The First Word #9: The Story of a Summer Home, Nederland, Colorado

My husband Seth’s grandparents were known throughout the family for their summer home in Nederland, Colorado, commonly referred to as “the Cabin.” When I became part of the family I heard stories and was shown pictures of events at the Cabin. It was a place where the whole family came together and created a lot of happy memories.

Seth’s grandfather, Paul Furbeck, wanted a home in the mountains. He and his wife Margaret lived in Abilene, Kansas––it is a good eight or nine hour drive from Abilene to Nederland. One of their daughters was living in Evergreen, Colorado, so in 1976 she began scouting the area for land that they could consider buying. She found a 1.8 acre lot on the southern side of Nederland for about $7500. For Grandpa, the view sold it. The Cabin would have a perfect view of the town below and the Indian Peaks to the North.

Grandpa wanted to build the house from scratch. He was always interested in working with his hands and this would be no exception. He bought the house from a company called Capp Homes who sold houses in kits. Capp had a crew come to the lot and build the framing for the foundation. The family helped out and then built the rest of the house.

The foundation and basement was poured in 1977. They lived in a camper during the time they were there until the house was in a livable condition. They were able to begin living in the Cabin about the end of the summer of 1978.

When they first built the home, they would come to Colorado at the end of May, after school let out for the year, because Grandma was a school teacher. They would return to Abilene before school was back in session for the fall. After they retired, they stayed longer. One year they didn’t leave until after Thanksgiving. During that trip they discovered how the snow would get packed thick on the county road and that their driveway would develop a terrible drift in the winter that soon became impassable. They would have to park the car at the top of the driveway and walk down to the Cabin through the trees, creating a trail.

I remember times visiting my husband’s grandparents at the Cabin. They would be out in Colorado for a few weeks in the summer and we’d go visit. Seth’s grandma liked to take drives in the mountains––we’d just get in the car and see where we ended up. One day we drove up to Caribou, a ghost town, and had a picnic. Once we drove down Magnolia Road, a very steep and narrow road, where she picked up a hitchhiker who needed a ride to the highway to catch the bus. (I never would have imagined Grandma picking up a hitchhiker!) Another time we drove through Ward and down the mountain the “back way” into Boulder.

As they grew older, they were able to stay less and less. Four months gradually turned into two, then just a few weeks. Eventually the house was empty for most of the year except for the occasional visit by an aunt or cousin who was out for a ski trip. The last summer they came to visit their summer home was 2001. At that point, Seth and I were living there with our son Ethan.

In 1999, we were living in Aurora when Seth got a job in Boulder. We decided it was time to move closer to his job. This was just about the time when the grandparents had only been able to come to their summer home for a few weeks each summer and the drive was getting longer and harder for them to make. We needed a place to live, they needed someone to take care of their house. It was a perfect fit! We moved into the Cabin in March 2000. Ethan was born in December 2000 and his first home was that Nederland, Colorado mountain home. It is a beautiful house in a beautiful town.

The house is still owned by Seth’s grandma. When Seth got a new job in Longmont and we had our second child, Ellie, we felt the need to move to Longmont and purchase our own home. Now the Cabin is being rented, by the same couple for the last 5 years. They love it and take great care of the house.

That house has blessed this family with so many wonderful memories––pictures of various grandchildren visiting, an old pile of walking sticks collected in the woods. It stands for so many experiences and is a family treasure. Not as small as a family bible or photo album, but a house can be a genealogical treasure too. Built by the hands of the family, it holds a lot of spirit within its walls.

First Word #3 - Ask Grandma First

The First Word:
Ask Grandma First
by Cari A. Taplin

We all know that the first rule of genealogy is to TALK TO YOUR RELATIVES. The second rule of genealogy is to TALK TO YOUR RELATIVES. Every beginning genealogy book, article or class will tell you to first to TALK TO YOUR RELATIVES.

How do you know what to ask? How do you know what information Grandma has in her head? I can never guess what my grandma is going to reveal to me next! I can ask her a question directly about her family and she won’t know the answer. Then she’ll tell me some obscure item about great aunt Betty she’s only met one time 60 years ago–someone I would never have thought to ask her about. If some one has an easier way to figure this out, please let me know. But I digress. . .

I want to share an experience that happened to me this summer. My family and I took a rather long vacation–two weeks in Ohio and another week in Kansas. My main area of research is in northwestern Ohio. Every time we go back, I spend at least a day or two at area libraries seeking and finding more information. And of course, I spend time asking Grandma questions.

This summer I discovered that the public library in Perrysburg, Ohio had just acquired copies of the records of Zoar Lutheran Church covering 1859 through 1930. What luck! My Miller family were all members of Zoar Lutheran Church and had been for as far back as Grandma can remember. This gives me a new source to work with, which is great because I have the wonderful opportunity to research the surname “Miller.” And not just any “Miller” but “unique” names such as William Miller, John Miller, Fred and Mary Miller. (I need to see the cup half full and take this as a way to really hone my genealogical skills, right?)

In researching these newly available church records, I came across a marriage for a possible brother to my ancestor William John Miller, a Fred Miller married to Mary Kopp. I knew from other research that William did indeed have a brother named Fred but I didn’t know much about him. I was excited to find this bit of information but didn’t know exactly how to go about proving that this Fred was my relative. The only bit of information I had on Fred Miller was from William’s obituary which stated that at the time of William’s death his brother Fred lived in Trilby, Ohio.1 It did not mention a wife or any children. I could not tell from the obituary if he had married. I began going over the possible ways to prove the theory in my head. It would involve a lot of work: trips to libraries, time on the internet and so on to connect this Fred and Mary (Kopp) Miller to William Miller.

So the next mental step I took was to locate Trilby. So I asked Grandma “Do you have an atlas I could borrow?” (Not “Do you know where Trilby is?” Duh.) After not finding it on the map my grandma asks me what I’m looking for. So I tell her about William’s obituary and the clue that his brother Fred was in Trilby, Ohio and I was trying to locate it.

Well, her next statement sort of hit me as a “boy, I’m not thinking straight” moment. She said “Oh, you mean Uncle Fred and Aunt Mary.” That clinched it for me. Granted, Fred and Mary Miller are common names, but the fact that they attended this particular small church and Grandma put those names together without my prompting, has led me to believe it is “probably true” that Fred Miller, brother of William, married Mary Kopp. You have some “probably trues” in your own research too, don’t you?

I will be doing other research to verify this, but the “ah-ha” moment of grandma’s simple statement made me realize a few things. First of all, after doing what I consider “serious genealogy” for about 5 years now, I think I’ve gotten tunnel vision. I’ve been doing research in books, newspapers, online and such for so long that I didn’t even think to ask a living, breathing relative. I didn’t even consider it. Genealogy is all about studying dead relatives anyway, right? I should have asked her first if she’d known William’s brother and his wife. Or at the very least I should have asked her if she knew where Trilby was before I broke out the map.

The second and maybe most eye-opening thing I’ve come to realize is that there is no rhyme or reason to the information that people can or cannot remember. You just have to talk to them and find out what knowledge is hidden their heads. Maybe you’ve had similar experiences. Surely it isn’t just me.

1. William J. Miller obituary, The Perrysburg Journal, Perrysburg, Ohio, 29 August 1952, p 1, c 5.