I fell down the genealogy rabbit hole recently (thank you, Lewis Carroll, for that 100-year-old metaphor) when I came upon a research site called familysearch.org. It’s free, which had a lot to do with my falling down the aforementioned rabbit hole. And there was a really big piece of information down there.
As Carroll’s Cheshire Cat said, “I can’t know everything. Pretend you’re an orphan.”
The problem with Streuli family genealogy is that my father was born on May 25, 1900, in San Francisco. That was five years, 10 months and 24 days before a 7.8 magnitude earthquake came rolling through and the City by the Bay went up in flames, taking all the vital records with it. It’s hard to find your way up the family tree when half of it is used kindling.
But some of California’s old newspapers have been digitized, and they’re searchable. That’s how I know that my grandmother, Mary Isabella Kane, was in business with her husband, Emil, and his brothers. Imagine my delight when I learned that, dating back to 1880 or so, the family owned the Swiss Brewery on Dupont Street (now Grant Avenue) and, right next door, the Swiss Saloon. The brewery was renamed Streuli Brothers Brewery about 1885. “Oh,” you’re thinking. “That explains a lot.” Yes, it does.
An aside: If you collect beer memorabilia and happen to have a little something from that operation, please drop me a line.
And Grandmother was involved, as reported on Page 9 of the April 2, 1899, San Francisco Call: “F.W. Fawcett, a tough-looking citizen, was convicted by Judge Conlan yesterday on the charge of battery and was ordered to appear for sentence to-morrow. Mrs. Mary Streuli, whose husband is proprietor of the Swiss saloon, 432 Dupont street, was standing in front of the saloon Friday night talking to a friend when Fawcett came along in an intoxicated condition. Without any provocation he struck Mrs. Streuli, knocking her down. Policeman Colen happened to see the assault and chased and captured Fawcett.”
Well. That hooligan. It’s a good thing Policeman Colen happened by.
Sadly, Mary’s year did not improve. The July 22, 1899, San Francisco Call reported this sad news: “The will of Emil Streuli, who died in this city June 23, was filed for probate yesterday. Decedent’s estate, which consists of both real and personal property of the value of $10,000, is devised to his widow, Mary Isabella Streuli, and her four children. Mrs. Streuli is named as executrix, to serve without bonds.” The good news was that $10,000 in 1899 is about $280,000 in today’s dollars, so apparently they weren’t living on bread crusts.
Wait a minute. I was an English major and my mathematical skills are suspect, but even I can count to 11. If Emil Streuli died on June 23, 1899 and my father, Theodore, was born on May 25, 1900 – well, let’s just say if Mary Isabella spent a lot of time grieving, then my name ain’t Str … Uh-oh.
Sure enough, a 1900 Census record identified the head of household as one Theodore Burkhardt, who was living with Mary Burkhardt, four stepchildren and an infant son, Theodore Burkhardt Jr.
Holy crap! Not only am I not a Streuli, I’m not even Swiss! Talk about an identity crisis. Do I have to stop rooting for Roger Federer now?
A 1918 draft registration identifies my father as Theodore Streuli, as does the 1920 Census, and Dad never mentioned a Burkhardt. It’s likely he never knew.
No matter. I’m sticking with Streuli. Mr. Burkhardt didn’t have his own brewery and saloon.