All Boxed In: 

Baseball Bats and Brothels, and the Boxer Who Coulda Been       

   

(Author's note: In terms of family history, one of the kindest things we can do is to preserve someone else's memories. Be they true, false, or otherwise, it's good to understand them for the memories they are.) 

I.

Time is running short. And yes, I know that's always the case, but lately I've felt like I've needed to grab onto a few things; to grab some of the old family tales before they disappear. Soon, there will be no one left to save or ask, or to know if "any of that" really happened, or was ever really true or real at all. (And yes, I know I'm too wordy...whatever.)

My father has always been good at the telling of these sorts of tales, or at least embellished truths. Naturally, most of his tales revolve around the family, or of course, his somewhat favored subject - that of the car business. Some of his stories, especially those revolving around Dad's time as an auto dealer at Concord Dodge, are fun to relive and fun to explore.   

                    

   

As with any story, there's always an element of truth. And true too is that as far as Dad's stories go, you just might have to dig a little deeper. Keep in mind, this wasn't or isn't always Dad's fault. Sometimes it's just the way the story came down to him. 

This particular story involves a whore house in Nevada, some tenuous ties to some unknown branch of the Vegas Mafia, and, oddly enough, a boxing champ of sorts. 

First, let's start with the whore house. 

Verifying Dad's claim that he and a couple of his cohorts (cohorts that I often addressed as "Uncle"), along with an allegedly semi-pro boxer, purchased land in Laughlin, Nevada, to purchase a Mafia-approved whore house, sadly, I have absolutely no way of verifying. I know, I know! Go figure! Perhaps if I were better at tracing Nevada land records from the 1970s maybe I'd have better luck. But no...I will probably have to leave this part of the tale in the same category as "My stepmother was serenaded by Elvis," and "Dad had personal conversations with RKF on an airplane flight from someplace to somewhere..." Sorta typical stuff outta Dad's side of the story machine. Great fodder. No substance. 

You know, the unverifiable crap.

However, back to the whore house for one minute. I guess what destroyed the plans for this Mega Brothel of the Desert wasn't the Mafia, but the untimely demise/murder (?) of the boxer, who was the man with the Mafia connections. Sadly, when the boxer met his fate via a baseball bat to the head, all those plans of Mega Brothel went out the door. 

Dad, of course, recounts the story to me with much bravado, and indeed, even I recall the former boxer himself, a nice fellow everyone called "Trini" in his early forties, whose face you could tell had been pummeled a bit. (In those days, too, all of dad's cohorts had a nickname, names like Hatch, Stone, Gypsy, or Trini...) This was fifty years ago now, though as Dad told me the story (yet again), it was like it had happened only yesterday. 

As dad concluded the tale, he mused:

"Yes, we would have had that whore house if Trini's girlfriend hadn't bashed his head in with a baseball bat. You know, Trini was a professional boxer from back east. You should look him up..."

Okay...

The only thing I knew about "Trini" the boxer was his name. Or rather, I knew that he was AKA among the Whore House purchasing cohorts as "Vince Trinidad."

But sure. I'm always up for a good game of genealogical clue. So why not? 

Maybe we'd end up truly owning a whore house in Vegas after all, right?

II.

However, I really had no place to start.

I did recall Trini, and I did recall his early demise at the hands of an angry lady and a baseball bat. I did recall more as I began to look, but initially, the only thing I had to go on was "Vince Trinidad" and "boxer" with an early demise in the early 1970s, likely in California. But submitting myself to the Rules of the Algorithm and Google, I went searching on my own and on Dad's behalf; however, this was the only thing I got:

An indication that Trini was selling cars a few years before he worked for Dad, or was in the whore house procurement industry:

Above: Oakland Tribune, Oakland, California, Saturday, November 14, 1964, page 20

Now it isn't that I didn't look. I reasoned that there had to be an obituary for "Vince or Vincent Trinidad" in the early to mid-1970s somewhere, likely in the Bay Area, California papers. However, I had no luck. No search engine brought me anything other than more car ads for Trini.

It was then that I decided to mix up the algorithm. I needed to pair the algorithm with the other or different parts of the story I knew. I needed to go back to Dad's original story and also remember that even in any convoluted story, there is always an element of truth. What I knew (or what I thought I knew) or what I recalled out of the story - what really stood out - was "Trinidad" and "baseball bat."

And then I had it: 

Above: Contra Costa Times, Walnut Creek, California, Wed., May 8, 1974, page 7

      

While not perfect in relation to Dad's story or the retelling of the tale, I had enough facts to concur with Dad's original version of events. 

1.) Pleasant Hill, Walnut Creek, Contra Costa County

2.) May 1974 

3.) Angry ex

4.) Former boxer

Check, check, and check - but who the Hell was Fernando? Was "Vincent Trinidad" actually "Fernando Trindade?" 

Okay, I get it. It's not that far a stretch that Trini was really Fernando but much preferred to be called Vince. But I had to wonder, what else could I learn here about our fellow Whore House and Car Salesman "boxer" Provocateur?

Was this the right guy?

5.) "Age 46." Hmmmm....?

So I went back to the algorithm and tried some new combos with "Fernando" and "Trinidad" and "Contra Costa County," and tried to zero in on anything that might lead me back to a boxer or someone aged "46" within the time frame of the early seventies.

And this is what I got:             

                   Above: Concord Transcript, Concord, California, Wed., Oct. 13, 1971, page 3

While this wasn't any sort of definitive identification that these were "one and the same" man, based on the age of the man in the two articles (43 in 1971 and 46 in 1974), the Contra Costa County locations, and the almost complete similarity of names, it seemed pretty likely that this was the same man. However, was it Trini? And if so, why was he called Fernando and not Vince? 

I had another something to go by, too. In the back of my mind, way in the farthest corners of a half-century-old memory, I recall my father talking about that "Trini had taken a car off the lot and had been in an accident." (Note to self: Ask Dad.)

Yeah, I was pretty sure I had him.

Now for the particulars.

It seemed to me that I should still be able to locate a Contra Costa County death record for Trini, or at least one for Fernando Trinidad. I mean, he died in the dang newspapers. However, to this end, at first, it seemed like I could find nothing. Then, the great genealogical Gods let the forces of the algorithm swing open the cosmological door a little bit wider. It was then that I found this:

An earlier auto accident in an earlier newspaper notice:                                                

Above: The Independent, Richmond, California, Dec 22, 1969, page 2

Dang, Trini, remind me not to let you drive.

So what I had now was a sample of nearly all the same elements as the other three newspaper articles. However, there was one big difference. The man in the first article is called "Fernando Trindade" and not "Fernando Trinidad."

It was time to take another look.

III.

Remember that guy "Vince Trinidad" up above, selling new Fords in Oakland in 1964? And now a reference to a "general sales manager for an Oakland car agency" (not to mention his wife Paula) named "Trindade?"           

"Killer Paula"

Above: The beautiful and troublesome ex-Paula Trindade - You'd best hide your baseball bat and don't piss her off.

It seemed to me I was looking in the right church, but the wrong pew. The problem appeared to be a simple matter of spelling. This was proved out by another look at the California Death Index:

 

The date and place of death for Fernando Trindade match the newspaper article for Fernando Trinidad.

This is what I have so far:

Given my Dad's stories and recollections about Trini, and the story of the baseball bat, and the angry wife/girlfriend, and given the auto sales history in Contra Costa County, and given that the date and place of death align with the Dad's story, and unless there are two men, one called Vince Trinidad and one called Fernando Trindade who both sold cars in Contra Costa County in the late 60s and early 70s and who both got their skulls cracked open by said angry ex...

I can only conclude that Vince Trinidad, or Trini, or Fernando Neves Trindade, is in fact one and the same person.

But just who were you, Trini?

IV.

To do this, I wanted to go back to my father's original tale of Trini (or Vince, or Fernando, or whoever he was calling himself at any particular time). Dad had unequivocally stated that Trini was "a boxer," had boxed professionally, and indeed the death notice in the newspaper alludes to that "fact." 

Now that I was certain that Dad and all the newspaper articles were percolating around the same man, I went back to the last line of the "death notice" that mentions "Fernando's" boxing career. It stated that Fernando (aka Vince, aka Trini) had boxed professionally under the name of Vincent Martinez.

 

Naively, I assumed that I had it made at this point. I should easily be able to verify the existence of a professional boxer named "Vincent Martinez." And easily enough, I was. Heck, I was able to find photographs of professional boxer Vincent Martinez with people like Rocky Marciano, a boxing legend. All I could think of was, WOW! Dad had worked with those who'd rubbed elbows with boxing royalty.    

AND, we almost bought a whore house with him? Winner, winner, chicken dinner?                     

            Above: Pro Welterweight Boxer Vincent Martinez     

Above: Alameda Times Star, Alameda, California, Mon., January 19th, 1953, page 7

I admit, I was a bit KO'd by all of this. However, as I studied the life of Vince Martinez in the old papers, I noticed something kind of odd. His date of birth. Professional boxer Vincent Martinez's date of birth was recorded in published sources as May 5, 1929, at Mt. Kisco, New York.

And, if his biographies were also correct, he died in January 2003.

My trouble was that Trini, aka Fernando Neves Trinidad, aka Fernando Trindade, aka Vince Trinidad, was showing up with a California Death Index birthdate of June 9, 1928, in some other country.

And we all knew that Trini had died at the hands of the ex in 1974.

So what the heck is going on? Was any of Trini's story true?

V.

Unable to match Trini to any pro-boxer named "Vincent Martinez," I had to return to square one. Armed with a date of birth and a better clarification of Trini's actual name, I went back to the Great Algorithm and tried my luck again - this time zeroing in on that date of birth. It was then that things started to get a little less murky.         

It certainly appeared that I had found Trini. Or, at least I had found "Fernando N Trindade," whose date of birth matched the California Death Index Record, AND whose occupation was listed as a "boxer."

Still, it seemed like I needed at least one more thing before calling it. 

Okay, this was all well and good. I had "Trini the boxer" in one of his many forms. But beyond this immigration paper shown above, I had nothing else to show for it. And I certainly had nothing that made me understand why Trini's story was that he was at the very least known post-mortem as that of boxer Vincent Martinez.

The only thing I could think to do was to go back and look for any record of a boxing career for "Fernando Trindade." And after a few twists and turns, this is what I found:         

Still a bit of a mystery though - I really was hoping for a photograph of Trini in action. Nevertheless, the BoxRec website did give me a list of his opponents. And while I don't have a picture of Trini, I do have one of this guy, Al Barbosa, whom he lost to. (Sorry, Trini.) 

Above: Al Babosa, one of Trini's opponents.

You should know that Trini, AKA Fernando Trindade, also shows up here, and in other clippings: 

  

Above: Portland Press Herald, Portland, Maine, Monday, October 20, 1947, page 18

  

Above: The Buffalo News, Buffalo, New York, Friday, Oct 3, 1947, page 37

So yeah, Trini was a boxer. Maybe even at one time, a half ass good one. It seems that Trini, aka Fernando, had a lot of skeletons in his closet, though - and I have yet to equate how he boxed professionally under any other name than his own, let alone as "Vincent Martinez." I should mention here, though, that the BoxRec records names twenty-three men who have boxed under that name or some variation of it, but with only three that might have "fit the bill," however, none were born in Portugal like our Trini was.

So, backing up a bit here, remember when we talked about old stories that seem like they are full of bullshit because they are, BUT that they actually contain an element of truth in them? I think this is one of them.

I think Trini, aka Fernando, a boxer, maybe admired or encountered the pro-boxer Vincent Martinez (pictured above), who was roughly the same age as he was. They both fought in the same welterweight class at about the same time (late 40s, early 50s), but Trini's career didn't seem to take off. I've also discovered several marriage records for Trini, one back east in Massachusetts, and a couple in California. I think that when Trini "made the change," that is giving up on the East Coast Boxing circuit (and likely another ex-wife and child support back east) and moving to Nevada or NorCal, where he met and married "Killer Paula," - that he simply lied.

I think he liked the idea of being like Pro-Boxer "Vincent Martinez."

I think it was easier and more appealing to his ego to just tell people that was the name he's boxed under. Who wasn't going to believe him anyway? If you took one look at the guy, you knew he was a boxer and certainly at least a fighter. As they say, Trini had some guns on him.

And who was ever gonna really know? Not "Killer Paula" or the new wife, Virginia.

Hey, it's 1974. Google what? LOL.

My guess is that he made whatever those Mafia whore house connections were in Reno or Vegas. Trini would have come to Nevada with certain enforcer-like talents that would have made him a valuable asset to that rather spurious lifestyle. I think, though, that Trini was starting to "age out," and that with Killer Paula and three kids, Trini needed to pay the bills. I think the next best thing for Trini was to move north and find a job in, wherever else, the car business.

There, he could be whoever he wanted to be.

It was there that he could be the boxer, Vince Trinidad.

Honestly, things would have gone a lot easier here (at least for the most part) if I'd just found this death cert first. I was surprised when it turned up online. It's unusual for California to publish vitals - but then again, it is over fifty years old now. The death cert verifies that Fernando Trinidade worked at, you guessed it, Concord Dodge.

But wait - does this mean we didn't get to keep the Whore House? WTF! :)

My Dad's story holds true.

Rest in peace, Trini. You were gone too soon.

☮

                                                EPILOGUE

There wasn't much left to tell. I had found Trini, or Fernando, or Vince, or whatever he'd been calling himself. I hadn't found Trini to be the boxer Vince Martinez that his obituary/death notice stated. There wasn't much left to do except to call and tell Dad what I had found. Dad's reaction was an interesting one. He blamed "Killer Paula," of course, for Trini's death. He claimed she had beaten him to death and that the cause of death on the death certificate had been a Mafia cover-up. Dad claimed that Trini had been some sort of mob enforcer for them out of Vegas, and that Killer Paula had had connections with the sheriff's department to get her off the hook for Trini's murder. Dad claimed the funeral was paid for by the San Francisco Mafia - and that the funeral was a "Catholic and a Jewish one."

When I explained to Dad about the discrepancy between Trini and boxer Vince Martinez, he only expounded that Trini had fought the famous welterweight of the 1950s, "Art Aragon," in Los Angeles.

I told Dad I would take a look, and sure enough, there was a fight between Golden Boy Art Aragon and Vince Martinez in LA in the 1950s. If you're interested, you can still watch that famous fight here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8BHIJMUEhic

     

The trouble was that all things referred the fight and its participants back to the other Vince Martinez from Paterson, NJ, whom Trini appears to have claimed to be, and not to any aka "Vince Martinez" from Lisbon, Portugal.

Mostly though, Dad just waxed poetic about his life and the people he'd once known - and of course, the loss of the Whore House. (Duh.)

It's all good.

Enjoy your days.

~JR

   

          

 Seeking Madame Mary     

                        Above: Madame Mary Merino

(Author's note: Sometimes we hold the best family history stories in the palm of our hands.)

As always, unapologetically unedited.

Fifty years ago, I went to get my fortune told. I was sixteen years old, and yes, generally more clueless than I am today. Nevertheless, on the behest of my father, I went looking for what the future might hold. At the time, my father had a man in his employ whom everyone called (in a friendly manner) by the name of "Gypsy." Gypsy was married to a woman they called "Madame Mary," and Dad, being a man who believed in using all his resources, whatever their source, sent me out one very dark night to listen and or follow the prognostications of the said Madame Mary.

This was many years ago, and save for Dad, I had nearly forgotten all of this. 

Last week, though by chance, I made my way to that same town (Martinez, California) where Madame Mary once lived. Believe me, I had some major deja vu as I wound my way into the small coastal town on the straights leading away from San Francisco Bay. And though I did not learn a great deal from the dear Madame that night fifty years ago, I resolved in my own genealogical way to find out what I could about dear Mary, though it be now fifty years later. It seemed the only fair and reasonable thing to do for a lady who'd somehow (?) once guided my future.

   

The truth about Madame Mary would not be easily divined.

You see, I did not know if Mary was her real name, and had only the vaguest clues of what her husband "Gypsy's" name was. I knew that Gypsy was called "Ned" sometimes, and that his surname was "Merino." However, in my genealogical hubris, I figured they'd be easy to find, and, well, in some ways, they were.

But in other ways, they most definitely were not.

The first piece of evidence I found about them was here, in the advertisements for a psychic in the city of Martinez, California. It was a typical advertisement, but it gave me the confidence to think that maybe I was onto something.

Above: Contra Costa Times, Tuesday, August 11, 1970, page 15

Hey, I figured at this point I had to be cooking with gas. I figured a few more Google searches and I would be In like Flint. But honestly, what came up next only confused me further.

Below: The Independent, Richmond, California, Thursday, September 1, 1966, page 8

          

Below: Contra Costa Times, Friday, Sept. 2, 1966, page 1

Okay, so I believed I had surely found Madame Mary - I mean, this was certainly "A Madame Mary Merino" practicing palm reading and fortune telling in Martinez, California, and the time frame was correct. 

What bothered me here in my 'investigation' was that it referred to her husband as "George Merino" and as a "Private Detective." 

Logically, what that meant was that Madame Mary Merino's husband's real name was George Merino, so although I could understand why they called him "Gypsy" I was having trouble understanding why Dad and his cohorts at the car lot also called him "Ned?"

The article did refer to Mary's husband as "dapper." Interestingly enough, that is just what I recalled about "The Gypsy." He was well-dressed and cool as a cucumber.

However, my questions became: 

Were Gypsy, Ned, and George all names for the same man? 

Were there two different Madame Mary Merinos prognosticating the future in Martinez, California, between 1966-1971?

So armed with only the combination of "George," "Ned," and "Mary" and "Merino," I began to look in submitted family trees to see what, if anything, might turn up. To this end, I had some good luck when I spotted a "Ned Merino" who seemed to fit the bill. The name of the family tree was:

Below: Romany Gypsies from Coast to Coast

This appeared to be correct. But was it? I certainly had in this submitted record a "Ned Merino," which corresponded with the name of the man I had known, and whom Dad had always called "Gypsy," or "Ned" and I had the place of "Martinez, California," where I'd gone to meet with "Madame Mary" his wife and get my fortune told over fifty years ago. But just who was this "Yeusta Mary "Lola" Adams?" Was she indeed "Madame Mary?" But then, who the heck was "George Merino," a "private detective" in all of this?

The first place in needed to look was where all genealogists go to look. Heck, it's where a lot of fortune tellers like Madame Mary get their information from. 

The Cemetery.

And this is what I found:       

So I was in pretty good shape here, right? I mean, all these pieces seem to fit. Heck, Ned (and presumably Madame Mary) are even buried right here down the road from me in Sacramento. I could visit them on Dia de Los Muertos if I needed to. 

Still, who the feck was George? Still, who was this "Private Detective? 

And it all seemed a bit sad too, in that Madame Mary appears to have died years ago now, in 1982.

So I took a look back again through the old newspapers, and I saw this:

Above: The Record, Stockton, California, Monday, May 14, 1962, page 27.

Now it all made a little more sense - at least in terms of George Merino's occupation, if not his use of the name "George." This 1962 article belies the fact that "The Repo Man" was at least in practice also a "private detective" for the Bank of America, looking for cars to repossess. This occupation was in keeping with what I knew about "Ned" or "Gyspsy" who'd been a car salesman working for my father. A "private detective" was just fancy dressing for "The Repo Man."

Still, were "George and Ned, and Gypsy" all one and the same man? While they appeared to be, I wanted to be certain I had the right people. For this, I went modern-day. I began looking for obits for both Madame Mary and for either a "Ned" or a George Merino. What I found helped to clarify the situation:

     All the pieces seem to fit, California, and previous wife Mary. And yes, his face, though much older than what my sixteen-year-old self could remember, was the same man. I still haven't reconciled why he was called "George," but then I saw a clipping of his notice of  (2nd) marriage license and could see why "Ned" went by George or even by "Gyspy":

Below: The Daily American, Somerset, Pennsylvania, Wed, August 21, 1991, page 2

 

I mean, with birth names like "Yeusta Mary" and "Nido Nedino," I can see why you might like a couple of nicknames and prefer to go by a simple "George and Mary" or "Ned and Lola." 

It just pays Hell tracking them genealogically, ya know.

Below: Martinez News-Gazette, Martinez, California, Friday, Sept. 8, 1978, page 18, property tax records

                   

So I guess I had it figured out, all the "Mary, Yeusta, Lola, Gypsy, George, Ned, Nadino" business of who was who. I didn't bother going back into family trees much. The submitted trees were full of branches that led to Old Romany, and I was too easily lost. I was just happy to have found Madame Mary and Gypsy and to have all those fifty-year-old memories, well, for them to all make sense.

Indeed, it appeared that I had answered all my questions about Madame Mary:

 

Above: Contra Costa Times, Walnut Creek, California, Friday, March 26, 1976, page 42

However, there was one last thing that troubled me - and it was this:

 

Above: 3234 Alhambra Ave. Martinez, California, The House of Madame Mary

If Madame Mary died in 1982, how was it that she was still running ads in 1984? 

Had someone absconded with Madame Mary? Was she truly dead? 

Yeah, well, I had to wonder, right?

The answer came to me in true gypsy fashion:

                   

Above: Martinez News-Gazette, August 3, 1991, page 1

You see, once a gypsy, always a gypsy. The next generation.

So happy to have met you, Madame Mary.

⚜

 

Peter ¹ Peter ² Pumpkin Eaters and the Vampire Slayers...

Well, sort of...there are no pumpkins in the tale...

(Author's note: Sometimes these ancestral discoveries are just so incredible they defy imagination. It's all a part of the journey of how we got from there to here - and all a part of the journey as to how it was revealed. This is a crazy tale. Hang on to your teeth!)

As always, unapologetically, unedited. 

I didn't expect this.

I didn't expect to see the name Peter Lurvey, or the City of Archangel, Russia, or the word "Jewish," all rumored to be connected to my family. I mean, who's ever frickn' heard of The White Sea? Why were the great algorithms and Boston scholars alluding, if not saying, that I had ancestors from this place - The White Sea? Did white privilege originate here? LOL. 

                   

And I certainly didn't expect to see the word "Vampire" linked to my ancestor Peter Lurvey's descendants. But hey, there it was.

  Above: William Monroe Newton, History of Barnard, Vermont: With Family Genealogies, 1761-1927, vol. 2 (Montpelier, VT: Vermont Historical Society, 1928), 278                 

Above: Peter Lurvey, "The Peter 2 Lurvey Family of Essex County, Mass., Maine, and Vermont," New England Historical and Genealogical Register 155 (2001)
 

It's not that I hadn't seen Peter's name before. He's an immigrant ancestor on my mother's side—an eighth great-grandfather, a minor figure in our sprawling family tree. Frankly, I'd barely paid him any attention. I'd seen his "associations" with a few of the less notable and less notorious "witches" of the late seventeenth century, too. But honestly, I thought his story was kind of boring. Peter Lurvey seemed like your average ancestor with an average entourage. Snore, right?                         

 Above and below: My mother's pedigree with cited source material from Peter Lurvey down to my ancestor Peltiah Day - and on down as far as I can reach to the present day.        

    

                 

 

                      

       

                      

Above: I'm pretty sure this one's a vampire - just saying.
      

                  

          

       

               

            

         

Above: From Ancient Russian Jews of the Arctic Circle and their strong vampiric connections right on down to Mom. Further sources available on request. Bring your own garlic.

II.

Then, for some reason, I decided to look him up. 

(I know what you're thinking. "Is this person obsessed with connections to serial killers like Alex Murdaugh and Dr. H.H. Holmes?" Not really. I'm just a curious asshat.)

              

The reason for my renewed curiosity wasn't Peter Lurvey himself. It was the actor, Michael C. Hall. I've been watching the last twenty years (or so) of Dexter on some streaming service or another, and sadly, I have become somewhat hooked. I'd put off watching the program for years because it can be a little gruesome; however, I like to at least think I'm not all that squeamish. It was also nice to not have to find something new to watch every single night. Plus, there was an added bonus: I got to watch my cousin Dan's boy, Jadon Wells, who plays Dexter's son in the show. All in all, it seemed cool enough. And the program was largely filmed in Long Beach, CA, my hometown. Seemed like a winner to me.     

                    

Above: My young cousin Jadon Wells, alongside Michael C. Hall

But you know me. I have to dig. So, I went to FamilySearch.org to check out the ancestry of Michael C. Hall. I wanted to check out "Dexter's" lineage (or at least Mr. Hall's).

That's when I saw it again. 

The name Peter Lurvey. My ancestor, Old Pete.

Say what?

Now, before I could get all excited about sharing a common ancestor with (the actor who plays) "Dexter Morgan," I discovered the truth. It didn't pan out. I have no idea why my ancestor, Peter Lurvey, was placed in a family tree for actor Michael C. Hall. Hall's ancestry is 98% Southern, and Peter Lurvey was definitely from not-so-south Massachusetts. I could see the connections the submitter was trying to make, but they weren't plausible. Basically, they sucked. Another one for the "crap genealogy" pile.

I have absolutely no family tree connection to the actor Michael C. Hall.

However, not wanting to be "unthorough," I figured I might as well take another look at my ancestor Peter Lurvey. He might not be the umpteenth great-grandfather of an actor who plays a do-gooder-serial killer (???), but he was still mine. (The ancestor that is...)

So, "Grandpa Pete," what's up with your bad self these days?

As if laughing afar, Grandpa Pete seemed to reply to me by proxy in written form:

"Well, dude, did you know that I was frickn' Jewish? Did you even bother to look that I was from someplace called Archangel on the Arctic Circle in Russia? Or at least that is the story of my life as it got passed down."

I could only reply: "What the flock, Grandpa Pete? How did I not see this before? How did I not even see a rumor that we had Russian Jews from the Arctic Circle in the family tree?"

Grandda Pete just seemed to laugh as he replied, "Dude, that ain't the half of it."

Funny thing about stories, though—there's always an element of truth in them somewhere. AND, even if it's false, why has it been a rumor for centuries, and why the Hell did they pick Archangel, Russia, on the White Sea? What did they do in 1675? Google it? Right.

Beats me.

III.

So I decided to cast a wider net. 

If "Grandpa Pete" was rumored to have been a Russian Jew from the city of Archangel on the Arctic Circle, what else was he? What else could I learn about this previously neglected ancestor of mine?

It was then that I saw the next crack in the Arctic Ice.  

Yeah, that's when I saw this from the image above: Why is Grandpa Pete mentioned in this book, American Vampires?

So you mean to tell me that now I have a "Non-relation to an actor who plays a serial killer and who has a faux ancestor in his family tree that is my real ancestor who, unbeknownst to me before, was rumored to be a Russian Jew from the city of Archangel on the Arctic Circle and has major vampire connections?

Dude! Does it get any better than that?!?!?!

Is your head starting to hurt, too?

Okay, well, we'll get to all that - maybe. You see, I guess it turned out that it isn't Grandpa Pete who is mentioned in the book above, but his great-grandson, a guy by the same name, Peter Lurvey. It turns out that this next-generation Peter Lurvey is a hero from the Revolutionary War. I know, I know, that's hardly a vampiric event. (still, nonetheless fairly cool)  

However, I guess the connection (or at least the more curious thing) is more about where "Pete, Jr." lived - a place called Dogtown.

A place now abandoned.

      

  Above: Charles E. Mann, In the Heart of Cape Ann; or, The Story of Dogtown (Gloucester, MA: The Procter Bros. Co., 1896).           

By the look of the cover, Dogtown does not sound like a nice place filled with puppies and sunshine. Looks like a bit of a "grab your broomstick" kinda place.

Most of what I can glean out of these two books is that Pete Jr. had a daughter who married a guy named Standwood. Check this sh*t out:

             

...marries the daughter of Peter Lurvey...    

   And further still...tales of vampirism associated with, well, Mom. Edgads!

     

Above: Various pages from Bob Curran, American Vampires: Their True Bloody History from New York to California (Pompton Plains, NJ: New Page Books, 2013)

Okay, okay, I know what you're thinking. None of this links, my ancestor Peter Lurvey as an actual vampire. Or doesn't it? I mean, is your ancestor's name (and or his like-named descendant) in any book somewhere associated with the word "vampire" in any way?

Yeah, I didn't think so.

Are we not the people we associate with? (Yuckity-yuk.)

Ya know, vampires throughout time? Again beats me.            

So while this end of the story only connects "Pete, Jr's" daughter, who married Mr. Stanwood, to someplace called Dogtown and as the "crazy cobbler dentist" to "transvestite vampire types" like "Old Ruth" and crazy ass "Tammy Younger," it doesn't exactly not link my Lurvey family connections in not having to deal with vampires.

Hey, wake up! You got all that?

Well, my story isn't it? lol.

Wink!

😉