Ancestor #7: Those Flanagans

 

At the turn of the second half of this year, attention for my Twelve Most Wanted for 2025 will turn to the ancestors of my father-in-law. That means grappling with the shrouded identities of Irish men and women from before the time of the Great Famine. Worse, it means trying to trace the identities of Catholics in a land which by then had long become unfriendly towards Catholics.

Bottom line for all this: finding any clear direction regarding the roots of my father-in-law has long meant facing a struggle with lack of documentation. When it comes to finding his Flanagan ancestors, my approach has been to trace any collateral lines. This I had done in 2023, in hopes of finding a clue in the families of siblings—but those hopes have not yet materialized into anything helpful.

Still, I'm willing to give it another try. Reminded by the advances in search capabilities in programs like FamilySearch's Full Text and AI programs, I realize there may be more to come with such developments by next July. So I will not sell my goals short by limiting my research plans based on what is currently available at the beginning of January. This may, however, turn out to be a journey based on faith, not certain availability.

So, who are the Flanagans I hope to find? First is my father-in-law's great-grandmother, Anna Flanagan. She it was who received the enigmatic letter in 1849 from her husband Stephen Malloy with the message—likely an unexpected one—that he was sailing to America within hours. As you can imagine, it was not long after receiving that word that Anna, along with her toddler daughter Catherine in tow, set out to find her husband in America. 

In that quest, she never succeeded. Instead, she joined her bachelor brother in Chicago and raised her daughter there. Eventually, another Flanagan brother joined them in the Windy City, along with a niece and her family.

Who that mystery brother was, I can't yet say. But I suspect that, finding his name and learning more about his family will add to the collection of Flanagan names in that family circle which may point us to the right direction, back in Ireland.

While I can't vouch for Irish records from that time period in the suspected location of their home—County Limerick?—at least I can expand my search on the American side of the research equation for the relatives of Anna Flanagan Malloy.  

Ancestor #6: Say, What?!

 

When it comes to my selection for Ancestor #6 of my Twelve Most Wanted, it's apparent that it has been a long time since I last journeyed down this family line of descent. It is in desperate need of help. Correct that: it's in immediate need of a do-over. What was I thinking?!

My mother-in-law's Rinehart ancestors from pre-Revolutionary War days in Pennsylvania need a thorough overhaul. How I missed those glaringly obvious problems in Simon Rinehart's entry in her family tree can only be chalked up to plugging this ancestor into the wrong parents' tree—I guess. 

Regardless of what caused the glaring error, next June will be my month to muddle through who the real parents of Simon Rinehart were. This will hopefully lead me to the correct names for my mother-in-law's fourth great-grandparents whose son Simon left the family home in Pennsylvania for a new life in Perry County, Ohio. Again, I'll be leaning heavily on this year's developments at FamilySearch Lab's Full Text Search. Along the way, I'll unwind whatever tangled story led me to enter what are obviously the wrong dates—or possibly even the wrong names for Simon Rinehart's siblings and parents. It will be good to set the record straight on this one. Is that my face glowing red in the corner?

Ancestor #5: A Brief Motherhood

 

Granted, for most of human history, women were usually invisible. They might have made an appearance in public documents when marriages were noted—possibly, even, at the birth of their children, especially sons. If, in the course of public life in countries driven by documentation, they merited further recognition, it was a rare appearance. 

What, then, happens when the woman's family moves to the fringes of civilization and, following her marriage and subsequent birth of her child, she dies? What does the American frontier have to show for women like that? In Lidia Miller's case, other than a brief motherhood which signaled her existence, not much.

I've shied away from researching this second great-grandmother on my mother-in-law's line mainly because of the sparse details I've already been able to glean. Though I have no idea when Lidia was born—let alone what her parents' names might have been—I do know she was married to William Gordon in Perry County, Ohio, by 1838. By 1839, her son Adam was born. And a year after that, she was gone, dead at the beginning of the new year, 1840.

With a record like that, I had always thought it would be fruitless to even try to find more—until now. So many more records are coming online, and those which have already been available online are far more accessible now due to improved search capabilities. If there was any mention of this woman at all, this year will be my time to test the research waters. For this second of three ancestors to find from my mother-in-law's heritage, with trepidation—yet optimism—I'll mark Lidia Miller's name in for the fifth goal in my Twelve Most Wanted for 2025.

Ancestor #4: A Patriarch of Many

 

As we move through the selections for my Twelve Most Wanted for 2025, we are bound to find some repeats from prior years' selections. Ancestor #4 is no exception. Exactly three years ago, I had decided to focus on my mother-in-law's ancestor Nicholas Schneider, and this coming April, I will do so again.

With the selection of Ancestor #4, we shift from selecting ancestors from my mother's line to that of my mother-in-law. In many ways, working on my mother-in-law's tree is comparatively easy. For one thing, some of her ancestors were residents in this country from among the earliest of immigrants. Those ancestors, most of whom were devout Catholics, had many children, and for the most part, remained in the same rural areas for generations—either in Ohio (spelled Snider) or onward to Minnesota (spelled Snyder).

On the other hand, there is a twist to my mother-in-law's tree. For example, Nicholas himself was both my mother-in-law's second great-grandfather and her third great-grandfather. He was her second great-grandfather through her father's line, while he was her third great-grandfather on her mother's line. Perhaps that was thanks to the close-knit community where her family settled in the earliest years of Ohio statehood that her family intermarried over the generations. Whatever the reason might have been, I've learned to proceed carefully to make sure I'm following the right surnames in the right order.

That, in fact, is part of the reason I've decided to work on Nicholas Snider's line once again. While I would like to know more about where in Germany the man once known as Nicholas Schneider originated, the most pressing goal now shifts from ancestors to descendants, thanks mostly to the 262 DNA matches who claim him as their ancestor, according to Ancestry's ThruLines tool. It's time to update that list of matches and ensure that I've gotten each of them placed on the correct line in this Schneider/Snider/Snyder family tree. While I have some already linked to their rightful place, I have a long way to go.

Ancestor #3: If There's a Will

 

Genealogy lecturers who delight in crafting the clever presentation title might have found it irresistible to repurpose that old saying, "Where there's a will, there's a way," but I find it far more useful to grab the retake that FamilySearch launched this past year: their Full Text Search capability. With a few well-chosen search terms, including the name of a brick wall ancestor, this tool—if any can do it at all—can spot the name of a brick-wall ancestor among the legatees in the will of an as yet unknown parent.

At least, that's what I'm hoping as I pursue the third of my Twelve Most Wanted for 2025. 

That third research goal involves the early life of my second great-grandfather William Alexander Boothe. Supposedly born in 1812 in a now-nonexistent Virginia county—Nansemond—this ancestor married, had two sons, then lost his wife. According to family stories, he also lost his property and headed to Tennessee with those two motherless sons in tow. From that point, he married my second great-grandmother Rachel Teresa Riley—another relative whose name is in dispute—and fathered eleven more children, including my direct line Martha Cassandra Boothe.

William Alexander Boothe's existence is clearly documented from the point of his arrival in Tennessee, but finding him in those earlier records in Virginia has been a quest which eludes me. Granted, it's been a while since I wrestled with that research question—William Alexander Boothe was my first choice for Twelve Most Wanted in the year I started this project, January of 2020—but I really haven't made much headway.

It's time for me to find the rest of the story about Will's parents and potential siblings. After all, I have twenty six DNA matches to my test results at Ancestry, according to their ThruLines tool. If I push back another generation to the ThruLines suggested parents, I pick up an additional five possible DNA cousins. Granted, those are modest numbers—not like what I stand to gain by solving the research question for yesterday's selected ancestor—but its the thrill of the chase which keeps me and some of my DNA cousins on William Boothe's trail. With the latest tools added to the research arsenal, March may well be my month to find that answer. 

Ancestor #2: A Search for Parents — Again

 

The list for this year's Twelve Most Wanted will see some repeat appearances. That is a good thing. Recent developments in online search tools may help all of us push beyond what we were once able to accomplish. Just as I hold high hopes for January's goal—seeking the parents of my second great-grandmother Sarah Catherine Laws—I hope to find documents linking the focus of my February goal with her ancestors, as well.

February's goal, the second person featured on this year's Twelve Most Wanted, will focus on another ancestor on my maternal line. This woman's mystery ancestors have been said to be the connecting agents linking me to over one hundred DNA cousins—supposedly. I have yet to find documentation to verify those assertions. I last focused on this line for my Twelve Most Wanted list in March of 2021, but this February may be the month to find out otherwise.

The ancestor in question is my third great-grandmother Delaney Townsend. Supposedly born in South Carolina about 1816, she was resident in territorial Florida by the time she was married to Andrew Jackson Charles, son of a local trader near the Suwannee River just south of the Georgia state border. The year of their marriage—1841—was certainly no time for a young, unmarried woman to be alone in such a wilderness, which makes me wonder further about her roots. Where were her family members and how did they get to Florida from South Carolina—or wherever they originated?

Since I've tested at five different DNA companies, I've had ample notices inferring that Delaney was daughter of specific parents, but I've yet to find satisfactory documentation to make the connection sure. With this year's development of AI-assisted Full Text Search at FamilySearch.org, I have a new opportunity to find Delaney's name connected to documents drawn up by potential family members. Not only that, but I may possibly find the answer to another question which has plagued me: what eventually happened to Delaney and her husband Andrew Jackson Charles, both of whom disappeared sometime before the recording of the 1860 census?

There's plenty of motivation to resolve this issue. Here's just one example: if relying on the ThruLines tool at Ancestry.com and checking my entry for her supposed parents, I have 117 DNA matches linked to Delaney's supposed father, and 114 matches attributed to her possible mother. If either of those designated parents turns out to be true, I'll have a lot of work ahead of me to reconcile records on quite a sizable set of DNA cousin connections. That alone can take me more than the month—especially a month as brief as February.

12 For '25

 

We're entering one of my favorite times of year: that quiet lull between Christmas and New Year's Day. This week has always been an introspective time for me, which lends itself well to planning for the upcoming year's family history research projects.

As I've done now for the past five years, I'll be selecting one ancestral line per month for my research focus in 2025, beginning with this quiet week following Christmas—but to cover those twelve ancestors for the upcoming year, I'll extend the process through January 6, Epiphany. Hence, the "twelve days of Christmas" for the twelve ancestors I'll be researching next year, my "Twelve Most Wanted."

What I discovered over this past year is not to give up on those hopeless brick wall ancestors, but to try, try again. I learned this at first when FamilySearch labs released their Full Text Search capabilities, showing me that there might be hope, after all, to find answers—or at least promising leads. I can think of several ancestors where this tool may provide me some fresh answers after struggling for years without any leads. At least two of my stuck research lines may benefit from that, and will be on my Twelve Most Wanted list for this year.

The second lesson I learned this past year is to never assume the search is over based on currently-available records. Not everything is currently online—but more of it might be, given another year's time. Nor has every record ever created been featured in a widely-accessible website. Some websites add new records. Some records pop up on new websites. And some have been there all along, but I hadn't found them before, because they were featured on a website in a language I didn't speak, or from a country whose records I wasn't familiar with.

Remembering this fact of ever-changing availability will keep me from writing off research goals—like assuming, during last year's planning for my Twelve Most Wanted, that my father's Polish heritage would be forever a secret because I couldn't travel to Poland or access any more records there. It will also renew research vigor when I pursue my father-in-law's Irish roots. Who knows what Irish records might be digitized, or even found, by the time I begin work on his branch of the family this coming July? After all, according to Canadian blogger John Reid, there's just been 275 Irish titles added to the FamilySearch Full Text search, good news indeed.

The process for the annual Twelve Most Wanted plan is to select three ancestors from my mother's family lines to research in the first quarter of the year, one ancestor for each month. I'll outline what I need to know on each of these three selected ancestors with one overview post per day this week.

Following those three ancestors from my mother's heritage, the next quarter of the year will be devoted to three selected ancestors from my mother-in-law's family history. Again, I'll explain my goals for each of those ancestors with one post per day.

As we approach the second half of 2025, we'll move on to my father-in-law's Irish roots, the source of several brick wall frustrations. Though I still have my doubts about any forward movement with those projects, I've learned to not box myself in with assumptions that circumstances will remain static in the future. Here's hoping to three more selections which, by the point of this summer, will see fulfillment. 

Closing out the year, the final three ancestors selected will bring me full circle to the mistake I had made last year at this time: assuming that I couldn't make any more progress due to lack of access to records. I have far greater hopes for finding answers with the availability of sources come next October. Again, I'll lay out the details on the final three of my Twelve Most Wanted with a description of those goals, one ancestor per day, to bring us up to Epiphany and the close of my overview of research plans for 2025.

That said, for January, I am looking forward to reaching back to a goal I had set three years ago: finding the parents of my second great-grandmother Sarah Catherine Laws of Tennessee and possibly North Carolina. I have plenty of DNA matches connecting me to that Laws surname, but so many of those DNA cousins' trees seem to connect with a different ancestral Laws family. Despite working on this problem in February of 2022, I really didn't make any definitive discoveries. With Full Text Search and fresh eyes, I hope to locate records tying Sarah to parents and siblings, from which I can then draw up a descendancy chart and connect the dots with some DNA cousins.

That, however, is only the first of my goals for 2025. Tomorrow, we'll take a look at the possibility for Ancestor #2 of my Twelve Most Wanted for the upcoming year.