The Improved Order of Red Men

 by Susan Zehnder, Education Director

In August 1904, Michael J. O’Hara, in charge of records for the Improved Order of Red Men (IORM), left Elmira on a train for Utica where he planned to transfer and board another train destined for Buffalo.

Costumed IORM member 

The IORM was holding its annual state convention and delegates were gathering.  Elected in 1898, O’Hara had been a popular record keeper and he fully expected to be re-elected to the position. He wasn’t. He never made it to the convention.

A few days after not showing up in Buffalo, he surfaced in Connecticut at his brother’s house. He claimed he had met a fellow delegate on the train, someone he didn’t know. They chatted amiably and the stranger offered him a drink. Soon after taking a swig, he said, he passed out and never got to Buffalo. Because the record keeper held membership dues for hundreds of New York state IORM members, suspicions arose. Right away, local and national leaders arrived in Elmira to comb through his financial records. He was accused of various malicious activity. When things finally settled, O’Hara’s books were determined to be sound, and the hunt for the mysterious delegate ended. O’Hara returned to Elmira. 

Just what kind of organization inspired this strange event?

The Improved Order of Red Men was founded in Baltimore as a fraternal society in 1834. It claims to have ties to an earlier group called the Sons of Liberty who participated in the Boston Tea Party. These white men, dressed (they thought) like Indians and threw tea overboard into the Boston Harbor to protest British taxes. The IORM, while not open to indigenous members, used Indian-like names, rituals, and even regalia in their meetings, which they called Pow-wows.

Exclusive supplier to IORM

Their headquarters were called wigwams; state and national leaders were given the title of sachem, an appropriated indigenous title; local leaders and officers were called chiefs; and anyone not in the organization was a paleface. IORM Auxiliary women’s groups were called Daughters of Pocahontas. They were not looking to understand indigenous cultures, but took what they thought were native “activities” to further their group’s mission to support patriotism and American ideals. President Franklin D. Roosevelt was an honorary member.

Franklin D. Roosevelt in IORM headdress

While this cultural appropriation wasn’t unique to secret fraternal societies of the time, the IORM was one of the largest to do this. In 1921, its membership numbers was estimated to be over 500,000 nationwide, and it was the nation’s fourth largest benevolent society. According to the IORM website, there were groups located in 46 states and territories.

Elmira area IORM members and families, circa 1902s

Elmira's City Directory for 1903, listed 11 groups, called tribes. Some of the names they operated under were Ko-bus, Tomoka, Wetamore, Massasoit, Mimosa, Manhattan, Ogoyago. The groups held social balls, raised money for polio care, marched in parades, held boxing matches, and provided events for children. They also paid benefits to members down on their luck and marked deaths in memorial services. A splinter group of the national IORM broke off to form the Haymakers, these were men who advocated for more fun and mischief because they thought the IORM was getting too serious. Elmira had a group of them too.  One well-known member of the IORM was Matt Lockwood.

Accounting book with notice of M. Lockwood's death

Locally, the number of groups dwindled to four, then two, and finally none by the end of the 1950s. State groups, though, continued to gather and frequently used the Mark Twain Hotel in Elmira for annual state conventions. These multi-day events often included tours to Corning Glass or hosting speakers, like Dr. Erl Bates, a professor from Cornell University. Bates had established Cornell’s Indian Extension Program and a scholarship program for Haudenosaunee women. He spoke to the 1952 convention about the history of the Haudenosaunee or Iroquois nation. 

Nationally, membership continued to fall. Attempting to address this, the organization admitted non-white members in 1974. Today national membership hovers around 15,000. The national headquarters shifted from Baltimore, MD, to Waco, Texas. Today, there is a museum in Waco dedicated to the group. Its collection boasts a writing desk from Aaron Burr, a ring once belonging to Rudolph Valentino, and a blanket attributed to Geronimo. Today's members include five groups that still meet in New York State. They’re located in Johnstown, Lockport, Rochester, Vestal, and Watkins Glen.

So what became of Michael O’Hara?  He remained a member of the local IORM but never served in any leadership role again. After a few years, he left Elmira and moved to New York City, still a member of the IORM.

In 1931, Edward A. Davis, chief of the great wampum went missing after police started looking into his financial dealings. Davis was the national treasurer at the time. He left a farewell (suicide) note to his wife. His suitcase and hat were discovered on a boat, but no one remembered seeing him. Davis was never found. Guy Vinton of Rochester, stepped in and took over the duties of chief of the great wampum.

In 1938, O’Hara ran against Vinton for the position of great chief of records but ended up withdrawing his name. Vinton, unopposed, won.

Birthright Citizenship

By Rachel Dworkin

Birthright citizenship has been in the news lately thanks to President Trump’s recent Executive Order 14156. The order ends birthright citizenship for the children of undocumented immigrants and legal migrants in the country on temporary work, student, or tourist visas. At present, nearly every country in North and South America has birthright citizenship, but the practice is rare in the rest of the world. Historically, its application in the United States has been…complicated.

Like most things about the American legal system, birthright citizenship in the United States has its roots in English common law. Traditionally, anyone born in the king’s domain was automatically a subject of the king, including anyone born in the Colonies. Following the American Revolution, a series of court cases confirmed that people born in the United States or its territories were automatically citizens…with exceptions. In Dred Scott v. Sanford (1857), the Supreme Court held that the U.S. Constitution only granted citizenship to whites and no one of African descent, whether free or enslaved, born here or not, could ever be citizens.

Today, the Dred Scott decision is widely regarded as one of the worst rulings the Supreme Court ever made. It was effectively overturned by the Citizenship Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment (adopted July 9, 1868). The clause states: 

"All persons born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and of the State wherein they reside." 

Even following the passage of the Fourteenth Amendment, there were questions about just who qualified when it came to birthright citizenship. In 1873, Wong Kim Ark was born in San Francisco, California to Chinese immigrant parents who were ineligible to become citizens themselves thanks to the Naturalization Law of 1802 which offered naturalization only to free whites. As a young man, Wong left to visit China and was subsequently denied re-entry to the United States upon his return thanks to the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882 and a customs official’s refusal to acknowledge his citizenship. The case went all the way to the Supreme Court as United States v. Wong Kim Ark (1898). The court decided that the children of foreigners born on American soil were American citizens, whether the parents were eligible to become citizens or not. They made just four exceptions: children of foreign diplomats; children born on foreign public ships; children of enemy forces engaged in hostile occupation of the country’s territory, and children of Indian tribes (which were effectively considered sovereign peoples). This last exception was subsequently removed by the Indian Citizenship Act of 1924 which granted citizenship to all Native Americans.  

 

Wong Kim Ark, ca. 1904 (courtesy of Wikipedia)

So how does one prove American citizenship? These days, with a birth certificate, but it’s a relatively new phenomenon. In fact, for much of American history, birth records were held by churches, assuming there were even records at all. During the mid-1800s, different states began making a concerted effort to record births. New York State, for example, began collection birth records in 1881. Some counties and municipalities across the state began doing it earlier. New York City began recording births as far back as 1847. Chemung County has records going back to 1875, although not at the Historical Society.

The U.S. Public Health Service has a standard form for registering births, although many states have their own as well. The forms are completed by the attendant at birth or a hospital administrator and forwarded to the state and local health departments. In Chemung County, birth certificates are issued and held by the Chemung County Vital Records office at 103 Washington Street in Elmira. Parents receive a free copy of their child’s birth certificate and additional ones can be ordered for a fee. Everyone should have a copy of their birth certificate. You will need one when applying for a passport, driver’s license, or non-driver’s ID. You can request historical birth certificates for genealogical purposes from the Chemung County Vital Records office as well. 

Form for attendants at birth, ca. 1910s

 

Executive Order 14156 was signed on January 20, 2025. It was immediately challenged by the attorneys general of 22 states (including New York) and multiple organizations. Although it was initially slated to go into effect on February 19, 2025, it may never go into effect at all if the courts find it unconstitutional.

 

A Woman of Means: Sarah Wey Tompkins

by Erin Doane, Senior Curator

At our Woodlawn Cemetery Ghost Walk in 2024, the final story was that of Sarah Wey Tompkins (1866-1929). As I was researching her life to write the script, I was struck by the fact that nearly half of her obituary was about her father, her brother, and her husband. My printout of the obituary has 21 inches of text. 9.5 of those inches are about the men in her life. Her actual name, not “Mrs. Ray Tompkins,” does not appear until after 4 inches of text.

Sarah Wey Tompkins, from her obituary, Star-Gazette, January 22, 1929

It was not at all unusual for a woman in the early 20^th century to be almost exclusively referred to as “Mrs. Husband’s Name” in public and to be known only in the context of her male relatives. Though both are pet peeves of mine, in this case, the conventions make some sense. Sarah Wey Tompkins was a woman of means because of the families she was born and then married into. While she was an active philanthropist, she owed her ability to donate large amounts of time and money to charitable causes to the men in her life. This context is just as important as her accomplishments.

Sarah Ross Wey was born on July 22, 1866. Her father was a prominent doctor and president of the New York State Medical Society in 1871. Her mother was the daughter of a doctor as well (as mentioned in Sarah’s obituary). On September 6, 1893, Sarah married Ray Tompkins, a prominent businessman and one of Elmira’s leading citizens. Their wedding was written up in detail in that day’s edition of the Star-Gazette. They were married at Trinity Church by Rev. Dr. George H. McKnight. A wreath of pink roses encircled the chancel rail and the font and pulpit were adorned with palms and ferns. Sarah, attended by her father, entered the church to the “Bridal Chorus” from Lohengrin played on the organ. She wore a white gown, a bridal veil, and carried a prayer book. The newly-wed couple exited the church to the Mendelssohn Wedding March from “Midsummer Night’s Dream.” Mr. and Mrs. Tompkins then enjoyed breakfast with their family and friends at Sarah’s father’s house.

Chamber of Commerce Board of Directors, 1904
Ray Tompkins is seated second from the left

The couple never had children, but Sarah filled her time managing the household and presided over many brilliant social events on behalf of her husband. Ray began his career in the wholesale grocery business. He then invested in railroads and became president of the Elmira Water, Light & Railroad Company. He served as president of the Chemung Canal Trust Company as well and was involved in many community organizations. By the time of his death in 1918, he was a very wealthy man.

It was noted in her obituary that Sarah practically gave up her social activities when Ray died, but she continued to contribute to the community, thanks to the large estate he had left to her. In 1923, she anonymously donated 750-acres of property to Yale to be made into a golf course in honor of her husband, who was an 1884 graduate and a star athlete while a student there. She was also a longtime supporter of Elmira College and was elected to its board of trustees in 1927. Tompkins Hall is named after her.

Tompkins Hall at Elmira College, 1930s

Sarah was the largest contributor to the fund to build the new Arnot-Ogden Hospital Annex, donating $200,000 for the project. On November 14, 1926, she laid the cornerstone to the new building. Several hundred people were in attendance. After Elmira Mayor David Heller and Dr. Arthur W. Booth spoke, Sarah Wey Tompkins, with the assistance of young Elizabeth Falck, ceremonially spread the mortar with a silver trowel. Miss Falck, by the way, was the daughter of Mrs. Elizabeth Rathbone Falck who laid the original hospital cornerstone in 1887. After the stone was settled into place, Sarah announced, “I declare this stone to be truly and right laid.”

Elizabeth Falck (center left) and Sarah Wey Tompkins (center right) at the Arnot-Ogden Hospital Annex’s cornerstone laying ceremony, November 4, 1926

Most of her life as a widow was spent out of the limelight. She was an avid traveler, spending months touring the world in the 1920s. It was while on her way to Europe aboard the Vulcania in 1929 that she contracted pneumonia. She died at 11 o’clock in the morning on January 22 in Cannes, France. Her travel companion, Maude M. Howland of New York City, made the arrangements for her to be returned to Elmira. Her funeral was held at her home in Strathmont Park on February 14 and she was interred at Woodlawn Cemetery.

Gravesite of Sarah Wey Tompkins and Ray Tompkins in Woodlawn Cemetery, 2024

Sarah was the last member of that branch of the Tompkins family in Elmira. Her husband’s estate had gone to her upon his passing. Her will distributed their wealth among various organizations including Arnot-Ogden Memorial Hospital, Elmira College, the Southern Tier Children’s Home, and the Home for the Aged. Bequests were also made to a cousin and half a dozen employees.

List of bequest in Sarah Wey Tompkins' will, Star-Gazette, February 16, 1929