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Thursday, January 20, 2011

The Ghosts In My Computer


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My mom was interested in tracing our family lineage and started working on it a year or so ago. She used a popular online site but found it was above her basic computer comfort level. So it remained untouched until the holidays. During the holiday season our thoughts naturally turned to family, past and present, and we also recalled recent losses. As we age our family historians pass on and sometimes they don't leave behind records we need. We should all take better care of our family histories but sometimes we don't get to it until we retire. Probably not a good plan given memory issues. So we both decided I should dig in since I’m one of the youngsters in the family (at 65) and I have now taken over the task. Oh, boy.
I should clarify that I’m enjoying working on our family history even though I groaned a bit in the first paragraph. I have quite a few documents my paternal aunt gave me a few years ago and with online research and the genealogy website search choices I have been amazed how quickly I’ve populated my family tree. But I think I may enjoy it too much. It’s addictive. So addictive that a friend told me a story about one of her family members.
The friend’s relative, a gentleman, liked ancestry research so much his wife physically removed his computer—and hid it. I’m not there yet but I can see how that could happen. I don't have a spouse so one day years from now I may be found at my desk shriveled up and dried out like a mummy, with an old sepia photo of my great, great, grandfather eerily glowing at me from my computer screen. That’s how addictive it is.
I started as we all do with the immediate family. As I completed all the spaces new “suggestions” would appear. Sometimes I could tell instantly they were my ancestors but sometimes I had to dig. Suggestions and other similar pop ups are just that--suggestions. At first I occasionally picked the wrong person and learned later that person was not an ancestor. It’s up to the researcher to determine if the people appearing on the pages are family members. The computer merely “suggests.” And that’s when the addiction set in. The pop-ups kept going and going and going and going. I’ve now gone back so far I think I might be at Adam and Eve. Not sure. I’ll have to check my notes.
My mother’s family all came to California from Portugal’s Azores. My first fun surprise was about a grandfather who was a merchant seaman who hopped ship outside San Luis Obispo and swam ashore. Our family’s illegal alien. What courage and how scary. I’m proud to be descended from such a brave man. That was my first surprise discovery though mom and I had discussed his arrival and we knew some of the story. These ancestors married other European immigrants when they arrived but mostly they stayed within the Portuguese community. I have traced us back to four generations of California born folks, descendants of the ship-jumper. That’s pretty good for California-born people unless one is a Native American or a Mexican American who were here first. Most of my friends weren’t born here and they are all in their 50s and 60s. I’m a fourth generation Californian. I’ll sign autographs on demand. My mom’s American history stops at that point.
My father’s family is huge. We go back to before the American Revolution. That’s a lot of lineage. In fact, we own a farm in Virginia that has been in the family since that time. My family is still living there on the farm. So we’ve been here a while. My aunt did an amazing job finding all of these people but she did it the hard way many years ago. Visiting countless courthouses and libraries and consulting with genealogy experts and begging relatives for Bibles and spent a lot of time on it. She ended up with a hefty stack of folders filled with our family records.
My next surprise discovery after my ship-jumping ancestor was to learn that we are blood relatives to Davy Crockett. I’m still trying to figure out the bloodline as opposed to the marriage line. It blurs sometimes. But we have Crockett’s bulging folder and I have to dig through it when the sun comes up because artificial lighting isn’t doing it for me with these old records and fancy handwriting.
Let’s also remember that some of our more humble ancestors were not scholars. Some of the names are spelled in what can only be described as gibberish and some of the “information” must have been dictated to someone writing by candlelight with a bad wick. The genealogy site knows that and they search for countless variations of common names. I found six spellings for Catherine and had to research each one to find the one I needed. That includes endless typos. And Catherine was a popular name so I have more of that coming my way. Also, our ancestors were fond of naming each generation like the last generation. John Sr., Jr., I, II, III, or then after many years of that they switch to John as a middle name and on it goes. John Catherine, Catherine John, Jon Katherine, and so forth. Dozens of men are named James with the addition of their mothers’ maiden names as a middle name. Then they give that combo to their children but reversed. I have no idea at this rate who any of them are but I can follow the tree. Always follow the tree.
Surprise number three was a coffee-spitter. My aunt tucked away many wonderful newspaper and magazine articles of the time and handwritten documents from our family. Wills, diaries, etc. I found a property list today, which is what inspired me to write this piece. There in one of my ancestors’ actual rather fancy and formal handwriting is a list of his property, which included the following after a list of farm equipment:
·      Boy $150.00
·      Woman (named Ann) $400.00
·      Girl $250.00
·      Man (named Will) $450
I’ve watched a few TV shows on the topic of tracing our families and some families are shocked to discover that their families once owned slaves. But until it happened to me I didn’t realize how shocked they were. It made me instantly light-headed. I can’t even describe the impact. I sprayed my computer with coffee and then spilled the remainder of the cup when I hastily placed it too close to the edge of my desk.
After I cleaned my computer and carpet, I pulled the document out again. I have more stacks of handwritten documents to examine but I’ll remember to be beverage-free. Though I doubt I will experience the same level of shock if I see more slaves because now I know. Why was I shocked? I’ve watched the shows. I know white people owned slaves in the south. I’m white with southern lineage. Why was I so shocked? Not only shocked but I’ve been in a blue funk all day and can’t shake it. I had absolutely nothing to do with my ancestors’ lifestyle choices but I swear I’m feeling the guilt of generations. Piles of it.
I wonder where the slave descendants are today? I wonder if they’re looking on genealogy sites? Do the sites list property lists for slaves? I don't even know how to find their descendants. Ann is a very popular name. And that isn’t my current task. I’m currently just tracing my family for my mom and other family members. However, when I’m fairly well done with all that I’m going to find a way to find out who those people were. To me it sounds like a husband, wife, their son, and daughter. Were they able to stay on the family farm forever? Were they sold? What happened to them?
We weren’t rich people with a plantation and lots of slaves. But many humble farmers had a slave or two back then. Slaves were bought and sold like other farm labor saving items like horses and mules. We all know that. So did they just go to town one day and pick up a slave and a mule? I think they did. And the cost of the adult slaves was tremendous for the time period. $400 and $450 in those days must have been huge. And it appears they bought the family.
We’ve all watched the movies, read the books, countless documentaries, famous people from both sides of the color spectrum have shared stories and information with all of us. It does not help me one bit. I am descended from slave owners. I didn’t want to be descended from slave owners. And the slaves didn’t want to be owned by my ancestors. Do I apologize? Who to? Is it just history and out of anyone’s control? Do we just “live with it”? Are slave descendants “living with it”? I guess we have no choice given the time this all took place.
There is one tiny solace in knowing this though. I have devoted myself to a bias-free life long before I knew I was descended from slave owners. My dad shared his upbringing and some of his experiences and observations “down on the farm” and he was not happy about race relations in the that area or in the world in his youth (or later). He was one of those people who liked everyone and people from everywhere sought him out for friendship. This included an inmate at Alcatraz who upon release met my dad and they became lifelong friends. [The inmate wrote a book on his life of crime and ultimate incarceration at Alcatraz entitled Alcatraz from the Inside: The Hard Years by Jim Quillen. Many years later I worked with a woman whose father was a guard at Alcatraz. Both men are included in the self-paced audio tour tourists take when they visit the island. If you’ve taken this tour you met my dad’s best friend and my dear friend’s father. It’s a small world after all.]
So with that parenting I then raised two kids who brought home the United Nations of friends. Even today when I meet their assorted adult friends I’m always thrilled to see they mix it up and have friends from many cultures and backgrounds. They do not seek diverse friendship pools but because they don't have biases they are open to making friends with anyone they happen to meet and they don't shy away from anyone who is “different.” Having friends from many races and cultures is the most rewarding life experience humans can enjoy. 
So here’s my gene pool: Portuguese, French, Scottish, Irish, and English. My grandmother told me there was some hanky-panky between an unknown Spaniard and one of our Portuguese ancestors long ago that may have produced a child. Naturally that lineage will not show up unless I do a DNA test which I’m thinking about. It’s fun just knowing it’s probably true. I’ve just scratched the genealogy surface and found fun news (illegal aliens and Crockett) and sad news (slaves). I learned that one relative was “killed by an Indian.” It was listed in an official document as “cause of death.” An English ancestor was a Lord, another French ancestor a Marquis. Hopefully not de Sade. There’s a rumor that we are also related to Abe Lincoln via Davy Crockett. (Haven’t come across that yet but talk about irony.) I hope I have the stomach for this project. So far I have not discovered I’m related to Lizzy Borden.
[Update: Before posting I found several “slave data collection sites.” That will be my next project. I hope to be successful because I have documentation. I will post a follow-up.]
[Update: I have not found a connection between Davy Crockett and Abe Lincoln and my line is connected to Crockett so no Lincoln ancestry. No salvation for me there.
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