The Boxing Blacksmith of Holm

I was lucky enough to know my great grandfather for the first 10 years of my life. Heinrich "Henry" Chistensen was a quiet man, gentle and strong. Even after he passed at the age of 92, I was still regaled with tales of his fascinating life.

Heinrich "Henry" Christensen

Born in 1895 in “Denmark” to a family of blacksmiths, he came of age with the German invasion and found himself conscripted into the German army in 1914. He saw plenty of battles, was shot in the hand, and received two Iron Crosses for bravery.

Graves of 1000 Canadian, French, and German soldiers

After the war he joined the Canadian Merchant Marines and sailed around the world. It was here that he learned the art of boxing and became a regiment champ. As the story goes though, he grew tired of the Merchant Marines, so when the ship was docked near New Brunswick, he jumped ship, swam to shore, and made his way to the United States.

"Canterbury Straights" 

Family lore dictates that his boxing skills led him to New York City, where he fought in Madison Square Gardens. But as we all know with the perils of family stories, this particular detail adds excitement but has yet to be verified. He quit boxing due to unscrupulous practices by his manager and made his way West, where he found himself working in the oil fields of central California.

He met a feisty little German gal who worked as a cook at one of the many camps, swept her off her feet with his quiet and gentle charm, got married and started a family. The quintessential American dream.

Germany 1964 

The details of his life are enough to start any genealogist salivating, and after the birth of my first child, when I became interested in researching my family for future generations, his story was one of the first I wanted to investigate. His daughter in law, my paternal grandmother, passed on a small treasure trove of information: photos (some labeled, some not), a passport, and a military record book that detailed out most of his accomplishments with the German army. My parents, ever forward thinking, even interviewed him during his later years, asking where he was born, who his parents were, and names of his siblings.

You’re probably asking yourself, “Great story, but where’s the brick wall? Sounds like you have everything you need to research his family.” And you’d probably be right. I had all of the details…

And I still slammed up against a solid wall.

I had the names of his parents and town where he was supposedly born in Denmark… and no records to be found. Holm, Denmark was what he told everyone and was what he wrote on his military documents and Naturalization papers. Do you know how many Holms there are in Denmark?

A LOT. Not to mention there are over 281 towns with a variation of “holm” in the name. And how many Heinrich Christensen’s there are? A LOTTER.

So the paper trail ran cold.

Then I discovered DNA. I had already done autosomal testing on myself, my parents, and my surviving grandparents. I had very clear genetic markers for multiple branches of my tree, but my great grandfather’s line remained dark. Since the line in question was my father’s paternal line, it only made sense to have my dad take a YDNA test. Should clear things up, right?

For anyone who has done Scandinavian research, you understand the pitfalls of patronymics. The surnames changed with every generation up until the mid to late 1800s. The YDNA test, while still potentially useful, did not answer my immediate question surrounding Henry's father.

Not giving up, I decided to ask my dad’s paternal first cousin to take an autosomal test. He graciously agreed and when the results came in I decided to try some more advanced genetic genealogy techniques. Let me just summarize by saying that by comparing shared matches between myself, my dad, and his first cousin, I came across a distant cousin who had very deep Danish roots.

I contacted her, described my dilemma, and asked for any help she could provide. She kindly responded with: Well, I actually did not do any of the research. Let me put you in contact with my cousin in Germany who worked on these lines.

Within a week I was corresponding with a German researcher who had become fascinated with my great grandfather’s tale and was determined to help me break through the wall. And he did.

He found where my great grandfather was born.

You see, the Holm where my great grandfather was born, was not in the traditional Danish borders. It was in Schleswig-Holstein, Germany, a parcel of land that transferred between Denmark and Germany many times. Some residents considered themselves German, some Danish. And his particular hamlet was located a scant 7 miles from the current Danish border.

This same incredible researcher then put me in contact with a German Archivist who generously looked up the parish records… and found my family. Over 6 generations of them to be exact. My great grandfather may have been a Christensen, but HIS grandfather was born out of wedlock, and should have been a Sorenson. With the fun of Danish patronymics, Jurgenson, Rassmussen’s and Hansen’s all join in, all the way back to 1685. 

Would this have been possible without DNA? Absolutely. But the incredible tools it provided allowed me to focus my research, contact the right person, who then helped me solve a mystery. I still don’t have a lot of genetic matches along that line, but whenever a new one pops up, I contact them, provide a copy of my tree, and say welcome to the family.

Martha (Klugow) Christensen, Heinrich Christensen, and myself circa 1984