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Birth name
Lois Catherine Buchanan
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Place of Birth
Ridgeway, Illinois, US
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Place of Death
Indianapolis, Indiana, US
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Burial Place
Crown Hill Cemetery, Indianapolis, Indiana, US
Meet Lois Catherine Buchanan
On a warm August day in 1914, Lois Catherine Buchanan made her debut in the sleepy town of Ridgeway, Illinois. She was the daughter of Maurice Buchanan, a dedicated Methodist minister, and Pearl Wilton, his steadfast wife. Records from Indiana death certificates and Social Security claims confirm her birthdate and lineage.

A Preacher’s Daughter
By the time the 1920 census was taken, Lois was five years old, living with her family on Lafayette Street in Winslow, Pike County, Indiana. Her father, Maurice, now 36, served as a preacher—a role that shaped much of Lois’s early life. The household was bustling with energy: her mother Pearl, age 29, her older sister Versa, and her twin brothers, Charles and Carlin.

A decade later, the Buchanans relocated to Loogootee, Martin County, Indiana. Maurice had become a Methodist Pastor, and Lois—now 15—shared the parsonage with her parents and brothers. The family’s roots traced back to Illinois and Missouri, yet their lives were shaped by itinerant ministry and the steady rhythm of church and community life.
A Love Story in the Heart of Indianapolis
In the fall of 1935, Reverend Buchanan and Pearl joyfully announced their daughter’s engagement to Robert Daniel Boone, son of Omer and Mrs. Boone. The wedding was held on October 4 at Roberts Park M.E. Church, likely officiated by her father.

The newlyweds settled into married life in Indianapolis. By 1936, they lived at 556 N. Gray Street, where Robert worked as a serviceman for the Royal Typewriter Company.

In 1940, the couple had moved to a modest home on East 22nd Street, which they shared with Robert’s younger cousin and a lodger. Lois, though not employed outside the house, was clearly at the heart of this small, interconnected household.

Their first child, Michael Daniel Boone, was born just before midnight on August 11, 1940, at Methodist Hospital in Indianapolis. Lois was listed as a housewife—devoted to caring for her new son, while Robert continued his work in sales with Royal Typewriter.

Wartime and the Postwar Years
Robert registered for the World War II draft not long after, still residing with Lois at 715 E. 22nd Street.

As the 1950 census rolled around, the Boone family had grown to include daughter Marilyn, and they were living at 2730 East 62nd Street. Lois, then 35, was raising her family full-time, and she was joined in the household by her sister, Versa Benedict.

By 1960, Robert had risen to the position of General Manager at Scholer & Waters, and the couple remained in their 62nd Street home. Their lives, though modest, were rich in family ties and community presence.

A New Chapter
After more than four decades of marriage, Lois and Robert parted ways. In 1978, at age 63, Lois married James Steven Kiraly, a retired gentleman from Ohio. The two were married in Marion County, Indiana. Lois was a secretary then and had moved to Riverfront Avenue, while James resided on North Pennsylvania Street. Both were Protestant, and their union marked a gentle new beginning in their golden years.

Later records show Lois settling at James’s address, where she remained well into the 1990s. By 1979, she had made a Social Security claim under her new name—Lois C. Kiraly.
Final Years
Lois passed away in the early hours of February 15, 2007, at Clearwater Commons in Indianapolis, having lived a remarkable 92 years.

Her son, Mike Boone, served as the informant on her death certificate, which noted dementia and coronary artery disease as contributing causes. She was laid to rest at Crown Hill Cemetery beside her second husband, James Kiraly.

Though much of Lois’s life was shaped by the quiet rhythms of family, faith, and homemaking, it’s clear she lived through extraordinary times—from the tail end of WWI through the dawn of the 21st century. Her life bridged eras and witnessed profound change, yet her role as daughter, wife, mother, and sister remained constant.

Want to share a memory of Lois?
Visit her Introduction Page to see more photos, read her full story, and help us preserve her legacy by adding your own memories or anecdotes. Every detail—no matter how small—helps bring her world to life.
Until next time,
~ Kris

Revisited by Bones
Lois Catherine Buchanan’s story is one of those deceptively calm genealogical portraits—you glance at it, think, “Ah, a simple life, nothing dramatic here,” and then the details start whispering in the background.
First, being the daughter of a Methodist minister in the early 20th century was its own kind of training. It wasn’t just Sunday sermons—it was hosting church socials, managing visitors who treated the parsonage like an open house, and learning the subtle art of being perfectly polite while a room full of elders debated theology over pie. Lois grew up in that space, which explains her lifelong sense of decorum and duty.
The Boone marriage is notable for its longevity before parting ways—forty-plus years in Indianapolis. Robert’s career with the Royal Typewriter Company is a charming snapshot of a world before keyboards and touchscreens, and I imagine Lois surrounded by clacking typebars and the faint tang of machine oil.
Then there’s her second marriage at 63. In genealogy, remarriage late in life is often a quiet testament to companionship over romance. James Kiraly was retired, she was still working as a secretary, and they made a home together in the same city she’d lived in for decades. No long-distance drama, no whirlwind relocations—just two people finding steadiness in each other’s company.
Her final years at Clearwater Commons tell us something, too: she stayed close to family, and her son Mike was still present in her life when it mattered most. That’s no small thing.
Lois may not have had the flashiest story in the family tree, but she’s the kind of ancestor who held the center steady—through wars, social change, and the slow turning of the decades. And sometimes, the quiet anchors are the ones that keep the whole line from drifting.
Lois Catherine Buchanan
(1914 - 2007)