I had just returned from traveling to Croatia in April when I received the email below:
Hello,
My name is [ ]. I am a Family History consultant. For a few years I have been trying to find the parentage of Joseph Emory DeLong 1814, married to Caroline Patterson about 1844 in Portage, Livingston New York. Joseph had a son named John, before Caroline, with Meritheue.
Could I ask, have you heard of any of these names? Joseph was a Blacksmith, as were his sons with Caroline. John died in the civil war. his mother’s name is unusual but I have not found anything.
I came across this website and to a shot in the dark to enquire.
Definitely, this was a shot in the dark and I was initially confused. The email came to my website email address and not through one of my online tree messages. I hadn’t recalled writing about anyone named DeLong on my blog and the subject of the email, “I have a question about someone in Nunda.” was even more intriguing because I knew where Nunda was located, having written a report last year for a client. That wasn’t anywhere on my website, either. I thought maybe the client had given my email to the writer but no, the message said it was from my website.
I went to the website and looked for a blog I had written about the DeLong family. Nada. I had written about the Long family but they were from Indiana. The name nagged at me so I went back to the research report I had done in 2022 for the Nunda location but no DeLongs were there.
Where had I heard that name? I’m good at remembering surnames from years of researching and I knew something about this name but I couldn’t place what it was. I turned to my Ancestry.com personal tree and discovered that I did, indeed, have a DeLong in my tree. I hadn’t researched her, however, as she had married into my husband’s Harbaugh family. Here’s where it gets weird…
Born in Ohio, she relocated with her parents to the small rural Indiana county where I now live, as did her soon-to-be husband who I had extensively researched because he was part of a surname study I had done in the early 2000s. I didn’t recall he had lived in my current county. They married in the courthouse less than 5 minutes from where I live. Gave me the eebie jeebies!
How did this individual take such a wild shot at emailing me about a name that I didn’t have on my blog and I was able to connect the unique surname to someone in my personal family tree that just happened to live in the community I just moved to? The frequency of that surname in the U.S. is 1:13,755. I have no idea why the writer connected to me but her shot in the dark had a great aim.
Fountain on bottom middle. Photo by Lori Samuelson
Last week I wrote about the painting that resembled my mom in our first hotel room in Croatia. My grandmother also chose to haunt us on that trip!
We had signed up for a Gate 1 tour that began in Zagreb, Croatia and took us also to Slovenia and Monte Negro. My grandmother had visited Croatia with her singing group in the summer of 1960 and brought back the picture above of a castle. As a child, she told me the story of our family defending a castle but made it clear the castle in the wood cutout picture was not the same one. I had no idea where she bought the picture but a clue in the bottom corner said Bled.
On our third day, we arrived in Bled and sure enough, there was a castle that closely resembled the picture I inherited from my grandmother. We toured it and learned it had been built in 900 AD. We shared a glass of wine with a monk on the top floor, visited the museum with artifacts from over the centuries, and shopped in an adorable beehive-themed room that had a live beehive in the middle.
I remarked to my husband that my grandmother must have also visited this site as in the gift shop were wooden angels that resembled the type of wood used in the castle picture we have. I inquired if they had available larger wooden pictures but they no longer do.
We returned to our hotel, which had the exact same view as the one from the picture I had and I remarked to my husband it was uncanny. The only thing missing from the woodcut was a large fountain that had been in front of the lake that our hotel faced. I mentioned this to a hotel employee who told me the fountain is still there, across the street from the hotel, behind a fence. Hubby and I went on an adventure to find it. Sure enough, obscured by overgrowth, water trickled from this ancient fountain:
Photo by Lori Samuelson
I then learned that our hotel, built in 1980, had replaced a hotel that had been on the same site. Likely, we were staying on the same land that my grandmother had stayed in 1960! Nothing like following in the footsteps of your ancestors, even when they were just on vacation.
And because it’s October – here’s a night picture of the castle:
It’s Creepy October and of course, I’ve had several weird, unexplained happenings as I researched my family this past year. One of the creepiest was on April 13 when my husband and I checked into the Zagreb Croatia Sheraton and were assigned a room with the painting shown on the left. Our flight from Munich had been delayed by over 5 hours and we were exhausted when we finally made it to our hotel room. I had wanted to spend the afternoon researching at the Croatian State Archive but unfortunately, with the flight delay, that wasn’t an option. As I unzipped the suitcases to take a quick shower before we went out to explore Zagreb, my husband said,“Lor, you got to see this.” I looked up and he was pointing at the picture. I immediately noticed the resemblance to my mother. It was her birthday eve, too. It was one of those pictures whose eyes seemed to follow you wherever you went in the room. Although those Halloween pictures creep me out this one didn’t. It was comforting to think of my mom, whose parents were both from the nearby village of Dubranec from where we were staying. Pic on the right is of my mother from her communion at St. Marks Roman Catholic Church in Gary, Lake, Indiana..
Her hair darkened as she aged and she always wore it short. Her brown eyes seemed to get bigger and brighter, too. Her long face, slim nose, and lips that never smiled broadly reminded me of the painting. The white attire also caused my brain to make a connection. Of course, I had to take a picture of the picture and share it with all of you!
Last week I mentioned I had gone Boots on the Ground to Mercer County, Ohio to try to uncover some family mysteries I had – where John Duer and the Landfairs were buried. Although I got closer, I hadn’t found the location yet.
I decided after spending the day in the library to stop by the courthouse to see if I could solve some other mysteries. The first was to try to pin down when Great Uncle Charlie Landfair left Mercer for Adams County, Indiana. He is my black sheep uncle and I am just intrigued with the things that man got away with. I am contemplating writing a book but I am far from extensive research for that.
I could tell by the looks on the 3 clerks’ faces how they felt when I showed up at 3:15 pm on a Friday afternoon asking for a divorce record I wasn’t sure existed for Charles and Rebecca Landfair sometime between 1885 and 1890. The clerks silently looked at each other so I volunteered that a crazy genealogist just had to show up late on a Friday afternoon, right?!
One clerk laughed and added that she was just getting ready to leave. That left two, neither of whom was excited about this task. The youngest got an old index from a backroom and began to look for a Landfair record. I was peeking over the counter and realized quickly she had the wrong volume. I knew this because I spied my great-grandmother’s name and the record I was searching for was 30 years earlier. I asked what years the volume contained and she told me to 1890. I then told her that wasn’t the right book. She turned to the front but no date was written. Ignoring me, she continued searching for the name.
The other clerk had heard me and asked how I knew it was the wrong volume. I replied my great-grandmother‘s name led me to believe this was a volume from about 1909. The second clerk told the younger clerk to go back and check the closet. Yep, here comes the correct volume, and Uncle Charlie was found quickly.
His name in the index was found quickly there was a new issue and that was no one wanted to go into the basement to retrieve the documents. From the numbers listed, it appeared that there were a lot of documents. I offered to leave my name, phone, and address in case they wanted to do this the following week but it seemed to me they never wanted to do this. I get it; if you aren’t a genealogist why in the world would you want to climb around a dusty dark basement to find a 130+-year-old piece of paper?
The second clerk informed the younger clerk where the documents would be in the basement and she reluctantly left. Meanwhile, the second clerk asked me why I wanted the documents.
I told her that, as a genealogist, I was fascinated with the man. I knew where his horses had been buried as he had special coffins made for them but he never bothered, as a physician, to fill out a death certificate for his second of four wives. He had gone to prison for malpractice but then been pardoned by a governor. He was a nasty alcoholic who happened to walk out of jail once and no one went after him, figuring it was safer to let him sleep it off wherever he went and bring him back in the following day. He claimed to have completed medical school in Cincinnati but even the state of Indiana felt that never occurred yet they continued to let him practice. And boy, did the townsfolks love him. He had a large and thriving practice.
By this time the young clerk had returned with no papers. She had a blank look on her face and kept repeating, “It’s a mess.” I assumed she meant the basement but it turned out she meant the court case. After repeating “It’s a mess,” several times she shook her head and said she’d have to give it to me at some later date. I then left my contact info.
As I left I asked if the courthouse held tax records between 1850-1860 as I wanted to find out when John Duer and family arrived. None of these records are online. I was told that microfilm was made years ago but they are held in Pennsylvania and no one can access them. The clerks told me to ask in another office.
I went downstairs and found the clerk with her head in her hands at her desk. I told her what I wanted and she asked why I needed the records. After explaining she said, “But they’re in the basement.” Here we go again…
She did agree to allow me to go down with her after obtaining the key from another room.
The basement was the neatest, cleanest basement I’ve ever been in! Metal shelves line the walls and down the center. There is adequate lighting. The maintenance man had a neat workroom there, too.
This clerk took me over to the north wall and pointed to a set of books marked Duplicates. She said they would contain a duplicate property record as the bill is due in April, say 1850, but the assessment was made in fall 1849. If the property was paid on time then it was denoted in the Duplicate books. She tugged at a volume, ripping part of the spine. I suggested we pull a volume out from the end of the shelf. Once it was out she told me she didn’t know how I was going to page through and I asked if I could take the volume to a table we had just passed. She hadn’t noticed it. We walked to the table, and she said, “Good luck” and quickly left.
I didn’t find the Duers but I found several other ancestors listed and took as many photos with my phone as I could before the battery died. I had taken way too many pictures that day at the library!
By the time I left the basement, she was not back in her office so I couldn’t thank her. What a treasure trove that basement was! I will definitely be back but next time I’m bringing hubby and a back up camera. So many ancestors, so little time.
And those divorce records…two weeks later I got a call that they found them but they couldn’t figure out how to copy them. I asked how they copy them for others and was told no one has ever asked for a copy before. I knew that wasn’t true as I had asked for my great-grandmother’s records several years ago. I suggested that they turn the book on the copier and get half a page at a time.
Later that day I got a call from another clerk in accounts who asked me for a credit card to charge my record request. I gladly gave her the numbers.
Keeping my fingers crossed that the documents arrive soon!
Editors. Mercer County, Ohio Cemetery Inscriptions Volume VI. Celina, OH: Mercer Co. Chapter OH Genealogical Society, 1990 found at Mercer County, Ohio Public Library in Celina.
While I was in Celina, Ohio, as I mentioned last week, I found another hint about John Duer. I had blogged twice this year about my search for his final burial site.
A year ago in June, in a book in Allen County Public Library, (Editors. Mercer County, Ohio Cemetery Inscriptions Volume VI. Celina, OH: Mercer Co. Chapter OH Genealogical Society, 1990, np.) I had discovered that he might lie in row 15 of Kessler Cemetery in Ohio. The transcription simply noted “John Duer, unreadable.”
Kessler’s trustee had years ago sent me a copy of their records but row 15 was missing. Both of John’s wives were buried at Kessler, along with some of his children, so it seemed logical that the book was noting his burial location.
My husband and I went out to the cemetery in March and found what we thought might be his grave but it wasn’t in row 15. The rows are not straight so it might have been, depending on how someone counted from the newer section. I thought it looked more like 14 but there was no stone in what I considered 15 so I could see how someone might interpret the rows differently. I was overjoyed anyway with the find.
Except, it wasn’t John’s burial place. When we returned in May with cleaning supplies it became apparent that it was for a child with the same name and who just happened to die the same year my John did. Sigh.
At the Mercer County Public Library, I found another book, and this transcription was clear about what was recorded on the stone in row 15. That stone is no longer standing in Kessler. You can see the top pic of the page.
What had me totally floored is that this book has the exact same title page as the one I found in the Allen County Public Library but the contents of the book differ. One must have been updated but it doesn’t note that anywhere in the volume I found in Celina. Here’s what the page looks like for the volume in Allen County Public Library:
At this point, I decided to call it a day at the library and I headed for the courthouse.
Meanwhile, this wish remains, too, but with every find I get closer to solving this mystery.
Next week I begin my Creepy October series. By the time that concludes I can’t wait to share my courthouse experience AND the weirdest identity theft I uncovered from 1891. Stay tuned.
Honestly, I didn’t expect to find much in the Celina, Mercer, Ohio library. I spoke with one of the librarians in August and she mentioned that the collection was held in a small room, the local volunteer didn’t come to help out researchers anymore, and there had been no response from the local historical museum contact in the past year so no information on the contents of that museum was available. Not very promising information to hear and besides, the location was 1 ½ hours from my home. Still, I’ve always wanted to visit as my paternal lines were in Mercer County from the 1840s through the 1940s so I hoped that some secrets would be given up.
Hubby was off on a trip of his own so I decided to take the day to research. I wasn’t sure how long I would spend at the library and depending on what I found, I might also visit the courthouse. This was the courthouse I contacted years ago when I was searching for a divorce record for a great-grandmother. It took me 9 months to get them to send me the record and it was only after, at Christmas time, I had sent a reminder email that I had been a good genealogist all year and all I wanted for Christmas was the record. I finally received it.
I had planned to arrive at the library when they opened at 9 AM but my crazy GPS took me to a lake, instead. It was a beautiful lake but definitely wasn’t going to help me locate records so I pulled out my phone and used an alternative GPS to find the library, about 10 minutes away.
I was amazed at the wealth of the information that I discovered! Some kind soul had compiled an obituary collection of 3 x 5” cards and they were stored in the old wooden card drawers. Remember those? Arranged in alpha order by author, title, and subject. What I found was surprising as I had looked for the burial location of John Duer and Peter and Catherine Lanpher/Landfair for years and wasn’t able to find it. The obituary card listed an obit for Catherine. Wow! But there was a problem – it listed no source. So whoever typed the card likely had found one once but where did it now reside? I looked through every piece of paper in the file cabinet by surname. Scanned each shelf book by book looking for a cemetery book, church record, death index, and family genealogy – nothing was found for Catherine.
I went to look for a librarian to see if they knew what the sources for the obit cards were and was told they came from a newspaper that was on microfilm. The librarian set it up for me but alas, going forward 4 weeks for this weekly local paper, no obit appeared. The obit did not list a cemetery, which was the main interest, but I also was interested in seeing if the obit had other information that might have been left out of the card. Struck out again but I know that somewhere out there one resides and so this item remains on my wish list.
Like me, you probably have spent years searching for a document to prove an identity or relationship.
Perhaps you were looking for proof of where an individual lived between census years.
Maybe you are trying to pinpoint when a family relocated to another area.
You’ve searched high and low and after checking the regular recommendations, went as far as boots on the ground. Then you began looking in unlikely places with the hope that just maybe the record you seek will appear.
Geez, I’ve even talked to pictures of the deceased based on author and genealogist Henry Z. Jones Jr.’s books that seemed to work for some genealogists.
This year I have discovered several documents that shed light on my husband and my ancestors and I’m going to spend the next few blog posts discussing how I FINALLY have gotten closer to finding what I was looking for.
I’m beginning this series with the most unusual way I located my husband’s maternal grandmother’s family’s school records. I never saw this one coming.
Back in 2014, I began looking for Elsie’s school records because I had acquired her 8th-grade exams and certificates for school attendance and I was writing a book about her husband’s line, Perseverance Amidst Adversity.
I was living in Florida and contacted Crown Point, Indiana, the county seat of Lake County, to try to locate Elsie’s enrollment records because the family changed the spelling of their last name and I wanted to see when it evolved from Johannesson to Johnson. I was told the records were never received from Gary.
I tried calling Gary but never got a response. Their main library had been shut down for lack of funding and the messages I left at a school district office were never returned.
Looking over the documents again I realized that the program for the 8th grade graduation that I had obtained from a relative stated Elsie resided in Miller, which was an unincorporated area in 1910 when she was in school. The diploma, however, stated she was attending school in Hobart, a town southeast of Miller. I called Hobart and was told that the records had been turned over to Gary when Miller became a part of Gary in 1919. This is a good reminder that boundaries change while the person of interest never moved.
I then tried contacting the county’s library and museums. No one had the record. Next, I tried the Indiana State Archives (ISA) which is supposed to keep records for schools that are no longer in existence, IF the school district has also ceased to exist. Elsie had attended a one-room schoolhouse, long gone. ISA also keeps records for districts that are or were unable to maintain the records. They had nothing.
Obviously, I had first tried all the usual online sources and even some smaller ones, like Genweb and at that time, Rootsweb. Nothing.
So, imagine my surprise one day when I was walking through the New England Genealogical and Biographical Society in Boston and decided to look at the Indiana shelf. There was a transcription of Lake County, Indiana school records and there was an Elsie, just not mine. To be honest, I was surprised that there were two Elsie Johnsons, close in age, in the same small school district but I shouldn’t have been because Johnson is not an uncommon surname. Elsie’s record I found listed her father, who had enrolled her, along with the enrollment date. She was a few years older than my Elsie.
In 2020 I created a lecture on the importance of school records and one of my slides shows the record for “Elsie that is not related” to my husband. I include it as I reminder to attendees how there is often more than one person at the same time in the same place with the same name. I also add that I’m hopeful that one day, I’ll find the records I seek, even though I’ve been told they don’t exist.
Hope is a beautiful thing and doesn’t just work for Pandora! I never give up hope of breaking through brick walls and finding other records that will enrich the lives of my ancestors.
Earlier this year I wrote a journal article for the Indiana Genealogist on the importance of school records that was published September 1. In the article, I mention the Boston find and my hope that one day I’ll locate Elsie’s records.
This article was read by Lynn Jackson, a librarian at the Lake County Public Library. It is the same library where I began my genealogical journey in the late 1960s.
Lynn realized that the library was in the process of scanning the enrollment records for Indiana University North West. She did not find Elsie’s page, however, she did find the school enumeration records for Elsie’s half-siblings and a sister. I could not believe it!
First, I had never had someone read a journal article I wrote and took the time to search for a missing record I noted. My appreciation for this kind, knowledgeable librarian is immense! Give this lady a raise!
Second, I’m kicking myself as I had reached out to IU NW years ago, but I never asked about school records. I asked about city directories as I mentioned in another lecture on interviewing how I never clarified my grandmother’s response about where the family first lived when they moved to Gary. My grandmother responded on the corner of Washington and Ridge Road. It hadn’t dawned on me to ask which corner; obviously, there are 4 and it was between census years. I had contacted IU NW for city directories they hold but it wasn’t for the years I needed.
Thirdly, I’d like to remind you that you must reach out again to archives to verify that they don’t have the information. Perhaps they acquired what you needed after you had first checked or, like me with a past blog about mysterious John Duer, a more knowledgeable staff member will look and find the record in an unlikely place. Lynn recommended I reach out to them to see if they have further information on Elsie which is a wonderful idea.
The enumeration record found does show that Johnson was used for the family when Elsie’s older sister by one year began her school career. Yes, the information is limited but there is so much to discover even when data is not exactly what you are looking for.
The moral of the story, look everywhere, make contacts far and wide, and write a journal article. Who would have thought that?!
June 1982 Flood, St. Petersburg, Pinellas, Florida
Was watching the news and saw a drone image of the Shore Acres neighborhood of St. Pete., Florida after Hurricane Idalia went through. Looks like my old stomping grounds flooded again.
The photo above is me with our dog, Misty. The flood was unexpected and not due to a hurricane, though hurricane season had begun. It was the result of heavy rainfall and a high tide. Luckily, the water stopped before entering our home.
Hurricane Elena, September 1985
We weren’t so fortunate three years later when Hurricane Elena decided to sit offshore for two days. We lost all furniture (shown above) except for the crib, which was on high casters, and our kitchen table and chairs which were made of solid wood. Every appliance was shot – refrigerator, stove, dishwasher, washer, dryer, water heater, and air conditioner. All the flooring had to be replaced. So were the baseboards and lower part of the wallboard. That meant walls that had wallpaper had to be all redone and other walls needed to be repainted. A window had broken when a branch hit it, letting water in, and slashing the drapes. The wind whipped through the house and knocked mirrors and pictures off the walls. We had no phone or electricity for 3 weeks as we had to let the lines dry out. I don’t even like to think about the yard cleanup – dead fish, snakes, and insects hiding under the sea grass, branches, and assorted debris blown in from who knows where.
The pic below is from a different storm, Hurricane Frances. By then we had moved to Tarpon Springs. Our home was spared but a large branch of an old oak in our backyard wiped out our neighbor’s fence as it fell. Insurance didn’t cover it so we took turns with the chainsaw to cut it up, and lug it to the front, for the city to pick up. They weren’t really happy about it, either.
11 Sep 2004
My heart goes out to those who are rebuilding once again. As I mentioned above with Elena, Idalia didn’t even make landfall in the Tampa Bay area but it caused widespread damage there. That area is overdue for a 100-year storm which makes the likelihood of another disaster on the horizon increase.
I’m not trying to invoke fear; I’m trying to point out that one day the big one will arrive.
If you don’t live in Florida don’t get a smirk and think this doesn’t apply to you because it unfortunately does – fires, floods, tornadoes, derechos, hail storms, snow storms, and the list goes on, can affect you wherever you reside.
If you haven’t already planned for preserving your records you must make that your priority.
I’ve blogged about it previously and now would be a good time to review that.
In an emergency, you aren’t likely going to have time to collect and save all your items. Sometimes, all you can do is grab your keys, wallet, and phone.
Rebuilding after a loss is stressful, exhausting, and mentally painful. There’s so much to do it’s hard to know where to begin. Genealogy is not going to be your priority.
Now is the time to make sure your genealogy collection is preserved.
If you have already scanned your documents check to make sure they are all preserved. Read this blog to see why and this one to get them organized. Need help on using the Cloud? Here’s how.
Sure, things can be replaced but your lifelong work of collecting photos and records would be lost. Take the time NOW to digitize. From someone who has experienced too many hurricanes to county, you’ll be thankful.
I’m not sure if it is my location or if you, too, are experiencing difficulty in finding local archives open for use.
I blogged last year about my problem in locating someone who has a key to unlock a mausoleum where one of my husband’s great uncle is buried. I have yet to find a way inside.
I’ve tried to visit two local museums but they, too, are always closed. One has been under renovation since before the pandemic. No response when I sent a few messages on Facebook requesting information about their holdings. Another claims to be open between Memorial and Labor Day but it hasn’t been. There is a sign on the door that provides an email and a phone number for more info. The email is non-deliverable and the phone doesn’t allow for messages. I have repeatedly stopped by; a few weeks ago, a person was leaving the building as I drove up. I asked how I could arrange a time to visit and was given a different email to make a request. It happened to be a member’s work email. This individual said they would also email the member to let them know how I obtained their email address. Never got a reply. I got a tip last month that a group uses the basement weekly so I showed up and found the door open. A woman was at the entryway and I asked for information on the museum. Was told she didn’t have any. Asked for a particular individual I was told would be at the site that evening. She didn’t respond but the man did hear his name and came from an adjoining room. His story is that my email doesn’t work and couldn’t explain why he hadn’t tried the phone number I had also provided which is local. Claimed he’d contact me and would arrange for me to come and look at the archives. Still waiting.
Last week I blogged about visiting the Wells County Public Library. I tried to contact their historical museum to arrange a day/time I could visit as I’m trying to gain more info about my Great Uncle Charles Landfair. Their website directs folks to send a message through Facebook. No response.
Last summer I visited a small museum in Mercer County, Ohio. The docent recommended that I call and schedule a time to meet with a more knowledgeable area historian. The number is out of service. No one responds to the website form filler request for information.
Arggghhh!
If you are a long-time reader you know I do not give up easily. So, after a while, I try again. After a few more days I reached out to the local library; the response is usually, “Good luck with that.” They have no additional information. I then contact the Chamber of Commerce. They often don’t have any information, either.
Yes, this is frustrating but there is a bigger concern than poor Lori not finding records. What is happening to these small communities’ history? Without access, the stories of the past are being erased.
Sure, the pandemic took a toll on all of us. Membership declined. Folks got used to staying at home and haven’t got back into volunteering. Younger people weren’t always welcomed into historical groups. Many of them are too busy raising families and working to get involved.
We shouldn’t be letting roadblocks become dead ends!
Reactivating historical organizations and societies is vitally important. If the area has little interest in stepping up, then the archive holdings should be transferred to an organization that is willing to preserve the artifacts.
I know firsthand how hard it is to let go. Last year when I relocated and downsized I had no room for my family’s heirlooms. They have been passed on to family members who can use and enjoy them. I know that giving them to the next generation was wise as they are in good hands. Museums need to do the same if they do not have support to maintain the collections.
Fall is just around the corner and I’ll be posting my October blogs about the weird, unexplainable happenings that occurred while I researched over the past year soon. I typically write them down as they happen and save them to present in October. I’ve got my four done so what happened to me this week is too good to wait for a whole ‘nother year so here goes. . .
On Thursday I attended a local genealogy club event at a library. We were supposed to be researching early residents of the town for a timeline poster the library was making. This was a continuation of what we had begun the previous month.
It was pouring and cold. Yes, I know most places are under a heat dome but we were not. It was in the 60s and I don’t do cold. I considered not going but I had promised to be there so I donned my raincoat and drove off through flooded streets.
Luckily, there were two parking spaces available close to the library door. I took one and a male patron took the other. I sat for a moment debating if I should just pull my hood up or wrestle with the umbrella. It was lightning so I opted to just make a run for it as it wasn’t more than a few steps. The man chose the umbrella and was struggling to get it open without getting soaked.
I stood in the vestibule shaking off my raincoat when he approached but he was carrying items in one hand and the umbrella was in the other so he couldn’t open the door. I noticed and held it open. After some pleasantries, we went on our separate ways.
I happened to be the first to arrive so I was talking with one of the librarians about the project. She said if anyone came who needed genealogical help we’d do that first. I love helping people with their brick walls so this sounded great to me!
Moments later a woman came in with a question; how accurate are death records? She had found some inconsistencies. We talked about, how family members are often distraught by the loss of a loved one, and provide incorrect or incomplete records. I gave an example of my Maria Duer Kuhn who was born in Ohio but her son had stated she was born in Germany on her death certificate. Nope, that would be his dad. Dad had been active in the immigrant community so Maria had an obituary in both the English and local German newspapers. Her son was just confused at the time of her death.
Next, the umbrella man arrived; those papers he had been carrying were death certificates for two of his Hull ancestors and he was stymied by the oldest which stated that the deceased had been born in Virginia. He could find no records in Virginia for this man.
I pointed out that the northwest territory had once been assigned to Virginia and that at the time of the man’s birth, the late 1700s, it was possible that the named location was somewhere else but under that jurisdiction. Seriously, once upon a time, in what is now Indiana, deeds were to be presented to Williamsburg, Virginia. Crazy, huh?!
I asked him if he had looked at online family trees for clues, warning him about unsourced or poorly sourced trees. He hadn’t. I brought up Ancestry but my personal version since the library edition that is available doesn’t give patrons the option to search public member trees.
I knew I had a few Hulls in my tree as my Revolutionary War patriot, John Duer’s sister married a Hull. I figured a lot of people would have the Hulls in their tree as it sounds to me like a common name.
Imagine my surprise when I looked at public trees and discovered my tree contained the information he needed.
Umm, yes, we were distant cousins. I then brought up FamilySearch.org so he could see the will which named parents and siblings. I’ve complained about that will for YEARS as my John’s will omit his deceased children and I wished that he had done the same as his brother-in-law – named everyone.
I then showed him I’d taken the Duers back to Merry Ole England and that he was eligible for several lineage societies. He had no idea and needed time to process this. Nothing like showing up in a downpour with two documents and leaving in the sunshine with hundreds more already nicely packaged for you.
But that’s not all. I decided to stop at another library on my way home to look at a book that the deceased author’s daughter had emailed me about that might be of help for a cemetery project I’m working on with a local high school. I went directly to the librarian and told him I didn’t have the name of the book but knew the author and publisher’s date. He found it for me in seconds. Yes, it had EXACTLY what I was looking for. Pleased, I put the book on the cart to be refiled. Then I stopped at the cemetery but no one was in the office. Sigh.
I didn’t check my email until I got home but I could hear it pinging. Sure enough, an email, related to what I had just accomplished.
It was sent by the author’s daughter while I was in the library. She had pulled out the copy she owned and sent me a list of former residents I could use in the cemetery tour. While reading the email I got a call from a friend and fellow member of our local genealogy society. A few minutes after I left the library she had arrived with the intent on looking at the same book as she had read in the newspaper that a barn was being moved from a neighboring county to our county to use for horses during the fair. The barn was coming from one of her great uncle’s farms. That family had lived in our county but relocated to a neighboring county in the 1800s. She remembered while reading the article she had intended to confirm a burial date on the now unreadable stone for this several times great aunt buried in our county.
When she arrived at the library she couldn’t find the book on the shelf so she went to the librarian and he told her Lori Samuelson had just used it. They went to the cart and there it was, right where I left it to be reshelved. See, they know me well in this library and I always return the items to the cart for reshelving as that is their policy.
Moral of the story – genealogical connections are integral and coincidences are icing on the cake. Were my Duer ancestors and the local deceased author giving us a nudge? Possibly though I can’t prove that. Sometimes we just need to appreciate the findings, however, they occurred.
