up with my blog in recent weeks.  Other matters intervened.  I'm going to post the current 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks and I am also going to try to catch up on the past 8 weeks of this series, as there are some topics Amy Johnson Crow had selected for those "lost" weeks of mine that interest me quite a bit.

Trains also interest me, as my great-grandfather Francis Harvey "Frank" Reed and a few of his 8 sons were railroad men, including my grandfather Benjamin Franklin Reed and my granduncle Perry Wilmer Reed.

Francis Harvey Reed was a conductor for the Pittsburgh, Cincinnati, Chicago, and St. Louis Railway Line.  That name was such a mouthful, apparently, that most people referred to it as the Panhandle Line.  This line was part of the Pennsylvania Railroad, handling the bulk of Pennsy traffic to the west of Pennsylvania.  The name Panhandle was used by the Pennsylvania Railroad to identify a group of its smaller lines, including the one currently under discussion.(1)

Perry Wilmer Reed worked also for the Pennsylvania Railroad, on their Union Line, based in Chicago as a freight agent from about 1907 to about 1920.  He was enrolled to argue cases before the Interstate Commerce Commission, representing his railroad in these matters.(2)  By 1920 he and his wife and their children Robert, Elizabeth, and Martha, had relocated to Pensacola, Florida, where he worked for the Gulf, Florida, and Alabama Railway.(3)

Benjamin Franklin Reed, also known as "Frank," was a switchman on the Wabash Railroad, working in the yard at Detroit, Michigan.(4)  He was killed by being hit by a rail yard donkey engine.  His death certificate cites the cause of death as "crushing injuries to head." (5)

My husband's family also has a railroad connection.  His grandfather, Andrew Lewis Rhodes, was a Pullman conductor.  Andrew Rhodes started his railroad career in 1903 as a clerk-messenger for the United States Express Company.(6)  He worked for them in various offices in the upper Midwest until 1912, when he became a conductor for the Pullman Company.  He relocated to Jacksonville, Florida and worked as a Pullman conductor until he retired in 1952.(7)

(1)  Burns, Adam.  "Pennsylvania, Cincinnati, Chicago, and St. Louis Line: 'The Panhandle Route.'" Online: American Rails.com

(2)  Robert Reed, "Little Man," Pensacola History Illustrated, Vol. 1, No. 4 (Winter, 1985), 27-32.

(3)  Letter from Perry Reed to his wife Mary, written on Gulf, Florida, and Alabama Railway letterhead with "Perry Reed, General Freight Agent" on it.  Private Papers of M. K. and K.L. Rhodes.

(4) "Engine Kills a Switchman," Logansport (Indiana) Pharos-Reporter, 22 October 1917, 3.

(5)  State of Michigan, Department of State, Division of Vital Statistics.  Death Certificate, Benjamin Franklin Reed, Registered Number 10695.

(6)  "Record of Employee's Prior Service," (Form AA-2P), filed 27 May 1941.  Andrew Lewis Rhodes pension file; Social Security Number [redacted].  National Archives Record Group 184: Records of the Railroad Retirement Board, 1934--; RRB Congressional Inquiry Service, Chicago, Illinois.

(7)  "Application for Employee Annuity Under the Railroad Retirement Act," (Form AA-1), filed 25 July 1952.  Andrew Lewis Rhodes pension file; Social Security Number [redacted].  National Archives Record Group 184: Records of the Railroad Retirement Board, 1934--; RRB Congressional Inquiry Service, Chicago, Illinois.

A to Z Challenge 2024 - Professionally Speaking - P is for Pullman Conductor

I'm jumping in this entry from my family to the family of my husband, Keys Rhodes, to his grandfather Andrew Lewis Rhodes (1882-1966), who began as a Pullman Conductor in June of 1912, and ended that career in retirement in September of  1952.  

He was born 23 September 1882 in Morgantown, Pike County, Ohio, son of Samuel H. Rhoades and Ida May Dewey.  It was during Andrew Rhodes's lifetime that the spelling of the familial surname was changed, for reasons unknown.  Andrew Rhodes spelled the surname both ways in his Railroad Retirement paperwork, finally settling on the spelling we all bear today.  I knew the Rhodes family from church since I was 7 years old, when Keys and I first met.  Andrew Rhodes had a wonderful thick head of pure-white hair in his later years.  He died 12 March 1966, while Keys and I were in college.

He began his railroad career in February of 1903 as a clerk for United States Express Company, a freight delivery company that operated from 1854 to 1914.  He alternated between Clerk and Messenger in Ohio until June of 1912, at which time he signed on with Pullman as a conductor and was assigned to Jacksonville, Florida.  Early on, he served in the Tampa area, and that is where he met Della Mae Marshall of Lakeland.  They were married in Lakeland on October 14, 1918.(1)  A year later, almost to the day, their son L. Marshall Rhodes was born in Tampa.  Their movements can be traced to Jacksonville around 1922 by an Abstract of Title for a period from 3 November 1922 to 26 March 1928.(2)  Their daughter, Della Mae Rhodes, Jr., was born 12 February 1925 in Jacksonville.  The family remained in Jacksonville.

(1) Andrew Lewis Rhodes, Railroad Retirement File. United States of America, Railroad Retirement Board, copy conveyed by letter to M. Keys Rhodes dated 11 July 2006.

(2) Title & Trust of Florida, Abstract of Title, 3 November 1922-26 March 1928, for Andrew Lewis Rhodes.  Original in possession of Karen Packard Rhodes.

Military Monday: An Unexpected Tradition

 My husband's draft number was about to come up in 1970, and not wanting to go to Viet Nam and not wanting to go to Canada, he signed up for U.S. Coast Guard officer candidate school.  Nearly all Coast Guard personnel who served in Viet Nam volunteered for that duty.  We got married when he completed his officer training, emerging as a newly-hatched ensign with a reserve commission.  Later on, when I saw what fun he was having in his many and varied assignments, I said I wanted to sign up, too.  I had a desire to serve our country since I was 10 years old, squashed by the ridiculous objections of a too-traditonal family.  I was finally able to fulfill that desire.  So both of us ended up in the Coast Guard Reserve.

We thought my husband was the first in his family to serve in that branch of service.  However, when my father-in-law died in 2004, my husband went through his papers and found a surprise.

During World War II, there were two types of Coast Guard reservists:  the Regular Reserve and the Temporary Reserve.  The Temporary Reserve consisted of both paid and volunteer personnel, serving only for the duration of the war or any part of it.  They provided coastal patrol and port security personnel.(1)

The surprise was that not only my husband's father(2), but also his grandfather(3) had served in the Temporary Reserve of the U.S. Coast Guard.  My husband was not the first to serve in the Coast Guard; he was, in fact, the third member of his family to do so.  It was a proud tradition, indeed.

(1) United States Coast Guard Reserve, "Reserve History," https://www.reserve.uscg.mil/about/history/ (accessed 25 March 2024).

(2) U.S. Coast Guard, Volunteer Port Security Force, letter of 27 September 1944, congratulating VPSF member L. M. Rhodes, Seaman First Class, on his marriage.  Family papers.

(3) U.S Coast Guard, Certificate of Disenrollment as a Temporary Member in the United States Coast Guard Reserve (honorable conditions; without pay), Andrew L. Rhodes, 30 September 1945.  Family papers.

On the Trail of Samuel Rhoades/Rhodes

There is a family legend in my husband's family about his grandfather, Andrew Lewis Rhodes. The tale goes that sometime in the late 1880s or early 1890s, Andrew and his brother Harley were placed in an orphanage by their mother, Ida M. (Dewey) Rhoades/Rhodes. The variations in the spelling of the surname are "explained" in this story, which relates that Andrew was not a good speller as a little boy, and he wrote his name "Rhodes" rather than "Rhoades" upon entering the orphanage. Why the boys were placed in the institution -- located somewhere around Chillicothe, Ohio -- is not revealed in the tale.

The bit about the name spelling seems a bit specious, for a couple of reasons. It is unlikely the child would have signed himself into the orphanage; his mother would have done that. I have no idea what sort of speller Ida was. The second reason this portion of the tale, at least, seems bogus is that in Andrew Lewis Rhodes's Railroad Retirement file, he spells his father's name as "Rhoades" on one document, and "Rhodes" on another. If he was a poor speller as a child, he did not lose the habit as an adult! His own name, however, he consistently signed as "Rhodes."

The photograph at right was found among Andrew Rhodes's effects.  I found it in Andrew's wallet, which we had in a box of other items.  On the back, Andrew identified the seated man as his father, Samuel.  The man standing next to him, with his hand on Samuel's shoulder, is unidentified.  To me, they appear a couple of rough-looking characters.  I cannot determine what the light patch on the standing man's hat is, but I wonder if it was not a police badge or a Pinkerton badge.  I have not been able to find out anything about the circumstances under which this photo was taken.  Were they both cops or private security?  Was the standing man a cop, and is that the hand of an arresting officer on Samuel's shoulder?

This could have a bearing on why the boys were placed in the orphanage.  Ida Dewey Rhoades/Rhodes was apparently alone at that time, with no means of support, and put the boys in the orphanage so they could be cared for.  She subsequently remarried, and Harley, at age 15, is with Ida and her second husband and their own three children, in the 1900 census.   Andrew, who would have been 18 in 1900, has so far not been located in that census, 


Andrew, in his Railroad Retirement file, lists his birthplace as Pike County, Ohio.  In an earlier census, 1870, there is a Samuel Rhoades in the home of his father Levi Rhoades, and not far from this household is a Dewey family with a daughter, Ida M.  My thought is that this is probably Andrew's parents as youngsters.  I need to corroborate that, but have not yet found, for instance, a birth record for Andrew.  It is the right county, however.  I also am on the track o a marriage certificate for a Samuel H. Rhoades and Ida Mary [sic] Dewey, recorded in the Pike County records as microfilmed by the LDS church.  The film is waiting for me at the Jacksonville Public Library, but I have not yet, due to illness, got a chance to view it.  Again, it is the right county, and the right time frame.

Harley Rhoades died in Florida in 1947.  I have found him and his wife in a couple of city directories, as well as seeing his death listed in the Florida death index.  Andrew came to Florida as well, and married in Lakeland.  Later, he came to Jacksonville in the course of his work as a Pullman conductor, and died there in 1966.

Though the trail is obscure, I feel that I am on the track of Samuel H. Rhoades/Rhodes, and will lay him to heel one of these days -- perhaps as the standing man in the photo did so long ago.  That is a story I really want to uncover!
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