August 31, 2025

Introducing Charles Bertram Miller

Remembering Charles Bertram “Bert” Miller (1910–1995)

Charles Bertram “Bert” Miller was born on April 5, 1910, in Louisville, Kentucky, the youngest son of Claude H. Miller and Mattie Belle App.

Over the course of his life, Bert wore many hats: electrician, auto repairman, government instructor at Fort Knox, square dance caller, husband, father, grandfather, and great-grandfather. He was known for steady work, lively fellowship, and even the occasional spotlight in the local paper for his impressive bowling scores.

In later years, he and his wife Mildred moved to Tucson, Arizona, where he passed away in 1995 at the age of 84. He rests with Mildred at Evergreen Memorial Park.

✨ Do you have memories of Bert?
We’d love to hear them. Please share your stories, photographs, or reflections in the comments below so that his legacy can live on for generations to come.

For a more detailed look at Bert’s life—including census records, photographs, and family milestones—please visit his Family Page.

August 5, 2025

Introducing Mary Belle Blake

🌸 Introduction to Mary Belle Blake

Factory Matriarch | Faithful Heart | The Quiet Backbone of a Family

She was born on a winter afternoon in 1908, in a modest home on East Georgia Street, and by all accounts, she lived a life that didn’t ask for attention—but deserved it. Mary Belle Blake, later known as Mary McNally, didn’t blaze across the sky. She glowed steadily, like the soft porch light left on for her boys, night after night.

She raised three sons in the steel-clad shadows of Kokomo’s factories, kept a marriage strong through Depression and war, and stepped into the workforce when America called on its women to rise. She inspected radios and raised boys, stitched faith into each Sunday, and held fast when the world tilted. Her fingers bore the calluses of labor and love in equal measure.

🔍 Want to explore Mary Belle’s full timeline?
From her birth on Georgia Street to her final days in Kokomo, her family page includes census records, marriage details, obituary excerpts, and more. You can find it all there—neatly documented and gently told.

👉 Visit Mary Belle Blake’s Family Page to view the full story.

We don’t know all the details—yet. There’s no photograph of her laughing in the kitchen, no diary left behind. But maybe you remember her. Or maybe someone you loved did.

This page is for that:
To remember her voice, her habits, her little phrases.
To uncover her favorite recipes, her stern warnings, or her secret indulgences.
To fill in the spaces history left blank.

If you have a memory of Mary Belle, or even just a whisper of one, I invite you to leave it in the comments below. Your voice may be the missing note in her song.

She earned remembrance. Let’s give it to her.

With gratitude,
~Kris

July 29, 2025

Introducing Lillian Francis Beyl

🕊️ Meet: Lillian Francis Beyl Mobley (1890–1953)

Matriarch. Homemaker. Quiet Architect of Legacy.

Lillian Francis Beyl was born in the chill of January 1890 in Columbus, Indiana—so quietly, in fact, that the earliest record of her birth didn’t even list her name. Yet the life she built would ring louder than any document.

Known lovingly as Lillie, she was the daughter of Jacob Beyl, a French-born carpenter with calloused hands, and Margaret Kern, a strong-willed daughter of German immigrants. From the start, Lillie lived in a house that spoke the language of hard work, faith, and resilience.

She married James Everett Mobley at nineteen and bore at least ten children—some she raised to adulthood, some she mourned too soon. Through every move, every era, every ache and joy, Lillie was the constant: the woman behind the meals, the mending, the music of daily life. She lived through wars and depressions, through the rise of modern Indianapolis and the fading of horse-drawn wagons, all while nurturing a home filled with life and noise and need.

Lillie died in 1953, leaving behind a family tree that still blooms with her strength. She’s buried beside Everett in New Crown Cemetery—a woman not remembered for headlines, but for holding a family together in a world that rarely paused to thank women like her.

Want to know more?
Her full story—including census clues, family mysteries, and quiet triumphs—awaits on her family page.

This page is dedicated to her memory—and to the memories still waiting to be shared.

Have a photo? A story? A pie crust recipe with her handwriting in the margins? Share it below. Because Lillie Beyl Mobley didn’t live to be famous. She lived to be family—and that’s the kind of story that deserves to be told.

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