Author: Joe

Monday I fly to Amsterdam, arriving on Tuesday morning. From there I go to the cruise ship that will take me up the Rhine to Basel, Switzerland. Wednesday we will be in Amsterdam, where I plan to visit the museum through the tour company. The tour will end a week from Tuesday, in Basel, where I plan to stay for two days. I will try to post something every day while in Europe.

My fifth great-grandfather, Christian Rupp, in the company of his older brother and sister, Johannes and Maria, and with his future bother-in-law to-be, Michael Schallenberger, went down the Rhine in 1750 on their way to the New World. Family lore has it that they are from Sinsheim, near Heidelberg, where I plan to spend a couple of nights working my way back to Amsterdam. While I don’t really expect to find anything out about those original Roops, I hope, while in Heidelberg to visit the town and its technology museum. I plan another genealogy trip in late September to do more research on these early family members.

Next posting will probably be from Amsterdam. Cheers.

I left Henderson about 8:30 with no specific goal for the day of driving. I hopped back on I-515 through Vegas, then went north on I-15 to where US-93 and I-15 separate. I drove US-93 north to where it turns east, then switched to US-318 and US-6 to reconnect to US-93 at Ely. I took US-93 north to Twin Falls, Idaho, where it connects with I-84. I still had gas in the tank, so I pressed on to Mountain Home, Idaho, exiting where there were several places to stay right off the freeway. The first place I tried,the Best Western, was booked, but the Fairfield next door was not, so I stayed there, unloaded, then went to the restaurant in between the two hotels.

When I woke up the next morning it was pouring down rain. The rain persisted through most of Idaho, but by the time I hit Oregon, it has stopped. The rest of the way was boring but uneventful. I rolled into Kennewick about one o’clock to find that Beth had cleared my garage spot. So I pulled into it and was greeted by a four-legged critter at the door, and a two-legged daughter with a hug. It is good to be home.

I left the Denver area about 8:30 Sunday morning, back onto 470 west, then north to I-70. Drove I-70 to Richfield, Utah, where I had booked a stay in a Fairfield Inn (I was a bit wary about not booking reservations after my experience going to Denver from McPherson). The next morning I got a fairly early start and drove into Las Vegas about two in the afternoon. The trip down to Henderson took longer than I expected and I got lost a couple of times trying to find their place, but eventually pulled into the driveway of Mike and Patty Clauretie. Mike and I were graduate students together and on his first job after graduate school, at Shephardstown, West Virginia, we were able to visit when the three of us, Jane, Beth and me, were living in Arlington, Virginia. Mike and I would often meet at the annual economist convention and we both could tell tales about that, but at another time. We have stayed in touch and have visited over the years when they lived in Las Vegas, before the move to Henderson. Patty was returning the next day, so I had arranged to visit for two nights so I could visit with Patty after her return.

Mike and I spent the remainder of the day catching up, including interesting stories about each of his boys: Kevin, the entrepreneur, and Sean, the artist. After a couple of hours of chatting and (me, Mike no longer drinks) drinking beer, we took his Tesla to a local, and nice, Italian Restaurant where we had antipasto and veal parmigiano sitting on the deck outdoors with a splendid view of the LA strip. After dinner we returned to their home and chatted further and watched a game on the boob tube until my time to head off to bed.

I got up early the next morning and fixed myself a cup of coffee and took it outside to watch the wildlife (lizards and humming birds) while I had a cup or two of coffee. Their back yard is small, but nicely arranged with artificial turf, a few trees and other plants along the wall that surrounds the property. A very pleasant way to start the day. After breakfast, Mike came out and joined me. About 11:30 Patty rolled in from a trip to the Mayo Clinic to check on a heart issue which turned out not to be an issue.

Patty and I have a common interest: genealogy. For Patty, it was finding out about her birth parents (she was adopted and raised by a family across the Sound from Tacoma, Washington). Long story short, she found three siblings, a half brother in Portland, and two other half-siblings, brother and sister, in New York. Despite some initial reluctance, they all visited and learned about each other. And, of course, I had to tell her about Vilma and other findings on this trip. Afterwords, Patty and I made a run to the store to pick up steaks, potatoes and salad makings for dinner. Their youngest, Kevin, might be able to come to dinner, so we fixed enough for all. He did show up about seven and we had a really nice time talking about his encounters with the police and other events. Kevin should have been a lawyer.

The next morning I packed up and loaded up the car, then said my farewells. I am really looking forward to seeing them again before the year is over. It’s always nice to spend time with old friends.

I left Kansas fairly early and drove I-70 into Denver, to I-25 south, then to the new home of Tony and Kathy Burris, old friends that I have know since when Tony and I worked for ERS back in the 70’s. Partly because of the time change and partly because I left early, I got there before noon, Denver time. They live in a CCRC (Continuing Care Retirement Community) that they both refer to as a Geezer Farm. You pay up-front money for the apartment you want, then pay a monthly service fee (inflation adjusted; a third of which goes to medical expenses) and for this you get living accommodations, parking space, a meal each day of your choosing, valet service, etc. And like any such arrangement, you are expected to participate by taking classes, going on outings, and serving on committees. The “continuing” part means that when you get to the point you need nursing or other services, these are provided. I am getting more information from Tony about this, so assume I know, currently, only a small fraction of how this works.

While we sat around the table catching up, we talked about books we were were reading, the goings-on at the Geezer Farm and current interests. Tony and Kathy are on a quest to visit every one of the National Parks in the lower contiguous United States, and are planning a visit from Washington, D. C. up through the Northeast to all the parks except those in New York City. I shared what has been going on during this trip and my interest in genealogy. After Tony fixed us a lunch of smoothies (very good, very health-conscious, low in calories, and delicious — I’ve got to learn how to do this) we tracked down a hotel for me to stay in and started planning for dinner. Some of the geezer tales were quite funny: THE Doris, a resident so referred to, complains about everything, tried to get things rescheduled to suit her preference, and got into an altercation when someone had the audacity to sit in HER chair at the yoga class. Doris shoved the interloper, who in tern smacked her. This confrontation was adjudicated with the outcome that the interloper was guilty of “elder abuse” and was required to write an apology for her actions. This person happened to be legally trained, so she wrote a two-page apology that, in essence said, “I am sorry that you are such a bitch!”

As I left to check into my hotel, Kathy walked me out and confided that the ratio of single female geezers to single male geezers was about three or four to one. When a new single male shows up, it is like a flock of chickens all descending on the hapless one. It made me wonder whether experiencing that would be something to look forward to of be scared to death of.

We met about 6:40 for a restaurant that was really good. I’m not sure about the name, but it was something like, Series 52. We had reservations at seven for outdoor seating and were promptly seated and served. While working on our before dinner drinks and hummus appetizers, a violent windstorm nearly blew the umbrellas over, so we moved inside. Geezer and other stories kept us in stitches until well after desert. What a great time. I am really looking forward to seeing both Tony and Kathy later this year.

After dinner I retired to my hotel room to read for a while before going to bed. Got up early (didn’t sleep really well), ate breakfast and hit the road for Henderson, NV, which is a bit too much to try to do in one day on limited sleep. I made it to Richfield, UT, found the hotel I had booked, and was delighted to see an incredible collection of old cars in the parking lot. Lots of old Rolls Royces. Will figure out what is going on and will report tomorrow. After breakfast I head for Henderson to see Mike and Patty Clauretie, friends from graduate school. Mike and I have been texting; I plan to get there at 2:30 his time (I go into another time zone from here). Coming west, it is nice to pick up hours that you lost going east.

I left Warrensburg a few minutes before 8 in the morning. I took US-50 toward Kansas City to where it connected with I-470, which became I-435, the circumferential highway around Kansas City. That took me up to I-70 headed west. I drove west through Topeka to Salina, then hopped on I-135 south to McPherson. I arrived before noon and went straight to the library on Martin Street just a block north of the main drag, which is US-56. I parked and walked into the library with a copy of the Christian Book and talked to the librarian at the front desk. I explained why I came and gave her the book. She turned to another librarian and asked for me to wait while they got the experts in genealogy to come talk to me. Two of them arrived, one of which was the one that we were in contact with that provided much of the information about the Geiman family in Kansas. I relayed the information I reported on in Velma Found, an earlier blog, to their amusement. Having discharged another book delivery duty, I went looking for lunch. At the librarian’s suggestion, I went to the local Italian Restaurant, and had a nice salad and spinach ravioli. Quite good, I might add.

After lunch, rather than find a hotel, I decided to keep heading west until I felt like stopping for the night. I took US-56 west to Great Bend, then US-281 north to I-70. I was running low on gas by then, but thought I could make it to Hays, just a bit over 400 miles on the tank I filled in Warrensburg. Theoretically, I could go nearly 480 miles on a tank of gas when getting over 35 mpg (and that’s what I am getting on this trip), but when the gas gauge lights get down to 2 bars, which usually kicks in at a bit over 300 miles, I start looking for a gas station. In this case, at just over 400 miles, it dropped to one bar; the first time I have let it get that low. While in Hays, I tried to get a room, but every place I tried, in Hays and further west to WaKeeney, was booked up. One of the hotel attendants in Hays said that there are just a lot more folks on the road now that at any time since the onset of the pandemic.

But I found a place at Quinter, a bit closer to Denver, so less time driving tomorrow. With delivery of the Christian Book to the McPherson Library, I have a wrap on the genealogy part of this trip. A visit to friends in Denver; a visit to friends in Henderson, NV; and then I head home.

Last night when I got into my hotel room, I called and ordered flowers to put on the graves of my parents, and my two aunts and uncles that are buried next to my parents: Bill and Mary Swisher and George and Lottie Roop. After breakfast, I went downtown to the flower shop and picked them up, then drove to the Roop Cemetery south of town about a mile and a half. I placed flowers at the three grave sites, then got out my other camera and took photos of headstones of many of the Roop folks buried there to post on Find-A-Grave when I get back home. My dad’s Uncle Vernon, his Grandfather and other relatives are buried there, in what use to be the Brethren Church Cemetery, land for which my great-grandfather gifted to the church. Now it is called the Roop Cemetery.

Before I left the hotel I called the CMU Foundation office and set up an appointment with Pat Smithson, the director of development under which my scholarship under my Dad’s name falls. I had set up that meeting for 11:00 and when I finished at the cemetery it was only about 10:15, so I stopped at the new Kirkpatrick Library and asked if I could talk to someone about leaving my genealogy stuff with them when I croak. The woman I talked to directed me to the museum curator, Amber Clifford-Napoleone, whom I approached after entering the museum. I asked these two questions: would they be interested in having copies of my books; and would they be interested in having my research files and data base that I had built over the course of my work. Her answer was a emphatic yes, on both counts, so I went to my car and got two books and deposited them with her. It is a comfort to know that I can deposit all of the stuff I have accumulated and it won’t be lost or thrown away.

From there I drove the short distance to the Foundation for my meeting with Pat. I talked with her for a while, verifying all the information that she needed, and arranged to meet with Jose Mercado, the Dean of the Harmon College of Business and Professional Studies, under which the department of economics resides. By the time I finished up both of these conversations, it was past 1:00 so I was overdue for lunch. I drove downtown to Heros, a local lunch spot and pub, and had a very nice ravioli salad and a beer for lunch. As I was finishing up, I got a call from the receptionist at the Foundation telling me that the President of the University, Roger Best, was free that afternoon and would like to meet with me at 3:00 at the Foundation.

Before that, however, I had plans to drop off a copy of the Christian Roop book at the historical society, so drove around until I found Main street (which is about four blocks west of Holdren Street, which is really the current main street) and parked at the old court house. The Historical Society of Johnson County and Museum is housed in a building next door and the sign on the door said that they were open on Thursday afternoon from 1:00 to 4:00, but the door was locked. There were numbers to call, so I called Lisa, who left he job briefly and come over and opened up the museum. I delivered the book on Christian Roop and thanked her for taking the time to open things up so I could drop off the book.

Then, while waiting for my meeting with Roger, I drove around the Pertle Springs area, noticed that fraternities and sororities were again in houses standing alone (the University for a while had collective houses where frats and sororities were all housed in one building). Pertle Springs was once the site of one of William Jennings Bryant’s famous campaign speeches, which now houses the UCM golf course. A bunch of us use to go skating on the ice when the pond froze in the winter when I was going to school there.

By this time it was close to 3:00, so I drove back to the Foundation for my meeting with Roger. I first met Roger when he came out to Washington in 2011 representing the foundation; we met again during my 50th reunion when Jane and I came in 2013; again when I was back here in 2016, all before he became President of the University. I was flattered that he took the time to visit with me. We had a nice chat. He also use to have a Mazda Miata.

After I left, I went to Old Barney’s pub, downtown, just to reflect on how many hours I had spent there while in school. It’s much the same, though the shuffle board game is gone — too bad.

I went back to Players for dinner and plan to get up early and head off fore McPherson, Kansas in the morning.

I left Indiana about 9:30 Tuesday morning with a clear map to Oskaloosa: I-74 to Galesburg, IL, then 34 to Ottumwa, IA, then IA-63 to Oskaloosa. Easy trip. I checked into the hotel in Oskaloosa at about 2:45, called the Keo-Mar genealogy library and found that they were open till 4, so zipped down there and met the curator, Don. We had talked over the phone, so he knew what I was looking for and had loads of stuff for me to look at, including all the national and Iowa censuses since 1856, the collected list of folks buried in Keokuk cemeteries collected by the Works Progress Administration during Roosevelt’s administration, and a history of Keokuk county. I did all that before we left, agreeing to resume the search in the morning. He recommended a place to eat, but it was closed for dinner on Wednesday.

The next morning I called about 8:30 and Don was in, so I told him I would be there in about 15 minutes (the flyer says that they open at 10), so I got an early start on things. The curator supplied me with information about grave sites in Keokuk County, and I learned where many of Joseph’s descendants were buried. I will check with Find a Grave when I get home to see if any of them are on that site. I also looked for obits in the local newspaper, but I only found one for John Roop, son of Joseph who died in 1865. Still, a very successful trip; I’ve got a lot to add both in terms of descendants and information about those that stayed in Iowa after leaving Ohio. About 11:30 I wrapped things up, and headed down to Warrensburg. Took me just about 4+ hours to get there, checked into the Holiday Inn Express (which has moved to across the street (i.e., US-50) so I could no longer walk to Players, the restaurant and bar that use to be next door to the old Holiday Inn Express, which is now a Best Western.

I ordered flowers for tomorrow and went by the UCM book store to buy new T-shirts and a polo shirt. The ones I have are about ready for the dumpster. Tomorrow I will put flowers on graves in the Roop Cemetery south of town, check in with the Alumni Foundation and go by the Historical Society to drop off books.

I left Westminster in the morning headed to Wheaton with the idea that I would swing through Sykesville to visit A Likely Story, a book store recommended to my by friends at the Historical Society. I picked up several novels by Louise Penny and two Michael Connelly novels, then continued my journey to Wheaton to visit old friends Peggy Podolak and Jock Jerrett.

I arrived at their home in Wheaton and knocked on the door a couple of times, but no response, so I sat on their porch swing until the door opened. A nurse exited and I entered; they hadn’t heard the knock because a nurse was attending to Jock, who suffers from MS. He was recently hospitalized and his confinement has caused some problems to which the nurse attended. While Jock is dependent on others for nearly everything, he is still lively and his mind is as sharp as ever. It is always a joy to spend time with them both. Peggy and I have known each other since I moved back to DC in 1987 to spend a year working at the Department of Energy. She was the best contractor I ever dealt with at DOE.

After a night with Peggy and Jock, I drove over to Herndon to visit with my brother John and his wife, Marcia. Brood X 17-year cicadas are out this year and in Herndon were even louder than in Wheaton. We ate dinner outside, under their umbrella and were constantly interrupted by cicadas landing on us or crawling up our clothes. While cicadas look fearsome, they are harmless. Because of a kidney transplant, my brother is severely immune-system suppressed. Understandably, Marcia is concerned that exposure to Covids-19 would be devastating to John, so insists on social distancing and masks indoors. We mostly complied, but it is sometimes difficult to talk through a mask. While watching the Nats play, a thunder storm came through, ending the game for the night. The next morning, after breakfast, I headed into Arlington to visit with Bob and Gail Knetl.

We’ve known each other since our (now over 50) daughters were in second grade. So we had a lot of catching up to do. When I got there I decided I needed a shower before we went out to dinner, so took one; should have jumped into the shower after I took off my hearing aids, but caught that mishap immediately and took them out. When I put them back on, after drying off and dressing, the left one didn’t work. I asked Bob where the nearest Costco was (he also purchased his hearing aids there), but he discouraged me from trying to go to the one in Chrystal City, the closest. He said it was really difficult to get an appointment, and that the appointment was needed. So that night and the next day, I managed with one. Then we went out to dinner at a Thai place, and their daughter Anna joined us. So I got to see her as well. They are, like me, retired, but very active. Bob’s family is from Croatia, via Chicago, and they frequently make trips to that part of Europe. We could spend days together and not get fully caught up. The second night we ate steak at home, then watched a movie about Axis Sally before bed. The next morning after breakfast, I headed off to Charlottesville.

My nephew, John Tordoff, lives in Charlottesville, and his parents, Dani and Michael were visiting there as part of our plan to get together while on this trip. For those who don’t know, Dani is my sister-in-law and spent some of her growing-up in our house. We agreed to meet at Burton’s, a restaurant on the main drag, but I had difficulty finding it. Finally pulled out my phone and figured out how to get there for a late lunch. Afterwards, Dani and I went to the Costco nearby and the service was exceptionally: they cleaned both my hearing aids and got the left one to work again, and showed me how to fix things myself, if it happened again. They did this despite not being able to find me in their data base. After, we stopped at Trader Joe’s and I picked up a six-pack of beer to take to John’s condo where I stayed.

We all went out to breakfast the next morning, then returned to rest before out trip to Monticello to tour the house and grounds of our third president, Thomas Jefferson. I have been before, but years ago. The tour made me realized what a genius he was. After, we returned to our respective residences and rested before Dani and Mike showed up at John’s to fix us a nice chicken and salad for dinner.

I met John’s friend, McCall, who works for the UN and is currently assigned to a post in South Sudan as a lawyer. I learned a great deal from her about the situation in South Sudan while at the dinner table over two nights. Sorry I couldn’t hang out to for the Memorial picnic. Instead, on Monday, Memorial Day, I got up, had coffee, worked on this blog, ate, then hit the road.

Drove 654 miles, 600 of them planned, and will drive to Oskaloosa, IA, tomorrow.

I arrived in Westminster on Saturday, after spending the night in Frederick. I drove first to the Best Western to check on hotel arrangements. I didn’t have a reservation for Saturday night, but was fortunate because while standing at the desk someone cancelled for that night so a room was available. After making arrangements, I drove out to Good Friendship Farm (it is on the National Historic Registry) to say hello to Beckie, Nick, Stephen and Pepper. Nick and Beckie Herrick are friends met through the Roop/Royer association, initially at Roop/Royer reunions. I didn’t see either of the people when I first arrived, but Stephen, the German shepherd watched me from the front porch as a I approached. As I got near the house, Nick showed up on a 4-wheeler and we drove down to the pond, where Beckie was cleaning out algae. We walked up to the house together while she told me of all the things that had to be accomplished before her youngest daughter’s wedding next weekend. The three of us chatted for a while, then went indoors for lunch. I said hello to Pepper, their 14-year old black Lab. He acted like he recognized me, because he parked himself right under my feet while I had lunch. After lunch, I returned to the hotel and moved my stuff into my room. I called Gary but no answer, so I left a message. A second message as it turned out.

Roger Gary Roop was born in January, 1931, so he was more than a decade older than me, but we shared an interest in genealogy and talked a lot about the possible origins of the Roops in Germany and Switzerland. His companion, Joanne, lived in the same retirement facilities, Carroll Lutheran Village, just South of Westminster on state highway 31. While he was able, Gary would go to the original Rupp Cemetery in Lancaster and maintain it: cut the grass, prop up the fallen headstones, pull weeds, repair the wall and gate, etc. But he suffered from back pains so he had to quit doing that. Part of my reason for this trip was to return a disk that Gary had loaned me with videos of Julia Roop Cairns talking about the things she had learned about the Roop family in Carroll County. On Sunday I spent most of the day on the Pelican Brief, but was worried about not hearing back from Gary, so I drove to Carroll Lutheran Village and asked one of the residents about Gary. Then I learned that he had died just a few days before I arrived in Westminster. Grief. I have lost a good friend and I will miss him.

I returned to Good Friendship Farm to hand off the DVD to Beckie to give to Gary’s son, Roger Thor Roop, and told her about what I had learned. I didn’t stay around after that, I needed time alone and they had much to do.

On Monday I got up and drove to the Meadow Branch Brethren Church to visit the Cemetery and take pictures of gravestones, as part of my preparation for the third genealogy book, tentatively titled: The Roop-Royers of Carroll County. The first book has the descendants of Christian; the one in draft covers the descendants of Joseph and David; the last will feature the descendants of John, who married Catherine Royer, and Anna, who married Peter Royer. I found headstones for three of the four and photographed them, but I couldn’t be sure about Catherine’s headstone. Surely it would be next to John’s, but what was there was small and I couldn’t read the inscription. So I walked into the Meadow Branch Church and struck up a conversation with Amy Bell, the pastor, who just happened to be an IT instructor at the local college. While the church and cemetery are obviously related, there is a separate association for each, so she gave me the name of the person to call, Matt Black, and he sent me a link to Catherine’s grave on Find-A-Grave. I pulled it up on my computer, and sure enough, it was the little headstone right next to John’s. I learned, while talking to folks in the church, that Meadow Branch would celebrate its 200th anniversary in four years. Before there was a building, the congregation would meet in the homes of Christian Royer and David Roop, respectively, Peter and Anna’s oldest son and John and Catherine’s oldest son. Hope I’m able to get back to the celebration.

I spent the rest of the day between the Historical Society (which wasn’t officially open, but they checked on my membership and let me buy a couple of things from the store) and the library. Tomorrow I will drive down to see Peggy and Jock.

I left Dayton just a bit before 8 am, on I-70 headed east. I went around Columbus because I saw this strip of red on the google map just before 70 connects with 270, the circumferential freeway around the city. From there to Wheeling, WV was a fairly short trip, even with a brief rest stop just before Wheeling. Lot of construction there, so spent some time stop and go before the traffic started to clear up. I kept wondering when I would hit I-79, the route to Morgantown, but it was there, just not until Washington, PA.

Down to Morgantown on I-79, exited the freeway at the U WV exit and managed to get totally lost. I called up Harper, who talked me to his house. My relationship with Harper goes back to when we both worked at the Economic Research Service of the US Department of Agriculture, forty-something years ago. So I walked into his house, gave him a big hug, and started recalling things from years ago. After a few minutes his wife, Jeannie, joined us and the conversation eased into a discussion about genealogy, which is wont to happen when two people into genealogy start talking. After a while Jeannie, who had been through four airports the night before getting back to Morgantown, excused herself and Harper and I went off to get a bite to eat at the Boston Beanery and continue our reminiscence.

It says something powerful that two chums can meet after forty-something years and start into a conversation like the last time they talked was a month ago. And that happened twice on this trip. Harper mentioned that the crew that included the three of us use to meet after work at L’Enfant Plaza, pick up a six-pack of beer (or two) and shoot the breeze, often about work, but mostly just as a way of bonding. Those bonds turn out to be pretty strong.

After lunch Harper drove along the route I needed to take to get back to the freeway, then we went back to his house. We said our goodbyes and I headed off to Frederick. I sort of followed his instructions: I took a wrong turn, but got back on track with just a short detour. I took Harper’s instructions to drive south on I-79, pick up I-68 which goes through Hagerstown then reconnects with I-70 before Frederick. I got to Frederick about 6 pm, so Friday was the longest day I had spent on the road since the beginning of the trip.

The next morning, after I checked out of the hotel in Frederick, I drove directly to Westminster, and knowing it was too early to check into the motel, I went to Becky and Nick Herrick’s place; I had gotten in touch with Becky the night before. Becky and Nick are part of the group of folks I have gotten to know in Carroll County, all of which are related, though distantly. Nick and Becky are working feverishly to get ready for the marriage of their youngest daughter, Susanna, this coming weekend. The wedding is an all-weekend affair, that starts Friday evening and ends on Sunday, that reminded me of Escape to the Chateau, the PBS series. Bless them, they took time off from chores to talk with me for a while, then feed me a very nice lunch, then a tour of Nick’s garden. I also reacquainted myself with their old Lab and met Susanna’s German Shepherd, Stephen (and I’m not sure I have spelled the dog’s name right).

One of the reasons I’m here is to see Gary Roop, another distant cousin, that I’ve grown attached to; he has done a lot of work on genealogy and use to be the care-taker of the Rupp Cemetery in Lancaster County, PA, where Christian Rupp, the original immigrant is buried. Hope to catch up with him tomorrow.