"...to seek and to find the past, a lineage, a history, a family built on a flesh and bone foundation."

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Tuesday's Tip: Family History: The problem of researching from the outside in...

The wilderness of The Burren, County Clare.  Bob's family history is somewhere out there.
Just before last Christmas I was contacted by a gentleman, whom I'll call Bob, writing about his Irish family history research, a project of over thirty years in duration. His research has finally culminated in his uncovering the names of his great-great grandparents. I have his permission to share this story as long as the "real names" are excluded.  With a thank you to Bob, and a change of names to protect the guilty innocent, here are the details of our interaction.

The problem is that instead of researching from the 'inside out', as I like to call it, Bob conducted  research which brought him to these great-great grandparents from the 'outside in'.  Unfortunately, research from the 'outside in' often involves a famous person found via 'new' media, using sources such as unreliable, and usually unsourced, online genealogies, or as in this case, a biography. The person bears the same surname as the researcher in question, so the researcher then attempts to prove a connection by working from the famous person outside the family tree in toward the researcher's family members, instead of the other way around.

Bob found a biography written about an historical figure — whom I refer to hereafter as 'FM' — who was born in the same Irish county as Bob's ancestors, and bears the same surname as his family. Bob has not only decided he is related to FM, but related in a very specific way.

Apparently, I frustrated Bob when I asked if he can prove the line connecting from him, through his parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents to FM, whom he says is his great-granduncle, the brother of his great-grandfather 'Thomas'.

Bob called me 'picky'.

Bob explained that he has a gut feeling that his great-grandfather Thomas and FM were 'probably brothers'. Probably brothers? A gut feeling? 'Do you have documentary evidence of any kind which can show the connection?', I asked.   'No', came the reply, 'but I do have lots of information about FM.'.

Big trouble or miracle of birth?

The facts as they stand:

1. Bob is very fortunate to have the 1849 immigration record which details the arrival of his great-grandfather Thomas, Thomas's wife, and their two daughters, elder sisters of Bob's grandfather. Bob's grandfather was born in the United States. Given the date of 1849 I am already wondering a little about this as it relates to his grandfather; however, I have no idea how old Bob is, so...

2. Although Bob has no birth record for his great-grandfather Thomas, he has surmised that Thomas was born in Ireland about 1800/1801, because on the immigration record Thomas's recorded age is given as 48 years. (Note: the recorded age on such a document is not always strictly accurate.)

3. The biography indicates FM was born in Ireland in 1845, and FM had one brother who survived to adulthood.

4. Again, without a record, Bob says his great-grandfather Thomas and FM were brothers, born of the same mother.

If Thomas and FM are siblings born of the same mother, and if the recorded immigration age is even close to correct, then this means that they were born about 45 years apart. Even if their mother gave birth to Thomas when she was 13 years old, FM would have been born when she was 58. FM's biography makes no mention of a forty-five year age difference between him and his brother. As much as we might be tempted to stretch credulity, I'm afraid Mother Nature might say those numbers really don't add up.

Bigger Trouble: The Name Game

In his biography FM speaks of his brother Francis who immigrated to the United States. Bob's claim, as outlined above, is that FM's brother Francis and Bob's great-grandfather Thomas are the same person.

On the manifest of the ship on which Bob's family members emigrated, his great-grandfather's forename is recorded as Thomas; however, FM's brother's name is Francis. Why does Bob assume Thomas and Francis are the same person? Bob says Thomas probably changed his forename to Francis when he arrived in the United States.

Questions from me:

'How do you know he changed his name?'
'Do you have any documents on which your great-grandfather used the forename, or middle name, Francis?'
'Did he ever use the forename, or middle name, Francis for business purposes or for purposes of any kind?'
'Did anyone ever hear your great-grandfather use the name Francis?'

Answers from Bob:

'No, I don't have any documents or any other information with his name as Francis.'
'My great-grandfather always used the forename Thomas, but Francis is the name of FM's brother.'

Tempted by Fame?

It may very well be the case that Bob's family is connected to FM, and I have encouraged Bob to continue his search to find the connection if there is one. However, ignoring the evidence he actually possesses in favour of making connections where there is no evidence doesn't make sense to me.

Sometimes the brick walls of our family history research can make us feel as though we are wandering in the wilderness of the Burren, and at such times we may find it tempting to glom onto a recognizable surname, and tack together a family tree which includes someone famous. However, to do so does a great injustice to those members of our family who struggled along the way to create a life which ultimately resulted in our own existence.

So... how do we save ourselves from going down this path?

Since this is a Tuesday's Tips post, the crux of the matter is this: We find those truly connected to us, whether rich or poor, famous or infamous, by old fashioned detective work, and the same old questions. It's not sexy, but it works. So, we need to ask:

Who are my parents?
Who were their parents, my grandparents?
Who were their parents, my great-grandparents?
Who were their parents, my great-great-grandparents?

and so on...

Collateral research of the siblings of those to whom we are directly connected is a very valuable tool, but it must be used with a caveat. We have to be able to prove the sibling relationship, not just assume it. Also, dates and names have to make sense. Whether we like it or not, they have to fit.

In my own work I used collateral research on my Magee line. This enabled me to trace the line out of County Dublin into County Antrim, where my great-grandfather Magee was born, into County Louth and then back into County Dublin; however, all of my research is documented, without any gaps, and without trying to make names fit where they don't. Gut instinct, or intuition if you prefer it, can be very helpful as well, but a feeling without a record is not proof of anything.

©irisheyesjgg.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

'The Irish aboard Titanic': Book Review

With the 100th anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic close at hand, Mercier Press have once again published Senan Molony's landmark book, The Irish aboard Titanic. While other books on Titanic focus on the foundering of the spectacular ship, and the loss of the rich and famous, Molony shares the history of those Irish passengers and crew members whose names might not ordinarily see the light of day, those whom we might find on our own family trees.

Senan Molony has been meticulous in his research, uncovering not just stories of bravery and bravado on the night of the sinking, but also revealing personal details about these individuals and their families, through letters, interviews, census documents, White Star Line records, newspaper reports, and family recollections. Particularly moving are the accounts of the traumatic impact the sinking had on the lives of those who survived, as well as on the families of those who perished.

I received this book on Monday and, although I do not have any ancestors who were on the Titanic, I could not put it down.  Especially compelling are the stories of young people full of hope who were headed to the new world, drawn by the dream of a better life.  Many were travelling at the urging of family members who had already emigrated, and some were travelling on pre-paid tickets sent home by those who awaited their arrival in North America.

One such passenger, Catherine Buckley, was urged by her elder sister Margaret to leave their native Cork, and travel to her in Massachusetts.  After her sister was lost on Titanic, Margaret paid dearly, shunned by their parents and labelled a murderer for in effect luring Catherine to her death, by urging her to travel to the United States.  There were also Irish on Titanic who had already emigrated, and were heading back to the Americas after visiting with family, having shared the delight of their success in the new world.  All of their stories are here, in histories which detail both the glorious and the ignoble, the joyous and the heartbreaking.

Senan Molony ends this excellent book with an extract from Lawrence Bessley's The Loss of The SS Titanic, with words which speak to a journey into darkness that none of those aboard could have foreseen,

"...the last we saw of Europe were the Irish mountains, dim and faint in the dropping darkness."

If you are interested in learning the extraordinary history of those ordinary Irish who travelled on Titanic, then I highly recommend you add this book to your collection.





Wednesday, February 1, 2012

The story in a car window

What is it that makes a family?  Who does a family include?
Sometimes when I drive behind mini vans I notice graphics in the window, cartoon pictures telling us who usually rides in that mini van: Father, Mother, child, child, dog, dog, cat.  A Family.  Some families don't fit the usual prescription.  Some have no father, some no mother, some have two fathers, some two mothers, some have lots of children, and some have no children at all.  If we had the little graphics that the mini van people always seem to have, it would show Father, Mother, dog, dog.  When you see the mini vans, the cartoon figures don't tell you what is going on in the family, only who is a part of the family.  If someone dies, I wonder, do they ever peel one of the graphics off the window?


One of our family is dying, our girl Sarah.  Sarah is our five year old Silky Terrier.  She is 'only a dog' some of you may be thinking, but to us she is a member of our family.  Sarah has a little brother, a 'half' brother, named Ulee, same mother, different father, but if we had graphics on our car window they wouldn't tell you that.
Neither would the graphics tell you that Sarah came into our lives at a time when she was desperately needed, and we doted on her.  She was given the best food, the best veterinary care, the longest walks, a pool, a wardrobe of leads, harnesses, and coats for the winter.  At times the human members of our extended family would sigh and roll their eyes at us, because after all she was 'only a dog'.
Sarah was born on 27 April 2006 at 2:30 am.  Her breeder called us early the next morning to tell us there were only two puppies in the litter, Sarah and her sister.  We would be allowed to visit them in two weeks, and then again at six weeks.  We could take one of them home when they were around ten weeks old, depending on how they were developing.  Sarah is a purebred Australian Silky Terrier, born into the home of what was then one of only two fully accredited Silky Terrier breeders in Canada, a breeder who produced only two litters per year, and usually only every second year.  Marg didn't make a lot of money in the breeding business, and she is now retired, but she was very serious about it.  Sarah is a 'true' Australian Silky, and has a pedigree that goes all the way back to Australia.  We have her family tree with her parents, grandparents, and great grandparents listed, with many champions among them.

Sarah's breeder thought we would raise her as a show dog, but we only wanted to bring her home, to be a 'regular' dog, to be part of our family.  Sarah's registered name is a long one, that is how it works in the world of purebred dogs, but the first part of it is 'Sarah Jessica Barker'.  We call her Sarah, and like so many of you who have pets, we also have a host of nicknames for our girl: 'Saree Boo', 'Bunna', 'Pretty Girl', 'Lovie'.
Sarah has been a wonderful traveller, right from the very beginning, and has been a big part of many road trips with us. She has walked the streets of New York City, and has stayed in hotels in which she was a staff favorite.   Sarah has a smile, and a warmth, that just draws people to her, and she loves to kiss faces.  Silky Terriers as a breed are known for their 'joie de vive', joy of life, and Sarah has that in spades.  Sarah also has an amazing capacity for empathy, is drawn to people who seem sad, and does her best to draw them out of their sadness.  Just like her brother, she is also a very funny little dog, and sometimes does things that make us howl with laughter.  She is an amazing little dog.
A few days ago we noticed Sarah was not quite herself.  She was not eating as she usually does, had an upset stomach at times, and was very low energy.  On Monday morning we called our Vets and took her in to see them.  Sarah's care has always been in the hands of a husband and wife team of Veterinary doctors, Dr. Stuart and Dr. Sarah, who dote on Sarah and Ulee almost as much as we do.
We expected Sarah had a bug of some kind, but during a thorough examination, Dr. Stuart found a lump in Sarah's abdomen that had never been there before.  He took x-rays which did not make the mass immediately apparent, but said he wanted to send us to a large animal hospital in Oakville , a town just west of Toronto, so that Sarah could have an ultrasound.  "It will be expensive", he said, "and it may just be a fluke; they may find nothing."   Dr. Stuart seemed very troubled, and so we loaded our little family into our car and headed to Oakville.  Along the way we reassured ourselves, convinced that they would find nothing which could not be easily solvable, with a little bit of medicine and some quiet time, after all Sarah is only five, going on six years old.
Truth be told we didn't like the first doctor at the hospital.  His manner was very clinical.  He skeptically viewed the x-rays, and said it was probably nothing, but they would run a battery of tests and go ahead with the ultrasound "if we wanted to". We trust Dr. Stuart's wisdom and expertise, and he had sent us there, so "yes, we do want all the tests and the ultrasound" was our reply.  We had to sign papers, absolving them of practically all responsibility in the event of 'anything', and I wondered when did everyone become so litigious?
We played with Ulee while we waited for the tests to be done on Sarah, and decided that it was probably something minor and all would be well.  When the internist came back into the room he seemed upbeat and happily announced, "well your vet was right, there is a large mass and not only that but all the lymph nodes are involved".

In that moment I felt as though I was falling backward in time, into another place, and another completely unexpected diagnosis of terminal cancer for a human member of my family.  We were absolutely stunned.  The next few hours brought more tests for further evaluation and confirmation, and eventually we were sent home without Sarah, but with an appointment in hand to see an oncologist the next day.  
During the night I could not sleep, tormented by the idea that I must have done something wrong to make this happen, and I called the hospital a couple of times to check on our girl.  They said she was resting comfortably, with an i.v. drip, and pain medication helping her.
I do not want to tell you any more about Monday night, or even the hours of Tuesday, and the oppressive darkness that has descended over our lives, just that when we came home the second day we had a confirmed diagnosis of intestinal lymphoma, an extremely aggressive and quickly developing cancer.  The oncologist assured us that we had done nothing wrong.  "It is just the luck of the draw", she said.  "Luck?", I thought, luck had nothing to do with it.
Our little Sarah, our Silky Terrier, will have chemotherapy to make her feel better, and if it improves her state of being we will be allowed to bring her home on Friday.  Her little brother Ulee knows something is wrong, and he sniffs her and kisses her face so gently, it is heartbreaking.

Sarah will die; that is an absolute certainty, but her quality of life will be good, no matter what the length of its duration.  In a little while our family will be minus one, but when we drive around no one will know, because the little cartoon graphic which will be on our car window will never change.


(4 April, 2012: Our beautiful girl is gone)
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