On the Birth of Emma Estelle Pooler

Photo from Dana Pierce, Lineage of the Thibodeau, Mothee-Thibodeau, Mutty family : the ancestry, events, and accomplishments of the Mutty family, 1985.

My maternal great-grandmother, Emma Estelle Pooler, was born on July 18, 1862, in Bucksport, Maine. This photograph comes from a lineage booklet compiled by Dana Pierce, my first cousin once removed.

Estelle, as she was known, was the first surviving child of Charles Benoni Pooler and Ursula “Susie” Poulin. Her parents came to Maine from Québec as children during the wave of French Canadian migration that transformed many New England communities in the 1800s. Historian David Vermette describes how Franco-American families built communities around their language, faith, and parish life throughout New England. The Poolers’ story reflects that larger history.

Charles and Susie married in Bangor in 1859 and began their married life in the home of Susie’s family. Charles was twenty-five years old and Susie just fifteen. Although they married four years before Estelle’s birth, no earlier children have been identified. By the time of the 1900 U.S. Census, Susie reported that she had given birth to thirteen children, only six of whom survived to adulthood. We have so few records that reveal women’s lives, yet this single census entry speaks to the realities of motherhood in the nineteenth century.

Estelle married John Baptist Mutty in Bangor on November 29, 1883. Census records show that the young couple lived within a block of Charles and Susie while they remained in Maine. Estelle gave birth to six children. Her fifth child, Clarence Paul, died of convulsions at just twenty days old. Her youngest child, my grandfather Lawrence, would die unexpectedly at the age of thirty-six.

As I learn more about Estelle’s family, I become curious in the role the Catholic Church played in the lives of French Canadian immigrants. During Estelle’s childhood, Bangor’s Catholic community grew rapidly despite widespread anti-Catholic prejudice. The city’s first Catholic parish soon outgrew its original church, and in 1855 Father John Bapst, S.J., laid the cornerstone for St. John’s Church. Only a year earlier, Father Bapst had survived being tarred and feathered in Ellsworth after defending the rights of Catholic students in Maine’s public schools.

I was surprised to discover that this same Father John Bapst officiated at Charles and Susie’s wedding in 1859. More than fifty years later, when Charles died in 1909, his funeral was held at St. John’s Church before his burial in Mount Pleasant Cemetery, Bangor’s Catholic cemetery. Another notable priest connected to my family was Reverend E. McSweeney, who officiated at Estelle and John B.’s wedding in 1883.

For readers interested in learning more about the history of Franco-Americans in New England, including the history of anti-Catholic sentiment, I highly recommend David Vermette’s A Distinct Alien Race: The Untold Story of Franco-Americans (Baraka Books, 2021).

Around 1905, John B. followed his brothers to the Boston area, where they had established themselves in manufacturing. Although John B., Estelle, and their children left Bangor, they maintained ties to both family and the Catholic Church. According to her obituary, Estelle was an active member of the Melrose Catholic Women’s Club and St. Mary’s Ladies Sodality. The church that had shaped her childhood in Bangor, Maine continued to play a role in her life in Melrose, Massachusetts.

Another constant remained: generations of women continued to support one another. Susie and Estelle began their married lives near their own mothers in Bangor. In Massachusetts, Estelle’s eldest daughter, Marie, lived next door after she married. As a widow, Estelle made her home with Marie and then with her younger daughter Frances.

Estelle died in Concord, Massachusetts, on October 9, 1951, at the age of 89. She is buried in Bangor, Maine alongside her husband, her infant son, and nearby her parents and siblings in Mount Pleasant Cemetery.

To my mother’s father’s mother–because you endured, I am here. I did not know your voice, your dreams, or your fears, yet I know that you lived.

On the Birth of John Baptist Mutty

Photo from Dana Pierce, Lineage of the Thibodeau, Mothee-Thibodeau, Mutty family : the ancestry, events, and accomplishments of the Mutty family, 1985.

My maternal great-grandfather, John Baptist Mutty, was born on March 31, 1861 in South Brewer, Maine. This photograph comes from a lineage booklet compiled by Dana Pierce, my first cousin once removed. Known as John B., my great-grandfather was the eldest of twelve children in a French Canadian family rooted in both Québec and Maine.

John B.’s father, John Thibodeau Mutty, was born in Maine to Québécois parents, and his mother, Mary Selena Boulette, emigrated from Québec around the time of her marriage in 1860. Like many French Canadian families in the mid-19th century, they crossed the border in search of steady work. From 1850 to 1930 one million Québécois migrated to the United States. Thousands of Québécois migrants settled in Maine’s river towns, where the lumber industry was booming.

The Mutty family’s livelihood was closely tied to that world. In the 1850 Census, John B.’s father is listed as a millworker; by 1870, he was working as a saw filer—a skilled position responsible for maintaining the large circular saws that powered the mills. In 1866, he was granted a U.S. patent for an improvement in feed rollers to circular saws (Patent No. 52,188).

US Patent: 52,188. Improvement in feed-rollers to circular saws. John Thibodeau Mutty

The spirit of hard work and invention influenced the next generation. In the 1880 Census, nineteen-year-old John B. is listed as a sawmill worker. In 1883, John B. married Estelle Pooler in Bangor, and together they had six children. My grandfather, Lawrence, was the youngest. The family’s work trajectory did not remain tied to the lumber industry. According to Dana’s detailed lineage, John B. shifted to the burgeoning shoe industry when he had young children.

In 1917, John B.’s brother Victor invited him and their brother Louis to join him in Boston, where he had established a successful manufacturing business producing rubberized canvas for automobiles and fabric for player pianos. Thus, several members of the Mutty family settled in Melrose, Massachusetts.

And yet, Maine remained home in a deeper sense. In his lineage booklet, Dana Pierce recalls attending “Grandpa” Mutty’s wake, and then, on the day of the funeral, walking to the railroad tracks near St. Mary’s Grammar School to watch the Bangor Express pass by:

“to pay my last respects as ‘Grandpa’ sped by—and perhaps to wave to my grieving mother who was aboard the train with other members of the family.”

John B. died in Melrose, Massachusetts, on May 26, 1936, at the age of 75. He is buried in Bangor, Maine.

To my mother’s father’s father–because you endured, I am here. I did not know your voice, your dreams, or your fears, yet I know that you lived.

Learning about Champlain

A book, audiobook, and laptop on a table.

I grew up in Massachusetts. As a child, my understanding of history was Massachusetts-centric. The Pilgrims. The Salem Witch Trials. The Boston Tea Party. The Battles of Lexington and Concord. I had one World History class in high school. I retained little beyond Martin Luther’s 95 Theses, posted in 1517.

My understanding of the world broadened in adulthood, yet those early themes of migration, injustice, and revolution still shape my interest in history.

All my ancestors arrived in the United States from Europe or Canada between 1840 and 1890. The Canadian side came from Quebec to Maine; the Québécois branch had originally migrated from France in the 1600s. During recent travels to Prince Edward Island and Nova Scotia, I learned about the French explorers and settlers who shaped that region.

A visit to Port-Royal National Historical Site sparked a renewed interest in Samuel de Champlain. Years ago, I had purchased this book at a used bookstore in Brattleboro, VT:

Fischer, David Hackett (2008). Champlain’s Dream: the European Founding of North America. New York: Simon & Schuster. ISBN 9781416593324.

At over 800 pages, the book overwhelmed me, and I put it aside. After visiting Port-Royal, I borrowed the abridged audiobook version from my local library. The storytelling quality was the charm. I listened while driving—my attention drifted at times—but the narrative rekindled my interest in returning to the full book.

Since listening to the audiobook, I’ve watched several videos featuring Fischer discussing his research methods and findings. All three modes—visiting the site, listening to the audiobook, and watching the author speak—are helping me digest the dense history of Champlain’s journeys and the early French settlements of Nova Scotia and Quebec.

I plan to return to the book and give myself time to absorb its deeper descriptions of the period.