July 31, 2025

Introducing Mary Lou Beyl

Mary Lou Beyl: The Quiet Bloom

Born as the youngest in a bustling household, Mary Lou Beyl’s life quietly spanned the peaks and valleys of the 20th century, offering a steadying presence through times of war, change, and family milestones. From her early years in Indianapolis to the subtle way she shaped her family’s legacy, Mary Lou’s story is one of quiet resilience, unspoken love, and the simple joys of life.

Let’s take a moment to step into her world—where big events were woven into the fabric of everyday life, and where her strength was most felt not in loud gestures, but in the steady rhythm of her days.

Now, to make this page truly shine, I’d suggest we close it with a call to action. Something inviting folks to share their memories or connections to Mary Lou. How about this?

Want to know more?

Head over to Mary Lou’s full family page to explore the milestones, memories, and quiet moments that made her who she was. From her childhood home to her days as a postal clerk, there’s more to discover in the rich tapestry of her life. 🌸

Did you know Mary Lou?

If you have stories, memories, or insights about Mary Lou Beyl, we’d love for you to share them here in the comments. Let’s keep her story blooming, one tale at a time. 🌸

July 30, 2025

Introducing Charles Edward Beyl

Charles Edward Beyl: A Quiet Canvas

Some lives are painted in bold strokes, vivid with color and conversation. Others, like Charles’s, unfold in muted tones — private, purposeful, and nearly imperceptible until you lean in close.

Born in 1916 in Columbus, Indiana, Charles grew up in the churn of big family energy, the Great Depression, and shifting Indianapolis neighborhoods. He came of age during crisis and conflict, and served — however briefly — during World War II. His military chapter was short, but his willingness speaks louder than the paperwork.

He made his way as a self-employed painter. A laborer of walls and likely more, though the details have faded. No surviving love letters, no children in the records, no trail of postcards. Just a scattering of addresses, a draft card, a death certificate — and that headstone in Garland Brook Cemetery.

And still… something lingers.

In researching Charles, you feel the weight of what isn’t there — and yet what is left behind is enough to remember him with dignity. A man who served, worked, endured, and passed on, without fanfare.

This page honors him — not with embellishment, but with attention. He may not have filled family scrapbooks, but he earned his place in the story.

🕊️ Looking for more than a glimpse?
His full timeline is waiting on the Family Page here, pieced together with care — birth to burial, every scrap we could find.

But if you have a memory of Charles — a passing story, a neighbor’s tale, a photograph, a feeling — you’re invited to share it here.
This is where we remember. Together.

Always,

~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 27, 2025

Introducing Edna Mae Applegate

🕯️ Introduction Page: Edna Mae Applegate
Gathered in memory, shared in love.

She was born in a wintery corner of Crothersville, Indiana, and passed on in the springtime hush of Indianapolis—but the life of Edna Mae Applegate was lived in the warmth between those seasons. A daughter, a sister, a mother of six, and the steady center of a home that shifted through the decades, she is the kind of ancestor whose story is stitched into quiet gestures—the iron still warm, the front door left unlocked, the hum of someone cooking at dusk.

Married at sixteen, widowed too soon, and remembered by grandchildren who knew her simply as Mom, Mama, or Grandma, Edna’s legacy is one of everyday courage. She didn’t ask to be remarkable. But in the way she raised a family, weathered illness, and rooted herself in love through every move, she became just that.

This space is for you, fellow memory keeper.
If you knew Edna, have photos of her, or carry tales told by someone who did, please share them in the comments below. Even the smallest recollection—a favorite recipe, a holiday ritual, a sound to her laughter—adds texture to her tapestry.

Want to explore the full timeline of her life? You’ll find it here:
📜 Read Edna’s Family Page

Thank you for helping keep her story alive. After all, family history isn’t just about the past—it’s about finding our way back to one another, one memory at a time.

Warmly,
Kris

(and occasionally, Bones, when the dirt under the fingernails calls for it)

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