Minnesota: Santa Claus, a Corn Cob Pipe, and Nellie Oleson

Have you ever watched a TV show and felt like you were seeing your own family's story unfold on screen? What if I told you that somewhere in your family tree, there might be someone whose life reads like a script from your favorite childhood series. Complete with covered wagons, hand-hewn cabins, and a beard that would make Santa Claus jealous?

That's exactly what happened to my friend and colleague Lisa Elzey when she discovered the remarkable story of her great-great-grandfather, Johann Heinrich Seba. Every Monday night as a child, she'd settle in to watch Little House on the Prairie, never imagining that the pioneer adventures of Charles Ingalls were actually playing out in her own family history, just a few hours north of Walnut Grove.

From Purple Ink to Pioneer Spirit

Lisa's journey into her German immigrant roots began at age eight, sitting at her mother's dining table, filling out a pedigree chart while her mom wrote letters to distant archives and waited for replies in the mail. This was family history in the late 1970s. No instant searches, no digital records, just patience, postage stamps, and hope.

But the real treasure came years later, typed on purple ditto paper with that distinctive smudgy ink. Lisa's great-grandaunt Alice had written a memoir about her father, John Seba, and reading it felt like discovering a lost episode of her favorite TV show.

John Seba arrived in America alone at 18, speaking only German. He worked on a farm in Red Wing, Minnesota, saving to claim his own homestead. When someone beat him to his first choice of land, he traveled back, found another plot, and then spent an entire day hacking through dense Minnesota wilderness with two oxen and a covered wagon, traveling just a mile and a half.

"Think about a mile and a half. That's not that far. A whole day. And so I just can't even imagine how tiring that must have been."

Once settled in what would become Friberg, Minnesota (named after Freiberg, Germany), John became the embodiment of pioneer spirit. He built the first schoolhouse on his property and served as the first schoolmaster. He was postmaster because the main road passed by his homestead. He helped build five bridges, surveyed roads, founded the local Lutheran church, and became so revered in his community that when he died, they lowered the flag to half-staff and declared a school holiday.

And yes, he had a white beard down to his belly, stood over six feet tall, smoked a corncob pipe, and looked exactly like Santa Claus.

The Whole Story

If you haven't heard Lisa's full conversation about her great-great-grandfather John and the decades-long search to discover his German origins, take a moment to listen:

Prefer audio only? Click here to listen on your favorite podcast app.

🎧 Listen to the full episode to discover:

• How a purple-inked memoir opened a window into pioneer Minnesota
• The unexpected family secret hidden in Lutheran christening records
• Why it took four decades to discover where John Seba was really from
• The touching tradition of a steeple clock passed down through four generations of strong German women
• How patience and new technology finally cracked a genealogical brick wall

The Power of One Story

What strikes me most about Lisa's story isn't just the pioneer adventures or even the surprising family secret she uncovered (you'll have to listen for that one). It's how one ancestor's story created a thread connecting four generations of women.

There's Lisa's great-grandmother Amelia, who lost her mother at 15 months old during berry-picking season and grew into a woman who raised three children alone during the Depression. There's Lisa's grandmother, who remembered her grandfather as Santa Claus and cherished the memory of the one fish she caught and cooked for him. There's Lisa's mother, who spent years in the 1980s writing letters to German archives, hand-translating responses, and never giving up. And there's Lisa herself, who watched Little House on the Prairie every Monday night, never knowing she was watching her own family's story.

"We come from a line of strong German women... raising kids in the Depression on her own... divorced at a very young age as well and had to make it... we just come from a lot of women who've had to just get out there and do it."

Your Story

Sometimes the stories that seem the most removed from us - the pioneer tales, the immigrant journeys, the lives lived so differently from our own - turn out to be the most personally transformative when we finally discover them.

Lisa spent years with what genealogists call a "brick wall," but here's the truth she learned: she'd probably only worked on that wall for a handful of hours spread across those decades. Life happened. She finished school, became a young mom, built a career. The brick wall waited patiently.

Then in 2016, new German church records came online. What took her mother hours of letter-writing, international postage, and translation assistance took Lisa four seconds to find. Four seconds to discover not just where John Seba was from, but a family secret that had been hidden for over 150 years.

Story Seeds 🌱

Plant these conversation starters and watch your family stories grow.

1. For Parents/Grandparents: "What TV shows did you watch growing up? Did any of them remind you of stories from our own family history?"
2. For Older Relatives: "When you think about your grandparents, what's the first image that comes to mind? What did they look like? What were they doing?"
3. For Family Historians: "What family possessions have been passed down through the generations? What stories do they tell about the people who owned them?"
4. For Anyone: "If you could go back and witness one day in any ancestor's life, whose would it be and why?"

Story Sparks 🔑

Unlock your family's hidden stories with these research techniques.

1. Look for published family histories. Lisa's breakthrough started with Aunt Alice's typed memoir. Search for your surname in the Ancestry Card Catalog, filtering by "Stories, Memories & Histories." These published works often contain details not found anywhere else.
2. Don't give up on old brick walls. Records are being digitized and indexed every single day. That brick wall you hit 10, 15, or 20 years ago? Try it again. Use the exact same search you tried before. You might be shocked at what appears now.  And, if you want a new methodology to try, make sure you are on my email list so you are notified when the next Brick Wall Busters workshop is scheduled.
3. Search for obituaries in old newspapers. When Lisa's great-great-grandfather died, multiple newspapers covered it because of his standing in the community. These articles often include biographical details, places of origin, and family connections you won't find in vital records.
4. Use church records for immigrant ancestors. Lisa found christening records that not only confirmed John's birthplace but revealed a family secret hidden in the margins. For German, Scandinavian, and many other immigrant groups, church records may be your best source. And many are now digitized on Ancestry.

The steeple clock that John Seba wound every night before settling into his rocking chair with his corncob pipe now sits on Lisa's mother's mantle. Someday it will belong to Lisa, and then to her daughter. Not because it's the most valuable antique in a house full of beautiful things, but because it carries the sound of a German immigrant's nightly ritual. It’s a sound that echoed through four generations of strong women who learned to "just get out there and do it."

Your family has stories just as powerful, just as cinematic, just as worth preserving. They might be hiding in purple-inked memoirs, waiting in newly digitized records, or living in the memories of relatives who are just waiting for someone to ask.

Ready to discover more stories like John Seba's? Subscribe to Stories That Live In Us wherever you get your podcasts. And if this episode touched your heart, please leave us a rating and review—it helps other family story seekers find us, and it means the world to Lisa and me.

© 2025 Crista Cowan. All rights reserved.