Hi. I was recently reading a memoir of my father's childhood and it included a piece about an American family called Leisenring, and it being a rather unusual name, I thought I'd look it up on the web. My father, Philip Hernaman Allen,was born in 1903 and would be a contemporary of your grandfather. He lived at the time of the memoir in Nursery Avenue, Hale, near Manchester in England.
Here is what he writes:
"My greatest friends,however, were two American children, Walter and Alice Leisenring. A big house known as Brown's house, standing in extensive grounds at the end of a little lane that runs from Ashley Heath to "Carter's" Bottom had been taken by a Theosophist's Society or a Blavatsky Institute of which their mother, a widow, was a member,and they came to live at what had been the coach house and stables facing its entrance. The Society had no use for the grounds and here, and in the stables and coach house, we were allowed to play as we wished. Walter was the Knight of the Red Cross and I the Knight of the Blue Horse (my father painted a beauty on a piece of old mahogany shelving, and with a couple of straps it made a fine shield) and with our shields and swords or bows and arrows we whooped through the woods and made raids on the fields of old Daddy Carter, who once in exasperation threw a pitchfork at Walter. When it was wet we had the coach house, with a swing, and exercised ourselves building a raft, with a platform of planks on which we fastened a tub. We even bearded the Hale Council Offices on Ashley Road for a bucket of tar. At last it was complete and with immense excitement we dragged it through the woods and down to the Bollin, not far from the spot where the river is crossed by the road to Ashley. We floated it on the water, but as soon as anyone stepped on board, alas, it sank! One time we laid in stores (fruit, nuts and sweets and biscuits) and locked ourselves in a small summerhouse-shed in the grounds, determined to stay there about 24 hours, but after an hour or two we lost heart and climbed out through the window. Walter seemed to bring with him a touch of American lawlessness, and I remember that at the end of term once we threw all the inkwells out into the road through some outburst of high spirits. After about two years the Theosophists moved on, and the Leisenrings with them, and to my great grief, I heard nothing more of them, nor have done to this day. I can still see Walter with his brown face, eager smile, black hair, which, like his shorts was always longer than that of an English boy."
I hope that this is your grandfather, or if not you can pass the description on to the other members of what seems like a thriving Leisenring clan in America.
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