Recorded Signs of Existence

 

As we enter another season of religious holidays—both Passover and Easter—my mind turns in gratefulness to the records such religious institutions have provided us. As I chase after any signs of the existence of Nicholas Snider, my mother-in-law's second great-grandfather from the early 1800s, I realize I wouldn't even have what little I do know about him, if it weren't for the record keeping mandates of such organizations. 

I think also, unfortunately, of how much doubt I have that I've located the right Nicholas Snider in those baptismal records back in Adams County, Pennsylvania, before that German immigrant moved his family to Perry County, Ohio. Unlike the pristine handwriting preserved in some of the Catholic baptismal records I've checked for relatives back in their European homeland, the records from Conewago Chapel look like the handwritten scrawl one might expect from a cleric serving on the frontier—hurried, and not quite sure about whether, at a moment's notice, he and his little flock might have to flee for safety.

I think also about the little quirks I spot as I try to find each of Nicholas' children recorded in the church records at their birthplace. In 1812, for instance, Nicholas' wife was the only parent mentioned for the baptism of their daughter Maria Augusta. Where was Nicholas? And what was the meaning of the parenthetical note, "a catholica" after Elizabeth's name? I am not sure whether inspecting these oddities would lead me to clues, then answers, to the larger question of who, exactly, this Nicholas Snider actually was, and where he came from before landing in Pennsylvania. For all I know, they could be false leads, leading, well, nowhere.

A bit more information on what records in Adams County are still available from that time period would be helpful. It's time to broaden the search away from Nicholas, the individual, to examine who made up his community, and where they traveled to arrive at that settlement.