Researching my family history is one guilty pleasure I indulge frequently. Interesting stories of all manner exist, awaiting discovery in online archives. My research experience with Elizabeth Goodwin opened a Pandora’s Box of possibilities and cultural firsts. The historical lens focuses on a simpler time, albeit the lives lived are just as complicated as our own. My family never considered Elizabeth and Gertrude complex, their lives as mundane as their own. However, just under the surface of normalcy, were two people in love, raising a family, with all the joys and tragedies of life we all share in common.
Elizabeth Goodwin arrived at the family farm in Royal Oak, MI, May 1, 1885. The only daughter of Samuel and Ann Goodwin, she was raised in the typical manner of a middle class family, educated in local Birmingham Schools, developing a skilled hand at needlework; I still have some of her handmade lace. When she was 11, her mother gave birth to the youngest son Frank, 1894. According to a letter Elizabeth wrote later in life to Frank’s wife, she described their early and close relationship thusly;
“Frank has a place in my heart that others did not, because I was eleven years old when he was born, and for years after his birth my mother was an invalid and the care of the baby fell to my lot in a very real way.”
Elizabeth’s father Samuel died in 1902, the family farm was sold in 1904, and her eldest brother Paul Whitney died in 1905. Elizabeth managed to graduate from Albion College in 1909, but there her life appears to stall.
January 1913 Elizabeth joins the Chicago Evangelist Institute, as a student volunteer missionary, graduating in June 1916 as a Deaconess. Her older brother Levi, himself a Methodist minister in Iowa, undoubtedly influenced this choice for formal education and training, elevating Elizabeth to be a self-sufficient woman. An open house invitation from the Chicago Training Institute still survives in the Leather Satchel archive.
August 1916 Elizabeth began working in Buffalo, NY for Traveler’s Aid connected to the National Traveler’s Aid Society. It was here that she would meet her partner, Gertrude “Whittier” Whitney. And this is where Elizabeth’s adventures began; Frank was out of high school now and working at the local grocery story with his brother. Fred’s wife was at home caring for the matriarch Ann; Elizabeth’s only responsibilities were to herself.
The first grandchild arrived in May 1917, Levi’s daughter, Isabel. Her mother saved all the congratulatory letters from relatives, and among these treasures, Elizabeth writes congratulations to her brother Levi. In this letter Elizabeth tells Levi of her love for Whittier and her concerns over her health.
After the armistice, Elizabeth and Gertrude made their way back to Buffalo, now fully accredited social workers, the pair worked as Field Agents for the Children’s Aid Society of NY State. This work was in a large Polish section of the city. The 1920 census finds them sharing a house in Albany, Gertrude listed as head of household and Eliza as a lodger, on Elmwood Avenue.
An opportunity arose in 1921 for warmer climates, and with Gertrude’s health being a constant worry, they couple relocated to Nashville, TN. They became detectives for the Women’s Protective Bureau for the City under the Civil Service. Local lore has portrayed this early social work in current periodicals in a problematic light, stating the Bureau of Women’s Protection was created, “in order to stamp out “illicit” and “overt” public displays of affection among young people.”
This was simply not the case. Reading a long lost article from the Leather Satchel archive, the term sex-trafficking sets the tone of the opening sentence, describing the ground breaking work of these women. The article was printed in 1922. It tells of more than one lost young lady coming to the city seeking a better life, and we all know how that story unfolds. Elizabeth and Gertrude helped those lost, unfortunate young women navigate their way back to their lives and families. The actions of this ground-breaking team made jail a last resort as a place for these girls, with better options available. However, the local media produced stories misrepresenting their actual work with salacious, small minded thought, making me question the ethics of other stories with more impact.
Without argument, Nashville’s first women police detectives were Elizabeth and Gertrude. No matter their relationship, this couple worked for the city from 1921 to 1932, when the program funding from the government ended. Both women were armed, for the work they were doing was not in the proper places of genteel entertainment.
One of the treasured articles from the Leather Satchel archive discusses a letter received from two girls, neither over fifteen yrs. of age, who came to Nashville and were subsequently rescued by the WPB. Compassion was their currency and a lacking commodity in the lives of the women they helped.
The couple returned to Michigan in 1923 for brother Fred’s wedding to his second wife Hazel. A particular gift given was a tablecloth of lace, handmade by Elizabeth. They stopped briefly in Red Oak, returning again in 1924 for the wedding of youngest brother Frank to Fern.
The next year, 1925, they adopted the first of their two sons, Paul Whitney, the following year came his brother Danny Lee. This was their family, and they were members of the fabric of life in Nashville. Lauded for achievements, members of local writing clubs, and library sponsors. Their charming, young sons, infectiously good natured, attended the local grade school.
Constant health issues plagued Gertrude through her life. The family moved permanently to Dallas in 1937, the dry, warm climate bringing temporary benefit to her.
Gertrude and Elizabeth lived quiet lives in Texas until 1943 when Gertrude fell at home, hitting her head and the injury sustained contributed to her death. Elizabeth died in 1986. Living a life full of contradictions, her legacy remains hidden, until now.
A copy of Elizabeth’s letter to Frank’s wife Fern at the occasion of Frank’s death, talks briefly of the family genealogy.
“I have already recorded his death in my copy of the Goodwin genealogy (Levi also had a copy) and I expect his family will record Frank’s death as they probably did with Levi’s, but when we are all gone, what difference will it make?”
I can answer dear Elizabeth that it truly did matter. Your story will not be lost in the cacophony of time; your achievements for sex and gender, while strife ridden and imperfect, did not define your life; you did not lose your vision of a better society for your fellow human being, reaching your hand to help without hesitation. That is a legacy worthy of note. The central point to LGBTQ History is defined as before or after Stonewall, but many events remain unwritten, Elizabeth and Gertrude, just one couple. It is our responsibility as their descendants to make sure these stories continue to inspire, a legacy to the next generation.
Thank you for reading and cheering on my genealogy adventures. If you enjoyed reading about Elizabeth and Frank, I have not stayed idle; the family secret, kept through these lives, will be teased out in the coming weeks; watch for my next hunt when I follow a murderer through the archives. Sign up for notifications, as I have special treats for you.
Cheers!
MJ