Now Indexing No Longer

 

An entry posted this past Thursday by John Reid on his blog, Anglo-Celtic Connections, pointed out a change developing at FamilySearch.org. Volunteering to index microfilmed records is now a thing of the past. AI will do all the heavy lifting of transcribing documents; volunteers will now provide the follow-up double-check.

It's been quite some time since I last volunteered to do indexing at FamilySearch—likely when the 1950 U.S. Census was made public and the race was on to make it searchable. Then, the recently-debuted Artificial Intelligence driven handwriting recognition machines took over the hard work, and volunteers did the spot-checking of possible mistaken entries. Most of the tasks for the human volunteers seemed quite streamlined; the speed with which the records went live to the public attested to that game-changing approach.

Reading John Reid's post last Thursday prompted me to revisit the indexing page on the FamilySearch website to glean more details. Apparently, back in March, the FamilySearch blog began a series of articles highlighting what was coming next for this new way of volunteering. I had already seen that the old tab used to select indexing opportunities had received its new label, "Get Involved," but reading up on the change spelled out the greater role AI was playing in bringing so many digitized records online faster than ever before. Indexing is evolving. And I'm grateful, both as a researcher and as a volunteer, to experience the benefits of these changes.

Now Indexing — Again

 

There's been a lot of talk lately about new versions of Artificial Intelligence (AI) in its latest incarnations, such as ChatGPT. But in the midst of all the breaking news on AI developments, I forgot one quietly advancing employment of such AI systems that we genealogists can appreciate. 

Remember how FamilySearch needed so many volunteers to "index" the many records they were bringing online on their website? They had so many more records digitized—but in browse-only format—than they could make available in a searchable form, since it used to take human eyes and hands to type in the words captured in the pictures scanned from billions of records from around the world.

And then, remember how, with the release of the 1950 census, organizations like FamilySearch and Ancestry.com put a version of AI computers to work indexing those records, accelerating the time it took to prepare the scans for release to the public in a searchable form?

With the advent of computers trained to recognize handwriting, it seemed there would soon be no more use for volunteers to complete the labor-intensive process of transcribing information from the pictures taken of original documents—what FamilySearch calls indexing. And while we were glad to help, I imagine there was a collective sigh of relief in realizing a brighter day was peeking up over the family history horizon with our first glimpse of what AI could do with the 1950 census.

Truth be told, after I participated in the April all-hands-on-deck indexing fest working to double-check what the AI machines offered as a first draft, I figured my volunteer hours were done for good. From this point on, AI would take the stage—and shine.

While that is not entirely correct—there are still projects pleading for volunteers to help—a recent news article reminded me that AI is indeed gaining ground in this project to convert old microfilmed records to searchable, digitized formats. According to Rebecca Olds' article this past month in Deseret News, last year FamilySearch finished digitizing more than sixty years worth of microfilmed records. In her interview with senior production manager John Alexander of FamilySearch, he claimed that within a couple hours of work, a trained computer could index more documents than any one volunteer could index "in a whole lifetime."

The article, "How FamilySearch is Using the Future to Discover the Past with AI," gives us a sneak peek at the processes going on behind the scenes as FamilySearch brings decades of governmental and private records to the forefront for those of us seeking information on our elusive ancestors. Everything from details on how the computers are trained to do the work of transforming those microfilms to reports on the sheer numbers of records yet to be made available are, in my opinion, mind-boggling.

Though the science behind this progress is impressive, there is admittedly much more to be done. As the article reminded me, volunteers are indeed still an integral part of this process. As FamilySearch's production manager John Alexander mentioned, "computer automation isn't going to replace our volunteer indexers—if anything, we need more of them."

Guess it's high time I got back to work.

 

  

Fun With the Fifties

 

The fifties has been a decade inspiring nostalgia. Granted, the recent release of the 1950 U.S. Census has prompted part of the retro mania—with even a "nod" to the release at the National Genealogical Society's conference later this month. All in good fun, and quite predictable.

I'm having my own fun with the fifties, too. Still working away at indexing that mammoth census release, I tried my hand at the "name review" for one of the states in my family's heritage—Florida—and discovered some interesting entries. Take this one that only a bibliophile would appreciate: a household with the surname Goethe living next door to another home boasting the surname Faulkner. What are the chances?!

While I and countless others have been volunteering through FamilySearch.org to make the 1950 census fully searchable—you can too, by the way—judging by the map provided on their website, it looks like about one third of the nation is at least twenty five percent completed. Most of the states with greater portions completed seem to be in the western third of the continent, perhaps a no-brainer, when you realize that includes Utah, home state of FamilySearch. The volunteering enthusiasm radiates outward from there.

While I did, at the beginning, work on the first task presented for the census review—called the "name review"—by focusing on my ancestors' home states, I've since regrouped to work on the data for my current home state, California. Now, the name review process for California is 83% completed, an encouraging sign, considering the size of that state's population. From there, indexers are moving on to the next task, "review document header," where 13% is already completed. The final task in the sequence is the "review families" process to group names by households. We have a long way to go on that, since the percent complete hasn't yet budged from zero.

Granted, this indexing process is a partnership between the tech muscle at Ancestry.com and the volunteering volume at FamilySearch.org. While we're still in the midst of double-checking the AI handwriting recognition readouts, you may have noticed that Ancestry has already released a tentative version on their website—and even better news is the fact that they're offering access for free. I've run into several families on my tree who now have the 1950 census included in their listing of hints.

However, as genea-blogging's "first kid on the block"—Randy Seaver—has observed, this is dubbed an "early version" of the searchable census, the Ancestry AI version, which is different from the National Archives' version. While we get the sneak peek at the 1950 census, there is still more work to be done to complete the indexing job to make the entire record fully searchable.

I remember the impressive results ten years ago, when at the release of the 1940 census for indexing, a total of one hundred sixty three thousand volunteers joined together virtually to complete in four months a project that was expected to take upwards of a year to tackle. This time around, we have the heavy hitters from the tech world pulling the bulk of the weight, but we still need people to double check what the AI handwriting recognition technology might have missed. That tech assist speeds up the process greatly—and I'm in awe of the ability of computers to read chicken scratch!—so we should be able to make better time with this project than we saw with the last census release. 

But only if we have the volunteers to do it.

Let's see how fast we can turn this project around!

Almost a Month

 

Come this Sunday, it will have been a month since the April 1 release of the 1950 census. The digitized enumeration has already been reviewed by computers able to read that illegible handwriting which seems to have been a job qualification for census workers throughout history. Over the course of this month, in a partnership between the volunteer indexers at FamilySearch.org and Ancestry.com AI tech prowess, an army of real humans has been reviewing the judgment calls of these amazing machines.

How has it been going for them? The task has been divided into three categories. In the simplest, the task for volunteers is simply to check whether the computers read each name correctly. In an amazing number of cases, that has indeed become the correct verdict, no matter how messy the enumerator's handwriting might have been. Another task for volunteers has been to review the document headers. A third segment of the volunteer work is to group names according to households.

So, how is the work going? On the first segment, reviewing names already indexed by the computers, one state has actually been completed: Nevada. Looking at the progress map presented by FamilySearch, it is easy to check how other states are faring.

As of this writing, several states in the west—Oregon, Idaho, Utah, Arizona and New Mexico—as well as Florida are closing in on finishing the last twenty five percent of the task. Montana, Louisiana, and California don't quite have one half of their names confirmed yet. With the exception of Wyoming, South Dakota, New Hampshire, Vermont, and Rhode Island, which have yet to be added to the indexing project, the rest of the continental United States has not yet reached twenty five percent completion.

That, however, will come soon enough. If you are already a volunteer indexer participating in this once-a-decade project, scrolling down that same link where the progress map appears, you can see a tally of your own contributions. I was surprised to see how many names I had "indexed"—rather, simply confirmed with a quick click of a button—in the past month. The task goes so quickly, it hardly seems possible that I could have done so much. It is really no work at all, but benefits so many of us to have this census confirmed, line by line, for everyone to be able to search fully whenever we need to find details of our family back in 1950.

If you haven't yet gotten over to FamilySearch to volunteer to help, I hope you grab the chance to become part of this mammoth accomplishment. Simply sign in—or create a free FamilySearch.org account—and click on "Get Involved," then select "1950 U.S. Census" from the drop-down menu to get started. Let's see how quickly we can turn this job around!

Indexing Re-Invented

 

For the longest time, I set aside a regular time to volunteer as an indexer to make the digitized records at FamilySearch computer-searchable. As of this year's RootsTech conference, we've now discovered that indexing is no longer the volunteer process we've come to expect. It has been re-invented.

The sleek new package, redesigned with an eye to encouraging volunteers to take action, is now dubbed "Get Involved." Even better, it has been reinvented with volunteers-on-the-go in mind; to participate, you can download the app to your smart phone and tap in to volunteer opportunities in those fleeting downtime moments of everyday life. Like, while standing in line at the grocery store.

Well, I don't know if I'm that driven, but I did give the "Get Involved" program a whirl on my laptop, almost immediately after hearing about the reconfigured site during RootsTech. I guess a whole bunch of other conference attendees got the same idea at the same time, for the tab on the FamilySearch website disappeared for a while last Saturday night. Rest assured, it is back, and fully capable of showing its stuff in a test drive.

In a matter of moments, a volunteer can confirm or edit a batch of twenty names already transcribed via artificial intelligence handwriting recognition—the same computer action which will make harvesting the data from the 1950 U.S. Census a much faster process than even the volunteer victory over the 1940 census transference to computer-ready searches. All it takes—well, besides a free FamilySearch.org account—is the ability to compare notes from an identified name in a document with the "answer" the AI computer came up with. The volunteer's simple response? Either click "match" or "edit." If "edit," type in the correct response, then click "submit." If really stumped, there is always the out of clicking the third option, "unsure."

Those who are old hands at indexing may have noticed that the website tab to gain entry to select projects has been changed from the label "Indexing" to the more energetic "Get Involved." 

 

Under the drop-down menu, if you select "My Opportunities" and scroll down the page to the box labeled "Review Names," that is where the action begins. You can choose specific surnames to search, or a specific location—right now, only documents from the United States and Latin America are available—or just choose to work on whichever project has the greatest need at the moment. The app will serve up twenty names and ask you to compare the selected option with information in the original document. It's amazing how fast you can work through a batch of names.

Everything looks ready now for some serious volunteer action, once the 1950 U.S. Census is released on April 1. The only thing I'd like to see implemented in this re-invention of the old indexing site is the ability to form groups—teams of volunteers from the same location, like a local genealogical society—just as we used to do in the old indexing section of FamilySearch.

Once the 1950 census indexing gets rolling, I think it would be more fun for a group to see how much its members can tackle, and to see, cumulatively, how much we've accomplished for the common good. The new Get Involved app is making great strides in enabling us to collectively make more documents searchable—and thus usable—but gaining a sense of how we are all doing, together, to make that difference can be a far more powerful encouragement than just providing an easier way for volunteers to help out.

Now Indexing : Something a Machine Started

 

It's been my habit every month to do my part to "give back" by volunteering to index digitized records at FamilySearch.org. Believe me, I'm not alone; there are "hundreds of thousands" of folks around the world helping with this ongoing project. The problem is, there is an avalanche of nearly forty million records being digitized each year, through over three hundred cameras operated by FamilySearch in fifty countries around the world. It's hard to keep up, even with hundreds of thousands of indexing volunteers.

That pace, incidentally, is accelerating: just last month, FamilySearch reported having indexed thirty four million records from around the world. That, in part, is the result of a new approach to converting pictures of records into readable—and thus searchable—documents through indexing. Instead of approaching the task entirely by hand, FamilySearch is now employing not only the newer Optical Character Recognition systems, but combining that with machine learning and artificial intelligence to extend that character recognition capability to handwritten documents, as well. A demonstration of how that process works was provided at last month's RootsTech Connect, where you can actually upload a sample from your own ancestor's letters to see a demonstration.

For the greater part of history, the types of documents we have relied on to verify our family history were handwritten. Developing a system—even if it still needs the intervention of humans double-checking computer work—will yield far faster results than we've ever seen before this point. This is indeed encouraging news.

But what is it like today, when I sign in to my FamilySearch account to index records? I've been watching the choices available as indexing projects, and the list seems to be much shorter than I remember it in previous years. 

For this month, of the few projects in English in my home country, I found one on passenger lists arriving in the port of New York City, and decided to work there, remembering how helpful those lists were in my recent project to trace my godmother's father, a career seaman. 

Other than reading the step-by-step instructions and spotting the warning that the scanned records would be faint or hard to read—oh, my eyes!—there was little to do but move through the brief steps on a short batch of records.

Once completed, I could see why this indexing batch might not have been read by computers: the scans were faint, dark, and poorly focused. While computers may be speeding up the overall progress of transforming digitized documents into searchable records, the few remaining images they can't handle will take a disproportionate amount of an indexer's time.

Overall, while the news of this computerized progress is great, I may have to re-evaluate my usefulness to the program, if for nothing else than my eyes' inability to decipher the rejects those brainy computers can't handle.

Now Indexing — Or Perhaps Not

 

With all the holiday trappings completely stowed for another year, and the shimmer of New Year's Day hopefulness already lost its luster, I've been ready to get back to normal—whatever that is. So I turned to my favorite traditional virtual volunteer activity, indexing digitized records at FamilySearch.org.

Apparently, things aren't back to "normal" there, either. In fact, they might be in the midst of an exciting development—or, as one person on the "Automated Content Extraction" team put it, "explosion."

It's not a development we couldn't have foreseen. After all, though volunteers like me who index to help make more digitized records computer-searchable may find the process as relaxing as knitting, with every year—no, every record gained—we are falling farther and farther behind what could have been accomplished.

For instance, while genealogy organizations like FamilySearch.org have been publishing digitized records at an exponential rate—the first one billion images by 2014, but two billion achieved by 2018—our human fingers on the computer keyboard have been clunking away at the rate of thousands in comparison. The hurrier we go, the behinder we get.

It's no surprise, then, to see people searching for ways to apply technology capabilities to our lagging rate of indexing—of converting images to searchable terms. It was interesting, as I exploring who had been thinking about this issue, to find a thread begun on a forum back in 2017. Someone, thinking and curious, had posted a query on the forum about whether anything was being done about exploring the application of handwriting recognition software to the indexing process at FamilySearch.org.

Apparently, there were others thinking along those same lines. In 2018, at a family history conference at Brigham Young University, one presentation outlined the task at hand—read the presentation notes from Ben Baker below the slideshare here—focusing specifically on the game-changing usage of machine learning and other technologies in an effort to play indexing catch-up. With that key shift in strategy, indexers may now serve more as quality assurance to check the initial indexing work done much faster by machines through optical character recognition.

Thankfully, this savvy application of technological capabilities to our insatiable craving for more clickable historical documents has been helping organizations like FamilySearch.org narrow the gap between records digitized and records made searchable, despite the very human limitations of those willing indexing volunteers. Sure enough, when I checked for available indexing projects—in my quest to get back to "normal" with my monthly volunteering stint—there weren't really that many opportunities available.

Perhaps, in a race with machines, they will beat me every time. And I'm glad of that, especially for the sake of the many who are still searching for evidence of their family's history. But for my desire to find that relaxing volunteer equivalent of knitting, perhaps I'll need to adjust my expectations a bit. Perhaps now, we'll be crowdsourcing our analysis of how well those machines did at reading hundred year old documents. At least now we won't get bleary-eyed over that prospect.

Instead of Indexing, Trying Something New

 

Usually, I try to spend one Saturday a month "giving back," as I call it, for all the helpful genealogical resources which volunteers have shared online over the years. We often forget, now that we benefit from subscription services to aid our family history quests, that for many years, it was only thanks to volunteer efforts that we could find many of the records to piece together our family's story.

Now, besides volunteering for my local genealogical society, I try to focus some of that "giving back" time through what is likely the largest volunteer genealogical organization in the world: the people behind the website we know as FamilySearch.org. That's where you'll generally find me doing that monthly project called indexing.

Today, however, when I went on the FamilySearch website to index records, I spotted this button on the landing page:

I decided to check it out. After all, I do have a weakness for rabbit trails, and this one looked intriguing—not to mention, my latest foray into Polish geography already had me warmed up for this exercise. With Google Maps and Wikipedia, I was ready to tackle anything!

When I clicked the button labeled "Try It," unlike Alice in her adventures chasing the White Rabbit, I didn't shrink to microscopic size, nor grow to gargantuan heights. In fact, my adventure was quite tame and even predictable.

The first page that tentative click led me to was a list of simple instructions, explaining that I would be shown a "user-entered place" from the FamilySearch family tree. Along with that would be some examples of related lifetime events which might also contain that same place name. My mission was to identify which of several standard place names might represent the name listed in that user's part of the universal family tree. Decision made, click the choice and move to the next in a short series of entries needing verification.

To start the process, I could exercise the option to select a location to work on, mainly by country. I opted for the tame route today, and selected United States for my choice. It's been a rough research week in Poland, and I just needed to stay closer to home for this maiden volunteer voyage.

Jumping into the program itself, it was clear some of the examples came from headings on census pages—you know, the type which lists not only the city of Toledo, for instance, but the specific ward in the city. Some entries mentioned lesser-known places—like Pigeon Roost, Kentucky. A quick search via Google led me to the Wikipedia page for Clay County, Kentucky, where a subheading under the Communities section showed a listing of historic place names used in previous census enumerations—including Pigeonroost, spelled all in one word, solving the puzzle for that one entry. Easy.

All told, I think the batch of place names to verify included about ten. I was done with the set in no time, even including detours to double check place names via Google and Wikipedia. Hopefully, FamilySearch will keep offering these quick and easy volunteer options, giving willing volunteers bite-sized pieces to dispatch in a matter of moments. And the genealogical community will find ways to fit in these easy-to-complete tasks in their own personal "giving back" profile.

 

Images above: First, the "Try Me" button from the home page at FamilySearch.org; below, John Tenniel's illustration of "Drink Me" in the Lewis Carroll children's story, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.

 

Now Indexing — Again: Those New Jersey Naturalization Records

 

The air has gotten smoky enough, once again, that my brain is now starved for the sight of green skies and blue trees. No...no, that isn't quite right. Let's try green for the trees, not skies—or perhaps seeing any color but gray would be helpful, no matter where it shows up.

This type of malaise calls for some more genealogical knitting, so I went looking on the FamilySearch indexing projects to see what new projects could keep me busy. Since I've been working on Falveys who immigrated to Massachusetts lately, I would have liked to see a naturalization project for that state calling for volunteer help, but since the closest possibility was for nearby New Jersey, I thought I'd snatch up that opportunity.

This project was the perfect match for my smoke-befuddled brain this weekend. Yes, another naturalization records project, but this time it was for index cards for records as recent as the 1970s. For the most part, after taking due diligence in reading the instructions, working through the indexing process took hardly any time at all. Each record set contained a mere five records. Each record, for the most part, included only three data points. While some of those immigrant surnames grabbed my attention with their impossible string of consonants, or other spelling sequences unfamiliar to American eyes, dispatching a batch of records took a matter of mere minutes.

Needless to say, with such an easy record set, I did several rounds. I needed something routine to wrap my mind around today. Hopefully, even these little index cards will lead someone to the information they are seeking on their family members. Of course, this giving-back project won't guarantee that my skies will clear up, but at least it provided something positive to focus on in the meantime.

Now Indexing: More U.S. Naturalization Records

 

Finally! It's back to indexing digitized documents again, and it feels so good to find something I can work on. Incredibly, I haven't been able to do any volunteer indexing since last July when, coincidentally, I worked on the same record set I'm tackling right now.

"Tackling" is probably too harsh a word to use for this session. Once again, it was the U.S. Naturalization Records I was indexing—and again, from New Jersey, close enough to perhaps help some shirttail relatives of my New York City immigrant kin. This time, though, the dates were more recent—in 1941—and the records I was viewing benefited from the use of such modern conveniences as the manual typewriter. Oh bliss! No more struggles with impossible handwriting!

While I skipped my monthly tour of duty in August, mostly due to a combination of stressors here at home in drought-stricken, fire-ridden California, the other reason I just couldn't sit and concentrate on any indexing tasks was that, for some reason, the choices for projects seemed too complicated, or different, or not in alignment with my own research goals. After all, my selfish reason for helping with the FamilySearch Indexing Projects is to help make more documents searchable in the areas where I'm already researching. See? I have not one altruistic bone in my body; I'm afraid I'm too cold and calculating for that.

Indexing does require a volunteer to invest time in absorbing a sizeable amount of instruction on how to handle any given record set. Thus, it is far more efficient for a volunteer to focus on the same type of record set, once those instructions have been absorbed. That way, rather than taking even more time to read yet another set of instructions, one can blast through batches after batches of documents without the down time investment.

For motivation, though, I find I am more keen to help out if I know I am also furthering my own cause. Since many of my direct line immigrant ancestors came through the port of New York City, I like indexing immigrant records in that vicinity. However, it does my heart good to see the wide variety of immigrants coming into our country from so many locations. All ages, all origins—it is fascinating to read the details on who these people were and where they came from. I often wonder what their stories must have been, whatever it was that caused the upheaval that prompted them to leave home and family to come to a new land with a strange language. There is something about the stories of immigrants that is so compelling to me.

For this time, I spent my brief tour of voluntary duty documenting the arrivals of young and old from places familiar—like England or Ireland—and not so familiar, like the farther reaches of war-torn eastern Europe. Hopefully, when I return to my task next month, there will be more of the same to tackle, which I'll gladly take the opportunity to continue processing. So many records yet to complete!

Now Indexing: Immigration Records from New Jersey

Who says a holiday can keep me from my regularly scheduled volunteer indexing?

Last night, while waiting for nightfall to get here so we could enjoy viewing the celebratory fireworks, I realized I could squeeze in a couple short batches of naturalization records. While my usual project selection—naturalization records for New York, where my immigrant ancestors entered the United States—was not available, there was one for neighboring New Jersey. Remembering that many of my extended family opted to settle across the Hudson River from the "Big Apple," I thought this might be enough cause to join in the effort.

One plus to keeping with a certain type of record set, over many volunteer sessions, is that you become familiarized with the usual data requested, both on the original form and in the indexing format. It really didn't take that long to review the forms, despite their originating from a different state. Besides, since the forms were a forerunner of the Declaration of Intention—these were from 1855, when bureaucracy hadn't yet flexed its muscle—there wasn't much information collected from the immigrant. Streamlined forms mean streamlined indexing for me.

On the other hand, short batches sometimes mean the group of documents had been previously attempted by someone else, who apparently became stuck and abandoned the project. It sometimes does take me by surprise to see what the previous problem was—and figure out the best way to backtrack and correct the issue—but the more I get involved with this process, the more the problem solving seems intuitive.

With two short batches to complete—this time for Essex County, New Jersey—I was finished with my volunteer service for the week and quickly out the door to view some fireworks. The idea behind setting up these brief batches of indexing is to provide small packets of work that a volunteer can do without involving huge amounts of time. The more volunteers who make themselves available, because of this light work load, the more those records can be processed and become fully searchable for future researchers. Whether it's "giving back" or "paying it forward," it allows all of us to find more of the family history records we seek.

Now Indexing: Something Not in my Plans

Perhaps this stay-at-home order has inspired countless numbers of would-be indexers to find something productive to do. I'm not sure. All I know is that, now that I've finally gotten around to doing some indexing on FamilySearch.org for this month—face it, I only have one more day left to get it done—I can't find any projects in the queue to be indexed.

Well, there are a few. But not many. At least, not among the U.S. records. And I'm certainly not sure enough of myself to tackle records in foreign languages.

Usually, I zero in on records from areas where my ancestors once settled. I may be a volunteer indexer, but I'm not exactly an altruistic volunteer; I look for record sets which might eventually help my own research cause. Don't be surprised to see me indexing naturalization records for New York City area. Or marriage records in Cook County, Illinois. Maybe even something from the old South.

I seriously doubt any records from Wisconsin would advance my research cause—well, not unless I figure a way to link with my mystery DNA cousins there—but that is what I ended up indexing today. Specifically, I worked on naturalization records.

Granted, the news from FamilySearch.org is that, for the last full month of April, they added 57.2 million newly-indexed records to their collection. That must mean there were a lot of volunteers busy at work transforming those digitized records into searchable material. Perhaps we'll see a similar news report, once we close out the month of May.

That's always good news for any family history researcher—especially those with roots in countries named in the long list of records uploaded at April's end. But I can't recall ever signing on to my FamilySearch account and finding such a dearth of indexing opportunities in my home country as I did today. I'm sure our work is still far from done.

Now Indexing: More New York Naturalization Records

I'm back at digital volunteer work today. I'm still hoping that someday, I'll be sitting at my usual online indexing tasks and will finally get the chance to add a record of my own ancestor to the searchable collection at FamilySearch.org. After all, my more recent immigrant ancestors came to this country through the port of New York City—and they couldn't have taken all their secrets with them when they passed to their grave. I'm seeking the paper trail they left behind.

Thus, every two weeks, you'll find me at my computer, chipping away at the various naturalization record projects still needing indexing at FamilySearch.org. Indexing is an organized program to convert pictures of documents into computer-searchable files. That's what makes genealogical pursuit a breeze now, compared to the days before computers: go to a genealogy website, type in a name (and perhaps a bit more detail) and click a button to be served up a long list of every scanned record which could possibly contain information on your ancestor.

Compare that with the "good old days" when researchers sent their snail-mail-delivered written requests to targeted county clerks across the country—along with a check to pay for services—in hopes of locating the birth, marriage, or death certificate for that one missing ancestor's verification. Of course, back then, chances were strong that said clerk might respond—after months since dispatching that letter—with an answer that there was no record of any such person.

Now, satisfaction can be instantaneous—if, that is, such a record has been digitized and indexed so that the computer search can be completed. All to say, if no one has done the work of translating the picture of that document into text which a computer can recognize—a.k.a. "indexed"—that handy search function cannot be performed.

Thus, an army of volunteers from around the world is regularly going through the process of doing that translation service. Anyone who is willing to volunteer their time to do so, and willing to learn via a few project instructions, can serve as an indexer. The work is "batched" into small chunks of records which can be typed into a pre-set form in about ten minutes or less. Once you get the hang of doing one batch of records, you can either submit the batch and call it quits for the day, or opt to continue with another ten-minute batch. Or two. Or more.

Easy, right? That's why so many people have volunteered to do indexing—thankfully. Indexers are people from all ages and all walks of life: private individuals, genealogical societies—even extended families, working together in a private group. But even with as many willing hands as have participated in the process over the years, there are far more records still being added to the collection than volunteers can keep up with, hence the need, always, for more volunteers. 

Now Indexing: From a Different Approach

Sometimes, it just helps to stop wrestling with frustratingly unyielding puzzles, and find something to scrape take one's mind off the brick wall in the research pathway. So today, I spent some time helping out with someone else's genealogy problem: I did some indexing at FamilySearch.org.

This time, though, I took the back door in to find a suitable batch to index. Usually, I go straight to the "Indexing" button on the drop-down menu after signing in to FamilySearch. There, I can just conveniently click on "Find a Project" and search for one in a region of personal interest. That way, I can, say, work on naturalization records in New York City in hopes of someday finding my grandfather's family, or work on Chicago records to trace my father-in-law's Irish immigrant roots.

This time, though, I tried a different way to access a record set to index. A short while back, I had noticed that FamilySearch had made some more changes to their website, one of them being that when you search for a specific location's record sets, the website conveniently suggests available training opportunities related to that geographic area—and then, also mentions specific record sets that are in need of volunteers to index them. You can see this in action if, instead of cutting straight to the chase on the "Search - Records" route and filling in names and dates in the dialog box, you let your cursor hover over the various parts of the big map that fills the other side of the page.

Have you ever noticed that, if you hover over a region on that map and then click your mouse, a pop-up box lets you drill down to more specific locations? For instance, if I hover over the map of Europe and click, the site gives me the option of choosing from each of the specific countries which comprise that continent.

I have done that for North America—and particularly the United States, where most of my research is concentrated—so many times before. But last week I noticed that, once I selected the specific state I was researching, a column on the left suggested specific indexing projects for that state which were in need of help that very moment.

Since today was my specific day to complete some volunteer indexing, I thought I'd find a batch that way, instead of my usual route. I headed to Ohio, where I am currently floundering around, trying to locate old records—especially wills—having to do with my mother-in-law's uncooperative Rinehart ancestors.

While I couldn't find any current projects for my specific interest in Perry County, Ohio, I did notice a project on that left column looking for immediate help with Western Division Naturalization records in Cincinnati, Ohio. I thought I'd spend a few minutes on that project, and in no time, added a set of ten declarations of intent and petitions for citizenship to the available records which are now searchable (instead of browse-only).

I have found a few other such indexing suggestions in my research over the past week or ten days—some even in my own state of California, which rarely shows up in the list of needed indexing projects. Hopefully, this extra exposure is helping dispatch those record sets to the ranks of those we can easily search, benefiting so many people worldwide with the ease of finding those mystery relatives we seek.

And, strangely enough, it was nice to set aside thoughts of struggling with my impenetrable family mysteries for a day and just do some routine typing—and yet, know that, even if not for me, it's helping to make progress for someone out there.

Easing Into Another Batch

Could an indexing project be as relaxing as mindlessly assembling a jigsaw puzzle? Depends. In my case, anything would be relaxing in comparison to the five-hour-long commute last night from a city that was only ninety miles from home. Once safely home after such a harrowing experience—and promising myself to never, ever, ever attempt a trip home from the Bay Area on a Friday preceding a three-day weekend—I thought I'd unwind with a little volunteer work online at FamilySearch.org.

Truth be told, the real reason I headed to the indexing tab last night was because of something I had spotted a few days earlier. I had been trying to find resources to help me do some lookups of California records at FamilySearch.org. To my surprise, last week I discovered a project which had been initiated by a neighboring genealogical society—a project which anyone could help complete with only a few minutes of volunteer work at a computer. Sure, I'd be willing to help my neighbors, so I made a mental note to go back to that link (yes, I saved it) during the time I had scheduled for indexing work later in the week.

By the time I got to check it out again, it was gone. All I got was an error message, as if it were a broken link or something. But how could that be? So I went back to my original notes, and tried to look up the collection in FamilySearch's catalog. Sure enough, there it was, now searchable. Poof! Another indexing project quickly dispatched.

I'm glad to see how quickly some of these indexing projects are completed. There is so much work still to do to make digitized record sets searchable. Since I couldn't work on that California record set anymore, I went back to my old standby: naturalization records in the tri-state area surrounding that major port of entry, New York City. This time, I concentrated on some very old records—well, as early as 1856—from Essex County in New Jersey.

Those early records don't contain as much information as later naturalization applications require—but I'll bet anyone searching for their immigrant ancestor from the late 1850s would be elated to find anything on such mystery ancestors. At least this is a start for those seeking to make the momentous jump "across the pond."

Likewise, because this particular record set was so sparse, as far as fill-in-the-blanks went, it was a blast to complete the indexing batch, so I did more than one batch. It was a breeze. It was a good feeling to know I'm helping someone else. And it hardly ate up any of my spare time. That's the type of volunteer project that's do-able for almost anyone—and I'm glad so many people have been willing to jump in and help. The end result makes it easier for all of us to delve further into our own family history.

Now Indexing: More NYC Immigration Records

It's time to add a little confetti to my holiday calendar—and take care of a monthly giving-back goal before that holiday calendar gets too hectic. (Yes, for those who complete an indexing project at FamilySearch.org, the website showers electronic confetti from top to bottom of your computer screen.)

I like to do my tiny bit, in thanks for all the help that's come my way over the years, by indexing a couple sets of records every month at FamilySearch.org. Indexing—the process of turning digitized pictures of historical documents into searchable records—does not take long, once you've read up on a few tips and instructions, and it gives the satisfaction of being of help to others. After all, we all enjoy the comparative exponential search speed, post-Internet compared to pre-Internet. The indexing process makes it possible for more records to be directly searched (versus browsed) by people looking to verify their ancestors' stories.

Since my family came to North America through the port of New York City—and likely completed some of the same forms I'm indexing today—I like to work on that record set when I do my volunteer work for FamilySearch.org. I love seeing the wide variety of situations, smashed into bureaucratic constriction, and can only imagine the stories those forms preserved.

This time, I spotted an immigrant from Finland who somehow found true love with an immigrant from Italy—about as far apart on the continent, and as varied in physical surroundings, as one can get. I also noticed an Irish immigrant who gave, for her place of birth, a tongue-twisting name of a town which surely will be a gift to any of her descendants, if they come seeking traces of her path.

If only those future researchers could share their stories of finding these documents online. What fun it would be to see the expressions on the faces of those who have, at long last, followed the paper trail back one step farther than they ever had, before. 

Now Indexing: Back to New York

With all the different research projects I've been working on, and all the locations which they've taken me over the past month, I still find myself heading back to New York for indexing projects. Why is it that I have this unquenchable hope that I'll discover my paternal ancestors' immigration or naturalization records in a place the size of New York City? As unreasonable as that hope is, I find myself returning again and again to the U.S. District Court Naturalization Records for New York City's Southern District.

You will not be surprised to learn that I didn't run across any familiar surnames this time.

I did, however, transcribe the naturalization records for several immigrants from Germany and Italy in this month's volunteer moments. As much of a drop in the bucket as this attempt at giving back may be, at least it is something. I do appreciate all the many efforts of so many other volunteers who transformed the world of genealogical research for the rest of us, and want to chip away at what can be added to the process.

And though I suspect I'll never run into a yet-to-be-transcribed record of any of my distant relatives in that NYC collection, I can't help but wonder if their names might pop up as witnesses on someone else's affidavits.

Perhaps it might seem as if I'd have better chances if I just went out and bought a lottery ticket—but even if I lost that chance to spot an ancestor in all these unindexed records, at least the effort may make it possible to secure a win for someone else.

Now Indexing: Naturalization Records for New York

I'm back to my old haunts once again, indexing New York City naturalization records at FamilySearch.org. Although I've been most recently doing research on my Polish ancestors in scary foreign-language websites in a cloud far, far from home, I don't have the guts to try my hand at transcribing any of those documents for my monthly indexing project. I reverted to my old hang for one simple reason: no matter where they came from in Europe, most of my immigrant ancestors did come through the port at the Big Apple.

Not that this is an easy slog. I've done easier in my many forays into volunteer indexing. Though the forms are mostly typewritten—no struggles with ambiguous handwriting there—they are sometimes digitized in such a way as to cause frustration. Overlays on top of unrelated forms—which one to pay attention to?—or instructions which don't seem to fit the form I'm viewing, or attempts for a one-size-fits-all instruction sheet for multiple types of forms can sometimes add to a volunteer's frustration.

However—and that is a big forever, spoken with a deep sigh—it is this record set upon which so many researchers rely to trace their family lines back to the "old country." Many of these documents divulge the exact village where immigrants were born, or where they lived just prior to boarding their ship for passage to America. Though not all of the information given on the naturalization forms is transcribed via the indexing process—thus my perennial warning to look at the document, not just the cover information—there can be a wealth of resources naming each of the children in a family, their dates of birth, sometimes even the specific place where each of them was born.

Thus, the treasure trove which many researchers would love to stumble upon. Only, until those digitized documents are transcribed into a computer-searchable format, we'd still have to hand-crank through microfilmed versions of these records. The indexing process is what makes searching for ancestral records on a website like FamilySearch seem almost magical—or at least instantaneous. Although the hunt and peck and wait-for-snail-mail routine of the decades pre-Internet may have developed a researcher's virtue of patience, we can now simply speed ahead and conquer multiple generations in the time it once took to discover, to our dismay, that we just sent our stamped, self-addressed envelope and cashier's check away for documentation on the wrong Johann Schmidt.

Now Indexing: More Draft Registration Cards

Every month, I try to set aside time to do some volunteer work on indexing digitized records which are part of the collection at FamilySearch.org. Indexing is the process whereby the pictures of those many pages of genealogically significant documents are translated into searchable terms—the gold standard that makes them so valuable to family history researchers. Without the process of indexing, all we would otherwise have would be thousands and thousands of pictures; we could browse through them, but we'd have no way to pinpoint our search efforts to get to just the right document.

Lately, I've been working on the draft registration cards filled out by countless young American men, once our country became involved in what later was called World War I. I like to focus on the cards completed in New York because that's where my father's family lived at the time. Of course, I keep hoping it will bring some of my distant cousins to light, but barring that type of serendipity, at least my small effort will help others find their ancestors' records more easily.

This weekend's effort didn't go as smoothly as hoped. For some reason, I ended up choosing short batches to index—apparently, batches that someone else had worked on before me. The record sets were previously organized as if there were information on two pages, when each record gleaned all the data needed in the first page—thus, leaving a second page blank. But you couldn't say that second page was blank—and I could find no way to go back and correct the previous entry to indicate that there was only one page of information per record. So I had to come up with a work-around...and I'm sure my choice wasn't the correct way to handle it, but what could I do? The many pages of instructions at my fingertips spoke not a word about such a dilemma.

Since the batch was such a short batch, I opted, as usual, to do a second batch. This one didn't go so well, either, for right before the final record, I got a phone call. It must have lasted longer than the website granted for my downtime permission, for when I returned to wrap up that last record, all that remained was an error message that the website had retracted my batch and I'd have to call up another entire set if I wished to do more work.

Though such quirks—especially those I've never run across previously—can be annoying, I know there is real value in being part of the vast army of volunteers that makes these digitized documents available for all to use freely. If you've ever looked up a census record, or marriage document, or any other genealogical record from around the world on FamilySearch, you've benefited from the indexing work of a volunteer. Anyone willing to follow the process is welcome to become a volunteer. For the most part, instructions are straightforward and available, any time you wish to refer back to them. The work is served up to volunteers in batches, and each batch is small enough to handle in a minimum amount of time. I've heard people mention that they'd do a "batch before dinner" or during other brief waiting times.

The effort illustrates the beauty of the saying, "Many hands make light work." The results are something every genealogy practitioner appreciates, made possible by the multitude of small, achievable tasks done by many willing people.

I just keep waiting for the moment when I end up indexing a missing record for one of my own family members. But even if that never happens—after all, what are the chances?—it feels good to know that the effort will eventually help someone else.

Now Indexing: Draft Registration Cards

Another month flies by, and suddenly, it's time to do some volunteer indexing of records at FamilySearch.org. Sometimes, despite intentions to regularly volunteer, it seems harder than usual to do more than just show up. Perhaps this has been one of those weeks. Still, there's an importance to being there when making a commitment. So today is one of those "just show up" days.

Usually, I try to focus on record sets which reflect the areas in which I've personally been researching. New York has been home to my father's immigrant family for three generations now, so even though I didn't expect to see any of my father's family in the set I indexed today (my father would have been too young to serve in World War I), I worked on draft registration cards for the New York City area.

Even though I grew up in the New York metro area, I was surprised to see what a variety of surnames I'd find in a chance selection of draft registration cards. I indexed records of men from British Guiana and Turkey, as well as native-born citizens. I even spotted an Astor, though I'm certain any Astor who mentioned where he was employed would not be the kind of Astors I had in mind at the moment.

Next month, I'm sure I'll be back, full strength, and can handle a fuller load or more challenging work, but for today, being able to do a light load—rather than skipping the day entirely—means a lot to me. Perhaps it's like keeping up a winning streak; I just hate to break the sequence. Stopping, even for a little while or for a good reason, makes me lose my momentum. Better to keep going than to have to try and start up again. Lighten the load to match the circumstances and keep moving ahead.