Zomgee

Over the past couple weeks I’ve had the privilege of getting back into an old hobby of mine. For several years now I’ve been building a genealogy of all the ancestors I can tie in. Not only did I got up the family tree, in several cases I went back down, then back up, ending up far from where my blood comes from. Why? I’m not sure. I could focus more on those directly above me, and I do, but I like to see how I can tie myself in to various people. Rembrandt Van Rijn, Aaron Burr, Davy Crockett are some of the famous names I can tie myself to. I can trace my line back to the kings and queens of several countries too: France, England, Germany. I even have an ancestor who had this written about him: “To whom Paul the Apostle preached”.

So why am I relaying this to you?

Well… About two weeks ago, I happened upon some more information about the Lortz family, from whom I am directly descended. Frederick and his family moved from Mecklenburg, Germany to the US in 1863, where he immediately settled in Batavia, NY. A wood carver by trade, I assume he brought his craft with him to this country. From the things I’ve read about this specific family, they weren’t well-to-do. Whether they were middle class or lower, I’m not sure. Information from 125 years ago is hard to find.

I can only imagine that life progressed for them like it would have for any other family. That was until 1888. That year Black Diphtheria struck (from what I can tell) most of the Northeast US. Christian (3rd child, 3rd son, born in Germany, 25+ years old), Lewis (4th child, 4th son, born in Germany, 25+ years old), Frederick Jr. (5th child, 5th son, born in NY, between 12 and 25 years old), and their baby boy (unnamed, 11th child, 7th son, presumably a child) all died because of it.

Four sons died that summer.

I can’t even begin to imagine how broken that family must have been. So far, this land of America had not been a dream for them.

Fast forward to 1889, the next year. Somehow their youngest daughter Fredericka had ended up on the railroad tracks in Batavia. Whether she was playing, just crossing them, had gotten stuck- I don’t know, but there was a train. Did her brief life of 5 years flash before her eyes? Even though she was young, did she know she was just a breath away from joining her 4 brothers who had passed the year before?

Its a tough thing to imagine, and something I hope no one has to go through- but it happens. I had the chance to watch John Q again this past Sunday. For those who don’t know, its about a Father who tries everything he can think of to get his dying son a new heart. He becomes desperate and takes the ER ward of the hospital at gunpoint. When no help arrives and his son is just moments away from death, he decides that he would be his own sons best candidate donor. Logistically, everything is perfect. Matching blood type, tissue, etc. This leads him to the point where he’s lying on a hospital bed with the gun to his head. He pulls the trigger.

This is a rare breed of love. It seems fathers are all to ready to push aside their kids to entertain themselves with sports, cars, computers… (incidentally the things I enjoy). While based on the stoic quote from Denzel Washington, “I AM NOT GOING TO BURY MY SON! MY SON IS GOING TO BURY ME!”, his actions were out of a mix of love and duty, classic traits of the first tenant of chivalry. When confronted by the doctor and asked how would his wife feel about this, he said “She would do the same”. It really is a good movie, heavy in satire regarding the medical system in the US, but also about sacrifice and agape love.

That might have seemed like an aside, but let me tie it back in.

As little, 5 year old Fredericka stood there, death hastily approaching, her father (and hero of this tale) lept and pushed her out of the way. Fredericka was alive, but at what cost? Her father was killed instantly, bringing the family of 11 children and 2 parents down to 7 children and one parent.

I can’t imagine how the rest of their lives must have been. There aren’t any happy endings to this tale. None of them went on to win Nobel Peace Prizes or invent some gizmo or discover the cure for diphtheria.

But they did endure. Something Alfred taught to Batman in the latest movie of the series.

They endured and, because they did, I am here to write about them.