The Widmer Tour around Montbéliard

Dear Mother,

Make yourself as comfortable as you can, with your cough and all--this is a major bog.  A cup of tea might be in order.  Although I am supplying the photos and the bones of this story, the fine details are all thanks to Janice (and can therefore be trusted!)  Here we go . . . .

On Friday, I picked up a car at the local Avis rental place in Charenton, climbed in, tried to refresh my memory on how to shift, and promptly stalled the car, three times without any difficulty whatsoever.  Not a good omen for anyone about to face traffic in Paris, its roundabouts and the like.  But I made it back to the Centre, and, with some traffic stacking up behind me, tried to back up in order to parallel park.  Of course, knowing how to get into reverse tends to be helpful at such times, and for the life of me, I couldn't figure how to get it into reverse.  So, ever onward, and I took off, going forward (after another quick stall).  I later figured out how to squeeze a ring on the gear shift into an upward position, which enables reverse.  Fortunately, there is more to report than my ignorance.

We loaded the car, engaged our Canadian GPS, hoping that its advertised European maps would indeed suffice.  They did, missing only a new exit on a roundabout and one very recent highway entrance, both of which we could navigate by sight.  I figure our GPS will be paid for by the end of our stay, and then we take it back to use in North America.  Neal had given us directions concerning the route he favours, and our GPS finally reluctantly went along with our decision.  The drive to eastern France took about 4.5 hours.  Our little Twingo (the bigger cousin of the Twizy, which they don't yet rent) was sufficient, but without air conditioning or much power for the long climbs in the mountains.  I just had to swallow my pride and let BMWs, Audis, Mercedes, etc. pass me without effort.

We arrived in the little suburb of Belfort called Danjoutin, where we had booked an Ibis Budget hotel online several months ago.  The village was very quiet, with a few restaurants, and some very kind people.  The next day, we drove a few minutes to the little village of Trevenans, where we met Hélène Widmer, the Anabaptist genealogist with whom Janice has corresponded.  Over the decades, she spent many of her hours after work pouring over books of civil records covering Belfort and other archives.  She would write down each name known to be a "Mennonite" name, and the annotation accompanying it.  This is invaluable work.  From this, and other investigations, she pieced together stories, families, etc.

Hélène lives in the home where her parents had lived, with an attached barn, and her sister lives next door.   

I noticed that the inside doors still have fantastic hinges.  I had to wonder how old they might be by now.

Janice pointed out a lazy lizard sunning itself on the warm outside wall of the house.

Hélène's French was utterly clear, and she was truly patient with ours.  We were instantly on good terms.  The afternoon's tour and Sunday were to be just wonderful, providing insights into Anabaptist life in that part of the world.

Among other connections made over the weekend, it turns out that Hélène had a photo of Aunt Rachel Weaver Kreider, another avid genealogist.  Hélène was so pleased that we know and visit Aunt Rachel, and she kept repeating, "cent quatre ans!" (104 years old!)  We told her that Rachel was turning 105 on May 28. I also reported on some of Aunt Rachel's publications, what she did with her library and all her papers, etc.  These are questions Hélène is also facing.  Fortunately, a few scholars have already made photocopies of some of her work.

She created an informative family tree, of which this is but a part.  One can only admire such careful detective work.  And I marvel at how many families used the name "Christ" over and over, generation after generation.  "Christ Graber, son of Christ Graber" hardly helps us beginners.

We also looked at a map showing the Anabaptist areas.  The photo may not be adequate to show the word "Etobon" in the yellow area at the top of the map.  This is the village Janice has focused on for the Vonier family, both through civil records (online) and by our visit in 2011.

Before we turn to the tour itself, I had to take a photo of the chickens next door.  Since Janice's first pet was a chicken, our computers seem to have quite a few such photos.

Our first stop was at a Graber farm in Dambois.  The Grabers were very kind, allowing us to take photos.  By now, many living in old former Anabaptist farms are accustomed to North Americans descending, at times by the bus load, to catch a glimpse of some of the ancestral farms.  But this stop was special for us because we learned that the present residents of this renovated farm building are the parents of one of our Parisian friends, Anne-Cathy, who is actively involved as an Associate at the Centre Mennonite de Paris and is a sister in the Communauté du Chemin Neuf ('The New Way'). We are distant cousins.

Next, we headed off to see an ancestral Schadt farm in Grand Charmont.  "Schadt" is of course yet another version of the name Short/Shad, etc. Unfortunately, the municipality has purchased this once prominent and well-kept farm and has let it fall into disrepair.

Our next stop was to see the Goll farm not far away in Grand Charmont.  The nearness of these two farms (#1 and #19 on Rue de Paquis) may explain why Françoise Schadt (Short) married Jean Georges Goll in 1809.  The name 'Goll' is known in Northwestern Ohio because a daughter and her husband (also a Goll) donated their large farm with woods (Goll Woods Nature Preserve) to the State of Ohio.  I remember Janice enjoying our driving on a public road through the woods, its rich foliage sometimes forming a complete canopy through which you move, allowing us to marvel at the luxuriant growth and the woods itself, unharvested by any of European ancestry.

The doorway of this house has the inscription, G F G 1864. The initials stand for Georges Frederick Goll, the name of Françoise's father-in-law, who lived from 1751-1806, but identical names are used in families, and the date likely refers to a later GFG in the Goll family.
 

An elderly man came out of the garden to greet us and tell us about the Golls.  He even knew about the Goll Cemetery in Ohio!  Just before we left, he ensured that we admire this magnificent and orderly pile of nicely composted manure, calling it 'more valuable than gold.'  That's the kind of stuff that can make your veggies look terrific--far better than anything we can purchase in Vancouver.  They seem to 'harvest' it like peat.

Helene took us to two farms owned by the Lugbill families in Mont-Chevis, on the outskirts of Montbéliard. The first one is #50 and may have been owned by a Pierre Lugbill.

Just north of that one is #52, possibly owned by a Hans/Jean Lugbill. Janice would like to think that the Hans/Jean Lugbill is the one in her ancestry, but that would take some work to determine since the same names are used over and over.

We were shown a copy of an old photo of the Ferme du Mont-Chevis.

By enlarging part of it, we can catch a vague glimpse of some Anabaptist (Mennonite) women standing in the shade, wearing typical Anabaptist dress of the era.

The Lugbill farms are now owned by others, and new houses have been built on the former farmland. The family donated a plot of land nearby for the Mont-Chevis Anabaptist Cemetery.  For some time, Anabaptists were not allowed to bury in most Reformed or Catholic cemeteries.  By contrast, these days one hears of interesting dialogues and instances of cooperation between the various Christian groups.

The area in the eastern part of Montbéliard is becoming more and more industrial, much of it as a result of the xpansions of the Peugeot company. Tucked into the former farmland was a large Graber farm, now diminished in size by the Peugeot company and new houses that have been built. One of the large farmhouses on the main road has been renovated with government funds into La fromagerie du Pied des Gouttes (a cooperative where eight producers make cheese).  More information. The parking lot for the fromagerie (not pictured) is the site of the old church building (Les Gouttes) where the Anabaptists met, where many of  Janice's ancestors were baptized as teenagers in the 1800's. We visited one last Graber farm, this one is down a little road behind the fromagerie.

A granddaughter of the Grabers kindly talked to us, and pointed out a stone doorway which many Mennonites like to photograph:  "J 1 8   3 8 G" (signifying Jean Graber, 1838) but one would have to pore over genealogies to determine exactly which "Jean Graber" this is.

It is fun seeing the outside of these old former granaries/barns now being turned into comfortable modern homes.  Of course, houses and barns were often connected in this region, so only the home part needs modernizing, but sometimes some of the former barns were also being converted into living areas. We are pleased to see that at least some of the old buildings are being treasured and preserved.

We are glad we went!  I'm sure Janice will have still more questions for Hélène to ponder, and she in turn, benefited from Janice's solving the occasional problem.

Enough for now, with love from us both,

Evan