Mary Hochadel searches for connections.
Her hunt for roots began in 1986 after her mother died. Five years later, she lost her husband, Chuck. She wrote and published a book documenting Chuck’s experience as a pilot shot down behind enemy lines during World War II. She found the French chateau he lived in for three months and she found the daughter of the chateau’s owner.
She found the path of her own history, too, tracing it back to her ancestral grandfather who supplied food for soldiers and served in the military during the American Revolution.
In the 17 years she’s been a widow, the pastime has become a passion — one that finds Hochadel, now 79, planted in front of her home computer, eagerly on the hunt for other descendants of revolutionaries.
Hochadel, a retired real estate agent, is regent of the local chapter of the Daughters of the American Revolution, a 118-year old society founded to promote history, education and patriotism. Society members visit veterans and award scholarships to local high school students to reward community service. Their money comes from membership dues and an annual DAR garage sale.
The society’s membership peaked at 200,000 during the country’s bicentennial in 1976. It slowly and steadily sank to its current 165,000, all but forgotten by younger generations whose eyes were on the future, not the past. The majority of active DAR members are more than 65 years old — 12 members in the St. Petersburg chapter are over 90 — raising concerns that one of the nation’s longest-running organizations is dying out.
But with the rising popularity of genealogy and with the broad accessibility of the Internet, the past two years have seen an uptick in participation. Baby boomers are becoming retirees, and some DAR members, like Hochadel, think the yearning for history grows stronger with age.
“Maybe it’s spiritual for me,” Hochadel says. “I feel the connections to the generations. You start to feel like you know these people; you feel close to them. It’s terrible to lose that.”
Hochadel is one of 39 members of St. Petersburg’s Princess Hirrihigua DAR chapter, named after the daughter of an American Indian chieftain. As its regent, she organizes meetings at the library the second Saturday of every month and also judges scholarship applications. She carefully maintains the chapter’s scrapbook, with clippings dating back to the early 1900s, and brings it with her to chapter events.
Most days, you can find her in the house along Smacks Bayou, where she’s lived for the last 30 years. She keeps a tomato garden out back. She makes jam from the fig tree in her front yard and sends get-well cards to veterans.
She spends most of her time, however, surfing the Internet in her office, where the rooms are filled with antique furniture and the walls are covered with photographs of her husband, her children and her stepchildren.
Hochadel’s story is typical of many women who find their way to the DAR. Pat Strait, the chapter’s treasurer and registrar, says most members join after losing a family member or after their children are grown.
Strait, 73, joined after her mother died. Her mother had always expressed an interest in joining, she says, but never had the time to complete all the necessary research proving the Revolution roots that would qualify her for DAR membership. Her mother’s unfulfilled dream motivated Strait to complete the work for her.
“I kept finding these letters after Mom died,” she says. “All these pictures I had never seen before. I thought, ‘Well, Mama, let’s see what I can do.’ I thought, ‘Oh, she’d be so proud. She’d be so happy to know these people.’ ”
Strait has connected with seven generations of family members, back to her great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather, who served as a captain in the Revolution. She also volunteers at the library to help other DAR applicants find their pasts online.
But even as the Internet is making it easier for women to trace their roots, the DAR is making it harder for them to join. Where oral traditions were sufficient in the past, photographs of gravestones or copies of military records are now required. Two-page applications have stretched into 30-page files that include extensive supporting documents, Strait says.
All DAR prospective members must prove — through documents ranging from wills, birth and death records to family Bibles — direct lineage to someone who aided in the nation’s quest for independence.
Susan Armstrong, 47, is one of the chapter’s youngest members. She joined in 2002 with the help of her mother, Rose, who was already a confirmed Daughter. Rose turns 81 this summer and is having health problems, says Armstrong, who originally joined the society to spend more time with her mother.
Armstrong, the mother of two grown sons and 13-month-old twins, says she doesn’t have time to devote to the organization since the twins were born. She went from being the chapter’s treasurer to attending just one meeting a year.
She doesn’t want to go off the records and stop being a member, though. She still pays the chapter’s $55 annual membership fee and says she will continue to support the society. She wants to contribute to an organization that cares about its community and supports its children. She eventually hopes to find her way back to the group, discovering more about her own past and extending the society’s future.
“I’ll settle down again at some point,” she says. “Maybe once the kids are grown.”
Hochadel’s daughter, 59, joined her chapter, too, but she’s spending the summer in North Carolina with her family. And Strait says she wishes her daughter would join. But so far the younger woman, 51, isn’t interested. Strait’s take: She’s not old enough yet.