52Ancestors - Woolsey Saga A Genealogical Journey Through Brick Walls

How the First Brick Wall Crumbled

My breakthrough with William's identity came in a way I never expected—through an online message board post. After years of traditional research yielded no results, I cast a wider net by posting what little information I had about William on a genealogy forum. I described his Iowa birth, his claim about an abusive Irish stepmother, and his refusal to discuss his family.

Months passed with no response, until someone named John Woolsey replied that he knew of a William Woolsey in his family tree who fit this description—a William who was born in Iowa and had disappeared from family records at a young age. The pieces started falling into place as we began comparing notes and family stories. We were looking at the same person from different perspectives: I from the viewpoint of William's descendants who knew nothing of his origins, and John from the perspective of a family who had lost track of a young relative generations ago.

The coincidence became even more remarkable when we discovered that John and I were both born and raised in Modesto, California! He told me he had once asked his father if they were related to the Woolseys in the local phone book—who turned out to be my grandfather and father. We had lived in the same community, likely passing each other in stores or on streets, never knowing we were distant cousins connected through William.

The final confirmation came through DNA testing, which proved conclusively that John and I were indeed related through Richard Woolsey, William's father. Technology had succeeded where traditional genealogy had stalled, connecting branches of a family tree that had been deliberately separated for over a century.

Understanding William's Story

Once the brick wall came down, William's cryptic statement about running away from "an abusive Irish stepmother" began to make sense in the context of his chaotic early life. William was born in 1865 to Richard W. Woolsey and Charlotte Ann (Beck) Woolsey, just as the Civil War ended. Both of his parents had lost previous spouses and brought children into their new marriage—Richard had six children from his marriage to Alice Susan Buck, who died in 1862, and Charlotte had four children from her marriage to John Nolan, who died in 1863.

This enormous blended family apparently didn't last long. By 1870, when William was only four years old, the family had already fractured. Richard had moved to Creswell, Kansas, with five of his six children from his first marriage (Caroline had married and stayed in Indiana), while Charlotte was living in Lincoln, Kansas, with her four Nolan children and young William—the only Woolsey in the household.

By 1875, Charlotte had married again, this time to James Kennedy, who already had three children of his own. In census records from that year, Charlotte is listed as "C.A. Kennedy," living with this new blended family. This household must have been extraordinarily complicated between the Nolan children, Kennedy children, William Woolsey, and a new baby named Ella. William, being the only Woolsey in a home of Nolans and Kennedys, would have felt like an outsider.

Tragedy struck again in 1876 when Charlotte died at just 38 years old, leaving 11-year-old William effectively orphaned. By this time, Richard was no longer available to take in his son—records show he had already left Kansas for the Inland Northwest. The 1880 census shows William—enumerated by his middle name George—living as a "boarder" in the home of his half-sister Eva (Woolsey) Brown in Arkansas City. This temporary arrangement didn't last long before William chose to run away and forge his own path.

What William described as an "abusive Irish stepmother" was likely referring to his complex relationship with James Kennedy's family after his mother remarried. His decision to run away and cut ties with his past was clearly motivated by the trauma of family dissolution, parental abandonment, and the strain of being shuffled between households where he never quite belonged. Understanding this history has finally provided context for the wall of silence William maintained throughout his life.

The New Brick Wall: Daniel Woolsey

With William's identity mystery solved, my research has now turned to our more distant ancestry. William's father, Richard W. Woolsey, was born around 1822 in New York to Richard Woolsey Sr. and Susan Purdy. Richard Sr.'s parents were Daniel Woolsey and Anna Halstead.

Daniel Woolsey, my 4th great-grandfather, has become the next significant brick wall in my genealogical journey. What makes Daniel particularly intriguing is that he was a Revolutionary War soldier who has a recognized DAR (Daughters of the American Revolution) number. While this confirms his service to the young nation, many aspects of his life remain shrouded in historical shadows.

As I research Daniel's life and lineage, I face different challenges than those I encountered with William. While William's brick wall was created by his deliberate choice to conceal his past, the challenges with Daniel stem from the limitations of surviving records from the Revolutionary War era. He will be another subject in my ongoing series of Woolsey Saga books, as I piece together the story of this patriot ancestor.

Richard W. Woolsey, the connecting link between William and Daniel, led a remarkably mobile life himself. Born in New York, he later lived in Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, and Washington State and then spent a significant period—nearly 20 years—in Arizona before being brought back to Arkansas City, Kansas, where he died in 1891. His westward movements paralleled America's own expansion during the 19th century.

New Research Tools

Tackling these genealogical challenges requires approaches that weren't available when I first began researching William. DNA testing has been particularly valuable, connecting me with distant Woolsey cousins and confirming family connections that paper records alone couldn't establish.

Through digital repositories like FamilySearch and Ancestry, I've gained access to previously unavailable archives. These platforms continue to add new collections that might eventually contain crucial documents that break through these walls. Working with local historical societies where Woolsey ancestors lived has also provided access to resources like cemetery records, tax lists, and private family papers that contain valuable clues.

Perhaps most valuable has been collaborating with other Woolsey researchers through online communities. We share discoveries, cross-reference findings, and collectively work to solve these ancestral puzzles. These groups' combined knowledge and resources can accomplish what individual researchers might not.

Conclusion

The journey from William's brick wall to the challenges of researching Daniel illustrates how family history research evolves. Breaking through one mystery often reveals another, and the search continues across generations. William's story was ultimately about personal choice and emotional survival—a deliberate severing of family ties that left a genealogical gap. The challenges with Daniel speak to the fragility of historical records and the challenge of piecing together lives from centuries past.

Through these brick walls, I've learned that persistence, adaptability, and community are essential tools for the family historian. Sometimes, solutions come from unexpected places—a chance online connection, a newly digitized document, or a DNA match that reveals a previously unknown branch of the family.

William's secret past remained hidden for over a century until modern technology and networking helped solve the mystery. I'm hopeful that Daniel's story will similarly come into clearer focus through continued research and collaborative efforts. Each brick wall that falls expands our family tree and deepens our understanding of the complex, resilient individuals whose lives and choices shaped our own.

As I continue this genealogical journey, I'm reminded that family history is never truly finished—it's a continuing conversation with the past, with each discovery opening doors to new questions and connections. The brick walls we encounter aren't endpoints but invitations to dig deeper, think more creatively, and understand more fully the complex tapestry of our family history.

If you want to start reading the Woolsey Saga, begin with "A Mother's Last Gift"