The First Word #23: Negative Search Results Leads to Old Friends

    Last week I spent five days in Salt Lake City. I had grand visions of the records I would locate, the great new leads I would discover, the holes in my research I would fill. I spent hours before the trip combing the online catalog, creating a list of films and books to look at when I finally arrived at the shining front doors of the genealogical Mecca. But the research gods had other plans for me.
    I spent the first few days searching through those books and films for Thomas C. Mitchell and his wife Angeline. For a long time they have been my favorite research subjects, but lately they have been more trouble than they are worth! I’m sure you have some ancestors like that too. (Maybe even some living relatives, but that’s an entirely different subject.) In particular, records of their marriage elude me.
    I flew into Salt Lake City very early on Wednesday morning, so when I arrived I had a nice breakfast to get my energy up. I went to the library for a few hours and started looking through the books on my list. After lunch I dove into the films. Over the next couple of days I scrolled through film after film and read through piles and piles of books. Much to my chagrin, I never found a single new record about them, let alone any clue to their marriage. I am beginning to think that Thomas and Angeline got married in the backyard by someone who had the audacity to not record their nuptials!
     The trip wasn’t without any discoveries, I did find something new completely by accident. I found out that one of Thomas and Angeline’s daughters, Mary, was married four times, the last time in Iowa. I stumbled across this tidbit of information while searching the FamilySearch.org digital records database. I don’t know for certain yet, but I believe that Angeline’s maiden name is Higdon. In this document, Angeline’s maiden name had been spelled differently (“Hoegdoen”) but by searching creatively for “Thomas C. Mitchell” with spouse “Angeline” (omitting her maiden name), I spotted this record in the list rather quickly. This piece of information didn’t do much for my main research plan except that it gave a little more weight to my theory.  I have also pieced together a Hidgon family group from the correct time and place that might be related to Angeline, but  I have not found a record yet that links her directly to them.
    Thursday night I took a break from research and I found myself wandering through the dusk to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir’s rehearsal night, which they open to the public. If I were to imagine what Heaven sounds like, that would be it! As I left, the temple to the east of the tabernacle was lit up and beautiful and I stopped for a photo, which I promptly posted to my Facebook page.
    After three days of finding next to nothing, I found myself extremely frustrated. I decided not to go back to the library and instead focus the remainder of my time on a couple of writing projects I had underway. I spent a lot of time at a local Starbucks using their internet connection, writing and of course, on Facebook. The temple photo I had posted on my Facebook page garnered a comment from a friend Craig who happens to be friends with Julie, another old friend of mine from college who it turns out now lives in Salt Lake City! Julie and I hadn’t reconnected on Facebook yet, so in seeing Craig’s comment on my photo she immediately sent me a message and we arranged to have breakfast together. It also caught the attention of Danny another long lost friend from college who stopped by to see me on his way through town. It was really great to see them and catch up.
    Despite all of the frustrations of not finding the ancestors I intended to find on this trip, I did keep a log of all of the films and books I looked through. The next time I’m planning a trip to the library, I can refer to my log and see exactly what titles I already searched in and more importantly, for what names. This log will keep me from repeating my research, as I have found myself doing on previous trips. Even if I didn’t find Thomas and Angeline, I now know more accurately where to continue my search. More importantly, however, my trip turned out to be more of a weekend to reconnect with the living, instead of with the dead.

The First Word #22: Betraying the Heartland

You all know me as a genealogist. I also work full time as a chiropractic assistant and have learned a lot about health, diet and nutrition. Consequently, have recently made some radical changes to my diet and have very quickly seen positive results. Basically, I have decided to cut out all grains (with the rare exception of some rice), most dairy and extra sugars from my diet. If you are interested in reading more about that journey, I am writing a blog about it at 1yearsjourney.blogspot.com. Interestingly, genealogy and health have come together a few times in the last few weeks and it has been interesting to see how they intersect.

I come from a long line of farmers. I have researched most of my family lines back to their arrival in America from some far off land. It turns out most of them were farmers who happily pursued the agricultural life their fathers had followed before them. My ancestors planted, tilled and harvested the food that they ate. They did not process their food, with the exception of canning in glass jars, they ate whole foods: vegetables, fruits, beef, eggs and chicken they raised themselves, without the use of pesticides, growth hormones or antibiotics. But as the business of agriculture grew, it centered more and more on processed grains and less and less on healthy, whole food from small farms. Today a large portion of our population gets over 60% of their food from boxes and cans. Sadly, most children today don’t even realize that food comes from somewhere other than the grocery store!

Grains grown today are not the same as the grains my ancestors grew. They have been heavily modified by both selective breeding and later by genetic engineering to resist calamities such as pesticides and drought and to produce more product. But the actual nutritional value of the product has gone down significantly. I recently watched the documentary King Corn which was quite interesting in that these two young men learned by analyzing hair samples that for the most part we are all mostly eating nothing but corn. So they went to Iowa, planted one acre of corn and learned about the whole farming process from start to finish. These two young men had been friends from childhood somewhere on the east coast but learned that they both descended from great-great-grandfathers who came from the same small county in Iowa. While they were waiting for their corn to grow they visited the cemetery to locate their ancestors’ graves and they sought out any relations still living in the area. They also discuss the ways corn has changed since it was brought to America.

Their family stories are similar to mine. My husband, kids and I just returned from visiting my remaining family in Ohio where I grew up. My grandfather owned an 80 acre farm outside of Perrysburg, Ohio where he grew corn, soy beans and wheat as long as he was able to farm. As a child I would happily ride along in the tractor while he tilled, planted or harvested. There was a very large garden on their farm where they grew fresh vegetables, some of the only fresh vegetables I ate as a child since my parents moved me into the city and most of the time we only ate canned vegetables and processed foods. My favorite thing to do was to take a salt shaker and head into the garden where I would eat fresh, juicy tomatoes right off the plant with a little salt!

Times have changed. In those days my grandparents ate a pretty good diet of food they grew on their farm. But as food got cheaper and easier to just buy at the store, we started buying food at the store. We buy all kinds of processed food to add convenience to our lives. My grandma used to make her own egg noodles, now we can spend no time at all doing that and just buy them at the store. Grandma even used to make her own ketchup from those garden tomatoes! Now, a bottle costs about $2.00 and you spend no time making it. The less time spent making the food leaves more time for other important things, like more hours at a higher paying job so you can afford to travel more or do more genealogy! Whatever your situation is, I've been doing the exact same things. But to whose benefit? What are we really gaining by not spending time doing these "old fashioned" activities? I'm not sure what we are gaining but I'll tell you what I see all around me: we are losing our health. The top diseases in this country, cancer, diabetes and heart disease, are all caused by lifestyle choices, meaning what we are eating and how much we are exercising.

So when I was back in Ohio last week, my family tried their best to accommodate our new and "weird" ways of eating. But I want them all to know that our "weird" way could be changing and saving their lives too! I felt a little bit like I was betraying my ancestors by no longer supporting their way of life, of the way they lived and survived that I might be here today, by exclaiming that the grains they grew are bad for us! It is an ironic situation, but in just three weeks I had already seen huge changes in myself. I’ve been doing this for eight weeks at the time of writing this article and the improvements keep coming. I am hoping it isn't too late for me to change my familial pattern, to not develop cancer or diabetes or heart disease. I want to be around, in a healthy state of being, for a long time. I have too many ancestors to research!

First Word #18: The Loss of Our Genealogical Mentor and Friend: Birdie Monk Holsclaw, 1948 - 2010

When I began attending meetings of the Boulder Genealogical Society, I didn’t know what I was doing. I had only really began researching my family history a few months before but I knew that I needed help and guidance in order for my research to be effective. So when I found the Boulder Genealogical Society, I was elated. Upon meeting Birdie, she almost immediately took me under her wing,very quickly became my mentor and friend.

After meeting with Birdie a few times to work on various projects, I really felt like I was the center of her attention. She wanted to know what I was working on, was quick to give me tips on how to get through some brick walls and was always, even at the end, sharing her discoveries in technology and the internet. One day, when we were looking at some of my research, I was sharing with Birdie my love of obituaries, showing her how many I had collected and we were discussing them in detail. Her words would change my genealogical life forever: “You should do a program on this. You can do that.” From that simple statement was born the program “An Obituary Obsession”, which to this day is one of my most popular programs with genealogical societies in the area. I had never even thought about being a speaker until Birdie mentioned it. It was almost as if she had given me permission to see a door that had opened up for me.

We worked on many projects together. Some of the most fun and productive times we had were those spent editing the Quarterly together. She and I would meet, most of the time at Buffalo Wild Wings in Longmont, not only because we both liked the food, but because they stayed open until 2 am. We were often there until after midnight, not only proofreading and editing, but also sharing research breakthroughs and ideas, and of course Birdie would show me some new gadget or website that she thought would be very useful for genealogy. We would sometimes have lengthy discussions over the proper use of a comma, or the proper placement of quotes, over definitions of words and if we’d used the right one. She taught me the difference between a dash, an en-dash and an em-dash. (And if you don’t know what they are, she taught me to use the Chicago Manual of Style to find out.)

Birdie truly cared about the Boulder Genealogical Society. I know when she was busy and couldn’t make a board meeting, she would give me strict instructions to bring up certain points on a topic up for discussion, or to begin new discussions. She wanted to be involved in many of our committees and projects. She taught me how to look at the bylaws and standing rules and assess them for needed changes. She taught me about parliamentary procedure. She made boring things fun and important at the same time.

My personal story about Birdie’s influence is not unique. On Birdie’s FaceBook page and at her memorial service, I read and heard many other stories like mine. “Birdie convinced me I could speak.” “Birdie always shared the latest technology with me.” “I served on a Board with Birdie and she was serious and fun at the same time.” And yet Birdie made me, and many others like me, feel like the most important person in the room. She just had that way about her; always present and giving you her undivided attention.

Birdie’s illness and passing really got me thinking about how much I’ve learned from her and how important it is to be a mentor. She was a natural mentor and collaborator, always interested in what everyone had to say, what they were working on, how they were going about it. I don’t know how Birdie managed to stay on top of things and even ahead of the game when it came to everything she talked about. She always seemed to know about the newest, latest and greatest things before anyone else did. Hers is an example we should all strive to follow, from the way she presented herself in meetings to the way she interacted in personal conversations, from her seriousness to her humor.

The last time I saw Birdie I had the chance to learn one last thing: to say to the people you love the things you need to say. When Birdie came in to meet that last time, she gave me a big hug, told me she loved me and that she was glad I was able to come. Of course, we got online right away to look at a project she was working on. Oh Birdie, you will be forever missed and never forgotten.

The First Word #15: Healing Relationships for Better Genealogy

Time is a funny thing. It just slips away and is gone before you know it. I don’t know what happened to the whole month of June for instance. I woke up the other day and my calendar said July 1st and I said, “Holy cow, where did June go?” As I get older, time seems to go by faster. My kids are already growing up, the number of years I’ve been alive is getting bigger at an alarming rate and I swear an hour or two is removed from my day every night while I am sleeping. Surely, there are only twenty-two hours in the day anymore!

I think of the shortness of life when I look how many of my “older” family members are passing away. There aren’t too many left “above” me in the tree any more. My family wasn’t that large to begin with! I only have 4 first cousins to start with! I know many families that have dozens. One of my maternal grandfather’s brothers and sisters died in May, Carl Businger. I remember as a child going to Uncle Carl’s house for a party on the 4th of July, eating watermelon in their back yard, then walking to the golf course nearby to watch the fireworks.

I was never very close to that side of the family. My mother has been semi-estranged from her family and after she moved us to Wyoming, we lost almost all contact with her family. Since my mother lost contact, so did I. When I became an adult and began researching my tree, her parents had already passed away and my already tenuous connections with any of her aunts and uncles had diminished even more.

I find it foolish and unnecessary that families can be broken apart and consequently much family history is lost as a result of one “break in the branch.” I would have loved to have had my grandfather’s siblings’ perspective on so many things. What could they have told me about him? About their upbringing? About their aunts, uncles, cousins? What stories have been lost now because of the grudges and wounded pride that happened before my time?

Stories are lost everyday that will never be pieced together, no matter how much research is done. My paternal grandfather, Karl Miller, was full of such stories. He told me about one time when he was painting a house with a bunch of other guys. One guy was standing on a ladder and his feet just happened to be at the same level as a window into the house. My grandpa took some paint into the house, reached out the window and painted the other man’s shoes! If I asked any number of people who knew my grandfather they would all have a story of his antics! These peeks into his practical joker personality are lost every time someone who knew him passes away. Then all that’s left of him are the names and dates and places that make up so much of the genealogical record.

That’s where part of our jobs as family historians come in. We have an obligation to interview those who are still living. Ask them about those who have already passed away, those who are still alive, and themselves. Videotape the interview or make an audio recording if they will let you. At least write these stories down and share them with your family.

Even in the time since I began writing this article I got an email from an aunt in Ohio letting me know that another member of our family has passed away. Uncle Ivan Stearns was a dedicated genealogist in my family, mainly researching the Businger side, which is my mother’s line. So, my point has been made again in my own family. I never had a chance to talk to Ivan. We had written letters a few times but never had the chance to meet. He’s on “that side” of the family that I’ve been apart from due to “bad blood” so long ago.

Are there similar situations in your family where someone has moved away, lost contact or been otherwise separated because of some fight or other disharmony? I encourage you to attempt to repair any relationships that have become lost or strained. These relationships are important for your genealogy, but more importantly, also for a more satisfying life being connected to your living family tree.

First Word #4 - Losing at Euchre to Win at Genealogy

The First Word: Losing at Euchre to Win at Genealogy
by Cari A. Taplin

I had the privilege of having my grandma, her sister-in-law Helen “Pinky” Dimick, and her long time friend Wilma Jimison visit my family here in Colorado in February 2006. This was a big deal for several reasons, mainly because they are getting older and because they came all the way from Ohio. The three of them are widowed now and decided to go on an adventure together. I was so excited that they were coming to my house! It is usually the other way around, unless it’s a monumental occasion like a wedding.

First they flew to California where they spent a week visiting my grandma’s sisters, Barb and Elaine, who have lived in California since about the 1940s. Then they flew from California to Colorado. We took a few drives to see the mountains, ate a lot of food, played a lot of Euchre, and did a lot of talking. Since I had the three of them together at my table a lot during those few days, I took the opportunity to ask them about life during the Great Depression in rural northwest Ohio.

All three of them agreed that they didn’t notice the depression much. It didn’t really affect their way of life. The land in Wood County, Ohio is largely made of clay, and was not susceptible the dust bowl effects that occurred in other parts of the county. They all lived on farms that were mainly self-sustaining. They do not recall having many struggles. They just figured out how to live with what they had.

All three of them were school-aged during the Depression. All three of them remembered that they had a “school dress,” usually just one that they would have to change out of when they got home to save it for the next day. They received a lot of hand-me-downs for their clothes and they remember hand-making the blankets they used.

There were big gardens on their farms; all of their food was grown at home. They canned everything to stock up for the winter. They also raised cows and pigs for meat. My grandma remembers her grandmother, Martha (Meeker) Dimick raising chickens for eggs and meat. She also had an uncle, Gerald Dimick, who owned an apple orchard in Wood County.

On Saturdays my grandmother’s mother, Martha (Urban) Dimick, would get groceries in town. These consisted of things such as sugar, salt, and other things they could not make or grow on their farm. The kids would get candy and ice cream as a treat. Saturdays they had spaghetti for dinner, and Martha would usually invite someone over for dinner, typically someone from church.

They heated the house using gas but during the coldest nights, they would heat glass jars filled with water, wrap them in paper, then use them to keep their feet warm in bed. There were times when they were uncomfortable, but they didn’t seem to have too many troubles on the farms in northwest Ohio.

One thing they all agreed on was that they played a lot of cards growing up. And that is something that is still true in my family. Every time we visit we play a lot of cards. I can remember the adults playing Euchre ever since I was very small. It was one of my grandpa’s favorite pastimes. Besides being fun, it is free. I felt like one of the grown-ups when I finally understood Euchre enough to play it! I’ll never be as good at it as Wilma or my grandpa, but it is still fun nonetheless and it always opens the door to some great conversations which will enrich my genealogy for future generations’ enjoyment. If you don’t play Euchre, it’s not too late to learn. It’s for genealogy’s sake after all!