18 The March Family and the Missouri School for the Deaf

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks

Week 18 – April 29, 2025

Prompt: Institutions

Ancestor(s): Milton March and descendants

MSD Students outside one of the buildings.

For several generations, the Missouri School for the Deaf (MSD) in Fulton was more than an institution for the March family—it was a community, a second home, and a vital connection point. At least a dozen family members were deaf, and most attended or were closely connected to the school. This story weaves through state censuses, school rosters, and family trees—and is one of resilience, community, and a proud legacy of deaf culture.

Milton March is my husband Bud’s 2nd great-uncle, the brother of his 2nd great-grandmother, Eleanor March. Interestingly, Eleanor married Milton Harvey March—and I now know this was not just a cousin marriage, but a double cousin marriage. More on that below.

This Story Begins with Milton March and Sarah Brandenburg

This branch of the family begins with Milton March and Sarah Elizabeth Brandenburg, a couple who were also first cousins. According to a Special Census on Deaf Family Marriages and Hearing Relatives (1888–1895), their daughter Luetta March reported that Sarah’s father and Milton’s mother were siblings.

Of Milton and Sarah’s seven children, five were deaf. Here is a breakdown of each child and their descendants who were part of the deaf community and connected to MSD.

1. David Milton March (deaf)

Married Mary Catherine Satterfield (deaf)

David was a student at MSD in the 1880 census (age 16)

Their three sons, all deaf, attended MSD:

– Ernest March, enrolled Sept 10, 1906 (age 9)

– Eli March, enrolled Sept 9, 1909 (age 9)

– George March, enrolled Sept 9, 1914 (age 8)

2. Mary Ann “Annie” March (deaf)

Married Charles Stover (deaf)

Both were students at MSD:

– Mary enrolled Oct 27, 1877

– Charles enrolled Sept 23, 1879 (age 12)

None of their children were deaf

3. John W. March (hearing)

Married Ella James (hearing)

Their daughter Elsie March was deaf (marked in the 1910 census)

No MSD enrollment record found

She attended Stephens College at the time of her marriage

4. James Absolem March (deaf)

No MSD enrollment record found

None of his children were deaf

5. Luetta March (deaf)

Married Charles Peacher (deaf)

Both appear in the 1880 census as pupils at the Missouri Institution for Education of the Deaf

– Luetta enrolled Sept 15, 1884 (age 9)

– No enrollment record found for Charles

In 1916, Luetta served as Supervisor at MSD

No indication that their daughters were deaf

6. William March (deaf)

Listed as “idiotic” in the 1880 census—a term sometimes used for deaf individuals

Never married

7. Jessie March

Said to have been born in 1881

No census or school records found

A Family Institution

The Missouri School for the Deaf (MSD) was founded in 1851 and became one of the earliest residential schools for the deaf in the United States. Though originally called the “Deaf and Dumb Asylum,” it evolved into a nationally respected institution.

Students like the March children learned academic subjects, trades, and life skills. Many lived on campus, wore uniforms, and participated in military-style drills, gardening, and dairy farming. MSD fostered identity and community—and for many, it provided the first true sense of belonging.

The March family’s decades-long relationship with MSD illustrates just how formative the school was. From young students like Ernest, Eli, and George, to staff like Luetta, MSD shaped their lives and created a legacy of pride and purpose.

A Tangled Tree: The Double Cousin Connection

As I followed the branches of the March family back through time, I uncovered another twist—one that makes the genetic legacy even more compelling.

Milton Harvey March and Eleanor March, my husband’s 2nd great-grandparents, weren’t just husband and wife—they were first cousins twice over. Their fathers, Absalom March and John March, were brothers. Their mothers, Elizabeth and Martha Brandenburg, were sisters.

That means Milton and Eleanor shared all four grandparents. In genealogy terms, they were double first cousins—a relationship as genetically close as half-siblings. No wonder the family tree started showing patterns of shared traits. Three of their 2nd great grandchildren are partially deaf. 

It’s not always easy to spot these connections in a tree until you step back and map them out. But the legacy left by these interconnected families is unmistakable.

From the chalkboards of MSD to census records, draft cards, and marriage licenses, the March family’s story spans generations of silence—and generations of strength.

17 The DNA That Built A Friendship

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks

Week 17 – April 22, 2025

Prompt: DNA

Ancestor: Johnny Marling – Not My Ancestor, But a Cousin Friend

The prompt for this week is DNA. In previous blog posts, I’ve written about using DNA to break down brick walls—all on my maternal side:

• Blog Post 2 – I found out that my great-grandmother Lucindy’s parents were Daniel Crull and Elizabeth Lent.

• Blog Post 5 – I discovered that my grandmother Elizabeth’s biological father was George Neal.

• Blog Post 9 – I learned that my great-grandmother Louisa Jane Wright wasn’t a Wright but a Foley.

This post, however, is about an unexpected use of DNA—when I was able to introduce a DNA match to his biological father, and in doing so, I gained not just a new cousin, but a good friend.

In June 2024, I signed up for Ancestry’s Pro Tools, which provides more detailed insights on shared DNA matches.

Shortly after, on June 4, 2024, I contacted a match with the surname KIVER, who was a fairly close match to my mother—and more importantly, he was a match to my MARLING Mystery Matches. These matches all descended from William Henry Marling, whose father, John Anderson Marling, was a Union soldier during the Civil War.

John’s pension file stated that he was sterile from having the mumps. In later divorce proceedings, he claimed that Ward Henry Marling could not be his biological child due to this condition. That raised suspicions that my Marling Mystery Matches might not actually be Marlings at all.

At the time, I had not yet identified Lucindy’s parents, and I believed she and these matches might share a common father.

A Trail of Clues

KIVER replied to my message, explaining that he had been adopted by the Kivers, and that his biological mother was a Keen—but he didn’t know who his father was.

Pro Tools showed that his closest match was to another of my mystery matches, C MOSES, and that they were likely first cousins.

I had actually messaged C MOSES back in September 2019 asking for help in identifying how he matched my MARLING Mystery Matches—but he didn’t respond.

With Pro Tools, I now saw that C MOSES was a first cousin to one of the Marling matches. On June 20, 2024, I reached out again—this time without mentioning the Marling name.

A Connection Opens

On June 22, 2024, C MOSES responded.

He told me his mom said his biological grandfather was Johnny Marling, and he gave me her phone number so I could learn more. She was helpful and gave me a number for Johnny Marling, saying I should call him—he’s really into family history. She also confirmed that her husband, J Moses, is the son of Johnny Marling.

Unraveling the Story

By June 27, 2024, I was ready. I contacted KIVER and told him I had figured it out.

Johnny Marling is his father.

J MOSES is his half-brother.

C MOSES—his supposed first cousin—is actually his nephew.

I called Johnny Marling later that day. At first, I simply mentioned I had been in touch with his grandson, C MOSES.

That opened the door.

Johnny Marling told me the whole story about getting two women pregnant at the same time and having to decide which one to marry. He did not marry J MOSES’ mother. She later married a man named Moses, and they raised J as a Moses.

Johnny confided that he wouldn’t be surprised if he had other children.

I told him, “I think I found another son—KIVER.”

To his credit, he was open to it. He welcomed a call from KIVER, and I made that happen.

Johnny Marling agreed to take an Ancestry DNA test, which confirmed that he is KIVER’s biological father. 

Johnny has also taken a Y-DNA¹ test, hoping to learn more about his paternal line. So far, the results haven’t provided a conclusive link to either the Marling or Crull surname—but it’s still early, and we’re watching for new matches.

More Than a Genetic Link

Although I believe our shared ancestor is my 3rd great-grandfather Daniel Crull, which would make Johnny Marling my half second cousin once removed, what matters more is the connection we’ve made.

We’re not just distant cousins.

We’re friends.

And we talk on the phone often.

¹ Y-DNA testing looks at the direct paternal line and is passed from father to son. Unlike the autosomal DNA test used by Ancestry, which looks at all branches of your family tree, Y-DNA tests are helpful for tracing surname lines and deep paternal ancestry - but they’re only available to biological males. 

16 Before Outlander: My Ancestor at Battle of Killiecrankie

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks 

Week 16  April 14, 2025 

 Prompt: The Oldest Story

Maternal 9th Great-Grandfather: James Alexander MacDougall

Conquer or Die
Clan MacDougall is a Highland Scottish Clan,
historically based in and around Argyll.

When I began exploring my Scottish roots, I didn’t expect to find myself drawn into a centuries-old battlefield in the Highlands—or to feel such a surprising connection to a fictional television show. 

According to family lore, my 9th great-grandfather, James Alexander MacDougall, died in July 27, 1689, at the Battle of Killiecrankie, one of the first major conflicts of the Jacobite Risings. 

There’s no documentation to confirm the story. No military record, no gravestone, no clear lineage of service. And yet, this is one of the oldest stories in my tree—a whispered connection to a time when loyalties were tangled, and families like mine stood at the crossroads of Scottish and British history.

The Family Legend

What I have is fragmentary. James was supposedly born in 1623 in Inverness-shire and married Blanche Casey in Argyll. They had a daughter, Mary Steel MacDougall, born in 1664 in Argyll, who later married into the McCorkle line under the name McCorquodale. That part of the tree is more grounded, with names that appear in census and church records years later.

But James? His name and the story of his death at Killiecrankie have drifted down through time, likely copied from other trees, repeated often enough that I paused to wonder: Could it be true?

Killiecrankie and the Jacobite Cause

The Battle of Killiecrankie took place during the first Jacobite Rising—a conflict fueled by the Glorious Revolution of 1688, when King James VII of Scotland (and II of England) was deposed in favor of William of Orange. The Jacobites wanted the Catholic Stuart king restored to the throne. The government, supported by the Protestant majority, stood in opposition.

On July 27, 1689, at a narrow Highland pass, the Jacobites won a surprise victory—but at great cost. Their commander, John Graham of Claverhouse, Viscount Dundee, was fatally wounded, and the rising soon collapsed without his leadership.

The battle pitted Highlanders against Lowlanders, Catholics against Protestants, and sometimes Scots against Scots. The Jacobites are often romanticized, especially in modern portrayals like Outlander, but the truth was messy. Some Highland clans supported the Stuarts; others backed the government—or tried to stay out of it entirely.

Where Did the MacDougalls Stand?

The MacDougall clan, historically rivals of the powerful Campbells, had long roots in Argyll. During the Jacobite Risings, their loyalties weren’t clear-cut. Some sources suggest the MacDougalls remained loyal to the government, possibly due to political alliances with the Campbells, who were strong government supporters.

But clans were not monolithic. Individual MacDougalls could easily have chosen the Jacobite cause—out of personal conviction, religious loyalty, or regional alliances.

If James Alexander MacDougall fought at Killiecrankie, it’s possible he went against the prevailing loyalty of his clan. It may even explain why his story survives only in whispers.

Outlander and the Power of Story

Outlander television series on STARS based on a series of books by Diana Gabaldon.

Watching Outlander—particularly the early episodes about the 1745 rising—has given me a new lens through which to see this piece of family lore. Although Outlander focuses on Bonnie Prince Charlie and events more than fifty years after Killiecrankie, the themes are the same: faith, loyalty, rebellion, and the cost of war.

Since I’m a huge fan of Outlander—watching it again now for at least the third time—it helps breathe life into the story of my Scottish ancestor’s involvement in this period of history. Seeing the landscapes, the clans, and the complex loyalties portrayed on screen brings a vivid texture to the dry facts and missing records. It’s not a substitute for evidence, but it’s a reminder of the humanity behind the history.

Dougal McKenzie, an Outlander character

In the show, Dougal MacKenzie raises money and men for the Jacobite cause. While fictional, he represents a very real kind of man—one who believed in the Stuart right to the throne and was willing to risk everything for it.

Perhaps my ancestor was one of those men.

Searching for the Truth

There are no known records of James Alexander MacDougall’s service, no land grants, no letters home. I’ve learned not to take other people’s trees at face value, but I’ve also learned to listen when a story keeps resurfacing.

The Battle of Killiecrankie was a real, historic event. My ancestor may have stood there. He may have fought. He may have died. Or he may have lived long afterward and simply vanished from view in the blur of history.

I may never know for certain. But even so, I’ve decided to hold space for the possibility. In genealogy, truth and legend often travel side by side.

Closing Reflection: A Story Worth Remembering

This might not be the oldest verifiable story in my family tree, but it’s certainly one of the oldest told. And like so many old stories, it’s full of silences, suppositions, and shadows.

Whether James Alexander MacDougall was a Jacobite rebel or a government loyalist, whether he died in battle or faded into obscurity, his name anchors me to a time and place where history was being shaped—not just by kings and generals, but by ordinary men swept up in extraordinary moments.

In that way, his story—true or not—is one worth remembering.

15 Two Deserters and One Big Mistake—Mine

Maternal 2nd Great Grandfather Daniel S. McCorkle

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks

Week 15 April 7, 2025


Prompt: Big Mistake

The book that broke a brick wall,

When I first started gathering details about my second great-grandfather Daniel S. McCorkle, I expected the “big mistake” would be his own—deserting the Confederate army not once, but twice, and later being denied a pension for lack of proof of service. But as I dove back into his story for this week’s prompt, I made a surprising discovery. The bigger mistake wasn’t his. It was mine.

(All quotations in italics are from The History of the Sixteenth Tennessee Volunteer Infantry, Volume I by Jamie Gillium.)

Early Life and Enlistment

Daniel S. McCorkle is my maternal second great-grandfather, father of Mattie McCorkle and grandfather to Leonard Nolen. In 1850 and 1860, Daniel lived with his mother and siblings in McMinnville, Warren County, Tennessee. His occupation in 1860 was listed as "Student," and it’s likely he attended Irving College, located eight miles south of McMinnville.

“Irving College students departing to join the Confederate army, 1861.”

In April 1861, Irving College closed due to the Civil War. The students, from across the South, chose to join the Confederate army. The school library was divided among the students and they left the school for their homes.

On May 18, 1861, at Lynchburg, Tennessee, the 16th Tennessee Volunteer Infantry Regiment was formed. Roster H listed students and faculty members of Irving College. Daniel McCorkle was among them.

The first muster roll for Daniel shows that he enlisted in Lynchburg, Virginia, on July 23, 1861, as a Private in Company G, 16th Tennessee Volunteer Infantry.

Piecing Together the Muster Rolls

The next several muster rolls are inconsistent. One reports him present, another sick in the hospital, and another declares he deserted. The confusion builds:

Present through April 30, 1862

March 1 to July 1, 1862: in the hospital sick

It is likely he was hospitalized in Tupelo, Mississippi. "After arriving at Tupelo, a number of men were ill and sent to the hospital.”

On June 27, Company H built a large shelter of logs and branches. 

"Sam McCorkle and Lt. Fate Hayes played the fiddle and accordion under it trying to pep up the boys."

Conditions were difficult. "On the 29th, an old man came to camp from McMinnville and stated that the Yankees had passed through... plundering and pillaging as they went."

The next muster rolls get more damning:

March & April 1862: Deserted September 5, 1862

May 1 to September 1, 1862: Deserted

And again later:

September 1, 1862 to January 1, 1863: Deserted January 10, 1863

January & February 1863: Deserted January 10, 1863

Army morale was shaky. "The stresses of separation from family and army life began to take its toll... A brief stay near their homes in mid-1863 helped to reinvigorate their spirits."

Was it a mistake for Daniel to leave the ranks? Or simply the act of a young man overwhelmed by illness and the hardship of war?

Brothers and Fathers

Daniel’s brother Samuel appears in the regimental history as well. "On August 28th, Samuel McCorkle of Company H was found to be absent from the ranks. Colonel Savage reportedly said, '…he will shoot him if he gets him.’"

Sam Jr. and Sr. were fiddlers.

And it turns out their father served too.

“Samuel was brother to Daniel and son to Samuel A. McCorkle who had been discharged as over age on July 16, 1862.” 

"Private Samuel A. McCorkle... was 49 years old in 1862 and was sick in the hospital on April 30, 1862. He was discharged... on July 16, 1862 at Tupelo, Mississippi.”

This is the same man I had recorded in my tree as a third great-uncle. For years, I believed Daniel and Samuel’s mother was a widow because she appeared alone in the 1850 census. I didn’t realize that their father, Samuel A. McCorkle, had simply been listed separately, married to Lydia Vickers.

Post-War Life and Rejected Pension

By 1870, Daniel was in Wilson County, Tennessee, working as a farm laborer with his future wife's family. He married Hester Ann Estell Williams on September 14, 1870, in Lebanon, Wilson County, Tennessee. They had four children and eventually relocated to Hampton, Lee County, Arkansas.

Pension Rejected - A Big Mistake

In 1896, Daniel applied for a Confederate pension for his service in the 16th Tennessee. Proof of Service was provided by Geo. Marchbanks, Adj. 16th Tenn. CSA. It simply stated that the soldier served from 1861 enlistment to spring of 1861 and that Meadows Co. had several McCorkles. The evidence of physician states Daniel was shot in the mouth, the ball lodging at an unknown locality but affecting his vision to a serious degree. Loss of vision to the extent that he is unable to do any work requiring close scrutiny. The pension board consisting of a county judge, Sheriff, and Clerk, found Daniel a wounded Confederate soldier in indigent circumstances and partially incapacitated for manual labor, that his claim was just and that he should be allowed $75 pension. However, his application was rejected—no proof of service.

Ironically, the muster rolls are inconclusive. He may have completed his initial twelve-month term, or he may have been swept into the chaos of war and never formally discharged.

A Discovery Hidden in Plain Sight

Whether Daniel McCorkle truly deserted his regiment or simply faded from the records during a time of illness and uncertainty, we may never know for sure. But his story reveals how fragile and contradictory wartime records can be—and how easily stories get lost or misunderstood. His rejected pension application and scattered service notes were frustrating at first, but they kept drawing me back for another look.

Typing a transcript makes you really "see" facts. 

And in doing so, I found the real breakthrough. Tucked in a regimental history I’ve read before—maybe too quickly—was the footnote that named Daniel and his brother Samuel as sons of Samuel A. McCorkle. The very man I had in my tree, mislabeled and misfiled, waiting patiently for me to notice. It turns out the real “big mistake” wasn’t his desertion or the pension rejection—it was my oversight. But like so many mistakes in genealogy, this one led me somewhere new. I broke a brick wall by transcribing a footnote in the regimental history.