enduring legacy – Someone Peed In My Gene Pool!

August 15, 2025

Introducing Lois Catherine Buchanan

Welcome to the Memory Page for Lois Catherine Buchanan

August 14, 1914 – February 15, 2007

Lois’s story is one of quiet strength, deep roots, and the kind of steadiness that anchored her family through nearly a century of change. Born in Ridgeway, Illinois, the daughter of Reverend Maurice Buchanan and Pearl Wilton, Lois grew up in the warm but watchful world of a Methodist parsonage. From her early years in small Indiana towns to her long life in Indianapolis, she remained devoted to family, faith, and the art of creating a welcoming home.

Over her 92 years, Lois witnessed two World Wars, the rise of the automobile and the computer, and the transformation of her city—but her heart stayed firmly grounded in the things that mattered most: the people she loved and the communities she served.

A Few Things to Remember About Lois

The Preacher’s Daughter: She spent her childhood in parsonages, learning grace and hospitality from an early age.
A Long First Marriage: Married to Robert Daniel Boone for more than four decades, raising two children, Michael and Marilyn.
A Second Chapter: At 63, she married James Steven Kiraly, finding companionship and stability in her later years.
An Indianapolis Fixture: From the 1930s onward, she made the city her home—through bustling downtown years, suburban life, and a quiet retirement.

Share Your Memories

Do you remember visiting Lois’s home on East 62nd Street?
Did you know her from church, the neighborhood, or family gatherings?
Do you have a treasured recipe, holiday tradition, or photograph tied to her?

Your stories help keep her spirit alive for future generations. Please share them below so they can become part of her legacy.

📜 Back to the Buchanan Family Page to explore more relatives and history.

Curious about Lois’s place in the family tree?
Return to her Family Page to see how her story connects with generations past and present.

August 3, 2025

Introducing Charles Arthur Blake

Introduction: Charles Arthur Blake

“Custodian of the Quiet Years”
Son-in-Law of Jacob William Beyl Sr. | Husband, Father, Resilient Soul | 1879–1957

Not every name in the family record arrives through blood. Some are stitched in through time, tenderness, and the kind of steadfast love that doesn’t demand attention. Charles Arthur Blake was one of those souls—woven into the fabric of the Beyl legacy not by birth, but by bond.

Born in West Newton, Indiana, in the final quarter of the 19th century, Charles entered a world still shaking off the dust of war and stepping boldly into modernity. He grew up in a working-class home in Indianapolis, one of eight children. His early life was defined by movement—wagon driver, truck man, grocer—and yet what defined him most was his capacity to stay.

He married Mary Elizabeth Beyl on his 22nd birthday, beginning a chapter filled with both profound sorrow and quiet joy. Together, they bore children, buried one too soon, and built a life on hard work and hope. When Mary died young, Charles honored her memory with a life that kept going—steady, simple, and true. He remarried, raised his daughter, and worked into his seventies, even as the world around him reshaped itself again and again.

There were no parades for Charles Blake, no monuments carved in his honor. But for every record left behind—for every census, draft card, city listing, and death certificate—there is the mark of a man who carried the weight of love, labor, and loss with quiet grace.

👉 Read his full story on the Family Page

💬 Did you know Charles? Did your family cross paths with his milk route, his grocery counter, or his quiet acts of service?
If you have stories, photographs, or even a whispered memory passed down through generations, I invite you to share it in the comments below. These are the threads that keep history breathing.

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.