As I begin this blog today, there is some background information I want you to know. Fifty plus years ago when I started this quest of family history, driven by a profound curiosity about my roots, I discovered that the Church of Latter Day Saints collected data on family histories. It is part of their religion to remember their ancestors and in doing so make the information collected available to anyone free of charge. This commitment to preserving the past not only honors their lineage but also extends a hand to those like me, eager to uncover their own heritages. Over the years, I have marveled at the extensive archives and databases they have curated, which have proven to be an invaluable resource for me as I pieced together the stories of my ancestors. This remarkable initiative has allowed countless individuals to connect with their heritage, bridging gaps between generations and rekindling the memories of those who came before us, enriching our understanding of who we are today. There are still Hoffmeiers in Switzerland that share my DNA and there are Kirchhgassners in Germany. If you are interested and want to use this free service go to familysearch.org. As a side note, when Googling famous Kirchgassners for my research, Dr. Brooks Kirchgassner is listed!
After communicating with volunteers from the Church of Latter Day Saints in 1975, I learned that tracing my family lineage should only be completed along blood lines–and living in the Middle Ages, the search could only be completed by legitimate blood lines. As many of you know, I am a Kirchgassner in name only as I do not have the DNA to make me one; however, the essence of belonging transcends mere genetic ties. But after decades of research and learning, I am a believer in the way the Ancient Romans lived. If a citizen of Rome adopted a child, that child had every right of the father, be it in property, status, or community belonging. This speaks volumes about the nature of family; it is not solely about blood but also the bonds we create and the love we share. And that is the way the Kirchgassner family treated my line–the extended family of the Kirchgassners made us one of their own, encompassing us with warmth and acceptance. We never questioned the relationship; rather, we embraced it wholeheartedly, cherishing the connections that defined us as a family, both in history and in spirit.
Thinking further, dad was the only one in Yorkville of his age, in 1917, and one of the 4 percent nationwide who was raised by a stepfather, (Michael Kirchgassner), a situation that was quite rare during his upbringing. This unique circumstance shaped his worldview significantly; Dad often conveyed to me that his childhood was “rough,” primarily due to being the subject of relentless teasing since his biological father was absent from his life. Not only was he subjected to innuendo remarks from peers, but Grandma Dorie and Grandpa Mike, his steadfast supporters, endured their share of judgments as well, which only added to the challenges the family faced. However, through it all, Dad harbored a deep love for the Kirchgassner name and Yorkville, Indiana, viewing it as a proud legacy that he was determined to uphold and pass on to his children. He held his children to a high standard, instilling values of integrity and resilience, as he did not want the family name to be tarnished by any missteps. His commitment to honor the Kirchgassner name became a guiding principle in my life, emphasizing the importance of family heritage and the responsibilities that come with it.
From the resources from familysearch.org, I discovered ten generations of Kirchgassners that lived before me. The first was John George Kirchgassner, born in 1620 in the Baden-Wurttemberg of Deutschland, a region known for its stunning landscapes and rich cultural heritage. John George must have lived close to the church in the village as Kirchgassner means “church lane.” John George was a shepherd (Schafer), guiding his flock through rolling hills and valleys, and interestingly spelled the surname with an extra “e,” rendering it as “Kirchgaessner.” This unique spelling, along with the family’s tradition of being sheep herders, was a legacy that continued for many generations throughout the Kirchgaessners, symbolizing their deep connection to the pastoral life of their homeland. As the years flowed on, some of the Kirchgaessner’s transitioned from pastoral livelihoods and became master tailors (Schneidermeisters), honing the craft of garment making with skill and precision. One descendant, my great-great grandfather, Andreas Kirchgassner, was born some two hundred years after George in the same picturesque region, became a bricklayer (Maurermeisters) who contributed to the building of enduring structures that would stand the test of time, thus weaving the family’s narrative into the very fabric of the community’s history.
The first Kirchgassner to arrive in America was Andrew (1862-1936), age 22, son of Andreas. (Andrew was my great grandfather.) He left the Deutschland solo and immigrated to America in 1885 on the ship Waesland, which docked in New York. (To put in perspective of today, that would be like Elizabeth Kirchgassner, who is of similar age, leaving Yorkville to venture to a new country not knowing the language or customs. During Andrew’s time, he probably knew upon leaving he would not see his parents again. Cannot imagine the range of emotions that he encountered.) The ship’s manifest indicated his last name as Kirchgassner and noted his occupation as a farmer, reflecting the agrarian lifestyle he was accustomed to in his homeland. After arriving in the port of New York, Andrew embarked on a journey to Lafayette, Indiana, where the vast farmlands and welcoming community drew him in. It was in Lafayette that he crossed paths with Barbara Brichler (Brickler) (1861-1927); they eventually married and settled in Yorkville, Indiana after the birth of their children. Barbara’s family had laid down their roots in Yorkville, –before 1850–contributing to the tapestry of the local culture. The shared history of the homeland likely fostered a significant bond between the Kirchgassner and Brichler families, suggesting that there was a connection in Lafayette that brought them together. Indeed, some of their children grew up in Yorkville but later moved back to Lafayette, continuing the family legacy. Interestingly, the Kirchgassners residing in Lafayette have altered the spelling of their surname to Kirchgessner, possibly to better align with American phonetics or to distinguish themselves within the community. Such changes often reflect the broader journey of immigrant families adapting to their new lives while preserving their heritage. (When asked about the different spelling of Kirchgassner, Grandma Dorie did not offer an opinion,
Andrew (1862-1936) and Barbara (1861-1927) had four children that survived to adulthood: Mary (1894-?), Michael (1896-1966), Aloysius (1899-1989) and Isadore (1904-1987). Mary, the eldest, married Henry Borman (Boiman) in 1921 and moved to Cincinnati. No other information is available on her to date. The different spellings of her last name has impeded my research. Grandpa Mike, married Grandma Dorie in 1920 and they lived their married life at the Kirchgassner farm in Yorkville until Grandpa’s passing on Easter Sunday 1966. Aloysius moved back to Lafayette, farmed, married and had five children, Joseph, Charlie, Lee, Delores and Helen. Isadore died from heart failure and had worked in a lumber company in Lafayette, married and was survived by step-children. Isadore and Al came to visit Grandma and Grandpa periodically. I don’t remember Grandma and Grandpa going to Lafayette though. And Mary, Grandpa Mike’s sister, I never met her….. Grandpa Mike and his siblings always talked about their corn crops–and a good crop was “knee high by the 4th of July.”
Things I remember from Grandma Dorie: We opened gifts on Christmas Eve as that was the tradition in Germany, allowing for an extra touch of magic before the holiday morning. I recall one specific Christmas Eve when Dad took Mark and me to Grandma Dorie’s for a visit. Upon returning home, Dad looked up in the sky and told Mark and me that we had just missed Santa at our house on Burtzelbach, a moment that made our hearts race with anticipation. Sure enough, when we busted through the door, our gifts were there, all wrapped under the twinkling lights of the tree. About the same time, I asked Grandma about our relatives in Germany—the Kirchgassners. She stated that she and Grandpa communicated with them until after World War II. At the end of the war, a letter came from Germany, requesting Grandma to send silk stockings, a stark reminder of the times. Grandma told me she could not afford the stockings, as the war had caused many shortages, including not having extra cash for luxuries. She did not respond; she never heard from them again. As a child, I was disappointed that we had lost touch with the Kirchgassners in Germany. As an adult, I think, “YEAH for Grandma Dorie!” She had survived two World Wars and the Great Depression while keeping her family farm “going,” a testament to her resilience and determination. Some of the old-timers told me Grandma worked as hard on the land as any man, tirelessly tending to the crops and livestock. Grandma did not live above her means and was known to sew the holes in her old stockings before discarding them, a practice born out of necessity that reflected her resourcefulness. In 1945, stockings were not a priority for her; instead, she focused on what truly mattered—her family and the sustainability of their lives amidst the trials they faced after a war coming to an end.
The circle of our immediate Kirchgassner ancestors was small as dad was an only child. Some of the Kirchgessners in Lafayette would come to Yorkville for a visit, bringing with them stories and histories that painted a picture of our family heritage. Me, I never have been to where the Kirchgessners called home in northern Indiana, a place steeped in our family’s history and identity. Piecing it all together, Andreas and Maria Anna Kirchgassner, both of whom died on the same day of the same year in 1903—had four children who were the foundation of our lineage. Only Andrew and his brother Johann, who remained in Germany, continued the line of ancestry as the other siblings died early in their life, leaving behind a narrative full of untold stories and unanswered questions. I often wonder what Grandpa Mike (Andrew’s son) would think of all of us today, given the significant changes our lives have seen since his time. Carrying on his name with an “a?” might have amused him, never really knowing his opinion. He was a good man, quiet and a hardworking farmer, who enjoyed a beer and a pipe at the end of the day, often seen relaxing on the porch while the sun set over the fields. His ability to blow smoke rings from his pipe entertained his grandchildren many times, filling our family gatherings with laughter and warmth. When he died in his sleep, early in the morning of Easter Sunday 1966, I was with dad when he got the phone call, and I recall the shock washing over me like a heavy blanket. I just turned 13 a month before and remember that day vividly, the way the world felt suddenly colder and emptier. It was the first time I experienced the passing of a close relative and was not prepared for the grief that consumed me. Today, I reflect on the rich legacy he left behind. There is so much to be grateful for: Grandpa Mike lived and gave me the name that I truly love, a name that connects me to my roots and to my family. And because of him, I can proudly say we are “Kirchgassner Strong!”—a testament to the enduring spirit and the bonds that tie us together across generations of family.
Thanks Mary and Floyd for helping me with this blog…..and this Hoosier is praying for a Purdue victory tonight on Rachel Mersmann’s birthday! Happy Birthday Rachel! Fan Go Maith and Blessed be God!