I had not heard of Julie Bowen before the advertising for the new season started. The teaser for her episode said that she would investigate family lore and learn about two ancestors cut from very different cloth. One made a daring choice and earned his family's pride. Bowen was going to need to find a way to forgive the other.
The opening shot told us we were in Los Angeles, and the view looked to be from the Hollywood hills. Bowen is in her home making guacamole, which even she admits is "so California." For her intro she sits on a stool in a room in her house. She was born in Baltimore as Julie Bowen Luetkemeyer (what? that's not a good name for a marquee?). Her mother is from the Midwest and always told her and her sisters to go outside and play in the fresh air and sunshine, so being naturally dramatic the girls created plays in the back yard. Bowen always knew she wanted to be an actor.
Bowen moved to New York to realize her dream and went through lots of auditions. Her significant roles have been on Ed (2000–2004), Boston Legal (2005–2008), and Modern Family (2009–present) (none of which I have seen, which apparently is why I didn't know who she was; her Wikipedia page mentions that she appeared on an episode of Jeopardy!, which I think is pretty cool). She feels lucky to have her career and loves what she does. She shot the pilot for Modern Family while she was pregnant with twins, who were born on the day the show was picked up for production. She says that was when her life changed, and her family suddenly became the most important thing in the world to her (um, why didn't that happen when her older son was born?).
Bowen's parents are John Alexander Luetkemeyer, Jr. and Suzanne Frey. She wants to learn about one ancestor on each side of her family. On her father's side, her father's grandmother, Granny LeMoyne, said they had an ancestor whose home was a stop on the Underground Railroad. On her mother's side, she knows that her great-grandfather Charles Daniel "Big Charlie" Frey was an illustrator for the Chicago Post. He died before she was born, but she visited his apartment once and was impressed by how glamorous it was, with smoked mirrors, a black and white marble floor, and two grand pianos.
While Bowen talks about her ancestors, several photos and home movies are shown. Unlike a lot of the celebrities who have appeared on this program, it seems that the Luetkemeyer family has no shortage of images of its ancestors, which is wonderful.
In the now-standard foreshadowing part of the intro, Bowen says that history is history and she doesn't want to claim any Nazis or slave owners. It would be incredibly sad to find out she had those in her family, but if it's true she wants to know. History is important because we repeat it if we don't know about it. (True!)
Bowen starts with her mother's side of the family. Her mom has sent Big Charlie's obituary, which was published November 12, 1959 in the Chicago Tribune.
|"Charles Frey, Ad Executive, Dies at Age 73", Chicago Daily Tribune, November 12, 1959, page W13|
Charlie was born in Denver, Colorado and was 73 years old when he died. Bowen is looking forward to learning more about him because he's the other "artist" in the family. No one else was as exotic or exciting. Because Charlie died in Chicago, that's where she's going to start finding out about him (of course).
In Chicago, Bowen heads to the School of the Art Institute of Chicago (identified by the "SAIC" on the outside of the building). She tells us she sent the information she knew about Big Charlie to a genealogist, who told her to meet there. The genealogist in question is Jeanne Larzalere Bloom, CG, whom Bowen asks why Charlie would have gone to Chicago from Denver, where he was born. Bloom immediately says they should look on Ancestry.com (these plugs are geting more and more obnoxious in their heavyhandedness; this was 7 minutes into the episode). She adds that normally one would search in the closest census but that they'll have to search in the 1900 census, because the 1890 census was burned.
(I am flabbergasted that a Certified Genealogist would state this inaccurate information. She must know that the greatest part of the loss of the 1890 census came about due to the paper being waterlogged after the fire and left to become moldy. I can't think of any reason that someone on the production crew would require her to say it was burned. On the other hand, Ancestry.com used to have an article on its site titled "A Fire Destroyed the 1890 Census, but It Doesn't Have to Destroy Your Search", so maybe an Ancestry rep asked her to phrase it that way? The article, by the way, is no longer on the Ancestry site, but this 2008 blog post might be close to it in content.)
So Bowen somehow finds the search page for the 1900 census and enters "Charles Daniel" for First and Middle Name(s), "Frey" for Last Name, "1886" for Birth Year, and "Denver, Denver County, Colorado" for Birth Location, with Exact Search turned off. Big surprise, she finds Charles "Frye": born November 1886 in Colorado, living in Denver, Arapahoe County, Colorado (first hit on the page, no less).
|United States 1900 Federal Population Census, Precinct 7, Denver City, Arapahoe County, Colorado,|
June 4, 1900, Enumeration District 70, page 3B, lines 73–82
After clicking through to see the image, Bowen comments on the spelling of the last name as "Frye." Bloom responds that the census taker probably spelled the name phonetically. (That's not the best explanation. If that were the case, it more likely would have been spelled "Fry", not "Frye.") Bowen then proceeds to read all the information on the form, which is nice to see. The two women note that Charlie's father, Daniel, was born in New York and that Daniel's parents were born in Germany (but don't mention that Charlie's mother's parents were from Ireland, so it must not be relevant for the episode). There's also a comment about Daniel being a plumber and Charlie's "humble beginnings", with nothing said about the fact that Daniel did own his home, nothing to sneeze at in 1900. (Also not mentioned were the twins in the Frey family, the 11-year-old brothers Harvey and Harry, born in December 1888. Maybe twins run in the family?)
So why did Charlie go to Chicago? No hard facts or documentation is available, but Bloom says that if Charlie wanted to be an artist, his opportunities would have been limited in Denver. The places to go would be Chicago or New York. And Charlie was in Chicago by 1908, as evidenced by his appearance in the city directory (which is not online anywhere, unfortunately). He is listed as Charles D. Frey, artist Post h Ill Athl Club. Bloom explains that Post was his employer, i.e., the Chicago Post, and "h" means home, so he was living at the Illinois Athletic Club.
Suddenly the significance of meeting at the Art Institute of Chicago is made clear: This very building used to be the Illinois Athletic Club. The room in which Bowen and Bloom are sitting was the main dining room, and Bloom points out a stained glass window with "I A C" in the pattern.
Bloom explains that in the early 20th century, men's clubs were a big thing. You could dine and exercise where you lived, and they were outstanding places for networking. It was the perfect place to be if you were trying to make your mark. It wasn't cheap, however. In 1908 the membership fee was $100, about equivalent to $2,500 today. At the same time, the average hourly wage in publishing was 42¢/hour. Bowen says that the fact that Charlie made joining the club a priority (which is an assumption on her part) meant that he was an up and comer and was making his career a priority.
Charlie's obituary said that he started his ad agency in 1910, only two years after he was living in the club. He was young but ambitious.
Bloom takes out a book, Selected Writings of Elbert Hubbard. The book has an entry for Charles Daniel Frey, which Bloom says was written about 1912:
|Selected Writings of Elbert Hubbard, Volume 10: Hundred-Point Men,|
New York: Wm. H. Wise & Co., 1922, page 380
The piece about Charlie runs for four and a half pages. It reads a lot like a puff piece in a county history or "mug book", but more sycophantic. It would be interesting to see how the original writings from which these were selected were put together.
Bloom produces a print ad from Charlie's ad agency for Bowen to look at. It's very art deco. (This is the poster that was shown.) They talk about how Charlie helped transform advertising from merely showing a product to suggesting a future lifestyle. He was a poster boy for the American dream.
Bowen says that Charlie's obituary said that he had served in World War I. Bloom points her to Ancestry again and says she should start with the draft registration.
Bowen reads everything on the card, as she did with the 1900 census, but nothing is said (at least not on air) about the birthdate Charlie supplied, which was October 1988, two years off of that on the census. Charlie said that he had a wife and two children, and Bowen comments that one of them was her grandfather. She then hits the line where Charlie claimed a draft exemption because he had dependent relatives and judicial service. She wants to know what that service was.
In another blow against good dialogue, Bloom tells Bowen she should go to Newspapers.com (plug alert! plug alert! Ancestry.com product being featured!) and "see if [she] can figure out what's going on in 1917." (I hope we can blame the show's writers; I'd hate to think that Bloom came up with that on her own.) For her search terms Bowen uses Charlie's full name, Charles Daniel Frey, and restricts the search to Chicago in 1917. When she clicks on the result the name of the paper is not stated, but it's the Chicago Tribune again, for August 25, 1917. (They couldn't show Charlie's obituary on Newspapers.com, because the site has the Tribune only up to 1922, the end of the public domain period. After that, you need to have access to the ProQuest database.) The article header certainly catches Bowen's eye: "200,000 U. S. Secret Agents Cover Nation."
|"200,000 U. S. Secret Agents Cover Nation", Chicago Daily Tribune, August 25, 1917, page 1|
The article is about the American Protective League. Charlie's name does appear, as the head of the League's Chicago division. Based on information in the article, he was claiming exemption from the draft based on his work with the Secret Service. But what exactly was the American Protective League, and what were they doing? Bloom defers answering that question herself and tells Bowen she should speak to a historian who specializes in that topic.
As she leaves, Bowen talks about the kinship she feels with Charlie. He worked at the intersection of art and commerce. Creative types such as Bowen and Charlie push the envelope and are outside the norm. But Charlie wasn't a government man, so something is missing in the story she has learned so far. She needs to find out what the American Protective League (APL) was.
Bowen's next visit is to the Pritzker Military Museum & Library, just one block from SAIC. The historian who talks to her there is Christopher Capozzola, a World War I historian at MIT. (We saw him in the Bryan Cranston episode.) He tells her that APL was founded in Chicago at the beginning of World War I as a national voluntary organization. Charlie was involved from the beginning.
When the United States entered the war in April 1917, it was a controversial move, and not everyone agreed with it. There had been sabotage by Germans in the U.S. APL investigated a lot of people, but it was particularly interested in Germans and people of German descent, who were treated as enemy aliens. Aliens were also required to register with the government.
Bowen points out that Frey was of German ancestry. He was the second generation born in the U.S., but all Germans could be considered suspicious. She wonders if he might have had a vested interest in joining APL early, and Capozzola agrees that it would have helped him look even more all-American.
At this point the narrator steps in to explain that Germans were the enemy in our midst. They were told where they could live and work. The American Protective League worked with police to keep tabs on Germans. During Frey's tenure, APL rounded up more than 10,000 Germans and interned them in detention camps. Many internees were not released until after the war was over. The graphics playing during this segment included a man listed as "Henkel Arnold" in what looked like a mug shot.
Capozzola explains that a lot of things APL did are now not constitutional: tapping phones, getting information from banks. APL was a citizen surveillance army, and the largest chapter was in Chicago. The League created a soapbox for Frey's patriotism, who could use his advertising skills to sell domestic fear. To Bowen, this sounds like mob mentality, and it frightens her.
Capozzola concedes the organization is a dark chapter of U.S. history, but he has found a few documents relating to Charlie. The first thing he shows Bowen is a photograph of the American Protective League National Headquarters, with Charlie standing in front of the building. He is wearing a military-type uniform. Bowen thinks he looks like a jerk, but she admits her grandfather looks just like him. She wonders about the military-style garb, and Capozzola says he has another document to show her.
This document is a two-page letter on APL letterhead, dated March 22, 1918 (the one-year anniversary of the founding of APL). I was able to transcribe most of it; I've put in dashes where I couldn't read the text or sections were not shown on screen.
March 22nd, 1918
Captain Chas. Daniel Frey,
1537 "I" Street, N.W.,
One year ago today [——]
[—] the formation of the American [Protective League ——]
[three lines I could not read]
build this [——]
As an American [——]
you built the first efficient company in the [—]
of your success as a Company Commander you were made [—]
the Chicago Division, and in that office you built the most efficient American Protective League division in the League and made of it a model on which we are still building all other divisions.
Because of your success as Chief of the Chicago division, you were made a National Director and I congratulate you on the excellent work you are now doing in helping to bring all other divisions of the League up to the standard of the Chicago division, as well as the other and even more important work you are now so efficiently handling as National Director.
At great personal sacrifice you have given your all to your country in your unselfish and untiring work for the Leagueand [sic] in the name of the League and its 250,000 members I extend to you their thanks and appreciation.
Yours very truly,
A. M. Briggs [signature]
Chairman, National Directors
|Charles Daniel Frey, A. M. Briggs, and|
Victor Elting (left to right), National Directors,
American Protective League
Charlie is addressed as "Captain" in the letter, which Capozzola only addresses in passing, but this page says that was commissioned as an Army captain. Bowen reads parts of the letter, particularly focusing on the "other and even more important work" Charlie was credited as doing. Capozzola points out that Charlie had moved to Washington, D.C. and was one of the most important people on the home front in the U.S. at this time. He thought he was doing good work. But what exactly was he doing? As stated in the letter, APL had about 250,000 members in 1918, and everyone reported up the chain, so he was monitoring the efforts of the entire organization.
Bowen wonders why we don't hear about the American Protective League nowadays. Capozzola says that it became a lightning rod of controversy. Ordinary people were interrogated over the slightest things. There was a backlash, and some people started pushing back, asking the APL members who they were to question things and just what kind of country the U.S. was becoming. In late 1918 Congress debated the situation. It eventually shut down APL but increased funding for the Bureau of Investigation, the precursor organization to the Federal Bureau of Investigation. APL became a forgotten chapter in American history.
Bowen then goes off about how someone is villainized in every war and people act unconstitutionally. Currently the anti-Muslim sentiment in the country follows the same pattern. She finds it more than a little disturbing that her ancestor was involved in this, but she would rather know it than not. She hopes it helps start a conversation about the situation.
Leaving Pritzker, Bowen says that it's ok that families have dark corners. Learning about Charlie doesn't determine who she is. People need to look at history, but it's scary that mistakes are forgotten so quickly. If people don't look, they are doomed to repeat the errors. As a society, we need to remember that this happened and learn from it.
Now that she's learned about an interesting ancestor on her mother's side of the family, it's time to turn to her father's side. She had asked her father if he had anything to share. Bowen reads (most of) his response aloud from her mobile phone.
"My side of the family"
I hear from Mom and others that you are getting enlightened on our ancestors on the Frey side of the family, so I thought I would throw in a few words on my side of the family. The first name that comes to mind is the Lemoyne's [sic]. My grandmother, Granny Lemoyne, whose real name was Romaine LeMoyne, before marrying my grandfather, Austin McLanahan, was the real matriarch when I was growing up. Her father's name was John Valcoulon LeMoyne, and his father was Francis Julius LeMoyne. They were from Washington, Pennsylvania so you may want to start there.
I miss you XO
Bowen remembers having heard the LeMoyne names before. The family lore is that Francis LeMoyne was some kind of doctor and that he had been involved with the Underground Railroad. She hadn't wanted to check on it previously in case it turned out not to be true. It's been nice to believe the story. She doesn't know anything else about the story and decides (i.e., was told) she should go to Washington, Pennsylvania to find out more.
In Washington Bowen goes to the Washington County Historical Society. Over a door inside the building is a sign: "LEARN FROM HISTORY Or Be CONDEMNED TO REPEAT IT." With that as a reminder of the theme for this episode, Bowen sits down to talk with Dr. Erica Armstrong Dunbar of the University of Delaware. Dunbar starts out by saying that the "Washington Historical Society" has a lot of documents about the LeMoyne family because the building is the family's former home. The two women are sitting in the former apothecary. Francis LeMoyne was indeed a physician/surgeon, and he ran his practice out of his home.
Then Dunbar tells Bowen that some of the documents are fragile, so Bowen will have to wear gloves. (No!! If the documents are really that fragile, using gloves means you lose most of your tactile sensitivity, which is worse for the documents. Oh, bother.) Dunbar then brings out a large certificate. At the top is printed "American Anti-Slavery Society Commission."
You have been appointed and are hereby commissioned, by the Executive Committee of the American Anti-Slavery Society, instituted at Philadelphia in 1833, as their Agent for the space of Twelve months commencing with 20 day of December 1837.
The purpose of this Commission is to authorize you to deliver, in the name of the American Anti-Slavery Society, public lectures and addresses in support of the principles and measures set forth in its Constitution and Declaration of Sentiments.
Given at the Secretary's office No. 143 Rassan[?] Street, New York, this 12 day of December in the year of our Lord eighteen hundred and thirty seven.
partial image of LeMoyne's commission paper
Bowen is very excited — her ancestor was an abolitionist! She has never heard of the society before. Dunbar explains it was the first national society calling for the end of slavery. LeMoyne signed up in the society's early days.
As an agent and lecturer, LeMoyne would have helped share the society's stand that not only should slavery end, there should be no compensation for slave owners and people should boycott Southern goods, such as cotton and sugar. His goal would have been to educate people through his lectures, in the north and the south. Bowen is surprised that he would have traveled to the south and asks if it would have been dangerous. Dunbar confirms that it was: Abolition was still considered a radical idea, and when this commission was given, the country was still 27 years away from outlawing slavery. Bowen asks what inspired LeMoyne to become an abolitionist. Dunbar doesn't have an answer for LeMoyne specifically but says that she believes that for most people it came from within themselves.
Bowen wants to know more about how LeMoyne would have traveled for his lectures. Would he just get on a horse and go? Dunbar says he wouldn't have gone alone, because there were great risks to antislavery speakers. They could be tarred and feathered, and some were killed for speaking.
The historical society has several oral histories that detail what the townspeople said about LeMoyne. Dunbar brings out two very yellowed typed pages and says it's a copy. Bowen reads most of the second paragraph transcribed below.
Starting in 1841 the abolitionist party in Washington county had a complete ticket every year for county offices and for governor. In 1841 Dr LeMoyne was the candidate for governor, polling 85 votes in the county. In 1843 he was a candidate for Congress receiving 410 votes. Erichsen
For a long time the abolitionists did not dare to hold their meetings in any public places. One of the most popular places to hold them was the side yard of the LeMoyne place. This was the most natural place for them as the lecturers were entertained by Dr. and Mrs. LeMoyne. On one occasion a large crowd gathered in a threatening manner in front of the house. The Abolitionist[s] were gathered in the garden. Dr. LeMoyne took his son John up to the little balcony which used to be reached from the attic on the front of the house. Here Dr. John Julius LeMoyne kept his bee=hives under the front eaves, and here on pleasant evenings the old Doctor was to be found playing his flute and admiring his bees. On the evening Dr. LeMoyne told his son, young John: "If those people try to break up the meeting just throw one of these bee-hives into their midst." The young man had the advantage and angry though they were the crowd was forced to disperse.
On another occasion the meeting was in progress in another place but was threatened so violently that the speaker was forced to seek refuge at the LeMoyne home where he was staying. Mrs. Le Moyne herself was his guide through back yards and over fences. The route was so devious that it took about a half hour to arrive. It was on this occasion, perhaps, that Mrs. LeMoyne's white bonnet was spotted with the egg missiles.
For the last thirty years of the Doctor's life he was unable to rest in his bed at night, but sat upright in a large easy chair which he kept in his office.
LeMoyne Institute was founded about 1871. Erichsen
Bowen pauses when she reads the name of Dr. John LeMoyne and says that she named her son John after this part of the family. Dunbar points out that this Dr. LeMoyne was the father of Francis Julius LeMoyne, and Bowen realizes John LeMoyne was her 4x-great-grandfather.
After Bowen finishes reading the paragraph, the women discuss just what was happening. Dr. John LeMoyne had told his son to throw a beehive into the angry crowd to protect the people who were at the meeting, so he must have been an abolitionist also. Dunbar says that John the son did throw the beehive, but I'm not sure that's clear from the text.
Bowen is stunned that this happened in Pennsylvania, which she thought no longer had slavery by that time. Dunbar explains that slavery in Pennsylvania was almost but not quite gone. (The account is undated, but Pennsylvania did not fully free all slaves until 1847.) Even though it was almost gone, there was obviously still great animosity about the matter.
It occurs to Bowen that freed slaves would have been part of society. Dunbar confirms this and adds that fugitives would have been there also. Many people were concerned that these fugitives were in competition for their jobs. This sets off Bowen, who talks about people who feel threatened by "others" who are different from them. It sounds old and new at the same time, and she sees parallels in today's society. Dunbar says that Francis LeMoyne fought against that type of thinking and said he "will not agree to the moral bankruptcy of slavery."
The discussion of fugitives brings Dunbar to show another document; she says that this letter and the other documents are all copies. (But if that's the case, why bother with the conservator gloves?)
Altho, unacquainted with you personally, I feel it my duty to acquaint you (confidentially) of a circumstance which transpired here this morning, trusting my information may save a brother man from slavery.
Mr. McClean, former editor of the Argus, of Wheeling, Va., was in my office this — Wednesday — morning, & in conversation enquired who was U. S. Commissioner in Washington, Pa. I did not know — He said "I suppose if you did you wouldn't tell me, as one of our citizens wants to seize a slave of his there "?" He wouldn't tell me who the master was, but I feel it my duty to warn you that if there is no US Com. there the "master" will soon be there himself, in search ——
Please put your colored folks on their guard, especially fugitives from the neighborhood of Wheeling, Va. The bloodhounds are on the scent. . .
J. Heron Foster
An interesting thing about this letter is that I found a published transcription of it, but it differs from what was shown on the program. I was able to read and transcribe the entire letter as shown on screen, so I'm confused about the differences. In addition to differences in punctuation, the published version has an extra sentence between the end of the program's version of the letter and the closing. I wonder if the original of this letter even still exists, whereby someone could verify what it truly said.
|F. J. LeMoyne et al., "Anti-Slavery Letters of Dr. F. J. LeMoyne, of Washington, Pennsylvania",|
The Journal of Negro History 18:4 (October 1933), pages 466–467.
This letter confirms that LeMoyne was part of a community engaged in helped enslaved people find freedom. The "colored folks" referred to in the letter would be both escaped slaves (fugitives) and free persons of color. Even someone who had never been a slave could be taken and then enslaved. Dunbar says that this letter (which is also undated) was written after 1850 and passage of the Fugitive Slave Law, which gave slave owners permission to cross state lines to recover their escaped slaves.
The narrator gives a more detailed explanation of the so-called "Bloodhound Law", given that name because slave owners literally used bloodhounds to try to track down runaways. The Fugitive Slave Act of 1850 required that escaped slaves be returned to their owners, even if they were in free states. The U.S. Commissioners determined who was a former slave, but they did so without benefit of trials or defense. The blacks who were caught were not permitted to speak on their own behalf. Citizens were pressured to turn in not only fugitives, but also anyone suspected of helping fugitives.
Dunbar says that because it was a federal law, even assisting someone was a crime. You could be sent to jail and fined. Being caught could ruin you. Bowen gets herself in high dudgeon again, realizing that neighbors were encouraged to rat out neighbors, as at other times in history.
For someone like LeMoyne, who was well placed in society, to help and to put himself and his family at risk was a strong statement. Considering the commission from the American Anti-Slavery Society, the abolitionist meetings held at his house, and how he was a known contact to help fugutives, Dunbar concedes that it is safe to say LeMoyne was part of the Underground Railroad. Bowen is thrilled and squeals, "So great!" She is proud to have him in the family.
Bowen wonders if the LeMoyne home is comparable to Anne Frank's situation. Dunbar says that fugitives were harbored in the home. LeMoyne helped people gain employment and shuttled others further north. His son appeared to have been in the middle of it. Bowen says she likes to think she would have done the same thing in the same situation but admits she doesn't really know if she could.
Bowen asks again why LeMoyne would do what he did. Dunbar can't help but think that maybe he was modeling the behavior and bravery of the fugitive slaves who escaped and made it north. Bowen sees the same fight going on; LeMoyne chose a side and stood up against the federal government in the face of adversity. She cries as she says it's good to have heroes.
She then asks Dunbar when LeMoyne died, which was in 1879. He lived long enough to see Emancipation and the abolition of slavery. (He also lived long enough to see the failure and dismantling of Reconstruction, but that wasn't brought up.)
In the wrap-up, Bowen describes how she was shocked to see the documentation about LeMoyne, even though she had heard the stories from family members. She compares LeMoyne's world to modern society, where moral questions are being asked. She's proud of her 3x-great-grandfather, who had the courage of his convictions. (I presume she's also proud of her 4x-great-grandfather, who was also involved in the abolitionist movement, based on what we saw.)
Bowen is glad she looked at both sides of her family. On the one side she found an abolitionist who stood up for people who had no rights. On the other side was Charlie and his participation in the American Protective League. He apparently felt the need to do what felt right to him, which was to protect citizens by violating others' constitutional rights (which smacks mightily of rationalization to me). She plans to share the information she has learned about LeMoyne, who made hard choices. She wants to forgive Charlie and his misguided actions as much as she wants to congratulate LeMoyne. But both are family, and you have to love family. You learn from them and try to do better.
Now that we've learned more about Big Charlie, the profile written by Elbert Hubbard becomes particularly interesting. Hubbard was the founder of Roycroft, an arts and crafts community. Check out the "Religious and political beliefs" section on his Wikipedia page. Considering the kind of man Hubbard was, I suspect that he profiled people he actually respected and that the pieces were not pay to play or designed to curry favor. He might not have written such a complimentary piece about Charlie if he had known the activities Charlie was going to be engaged in. He died in 1915, so he never saw what Charlie became.