Tag Archive for: Underground Railroad

Standing on Hallowed GroundHallowed Ground…I could not shake that thought from my mind. Hallowed Ground. We were standing on hallowed ground. The thought brought back memories of my childhood growing up in the church…the old gospel hymn “Standing on Holy Ground,”…the many scriptures that spoke of removing your sandals to stand on holy ground…that day, we indeed were standing on hallowed ground…sacred…revered…not because it had been consecrated and declared as such, but because of what happened there…between strangers from different lives and different worlds. 

I found myself once again heading to the Southside of Chicago. This time to attend the dedication of an Illinois State Historical Marker at the site at once was my great-great grandparent’s farm. As I neared the city, I decided to visit the Jan and Aagje Ton Memorial Garden in South Holland. I pulled into the parking lot on the church’s grounds, realizing this would be my first time visiting the garden alone. Standing on Hallowed Ground

After walking through the garden and looking at each flower and plant, knowing they had been purposely planted by my new friend Nadine Harris-Clark, her sister, and other volunteers, I sat quietly on the bench. Hallowed ground. It was a beautiful early autumn day. Not a cloud in the sky. A gentle and somewhat chilly breeze rustled the leaves of the trees above me. As my eyes took in the memorial, a sound came to my ears from off in the distance…the sound of a train whistle…I strained to listen. I could almost hear the clap-clap-clap of the steel wheels passing along the tracks…hallowed ground. 

Soon the church bells tolling at noon broke me out of my trance. As the 12th toll echoed across the grounds, I headed to my car. It was time to drive the two miles to Chicago’s Finest Marina on the grounds of what was the Ton Farm over 100 years ago. 

The Dedication – Ton Farm

I found myself feeling somewhat anxious, somewhat curious, and somewhat nervous. When we had last visited the farm site, the gates had been locked, and we could not explore the area along the river. Today would be different. Today the gates would be open. 

After saying hello to Nadine, Tom, Larry, and Robin, I wandered off. I wanted to take it all in before the dedication ceremony. I wanted to walk the grounds alone. I wanted to stand along the river. I have always loved rivers. Something about watching the water change and dance in the light as it moves past me, never to be the same again. I wondered how many times Jan and Aagje stood here and watched the river. How often did my great-grandpa George fish in the river or play in its waters with his siblings? I could hear the peals of laughter and delight as George splashed one of his sisters in the cool waters. 

As I walked through the grass to where the house would have been located, the emotions came alive. It was here freedom seekers would come, seeking safety, protection, food, warmth, and transportation for the next leg of their long journey. It was here Jan and Aagje would risk fines, jail time, or worse. 

I could feel it. Hallowed Ground. Sacred ground. Revered ground. 

Fear

Fear was the first thing I felt. The freedom seekers had been traveling for days or weeks. Every. Single. Moment. In fear of discovery and being returned to the very life of slavery they were trying to escape. Frightened. Traveling at night, hiding in the shadows. While they had been told this was a safe haven to rest, was it? Who were these white people anyway? They could turn them in for a handsome reward, probably more than they made on this small farm in a month or many months. 

Fear. Jan and Aagje. Nervous to be discovered. Worried law enforcement from Chicago would discover their part in this flight for freedom. Anxious as they hid their precious cargo in their wagons and headed toward Indiana. Risk. Would they be deported back to Holland? Fear. Different, but just as palpable. 

Trust

Fear gave way to trust. As the Tons bustled into their now familiar routine of hiding the freedom seekers in their barn, preparing food, providing water, and unfolding blankets. Hushed tones of conversation between them. From whence had they come? Missouri? Mississippi? Kentucky? Questions about the road ahead. Stories of the dunes they would cross on their way around the great lake. Trust that these kind folks would give them passage. Trust in a safe place to lay their heads and rest, if only for a few hours. 

Hallowed ground.

Fear gave way to trust. This group of frightened travelers was seeking freedom. The quiet knock on the door was not the authorities or someone trying to rob or harm them. As their story unfolded, fear eroded, and trust was built. Always wary and cautious but confident in their actions. 

Hallowed ground. 

Hope

Hope. As they climbed into the wagon and hid beneath the hay. Hope – freedom lay ahead. Hope – a few more days of travel. A new life. They would make it safely. They could send for others. Hope. Building a life. Free. They would remember the past and in remembering, give thanks for the freedom that would now be theirs. A future free from the oppression of slavery. 

Jan and Aagje felt hope. Hope for the future and the lives they were building in this country. Scarcely a decade has passed since they left the only life they had ever known in 1849. Jan a young man of 23, Aagje a girl of only 14. Married in 1853 and building a life together on a small farm. Their growing family. Hope for the future. Hope for a life free to practice their religion and worship their god, free from persecution. 

Hallowed ground, not by consecration but by the deeds performed in this space. 

Do this in remembrance of them

The unveiling ceremony dedicated this land. Dignitaries spoke. Beautiful songs were raised. On behalf of Jan and Aagje, I was honored to be a part of it. I never knew them, but my heart tells me they would have been “embarrassed for all the fuss.” They were just doing what they knew to be right in their hearts for other men, women, and children traveling this life. Standing on Hallowed Ground

The marker will serve as a reminder of what happened there. To those who visit, I encourage you to walk the grounds with a sense of remembrance. Feel the emotions. Connect with the people who made this ground hallowed…those seeking freedom…and those lending a helping hand toward that freedom. 

Standing on Hallowed Ground

The author, left and The Netherlands Consul General Bart Twaalfhoven

Hallowed ground, indeed! 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In researching the concept of hallowed ground for this post, I came across Standing on Hallowed Ground: Practicing the Morality of Remembrance by Dr. Maulana Karenga. His words describe hallowed grounds in a way that moved me. Please click through and read it!

This past fall was to be my 45th high school reunion (yes, FORTY-FIFTH, I know, I’m old). We also learned last summer that the re-dedication celebration of the memorial in honor of my great-great-grandparents was to be held the very same day.

Let the wrestling match in my head begin…

…attend the reunion and see friends I had not seen in five years (or 45 years) …

…attend a celebration in Chicago with people we did not know…

…spend three days in Evansville attending dinners and lunches…

…drive to a celebration we knew little about…

…my high school days were far from my glory days (queue Bruce Springsteen) …

…being a direct descendant of the honorees would make us mini-celebrities…

…I was a shy, quiet, nerd in high school (I know, hard to believe, right?) …

…we would undoubtedly learn more about our family history…

…it would be a chance to see Hal, Beth, Tim, Kim, Jim, Harold, and others…

…besides, we’d already paid for the reunion…

…Chicago is a long way to go for an hour ceremony…

I chose the reunion.

A Funny thing happened on the way…to the reunion

As summer turned to fall, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about the decision a time or two (or, three), but did not waiver. Just after Labor Day, I received a message from a buddy of mine from high school. He needed to talk to me about something, could I jump on a call? Of course! Hal was one of those high school friends that I had reconnected with over the last decade. He and his wife, Beth (who I knew from church youth group as a kid) are one of the couples Carmen and I make a point to stay in touch with and to see them when we can. They have both had health scares since our last reunion five years ago. I dreaded the news he was likely to share.

As it turned out, Hal wanted to talk about the reunion. He was one of our class officers and has been involved in planning each reunion. Boy, was I relieved?!!? His news? It seems the planning committee had reached an impasse on masks/no masks, vaccines/no vaccines related to the pandemic. Rather than push the issue and cause hard feelings, the reunion was being canceled! No offense to Hal nor any of the other committee members, but I almost cheered. We immediately started making plans to attend the re-dedication celebration in South Holland.

A Funny thing happened on our way…to the re-dedication

I don’t recall when Carmen and I got the bug for tromping through cemeteries, nor do I recall how many we have tromped through. We have visited the graves of ancestors, historical figures, and servicemen and women (known to us and not) across the U.S and in Europe. It only seemed fitting we should visit Jan and Aagje’s graves in Mount Greenwood on our way to a ceremony rededicating a monument to their honor.

The 16th of October found us heading up I-65 early enough to spend an hour or so investigating the graves, grab lunch, and make it to the church on time. It was a crisp autumn day, a great day for exploring a cemetery for graves of ancestors and pioneers. Locating the Ton area was easy-peasy (thanks to FindaGrave.com!). Many of the headstones had been updated since the original internment. Some, however, were old enough to render them unreadable. We decided to venture over to the Cemetery office to investigate the plot maps.

The woman in the office was incredibly helpful. She pulled out records from 125 years ago when Jan died and was buried. We reviewed plot maps (and wished we had stopped in before trying to make sense of the headstones, would have made THAT a lot easier!). We learned enough to know we would like to go back when we have more time. We’d love to dig into some of those old records. Jan’s record indicates he died at home from cancer of the perineum (if I am reading the handwriting properly).

We decided we wanted to take the time to place flowers on Jan and Aagje’s headstones, so we headed to a nearby florist. As we talked with the clerk, we learned the shop typically closed at noon. She just happened to be staying late to meet with someone who had not arrived yet to pick up an arrangement. As we were preparing to leave, she asked if we would mind staying. The person she was supposed to meet was from the “east side”. I remember thinking, isn’t the east side of Chicago a lake? A little perplexed, but assuming from her tone we knew the source of her uneasiness. Not knowing what else to do, we agreed to stay. A few minutes later our suspicions were confirmed as two men, two African American men, arrived to pick up an arrangement for their mother’s plot.

It was a non-event. They picked up their flowers. They chatted cordially, and they left.

The irony. We had driven several hours to pay our respects to and celebrate emigrants who risked jail, bodily harm, and deportation to aid fellow human beings as they sought their freedom, and the clerk was apprehensive about meeting two men from “the east side”.  Over lunch, Carmen and I tried to focus on the ceremony ahead, but our minds kept returning to the clash of images separated by 150 years…

…was she being racist?

…was she being sensible and safe?

…as a woman, was she afraid to be alone with two men?

…was she afraid to be alone with them because they were from “the East Side”?

…was she afraid to be alone with them because she assumed they would be African American?

…she had no idea what reaction we would have, why did she even say anything?

…what should WE have done or said? We, ourselves, had been warned to be careful driving around Roseland because “it’s not a good area”.

 

Our lunch over, we headed to the Re-dedication Ceremony. We pushed the interaction out of our minds so we could be fully present at the celebration of the Memorial Garden.

The Re-dedication; a family reunion; and family extended

The memorial to Jan and Aagje is on the grounds of the First Reformed Church of South Holland. The site for the memorial was chosen because Jan had served as one of the first deacons of the church. We arrived a few minutes before the re-dedication was to begin. As soon as Carmen mentioned to the greeter that we were descendants of Jan and Aagje, we were promptly escorted into the downstairs meeting hall.

We were quickly introduced to Robin Scheldberg from the South Holland Historical Society. You may recall from my earlier ramblings; Robin had reached out to me after discovering one of my posts about Jan and Aagje. It was she that first told us about the rededication. Within moments we reunited with Nadine Harris Clark, the gardener extraordinaire who maintains the memorial gardens and who is also the aunt of LeRone Branch. You may recall from my earlier posts, LeRone was the Eagle Scout who led the effort to build the memorial.

We were both very anxious to meet LeRone. Personally, I wanted to shake his hand and thank him for honoring my great grandparents. Nadine shepherded us across the room in his direction. Before we reached LeRone, she stopped to introduce us to his Uncle Mike. Mike Cowan drafted the original design of the hardscape for the memorial and volunteers his time to help keep the gardens manicured.

Mike’s design is breathtaking. A 9,000-pound piece of granite serves as the centerpiece. Railroad tracks run across the garden disappear under the granite and reappear on the other side to represent the Underground Railroad. Surrounding the stone is a garden of flowers and grasses that would have been native to the prairie south of Chicago 150 years ago. A brick walkway leads from the drive to the memorial. A pair of benches sit to either side so one can sit and soak it all in.

After thanking Mike for his efforts and his design, we stepped across the room to shake hands with the man of the hour, LeRone. LeRone is now in his mid-twenties and a tax accountant for one of the big four firms. Ten years ago, as an aspiring Eagle Scout, he chose this project as his Eagle Scout Service project to complete the requirements of the rank. Now, I have never met a real rock star before, but my heart was racing like I was getting ready to shake hands with Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, or Ronnie Wood! What an amazing undertaking it must have been for a kid of, what? sixteen!

LeRone Branch

It was an honor to shake his hand, thank him for memorializing Jan and Aagje, and chat with him for a few minutes. His project serves primarily as a reminder of the brave souls who escaped enslavement and sought freedom by traveling on foot, by boat, sometimes by train. Many times, their ultimate destination was Canada. As historian Larry McClellan states, “to find freedom, they had to leave the land of the free”. Bravery is not the lack of fear, but rather the courage to act in the face of fear. As I view the memorial, yes, I think of Jan and Aagje, but more than those two ancestors, I think of the thousands of men, women, and children who traveled in, not just fear, but terror, towards freedom and a better life.

Eenigenburg – Ton Reunion

After chatting with LeRone, we made our way over to one of the display tables. It was covered with Ton family history pieces, most of which we had not seen before. We soon learned the pieces were from the collection of the keynote speaker, Merritt Bethig. Merritt is a descendant of my great-great-grandfather, Jan Ton of Holland (The Netherlands). Jan’s daughter Jannetje was my great-grandfather Jan’s sister. She married Gerrit Eenigenburg and emigrated to the U.S. on the same ship as Jan and Aagje. We soon learned there were many Eenigenburgs in attendance. We had a great time having a mini–Ton Family reunion. We met Merritt, of course, and his sister Jean Bristow. We also met Marie Eenigenburg Min and her cousin Bob Eenigenburg.

Moments before the program was to begin Nadine approached me. Somewhat nervously she asked if I would be willing to say a few words during the program. With a quick glance at Carmen, I smiled and said, “absolutely, I would be honored”. As Nadine walked away, I turned to Carmen and said with a chuckle, “now…to think about what I am going to say…”.

The Program – the distant past; the not-so-distant past;  and the future

Nadine quieted the crowd and thanked everyone for attending the rededication ceremony. She asked LeRone to come and sit in one of the chairs sitting in the front of the room. Somewhat shyly, and perhaps a little embarrassed with all the attention, he took his place.

Pastor Jim Oord of the First Reformed Church welcomed us to the church. He told a short story of Jan bringing firewood to the first pastors of the church to help keep them (and the church warm). The image of Jan, with his wagon full of wood, riding across the prairie to the church served as another piece of the puzzle forming the picture of Jan and Aagje.

Special recognition was given to Anthony Volek of Volek Brothers Construction, Anthony was one of LeRone’s Scout Masters. Not only did he provide leadership, but he had access to the heavy equipment needed to build the hardscape, including moving the 9,000-pound boulder from the quarry to the site. Amazing what a team of Scouts can do in a day…with some great leaders and the right equipment!

The next speaker was Bill Paarlberg Past President of the South Holland Historical Society, it was his suggestion to honor Jan and Aagje in this way that led to the entire project. The Historical Society has a great collection of materials that tell the story of the area from the early 1800s through today. You can bet Carmen and I will be diving deep into these materials!

Merritt Bethig

For his keynote presentation, Merritt Bethig focused on the trip from The Netherlands, to France, to New York, and ultimately, to High and Low Prairie south of Chicago (today’s Roseland and South Holland). The Hollanders, as they came to be called, consisted of 65 men, women, and children who left their homeland and headed to America in 1849. Not long into the journey, the ship was besieged with cholera. 17 of the Hollanders died. One can only imagine the filth, the smells, the vermin, and the death that made the journey intolerable.

From New York, they traveled the Hudson River to the Erie Canal. After traversing the Canal, they boarded another ship to navigate the Great Lakes, arriving at the port of Chicago 60 some-odd days since leaving their homeland. Upon arriving in Chicago, they met up with some Hollanders who had preceded them and settled about 20 miles south in the prairie lands near the Little Calumet River. Given the low-lying marshy lands in the area, it must have felt a bit like home.

Much of Merritt’s talk was based on the book by another Ton relative, Jill Eenigenburg. Her book, From Tulipland to Roseland and Back, tells the story of the Eenigenburg family and the creation of a museum in the village of Eenigenburg, The Netherlands. The Tons and the Eenigenburgs have been intertwined for over 170 years!

After the keynote, Nadine turned to me and asked me to speak. My first instinct was to walk across the front of the room to LeRone, shake his hand, and thank him for honoring my ancestors. I then spoke for a few minutes about our “discovery” of the story of Jan and Aagje and our trip to the area the previous summer.

Tom Sheppard took up the story and shared about the Tons’ involvement in the Underground Railroad. Tom is one of the founders of the Little Calumet River Underground Railroad Project. He provided an update on the project including a canoe trail on the Little Calumet and signage to be placed in several spots in the area, including at the site of Jan and Aagje’s farm.

It was now time to hear from the man of the hour, LeRone Branch himself. When Bill Paarlberg suggested the idea of a memorial to the Underground Railroad and Jan and Aagje Ton, LeRone pictured a plaque on a pole. Pretty simple, right? A plaque on a pole…until Uncle Mike got ahold of the idea! LeRone’s vision of a plaque on a pole turned into quite a project! LeRone graciously thanked all those involved in the original project, as well as those responsible for the rededication ceremony itself.

The final speaker of the day was Nadine herself. She talked about the plant selection for the gardens and the group of volunteers that maintain them. The group researched the types of plants that would have been native to the Great Lakes Region at the time. They continue to research and as they learn more, they update the garden.

After the program, there was time to view the exhibits, chat with new friends, and snap a picture or two (or three or four). A group of us then walked out to the memorial. It had changed. It had taken on new meanings. The words from the program echoed in our heads and hearts. Here we were surrounded by family…cousins who had never met. Here we were surrounded by new friends…Nadine, her sisters, LeRone, Uncle Mike…new friends that now felt like family.

How I wish the clerk at the florist could have joined us that day. How I wish she could have felt what we felt that day. How I wish…

 

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I know this was a long post. Thank you for sticking with me through the story! Before I wrap things up, I want to name some names, as a way of thanking THEM for the work they have done.

Development of the Memorial Garden

Garden Construction: July 9, 2011

Initial Planting: August 10, 2011

Dedication: October 15, 2011

  • South Holland Historical Society and Bill Paarlberg (initiated project)
  • Boy Scout Troop 409 and Scoutmasters Mark Cipich and Anthony Volek
  • South Holland Garden Club
  • Larry McClellan and Paul Petraitis, Historians
  • Paul Ton, Original Working Committee
  • Rochelle Harris Branch (LeRone’s Mother), Original Working Committee
  • Yolanda Harris, Original Working Committee
  • Pastor Mel DeVries, First Reformed Church and Original Working Committee (Deceased)
  • Richard Zimmerman, First Reformed Church, and Original Working Committee.
  • Robin Scheldberg, President, South Holland Historical Society, and President, South Holland Garden Club
  • Lynn Larsen, South Holland Historical Society, South Holland Garden Club, and Original Working Committee
  • Nadine Harris Clark Garden Coach
  • Mike Cowan, drafted the original design of the hardscape and currently helps maintain the garden

Rededication Ceremony

  • Nadine Harris Clark
  • Robin Scheldberg
  • Richard Zimmerman
  • Pastor Jim Oord, First Reformed Church of South Holland
  • The Congregation of the First Reformed Church of South Holland
  • Weed and Feed Club (Charlie and Rich)
  • South Holland Garden Club
  • South Holland Historical Society

A special, heartfelt thanks to LeRone Branch and Nadine Harris Clark, truly a part of our family.

Welcome to the collision of two storylines. I don’t know how often this happens to other authors, but I believe this is a first for me in over a decade of blogging. A few years ago I wrote a series of posts in the form of fairy tales. The fairy tales took place in a magical kingdom called Serendip and were a way to convey the story of my father’s declining health. The final installment was written just a few days after his death in December of 2019. Last year I started another series titled “A Journey” after I made a surprising discovery about my great-great-grandparents. I learned they operated a stop on the underground railroad for a number of years. I promised to continue to provide updates as we discovered more of the story. Those two stories came together this past summer. 

Even though the title of the third installment of the fairy tale series was “The Land of Serendip – The Final Chapter”, it was not the final chapter. My father’s wish was to have his ashes scattered in Green Lake, Wisconsin where we had scattered mom’s ashes in 2014. Our plans to make that trek in the summer of 2020 were derailed by, yep, the global pandemic. We put our plans on the shelf, well, actually, we put dad on the shelf…literally. 

A Journey Through the Land of Serendip

Jan & Aagje Ton

Early in the summer, we made the discovery about my great-great-grandparents. That prompted me to write the “A Journey” series. Fast forward to the summer of 2021. We began to make plans to take dad to be with mom. Our plans included a stop in South Holland, Illinois, to visit the site of the Jan and Aagje (pronounced ahk-e-ya) Ton Memorial Gardens. Jan and Aagje are my great-great-grandparents. In June, almost a year to the day since I posted the first installment of that series, Duane DeYoung left a comment on the post. He, too, is a descendant of Jan and Aagje. 

A few weeks later, I received a letter, yes, an actual letter. The return address was the South Holland Historical Society. Curious, I tore open the envelope. Inside was a letter from Robin Schedberg, she, too, found my post. She was writing to let me know about a rededication ceremony to commemorate the tenth anniversary of the memorial garden. The ceremony was scheduled for October 16th. The same date as my…well, I’m not saying which one, suffice it to say I am old…high school reunion five hours away in the opposite direction. Over the summer we texted and emailed several times. Robin sent some wonderful photographs of some historical pieces they have in the Society library. 

We toyed with the idea of delaying our trip to scatter dad’s ashes until October but given the conflict with the reunion and the fact that October is the off-season for the Green Lake area, we decided to move ahead with our plans for an August trip. Our itinerary included a stop in South Holland to meet local historian, Larry McClellan, view the memorial, and tour the area. We would continue to Green Lake, spend a couple of days, scatter dad’s ashes and then return home. At the invitation of Duane DeYoung, we planned to stop by his home in Wisconsin on our return trip. 

Days before we were to embark on our adventure, Duane wrote saying he had been in contact with Robin and she could meet us on Monday afternoon in South Holland. It had not occurred to me to share our full itinerary with him. I picked up the phone and called him. Imagine that a letter and a phone call in the same story! I explained Larry’s availability was limited to Friday and we were planning to meet him at the memorial site. A day or so later, Duane let me know that he and his wife June would meet us at the site on Friday, and we were still more than welcome to stop by their home the following Monday. 

With that preamble, welcome to “A Journey Through the Land of Serendip”. Friday morning, August 13th, my wife, Carmen, my son, Brad and I loaded the car and headed north. Oh yeah, dad was with us too, but he didn’t help load the car. I can’t tell you how many times one of us asked, “so, do we have dad?”. No one wanted to drive all day without the guest of honor! 

Trying to coordinate a meetup on the South Side of Chicago, when one group was coming from Indianapolis (three hours away), another group was coming from Lake Geneva (a couple of hours away), and the tour guide, although local, on a tight schedule was a little tricky, especially when Chicago traffic can change in an instant. What did we do before text messaging, GPS, and traffic apps? We arrived at the memorial a few minutes before the appointed time. The memorial sits on the grounds of the First Reformed Church of South Holland, somewhat apropos considering my father was a minister. We learned that Jan had been one of the founders of the church and served as a Deacon for a number of years. That was one of the reasons for selecting the site, and one of the reasons Jan and Aagje were selected to be honored and remembered. 

A Journey Through the Land of Serendip

Carmen, Jeff & Brad Ton

Hoping to have some private time at the memorial, we were a little disappointed to see a woman tending the flowers in the garden surrounding the monument. Our disappointment was short-lived as once again the magic of serendipity struck. The woman tending the flowers was Nadine Harris-Clark, the aunt of LeRone Branch, the Eagle Scout who was the force behind the memorial.  We soon learned, Larry had given her a heads up we would be there. Not only did she want to meet us, but she also brought a photo album of the building of the memorial. She was beaming with pride as she talked about the project, the care that had been taken to select plants native to the area to surround the monument, and her nephew LeRone.  

The memorial itself is a 9,000-pound piece of granite. We had seen pictures of the gardens and the stone the previous year when we discovered this amazing story. What was hard to see in the pictures were the railroad tracks that ran under the stone as a symbol of the underground railroad. The scene was breathtaking. The tracks seemed to emerge from the native flowers, disappear underground, and reemerge on the other side of the stone, only to disappear again in the flowers. We were all near tears as we took it all in. 

A Journey Through the Land of SerendipLarry soon arrived, followed shortly thereafter by Duane and June. Let the reunion commence! Larry has been researching the history of the area, the Tons, and the Underground Railroad for years. He has written numerous articles and books on the subject. We stood near the monument while he shared the history with us. He believes between four and five hundred Freedom Seekers passed through this area on their way to Canada. “They had to leave the land of the free, to become free”, he stated. 

Freedom Seekers would travel north from Missouri, western Kentucky, and parts south, along the Mississippi and the Illinois Rivers and then overland to Chicago. Arriving in Chicago, they would rest before heading south around Lake Michigan and on to Detroit where they would cross into Canada. It was on the southern trek around the lake they likely encountered my great-great-grandparents. Jan and Aagje owned a farm on the northern shore of the Little Calumet River. They would hide them, feed them, provide them a place to rest, and then help them on their way to Indiana. They had purchased the farm from George Dolton, who operated first a ferry then a toll bridge over the river. It is likely Dolton who directed many of the Freedom Seekers to the Ton Farm. 

After the history lesson, Larry, Duane, and Brad crammed into the backseat of our SUV and we drove to the location of the Ton Farm. Larry continued our history lesson as we drove, identifying this road and that road as old Indian trails and routes Jan would have taken to get to Indiana with his precious cargo. We crossed the river at the Indiana Avenue bridge. This would have been where Dolton’s toll bridge once spanned the water. 

A Journey Through the Land of Serendip

Location of the Ton Farm

Chicago’s Finest Marina now sits on the site of the Ton Farm. The owner of the marina, retired Chicago Police Officer, Ronald Gaines, was unable to meet us and the gates were locked. We took turns peering through the iron gate at what would have been the location of the Ton home. The farm was originally 40 acres, so we walked a gravel road that ran along the river. It was an incredible feeling to walk where my ancestors would have walked 170 years ago and to peer out on the river they peered upon. 

Larry shared the Little Calumet River Underground Railroad Project was a group of volunteers who are researching the area and identifying historical places of interest. They are creating a water trail down on the river and will be placing markers, one of which will be at the Ton site. Being avid canoeists in our younger days, we are looking forward to paddling the trail! We piled back into the car and headed back to the Church, not before stopping on the Indiana Avenue bridge so Carmen could take a picture looking from the bridge to the farm a short distance downstream. 

 

Once back to the church, we bid adieu to Larry and Nadine (who was still there tending to the flowers). Duane and June left to meet Robin at the library. We needed to continue our Journey Through the Land of Serendip.

A Journey Through the Land of Serendip

Larry McClellan & Nadine Harris-Clark

Without having to give a spoiler alert for the continuing series, one of the things I need to share is the uncomfortable feeling I get every time we thank someone associated with the memorial project for creating this monument to Jan and Aagje. Why uncomfortable? Because when we thank them, they thank us for what Jan and Aagje (and others) did 170 years ago. We are honored they chose to remember Jan and Aagje. We are honored to be descended from Jan and Aagje. 

Related Posts:

Serendipity – A Fairy Tale

The Land of Serendip Revisited

The Land of Serendip – The Final Chapter

A Journey 

A Journey Continues

From “Down an Indian Trail in 1849” by Mary K. Rowlands

Last month, as you may recall, I invited you along on a journey: a journey of discovery into some of my family history. I’ve learned a lot in one month..but have a lot more to learn. I’ve exchanged LinkedIn messages with LeRone Branch, the Eagle Scout turned Tax Accountant, who helped develop the memorial to my great-great-grandparents Jan and Aagje (Vander Sijde) Ton. I’ve emailed several times with Paul Ton of Michigan, descended from Jan’s brother, Harmen, and I’ve read two and a half books that mention Jan and others in the Ton family. 

Correcting the Record

Part of what I have learned is that I had some of my facts wrong in my post last month. In that post, I mentioned Jan and Aagje immigrated to the U.S from Holland (Netherlands) in the 1840s with eight of their nine children. That is not correct. As is often the case with old records, it is easy to get confused when children carry the same name as one of their parents. Many times records do not include suffixes such as Jr. or Sr. or even II and III. 

My great-great-grandfather, Jan, was 23 years old and single when he immigrated to the U.S. aboard the ship, “Massachusetts of Boston”, sailing from Le Havre, France in April of 1849. Jan was the son of Jan and Peterje (Stam) Ton, my great-great-great-grandparents. THEY had nine children. It was eight of their nine children who, over time, immigrated to the U.S. So, you can see how confusing that can get! The “Massachusetts of Boston” carried two Tons across the Atlantic, Jan and his married sister, Jannetje (Ton) Eenigenburg. Many of the families settled south of Chicago near Lake Calumet. Jan and eight other immigrants are considered the founding fathers of what is now Roseland, Illinois. 

It appears from the records I can find there might have been some shenanigans going on onboard the ship. Jan and Aagje’s first son, Jan Jr. was born in February of 1850. Jan and Aagje would marry in 1853 and raise 14 children to adulthood.

The Underground Railroad

I am certain to have many more stories to tell as I learn more, but, I do want to relate a story that directly connects Jan and Aagje to the Under Ground Rail Road. The story is found in the 1923 book “The Wonder of the Dunes” by George A. Brennan. You see, what is now Indiana Dunes National Park was traveled by many freedom seekers on their way from Chicago to Detroit and on into Canada. The Hollanders settlement near Lake Calumet was a leading station along that portion of the underground railroad. 

This particular story was retold many times over the years by Cornelius Kuyper, a dear friend of my great-great-grandfather’s and the town constable. Mr. Brennan records the story in his book. In his capacity as the constable, Kuyper was often called upon to assist in capturing run-away freedom seekers. He would attack each request with such zeal and effort, he would receive praise from slave owners and sheriffs alike…though…he never succeeded in capturing any freedom seekers.  

A Story to Tell

As Kuyper tells the story, one day he was visited by a slave owner from Kentucky, a sheriff deputy from Chicago, and a posse. They were pursuing three freedom seekers, each with a $3,000 price on their heads. As was his norm, Kuyper searched high and low for the runaways, even taking the posse as far as the Illinois-Indiana state line. Once again, he came up empty-handed. 

When they returned to Kuyper’s home, his wife Maartje prepared and served them a meal before they headed back to Chicago. After they were safely on their way, Kuyper headed into his cellar, opened a trap door, and summoned one of the freedom seekers who he had hidden away. He then went to the barn and moved part of an immense stack of hay, the other two freedom seekers emerged. He fed them, had them climb in his wagon covered them with cobs of corn, and took them to the home of Jan Ton. Jan hitched up his wagon, transferred the precious cargo, and headed out toward Indiana. Near the town of Hohman Bridge (today’s Hammond, Indiana), the cargo was transferred to another wagon. The freedom seekers were well on their way to Canada. 

One can only imagine the countless times these men and women provided this service to others on their journey! 

As I learn more, we will continue on this journey together. Until next time!