Recently in Research stories Category
For years I suffered from what I'm going to call "tunnel vision."
I looked for marriage records in the area that the family lived. And for years I had problems with the Howard/Helms side of the family in finding marriage records. Here's what happened when I expanded my search. For starters you need to understand the western PA, WV, Ohio borders. I've cobbled together a map, here. My trouble was finding marriage records for the family members. Well, after 20 some years, here they are:
My great-grandparents: Malvern Howard and Ray Welsh (both born and raised in PA) were married 28 Feb 1917 in Wellsburg, WV.
My great-great grandparents James E. Howard and Elizabeth G. Helms (both born and raised Marshall Co., WV near Moundsville, WV, lived their adult lives in the Pittsburgh, PA area) married Dec. 23, 1889 in Belmont County, Ohio. I never thought to look in Ohio, until 2010!
I looked for marriage records in the area that the family lived. And for years I had problems with the Howard/Helms side of the family in finding marriage records. Here's what happened when I expanded my search. For starters you need to understand the western PA, WV, Ohio borders. I've cobbled together a map, here. My trouble was finding marriage records for the family members. Well, after 20 some years, here they are: My great-grandparents: Malvern Howard and Ray Welsh (both born and raised in PA) were married 28 Feb 1917 in Wellsburg, WV.
My great-great grandparents James E. Howard and Elizabeth G. Helms (both born and raised Marshall Co., WV near Moundsville, WV, lived their adult lives in the Pittsburgh, PA area) married Dec. 23, 1889 in Belmont County, Ohio. I never thought to look in Ohio, until 2010!
Her parents (3-G grandparents) George W. Helms and Eliza J. Arnold (born Ohio, died Marshall County, WV) have a marriage record listed in Greene County, PA for George Hellums and Eliza Jane Arnold on June 11, 1843.
So the Ohio ancestors married in PA, the WV grandparents married in Ohio, and the PA folks married in WV. Please, please, please ... stop eloping across the state line!
So the Ohio ancestors married in PA, the WV grandparents married in Ohio, and the PA folks married in WV. Please, please, please ... stop eloping across the state line!
For context to this post you should watch this commercial--
Now you know what I mean when I say "My rock stars aren't like your rock stars."
Now you know what I mean when I say "My rock stars aren't like your rock stars."
Last week I was at a three-day program at the New England Historical and Genealogical Society, arguably the East-coast Mecca for genealogists. Let me just say that this program was fantastic! Organized by Josh Taylor, it was well-constructed; it mixed informative lectures with lots of time for personal research and consultations with their VERY helpful staff. I had no less than five professional genealogists helping me with my research throughout the program. And here's a big shout out to "rock stars" Julie Otto, Rhonda McClure, Judy Lucey, David Lambert, and Gary Boyd Roberts for their help and guidance. Gary especially didn't quit with the participants until he got them to someone notable. In my case a few royal Plantagenet lines that I didn't know about.
I highly recommend this program to any genealogist, and especially those with New England roots.
For most genealogists these days, our research revolves around the Internet. Since I work for Penn State's on-line education my whole life usually revolves around the Internet. But as thrilled as I am with the Internet and the new resources becoming available every day, I still love just taking a research trip (even when the ancestors aren't mine!).
Interestingly, I usually do plenty of research before a trip and gather family sheet information from my database, cemetery information and maps from the web, and then set upon my quest. A few weeks ago, I agreed to accompany a friend on one of her research trips. As we had to travel 2 hours to our destination it gave me time ask a few basic questions like what our goals were for the day.
She wanted to find her GG grandmother's grave and her GG grandfathers grave. She knew they were in two different cemeteries, her GG grandfather having remarried and moved after the death of his first wife.
We arrive in Chambersburg, PA and S. directs me to turn right. I ask why and then see a yarn shop in front of me. "Oh, that's why." S. points out that not only is it a fabulous yarn shop (she's a knitter) but that "old women hang out in yarn shops", and this is probably a good place to start asking.
One of the women taking a yarn class that Friday morning does indeed know where the Frey family farm is and gives us directions to the only cemetery she knows of on that road. We get there, and it's not the right one. But a chat with a Mennonite woman from across the street, puts us on our way to the Frey dairy farm. We stop and the farm and look for someone to ask if there is a family plot on the farm. On the farm a phone call from hired help to the owner tells us that the the current "Frey family farm" has only been here for two generations. For something in the mid-1800's we should head to the other side of town. We get directions to another cemetery, and head off once again.
At the next stop we do not find our goal Elizabeth Stauffer Swartz wife of Henry Swartz; but we do very unexpectedly find Henry Swartz's mother. Anna Swartz Frey (twice married). Not only that her headstone says she is the daughter of Joseph Martin and Elizabeth Miller. I LOVE tombstones with that kind of information! Imagine my friends excitement to get another generation back. I was completely in awe of a headstone that told us wife of (both husband's names), daughter of (parents names) and mother of (etc...) Yet we were still disappointed at not being able to find the one grave we actually came looking for. Enter the man who lives next door, he's the keeper of the small cemetery, only about 20 graves. And he tells us that yes, this was the original Frey family farm and this would be considered "Frey Family Farm" cemetery but that there are three family plots on the huge original homestead. Maybe our Elizabeth is in one of the others and we again get directions and proceed on for about another mile. And there she is nestled in the plot that is along Grand Point Road. It took only 2.5 hours total and six very helpful and friendly people!
We came away from the day with new genealogy information for S. and a story for all time of what all the best detectives call the "leg work."
Interestingly, I usually do plenty of research before a trip and gather family sheet information from my database, cemetery information and maps from the web, and then set upon my quest. A few weeks ago, I agreed to accompany a friend on one of her research trips. As we had to travel 2 hours to our destination it gave me time ask a few basic questions like what our goals were for the day.
She wanted to find her GG grandmother's grave and her GG grandfathers grave. She knew they were in two different cemeteries, her GG grandfather having remarried and moved after the death of his first wife.
Me: "So where is GG Grandma buried?"
S: "It says here she was buried on the Frey family farm in Franklin County."
Me: " Did you do some internet research? Do we have directions to this cemetery?"
S: "No, we're women. We can stop and ask."
Me: Stunned. I say nothing. I think to myself, 'Do you really think random people are going to know where the Frey family farm was in 1856?'
We arrive in Chambersburg, PA and S. directs me to turn right. I ask why and then see a yarn shop in front of me. "Oh, that's why." S. points out that not only is it a fabulous yarn shop (she's a knitter) but that "old women hang out in yarn shops", and this is probably a good place to start asking.
One of the women taking a yarn class that Friday morning does indeed know where the Frey family farm is and gives us directions to the only cemetery she knows of on that road. We get there, and it's not the right one. But a chat with a Mennonite woman from across the street, puts us on our way to the Frey dairy farm. We stop and the farm and look for someone to ask if there is a family plot on the farm. On the farm a phone call from hired help to the owner tells us that the the current "Frey family farm" has only been here for two generations. For something in the mid-1800's we should head to the other side of town. We get directions to another cemetery, and head off once again.
At the next stop we do not find our goal Elizabeth Stauffer Swartz wife of Henry Swartz; but we do very unexpectedly find Henry Swartz's mother. Anna Swartz Frey (twice married). Not only that her headstone says she is the daughter of Joseph Martin and Elizabeth Miller. I LOVE tombstones with that kind of information! Imagine my friends excitement to get another generation back. I was completely in awe of a headstone that told us wife of (both husband's names), daughter of (parents names) and mother of (etc...) Yet we were still disappointed at not being able to find the one grave we actually came looking for. Enter the man who lives next door, he's the keeper of the small cemetery, only about 20 graves. And he tells us that yes, this was the original Frey family farm and this would be considered "Frey Family Farm" cemetery but that there are three family plots on the huge original homestead. Maybe our Elizabeth is in one of the others and we again get directions and proceed on for about another mile. And there she is nestled in the plot that is along Grand Point Road. It took only 2.5 hours total and six very helpful and friendly people!
We came away from the day with new genealogy information for S. and a story for all time of what all the best detectives call the "leg work."
As I mentioned in part 1 of this story, I began armed with this bit of information from my grandmother, They were the "Howards of Virginia, wealthy and important." Visions of southern plantations waft through my brain. When I finally got an official copy of James E. Howard's death certificate which gave his birthplace as West Virginia, I was a lot less impressed. True, that my grandmother didn't really lie, after all, when he was born in 1859 there was no West Virginia it was just Virginia. However, I now had to put away visions of southern gentility and replace it with a more realistic vision of the hard-scrabble, oft-feuding, mountain-folk.
To find out even more I decided that a trip to Marshall County, West Virginia was in order. So I left my husband with the family car and the kids and took his pickup off for a weekend in West Virginia. The trip to Marshall County was a story in itself and really why we should all get out there at times to dig for our roots rather than just sitting and researching at our computers.
Sure at the courthouse I found wills, records, etc... but I found so much more...politics... geography... and beauty.
First politics: A trip to the local historical society gleaned the names of a few John Howards (my 4th great grandfather) buried in the area. I asked one of the volunteers for directions to the Howard Cemetery in Cameron. I got a chuckle and a follow up question. "Which Howard Cemetery, the Howard Republican Cemetery or the Howard Democratic Cemetery?" At this point I was flabberghasted, there are TWO different cemeteries for the same HOWARD family, separated in distance by about a half mile apart but apparently worlds apart politically. During the drive I couldn't help but wonder what a post-Civil War family must have been like; to have such deep-seated political wounds as to not want to be buried in the same cemetery. Quite the family feud indeed!
Geography: Now let me set a scene for you, I grew up in the Allegheny Mountains of Pennsylvania, and WV has the exact same mountain range, it's all Appalachia. But I'd never been to West Virginia before. The first observation I made was that here in PA, all the roads are at the base of the mountains. OK, new highways may be at the top, but old roads that lead to real villages tend to follow the creeks and rivers, with tiny dirt roads leading up into the mountains. In short, you get used to driving along in PA and looking up at the mountains. After driving in WV for a while I began to notice that I was driving on roads that were at the top of mountains and I was constantly looking down and the little dirt roads led down into the hollows. That alone set me up for a surreal experience.
I arrived at the Democratic Cemetery first at the top of a hill. There were some folks who I thought were probably cousins, but no stones that seemed to be any direct relations, so I moved on to the Republican Cemetery down the dirt road that lead to the ravine. I got to the bottom and what was there, well... pretty much a swamp. With a cemetery on one of it's banks. I put the pickup into park at the end of the dirt road, and got out. Squish! My foot was now covered in mud. Furthermore I noticed that the tires seemed to be pretty mired in mud as well. Next something LARGE that I glimpsed out of the corner of my eye, slipped into the pond that formed the center of this seeming swamp. I shuddered, I didn't want to know! After not finding my 4th-great grandfather's grave in this cemetery either, I climbed back into the pickup and at first went nowhere, just spun in the mud. There was no cell phone service, my truck was stuck in the middle of a swamp and I remember thinking that I would die right there and I'd have to be buried with the "poor relations" after all if they'd been better off surely they could have been buried up on the hill! Anyway, 4-wheel drive and some luck did get me back out.
Absolute beauty: After my mud experience I still tried many more cemeteries. Though I never did find my 4th great-grandfather HOWARD, I did find the tombstone for my 4th-great grandfather James LAUGHLIN (1796-1873) in Rock Lick, WV. At the time, I couldn't conclusively prove that he was my grandfather, frankly I still can't but as I stood over his tombstone, the sun broke through the clouds and the most beautiful rainbow appeared. That rainbow continued to follow me for the rest of the day and back to the hotel. Coincidence, sure. But I like to think that it was great-grandpa smiling at someone who'd found him -- someone who's blood, and someone who cares. :-)
To find out even more I decided that a trip to Marshall County, West Virginia was in order. So I left my husband with the family car and the kids and took his pickup off for a weekend in West Virginia. The trip to Marshall County was a story in itself and really why we should all get out there at times to dig for our roots rather than just sitting and researching at our computers.
Sure at the courthouse I found wills, records, etc... but I found so much more...politics... geography... and beauty.
First politics: A trip to the local historical society gleaned the names of a few John Howards (my 4th great grandfather) buried in the area. I asked one of the volunteers for directions to the Howard Cemetery in Cameron. I got a chuckle and a follow up question. "Which Howard Cemetery, the Howard Republican Cemetery or the Howard Democratic Cemetery?" At this point I was flabberghasted, there are TWO different cemeteries for the same HOWARD family, separated in distance by about a half mile apart but apparently worlds apart politically. During the drive I couldn't help but wonder what a post-Civil War family must have been like; to have such deep-seated political wounds as to not want to be buried in the same cemetery. Quite the family feud indeed!
Geography: Now let me set a scene for you, I grew up in the Allegheny Mountains of Pennsylvania, and WV has the exact same mountain range, it's all Appalachia. But I'd never been to West Virginia before. The first observation I made was that here in PA, all the roads are at the base of the mountains. OK, new highways may be at the top, but old roads that lead to real villages tend to follow the creeks and rivers, with tiny dirt roads leading up into the mountains. In short, you get used to driving along in PA and looking up at the mountains. After driving in WV for a while I began to notice that I was driving on roads that were at the top of mountains and I was constantly looking down and the little dirt roads led down into the hollows. That alone set me up for a surreal experience.
I arrived at the Democratic Cemetery first at the top of a hill. There were some folks who I thought were probably cousins, but no stones that seemed to be any direct relations, so I moved on to the Republican Cemetery down the dirt road that lead to the ravine. I got to the bottom and what was there, well... pretty much a swamp. With a cemetery on one of it's banks. I put the pickup into park at the end of the dirt road, and got out. Squish! My foot was now covered in mud. Furthermore I noticed that the tires seemed to be pretty mired in mud as well. Next something LARGE that I glimpsed out of the corner of my eye, slipped into the pond that formed the center of this seeming swamp. I shuddered, I didn't want to know! After not finding my 4th-great grandfather's grave in this cemetery either, I climbed back into the pickup and at first went nowhere, just spun in the mud. There was no cell phone service, my truck was stuck in the middle of a swamp and I remember thinking that I would die right there and I'd have to be buried with the "poor relations" after all if they'd been better off surely they could have been buried up on the hill! Anyway, 4-wheel drive and some luck did get me back out.
Absolute beauty: After my mud experience I still tried many more cemeteries. Though I never did find my 4th great-grandfather HOWARD, I did find the tombstone for my 4th-great grandfather James LAUGHLIN (1796-1873) in Rock Lick, WV. At the time, I couldn't conclusively prove that he was my grandfather, frankly I still can't but as I stood over his tombstone, the sun broke through the clouds and the most beautiful rainbow appeared. That rainbow continued to follow me for the rest of the day and back to the hotel. Coincidence, sure. But I like to think that it was great-grandpa smiling at someone who'd found him -- someone who's blood, and someone who cares. :-)
As I've mentioned before, the detective work inherent in genealogy research is one of the things I enjoy and the thrill of uncovering a juicy story is equaled by the thrill of finding the next generation back. When I started my grandmother had most of her genealogy already done, back 9 or 10 generations in most cases, so there wasn't a lot to discover on my own for that side of the family. Luckily, I had three other grandparents who didn't know (or maybe didn't care). In any case, there were lots of unknown ancestors to find! And find I did. However, after 20 years of research the new finds are fewer and farther between. We get so far on a line and hit our "brick walls" and they remain that way for years. But this past weekend, one of those walls moved!
I found a death certificate for my 3rd great-grandfather Charles C. Parsons; it listed his parents names (including mother's maiden name!)- Joseph Parsons and Julia Safford. I just want to say, I love those anal-retentive New Englander's who felt the need to document everything that ever happened in their town. My Pennsylvania ancestors, were born, married, and died and nobody official ever took note.
So here's to my 4th-great grandparents - Joseph and Julia. So far that's all I have but I look forward to finding out more about them in months (maybe years) to come.
I found a death certificate for my 3rd great-grandfather Charles C. Parsons; it listed his parents names (including mother's maiden name!)- Joseph Parsons and Julia Safford. I just want to say, I love those anal-retentive New Englander's who felt the need to document everything that ever happened in their town. My Pennsylvania ancestors, were born, married, and died and nobody official ever took note.
So here's to my 4th-great grandparents - Joseph and Julia. So far that's all I have but I look forward to finding out more about them in months (maybe years) to come.
