The Night Everything Changed: Uncovering Family History in Monmouth County, New Jersey
- Dr. Guadalupe Vanderhorst Rodriguez D.Ac, L.Ac
- Aug 17, 2025
- 5 min read
By Dr. Guadalupe Vandrehorst Rodriguez
I always believed the story.
The one my grandmother, Dorothy Livingston, carried in her heart like a half-healed wound. The tale of her father, David Sylvester Livingston, who, according to family lore, was mistaken for a deer and shot while out hunting. It was tragic. Sad, yes—but an accident. A misunderstanding of the worst kind.
But what if that wasn’t the truth?
What if, buried under years of silence, faded photographs, and whispers passed at kitchen tables, there was another version of the story—a more complicated, more human one?
This is how my journey into family history in Monmouth County, New Jersey turned from a quiet pastime into something that shook the foundation of everything I thought I knew.
The Story We Were Told
Dorothy, my grandmother, never really knew her father. He died when she was still young. All she knew was that he had gone out one day and never came back. The explanation offered by those around her? He was mistaken for a deer during a hunting trip.
That was it. A brief summary. A single sentence that defined a life lost.
And for years, we all accepted it. Why wouldn’t we?
After all, family stories, even when incomplete, have a way of becoming sacred. You don’t question them. You pass them on.
But something about the story never sat right with me. There were no hunting details. No mention of who pulled the trigger. No location. Just... a disappearance.
And so, I decided to do what family historians do—I started digging.
A Cold Night in Red Bank
The real story began to unfold through court records, archived newspapers, and trial transcripts that had long been forgotten. And what I found stunned me.
It was February 17, 1910, in Red Bank, a vibrant town in Monmouth County, New Jersey, known then—like now—for its sense of community, its charm, and its unexpected moments of drama.
That night, the Red Bank Police Department was hosting its annual ball, and the streets were filled with laughter and celebration. Among those out enjoying the night were David Livingston, his close friend Robert Mountjoy, and another companion, Thomas Seward.
The three men were walking together, arm in arm, spirits high, when things took a sudden and irreversible turn.
Robert Mountjoy, for reasons we’ll never fully understand, began firing his pistol into the air—perhaps to show off, perhaps out of reckless excitement. Thomas Seward, aware of the danger, warned him to stop.
But before that warning could save anyone, the pistol discharged—and the bullet struck David.
“Tell Mama, I Am Shot.”
The testimony from the trial says that David, as he collapsed to the ground, managed to say just one thing:
“Tell Mama, I am shot.”
Those five words. Simple. Devastating.
And yet, Mountjoy, in his shock—or perhaps disbelief—reportedly replied:
“Stop fooling around, David.”
But this was no prank. No exaggeration. It was real. And it was fatal.
Thomas Seward ran to get help. He raced to the Livingston home and returned with David’s father, Louis Livingston.
And what Louis saw that night must have haunted him forever—his son lying in the street, the friend who had caused it still beside him. And with the weight of grief pressing down, Louis looked at Robert and said:
“Dave thought of you as a brother.”
The Trial, The Verdict, The Silence
A trial was held shortly after. The courts concluded it was an accidental death, and Mountjoy wasn’t convicted of murder or manslaughter. Legally, the case was closed.
But emotionally? Not even close.
David was buried in White Ridge Cemetery in Eatontown, New Jersey. His daughter Dorothy—so young, so full of questions—never got the full story. And perhaps no one around her wanted to reopen the wound by telling her the truth.
So, the story shifted. From a friend’s reckless mistake… to a hunter’s misfire.
It was easier that way. Simpler. Cleaner.
And for years, that’s the version that was passed down.
Why the Truth Matters
When I read the court transcripts, I could see the scene unfold. The streets of Red Bank. The energy of the night. The laughter interrupted by a single shot. The urgency. The disbelief. The heartbreak.
And I could also see my grandmother—Dorothy—growing up without ever knowing what truly happened to her father.
That realization crushed me.
Because family history isn’t just names and dates. It’s not just birth certificates and census records. It’s truth. It’s identity. It’s the raw, unfiltered stories that shape us—even if we don’t know them yet.
As someone committed to preserving and understanding family history in Monmouth County, New Jersey, this discovery felt monumental. It reminded me that our ancestors weren’t characters in a play—they were real people, with real pain, real choices, and real consequences.
Rewriting the Story
Now, when I share David’s story, I don’t start with the deer. I start with the truth.
With the streets of Red Bank. With a gun. With friendship, tragedy, and the silence that followed.
And I share it not to shame anyone, but to honor David. To give Dorothy the closure she never had. To show that even a century later, the truth can rise to the surface—and change the way we see ourselves.
A Call to Family Historians
If you’re someone researching your family history in Monmouth County, New Jersey, or anywhere else for that matter, I urge you:
Question the myths.
Look deeper.
Search the archives.
Read between the lines.
And above all—listen to your gut.
Because sometimes, the stories we carry are only half the truth. And sometimes, the rest is just waiting to be found.
In Memory of David Sylvester Livingston
Gone too soon. Never forgotten. Your truth has found its voice.
#FamilyStories #IndigenousHistoryMatters #HistoricalTruth #AncestralVoices #HiddenHistory #GenealogyJourney #SandhillIndiansofMonmouthCountyNewJersey
About the Author:
Dr. Guadalupe Vanderhorst Rodriguez is a dedicated family historian, licensed acupuncturist, and the founder of Book Serenity, a platform that celebrates holistic healing, ancestral knowledge, and cultural preservation.
With roots in Monmouth County, New Jersey, and a deep personal connection to Indigenous heritage, Dr. Rodriguez brings history to life through storytelling, genealogical research, and emotional truth.
She has spent over two decades uncovering untold family narratives, preserving forgotten voices, and helping others heal through both historical clarity and holistic health. Her work blends the power of ancestral wisdom with modern tools, inspiring individuals to reconnect with their lineage and inner strength.
Through her writings, courses, and podcast appearances, she empowers others to embrace their authentic path—bridging the past and present for a better, more conscious future.
To learn more, visit: www.BookSerenity.com .Follow on YouTube, Pinterest & Spotify: @BookSerenityInstagram: @KicotanHealingCircle
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