Alice Jones was the eldest daughter (possibly the eldest child) of David Jones and Susana Brookhouser, born in Crawford County, Pennsylvania, on 9 October 1857.
The records that tell us about Alice’s life seem to support the facts as I’m about to lay them out for you, but they also raise the sorts of questions that never seem to find satisfying answers. For example, we can be reasonably certain that her full name was “Alice Frances,” and most records record her name with the initial, as in “Alice F.” But her first appearance in the Census and one World War I service record for her son give her name as “Frances.” Does that suggest she went by her middle name?
I don’t know.
Inferences and Suppositions
One of the first suppositions I had to make about Alice’s family was whether she was the first-born child of David and Susana, or whether they had a son, Albert, in 1851. Albert and Frances appear in the household in 1860. I only have one source that says they were married in 1854 (the 1900 Census), so it’s possible they were married earlier, but Susana was 18 in 1854, and I find it doubtful that they married when she was 14. So, I suppose Albert must be a relative from David’s side of the family.
Another mystery child appears in the 1870 Census. By 1870, the Jones family had moved to Missouri Valley in Harrison County, Iowa. Their household included Alice, Martha, William, and a 9-year-old female child named “Georgie A.” about whom I have been able to find nothing further.
At least we can infer from the children’s birthplaces recorded in that Census that the family moved from Mercer County, Pennsylvania, to Harrison County, Iowa, between 1864 (when Martha was born) and 1870 (when William was born). At least we can see that the Jones family lived next to a Brookhouser family – which we will need to investigate further when we look at Susana’s immediate family.
Making a Life In Iowa
Alice was 12 years old in 1870, and her family seems to have been well-established in Missouri Valley by 1876, when she turned 18 and (I assume) finished school. We don’t have school yearbooks from that far back, and if the newspapers printed graduation announcements, I haven’t found a digitized copy. So, we will continue to infer.
We don’t know how or when she met John R. McCullough, a farmhand from Indiana, but we do know that they were married on 4 November 1877. He was 29, and she was just a few weeks shy of her 21st birthday. A veteran of the late War, John appears to have been ready to settle down and raise a family, and I think it’s safe to conclude that he made a strong impression on this new wife’s family, or she would not have become his new wife.
The following September, John and Alice had their first child, William Edgar. And David and Susana had another child, giving Alice a little brother, Bertie Mac Jones. I almost can’t imagine growing up with an uncle the same age as me, but William Edgar did.
Sadly, John and Alice would suffer the loss of two children: an unnamed infant son in 1879, and a little daughter they named Edna Iola, who was born and died in October 1880. But the following year, they had another son, Earl Randolph, who was born on 30 October 1881, just 8 months after his aunt, Bessie Elnora Jones.
They had another daughter in 1884, Elsie Ann, and that’s the youngster in the center of the photo above, flanked by her brothers and her parents. That portrait was probably taken around 1890. Alice had lost another baby in 1888, but then had their youngest son, David Earnest, in 1892.
Even given what we know about the spread of diseases, even in the later years of the 19th century, that feels like a lot of loss to bear.
Leaving Space
I have no doubt that there might be a lot to say about the lives they led and the experiences they had, but those things are not yet mine to say. We haven’t inherited any writings they left behind, and few records. I know there are snippets in the local newspapers about visiting relatives, but it’s hard to build a narrative out of those.
What we can do is sketch out a life, fill it in with what we know about farming at the turn of the century, and be grateful there were no other tragedies striking enough to reach down through the years.
And if we find more later, we can add it to our record.
Say hello, cousin!