My Romani Roots and My upcoming book: The Last Wagon

I'm going to reshare this post because this post was the beginning of the journey I am currently on and why I have had so little time for my blog. The discovery I made and the stories and pieces that Rhonda, Nancy, and now Lana have shared with me have prompted me to write a book about my Romani ancestors. I have been working on this book for months, but now that I have the basic book written, now comes the fun task of revising and being critical of my own writing in order to make it worth putting out there for others to enjoy.

The title of the book is The Last Wagon. In just 100 years of history, I uncovered a lot about my Romani ancestors and cousins that I felt compelled to write a book about it. Here is an excerpt from the book:

On a crisp winter day in 1926, a band of Gypsies, rolled into town in grand wagons that overshadowed any humble abode anchored to the earth. The distant sound of an ominous train whistle pierced the autumn air, foretelling what was to come. The children paused their games, drawn to the ornate wagons that brought back familiar strangers every winter. Curious onlookers gathered on the station platform, some welcoming, some wary. Storekeepers stood in their doorways, reminiscing about past trade seasons, while others closed their curtains at the sight of the approaching caravans. The Mason family had been making their winter camp in Leigh, Nebraska, for years, and they were known for their horse trading and participation in the rodeo. But this winter, their presence would end in tragedy.

The town's barber chair would be stained with blood. Usually bustling with life, the custom-built wagon now stood silent in the Nebraska winter. Its green-painted interior and chrome dividers starkly contrasted the violence that brought the Masons to this moment. Inside the wagon, untouched since morning, lay their mother's simple kitchen utensils. These everyday tools would soon spark a tragedy that some had foretold.

As the days passed, the once lively camp was filled with an eerie silence. The only sound was the distant howling wind and the occasional whispered words of the grieving Mason family. The winter had brought more than just the usual horse-trading and rodeo competitions. It had brought a sense of foreboding, a sense of something dark and tragic waiting to unfold. The town of Leigh, usually a peaceful and welcoming place, now held a heavy air of suspicion and fear. Once familiar and accepted, the Mason family was now seen as outsiders with a dark secret.

But this is where the journey started:

Family roots are never simple lines; they are always tangles. Recently, my mother did her DNA, and her ethnicity was no surprise to me. Though I had not found her Irish immigrant ancestor, I didn't doubt that he and/or she were back there somewhere. A short redhead with a fiery personality and a maiden name of Roe screamed Irish to me. It turns out that, yes, she is about one-quarter Irish, but the question was, from where?

The research began years ago on my mother's paternal line. One of my first posts about my grandfather Von Joseph "Rusty" Roe was the WWII Records, 1973 Fire, written in February 2007. Sadly, the discovery of this news closed some doors that would have allowed me to get to know the man I never knew. I was about two years old when my Grandpa Roe died, so I do not remember him. I did, however, learn bits and pieces from my mother, Aunt Mary, and Aunt Dawna, his three daughters. Through them, I was able to compile the details in the previously mentioned blog post. I knew his father was Frank Roe, and through Aunt Mary, I learned that Frank had a brother, Piere, but we didn't know who their parents were.

In March of 2009, some two years later, I made a small breakthrough. I found a census record, which did finally tell me Frank's parents were Jerry and Rachell Roe, and that he had one more baby brother we knew nothing about. Though from the census I now knew there were still two more siblings we didn't know. I had spent countless hours researching this family over those two years, and all I came up with was a census record?! Seriously, I was perplexed. This was the only line of my family at this point that I wasn't at least four generations deep from my parents! I was frustrated. That's when I wrote my fourth "Madness Monday" post, "Madness Monday - Jerry Roe born abt 1861". By this time I was seriously mad with frustration. 

This family was so elusive that I couldn't seem to find anything more. I sent off to Oklahoma archives trying to locate possible death records and birth records I knew would be useless, and even obtained a copy of the Dawes Rolls to search since Rachell, the mother of my great-grandfather Frank, had claimed to be half Chippewa Indian. That's right, if this were true, this fair-complected redhead would be 1/32 Native American. 

For years, this really seemed to be a mystery I would never solve. A year or so after I found the census record, I finally came across a marriage record for Rachel Mason and J.J. Roe in Missouri. I knew in my heart it had to be them, but there was still no definitive proof. Then suddenly, in 2012, there was a Find-A-Grave memorial for Rachel Roe in Ponce City, Oklahoma. Finally, something more. This told me she was born in Winnipeg, Canada in 1861, which I knew from the census that she was born in Canada, but still nothing on Jerry. Even to this day, I have never found what happened to Jerry.

Once again, my research would stall for years, and then I lost my job, went back to school, and life got crazy. Recently, however, the brick wall has begun to crumble. I bought a DNA test through Ancestry.com and asked my mom if she would do a DNA test. She was more than happy to do so, as she had been curious recently and was hoping I would find more. While we waited impatiently for her tests to come back this past spring, I had a spring break where I finally had some time away from homework to do some research. 

I began looking at Piere and Frank's brother Jaybird, the baby. I never understood why my mom and her sisters never knew anything about him. In recent years, Missouri has done a fabulous job of making its records available online. In my week of research, I came across a 1930 census showing Jay Roe as a patient at the Central Oklahoma State Hospital. I also found his death certificate in Missouri showing that he had died on 27 May 1932 in Vernon, Missouri. He died of Tetanus, caused by an accidental burn on his lower limb, and once again, his residence was at the State Hospital #3 in Vernon, Missouri. I knew there had to be a story on this. I then looked for a newspaper article. I can't find it today, but I do remember reading that he had a seizure and fell into the fire, burning his leg severely, which would later result in his death. 

Well, that explained what happened to Jaybird and why the sisters never knew about him. It's very likely my own grandfather didn't know about his uncle. That still, however, didn't shed any light on who Rachell and Jerry were or where they came from. For that answer, I would have to wait until we got back my mother's DNA test.

Finally, after waiting two months, we had her DNA test back, but as luck would have it, I was in the middle of finals, so it would have to wait. Mid-May came and I was now a graduate with a degree as a paralegal, now it was time to get back to my real passion. One of the first mysteries I tackled was my mother's paternal line. 

First, I connected to a 2nd cousin to my mother, only to not hear from her after a short while, but then came the most important connection, Ronda Krug. Ronda showed up as a 3rd - 4th cousin. There weren't many names on her tree, but one certainly caught my attention, Jess Johnathon Roe. When I contacted Ronda, she responded and was excited to compare notes on our Roe ancestry. However, she asked me one strange question that caught me off guard, "did your mom speak Romani, and were your mom and dad both gypsy?" Did my family what?! Are you serious? I wasn't put off by the idea; it intrigued me, but I would have never thought to even look in that direction because my family had never spoken of it. 

The more I thought about what she asked, the more it began to make sense. It was that one little question that got me thinking and prompted me to look at my mother's paternal line in a whole new light. One that would bring the wall crashing down. Now, it all made sense. I always wondered why and what would prompt my mother's great-grandparents to move all over the country. Rachell was born in Canada, Jerry in Iowa, they were married in Missouri, Frank was born in Iowa or Missouri, Piere was born in Minnesota, and Jaybird was born in Kansas. That has to be it. They were Gypsies!

There was still a part that was nagging me that didn't make sense. The distant cousins that my mother shares DNA with are Roe descendants of one Jeremiah Roe, born in 1750 Ireland were well-established members of society, and none of them show signs of being Gypsies or even moving much. Most of them settled in Minnesota, Illinois, and Iowa. Well, there are those two states again, Minnesota and Iowa, but for the life of me, I still have yet to discover how and where my Jerry Roe fits into this family tree. I have rebuilt a family tree for the descendants of Jeremiah Roe. Well, mostly, it's still a work in progress, and yet I still don't see a connection; however, I share a connection with many descendants of Jerimiah Roe. 

Eventually, I decided the Roe's were not my Gypsie roots. It had to be Rachel who came from that lifestyle. I then turned my attention to Rachel Mason. After I compared more DNA matches, I was convinced that Rachel was the daughter of Frederick Mason and Sarah Rinehart I also looked at Rinehart DNA connection and a few have their Rinehart line that traces to John Rinehart 1814-1881, and some of them have Sarah the wife of Frederick Mason in their tree. The most important connection was Nancy, who not only matched my mom but also matched Ronda. Her family had put down roots, but she remembered the Mason "traveler cousins," as she called them, coming to visit on their way back and forth from Canada to Oklahoma. I shifted gears and focused on the Mason line in the hopes that it would lead me to our connection between Jerry Roe and his ancestors I know he descends from Jeremiah Roe the Irish immigrant. 

When I came across this amazing gem, it all made perfect sense.

Then, when I read the margin, I wrote this to Ronda and the rest of my cousins who had been following my journey at this point;

OMG! OMG! I'm doing the happy dance and my co-workers are laughing at me! This is Rachel Mason's family. She is on the first line of the next page, but I copied this page because of what it says in the margin, "These families have been camping here for the last few weeks." OMG! Ronda Krug this is more proof of the gypsie connection and now I believe my theory is correct. I think Jerry Roe was not a Gypsie because I'm finding no evidence of any of the Roe family being gypsies. For generations, they were well-established members of their communities, but I suspected that Jerry married a gypsie and then began to travel with her family. The Mason's are where our Gypsie roots come from!!!!!!!!!

It got better when I read the margin on the next page:

"These families have been camping in the city for some weeks. Some of them claim to be Cherokee Indian and others claim to be gypsie. I perhaps one many may be Indian. The women are all darker than the men. They may be Indian and gypsie mixed."

There it is, not only the Gypsie, but the Native American connection. My mom's DNA tells me she wasn't Native American, but this tells me that she likely could pull it off because of her looks.

It was a beautiful moment. The journey will continue, but I may never have made this breakthrough without DNA.