Shedding Light on an Unknown Ancestor

A sad footnote to the story "The Short Life of Alois F. Petrasek"

Alois was my father’s granduncle, whom he never met, who was never talked about and, as it turns out, no recent relative even knew existed! Check out the first part or second part of the story, if you missed them.

Alois is a name of Slavic origin and it means “famous warrior.” But this Alois, arguably a warrior, was not famous. Until I started shaking the branches and digging away at research, no one in my family had ever heard of Alois. And to me, this is the saddest part of his life and something most of us fear: will we be remembered?

The first four children of Alois’ parents all died long before Alois and most of his other siblings were born, so it isn’t surprising to me that no one knew about them. But, given the death of their mother when he was born, not to mention the trauma that made up a good portion of his short life, I am surprised that no one had ever heard of Alois. So, in a way, researching and introducing him to our family has been cathartic — especially as I consider the saying “what’s remembered is lived”… because Alois’ short life is worth knowing.

There is a truckload of information related to his two major accidents, mostly via newspapers.com articles. And those have been invaluable in finding out the detailed facts of his life. But as I read between the lines, I learned more:

• Alois was industrious. In his short life there is record of five different occupations. Between the ages of 17 and 23, he worked at a grocery store as a bagger; he was a messenger for a short stint; he was learning to be a moulder at the local foundry, like his father; he held a position as clerk at a tire shop in Kansas City; and in the end, he was a restaurant owner.

• He wasn’t afraid to try new things, even if it meant doing it solo, as evidenced by the fact that he left Minnesota and everyone he knew for a job three states away. And, something that was quite uncommon back then: jumping into whole new careers every few years!

• There are no known photos of Alois, but in my imagination he was trim, handsome and maybe even a bit of a charmer. Having survived his own birth when his mother did not and having survived the horrific train accident, I suspect he felt rather invincible.

Alois’ body was moved from Iowa to Minnesota and buried at Calvary Cemetery in St. Paul, Minnesota. Fourteen years later, his father, Frank, was buried next to him. Neither Alois nor Frank are included in the cemetery’s index, oddly. Photo by Kirsi Dahl.

It’s my belief that losing Alois was one of the hardest things that ever happened to his older sister, Lottie, who had raised him from birth. More heartbreaking than losing her mother and perhaps even more than losing her own child in a stillbirth. She and her husband were essentially Alois’ parents and neither of them made the trip to Iowa to claim his body and serve as “informant” for the death certificate. I believe they were wrought with grief, not only for the death but for the awful way in which it occurred. Maybe talking about him was just too painful and that’s why no one had heard of him.

I often wonder who he may have been with at Crystal Lake Resort on that fateful day. Friends? A special friend? What would his life have been like had he not leaped from the high drive?

Time works hard to bury the past and that’s where genealogy researchers come in — to help us remember those that came before.

Here’s my message to Alois: I know you. You are remembered.

Check out some of the research efforts that went into uncovering Alois’ story in my podcast.