The Shemwell Family

Bertha and Bertie Ritter appear to be twins. In the 1885 Census they are both listed as 2yrs old. In the 1895 Census they are both listed as 12 yrs old. In the 1900 Census they are both listed as 17yrs old. The birth date for each one is shown as June 1882. There is a source entitled "Ritter, Iowa, County Births, 1880-1935". It list a child(ren) both with the surname as "Ritter" and shows the parents as Jeremiah Ritter and Margaret Gibson. Considering both children as each listed in various Census's records with the same birth date/age, it is safe to assume that they are probably twins.

SPECIAL REPORTS Children who rode the orphan train in 1900 posed for a photo. KANSAS STATE HISTORICAL SOCIETY A CRUEL SOCIAL EXPERIMENT, OR SAVIOR FOR HOMELESS KIDS? FOSTER CARE’S UNUSUAL START BY JUDY L. THOMAS AND LAURA BAUER UPDATED DECEMBER 17, 2019 12:05 PM CONCORDIA, KANSAS Huddled in the local opera house, the townsfolk anxiously awaited the train’s arrival. Some came out of curiosity, but many had been anticipating this moment for weeks. Advertising for the events looked like this: WANTED: Homes for Children. A company of homeless children from the East will arrive at TROY, MO., ON FRIDAY, FEB. 25th, 1910. … The citizens of this community are asked to assist the agent in finding good homes for them…Distribution will take place at the Opera House Friday, Feb. 25, at 1:30 p.m. Then the crowd fell silent. A group of abandoned and orphaned boys and girls, dressed in their Sunday best and shipped halfway across the country on a rail car, appeared on stage. Weary and bewildered, they lined up from shortest to tallest to be inspected. Some were poked and prodded, their teeth checked and muscles felt. Others sang, danced or recited poetry and Bible verses, told that doing so would make them more appealing to their potential new parents. And in many cases, the children held up a number that would match them to the family that had special-ordered them. Then one by one, children were selected and whisked away to their new homes. For more than seven decades, the scene played out in small towns across America. Formally called “placing out,” the program became known as the Orphan Train Movement — the largest migration of children in U.S. history. Experts estimate that as many as one in six Americans alive today may have had a relative who rode one of the “orphan trains.” From 1854 to 1929, a quarter of a million homeless and poverty-stricken children — thousands who had been living on the streets of New York City — were given a Bible and a new set of clothes, loaded on rail cars and transported west on the trains to be taken in by families who promised to care for them. It was the beginning of documented foster care in the U.S. And though the program was credited with improving — even saving — the lives of many of the children by giving them a fighting chance, now it’s often seen as a cruel social experiment, a dark chapter in the nation’s past. The Orphan Train Movement and contemporary foster care are talked about in similar terms, “where both programs are broken and both programs need desperate help,” said Shaley George, curator of the National Orphan Train Complex in Concordia, Kansas, which is dedicated to preserving the program’s history. “There can always be improvements,” George said. “But that obviously doesn’t mean that the children within the system are bad or shouldn’t be cared for.” Shaley George, curator of the National Orphan Train Complex, sat inside a restored train car exhibit. Shelly Yang syang@kcstar.com When the children were loaded on the orphan trains, most had no idea what was happening to them. Upon arriving in a town, they were often separated from their siblings, and sometimes those who weren’t chosen at one stop were put back on the train and sent west to the next one. The families who took the children were required to fill out papers saying they’d treat them as though they were their own until they turned 18. “Back then, the communities were great about taking in children,” George said. “And communities unfortunately today can’t find enough foster care homes...I guess that’s what the orphan train did; it was better at putting it in front of your face.” Many of the children ended up in Midwestern states, where they were put to work as laborers and servants, tending crops and livestock. They lost contact with their relatives back East and were told not to think about or speak of their families again. The new parents could “try out” the children for 90 days and send them back if they turned out to be “unsatisfactory.” Some orphan train children became success stories heralded years later — doctors, lawyers, judges and politicians. In 1859, Andrew Burke and John Green Brady were on the same train to Indiana. Burke later became the second governor of North Dakota, and Brady was elected governor of Alaska. One train rider — Henry Lee Jost — became mayor of Kansas City in 1912 and later served in Congress. In his campaign for Congress in 1922, Jost used his orphan train past to his advantage, calling himself “The Orphan Boy Mayor.” It’s true, researchers say, that the vast majority ended up living good lives and getting that family they needed. Yet there were some who, after getting off the orphan train, were severely abused, mistreated or ended up running away. Like Charles Williams, sent to live with a farmer southwest of Holton, Kansas, in 1886. The boy was forced to husk corn from dawn until dusk in frigid winter weather, according to a Jan. 12, 1887, article in The Holton Signal with the headline “Man’s Inhumanity to a Boy.” The boy’s hands and feet were frozen, “in a horrible condition and must have caused the boy intense suffering,” the article said. … “It may be necessary to amputate some of his toes.” Charles was removed from the home and placed at a poor farm until a new home could be found. ONE MAN’S VISION TO HELP KIDS As immigrants flooded into the U.S. in the 1800s, the East Coast cities were bursting at the seams. “They were not prepared for that influx,” said Lori Halfhide, head researcher at the National Orphan Train Complex. “They just didn’t have the resources.” Many families suffered from poverty and illness, and their children ended up homeless and abandoned because their parents had died or couldn’t take care of them. By 1850, there were more than 30 orphanages in New York City. And even with that many facilities, there were still an estimated 10,000 to 30,000 children living on the streets. The Rev. Charles Loring Brace knew there was a problem, Halfhide said. A graduate of Yale University and Union Theological Seminary, he ministered at Blackwell’s Island and Five Points Mission, two of the most crime-ridden areas of New York City. Brace saw first-hand the conditions the children were living in, she said, and vowed to do something about it. In 1853, Brace founded the Children’s Aid Society. Its mission: to educate the children, give them religion and medical care and teach them a trade. Brace had supporters in high places, Halfhide said, including his best friend, Theodore Roosevelt Sr. Other friends were from New York City’s upper crust — the Astors, Carnegies, Vanderbilts and Rockefellers. All became donors to the Children’s Aid Society. Brace and his backers soon decided to try to stem the child welfare crisis by moving the children out of the city and sending them to what they considered safer, rural settings where they could be molded into productive adults. Children who rode the orphan train posed for a photo with the adults who traveled with them to facilitate the adoptions. Anna Laura Hill collection National Orphan Train Complex Under its “placing out” program, the Children’s Aid Society would plot a route and select towns along the route where children could be sent. If town leaders agreed, an agent would visit, arrange for a newspaper article that provided the names of the children who were coming, put up posters around town and reserve the local opera house or other large venue for a meeting when the train arrived. The agent also would organize a “screening committee” of local leaders in towns where the children might be placed. Committee members would then select possible parents for the children. Once everything was in place, the children were loaded on trains under the supervision of at least one agent. “The agents were basically social workers of the time,” George said. In accepting a child, the guardians had to sign a contract agreeing to care for the child. A typical contract for boys contained the following language: “Boys over 16 years of age must be retained as members of the family for one year, after which a mutual arrangement may be made. Parties taking boys agree to write to the Society at least once a year, or to have the boys do so. Removals of boys proving unsatisfactory can be arranged through the Local Committee or an Agent of the society…” The first orphan train was sent by the Children’s Aid Society in September 1854. It went to Dowagiac, Michigan, with 46 children and one agent on board. “Each child had one set of clothes,” Halfhide said. “They went by boat from Manhattan to Albany, by train from Albany to Buffalo, by boat from Buffalo to Detroit, and by train from Detroit to Dowagiac. Forty-six seasick children with one outfit.” After that, she said, the children were sent with two changes of clothes. One to travel in, and “a nice clean one to put on for the placement ceremony.” Yesterday was distribution day for the orphans brought here from New York…It was a scene to touch the heart of those who love their fellow man. There were good looking boys, handsome boys, and smart boys, all waiting for homes…After each and every one had gotten his home there were plenty of good people left who wanted boys to take home and feed, clothe and educate for further usefulness, whereas, had they been left to their fate in the great city of New York, they probably would have gone to the bad. Newspaper article in Bonham, Texas. Nov. 19, 1898 UNLOCKING A FATHER’S MYSTERY Gary Nolan’s dad never talked much about his own childhood. All the son really knew was that Michael Nolan was born in 1910 in New York City but was raised in foster care in Minnesota. So was his older brother, Gary’s uncle Walter. “So as a kid, it was always kind of a mystery to me,” said Gary Nolan, of Aptos, California. “I recall asking him one time, when I was maybe 8, 9 years old, if he ever tried to find his mother. And in a very sharp tone, he responded, ‘Well, she never tried to find me.’ “That made it real clear it was not a safe subject to bring up with my dad.” So for decades, all he knew was that his dad was an orphan. And that something had happened in his childhood he didn’t want to talk about. Whatever it was, could it be the reason for his anger at times? For the harsh way he’d occasionally treat him and his sister? In the early 1990s, when Nolan was visiting his then-82-year-old dad in Hawaii, where his parents had gone to retire, the son began to learn a little more. A member of Michael Nolan’s church had recently encouraged him to start writing his memoirs. “We got to talking, and he handed me a copy of the book, ‘The Orphan Train Rider,’” Nolan said. “And he said, ‘This is my story. I was on that train, too.’” Nolan had never heard of the orphan trains. But the revelation began to unlock some mysteries that surrounded his father’s childhood. “It answered the question that I had as a child — how did my father as a young child get from New York to Minnesota?” Nolan said. “And I was like, ‘Now I finally know.’” Gary Nolan, from Aptos, California, choked up after he read a letter his uncle wrote to the New York Foundling Hospital in 1933. Shelly Yang syang@kcstar.com A few years ago, he wanted to know more. That’s when he learned there wasn’t just one orphan train, like his father thought, but thousands. Nolan put his background as a military intelligence analyst to use and began digging deeper into his father’s and uncle’s records. He learned they had been placed in the New York Foundling Hospital, a Catholic organization that required potential parents to apply through their priests. The parents were allowed to “special order” a child, requesting specific characteristics, such as age, hair color and eye color. When such a child was located, the child was assigned a number and the parents were told to be at the meeting place in their town and look for the child with that number. Nolan’s father and uncle stayed at the Foundling for about six years, then were sent to a foster home in the Bronx. They stayed there for six months before returning to the Foundling. And six months after that, the brothers were loaded onto an orphan train at Grand Central Station, sent west and placed with a childless couple in Maple Lake, Minnesota, a small town northwest of Minneapolis. They arrived on Thanksgiving Day 1916. But after about a year, Nolan found, the local agent for the Foundling Hospital removed the boys from the home upon discovering they’d been subjected to severe physical abuse. Their foster father had used a horse whip on them. So the agent took Michael and Walter Nolan to an orphan’s asylum in St. Paul. After two months, the brothers were “re-indentured” to a family in Osseo, Minnesota, where they spent the remainder of their childhood. Learning about the past has helped Nolan better understand his father’s behavior. “He was very angry,” Nolan said. “He was not an easy man to live with. And I think part of the reason is the trauma that he endured as a child. “That does not forgive his behavior toward me and my sister. But it’s more understandable. … I have to give a lot of credit to my father and mother. They were both orphans. They had no role modeling growing up for how to raise an intact family. But they figured it out.” Michael Nolan died in 1994, so Gary never got to tell his father what he’d discovered. “But I have told him in spirit.” At the end of May, Gary Nolan and his wife traveled to Concordia to attend the Annual Orphan Train Riders Celebration and for the unveiling of a statue honoring his father and uncle. For Nolan, it was good to hear that most of the children who rode the orphan train had positive experiences. “But the other side of the story is my father’s and uncle’s,” he said. “And it’s just as important for that experience to be known.” Gary Nolan, whose father and uncle were both orphan train riders, spoke at the annual descendants reunion at the National Orphan Train Complex. Shelly Yang syang@kcstar.com END OF THE LINE The Orphan Train Movement started losing momentum in the late 1800s, as states began passing laws to restrict or ban the out-of-state placement of children. Michigan was the first to pass regulations in 1887. A 1901 Missouri law restricted orphan trains but was not enforced. Kansas also passed a law that year, giving the State Board of Charities authority to scrutinize all organizations or institutions placing children. With the passage of that legislation, the board immediately ruled that no homeless children could be brought into Kansas without a certificate of good character and a $5,000 security bond. Said then-Gov. William Stanley: “We cannot afford to have the State made a dumping ground for the dependent children of other states, especially New York.” The last orphan train went to Sulphur Springs, Texas, in 1929. By then, the Children’s Aid Society had “placed out” at least 150,000 children. Other organizations combined sent another 100,000. The biggest among those was the Foundling Hospital. All 48 contiguous states received children, said George, the orphan train museum curator. Though referred to as orphans, George said, many of the children were not. The records show about 46 percent were orphans, and 43 percent had one or both living parents. And like children in foster care today, some were placed in multiple homes before turning 18. In the end, the movement led to child welfare reforms and more support to keep families intact. During the last year of his presidency, Theodore Roosevelt convened a child welfare conference at the request of a friend who had lived in an orphanage in Washington, D.C. Called the White House Conference on Dependent Children, the 1909 gathering brought together big names in child welfare. The conference, George said, “was basically the first time they ever said we should not be separating people because of poverty.” “It said they should try to keep families together.” While only a handful of the orphan train riders are alive today, their imprint is everywhere. “We know that there are at least 40 million descendants living today,” George said. “If we look at the largest end of that number, it could be 1 in 6 Americans, which is an astounding number.” The impact of those who were part of the Orphan Train Movement, George said, is enormous. “They built up societies, they built up their own towns, they were farm owners, they owned businesses,” she said. “They are the fabric of America. And those children deserve a place in our history to be remembered. “It really is an American story.” The Orphan Train Museum is housed inside the former Union Pacific Depot in Concordia, Kansas. Shelly Yang syang@kcstar.com THE NATIONAL ORPHAN TRAIN COMPLEX The facility opened in 2007 in Concordia, Kansas. It includes a museum in the town’s old train depot, a learning center and a train car designed to look like those the orphans rode in. The complex houses the records of the Orphan Train Heritage Society of America, a Springdale, Arkansas, organization that originally gathered documents on the movement. Concordia has embraced the complex, branding itself the Orphan Train Town. More than 30 statues have been placed throughout the community to recognize orphan train riders, and visitors come from around the country. To learn more, go to orphantraindepot.org The National Orphan Train Complex in Concordia, Kansas, includes the Orphan Train Museum, the Morgan-Dowell Research Center and a restored train car exhibit. Shelly Yang syang@kcstar.com READ NEXT SPECIAL REPORTS A daughter, a foster care child, an inmate: Crystal Smith’s letter to her mom DECEMBER 15, 2019 5:00 AM This story was originally published December 15, 2019, 5:00 AM. RELATED STORIES FROM KANSAS CITY STAR SPECIAL REPORTS ‘We are sending more foster kids to prison than college’ DECEMBER 15, 2019 5:00 AM SPECIAL REPORTS As U.S. spends billions on foster care, families are pulled apart and forgotten DECEMBER 15, 2019 5:00 AM JUDY L THOMAS 816-234-4334 Judy L. Thomas joined The Star in 1995 and is a member of the investigative team, focusing on watchdog journalism. Over three decades, the Kansas native has covered domestic terrorism, extremist groups and clergy sex abuse. Her stories on Kansas secrecy and religion have been nationally recognized. LAURA BAUER 816-234-4944 Laura Bauer, who came to The Kansas City Star in 2005, focuses on investigative and watchdog journalism. In her 30-year career, Laura has won numerous national awards for coverage of human trafficking, child welfare, crime and government secrecy. Take Us With You Real-time updates and all local stories you want right in the palm of your hand. KANSAS CITY STAR APP SUBSCRIPTIONS Start a Subscription Customer Service eEdition Vacation Hold Pay Your Bill LEARN MORE About Us Contact Us Newsletters Archives Sports Betting Personal Finance Reviews ADVERTISING McClatchy Advertising Place an Ad Place a Classified Ad Place an Obituary Staffing Solutions Political | Advocacy Advertising Part of the McClatchy Media Network COPYRIGHT COMMENTING POLICY PRIVACY POLICY YOUR PRIVACY CHOICES TERMS OF SERVICE X Read more at: https://www.kansascity.com/news/special-reports/article238198944.html#storylink=cpy