Family names, regardless of ethnicity, provide interesting ways to trace the varied paths of our ancestors. This region is loaded with people of Pennsylvania German descent. Just look at any phone book or rural route mailbox. One of the best sources to begin this research is Hans Bahlow’s Dictionary of German Names, translated by Edda Gentry.

Naturally, many of these names centered on agriculture. The American Bower, originally Bauer, was a farmer. A Bauersachs, or Bowersox, was a Saxon farmer. If you owned a small farm, called a Hof or a Hube, you were a Hoffer or a Huber (later Hoover). A Kornmann, changed to Korman and Corman, was a grain dealer. Growers and mowers of hay, or Heu, kept the pronunciation but anglicized the spelling to Hoy. Porrmanns, later Poorman, were vegetable dealers, as were Mösers, or Mussers. Schaeffer may have had a brewery outside Allentown at one time, but their ancestors watched over sheep, as did those of the Schäffers, Schafers, and Shaffers.

Other times, surnames reflected a trade or place of origin. Deckers were roofers. Fiedlers were fiddlers or minstrels from Saxony and Silesia. A Gerberick was a tanner; their descendants became Garvers and Garbricks. A Hohmann was a person of high social standing for one reason or another; over here it was shortened to Homan. Kellers maintained taverns and wine cellars. Kramers and Kauffmanns were merchants. Reams, Reamers, and Remensnyders can all look on a Riehmer (that is, a belt, strap or harness maker) as part of their shared heritage.

Barners, Berners, and Brenners evidently burned anything from wood to ores to houses. Speaking of fire, Smeltzer came from Schmelzer, or one who smelted metal. A tailor was a Schneider or what we now call Snyder. A Scherer, or Sharer, must have been handy with scissors. They usually cut cloth, but Bahlow states that some also branched out into barbering. Tresslers operated lathes. Wagners drove or made wagons.

All languages evolve over the years. One example is the Middle High German term for an official bread or fish inspector, Schouwer. It was shortened to Schauer, although some Shawver descendants seem to have preferred the original pronunciation.

Positions within a family and locations were other means of establishing your place in the cosmos. A Neff was someone’s nephew. If you lived near an Aue, that is, a wet field or river island, you were an Aumann. Another group of people who lived near a marshy creek were called Moerschbachers. Bresslers came from Breslau, and Benfers were natives of Benfe, a town near Cologne. A person from the Ost, or east, was an Ostermann who later changed it to Hosterman. Those who lived near the Ihme River were named Immelmann, which they abbreviated to Immel.

Few surnames in such a relatively small area have as much variation in the spelling as Vonada. Yet all of those Vanadas, Vannattas, Vonedas, von Neidas, and so on came from Neida, a village near Coburg.

Regional dialects are the reason why the German nickname for George became Yerger, Yearick, and Yarger.

Consonant shifts from German to English – “b” to “p” and “d” to “t”, for example – account for some other spellings. Butts was originally Butz, a form of poltergeist, according to Bahlow. Fetscher, meaning reeds or marsh grass, became Fetzer. If your name was Volkmar, you had the nickname Voltz, which eventually turned into Foltz.

Suffixes, such as “-l” or “-li”, indicated the size of something. A Beyerle, now Bierly, was a little farmer. A Sperli, or little sparrow, became Spearly, and Feagley used to be Vögli, or little bird.

Reliable lodging was also important for travelers seeking landmarks and directions in unfamiliar territory. Schreckengast, despite its literally meaning, “frighten the guest”, was a common name for innkeepers. A Werth or Wirt, now Wert, could also be either a landlord or innkeeper. A Badstöber operated a bath house; his descendants later cut the name to Stober or Stover.

Travelers trying to get their bearings could look for either the sign of the fist (Faust or Foust), the rabbit (Haas), the rooster (Hahn), the crab (Krebs), or the horseman (Rossmann) hanging outside the inn. Harters had a hart or stag painted on their signs.

Those named Grove can trace their ancestry back to a Graf, or an official with some form of legal authority. A Widmer, or Witmer, came into some land previously held by a church or monastery. Saint Basilius inspired a Bäsecker, now Besecker, near either Lübeck or Quedlinburg, just as Saint Dionysius was the source for Denis in France and Dinges across the border.

To find out more, stop by the family history booth Sunday at the Grange Fair. This is an excellent place to begin your search and, perhaps, to make some more long-lost connections.

13 August 2006

Bruce Teeple is a free-lance writer, speaker and local historian and is writing a book about Prince Farrington. He lives in Aaronsburg, Centre County and can be reached at mongopawn44@hotmail.com