Lineage

My great-grandfather, Otto August Kutschke, immigrated to the United States from the Lutheran communes of West Prussia, a region shaped by centuries of resistance to cultural assimilation. His ancestors lived in villages throughout the Putzig District, where Slavic folk traditions endured despite Prussian rule and relentless pressure to Germanize.

These families—often listed as villagers or farm owners—preserved a distinct Kashubian-Slavic identity rooted in communal life. One family story, passed down through the Opor branch, recalls a traditional, folk-coded lifestyle in Lissau, remembered as a haven for those who refused to conform to imposed religious and cultural norms.

Though some may have called them peasants, their titles and marriage alliances tell a more complex story. Martin Opor, my 4th great-grandfather, served as a civil register and was employed by the Kaiser’s government—a role that places him within the Junker class of Prussian nobility, the educated landholders and civil servants who held status in rural society.

From this line, I carry traces of South Central Asian, Altaic, and even African DNA—an anomaly for someone of my documented pedigree, and a true testament to the cultural blending honored in these unique, resilient communes.

This branch of my tree descends from the Catholic families of Prussia and the German Empire, including the Wennesheimer, Fuchshofen, Weber, and Strack lines that lead to my great grandmother, Ella Louise Wennesheimer, Otto Kutschke's wife. After he passed in 1945 she obtained a liquor license to keep Kutska's Tavern running. Talk about girl power!

Phillip Wennesheimer immigrated to Canada, where he married an upper-class English immigrant, signaling a blend of continental Catholic roots with British colonial society. The Fuchshofen family were Christian musicians by trade, passing down a legacy of creativity, devotion, and cultural resilience.

This branch of my ancestry descends from the noblesse and skilled artisans of New France, where legacy was preserved through both title and trade. Among my most distinguished ancestors is François Cottu de la Valtrie, a nobleman whose first marriage to Jeanne Verdon produced only one daughter with descendants—Louise Cottu de la Valtrie, from whom I directly descend. This rare maternal line stands apart, as François’s second marriage produced sixteen children whose lines are more commonly found in modern genealogies.

The family tapestry includes prominent names such as Frapier dit Hilaire, LeSiège dit Fontaine, and Riel dit D’Irelande. My 6th great-grandfather, Karl Christopher Weissenstein, was a Hessian soldier turned immigrant, and connects to my 4th great-grandmother, Mathilda Vinchestein dit Charles, who married Moïse Hébert. Their daughter, Julia Hébert, merged this French-Germanic line with the Walloon Belgian Demin family, which later intermarried with another Walloon Belgian line—the Wendrickx.

A distinct yet equally compelling line descends from Alexis Brunet dit Dauphin, a master tailor who immigrated to Canada from Ancenis, France. His descendant, my 3rd great-grandmother Betsey Brunette, married Reuel Judkins—New England blue blood and part of a pioneer family in Kennebec County, Maine. Their union represents the merging of old blood from both France and England.

This branch of my ancestry carries the fire of religious dissent, rooted in the earliest days of colonial New England. I descend from a long line of Baptist rebels, heretics, and nonconformist visionaries—people who risked everything to follow their conscience over crown, church, and conformity.

Among them is Robert Burdick, an early Rhode Island settler and founding member of the Seventh Day Baptist Church, whose descendants carried on the cause of religious liberty. He was a key founder of Westerly. I also descend from Rev. Stephen Bachiler, a radical clergyman who openly defied Puritan authority and helped establish areas such as Exeter, New Hampshire, but was met with exile from the Colonies. My Judkins line runs all the way to my grandmother, Nathalie Mae, who married Otto Kutschke's son, Norman.

Samuel Hubbard and his wife, Tacy Cooper, became founding members of the Seventh Day Baptist movement in Rhode Island. These people were fined and even imprisoned for their  I also descend from Edward Wightman, “The Heretic,” the last person executed by burning in England for religious beliefs, in 1612.

These were not passive ancestors—they were persecuted, hunted, and exiled for believing in personal revelation over institutional control. Their courage echoes through generations, shaping a lineage marked by conviction, radical faith, and spiritual rebellion. I am their descendant—and their fire still burns in me.

This branch of my ancestry hails from Chastre, in Walloon Belgium, a region steeped in French Catholic heritage, political complexity, and cultural endurance.

My 3rd great-grandfather, Julien Wendrickx, opened a tavern in Green Bay and ran for local government, asserting himself in the civic life of a new country. After his early death from illness, his wife, Sidonia, defied the expectations of her time: though she could not vote, she became the proprietor of the tavern, managing it independently in the late 1800s. Her role as a woman running a business in that era—especially a bar—is a striking reminder of the quiet strength that defined so many immigrant women. (Very Wisconsin, honestly.)

Their son, Frank Wendricks, was orphaned young but survived into adulthood. His daughter, Loretta Wendricks became a Justice of the Peace and served as president of an advocacy organization for disabled children, blending public service with compassion, and closing the loop on generations of Wendrickx defiance, care, and quiet power.

Through this line, I inherit not only Walloon ancestry, but a legacy of women who led, children who survived, and families who built something lasting from loss.