Whether you're researching a house, a community, a person, or an entire family, historic newspapers are an invaluable resource. Every time I dive into one, I'm surprised by what I find. And just when I think I've squeezed every last ounce of information from them, something new emerges.
My latest discovery came while researching the Sandusky family of Hendricks County, Indiana—a search that not only led me through traditional records but also revealed the power of newspapers in uncovering forgotten histories.
Who was Jacob Sandusky?
The Sandusky name stands out in the historical record, particularly on the 1865 land ownership map of Hendricks County. Among the hundreds of landowners depicted, one name looms large in Brown Township: Jacob Sandusky.

Owning 1,080 acres, Jacob was one of the county’s largest landowners. Federal land sales records show that his holdings were even more extensive in the county’s earliest days—1,680 acres purchased between March 1837 and September 1838, to be exact. These records also indicate that Jacob was a resident of Bourbon County, Kentucky.
Yet, despite his vast landholdings, Jacob never appears in Hendricks County census records between 1840 and 1860, suggesting he may have been an absentee landowner. By 1867, tax records show that his land in Hendricks County had passed to James Sandusky, a likely relative.
Searching the 1850 and 1860 censuses for Bourbon County, Kentucky, a single Jacob Sandusky can be located. And he was wealthy. In 1850, the value of his real estate was listed as $75,000, which is equivalent to several million dollars today. By 1860, this had soared to $190,000, with an additional $30,000 in personal property (important to note that this number included Jacob's 18 slaves). These numbers placed him among the wealthiest men in the area at the time.
A 1925 journalist's quest to uncover Sandusky's story
As it turns out, I was not the only one in central Indiana wondering just who exactly Jacob Sandusky was. Another person, wondered, too—100 years ago.


Jacob had also purchased land in Marion County, where Irvington, one of Indianapolis’s first suburbs, is located today. This historical fact caught the attention of Grace Julian Clarke, an Irvington resident and a well-known political activist, suffragist, and newspaper columnist. She decided to investigate further.
In her first column on the matter, published in 1925, Clarke acknowledged she had an advantage I don’t—she could speak directly with people who remembered Jacob. One of them was a gentleman named W. H. H. Shank, but she missed her chance to interview him, lamenting the “tragedy” of lost knowledge. Determined not to repeat this mistake, Clarke sought out Jacob’s living relatives to piece together his story.
Family memories: An unwritten historical record

Clarke’s journalistic work became a form of historical preservation, capturing personal stories and recollections that would otherwise be lost.
Mrs. Henry Clay Sandusky, a daughter-in-law of Jacob, recounted his life in Kentucky as a slaveholder before the Civil War, offering insights into his character (to be taken with a grain of salt, or perhaps more), religious beliefs, and demeanor. A granddaughter, Mrs. Ellison Arbuckle, elaborated on his travels through Indiana and Illinois, recalling a specific trip Jacob took to her father’s house in Brownsburg, Indiana.
A grandson, Thomas Sandusky of Pittsboro, Indiana, wrote a letter to Clarke (presumably after reading her initial articles on Sandusky) and provided fascinating details about Jacob’s quirks, such as his preference for traveling barefoot. Another woman, Mrs. Forest Neal, also wrote to Clarke. She was the daughter-in-law of James W. Neal, a grandson of Jacob’s. James had been raised in Jacob’s house after his mother died giving birth to him. Mrs. Neal was able to provide Clarke with additional details about Jacob’s life in Kentucky and his travels through Indiana and Illinois.
The research value of historic newspapers
The stories these family members shared weren’t recorded in traditional historical sources. If not for Grace Julian Clarke’s 1925 columns, these details would have faded into obscurity.
This is the true value of historic newspapers: they preserve voices of the past, capture forgotten stories, and provide details that official records simply don’t. Unbeknownst to her, her work became a valuable source for future historians.