"Who Do You Think You Are?" - Jesse Tyler Ferguson

The second episode of this season of Who Do You Think You Are? focused on the family history of actor Jesse Tyler Ferguson.  Not only was this another person I had never heard of, it looks like TLC is working hard on marketing to the gay demographic by having the first two episodes feature celebrities in same-sex marriages.  I don't know if this is a political statement by the network, but it caught my eye.  (And everyone who knows me knows that I don't have a bigoted bone in my body, so don't bother sending hate messages.)

Right from the beginning we know we're on the trail of a con man.  The teaser says that Ferguson will be following his father's family history and an ancestor who was in trouble.

The introduction to Jesse Tyler Ferguson tells us he is an actor on stage and screen but is primarily known for his work on Modern Family (another show I've never watched), which has earned him four Emmy nominations.  He lives with his husband, Justin (Mikita), in the Hollywood hills.

Ferguson's parents are Robert (Bob) Ferguson and Ann Doyle.   They divorced when Ferguson was 18 years old.  Ferguson grew up in Albuquerque, New Mexico, and both of his parents still live there.  He considers his family to be stable, mundane, boring, and with no drama whatsoever.  His parents are strong-willed, which he thinks they passed along to him, and he's a little stubborn.  He was very close to his paternal grandmother Jessie, for whom he was named, and he says she was a great lady and hilarious.  She died six years ago.  He is excited to be researching his father's side of the family.

Ferguson starts his research by visiting his father, who still lives in Albuquerque.  He tells Bob that he wants to find information on his side of the family and about Grandma Jessie.  They talk about how far back he might go.

Bob has some photos that the two of them look over.  There's a photo of Jesse as a baby with his parents, and one of Grandma Jessie looking very classy.  Then there's a photo of Jesse Wheat Uppercu, Grandma Jessie's father.  He's dressed in a nice suit, and Bob says he was a lawyer.  Ferguson says he looks like Bob.  Bob says his mother told him Uppercu was born in Maryland.  The next photograph of Uppercu looks like a studio seating and is dated Christmas 1923; a handwritten note on the back is addressed to Uppercu's wife Elizabeth, Bob's grandmother.  Uppercu wrote that the photo was a "token of affection" for his wife; it sounds very understated.  Bob says that's where his knowledge ends.

New York Times,
August 28, 1872, page 2

They wonder if they can find anything online and decide to use Google.  Ferguson starts by searching for <Jesse Uppercu law Maryland> but doesn't find anything.  Bob suggests he refine the search and mentions that the name was sometimes spelled Uppercue.  They find a New York Times article about a murder in Baltimore on August 27, 1872.  (What?  Ancestry allowed someone else's Web site on the program?  Heaven forfend!)  Mrs. Amelia Wheat was the victim.  Her nephew, Jesse Uppercue, was accused of the murder.  Ferguson asked his father, "Did you know about this?", and Bob says, "No,  I didn't," but Bob, not being an actor, had more trouble maintaining a straight face.  Uppercu was 22 years old.  Uppercu said his aunt called him because she was upset and he went to her room, then fell asleep.  He woke up to the sound of a pistol and a man ran out of the room.  Apparently the police didn't believe him.  Ferguson wonders whether Uppercu ended up in prison or not, and his father suggests he needs to talk to a historian and that he should go to Maryland to find out.

In the interlude Ferguson says if all of this had happened to a more distant relative it would be easier to deal with.  Since this was his beloved grandmother's father, it makes it more palpable and real.  The details about the murder aren't lining up for him.

Ferguson travels to the Maryland State Archives in Annapolis.  He says he's hoping to find some clarity about the "situation" (the only word he wants to use to describe it) with Uppercu.  Criminal justice historian David Wolcott meets him at the archives.  Wolcott says that he has asked the archivists to pull documents related to Uppercu.  (This sort of intro persists throughout the episode.  Ferguson says he has asked the researchers to find information, and/or the researchers tell Ferguson they've had documents prepared.  There's no question the information is being fed to Ferguson.)   Ferguson asks why Uppercu was arrested, and Wolcott tells him the police didn't believe him.  Uppercu had the means and opportunity to murder his aunt, so the focus of the investigation was on him.  Ferguson of course wants to know what happened, and Wolcott suggests they look in more newspapers.  They search through bound printed copies of the Baltimore Sun (so much for using someone else's online resources; the Sun is available through ProQuest, but I guess Ancestry and ProQuest couldn't work out an agreement?).

Since the first article was dated August 27, Wolcott suggests starting with August 28 for more coverage.  The August 31 issue has an article titled "Lombard Street Homicide" with a lot of very interesting information.  Apparently Mrs. Wheat had executed two wills on July 26, a mere month before the murder.  Uppercu had summoned Mrs. Wheat's lawyer on that day to draw up a will for her.  The original version of the will had left the bulk of her estate ($22,000, equivalent to approximately $400,000 in today's money) to Uppercu, with a few bequests of small amounts and some donations.  Uppercue had insisted on reading the will and didn't like the donations, so induced his aunt to rewrite the will, abandoning the small bequests and leaving everything to him.  Gee, I wonder why the police suspected him of the murder?  Along with the means and opportunity we already knew about, he now had a very strong motive.

Ferguson asks whether there are court documents, and Wolcott says they can look at the Baltimore court records the archivists have retrieved.  They start with the book for the September 1872 term, and Ferguson looks in the index; Uppercue appears on page 74.  In the case of State of Maryland v. Jesse W. Uppercue, dated October 4, 1872, Uppercu had pled "non culp", i.e., not guilty.  The book includes the lists of witnesses for both the prosecution and the defense, about an equal number for each side.  We were not shown the rest of the documentation, but Wolcott explains that though it was largely a circumstantial case, Uppercu did have means, opportunity, and motive.  He also mentions that Uppercu's character would be a deciding factor.  On December 16, it was noted that the jury could not agree and the case was discharged, essentially the equivalent of a hung jury.  But the prosecution decided to retry Uppercu!  The second case followed very quickly, in the January 1873 term.  Ferguson asks why they would bother to have a second trial.  Wolcott says that the prosecutors must have thought they had a good enough case.  The archivists bring out the next book, and on page 9 we learn that on March 6, 1873, the jury rendered a verdict of not guilty, and the judge acquitted Uppercu.  After that the matter was finished, and Uppercu could not be retried (though not stated, this was due to the principle of double jeopardy).  Ferguson wonders whether his great-grandfather ever received the inheritance, and Wolcott says he has not been able to find any documentation of it.  (That sounded odd to me.  Did Baltimore City have a burned courthouse after 1873?  Wouldn't the estate have gone through probate, especially after the trial?  Are books missing?)

Ferguson is a little uneasy about his great-grandfather (who can blame him?).  He next asks what happened to Uppercu after the court case.  Wolcott says to find out where he shows up they should find him in the next census, which is 1880.  And of course he says they should look on Ancestry.com, but this is one instance where I agree.  It really is the best place to search the U.S. census.  They find Uppercu in Evanston, Illinois, aged 30, and married to L. I. Uppercue with three children in the household.  Uppercu was free at 23 and the oldest child is 6 years old, so he must have married very soon after the trial.  Ferguson is surprised to learn his great-grandfather had a family before his great-grandmother and wants to know how he can learn about this other life.  Wolcott tells him he'll need to go to Evanston.

Ferguson says it was terrifying to read the articles about his great-grandfather and that he has mixed emotions about the man.  He's afraid to find out what happened next and admits it's hard not to judge Uppercu.  He says things are gray and he's looking for clarity.  (Personally, they didn't seem very gray to me.  I am not the type to rush to judgment, but I have to admit I am leaning heavily toward thinking Uppercu probably was guilty.)

In Evanston, Illinois (the home of Northwestern University), Ferguson says he will be speaking to cultural historian Scott Sandage of Carnegie-Mellon University, whom he has asked to research Uppercu's life after his acquittal.  He meets Sandage at the Evanston Public Library.  Sandage says he has prepared a timeline of Uppercu's life based on information from city directoreis, censuses, and newspapers.  The first item we see is information reiterated from the 1880 census, where we learn that Uppercu's wife's name was Laura, no longer simply the initial "L."  The next item is dated February 20, 1884, when Uppercu is mentioned in the St. Paul Globe newspaper as being on trial in Fargo, North Dakota Territory, for embezzling the sum of $,1800, worth about $50,000–60,000 today, from the First National Bank.  (Hmm, going for money again ....)  Lots of money was around in this period, but good procedures to track it were lacking.

The narrator pops in and talks about the Gilded Age, the last decades of the 1800's.  The United States experienced huge economic growth accompanied by political corruption and worker exploitation.  While magnates such as John Rockefeller, J. P. Morgan, and Leland Stanford amassed empires, ambitious men such as Jesse Uppercu tried to make their own fortunes.

So Uppercu said he had dropped the money and lost it.  Somehow he was acquitted again.  Apparently the public's sympathy lay with Uppercu, who presented himself well.  Ferguson and Sandage banter back and forth about how "dropping" the money was a good enough excuse and that it was possible he had actually lost it, but you could tell neither one of them was buying it.  (I didn't either.)

Our next timeline highlight is May through August 1886, when Uppercu was in St. Louis.  While there, he sued Laura for divorce and said that she "complains too much" about the dirty streets and water in St. Louis.  Nothing else was said about the divorce, kind of leaving me to wonder whether he had decided she was dead weight for some reason.

Still in St. Louis, Uppercu was arrested on September 29, 1886.  Ferguson is upset and says, "I need a moment!", then asks if there is more information.  (Of course.)  The Missouri Republican newspaper reported on the arrest of lawyer Uppercu on another charge of embezzlement.  He had been working as a "collecting attorney" (not a term with which I am familiar).  He "lost" another $200, but the charges were dropped when he came up with the money and reimbursed the firm.  They weren't able to prove intent, so there was no prosecution.

Apparently deciding St. Louis was just not working out for him, Uppercu was in Hoboken, New Jersey, in 1893, where he married Sadie Canta, wife #2.  Obviously, this was another marriage Ferguson's family had not known about.  In 1897 Uppercu appears in a Philadelphia city directory listed as a lawyer, residing at 1009 Mt. Vernon.

Bridgeton Evening News,
February 17, 1898, page 2

Ferguson comments on how much Uppercu had moved around.  Sandage adds that exclamation points seemed to follow him everywere he went:  Murder!  Embezzlement!  Ferguson (justifiably) has to admit that he has drawn the conclusion that his great-grandfather was "a bit" of a con man.  He asks what happened after 1897 and whether Uppercu had stayed in Philadelphia.  Sandage says that's as far as they have taken the research (yeah, right) and "suggests" that Ferguson try looking on Newspapers.com (owned by Ancestry) for the period 1897–1900 to see what Uppercu might have been doing.  Ferguson searches for <J. W. Uppercu> and finds an 1898 article, "Gold-Seekers Begin the Journey" in the Bridgeton (New Jersey) Evening News.  The article said that lawyer J. W. Uppercu of 504 Walnut Street was leading a group headed to the Alaskan gold rush.

Ferguson asks how in the world Uppercu would know to go to Alaska in the first place.  Sandage tells him he'll have to go there to find out (cue our next location!).  Where in Alaska?  Wrangell, which Ferguson says he has never heard of.  Sandage says while Ferguson is gone he will continue to research and if he finds anything he'll send it to him in Wrangell (yes, that was another cue you heard).

Ferguson says he wants to fill in the details about his great-grandfather.  Between the murder and the two embezzlements (I wonder if there were more the research team missed?) he has little faith in Uppercu and that he really wants him to have some roots.  Alaska just doesn't seem to be the way to do that.  He also comments that he himself is more of an "indoor" kid; he sounds a little suspicious about all that open country.

Driving through Wrangell, Ferguson is amazed at the gorgeous scenery and glassy, clear water.  He says he's allergic to how clean the air is (no snarky comments about Los Angeles, please!).  He arrives at the Irene Ingle Public Library and meets Terrence Cole, a history professor at the University of Alaska at Fairbanks.  We get an overview of Wrangell as the entrance to the Klondike and a short synopsis of the 1896–1898 gold rush.  Cole explains that Uppercu was the "organizational genius" who put together the entire trip.  He was also the fundraiser and financial manager, who tracked money and resources for the group.  Ferguson latched onto that and wondered if history had repeated itself.  Cole goes on to say that Uppercu would have held onto the money, put it to good use, and even chosen the route.  The enterprise rested on the trust and faith the group had in him.

Ferguson starts to go beyond the money question and comments on the physical labor that would have been required.  Uppercu was about 48 years old at the time, and it would have been very wearing for him.  Ferguson then asks whether there's more about the journey that Cole can share.  Cole says that the secretary of the party had written a series of letters to his hometown newspaper, which apparently had been published as articles.  Several of the letters were collected and bound as a book, which Cole hands to Ferguson.

The first letter we are shown, written by B. (Benjamin) F. Parker to the Bridgeton (New Jersey) Evening News, was dated March 9, 1898 in the paper.  (Only the early part of 1998 is online at Newspapers.com, which I'm sure is why they did this part in print; all the referenced articles are available at GenealogyBank, but I guess they didn't work out an agreement for this episode.  I don't understand why they showed the articles as plain text, though.)  The party had just started out with its equipment and machinery.  Cole talked about how Uppercu's expedition was unique in its size and complexity.  There were more than 60 people, a huge amount of machinery, a portable sawmill, a gold-digging machine which they hoped would be able to produce 100 tons per day, and more.  It was a very large-scale operation, far beyond what anyone else had tried.  Cole suddenly says they should follow the trail that Uppercu had gone on.

Even though a little earlier Ferguson had said he was an indoor kid and allergic to the fresh air, now he is excited to be going on the boat.  He starts to wonder whether his great-grandfather had had the skills needed to make the trip and says Uppercu must have been pompous (not exactly the word I would have used) to think he had the ability to lead the expedition.

Cole describes the route that the party had planned to take:  Departing from Fort Wrangell, they would have gone up the Stikine River to Telegraph Creek, then taken all the equipment overland to Lake Teslin.  From there they would have gone downstream to the Yukon River and followed it to the boom town of Dawson, Yukon Territory.  It would have taken several months to complete the 700-mile trek.

Bridgeton Evening News,
October 1, 1898, page 1

The two men head out to the harbor and board the boat (Breakaway Adventures' Ocean Pro; the cameramen worked hard at not showing the complete company name, so it must not have paid for placement).  We get some beautiful eye-candy shots of the boat traveling up the Stikine.  I wasn't sure if they actually went all the way to Telegraph Creek, which is supposed to be about 140 miles up the Stikine, but they stopped at a shore and offboarded.  Then Ferguson read more of Parker's letters from the book, starting with, "And now our troubles began."  Published on September 13, 1898, Parker's letter (written August 23) talked about men catching colds and one man dying.  The party had a lot of trouble making progress up the river.  The second letter Ferguson read from, published October 1, 1898, and written by Parker on September 12, talked about the party being "blocked out" because they were not able to use their sleds to travel.  It also mentioned the decision to give all men who wanted to leave permission to do so, and how the expedition required a strong leader but did not have one.  According to Parker's letter, Uppercu left August 6, resigning as manager before he did so.  (The letter published in October went on to say that Parker himself had also left the expedition.)

Ferguson's first reaction is to say that his great-grandfather must have have been upset to have had to leave the party and that his pride must have been wounded.  Cole tells him that those who stayed behind didn't end up finding any gold.  Uppercu might have left just to cut his lossess, as the expedition seemed to have bad luck.  On the other hand, Cole points out that only 30,000–40,000 of the hundreds of thousands who tried actually made it to the Klondike.  Of those, he says that only a few hundred made any money.  Uppercu's group making it as far as it did was still an accomplishment.

In the interlude before returning to his room, Ferguson says it must have been devastating for his great-grandfather to have failed and also spoke of the barriers that had existed for the attempt.  He admitted, however, that he wasn't surprised that Uppercu had quit, because the man generally had looked for easy, fast money, which the Alaska expedition decidedly was not.  Ferguson then repeated what he had said about his family at the beginning of the episode — that they were stable, secure, boring — and yet here was this history that was full of drama.  Definitely not what he had been expecting!  He's been told a package from Sandage is waiting for him at the hotel, and he hopes it has more information.  He's particularly curious when Uppercu married his great-grandmother Elizabeth.

In his room, Ferguson opens the envelope from Sandage and reads a letter on Carnegie-Mellon letterhead.  The research team had indeed found more information about Uppercu.  He had returned from Alaska in 1898.  In the 1900 census he was in New York with his wife, Sadie, and a daughter, Muriel.  Uppercu and Sadie divorced in September 1907.  As an aside, Ferguson remarks that makes two ex-wives and four children so far for Uppercu.  Also in 1900, Uppercu was a respected speaker for the Republican Party in New York City and was scheduled to speak at a parade to welcome Teddy Roosevelt.  Sandage wrote that Uppercu was a good speaker and charismatic, the best things they had discovered about him.

Finally, Elizabeth enters the picture.  She and Uppercu married in July 1914 in Suffern, Rockland County, New York.  Uppercu was 60 years old; Elizabeth Quigg was 26 and a widow.  (That could mean that Quigg was her married name, but the program didn't address that point.)  Uppercu adopted Elizabeth's children, Grace and Dorothy, from her first marriage, and Ferguson's great-grandmother Jessie was born after that.  But Uppercu and Elizabeth divorced in November 1925.  (Boy, does this man have a track record!)  Surprisingly, in the 1930 census Uppercu was found in Rockland County with all the children — Grace, 21; Dorothy, 18; Jessie, 14; and Elizabeth, 11.  No wife was present in the household.  Ferguson wonders where Elizabeth was but is happy that the girls were with their father.  It looks like the first time he stepped up to his responsibilities, and Ferguson is proud of him.  (Three interesting notes about the census:  First, Jesse is listed as widowed, not divorced.  The program did not discuss Elizabeth after the divorce, but two family trees on Ancestry say Elizabeth died in 1973; it's likely that Jesse simply didn't want to admit he was divorced, as it wasn't really socially acceptable at the time.  Second, Ferguson listed four daughters, but there are five in the household.  Why he didn't mention Irene, who was six years old, is mysterious to me.  And third, I noticed that the original transcription of the name was Uppecca [gotta love that Ancestry quality] and that Uppercu has been added an an "alternative" reading; I wonder how much trouble that mistranscription caused the researchers when they were looking for Jesse ....)

Uppercu family, 1930 census, Rockland County, New York

In the wrap-up, Ferguson says there are still unanswered questions about Uppercu.  He feels that Uppercu got away with a lot (I don't think there's much question about that!).  He talks about getting a blueprint of where you came from and how learning about his great-grandfather has filled in information for him.  He feels his drive, creativity, and strong will came from this side of his family, and maybe even his ability as an actor can be attributed to Uppercu.  Whether or not he was guilty, Uppercu became an honorable man at the end and apparently made roots for his family.

Ferguson then reminisces about his grandmother, one of the greatest people he has ever known.  He's glad that Uppercu raised her but wishes he had known this information while Jessie was alive.  He feels he knows her better now but wishes he could have shared the discoveries with her.

I got a bonus after this episode aired.  TLC purchased the rights to air ten of the NBC episodes of Who Do You Think You Are?, and they've been showing them before and after the new season episodes.  After Ferguson came the Rob Lowe episode from NBC season 3, one I missed due to my erratic schedule that year.  I really enjoyed the episode and was impressed by several of the intelligent questions Lowe asked.  I have to admit I guessed the big surprise ending almost immediately, though.

Something I noticed while watching the intro to both the Cynthia Nixon and Jesse Tyler Ferguson episodes was that only five celebrities are being shown:  Nixon, Ferguson, the McAdams sisters, Kelsey Grammer, and Valerie Bertinelli.  I knew I remembered the original publicity mentioned six episodes, so I hunted around and found this post on the Ancestry.com blog, dated July 5.  What happened to Lauren Graham?

Wordless Wednesday

"Who Do You Think You Are?" - Chris O'Donnell

The emphasis on this episode of Who Do You Think You Are? was on family.  The message was delivered in almost as heavy-handed a fashion as the "strong women" in the Kelly Clarkson episode, though Chris O'Donnell was far more believable than Clarkson.  In the introduction O'Donnell says that he's doing research on his father's family in honor of his father, who recently passed away, and that there's a legacy of courage, patriotism, and devotion to family.

The overview of Chris O'Donnell says that he's an actor, producer, and director.  He is mainly known as one of the stars of NCIS:  Los Angeles, and he's been in this career for more than 25 years.  Some of his important roles over the years have been in Men Don't Leave, Scent of a Woman, and Batman Forever.  He had the opportunity to be part of the Hollywood scene but family was more important to him.  At the age of 26 he met the "right person"; they have been married 16 years and have five children.

O'Donnell is the youngest of seven children.  His father, William O'Donnell, was born in 1922 in St. Louis, Missouri.  His father passed away two years ago (actually 2010, I think; later in the episode we get something about the filming being done in 2012) and by researching his father's family history he can maintain a connection with him.  William O'Donnell was a self-made man who put family first.  O'Donnell gets a little choked up when he speaks about his father and is obviously very emotional.  William was a solid role model and was proud of O'Donnell and his accomplishments.  O'Donnell's mother is still alive, so he can ask her questions about her side of the family, but can't do the same for his father's side.

Even though his mother is still alive, O'Donnell doesn't meet with her to start his reearch.  Instead he sits down with his sister Libby's middle daughter, Tory Berner, who currently (for the summer) is living with O'Donnell and his family.  Berner is this family's amateur genealogist, and she has put some information together.  (I'm really starting to wonder about all these celebrities who just happen to have someone in the family who's been doing genealogy work.)  She says right up front that she's been doing all of her research online, which should raise alarm bells, but off we blithely go.

Berner starts by saying that they know William's parents were Sarah Regina McCabe and John O'Donnell.  Berner has an 1886 baptismal certificate for Sarah from St. Louis; it says Sarah's parents were Henry McCabe and Mary McEnnis.  Berner suggests they find out more about the McEnnises and tells O'Donnell to look up McEnnis in St. Louis.  In the 1850 census he finds a 1-year-old Mary McEnnis in a household with Michael and Eliza McEnnis, probably Mary's parents — but since no relationships are listed in the 1850 census, this is just a supposition.  Without saying where she has found any verification of these people's identities, we immediately leap to the conclusion that Michael McEnnis is definitely O'Donnell's great-great-grandfather.

O'Donnell says he recognizes the name McCabe but has never heard of McEnnis before, so he wants to know more that side (how convenient).  Berner says she has looked at some local history sites and suggests O'Donnell look on the Missouri History Museum Web site.  (What?!  Ancestry.com allowed another company's Web site to be shown on the program?  I wonder how high the promotional fee was.)  O'Donnell dutifully searches for McEnnis and finds a reference to a cholera epidemic in 1849 in an online guide.  Berner says there's nothing else online, but since Michael McEnnis wrote the report, O'Donnell should go to St. Louis to find out what it says.  (When I searched I actually found online images of the report; page 1 is to the left.  Admittedly, they're low resolution, because they want you to buy copies, but I was able to read them.  I will concede that the museum may have posted the images online because of the filming of the program.  But they've never heard of interlibrary loan?)

O'Donnell travels to the Missouri History Museum Library in St. Louis, where he meets archivist Dennis Northcott.  O'Donnell explains that his ancestor Michael McEnnis wrote about the cholera epidemic in St. Louis and that he would like to find out more information.  Northcott says that he must have found the reference in the online guide and that he will get the item from the stacks.  (How refreshingly realistic!  Not everything is already pulled, and the admission that some things are stored in back and have to be retrieved!)  The manuscript is an original recollection written by Michael McEnnis.  Northcott says it was probably donated by McEnnis or a family member.  (Another refreshing change -- no conservator's gloves!  Maybe whether they wear them depends on the individual repository's policies.)

O'Donnell asks about the cholera epidemic.  The 1849 cholera epidemic came to the U.S. from Europe.  St. Louis was one of the hardest hit cities.  The epidemic killed about 10% of the population.  At its height 88 people were buried each day; 4,500 people died in three months.  (This doesn't quite add up, but that's what he said.)  At the time people didn't know what caused cholera, so it spread easily and rapidly.

Michael's father John McEnnis was the superintendent of a graveyard in St. Louis (a Catholic graveyard according to the document, though they didn't state the denomination in the episode).  Michael was off fighting in the Mexican War when he received a letter from his family.  His father had died and his brother had taken charge of the cemetery, but his brother had become very sick.  No one else was available to take care of the burials, and the family needed Michael's help.

One of Michael's reminiscences was the story of a woman who came to the cemetery with a bundle.  She asked for a poor ticket for a 12-year-old child's burial.  The bundle was the child in question, and she had already buried her husband and her other child.  She was the last of her people, and when she died they would all be gone.  (It wasn't stated in the program, but this must have been after Michael's return to St. Louis from the war.)

Northcott shows O'Donnell a photograph of Michael, who looks like a serious young man.  The 1850's are fairly early for photography, so it is uncommon to have a photograph of someone, much less have it survive.  O'Donnell wants to know where he can find more information about Michael in the Mexican War, and Northcott says he should go to Washington, D.C.  As he leaves, O'Donnell says that he has no written account of his own father's life, but now he has one for his great-great-grandfather.  So far he finds Michael's life to be amazing and wonders what else he will find.

In DC, O'Donnell goes to the Georgetown Neighborhood Library and talks with Amy S. Greenberg of Pennsylvania State University, listed as an expert on the Mexican War (though it does not appear to be the main focus of her research).  She has Michael McEnnis' compiled military service record (CMSR) from the National Archives, so the Georgetown library is yet more window dressing.  O'Donnell gives a lame cue — "Can you give me a synopsis about the Mexican-American War?  Refresh my memory from my senior year in high school." — and Greenberg explains that in May 1846 the United States extended only to the Midwest but believed in manifest destiny, so we declared war on Mexico, which controlled the continent from Texas west to California.

Michael's service record jacket showed that he was in the 1st Regiment of the Missouri Mounted Infantry.  (If Michael's records are at NARA, I would normally think he was in the regular U.S. Army, not in a state volunteer unit, as those records are generally held in state archives.  But I've researched the Mexican-American War — in fact, a Missouri mounted unit — and I recall that most units were state volunteers, and this sounds like a state unit.)  Greenberg explained that he was a 12-month volunteer.  His first muster card, for June 11–August 31, 1846, showed that he signed up less than one month after President Polk had called for volunteers.  His unit's orders were to go to New Mexico, capture the enemy, then go to California and capture the enemy there.  (This is a weird coincidence.  This is exactly what the orders were for the person I researched for this war.  I'm pretty sure Michael's unit was under General Kearny.)  This was during two months of the summer in Oklahoma and New Mexico, when the weather would have been broiling.  Michael's muster card for January–February 1847, though, shows that he was absent on furlough in St. Louis.  For some reason, O'Donnell comments that "he disappears", but later corrects it to saying he was on furlough, and wants to know why.  Greenburg has him look online on Fold3.com (owned by Ancestry.com!), where he finds a letter from Michael to the Adjutant General dated December 21, 1846, applying for a discharge.  Michael stated that on June 7 he had left St. Louis/Fort Leavenworth and then arrived in Santa Fe, where he had learned of the death of his father.  He had a large and helpless family and needed to return to them.  For some reason O'Donnell asks whether the discharge was dishonorable.  Greenberg immediately responds, "No!" and says that it was an honorable discharge.  She then mentions that the Smithsonian has an amazing collection of Mexican War artifacts and suggests that O'Donnell should check it out while he is in town.  This immediately implied that the research team had found something there about Michael McEnnis.

O'Donnell talks about how Michael had volunteered to serve his country right away but went back to St. Louis to take care of his family.  His duty to his family was his priority, more important than his military career.  O'Donnell relates to that, as his own family is his priority also.

O'Donnell heads off with Greenberg to the Smithsonian's National Museum of American History.  Curator David Miller (this page says he's the Gun Room curator) meets them at a display about the Mexican War.  On a table are a cavalry saber and scabbard.  Miller hands O'Donnell a letter and says it came with the saber.  The letter is dated June 5, 1905 and was written by Michael McEnnis.  Michael said he "accidentally retained" the old saber and was now donating it at the request of a friend (perhaps someone associated with the museum).  To handle the saber, the conservator's gloves do come out.  Miller explains it is a Model 1813 horseman's saber and that it's been in storage.  (Apparently the Smithsonian has an excellent listing of its storage items!  How in the world did the show's researchers find out about this?)  O'Donnell wonders whether Michael would have thought that his great-great-grandson would be holding it 107 years later (which is how we can tell this was shot in 2012).  O'Donnell mentions that he also "accidentally" kept his sword from The Three Musketeers, so apparently it runs in the family.

Greenberg says she had done some additional research and they also found a photo of Michael.  Michael looks to be about 80 years old, so they've estimated it dates to about 1905, the time of the letter.  Michael looks rather distinguished, with a full head of gray hair; O'Donnell wonders if he'll get gray hair also.

A St. Louis Post-Dispatch article from May 14, 1911 talked about Michael as the only man still living in St. Louis of the 8,600 men from the city who were in the Mexican War.  The article said he came from fighting stock and was the ninth generation of his family in this country.  In the War of 1812 88 members of the family fought, including Michael's grandfather George McNeir, a lieutenant in the sea fencibles who participated in the bombardment of Ft. McHenry.  From the cholera epidemic manuscript, O'Donnell knows that Michael's father was John, so assumes that John's wife must have been a McNeir and George was her father.  O'Donnell makes an unusual comment:  "Looks like I'm going to find out something about George McNeir."  (Maybe he's psychic.)  To find out more about George, O'Donnell is told to look for records at the National Archives.

O'Donnell starts adding up the numbers — if Michael was the ninth generation in this country, that makes O'Donnell the thirteenth, and his children the fourteenth.  Then he starts thinking about George McNeir, his fourth great-grandfather, who was in the War of 1812, and wondering what he will learn.

Now he goes to the National Archives (that's probably why they shot the first scene with Greenberg somewhere else) and talks to historical researcher Vonnie Zullo.  (We also saw her on the Kelly Clarkson episode.)  Zullo tells O'Donnell he's "in luck" becuase George McNeir's original CMSR for the War of 1812 still exists.  The War of 1812 was fought between the United States and Great Britain.  Great Britain was at war with France, and the U.S. had been trading with France, so Great Britain started attacking U.S. ships and impressing sailors.  At the beginning the U.S. was being crushed.

McNeir was a third lieutenant in Captain John Gill's company of sea fencibles.  O'Donnell says, "I've never heard of a sea fencible."  (Neither had I; thank heavens for Wikipedia!)  They were local men who protected key U.S. ports.  O'Donnell asks what a third lieutenant did.  Zullo responds that he would have been in charge of the cannoneers, and they joke that he probably would have had bad hearing.  The first of McNeir's muster cards shown is for February 28–March 31, 1814.  At that time the war was not going well for the U.S.  The British had more ships and men and were destroying towns by burning them to the ground.  The next muster card, for April 30–June 30, 1914, showed McNeir in Ft. McHenry in Baltimore.  (No muster card was shown for June 30–August 31, during which period the British burned Washington, on August 24.)  The final muster card shown was for August 31–October 31, 1814, which did not list a location but indicated McNeir was discharged.

Zullo again says that O'Donnell is very lucky, because she was able to find a few more documents.  She emphasized this was uncommon.  One is a letter from McNeir dated October 22, 1814.  He wrote to the Secretary of War asking to resign his position as third lieutenant, citing a situation with his family that required his presence.  The similarity with O'Donnell's second great-grandfather Michael McEnnis is rather striking.  O'Donnell asks whether the resignation was accepted.  (I couldn't believe that O'Donnell didn't comment on the fact that he was holding a piece of paper with his fourth great-grandfather's original signature on it.  I would have been doing the genealogy happy dance!)

Zullo pulls out one more document.  It states that George McNeir accepted his appointment on March 22, 1814 and that his resignation was effective November 24, 1814.  His resignation was accepted.  Zullo says that this type of request was not necessarily normal.  She stresses again that O'Donnell is lucky because most often documents such as these have not survived.

Then O'Donnell wonders what the situation was with McNeir's family that caused him to submit his resignation.  Zullo says that since McNeir was from Baltimore, the Maryland State Archives in Annapolis would be the place to look for more information, as it would have records about people from Baltimore.  O'Donnell says he has to find out more.  His ancestors chose family, as he and his own father did.  He wonders if maybe someone in the family was sick or had died, or maybe if McNeir was just sick of hearing cannons.

At the Maryland State Archives O'Donnell is met by genealogist Michael Hait (I know him!).  O'Donnell tells Hait that he has muster rolls for his fourth great-grandfather George McNeir, who had to leave the army due to family reasons.  Hait says he has "done a little bit of research already" and has to finish up, but in the meantime suggests that O'Donnell look at the 1810 census to get an idea of the McNeir houshold composition and dynamics.  He leaves O'Donnell with an iPad and says he'll be back in a few minutes.  (Another time the researcher goes away to retrieve records — definitely different for this show.)

Now, O'Donnell is a decent actor, and he made most of the scenes in this episode believable.  But I have trouble believing that he could look at the 1810 census and make immediate sense of it.  I routinely have to explain how to read the early U.S. censuses to people who have already been doing some level of genealogical research.  How likely is it that someone with no experience could just up and understand it?  Well, I guess it isn't impossible, but I'm a little suspicious.

Inexperience notwithstanding, O'Donnell finds the relevant census page (even though it's indexed on Ancestry.com and appears on the page as McNier) and goes to George's name.  He sees that the household has two parents and four children.

Hait returns and shows O'Donnell a page from the 1812 Baltimore city directory, which he says will give more details.  McNeir is listed as a tailor.  O'Donnell extrapolates that if the British win the war, McNeir's business will be destroyed.  He asks Hait if the address is near the water.  Hait points out that Baltimore is a port city and that everything is near the water and would be affected by the war.

Hait then shows O'Donnell some "poor papers."  O'Donnell is stunned that these are originals and that he can touch them (but weren't the muster cards originals also?).  Hait tells him to go to #72.  There he finds George McNeir listed with house rent of $21.10.  On April 21, 1813 McNeir's goods and chattels (which O'Donnell asks Hait to define; chattels are personal property) were seized and taken in payment for his house rent.  Eighty-eight great coats worth $704 (according to Hait, about $11,000 today) were taken, which probably would have been his complete inventory.  As for why this would have happened, trade with Europe had been hampered because of the war, and most of McNeir's customers would probably have been upper-class people in Europe.  So the war destroyed his business.

McNeir's inventory was gone, but he had a wife and four children, so he needed a job.  That would be a good incentive to sign up for the military.  O'Donnell asks how much a sea fencible would have earned, and Hait says about $23/month, equal to about $300–$400 today.  So now we know why McNeir enlisted, but why would he have resigned?  Hait points out that McNeir was serving at Ft. McHenry during September 1914, when a significant military event took place.  He says that might give more information but doesn't actually say where O'Donnell should go (or at least if he did it didn't survive the editing process).  Something I noticed during the scene with Hait was that O'Donnell was the person leading most of the dialogue, unlike the scenes with the other researchers.

O'Donnell says that McNeir had lots of problems but that his first priority was to provide for his family.  He doesn't know why McNeir resigned but thinks that visiting Ft. McHenry might help him learn.

At Ft. McHenry O'Donnell meets Vince Vaise, a historian and park ranger with the Ft. McHenry National Monument.  Vaise is a hoot.  He is so enthusiastic about history, it's contagious.  It's worth watching this episode again just to see him.

Vaise tells O'Donnell that in late 1814 Washington had been burned, and Baltimore was next on the list for the British.  On September 12 the British navy was seen on the horizon, so the men at Ft. McHenry prepared for battle.  The next morning, September 13, it was pouring rain.  The ships were out of range for the Americans because the British had a "secret weapon", a 194-pound shell that had a 2-mile range.  The Americans were ordered to cease fire because they couldn't reach the ships and there was no reason to waste ammunition, so they were just sitting there.  One captain later reported that they "felt like pigeons."  The British bombarded the fort for 25 hours, and the battle could be heard in the city of Baltimore.  On the morning of September 14, the British ceased fire.  They had the advantage, but apparently they had used all their ammunition.  Their secret weapon hadn't taken down the fort, and if they moved in closer, they would be within range of the American guns.  So at 9:00 a.m. they sailed away.

The original "Star-Spangled Banner"

When everything became quiet people in Baltimore wondered who had won the battle.  After the British left, the morning cannons fired and the small flag that had been flying was taken down.  In its place a 42' by 30' flag was raised over the fort.  This flag was seen by Francis Scott Key, who was a lawyer in town to negotiate the release of a prisoner.  He was so inspired by the sight of the flag that he composed the poem that was later renamed "The Star-Spangled Banner" and became the U.S. national anthem when set to the tune of "To Anacreon in Heaven."

The Battle of Baltimore became the turning point of the war for the U.S.  It also had an impact on the treaty that ended the war.

After educating O'Donnell about the importance of Ft. McHenry, Vaise asks if he would like to help change the flag, to which he of course agrees.  He looks very proud as he helps raise the flag over the fort.

In his wrap-up (the third one without the family member from the beginning), O'Donnell talks about how his ancestors felt the call to service but had more important things like their families that took precedence.  His ancestors helped with the cholera epidemic and the battle that inspired "The Star-Spangled Banner."  His father would have been inspired and proud at the amazing stories he's learned about.  These past generations helped instill the love of family that he has.

This episode had some fantastic stories.  It is an amazing coincidence that both George McNeir and his grandson Michael McEnnis joined the military and then very shortly afterward resigned to return to and help their families.  It's incredible that the Smithsonian has McEnnis' saber and the letter he sent when he donated it.  (And I'm still amazed they know their storage inventory that well.)  Like the Zooey Deschanel episode, the producers must have been thrilled to be able to connect their celebrity so closely to such a major historical event.  But the one thing they never actually demonstrated in the episode was why McNeir resigned his position as a third lieutenant.

The inference in the episode was that McNeir might have resigned because of his incredibly stressful experience at Ft. McHenry.  But if the reason McNeir enlisted was to support his family because of the problems with his business, the fact that the battle at Ft. McHenry went in favor of the Americans wasn't enough to solve those problems.  They probably didn't know at the time that the battle was the turning point in the war.  The war itself didn't officially end until 1815 — but it was mostly over by the end of 1814.  I think it's more likely that McNeir resigned because the war was ending and he thought it was time he could start to rebuild his business.  But that doesn't sound as dramatic, does it?

Wordless Wednesday