July 26, 2025

Introducing Jacob William Beyl Jr.

🌿 Jacob William Beyl Jr.

Born in 1876 in Columbus, Indiana, Jacob William Beyl Jr. was the son of French and German immigrants who built a life—brick by brick, board by board—in the American Midwest. He worked as a carpenter, a laborer, and a woodworker throughout his life, often living in the company of his family but rarely mentioned outside the census forms and city directories that documented his comings and goings.

Jacob’s life was marked by simplicity and struggle. He never married, and by the end of his life in 1921, he was unemployed, isolated, and battling inner turmoil that few seemed to see coming. He died by suicide at the age of 45.

His death left behind not only grief, but also questions, heartbreak, and—eventually—this effort to understand and honor him.

We remember Jacob Jr. not for the manner of his death, but for the fullness of the life he lived before it. He was a son, a brother, an uncle. He was a craftsman whose hands built things—quietly, steadily. His story matters, and we’re here to keep it from being forgotten.

You can read the full story of his life and legacy on his Family Page.

💬 Tell Us What You Know

If you knew Jacob—or even if his story simply resonates with you—I hope you’ll share your thoughts in the comments below. Every thread, every memory, every fragment helps us piece together the human story behind the name.

🧡 If You’re Struggling

If you or someone you know is experiencing thoughts of self-harm or suicide, please know that you are not alone.

In the U.S., you can call or text 988 to reach the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline, available 24/7 and free of charge.
For more information or resources, visit: 988lifeline.org

There is hope. There is help. And there are people who care.

With care,
~Kris

July 26, 2025

Introducing Viola Mildred Beyl

Featuring: Viola Mildred Beyl (1914–2000)

Pull up a chair and settle in—this page begins with Viola Mildred Beyl, though you may know her simply as Mildred. Born in 1914 to a bakery family in Indiana, she grew up with flour in the air, laughter in the kitchen, and a head full of curls.

She went on to become a Buchanan, a mother, a homemaker, and the heart of every room she entered. Her life stretched across nearly a century of change—but no matter where she lived (and oh, did she move!), Mildred left a trail of kindness, food, and unforgettable stories.

This space is part of an ongoing tribute to the Beyl family line, starting with Mildred and branching outward to include the many names and generations connected to hers.

✍️ Share Your Memories

Did you know Mildred? Have a favorite story, recipe, or quirky family trait that reminds you of her? Add your voice in the comments section below. Even a single word—like “gardening” or “card shark”—helps keep the past alive.

🌿 Want more than just the highlights?
Visit the Family Page for Viola Mildred Beyl to see the timeline, photos, and deeper roots of her story.

📜 What’s Inside

Family records & photos
Census and city directory entries
Connections to the Buchanan line
Grave marker & Find A Grave memorial
Personal stories and reader memories

Whether you’re part of the Beyl family or just wandering through the branches, you’re welcome here. Mildred’s story is the starting point—but this tree has deep roots and plenty of shade.

With care,
Kris

July 26, 2025

Introducing John Edward Beyl

John Edward Beyl

1887–1966
📍 Columbus & Indianapolis, Indiana

Before becoming a bakery foreman, a World War I registrant, and the backbone of a growing Indiana household, John Edward Beyl was just a kid on Jackson Street with a pencil-thin frame and a future full of hard-earned chapters.

He lived through two World Wars, a Great Depression, and more address changes than a census clerk would care to count. Along the way, he raised a family of five, built a life out of labor, and left behind just enough paper trail to frustrate future researchers (present company included).

This page is the place to share memories, ask questions, or throw your theories into the ring—especially if you’ve got thoughts about the Margaret-vs-Mary E. mystery, or can help track down the elusive “liquor factory” job in 1910.

📝 Ready for a deeper dive?
Read John Edward Beyl’s whole life story here →

💬 Want to leave a note or connect with others?
Drop a comment below. We’re all just stories waiting to be remembered—and you might have a piece of his.

—

Originally published July 26, 2025
Page maintained by Kris
Narrative assistant: Bones (resident rascal & record-chaser)

July 26, 2025

Introducing Mary Elizabeth Beyl (1879–1916)

She was born the daughter of a French immigrant and a woman who changed names like seasons. Raised in a modest house on Jackson Street in Columbus, Indiana, Mary Elizabeth Beyl lived a life that rarely made headlines but quietly shaped the generations that followed her.

The records call her Mary, while her grave calls her Mollie. Her death certificate names one woman as her mother, while the census suggests another. And somewhere in the shuffle, a baby girl named Helen appeared in the household before Mary had her own children.

She married a wagon driver. She bore a daughter late in her twenties. She died too young, with illness written on her death certificate and love written on her stone.

Hers is not the story of a scandal or a rebellion—but of a woman who left behind just enough questions to keep a genealogist curious.

🕯️ Want to meet Mollie properly? Her full story—names, mysteries, and all—is waiting on her family page.

🔗 Read Her Full Story »

💬 Did you know Mary? Hear stories about her, or her daughters, or the Blake family? We’d love to hear what you remember. Leave a note in the comments—every memory helps bring her closer.

July 25, 2025

Introducing Grover Thomas Beyl

🧵 Meet Grover Thomas Beyl: The Meandering Butcher of Marion County

Today would have been Grover Thomas Beyl’s birthday—born July 25th, 1891 (or possibly 1892; the records squabble about it). He was a butcher by trade, a husband and father by heart, and a man whose journey through Columbus and Indianapolis left a trail of addresses, trades, and—eventually—tragedy.

Grover’s life wasn’t grand in the traditional sense. He didn’t leave behind books, buildings, or fame. What he did leave behind were butcher knives dulled by honest work, sidewalks warmed by decades of footsteps, and a family stitched into the fabric of Indiana history.

From carpentry to meat cutting, city directories to censuses, Grover’s story is one of movement—up Jackson Street, down Bates and Cruft, over to Kelly and Tabor. A map of his life reads like a humble heartbeat across Marion County. And his final chapter? A car crash on a late August day in 1938, ending his life but not his story.

This month, we’ve revisited Grover’s life in detail—from census records to draft cards, addresses now lost to parking lots, and one very poignant obituary. You can view the full timeline, explore his mapped journey, and dig into his story in the complete profile post here ➤.

🕯️ Did You Know Grover?

If you’re a descendant, distant cousin, neighbor, or just someone with an old family story tucked away—we want to hear from you.

Did your grandparents ever mention Grover? Do you have a family photo or recipe that might relate to this branch of the tree?

Drop a comment below or send a message. Sometimes the smallest detail—a tool brand, a street name, a whispered memory—can help us bring someone back to life more vividly than any document ever could.

Grover’s story is still unfolding—and you might just hold the next piece.

~Kris
🕵️‍♂️ Someone Peed in My Gene Pool

July 24, 2025

Introduction to Versa Eleanor Buchanan (1910–1998)

Resilient. Graceful. Unforgettable.
Posted by Kris | July 24, 2025 | Introduction Series

Versa Eleanor Buchanan was born on a sunlit July morning in 1910 in St. Francisville, Illinois. The daughter of a preacher and a woman with Missouri roots, she grew up surrounded by sermons, lullabies, and the quiet strength of a close-knit family. But Versa wasn’t content to simply be a part of the story—she became a woman who wrote her own chapters.

She married young, during the uncertainty of the Great Depression, and spent her early years working as a saleslady in Indianapolis, living under the roof of her mother-in-law and helping support the household. When that first marriage unraveled, Versa didn’t crumble—she evolved. She raised a daughter, earned her own income, and went on to forge a career as a photographer, capturing the light in others even as she shaped her own second act.

Versa worked behind the camera for over twenty years. She retired in 1977, long after she’d traded in the roles of wife and salesgirl for that of artist and independent woman. In her later years, she remarried, built a quieter life with Robert E. Laird, and lived out her days in Indianapolis—the same city where her daughter had been born and where, decades later, Versa herself would pass.

She now rests at Crown Hill Cemetery. No grand monuments, no fame. But her story? Her story matters.

Versa Eleanor Buchanan may not have left behind many photographs of herself, but she left behind something just as lasting—proof that a life can be quiet and still powerful. That a woman can live through heartbreak, reinvention, and generational change, and still leave the world a little more luminous than she found it.

💬 Do you remember Versa? Did she photograph you, know your family, or leave behind a story in your corner of the world? Please share your memories or reflections below—we’d love to help keep her story alive, one comment at a time.

With warmth,
~Kris

July 21, 2025

Introducing Yolande Annie Biver

Yo Was Her Name, Yellow Roses Her Joy

A Glimpse into the Life of Yolande Annie Biver

If you grew up in the 35th Street house, you knew it by the sound of 10 kids playing and the quiet strength of a woman named Yolande Annie Biver — or just “Yo” to those who loved her.

Born in Phoebus, Virginia, on August 26, 1933, Yolande was the daughter of French immigrants who built their American dreams on grit and grace. She grew up with sisters, laughter, and a little mischief, eventually joining the Future Homemakers of America and graduating from Hampton High.

At just 18 years old, she married Louis Miller in Indianapolis. Together, they raised ten children in a tiny three-bedroom house — a space bursting with bunk beds, old school lockers, sibling scuffles, and fierce love. Even after Louis left the home but continued to support the family financially, Yo never once abandoned her values. As a devout Catholic, she remained faithful to her vows — and to her role as a mother, grandmother, and quiet matriarch.

She was strict, but she loved purely and deeply. She favored yellow roses, and if you were lucky enough to get a glimpse of her rare smile, you’d remember it for a lifetime.

When she passed away on February 28, 2009, she left behind ten children, 25 grandchildren, and 45 great-grandchildren. Her impact echoes not just in names and dates — but in values passed down, stories still told, and the sacred memory of her gentle fire.