I never met my wife’s paternal grandfather, so I don’t have the same kinds of deep memories of him that made writing my own grandparents’ profiles both easy to write and hard to support with sources.
And while I have asked if anyone would like to share their memories with me on this public platform, I haven’t heard back from anyone. I’m not surprised that those who remember him best wouldn’t necessarily want to open up to me. After all, I’m just a guy who married their niece and shows up in the Midwest once every decade or so. (They are also, mostly, in Minnesota, so they are occupied with more serious concerns.)
For me, at least, this makes the challenge into a more familiar one. I’ve written hundreds of biographies for people I never knew. And I hope what I always hope:
I hope I do him justice.
Too Young to Fight in the Big One
All four of my kids’ great-grandfathers served in the U.S. military, but Bob McCullough was still in school when the Second World War broke out. He matriculated as a freshman at Thomas Jefferson High School in Council Bluffs, Iowa, in the fall of 1942, and graduated in the spring of 1946. He turned 18 in October of 1945, so he enlisted in the Army Air Corps, serving from January 1946 to 3 May 1947.
His brother John was three years older than Bob, and also graduated from Thomas Jefferson High School. When John married his high school sweetheart, Elaine Shuffler, on 23 April 1945, Bob was his best man and Elaine’s sister, June, who was also a TJHS student, was the maid of honor.
After he finished his year in the Air Corps, Bob married his high school sweetheart, the aforementioned June Shuffler, on 30 August 1948. This time, John was his best man, and Elaine was matron of honor. Bob and June established their family in Council Bluffs, where they had the first of their six children. Bob worked at the grain elevator.
Then the Korean War broke out, and Bob served another tour in the military from 10 March 1951 through 11 July 1952. As it happens, he served with another young man from Council Bluffs named Charles Martin – we’ll meet Charles’s sister, Merilyn, in a few weeks!
From Iowa to Minnesota
Bob and June moved to Minnesota around 1959. This is typically where standard research techniques start to fail us, and storytelling becomes more desirable, because the records I have can’t answer questions like, “Why did they move?” or, “What was different for them about life in Minnesota?”
The newspapers of the time carried pretty descriptions of both McCullough-Shuffler weddings, and listed a lot of names that are useful for the FAN approach. Some of the names are familiar; family names like Roundtree and Jensen who I know are related to the two families I’m studying. The friends and families in Council Bluffs seemed to be a close-knit group before 1959, but as life goes on, friends marry and move away, older family members may die, and sometimes the sorts of tragedies and traumas that people don’t like to discuss (divorce, or the loss of a child, perhaps) may push a circle of friends and family apart.
What I do know is that Bob and June settled into life in Shakopee, and I think Bob worked (at least for some time) as a baker. I know that their older children ended up back in Iowa, and the younger children tended to stay in Minnesota.
A Step Back to Reflect
The trick to writing a genealogy blog like this one lies in finding the “so what” twice a week. Most of the time, my expected audience (including my close relatives!) know as little about the people I’m studying as I do, so if I think something that I learn about a family from 100 years ago is interesting, chances are good that my audience will think so, too.
But writing about more recent generations has an added risk, not just that the people who don’t know me or my family won’t be interested in what I have to say, or bored by stories I think are charming. I also feel I need to tread carefully so that people who did know the family I write about won’t be hurt by something I say.
Every family has some drama; some more than others. Some families have dark secrets or traumas that they don’t want discussed. It’s possible that a researcher like me could stumble into something hurtful or harmful, or might share a “cute and innocent” story that triggers the darker memories, or whitewashes someone who did something wrong.
Sometimes, people just don’t want to dwell on the sadness of having lost someone. Bob McCullough died at age 56, an age I’m close to myself. He didn’t leave behind any “small” children, but they were robbed of many years they should have had with him.
And for many people, that is reason enough not to dwell in the past.
Say hello, cousin!