Four-year-old Susan happily played with her older sister and brothers on the deck of the S.S. Teutonia as the steady waves of the North Atlantic Ocean lulled newborn Abraham to sleep. It was late August of 1874 when the Jacob and Susanna Block family embarked on this journey to begin a new life in a new land known as the United States of America.

Jacob and Susanna were born in South Russia in 1838; Jacob, on December 24th in the village of Landeskronne, and Susanna W. Toews, on April 21st at Fuerstenau. The couple married on October 25, 1863, then welcomed 8 sons and 4 daughters to their family over the next 20-some years.

Along with a group of 184 German Mennonite families (967 people), the Block family came from a Mennonite settlement, the Molotschna Colony in what is now Ukraine. They traveled by train to Halbstadt (now in Czechia), then to Hamburg, Germany. Their destination promised freedom for these pacifist immigrants. The Russian government was preparing to revoke religious freedoms once granted to Mennonites, which prompted a mass migration of families. A total of 1,600 Mennonites arrived in Topeka during September of 1874. Mennonites were known to be good citizens who believed in the dignity of hard work and had a strong faith in God; they were a frugal, honest, and cooperative people.

Somewhere between their home and Hamburg, little Abraham Block was born on the 3rd of August. The growing family boarded the steamship at Hamburg, bound for New York City, but when it docked on September 3rd, their journey was not yet over. Many of these families headed westward by train across wooded hills, great rivers, and vast prairies to Topeka, Kansas. I can almost hear the clickity-clack of the massive locomotive on the tracks of the Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe Railroad. Can’t you?

In Topeka, an unoccupied building (The King Bridge Shops) became their temporary home while they stocked up on horses, wagons, and necessities before heading to Marion County. Most of these families brought only clothes and a few household items in a trunk. When they arrived in Goessel, they lived in communal housing while they built a shelter on land they bought for $2 an acre. After such a long journey, I’m sure the Block family was glad to be home, yet everything was so new here.

These immigrant Mennonites were referred to as Russians, but were actually Germans in both language and lineage. They spoke Low German in their homes, but eventually learned to communicate with storekeepers and neighbors who spoke only English. With each generation, the native tongue slipped away as English became their spoken language. Yet, even today, a distinctive accent or phrase reminds us of a distant past and a determined people who built their lives on the flatlands of Kansas.

Jacob initially purchased an 80-acre plot, then later another 160 acres. These immigrant farmers introduced Turkey Red Wheat to the area, using seeds from their homeland. Surely this hardy crop would produce equally well in their new surroundings. And, it did.

As the Block farm grew, so did the family. They arrived in Kansas with six children from newborn to thirteen years old – two girls (Anna and Susan) and four boys (Isaac, John, Jacob, and Abraham). Three of their Russian-born children died in infancy (Johann, Gertrude, and another Abraham). Their youngest three – Heinrich, Peter, and Helena – were born in Kansas. The family of eleven lived in a modest, 300-square-foot home not far from Goessel. According to the 1880 census, the Block family included Jacob (43), Susanah (42), Anna (19), Isaac (17), John (14), Jacob (12), Susan (10), Abraham (5), Henry (3), Peter (?), and Helena (?).

            (Left, 1885)                  Marion County Atlas          Menno Township          (Right, 1902)

 

Early Kansas settlers planted large gardens and kept cows and chickens to provide food for their families. I don’t know what was planted on the Block farmstead, but – thanks to oral family history – I’m convinced there were watermelons in that garden. Evidently, Jacob never tasted watermelon before his arrival in this new land, but this transplanted German farmer learned to love this juicy fruit so much that he concocted his own watermelon syrup. Was it used for pancakes or ice cream? I don’t know, but I sure wish I had a copy of his recipe.

The Blocks and their Mennonite neighbors worshipped together at Alexanderwohl Church, not far from the Block homestead. By 1876, their membership was officially transferred from Russia’s Margenau Church, where Jakob was baptized twenty years earlier. Today, more than a century later, descendants of those who arrived on the S.S. Teutonia continue to worship in this beautiful sanctuary.

The Block children had lots to explore in their new land once the daily chores were done. No doubt, they watched wildlife, climbed trees, and listened to birds sing along the creek south of their home. A wide spot in that creek – known as Block Creek – became a summertime swimming hole, perfectly suited for family relaxation after the long, hot days of summer.

Pioneer life was hard. The Kansas sun was brutal, and the harsh winds of winter blew as temperatures plummeted. Transportation within the community was limited to riding horseback or in horse-drawn wagons. Tilling the land was back-breaking work. Harvesting crops was hard. These newcomers farmed amidst skunks, grasshoppers, and other critters in an area where tornadoes also posed a real threat.

Despite their harsh and humble beginnings, life was good for the Block family. Unfortunately, Susanna succumbed to the hard life on the Kansas prairie and died much too young on January 31, 1885. She was in her mid-50s with children aged 2 to 24.

On March 2nd of that same year, Jacob became an American citizen in Marion County. Jacob continued to live and farm near Goessel for nearly thirty years, then retired in 1914 to nearby Hillsboro. His membership was transferred at that time to the local Mennonite Church.

Jacob died in 1916 at the age of 79 years, the grandfather of 35 and great-grandfather of four. Three sons and two daughters preceded him in death. The patriarch suffered from dropsy according to his obituary, which reads, “death forever relieved him from it (dropsy) when he was called home to his Lord in whom he completely put his trust during his suffering.”

~ ~ ~ ~

My husband and I are relative newcomers to Hillsboro, having moved here after we retired, but his roots run deep in this area. You see, Jim is a Block descendant. Little Susan, who played on the deck as a four-year-old, is Jim’s great-grandmother.

There are many stories I could tell of the Block family, but curiosity demands I begin by solving a mystery. It’s been 140 years since Susanna died, and 109 years since Jacob died, yet no one seems to know where they are buried. I’m passionate about generational storytelling, so I had to know where Jim’s second great-grandparents were buried. There are no tombstones. There is no record to be found. No sacred place exists where the family gathers to remember the impact and influence of this ancestral couple. How could it be? In a family with oral stories of swimming holes and watermelon syrup, why is there no mention of the burial site for Jacob and Susanna?

Thankfully, I mentioned the mystery to someone who introduced Jim and me to Brian Stucky, a local historian. Stucky is known for pinpointing historic trails, building sites, unmarked graves, and other traces of lost civilization in this area of Kansas. In his work, Stucky combines the ancient art of dowsing with modern technology and research. Interestingly, geophysicists agree that the magnetic properties of undisturbed soil are different than soil disrupted by mankind, wagon wheels, and such. Stucky’s work relies on that fact. Could he help us solve the century-old mystery of the lost graves of Jacob and Susanna? Possibly. He offered to do so, and we were elated.

Stucky suggested we start at the Block homestead since Susanna died before Alexanderwohl had a cemetery, and early settlers often buried loved ones on their own land. Jim and I knew the approximate location, but Stucky referred to old maps for the exact location.

On March 17, 2024, Jim and I met Stucky and one of the landowners in Menno Township. A small creek meanders through the trees at this spot, just ten miles Southwest of where Jim and I live. We drove through trees to the edge of a gently rolling wheat field. The green wheat stretched up toward the sunshine, awaiting the nourishment of gentle rains before summer’s harvest. Was this Turkey Red Wheat? Possibly.

Amongst the trees, a healthy crop of iris peeked through the carpet of leaves. Were they planted by the Block family decades earlier? It’s very likely. What a peaceful and pleasant setting this is.

This plot of land has been farmed for decades, and no trace of a homestead exists; however, the landowner remembers the abandoned Block homestead from her childhood and she was as eager as we were to see what Stucky would discover.

The sunshine was misleading that day. A gusty breeze sent shivers up our spines as we watched the skillful master gather his tools and do what he does so well. Stucky gripped an L-shaped piece of copper pipe at an upward angle, exerting just enough tension to keep natural gravity in check. He walked and waited for the unmistakable magnetic pull. Held steady in his hand, the rod dropped whenever Stucky neared an area of disrupted earth. He stopped in his tracks, leaned over, and placed a survey flag in the ground before taking another step. Within moments, the gravitational pull returned, and another flag was set.

   

Soon, the flags told the hidden story of structures that once stood on this land. A well-worn path of wagon wheels was visible along with footprints of various buildings. The water well was found. Then, near the privacy of the trees, Stucky found evidence of a two-hole outhouse. The most exciting discovery was evidence of two hand-dug graves, side by side, just north of the house.

Jim and I stood in silence that day, equally fascinated and overwhelmed to be standing on hallowed ancestral land, and witnessing the re-awakening of a century-old homestead.

This is where Jim’s second great-grandpa planted and harvested red wheat from Russia. It’s where Susanna nurtured and taught their children to love one another. Jim’s great-grandmother, Susan (Block) Wiens, spent her childhood here playing with her brothers and sisters.

I can almost see them running up the hillside together, where they could see for miles in any direction. Did they race back home just in time for supper as the sun was setting?

This is where the Block family built their life together; where they lived and died. And it’s where Jacob and Susanna were buried – side by side.

Stucky’s work didn’t stop in that wheat field on that day. He documented his findings. This was the first such documentation of the graves of Jacob and Susanna. No longer is there a mystery surrounding their final resting place.

The wind was indeed brisk in the wheat field on that day, but perhaps, just perhaps, our shivers were due to what we experienced more so than the Kansas wind.

Thank you, Mr. Stucky. We are forever indebted.

[NOTES: Stucky’s findings of the gravesites (2’8″x7’7″ and 3’2″x6’9″) are now recorded with GPS coordinates  (N 38* 16′ 07.2″  and W 97* 16′ 48.4″) in the Goessel Area Rural Graves booklet at the Goessel Museum.

Stucky also recorded the location of a wagon trail through the trees, garage/shed (9’4″ x 12’8″), home (16’7″ x 18’5″), well, and outhouse. Stucky suspects a barn and other outbuildings might be found further to the West of what he discovered that day.]