Suicide and my ancestors

Sharing my family story

When we research our families, we are bound to uncover some sad or even difficult stories. What you choose to reveal is up to you. For me, it's all part of the lives of my ancestors.

Today’s post is about suicide in my family. My question has been, Is suicide a risk factor for descendants? According to the National Library of Medicine, "a family history of suicide increases suicide risk for people with or without a psychiatric history."

According to Mount Sinai, “The largest genetic study of suicide attempts to date, researchers have identified a region of the genome on Chromosome 7 containing DNA variations that increase the risk that a person will attempt suicide.” This study was dated November 2021. For those of us with ancestors who have committed suicide, it’s important that we are aware of it.

I never knew that any of my relatives committed suicide. It was not a secret since it was documented in the newspaper, but never discussed at home.

Peter Haag and Dugan in front of his home

 My maternal great-grandfather, Peter Haag, was the fourth of eight children born in 1847 in Evansville, Indiana, to George and Catharina Burk Haag. After his first wife died, Peter married Maria Magdalene Dewig in 1874. They moved into her family home, where they raised their children. The house built by Maria's grandfather, Claudius Dewig, in the 1860s, still stands.

Peter was a prominent farmer owning and farming a large chunk of property on the Southeast part of the city. In 1909, he sold 48 acres of his land to Joseph W. Wibler, who created a subdivision called Villa Sites. According to the Evansville Courier and Press, in June 1909, nearly five hundred lots were being developed for this site. The history of Villa Sites, and those living there is a story. Grandma told me how unhappy her father, Peter, was because of how the land was used, not how he intended it. But again, that's another story.

In August 1915, he ran an ad renting out a 57-acre farm. I've yet to determine if that was the entire farm he had left or just a portion. Later that year, at 65, he fell from a ladder and fractured his leg.

Evansville Courier and Press, 1915

In 1927, he retired, was ill, and had business problems. After spending the day with his son Edward and his grandchildren, he went into town and bought a revolver. On returning home, with his son Henry in the other room, he “fired a shot into his brain.”

Evansville Courier and Press, 14 April 1927

 In Mom's diary, she wrote on April 13, 1933, "Today's six years since grandpa died." She was just 10 years old when he died. Because he lived next door, I'm sure he was a big part of her life.

On a side note, Edward, the son he visited with his grandchildren before he left to purchase the gun, died in the Evansville State Hospital. Whether his father's death had any bearing on his stay at that institution, I've yet to find any evidence. His obit stated that he died after a long illness with the death certificate showing he was in the hospital for five years.

However, great-grandpa’s suicide might have made the decision of his daughter, Lucy Haag Macke easier to end her life. My grandmother, Lillian Haag Schatz, and her sister, Lucy, were close. She is always smiling in all the pictures. This was taken early on in front of their home.

Lillian and Lucy

Lucy married a widower, Henry Nicholas Macke, in 1906 and raised his young son. Four years later, they had their only child, Margaret Macke Hillenbrand. I have several pictures of Lucy with Grandma and Mom, so she was a big part of Grandma's and Mom's life. Lucy gave Mom a diary when she was in high school. However, I never heard of her.

Henry, a carpenter by trade, died of a heart attack in 1942 at 65.   Just a year later, Lucy was dead. She was found in her home by her son-in-law, Albert Hillenbrand. She had committed suicide by hanging. According to the newspaper, she had been in ill health. She was 56.

Here she is with that big, beautiful smile with Grandma, Mom, and her daughter Margaret.

Lucy and Grandma in front. Mom and Margaret in the back.

I really would have liked to know more about Aunt Lucy. I’m amazed that Grandma and Mom never mentioned her. My grandma was two years older than Lucy. I had the opportunity to know my grandma; Lucy I never met.

Lastly, I’m not really sure about my brother. He was suffering from Hairy Cell Leukemia for five years. Back in the late 1980s, it was a rare disease. One of the few treatment centers in the US was luckily just an hour away from him in Indianapolis. He struggled with this disease, finding that the medication available back then made him even sicker. He told me on the phone that if the pain got too hard for him to bear he would take his life. He had lots of guns so I knew that would be the way he would choose to leave. He also asked me questions about a house I had just purchased with my partner. He was checking off the list of things, just like Dad did before he died. John asked if I paid full asking price. (No) And other details he wanted to know to make sure I made a good decision. It was his way of taking care of his little sister. He told me he probably wouldn’t be able to make the 2.5 hour trip to see our house, at least not for a while, because of his illness. I never thought that would be our last call.

John Heines, 1970s

On June 21, 1990 at the age of 46, he was found in his small country cottage that he built. The coroner estimated that he had been dead for a week. They did not allow me to see his body due to the condition. In the refrigerator we found a large supply of Interferon. I spoke with his doctor at IU Med Center to tell him John had died, asking him why. He informed me that John was stable and there was no indication that he was dying. The death certificate lists his death as Hairy Cell Leukemia.

If suicide is inherited, I don’t have to worry about any descendants taking their lives since there are none. The reason my family took their lives was due to illness. I wish they wouldn’t have, but I do understand.